There and Back Again

    I often find myself wondering why the Lord doesn’t just send a lightning bolt down to disintegrate my soul. Sometimes I think that even hell would have a hard time putting up with my behavior and wicked thought-life. But why do I do this? Isn’t this what Yahweh sent his only beloved son to die for---my freedom from these ideas and fears? If God had only given me one chance in this life, I would have blown it in my first gasp of air when I entered the world. But before I even knew or cared about second chances….I had millions. I have an infinite amount of chances to trip and fall—and an infinite amount of get-out-of-jail-free cards available to me because My God died for me. My king became a part of His creation that had turned against Him simply to give me as many second chances as I needed. I am not perfect, but I am perfect in the sense that God made me just the way that he intended to—to have weak points and failures and treasures that allow me to exercise my gift/curse of free will—will I choose the gifts or the giver? Will my treasures be stored on earth where moth and rust destroy--- or will they be stored in my heart, heaven and shared through the love that the Lord has given me to share? (Matt. 6:19)
  When I do come across these week points, do I turn and run in fear because I know that I will fail or do I look to the one who I know will rescue me, even if I choose not to trust Him? But why is it necessary that this question arise? If I know that He has all things under His command, If I know that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, If I know that He will catch me when I fall—then why don’t I just trust him. Is it a lack of belief or is it pride? Either way, I deny that he is capable of doing something significant. Even in the small things—I tend to think that I don’t need Him. No matter what it is, I need to trust in the Lord. Because if I am as confident as I claim to be, then why do I nail Him back on the cross every day? It’s as if to say that he might as well still be in the grave—if I think I can do this on my own. . . No, I don’t wake up every morning and declare to God that I don’t need him, although, sometimes, I might as well. Instead I should make the point to wake up and declare that I need Him. Maybe if I woke up on the right note every morning, my day would cadence nicely in the chorus of His love and grace.