They weren't in love with themselves; they were willing to die for Christ. Revelation 12:11
Willing to die for Christ? Willing to die to yourself. Everything you have ever wanted, dreamed of, thought that you needed. Are you willing to die to your preferences, your desires, your dreams. Are you making a sacrifice of praise or are you playing pattycake? Do you say you are willing to die for the cause and yet set up boundaries to protect yourself. Do you hide? Behind pain, rejection, fear?
I said I was ready. I put all feet towards the mark. Then God laughed at me, and my pride, my self-sufficiency. He laughed as a father laughs at a little girl the first time she dresses herself and her shoes are on the wrong feet and her shirt is on backwards. I loved my comforts, my home, our business, my "pretty" marriage. I loved the pretense of perfection. I hid behind a mask, a wall. I was real with God, but I was lying to everyone else. I wanted so bad the position. I wanted so bad to finally be enough. Just when the mark was placed and it finally felt like God called my number... WHAM. I found myself lying face down, close to death - gasping for air. I sat on the edge of my bed and cried tears of years of frustration, years of "works" to achieve what I finally had and now, now, it was being ripped from me like an infant from it's mother. "I" had worked so hard. Strived so hard so that everyone would know me, need me. What a farce.
Only now a year later will I pour out my heart. I am not writing for anyone but my God except maybe myself, praying that it will bring the healing, the peace, the umph, to help me towards being a triumphant overcomer like Christ. I don't want to wallow, I can see the surface just above my head... but I just can't get there. I want to run, I want to go, I want to start a new life, yet, here I sit.
I don't look to man now to give me relief. This has all be orchestrated by God Himself... no one else could even attempt to pull this off. I know that He has me, I just wish that I could hear His voice, taste His tears.
I said I was ready. I put all feet towards the mark. Then God laughed at me, and my pride, my self-sufficiency. He laughed as a father laughs at a little girl the first time she dresses herself and her shoes are on the wrong feet and her shirt is on backwards. I loved my comforts, my home, our business, my "pretty" marriage. I loved the pretense of perfection. I hid behind a mask, a wall. I was real with God, but I was lying to everyone else. I wanted so bad the position. I wanted so bad to finally be enough. Just when the mark was placed and it finally felt like God called my number... WHAM. I found myself lying face down, close to death - gasping for air. I sat on the edge of my bed and cried tears of years of frustration, years of "works" to achieve what I finally had and now, now, it was being ripped from me like an infant from it's mother. "I" had worked so hard. Strived so hard so that everyone would know me, need me. What a farce.
Only now a year later will I pour out my heart. I am not writing for anyone but my God except maybe myself, praying that it will bring the healing, the peace, the umph, to help me towards being a triumphant overcomer like Christ. I don't want to wallow, I can see the surface just above my head... but I just can't get there. I want to run, I want to go, I want to start a new life, yet, here I sit.
I don't look to man now to give me relief. This has all be orchestrated by God Himself... no one else could even attempt to pull this off. I know that He has me, I just wish that I could hear His voice, taste His tears.
No comments:
Post a Comment