Would you let me (Wes) do something that feels foolish to me and share something very personal? (If you keep reading, I will take that as a “yes”)
Picture a long beach with plenty of moldable sand. Not a dirty beach or a rocky beach but one in which a person can get creative building a sand castle. Now picture a large sand sculpture that looks similar to thrones in those British period movies. Big. So big that you wonder how all of that sand is still sticking together.
Now comes the absurd part: I built that sand sculpture so that I could sit on it. Its my throne. I have made myself comfortable on that sand chair.
Then my Father sends a wave. Actually, its wave after wave. Each wave hits the “throne” until it becomes a sandy mess that doesn’t resemble the sculpture I built at all. I am left clutching the sand in tightened fists until, little by little, all that is left is a flat beach…and a humbled man resting on it.
My Father is washing my self-reliance out from under me and it hurts. It wounds.
I told some friends earlier this week that I feel like I could cry at any moment. That’s true though not obvious. I mentioned that I am weary of praying, planning and acting on conviction with little (obvious) fruit for my labor. On top of that, the evil one takes advantage of my weariness and adds: “Your God wants you to be shamed…to teach you a lesson.”
I question why and I question where the pain comes from.
Then I read this passage earlier:
My son, do not despise the LORD's discipline
or be weary of his reproof,
for the LORD reproves him whom he loves,
as a father the son in whom he delights.
(Proverbs 3:11-12 ESV)
Discipline. Reproof. Son. Delights.
This lingering pain is not my Father’s lingering punishment, it is his lavished delight.
When I try to do things in Jesus’ name to satisfy a desire to please others, he sends a loving wave by not empowering my selfish plan.
He sends a wave of grace to confront my sense of safety. I look for security in life through formulas and plans that I can come up with. I think “If I could just plan and work enough, everything will be easy.” The wave comes to remind me to plan, but plan abiding in Christ.
Our Father has a way of wounding me, not to hurt me, but to dig down deep to the sin that I fiercely guard… to get to my deep seated desire (often hidden from even me) to be in control of all aspects of my life.
I treasure my sand throne. My sand throne is killing me.
So, as I type, I am weary. Spent. Planning to take a day next week to get away and pray. Just me and my Father…and the refreshing silence that a hiking trail affords. My “spentness” is not from the discipline, but my fight against it. Trying to shore up the throne and build it back up as my Father’s waves gently- but definitely- wash it away.
This is the manner of the Kingdom of God: to erode my self-reliance and lead me to the King who beckons me to come to him…learn from him…take His yoke…and find rest for my soul. Though he could roar, He gently whispers, “let me be the King of your life.”
The King of the Kingdom shows his lavish love by washing down my crumbling throne. He washes away my self-reliance and gives me a deep, joyful God-reliance.
And, though I sit humbled in the wreckage of my own, private sand Tower of Babel, I am learning just a little bit more to trust my Gentle King rather than the sand I am clutching. He is creating a Kingdom of people who delight in relying on their King.
No comments:
Post a Comment