"Seek the LORD, all you humble of the land, who do his just commands;
seek righteousness, seek humility" (Zephaniah 2.3a emphasis added).
Have you heard the stories, the stories of the saints? Mary's story, a girl who lived through the fear of stoning, who lived to see God do the impossible, who lost her firstborn son, who lived in a house with God and did not, at times, understand him; who bore the savior of the world and delighted God. Corrie Ten Boom, who lived in a concentration camp, watched her sister die at the hands of her enemies, never saw her father again, lost relative and friend and disciple, who saw suffering we cannot truly comprehend, and who, after the war, helped to heal the broken, bind up the broken hearted, who saw God work in her own heart till she could shake the hand of her former guard with goodwill. Amy Carmichael, who saved thousands of children from prostitution, saved souls by God's grace, lived an uncompromising life, and left a legacy that still exists today. Eric Little dying in China, Jim Elliot run through by a spear, Daniel sitting by the lion, Paul planting church after church, getting up after being stoned. Sarah Groves writes a song, When the Saints, that declares "when the saints go marching in, I want to be one of them." Can you see the shining light of the saints, the light that lasts in the hearts of those who do not know the source, light such as Mother Teresa even today?I want to be one of them. I want my light to shine with the fierceness to burn away lies and evil, with the brilliance that it cannot be set aside, with the steadiness that inspires perseverance, and the warmth that calls forth love and surrender. I want to stand in God's presence and hear "Well done, good and faithful servant." I want to see God's light flowing through me, the light that was the life of men, and see it reaching the unreachable, doing the impossible, holding no score and denying nothing good. I want to do what other cannot, that God may be seen to be able to work all his holy will through the weakest of his children.
But that is not enough.
No, it's not. It sounds lovely, doesn't it? Over the phone with my friends, as I voice my deepest desires, or on paper, as I write out the thoughts of my heart, I sound like a powerful saint, someone to emulate, someone that could encourage and help and hold accountable. I laugh at that. Me? Come, live with me, and see that I am not the person I sound to be. Tell me I'm a saint as I lose my temper and glare at you for no reason, tell me I am someone to emulate as I spend night after night not caring to do what you want, selfish in my own little world, refusing to let you intrude, tell me to encourage you when I want nothing more than to tell you to go away.
Cruel though this may be to say, there is someone else I knew like me. She stayed with me for a few months, and was so incredibly selfish and self-centered, inconsiderate to the point of cruelty at times. I see her posts on Facebook now, and they are so pure, so lovely, so beautiful, and as filling and nutritious as ashes that scum the tastebuds and do not leave. She has lost a daughter, since then, and I hope with all I am that I am misjudging her, that if I got to know her again I would love her and listen to her. But I sound like my memory of her when the reader can see my daily life.
Wanting, wishing, desiring is not enough. To desire God is amazing, right, for we were made to love him and surrender all to him, to dwell in his presence daily, to live in his will. But did you hear the verse above? It is those who do God's will that are given commands, that he speaks to as he judges the entire earth and consumes it in the fire of his jealousy, as he sweeps away everything from the face of the earth. The humble, those who know who they are before God, and who know him enough to obey. Oh, God, give me that! Let me be more than the Talkative in Pilgrim's Progress, more than those who satisfy their conscience by imaging they are beautiful as they continue to stray and sin and squelch true repentance, those who "profess to know God, but deny him by their works. They are detestable, disobedient, unfit for any good work" (Titus). For such a one as that, I know I am.
And confession does not absolve me; Jesus's blood does that. But to confess it is to encourage my pride (of all the frustrating, ridiculous things!), to let me say to myself, "Looook. Look how holy I am, look how well I know myself, look how I have a sense of my sin, look, I am righteous...because I know how sinful I am." How could there by any hope for me, more wish than truth?
"Blessed are they that hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled." On this I put my hope, for "God, who never lies" has promised this. God, make me righteous! Create in me a clean heart, renew a right spirit within me, keep back your servant also from presumptuous sins, let them not have dominion over me! Then I shall be blameless, and innocent of great transgression. Promise from God...on what else can I place my hope? For my own strength is as fragile as a wish from a whimsical, ADD person! But your strength, your promises backed by your faithfulness, you who have said if we hope for what we do not see, we can wait for it with patience, who tell us to ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is as a wave tossed about...your words, over and over, what I have to fear when you have promised this? So I ask, on the strength of your faithfulness and promises, that you match my actions till they go further than my desires, till my will is completely surrendered to yours, till your light is all that they can see when those who live with me look at me. In the name of Christ, who has washed me clean and washed away all the ash and mud with his own blood, amen.
