This is the kind of night where I can picture myself on a timeline called Life. Though it is quite strange that whenever I picture it I'm always in the middle, right at the midpoint of the line... hopefully, there is some kind of progression. I usually try to shake off these thoughts as soon as they appear hoping that the image would dissolve like an etch-a-sketch. I know deep down, I don't want to see my future projection because I long for something better, something greater than what I currently see. At the same time, it's also the fear that if I tarry too long on my hopes, they would prove to be false. So instead of replacing the good with the great and taking appropriate measures to fix, mend, and follow through, I secretly outline a bad projection so that way I wouldn't feel so bad if I don't end up receiving the Nobel Peace Prize. And then of course I shake all of it off because procrastination convinces me to deal with it later. "Life just happens," he would say.
But if I know where I want to be and I know what I have to do to get there, then why is it that I don't do it all the time, and even if I end up doing what is necessary and good it's not done willingly with joy every single time? What does that make me? Human, I guess, but I'm not satisfied. I'm not satisfied that what I hear from the pulpit and the Word is not what I do when I step outside the walls. Whenever I am reminded that I am a new creation I am also reminded that Christians still have a tendency to "leak out" sin as long as they are in the body and as long as they "have not been made perfect yet." However, too many times the ever-encouraging, never-discouraging emphasis on the process of sanctification feels like the ultimate plea to excuse sins as inevitable under a banner that reads "Press on!" or less biblically put, "Just do it!" I mean, wouldn't it be great if after hearing/reading, "do nothing out of selfish ambition... your attitude should be the same as that of Christ" bam! you actually do nothing out of selfish ambition from that point on? Is that too crazy, too radical?
Put another way, everyone wants an A in school. Everyone, unless... no, no exceptions. And like the rest of my peers, I wanted A's in college. I know for a fact that if I had spent at least 3-4 hours consistently every single day to study for my classes (not including homework time), I would have gotten straight A's. Arbitrary numbers aside, it's simply because I know, either through first or second hand experience, that studying leads to good grades. That makes sense and there wouldn't be anything "crazy" or out of the norm if I actually followed through and got my A's. But my actions, as my gpa unfortunately testifies, don't reflect my knowledge of what makes sense. In terms of desire and how much I want it, I may be willing with the strongest of wills, but the bite trumps the appetite.
Knowing is not enough. Knowledge is overrated. Knowledge isn't even half the battle; knowledge only lets you know you're in a battle. It's the action that follows that counts for the loss or the victory. Ironically, knowing that is still knowledge and gets you nowhere. So now what? Well usually, this is when the verses take aim and rapid fire. "You are more than a conqueror"; "who can be against you?"; "confess he is faithful and just to forgive"; "Flee from desires of youth"; "Resist the devil"; "do not conform to the world"; "keep the unity"; "fight the good fight of faith"; "walk in the light"; "run the race"; "Holy Spirit helps you in your weakness"; "faith without works is dead"; "saved by grace"; "nothing can separate you from God's love," etc. I can nod, say amen, get chills, be convicted, and be 'blessed' by all this, but none of it does any good if I don't move. In fact, I'm at a worse state than before if I know, but don't act. The more I know, the deeper the hole gets, and the more I realize how stuck I am. Eventually, there comes a time when I must come to grips with myself and admit my limit.
The truth is, there is nothing I can do to get out. There is no such thing as digging up; that would be like beating the air. Any and all progress in climbing up are marred by just one failed attempt. It's quite funny, and sad, how all my good efforts have brought me deeper into a certain kind of despair. I say certain because it's the kind that leads to hope - because hope shines the brightest and is felt the strongest in the midst of true hopelessness.
My own projections of who I am, what I will do, where I will be in history seem to slowly fade away as Jesus Christ is lifter higher and higher, far above my heart, far above my head, and far above the full length of my arms in surrender. I drop the strategies, drop the defenses; fly to the cross and drop to my knees. Yea it hurts, it's difficult and seems nearly impossible, but I must decrease and Jesus must increase. Less of me, more of Jesus. None of me, all of Jesus. There must be a reason why God calls His children to be holy as He is holy and calls us to "press on!" There must be a reason why sorrow may last for the night but joy comes in the morning. There must be a reason for this relationship in Jesus.
Life surely does happen, but it doesn't "just happen." Life has been given and I am called to be a good steward of what has been given to me. It's not mine to make, take, or break. It's not mine to procrastinate and waste away. It's not mine at all. It's all His because Christ has given me all of Him, and He is more than enough.
