Yesterday God called my attention to some sin in my life. Not the first time that has happened, but it’s never a pleasant experience. The relief of confessing it and knowing I was forgiven was, however, and I was singing and reveling in grace all afternoon, knowing that the weight that had blocked fellowship between me and God was gone, and that now I could look back on the past days of dissatisfaction and know why I was so dark and dry.
Today the feelings were not so sharp, but that is alright, because it is not feelings of God that I worship, but Him, and it is not feelings which He requires of me, but obedience. I look at my past and realize how many times I have committed variations on this sin of living with myself at the center of the world instead of God (that’s what sin is, after all), and am sad that I have repeated it and probably will again. And I look at the patterns of my life that lead to sliding into this state of sinfulness, and I see that it starts with trying to be righteous on my own, which starts when I am not spending time with God in prayer, in His word. And so I determine that this will not happen again, and set to work to kill the flesh in the power of the flesh.
And then I get tired.
I make a cup of coffee, admiring the pattern of blue and yellow flowers on the tiny white cup and saucer. I think the secret of why I like espresso is really the delicacy of the cups.
Jesus said we bear fruit by abiding in Him, our vine. It doesn’t take work to abide, only dependence, which is trust. And I am caught up again in the paradoxes of this Christian life, the fight to be still and let God fight. But I know He wins in the end.
Hope, I recently read, is the future tense of faith. It is trusting God with the future that I can’t do anything about. And my hope of glory is Christ in me. When He appears, I will be like Him, for I will see Him as He is. For now, I can trust.
“In quietness and in trust shall be your strength.” Isaiah 30:5
