Thursday, July 21, 2011

Really Kid?

Have I ever told you how truly DUMB I am. I don't mean in the sense that I cannot speak. I mean stupid. Unintelligent. Slow to learn. Stubborn. Pretty much a loser and screw-up.

Wow, this blog post has already taken a turn to be pretty self-deprecating. But I DON'T want to be self-deprecating. I DO want to tell you how much of a messed-up sinner I am so that I can tell you how big my Savior is.

Because He's big.

          Really Big.

               HUGE, even.

So anyway, back to me being an idiot...

I just never learn. I complain about all the stuff I am going through. And I whine about how hard this is to go through. And apparently, I suffer from short-term memory loss, because I completely forget that THIS IS WHAT I ASKED FOR.

How many times did I pray, "Lord, break me down."

"Lord, take away all of me, so that only You are left."

"He must become greater, I must become less."

"God, make me weak, so that You can be stronger."

In my journal on the 18th of May, "I pray: 'That I may know him and the power of his resurrection and may SHARE HIS SUFFERINGS, becoming like him in death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection of the dead' (Philippians 3:10-11)."

"God, help me to be content in all circumstances."

"God, I really do want to see suffering as grace."


Could I be any slower to learn? Any slower to figure this out? God gave me what I asked for. God answered my prayer.

How annoying am I, literally complaining about all of this stuff, refusing to see the gift? That must be really annoying, like a kid who begs for a toy, and when her dad gets it for her, she just complains about how much playing with that toy stinks. Really kid? I gave this to you because YOU ASKED FOR IT.

But that's me. Just an ungrateful kid.

I want to be broken down, made weak, die to my sin, and be refined like gold until I look less like me, and more like the person God wants me to be, more like Jesus Christ. Yet in the process of all of this taking place, I complain. I whine. I cry. And I say I don't want to play with the toy. I don't want the gift.

I forgot that I want this. I forgot to say thank you.

Thank you God.
I am walking through fire, but I am being purified.
I am being broken, but I will be made more whole.
I am understanding suffering, but I will become more like you.
I am hurting, but I will learn to be content in all circumstances.
I am being stripped of all I have, completely laid bare, but I am beginning to give thanks, even in the pain.
Even in the suffering.
Even when it's hard and even when it hurts.

This is grace.

So, thank you God, for the gift. I am going to try to play with it, but I won't take it for granted. I won't break it. And maybe I will learn. Maybe next time, I won't be so dumb, so slow.

Lord, mercy.

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