Heart Pieces: Believable Words

I fail; this is an easy thing to admit.

Struggling to grasp the title of redeemed while struggling to release the title of depraved.

I play this intense game of switching my identity back and forth from failure to successor. 

The times I have tried to change this narrative by carving into my head that I am loved and chosen exceed my finger tallies.

Earth’s reality tells me that believing that I am anything other than an on-and-off flake would be foolish. 

For unholy things don’t mix with Holy things. 

Good things don’t mix with bad things.

And imperfect people cannot be accepted by a Perfect being.

Therefore, I am unable to receive such a love as God’s because I am indeed imperfect, and He is indeed Holy.

I have accepted this tainted thinking, and in return, flows the guilt of being offered the love in the first place.

It seems that my mind has turned God's love into chains that I must refuse. 

How mistaken I am…

To see such a gracious and steadfast love as conditional

and to see the Truth as a fallacy.

Adam and Eve must have felt this way.

The enemy convinced Adam and Eve that the One most trustworthy was deceptive.

Though I would love to say that I would never make the mistake of falling into this trap and eating of the tree, at this exact moment, I am proving myself incapable of that proper decision. 

I use the reality that I am flawed to determine whether God’s love for me is appropriate.

Exposing my weakness,

imperfections, 

and humanity, 

just as the first man and woman.

I am Adam and Eve, diminishing the validity of God’s words due to my sinful inability to believe. 

But if I just believe, 

then every unstable reality of myself will conclude in Christ’s devoted love for me.

I am weak, yes, but His grace and power are sufficient in me (2 Cor. 12:9).

I am flawed, yes, but I am washed, sanctified, and justified through Christ (1 Cor. 6:11).

I am human, yes, but He is faithful to complete the work He has begun in me (Phil. 1:6).

All of me, the good, bad, beautiful, and ugly, ends with the truth of Christ’s love.

His love united His Holy with my unholy, declaring me righteous in Him. 

Now, I am allowed to be His before claiming to be anything else. 

He is the way, the truth, and the life, and in all of His wisdom, power, grace, and love, He is able to determine the truth of Himself and me, His creation.

And it is seen that freedom rings when His words are believed.

- lr

Heart Pieces: A Color Such as Grey

When I look up, the colors I once saw are not available in their fullness, instead consumed by clouds of grey.

The clouds have done what they do best: alter the mood of those it hovers.

It exists as an undefeatable gloom and dullness.

Though eternal joy still exists here, no enthusiasm appears. 

Neither motivation nor energy.

I miss the pigment and its ability to form emotional bliss and physical highs. 

Oh, dear color, I thirst for you, craving the vibrancy you inhabit. 

You are hidden beyond the grey, distant. 

My days ache, and my soul questions why my life is not vivid though the Spirit of Light that lives in me. 

Venturing to find the fullness of color once more, I am halted in my steps to be guided back to the days of Jesus.

It was in the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus, that You were weary; it was on the cross where you hung in anguish.

The excitement to live in obedience was absent.

And tones of positivity were lacking when the time came to sacrifice your body for those You were sent to save.

It was grey, You were human, and You were sorrowful.

Still, You replied, “Not what I will, but what You will,” and now I see.

Your grace, Lord, faithfully leads me through the gloom.

You allow me the ability and reason to obey in feelings of weakness and insufficiency.

You teach me how faith goes beyond the clouds, beyond the feelings, and settles in Truth.

Jesus, You endured pain and sorrow, and still, Your actions displayed humble obedience to Your Father.

May I be like You, Jesus.

May my grey conclude in surrender.

-lr

Matthew 26

An Anxious Life That Was Never Mine To Keep

I was once told a story that I do not quite remember.

           In this story, I was around five years old. The setting was a grocery store, and as a young one, my job was to follow behind my mother as she searched for items on her list. As we journeyed around the store, we were interrupted. Someone approached my mom, sparking up a conversation about the most recent happenings of life. When I first became aware of the stranger's presence, I instantly ran to find one of my mother’s legs. After I succeeded, I held on, tucking behind the swaying body part, hoping to disappear. Yet, I always allowed room for occasional peeking to catch a glimpse of the stranger’s behavior. During a moment of my peeking session, I found my eyes to accidentally meet the stranger’s, initiating a soft “Hello” from them. My heart responded quicker than my reflexes ever could. With my heart racing, I drew back, retreating to safety and physically pressing my lips together so that words would not escape in reaction to their greeting. After the interaction between my mother and the stranger, I calmed, becoming grateful that the exchange was finally over.

Though I do not remember this happening, I remember its feeling, for it was a familiar everyday experience for me. I sadly knew anxiety well.

I typically describe anxiety as a hated friend of mine, as if that is something that should exist. Me and anxiety coexisted for as long as I can remember. So long that I gained a sense of comfort when it arose. So long that an embedded belief became that fear was safe enough to lead my thinking and actions. However, in my maturity, I discovered that this entity only desired to corrupt my mind and bind my body.

To fear the known and unknown is paralyzing. I constantly lived feeling unsafe, misunderstood, and lonely. Therefore, I coward at the sign of any possible danger, imaginary or real. My life became one I knew deep down in my soul was not mine to keep. Yet, I did not know how to rid myself of a parasite that survived off me and me off it since the beginning.

Desperate, I was offered an opportunity to look up and breathe, diverting my attention from the debilitating, familiar ways of anxiety below and fixing my eyes on the good above.

Finding myself in God’s midst, my mind quieted, and He reminded my soul of what is good, true, and beautiful.

See, I lived my life leaning into what weighed heavy on earth. Accepting the world's idea of beauty, success, and worth created a standard for myself that I always failed to live up to, resulting in major insecurities and pressures that caused anxiety in all areas of my life, including my relationship with God. The truth is I forgot about heaven. 

I forgot that in heaven, saints rest in worship to the Father, knowing their purpose and consuming themselves in the One worthy of their time and energy. The things of heaven do not compare to that on earth, so which will I meditate on? Who will I serve?

Today I can say that most of my life is without anxiety; though not perfect, the Holy Spirit continues to give me the strength to do the daunting, reminding me that all is well in His presence even when not on earth.

For I have a new Ruler who diminishes the thick of fear. A solid knowing is created in His reign, relaying that I am continuously covered in His care. I am secure; in His truth, I am well. Therefore, when anxiety rises, my heart will calm, and my soul will rest because I know He is faithful to keep me. 

- lr

Matthew 6:25-34