Today is a day of remaking. Of taking the life that I have lost a bit of control of this week, and hitting the pause button, recreating our spaces, and connecting again, before more life hits, and more emotions roll, and before my sins feel so real, I could break. Renewing our world, refreshing our perspective, because life is hard and we are fallen. And so the things that have slipped out of my hands, the water that has gone rushing through, the drips that I can’t seem to catch, I am allowing to drip into His hands. I am asking Him to pour them into me, gently, slowly. So I open His word, and sometimes it hurts, because it shows me exactly who I am and exactly where I fall short. Always. But I need this. I need his waterfall to flow into me, because I can’t experience the mercy, without craving the changes, and the changes are so hard. But I must receive. I must make a habit of receiving, of opening my hands and accepting the transformation, because I don’t want my life to be the same. I don’t want to not change. I just wish the changes were easy to handle, that they were simple, and painless, and more or less… convenient. But I know, I know, that is not the case. That if my goal is to be more like Christ, the perfect one who was murdered and bled so that change could come, for me, then why would I even want painless? Why would I desire easy, meaningless, change. Because isn’t that just it? Something that matters, doesn’t normally come without work, hurt, pain. It’s the labor of growth and it takes years, when I want it to come in just days.
And those moments when my reaction and what I know of meaningful love just aren’t the same, I want to crawl under my rock, because I feel like change never comes. And I open His word, and pray that it soaks deep, that His desires are mine. Why, then, do my actions not align? Because practice is hard, and selfishness is easy. Because “let your words be few” is not a thing I always want to do. Because sometimes, I really don’t trust that God is doing the working, even when I’m not doing the talking. But my immaturity comes through, and my expectations roar, and everything I want to be, seems fleeting in that moment. Because graciousness and understanding are not present in the selfish heart, why do I expect them to coincide. Why do I want to do for myself, to make sure my bases are covered, when I know deep down, that I am sewing seeds that are hard to recover.
And just as James says, I feel as though my tongue speaks both good and evil, my mouth utters thoughts I would never want to say, and I just want to become like those who are truly wise.
“But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, reasonable, full of mercy and good fruits, unwavering, without hypocrisy. And the seed whose fruit is righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.” (James 3:17-18)
So I soak it in and pray that it penetrates deep, to the days when I get so caught up in the stuff of this life, because I don’t want to waver. Because there is hope and there is mercy and I am so grateful.