How is your relationship with Jesus?
“I don’t know.”
Others have answered in such a way and each time, I was unsatisfied with their answer. In my frustration, I would dig deeper, demanding more answers.
What do you mean, “I don’t know?” Are you satisfied with it? Why or why not? How do you not know? Etc, etc, etc.
Today I ask myself the same question and stop there. I just don’t know and I don’t know how to explain it and it makes my head hurt to think about it so I’m not going to bother.
Which, of course, is a very childish way to think. I’m just throwing a tantrum and Jesus needs to put me in my place.
No, I’m not satisfied with my relationship with Jesus. Haven’t been since winter but I’ve been complacent and lazy about the whole thing because I’ve been happy. In my happiness, I forgot to credit the one who granted it to me in the first place. Isn’t it terribly sad that we go to Him more often and desperately when we’re hurting than when we’re happy? We give Him the leftover broken pieces but still He says “Come, come. I want you and love you as you are.”
It is after a good two hours of self loathing/reflection (and journaling) that I have come to the conclusion;
I’m pretty sure God is in the process of humbling me because I’ve been asking for it for a while (a part of me silently hoping that it’d never happen because humiliation precedes humility) and I’ve been long over due for a lesson in humility. It is still far too easy for me to become arrogant in my faith, my own abilities, and the God given talents He has blessed me with.
Hence, tidbits detailing the depravity of my own prideful heart and the ways in which God went about humbling it;
Hah, look at me, I can already run this many miles after just starting to run. I can practically fly; watch me.
In my exuberance to start running, I ran too many miles at once and effectively ruined my knees. Now, with shooting pains accompanying every step I take (along with random tingling at rest), I have been unable to run even the few laps required of me in volleyball class.
I’m gonna play beautifully as I always do and people are going to notice and compliment me after and I’m going to make my parents proud.
They certainly noticed me; but only because my memory blanked and I experienced the biggest mess up of my 16 year piano career where I stopped and backtracked and skipped an entire two phrases in my performance. In front of my parents. In front of my friends. It was such a fiasco that my professor commented on it the next day with such fascination; “I have never seen you that nervous!”
Interesting observation considering I hadn’t been nervous at all until my fingers slipped; after that, shame and embarrassment pretty much overruled any other feeling I had.
I revel in the encouragement Grace gives me and return home prepared to be the light and salt of the earth to my parents.
I break my several month long streak of not snapping at my ma; I anger at my father for mocking me for my failed piano performance; I go through the whole day with an air of childish petulance and refuse to respond to either of them for as long as I can.
I’ve memorized Psalm 23; I know it by heart; look and see how I love the Word and the heart of God.
Memorizing it does not translate to understanding it I realize when I stare at the text and figuratively knock my head against the wall as I struggle to come up with questions for the bible study on Wednesday. Instead of pressing on and reflecting carefully over the passage, I let feelings of inadequacy and uselessness take over me as I sit and watch Jonathan work through it. It takes me around twenty minutes to work up the courage to tell him “I can’t do this,” when the underlying truth of it all was I just didn’t want to go through the process of trying with him watching me fail.
I’ll figure it out later, I tell him and myself but considering it now, I’m not sure if I can.
YEAH. I can be extroverted. I can be around bunches of people and be okay and I can keep pouring and pouring out and I’m invincible cause I made it through that, now nothing can stop me.
Unfortunately, I’m afraid I have temporarily exhausted my love for other people (probably points to the fact that I loved out of my own heart and not Christ’s) and am unknowingly on the brink of burn out. It’s hard to carry a conversation. It takes massive amounts of effort to talk. I am now on a secret (but not so secret now) mission to avoid people like the plague. All I want to do is sleep.
Matthew comments on how the whole leadership team looked tired this year and my temper flares as I digest the comment. I look tired? No way. (Such a distasteful reaction to a statement spoken out of brotherly concern; I am sorry, Matthew, for getting upset)
“But, you are tired,” Jesus points out to me but I ignore Him in favor of doing other things. Sure, I’m tired maybe but that doesn’t change the fact that I have things to do. There’s a kingdom to be built, you know.
But, all He requires of me is to be still so it must have been pride tempting me to do anything but. When is the last time I have just sat and listened to the Lord as opposed to falling asleep mid prayer?
What pleases Him more; burnt offerings or my obedience?
I need an accountability partner. I thought I was mature enough to do this on my own but I was sorely mistaken.
Not sure how long this lesson of humility is going to take to be learned; my pa has always commented how I pick up things fast but as a consequence, nothing ever sticks.
I’m praying that this lesson sticks. One, so I won’t have to experience such embarrassment again (not quite the right way to look at it but I’m giving myself points for honesty). Two, so that Jesus can start doing His work through me and get all the glory.
Him, increase; I, decrease; that is my not so genuine at the moment prayer but here’s to praying that He breaks my prideful heart to make it a most heartfelt one.
Thank You for loving me regardless, Jesus. It is more than I deserve.
He restores my soul.