Lean on Me
"Come to me, all who labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11: 28
Been feeling tired and worn out all weekend, Sunday actually culminated in some kind of depression. Things came to a head and what with the throbbing headache and burning forehead, things could not have been worse when suppressed issues surfaced.
So many people have been sharing with me this familiar refrain: "I'm so tired of struggling. I'm too weary to fight. Why is our walk so ardous, so treacherous, so fraught with discouragements?"
You don't say.
On one hand, our walk *is* supposed to be difficult, narrow and counter-culture because we are living in a world that is not our home. Yet, Christ has taken upon himself our iniquities, He has taken on our pain. At the cross a divine exchange happened, our burdens, our inadequacies, our sins, our pain, all that we would fain throw off yet could not with our own strength is been taken care of. Not that they ceased entirely and immediately, but they cease to be the defining factor in our lives. The moment we signed our name to Christ's it is no longer my performance that matters, but Christ's. And He has done everything perfectly right. "Our lives are hidden with Christ"-- i see this image of God, like a judge, looking straight ahead at me, His eyes of truth perfectly capable of piercing our souls to expose all the ugliness and weakness inside, but Christ interposes and stands between God and me, and His shining white robe is opaque. The result? God sees only Christ's purity, and His perfect performance is counted as mine. It doesn't matter if I failed. Christ didn't. And that's all God sees. To me, it's like passing a math paper because Jesus the math pro handed in His paper and put my name on it.
found this on a friend's blog:
christianity was never about how well we did on god's scorechart anyway. it was never about parading our righteous acts. it's not about my satisfaction. it's about his glory in jars of clay! it's about being weak before him and being filled with his strength. it's about saying lord i can't but you can. to end on a daily bread note: the point is not to try, but to rely, that i may learn to fly. and maybe that's the point of daily battles, roses with thorns and thorns with roses.
Maybe that is why we're always so weary, so bone-tired of trying. We're never going to float if we don't stop waving our arms and legs about trying to trap water. I'm never going to enter into that rest kicking and screaming, frantically troubleshooting. Let Christ handle it. He has already done it.
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come
His grace has brought me safe thus far
and grace shall lead me home
Amen!
Been feeling tired and worn out all weekend, Sunday actually culminated in some kind of depression. Things came to a head and what with the throbbing headache and burning forehead, things could not have been worse when suppressed issues surfaced.
So many people have been sharing with me this familiar refrain: "I'm so tired of struggling. I'm too weary to fight. Why is our walk so ardous, so treacherous, so fraught with discouragements?"
You don't say.
On one hand, our walk *is* supposed to be difficult, narrow and counter-culture because we are living in a world that is not our home. Yet, Christ has taken upon himself our iniquities, He has taken on our pain. At the cross a divine exchange happened, our burdens, our inadequacies, our sins, our pain, all that we would fain throw off yet could not with our own strength is been taken care of. Not that they ceased entirely and immediately, but they cease to be the defining factor in our lives. The moment we signed our name to Christ's it is no longer my performance that matters, but Christ's. And He has done everything perfectly right. "Our lives are hidden with Christ"-- i see this image of God, like a judge, looking straight ahead at me, His eyes of truth perfectly capable of piercing our souls to expose all the ugliness and weakness inside, but Christ interposes and stands between God and me, and His shining white robe is opaque. The result? God sees only Christ's purity, and His perfect performance is counted as mine. It doesn't matter if I failed. Christ didn't. And that's all God sees. To me, it's like passing a math paper because Jesus the math pro handed in His paper and put my name on it.
found this on a friend's blog:
christianity was never about how well we did on god's scorechart anyway. it was never about parading our righteous acts. it's not about my satisfaction. it's about his glory in jars of clay! it's about being weak before him and being filled with his strength. it's about saying lord i can't but you can. to end on a daily bread note: the point is not to try, but to rely, that i may learn to fly. and maybe that's the point of daily battles, roses with thorns and thorns with roses.
Maybe that is why we're always so weary, so bone-tired of trying. We're never going to float if we don't stop waving our arms and legs about trying to trap water. I'm never going to enter into that rest kicking and screaming, frantically troubleshooting. Let Christ handle it. He has already done it.
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come
His grace has brought me safe thus far
and grace shall lead me home
Amen!
posted by beloved at 10:06 AM
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