Why? Who's in charge here? I don't even follow my own rules!
Meanwhile...there is something I am really trying to hear from God. Something that is eating at me. I just don't know the best way to handle this situation. I wonder why God will not just tell me what to do. I am eager to do it-whatever it is.
I have to ask myself, "Is there something between me and God?" I am so tired today, (thank you "27 Dresses"). I don't know what to think about the feelings I'm having. But I can tell you, I'm not having peace right now. I have quit my obsession with all things "********"but does it still hold a place in my heart that it's not supposed to? I'm not thinking about it...I have definitely distanced myself from it...But is it enough? I don't really want to think about it or talk about it-to God-because I really don't want to hear "You can't...". It's such a small thing, on the one hand, but it says something BIG. It says I don't trust God. It says I'm holding back. It says: "I'm in charge".
Today, Oswald said, in "My Utmost for His Highest",
"Does He (God) find me recalling the time when I did not care for
anything but Himself?
Am I there now...?"
You have only to look back to my Dec. 26 entry (slow fade) to answer that question. I am still trying to get back to where I was. But maybe I cannot go backwards. Maybe I have to look around to where I am now, and honestly assess the situation. And maybe, as Oswald goes on to say, it needs to involve shame and humiliation.
"If as I recall what God remembers about me,
I find He is not what He used to be to me,
let it produce shame and humiliation,
because that shame will bring the godly sorrow
that works repentance."
We are so politically correct in our thinking that this sounds downright wrong. "Shame? Humiliation? Just say 'no'!" There are even verses of scripture that seem to imply the same message. One of my favorites--and for good reason:
"There is therefore now no condemnation
for those that are in Christ Jesus."
How true that is! I am not condemned. But I am human. I still fall. And sometimes I even wallow. And I still kid myself about sin. And when I am finally at the place (miserable) where I am ready to look at it--just because the blood of Jesus covers it, is no excuse for numbness to it--I need to feel the pain of my "reign". And that's what it is, a reign. And so I ask, "Who's in charge?" Me. Apparently. Who gets the final say? Me. Apparently. Who has subconsciously created and sat on her own cardboard throne? Again...that would be me.
And why? Because I am so wise? Because I'm full of better ideas? because I'm trustworthy? Because I've never let myself down before? Please. Haven't I learned by now what a hot mess I am? My little substitute kingdom is not only ultimately opposed to God--it's opposed to itself! I don't even listen to me! Queen Lisa knew a bedtime of midnight was imperative to a good night's sleep last night, and so she wrote out the edict. But then, subject Lisa-who never was too good at taking orders-promptly opposed her own lordship. And for what? "27 Dresses"? Really?
In Jeremiah, the prophet says of God's people: "You do not even know how to blush".
Blushing: An outward show of one's own personal shame and humiliation. Blushing...I think we may have forgotten how to do it. Our culture celebrates the idea of no regrets--no matter how obvious the infraction. We say:
"I can't regret what made me who I am."
Yes you can! Jane, you ignorant slut--at least be wise enough to have regrets.
I must call all my little divisions (all my free radicals) out. I must corral them before the one True Throne that has never once been threatened by my microscopic coup...and I must give them all what they deserve. Death.
They don't love me. They don't have my best at heart. I am a fool if I listen, for even one more second, to their schizophrenic demands. Feel it, ponder it, let my cheeks turn red, until there is godly sorrow. Then comes repentance. And then I will hear clearly again.