My “A Game”

Jesus doesn’t need my “A Game.”

J.R. Vasser tweeted this statement yesterday. At first I glossed over the sentence not really paying attention but as I scrolled through; it kept coming back…

Is that what I think, especially on days like Sunday? Do I act like Jesus needs me (and my family) to be “on” all of the time?  Do I place expectations of perfection on myself to the point where I can never measure up?  Yes…

But does Jesus, the embodiment of grace, want anything from me but brokenness? Oh Lord, being broken is hard. It makes me vulnerable and susceptible to hurt.

And He whispered, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

So that I can be like the apostle Paul:  “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly for my weakness, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities.  For when I am weak, then I am strong.” taken from 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

For when I am weak, then I am strong…but only because of Him.

Today, I’m so thankful that Jesus doesn’t need my “A Game”.

Joining the gratitude community at The Holy Experience:

#25-31

Thursday afternoon coffee with a new friend

My house lit up with twinkle lights celebrating the season.

The smell of Thanksgiving and the anticipation of seeing family and friends.

Christmas crafts and old friends and their babies (that aren’t all so babyish anymore)

My sister, who makes me laugh without meaning to.

His Spirit, always reminding, always working, always convicting, always comforting.

Eating His dust

There is great cost in following Jesus, in true discipleship.

It’s not pretty or clean or easy.

He takes us places we would never go on our on.  He calls us away from our families, from our comforts.  God blesses us with abundance and then asks us to give it away.  He wants us to love the unlovable.

He moves in our spirit and wants to make us so tender toward the hurting that we can’t help but be bonded together through the suffering of the night and the joy that comes in the morning.

He bids us to come and follow - to be so close to Him that we eat the dust kicked up from his feet as He walks us through His word.

He’s asked if I ‘m willing. With His small, still voice speaking to my spirit, He wants to move me further, just like He does with all who believe. 

I know there is great cost. While my heart is willing, my flesh is weak, and so I teeter on a precipice so deep that I can’t see the end.

But I know that He holds the future. He is steadfast and unchanging. His promise that I am secure doesn’t mean that this life will be any kinder but that He holds me in the palm of His hand and He will be at the bottom waiting to catch me.

So, I’m jumping, not just falling over, but the kind of jump where you need a running start so that when you get to the edge of the cliff you’re flying.  And He will catch me and I will follow Him, eating the dust kicked up from His feet.

Becoming His disciple, looking like the One who is the Lover of my Soul.