He does not speak with a voice like thunder—His voice is so gentle that it is easy for us to ignore. And the only thing that keeps our conscience sensitive to Him is the habit of being open to God on the inside. When you begin to debate, stop immediately. Don’t ask, "Why can’t I do this?" You are on the wrong track. There is no debating possible once your conscience speaks. Whatever it is—drop it, and see that you keep your inner vision clear.
—Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest (13 May, "The Habit of Keeping a Clear Conscience")
It's the fact that we each are created with consciences that makes my behavior, the behavior of my friends, and the behavior of strangers around the world so disturbing. What am I doing? What are we doing? If I invested a tenth of the energy into obedience that I do in seeking places to wallow in my sin and validation for my wallowing, I'd be so much closer to who God intends me to be—Christ formed in me!
Christ formed in me. Not obedience for the sake of winning God's favor, but Christ formed in me. Do I truly want that, truly believe that He will spare me no good thing? No. Too often I think I'm going to get cheated, that I'd better go after the pleasure of the moment while I can still grab it, then run back to the forgiveness in His arms. I am so completely missing the point.
I need to knock it off, to stop playing this game. So do my friends. So does the world. But I think the task of obeying with my own life is more than large enough. Perhaps, if Christ is formed in me, He will be compelling to my friends—not the idea of Him, or the comfort of Him, but the reality of Him that changes us by the power of His Spirit. Perhaps the world can indeed be changed, not by civic duty or self-improvement, but by Christ formed in the body of His church. That power, without limit, will never be realized in lives that keep playing the games I play.