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Being moved

In the time between work and Community Group, some sadness I've been avoiding snuck up on me and hit me with a sucker punch. Nothing new or earth-shaking, just the reality of where I am and am not is affecting me more deeply than I'd like to let on, even to myself. I want someone to be angry with, someone to blame, but there's none of that, yet no good reason either—just loss and a strike through what might have been.

Even so, I'm thankful, because it's a more real place for me to be and I'm a more real person for being moved there. Grace.

We looked at Acts 1 and 2 in Community Group and talked about the continuing ministry of the ascended Christ through the person, presence, and power of the Holy Spirit. When I don't see the Spirit at work in my life, it's usually for a combination of two reasons. First, a simple lack of faith: is He real enough, strong enough, good enough? Second, the Spirit works to advance the Kingdom, not simply to clean up and organize my life (that's a side effect when it happens). So if I'm not headed that direction, odds are, I'm not going to see Him. People were/are filled with the Spirit for this purpose. Adversity and suffering are also closely tied with that kind of filling. Is my faith drawing me to the battle lines?

I could beat myself up about my failings, but that quickly degenerates to more self-importance. The answer may lie instead in gratitude on the heels of conviction: gratitude for His salvation, for His life in me, for His continuing work of sanctification, for all the blessings He's showered on me. Life in this perspective is received rather than grasped at, and everything is easier to let go of, because none of it is the point. Only Him. When I'm like that, I become moveable—He can direct me, guide me, shape me, fill me. The life of Christ can be made manifest in me.

His reign and redemption are advancing as far as the curse is found. I am thankful to be moved.

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