—Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest (11 September, "Missionary Weapons")
Whoa.
It doesn't even take this kind of revelation to see the kind of pig I've been toward God lately, but it certainly drives the point home. From morning onward, this day has carried an undertone of hypocrisy's sting—I've talked this way; I've walked the other. When I'm this tired of myself, it's hard to believe that He isn't, much less believe that He delights in me.
Perhaps there are some aspects, some depths of God's love that I won't begin to understand without expressing them to others. Until I learn to act in love to even the most difficult souls He's placed in my life, can I begin to grasp the way He loves my most difficult soul? It's His Spirit that can make me able to love them, the same Spirit that serves as a seal of His love for me.
I've held God at arm's length or farther recently, and circumstances haven't been bringing me closer to reaching for Him. Sunday morning was a perfect storm of busyness: my worship experience consisted of seeing baptisms and receiving of new members, singing a song, and praying a prayer. That's not enough.
Thankfully,
This morning I listened to the sermon over and over. Powerful. Maybe I needed to hear it more than once, which I likely wouldn't have done had I been able to stay in the service. John's talk of Christians absorbing the sin of others reminded me of talks I've had with
Meeting tonight, so my plan is to work straight through until we wrap around 21:00. That's usually easier than shifting out of work mode then shifting back—it makes rest less of a tease. From a work perspective, it's been a good day and I can continue to get set for the busy week ahead.
For now, it's a few moments of quiet music, tea, and reconnecting with my identity in Christ. Busyness is one enemy of that truth's full realization; my flesh is another. But it's still true. My Abba is faithful to forgive me, to delight in me, to sing over me and remind me than I am His son.