The Banzai Chronicles

So it turns out there's another kind of anxiety dream—the wedding dream. Who knew? Note to self: bring tuxedo to wedding.

God has so much work to do on me it's ridiculous. Even if He had nothing else to do in the universe other than to work on me, it seems like it would be enough to be a God-sized job and keep Him plenty busy. And yet, there's an arrogance threaded through any humility that thought might contain, which is yet another part of me that needs changing. I'm more amused than bothered by that irony.

I'm amused because, deep down, I know I'm free, even when I'm not living that way. God's authority is borne in power through His very Word, so once He has declared something, so it is. That makes me forgiven, clean, holy, righteous, beloved—a Son. That's enough to keep the weight of my sin from crushing me. It has already crushed Him, and I'll not pretend that didn't happen in some misguided attempt to bear my own punishment. Not that my choices are without consequence, but whenever I'm ready to stop pretending and live in the reality of His declaration, it's there waiting for me to turn around. Whenever I'm ready to live in His love, the Father waits to embrace me. No matter what I feel.