get past myself, my hang-ups, and my introspection (which is really no fun at all)...and move onto larger more wonderful pursuits. I want to write about things that really matter, instead of writing in order to sort out my own seemingly contradictory thoughts about life and things that matter. I want to get out from under the guilt and shame that try to attach themselves to me; I want to walk in the freedom that has already been purchased for me. I want to dance without caring what people think, or that they can see how foolish I look. I want to live with integrity and no longer project onto others the impressions of myself that I guess/make-up in my head. I want to start living my life instead of coveting the lives of others, the callings of others. I want to be infectiously joyful, constantly grateful, and full-to-the-brim of the experiential knowledge of my God. I want to make good use of my time. Find that balance between faithful stewardship of the days I've been given, and being oblivious of time itself as I live for eternity. I want to be a good friend, one that is faithful and steadfast. One that does not run from hurt, but runs back to my friend with arms open and heart ready to forgive (and, if need be, be hurt again), trusting all the while that my heart is in the charge of One who takes good care of me. Oh to live with purpose and wonder! A purpose that gives meaning to the mundane. A wonder that sees the world through the lens of the light and beauty of Jesus.
I forget that the days that I dread and the minutes that tick by with painstaking slowness are the stuff of which my future is made. A future grace is my present beholding of truth. Accepting with a thankful heart all that I've been given...Today. And every day, I have been given the greatest gift of all- Christ Jesus is mine, despite my dirt and filth and slowness of heart. He has come to make His home inside this heart - weary-worn by the world, hardened by hurt, and scarred by sin- and He gives me a new heart. And new mercies each day. I can hardly imagine that sort of reality, it seems so contrary to the pattern of living (if it can be called that) to which I've grown accustomed lately.
Lord Jesus, forgive me. Let me behold Your beauty and grace in such a way that the rest seems rubbish to me. Let me move past my self. Let me be moved by Grace to see the precious treasure that You are. And take this life, and the days I have left, to make of it something beautiful that points to You.
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