Living Life for Christ Alone

Deep in the fabric of my being, I have long had this notion that service to God is what we do to say thanks to God for the gift of grace He has given us in His Son, because I owe it to Him and need to prove I’m worth it.  It started as a notion but then grew into a passion. A fiery passion to not only say thank you to God by doing as much good as I could do on this earth, but also to prove to Him and to others that I am worthy of His love.  I am valuable because of what I do, right? Wrong.  But this belief is a snare that eventually had me tangled. Life has a way of slowing us down -sometimes crippling us of our human strength and zeal and leaving us with nothing to offer God but our broken selves.  In that place of brokenness, I also felt worthless.  Why? Because my worth has always been tied to what I do. The more I do for Him, the greater my worth, the more He feels my gratitude.  It's crazy how the enemy can take a good desire and twist it into a source...

“Abba, Father… when I bring broken things to You, don’t You heal? But why at times do You hold the broken things in Your hands -still broken? Why when I hand You the broken things, do You carry all the pieces, yet do nothing to put them back together?” I ask this question one morning, heart aching, hurt rising. “I know some pain isn’t meant to necessarily go away…” I try again, “But what is it for?” The question echoes deep in the chambers of my heart. What of the pain of seeing brokenness and not being able to do anything about it? What of the pain of seeing the broken people and circumstances God cares about and knowing that unless He works impossible miracles, nothing good can come out of brokenness? Sometimes, there are unnamed pains and brokenness deep within that are too deep to even describe with words. Grief that rises when least expected, grief of ongoing suffering of the silent kind. And I wonder… does God have a purpose in that kind of pain? I look around and...

I sat in the doorway of the addition facing our backyard, breeze blowing through the open doorw ay into the unfinished frame of the new room. It was nearing the time I would need to go inside to get the kiddos started on the day, but I knew I needed to pour my heart out to God first .   As I sat there, the words spilled out, emotions rising, feelings intensifying. This week was another week of challenges to our family –one after another, it seemed. I say another week because it is one in a long line of weeks, or even months of challenges, tests to our faith, and more. I told my F ather all about it, but the more I spoke, the more I wanted to stop, because the emotions I was having about it all seemed so... wrong.   But I knew He was beckoning me to pour it all out.   I began to speak the words of Psalm 42 to God...   “My soul, why are you cast down? Why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God! ...Oh God, my soul is cast down within me; therefore , I will ...

  “What do you think? If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them goes astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine and go to the mountains to seek the one that is straying?” (Mat thew 18:12)   Many going in the right direction, following the Shepherd, doing as He says...   But then there’s one wandering.   One, just one. That’s all it takes to get Him searching.    One wandering off, leaving the others that are doing it right.    One forgetting to listen, failing to follow.    One falling into a ditch, finding himself stuck on a ledge far off the path.    One feeling alone, wondering if the Shepherd even cares.    One starving to be found, looking up and realizing he is lost.    One who hasn’t discovered he is lost yet.    I see Him looking around at His sheep to see that one is gone. Suddenly His eyes go to the mountains where they just walked together –Him and all one hundred sheep.   And n...