I started my love of writing at a blog named “Love My Life!” I loved writing my thoughts out, whether they made sense or not. I would rant at times and laugh myself silly about the antics of my four little wonders. It was a sort of therapy. If you haven’t followed me since the beginning, then you’ve not seen the adventure that life handed me when I said “Lord, use me wherever you will. I will go into ministry, go into the mission field…whatever.” or “Please, Jesus, give me children!”
My heart, at eight years old, held the love of Jesus close and desired to follow him anywhere he led me. All of my life I felt like I was living the way he wanted me to.
I have only recently realized that I was pretty much living a fake life. I was doing all the right things. Taking pride in being humble…now there’s an oxymoron! I was soaking up the “I don’t know how you do it!” praise. Taking it all in for ME.
This fall, with my health taking a turn for the “Oh my, I think I am dying!” it put it all in perspective. What I really am was not who I thought I was. I thought I was living it all for the Lord. I was really living it all for me.
Pride is a sneaky beast and the sin I had been oblivious to. On the outside I was living a righteous life. On the inside, I was proud of myself but knew my failures only too well. It was ripping me apart.
I had begged God to heal me. I had asked Him to show me what it was that was taking such a toll on my spiritual and physical health. It felt like my insides were being shredded. Anxiety was ripping a hole in my spirit and body.
As my physical body was being rent
apart and I was at the end of myself in every way, I lay in bed and realized that sin was the cause of my anxiety. I was always looking at the external circumstances as the root of the stress. But it was not. No, it was an internal spiritual struggle with sin that was tearing me apart.
I was trying to look the part of the Christian Pastor’s Wife, Mother of Four Children, Keeper of the Home and knowing in my deepest parts that I was failing at my own expectations. It was all about me.
This life is not about me at all. It’s about HIM.
As Jesus ripped at the scab of my sin, I winced and cried. As he allowed other precious believers to speak into my life, the healing balm started working its magic on my soul. My heart cries realizing that I’ve wasted living my Christian Life for me.
Jesus, thank you for your grace. Thank-you for your love. Thank-you for the mercies that you show every morning.
I feel big changes coming on. It is a New Year full of expectation. I do not wish to know what this coming year will bring. I only hope that He is at the centre. I pray that His will be done, truly.