.the woman I want to be escapes me.
I spent the day swallowing a lump in my throat for no immediately apparent reason. I talked to God a lot, and thought about the kids I work with. Their situations are heartbreaking at times. I also spent a fair bit of time thinking and praying on my own brokenness. To borrow and modify a phrase from code... the woman I want to be escapes me.
Been reading The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis... it's sobering, but good. I pasted the fifty second chapter of the the third book here. Read it... in fact, just go find the book and read it.
LORD, I am not worthy of Your consolation or of any spiritual visitation. Therefore, You treat me justly when You leave me poor and desolate. For though I could shed a sea of tears, yet I should not be worthy of Your consolation. Hence, I deserve only to be scourged and punished because I have offended You often and grievously, and have sinned greatly in many things. In all justice, therefore, I am not worthy of any consolation.
But You, O gracious and merciful God, Who do not will that Your works should perish, deign to console Your servant beyond all his merit and above human measure, to show the riches of Your goodness toward the vessels of mercy. For Your consolations are not like the words of men.
What have I done, Lord, that You should confer on me any heavenly comfort? I remember that I have done nothing good, but that I have always been prone to sin and slow to amend. That is true. I cannot deny it. If I said otherwise You would stand against me, and there would be no one to defend me. What have I deserved for my sins except hell and everlasting fire?
In truth, I confess that I am deserving of all scorn and contempt. Neither is it fitting that I should be remembered among Your devoted servants. And although it is hard for me to hear this, yet for truth's sake I will allege my sins against myself, so that I may more easily deserve to beg Your mercy. What shall I say, guilty as I am and full of all confusion? My tongue can say nothing but this alone: "I have sinned, O Lord, I have sinned; have mercy on me and pardon me. Suffer me a little that I may pour out my grief, before I go to that dark land that is covered with the shadow of death."
What do you especially demand of a guilty and wretched sinner, except that he be contrite and humble himself for his sins? In true sorrow and humility of heart hope of forgiveness is born, the troubled conscience is reconciled, grace is found, man is preserved from the wrath to come, and God and the penitent meet with a holy kiss.
To You, O Lord, humble sorrow for sins is an acceptable sacrifice, a sacrifice far sweeter than the perfume of incense. This is also the pleasing ointment which You would have poured upon Your sacred feet, for a contrite and humble heart You have never despised. Here is a place of refuge from the force of the enemy's anger. Here is amended and washed away whatever defilement has been contracted elsewhere.
Amen... I wish I had this whole life thing figured out.
I spent the day swallowing a lump in my throat for no immediately apparent reason. I talked to God a lot, and thought about the kids I work with. Their situations are heartbreaking at times. I also spent a fair bit of time thinking and praying on my own brokenness. To borrow and modify a phrase from code... the woman I want to be escapes me.
Been reading The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis... it's sobering, but good. I pasted the fifty second chapter of the the third book here. Read it... in fact, just go find the book and read it.
Unworthy of comfort, Deserving of stripes.
LORD, I am not worthy of Your consolation or of any spiritual visitation. Therefore, You treat me justly when You leave me poor and desolate. For though I could shed a sea of tears, yet I should not be worthy of Your consolation. Hence, I deserve only to be scourged and punished because I have offended You often and grievously, and have sinned greatly in many things. In all justice, therefore, I am not worthy of any consolation.
But You, O gracious and merciful God, Who do not will that Your works should perish, deign to console Your servant beyond all his merit and above human measure, to show the riches of Your goodness toward the vessels of mercy. For Your consolations are not like the words of men.
What have I done, Lord, that You should confer on me any heavenly comfort? I remember that I have done nothing good, but that I have always been prone to sin and slow to amend. That is true. I cannot deny it. If I said otherwise You would stand against me, and there would be no one to defend me. What have I deserved for my sins except hell and everlasting fire?
In truth, I confess that I am deserving of all scorn and contempt. Neither is it fitting that I should be remembered among Your devoted servants. And although it is hard for me to hear this, yet for truth's sake I will allege my sins against myself, so that I may more easily deserve to beg Your mercy. What shall I say, guilty as I am and full of all confusion? My tongue can say nothing but this alone: "I have sinned, O Lord, I have sinned; have mercy on me and pardon me. Suffer me a little that I may pour out my grief, before I go to that dark land that is covered with the shadow of death."
What do you especially demand of a guilty and wretched sinner, except that he be contrite and humble himself for his sins? In true sorrow and humility of heart hope of forgiveness is born, the troubled conscience is reconciled, grace is found, man is preserved from the wrath to come, and God and the penitent meet with a holy kiss.
To You, O Lord, humble sorrow for sins is an acceptable sacrifice, a sacrifice far sweeter than the perfume of incense. This is also the pleasing ointment which You would have poured upon Your sacred feet, for a contrite and humble heart You have never despised. Here is a place of refuge from the force of the enemy's anger. Here is amended and washed away whatever defilement has been contracted elsewhere.
Amen... I wish I had this whole life thing figured out.
3 Comments:
Depressing theology, meags. Are we a beautiful creation or better off dead than in our state? God knew that we would become this. And he knew that we would go to hell, most of us. If we are all this depraved and worthy of misery, surely the author of humanity is cruel. Or made a big mistake.
shannon babe, you have a tattoo, it says 'hope'. God is a God of hope... I cling to that hope, and trust that God knows what He's doing.
The Author of humanity isn't cruel, but us beautiful creations can be, I deal with the effects of that with my kids everyday. I look at the world around me and I see depravity, and I look at God and find Him to be beautiful.
This isnt a cop out, and I really dont want to illicit anger from this post, but I want you to know that I'm not a parrot who rhymes off nice sounding shit because I've been brainwashed. This is me being real here.
I'm stumbling towards trusting God even though I dont comprehend Him. I'm clinging to the fact that I know God to be good even though He isn't safe.
This is me being honest, I'm not on a soapbox and I'm not throwing stones. I love you.
The paradox of humanity.
God made us. He is perfect, and he made us as close to that as a created being can be. He knew we would fall; he knew we would sin. Before the foundations of the earth, truly, before the beginning of time, he planned the sacrifice of his son Christ, and prepared the still uncreated hearts of those predestined for salvation to receieve him... and prepared the rest for damnation.
Yet sin is not his creation or his desire, nor does his heart rejoice in the loss of one sinner.
We are beutiful creations. Too beatiful at times. But so ugly and depraved. I rejoice in the beauty of the gifts God has given me, but I am all too aware of both my slow degeneration and my frailty. All I can rely on is my hope in Christ for the future glorification of his church.
"Hope," indeed.
Post a Comment
<< Home