Sunday, December 2, 2012

Through a Disciple's Eyes

December 24th. Eyes full of wonder, I stared up at the cross in the front of the large and brightly lit sanctuary. "This, this is Christ the King," the chorus of harmonious voices seemed to ring out through the whole world at that moment. How could there be people that don't believe in a God that created this beautiful gift of music? How is it possible that there are people that don't believe that we have a Savior, born as a human man and come to wash away the sins of His people? I kept my eyes fixed on that cross for a good minute. Sparkling eyes that mirrored the lights lining this room then trailed off to look at the people around me. All smiles. Beautiful music and my family standing in a row, hearts full of love. "Lord, I am ready to live for You."

You will deny Me. 

Pride sparks the fire of jealousy. The fool purses her lips and brings evil to pass. Little did I know that pride comes before destruction. Friends divided. Witness ruined.

Sister is furious. Instead of building a dam, I let loose the forceful, spraying waterfall, as it tumbles down the hill. Hatred spills from my insides and from my lips like acid from my stomach. The fool cannot shut her mouth. The damage cannot be undone. Bitterness lingers.

A debate is sparked. No longer a simple fool, but a Pharisee. A hypocrite. I speak of love and kindness but brutally murder others with my words. "Legalist!" they cry. I shrug, only doing my duty as a Christian to tell them how they err in their ways. Apathy grows as a cancer inside of me for the very people God came to save. The perfect recipe for a hardened heart. A cold, stone heart.

The rooster crows. Jesus turns to me. Looks at me.

Oh, Lord. Chills run up my arms and legs. Those haunting eyes. Why?

And I remember.



I fall on my knees on the carpeted floor in my bedroom. Eyes blurred by tears. Forgive my apathy! Forgive my pride! Forgive every vile thing in the innermost corners of my heart. Sweep out every cobweb, every speck of dirt, every piece of filth. Forgive me: a Pharisee. Scrub me down. But how? I'm so disgusting. Kyrie Eleison - Lord, have mercy on me.

Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. 

Seek the Lord and live. 

Oh, how He is faithful!



A man looking on from the outside. Lonely. I can see it in his eyes. Do you love Me? One word of greeting and a smile. An almost forgotten smile cracks on his line-drawn face. Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.

A friend come to make amends after years of hidden bitterness stored up inside of me. No apology from her. Do you love Me? I take the glue and repair what has been broken, with some Help. Yes, Lord.

The clock reads 12:30. My hand reaches to turn out the lamp. I glance down at the worn pink Bible and the devotional book on the bedside table just inches from my hand. Do you love Me? I pick the Bible up, and turn to where the bookmark was left. Yes, Lord.

Every day, His call is ever before me, stronger than ever: Follow Me. 

Please be my strength.

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