Wretched - [Sharon]

Well this morning was bru-tal. Upon asking Jesus to show me what was up with my life, He started to answer, and I felt that familiar old feeling of panic rising. I could hear Him telling me that I am being stubborn. That my evil heart of unbelief is rising, and I am hardened. Oh sure, I can point to things that have happened in my life that caused me to clamp up my soul, and protect myself, but who can’t? Look at Mother Theresa: She was told she had to leave her station as a nun in order to feed and care for the poor and starving and diseased in the slums of India. Don’t you think that felt like a betrayal to her? Don’t you think that could have caused her to retreat in justified anger and despair? It did not. And if she can stay pliable, why can’t I?

Yet the hardness remains. So I suddenly began to cry out. In like a flood it rushed: the knowledge that in many ways, I have thought myself to be an obedient, and trusting child of our Abba. I had deluded myself into thinking that when He says jump, I’ll just chime in with the rote response: “Sure thing, God. No problemo. Missions? You got it. Poverty? Okee dokee. And even though I’ll bitch about it quite badly, even sickness will eventually be okay for me. Do what you will.” Yet I was conveniently leaving certain things out. What if He asks me to be in a marriage that is painful and unloving again? Would I do THAT? Ummmm....... What if He asked me to take a job that does suck the life out of me, leaving me tired and only surviving on His strength and energy? How fast would I respond to that? How obedient am I, really? How much DO I trust Him? Turns out, the answer to those questions is: Quite slowly, Not very, and Not much, respectively.

At this point, the reality of my selfish heart began to stare me down. I began to sob painfully. What can I do? How can I change this, when in fact, I don’t even desire to change? I don’t want to put myself out there like that. And that’s even worse than harboring the sin in the first place. So I’m sitting there, repenting of being so non-repentant. It was hellish. Oh wretched man that I am, who will save me from this body of death? I feel vile. Even if my stubbornness wasn’t an abomination to God, it certainly is to me. All I could do after a time of this, with my face in my hands, was ask Him for mercy. Help me, Abba. Help my lack of desiring help.

Upon opening my small little devotional book, which is written in a format of God’s letters to His children, I was nearly in shock at His clarity. First was Luke 1:50, which says: “...and His mercy reaches from age to age for those who fear Him...” Next up was Luke 18:12, stating: “...The tax collector stood some distance away, not daring even to raise his eyes to heaven, but he beat his breast and said, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’” But wait, it didn’t stop there. The letter said the following:

“Defensive One,
When you stop justifying yourself, I will justify you. I long to grant you miraculous mercy. But I can show mercy only to those who realize they need it.
I love you. That is why I tell you the truth.
Yours with deepest understanding,
Father.”

Wow. I melted. Here was confirmation that my confession of sin, and even confession of my lack of desire to change my sin, was all He wanted. I simply had to admit that I was all jacked up, and He immediately showed me mercy. And now, I know, He will show me how to get to the point of giving the sin up. He will show me how. He will walk me through it. Because he IS mercy. Pure and untainted mercy. And He cannot deny Himself.