From external appearances, things were perfect.
Internally, my heart is a battle ground. Jesus, in all his splendor, tells me he is faithful and true. Control grabs at my heart telling me I'm the only one that maintains it well.
Comfort tells me I deserve more then what I am given.
My desires quickly turn into rights, which leaves me hopelessly dissatisfied.
And Jesus faded away.
Because my eyes were on the prize and not on his face.
But things were fine. I was okay.
The Spirit began his word of convicting as He always does
and we started to sing, "Hosanna, Hosanna, Hosanna in the Highest!"
As we sang praises to our Lord, I was assaulted with a vision of praise that took place 2,000 years before.
There was a large crowd of people, it was the heart of the city. The usual sounds of the city surrounded. Friends jubilantly greeting friends. Trades happening. A normal setting for a week before the annual celebration of Passover.
Jesus borrowed a donkey and rode into the city.
As the people saw him coming a peculiar state of worship washed over them. It was as if in that moment, many saw him for what he truly was. The King of the Jews, the Redeemer, The Savior.
The moment must have been wonderful. As they turned from making daily food purchases, their hearts filled with gratitude and relief. The people threw off their cloaks to make a royal carpet for the King. They ran to the trees and took branches to lay at his feet. Words filled their mouths, "Hosanna to the son of David! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest."
Then I saw myself in the story, I was not one in the crowd. I was sitting on a throne. I had a crown on my head and I was in control. I was basking in the rule of my own life. Then I heard the people singing, loudly and jubilantly. Why were they singing?
Then I saw him. In one moment, I saw his beauty and his splendor. I saw his perfect deeds and I saw his miracles. I remembered who He was in my life. Shame washed over me. I was wearing his crown. I was sitting on his throne. Immediately, I was face on the ground. I could not bear to look up at him. How could He accept me now? When I had deliberately stolen his glory? When I had seen two warring desires in my heart and chosen my desires for comfort and control instead of surrendered trust in Him. My knuckles were so white, holding so tightly onto things that never even belonged to me.
How often do I rob him of his Kingship, terrified that He won't act on my behalf? How often do I push Him off the throne that is rightfully His, claiming that I know best?
How many times has He looked at me with grace-filled eyes telling me He still loves him? Telling me I'm still His? Telling me I'm worth something.
My King is a good, steadfast ruler. He sees beyond my demands for power as cries for help. Because hidden beneath our carefully constructed masks of control are pleas for mercy as everything we know to be true slips from our fingertips and we want someone bigger than ourselves to hold it tight. Hidden behind my pride that makes me believe I'm something big, is a frightened child that isn't sure she's really worth anything.
Here I stand once again, clinging tightly to rights that don't even belong to me, and a crown that doesn't fit my head and I fall to my knees.
Because when I see Jesus riding through the crowds on a donkey as all the people shout "HOSANNA!" I cannot look up. The putrid stench of my sin is unbearable in his sight. This sin of autonomy and elevated pride has stood in the way once again. And I cannot bear to look up to His illuminating light. The dusty corners of my life are brought into light in His presence and my sin is too much for me to bear.
He comes though. And he looks me in the eye, and just his touch is burning away the shame in me. He sits on the throne that is rightfully his. As I wait for my punishment, I look up and only see everlasting forgiveness and a stunning love.
In my trembling act of surrender, I met the Lord.
He is not a God who will settle to be my personal genie granting my every wish.
He is not a God who is distant and uncaring.
He is a jealous fire, who pursues relentlessly. In our whoring of other gods, he comes for our hearts.
He does not settle. He demands everything, my entire heart. He does not just want a room, he wants the whole house, even the dusty corners.
I've had enough of making Jesus my boyfriend because He is my Lord, King of my heart, and if I ever make him anything less, I am in the wrong.
Hosanna, Jesus is worthy of my praise. Hosanna in the highest! He is King of kings and Lord of lords.
Internally, my heart is a battle ground. Jesus, in all his splendor, tells me he is faithful and true. Control grabs at my heart telling me I'm the only one that maintains it well.
Comfort tells me I deserve more then what I am given.
My desires quickly turn into rights, which leaves me hopelessly dissatisfied.
And Jesus faded away.
Because my eyes were on the prize and not on his face.
But things were fine. I was okay.
The Spirit began his word of convicting as He always does
and we started to sing, "Hosanna, Hosanna, Hosanna in the Highest!"
As we sang praises to our Lord, I was assaulted with a vision of praise that took place 2,000 years before.
There was a large crowd of people, it was the heart of the city. The usual sounds of the city surrounded. Friends jubilantly greeting friends. Trades happening. A normal setting for a week before the annual celebration of Passover.
Jesus borrowed a donkey and rode into the city.
As the people saw him coming a peculiar state of worship washed over them. It was as if in that moment, many saw him for what he truly was. The King of the Jews, the Redeemer, The Savior.
The moment must have been wonderful. As they turned from making daily food purchases, their hearts filled with gratitude and relief. The people threw off their cloaks to make a royal carpet for the King. They ran to the trees and took branches to lay at his feet. Words filled their mouths, "Hosanna to the son of David! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest."
Then I saw myself in the story, I was not one in the crowd. I was sitting on a throne. I had a crown on my head and I was in control. I was basking in the rule of my own life. Then I heard the people singing, loudly and jubilantly. Why were they singing?
Then I saw him. In one moment, I saw his beauty and his splendor. I saw his perfect deeds and I saw his miracles. I remembered who He was in my life. Shame washed over me. I was wearing his crown. I was sitting on his throne. Immediately, I was face on the ground. I could not bear to look up at him. How could He accept me now? When I had deliberately stolen his glory? When I had seen two warring desires in my heart and chosen my desires for comfort and control instead of surrendered trust in Him. My knuckles were so white, holding so tightly onto things that never even belonged to me.
How often do I rob him of his Kingship, terrified that He won't act on my behalf? How often do I push Him off the throne that is rightfully His, claiming that I know best?
How many times has He looked at me with grace-filled eyes telling me He still loves him? Telling me I'm still His? Telling me I'm worth something.
My King is a good, steadfast ruler. He sees beyond my demands for power as cries for help. Because hidden beneath our carefully constructed masks of control are pleas for mercy as everything we know to be true slips from our fingertips and we want someone bigger than ourselves to hold it tight. Hidden behind my pride that makes me believe I'm something big, is a frightened child that isn't sure she's really worth anything.
Here I stand once again, clinging tightly to rights that don't even belong to me, and a crown that doesn't fit my head and I fall to my knees.
Because when I see Jesus riding through the crowds on a donkey as all the people shout "HOSANNA!" I cannot look up. The putrid stench of my sin is unbearable in his sight. This sin of autonomy and elevated pride has stood in the way once again. And I cannot bear to look up to His illuminating light. The dusty corners of my life are brought into light in His presence and my sin is too much for me to bear.
He comes though. And he looks me in the eye, and just his touch is burning away the shame in me. He sits on the throne that is rightfully his. As I wait for my punishment, I look up and only see everlasting forgiveness and a stunning love.
In my trembling act of surrender, I met the Lord.
He is not a God who will settle to be my personal genie granting my every wish.
He is not a God who is distant and uncaring.
He is a jealous fire, who pursues relentlessly. In our whoring of other gods, he comes for our hearts.
He does not settle. He demands everything, my entire heart. He does not just want a room, he wants the whole house, even the dusty corners.
I've had enough of making Jesus my boyfriend because He is my Lord, King of my heart, and if I ever make him anything less, I am in the wrong.
Hosanna, Jesus is worthy of my praise. Hosanna in the highest! He is King of kings and Lord of lords.
No comments:
Post a Comment