Getting There

     From My Utmost for His Highest
They said to Him, ’Rabbi . . . where are You staying?’ He said to them, ’Come and see’ —John 1

Chambers, in today's post reminds us that the two disciples remained with Jesus that day and that "is about all some of us ever do. We stay with Him a short time, only to wake up to our own realities of life. Our self-interest rises up and our abiding with Him is past."

And as usual, Chambers hits me right where I am. In the Porch Story (if you aren't familiar, see a video of it here or read it in a sample of the first chapter of the book), I broken off the porch. I ran fast and hard, for a while. But the day wore on and I'm tired. I'm still headed home, but for the first time in a long time, I'm worried that . . .

 . . . I'll forget where I'm headed and stop or turn back. I don't doubt that God's real or that Jesus was Who He was or did what He did, but, well, I just don't feel His presence as palpalbly as I have in the past. And it doesn't help for Chambers to say, "there is no circumstance of life in which we cannot abide in Jesus." It just feels insufficient. 

Today's lesson also troubles me because of this:

1.  on one hand, Chambers says that only one with his (own) new name written in every part of his life is a "true saint." This is an impossible standard to achieve, so I'm no saint, but then

2.  Chambers says that saying, "I'm no saint," is an unconscious blasphemy against God.

I've also been guilty of saying "it would be all right if God saved [me] and took [me] straight to heaven." To which Chambers replies that's exactly what He will do.

This reminds me of a great sermon that Andy Stanley gave in 2012 called "When Gracie Met Truthie" where he said, essentially, that the church is at its best when we don't try and resolve this type of tension. He gave me this message that I included in the book that I'll share with you now. Essentially, God replies:

“I don’t condemn you. I want you to leave your life of sin and, if you don’t, I love you; and if you can’t, I love you; and if the woundedness and shrapnel of your sin leave you in a place where you’re not even sure that you’ll be able to walk away from the complexity of your sin, I love you; and if someone has sinned against you and it has sent you into a spiral of self-destructive behavior and you’re not sure you’ll ever recover, I love you.

“The truth is that you’re a sinner, but through grace I don’t condemn you and no one will ever love you any more than I do and I couldn’t love you any more Myself.”

EXCERPTED FROM A Rooster Once Crowed, Chapter 10—The Great-ceful Dance (pg. 173).
AVAILABLE FORMATS are linked at Full Porch Press. 

So while I love that sentiment, I don't have a critical wound. I'm still amazed at the wisdom God works out through me-I regularly think, "Where did that come from?" And I still understand and seek new ways to live the story of the Gospel. But somewhere in me, in my heart or head, in my love or belief, there's something that's not fully firing. So I'll wait. I'll keep moving on home remembering that Andrew, one of the two that remained with Jesus that day went home that night. But then, on a new day, he brought Peter. 

There's always a new day in Christ.

Lord, let me continue this walk. What started out a run, may still be a run, but I want to finish with You. I've left the shelter that I'd built and have no other alternative. I come with no conditions, but still, I come. My greatest pleasure is seeing Your hand at work. That is the water that sustains me and fills me with Your Spirit. I trust you and so I wait, walking. Waiting. I love You. Amen.

I love you.

#thegreatcefuldance
#aviewfromtheporch