buried in Christ.

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I started this morning with a bit of Spurgeon.

DO WHATEVER YOUR HAND FINDS TO DO. SO DO NOT WAIT UNTIL YOUR EXPERIENCE HAS RIPENED INTO MATURITY BEFORE YOU ATTEMPT TO SERVE GOD.

But in a jumble of wild and bold hearts, steely wills, stubborn words and the rush of a morning, our day went off course by 7:01 am.

The clothing wasn’t right.

The breakfast wasn’t right.

The medicine didn’t taste good.

As I am wont to do, I matched will against will. I stood my ground. I fought. I left room for my steely heart. So that when it was time to bustle out the door with jackets and lunchboxes and bookbags and the promise of a late sleep in the morning, I grabbed my wild and bold heart by the shoulders and looked into wide eyes. I let the screen door slap closed and held on tight with love.

“I want you to remember just one thing today. I love you so much. So much.”

And this is the prayer for my discipline. That it will sound more like I love you so much and less like You’ve missed the mark again. When my steely will takes over it’s hard to hear, this promise that I love you so much and I want good for you.

I lost my temper.

And I didn’t feel much like doing whatever my hand finds to do. And so I let the gloomy day wrap around me and I sank deep into the couch. I scrolled through the daily news and facebook statuses and blog page updates and pins, trying to bury my shame, fear, frustration, disappointment and failure in avoiding.

But I had found precious few moments for the truth this morning and it doesn’t return void and a tugging began in my heart that this avoiding isn’t the way to freedom. And freedom is to begin again. I wouldn’t begin again this way. The way of avoiding is only covering over with dry dirt, the kind that time and circumstance and agains will blow away. There is only one way.

So. I started over. I wrapped up and stuffed my hands in mittens. I strapped the leash on the dog. We set out for a brisk walk. I looked at the muddy red brick house with the charcoal trim and the hobbit door. And I loved how it’s yellow-leaved tree looked against it.

Step by step I buried my fear, shame, guilt, frustration, sin and failure in Christ.

I lost my temper. I’m sorry. I did not speak life. I’m sorry. I gave vent to my anger. I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’ll never get it right. Help me. I’m afraid I’m ill-equipped. Strengthen me. Make our memories short on guilt and long on grace.

Buried in Christ. Raised to walk in newness of life. Over and over again.

I started over and it didn’t come in wiling away time, turning a blind eye to what nibbled at my heart. It came in looking at Christ and how He covers all things. This is my heart for you today. If your day went off the rails before 7 am? If you lost your temper? If you forced your way? If you missed the mark? This is the promise of Christ. Start over again in Him.

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5 thoughts on “buried in Christ.

  1. Thank you for this. Oh how I am still prone to bury myself in shame instead of my savior. Also, our talk about “living loved” has been rolling around in my head all week. So thank you for that too.

    Happy Thanksgiving friend! I’m thankful for you.

  2. I love your writing. I always relate to you in so many ways. I know about the getting out and walking and finding grace and starting over. I do it every morning for miles. It keeps me here. Bless you on this Thankful time of year.

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