Blinders
One
Sabbath, when Jesus went to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee, he was
being carefully watched. (Luke 14:1 NIV)
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Turn inward though to Christ and the stillness of
the move shocks you for you had hoped it would be more glorious, livelier than
that. You had planned on a great pleasure
to overtake you, a mighty rush of joy to prove your rightness but it is more
still than the breeze of the butterfly or the whisper of the creeping
lizard. The aloneness of the move inward
frightens you for it is at once quite final and at the same time
uninspiring. Yet you are alive and
living will take you captive, just as the antibiotic takes you captive with its
dripping health. The death of self is
not a dying death; it is a living death that becomes more vivacious as you
escape into Christ. Your tears will come
alive along with your wounds and terrifying doubts for the deadness of them
before will wiggle free with the life of Jesus.
All wounds will be cause for glory, all heartache a well of sweet
freedom and hope, all doubts a cup of faith.
Turn into Christ with each moment of the day, every trial you face and
temptation stumbling your plodding steps and you will gain a bit more life, a
bit more dynamic gumption. Your mind
will grow free of the former bondage that fooled it into thinking it was already
free. You will see and love and bless
and be a well of living water springing up at the moment within the hub and bub
of your normal contentious day. Someone
will feel your touch and it will be the touch of the Spirit slipping to them
with all the power of the resurrection of Christ Easter morning.