Take My Hand

I'm reading a book right now, what I call a "Christian self-help book", (basically a book that is non-fiction and written for inspiration, teaching, challenging, inspiring, ect.) and as I read, I grow frustrated and impatient at my seeming inability to grasp the deepness of God and to walk with Him.

The author challenges to live fully in the beauty of Christ. To live a life of thankfulness, a life of praise, a life devoted to finding the gifts God showers down every day and opening them, savoring them and thanking Him for them.

It's a beautiful way to live life. Savoring every moment for the gift tucked away inside. Letting your heart overflow with thankfulness to the loving Father who delights in giving you the best.

So why do I find this so frustrating?

I realized the reason this morning, when I was reading chapter six. The answer had nothing to do with the premise of the chapter. Instead, it was a whisper from God to my heart that gave me peace from my clawing for instant perfection.

I am an impulsive person. I do things without thinking, I do things quickly and I always want to do things now.  If I read something that inspires me, I want my life to change now. If I see something that I want, I want it now. I don't want to wait. I don't want to wander. I want to see it, do it, have it.

So, I immediately want my life to change. To savor beauty, to fill to the brim and further with thanksgiving, to show the world the glow of joy that comes when I am truly living a life devoted to God.

And, of course, perfection does not come overnight.

In fact, perfection doesn't come at all.

And immediately I am irritated, angry, jealous. I see others living this way, I see the joy of it on their faces. I see them being everything I want so badly to be.

But for me, the fulfillment seems just out of reach. I brush it with my fingertips from time to time. I feel the surge of joy when I truly enter the moment God has placed in my life for me alone. But that moment is brief, and it fades away. And I forget to enter the next. Then I read more and I am frustrated and afraid and I go on with my life, determined not to forget anymore. But soon I do, and then the feelings return. That I'm not good enough to do this, that I'm a failure to God. Will He give me more gifts if I miss the ones He already gave? Will He bother to reach down and open His hand if I forget to thank Him for the blessings I have selfishly snatched from His palm before?

I feel like an ungrateful child. Unworthy of the attentions of a loving God.

So I form in my mind a God of coolness. I make Him out to be a God who doesn't give when I forget. I see Him watching me, disappointed when I fall. I imagine Him turning away when I rush my prayers. Looking away when I don't do things right. I tell myself that He doesn't care anymore because I've dashed Him into the rocks so many times with my failures. And when I tell myself these things, life goes gray and the sweetness is gone and the joy fades away.

 But then I am reminded who HE is.

And He is not a God that turns away at my failures, who forgets me when I do not pray, who is angry when I fall.

He is a God who forgets my sins and sends it as far as the east is from the west. He is a God of joy who delights in giving gifts, even to someone as ungrateful as me.

He is Love. Embodied. Personified. He is Love and He can be no other.

So I remember this and take courage and try again. Disillusionment will still haunt me. Pride will make me stumble. Anger will make me fall. Frustration will knock at my heart. Unworthiness will darken my soul. I will still feel as if I fall short of the mark I make when I look at others who I see as being ahead of me in this race I have created in my mind. I will still wear myself out trying to be the best. Trying to attain everything I think I should. Trying to be the perfect child I tell myself God will love.

And there it ends. With me, me, me.

I will do this. I will do that. I must attain. I must be. I. I. I.

So where does it end?

Does it end when I am so exhausted that I cry out to God and say: "this is too hard!"?

Does it end when I have frustrated myself to the point of despair because I can never be good enough?

Does it end when I have pushed myself so far towards perfection that I have forgotten the real reason I am alive?

Where, God? Where does it end?

And this is what Jesus whispers in my ear. In the midst of my frustration, my longing, my efforts. When I look at myself and hate what I see. Hate the stumbling, the falling, the imperfection. The fact that I cannot do this. This is what He says:

"Why do it alone?"

I am stunned as I realize with clarity that this is why God is here. This is what He wants.

He wants me to give Him my hand and ask Him to help me walk down the road.

He understands.

He doesn't expect me to be perfect on my own.

He doesn't want me to push Him away and try to accomplish perfection on my own.

It's not something I should do on my own.

It's not something I can do on my own.

It's God who will take my hand and show me the way in His own time. I don't need to wear myself out trying to get ahead. It is God who will remind me to thank Him, like my mother reminded me when I was young. He won't judge when I forget, He won't turn away when I take gifts for granted. He'll take my hand and show me the way.

All I have to do is take His.

'Till next time,