The clothes I'm going to wear

Declaration 6 [part I]:   The new creation that I am wears gentleness and kindness every day.

Read: 1 Corinthians 13, and Colossians 3

I will admit that in my frazzled, distracted, striving existence, and despite numerous nightmares to the contrary, I have yet to leave the house without pants on.  Thank goodness.  Though for those of you who know me, you know that there are days when this is a feat in and of itself.  However, if I am honest I cannot count the number of days I’ve run out the door naked.

Spiritually naked.  My forgiveness coat slung over my comfy chair beside my Bible, where I’ll remember it after I’ve dug deep into the Word.  My gentleness chemise hanging on the back of the bathroom door, where I’ll no doubt put it on after a nice shower.  My kindness kilt hanging in my closet, ready for when I put my best foot forward as my public persona, and present by best self to non-family people.  And my foundation garments of love, the ones that keep me from *ahem* spilling out all over the place, lying in a rumpled pile beside my bed because I just didn’t have time to put them on in the morning rush.   

As comedic [and hopefully not horrifying] of a metaphor as the above is, I’m employing it to remind myself of how absolutely important it is for me to purposefully put each of these traits on every. single. day.  Before I leave the sanctity of my bedroom and face any member of the human race.

Forgiveness…
The crux of grace, the thesis of the gospel, the reason I can open my eyes each morning.  Giving what’s been given to me.  Letting go of the proprietary right to vengeance, because God has canceled my debt to Him through the blood of His one and only Son.  Releasing the right to retribution for the wrongs inflicted upon me, just as God has removed the wrongs I’ve inflicted upon Him.  Saying, “I forgive you,” to those who have hurt/offended/actually wronged me, when possible, and meaning it.  Even if I have to say it again [mentally to remind myself] every day thereafter.  Because forgiveness isn’t a feeling; it’s an active choice.

Gentleness…
That attitude and behavior which turns away wrath, or at the very least won’t escalate the situation.  It’s the next logical step after forgiveness: “I forgive you for how you’re treating me.  I can answer you calmly.”  Or “I see your pain, through the cruelty in your words.  And I can respond with peace.”  It is the realization that every other breathing human (save the One) is sinful, and will at times fail, and is therefore in need of grace,  Just like me.  And I should treat them as such.

Kindness…
The mode of being which calls forth the best in others, which author Robert Louis Stevenson called the essence of love.  On the surface it sounds like gentleness.  But I think it goes deeper.  Gentleness is responsive.  Kindness is proactive.  Kindness notices the unique in each person, the thing about them that makes them completely different from every other person to walk this planet.  And kindness rejoices in that, with that person, for that person, and about that person.  It seeks out the good in others; the Imago Dei in those flesh-bound souls who were created with the greatest good in mind, by the only source possible: a perfect, holy, and Almighty God. 

Love…
The greatest of all virtues; the godliest of all emotions, attitudes, and behaviors.  Love is the foundation for all virtues in the preceding list.  It is the aim of humanity, the pinnacle of spirituality, the reality of Divinity.  God is Love.  Love gives and gives and gives; and when it seems impossible to give any more, Love sacrifices itself on behalf of the object of its adoration.  For those clothed in temporal flesh, love is dying to the will of self, and living for the benefit of another.     

I have to daily recognize that if I don’t purpose to choose and apply each of these traits to my spirit, just as I walk into my closet to select and put on clothes every morning, I will face the world as me.  Fleshly, worldly, sinful me.  The me that reflects none of Christ, none of the gospel, none of God’s image into this world in such aching need.

And that has me leaving the house as an uncovered, hopeless, aimless wanderer, who is just this side of nihilism.  Thus for my sake, as well as the sake of everyone with whom I come into contact, I promise to clothe myself daily with these traits, which are befitting a person of my station – a daughter of the King of Kings. 

 

Trust Issues

Declaration 5:  The new creation that I am TRUSTS.  She will not allow the lies of the enemy to hijack her thinking.  She will believe that her God is at work in her and through her, towards the end that all things will be HIS good for her because of her love for him and her calling to his purpose.

Read: James 1:2-8

Trust.  It shouldn’t be that hard.  The entire cosmos is a monument to God’s faithfulness.  Every breath I draw is a testimony of His enduring love.  Yet trust, the act of giving up my prideful I’ve-got-this or I-know-what’s-best-for-me delusions, is the oldest challenge to weak humanity.  It’s what seduced Eve into the bite that caused creation to crumble.  It’s what led Adam to abdication.  It’s what I struggle with daily.

Now, I have no problem believing God can [and did] literally speak the universe into existence.  Nor do I doubt that the blood of Jesus Christ is the sufficient once-for-all atonement for those who choose to accept it.  And I do not question the presence of the Holy Spirit, the manifestation of His power, and the endowment of His gifts upon believers.  I don’t even wonder if God will act on behalf of other believers.  My struggle is with whether He’s going to act on behalf of me.

That sounds rather double-minded.  To believe in God for others; all the while doubting God for me.  Without treading too far into more exacting theological discussions: it is, but it isn’t.  The double-mindedness to which James, the biological, half-brother of Jesus Christ, refers is not whether God will give me what I ask for if I just believe hard enough.  It is doubting whether or not God will give wisdom to those who ask.  Not human knowledge, not intelligence; but the wisdom of the Psalms (119), the wisdom of Proverbs.  The wisdom that testifies: God is who He says He is, and He will do what He says He’s going to do.  A wisdom that asserts that fear of the Lord and love of the Lord are requirements of those who desire to follow Him.  Wisdom that ultimately leads to surrender.  Because this wisdom brings me to the realization that I am but a mote in His eternal light; momentary and fleeting, helpless and seemingly superfluous.  And as always, in desperate need of Him.               

Thus I can do naught but trust God.  Trust Him when things don’t go the way I want them to, or anticipate them going, or even worst-case-scenario them.  Trust Him when it feels like He is hiding His face from me.  Trust Him with the happy endings, as well as the sad ones.  Trust that when I don’t see it, or when it doesn’t feel like it, or when it drags on and on, God is at work in me and through me [assuming I’m submitting myself to Him].  That He is using my time and circumstances to bring about His perfect will.  That somehow, through even me, He will be glorified. 

I commend to you probably the most difficult passage of Richard Foster’s Prayer of Relinquishment, at least for me—the couplet I’ve come to call the surrender.      

I surrender to you

I could stop there.  I should stop there.  I surrender to God.  I surrender.  Surrender is a forfeit of control, or any attempt thereof; a relinquishment of authority; a voluntary submission to another, in regards to my own person and well-being.  Trusting someone other than myself with my welfare, my life.  No matter the outcome.  No matter the cost.    

I surrender to you

my hopes,

my dreams,

my ambitions.

My.  My.  My.  All mine.  All what I want for me.  Lord, let me want what You want for me. 

Do with them what you will,

when you will,

as you will.

This part is the hardest.  What if You don’t want for me, what I want for me?  What if it takes my whole, entire life for these dreams and hopes to come about; what if I feel like I’ve wasted my time until then?  What if, in the end, it doesn’t turn out how I’ve pictured, how I’ve planned?  Lord, help me to surrender.  My wants, my time, my outcome.  Let me trade them for Yours.

For the sake of Jesus Christ.

I will trust that the Divine Man Messiah who hung upon the cross at Golgotha and the God who allowed His Son to die in my stead, had my best interested at heart.  Both now and forever. 

Amen