I Miss Your Face

Well, long time, no post. Sorry, but there was just nothing to say. Nothing to say, that is, until the holiday season set in. (Insert dramatic music here.)

Just exactly where do we lose our fight? Almost everybody has a little scrap in them, but somewhere along the way it gets lost. We settle. Just give me my recliner and my tv remote and let me stew. Babies, children, teens and young adults spend the bulk of their time learning. There are hard lessons and easy lessons, but everyday they learn something new. Somewhere in our late thirties, we cop the attitude that we’ve been there and done that and our minds and hearts start shutting down. We become limited access people. Nothing new under the sun.

I’ve been wondering where I lost my scrap. When was the last time I saw it? I think I left a little of it with that goat I was telling you about just a few essays ago. I’m certain that there’s a big chunk of it sitting on the banks of a causeway in Tampa, Florida. But I’m pretty sure that the vast majority of it has been scattered among wooden pews and cushioned folding chairs. I gave my life to Christ and then I just plain gave up. All to Jesus, I surrendered. I became dead to myself, and alive in Christ, right? Right?

In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus.  Romans 6:11

Hang on, hang on. What’s all this, then? How did ‘dead to sin‘ become ‘dead to myself‘? Hmmm, let us probe a little deeper, shall we?

When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins,  Colossians 2: 13

Okay, correct me if I’m way off base, here, but this tells me that sin = death and encourages me to be dead to sin and the sinful nature. Could it be that all these years I have been laboring under (excuse the pun) a grave error? I’m sure everybody else has this one in the bag. I’m sure that I’m the only person who has misinterpreted this teaching. In any case, I am seeking to correct this unfortunate misunderstanding.

I’m me. All the lovely, awful, wonderful, horrible pageantry of God’s glorious creation walking around with a face. Sure, some of the factory settings have drifted and there’s some wear and tear, but He put a brain in my head and a fight in my spirit that marks me with His unmistakable thumbprint. To be anything less than who I am is an insult and a tragedy.

Dead to sin, yes, but dead to who I am, dead to the fight? No way.