Skip to main content

let it go (and leave it at the cross)


on sunday in worship we talked about some of those negative perceptions of ourselves which we have come to own because we have listened too long and too well to the impostor (see yesterday's post).  and we remembered together what God has to say on the subject, that we are loved and chosen and worth every ounce of sweat and blood that God could shed.  it's a beautiful love - more beautiful than we can possibly behold or comprehend.  and so, rather than trust in it and live into it, we so often opt for denying it all together, or buying into a lie instead, a lie which has been slithering it's way into our ears since life first sprung from the garden.  "don't trust God," the lie says.  "trust yourself.  you know better than God."

and so we trust ourselves.  and ourselves come to believe that we are unlovable and fat and worthless and unforgivable.

so at church on sunday, we wrote some of those lies down, some of those old and well-worn perceptions of ourselves which only serve as heavy and unnecessary baggage on the journey.  we wrote then down, owned them, and then took them to the cross in our sanctuary and put them on the cross, as a reminder that Jesus put to death all that stuff.  his love gives victory.  it gives hope.  it gives life.  it causes life to burst forth from all the cracks.  so we need to surrender our death-clamp on the lies that keep us from believing and embracing and experiencing all that color-bursting, hope-filled, heart-thumping life.

what about you?  are you feeling a bit aimless this lent?  there's still time.  why don't you begin by spending some time in prayer and meditation, reflecting on what false images of yourself you are carrying around, holding you down and holding you back and keeping you from really resting in the loving embrace of God?  start there.  leave the garbage at the cross.  and see where this journey of lent will lead you....

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

#thoughtsandprayers

i made these comments and prayed the following prayer at one of our worship services at SPWF yesterday, and had a few folks asked if i would post them, so there they are: 
It has been a season of terrible tragedy.  And I have noticed in the news a trending phrase: thoughts and prayers.  It even has its own hashtag on twitter and other social media, but net necessarily in a good way.  People are understandably tired of hearing about others’ thoughts and prayers, when that is only a thinly-veiled way of saying that our only obligation to those who suffer is a brief moment of silence, or nothing more than a tweet or public statement.  The truth is that, for those of us who follow Jesus, much is required when our neighbors suffer.  We are called to do justice where we can, to love kindness and mercy, and to walk with God through it all.  But let us be careful not to throw out the proverbial baby with the bathwater.  We are, as people of faith, those who know that prayer is not simply an em…

a divided tree

there is a tree in my back yard.  i'm pretty sure it's an oak tree.  at least that's what i think Shannon told me.  i don't know my oaks from my maples, my elms from my locusts.  to me, it's a tree: a corinthian column bursting up into life and glory.  full of sap and pulp and rings and bugs and cells pulsing with water and always reaching for something.  it is full of rhythm, reach and flourish then fall and die, and repeat. 

this particular tree, though, isn't of one mind. 

half of it's rusted orange leaves have given up their grip and surrendered -gracefully or not - to the pull of gravity and the threat of winter.  the north side of this inauspicious oak is just about bare naked, all sticks and straight lines, a skeleton of itself.  but the side that looks south is stubbornly resisting change.  no longer green, the leaves have compromised their summer vibrancy, but they are clearly not ready to concede death just yet. 

i feel like i can relate to this …

vote. and pray. but do not be afraid (the King is alive).

i'm not sure how many americans right now are feeling optimistic about the government.  i know i'm not.  in fact, while i didn't live through the civil war or anything, i have to think that faith in our elected leaders - indeed the whole system of electing them in the first place - is at one of its lowest points.  i just don't have a great deal of confidence in those individuals who have been elected, or in those who want to be.  i find myself slipping at times into what feels like a swamp of apathy: sinking, to be sure, but not sure that i care enough anymore to do much about it.  i see this attitude all around me: in conversations, on social media, and in popular culture.  perhaps there is no more clear indication of our nation's view of the government than this current election season, when we would teeter on electing liars and thieves, crooks and clowns. 

which is why i was so startled as i sat down to read psalm 72 this morning. as i read the ancient song, i…