Letters to God #20 aka My Confession

You know me. You see me. And You know what an unmeasureable comfort that is to me. Yet, every now and then when I really think about what that means it also makes me extremely uncomfortable.

There are long periods of time where you let me get away with ignorance of myself. But then comes the time when you answer my prayer to show me myself through Your eyes. And I see truth. And it hurts.

The truth is I'm not all that loveable. Just when I think I've got this spiritual walk thing down and start lording over others in my own mind and self-righteousness I see the truth. I have such a long way to go yet. My goodness? It is not even qualified to be called good next to Yours. There is no comparison.

So here is my confession Lord. I get caught up in gossip. No, not caught up because that implies a lack of choice and responsibility. Let's just say my spirit doesn't want to gossip, but my flesh? It revels in it. Oh and I am incredibly selfish. My pet peeve is being inconvenienced. God forbid anyone inconvenience me or they will feel my wrath. I could help others more, in everyday ways, but I don't because I just don't feel like it and would rather spend my time doing things I enjoy.

Speaking of helping others? I have no problem throwing my money at a problem but don't ask for my time and energy. Someone needs mosquito nets for African children? Let me pull out my checkbook. Someone needs help moving, or cooking for a sick family or needs volunteers for church? Don't ask me, I'm busy. I can't be bothered to invest myself. And that donation of money? That's only if I have the money left over after buying a new pair of shoes or another book I don't need.

Oh, remember me asking You to use me? Well there are limits to that. Please don't ask me to approach a stranger with a word from You, because well, that's just awkward. Also, please don't instruct me to pray for someone in a public setting outside of church, because what would people think? I don't want total strangers assuming I'm a Jesus freak. I don't really want to do the small, everyday work of living the gospel. I just want to be part of the big, showy miracles, like blind eyes seeing, limbs growing back or raising the dead.

The saddest truth of all? I want You. I want a relationship with You, but only to the level of my own comfort. I want to plumb the hidden depths of Your heart, but I don't really want to pray for more then 10 minutes a day. I want to know You, but I don't want to invest the time to get to know You. I want the blessings without the trials. I want it all to come easy. My love is limited and conditional. I want all of You, but I only want to give You part of me. I'm a total hypocrite.

The truth is my heart is an ugly, bleak place. When I see the truth through Your eyes, I'm ashamed. Not because You condemn me for it, but because I know I break Your heart. And sometimes I want to just give up on it all because I think I will never truly change, that I will never mature past this place. I want to just accept things as they are because I am too discouraged to believe I can become better.

I consider all this and I think but.... But. But for Your love this would all be true and remain true. I am unworthy of You and unqualified to be called a daughter of the Most High, to be a bearer of Your Name and the receiver of your promises. But thank God (there's that but again), these things don't depend on my efforts, my abilities and my self. These are all the work of grace through Your love. Your love is the hope that I can become more like You. Your love is the promise that Your work in me is not yet complete. It's not my work, it's Yours. Your Love is the assurance that although You love me just as I am, You also see and draw out of me the greatness I didn't even know was there. Yes, You see me. You see the good, the bad and the downright ugly. But You also see the potential, the promise and the future inside of me and You call it forth, like an Easter resurrection. Your love calls the things inside me that are not as though they were. And I become.