Dear Me
Dear Me,
I’ve known you for as long as I can remember. I once heard there’s “a friend who sticks closer than a brother,” and yes, that’s us, though I doubt it’s what the proverb was talking about. I’ve been close to a lot of people, but you and me? We have quite an attachment
Looking back, it’s fair to say I’ve treated you pretty well. As a matter of fact, more times than I can count, I’ve put you ahead of anything and everything else. Agreed?
As we were growing up. I tried to make sure you were always at the front of the line. I saw to it that you got the biggest cookie on the plate, the best parking spot, the comfiest chair in any room we entered.
In school, I noticed the little things you liked, and I went after them. You always loved attention, so I did everything in my power to see that you got it. You still like the spotlight, so I’ve maneuvered to keep you in its glare. Now that we have the Internet, I have more tools. I post only the pictures that show you at your very best. Anybody would think you’re living the dream. Have you seen the comments people write about you? When you have struggled or had a hard time, I’ve done my best to keep that our little secret. I’ve tried to make you happy.
Sure, it was a little easier to keep you happy when you were a cute little tyke. A simple temper tantrum got the job done. Then, as we grew older, I had to be a little more discreet. You wanted to keep winning and getting your way—all the while looking humble and unassuming. That gets tricky! Not to mention tiring.
As a matter of fact, you never seem to care about dull stuff like bills and consequences and what happens tomorrow. I’ve said more than a few harsh words on your behalf to certain people, and you never warned me about the mess. You never told me I couldn’t unsay what I’ve said.
I love you, Me. But I can’t keep living for you. You always insisted that if I’d just keep you happy, then I’d be happy—as simple as that. But you know what? It’s not as simple as that. It never has been.
Me, I’ve let you be in control and sit in the driver’s seat, but it’s clear you can’t be trusted. You keep insisting you know the way we should go, but it always seems to be a dead end. I’ve looked into some other options, and I have decided to begin a journey down a different path. It’s narrow and difficult and not many choose it, but it leads to real and abundant life. However, and there is no easy way to say this, I can’t take this path if I bring you along.
So, Me, this is the end of you.
Sincerely,
Me
Remember the story of Paul on the road to Damascus? God takes Saul and reinvents him as the leader of the Christian movement, the first evangelist outside the Jewish faith, and the first great theologian of Christianity.
If anyone was disqualified for leadership, shouldn’t it have been a man who murdered believers and organized search-and-destroy missions against he church?
It’s not that Jesus needed Paul. The movement was already winning converts and producing leaders. With a twist like this one, God was up to something. We have to conclude he was sending a message.
What was that message all about—and what does it mean for you and me?
It means we don’t have a disqualification against us. How sad if some of us think God looks at us and sees an overdue expiration date.
Don’t you think Peter must have felt that way? Here’s a guy Jesus personally chose and spent a lot of time with. It had to mean something when Jesus called him the Rock—what guy wouldn’t like being given that name?
But after he did exactly what Jesus told him he would do, denying him at the moment of crisis, Peter retreated to his old life and figured he was off the list. Jesus had made it a point to tell him he’d fail. Why would he do that? Peter probably thought Jesus was saying, “You’re not going to make it after all. Watch how you screw up in a few hours.”
Peter went fishing, the only other life he knew. That’s it for me. My time came, and I struck out.
Out there on the boat that early morning, he reflected on the shipwreck of all his dreams. Jesus had qualified him, and that was a miracle. He had disqualified himself, and that was a tragedy.
Then he looked up to see a figure on the shore. Against all odds, it was Jesus, waving at him, telling him there was still work to do, and what was he doing out on that boat?
I still choose you.
What’s the past burden you’re still carrying? Adultery? Go talk to David the king. Lying? Deception? Abraham and Isaac knew a little about that. A sordid past? God chose Rahab, a prostitute. Anger and temper issues? James and John fit into God’s plan anyhow. How about a string of bad relationship choices? The woman at the well knew what that was like, and God sent Jesus with a message just for her.
Maybe today it’s your turn. Jesus has a message for you. It has nothing to do with your qualifications. It has to do with coming to the end of yourself, because that’s when God can use you in the very best way. By his grace, and by nothing you can offer, he chooses you.
AHA begins with recognizing your current location. In one area or another, all of us are in the Distant Country. The Distant Country can be defined as any area of our lives where we have walked away from God. It may be that every part of you is living in the Distant Country, or it may just be a specific area of your life where you’ve left out God.
The Bible says that all of us will find ourselves in the Distant Country at some point. Isaiah 59 explains that sin is what separates us from God. And Romans 3 tells us that all of us have sinned. Sin is the vehicle that every one of us takes to the Distant Country. It is universal and has been since the beginning. Way back in the beginning, Adam and Eve found themselves in the Distant Country.
It wasn’t that Adam and Eve decided to set out for the Distant Country. It was one decision. One sin and the couple was running and hiding out in the Distant Country, overcome with shame, trying to avoid God.
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