today hasn’t been a smooth one. i knew it the moment i started getting ready for my day. it was mid-morning before i ventured to ask God why i find my heart like this...
truly truly I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies it remains alone; but if it dies it bears much fruit.
the hardest thing I’ve ever been asked to do
surrendering my feelings for joy
refusing to demand my happiness from someone else, rather looking to a good Father to meet all of my needs, which He does, through Jesus. but. it doesn’t always feel that way.
dying to my need to be right,
dying to my need for people to agree with me
when paul says of Jesus that he made himself nothing and gave up his life to death on a cross,
to understand the smallest part of what that means,
death to pride
life on the altar, admittedly not my own
the goal, righteousness
the reward, Jesus
inevitably this path chooses things that others wouldn’t choose
following this Shepherd inevitably looks like nonsense to people who see the world differently
and inevitably, people who claim the same trajectory will label mine a lie
then the fork in the road where the decision stands between accepting the accusations with grace, all for righteousness, for Jesus, to produce fruit
or
turn and fight the labels, the pointing fingers, the judgment
and the grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, remains alone, and produces nothing
but Jesus was led like a lamb to the slaughter, He remained silent
nevertheless His life (and death) have produced fruit that has produced more fruit,
and that exponential
on the hardest of days i practice
my life on the altar of my Father’s goodness and grace and stunning immanence
so people are allowed to remain on their paths, at the level of maturity in which God is working in them, the degree of control to which they’re willing to lay down,
and my mouth may remain silent
because i don’t need to convince anyone of anything (j tells me)
(and his dad reminded me, with such sweet humility too) neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow
His spirit alone does the changing work
it isn’t my battle to fight
my call is faithfulness,
my call is life as sacrifice,
my call is death
and if i ever achieve this goal
my life looks like kindness in persecution, joy in faithfuless
this,
this is the greatest reward
this is the hardest peace
this is death for the purpose of life
this is fruit
john 12, philippians 2, romans 12, 1 corinthians 2.14, isaiah 53
