May 25, 2023

There was a word spoken today that captured my heart.  It was said, “You will become what you choose not to forgive.”  My cynical mind questioned the truth behind this statement and mentally I pushed back with a snap judgment of self-righteousness.  I thought this was trite and simply a cliché that finds itself as s sticker on the bumper of one's life.  But then it found its way into the broken places of my self-absorbed soul. 

 

“You will become what you choose not to forgive.”  I recognize that I counsel and teach people to forgive from the platforms and office spaces of my public profession.  I remind people that forgiveness is not a singular moment, but an ongoing choice.  Forgiveness is a choice that takes place every time that offense is brought to my attention.  Recognizing that I may choose forgiveness today, but falter and fail to extend that same forgiveness tomorrow.  Why?  Because God wired us with the capacity to remember, and our memories produce emotions in the depth of our being.  Memories bind up our wounds or create them.  Memories can ignite our joy or burden our souls.

 

What I began to understand in the quietness of my morning while sitting here at my desk is simply, we are what we know.  My thinking, my actions, and my worldview are heavily shaped by what I have experienced. What I have been immersed in and who I have been surrounded by quietly leave indelible marks on my steps.  It’s why there are moments when what I say or how I respond mirrors that of those that raised or mentored me.  They have left lasting impressions on my soul.  And what is down in the well comes up in the bucket.

 

See, unforgiveness is so poisonous because it becomes my drink of choice.  I nurse it like a solo cup full of emotional comfort in the chaos of indecision and self-deprivation.  I fill it up when I think it’s almost dry simply for the comfort of believing I fit in at a party of people I don’t even like. I think somehow unforgiveness will keep me in the cool crowd.  It will justify my words and attitudes about a person that I feel in some way superior to because of some arbitrary self-serving standard that props me up to be king of my domain. It gives me a false sense of control.

 

When my thoughts about something ruminate for long enough, they give birth to something.  That birth produces something beautiful, praiseworthy, and full of meaning or painful and ultimately full of sorrow.  If what I know and have taught is the practice of unforgiveness then that will be what I return to in my true self.  It might not come out in casual conversation, but it will gnaw at my soul in the quietness of my thoughts and sleepless nights.  As it gnaws at my spirit it shapes me.  It forms my heart.  And now that anger, resentment, bitterness, impurity, or judgmental spirit of another that wounded me so long ago, defines me.  I find myself in a heap scratching spiritual sores with the broken pottery of my self-righteousness, shame, and guilt.  

 

Today I have a choice.  I have the emotional capacity to extend forgiveness even when that forgiveness is undeserved.  I have the understanding that Christ forgave me in the depth of my sin when I was most undeserving.  Today I can pick up my cross and crucify my unforgiveness as I deny myself and follow Him. There is joy in Him.  There is joy in his leadership.  He leads me to forgive because I was forgiven.  I can even forgive myself.

                                                                                                                         May 18, 2023

This morning I heard a friend refer to the claw marks he’s left on all the things that discipleship has called him to give up.  That hit home for me.  The level of truth that comes with that statement is gut-wrenching.  Genuine Christ-centered discipleship calls us into a life that is not our own.  It forces me to look at my story and recognize the litany of claw marks I’ve left behind.    “Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me.”  That’s the call.  That’s the cost of discipleship.

 

I’ve never been very good at denying myself.  From my diet, my rhythms, relationships, and financial stewardship, my inner self has always fought to find its way to the forefront.  It clamors for attention like a two-year-old in a candy store when no one is watching.  Me, me, me, is that nature of our souls that we war with.  Self brings frustration and sorrow, yet it never seems to be completely silenced in our pursuit of something greater or something Godly.  

 

When I look back over my spiritual journey there are some things that reveal gnarly, altering marks that when given too much attention bring back a shame that reminds me of my inability to surrender.  See, I believe that the ultimate mark on my life as a disciple is measured by my level of surrender.  My ability to yield to what is greater, grander, and giving of His glory.  To choose His will over my own.  

 

See that is why I believe the cross holds such a presence in the redemptive story.  The cross was and is an instrument of death.  It’s cruel, brutal, and insufferable.  It’s too extreme to bear alone.  And my misperception of the cross has been my greatest hurdle to yielding to His will.  Once I began to understand the reason Christ called us to take up our cross, I began to recognize the freedom that came with my death.  You and I cannot carry our cross alone.  Our crosses crush our joy, our spirit, and our resolve.  Self cannot survive on the cross.  

 

The only way for me to take up my cross is to yield to the one who already overcame the death that the cross gives way to.  Matthew 16:24 reads:  Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”  If you fail to understand the order of Christ's words, then one's life will be marred with painful claw marks.  He says, “If anyone would come after me,” is the deal breaker.  I can’t pursue Christ and self at the same time.  I have a choice to make.  He doesn’t make that choice for me.  He invites me to pursue Him.  He welcomes me, but He doesn’t force the pursuit on me.  

 

My dilemma comes in the perceived weight of the pursuit of self.  The pursuit of self never brings contentment. It only brings a greater sense of my need for more.  He says, “Let him deny himself”.  As early as I can remember I’ve never been fond of being told what I can’t have.  It’s why Jesus says, “Let him.”  He’s giving freedom to freely make the choice of Savior over self.  Let him what?  He says, “deny himself.”  I must acknowledge His invitation of the refusal to give or grant myself what this world tells me I should want.  It’s a refusal of a lie for His truth.  So, he gives me the understanding by which denial is ultimately accomplished.  Death.

 

“Take up your cross” is clear about whose cross this is.  Not His cross, but mine.  He knows what I need to die to which makes my cross personal.  I believe Jesus is saying, once you refuse to pursue your selfish ambition, I’ll give you the strength to die to it, but not until.  The cross is the freedom, but the willingness to die on it, well that’s the hard part.  See Jesus gives assurance in his words, “Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”  However, you can’t receive that shalom until you take the steps to come to Jesus.  Once you surrender your will to the leading of Christ, He gives you the strength to endure the cross.  I don’t carry my cross alone.  

 

See, He finishes that statement with, “and follow me.”  If I follow someone in close enough proximity, they will feel my weight.  If I get close enough, they will carry my weight.  How closely I follow Jesus impacts the weight of my cross.  The moments when the Christian life seems too heavy to bear typically have evidence of the marks my claws have left while holding on to myself versus my Savior.