Laid Bare

I've been in strange season with God for more weeks than I can number. More months that I can number. Actually, I'm pretty sure we've camped in the same strange space for years.

I've spent this season becoming overwhelmingly aware of my own sinfulness. Obviously, I
understand that this is a vital part of a healthy relationship with God. If I want to be made into the likeness of Christ, then I need to (1) have the Holy Spirit illuminate areas of fault and failure, (2) repent of those ways I've wounded the heart of God and offended the holiness of God and (3) cling to the Holy Spirit to see the fruits of righteousness manifested in my life.

But dang. It feels like my mess is all we ever talk about.

Everyone has at least one friend who wears a particular topic threadbare, hijacking every conversation to discuss their treasured subject. You know, when you are find yourself doing a mental eye roll when Crossfit or lawn care or Trump or essential oils come up in conversation. It's not that you don't care about the person or the topic, but ... really? Again?

My own personal depravity is not a fun subject to constantly revisit with God.

It feels like a never-ending dermatological exam. Me, exposed and vulnerable, laying beneath unforgiving light, clinging to any last shred of dignity. All while God just keeps taking note of every blemish, noting changes in size or depth. Murmuring, "well that's going to have to go" and "here's another one."

A couple weeks ago, during worship, I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I felt the gaze of God run up and down my soul. Again. And I prayed, "Really, Lord? Is this fun for you? Because I'm exhausted. It takes all my emotional energy (like ALL of it) to be with You, holding back tears. Can I have a break from this so I can breathe?"

And good ole' dermatologist Jesus replied, "I'm keeping you here until you can be here without wanting to cry or run or hide. My grace really is as big as I say it is. I expose your sin to save you, not to shame you. So until you can look me in the eyes, resist the urge to cover up or explain yourself, and you can really just trust my love, here you will remain."

So, of course, my knee-jerk response is to pretend I am so okay with being laid bare, hoping God will buy my act and leave me alone. Which is pure silliness, of course. Pretending to stay present for the sake of running away makes no sense at all. So here I am, a giant mess, fighting to be truly vulnerable and accept that Grace really can cover it all.

I put all this out there just to encourage anyone else who feels the acute eye of Christ - you are not alone. For those willing to endure this kind of relentless examination, I'm believing all the weariness will someday bud and blossom into a display of Glory.