Laurie said in her lecture this past week on repentance something along the lines of, if we don’t have a defined plan to put our sin to death, we’re not really serious about our sin. The Lord allowed me to see that I don’t take my sin seriously. Sure, when I see my sin and have to confess it to the Lord, I’m sad, I’m guilty, I feel remorse, but if I’m being honest, I think it’s more for the sake of being good versus the reality of seeing that I’m sinning against my God, my King, my true EVERYTHING who died for me to be able to have life.
I left study that night with a flood of emotions, first apathy in general to my conviction, then a pull up your boot straps type of mentality that I can make this plan and put this sin to death all in one week—oh goodness, if I could insert a sarcastic eye roll here to my flesh I would!
As has happened to me time and time again with my pull up your bootstraps and get to work mentalities, the feelings of excitement and determination fail me and I’m back to where I was to begin with, all because I looked to myself and my feelings to get me to make a plan to put my sin to death versus looking to the One who put my sin to death for good already. This particular time of excitement and determination did not last long at all. Basically by Wednesday morning after study (the morning after), I had overslept, rushed through my quiet time while trying to hold my eyes open, went to work, and my “plan,” which really wasn’t a plan at all, failed.
The Lord allowed me to stay here most of the week. I prayed for a plan, but I don’t know that I was really serious. I was going through all the motions of what you would imagine a “good girl” Christian to do—my flesh fall back. The day before Easter Sunday I read these two verses in my quiet time: “Incline my heart to your testimonies, and not to selfish gain! Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things; and give me life in your ways” (Psa. 119:36-37). Oh how I longed for this to be my prayer, my real prayer, my real desire.
I’ve been looking at a lot of worthless things—my new weight gain, my expectations of my husband and future family, the approval of everyone around me (did I say the right thing, did I talk too much, did I let them talk enough, will he still love me if…? The examples could go on and on). Even after reading those verses Saturday morning and knowing how many worthless things my eyes are fixed on throughout any particular day, most of the day my eyes were still fixed on the worthless. But there were moments when the Lord graced me with the ability to think on those verses, to really meditate on them in light of what I was looking at in comparison to Him.
Easter Sunday, as I listened to the preacher talk about Mary Magdalene coming to the tomb where Jesus had been laid on a morning that seemed so dark at first before coming to the realization that Jesus had in fact risen from the dead, the Lord brought these verses to mind again. The preacher talked about how life is mainly lived in the valleys, not the mountain tops, but the light returns and joy comes in the morning, because He has risen. We sang a song at the end of service about how joy comes in the morning and tears streamed down my face as I realized what type of perspective I truly have throughout my days, when the reality is that my Savior rose from the dead and I can have life in His ways.
Laurie quoted someone in another lecture, “What a man truly thinks about something is the heart of the matter.” What my eyes are focused on truly matters and it seems to be the beginning of where the Lord is leading me in this plan of repentance. I look at a lot of worthless things, maybe you do too, but let’s all fall at the feet of our Savior and beg for His grace to look at the only One who is worthy. The plan is not in full motion, but He’s forming it, and I’m thankful.
O Lord, “Incline my heart to your testimonies, and not to selfish gain! Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things; and give me life in your ways” (Psa. 119:36-37).
Planted for His Glory