HEART REFLECTIONS

Sheer ridiculousness

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‎The other day, I laughed. I laughed so hard I wanted to cry. And no, the tears weren’t as a result of the laughter; I was crying because of the pain—the sheer ridiculousness of what I call my life. Yes, I laughed at that. I laughed at the hidden hopes, the dreams I wanted outside of God. I laughed because I have these desires. I reasoned, let’s be sincere, I am human.
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‎I laughed at what I now see, how I now judge, how far the Lord has helped me to see that which He wants to give. I laughed at the remembrance that I denied Jesus sometimes, all because I was scared to live up to the demands He laid for me, to be associated with the name of Jesus.
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Thinking about it, it’s an honor to bear the name of Jesus—why am I ashamed?
‎A very good question to ask. But I am learning that bearing His name comes at a price, and can even be a stigma.
‎ I laugh, I realize!
‎ I am not bold enough to declare the name of Jesus and do shameful things—like turning tables at the temple and standing my ground that it is my Father’s house. I know I would blame it on the failing economy and believe God would, one way or another, want to provide for His people—while His name is being smeared, used as an avenue for fraud, and reduced to mere law-keeping with no reverence for worship.
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‎Might be a shame to be associated with having to make some decisions that go against the norm, to say no to the normal “necessary evil” which has become the order of the day.

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‎Questions arise. I take a look at the evolving society, failing systems, and ask myself if it’s worth it to bet on them. They seem more sturdy because I can see them, very visible to my eyes, and I can count the cost compared to placing all my eggs in one basket.
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‎But my heart, it turns, it cries, it knows it can’t go on in this lie it has told itself. It’s tricky—why the turmoil in the soul? Is the soul dissatisfied with this satisfaction it has fed itself? The things of the earth looked yummy, a full-course meal with garnishes. It can’t be that it’s not the satisfying meal it painted itself to be? Was I deceived?
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‎So I ask: what shall I do? Because going on this route looks very apparent that one has courageously decided to forget God, doubt Him, and scream in His face

‎”Hey big man, you are perfectly incapacitated to take care of what you created”.

‎I examine the thoughts in my head: whether to stay, or whether to stay in-between. But I have concluded—maybe in-between is worse than not being there. In-between is slowly dying: hands serving, hearts far away, and equals nothing but wasted effort.
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‎No wonder a man cannot serve two masters. Because if a heart wants to follow God, it must agree with every fiber of its being to give its all to the cause.

‎So let the Soul pant with reckless abandon and self-denial, seeking the true and only Wise One—its Maker.
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