On This Saturday Morning

I’m just here at my work station trying to make sense of all that has happened this week.

This week started rather sadly. I got my phone stolen along with some amount of money. It was so painful that my phone was no longer with me. And I think anyone living in this 21st century will understand why the loss of a phone can be pretty hard to deal with. And then the money. Wow! I just couldn’t believe it wasn’t gone. I had so many things already planned for the next day and what do they say about money being the vehicle…? Yeah, right.

But it was all gone.

It really felt to me like I just woke up into a bad dream when I discovered who did this real injustice. It was someone who lived with me, ate with me and was assured of my love and affection. That really stings. I felt like Jesus and he was Judas. I felt like he was a turncoat; wicked, selfish, inconsiderate and ungrateful. He had done the worst thing ever and sacrificed all the love I had to give for a few days of pleasure in the wild. I felt like he was blind to the realities of a future already secured by the activities of loving people and would rather jump on the jolly train that will take him nowhere.

This morning, I feel he is me.

Reflecting on my relationship with Jesus I cannot but consider myself all of what I felt towards that dude this week. I am reminded of all the times I decided on my way and satisfied my self even though I had made a commitment to live for Christ. I realise how many times in reality I have been in this relationship with Christ for my own selfish gains, looking for what I could take advantage of or what would benefit me. I feel like I steal from God always! I don’t understand perfectly just yet but even the reputation for being alive in Him, that I have now, am I really alive? Isn’t that just stealing? Haven’t I hurt God more than this dude hurt me?

And then to crown it, Christ is demanding that I love this dude even now. That was kind of important considering the wicked thoughts that bombarded me over the week. I have thought about different forms of torture that would best suit my dude for what he did. I’ve thought of ripping out his fingers one by one. I’ve thought about cutting into his throat and bringing out all his innards through there while making sure he was alive and conscious enough to see. I’ve thought about clubbing his brains out with cedar wood.

I am so wicked.

What a wicked heart I have. I don’t want to excuse this as normal and though I know God forever loves me, I can’t help but consider the wickedness of my heart as compared to the beautiful and loving heart of Jesus. I want to be like Jesus so bad!

And now I just try to understand  how it must have been for Him to die for people who were doing everything He didn’t want and to continue to love the weak Christians and put up with their immaturity and selfishness even after swearing to live for Him.

Oh how He loves me.

Who am I not to love? What has been done to me to generate a sense of right to revenge or whatever?  I have done much more and far worse to my Lord.

And today, I just want to pray for the grace to live out the beatitudes, to love without restraint and to fully represent my Lord Jesus. I want to become more like Him and fellowship in His suffering and humility.

To be like Him is all I want, loving totally and forgiving totally.

So I forgive, decisively, and I choose to love. I miss my phone though.

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