Surprise

Some friends of mine have recently been scheming. An elaborate plan was formed behind my back and executed almost flawlessly.

My birthday was this past weekend. I was convinced I had figured out this plan. I really had no idea.

If you know me much, you'll know that pulling off a surprise for me is almost impossible. I am one of the best guessers I know and I also hate being "out of the loop" which means I will figure things out by (almost) any means necessary. I am relentless.

These beautiful friends of mine planned a surprise breakfast. That they had managed that, was shock enough. But as I left the restaurant, I found the surprise had only begun. These crazy people had rented a LIMO. A limo, for crying out loud. Not only that, but this limo was taking is to Napa. For the whole day. 

It was one of the most amazing and beautiful days of my life. I couldn't believe they had done it. Not just that they had pulled it off but that they had exerted so much time, energy, and money...for me.

I came home and cried from the sheer magnitude of their love for me.

This week, as I have thought about this best of Fridays and what that means I have been struck by two things.

Jesus loves me MORE than these friends of mine. His effort to love me trumps them everytime. 

And should I not be more surprised by the magnitude of his love for me?

It has become old news for many of us, I think. God, ultimate plan, Jesus, yeah yeah.

But what these friends, who love Jesus with all of their hearts, have shown me is that I should be made breathless by him. I should fall at the foot of his most precious surprise, the cross, and bawl my eyes out because of how he loves. I should stand in awe even more of his surprise than theirs. 

So, on this Good Friday I'm full of sorrow. And joy. And surprise. So much beautiful surprise. 

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. 

Romans 8:1-4

Hopeless Wanderer

Prone to wander

Lord, I feel it

Prone to leave the God I love

Here's my heart

Oh, take and seal it

Seal it for thy courts above!

I realize that I've been wandering. I actually probably realized it a while ago, but just decided to ignore it and that it would be fine. After all, I'm secure, right?

I haven't been wandering so far that I have left my faith or anything that drastic at all. It's actually been the more sinister kind of wandering...the kind that is so subtle, you don't think it's a problem.

I have always struggled with praying. I want to pray. I want to be a pray-er. But I grow weary with it. My short attention span, distractibility, and overall discontent make it hard to keep it up. It's not like I make a conscious decision to just stop praying, so much as it just trickles out of my thought process. Things like "oh, He already knows" or "what's the point of asking, He's going to do what He wants anyway" usually fuel the fire behind not praying. I'm probably not supposed to think stuff like that. Whoops.

I picture the kind of wandering I'm doing to be something like a stake in the ground, with a rope and my foot tied to it. My faith is the rope that holds me to the stake that is Jesus. My God-given, hard-earned faith will keep me tied to him. Maybe it would be a chain, so it's less severable? (This analogy is not worked out all the way, clearly). There isn't any chance of me just freeing myself from the stake. But instead I somehow manage to stretch out my rope so I'm just a little bit further away. As much as I know that I should always want to be as close to the Lord as possible, sometimes I just don't want to. When things are hard. Or actually more when things are mediocre - mediocre is easier to wander in because my need for Him isn't as clearly visible.

It's not till I start to feel all weird and uncomfortable that I realize I've stretched my rope too far. I probably make it far enough to cut off circulation before I think that I should head back. Dumb, dumb kid.

So, I start back toward the stake with a sore foot and not much to show for my journey. 

The beauty of it is that He is always there. He doesn't move, even if I were to run around like a crazy person, trying to break the rope, or if I just slowly shuffle away. He stays in the same place. I can count on that. 

What a patient God we have. He deals with a maniac like me who wanders to the edge, even though I know better. And He continues to love me. And even if I wander, it's ok, because His grip is tight. And while I realize my actions are not the best and I repent for them, I'm still free. We're still ok. 

Make me to know your ways, O Lord;

teach me your paths.

Lead me in truth and teach me,

for you are the God of my salvation;

for you I wait all the day long.

Remember your mercy, O Lord,

and your steadfast love,

for they have been from of old.

Remember not the sins of my youth or my transgressions,

according to your steadfast love remember me,

for the sake of your goodness, O Lord!

Psalm 25:4-7