Monday, January 18, 2010
I am currently sitting in the parking lot of a Jack in the Box in Payson. I am on my way home from a weekend of skiing, sledding, puzzling, and spending time with dear family and forever friends. It’s snowing right now. I just stuck my head outside the window and caught a snowflake on my tongue. I have always wanted to do that, and now I can say that I have. I’ve been in a reflective mood the past few weeks. Not quite my typical self, but true to who I am nevertheless. It’s as if the windows to my soul have been cleaned with streak-free Windex and I am finally able to see inside with penetrating clarity. The funny thing is, I haven’t been too thrilled with what I’ve found.
This weekend, I attempted skiing. Ha! Wow, that was a fun time. I spent a good majority of the time playfully whining (which is of course what I do when I’m FREAKED out of my mind) and falling on my butt. I have come to learn that I’m not a thrill seeker. Point in case: the thought of going straight down a mountain on skis scared me more than a mouse in a snake’s cage. I also learned this weekend that I equate my performance in any area of life (school, relationships, athletic adventures, ect…) with how I am doing in my life as a whole. That didn’t make much sense, but allow me to illustrate. I tried skiing this weekend, for the first time in 10 years, and I felt like I failed miserably. Therefore I felt like failure all weekend long. It’s stupid, I know. I shouldn’t expect to be wonderful at something that I haven’t tried or had practice with, but that’s how I felt nevertheless. With that being said, I think that I have decided that it’s okay to fail at things. Even life.
Truth be told, I’m starting to realize that apart from Jesus, my life would never be successful. With Him I am victorious in life and triumphant over death. With His blood I am atoned and now have the privilege of sitting at my Father’s right hand. By His wounds I am healed, because of His death I have forgiveness, and with His resurrection I now have hope. The lesson I learned this weekend is this: that I set my bar too high. I hold myself to a standard that not even my Father holds me to. I have been plagued with a mentality of “if I just work a little harder, I can do it” and that has blinded me to the truth.
“But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he has loved me, even when I was dead in my sin, made me alive together with Christ – by grace I have been saved – and raised me up with him and seated me with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness towards me in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace that I have been saved through faith. And this is not my own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” Ephesians 2: 4-9
I am a recovering Pharisee. And I’m done.