Movin' On

How do I move on? Past the guilt and pain and loss? Past the anger and sense of unfairness of it all? I quote scripture and profess trusting in Christ and His freeing redemption of my soul; I purport to rely on God’s will and his omniscience. But on days like today, it’s all a facade. It’s hopeless. I am defeated and denigrated and shamed. I thought there would be some victory, some bittersweet vindication.  There is none. Despite prayer and all the high sounding words, when I scrape it all away, I am bitter and defeated. I tried to do the “right” thing. And when I was falsely accused, I trusted man’s law to exonerate me. I expected family to rally around me, to take up my battle cry and side with me. I wanted validation and, God forgive me, I wanted vengeance. I yearned for my accusers to be defeated, proven wrong, and brought to their knees; I half-expected them to beg my forgiveness, and to reconcile.  

Yeah that didn’t happen.This is real life. People are mean spirited and myopic and, above all, self centered. We walk around in a self-constructed cocoon of our own values and desires, professing allegiance to our creator, but we only occasionally see past our comfortable surroundings to the bigger purpose that is God’s.  We (and by we I of course am including myself) claim victory in Christ Jesus and the Cross, but we balk when that cross is laid on our shoulders.  Take it off, we say.  It’s too heavy, too uncomfortable, the cost is too high. We chase after the admiration and support of others, and try to build up our own army to fight the evil and the falsehoods and the deception of the world. We desperately cock our heads to hear echoes of our own beliefs. And when there is naught but silence, we despair.  

Yes. That is where I sit right now, wallowing in the inequity, the unfairness of it all.  Asking questions that will never be answered and seeking the holy grail of acquittal that can never be found— not in this life, at least. I don’t always have it all together, and sometimes I am just so friggin human it irks me. Do I want to let it all go and trust God in his ultimate wisdom?  Sure.  Do I believe the promises of His word?  Of course! Do I know without a doubt that His grace covers all my ugliness , that His blood washes away all my sins, and that I am forever blameless in the Father’s eyes? Yes, yes and yes! Despite all those affirmations, though, times like these I seek comfort in the familiar blanket of self-pity and pain.I (gasp!) stop believing those promises for a fraction of a second. And that is when my feet are knocked out from under me and I find myself flat on my ass, head in my arms, hands balled up into fists.  

I can’t always be perfect. I don’t always reflect Christ.  

Good thing God doesn’t need me to convince anyone of his glory, or sell his magnificence.  Or promote his omnipotence.   He is God and I am not, He is the Potter and I am the clay, He alone creates, and I, as His creation, am here to constantly point toward Him and glorify Him.  

It just ain’t always that easy.