Up until today, this week has had a discouraging twinge to it. Nothing “bad” happened, it just wasn’t one of my favorite weeks. I couldn’t really put my finger on it until last night after True Beauty when I once again came face-to-face with an earth-shattering revelation.
I’m not called to be the Holy Spirit 2.
The girls in True Beauty (I would abbreviate but I don’t want to be misunderstood as talking about Tuberculosis) have so much of my heart and I want them to come to know Christ so badly with a burden that intensifies with each passing week. They are at the age I was when God in His mercy began opening my eyes to the fact that morality does not equal salvation, and my only hope was through His heart-transforming handiwork.
I want these girls to experience that same thing. I want them to see God as more than a supreme being with wrath and justice and I want them to see Jesus as more than a storybook figure. They are the very source of life, acceptance and love they so desperately crave.
As I was praying for them last night and confessing to God my discouragement at their lack of conversion, He gently and lovingly reminded me of my place. It’s not on any sort of throne or really large thing above people- it’s on my knees. It’s on campus at Murray. It’s at press conferences, in the newsroom, and in my column. It’s in the classroom, kitchen, and craft room, teaching these precious girls about Him. It’s not my place or duty to save, it’s my place to speak the truth I’ve received and leave the details to God.
God’s infinite and gloriously sweet grace never fails to humble and leave me amazed and awestruck at His love- He loves me! Me. Why, I don’t know, but His Word says He does and I believe His Word. It was His relentless love that sent Jesus to the cross and it is that same love that sends the Holy Spirit to convict us. What mercy! He could let us continue on swimming in our sins, selfishness, and seclusion from Him, but He brings us back and continues shaping us into the image of His Son.
Today in True Beauty a few things went “wrong.” The hot water handle broke off while the water was going which resulted in a phone call to my dad and buckets of water on the counter before a pair of pliers finally shut the water off.
The girls were working on making invitations to their final project in the craft room when I walked in and was immediately shewed away. “Don’t come in, don’t come in!” They squealed.
The next thing I know they tell me to go look at my door. This is what I find…
I may or may not have teared up a little.
Okay, fine. I cried.
Then as I was going through the pictures from the day I found these…
Before I knew it little rivers were running down my cheeks again. It was just so sweet and completely unexpected. I love these girls so much.
Please pray for their hearts. Pray that they will not have temporary behavior modifications to please me, their parents, or anyone else, but that they will have soul transformations. Pray that God protects them and saves them while they are young. He did it for me, He can do it for them.
2 comments on “I am not, but I know I AM.”
God's grace flows from a never-ending fountain. It seeps in and washes areas of our lives that we didn't even know were dirty (until we saw them clean). Kind of like how an old white t-shirt looks fine until you hold it beside a new white one. The dingy-ness of our "saved" life becomes acceptable to us, until God's grace shows us the pure white Savior (again…and again…and again).I appreciate your love for these girls and their love for you is a credit to the Father.
Dear Anonymous,I love that analogy. Thank you so much for sharing, it encouraged my spirit.