Even At My Best

"For what am I without You but a guide who would lead myself to my own downfall? Even at my best, I am only an infant sucking in Your milk and devouring eternal food from Your hand."

-The Confessions of St. Augustine

What a picture this brings to mind. Slightly pathetic if we were to be honest.  Infants, without any way of feeding or helping ourselves, fully reliant on His provision for even our basic survival need; nourishment. 

This seems to be a theme lately. Recently a really close friend came for a day visit. We had a great time of catching up in the backyard, sharing stories and struggles, great new songs to encourage the other, and recent things that have ignited us. She mentioned something that, in honesty, made me feel a lot better. She said, 

"If we were to be honest, we are at our core a being that hates God and wants to be God"

This is sort of jarring, right? We want to always say how much we love Him. How much we desire His presence. How much we were made to worship. And this is all true. But is a decision. Naturally, if not for His Spirit willing us and our own meek 'yes', we would remain despising Him. Afterall, the very same desire of the enemy started this whole mess. And look where it got him. Doesn't it make sense satan would desire the same wicked feelings to rise up inside us, too?

I don't know about you but this actually is a relief. Maybe I'm not so alone when I realize how much I do not want to spend time with the most perfect, loving, holy God. Maybe it's not just me that gets jealous and angry I cannot guide myself and keep myself from harm. Maybe others wish, too, that they had wisdom and understanding without so much darn assistance.

The quote by Augustine really helps me visualize the reality of my position before Him. A child can never dress themselves, work at a job that pays, budget according, hop in the car they paid for, and buy some lunch from Wegmans. Instead, all they know is the hunger pain reminding them of a space that requires filling. Without any real understanding of what it took to bring that milk or food to their lips. 

And the most beautiful part? God doesn't always need you to understand. He just needs you to stop starving yourself of the very thing you so desperately desire and need while you to work out some futile plan that will enable you to provide for yourself. 

And that's where I'm at. After months of forgetting again of my position before Him, I feel almost like dry bones. So I've been coming back to His lap, opening my mouth, and receiving the nourishment. I'm calling it "Operation Dry Bone Revival". Ha!

So when you get tired of your metaphoric plan to get yourself to Wegmans, hop unto His lap.

The foods getting cold.

Xoxo,

mp