Mochahantas, where is Jesus?
Im ma heart!
I love when she said that in her sweet little voice.
Almost 20 years ago, I asked Jesus to move into my heart. Immediately, He pulled up to the worst house in the neighborhood. I was so excited as I ran to meet Him. I had heard about all the things He's done in others. As I led Him up the walkway to the door, chattering, I could sense Him looking around at the overgrown lawn, quietly stepping over the weeds growning through the broken walkway. Hey, I thought, You said come just as you are. "It's ok", He says reassuringly. "It's a little messy in here, I didn't really have time to clean up." Nervously I turn the lock and open the door. It's a scene from Extreme Hoarders.
Embarassingly, I clear a path with my foot, for Him to step in. Floor to ceiling crap, I know that's what He's thinking. I try to read His expression as He gazes at the piles threatening to topple on us. He meets my gaze, "This will be fine" He says with a smile. He begins to pick up a few things, smelly things, rotten things like bad habits, white lies, foul language and so on. I reach out to try and help but I'm in the way. It goes on like that for about 15 years, Christ quietly working on the inside. Occasionally, I can hear things falling...You alright in there? What's going on? Does that really have to go? Most times, I'm met with silence, He's too busy honoring my request to be Lord of my life.
With most of the trash gone, it really doesn't stink so bad. And windows, I have windows and light is shining through. Now, for the hard stuff. He's graciously tender but under no circumstances will allow the piles to stay. They are my idols.
He moves to the Idol of Size 6. I explain how it really isn't an idol, persay. I just want to be healthy, you know. I run for it. I Jane Fonda for it. Sure it often got me into terrible fixes but it spoke when I was too shy to. It was my voice. I'd bring my offering of Gym membership and countless diets. "It's lifeless." He said. "True", I agreed, "my knees are a mess, size 6 moved to double digits and when I was married, I could not produce life." The altar had to go. Lord smashed it on the ground and the results were immediate. This worn torn physicality would not speak for me.
Phew, at least I had my hair. He fixed His eyes on The Hair Idol upon which I offered jars of creamy crack relaxer and cans of Finesse hair spray. I would spend all day Saturday doing treatments, rollersets, nightly wrapping. I wouldn't even go in a swimming pool lest my precious tresses suffer unspeakable damage from chlorine. Yes, this was a big idol and my grip was tight on this one. "Lifeless". "True, despite the offerings, My hair was falling out. But, but isn't the glory of a woman her hair, and all that, I started. He was not pleased with my misuse of Scripture, SIGH, I cut off my hair, THE most important thing in my life. Moments later the idol was incinerated. I had to learn to love what the Lord put on my head and not let it glorify me. Ouch, that was very painful.
As He walks over to another idol, I begin, "Lord, can we just sit for awhile. It's all too much." "Of course", He reassures, but He knows it's another stalling tactic. "I like what You've done. We can at least sit down and talk". He's humoring me 'cause I see Him eyeing some pride in the corner. I try to divert Him with some praise and worship but it's not really working. I start asking about the meaning of some of the painful experiences in my life, but His focus is on yet another area of pride. "Lord, how about that corner over there? That fear," I relent. "It has ruled my life, held me back. I want to be free of it. Please help me be free." I'm relieved as He steps over to this huge area of fear. I really want to be free of this gnarly beast with it far reaching tentacles and roots all under the foundation. It hisses and snarls, "Get 'em, Lord. Need some help?" He turns without a word and goes outside. I can hear the power tools revving. Yeah! that's what I'm talkin' 'bout! Hold on, why isn't He coming back in? He's working from the outside in? In front of the neighbors? Lord? Really? I am mortified and I think I wanna die! I see bits of fear (and pride? Pride was under there,too?) being splattered all over the lawn. Surely this could have been done differently. Goodness, how long is He going to be out there? Did He have to use those noisy tools? Look the neighbors are looking, some are pointing and laughing. I have to go lay down, I'm getting dizzy with humiliation.
My dear Pastor gave me these words yesterday, God cares more about your character than your comfort. I wish I had some poignant words of wisdom to elaborate but I don't. I am undone! Seriously, I gotta lay down.