Since July 2010, God’s been showing me that if I want to truly represent Him, through a display of love, or joy, or any other characteristic, it has to first be something He has placed in me. You see, I tend to think I can do it on my own. Sure, I depend on God when I NEED Him, but do I behave as though everything I say and do comes from Him? Now that’s tough! But that’s also the beautiful thing about it.
If you are going to represent Him, then you need to be of Him, and the only way that’s happening is if He transforms you from what this world has made you, back into what He created you to be. I’ve struggled to put this into words, but last night, God gave me those words (in a particular form).
Although it is short, maybe one day I’ll revisit this and expand upon it. But for now, it’s exactly what I needed. I humbly pray He may use me to reach those way beyond my small reach, using whatever means He sees fit. My rhyme:
If there’s somethin you wanna display,
first turn to the Redeemer and His marvelous way.
Let Him teach you and reach you;
He’ll turn the wickedness of your heart upside down and breach you.
The more you make less of you,
the more He makes much of you.
It’s not about redundancy or an elaborate hoax of autocracy.
You won’t be a part of His light until He’s your only appetite.
He’s not a four course meal, and it ain’t a one night deal.
I want something this world can’t give me.
I see fleeting flashes of masterpieces, but none sustaining.
His future glory is temporarily replaced by my stumbling act of servitude,
something I pray isn’t alway misconstrued.
I so desperately want to be the man of God I know He has made me capable of, but every presented opportunity dashes away into the familiar face of failure.
Inconsistency has become a persistence, see, I take my eyes off the prize and begin to look around and idolize.
Torn, tattered, and bruised, I press on, feeling used.
Unloved, unliked, beaten down, I lay my self-made crown aside.
I’ve got nothing left to give, no fight from within, I no longer yearn for life.
This battle’s reeked havoc, leaving me with nothing but strife.
Motionless, I lay, as the darkness overcomes.
I tried to win it outright, but now, I leave the battle, having lost my sight.
So utterly destroyed, the anguish, I no longer try to avoid.
With my last waning breath, I cry out “Lord save your little boy.”
You see, we’re chasing the wrong glory, ‘cause that one’s empty of a redemption story.
For this very reason, Jesus took the wood, ‘cause only He could.
So next time you ask Him to save you, stop and realize what He already gave you.
Though nothing in this life is free, the price, His Son, said “I’ve already paid.”
And though you’ve already rehearsed,
we’ve got to stop acting like we’re the ones needin’ to be reimbursed.
We can’t take that purse to the hearse and in 3 days resurrect to reverse the curse.