Friday, December 7

a humbled RA

I can't love you, because I love myself.
I want the glory.
I want your sweet curled words on an index card.
I want your attention and time.
I want your enthusiasm.
I want you to want what I think you want.
I want you to be simple and knowable.
I want you to be easily lovable.
I want you to put down your textbooks and enjoy being around me.
I want you to come to things.
I want your presence.
I want your praise.
I want your cooperation.
But I can't love you.

Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, “children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.” Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky as you hold firmly to the word of life. And then I will be able to boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor in vain. But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you.
Philippians 2:14-17

What if I loved you like an expensive drink poured out onto a silent altar? Giving freely of all of my me-ness, all of the Spirit working inside of me? What if I gave you the sacrifice of myself like Jesus did?

I want you to not come to my programs if you don't want to.
I want you to never be on the hall if you don't want to.
I want you to dislike me and my personality if you want to.
Because that doesn't matter.
I want you to know your identity as a cherished daughter of God.
I want you to live your life with passion and purpose.
I want you to know how immensely important, valuable and unique you are.
I want you to know God's desire for you when you talk to me.

So I want to start conversations with caring about you and not telling you my latest story.
I want to hear you. Really hear you.
I want to pour myself out without asking you to give me anything back.
Because you are you.
You are the gift, not me.
You are in my life as an example of God's creativity and love.
And all I can give you is the everything I give God.
I want no glory.
It is too dangerous.
And it is not mine to have.




2 comments:

  1. And you have humbled me. I told you that you are a thinker. Thank you for reorienting my perspective and attitude. I needed it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you. I have a feeling this is not the only time I'm going to read this. It's very encouraging and I look forward to sharing it with others.

    ReplyDelete