Just a pebble...
In my heart, I am a runner... just like you would expect.
I flee from the things that make me uncomfortable.
"She wasn't iron when I met her, but she sure is now." A flinch and a flight. "That was a beautiful prayer." Hedge and run. "You have such a gift." Beat feet like Fred Flintstone.
How many times will I turn my back on what You did without ever pointing to You?? I can't reconcile or wrap my mind around words of encouragement and love. After all, I know me. There I am, at the bottom of the spiritual pile.
And that anyone would see You and mistake Your work for anything I have done... I run from that. Cheetah style.
Last month, I was blessed to hear a teaching on Peter on the radio. Let me just say, I am so stinking grateful that Jesus loved Peter. I have a lot of Pauls in my life. I need to read about Peter every once in a while to avoid being crippled by spiritual envy.
Peter walked on water... and sank. Peter denied Jesus more than once. Peter could not tell Jesus that he loved Him unconditionally. Peter was my kind of guy... a runner at heart.
This teacher on the radio kept saying something to the effect of, "Peter was just a pebble then, but Jesus looked at that pebble and called him a rock."
Peter was just a pebble.
When that pebble took his eyes off the Lord and dropped into the water, the ripples moved through time and space and fabric of my heart.
What Jesus speaks into motion, no man can undo. No thought or speech or plan could deflect the power and the blessing and the responsibility of what Peter would become. No action of Peter's could change who Jesus said he was.
And on that rock, Jesus built His church.
"She wasn't iron when I met her, but she sure is now." A flinch and a flight. "That was a beautiful prayer." Hedge and run. "You have such a gift." Beat feet like Fred Flintstone.
How many times will I turn my back on what You did without ever pointing to You?? I can't reconcile or wrap my mind around words of encouragement and love. After all, I know me. There I am, at the bottom of the spiritual pile.
And that anyone would see You and mistake Your work for anything I have done... I run from that. Cheetah style.
Last month, I was blessed to hear a teaching on Peter on the radio. Let me just say, I am so stinking grateful that Jesus loved Peter. I have a lot of Pauls in my life. I need to read about Peter every once in a while to avoid being crippled by spiritual envy.
Peter walked on water... and sank. Peter denied Jesus more than once. Peter could not tell Jesus that he loved Him unconditionally. Peter was my kind of guy... a runner at heart.
This teacher on the radio kept saying something to the effect of, "Peter was just a pebble then, but Jesus looked at that pebble and called him a rock."
Peter was just a pebble.
When that pebble took his eyes off the Lord and dropped into the water, the ripples moved through time and space and fabric of my heart.
What Jesus speaks into motion, no man can undo. No thought or speech or plan could deflect the power and the blessing and the responsibility of what Peter would become. No action of Peter's could change who Jesus said he was.
And on that rock, Jesus built His church.
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