A couple of years ago, Keith Cowart, the pastor at Christ Community, took us through a sermon series that addressed finances and our debt load... it was the first sermons on money in which I never heard the phrase: "You need to sow a seed of faith"! Nor was it discussed how much money I needed to drop in the offering plate! Instead the importance of being free from debt was addressed... my husband and I started The Total Money Makeover by Dave Ramsey... and I wrote this as my declaration of independence! I feel the need from time to time to return to this declaration for myself... to remind myself of the torture that being under that kind of bondage brought to me and my marriage... and how free He is helping me to become...
Waking from the American Dream
I am slowly waking up from a bad dream. In this dream, I am a hamster on a wheel and I can't get off. The wheel makes me nervous, scared, worried, annoyed and self-reliant. As I try to get off the wheel once or twice, I trip and fall. In my embarrassment and shame, I get back on the wheel-- afraid to look up, running harder than before, trying to make up for the blunder.
But this isn't a dream. This is my life- my prison, the cell that society has told me I belong in.
I see a blanket of grace, but I dare not reach for it. I am more comfortable in this frazzled state on the wheel just because it is familiar to me. I'm even used to the flashing marquee "The American Dream " even though I don't sleep well at night because the flashing keeps me awake. I know just how to move to keep my spiritual wounds from aching too badly. And even the slight ache I constantly feel... well, I've learned to take pride in all my battle wounds. If I didn't have the wheel and the wounds, what would I talk about with my fellow inmates? I would no longer have the complaints. I could no longer contribute. I could no longer relate.
So I stay on the wheel a little longer... I have nothing else to do... I need to contribute to society... It's what's expected of me... But I stay on anyway, until tragedy strikes and I am forced off the wheel. I've been forced off the wheel before, but I've always been able to get myself back on... albeit, with a broken limb that one time (I still have that spiritual limp).
But this time is different. I am desperate. This pain, I cannot ignore. I cannot treat this wound myself. The wound is too deep. I am desperate for a true healing touch.
Fellow inmates shout words at me: "It's God's will!"
"There must be a reason for this!"
"You'll be ok!"
It's like putting band-aids on a broken leg... I cry out for help. I am desperate. This hurts too much.
He comes to me. He takes the blanket of grace and wraps it around me. He rocks me to sleep...
When I wake, my wounds are healed. Even the ones I tried to mend myself. Time has passed from when He put the blanket around me and the time I wake. I thank Him and I worship Him.
The wheel calls to me. I step back on and run. This is what I am supposed to do, right?
I see Him nearby: "You don't have to run anymore. I'll give you everything you need," He says.
How can I trust You? I've been so hurt and disappointed in the past.
"Perfect Love casts out fear."
What does that mean?
"Put on the helmet of salvation."
What does that mean?
"Think about the Cross."
You died for me there. Because You love me. Because I am Yours.
I am silenced.
And in my silence, I begin to work on destroying my wheel - The Flashing American Dream. It's empty and frivolous- chasing material possessions, chasing for a companion, chasing recognition at work, running till I'm spent...
I am still working on destroying my wheel. I mess up and get distracted from the demolition. I even get back on from time to time. But the Savior is near. And He's made a coat for me out of that blanket of grace that protects me from the winter of myself.
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