I'm one of those people who's always worked hard. Even my name, Emilee, means industrious. And I am every bit of that word. I'm not blind to what a gift this is, but tonight I got to thinking about my faith and how it's so contrary to my own nature because I can't work for it. This is what spilled out...
Toil and spin,
Work the day away,
Sleep
Wake up
Go to work
Come home
Sleep
Wake up
Do it all again.
This is life isn't it?
If at first you don't succeed,
try again, right?
But I try,
and try and try and try
To make my way
Do it all on my own
Make it alone.
Inevitable failure.
Fatally flawed.
Ring around the rosy.
We all fall down.
Pick up and try again.
Exhausted with myself.
Exhausted by myself.
Exhausted of myself.
Finally.
Something I don't have to work for.
Wait, what? I can't work for it?
I can't earn it?
I can't do anything for it?
Let me work for it.
It's the only way I know.
I need to feel like I've earned it.
Like I deserve it.
Payback for all that's been done.
But I can't.
A lifetime of being conditioned isn't easily overcome.
Simultaneously done and undone.
You are the only One.
My debt is settled.
Now what?
"But by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God--not by works, so that no one can boast." Ephesians 2:8-9
No comments:
Post a Comment