Playing with purpose

Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me.

Canned Heat

I recently read a question on a website. The person asking the question posed the question as a source of aggravation. Something not hard to deduced by their use of the word ‘Canned’.

I chose not to offer any input. I think because the question itself had already assumed a misdeed. Instead, I thought about the reasons anyone desiring help, or rescue, or support would be comfortable deciding what that help would look and sound like? When do we decide the answer is ‘canned’ or unoriginal?

What is at play when you are selective about the rescue? If you are drowning, when is it okay to tell the lifeguard what and how you should be rescued? Is it possible you are not actually drowning? Just failing emotional limbs about, demanding attention. Or demanding ‘especial’ consideration? Because you are no doubt so different from everyone else. You are no doubt so ‘especial’ that your dying is more significant. So unique that if GOD expects to offer effective rescue, it must be different. It must feel a certain way.

Perhaps what it means is that you are focused on a feeling, not a rescue. Perhaps it sounds ‘canned’ because you have failed to accept the effort of rescue that has been repeatedly tossed in your direction. You think maybe now is a good time to stop lying when you declare, “I don’t know why I do it!”

The things that frighten us, our ‘bumps’ in the night are not what binds us to our despair. It is the besetting sin that slays us. It is the besetting sin that stops our progress and our blessings. It is our besetting sin that destroys us. And because the sin is besetting, then we are intimately aware of the problem. We are intimately aware of why we do the things we know not to do. We are sickly aware each time we submit ourselves to those individualized temptations.

If we ever hope to be free, we must be honest with ourselves and before GOD. I have discovered freedom from myself every time I admitted, I didn’t want to be good. I have owned that truth several times. “I don’t want to be good, I want to be bad,” says I to the Lord. “Help me!” And help the Lord does.

In varied and numerous, sometimes shocking ways. The Lord sends persuasion to my soul. When I find myself in the grips of persuasion I attempt to cry out, “why!” It is sobering to be reminded of my own heart’s cry for deliverance.

Canned? I think not! At all cost, I want to be saved. At all cost, I want to stand before GOD in peace. At all cost, I want to hear “well done thy good and faithful servant!”

Lord play that commercial over and over again. I will cling to the repetitiveness of your message to me. From what-so-ever source of rescue. Let the words of your heart be the meditation of my living. Lord, please don’t take your presence from me.

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