Wants

I don't want to be a "professional" Christian. I don't want to go through the motions and the routine of faith or religion, walking with half-closed eyes and with boredom or complacency, simply doing the "right thing" because someone might be watching. I don't want to speak or share half-heartedly.

I want to see myself for what I am: an amateur, a messy child with grubby hands, running arms-outstretched toward my Father, the one who has washed and redeemed and loved me, the one who delights in me and is close to me no matter whether I can feel his presence or not. Maybe, especially when I can't.

I want to know my mistakes so I can see God's correction. I want to study the cracks in my frame so I can see God's grace fill every gap, overflowing and submerging me in grace that says perfection is attained through Christ Jesus, not through my efforts. I can stop trying to scrub my hands clean. They've been scrubbed clean by greater hands than mine. 

I want to sit still and listen, learning the sweet, sweet words of Jesus until I know them by heart and love them all the more. I want to lift my hands and sing, and dance for joy because joy is there and ready to be embraced. I want to embrace joy.

I want to see my strengths and be ready to use them for a good purpose, not holding myself back in case my strengths are not strong enough. I want to leap into and lean on the Everlasting Arms, comfortable and confident in their steadiness.

I want to be thankful for tears, for frustrations, for weakness, because these things drive me somewhere good. They drive me to Someone, to the Helper, to the Answer. I want to recognize the delight found in my Saviour, recognize it until it bubbles up in me and I can't help but laugh at the sheer joy of grace. I want to be amazed at the depths of the riches of the knowledge of God, his unsearchable ways, his vast wisdom and knowledge.

Amen.