It's a Process

I have spent years hung-up on Paul. Not some guy on whom I've had a secret crush, but the Paul of the Bible, the Pharisee, the bounty hunter, the copious church planter and letter writer, the STOP IT guy. All throughout his letters, Paul tells those who believe in Jesus to stop acting as if they don't: stop walking "as the rest of the Gentiles walk, in the futility of their mind, having their understanding darkened, being alienated from the life of God..." (Eph. 4:17-19). Just stop it! Live like you are free --which those who have Jesus as their Lord and Savior are. But for me, that's been easier said than done; it's been tough relearning how to walk. Maybe the same is true for you.

Years ago, I had throat surgery. As a result, I had to relearn how to swallow. To swallow! Such a simple, natural thing. But, after my procedure, if I were to swallow in the same manner I'd always been doing it, I could aspirate. At the least, it would result in a terrible fit of choking. Everything about relearning to swallow was counterintuitive. They started me off with solids, even thickening my coffee and milk with a sort of gelatin. Only when I'd been able to tolerate those things could I move on to water or un-thickened liquids. Additionally, when swallowing, I now had to tuck my chin into my chest. Not what you'd expect, right? Normally, if you're trying to swallow, say a vitamin or something, you'd throw your head back, opening up your esophagus. Nope, I now had to tuck my chin to protect my trachea and my lungs. When I forgot to tuck or took too large of a gulp, I choked. It terrifying, but it was a process.

Relearning how to walk --now in newness of life in Christ, after we've been walking for years in the bondage of sin and death --can be a process as well. And it's required the sometimes unconventional and counterintuitive methods of the Holy Spirit. Maybe the folks in your neighborhood all attend the same church; maybe the new family who moves in next to you is really opposed to any sort of organized religion. The Holy Spirit may just be giving you an opportunity to use the gift of love and peace in a practical setting, honing those things in you, rather than surrounding you with people you love and people who agree with you. Maybe you've been praying about the new job you've been offered; instead, you might experience a health scare, which refocuses your attention on the thing He's been calling you to do for years, and you obey. Maybe you know you need to stop swearing, but you just can't seem to leave it behind. Who joins your gym? The guy who, when he's run out of obscenities makes up his own. It's like holding up a mirror; you are so repulsed, you stop swearing completely. You are relearning to walk, but it's a process.

It might be a long process, however. There are Christians who have struggled with gossip for years. If you need a prayer warrior or a faithful giver or a servant, they are your people, but every so often, they just can't keep loose lips zipped. Or Christians who are still working through substance abuse. They walk, they run, they soar, and they fall on occasion; but they repent and lean into truth, praying and hoping they will resist the next time. And I don't mean this is the way it's supposed to be, but I also don't believe failure has no purpose. Jesus tells us that in this world we will have trouble, and instructs us how to restore relationships with our Christians brothers and sisters; we are told to teach and admonish one another, forgive one another, and to confess our sins to and pray for one another. Would we need these things if we were all getting everything right all of the time? Failure can help us understand the struggles of others. Failure can keep us humble. It can show us the ways we are resisting that aren't working, and it can give us a window into the situations that can cause us to mess up in the first place --the times and places the Accuser is likely to make his appearance. Failure can be a part of the process. 

We need the teachers like Paul. Today, Paul is to my Christian walk what choking was to my relearning to swallow. Just stop it! Do what you know you're supposed to do. Stop insisting on your own way, or what you used to know. One by one, and by the grace of God, I am burning ships. I am committed to walking away from things I used to do or say or love, things that were the result of my separation from Jesus, and I am turning fully toward Him. I am not as fixated on what I am doing (or not doing), as I am on Jesus, the Reason I'm doing it. But it is a process.

Photo courtesy LuAnn Martin