Sometimes I wish that I could just make the right decisions for the people, or forcibly show them the light. Some days I wish I could take their place in eternity so they’d be happy finally, and know truth. Most days this imagined switch seems more likely them actually seeing reality, surrendering everything, admitting that they’ve been wrong, and actually changing (‘Cause, you know, sin is fun). Yeah, most days that seems beyond impossible. I care about them, and they care about me, and part of caring is respecting what the others believe. Force fed theology does not foster good friendships.
It’s the last year, the last chance, but I’m lip locked and tongue tied. I don’t know how to say what I want to, so I keep on believing that actions speak louder than words. I want my second, or fourth, or whatever family to know the truth and be set free, but half the time I don’t feel set free either, so who am I to witness? I will not lie. My actions will not lie either. They know I love them, and they know where I stand. The question is whether or not they will remember when we’re scattered to the four winds and the one to water or harvest the seed comes along. Will they care enough to change? How much more time is left? Each life is ticking. Will I regret my vocal silence?
These people are made in His image, and I see Him in each one. It makes me want to laugh and cry and scream all at once, because it is so beautifully, horribly tragic that those who are so much like God, who are so complex, can ignore Him so thoroughly. Sure, some would say they believe, but believing isn’t the same as changing. Admitting isn’t the same as confessing. Is God working in their hearts? Is He moving them gently from one stage to the next? Is He chasing them relentlessly as they rebel, play their music louder, and try to tune out His voice? The truth wrecks havoc that we like to deny. Belief demands change, but we like to say that God’s rescue is a free gift. Somewhere by the astric on the eighty-seventh page it says that because He died for us He asks us to live for Him, and in turn and forsake ourselves. We forget to mention that along with your new life you get a cross to carry, that you are to sacrifice yourself to gain more of Him, somehow. We always remember “My yoke is easy; my burden is light.”
Anything worth doing is worth working for. All is forgiven, so go and sin no more. Be humble. Minimize your victories and focus on fixing the wrong. (Yes, I know, that last bit isn’t biblical but…) The Church doesn’t live freedom and forgiveness. I don’t. I live with voices of guilt saying “Do better.” I journey with burdens I claim to have laid down. We conveniently forget to mention the struggle, and the war. All is not won the instant I surrender my soul. No. Now Satan is really interested. Now there will be battles over me every single day. If I didn’t forget to mention all of the above then I would have to prove that the change is still worth doing, and I can’t do that. Only God can open the heart.
Oh, me of little faith! I can’t imagine God taking the scales off the eyes of those who pull on my heartstrings to this extent. I can’t imagine this big of a turnaround. I hope God proves the skeptic in me wrong. I want the ones so close to me to see the bright side of eternity and live on in peace and joy. I don’t want their choices to result in eternal torment even though I know it’s what we all deserve, so I desperately cry for the hundredth time: God work! Use me.