Commitment's Cost

I used to think of commitment as something like a trip to the pet store. I would choose which pet store to go into, look through all of the cute little cuddly puppies, and finally pick out my favorite, healthy golden retriever pup. Golden retrievers can cost a weighty fee, but I love them so much that I would happily slap down the money. I would commit to it by paying for it and taking it home to be mine, for better or for worse.

The problem here is that this kind of commitment looks only like the better... not the worse. It serves me, gives me what I want, when I want it, and in the condition that I choose. It's easy to pay for an adorable, healthy little creature of my choice.

Something tells me commitment looks a little different. Perhaps it's a pet store that has all of the puppies wrapped up in little grab-bags (I know that's cruel, bear with me.). I know I'm going to get a live animal, I can see it moving around in the bag... but I don't know what it will look, smell, feel, or behave like. For the sake of relationship (and for the sake of freeing one little creature from its inhibiting grab-bag!), I choose one. I must pay for it, just the same - and it must be the highest cost, because the cashier doesn't know what's in the bag, and it just might be the offspring of an award-winning pedigree. So I pay the price and the puppy is mine to take home, to be responsible for, and to cherish. I earnestly tear open the bag and...
The puppy has only three legs and a mound of other "problems."

Does this mean I can get a refund? Should I even desire a refund? Should I grudgingly keep the puppy for the duration of its life, constantly reminding the pooch of its second-class status? Could this mangled little animal, with its behavioral and physical ailments ever bring me joy, or be worth the cost?

It could be such a let-down. Or... it could be true love, the kind our Savior has committed to us.

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret* of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.

-Philippians 4:11-13-

*http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IpVsF4W8V2Y

Aslan is on the move.

Circling Surrender

In our walk with Christ, it would seem that there are always those things in our lives, those chains we keep surrendered to. You know which ones are yours, and you can bet I know which sweet little sins I keep safely curled up in my lap. Even though I am born again and have new life, I still keep a few secret sins around to keep me comfortable. Eventually, though, the Holy Spirit reveals to us that those sins aren't keeping us comfortable so much as they are keeping us captive.

Spiritual growth doesn't look like figures, it doesn't work out mathematically to create a line graph, or deal in the laws of physics. It looks like circles, great loops... and if you are earnest about growing nearer to the Lord, the circles move in a direction - toward Him. It can't be exactly charted, but it can be followed in steps:

Step 1: You branch out, and inadvertently fumble things and mess up. You seek forgiveness.
Step 2: The Lord gently helps you on your feet, dusts you off, turns you slightly and shows you the right path. You eagerly jump at the second chance, now that you "know it all."
Step 3: You shrug the Holy Spirit's nudging off because, after all, you "know it all" about that old sin (neglecting the fresh new form it has taken in your life). You begin to walk back in the direction you came from.
Step 4: You fall again, seeking forgiveness and repentance. He turns you and rights you again - circle complete.

There is nothing we can DO to save ourselves, no power short of the Holy Spirit is great enough. There IS, however, a part we play: surrender. If, right after Step 1, we would instead humble ourselves to surrender to Christ and the cross, then we would be able to keep Him before us and move forward to Him. Oh, the strength of the word "if" - no "then" is released until the "if" is surrendered to.

Thinking about this, an old memory verse came to mind...

So then, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure.

- Philippians 2:12-13 -