My dog eats old tissue. It's pretty much the most disgusting thing I have observed- well, one of the top 10 at least. She just noses around in the various trash cans in my home, skipping left over scraps of tasty food wrappers, until she finds that fluffy balled up mass she loves so. She then moves to another room and munches on it joyfully. Though I am aware of my denial, I like to think I catch her the majority of the time and am able to stop her before she begins the digestion processes. But truthfully what happens is this: I holler her name sternly from whatever room I am observing her from, she glances around guiltily, usually meeting my eyes, and then hastily scarfs down the last bit of tissue before running in to greet me. I have begun to consider just letting her do as she pleases and writing it off as my one contribution to the recycling movement.
That said, I realized this today, as I watched my dog eat yet another tissue, that I am just like her. When I hear my own Master calling my name while in the midst of getting off track I am quick to look around in response. But when he pushes me to let go of my own vices I am ready to comply after I gobble up that last little bit. I know the things I hold onto ( my need for control, my desire to be thin, my obsessive need to make everyone happy, or my tendency to watch hours of TV without once spending time with Jesus) hold no life supporting nutrients- yet, I can't seem to help but crawl back into my corner and pull out that fried Twinkie when I think no one is looking.
I have been thinking a lot about what Jesus did for us in dying and coming back to life. There are moments when the magnitude of His love and His sacrifice hit me so hard that I have to strain to keep myself from falling on my face in worship. The other day I was walking along the beach with some amazing people of God and this topic came up. As soon as the words bubbled into my brain it took all I had to keep from falling to my knees in thanks. I do not share this to show some elite form of holiness or to even say anything positive about myself. Rather, it is more of a personal challenge to myself. I want to be a woman so inebriated by the Redeemer that I lose all inhibitions when it comes to worshiping Him for who he is. I would like to give in next time my gratitude draws me to the floor (I say that with the slight fear that it will happen next in Wal-Mart). I have this fantasy of driving down a busy road and as we all come to a stop everyone gets out of their cars and begins worshiping and praising God right there in the middle of the street. Let us be spontaneous beings of worship. Not in a way meant to draw attention or to be disrespectful, but rather out of a genuine response to the God who gave everything so we could be with Him.
