Unforgettable Me
Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory (Colossians 3:2-4).
The closer the hour drew to the seminar I was to teach, the more anxious I became. I obsessed about my hair. I fumbled with my lipstick. My mind went blank, and I couldn’t remember my subject matter. Past failures and foibles paraded through my mind, mocking me.
I was a wreck.
I could not blame my nerves on busyness. After a deeply satisfying night’s sleep, I’d enjoyed breakfast in bed. Cozied up with coffee and my Bible, I set my mind on Christ and soaked up His presence as I read, worshiped and prayed.
I could not blame my anxiety on a lack of preparation. I had prepared my talk weeks before and reviewed it several times. It was a subject I was excited about, one I was passionate to share with others.
The problem was, I just could not forget myself. There I stood blocking my own path like a bully, challenging the work God gave me to do.
Instead of hiding in Christ as Paul exhorted in Colossians 3, I was playing hide-and-seek with me.
Sometimes it is actually easier to focus on ourselves, even in a negative way, than to step forward in faith and obey, doing the work we’ve been given.
This is a form of procrastination and spiritual laziness.
It takes no faith to believe in my weakness, to obsess about what others might think of me and my performance. But it takes great faith to do the next thing in obedience, trusting God with my reputation and the fruit of my work.
Unforgettable me, move over. I have a task to do, and it requires daily trust and faith in God.
But the question is, how do we forget ourselves and serve God the way we long to? #selfforgetfulness #humility #iamsecond Share on XThank God for His mercy. There are moments He allows in our lives that remedy this little game of self-remembrance, times we glimpse His beauty, completely forgetting about ourselves.
Moments like the morning last week I sat at a table with refugees and showed them in the Bible where God says they are valued and honored. I explained to them that He calls each of us by name and gives us a new name of honor, His very own name, and makes us His children through Jesus Christ.
They leaned close, hanging on every word. As I read the timeless promises, they seemed brand new. I forgot about myself as I saw again how much God loves each of us. I didn’t remember me as I watched the women’s faces light up with the realization that they matter to God.
I didn’t think of me a few days ago when my son called from the school where he studies two and a half hours away from home. Sick and tearful, seeking comfort, he poured out his anxiety over the phone. I wanted to fix it, to take his suffering away, but I could not. Once again I tucked into my prayer closet and wept as I released this precious one to the Lord. In the hours to follow, God showed me once more that He can be trusted to care for my loved ones.
Self was the last thing on my mind last month as I balanced a dresser between me and my Muslim friend while we carefully lifted it into a moving truck, talking as we worked about the mysterious and wonderful way God had brought us each other’s friendship.
Set your mind on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God (v. 2-3).
My mind is magnetically drawn to earthly things, and self is chief among the earthly things I get stuck on. But I have been called to die, like a seed that is buried within the quietness of the earth, hidden away while a different life is formed.
One day, that new life will burst forth from the ground looking nothing like the seed that died.
A seed does not primp and vaunt itself in its hidden place. It does not spin in circles or cry out. It yields to the hiding place, to the slow and certain process of decomposition. The old form shrinks and disappears as the new form increases and pushes away the darkness, making its way toward the light.
The irony of this beautiful metaphor is that the old life has no power to push away the soil even if it desired to do so, but the new life does. Indeed, the new life pierces the hardest surface, pressing toward the light and breaking out into a reborn, glorious existence. I have seen sprouts so fragile they could break easily if touched, yet they had the strength to break rock-solid dry ground and reach for the sun.
The seed is a picture of trust and obedience for the follower of Christ. Yielded, hidden, waiting, trusting, it lies still while the power and process of life transforms the old into the new.
The old me, like a seed in the ground, can be forgotten after all. As I obey, as I hide in Christ, waiting, trusting, His power will create new life in me.
Trust and obey. This is the secret to self-forgetfulness.
When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory (v. 4).
One day, self won’t be a struggle anymore. The full sprout will burst forth from its hidden place with Christ. The new me, risen in Christ, will be part of His own beauty and glory.
Now that is something to set my mind upon.
Lord, I hide
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