“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Matthew 6:33 NIV
This morning the Lord woke me up with a thought.
“Do you want Me or do you want Me to fix your problems?”
“Well, Lord, I want both.”
“If you want both, you have to realize that you have this all backwards,” He reminded me.
“Lord, what is that supposed to mean? I love You. I praise You.”Gulp. I guess I do wake up with my kid and his problems and the weight of the world sitting on my shoulders.
My list of praises is lost in my list of needs.
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’” Mark 12:30 NIV
Do I really love Jesus with every fiber of my being even if it means losing everything and possibly everyone for the sake of knowing Him?
Possibly. Possibly not.
But having Jesus consume me is worth any sacrifice, right? I think I can say “yes” to that question, but I still want my happy ending.
No one likes being manipulated, not even for a noble cause. I say I love the Lord completely, but there are strings attached.
He reminded me this morning that our obsession with seeing our children and loved ones healed from their addictions can take front and center in our hearts and minds. It can control our every thought and action and leave Him jumping like some spiritual Santa Claus to our requests (not that He would, but you get the idea).
I would like to think I am not like that. I would prefer to believe I have advanced past spiritual temper tantrums, but in all honesty, I just want my son to be okay. It’s the cry of my heart.
And here’s where it gets really hard. This is a truth I don’t want to have to admit, but I’m keeping it as real as I can. As a mom, I would do anything to see my child healed and set free and walking with the Lord. Quite possibly, I would sacrifice my own soul. And that raw awareness is suffocating.
"Thank you, Jesus, for sacrificing your life so I don’t have to."
But that awareness has me contemplating where my heart’s devotion truly lies. When I (metaphorically speaking) think about the possibility that I could exchange my soul for that of my son’s, I realize how very selfish I am.
I want Him to be Lord of my heart. I can’t imagine life without Jesus. And while I can’t imagine life without my child either, I know I could never make the exchange.
"Thank you, Jesus, that I don’t have to." The thought terrifies me.
When I wake up and when I lie down, I will consciously speak the name of Jesus. There is no other Name. There is no other One.
“Savior, Master, Lord. You deserve my whole heart. I choose You, even if it means losing the whole world.”