On the morning of Good Friday 2020, I wrote that John, the disciple, knew then, what I struggle to exemplify now. That we are to pick up our cross and follow Jesus. Live a changed life. Good Friday was 112 days ago. I said He died on a priceless piece of wood. I said He was a carpenter with divine love. I said He rose and saved us all. I said I was thankful.
That was true 112 days ago. And long before that. True now, as I write. Sixteen Fridays later. I believe it. Yet, my heart seeks confirmation every day. I know that my capacity to live with the joy of a “resurrected heart” will be only as broad and deep as my gratitude for the Savior who died for me on that day. From that cross.
A priceless piece of wood. A divine resurrection. Yet I keep remembering, professing, confessing. Why is that?
Because the human heart forgets. Since Good Friday I have committed every day to love Him. It is always an ascent. 112 ascents to be exact. To be clear, I do not forget that He died. I do not forget that I am saved or that I love Him. I do not have amnesia.
It is not a brain thing. It is a heart thing. What I forget is how to live with a resurrected heart. Jesus died and was resurrected on the third day. My salvation is complete when I accept what He did for my life, thank Him for it and proclaim that He is Lord of my life.
Consider this.
What we feel does not always run parallel to what we “faith.” What we “faith” is built on God’s promises to each of us in His word. It does not rely on how we feel. Faith should be a verb because it requires taking action on something we cannot see, we cannot control. That’s something BIG to be thankful for, knowing that God’s sovereignty reigns apart from my human nature and how I feel. Our human nature. How we feel. What He says He is doing for each of us, He will do. The bridge that links us to God’s holy promises is His Son. Our faith in Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross is how we step onto the bridge.
A resurrected heart has the spiritual capacity to live in the deepest state of gratitude for what Jesus did. Being grateful summons humility, enabling us to seek His guidance throughout the day. Live the day empowered by His saving grace. With this, comes joy.
Faith has zero to do with anything we did. We did nothing. Jesus did everything. We have one role. To live by faith. Faith that is capable of transcending earthly life, yet we all share the destiny of human nature. A nature that is good at getting us lost. We wake up with thoughts and feelings that cast a fog over living with a resurrected heart.
(enter)1. Weak | I wake up weak every day.
This is not a destination. It is the starting point based on my human nature. I wake up feeling incompetent and incapable of doing what I need to do in that day, aka high bar. I am often apprehensive about what the day might hold; an overactive imagination can easily fog my view in the predawn hours. The \”what ifs\” that whisper when all I am trying to do is turn over and flip my pillow to the cold side.
Sometimes I don\’t reign my thoughts in soon enough. When this happens, my day falls short of His intention. I don’t know how short because I didn’t live the day He had planned for me. I just know it does.
I have come to know that only one thing gives my human nature the right wake up call. That Jesus died on the cross because of me. I didn’t die on the cross. I didn’t change anything. He did.
Every morning I wake up feeling weak and pray my way to WHY. Because I AM weak. That’s not easy to acknowledge for a strong-willed Type A-er like me but it is always the point at which the fog lifts. It sets the record straight before I do anything else. Gratitude and humility follow. I am weak. Jesus is strong. There is freedom in that and I begin to rise up to the day.
2. Broken-hearted | I wake up broken-hearted.
About my children, for instance. Worry is human nature’s go-to stall tactic. I can easily be overcome with worry over our sons—hurting when they hurt, being discouraged when they are disappointed or challenged by life’s lessons. In this worry spin, I am not all that mature as a parent. I don’t want any sadness in their hearts, in their lives. Or in the lives of their loved ones. Honestly, I want everything to go perfectly for them, and since God’s word and life experiences have told me in no uncertain terms that this is not going to happen I want them to respond perfectly, and in His will. If left to my own dark imaginings, they are struggling, sad, depressed, lost. It’s ridiculously counterintuitive because they are all God-fearing, creative, intelligent, strong, loving, introspective, adventurous men. They are meeting life with resilience. Yet, with no other grounds than I haven’t connected to them on that day, I hit that worry plateau consistently. It is too familiar. Before I know it, my heart is heavy with three worry-logged parts. One for each son.
About dishonesty, for instance. It is human nature to be deceitful, especially with ourselves. We are easily motived by selfish gain. I am. You are. We are. We trick ourselves by casting noble intent on an ulterior motive. It breaks my heart when I realize my intent does not align with my values, and it happens often. I have learned to ask myself what my intent is, and I am often discouraged with my motive. Even on noble things like writing a post. I need to be convicted with gratitude to approach it with good intent. Humility does not teach lasting lessons; humility teaches lessons one day at a time. One moment at a time. The price of humility is a gracious heart. I am most broken-hearted by how quickly I fall out of humility. Even when I know that centering your life around a selfie posture is a sure way to be ruled by an insatiable heart. The human race—with all that living—has shown us ad nauseam that an insatiable heart leads to an inconsolable, joyless life. No amount of selfies…
About growing my spiritual gifts, for instance. I know that God has given my creative gifts some spiritual heft with a purpose. Yet I stand ready to fritter it away on daily distractions. This diversion alone shatters my heart into a million fragmented pieces of creative intent. Frittering is ominous, dangerous. Like a dull toothache that is only rivaled by what it escalates into if left to itself. Frittering does the least amount possible to keep us from doing that which God has most called us to do; use our spiritual gifts to witness in a way that only we (you and I) can uniquely do.
I wake up broken-hearted about many other things. Politics. Health. Finances. Riots. Hungry children. Every possible thing.
Being broken-hearted is a stall. It goes nowhere. A resurrected heart is not broken. It is not stalled. A resurrected heart is not insatiable. It embraces, it loves, it reveres, it honors all the redeeming heavenly qualities we “faith” on this earth. And in this process, it empowers us to help others. It does stuff. A resurrected heart rises to meet the day. Jesus died. He rose. He lifts me up with Him. He is enough. I cannot resurrect my heart. He did it, does it, will do it for me. Forever.
NEED A BUOY?
Jesus tells us to pick up our cross and follow Him. Daily. Growing in my witness has taught me that my best life is living in deep gratitude. His cross is not our cross. Our cross is to follow Him every day—soul (salvation), mind (faith), heart (resurrected).
23 Then he said to them all: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. 24 For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it. 25 What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit their very self? Luke 9:23-25 NIV
Seek your resurrected heart. Every day.
Kill Devil Hills, NC | sunrise
Wake up and proclaim the cross of Jesus. He is the resurrected One. His cross connects us to a day so powerful we could slay 100 Goliaths. We may have to. Maybe you wake up with a strong mindset and a lifted heart. I would challenge that if you don’t first acknowledge your weakness, and proclaim His strength, you may be walking on your path, not His. I am advocating for starting each morning at the foot of His cross in DEEP GRATITUDE. In our weakness, He is strong. In our weakness, He leads. His power is made perfect.
9 But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.\’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV
Thank God for being His child, counted blameless through His Son. This is an amazing promise that assures us that Jesus will intervene WHEN we fall short during our day. We are sinful when left on our own. We are blameless through Him.
13 May he strengthen your hearts so that you will be blameless and holy in the presence of our God and Father when our Lord Jesus comes with all his holy ones. 1 Thessalonians 3:13 NIV
Ask Jesus to resurrect your heart and help you carry your cross; ask the Holy Spirit to free you from distractions today. Your request is to rise up to His specific calling for your day. We each have a cross. It is not portable, nor on wheels. The only way we can carry it is with His strength.