Unjust Love

Much as I hate to admit it, but the parable is true: weeds can — and do — overwhelm the good grain, choking it and slowing growth.

It’s not easy to be reminded of what you’ve forgotten: that I had set this blog up to record the many ways the cross captures my eyes as I go through my not-so-significant life.

Aahh…but I have wallowed in the sense of my insignificance. A stay-at-home wife and mother, in a house that, though made of concrete, can be as hot as the metal container van it was modelled after. No obvious source of income, struggling with  mild depression…feeling the weight of responsibility that the irresponsible refuse to bear.

Drop it, says my heart. And my head. And my husband. And my friends.

Throw it to Me, says my God. Make it long.

I’ve been running from the only outlet God has given me to work things out: writing.

So I’m here. I’m back. He’s given me back a stable internet connection, and a Mac. Two things I’ve asked for since Ondoy. What other excuse can I give?

None.

What am I afraid of?

Exposition. How do I lay my heart out without sounding like a soap opera? Without the bitterness, without the blaming, without wallowing?

The cross. See everything in the light of the cross. All is forgiven in the cross, all are accepted because of the cross. Let the cross slash through the weeds choking me so I can finally breathe.

The weeds, Jesus said, are the worries and cares of this life. Kinda hard to let it go when that’s my job: to fuss over and care for my family. But there are other things that I do worry about that, as God has said, I’m to throw  to Him.

We are facing loss of property and eviction, if nothing happens soon. If we lose the property, we will have nothing to use to pay for the taxes my father has been saying he does not need to pay. His tax debt is running into the millions now, and if the property is lost…

I feel old. Yes, I am losing sleep. I am immersing myself in a lot of escapist activities that somehow have the knack of reminding me that Someone else is in control and won’t let me fall.

Not much escape, after all.

I’d like to take some time to cry, but I don’t know when and where. I actually let it out when I take a bath. It’s like crying in the rain.

But the love…is undeniably present. In this time of worry and panic and faithlessness, I cannot deny the presence of this love. His love. In my husband’s embrace, my daughters’ hugs, even our little puppy’s licking, I know I’m loved. Friends who spend time with me, even the simple act of sending SMS, even if I know it was a forwarded message sent to probably their entire directory. God can use these little, trivial, almost insignificant things…

Just as I know, even if I can’t understand, that he loves little, trivial, insignificant me.

Please, I am not fishing for compassion. I am simply facing facts: I AM insignificant. Obscure, unknown, hidden, put-away. But for some reason, it doesn’t feel like a rejection. More like a secret. Like a little boy carefully cradling the little bird in his shirt to protect it and keep it warm, that’s how I feel I am being hidden. Hidden from the world, but not from the God who has me cupped in his hands.

I’m still afraid of losing everything — every THING — I believe is rightfully mine, and be left with a debt I will have no resources to pay.

But…

But I know, somewhere, in the depths of my fearful, faithless heart, that should that happen, I will be sheltered, cared for, protected. Because that is what Jesus has won for me on the cross: God’s grace, forgiveness, mercy and steadfast love. Because on the cross, Jesus paid the penalty for this faithlessness, God is still able to love me, protect me, care for me, hide me. Even in the midst of my doubting, complaining, accusing, blaming, backsliding.

Jesus, what have you done?! This is so unjust!

And so needed.

Thank You.

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2 thoughts on “Unjust Love

  1. glad you’ve come back to writing. you have the gift.
    and you inspire me. i’m sure a lot others too.
    you’ll always be my eDITSor, my favorite driver,
    my best dessert wikipedia, my loving ate.
    stand.. step up… soar!

    Like

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