Who I Really Am

Reader, I need to be brutally honest. Prepare yourself for some emotional vomit. If you'd rather not step in that mess, just skip the next paragraph.

I have a very hard time seeing any value in myself. I think that people love me and like having me around, but what I see when I look at myself is a needy, unattractive, disorganized, worthless failure. I fail my friends often but rely on them too much for my security. I'm also the regular debbie downer because I'm usually the first one to leave any kind of activity or hang-out because I'm not a night person. I eat when I'm upset/tired/stressed and have a hard time motivating myself to exercise. I struggle to put myself together beyond wearing jeans and a t-shirt every day. I waste too much time watching Netflix or browsing Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest. I struggle with budgeting my money well, and I've got way too much stuff in my apartment (and at my parents' house). I have a very easy life, but I just can't seem to get it together. The talents that I do have frequently go unused since I'm too lazy to discipline myself with my time. I chase after sin and idols and leave my Bible to collect dust on my nightstand, only picking it up to go to church two times a week. I go to church and know all the right answers, but dang it! I just can't (or won't) apply truth to my life and let it transform me. I am a mess.

I don't say any of that to garner your pity. I just need you to see that when I look at myself, I see negatives.

I see all the ugliness, all the broken parts, and I often believe the lie from Satan that those broken parts are all that there is, and they will never be fixed. Like I said in my last blogpost (which, shockingly, was less than a week ago), my life seems like a perpetual struggle.

I can hear some of my friends now: "Even if some or all of those things are true, there are also a lot of good things about you." And that's true. I have good qualities, and I do some good things.

I have a winsome personality and a good sense of humor. I have pretty brown eyes, and I've been told that my curly hair is fantastic. As much as I avoid exercise, I'm a natural athlete, and I can easily run two miles after weeks of not running. I connect really well with students, both the middle schoolers that I teach and the high schoolers at church that I hang out with and mentor. I love giving things to the people I care about, whether it's a cup of their favorite coffee drink or something bigger. I'm involved in two small groups and volunteer with my church's high school youth group. I make friends easily and love investing in both new and old friendships.

Those are all good things. I don't say any of that to brag about myself. I say those things because, as much as I forget it, there are positive characteristics about me that I can be grateful for. But if I'm looking to the good things about me for solace about my failings and brokenness, I'm looking in the wrong place.

The problem with both of those lists is that both of them are entirely about me. As long as I'm continually looking at myself, my spiritual growth will be crippled. Thinking about myself is not what will transform me and redeem my sin and brokenness.

What will transform me - what can transform anyone and anything - is the gospel. I can't heal or redeem myself, but God can, and He will. God says that He will complete the work that He began in me. Regardless of my successes and failures, God is doing a transforming work of grace in my heart and life.

And ultimately, just like I can't transform myself into something better, someone holier, I can't give myself an identity either. I don't have the final word on who I am or what value I hold. My failings don't determine who I am, and neither do my victories. The One who created me and redeemed me determines both my identity and my value.

That is good news. Because despite my rebellion, God calls me His precious child; despite my steady failures, God calls me holy and beloved. That is my identity. Not only that, but the value that God has set on my life is the blood of Jesus, which is of infinite worth.

No matter what I do, no matter what I feel or think, that is who I am. None of the ugly things about me can take away from that, and none of the good things about me can add to that.

I am His. That's who I really am. And that's what brings change - He changes me by first changing who I am, by calling me His own.

See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know Him. Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when He appears we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is. And everyone who thus hopes in Him purifies himself as He is pure. (1 John 3:1-3) 

I'm Not Finished (with Struggling)

Over the last few months, the number of unfinished drafts of posts for my blog has grown quite a bit. The reason for this is that I begin writing a post as I begin to understand what it is that I'm learning, but then I can't quite finish because I'm not sure what God is teaching me. So I leave the blogpost unfinished.

A few weeks later, I think about a different issue or a different analogy for the things I'm learning, and I begin a new blogpost, only to leave it unfinished as well.

Reader, this is very discouraging. Yes, I want to be more disciplined in my writing, but more than that, my lack of completing any blogposts makes something very clear to me.

I have very, very little figured out. I seem to wrestle with things constantly with little progress and very few satisfying answers.

I'm always struggling but never arriving. 

Man! I really just want to arrive. I want to be finished with the constant wrestling. I want to get to a place where I don't struggle constantly, where I've conquered certain chronic idols, where I'm filled to the brim with the joy and peace that I know is available in Christ. But I am not there.

Something I realized, though, is that it's okay to struggle. It's okay to wrestle and to not understand what God is doing. It would be far worse for me to give up than it would be for me to spend each day battling sin and, though sometimes (often) failing, striving to follow Christ.

The truth is that none of us have arrived, none of us are finished, and we won't get to that point until we reach glory. Until we meet God face to face and there is no more sin or brokenness, we will always be struggling toward that end. And that's not fun, but it's okay. And we have help, not only from those with whom we live in community, but also from God himself.

"For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbrith until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And He who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:22-28)

Idle Worship

I don't claim to write blogs frequently; usually I'm doing well if I publish one new blog per month. This is because I'm not very disciplined, so I don't sit down to write nearly as much as I should. However, it's also because I think about my next blogpost for several weeks before I ever sit down to write it. Then, even when I do sit down to write it, I'm not sure how to articulate what God is teaching me or doing in my heart. I currently have four other unfinished drafts of struggles and realizations and lessons that I can't quite put into words yet. I'm very grateful for your reading my blog, but it's honestly for my benefit as much as it is yours. It's good for me to have to write down the things God is showing me - that way I'm more likely to actually learn the lesson.

All that being said, I haven't been able to finish a blog lately because I haven't wanted to listen to whatever God may be saying to me for the last few weeks. I haven't wanted to pursue God or pursue righteousness. Writing is one of the things in my life that forces me to honesty, and I haven't wanted to be honest with myself, so I haven't been writing.

In my last blog, I talked about pursuing God despite the difficulty, despite the discomfort, and despite the pain of dying to myself. I related that to the difficulty of disciplining myself in starting to run again, and, while I have been running faithfully, I can't say the same for my pursuit of God.

In fact, in some ways, I've been running the other direction.

I thought that if I just sat idly, I would be okay. I convinced myself that, if I just stayed where I was spiritually, it would be fine. I can pursue God later - I'll just enjoy where I am now. It shouldn't always be a struggle, should it?

But I've found that in my idleness, I latch onto my idols more ferociously. If I'm not intentionally seeking to be satisfied in my Creator, I will seek satisfaction in other things.

In some sense, there is no such thing as spiritual idleness. There is no moment when we are truly inactive, because by our inactivity, we are pursuing self instead of God. Apart from God's intervening grace in my life, I am a filthy, vile, hell-bent enemy of God. It is only God's grace that rescued me and declared me righteous and made me His beloved, purified child, filled with purpose and glory in Christ.

So doesn't it make sense that, although I am being sanctified and transformed by Christ, my natural, everyday state is to run away from God, not toward Him? If I'm not actively, intentionally fighting my idols, I'm allowing them to reign over me. If I'm not deliberately tearing down my idols, I'm bowing down to them. There is no middle ground.

I'm always worshiping something, and idleness allows idolatry.

Paul says this about the idolatry of the unbelievers in Rome:

"... they are without excuse. For although they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks to Him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and creeping things" (Romans 1:20-23).

I read that in my devotions this morning and was so convicted. Here I am, a child of God, and I have traded the glory of knowing Him for the emptiness of other things. I've allowed myself to pursue idols because I haven't wanted to pursue God. Because I often don't believe Him when He says that He is enough. Because I'm afraid of what it will mean to surrender to Him. Because I'm afraid that, even after I pursue Him, I won't be satisfied.

So instead of pursuing Him, I've sat idly, and in my idleness, I cling to other things in hopes of satisfying my soul.

And guess what? My idols never satisfy me. Never.

As my pastor said this morning, only God can make and fulfill the claim of being able to satisfy our souls. Whatever else I'm drinking to satisfy the thirst in my soul, it will not satisfy. Only Jesus can satisfy my soul. Only Jesus. He is enough, surrender is rest, and He will satisfy every longing of my heart.

So the question is, what then will I do? Will I do nothing and let my idols grow? Will I continue chasing after empty things? Or will I throw off my idols in pursuit of the only One who can fill me till I am overflowing?

Running the Race with Fear and Trembling

In the dim light of the morning, I'm pulled out of my dreams by the sound of my alarm clock. My hand fumbles onto my nightstand until I finally manage to grab my phone, half opening my eyes to locate and hit the snooze. I immediately close my eyes, snuggling deeper under my soft covers. In that moment, the image of my running clothes, laid out the night before, flashes across my mind. My shirt, shorts, socks, and shoes are all ready for me to go if I could just drag myself out of bed.

But that requires actual movement. And I know that running means putting one foot in front of the other until my legs feel like jelly and my lungs are burning and then going further and further. Going running means that everyone who passes me in his car can see my slow pace and my red face and just how out of shape I am.

How about I just go running tomorrow? Yeah, I'll just go running tomorrow. I roll over under my covers, quickly grabbing my phone and turning the alarm off rather than hitting the snooze again.

This is the struggle. Since I had to stop marathon-training last year and was thrown headlong into my first year of teaching, getting back into the habit of running has been an uphill battle. A battle which I have been losing, despite the fact that I know I'll love running again once I get back into it consistently.

I can't tell you what a discouragement this has been for me. While I had neither time nor energy to run regularly during my first year of teaching, I feel ashamed and embarrassed by how out of shape I am. I guess I expected more of myself. But the truth is that I'm a lot less disciplined and driven than I thought I was.

Now, when I go running, it's hard. It's uncomfortable. It's a steady argument between my body screaming at me to stop and my mind trying to convince me to keep going. Lately, I've approached and begun every run with at least some amount fear, and by the end, my legs are often trembling with exhaustion.

But the thing is, if I don't go through the discomfort and pain, I'll never make any progress. If I don't run when I don't love running, I'll never reach the point where I do love running again. If I don't fight the uphill battle, I'll never reach the hilltop.

Isn't that the way it is in our spiritual lives?

I often find myself discouraged that I'm not doing better, not victorious over idols, not filled with joy like I want to be, not in love with God like I want to be. I don't know about you, but for me, pursuing God is an uphill battle. This isn't because He is playing hard-to-get or something ridiculous like that. Not at all! God has always and continues to pursue me with His love day after day, and He pours grace and mercy on me in abundance. He fills me with strength and gives me rest. He gives me everything I need from day to day. He alone is worthy of all my love, adoration, and praise, and He is ever welcoming me into His presence. You would think that it would be easy for me to love Him with all of my life.

But my heart is so easily led astray, and killing my old, sinful self in order to pursue God is a lot like the difficulty of running. I know it's good for me, and I genuinely want to do it, and the reward is so great, but... it's not easy. It's uncomfortable and exhausting.

When I think about fighting the sin and idols in my life, I'm often afraid that I'll never find victory. I've been fighting these battles for so long - where's the proof that I can overcome them? When I'm in the middle of fighting temptation, I tremble with the difficulty of setting my mind on Christ rather than letting my mind dwell on sin.

In my life, in running but more so in seeking to pursue God, there is much fear and trembling. However, if I don't throw away my idols and pursue God, when will I ever find the closeness of fellowship with God that I desire? If I don't choose to fight the battle - fight with every ounce of energy that I have - how can I ever hope to win? If I don't actually run the race, no matter how difficult it is, how can I ever reach my goal?

"Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure." -Philippians 2: 12-13

We work out our salvation with fear and trembling. We pursue God with fear and trembling.

The beauty of this is that it allows for our weakness and calls us to strength. It calls us to pursue Christ despite our weakness, for it is God, the mighty Creator and Sustainer, who works in and through us. We work as God works.

Think about that - we are called to live in bold obedience because of who God is and what Christ has done. We don't have to live in fear of our sin or of the difficulty of the battle. He who is in us is greater than he who is in the world; Christ has overcome our sin. We are to live in fear and awe of God. We are to tremble with humility and gratitude before the One who created the universe with the power of His voice and redeemed His people with His own blood.

When I fear and tremble because of my persistent failures and my overwhelming struggles, it's because I've forgotten who God is. When I live in awe of God and tremble with worship before Him, I can step boldly into the life to which He has called me - the life of destroying idols and racing wholeheartedly after Him.

So let us run with endurance the race set before us. For there is joy to be found in spending myself for Him, and with each step He draws me nearer to the glory that waits at the finish line.

Preach It!

In all the conversations I've had with friends about struggling spiritually, the issue almost always comes down to whether or not they (or I) really believe the truth of Scripture.

Maybe you've experienced this. I'll be talking with a friend, and when one or the other of us is reminded of truth, the response is, "I know that, but..." Reader, please tell me you know what I'm talking about.

For example:

--"I know God loves and values me, but I don't feel loved or valued."

--"I know Christ died for my sin, but I still feel guilty and ashamed."

--"I know this sin leads me away from fellowship with God, but it looks so good."

--"I know God has a sovereign, gracious plan, but I just don't get it right now."

--"I know God is with me, but I just feel alone."

--"I know I'm righteous in God's sight, but I've just messed up too much."

--"I know God is my strength, but this just feels like too much for me to handle."

--"I know ________, but ________."

You can complete that sentence with whatever issue it is for you right now. There's always some kind of excuse about why we don't believe the truth. I do the same thing. I know the right answers, and I know the truth in my head, just like so many of my friends do. Ultimately, though, we don't believe the truth in our hearts.

Why is that? Why do we use our circumstances and our emotions to cloud the truths about who God is, what He has done, and what He has promised? How can we say, "I know God's Word says this, but I can't accept that because..."?

I think that we do this because of what we're preaching to ourselves.

Think about it. What is it that you speak to yourself day after day, hour by hour, moment by moment?

Too often, what I speak to myself over and over again is how difficult my circumstances are, how satisfying sin looks, how overwhelmed and frustrated and discouraged I am, or (most often) what a filthy and worthless sinner I am. Those are the things I allow my mind to dwell on, and, as a result, those are the things that my heart becomes convinced of.

Our minds lead our hearts, and what we fill our minds with, that is what our hearts will believe.

What happens too frequently is that our minds dwell wholly on the difficulty and the emotion. Because of this, our hearts are filled and overwhelmed by the hardship and the immediate frustration and discouragement, and we struggle to believe and live out anything else.

Please don't hear me say that our circumstances and emotions aren't real or legitimate. They are. But they are only part of the truth. Our emotions and circumstances don't determine anything about God's character or promises. However, if I'm entirely focused on myself - my circumstances, my struggle, my feelings - I can't embrace or believe truth about the gospel and the character of God.

The difficulty is real. The emotion is real. But we ought to look at those things in light of the gospel, fixing our eyes fully on Jesus. If we want to walk through each day with joy, we have to believe that what God says is true, but I don't think that can happen if our minds are set on our circumstances and emotions.

The challenge, then, is to set our minds on Christ so that our hearts can be set on Christ. We preach the truth of Scripture to ourselves so that we believe it.

This is what the conversation should look like:

--"I don't feel loved or valued, but I know God loves and values me."

--"I feel so guilty and ashamed, but I know Christ paid for my guilt and shame already."

--"That sin looks so good, but I know that it leads me away from God."

--"I don't understand it right now, but I know God has a sovereign, gracious plan."

--"I feel so lonely, but I know God is with me."

--"I've messed up so much, but I know I'm righteous in God's sight."

--"This just feels too much for me to handle, but I know God is my strength."

Do you see how, in those sentences, the focus is on God, where it should be? Do you see how that makes all the difference?

There are and will continue to be many difficult, frustrating, and deeply painful trials in our lives. It's true - until Christ returns, our lives on earth will always be a struggle. If we focused on that alone, we could easily spend our entire lives as frustrated and depressed people. However, it's also true that Christ is redeeming our struggles, and there is abundant joy in fellowship with God and His children, and our present suffering is not worthy to be compared with the glory that will be revealed in us.

So let us set our minds on things that are above, let us preach the truth to ourselves day after day, hour by hour, so that we may believe, and be filled with joy.

Fighting the Lie: "You Will Not Surely Die"

Reader, I'm having a hard time knowing how to start this blogpost. What I have to say isn't necessarily ground-breaking or even that lengthy, but it has seriously altered how I approach my fight against sin, particularly in an area of my life that has been a battle for years. It's a big deal to me, and that's why I'm struggling to know where to begin.

What I want to talk about relates to where sin all began, in the Garden of Eden, with Satan tempting Eve, asking what God actually said about the forbidden fruit:

                  And the woman said to the serpent, "We may eat of the fruit 

                  of the trees in the garden, but God said, 'You shall not eat of 

                  the fruit of the tree that is in the midst of the garden, neither 

                  shall you touch it, lest you die.'" But the serpent said to the 

                  woman, "You will not surely die. ..." (Genesis 3:2-4)

The serpent said to the woman, "You will not die." Adam and Eve believed Satan, and the fruit looked so satisfying, so they ate it. 

Then, death. 

When I was a kid, I was sometimes confused by the story of the Fall because Adam and Eve didn't immediately die. They eventually died, but not right away, so that kind of made Satan right, didn't it? At that point, I didn't understand that there are other kinds of death.

Immediately after eating the fruit, Adam and Eve were ashamed, and they hid from God. Their intimacy with God had been broken. They could no longer stand freely in the presence of the One that had once walked with them in the garden. They were separated from their Creator, and that was a death far worse than the physical kind we most often think about. They lost fellowship with the Giver of life.

Reader, that is what I lose when I pursue sin. 

I am so easily distracted by the glittering idols around me. When I am tempted, Satan is always there to say, "You will not surely die." Too, too often, I believe him. I think that indulging in sin won't bring death; I convince myself that idols will actually satisfy me. Yet every time I take a bite of the fruit, whether it's just a nibble or hasty, messy mouthfuls, I feel utterly ashamed, and I hide from the God who loves me.

My sin always drives me away from God. That is death. 

Of course, indulging in sin doesn't cause me to lose my salvation. Because I believe in Jesus as the perfect sacrifice and atonement for my sin, I am completely righteous, accepted, and beloved in Him. There is nothing that can change that. However, when I choose sin, I break my intimacy with God. He is still near to me and loves me and even likes me, but I lose my ability to be close to Him and delight in Him. 

A very wise British man named Marsh Moyle once explained it to me like this: It's as if you and God are standing across from each other, and your idols live in between the two of you. God wants you to get rid of your idols and sin so that you can be close to Him. 

When I face temptation, sin always looks so good, and Satan is ever whispering, "You will not surely die." But I have to remember that my sin breaks closeness with God, and distance and separation from God is death. It's the death of satisfaction and joy and hope and rest. But that's what I'm choosing when I choose sin.

But when I put my sin and idols aside, what joy and satisfaction and rest there is to be found in the arms of our Redeemer! What abundant life! Surely He is the only One worth living for, for with Him there is joy and life everlasting.

The Cross I Bear

I unfortunately don't have much time to write this blog, but I feel like I need to share it anyway. So here goes. Hopefully it won't be riddled with typos.

Recently I've been thinking about what it means to take up my cross daily. Growing up in a church and attending Christian schools, I have grown very familiar with that phrase, but what does it really mean? I have sometimes heard it in the context of believers bearing various trials and difficulties. We say that the hardship is "their cross to bear." Maybe that's part of it, but I don't think that's really it. In the context of the verse, Jesus has just predicted His death and resurrection.

            And He said to all, "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself
            and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life
            will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will save it.
            (Luke 9:23-24)

When you think about what Christ did when He bore the cross and died on it, He was paying for our sin. He was killing our sin and corruption so that we could live in freedom and righteousness through Him. He made a way for our redemption from slavery and forgiveness of all our sins.

Wow.

But what does it mean for us to take up a cross and follow Christ every day? Simply this: our old selves were put to death on the cross. Now we must continue to kill our old, selfish, corrupted selves and live in the righteousness that has been freely given to us. When Jesus tells me to take up my cross daily, He's telling me to die to my self, die to my selfish desires, die to my comfort and security, and seek life in Him.

Now, I'm not at all suggesting that we in some way contribute to our salvation. Not at all. I'm not even saying that we work sanctification in ourselves. It is God who justifies, and it is God who sanctifies. He does the work of grace in us. Yet, as He works, we are to strive toward Jesus. We are to fight to destroy our idols and pursue righteousness, like good soldiers. We are to fight the battle because we are already more than conquerors through Him who loves us.

Besides, don't we know that all the glittering idols we chase are nothing but ashes? Nothing satisfies, nothing brings joy, except Christ.To pursue Him is truly to pursue what will bring us joy, satisfaction, and peace.

This is my struggle. I am so easily distracted by the attractions of the world and so easily swayed by the desires of my old self. I seek life in my idols and find old death and emptiness.

So every single day, the cross I must (but don't always choose to) bear is the death of my old self. I must submit the desires and hopes of my flesh to Christ, no matter how much I want to hold on to them. Because, just like Jesus rose from the dead and ascended into glory with the Father, death to our old selves means experiencing a life in Christ that is filled to the brim and overflowing with joy. And when we meet Him, there will be inexpressible and everlasting glory.

Selfie-Centered

Reader, there's something I have to confess. I have been holding out on you. I've been thinking about writing about this topic for a few months, but I haven't done it for fear of offending people. I don't want to point fingers or lay blame on anyone, and I certainly don't want to condemn. That's not my place.

Yet, it is my place (and the place of any believer in Christ) to speak truth, in love, when it needs to be spoken. We have a responsibility to exhort one another toward lives that fully glorify God and only God.

All that to say, I'm terrified to write this blog. What I have to say isn't easy or comfortable, but I promise that my intent isn't to shame or condemn, but only to love and point others to Jesus. So, here I go.

Let's talk about "selfies." For any reason whatsoever, people take pictures of themselves and post them on Instagram or Facebook, in hopes of getting as many likes as possible. No matter what the situation is, take a picture of yourself, slap a caption on it, and publish it for all your friends to see and appreciate. Make sure you've got the right pose, the right facial expression, the right angle; take time to think about what caption fits best. Take a few pictures and pick the best one. Feel good about yourself when you get a lot of "likes." Be disappointed if you only get a few. Repeat the process tomorrow or the next day.

Does this sound familiar? Does anyone else see something wrong with this?

I understand taking and posting a picture of yourself in some situations: it's your birthday, or you got a haircut or a new hat, or you're dressed up for something, or something is going on that you just have to share with the world. That makes sense to me.

But day after day? What's the point? Why do we do that? Do we think that people have forgotten what we look like? Of course not. I think the reasoning is more that we are afraid people will forget about us. When we take those pictures and post them so frequently, what we're really doing is saying, "Look at me!" We crave love; we crave acceptance and attention. And we take pictures of ourselves just so that people will like it and say, "OMG, your soooo beautiful!!!*" (*grammar errors intended) or something along those lines. We're seeking affirmation.

So we take pictures of our faces day after day and post them for our friends to see. Our Instagram feeds are all silently screaming, "Look at me, look at me, look at me!" Does anyone else see how self-centered and narcissistic that is? Can you imagine people in the 1800s carrying around pictures of themselves and pulling them out to show their friends every time they met? That would have been ridiculous. Not to say that people in the 1800s were any less selfish and broken than we are today, but we have technology that allows us to act out and display our selfishness. We live for likes, and if people don't like our pictures, we feel a little crushed, though most of us would never say that out loud.

Now, I don't know when it became an acceptable social practice to take pictures of ourselves and post them so frequently. I don't know when "selfies" became a thing or when it became normal, but I can't say that it surprises me.

What surprises and disappoints me is that believers accept it and take part in it just as much as unbelievers do. What makes it worse is when we try to make pictures of ourselves spiritual by writing a caption with a verse or something, as if we are doing anything other than calling attention to ourselves. Yes, rejoice in who God has made you. Yes, exult in His redemption of you, who were once dead and enslaved and utterly broken. But if you are taking and posting pictures of yourself day after day, are you really seeking to call attention to God's glory and goodness? Really?

For that is what we should be calling attention to. Always.

Just think about Him. He is the God who created the entire universe with the power of His words. He is the God who breathed life into man, who redeemed us with the blood of His Son, who calls us out of darkness and into light, who fills each day with purpose, who paints sunrises and created giggles, who loves each of His children fiercely and calls us by name and pursues us with His grace and kindness.

This is our God. This is the one we praise. He is the one who gives us identity and purpose and joy. He tells us that we are beautiful and valuable. There is not greater security than that which we have in Him.

Why are we living for likes and comments? Why do we feel the need to find affirmation in anything beside our great and gracious God? Why do we chase after what we know will not satisfy?

For me, I know that it is because I am often looking at myself instead of Him. Whatever it is that we are looking at, we will inadvertently lead others to do the same. If I'm focused on myself, I will want others to focus on me too. So the real question here isn't "Why do we take selfies?" The question is "What are our lives proclaiming?" Is my life proclaiming my self? Or is my life proclaiming Christ and the glory of God?

                      "Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on
                      things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. 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 3:1-4)