I'm Addicted To...

"Addicted to what?" you ask.

I know this may sound trivial or contemplative. Normal or superficial. But...

I'm addicted to me. By that, I mean I'm addicted to pride and selfishness. The only one in the room. At least, the only one that matters. As if everybody else in the room, the universe for that matter, exists merely to appease my own self-interests. I manage low risk opportunities against sub-par competition to inflate my own stats and ego.

I'm addicted to you. Not you, really. But your approval. Every step I take and every word I speak is carefully calculated in search of your acceptance. You matter. Your opinion matters. But the truth is, because I'm addicted to me, your opinion only matters if it improves my position by lobbying my own self-worth.

I'm addicted to love. Maybe it's more like lust. Not lust like "50 Shades of Grey" but lust like I'm constantly wanting things that I cannot have or should not want. In reality they're not even necessary or really all that satisfying in the end. It seems as though I can't be content with the simplicity of having enough but I'm constantly reaching for just a little more.

I'm addicted to security. Actually, I'm afraid of being alone. I fear rejection; not having what it takes to measure up to someone's expectations. I stay close to the shore of the familiar and cling tightly to the known. Too often, I'm willing to concede the potential of my future for the pain and frustration of my past just because its familiar.

How will I ever overcome the strongholds of my addictions?

"Lay aside every sin and weight that so easily entangles us." It's easier said than done but sometimes I'm fine to simply let the weight of my addictions lay heavy on my heart rather than deal with the pressure of trying to change.

"Come to Me all who are weary and I will give you rest." The brutality of empty promises have kept me guarded from trusting others. So instead of making myself vulnerable to trust someone to leverage their compassion I find myself striving, working, toiling to become the means to my own end.

Here's the word I need today; Jesus is making a promise. He's inviting me to hand Him my addictions, burdens, and weights in exchange for His rest, peace, joy, freedom.

How about you? The road to freedom begins with handing over the object holding you in bondage; yourself!

It Will be My Joy to Say

Much of my life has been relatively easy. Comfortable. Convenient. Low risk. Not much sacrifice. But along the way, there have been moments where my faith has been tested. Where I've had to let wrestle the fleshly and spiritual parts of my being. And in those moments there has been an internal bleeding of the soul because of the declaration of war for my life; God's will or mine.

As a Christian for more than 25 years, I've heard (literally) hundreds of songs pertaining to faith and God. And of all the songs I've read, sang, or hummed, the most difficult has undoubtedly been, "It will be my joy to say 'Your will, Your way.'" (Lay Me Down - Chris Tomlin)

Some may wonder, "What's the big deal?" And, to be honest, that was me, at first. Just living in the moment of raised hands, mindlessly singing amid the smoke and lights filtering the room.

Here was my reality; my theology was colliding with my experience. When what seemed to be more overwhelming than the joy I thought God could bring I found myself singing the song in one breath and ultimately denying it in the next. In church. Lying in church. Talk about a hypocrite! And it was crushing me!

But somewhere along the way, I found the gem of God's relentless grace. I have seen God's unconditional love taking me through every season of life to make me more like His Son, and I know that He has the power to produce the joy that can only be experienced through knowing and doing His will.

Will we soon believe that joy, real joy, God-produced joy can be experienced in all seasons of life? Not until we realize that God is greater than our struggle. Greater than our past. Greater than all the blemishes we are trying to hide. Greater than our sin. Greater than the life we are trying to create for ourselves in our own strength. Greater than the grip of the lying, deceitful, God-opposing enemy who is offering the goods that many will settle for as a cheap substitute of God's grace and goodness.

If your season of life seems unbearable, if you're thinking about giving up, if you're questioning if this whole "God thing" is worth it, know that it's absolutely worth it to press on. Life will produce sorrow but joy will come with the morning (Ps 30:5). Life will make us weary but the joy of the Lord will be our strength (Neh 8:10). He will make a way for you to sing "It will be my joy to say Your will, Your way, Always!"