Something occurred to me recently where I sat silently (well
mostly) wishing ‘pick me’ thoughts. I
could have just said aloud what I wanted to happen and made it work out that way – but that wouldn’t be me being picked, that’d be me getting my own
way. There wouldn’t be any heart-felt
picking going on. What I wanted then was
to be picked because I was chosen.
To be a little clearer about it, this came out of one of those
unjustified moments that wouldn’t make me look good if the details were laid
out, so I’m skating past bits of the story here to hold on to the main purpose
of this, my first blog.
What occurred to me was that, moment by moment, day after day, in the decisions I make, I have a choices where I can pick Jesus. I accept Jesus may not be overly bothered which biscuit I eat, so I’m not meaning every single decision, but you get the point.
Any of my ‘choosing me’ wishes aren’t worth the same
if I make it happen by pushing myself forward.
It needs to be a genuine preference to ‘choose me’, made out of free
will. I don’t often have miserable
moments, but something good came out of this one because it made me think
harder about the times when I don’t choose Jesus, and how it must hurt the one
I profess to love.
Having a forgiving God, full of grace and love is not an
excuse to minimise the hurt I kindly return whenever I fail to choose him.
I apologise to those who were looking forward to some light
entertainment in Van Talk Blog #1. I
will do better next time. I apologise to
anyone who recognises in this blog my disgruntled reaction to a sense of not
being chosen. Most importantly, I apologise
to Jesus for the many times I’ve failed to choose him.
May God bless us all