Compelled
| September 2nd, 2007Bruce talked about 2 Corinthians 5 this morning. It wasn’t the focal point of his message, but he talked about how we are compelled by the love of Christ. Verse 14 says Christ’s love compels us . . .
Geez. Why am I not compelled by Christ’s love? I’m compelled by lots of stuff: hunger, tiredness, pride, fear, approval, disappointment, frustration, etc.
John Ortberg writes:
I am disappointed with myself. I am disappointed not so much with particular things I have done as with aspects of who I have become. I have a nagging sense that all is not as it should be.
Some of the disappointment is trivial, but some of it runs deeper. When I look on my children as they sleep at night, I think of the kind of father I want to be. I want to create moments of magic, I want them to remember laughing until the tears flow, I wan tot read to them and make the books come alive so they love to read, I wan to have slow sweet talks with them as they’re getting ready to close their eyes, I was to sing them awake in the morning. I want to chase fireflies with them, teach them to play tennis, have food fights, and hold them and pray for them in a way that makes them feel cherished.
I look in on them as they sleep at night, and I remember how the day really went: I remember how they were trapped in a fight over checkers and I walked out of the room because I didn’t want to spend the energy needed to teach them how to resolve conflict. I remember how my daughter spilled cherry punch at dinner and I yelled at her about being careful as if she’d revealed some deep character flaw; I yelled at her even though I spill things all the time and no one yells at me; I yelled at her — to tell the truth — simply because I’m big and she’s little and I can get away with it. And then I saw that look of hurt and confusion in her eyes, and I knew there was a tiny wound on her heart that I had put there, and I wished I could have taken those sixty seconds back. I remember how at night I didn’t have slow, sweet talks, but merely rushed the children to bed so I could have more time to myself. I’m disappointed. (John Ortberg, The Life You’ve Always Wanted. p. 13. )
I often feel that way. But, thanks to Jesus, I am changing. I am becoming, more and more, the kind of person I was meant to be.