When I was a little girl, I vividly remember my bedtime routine. It went a little something like this. After a clear warning of exactly how many minutes until bedtime, my dad would throw me over his shoulder like “a sack of potatoes” and carry me up the stairs to my bed. He would then drop me from his shoulder to the bed in which I asked to do over and over again. After a few times he would settle me in, pull my blankets up, tuck me in tight, and kneel beside my bed. Then he would pray with me.
My father would approach his Father on behalf of me, his daughter. At the end of each prayer, he never failed to boldly beg of God, “Father, please mold Meghan to be just like Jesus.” Those words will never ever leave my mind and my heart. Those words request that my heart be soft enough to be molded and to desire the righteousness that God requires.
My senior year in high school, God spoke very clearly to me. He almost audibly told me, “You need me Meghan. It’s time for you to give up. It’s time for you to quit suppressing the truth that I have made so clear to you. Open your hands and let go of all the things that you hold so tight.” Right there on my bedroom floor, Jesus was enough. He was freedom and He IS freedom. Only by His grace was I saved from His wrath.
My heart was hardened for so long, 17 years to be exact. In those moments, I began to open my hands and let go, little by little, of all the things that I held so precious. Jesus was enough. In those moments, he saved me through faith. I died with him and was raised with him. I was truly born again. I was free. I AM free!
From the moment I was redeemed, I have been in process. Some may describe it as a chiseling, a molding, a pruning if you will. My point is, for about 9 years my Heavenly Father has been CONSTANTLY molding me, chiseling me, pruning me to look just like Jesus. What a gracious God to want that for me. (and a wise father to pray that for his daughter)
In that process, I am fighting in my flesh and I am tired. It’s hard. It hurts. It’s uncomfortable. He lives inside of me and He is Holy. I am in the flesh and it’s ugly and it’s the opposite of holy. There are times in this gruesome battle, that I fight with all I have. There are other times I become so apathetic, I don’t even understand that there is a battle.
In recent months, the battle has been so fierce that I almost am physically overtaken. The more the Lord chooses to teach me about Himself, the tougher it gets. I feel SO incredibly out of place in this world. I can see and understand what He desires but yet I have to fight my flesh every single second to achieve that standard. I fall short way too often. I am called to something far greater than ANYTHING this world could offer me.
Matthew and I understand that we are being chiseled (my choice description of the process of sanctification). We understand that Jesus is our hope and our goal. Jesus needs to be enough in every moment. We are fighting to make the right decisions. We understand it begins in the small things. Sheesh, it’s so incredibly difficult. It is our desire to look just like Jesus. This means we will not look like everybody else. As we begin making the decisions in the small things, hopefully they will turn into big things.
I could say about a billion more things that have been on my mind but I have neither the time nor the energy in this moment. God is teaching our family things. And we are striving to let Jesus be enough so that we can allow Him to do His will in our lives. In this process, my dad’s prayer will be answered. I am so hopeful and will hold fast in confidence of my God who is gracious.
*Watch this for a picture of what I'm talking about.