Toothpaste and the Little Boat that went Too Far

I myself, being who I am, take questions about myself very seriously. Like the classic one man on the jury who insists on covering all the evidence in order to serve a proper judgement, I weigh out my words, carefully formulating an answer in my mind. I re-word it several times, and then finally put it to paper {or keyboard.} Now, when it comes to things like mission's trip applications, there is no exception to this behavior. Even when I go to fill it out a *second* time. That's right, one sweaty, brain wracking, 2-hour form filling marathon wasn't enough. But it seems to me it wasn't chance that my form was misplaced, because I need to learn something.

I decided to jump right in and knock the thing out. You see, I have this pleasant memory that works something like this: I deliberate and rehash so much that if I have to write it again, I can do so almost verbatim. It came in handy that time our computer crashed in eigth grade with my first draft of a memoir. Bingo! I re-wrote it.

So, in re-filling this form about what I expect to happen, my previous mission trip experience, and my relationship with Christ, my problem wasn't remembering the content, it was the content itself. {Which I had actually borrowed from something I wrote before} Trush is, the time I described where I go for "weeks without really reading my Bible"was taking place right then. And the constant communication was more like "intermittent chatter." Not that I'm not crazy about God, but ruts are so easily dug, and so terribly difficult to pull oneself out of.

As I was brushing my teeth I was thinking over how much I love being close to God, but also how much I am addicted to a lukewarm, depression-prone state of existence. And that whole "I do what I don't want to do, but I sadly do want to do, actually" Paul thing. {Romans 7:18-21} However, that is a different topic. Anyway, there I was covered in toothpaste--nearly--and I started making excuses; telling God how "the stuff I wrote on the form isn't so far off because I'm pretty much a good person. I know everyone sins, but I'm not that horrible . . ." And here I'd hear that small voice say how all sins are equal and I said, "but, I try. Aside from the inescapable sin, I'm a pretty good person, the kind people don't mind their teens being friends with . . ."

And I went on, ignoring for about a minute before I stopped brushing my teeth and stared at my toothpaste-fringed face and said, "Oh my gosh." It struck me I'm not a "good person." There is no "aside from the . . ." Because as good as I think I am, I haven't really been trying to actively seek God, or read my Bible. And even if I was, that would never make me "good enough" to take a break. I didn't jump off the deep end, but my boat has been drifting out to sea, content with the long, long rope coiled in the bottom of the boat, attached to the dock. I forgot that even with a rope, the further out you drift, the bigger the waves get. And with the rope keeping my boat from capsiding, I had the nerve to say I was pretty good with the oars!

So, right now I'm a bit shock with my lack of behavior, and am perfectly content to say I am terrible at rowing. There is no excuse for me to live lukewarm--especially not that I am "good." And if I hadn't already shoved the toothpaste tube in my silly mouth, I would have shoved the Bible because this is where I opened up to read when I went back into my room: Romans 3. I'm sure this was no accident because the commentary on verse 24 was like swallowing another tube of toothpaste--the pleasant, minty kind though.

I'm positive we're all familiar with this passage. In particular the part that says "all have sinned and fallen short." {v 23} The whole chapter expounds on that thought. We're just not "good" people--"There is none righteous, no, not one." {v 10} And I'm glad I don't have to be a "good" person to be accepted and loved by God. Because as strong-willed as I am, I would never make it.
So, God, I want to take this oportunity to thank You for all You've done for me, my friends, and people everywhere. Please help me not to take it for granted, but to remember and act on my thankfullness by seeking You and sharing You with those around me. I know I need Your strength to do this, so thank You in advance. Amen.