When all is stripped away, who am I?
One of my favorite hymns, “Just as I Am,” contains this verse:
“Just as I am, Thy love unknown has broken every barrier down.
Now to be Thine, Yea, Thine alone, O Lamb of God, I come. I come.”
We all have barriers that alienate us. They help us to keep our lives under tight lock and key—controlled just enough that we keep people fooled. The scary part is that, too often, we fool ourselves. We justify the barriers. Of course, there’s the blatant barrier of sin, separating us from the Father. But what of the more subtle barriers—securities… identity…personal bubbles?
I, for one, prefer my safe little world. (Strangely enough, this seems to worsen as I grow older.) I like things the way I like them. I don’t appreciate my moorings being shaken, much less ripped out from under me. When I control my world, I know where I’m headed. I know who I am. I feel confident knowing that things are going according to plan. HOWEVER, I’m living a delusion. My little controlled world takes place in a bubble—a bubble that is threatened to burst at any moment. It feels safe to me, because I’m not aware that it is a very thin lining that is the foundation on which I build my beliefs. The reality, is that at any moment something sharp about my person may very well puncture that bubble, and it will dissolve completely. The other part of reality is that God may choose to remove my safe little bubble. Neither of these options feels safe; both tend to induce panic and other such emotions. So rather than dealing with reality, I often tend to live my pretend life, inside my bubble where I manage to convince 99% of myself that no one can hurt me.
The problem with this is: God also has a difficult time getting to my heart through the bubble. Knowing His love can be virtually impossible, since I’m so consumed with protecting my bubble that I don’t see His love in the various forms it is given to me. I don’t recognize the good things He has given me as from Him. Instead, when something good comes along, I desperately attempt to grasp it to myself within my bubble. I hold on for dear life, afraid of how my life will change if I let it go. (And I’m completely unaware of how ridiculous this appears!)
But what if all these things are stripped away? Then what? Who am I without the bubble? Who am I without the gifts, the good things that I am afraid to release? What does it really look like to just “let it go,” knowing that in the freefall through the bottom of the bubble, God will be present. Will He be enough? Will I trust Him to be enough?
What I do know, is that “All is vanity.” My pride, my self-sufficiency will only last so long. I need Jesus. My music is nothing. My relationships are nothing. My reputation is nothing. Nothing without the transforming love of a Father who wants to be with me. Who says, “Come unto me, and I will give you rest…for I am meek and lowly in heart and ye shall find REST unto your soul.”
