I was driving angry. You know what I mean, don't you? The details of what made me angry don't really matter. The heart of it was that I was being thwarted. Things were not going my way. I was being wronged. And boy, was I right about things.
I could feel the ugliness of my sin. I had the impression that my very countenance reflected the ugliness of my self-righteousness.
Driving on a bridge, I noticed two grown men walking on the sidewalk toward me. One was pushing a grocery cart (carriage?) from a grocery store down the street. Thieves. Two GROWN men, stealing a grocery cart. Adding fuel to my fire, I saw that the cart was full of a case of beer. At 10 in the morning.
Sarcasm ran through my head. "Awesome," I thought. "Two able bodied men, not working on work day, stealing a cart AND getting ready to drink themselves into a stupor in the middle of the morning. Idiots."
I know, this sounds harsh. It was harsh; there's no sugar-coating it.
The thought that finally brought me up short was this: I AM those two idiots going to get drunk before lunch. I am a thief. I am a slacker.
I may not be hauling a case of beer to my house. But I sure as heck look for ways to make myself feel better. I don't steal a shopping cart. But I steal from my children when I'm angry with them. I look to control to make me feel good. I look to getting things MY way to get me through the day.
Sound desperate? You're right. It IS desperate. In my journal I wrote a quote from our pastor one Sunday: Are you crazy or are you desperate?
Why are you following this Jesus? What can He possibly offer you that you could not try to obtain elsewhere?
I feel it, friends. I am desperate.
John 6:68,69 Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.”