Posted by: bandaidchild | June 12, 2010

“Spiritual Amnesia”

That’s the name of a sermon I’ve listened to countless times. A gargantuan guy named Clayton preached this sermon at Ozark Christian College when I was a Sophomore. That was almost five years ago, and yet I find myself listening to it again and again, so I don’t forget.

But I have forgotten.

I’ve forgotten a number of things, actually.

I’ve forgotten that He is in control. And I am NOT.

I’ve let it slip that He loves me, and isn’t impatiently looking at his watch, waiting for me to crawl back to Him.

Or that He wants the best for me.

Or that He did not leave any of us; that He sent Jesus to be a tangible representation of His love, peace, patience, kindness, authority, and sacrifice.

That Jesus lounged with sinners, got His feet dirty, had every temptation we do but refrained, spent much of His time talking with His Father.

I forget the Holy Spirit lives inside of me.

(“and that is supposed to make us DANGEROUS.”)

I forget that He’s on my side. He has my best interests at heart—

and that the enemy has my destruction at the core of his intentions.

The other day, I realized how much my own amnesia had changed my worldview, my internal dialogue, how I pray, how I speak about God (or don’t talk about Him).

My rusty wheels began turning when someone recited this line from the Scriptures,

You are my son, with whom I am well pleased.

And all at once, we both began crying. But He cried out of joy, while I cried out of disbelief.

God would never say He is pleased with me; not anymore. I’ve dug my own path, and I need to pay for my disbelief, my lack of trust, my arrogance. I am dirty. I present sloppily; I’m ashamed. Proud? Of me? Why on earth would He be? The realist in me does not get this.

Despite my own self-defeating thoughts, what began is the understanding that I have believed an incredible amount of lies about Jesus. I’ve let them seep into my own Creed, and oh how it has changed who I am.

I don’t have to pay retribution. Or punish myself.

I always figured getting back on the Straight and Narrow took some of my own blood.

But it doesn’t. He shed enough. Why isn’t that enough?

I’m not sure how to describe the transformation that will happen, but it is going to be an internal renovation of dynamic proportions. And to God be the Glory of this renovating.

There will be scraping, smashing, remolding, ripping, stripping and gutting on my innards in the very near future. And while I’m not looking forward to this physical therapy, I know that I have been on the cusp of giving up so much in the last month, that I must do something. I must.

So, you’ll have to pardon the dust I’ll be stirring up in the next several months.

I hope you notice the ironic juxtaposition between June 1st and June 12th.

I hope you can see how God has brought me from hanging off the ledge, to seated, over-looking the beauty I was ignoring during my selfish endeavors.

Bethany Dillon (or someone) wrote a song called You Are On Our Side, and I haven’t stopped listening to it on repeat for roughly a week straight. It has brought me to tears a number of times, even.

You should look it up. And remind yourself of some things you may have forgotten over time.




  1. …some things I have forgotten over time:

    – that where I am, God wants me here…fully. I am not a patch, a temporary fix – which means I can’t use that as an excuse or keep the roots of my heart unplanted here.

    – that being a mother is the most sacred trust I’ve been given. I need to make sure my kiddos know that they make my eyes light up. That they are loved, unconditionally and completely – even amidst tantrums and challenging days.

    – that I can make or break my marriage with every choice I make. Since me and him are forever – I should spend much more time making my marriage than allowing things to dent it.

    – that His love for me keeps no record of my wrongs – even though shame is the most frequent strategy the enemy of my heart tries to entice me with.

    …I really enjoy your writing – and your heart.

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