Stealing

This blog was never intended so much as a place to teach—there are a wealth of fine teaching blogs and sites out there—as much as a place to share my thoughts, reflections, slices of life, things God is showing me, etc. That being said, last Sunday I had one of those moments that really affected me, and I wanted to share it with you.

During our fellowship's Sunday morning gathering I was in the back kneeling during one of the songs, reflecting on the words and the concept of following Jesus and of God as my King. Suddenly I had this realization that I often don't live as if my life is truly His to do with what He will, but I weigh His leading and decide if I want to follow or not. It struck me that, if I am really His, when I do this I am stealing what is His each time I take myself for myself. Hence the questions I left you with in my last post:

Questions:
1. When was the last time you stole something?
2. When was the last time you looked at something that wasn't yours and gave serious consideration to taking it for yourself?
3. When was the last time you took seriously the idea you might steal, or do what you want, with something that was someone else's, without their permission?
4. How would you feel inside if someone accused you of stealing and said you were a thief who had no qualms about taking what wasn't yours for your own selfish needs and reasons?

Consider the following verses, the themes of which came strongly over me last Sunday morning during the music. They are verses/themes I am sure most Christians would intellectually agree with:

1 Corinthians 6:19-20  Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.

1 Peter 2:9  But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession . . .

Rom 14:7-8  For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself. If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's.


Gal 2:19-20  For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

These verses (and many others) make it clear. As a Christian I am His. He bought me. He redeemed me from Satan's lawful ownership of me and made me a citizen of His Kingdom, a son of His. He paid for me with His blood and life, and when I, by choice, accepted that gift in faith, I became His. He owns me. Yet . . . over and over again I, who would not consider for a moment stealing another human's possessions or money, far too often feel a nudge from God or know something I should be doing and I don't. I hem and haw, delay, weigh, self-justify, and sometimes do it and sometimes not. When I do this I am stealing. I am treating another's possession (me, His possession) as my own to do with what I feel like doing.

I love God, and from His worthiness and my love for Him, which stems from His love for me, I want to please Him and be a surrendered vessel through whom He might live and express Himself. It really pierced my heart to see this whole thing in this way. I've often recognized that I sense His leading and don't always want to do it, and don't always do it, but it was never so blunt and so strong to me as it was last Sunday. I am a thief. I steal. And I do it from the One I love the most. I don't know if that affects you at all, but it sure has given me pause for reflection this week. I am so glad I am loved and forgiven by Him, and that I can, knowing I am loved, begin to process this reality and start to align my life more closely with His heart. After all, I am His, and I love the security of the part of that which means nothing and no one can take me from Him. May I become better at the other half of being His . . . letting Him do with me as He will.

God bless you.   —Erick