Lord, Save Me From Myself

Jon Foreman - Fall (whole album)

It's a drab, dreary, wet day. Inside and out. after yet another evening of turning in a spoiled day to the head office, I've been reflecting this morning on the desert wasteland that May has been thus far. Only three and a half days left and I haven't much hope for an oasis. My mouth is uncomfortably dry and my soul is so overwhelmed and weighted. I'm no fool, I know it could be far worse, but it's still a trial I wouldn't mind circumventing.

But I know God is shaping me. So, while the heat is at times intense and my natural reaction is to get out quick, I shall be hopeful in Jesus and what He's working out. Heated metal is easier to shape.

Wow. That looks so good on paper, and sitting here on the screen, but, to be honest, I feel like King David in many of his psalms. So conflicted and torn between Heaven and Earth. Between God and myself.

One moment praising God for His grace, mercy and love. For pulling me out of judgment's flames and adopting me as His son while I was still his enemy. The next moment spitting in His face, believing in lies. Conspiring against Him with the enemy. Glorifying His name one minute and making Him out ot be a liar the next.

Beating my chest and grieving my brokenness, crying out to Heaven, "Lord, have mercy! What a wretched sinner I am! Who will save me from this body of death?" Having a heart that is being sanctified, converted, changed to the likeness of Christ, yet a flesh that remains distorted and broken. Mangled and faded from the effects of sin. Death.

Lord, save me from myself. You are trustworthy and faithful. How little I trust myself.

I'm a control freak. A liar. A murderer. I lust, cheat, covet. I'm full of pride and arrogance. I am an idolator, a glutton. I'm self centered and mean.

Thank God for Jesus. Those things, while I continue to struggle with them, do not define my identity. They are not who I am. I am His. Still broken, but being made whole.

Sigh. Check that against God's word; the Bible. If there's a conflict, His word wins.

So tired.

Sustain me, Father, I pray. Without your steady, unfailing hands I would be overcome.


p.s. (Yeah, I know, this isn't a letter...) Jon Foreman, if you ever read this, thank you for an honest, heart felt album. Praise music can seem so unrealistic and trite at times. So, really, thank you.