Tired of pleasing God? Have you reached the end of your patience for yourself? Do you wonder what is so wrong with you that you can’t stop doing the wrong things?
But God has shown me a better path than I have ever walked before. So often I have my own plans, my own thoughts, and yet He shows me a more beautiful direction ( 1 Corinthians 12:31). I have found that there is no one I have to please. No, not one. All those people in the world, you cannot earn by pleasing them. They are human. They are not where our worth is found. But what about God, should we not please him? I tell you now, Christians have already pleased God; all the trying we do is in vain. This may sound as though I am saying sin is okay, but do not misunderstand me, that is not my words. When we accept God’s will we lose our desire to sin, but there are still our emotions; they lie to us. They say our real being is in the swinging emotions, and they say when we sin that is the real us. But neither side of the swing is the real us. The real us is our spirit. And our spirit will never change. Our spirit is made perfect through Christ. And that is the real us, and and it says that we are holy, righteous, and redeemed. We are not trying to earn our way to heaven through our actions; we shine because we have been saved by grace. It is not about what we are doing; it is about what God has already done for us. That is why the gospel is called the good news; it is, in fact the best news I will ever hear.
I had reached a final moment, a final place, a final thought. This thought had buried me amongst the wild tangle of this world. I have been caught in a trap of thinking . The other day I was walking along a path filled with fresh, bright grass and ahead was a sky, azure blue, and I was so happy, so happy! And not only happy, but contented too, which is much better than happiness. It was then that I met a thought. I should have looked it in the face and turned and run away, but instead I shook hands with it and picked up what it had left and adorned myself with it. And that adorning thought became my pride and joy, while also my pain and my hate. I said to it, “Go away, go away, I despise you!” but as I cried this I clung to it all the harder as to not really let it leave. It appeared everywhere in my life, but mostly when I was most weak, most afraid. It, in turn, taught me things. It taught me the sentence, “What is wrong with me?” “Why can I never do enough?” It taught me to not believe the very words that escaped my own mouth. But one day, not one of those came out, instead I cried, “Lord, I’m done trying! I surrender to you; please I need help!” And the Lord at my shoulder grabbed my quivering hand and said, “Peace! Do not worry. We shall do this together.” And so He ripped off the adorning thought and in its place gave me something better, something that is hard to perfectly describe. It is something warm and confident, something beyond temporal surroundings. It is, perhaps-peace.