Everybody loves a cute kid wearing silly clothes. Daniel, the five-year-old, dragon-drawing son of our housemates Pete and Samie, sometimes puts on his dad’s shoes and walks around the house in them. Adorable. I remember doing the same thing in my grand-daddy’s dusty cowboy boots there at his farm house in Blackfish Lake, Arkansas.
 
Daniel n' boots
But the memory’s charm vanishes as I realize that I do this very thing again and again – not with old boots, but with increasingly mature levels of Christ-like qualities that are yet to have formed in me. I desire not only look quite impressive in them, but also to operate in a maturity not my own in this full-speed reality that is my life.
 
What if Daniel tried to wear those shoes to school – he would soon find himself with tired legs, blistered feet, and (more importantly) a disappointed heart. And so here I sit.
 
Ninety percent of the shame I struggle with has to do with not measuring up to godly goals, disciplined patterns, and character fine-tunings that I perceive in my head as ‘the next step’, when in reality, I haven’t developed naturally into the measure of patience, discipline, wisdom, husbandry(word?) that I strive to live by in my day-to-day life. I end up tired, disheartened, ashamed, and disappointed with myself in this twisted cycle.
And all the while, have stopped to hear the words of Jesus? Have I worried nearly so much about what He actually thinks about me in this moment as I have about my own idea of how holy I might become with a little effort and struggle? You don’t have to say it – I already know: my struggles are weird, twisted, backwards to the grace of God. In a word, fallen.
 
 
And while I can’t help but be at least marginally thankful that I am learning to recognize my patterns and struggles, I feel like a drowning man in the quandary of my ridiculous state. I can't believe I'm about to quote DC Talk: “This only serves to confirm my suspicion: that I’m still a man in need of a savior.”
"Have I worried nearly so much about what He actually thinks about me in this moment?"
After years of frustration, I’ve learned why I act like this. It’s nothing more than my way of saying, “Daddy, look at me! I’m down here! I’m doing well (aren’t I?). Tell me I’m good! Tell me I’m a big enough man to live this life the way you want me to! Tell me I’m enough! Tell me I’m pleasing to you…”
 
And in the midst of my silent wailing, I remember the feeding of the 4,000. And I remember his non-negotiable acceptance of me. And I remember Psalm 139:
 
 "You discern my going out and my lying down;
       you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue
       you know it completely, O LORD.
You hem me in—behind and before;
       you have laid your hand upon me."
 
And I remember my life – the addictions that were crushed in an instant, and the freedom I felt. The joy of hearing Him, listening to Him. The security that dawned in my life when I fully realized that following Jesus is the best thing I could ever do with my life, because He is the most trustworthy person ever. My striving is neutralized again as I recall this God of mine, whom Brennan Manning courageously refers to as “mad with love – drunk with love…”
 

And so now we come to this. A change. Not a fake change, like those I have feigned so predictably in years past. But instead, a true change - one that will result in true worship, if kept, because it hinges entirely on His feelings for me – His words to me – that I am enough for Him, even without 20 years of change happening overnight. It’s a resolution revolution – that is, a resolution to not make any more resolutions! Imagine that...a resolution to only change when He intervenes and moves me Himself. A resolution to rest.

On a practical level, it means learning to ‘take captive to Christ’ not only those thoughts that propose obvious sin, but equally those that tempt me to make something of myself for God that I am not yet grown into naturally by His grace.
 
It means knowing the difference between my trying to be something for God and my actually experiencing God’s natural growth curve. It’s about living in Psalm 23, Psalm 139. It’s about trusting Jesus’ view of me rather than struggling with my own. Isn't that where all worship begins - with enjoying this: that He loved me first?
  
Barry Hall and his wife Charlotte moved to Chichester, England from Kansas City, Kansas to be a part of 24-7 Prayer. They both graduated from Baylor University in Waco, Texas. Between the both of them they love hiking to the trundle, writing stationery, Widespread Panic, and our dog Bella!!
Please email Barry here with feedback, questions...