We Don’t Have To Be Robots

I love the running conversation my 7 year old son and I have going.

“We don’t have to be robots, Cade. It’s much better to be real and let Jesus be enough.”

Truth is I am telling myself. Far too often with the role I play in life {one that is decidedly a role of influence and a little more “public” than others might choose to live} I unknowingly and at times knowingly hard press my heart towards a persona of perfection. I feel this extreme responsibility and expectation to be focused constantly. Alert always. Compassionate and forgiving in unending streams. I feel tremendous burden to remain calm in public situations with my children. I feel hot eyes on me and on the function of my family life a great number of days. I’m not referring to being an ego maniac or experiencing an overzealous sense of self. I’m talking about the tensions those that have crossed the line to live a life of influence feel. Those seasons of strain that remind you that you are not your own and you, along with all you stand with and for, fall under the viewing eyes of others. The desires that flow from a heart that genuinely wants to be used up for Kingdom purposes, yeilding fully, seeking God whole heartedly, and yet raging against the machine of humanness.

I understand this post may not be for everyone. Some may never think or feel the burdens I’m expressing. Nonetheless, I am compelled to partner with those that have stepped over the line and offered their lives to be viewed through a public lens in an offering of service to others. However this being an ongoing conversation I have with my 7 year old I am giving myself the liberty to believe it may be a topic that knows no age limits or life positions.

I feel like I have to be a robot sometimes.

But the resounding and ugly {which for some may be disappointing…and yet others might rather enjoy my confession.} truth is that I am NOT a robot. I’m all flesh. 100%. Any good in me has NOTHING to do with me. Those that love me most know this to be all too true.

“Me” gets angry and yells sometimes even when I know the rules say don’t.

“Me” gets weary and just doesn’t have the right answers or emotional space to give someone that is desperate for both.

“Me” gets exasperated with my kids when I should show extravagant grace.

“Me” gets my feelings hurt more than I should. My skin isn’t near as robust as it should be to navigate life as a speaker, a writer, a coach’s wife or a mother.

“Me” jumps too quickly towards confrontation. I get overly passionate about things I should simply allow the space to play out.

“Me” questions God’s motives and His plan far too often. I behave as a selfish child that pridefully thinks she knows better or sees further.

“Me” progresses through the temptation to stay tired, cranky, over spent, unhappy, discontent, quitting, unreasonable, jealous, embittered and hug too tightly to the tight rope of unbelief…..

In Christian circles that is a mortifying “me” list. A woman like that is just waiting to be tied up, tossed in a circle and stoned.

Too many of us stand with warm rocks turning over in our hands.

No one is a robot. Everyone has a version of the mortifying “me” list I just jotted down.
Everyone.

That list and those “me’s” are why when I sing and feel the spiritual space to truly worship I lift my hands to the side and throw my head back….

….Because I can’t do it on my own…..

“On my own” results in me single handedly ruining my own life by giving in to unredeemed emotions and fears.
“On my own” results in allowing my imagination to run so rampant I make decisions based on perceptions or gossips or the insatiable desire I have to defend a cause.

We aren’t robots. Sometimes our red hot misfired wires cross. Sometimes we just reveal nothing but flesh. I realized a long time ago I wasn’t a robot and yielded {and continue to yield moment by moment} to Jesus to take care of all my fumbles as a human. It doesn’t give me a “hall pass” on giving in to the temptation of all those things, but it does grant what C. S. Lewis referred to as the distinguishing characteristic of our faith. Grace.

Grace can flow through the robotic gears of my locked up life and flesh. Jesus can keep my heart soft and far from the hardening cracks of cynicism.

There is a limit to the illusion of perfection in the world. Nothing is perfect. That’s where Jesus covers the multitude of our failings.

That’s where Jesus offers Grace. That’s why those of us that have had to drink the cup of Grace so deeply run so quickly to offer Grace to others willing to admit the most liberating statement you may ever make.

“I’m not a robot. It’s much better to be real and just let Jesus be enough.”

Blessed {happy, enviably fortunate, and spiritually prosperous—possessing the happiness produced by the experience of God’s favor and especially conditioned by the revelation of His grace, regardless of their outward conditions} are the pure in heart, for they shall see God! Matthew 5:8

Speak Your Mind

*