when comforts are declining...

I listened to an awesome sermon tonight. You should listen to it too. Here (it's the one titled "Rebellion: The Man Who Sins"). My head is kind of spinning with all the thoughts mentioned, but one truth stuck out to me, I think because it's really relevant to my life. Josh points out that we tend water down our own depravity, and even prefer to create a life of comfort within our depravity, allowing it to become the "norm." And by ignoring the depth of our depravity, we ignore our own need for a savior. 

I'll be honest, by the world's standards, I've had a pretty easy life. My parents are awesome, God-honoring people who created a home of love and laughter (and I know that "love" and "laughter" paired together sounds really cheesy and cliche, and like something straight from a wall decal, but we really do love each other and we really do laught A LOT when we're together). My siblings are the best. Two sisters and a brother who really care about me and have great hearts that are seeking God (my brother also has chickens, which makes him tres cool, but that's irrelevant). I have close friends that I talk to regularly, who know what's important to me and share with me what's important to them. And I have Landon, who is my teammate in every sense of the world. He is my fellow pilgrim on this journey, always walking by my side and allowing me to be near him. Things are good. I'm pretty sure I've had three meals a day for all 8,592 days I've been alive (totally did the math). Okay let's be honest, on most of those days I probably had five meals (pretty sure I invented this). 

I've had opportunity, support, love and grace surrounding me for my entire life. And most days, I think subconsciously I assume that things are the way they are because I'm a good person, or because I've been given God's version of "Pass Go and Collect $200", or because I'm just not as depraved. But in reality, I need a constant reminder that the opportunity, support, love and grace that I've been given are not, and will never be, of myself. Because every, EVERY, good and perfect gift is from above. Because I've chosen to neglect, or even wallow in my own depravity, I've allowed myself to believe that I don't need a savior. Sure, I've been told my whole life that we're all in desperate need of Him. But I've never truly sensed my own desperation. I've buried any sign of it deep, deep within my soul and removed myself from the belief that I need a savior each and every moment of the day. 

And so I think hearing this sermon marks an important point in my journey, where I'm going to allow God to reveal my depravity and create within me a sense of trust and reliance on His gift of salvation. Josh mentions the works of Flannery O'Connor, one of my favorite authors, in his sermon. O'Connor was once asked why she wrote of such grotesque, exaggerated, misguided and evil characters. She replied that true depravity has to be present in order for redemption to do its work and matter, so she exaggerated her characters as a means of drawing her readers' attention to redemption.

My prayer is that I might recognize my own depravity and come face to face with my salvation.

xoxo.

PS. I love Door of Hope's rendition of this hymn. Listen here ("He Who Feeds the Ravens"). 

Sometimes a light surprises the Christian while he sings;

It is the Lord, who rises with healing in His wings:

When comforts are declining, He grants the soul again

A season of clear shining, to cheer it after rain.

In holy contemplation we sweetly then pursue

The theme of God’s salvation, and find it ever new.

Set free from present sorrow, we cheerfully can say,

Let the unknown tomorrow bring with it what it may.

It can bring with it nothing but He will bear us through;

Who gives the lilies clothing will clothe His people, too;

Beneath the spreading heavens, no creature but is fed;

And He Who feeds the ravens will give His children bread.

Though vine nor fig tree neither their wonted fruit should bear,

Though all the field should wither, nor flocks nor herds be there;

Yet God the same abiding, His praise shall tune my voice,

For while in Him confiding, I cannot but rejoice.