I was talking with my Dad over burritos today (always a good place to talk) about how recovering from our addictions to idols is what sanctification is all about. A friend of mine said recovery is like facing a huge wave while clinging to Christ, knowing that when the wave has passed over you, you'll still be standing.
Why will you still stand? Because of the hand you're holding.
This morning Teya woke up to find me sitting and staring into la-la land on the couch, a typical morning for me. She sat down on the other side of the couch, and commenced to attempt to chatter me into life. After a little while, realizing that her attempts were futile, she moved off some Lego creation of David's that was between us, snuggled up under my arm and curled up into a ball beside me.
It's small actions like these, that I absolutely treasure. They are pure gospel to me. And I woke up.
I don't think I'm being sentimental. God as divine father must just love spending time with us, his children. Can you imagine what he feels like when we long to be close, remove barriers and scoot up next to him?
The good news to me, the reality that trumps our reality (and I know I've beaten this tired horse to death), is that God really loves us. Scripture show us the climax of this love in the cross, the resurrection accomplishes this love and the hope to come will consummate this love. This love is God.
So as we face our demons, like giving up Coke for lunch (I figure I should start small), as we face our waves, our darkness and our fear, we can know without a shadow of any doubt that in clinging to God's hand and pressing our body up against his, we will stand. In this world we may doubt everything, but this trumps my doubt: a nail scarred hand gripping my hand tightly through the wave.
And as my son David always says when he's scared, hold on tighter Dad, tighter.
