it’s cold and yucky, and I don’t just mean outside.
this is the human condition.
we’re biting lips and tongues in an effort to pretend it isn’t so…
but, oh, friend…
there are enough deserts and blustery-cold wastelands on the topography of my heart, for me to understand the pattern of obsession.
and, let’s be honest, it’s ugly, isn’t it?
’cause you’ve got it, too.
hidden there, buried deep.
or perhaps stretched wide on the clothesline of socially acceptable society, in hopes that your of-the-world camouflage will help it to disappear.
stamped across my facebook newsfeed.
artistically captured on snapchat.
obsessed with being like-able
obsessed with the idea of love
obsessed with materialism
obsessed with your good girl image
obsessed with your bad girl image
obsessed with the perfect lifestyle
obsessed with being enough
obsessed with your friends
obsessed with your boyfriend
obsessed with your husband
obsessed with yourself
obsessed with sex
obsessed with your cute apartment
obsessed with starbucks
obsessed with security
obsessed with your grades
obsessed with your career
obsessed with partying
obsessed with your kids
obsessed with finding yourself
obsessed with travel
obsessed with your own creativity
obsessed with the new product you just tried
obsessed with your blog
obsessed with your “idol”
obsessed with your opinion
obsessed with making money
obsessed with shopping
obsessed with your small business
obsessed with your personality
obsessed with safety
obsessed with comfort
obsessed with your college major
obsessed with an idea
obsessed with your “calling”
obsessed with anything but Jesus
that can’t be right.
and yet, so sadly, it is…
and it’s wrong, you guys.
but still we parade our opinions and fight stupid battles and buy more shabby-chic home decor than we can afford and gossip and ignore orphans and widows and look down on others and immerse ourselves in the dark sexual shadows of countless shades of grey and make family the whole point of our lives and stop witnessing and shoot judgmental looks at the gay couple and spend way too much time at our job and forget to spend time with our Creator and keep your kids away from that one troubled kid- whose parents are obviously awful to raise a kid like that- and don’t take seriously the great and overwhelming call to utter holiness and mirroring the perfect Man.
and we don’t look anything like Jesus.
that’s just wrong.
we make up our own Jesus, and he drinks Starbucks everyday and affirms our addictions and assures us in our bad habits and always always cuts us lots of slack when we don’t feel like doing the right thing.
let me just say…
I don’t care about your mani pedi. are you spending that much on the gospel, too?
your cute house doesn’t really impress me… unless you’re inviting in the broken and housing the homeless and teaching the weaker in the faith over a cup of joe from that gigantic espresso maker.
I’m not really interested in your twenty million selfies from your missions trip to Africa… were you facing the kids and the sick and the hungry when your camera was facing you, or were you using them for good Christian girl points?
that giant batch of perfectly iced and exquisitely instagrammed cookies are great… but did you use them to connect with your neighbors?
guilty pleasure? true pleasure from true beauty bathed in holiness need not be guilty… what is it you’re finding pleasure in?
that adorable puppy of yours that you call your child? yeah, he’s cute, and he’s created by God, and therefore should be taken care of and treated well… but he’s certainly not a branded-with-the-image-of-God-human. are you sponsoring orphans and investing in their souls, too?
some of you really hate me right now 😉
what if we stood up and said no to injustice and began adopting orphans and wept over those fifty and more shades of grey and stopped yelling “merry CHRISTmas” and chose our battles and welcomed the gay couple into church with open arms and showered grace on those who don’t deserve it and shattered our pride with the heavy hammer of humility and sacrificed everything for the gospel and died to ourselves daily and ditched that overspending habit and stopped attacking our own brothers and sisters over matters of opinion and forgave all those ugly and scar-slicing wrongs and stood up for equality of race and lived our lives as an ongoing conversation with the Lover of our souls?
what if we were obsessed with holiness?