Tuesday, September 13, 2011
I woke up this morning, like you did, opened my eyes, and took a first conscious breath. I still lived. I rejoice in that and no wonder. Life is a great gift. At the same time, however, I know what still waits. The days of my life are numbered and today, one fewer of them remains.
Life, in fact, frames itself in deaths. Not only does physical ability decline, but the cross also casts its relentless shadow. My flesh eventually fails on its own, but Your example of sacrifice says that I must voluntarily kill my independent will. I must join You there, on the cross.
I don't want to do this, of course, but that's because I have not looked far enough ahead. You not only tell me to die with You, You tell me to rise with You.
I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which He has called you, the riches of His glorious inheritance in the saints and His incomparably great power for all who believe. That power is like the working of His mighty strength which He exerted in Christ when He raised Him from the dead and seated Him at His right hand in the heavenly realms.--Acts 1:11
You created me in Your image and want me to follow You. Your path lead to Calvary and so does my own. I daily work out my salvation, my own death to sin and self-indulgence. But Your path came through the empty tomb and straight to Bethany, where you ascended in the power You always possessed, but did not exercise.
Bethany waits for me, too. My physical life's days tick off one by one, but Your power lifts me from their progress toward death. As I lay down the days of my life before You, You raise me to Your side. My own ascension will not come through practical or physical victory, it comes only in greater proximity to You.
You told me that You will take me to be where You are. So I look to You, and walk toward Bethany.
Thought for today: Toward what destination are you walking?