ain't nothin like the real thing
Posted on November 20, 2009 with 0 comments
I don’t want to sound negative, because I generally like to look at the positive side of life, but I’m sick to death of fake stuff. We are inundated with it. The world is bursting at the seams with sugar substitutes, calf implants, religious masks and intriguing shadows. Why? Why are we so ravenous for falsity?
When real is so glorious, why fall for fake?
Why do we tolerate it? We naturally have a nose for it; every child can smell a fake. Why do we ignore that split second—as immediate as a blink—when we can see things for what they are and know they feel funny? Why are we generally so conditioned that we’ve turned off this most basic filter?
How often do we so much more value the shadow that we miss the actual when it comes into view?
I can’t abide it anymore. Religion makes me tired, saps my energy, makes me wish I’d never heard the name of Jesus because it’s too hard to strap on my act everyday. I’m a failure at it. I hate doing things I’m not good at, so religion doesn’t work for me. I rebel against things I hate. Even while I’m really good at faking that I like it and I'm playing the game, for all practical purposes I’m always planning my escape behind a smile and empty words. And so there I am, being fake...please, someone tell me that two fakes don't make a right.
Now Jesus, Him I love. In Him there's a sigh of relief, a relaxing, a whimper and a cry and a grateful sob, like a toddler might give when her mom really does come back to get her from the nursery. Jesus is real, so I can love Him without fear of disappointment. I can trust Him. Best of all, He expects only what I can give Him, which is all of me at any given time; good thing, cause that’s all I’ve got. I get a break from the fake.
The counterfeit-loving world always says to me, “Do more! Press harder! Give. Produce. Create. Add to. Stretch. Tighten up. Maintain. Give more. Now…”
No.
Jesus, I choose to turn and look to You. Thanks for only asking for what I have right now. It’s a joy and a pleasure to give that, a relief past all I can imagine. Thanks for letting me relax for once. I will. I will rest in You. I believe You, and in your acceptance is perfect peace. Thank you for winning me access to this place by taking my place on the cross…and pulling me over to the other side where there are no shadows to confuse me. Thanks for giving me eyes to see the real, to appreciate truth and claim it boldly even if everyone else loves the fake.
When real is so glorious, why fall for fake?
Why do we tolerate it? We naturally have a nose for it; every child can smell a fake. Why do we ignore that split second—as immediate as a blink—when we can see things for what they are and know they feel funny? Why are we generally so conditioned that we’ve turned off this most basic filter?
How often do we so much more value the shadow that we miss the actual when it comes into view?
I can’t abide it anymore. Religion makes me tired, saps my energy, makes me wish I’d never heard the name of Jesus because it’s too hard to strap on my act everyday. I’m a failure at it. I hate doing things I’m not good at, so religion doesn’t work for me. I rebel against things I hate. Even while I’m really good at faking that I like it and I'm playing the game, for all practical purposes I’m always planning my escape behind a smile and empty words. And so there I am, being fake...please, someone tell me that two fakes don't make a right.
Now Jesus, Him I love. In Him there's a sigh of relief, a relaxing, a whimper and a cry and a grateful sob, like a toddler might give when her mom really does come back to get her from the nursery. Jesus is real, so I can love Him without fear of disappointment. I can trust Him. Best of all, He expects only what I can give Him, which is all of me at any given time; good thing, cause that’s all I’ve got. I get a break from the fake.
The counterfeit-loving world always says to me, “Do more! Press harder! Give. Produce. Create. Add to. Stretch. Tighten up. Maintain. Give more. Now…”
No.
Jesus, I choose to turn and look to You. Thanks for only asking for what I have right now. It’s a joy and a pleasure to give that, a relief past all I can imagine. Thanks for letting me relax for once. I will. I will rest in You. I believe You, and in your acceptance is perfect peace. Thank you for winning me access to this place by taking my place on the cross…and pulling me over to the other side where there are no shadows to confuse me. Thanks for giving me eyes to see the real, to appreciate truth and claim it boldly even if everyone else loves the fake.