Job description for believers: bearer of the cross, guardian of the gospel message, conveyor of eternal riches, giver of grace, ambassador of Christ, lover of the unlovable, washer of feet, vessel of mercy, peacemaker for troubled hearts, reflector of His glory, whisperer of heavenly mysteries, declarer of His praise, keeper of His secrets, embracing the position of a chosen-precious-and-pampered child of God.
I fail miserably at all job requirements, except maybe the pampered part. I have no problem basking in His goodness and accepting His gifts. Good thing, because He knew when He created me that I couldn’t hold up my end of the deal.
He knows I’m just dust.
It seems every time I pick up my cross to follow Him, I fall far behind, complaining along the way. Whether it’s splinters, fatigue, discouragement, pain, sweat, lack of vision, or just plain selfishness, I find myself messing up and giving up—a hard place to be if you’re the kind that likes doing things right.
Each time the cross falls from my shoulder and thunders to the ground, I wince and wonder if this is the time when He’ll finally give up on me.
Then He reminds me—He knows I’m just dust. And somehow, He calls this dust precious and pampers me with His goodness and reassures me that His cross is enough.
