How I got to Germany

"Now, at the end of Basic training, my unit got together so they could read our assignments. It was the Korean war, and I don't think that any of us wanted to go to Korea. The Sergent announced that the A's-L's and part of the M's were going to Germany, and that the rest of us were going to Korea. Now, our last name's [redacted], so I was off the hook. There was no fighting in Germany, and I was pretty happy to stay away from the fighting."

Who I am hates who I've been...

Relient K has a song, Who I am hates who I've been. Sometimes, I find that I take this one step further. Sometimes, who I am hates who I am. I think sometimes this is why I fall into long confessory prayers. Certainly I am guilty of great sin, but that's not what I want to spend my prayer time focusing on.

I listened to a sermon recently from 707. The crux of it was that maybe we should stop telling God all about how bad we are. There were two reasons for this, first, it's not productive, but moreover, that's not the person God knows. When God looks at us, he sees Jesus. He doesn't see all the times that I've fallen, not that he's unaware of them, but it's not the part of me that he sees. It's not the part of me that he knows. It's certainly not the part of me that I want to be. The sermon's focus was that rather than telling God who I am, I should be asking God who I am. God knows everything about me, and seems to think that I'm worthwhile. I'd like to know that version of me. The version that God wanted to know. God is Holy. I am not. God who is Holy made a way, at great personal expense, to know me. He wanted this relationship, one which He had no need of, with me, and paid dearly for the privilege.

I've started praying lately that God would show me what he sees in me. A lot of times, when I look in the mirror, I don't see much of value. I've started asking God to show me what I'm missing.

Basic Training

"Well, now, I was drafted into the Korean War. We call it the Korean War, but of course, it was a police action." Grandpa sits across from me at his kitchen table. "So, they sent us off to basic training. Boy, that was a time. We had to get up early every day, and be ready to march in formation. They taught us to shoot a gun. Of course, I already knew how, but some guys got there, and they had never handled a rifle in their life, so they had to teach everybody the same way. We even got to try shooting the machine guns, they had targets set up down the range, but sometimes the instructor would say, 'pick a tree, and take it down' and we'd aim at a tree, and shoot it. We'd take turns on the gun until the tree finally came down.

One day, we were marching in formation, along a row of tents. The drill sergeant had to duck into a tent, so he yelled for a halt, and we were all supposed to stand there, and wait for him to say to go again. I was standing in the back, and I could do a fair impression of his voice, so I yelled, 'Forward March!' and the line of guys took off marching. When we got to the corner, I sent us to the right, down past some buildings, and on down the road. I stopped yelling orders when he finally caught up, but nobody would tell him it was me. We were all so sick of marching in formation that we liked the idea of him coming out of that tent, and finding his platoon all gone. Everybody got a good laugh out of that one."

Price vs. Worth

I was talking to my wife yesterday about Jesus dying on the cross for us. Now, I know all of the biblical points about sin leading to death, and that Jesus took our sin (and it's penalty) on himself, but I was struck by something. Jesus paid an incredibly high price for me.

"Every man has his price" is a terribly abused idiom in the movies. But, in a lot of ways, I'm convinced that it's true. I'm also convinced that my price is rather low. Now, I'm not talking about money. If you offered me money to do something despicable, I think I'd likely turn it down. My pride would prevent me from accepting that kind of thing. That's the problem though, God doesn't work with money. I wouldn't be willing to lie to friends and family for money, but I find that I do lie to the people around me to avoid embarrassment. My price therefore, seems to be my reputation. I sell my view of myself in order to preserve others view of me. That's my price.

My price comes in a lot of forms, I find that I'm quick to fall into sin to preserve my pride. Let me screw something up at work, and I'm quick to think of how I could manage the situation, cover my mistake, preserve my pride. I'm far too slow at thinking of how I can go to my supervisor and say, "I messed this up." Show me a pretty girl, and I'm quick to fall into lust. My price is a pretty face.

In light of all this, Jesus death on the cross seems to have had precious little to do with my price. It seems instead that God was saying, in a tangible way, "This is what you're worth". Jesus death paid the "price" for my sins, but also set my "worth" in God's eyes. It appears that God thinks I'm worth quite a bit.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about all of this, the idea of what God thinks I'm worth, and how that affects the way I see myself. Look for this in upcoming posts. Thanks.