I Am Not

"Given the pressure He carried was applied to me, I would fold."

HE IS WORTHY, and I don’t measure up. He is true and honest and just and pure and lovely, full of goodness and endless in virtue. I am not. In Him rests all knowledge and honest judgment. In Him is the fullness of mercy and compassion. I have none. Jesus Christ walked on earth as a human without sinning in action or thought. I definitely can’t reach this ideal. Just this morning I have been angry and bitter, frustrated and sad. I have been human, but my human and His human are world’s apart. He is the ideal, the character and nature of an Almighty God brought to earth with the purest motive for the most humble reason. He is God, but He laid that aside, all His divine power and glory, to be here in the dust, to face His accusers and die at their hand. I can’t measure up to that. He is the holiness seen by the apostle John in Revelation, the radiance of the Father, the One Anointed by the Power of the Spirit which created this world. He is the very foundation of all that exists, that which is, and He is the future which will become. Which will, without doubt become. I’m just me.

“And among the lampstands was one who appeared to be human, just like a Son of Man. He was wearing a robe flowing down to his feet and had a golden breastplate on his chest; his hair was brilliant white, like snow, and his eyes shone brightly like a fire. His feet glowed like metal in a furnace, and his voice resounded with energy like a roaring river. He held seven stars in his right hand, and the words coming from his mouth were the sharp double-edged sword of truth. His face radiated energy like the sun shining at midday. When I saw him, I fell down at his feet, afraid that I couldn’t tolerate the intensity of the experience, but he gently placed his right hand on me and said, ‘Don’t be afraid. I am the Beginning and the End.’” (Revelation 1:13-17, Remedy)

I can’t measure up. Can’t stand that tall nor that clean nor react that well. Given the pressure He carried was applied to me, I would fold. This isn’t a treatise against Suzanne D. Williams, putting my faults on display, but that for all my efforts to do good and be good and do the right thing, I fall far short. Yet, He who is so perfect, so beautiful, lifts me up to His stature. I am not His stature, but I am filled with His Spirit. I am not His goodness, but He pours it into me. I am not humble and kind and gentle as He is, yet in His kindness and with His gentleness, He makes me so. On my own, I am an empty container, filled with whatever comes my way. In His care, what I’m filled with changes everything.

His sun rises on the just and on the unjust, on Democrat and Republican, on Hamas and Israelite, on legalized American and border thief. He doesn’t choose where it falls nor for how long but knew when He formed it and set it in place that there would be those who don’t deserve one single ray. He hung it anyway. He knew there would be Cain to kill Abel, knew that there would be Abraham looking for a ram, knew that Lot’s wife would look behind her, knew that Hagar would have Ishmael and his descendants go on to produce nations. He saw Esau’s birthright sold to Isaac. He saw Aaron become His first High Priest and knew, however many generations later, that those who followed would fall far short and hang Himself on a tree. He saw Nebuchadnezzar and Babylon, Daniel and his interpretation of dreams. He set King Cyrus to funding His people’s return, knew the rebuilding of His city would come in the midst of conflict. He knew all these things yet told the sea where to stop on dry land anyway.

He is generous, though we are stingy. He is abundance, though we are poor. He is wisdom, though we are foolish. Though we are hatred and strife and division, though we are opinion and criticism and cruelty, He gives love. We continually fall short because it is His portrait we resemble. As a withered limb resembles the tree it has fallen from. We are death, but from Him flows life as a gift to any who will stop and drink. What we don’t deserve and can’t measure up to, He freely supplies. Where we fall apart and can’t hold ourselves together, He heals and mends. Where we mouth off and must plead for forgiveness, He gives it without measure, at His own expense, without any price.

He is Savior. I am not. He is Redeemer. I can barely hold my head above water. He is Victor over the death which consumes me. He is the Breath of heaven, which blows aside all the dross, and there in the midst of what swirls around me, surrounded by my losses, my incapabilities, I see all that He is shining brightly. And can only marvel that, the clouds dripping rain from a gloomy gray sky, He sends it to fall anyway.

“And Moses said unto God, Behold, when I come unto the children of Israel, and shall say unto them, The God of your fathers hath sent me unto you; and they shall say to me, What is his name? what shall I say unto them? And God said unto Moses, I AM THAT I AM: and he said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you.” (Exodus 3:13-14)

“Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.”
(2 Corinthians 5:17)

Suzanne D. Williams, Author