The Pesky Gap

There’s often this pesky gap between who we are and who we want to be. There’s an ideal self who is strong but kind, patient but lives with firm boundaries, gracious but truthful, and the list goes on and on of all the things we think we should become.

I think part of it is not bad; in fact I think that to hope these things for ourselves is beautiful — the truth that we can (and should) change is always like sweet honey to the soul for me (Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me! — Psalm 51)

But what do we do with this gap? With doing the opposite of what we know we should? With trying and still not quite getting where we wanted to? What do I do with my own meanness, impatience, manipulation (ew) and just downright ugh-stuff? I don’t want to be those things, but somehow they just keep showing up; like little molehills in the fields of my days.

I think the problem is that we think we’re supposed to do it all alone. We think we’re supposed to accuse our hearts and minds of doing wrong and try our absolute best to just BE BETTER. I hate to break it to you, but we don’t have as much power over our own brokenness as we think we do. I’ve found that the only way to love myself and love my neighbour (sincerely) is by loving God. Apart from Him, I’m just staring at myself in the mirror, hurling insults at my own failures and flaws, hoping it will somehow make me want to change — and come to think of it, heck, I’d like other people to change too please! But what I find is that when I let Jesus in, it’s like sweet relief from all the things that try to tell me the gap is too big, all the voices that accuse me and other people of not being enough. Jesus bridges the gap.

There’s a song I love that has been such balm to the incessant critic in my head:

You can’t expect to be perfect

It’s a fight you’ve gotta forfeit

You belong to me whatever you do

So lay down your weapons, take a deep breath

And believe that I love you

… Be kind to yourself

Who we are becoming is intrinsically tied to who Jesus is. I think someone else said that, though I can’t think who. I don’t just become patient, I ask for patience from the One who is always patient. I don’t just become peaceful, I run to the Prince of Peace. I definitely don’t just become joyful (I’m a melancholic Enneagram 4 for crying out loud — literally!), I rejoice in the hope and the person of Jesus. All the things I so badly want to be, I must accept I am not. At least not alone.

Apart from God, we have no good thing. Whatever is pure, lovely and true finds its beginning and completion in Him. As much as we wouldn’t like to admit it, I think that we prefer to be the ones are who are pure, lovely and true all by ourselves, because then we can take all the credit and puff up our egos a little bit. I don’t mean that in a judgemental way, I say it with deep empathy because I know we all have different reasons and wounds that push us towards feeling the need to build up our egos and convince ourselves that we are worth something. It’s a foreign concept this, to have our lives wholly attached to and dependent on Christ’s — our world doesn’t really like the idea of dependence. But it’s so important that we realise this truth because we will not be free or open to a life sustained by grace if we are constantly convinced that we don’t need it (or don’t want to need it).

John 15 vs 5 says “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” How beautifully does that lift the heavy burdens we put on ourselves to bear good fruit alone? Jesus himself tells us that we can do nothing apart from him, yet I so often find myself surprised when I go it alone and come up short! Jesus says later in this chapter (after sharing these concepts of the vine and the branches, bearing fruit, abiding in His love) “These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be fill.” How sweet does it sound to walk through life with JOY inside of us, carrying it around wherever we go?

You know, there are a lot of things we hold Jesus to that He never promised us. We say, “God, if you just did ______, then I would know that you are really good.” And I am so aware that some of the things we are asking for are deep heart-cries and that the disappointment can be such a lonely place to be. But we need to look at what God has promised us and hold onto those things, to trust in His declaration that He alone is good, His will is being worked out and He is working all things together for our good.

One of these things that Jesus promises us is His joy. He doesn’t promise us ease or perfect circumstances so that we can be happy, He promises us joy through every season. God knows we will have trouble in this world, but His call to us is to make our homes in His love and let that be our joy and hope through each and every season — the beautiful and the devastating.

I used to really wrestle with the reality that we still experience suffering, trials, loss and hurt in our journeys with God (and will probably wrestle again when a new suffering or trial comes up!) but the more I see of the world’s brokenness and my own, the more I realise that the reality of sin will leave its marks on our lives until the day we are Home with the Lord. I’m glad that we have a God who knows and is honest about the realities of the lives we live — He is under no illusions about our brokenness, the evil that lurks, the sin that overtakes (Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows… But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace and with his wounds we are healed. — Isaiah 53).

But Jesus makes a statement that for us is hope: “Take heart, for I have overcome the world.” He has overcome the gap in me between sin and righteousness through His death and resurrection, He has overcome the evil that we see around us every day and He is coming again to make all things new.

Jesus has completed the work that we could never do ourselves. We will probably always live with a gap between who we are and who we ideally want to be in our minds, but the chasm between us and God has been closed by Jesus and that is the hope and joy we hold onto when the gap in our own minds wants to accuse us. Hallelujah it is finished, hallelujah it is done — we thank Him for the cross.