Jekyll and Hyde, horses, and silversmiths

A few days ago, when I got home from a miserably long day at work, I realized something. I am truly a horrible person. Truly. And since as Christians we're supposed to strive to be good, and be like Jesus, realizing how deep down I'm truly horrible threw me into a moment of dispair. My thoughts were running rampant and I struggled as always with myself. And then I came upon ANOTHER realization, one that made me feel a lot better, and was God-breathed into my subconcious, I'm certain, because the way I was feeling that day, I wouldn't have thought it on my own.

Let me explain. When I realized I was horrible, it's not that I'm horrible all the time. I struggle to do good, kind things, and behave in a manner similar to that of Jesus. And when I say I struggle, I do mean it. I practically have to bite off my tounge to not scream at people and tell them how I really feel sometimes, I have to practically sit on my hands to not slap someone or throttle them when they're being rude or nasty or obnoxious. And honestly, truly honestly? Often times, I want to be horrible. I want to be nasty sometimes. Sometimes, when I'm in a truly awful mood, it actually gives me pleasure to make everyone around me miserable too. (They do say misery loves company). When I realized I was horrible, it was a realization that deep down in my core, left to my own devices, and certainly if I was not a Christian, I would be the horrible witch that is residing in my soul. I wouldn't censor my thoughts and feelings and actions the way I do now and so I can tell you with absolute certainty that I would have little if any friends and more enemies than I could count. If you think I'm exaggerating, I can assure you I'm not. One day inside my head would convince you of that. Actually I guess you can just read the examples above to get a little glimpse of that.

So now it would make you wonder why I'm trying to convince you all how horrible I am. Why am I so horrible? Well, it's like Paul said. It's easier, certainly. I suppose because I was born a sinner, I have more of a tendency to want to be bad than good. But because of Jesus, although I want to be bad, I know it's wrong. So I struggle with myself, against myself, to rise above the sin that's in me so that Jesus and his goodness can fill me and shine through me. It's a daily battle that leaves me exhausted by the end of the day. Deep down inside of me, inside my heart and soul that no human can see but God can, I'm horrible. But because of God's grace and constant work in me, you don't see that. Sure, like everyone, I let my anger and temper and stubborness get the best of me sometimes, and people get a glimpse of the horrible nature I'm hiding. Well, not hiding exactly, subduing may be a better word. The thought that crossed my mind that made me feel better was God telling me that while I hate this constant struggle in me, while I hate to look inside myself and see how horrible I want to be and actually am sometimes, the fact that I'm struggling is awesome! Because my struggle means that Jesus is residing in me and working in me. That's the key! It's the reason why I hate when I'm being horrible, even when I want to be horrible. It's God working in me, influencing my life, making me better. He's scraping away all the rough edges, polishing me up, molding me into his image. I'm certainly not the finished workmanship God is desiring for me, no, I still struggle mightly with anger, unforgiveness, bitterness, grudges.... the list goes on. I'm exactly like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Except I was born Mr. Hyde- nasty and cruel and horrible- and through Jesus's influence, am becoming more like Dr. Jekyll-kind and gentle and good.

While I'm using metaphors to give you a description of my true nature, another great one is that I'm completely like a wild mare. Wild, independent, and untamed. And if anyone has seen wild horses, or horses that have been mistreated, you can see the great power they have. They can easily kill people or other horses in their fear and rage. In my true nature, I'm like that. Jesus is like the bit in my mouth, God is the master who tames me. Taming an unbroken horse requires great skill, patience, and love on the part of the trainer. It requires constant effort and usually needs to be repeated quite a bit. God has been taming me, Jesus is the bit that directs me where to go. And sure, like any horse, there are days when I want to act on my independent nature and go where I want to go. But that bit in my mouth is always there, and in the end, like the horse, I subdue to it. Although I'll admit quite often, I subdue to it only because every other option I've tried hasn't worked. :P And sometimes I subdue to God, albeit sulkily and miserable because of the circumstances surrounding me. What gives me great hope is that I know that I am made uniquely me. On better days, when I want to dispair at my horrible nature I keep fighting with, I am reminded that God made me this way. He made me to be very independent, so he knows I struggle with humbling myself. He made my fiery spirit, so he knows I struggle with my anger and temper. He made me capable of deep, loyal love, so he knows I struggle with bitterness when I'm betrayed. And yes, there are plenty of times when I struggle and my bad nature wins. But there are more times when I struggle and my good nature wins. And each time that happens, I look a little more like Jesus.

To end this blog, there are verses in the Bible that say that we as Christians are being refined, like silver. Honestly I can't quite remember where they are in the Bible, but they're there. In one of my online devotionals a while back, I read this story about a group of women in a Bible study who were discussing these verses. They wondered how silver was refined. What exactly is the process? So one woman set to find out. The next week, she came to the group in awe. Turns out that refining silver is hard work. In order for the silver to be refined and pure, to have all the impurities removed, the silversmith has to put the silver in an extremely hot fire. This helps melt all the impurities away. He can beat the silver on an anvil to shape it in the shape he wants. Painful! And during this entire process, the silversmith can't take his eyes off the silver, or else it could ruin. And most importantly... the woman asked the silversmith how he knew when the silver was done, and fully refined. He replied, "When I can see my reflection in it."

Amen. God shapes us and molds us in sometimes the most painful processes ever, but we can be assured and fearless because we know that he never takes his eyes off of us the entire time. And at the end, he sees himself in us. If that's not a beautiful hope, I don't know what is. :)