itchy scratchy crunchy

One thing I don't really struggle with is trying to earn my salvation. I suppose you could say I'm a bit of an underachiever in that area.  When I feel God working in my soul, I don't get all "Hallelujah, praise Jesus!"  I get uncomfortable like a toddler in one of those itchy scratchy dresses that crunch when you move, except it's all itchy scratchy on the inside and I can't just change my clothes.  And believe me, I've tried changing outfits about a dozen times each morning, but nothing I can do on the outside makes me feel less itchy scratchy on the inside. It's a strange parallel between my physical and mental state, but I find it uncannily accurate.

I was so grouchy this week that by the time Friday morning rolled around and Quinn treated me to a massive meltdown in Chick-fil-a, I was just done. You should feel more sorry for the students I taught on Friday than for me because I was ferocious, like rabid dog on the warpath, ferocious.  And though I've managed to keep the foaming at the mouth under control, I'm still not really settled I my soul, as evidenced by the fact that I changed clothes seven time this morning because everything felt wrong.

I suppose this is the point where most people change something on their lives, buy something, lose weight, get a new hairdo. I have this suspicion that God is trying to squeeze a crunchy pink dress over my head, and it is stuck around my ears because it's so stiff and tight. All I really want to do is run in the other direction, like a toddler after bath time.


Confession time.


I wrote the above during the sermon at church yesterday. That is exactly how crunchy my soul feels right now.  My mind was buzzing so badly that it wouldn't even let my soul hear the words of encouragement for which it is desperate.  I'm just thankful we live in the digital age and I can go back and listen to the sermon when my spirit isn't so noisy.


So Romans 8: 22-25 is very accurate in my life right now:

We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies.  For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.

I've got the groaning part down.  But the hoping and the patience?  Still working on that part.