It’s not like this all the time, but it happens. Does this happen to you too?

The frustration hits. Or maybe fatigue. Other times it’s fear. Maybe I’m just not strong enough.

Maybe my faith is too weak.

What do you do then? Where do you go?

Sometimes I feel it. Maybe my life is going well, or maybe not so well. But something else rears its ugly head. An uneasiness. Overwhelm. Or maybe I just feel down.

And why not? How can I ignore the things I see, hear, and feel all around me? Too much information? Or simply too much pain?

And so I’m tempted to shut down. Just curl up into a ball and hide.

But I resist this temptation. We all do. We might not even know we’re doing it, but we resist.

The human spirit is incredibly resilient. We are truly marvelous creatures.

We can resist for years. Decades even. A lifetime.

But sometimes, after a while, things break down. Cracks appear in the wall.

And you begin to see behind all that toughness and resolve. The child inside.

The pressure grows. The assault against you intensifies.

Maybe it’s one big hit or a relentless shower of aggression. Maybe you even sabotage yourself. You are your own Judas.

And the walls come crumbling down. All that is left is the inner child, exposed and vulnerable.

Then the world moves in, ready to devour you.

And almost as an instinct of hope, you recall a hidden promise, long ago whispered, and you remember somehow. How could you have possibly forgotten? 

And I ask myself, 

Do I remember who I am?

By my baptism, by his blood.

I return to my core.

It’s that deep embedded place. A place that’s been packed down solid three times over. It’s your essence, your true being.

You are a child of God.

It’s the Kingship of Christ in you.

So you fall back to this place as the sharp-toothed hounds move in. You fall back into his arms.

This is the diamond place. 

Nothing more solid. Nothing more secure. The place where martyrs fly straight to God. The place where a vulnerable child takes down giants and drives out the hounds of hell.

This is a spacious place. 

A place of great possibility and even greater love. A place where shame and failure are swept aside by the overflowing grace of our Lord.

By his Kingship, I inherit sonship.

And in that kernel of hope, I rediscover my faith. I never lost it. I just depended on myself a bit too long. 

I remember again how strong and safe that place is. Not because of anything I did. But because in the core of my being the Spirit lives.

It’s pure, sweet mercy.

And even though it hurts, even though I might be afraid or exhausted sometimes… I am alive. I can return. I can step up and bounce back.

And God asks me,

Do you remember who I am?

Yes Lord.

You are my Father.

You gave me your Son. 

Chirst is my King.

Let his Spirit set you free and give you supernatural resilience. 

From there you can face this day and age with confidence. 

You can trust and love again. 

You can smile and laugh.

As his joy comes rushing in.

Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

1 Peter 1:8-9

Never miss a post. Follow Third Millennium Man.

Please support my writing.

2 Replies to “Kingship”

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s