Thursday, July 11, 2013

done with me.

I’m kind of done with being Liza.

Don’t get wrong – this is not a pity party. It’s anything BUT a pity party.

The past weeks, I have felt my identity being stripped away. Everything I’ve put my confidence in, every talent I prided myself in having – all of it has been revealed for what it is: filthy rags in the Presence of God. In other news, I’m having what the world would call an identity crisis. Basically, I’ve given up who I am “supposed” to be in order to become what I OUGHT to be – the image bearer of Christ, reflecting Him in every word and every action of everyday.

As each days passes, I find myself grower smaller. Wanting to become smaller. The rather famous quote of John of the Baptist – “He must increase, I must decrease”….I want Him to increase so much that there is NOTHING of me left.

My only desire to be an instrument, a tool in His hands.

Right now, people can use a whole slew of adjectives to describe me. You’ve heard them, actually, you’ve probably used them. Liza Morales can be described as a musical theatre nerd, an actress, a singer, a teacher, a pianist, a blogger, a big sister, a daughter, a tweeter, a member of Jefferson Park Baptist, a seamstress, a costumer, a sign language interpreter, southern, Virginian, political, American, crazy, outgoing, etc. You get the picture.

But guess what? I don’t want those titles any more. I don’t want any of them. [see Philippians 3:4-11]

It’s not that it’s bad to have those things as part of my life…but am I DEFINED by them?

All I want is Jesus.

That’s it.

We’ve been reading through C.T. Studd – Cricketer and Pioneer by Norman Grubb. This week, we read the chapter on Priscilla Stewart – Charlie Studd’s wife. This is the letter he wrote home to his mother, describing his new fiancé:
I suppose you want to know about her. Well, to tell you the truth, I can’t tell you much except about her spiritual life and her life before the world; I don’t even know her age, but guess she is some years my junior, don’t know though. She ain’t very big, and as regards her face, well, she has the beauty of the Lord her God upon her, which is worth more than all the beauty of the whole world. She write a very good letter, all about Jesus, and naturally a big hand except when she has a lot to say; and she can run up and down stairs a tremendous pace; she can also play harmonium or organ and sing a bit, but her voice wasn’t wonderful in Shanghai. She’s very fond of the Salvation Army hymns (so am I), and of the Salvation Army too (so am I), and she doesn’t fear the face of man or woman a little bit, I do believe; but just fires away at everybody she meets about their souls. I haven’t got a photo of her at all, so I cannot give you even a guess at what she is like; probably Georgie is a better hand at such descriptions and will be able to satisfy your curiosity. Oh! I know one thing more; her name is Priscilla Livingstone Stewart, and she calls herself “Scilla” (rum name, ain’t it?). Why not “Pris,” I don’t understand, but then she’s “Oirish.” - from C.T. Studd, Cricketer and Pioneer by Norman Grubb

What a letter! What a description!

And what conviction.

I’m done being defined by what I can do, and how I look. When my future husband - or ANYONE - tries to describe me to HIS mother, I want it to sound like Charlie’s letter. Is my life right now most easily described in terms of Jesus Christ? Not really.

My lunch-table-mate Stewart shared this insight into that particular letter – “I know how mind-blowing it must be for you girls. But think, from a man’s perspective, being a man’s body – it’s even more. Just think about what visual beings we are.”

I was floored. Charlie Studd, a man like everyone else, couldn’t even describe his own fiancé’s physical appearance because she positively RADIATED Christ, and he saw Him instead.

I repeat: what conviction.

But here’s the beauty of it all – now that I’ve been convicted of my life of self-promotion, I don’t have wallow in self-pity and misery with no way out. I have the Gift of God at my disposal – Christ Jesus Himself, and His abundant grace.

I can live the impossible life because Christ lives in me!

And all of a sudden, that “impossible” life, seems rather possible. Because it is no longer I who live, but Christ who dwells in me.

So THAT’S why I’m done being Liza. I’m done being about me, and I’m all about HIM.

1 comment:

  1. Oh Liza! Your last few posts have been SO encouraging. These same thoughts have been in my mind recently and then I read your posts. This is beautiful. Thank you for letting His light shine through you. After God rebuilds your ship (bigger and better than you can think or imagine!) he has so many wonderful adventures for you, so many foreign ports to use you in.
    Take heart!