For this assignment, I was tasked with writing my story in 200 words or less as well as writing a monologue. They are as follows:
My Story: Though I grew up in a Christian home, attended Church and did the “right things,” I was always striving for salvation and striving for salvation, even though it was a free gift that Christ was offering me. Before, I was striving and working for something unattainable; now, I am chosen. Even though I grew up attending Church, I still failed. I still found myself constantly sinning and never good enough. I don’t know if you are trying to be perfect in your own life, if you think that what you do can take you to Heaven or a “happy hunting ground,” but I did. Now, I rest in the fact that God has chosen me so that I can rest instead of striving.
[To be performed as a monologue at a table with an empty chair where the other person would be sitting.]
Saskatchewan has the best mud! Did you know that they actually have “mud farms” where they gather the Sask mud and ship it out to ball parks for pitchers to get the baseball ready with? It’s sticky, and the perfect color and just great! My first year up there for school, my buddy and I decided to take my little pickup out and go “mud bogging” before we headed to town (as much “mud bogging” as we could in a rear-wheel-drive rig with highway tires on, that is). Before we even left the parking lot, we found a nice big puddle and we decided to give it a whirl. I backed into the middle of it, pushed in the clutch, popped it into gear and floored it! If I didn’t sink down into that Sask mud almost to the axle right away! I simply could not get anywhere but deeper in the mud.
What was that?
Oh, yeah. I have felt like I’ve simply been spinning my tires before.
It is a frustrating feeling, you’re simply stuck. You know that you want to go, you known where you want to go, just can’t get there.
If I’m honest with you, I’d say that I’ve felt this most often in regards to being a Christian. I mean, you know I grew up going to Church, but that kind of was the problem. I went to Church every Sunday, went to Church most Wednesdays, but I was still the same. I was just a rotten person. I still looked at girls inappropriately; I still lied to keep out of trouble. Sure I didn’t cuss like the other kids and I didn’t smoke, drink or mess around with the girls, but I still knew how rotten I really was, even though I went to Church, sang the songs and prayed the prayers. It didn’t keep me from being rotten; it only showed me that I wanted to move. I wanted to get out of the mud. You see, to be out of the mud meant freedom. It meant this relationship with Jesus that was beyond what I was experiencing. It meant being as holy as so-n-so or as good at praying as Pastor Whatever. The problem was that I was still in the mud. So I started spinning my tires.
I found myself trying and striving and working hard to have that freedom, to be out of the mud and on the road to spiritual greatness where everyone would simply bask in my expositional prayers and revel in my Scripture readings! So I worked at it. I did the basic, fundamental first step: I accepted Jesus into my heart. I earnestly longed for Him and prayed the “sinner’s prayer” where I admitted my guilt, I confessed my sinfulness and how I was stuck in the mud. But I still sinned, so I raised my hand every time the pastor asked if anyone wanted to accept Jesus in their hearts, I think they simply stopped counting my hand raised after a while. I tried even harder to be a good person and said even fewer bad words than before. But my head still thought them, and people were not marveling at my shining aura of goodness. I tried to read my Bible and pray every day. I figured that if I missed a day, then I would have to read double the next. I would say long, drawn out prayers to close group meetings or prayer times, trying hard not to fall asleep as I assaulted the Heavens with high and lofty gibberish. Even though I sounded holy (I could sound holy to anyone on Earth), I knew that my relationship with God was still weak. I still was lacking what really mattered. I missed the point that I couldn’t get myself out of the mud, I was just flinging more.
When I had my truck REALLY stuck, I had to admit defeat and have my buddy pull me out. Of course I had to be the one crawling around in the mud to attach the tow rope, and now that I think about it, it shows me how I would try to do everything I could to achieve holiness, when all I really needed to do was get in the mud and ask for help. You see, God chose me; I simply needed to respond to Him. I Corinthians 6 says: “You are not your own, for you were bought with a price.” It isn’t me that has done anything to save myself at all; I was purchased and the item purchased doesn’t have a choice on being purchased or not. Jesus paid for me by dying on the cross. Isaiah 41 says: “You are my servant, I have chosen you and not cast you off.” You see, it wasn’t just a purchase, it was a choice, God chose to let His Son die because He chose me to live. Not only was I bought, not only was I chosen, but it is that purchase, that choice that saves me and the only thing I can do about it is get in the mud and put on the tow rope, which I had done over and over again (though I only needed one time) when I accepted Christ into my life, prayed the prayer and asked Christ to be my Savior. His death was the price required to save me and He pulled me out of the mud. From that point, I could rest in II Corinthians 5: “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new one has come.” Similarly, Galatians 2 says: “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” Before, I was striving and working for something unattainable; now, I am chosen.
You know, you were bought with a price too. God sent His Son to die for your sins as well…
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