Ragamuffin. Prodigal Ragamuffin.

beggar-hands

I forget. It happens far too often. I shouldn’t have trouble remembering it but I do. There’s this version of me that wants to show up in front of God, with a proud smile and a bulging ego; eager to show the trinkets I bring to Him. Proof of my “worthiness”, you know. That version of me is boisterous but utterly fake. It is frequently so convincing that I almost believe it myself. And the crass thing tries to drown out the real me; the me that brings nothing worthwhile to God. A ragamuffin, a spiritual beggar.

Ragamuffin: a ragged, disreputable person; a beggar.

Which leads me to another observation. I am also:

Prodigal: extravagantly wasteful.

 

They say “beggars can’t be choosers” but apparently they can be extravagantly wasteful.

The book “Redemption: Freed by Jesus from the Idols We Worship and the Wounds We Carry” by Mike Wilkerson says human hearts are “idol factories”.  I have the equivalent of a Play-Doh Fun Factory in my heart, cranking out one idol after another. They aren’t bad things necessarily, but each one is capable of stealing my time, affection and attention. I expend those for a substitute instead of for God. It’s depressing, really.

I’m not beating myself up over it. I used to. I’ve come to understand that God – omniscient Person that He is – is not surprised by my continuous manufacturing of worthless trinkets and ideas. He wants me to be rid of the idols because they prevent me from finding my peace and joy in Him. An idol is like a really good magic trick. An illusion. A distraction from what is important, what I really am seeking.

More about that later. Today I can choose to put the “idol du jour” down, and spend the day talking and walking with God. I think He would like that. I know I will.

 

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