I say things because I am deeply passionate and fiercely convicted. I say things because I want someone to say them and sometimes no one else is. I say them because I want respect. I say them because I value truth and sometimes I say them because I know if I say them, then I will do them.
I said something the other night, said it quickly, fiercely. But today the conviction I felt then feels far from me. I want to weasel out of something, be non-committal, give the for-instances and in-this-cases. I want to excuse the circumstances because, well, this time, they're different, see?
I didn't read a lot of the bible growing up, but I remember hearing the story of an oathmaker in the Old Testament, a man who promised to sacrifice the first-fruit of his home if God would be on his side for a small thing like war or something. He imagined the bloodshed would be a chicken, I'm sure, at the very worst a goat, perhaps a sheep. But when his daughter, his own flesh and blood, walked out the door upon his homecoming, Jephthah regretted that oath.
But he still carried it through.
It's barbaric to us, see. And I still wrestle with the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Jephthah. I wrestle over a sincere oath with barbaric consequences.
God's not asking that of me. I know that. He's not really asking anything of me. We're the children of the new covenant, set free to do what is lawful and profitable.
But He is asking me to be a person of my yeses. To say it because I mean it, but to really, deep down, fully grasp the meaning before I say it at all.
Because something is getting sacrificed.
Some part of me or some action of mine. Some desire or some need. Some thing is going to be tried and true and tested and walk out that door before I can catch it, send it back. Walk out my mouth before I can catch, send it back.
I want to be a person of my word. But moreso, I want to be a person of the Word.
be acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer.