I recently heard someone talk about his struggle with living in complete obscurity. If no one knew what he was doing or where he was doing it, (except God) would that be enough for him? We all like to hide our unpleasantries, but what if no one knew about anything good we ever did?
At first it's noble to say we don't care what anyone thinks. We don't "let our left hand know what our right hand is doing" anyway, but what if it's more subtle. The vague accomplishments of our day. We check off a to-do list like it's an olympic sport. Or maybe it's subtle contentment (or lack thereof) when we've taken too much time in front of the mirror. Perhaps it's just a struggle with wanting constant affirmation from a socially-connected world. These subtle hubrises pile onto us like a mountain of sand, constricting any forward motion.
We are stuck in a cycle of self-awareness. Our identity, then, exists inwardly, in what we do, in who we are, or in how much we influence-- Fortunately and unfortunately, we humans are dangerously unstable-- born imperfect and always changing. Self is never subtle.
"If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off." (Matthew 5:30) I probably need more maiming in my hunt for contentment. My once-fractured wrist was just the tip of the iceberg, notifying me of subtle pride. I can't always find evidence of my purpose, but I am always peaceful if I look to God for affirmation.
The true character of the loveliness that counts for God is always unconscious. Conscious influence is smug and self-righteous and unchristian. If I start looking for evidence of my own usefulness, I instantly lose the bloom of the Lord’s touch.
To enter a secret silence is to deliberately shut the door on emotions and anxieties and open the door to God. God sees us in the secret place. He does not see us as other people see us, nor as we see ourselves. When we live in the secret place, it becomes impossible for us to doubt him. We become more certain of him than of anything else. (Oswald Chambers, Utmost for His Highest, Aug. 21 & 23)
We have become more and more certain of God's evidence on the road, meeting our needs medically, as well as physically and emotionally. He has stepped in more than once in our daily lives as we face various challenges, including abruptly stopping three men from stealing our truck in Montreal. There's no denying His calculations even when they don't add up to ours.
We meet new people every week, but we become more anonymous the longer we roam without roots. I never realized how much I wanted people to recognize me until no one did. But anonymity is an under-valued goal, currently reserved for silent auctions, secret crushes, and the occasional deep-pocket donors. We might admire these obscure angels, but are we willing to live in total obscurity? Living anonymous lives gives us the chance to be distinguished only by our aroma--the aroma found in Jesus (2 Cor. 2:15-17). When we meet others with this distinction, we realize our "people" exist all over the world.
--Subtly Careful & Careless
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