(Here is Ethne who will be 2 next month, but she's already acting the part.)
No one had to tell Ethne about the terrible twos. She instinctively went from ready-to-please, to please-myself overnight. I’d blame this on the first onslaught of female hormones except I remember my boys we’re just as independent beyond their experience as my girls. With Ethne this is showing itself in declarations of, “I don’t want to,” and “No.” Make that, “No!”
This urge to be independent is good and bad. We don’t want children who are still clinging to us when they should be clinging to a soul mate. Still, on a Spiritual level, there is really no such independence. Interdependence with others of faith and total dependence on Jesus is the only way to true freedom for those of us who are bond slaves to the Perfect Master.
But this means, dying to myself. Here I am again, thinking of what it means to take up my cross. Not to wade miserably through life, bearing a mantle of self-pity, sorrow or suffering, but crucifying self and selfish desires every day. This is my cross, to say ‘no ‘to self. This is the same self that first emerged about the time I turned two and has been demanding her own way ever since.
This requires admitting and remembering that without Him I am nothing. It sounds simple and I think my mind has agreed with this vague image for many years. Now I’m discovering how desperate this makes me. Not only knowing I can’t do anything alone, but continually going to the Source of my strength. Taking the time to be fed of Him, to eat my daily bread, to be nourished so I can face the next moment. It’s knowing that I can not breathe without Him. I can not obey without Him. I can not walk in the Spirit unless He enables me. So maybe being a mature Christian is more like an embryo than a strong individual. More like dust than like gold. More like Jesus than like me.
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