I AM ON A CAMPAIGN

I came crashing down off  “my pedestal” the other day. It didn’t even hurt. No broken bones, no bruised ego, no shame. I laid on the ground laughing. Me and God had a long talk about “pedestal living” after that fall.  

Frankly, I’m relieved I don’t have to live there anymore!  It took a lot of energy and was down right exhausting. You always have to be on your guard to make sure you don’t do something wrong, say something inappropriate, hurt someone feelings, afraid you haven’t loved enough, etc. If you’ve said something “truthful,” you back down and try to "soften" it.  If you ask for something, you say it really doesn't matter and end up withdrawing the request. Has anyone besides me been there?

I was so tired of living “up there” on that pillar of perfection!  It's a sham, a fantasy that doesn't exist. It's a great relief to be “grounded.” Pedestal living is not the same as living in my 11th floor apartment. It’s a very lonely place on the pedestal and there is no room to move. Not only that, I was always in fear of falling.

Does that mean I’m going to sin more? No, it means I am going to be on my knees more, confessing my faults to God and, when needed, to my brothers and sisters in Christ. 

It means not hiding behind a spiritual mask, not justifying myself or others when wrong has been done, not regretting or “second guessing” myself after I’ve made a decision.  It may sound like I have no remorse over wrong doing. The opposite is true. When I stop justifying my thoughts and actions, my sin hits me square in the face. But…

If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness  (1 John 1:9).

Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed (James 5:16).

I am on a campaign to stamp out pedestals, mine, that is.  Will I change overnight? No, of course not! It’s a process – but I took a hammer and smashed that pedestal to pieces so there’s no going back…. There’s just one problem. Sadly, I have a short memory and sometimes I may forget I don’t live on the pedestal anymore.  If you see me inching my way back up to some high perch, you have my permission to say, “Patricia, come down here!”