What a day. Someone criticized me for trying to help a lady in need. His words
stung like daggers in an open wound, ripping through my soul, grinding into dust
what tiny bit of self-confidence I might have possessed. I was angry, I was
hurt, and as the day progressed, I slipped deeper and deeper into depression. I
knew that relief would only come by turning my feelings over to God. I even
tried to do so once or twice during the day, but some vicious part of me refused
to let go. After all, I had a right to feel angry and hurt. What he did to me
was wrong! My motives were nothing but the purest! I didn’t deserve to be
treated this way! And on through the day I went, wallowing ever deeper in the
mire of anger and hurt, knowing I should forgive and forget, but somehow not
wanting to.
It was evening before I finally realized I needed help. In the quietness of the
house, after the family had gone to bed, I got out my journal and began to
write: “Dearest Lord Jesus, I’m in a terrible state. I am allowing the evils of
self-pity, hurt, depression, and rejection to play havoc with me. I know what I
must do, but some cruel part of me won’t let go. I know You can and will help
me, but somehow I am turning my back on Your help. Satan knows exactly how to
push my buttons, and he’s pushed them! All of them! And I’m letting him do it.
Lord, I don’t want to do this anymore! I want You in charge! Lord, You must sit
in the driver’s seat! You must be my guiding force, for without You, I am a
helpless creature.”
As I was writing, the sweet voice of my Lord and Savior—the same one that had
been trying to reach me all day—called out: “My child, look away from yourself.
Look up!”
I did, and there was Jesus, carrying His cross to Calvary. I watched, transfixed
in horror as he humbly lay down upon that cross. I saw them drive those brutal
nails in his outstretched hands. And over the sound of the hammer, I could hear
a woman crying out: “What they’re doing is wrong.” My gaze shifted to the
speaker, a woman. Was it Mary? I couldn’t tell. “His motives were nothing but
the purest!” she called as they forced the heavy cross into the ground. The
guards were gambling for his clothing when the voice cried, “He doesn’t deserve
to be treated this way!” Then Jesus, with agonizing effort, turned and looked
directly at me: “I’m doing this for you,” he said. “Go and sin no more!”
Then the scene was gone, and instead of the tormented whisper of my Lord and
Savior, I could hear the evil voices that had been a part of me all day, “Jesus
has no idea just how badly you have been hurt. He’s the one who deserves to be
punished, not you. You didn’t do anything wrong!”
And, as if in response, the quiet voice of my Lord spoke in the back of my mind,
“But how is it to your credit if you receive a beating for doing wrong and
endure it? But if you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is
commendable before God. To this you were called, because [I] suffered for you,
leaving you an example, that you should follow in [my] steps.” (1 Peter
2:20-21).
Tears formed in my eyes as I whispered the words aloud: “But if you suffer for
doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God . . . Because
Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his
steps.”
Slowly, ever so slowly, the loud voices that had been taunting me all day, faded
into nothingness. The weight that I had been carrying slipped away, and in its
place reigned peace and joy. For the first time all day, I smiled!
LORD, HELP ME TO FOLLOW IN YOUR STEPS!
By Lyn Chaffart
The Illustrator: This daily newsletter is dedicated to encouraging
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The Nugget: Published three times a week, this newsletter features inspirational devotionals and mini-sermons dedicated to drawing mankind closer to each other and to Christ.