Mmmm, guilt.

Jerri to Joyce: are you wearing that?

I feel guilty most of the time. I have this idol in my head of "perfect Leah," she looks kinda like Jesus and kinda like me; she says and does what the perfect missionary/discipler/friend/servant/daughter/etc says and does. She's hard to please. When I don't do what she wants, I whip myself and bring her the guilt offerings she requires: more props, more time, more energy. She's a--you know. Jerk. But bowing before her is as natural as the most comfortable outfit.

At our JV conference, my eyes were opened thanks to Joyce, Jerri (above) and the Holy Spirit (all around). It's so simple, you know, taking off the old nature, our "old clothes," and being clothed with Christ. Duh, right? But when you've got on, say, an ick lavender outfit (above) you've worn forever, or guilt that has been your favorite sweatshirt for years, it's hard to do without. But that week I took it off--the guilt sweatshirt that actually binds like a straight jacket--and pray that I'll keep it off.

The real Lord Jesus (not the one who looks too much like me, small and petty with a beard) came and kicked my idol away. Literally kicked it, with his big bare foot. And he said, "There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ" and gave me a new sweatshirt of righteousness. It feels great and looks much better: like peace and confidence and outward-focused love.

My hand still reaches for the old guilt, though. I put it on the other day and donned it again this morning. And took it off. And lifted my eyes higher to see the real Lord.