On Sanctification

If you are anything like me, the same sins repeatedly rear their ugly heads.  I mess up.  I get frustrated, I confess and ask for forgiveness, I move on, only to feel like it is Groundhog Day a couple of days (or hours) later.  I begin to feel the weight of Satan's lies, telling me that I cannot change.

One day, though, I stumbled across this little beauty, and I was reminded of the gradual process that sanctification is.  I'm a broken man, who, despite good intentions, continue to practice patterns.  I no longer enjoy the sin.  No longer is my sorrow due to consequences or my own standards, but because I have grieved the one who loved me enough to die for me.  So, I suppose some progress is being made.  It's just hard for the pessimist in me to see it.  But The Show Ponies lent a hand.  They pain a beautiful image of us, the flawed, imperfect bride of Christ, as so much of our life is driven by fear of how other people perceive us.  We know that as believers, we are supposed to shine a light, show the joy within us, and all of that, but often it comes at the price of being genuine (it is possible to show a light within us without producing fake happiness, but that is a whole other topic).  Instead, we are not genuine, and we try to hide our brokenness from those around us.  We are saved, for there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ, but we repeatedly return to the habits born of sinful flesh.  And, typically, we pretend it didn't happen, or excuse ourselves.  We don't want to admit our habits and investments have damaged us.    But with every little decision that leads to choosing Jesus over ANYTHING, we draw nearer and nearer to the day that we realize that whatever held us no longer does.  The patterns we've created will no longer be appealing (though it may still be some time before we break free of them), and whatever identity we held apart from a follower of Christ will lose its value.  As we head on toward eternity, we come more and more to resemble the bride we are called to be.  We can't afford, on our own, to fix the damage.  But we belong to the one who can.

I Regress - The Show Ponies

So I tried to do my best
In a tattered wedding dress
And I'm telling you I'm blessed
But reluctant to confess
That I regress
I regress

And I'm telling you I'm saved
But still hold on to those days
While pretending I'm unscathed
I still sing the same refrain
But I regress
I regress

So I'm waiting on the words
That will make me want to turn
Against the patterns I have learned
Against the patterns I have earned
But I regress
I regress
I regress
I regress

As we're headed to that place
That dress gets whiter every day
Mend the tears and sew the lace
Calm my fears and show me grace
Or I regress
I regress
I regress
I regress

Grant me, Lord, What I can't afford
To be made right, to be restored
Take not thy spirit from my chest
Or I regress Lord I regress

Grant me Lord, what I can't afford
To be made right, to be restored
Take not thy spirit from my chest
Or I regress Lord I regress

Grant me Lord what I can't afford
To be made right, to be restored
Take not they spirit from my chest
Or I regress Lord I regress

Oh, draw me near, or I regress