I'm glad I'm not in control

Since football season's over (and getting uglier in the Rockies), and the tournament hasn't started yet, Lindsay has taken over the remote. No no, it's fine, you have to pick your battles and that one ain't worth fighting. Anyway, we're watching "The Biggest Loser" last night. There are two teams and they go through these series of challenges. The team that wins a particular challenge gets some sort of reward. This episode's reward was "24 hours of luxury". Spa, hot tub, massage, decadent food, all inclusive drinks, everything you could want and more. This was, I think, the 7th or so week of the show. And these men and women, and one boy, have been just knocking themselves out. The physical and emotional work they're doing to lose this weight is nothing short of inspiring. And that's not even a struggle of mine and it inspires me. Anyway, the team that won this challenge, that won the 24 hours of luxury, had won the last several challenges. They were losing the more weight more consistently than the other team. They were getting a little cocky. Nevermind, they were very cocky. Seven days a week, several hours each day, they dedicated their minds, bodies and hearts to the focus of whatever it takes to lose this weight. For someone to get to the point they go on this show, that's a life change. It's not just a diet. So this team was winning these challenges partly because they were working harder than the other team, more dedicated. And then they win this "getaway". You can see what's coming. They get to this resort and it's on. They gorge on buffet style food, just get trashed on alcohol, liquor, chicken fingers and fries for desert, and lay around getting pampered all day. It was the same gluttony that landed them on this show. They get rewarded with their hard work with one day of freedom, and what do they do with it? Practically erase everything that earned them the day of freedom in the first place.
Your first reaction is probably something like, "How could they? After all that effort, they just throw it away? They'd been given a gift, and just forget everything it took to get them there." Any idea where I'm going next?
I got saved November of 1999. After all the work, all the dedication -- the love -- Christ displayed to grant me freedom, you would think in the 9 1/2 years since, I would've taken the gift of eternal life -- of freedom -- and treated it preciously and carefully. Sometimes sure. But I can't tell you how many times I've been given a sliver of freedom, and washed it away with gluttony. Maybe not with food blowing a diet regiment, but metaphorically absolutely. I've done the exact same thing time and time again in my spiritual life that these contestants did last night. No better, no worse. I have given into myself, my flesh, because to paraphrase the people on the show last night, "Oh well, it's just this once. I've been so good lately, what could it hurt? I deserve this little bit!"
The contestants come back to the "ranch" and their trainer is devestated. She feels betrayed. "Why should I care so much if this is how you're going to treat it. Why do I care if you guys don't care? I give up." And that's where the parallels between "The Biggest Loser" and my walk with God stop. I'm sure He's felt devestated, betrayed. But not once, not one single time have I been met with a "Why do I care if you don't? I give up."
Paul Young, author of "The Shack" spoke at my church once. While he was speaking he read a letter he got one time. The writer of the letter talked about a struggle with addiction. And how each time he failed he expected God to get fed up with him and turn away. Instead, according the guy in the letter, he would hear, "Only 50 more times. Only 50 more times before you go flying face first into the mirror, before you cut this crap out."
I've been given 24 hours of luxury before. I've been given a much more grand doses of freedom. I've botched it several times just like those people on "Biggest Loser" did last night. But somehow God knows just how much freedom to give me. Just the right amount where I can step off the ledge, without falling fifty feet to the rocky river below. I'm thankful that He knows me that well. I'm thankful that He lets me peer over the side but never lets me fall. If it were up to me, I would've been part of the landscape a long time ago. I'm exhausting the metaphor but the point is, as long as He controls my heart, my mind, my words, my actions, my thoughts, then it's freedom I'll enjoy. As soon as I take over, it's a long hard fall.