Crucified With Christ
I have felt the urge to share something deeply personal, something that's been stirring in my heart and reshaping my perspective in profound ways. This isn't just another post; it's a confession, a revelation, and a plea rolled into one. I've titled this entry "Crucified in Christ?" and I hope, as you read through, you'll sense the earnestness with which I write and the journey I've been on.
This past week has been unlike any other. It's one of those times when you encounter God so vividly that it cuts right to the core of who you are. This encounter has led me to a message I feel compelled to share, one that I've been wrestling with, and one that has challenged me deeply. It's about truth—speaking it and living it, especially when it's hard. It's about love—the kind of love that compels us to speak the hard truths, first to ourselves and then to others.
A few weeks back, a friend recommended a book to me, one that he claimed would bring me to my knees in repentance with every chapter. Honestly, I brushed it off at the time. I'm more of an audiobook guy, and my reading list is embarrassingly backed up as it is. But as I was driving to Young Harris one Friday morning, something changed. I felt an unmistakable nudge from the Lord to download and listen to that book during the drive. Reluctantly, I did, and I haven't been the same since.
The book, written by Leonard Ravenhill in 1959, is called "Why Revival Tarries." It's not the author's fame or the novelty of his ideas that gripped me; it was the power of God speaking through his words, drawing me back to Scripture, back to a confrontation with my own faith and the reality of the Church today.
Ravenhill's message is simple yet revolutionary: the Church lacks the fervency in prayer, the depth in suffering with Christ, and the total surrender that marks true discipleship. As I absorbed his words, I was confronted with the reality of my own spiritual walk. Have I been living as if I've been crucified with Christ, or am I merely going through the motions? This question haunted me, challenging the very foundation of my faith.
As your friend, and someone who cares deeply about the journey we're all on, I want to share this unsettling yet transformative truth: revival begins with us. It starts when we decide to live fully for God, to let Christ's life manifest in ours, and to pursue nothing less than a total surrender to Him.
Galatians 2:20 has been ringing in my ears: "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." This verse, and the journey it has sparked in me, challenges us to ask ourselves whether we can say the same. Is our life a reflection of Christ living within us?
In my moments of reflection, I realized that much of what hinders our relationship with God isn't external—it's within us. Our comfort-loving, self-preserving nature stands in stark contrast to the call to take up our cross and follow Jesus. It's a daily battle, one that requires constant surrender and a willingness to be led by the Spirit, even when it takes us out of our comfort zones.
This journey isn't easy. It's filled with challenges, with moments of doubt, and with the pain of letting go. But it's also filled with unspeakable joy, peace that surpasses understanding, and the hope of glory. As I stand at this crossroad, I'm reminded of Paul's words in Philippians 3:13-14, "But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."
So, I invite you to join me on this journey. Let's dare to ask the hard questions of ourselves, to confront the comfortable patterns of our faith, and to seek a deeper, more authentic walk with God. Let's be the kind of believers who live crucified lives, lives that testify to the power and presence of Christ in us. Together, let's press on, not just in the hope of revival, but as carriers of it, in our hearts, in our homes, and in our communities.
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