On medication

This morning, I felt critical of someone whose conversation is entirely wrapped around themselves. In my not so humble opinion, they needed to quit complaining and take a good look at Jesus Christ. Who can think of “me, me, me” with such a wonder to consider as the God who became man!

This afternoon, I felt weak and dizzy, not wanting to finish my chores. My thoughts became entirely wrapped around my needs and me. Was God laughing? Maybe, because He quickly reminded me that I need to take a big dose of my own medicine. Tonight’s devotional reading says, 

And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart. And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them. (Luke 2:18–20)

Once more I am rebuked. Spurgeon writes decades ago, yet his words cut to the heart. Instead of pointing fingers and instead of feeling sorry for myself, I also need a deeper look at Jesus Christ.

Selfish thinking puts a damper on the marvels of God, yet when He fills my mind, I cannot make a distinction between “holy wonder and real worship.” When my thoughts are overwhelmed with His majesty, I may not express this in song, or even prayer, yet this is silent and absolute adoration.

How wonderful that God should consider me, a fallen creature. He could have swept me away in judgment. Instead, He took it upon Himself to be my Redeemer and to pay my ransom price. Because of Jesus, I am set free from the penalty and bondage of sin.

This is a miracle of grace. Jesus left His throne and royalty above and suffered here on earth for me. This fills my heart with head-shaking wonder. And as Spurgeon says, wonder is a practical emotion.

Wonder leads me to gratitude and worship. It produces in me a diligent desire to never sin against this One who loves me so much. It makes me feel as if I am standing on Holy ground. It gives me great hope. It takes my mind off me.

Because Jesus has done so much for me already, I know that heaven and eternity with Him is a future reality. He died for me. He lives forever to intercede for me. One day I will see Him and be like Him, for this is His promise to me. Jesus did this. He is amazing.

Spurgeon asks, “Who can be astonished at anything, when he has once been astonished at the manger and the cross? What is there wonderful left after one has seen the Savior?”

He is so right. I cannot be perfect, but I can look at Jesus. Seeing Him and loving Him takes my mind off the “light momentary affliction” of this day. He gives me a glimpse of the eternal. I imagine His face with a broad smile. He even laughs — because this prescription that I thought was my idea is actually just what He, the Great Physician ordered.