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Naked at Church

So there was this one time when I took off all my clothes at church. Ok, that's not quite accurate. I did take off my coat, shirt, tie, shoes, socks, and yes, my pants. I did have on shorts and a ratty t-shirt underneath. I was making the point that all our righteous acts are like filthy rags. My pastor told me to do it. Why would I tell my pastor no? You really should have seen the look on people's faces when I reached for my belt and started to take off my pants. That image will forever be etched in my mind, which is probably better than the image etched in their minds of a stripping pastor.

I bring all this up because I am starting to feel naked again. Except this time it's not with clothing. This time it is my soul which is being bared for everyone to see. I'm fighting hard, going back and forth between two desires. The one pulls at me to keep it together. The other longs to take off all the exterior, which means very little anyway.

This morning I read from 1 Timothy 6:11-12. Paul had been telling Timothy to avoid going after money and fame and power, all the usual trappings. In fact, Timothy was told to run. This wasn't a casual warning to avoid some missteps. This was a frantic admonition to flee sin. And then Timothy was told to run after eternal life.

So I think this is where I am at, needing to run hard and fast in the direction God is calling me to. Come run with me. I may grow tired and sweaty along the way. It will be nice to have the company.
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