Uncomfortable Comfort

This past Sunday our new pastor preached his first sermon to our church family. We listened. I listened. Maybe better than I have in a long while. Then, he got to the last point. And while everyone was laughing, I began crying. He was talking about the importance of serving. Then, he gave an example that was supposed to be a little humorous - while still true - to illustrate how we really feel about serving most of the time. It went something like this: we all want to be known as humble servants...until someone treats us like a humble servant. STAB. Through my heart.

You see, this past week has exposed a lot of sin in my life. I've been impatient, unloving, bitter, ungrateful, unwilling, complaining...and on and on and on. And it's actually come out and bitten a few people in my way. I blamed it on being mistreated, misunderstood, misused. So, when our pastor said those words, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Straight up convicted to the core right there on the spot.

It hurt. I was ashamed. I was sorrowful. It was not fun. And yet...

How comforting it was to know that God is still working on me. He's not far away. He's not absent. He's not given up on me. He is near. He is working. He is changing me. He is doing me good by disciplining me. He is gently exposing my flesh so that I can tear more of it away to reveal the new creature that I am.

I am so grateful for this uncomfortable comfort. Just when I needed the hand of my Father to reach down and do something in my life, He did...with much grace.