Post by Ryan Thames on Jan 8, 2006 3:23:29 GMT -5
CHRIST IN ME - - - - -
by Max Lucado
Like Mary, you and I are indwelt by Christ.
Find that hard to believe? How much more did Mary? No one was more
surprised by this miracle than she was. And no one more passive than
she was. God did everything. Mary didn't volunteer to help. What
did she have to offer? She offered no assistance.
And she offered no resistance. Instead she said, Behold, the bond-
slave of the Lord; may it be done to me according to your word (Luke
1:38).
Unlike Mary, we tend to assist God, assuming our part is as important
as his. Or we resist, thinking we are too bad or too busy. Yet when
we assist or resist, we miss God's great grace. We miss out on the
reason we were placed on earth-to be so pregnant with heaven's child
that he lives through us. To be so full of him that we could say
with Paul, "It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in
me." (Gal. 2:20)
What would that be like? To have a child within is a miracle, but to
have Christ within?
To have my voice, but him speaking.
My steps, but Christ leading.
My heart, but his love beating
in me, through me, with me.
What's it like to have Christ on the inside?
To tap his strength when mine expires
or feel the force of heaven's fires
raging, purging wrong desires.
Could Christ become my self entire?
So much him, so little me
That in my eyes it's him they see.
What's it like to a Mary be?
No longer I, but Christ in me.
by Max Lucado
Like Mary, you and I are indwelt by Christ.
Find that hard to believe? How much more did Mary? No one was more
surprised by this miracle than she was. And no one more passive than
she was. God did everything. Mary didn't volunteer to help. What
did she have to offer? She offered no assistance.
And she offered no resistance. Instead she said, Behold, the bond-
slave of the Lord; may it be done to me according to your word (Luke
1:38).
Unlike Mary, we tend to assist God, assuming our part is as important
as his. Or we resist, thinking we are too bad or too busy. Yet when
we assist or resist, we miss God's great grace. We miss out on the
reason we were placed on earth-to be so pregnant with heaven's child
that he lives through us. To be so full of him that we could say
with Paul, "It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in
me." (Gal. 2:20)
What would that be like? To have a child within is a miracle, but to
have Christ within?
To have my voice, but him speaking.
My steps, but Christ leading.
My heart, but his love beating
in me, through me, with me.
What's it like to have Christ on the inside?
To tap his strength when mine expires
or feel the force of heaven's fires
raging, purging wrong desires.
Could Christ become my self entire?
So much him, so little me
That in my eyes it's him they see.
What's it like to a Mary be?
No longer I, but Christ in me.
