A Take on the Heart
The heart is a funny and mysterious litle thing. It’s devious, wicked, and deceitful. But it is also where the Holy Spirit dwells and abides. Our fleshly nature makes it evil, yet our rebirth in Christ renews it and makes it holy and perfect.
(Un) Fortunately, it’s invisible, too. Despite the famous saying, “Some people wear their hearts on their sleeves,” no one can really know for sure what’s inside someone’s heart; why they do certain things, what their roots and pasts have to do with their character and behaviour. We ourselves, sometimes, are not completely aware of our motives and the depths of our hearts. Only God does.
Today, that one little fact humbled me for the n-th time (like seriously, I’ve lost count). I was shown that I too still have the tendency to look for someone else’s faults sometimes; trying to pin the mistake on them instead of asking God to test my motives, still trying to seek for my own righteousness instead of just coming clean and beg for mercy.
Having people wrong us, hurt us, misunderstand us, take advantage of us, is just a part of life. None of us can build up walls high enough to protect ourselves from pain. And as I grow older, I realize that asking for reason, explanation, or closure from other human beings won’t ever give us the peace that we truly need. Whatever reason they try to come up with, whether I realize it or not, I will end up judging them for it; blaming them for being rude, concluding that they’re not mature enough, or deciding that I don’t want anything to do with them anymore. I will never know their truest reason, because I will never know their deepest heart. And I learned that it’s okay. It’s not my job to do either of those things. It’s not my right to do either of those things.
I learned that if God thinks it is necessary for me to know, then He will reveal it, the good and the bad, so I can see His hands guiding and protecting me. And if He thinks it is good for me to experience certain things, He will allow it, so I can learn and be humbled. None of these is because I am better than those who hurt me, but simply grace.
I am a sinful person, in constant need of a Saviour. And my right is to own up to my own heart, to my own life, not anyone else’s. Because at the end of ages, it is my life that I will have to take responsibility for in front of the Great Judge.
The best thing that I can keep doing, I think, is to learn to give grace and mercy, just like it’s given to me daily. To give the benefit of the doubt. To ask to be humbled and taught, daily, to love them as I am loved. To ask to keep being reminded that they too are flesh and bones like me, beggars like me, in need of a Saviour — like me.
