For quite some time, I have been learning what it can look like to live out of the creative nature of God and understand that we are God’s Masterpiece and carriers of His image and likeness. It’s this “likeness” thing that trips me up sometimes. The serpent who deceived Eve in the garden is still up to his whispering ways and is often dripping his poison in my ear, ever so gently… “don’t you think you’re a long way off from reflecting anything like The Almighty? Surely, you can’t live up to being an actual image bearer – that’s too much, right? Especially considering all of your insecurities. Have we talked about all those lately? Let me remind you…”
Were it up to me and my own righteousness, that slippery snake would have some really good points. If I ever begin to rehearse my (self-perceived?) disqualifications, or create itemized lists of character flaws, mistakes, points of shame and intellectual shortcomings, I quickly retreat from everything that requires a certain level of uprightness. In my assessment, I have a back far too crooked to support an upright stature. But, being overly aware of “MY stuff” is a sure tell that my attention has shifted away from the greatness and glory of God, because my own assessments, though maybe true, are not set in the biggest truth – He created, covered, and commissioned me for His purpose. The paramount truth is I am in His care, complete with all-knowing love, compassion and correction.
We are Poiema
The part of us that is really robbed when we travel down a road of harmful self-analyzation is our freedom. In her book, A Million Little Ways, author (and overall fantastic female teacher, leader, and human) Emily P. Freeman writes on what it means to be the art of God; the living, breathing masterpiece (poiema) of the Creator of All:
“We see…in Ephesians 2:10, where it essentially says, You are a poem written inside the person of Jesus Christ. You exist to carry out his inner desire. This is your good work. So this is our job, to carry out the inner desire of Christ. And the inner desire of Christ is to bring glory to the Father.”
Freeman, Emily P.. A Million Little Ways (p. 26). Baker Publishing Group. Kindle Edition
The imagery sparked in my mind by this verbiage of being a physical embodiment of a uniquely spoken poem, crafted on the breath of God, whose only job is to point back to the One who gave it life, has had massive impact on my soul. We are each the good work of the Almighty Father God, created in goodness, yet born into brokenness. And boy, are we ever broken. Like cracks in Great-Grandma’s china, our brokenness varies in severity; we have some fine lines, deep fractures, and probably full chips in our shiny coating. The more we notice the damage, the more insecure or ashamed we become.
Maybe this is why God so often mentions His binding character (Psalms 147:3), so we can see how He holds us together, how He mends and heals (Job 5:18; Hosea 6:1) and restores. And while He goes about His mending and binding business, we still retain our original created purpose. The brokenness never removes our inherent identity, regardless of how severe. The pain and depth of injury you experience is not dismissed or minimized, but neither is it held against you (as we often do ourselves), nor does He strip us of our image-bearing nature because of the afflictions. Even if we forget who we are under all the wounds, we remain His poem.
An Invitation to Breathe
With this yet turning in my soul, I read an article/sermon written by author Sarah Bessey based on Matthew 11:28-30 and I found myself on a rabbit trail of thought which stirred my affections even more as I pondered.
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
Matthew 11:28-30 (MSG)
Besides the ‘I Love Lucy- Vitameatavegamin‘ flashback goodness, more importantly, in this text we see Jesus acknowledge our burden (which that in and of itself could send me on a tailspin of “why do we feel the need to pretend when He clearly doesn’t?”, but I digress). Every other “yoke” is heavy and cumbersome and exhausting. Every role we try to take on without His leading, all the spinning plates, the personality “fixes”, non-stop work to achieve whatever we believe will bring us contentment or notoriety… it’s all stifling. The fact that Jesus calls it out here tells me that He not only sees it all, but He also wants us to see how constricting the other stuff is to the freedom and movement we receive when the yoke of Jesus becomes our lead.
“Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.” His yoke is light, allowing us to walk upright and without straining for breath. His yoke fits. Jesus doesn’t ask us to morph into a cookie-cutter mold of religious Christianity, nor does he dislocate the joints of how we were created to make us fit manmade practices, or how we should behave or think or what we should be gifted in. His yoke fits us well. In all our unique personality traits, all our individual creativity, our ideas, our questions, strengths and thought processes, we experience the unforced rhythms of grace and learn to give to others as we watch His example.
Master, Savior, Jesus
As we grapple with this beautiful yoke of Jesus, we must understand that we bring the whole person He created us to be and place it in His service. We are not in control. We are His beloved but we do not hold the reins or place an order for a yoke “less itchy” or “less square”. We can’t form a Jesus who fits us best or sculpt out a belief system that makes us more comfortable. He is Master! We are invited to enjoy “walk, work, watch, and learn” with Christ. What a privilege! He is side-by-side with us but bears the full weight of our unity while we remain in Him.
We get to rest and knowing that we are well loved. We have a Master who created us in His perfect shape and outline, filled us with the right inner stuff to reflect Him as He sees fit, with myriad differences and nuances but with a specific united message. And because He knows we need to be guided and led and protected, He fashioned for us a yoke that would hug the curves of our shoulders and neck so we realize that we are covered and safe under His control.
There is no reason to shirk off the yoke He has placed on us because we know we’re led with such great care. Our Creator values you, not only as one of His many children, but actually YOU! He enjoys you, delights in you, and knows all about you. He is a Father beaming with pride and love over His child, whom He formed and knit together intentionally. The yoke of Jesus invites us to live most freely and fully as we learn from Him and glorify the Father in ways that He’s formed within you to reflect Him.
This is just one of the many glimpses of hope and life that has hit me recently. Perhaps the ease you have found in Christ’s yoke is a story of freedom from something I’ve not even considered, but is every bit as wonderful! That’s the beauty of seeing our Maker in the lines of His poem spoken through your life. He is your portion and your song… sing His praise with deep breaths and feel the lightness of His strong yoke.
I love you all!
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