“And when I run, I feel His pleasure.”
I don’t know if Eric Liddell truly said those words, but when I heard them, while watching “Chariots of Fire”, I felt a chill run down my spine. The question has been running through my mind ever since. Do I seek to feel His pleasure?
Day in, day out... I strive to live purposefully, work steadfastly, and achieve excellence. Yet for what? For man’s passing applause? For my own, unsatisfied heart? What do I seek?
Why do I lie to the longings of my restless soul by weighing myself down with the imitations found in this world? Why do I allow passion to guide me—why do I seek it as my strength? Why have I allowed the beauty of His creation to hold a fast grip upon me—a grip that has caused me to stumble? A passage in Augustine’s “Confessions” is brought to mind: “My sin consisted in this, that I sought pleasure, sublimity, and truth not in God but in His creatures, in myself and other created beings.”
Lord, help me. I am poor and needy. I chase after the wind—I seek the imitation. Yet You are the Truth... and I am Yours. Father, I beg You: Give me a desire to hunger after You. “Bring to me a sweetness surpassing all the seductive delights which I pursued. Enable me to love You with all my strength that I may clasp Your hand with all my heart. The house of my soul is too small for You to come in it. May it be enlarged by You. It is in ruins: restore it. In Your eyes it has offensive features. I admit it, I know it; but who will clean it up? Or to whom shall I cry other than You? (“Confessions”).” So Lord, in fear and trembling I come before Your holiness. I cower in my present state. Cleanse me and give me love—not the love of this world, for that is not love at all—but Your love. Lord, may my life be lived for Your pleasure.
In Your gracious and most sovereign name, amen.
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