TRUTH NOW, LAZARUS

I feel like I'm the closest to mental, emotional and spiritual "clarity" than I've been in a while, which isn't saying much, but I suppose it's a start. I've been reading the minor prophets lately, which is mostly dire, dark stuff, but strayed into the Psalms for a bit last night and was struck by Psalm 15:

    O LORD, who shall sojourn in your tent?
        Who shall dwell on your holy hill?
    He who walks blamelessly and does what is right
        and speaks truth in his heart;
    who does not slander with his tongue
        and does no evil to his neighbor,
        nor takes up a reproach against his friend;
    in whose eyes a vile person is despised,
        but who honors those who fear the LORD;
    who swears to his own hurt and does not change;
    who does not put out his money at interest
        and does not take a bribe against the innocent.
    He who does these things shall never be moved.

I bolded the line that really stood out to me: "...speaks truth in his heart."

Through self-reflection and the exhortations of those God has placed around me, I've realized how much falsehood I've allowed to dwell in and sink into me. It's not that I've consciously embraced it, but I have done little to consciously combat it. This will change, with God's help. I'm going to immerse myself more in the Bible and prayer to do this.

Also, during my lunch break this afternoon, I realized how defeated I have been lately. While I accept and even embrace the notion that there are times when God demands silence and godly sorrow from us, our victory in Christ is never to be forgotten or set aside. I struggle with keeping that balance, but I'm sick of being so bogged down by fleeting burdens; I'm sick of slouching my shoulders as I walk beside the King, as His prince; I'm sick of living as if it were still those three days between the death and resurrection.

My troubles are temporary, but my victory is eternal. My faults are real, but my standing is assured. There is sorrow for me to taste, but my Savior has tasted my death -- and He's risen, and I with him.

As I prayed last night, I remembered Lazarus and our cell group's recent Bible study on John 11. For maybe the first time, I shifted my perspective and thought of what Lazarus must've seen as he rose from that slab of stone and walked, still dressed in linen, toward the tomb's bright opening. I wondered how he must've felt when he saw -- as he maybe expected to -- the face of none other than Jesus before him as the cloth was removed from his eyes.

I prayed that I would be Lazarus, that I would be made alive again, that the cloth would be removed from my eyes so that I might see my Love again.

I need God's help, of course. Your prayers would be appreciated as well.