Sifted Like Wheat
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A cock crows as eyes lock and Peter remembers. Empty words, so many well intended promises and fixed convictions vaporize as one fisherman's noble vow sours in bitter tears. "Lord, I'm willing to go to prison and even to death with You." Jesus nods. He sees, He knows. His impact on this simple Galilean was as real as it was secure, but the work was by no means finished. How could this now crippled son of Jonah have possibly wrapped his brain around participation in Jesus's passion, that he had to be sifted like wheat? How about us? Our identification as believers with One who loved and gave Hi...
A cock crows as eyes lock and Peter remembers. Empty words, so many well intended promises and fixed convictions vaporize as one fisherman's noble vow sours in bitter tears. "Lord, I'm willing to go to prison and even to death with You." Jesus nods. He sees, He knows. His impact on this simple Galilean was as real as it was secure, but the work was by no means finished. How could this now crippled son of Jonah have possibly wrapped his brain around participation in Jesus's passion, that he had to be sifted like wheat? How about us? Our identification as believers with One who loved and gave Himself is more than a nod with grateful approval, a "thank you Jesus for what You've done." We too participate. Literally. Actually. Necessarily. Sifting takes a believer's personal know how and determination to the threshing floor where they are crushed and dismantled, crucified with Christ. See it as the place where even your best efforts and my highest aspirations are exposed for what they are, filthy rags! At the cross and nowhere else can we find genuine rest and consummate relief by way of brokenness that leads to surrender-life and that more abundantly.
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