Chosen. A chosen generation. We are. All of us. Are. Chosen.
I've been telling my students that they are a chosen generation. I can do that in Jamaica.. For now...there is no separation of church and state. I've been saying to them, act like you are chosen. When you go to choose something.. Don't you choose the best? Do you buy clothes with holes? Or stale food? Or expired snacks? The answer is always a resounding.. NO!!
Then, I say...exactly! And that's exactly what God did, he chose you...the best, brightest children and you need to act the part. It sounded really great coming from my mouth, it sounded really, really good and I hoped it would soak in, I hoped it would change behaviour. I was wrong. I was wrong from the beginning.
Imagine if you see yourself as clothes with holes, as an expired snack or stale? Well, if you're a thinking child, you would think, God hasn't chosen you...he couldn't choose you, for you aren't worthy! You have too many holes.
We are a chosen generation.
I was wrong. My analogy was all wrong. God doesn't choose the best, he doesn't choose the ones without holes and as I was ready to smash my PC into the wall I realised, I realised the holes in my thinking didn't match the ones in his hands.
We are a chosen generation, inspite of our holes, inspite of our staleness or our expiry date. That's where grace and mercy comes in. We are a chosen generation, every last flawed one of us, because God knows that despite our holes, we are still worth more; despite our staleness, our freshness still carries a sweet savour and despite our expiry dates, we still are worthy of eternal life.
I do outlet shopping, like everyone else, I like to save a buck. One day I saw the nicest orange top, but on it I saw a tiny white sticker with a tiny red arrow on it, I had no idea what it meant. The blouse was cute, so I bagged it and left. When I got home and tried it on, I realised something. Tiny holes. The tiny white sticker with the tiny red arrow was pointing me to tiny holes in the blouse. Flaws. I didn't notice at first. Now when I shop at that store, I look out particularly for tiny white stickers with tiny red arrows. I don't choose those clothes.
Humans choose around flaws. Humans choose perfection when buying. Humans, as we know from creation aren't really good at making the best choices.
God. God is not at all like us. He has that discerning eye. He knows every hair numbered on our heads. He sees those tiny white stickers with the tiny red arrows pointing to and out all our flaws...all of them. Yet. Yet, he says...You. Yes you. Come. I choose you!
How must I know right this wrong? This seed I have planted that says you are chosen because you are the best? How do I get someone who thinks they are the worst to still feel like they are chosen?
Is it as simple as saying God loves you? Could it be as simple as pointing to the most important holes ever driven through flesh?
Perhaps...perhaps... Perhaps
Thanks for the update
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