Galatians 5:1
This summer I walked away from God-- not in the sense of reckless sinful behavior or denial of His existence; nonetheless, my walking was characterized by sin and by denial of the truth of who God is and who I am.
I have an addiction to being entertained, to having fun. Next to distortion of God-designed sexuality, I think one of the enemy's most powerful distractions is a warped perspective of rest. And for the past few years, I have become more desensitized to his lies.
Each day I was presented with a choice: I could abide with Christ, or I could be numbed by the seemingly mindless entertainment Facebook and sitcoms offered. But these media are not mindless; they are, by default, mind-altering because they make God small. And each day I chose to make God small in my mind and heart.
By making God small I made myself big and continued to seek after the things that made me happy. Sitcoms make me laugh. Laughter equals happiness, does it not? Facebook is a great tool for self-validation, and I became obsessed with posting the best pictures and writing the most clever statuses and checking my notifications every 10 minutes to see how many people liked, loved, laughed or commented on my posts.
I knew I needed to quit. I knew there was no way I would choose Christ over myself unless I removed these distractions. Yet I continued to pursue my idolatry week after week, not repenting of my sin. I had "come to Jesus" moments, especially when I was called on to pray or lead or represent Christ in a specific way, and I would confess my sin and ask the Holy Spirit to give me a desire for God's Word and presence. Still, I could not wait to get home from whatever activity so I could pull out the snacks and watch some more TV.
I was not planning on telling my group that I had grown apart from Jesus at the retreat in September. There we were, women who love God and are committed to grow in Him together as part of a three-year-long discipleship program. I'm a good little Jesus girl. I write about Jesus, sing about Jesus and talk about what Jesus is doing in my life readily. But that night, as we shared updates on our lives and happenings over the summer, I knew freedom would come through confession that I did not love Jesus as much as I once had.
The next morning, during a planned two and a half hours of solitude, which was the shortest two and a half hours I've ever experienced, I repented of my idol worship. As much as I hated to, I committed to not watching a single TV show or movie by myself for the indefinite future, and I deactivated my Facebook account.
Freedom comes at a cost. We may feel like we are paying the price for our freedom by swearing off addictions, whatever they be - social media, pornography, food, alcohol, etc. - but our sacrifice is so small compared to the one that purchased our ultimate freedom. Only when Christ and His cross are magnified in our hearts can we make small those earthly things that tempt us.
Praise God for several weeks of freedom from TV and Facebook. Removing these distractions, however, has only brought more manifestations of the idol of entertainment to the surface: books that are more interesting to me than the Word of God, YouTube tutorials for hair and makeup that focus my heart on my physical appearance rather than thankfulness, and many more. Christ has loosed the chains, but we must choose every moment to walk away from bondage.
I'm still learning to fall back in love with Jesus. I pray that you will have strength through the power of the Holy Spirit to forsake whatever idol you have been serving and bow at the feet of Jesus who gave His life to show you love. May we give our lives to show Him love.
