Is My Heart Really Yours, Lord?

As I was headed to Walmart a week or so ago, I was listening to this song in the car:

Some of the words:

“My heart is Yours, take it all, take it all, my life in Your hands.

I lay down my life, I take up my cross, Jesus,

you are my God, whatever the cost, Jesus.

All to Jesus I surrender, all to you I freely give.

All through Walmart, I hummed the tune still in my heart, said the words over and over, “All to Jesus I surrender, all to you I freely give, I lay down my life…” with thoughts of surrender. My mind was captivated with the song.

Until I arrived at the checkout. There was an abrupt interruption. There were long lines, and I was in a hurry with about 15-20 items. As I stood in line, a man came and just wedged his basket and pushed his body in front of my cart. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve had people ask if they could go in front of me if they only have a few items, but he just decided he was doing it because he only had a couple of things and I had more. (No, it wasn’t an express lane.)

My first reaction (only in my mind thankfully) wasn’t kind. I didn’t want to say, “Oh, sure, that’s fine. Go ahead.” But the moment my heart got ugly, the words of the song flashed back to my mind.

Really? Will you really surrender your whole life to Jesus, give your whole life to Him — oh, of course, except your place in line, right? I was convicted, shamed. I immediately welcomed his place there and struck up a conversation. He seemed needy for conversation, someone to talk to. I found out where he lived and told him about our church plant in that town. As he left, he thanked me for letting him get in line and told me it was nice to talk with someone.

Wasn’t that better than demanding my rights? I could have so easily missed the opportunity by being abrupt in response, ignoring him.

How very quickly my heart can go from willing to follow and love Jesus to getting irritated and wanting my way. It didn’t take long, but I was thankful for the conviction God gave in that moment to recognize it. I’m sure I often miss it. The words were just too fresh on my tongue to miss the inconsistency.

I’ve pondered this encounter a lot the last week. You’ll give up your life, but not your place in line? And if you don’t give up your place in line, are you really giving up your life? Things to keep considering.

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