Nothing I Can Do
I’m doing it again.
2011 is barely 11 days old, and I’m up to my old tricks.
My only trick, really: (deep circus announcer’s voice) “How Much Can Cheri Do?” To prevent monotony, it comes in two variations: the Every-Square-Filled Calendar-of-the-Year and the Never-Ending To-Do List.
Right now, I’m wrestling to make a double-booked February weekend work. The Learning and the Brain Conference (which make me a better teacher) overlaps a Christian Writers’ Seminar (which will make me a better writer.) In fact–woah, this just occurred to me!–the brain seminar will make me a better writer, and the writing seminar will make me a better teacher. Exponential benefits! Now I really have to do both!
My current To Do list puts all prior ones to shame. Two decades ago, as a brand new teacher, I was lamenting to my principal about all the things I had to do. I had so many projects going, each one with a myriad of details only I could do. Donna Brantley, in her wisdom (and without tact) said these immortal words: “Yes, Cheri, you sure did do this to yourself!”
I was hurt. Then humored. Then humbled. And then right back at my old trick.
Why?
Why do I keep doing this to myself?
“I had let my ‘good work’ become an idol that defined me. Rather than finding my identity in my relationship with God, I was finding it in my drive to do ‘good work.’ (Click to Tweet this.)
The more I dove into Scripture, the more I realized I had been deluded. I had grown up drinking a dangerous cocktail–a mix of the gospel, the Protestant work ethic, and the American dream. My eternal worth was rooted in what I could accomplish.
The most important thing…was to be busy. Industrious. Hardworking. A self-made man–er, Christian. The Savior I was following seemed, in hindsight, equal parts Jesus, Ben Franklin, and Henry Ford.” (Phil Vischer Me Myself, & Bob, pg. 236-237)
Oh, I “believe” in — give intellectual assent to — salvation by grace. But take one look at my To-Do List or my Calendar, and you’ll see that I believe in — put my active daily faith in — doing, doing, and more doing.
My eternal worth isn’t a “trick of fate.” My eternal worth doesn’t depend on anything this one trick pony tries to do.
After all, at the cross, didn’t Jesus say, “It is finished”?
It’s a done deal.
There’s nothing I can do.
Nothing but pray: Lord, help my unbelief!
