Tonight is Christmas Eve, a time in which many of us find ourselves reflecting on our “position” with the Lord. I say this, because as a Christian, I feel expectant to be in a sea of adoration at this time in the season, as I’m sure many others do. Call it obligation, instinct, or even politically correctness, those who celebrate Christmas stretch themselves to the core to understand the words in which for hundreds of years have described the magnitude of Jesus’ birth. We hear these words. Words. These devices that carry the weight of our emotions and souls’ condition in simple syllables. These sounds that can be expelled to the world in a spectrum of intention. In a state of glory, in a standing of self-righteousness, these words are discretely burdened with the weight of us meaning them. And is it not terrifying that the truth, honesty, and authenticity of our words have the chance to be perverted into the devil’s handiwork? A medium of pride, ego, and self glorification are all in the lottery of the way we speak. And pride, whether we wish to acknowledge it or not, has been a cycle in our religion from the beginning. And as shameful as it may be, I struggle with it immensely. Even if it is not necessarily in the light of day, I wrestle with pride in my relationship with the Lord constantly. I thirst for Him in a divine manner. I understand my need for Him. But in dry seasons where I walk through the “wilderness” as it is referred to in its biblical context, worldly corks pacify the holes that are keeping my heart from leaking in times I feel distant. I simply want SUSTENANCE. Sustenance that the Lord repels, and even goes as far to make me repel. But those convictions aren’t enough at times. At those times, I binge on deficiency. But majestically, these are the times when the Lord comes for me. Even if my heart isn’t clenched in His promises the mustard seed of faith is enough for His saving grace. Tonight, as I was taking a nap, my troubles were lurking. I had much to be sorry about in front of the Lord, but still I continued to pacify my aches with the world. But as always, the prince of peace came. I awakened with this image of a book cover I recently saw in Barnes and Noble. It was the cover of this christian book called ‘Soul Detox’. I never bought it, but this image just… appeared in my mind. The cover features a pair of hands in yellow rubber gloves ringing out a blue sponge that drips of contaminated water. As I continued to picture this image, my mind wouldn’t stop. I recalled the striking subtitle” “clean living in a contaminated world”. Instantly, the word contaminated bit my heart. Of course I’ve always know my heart was sinful, but a realization was amidst. I thought about how my world seemed contaminated. Not the earth as a whole, but just my small bubble. I acknowledged the constant pacification in which I had lately retreated to in my struggle with fulfillment in the Lord. Specifically, I identified the emptiness in which I foresaw my future. I’m a dreamer, but sometimes those dreams intercede with the Lord’s provision, a constant mistake of my past which I thought I had rectified for good. But, His teaching is always dynamic and ever changing. And this, which I have dragged out immensely, was His teaching for tonight, and for that matter a lifetime: COMPLACENCY AND HIS WILL DO NOT MIX. They are an oil spill in his perfect, flawless waters: CONTAMINATED. And this is how he showed me my world was not of His godly standard. These are the words that spark all that He is, all that is the great “I Am”. These are the words that fester into acknowledging His glory. Discover, seek, and pursue the reason for the season.