THIS SKIN I'M IN

I can’t remember a moment in my life when I wasn't aware of . . . GOD. 

Even in those times of perverse delight in the wicked pleasures of this world, I knew HE existed.  I've lived in fear of HIM, loved HIM, and have always wanted to be as close to HIM as He would allow.  What I didn't know, is that HE will let me get as close as I want.  I'd always been taught that in order to get close to him, I would have to die. From childhood, I've always seen death as the end to the struggle between my skin, and my spirit.  I've wrestled with the great adversary of our souls, and tweaked his nose on more than one occasion.  He threatened to kill me numerous times, and I told him to go ahead, do your best.  ( I knew my days were in God’s hands, not some amateur wanting to be God.)  I've always got a kick out of the people who say, “You don’t want to torque the devil off, he’ll take you out.”  

He can’t take me out. 

It’s a moot point. I've already been taken out. The last I knew, this skin I’m in will die.  I was born dead, but now I’m born again.  Forty-seven years ago, I received spiritual CPR, and this skin I’m in became a new creation.  I can’t live in fear of death, and claim to know the one who died to give me life.  As for being afraid of the devil, when I was born again, I was destined to wrestle with the powers, and principalities of the air.  The devil can’t stand the Spirit of Christ dwelling within a bag of bones, and skin.  Actually, the guy that really bothers me, is the one who used to live in the skin I’m in.

NO, I’m not mentally ill, although some people might argue that point. A matter of fact, I’m sure that Psychologists would have a field day in many churches.  (If you really want to mess with a psychologist, begin talking between your id, ego, and talk to your hand as if it were a sock puppet.)  When they begin to cock an eyebrow, look at them with a big wide grin, and say;  “You bought it!  You’re so gullible!” 

 

This skin I’m in is growing tired physically.  To wax scriptural, my tent is becoming threadbare.  I wasn't prepared for that.  Actually, I never thought I would live beyond my sixteenth year.  This bothered me for a long time.  Scriptural error, false teaching, and even my own misunderstanding messed me up.  I had a messed up idea of what salvation was.  Sometime around my thirties, I began to doubt God’s mercy, until I found out one little truth; this skin I’m in can bring glory to God.  It’s not messed up!  This skin can house the Glory and Presence of God.  This skin isn't wicked or evil.  I don’t have a genetic code to do evil.  My new DNA is written with a heavenly code that loves the things of God.  My heart pulses with a transfusion of the blood of Christ.  It isn't a few more weary days and then I’ll fly away.  I’m not “just an old sinner saved by grace.”  I’m the light and life of Christ.  This earthly tabernacle is left here to house the presence of God, not be a repository for a stinking corpse.  I am a new creation in Christ Jesus, and I will walk from life to life. 

I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here on this earth.  Both sides of my family tree are blessed with long life. If my family is any indication, I still have a good twenty more years.  I don’t know what my last days will be like, but I do know that the joy of being in this skin will be nothing compared to what I will experience beyond this present vale.  

Like the little sparrows that flew in and out of the tabernacle, I will rest in God’s provision, nestle under his wing, and watch with gladness as the fowler’s snare sits empty.  

This skin I’m in is blessed.