What National Geographic taught me about my heart

What was your favorite book growing up? 

I spent hours pouring over a bright red picture book of China. Can't remember when National Geographic left this hefty tome on our tiny front step. But for this little girl, that was one glad day. Blurry cityscapes and lush countrysides burst off every page, and I still remember the thrill of tracing my finger across the two page spread of the Great Wall of China. 

The most fascinating image? That was the terracotta soldiers guarding the tomb of China's first emperor, Qin Shi Huang. Row upon row of clay statues stretching as far as the eye could see. My head would bend low over these pictures for long, quiet moments. Straining to see each uncanny, human expression and every worn detail on their chiseled weapons.

But eventually, this great army of identical frowns and hair buns would blur and become one mass on the page. The work of searching out each soldier would become too much. The strain of examination would exhaust me. 

Idols, like those terracotta soldiers, can blend into the landscape of my heart.

They have skillfully wrought facades making them appear strikingly similar to pure desires and loves that live there. And often, it's not til these cunning idols get knocked over and crumble that I become aware of them. 

Like when some expectation goes unmet, leaving me mopey for days. Or when a good friend gets engaged, and my life dissolves. Or a healthy change in diet leaves me unable to think of anything but junk food for weeks. Or...fill in your own idols and how they topple. It happens.

And that's when we realize these things have reached a "worship status" in our hearts
that they never should have. 

I hate this. The thought that I have started to worship something other than God. But searching my own heart never works well. Is this desire pure? What are my motives for this action? Who/what is being worshiped in my heart other than God? Then just as my limbs would weary from sitting cross legged and staring at those glossy pages, I grow exhausted from asking these questions. It's too hard. Who can know it?

And rows of idols can crowd the heart. 

Suffocating close. 







David was keenly aware of "any wicked way" taking up residence in his heart. And He realized the testing of his heart must ultimately be a Divine work. A work done as he was careful to meditate on and apply God's law. He prayed Search me, O God. Try me. Know my ways.

Only the searchlight of God's Word can reveal the true condition of my heart. 

So if the responsibility for 'trialing' my own heart doesn't rest on my own shoulders, what is my role?  

Be in this Word.

As much as possible. The teaching, reading, talking, thinking, hearing of it. Be creative. Grow in your contact with it. The more you bask in its light, the more your eyes will see wicked ways. 

...............................................

As the years went by, my China book was gently closed, slid back on the shelf, and forgotten. But the Word of God cannot be so handled. An idol free heart must be a heart glowing with the Word of God. 

May we find an endless fascination in pouring over its pages. 

Beth