Being Christlike is easier said than done.
My brain is filled with memorized scripture. I have worked at it from my earliest days of Sunday School, when reciting the memory verse meant a bright shiny gold star on my chart, to school where the chapters memorized meant earning extra privileges, to participating in Bible Quizz Tournaments. And the learning of each verse and chapter and once even an entire book, was done because I had a carrot dangled in front of me. There was a PRIZE to be had if I put to memory the words from the page. So I did. And they are with me still. Hundreds of verses over the years. Most times when a familiar passage is being read I know it by heart. So I can talk the talk with the best of them. Walking the walk is another thing entirely.
When people ask me if I am a Christian I cannot answer, “Yes” in complete honesty. For to be a Christian is not something you can say about yourself. Others can… but can ANY of us say “ I am like Christ”… some days yes… other days, to my shame… no. So I say instead that I am a follower of Christ. I am a disciple of His. I am living my life in a conscious effort to be, as His followers called themselves, a person of The Way. He is that Way.
I revel in His love for me, so deep, so amazing. That He, who knows me best, loves me most. That boggles my puny mind. Humbles my heart. Breaks my will. And makes me want to love Him. But how? He said “If you love me, keep my commandments” (John 14:15) so I’m loving him the way HE wants to be loved. The words I choose, the clothes I choose, the way I spend my money, time and talents, these all I choose to do in the WAY his word directs me to. But unlike His love for me, unfailing, mine wavers sometimes. As evidenced by my choices. My pride gets in the way, the ME monster arises and snarls and snaps at others, I let hormones, situations, fears and petty personal preferences sit on the throne of my heart. Oh but then… the WORD comes, out of the recesses of my brain where it was stored and it speaks to my erring heart. Bringing the light of TRUTH into the dark corridors of my life. And there I repent, talking the talk… and straighten up the limping walk. My stride becomes stronger with each adjusted step. As I align my walk with His gait the rhythm smoothes out and once again, hand in hand we walk. Talking the talk, walking the walk.