Chocolate Milk

I love me some chocolate milk. Actually, I drink a glass of homemade chocolate milk almost every morning for breakfast. No, I didn’t make the milk. And no, I didn’t make the chocolate syrup. But I do put them together each morning in my favorite FrogHead Grill cup(courtesy of Clinton, MS) and stir until there is a beautiful brownish-gray liquid for my enjoyment. And that is all done at my home, so home-made.

I am a chocolate milk snob to be honest, so it has to be just right. I can’t have too much chocolate. But at the same time, I can’t have too little either. I want chocolate milk not diluted chocolate syrup, or slightly discolored milk.

What’s strange to me is that chocolate milk is amazingly similar to our hearts. I know that sounds incredibly odd, but let me explain. You see, to make chocolate milk you have to add the black syrup to the white milk. Once the syrup is added and the milk is stirred there is no going back. You can never get the chocolate out 100%. The same thing goes for what we “take in.” Our minds have the ability to store images and phrase for an indefinite amount of time. I can recall images I looked at when I was ten years old. And there is a good chance you can too.

So, I guess the question to ask is: “What is your syrup?” I mean “What are you putting in?”

I actually spoke on this topic just last night. If we are called to remain pure of heart, then how can we expect to be pure if our mind is polluted with Pornography, Gossip, Slander, Violence, Covetedness (I couldn’t come up with a better word there)? What we influences our everyday influences our hearts just as much as it does our minds.

Thankfully for us there is Grace. Even though the milk of my mind will never be chocolate free again, I still have the ability to overcome the muddled mind that I have created by relying on the Papa’s amazing grace.

I want to leave you with this. Your milk may already have syrup in it, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep adding more. Be careful what you put in.

My name is Jason White, and I am sinner, saved by grace, and loved beyond what I deserve.

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Self-Realization

I don’t know if it’s just me, or maybe there are other almost 30 year olds out there trying to figure themselves out. I feel like I have lost touch with what makes me tick. With what brings me true joy. I keep getting things wrong. It seems like I keep screwing up.

I feel like I need to “fix” myself. I have been trying to come to a point of Self-Realization. To a place where I have everything figured out and I know what is wrong with me. A place where I not only know what is wrong with me, but why, and how to fix it.

But, what if that’s not the point?

Papa doesn’t want a self-realized man. He simply wants me. He wants the broken me. He wants the hurting me. He wants the me that gets mad at his wife sometimes. And the me that sucks at managing his finances.

He wants all of my Crap just the way it is. He wants everything that I have to offer Him. Good or bad. He wants me and all the baggage so that He can use it. He wants to pour me out, all of me. He wants to use my bad for His good. He wants to use my weakness for His strength. He wants to use my ugliness for His beauty. And He wants to use all of me for His Glory.

Devotion to Papa is not about realizing all of your faults and failures and trying to fix them. It’s about laying all of that down and allowing Grace to wash over you. Let Papa change you, you aren’t strong enough to do it on your own.

My name is Jason. I am a sinner, a failure, and a bastard son. A ragamuffin covered by grace and washed by the Blood of the Lamb.