Don’t leave me

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. ~Psalm 23:1-2

Our just turned 3 year old son is learning how to “stay dry” all night, so most mornings around 4:30 or 5 he will wake up needing a potty run. Normally this is a sleepy occurrence that I orchestrate as smoothly as possible and tuck him back into bed without much conversation or lights. One morning however was different. He awoke anxious and fretful, and as I quickly helped him get to the bathroom, he kept asking me where I was.

“But I can’t see you!” was his repeating refrain to which I kept replying, “I’m right here with you, buddy.”

“Don’t leave me!”

“I promise I’m not. I am right here with you in the dark. You are fine. I love you.”

I tucked him back into bed, sang him a few songs, and whispered, “I love you so much.” A sleepy “I love you too Mom.” came back as he drifted back to sleep.

And just like that, the Holy Spirit slammed into my soul with the truth that oftentimes this is me. And His heartbeat is far more trustworthy and true. His presence much more powerful and safe. His love more steadfast and his kindness far deeper than mine.

There are dark seasons and I sit, feeling exposed and vulnerable. I may be tired and perhaps confused, yet He stands right there with me.  I worry about what I can and cannot see that will be on this path. He guides, protects, holds me tight, and carries me out. I panic, fearing the worst and work myself into a state of exhaustion. He makes me lie down and rest my weary self. Thoughts that this time I am alone are confronted by the truth that He comforts and He never leaves.

Psalm 23 echoed in my mind early that morning in the bathroom and as I tucked him back into bed for a few more hours of sleep. You are with me. The Great Shepherd tends his sheep with diligence and strength. I shall not want. He brings true rest and restoration to the anxiety-riddled, weary souls. He leads me beside waters of rest. He restores my soul. He doesn’t allow us to wander aimless and insecure, alone in the darkness of the next step. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. And in those seasons that feel as if the darkness is a blanket, suffocating and terrifying, in the shadowy places where hopeless thoughts assail, lies abound, and paralysis creeps in, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. His guidance and His protection will lead back to rest and comfort. He is at work even in times where it seems that all hope is lost. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. A walk with Him is filled with great spiritual bounty as He deepens my trust in Him.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

9 – Great High Priest

`But when Christ appeared as a high priest of the good things that have come, then through the greater and more perfect tent (not made with hands, that is, not of this creation) he entered once for all into the holy places, not by means of the blood of goats and calves but by means of his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption. ~Hebrews 9:11-12

The role of priest and the physical temple were central to the Jewish faith in the Old Testament. Established under Moses, the first temple was constructed according to God’s explicit design, and Aaron became the first high priest. We don’t relate easily to the role of priest in the Jewish faith so a good question to ask is why is it such an important concept that the author of Hebrews devotes chapters to explaining it? In the Jewish faith only the priest made atonement for sins – only he was able to declare righteous, to approve sacrifices, receive tithes, and to confirm one’s relationship with God for another week or year.

The most significant sacrifice was on Yom Kippur or the Passover. The great high priest would enter the Holy of Holies to attain atonement (the appeasement of God’s wrath for sin) for all Israel for one year. The holiest day in the holiest location by the holiest individual in Israel – only one could do this act. The priests in the Old Testament were called to serve the people and the Lord. Hebrews 5:2 tells us that the priest can deal gently with the ignorant and wayward, since he himself is beset with weakness. Servant leadership in action as the greatest leader who must be the most humble.

When we understand the exchange that had to take place – the life/blood of a perfect sacrifice for sin, and that only priests could facilitate that exchange, then we begin to see the completion and perfection of the role of High Priest in Jesus. We had to have not only the sacrifice but also the priest – prior to Jesus Christ, the sacrifice had to be offered continually and never made anyone perfect. For since the law had but a shadow of the good things to come instead of the true form of these realities, it can never, by the same sacrifices that are continually offered every year, make perfect those who draw near. But in these sacrifices there is a reminder of sins every year. For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins (Hebrews 10:1,3-4). We were facing the wrath of Holy God. But Jesus became our perfect, all sufficient sacrifice as the Lamb of God. And He walked into the inner place behind the curtain as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever (Hebrews 6:19-20).

Remember, just like the priests of the Israelites, because of his humanity as our high priest, we can come with confidence to find mercy and grace. He is able to sympathize with our weaknesses because He has been tempted but is without sin (Heb. 4:14) And this combination becomes an anchor for my soul in the storms of life and the flurry of lies from the enemy. He is my great Lamb – slain for all my sin as my propitiation to turn away God’s wrath from me. And He is my Great High Priest – seated at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in heaven, a minister in the holy places, in the true tent that the Lord set up (Heb. 8:1-2). He is able to save to the uttermost all of us who draw near to God through Him, since he always lives to make intercession for them. (Heb. 7:25)

vines part 2

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. ~Hebrews 12:1-2

Why a part 2? truthfully because the Lord won’t let me leave this truth. I am in a season of great threshing or pruning, whichever picture you would like to use. The process is similar – there is a discerning hand at work moving over me, working in me, pulling out of me the things that are not like Him. Discouragement and weariness beckon me, bite at my heels, and whisper to me to just crawl off the floor. Just walk away for awhile, take a break. I wish for a breather, just some moments to catch my breath. My heart aches, my soul trembles a little.

I used to run long mile runs (back before all my kids – now I just run after them and hope it counts as exercise!) and loved the feeling at the beginning of each run, knowing this was my time to think and pray, just looking around in the neighborhoods I loved to run in. Until. Always there was a mile or so in my 6 mile run that was brutal. It wasn’t necessarily the steep run mile or the end of my run, but often the brutal portion was about a mile into my run. My arms would ache, my muscles would feel crampy, my breathing would not be rhythmic, and I would have to work to put one foot in front of another. Now I’m not a “good” or knowledgeable runner – I never read any books or articles about it – I really have no idea why this was my pattern, but it was consistent. And every time I would battle in my mind whether this time I should just slow to a walk, or just turn around and make it a short run. But I learned that if I persisted, if I endured, I would pass through this horrible phase into a gentler rhythm of running, in which I could breathe with ease, enjoy the scenery, and just run. But every time it was a choice to endure. Every time I wondered if I would make it out to the pleasurable place.

The race is set before me. God has ordained a lane in which to run, purposed for His glory and His kingdom work. All of my race is His – the big, the little, special, or mundane – all purposed to change me and grow me in Jesus. In Hebrews 12, the word race in Greek means a contest, a struggle in the soul, a grueling conflict struggle or battle. I’m not running around a track or even cross country – NO! This is an epic battle fought as I press forward.  Maclaren wrote, “By faith we enter the race; through faith we receive His power to run and not be weary but we need to run to advance.” I need to run. Am I in continual movement in this race? Am I walking more deeply with Jesus today than last year, 5 years ago? Growth should be seen, muscles grown – landscapes changing as new obstacles come, new experiences occur to grow deeper in dependency and in faith.

Yet Jesus is the center. He is the faith giver, strength fortifier, lifter of my head. He is the race maker and the race winner. And he promises to lead me out to broad places, to be my refuge in my pantings, to steady my steps, make my bones strong, and make me like a watered garden with abundant springs. So while I am running a mile that feels like torture, He is always with me. He is not only refining me on this threshing floor, He is comforting me and holding me tightly. I choose to praise your name, Jesus.

For you are my rock and my fortress; and for your name’s sake you lead and guide me. I will rejoice and be glad in your steadfast love, because you have seen my affliction; you have known the distress of my soul, and you have not delivered me into the hand of the enemy; you have set my feet in a broad place.  ~Psalm 31:3,7-8

 

 

the vines

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. ~Hebrews 12:1-4

There are vines in my flowerbeds, vines that threaten to choke out the new growth, the established plants, and eliminate the blossoms and fruit that should grow. Interestingly, when I am weeding, I can actively see the vines that entangle the hydrangeas, hostas, and azaleas in my yard. They are obvious and an affront to me. How dare they take over my plants? However when I am just out by the pool, playing with my children, or walking through the yard quickly, my eyes can flick across the green landscape and the vines blend in. They are hard to distinguish sometimes because their tendrils wrap along the stems of the plant, allowing their leaves to lay alongside of the plant’s true leaves. The plant looks thicker, lusher even, at quick glance. As I gaze with intensity at the plants though, I can see the difference in leaves and slowly focus on the vines that wrap around.

Vines will also hurdle over the plant’s true stems, skipping right to the top of the plant, in order to gain the position closest to the sun. Their ultimate goal is not to dwell alongside the plant but to usurp the plant.  Left to their own growth, they will push the original plant down, limiting its new growth and weakening its stems. Whenever I strip the vines off of a plant, I am amazed at how the vines stunt the growth of the true plant causing fewer leaves and little to no fruit or flowers. Finally free of the crippling vine, the plant will begin to thicken and grow again filling in the gaps.

There are sins that entangle my heart, they wrap around my thoughts, crowd my affections and limit my growth. Weights of this world – responsibility, work, care taking – push down on my shoulders, and when coupled with sin, make me weakened, nonproductive, depleted, and bound. So whenever my desire to lead my children well becomes enmeshed with my pride rather than submitted to the Holy Spirit’s work in both of us, I have allowed the vines to grow. Whenever provision becomes about independence rather than dependence on Him, I have begun again to allow vines to shoot up and overtake. And whenever the unknown in the future seems to demand knowledge I don’t possess and I become fear driven and reactionary, the choking vines can block His light, His truth, and His lead.

Hebrews pushes me to remember Jesus. Remember His death on the cross that paid the atonement for me. Remember His position now as victorious King who conquered sin and death, setting me free from the fears, self love, and pride that seek to encircle my heart and drag me down. The struggle against sin is real. It is fierce. It is ongoing this side of heaven. But victory comes from Him!

Sin sometimes is hard to see, it becomes a part of my life and my eyes skim over the lies I have believed. But the Spirit is faithful to convict and teach. He will reveal and refine me as I submit myself to Him. Misplaced weight allows sin to grow. God promises to bear every burden we have (1 Peter 5:7), to provide every need we have (Matt. 7:32-34), to walk before us into every future event (Is. 52:12), and give us the wisdom we need every step of the way (James 1:5).

So let me run with endurance. Steady my feet on Your ground. Strengthen my hands for the weeding with your wisdom and discernment. Enable me to throw off the weights and untangle the sin. Grow in me your fruit. Let my garden display Your glory for Your renown today. You are worthy of all praise!

Do all things

Do all things without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain. ~Philippians 2:14-16

I quote this a lot in parenting, but as I have been studying through Philippians these past few weeks, I am convicted that I may not be leading my kids accurately in the truth of this passage. It’s a convenient quote to get my kids to obey but it’s sadly out of context when I use it as a hammer to stop fussing.

Grumbling – a murmuring; a secret displeasure, not openly avowed. Grumbling is often secretive because we know we shouldn’t voice our displeasure towards the one asking something of us.

Questioning – a reasoning or calculation that is self-based with the fixed mindset that one is right; a hesitation about what is true and disputing from that position. Questioning comes from a place of pride or superiority. 

Holding fast to the word – to hold toward, forth or to present as a light to illuminate; to mark, pay attention to, note or heed.

This verse is an exhortation that follows Paul’s call to be like Christ in humility/position with others. He instructs us to work out our faith because God is doing the work in us – stay committed to Him, submitted to Him. And then the attitude of the heart flows outward as fruit. When we walk with an attitude of superiority or pride, we grumble or question. We wonder what it is we are doing. We yearn for something else, something easier or more palatable. When we walk in humility, we serve and look like Jesus. I cannot simply decide to be humble. I cannot summon up a likeness to Jesus Christ in my flesh. I need to understand His humility.

The call to humility flows through the tunnel of sacrifice. Though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.  Therefore as I am washed in the humility of Christ, as His saving death floods my heart of stone, I too must walk in humility. Andrew Murray in his book, Humility, writes, “If humility is the first, the all inclusive grace of the life of Jesus – if humility is the secret of His atonement – then the health and strength of our spiritual life will depend entirely upon our putting this grace first and making humility the chief quality we admire in Him, the chief attribute we ask of Him, the one thing for which we sacrifice all else.” My pride, my love of self, my sense of self entitlement, must die. And that is very hard. Oh it is easy to say, I am quick to nod my head, yet I embrace myself at every turn.

Grumbling and questioning are merely symptoms of a heart tied more closely with self than with Christ. So what is my hope? How do I loosen the grasp of flesh? Hold fast to the Word of life. Cling to Him and His truth. Let Him illuminate every corner of my heart, root out each pride holdout, and work in me to replace my self love with His love. The more I allow Him to blaze forth out of me, responding with His humility to those around me, the more the world will see Him and not me.

We shine as lights; we look flawless in a world full of flaws. In a world of darkness, we are beacons of light. And the lost will be drawn to His light. The hurting will gravitate.  This is our response to God and the leading of the Spirit. So I also need to be very careful how I wield this verse with my children. The Gospel is central and paramount for a life that does not grumble or complain. How am I communicating Christ to my child? Because what I do not want to do is somehow communicate that grumbling and complaining can be turned off like a spigot. No, they are the very essence of my prideful flesh, and the only power over them is Jesus Christ.

So what is the state of the light that shines within me? Do I complain about where He says go and what He says do? Do I doubt what He says? This is my testimony for this world, either way. So is it “Did God really say?” or is it “Where you go, I will go.”

wrestle but worship

But when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went in to the sanctuary of God; then I discerned their end. Nevertheless, I am continually with you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me to glory. Who have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart my fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. ~Psalm 73:16-17, 23-26

 

He welcomes the wrestling for He knows. He knows the pain attached to the wrestling heart, He cares for the truth to become imbedded in the soul, He desires for me to yield completely. But righteous wrestling with Almighty God must always end with worship. The heart of the wrestler needs to remain submitted in the end to the greatness and sovereignty of the One who knows His plan. When we see David, Jacob, or any prophets wrestle with the truths of God, the end result is submission and worship.

Hannah in the Old Testament is a beautiful picture of the wrestling I long to do – she was married to Elkanah, and Scripture tells us that he loved her deeply. As was often custom then, he had another wife who had been able to have many children. Hannah had not. Hannah grieved over her barrenness. On one trip for the yearly sacrifices, Hannah went to the temple and began to cry out to the Lord in such a way that the priest mistook her silently mouthed prayers as drunken miming and confronted her. She answered with this, “I have been pouring out my soul before the LORD. Do not regard your servant as a worthless woman, for all along I have been speaking out of my great anxiety and vexation.” (1 Samuel 1:15-16)

Psalm 62:5-8 echoes this idea, “For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress, I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory, my mighty rock, my refuge is God. Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us. To wait for God, to long for Him to work and move in my life is part of the wrestling. Often while I am struggling with a trial or storm, I am grieved by the lacerations or wounds of doubt and fear. I frantically try to cover those up, hiding the anger or impatience that grow as I wait for His movement. But the impatience and fear allow me to believe the lies the enemy sends that maybe this time He has forgotten or rejected me. That maybe this time is the moment when He won’t prove trustworthy; or perhaps this is too radical of a request or need and so He is displeased.

Yet You have done no such thing!

Why do I default to chafing, whining and fear in my trial? When Hannah wrestled, she poured it all out before the Lord in the temple, and I can just imagine her heart. Crying over her barren womb and empty arms, worried about the affections of her husband, tortured by the other woman who provoked her with great hatred, looking across the years of waiting wondering why? and when? Yet she poured it all out like fine perfume, allowing her soul to grieve but in a posture of worship before Almighty God.

And then Scripture says she went her way, ate and her face was no longer sad. There in the midst of her waiting but after her wrestling, she trusted the trustworthy One. She had poured out her heart and now she was trusting the great I AM. Help me wait in silence even when all the questions come – my hope is from You and in You.

And after baby Samuel was born, weaned, and brought to the temple, Hannah exults in God. She prays again, and this time we hear all her words — maybe because now they are the worship of all God has done.

He who is faithful is faithful forever. There is none holy like the LORD; there is none besides you; there is no rock like our God. So let me know to run to You. Let me remember I stand in Your sanctuary.

The Journey

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. ~James 1:2-4

The journey with Jesus is remarkable, audacious, exciting, terrifying and exhilarating. But it is a journey, not a moment. It is the walking out of a faith that He grows and builds within me, the muscle that propels me forward into scary, uncharted places and allows me to stand firm in the places where I really just want to turn and flee.

This testing of my faith is not to prove whether it exists or not. I know that He who planted the faith within is faithful to grow and deepen it. Do I believe the faith I have been given is strong enough and will grow to see me through? Do I lean hard into the active believing in the grace, power and love offered to me by God as His child, or do I rely on myself with false hope of survival?

When faith proves itself stable and keeps my feet firmly planted, steadfastness results. I can run with endurance because Jesus is the author and perfecter of my faith (Heb. 12:2). It is the very thing that will bring glory to God – the work He does within me will be on display for His glory.

The walking out of my faith cannot be avoided. Life is filled with broken pieces, places that appear cracked, chipped, and even ugly. Grace died for all the broken, ugly pieces. Christ came into the mess of this life and saved me. He redeemed my life from the pit of sin, self love, pride, and carnality. He disrupted the course of my life bound for hell with the cross, nailing all my sin to the cross that I might live eternally. He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. (Colossians 1:13-14) That is the beginning of my testimony. As I journey with Him, He continues to love me steadfastly right in the middle of my doubt, arrogance, and depravity. This walking isn’t a one time event. There are many missteps I have made, many times my path has wandered off into my own way only to be brought back with His truth. He is faithful to this journey on the days I am not. He alone pursues. And I am so glad.

In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith — more precious than gold that perishes through it is tested by fire — may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ ~1 Peter 1:6-7.

I can stagnate in the moment and measure outcomes based on the success or failure I just experienced. This perspective is exactly what the enemy wants because I remain fixed on a point in time – a snapshot. My faith in that moment may seem weak or tremulous. Doubt and discouragement creep in. The voices that whisper shame or condemnation grow louder. But in those moments the truth of verse 8, “Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy,” becomes my quietly uttered resolve. I love Him. I believe in Him. As my world turns around, He is still good. His love for me is still steadfast despite the unlovely circumstances outside of my control.

True perspective, His perspective, sees the landscape and the journey and recognizes this may be a valley I am traveling through or a mountain I am struggling to climb. But it’s not a singular moment reflective of all of life. I am so glad this journey can sustain the valleys of my doubt and fear and still point to God Almighty. I am so thankful that walking this faith walk is just that – a walk – not a moment that defines but a steady daily movement towards Him. There are places in the valley and time on the mountain, moments stalled and times of giant steps.

But God is looking down the road, not perseverating on one moment. He certainly sees and engages in our moments but also sees where this journey will go.

All for the goal of my good and His glory.

 

The Bends in the Road

Epaphras, who is one of you, a servant of Christ Jesus, greets you, always struggling on your behalf in his prayers, that you may stand mature and fully assured in all the will of God.  ~Ephesians 4:12

just as you learned it from Epaphras our beloved fellow servant. He is a faithful minister of Christ on your behalf and has made known to us your love in the Spirit. ~Ephesians 1:7-8

As parents we get to watch God in action. I mean really watch Him molding and scraping and crafting one of his people. In the middle it often seems as if He’s not really making any changes; and if that person happens to be one of my older children, I can get a little nervous! I begin to orchestrate, implicate and manipulate in order to assure a result, to see the finished product I desperately long for. I have been guilty many times of comparing my children to those around me or to the false picture of what I believe they should look like.

 What God is teaching me is that my responsibility as a mother is to be more like Epaphras, who was characterized by his faithfulness to the Gospel and intense prayer. In Colossians 1, Paul recounts his hearing about the Colossians’ faith and love because of their understanding of the grace of God that they learned from Epaphras.  Epaphrus was a faithful teacher of the gospel who sought to establish new believers and mature them in their faith. Centering my own parenting on the gospel alone means drawing everything back to 4 major pieces: who is God in this, who are we, who is Jesus and what did He do for us, and finally what does that mean for you and me? Faithfulness to the Word involves not compromising on the truth for the sake of relationship ease but with humility sharing how the Gospel intersects this moment with my child.

My prayers for my child are vital. Often I lessen their power and heighten my own power of persuasion. Engaging in prayer for my child is not and cannot be an afterthought or a quick plea on the way out the door. Epaphrus struggled on behalf of the Colossians in his prayers. His prayers contended or struggled as in an intense athletic contest or warfare; as with an adversary. Do I have this same concept of prayer? When I plead before the throne for my child rather than lecture my child on a certain subject, consistently and faithfully God has done mighty works of faith and belief in my children’s lives. Most importantly, their heart changes are just that — their own in their budding walk with God, and not a response to a parent that often can be fleeting.

He is at work. And that is a mighty statement.

He is committed to these precious gifts far and away more than I am, and He can see around the bends. He knows the truths now that need to be shaped into my child’s character in order for him or her to walk out the moments around the bend. I am limited in my perspective and desperately want to protect my child from pain, hardship, or struggle.

But this way of walking with the Father demands I trust Him with my children. It means taking my manipulations out of the equation and granting Him the time needed to do His mighty work. It means laying aside my time schedule, my pride to have raised “good” or “godly” kids, and my understanding and instead bow my head to the One whose ways and thoughts are not my own.

But what I can also confirm is that suddenly the Mighty Potter allows his creation to turn! And then His forming masterpiece is seen! The works sown in daily life will bear a harvest mighty for His kingdom and for His glory. He is trustworthy and faithful.

Wineskin in the smoke

My soul longs for your salvation, I hope in your Word. My eyes long for your promise; I ask “when will you comfort me?” For I have become like a wineskin in the smoke, yet I have not forgotten your statutes. They have almost made an end of me on earth, but I have not forsaken your precepts. In your steadfast love give me life, that I may keep the testimonies of your mouth. ~Psalm 119:81-84, 87-88

This is me lately, testimony of where I have been stuck or frozen. Somewhere between absolutely longing for and leaning heavily on God’s faithfulness, His Word, and His love and being in a furnace of heat, wondering if I will survive or shrivel up as ash. I was reading through Psalm 119 because I needed to cling to His Word, to love the truths alive in God’s promises, and to rely on the stability of His precepts when it seemed as if every piece of my world was spinning and unclear.

The heart cry of verse 81 resonates with me. My heart must settle on the assurance of His Word ever true. My anchor must be in the truths of Scripture. Security is sourced in understanding the truth of Jesus’ life and death – what that means for me both for now and for eternity. In the depths of me and every aching heart is the longing for salvation. My eyes scan the horizon to see God at work, looking for his hand to move or change my circumstances, but sometimes He is after changing me instead.

Like a wineskin in the smoke, I feel stretched tight, brittle, aching, shriveling into dusty parts, withered more than vibrant.  I want to be out of the smoke, out of the heat, and away from the fire. I wonder. I doubt. I cry out. And His Word becomes my lifeline. It has to.

Jesus in John 17:17 prays for us that God would “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth.” Sanctification, the process of being made more like Christ, can only be done by Him and will be based in the truth of Scripture alone. Forsaking sinful patterns and setting us apart in holiness is the transformative work of the Holy Spirit because of Jesus Christ. It doesn’t come from feel good mantras or easy quips, it often doesn’t present itself like the easiest path, and it certainly stretches and carves on us to rid us of our flesh. Ephesians 5:25-27 details the truth of how Christ loves us and gave himself for us that “he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word.” And so I run to His Word; his name becomes my strong tower.

The wringing of my hands becomes hands uplifted in worship. The slumping of my shoulders becomes the bowing of my head before Almighty God. The crying eyes of grief become the eyes fixed on Jesus, the founder and perfecter of faith. The stretching of my soul becomes the growth of new trust and faith. The fire may not be quenched. The heat may not diminish.

But His Word stands. And His truth will become my testimony.

 

As a deer pants

“For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,” says the LORD, who has compassion on you. ~Isaiah 54:10

Overwhelmed, undone, weary, discouraged – these are the words that float through my mind these past several weeks. Painful bruises on my heart are seemingly on every side until it almost feels like each area of my life has become tender. I don’t want to do anything but pause in paralysis. Stay frozen that nothing else can happen (similar to the childish belief that if I’m still enough under these covers, the monster won’t see me). I teeter on the edge of emotions so any little thing can tip me yet I know the truth:

You are calm in the storm,

a deep well for the thirsty,

rich satiation for the hungry,

compassionate with steadfast love,

Your love, mercy, peace, and kindness follow me – purposefully pursue me – You won’t let me stay frozen. Like steady, warm water dripping, You melt the ice of protection that surrounds my heart. Your love intrudes where I feel alone, Your peace breaks through my anxious thoughts with your steady presence. You never withdraw, others might, but You never reject, never turn away. You seek me out — You reached into death and pulled me out! You are actively engaged in restoring and renewing!

My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God? These things I would remember as I pour out my soul: how I would go with the throng and lead them in procession to the house of God with glad shouts and songs of praise, a multitude keeping festival. By day the LORD commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life. ~Psalm 42:2,4,8

This journey of the psalmist echoes in my own life. I cannot escape the truth that I long for God, yet I am living in discouragement and fear. There are seasons where it seems the decay of our lives is abundantly clear, whether it is loneliness, doubt, worry, illness, betrayal, or something else. The destruction and rot that mark our lives because of sin become abundantly clear. The gut punch of pain that accompanies this state takes my breath away, and I am left gasping and heaving. And the whispers become shouts, “Where is your God?” As with a deadly wound in my bones, my adversaries taunt me, while they say to me all the day long, “Where is your God?” (Ps 42:10)

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God (vs11). Hope – full assurance; not wishful thinking.  The remarkable steadiness of eternal God turned to me because of Jesus Christ. He is my salvation. God is engaged in my life for my good and His glory. This truth ignites trust coupled with peace despite my circumstances.

Worship is vital to recall and to return to when I feel overwhelmed and alone. Remembering who He is and who I am to Him, His steadfast love that He commands and the song He gives to me – these are the truths that solidify my quavering soul. I begin to sing songs of praise and worship, not because I can see my way out of these breakers and waves that pour over me, but because I know He does. And I want His best for my life.

You are my Sustainer, my Great High Priest, Defender, Ancient of Days, the great I AM, Redeemer, Restorer, Joy Giver, Friend, Father, Counselor, Teacher, Strength Giver, King of Kings, my Rock, Tower, the Lifter of my head, steadfast Lover of my soul, and the great Peacemaker.  You are my salvation – let me lead in procession to worship You, longing only for You as you call me to come deeper still.