Category Archives: Firmly Rooted

When Winter Seems to Never End

Posted on by

We are still hemmed in by piles of snow, but here we are planning our weekly Lenten lunches for the community, talking about how to make Easter real for hungry souls. And we can feed them sandwiches, fill up bowls of hot soup in cupped hands, re-tell the stories of our Savior’s Passion, but Easter’s new life seems very far away to a world gripped in Winter still.

And you don’t need to look far to see the bruised and the weary, hear the prayers going up for deliverance and answers, watch the upheaval of change and the demands that stretch to breaking. You can hardly escape the relentless newscasts about hate-fueled violence, see the world reeling on its axis. A resurrection can seem like a distant improbability to the one firmly stuck in cold hard realities. And under the gray-metal skies and endless cold, a heart can begin to numb– get the life leeched right out of it even though it is still beating– forget to look up, to look ahead and hope. This is what Lent is for, to remind us of the promise that goes back to the very Beginning, and it sets up the cross in the middle of everything, with the very flesh of God suffering death and bringing life to us. The prophet Ezekiel wrote down the promise for his own people: “’Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord!…I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord.'” (Ezekiel 37:4-6) Jesus repeated it to His dear friends just before He called their brother back to them: “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in Me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in Me will never die.” (John 11:25-26) Lent sends our cold numb hearts to the cross and the empty tomb, bids us gaze on the proof of God’s love, let the certainty of hope run in our veins again and look forward to what He is accomplishing. Every year Spring brings that reminder of what is True and Eternal: the promise that in the end, Life wins. “.…thanks be to God, who hath given us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!” ( Corinthians 15:57)

The bare-boned trees stand silently cloaked in snow, but there is resurrection coming.

~~~~~~~

“Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy. Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert.” (Isaiah 35:6)

~~~~~~

 “For people who are stumbling toward ruin, the message of the Cross is nothing but a tall tale for fools by a fool. But for those of us who are already experiencing the reality of being rescued and made right, the Cross is nothing short of God’s power.”  (1 Corinthians 1:18)

Breathing Hard

Posted on by

I heard an old Christmas favorite by Amy Grant yesterday morning, one of many CDs I never got around to this year for some reason (and yes, it is perfectly okay to listen to Christmas music until the end of December, especially when you’ve been too busy before Christmas to enjoy it properly). I remember the year this album came out, when the mix of babies at home and holiday events became just too overwhelming. As a young mother in ministry, realizing Mary’s dependency on the Holy Spirit to accomplish the difficult thing she was called to do sparked a longing to know His powerful help in my own Everyday.

I listen to the song now, these many years later, and recognize God’s presence woven through– know that it was His strength that helped me, His light that guided me through many dark and confusing days, His own heart poured into mine so I could be a help to others. And this is the Christmas miracle that lasts into the New Year: the very Breath of Heaven that overshadowed young Mary is the same One who says to us “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10) The holy Presence that knit flesh and Spirit together to bring forth the Messiah, and comforted Mary through that uncertain time is the same the Musician-King sang about: “You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.” (Psalm 139:5) The Spirit of the Living God has entered this world to live with us. Not just for certain special people, or for specific important tasks, but for everyday living. This is why Paul the Apostle could tell people plainly that now we can “reach out for Him and find Him, though He is not far from any one of us. ‘For in Him we live and move and have our being.’” (Acts 17:27)The Christ Child grew up in this world, lived and died and lived again, and when He went back Home He promised “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.” (John 14:18) And so the Breath of Heaven comes to live in our fragile clay– simple Christ-followers, made temples by His presence.

This Advent season, everyday life seems to weigh heavy: real people baring their hearts in small groups; late night phone calls, and early morning texts asking for prayer, or for a listening ear; a deluge of tears and general messiness of all kinds. I think of those who are grieving for children lost, and others who are facing impossible circumstances, and the ones who are wondering where they went wrong and how to live out their faith in the place where they are. So many people who are searching for answers. So many who are longing for God’s touch, and just plain weary in their Everyday…seems like many of us could echo Mary’s prayer for help, this Christmas season.  Maybe it is the best way to pray for each other, here at the beginning of a New Year, that the divine Wind would blow through the ordinary in unexpected ways. Maybe there’s no way we can get through today or tomorrow, unless we remind each other often that God is with us, no matter how it looks– He is as close as our next breath. Maybe the only way we can leave the old year behind and face the new one, in spite of problems that seem like they are here to stay, is to remember that we have a Comforter-Helper who will not leave us either. And He is calling “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28) It’s me as much as anyone who needs to come close and give it up to Him… just lay it down and breathe deep.

~~~~~~~

“We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives, so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light.” Colossians 1:9-12

~~~~~~~

“I believe everything that You say You are;
I believe that I have seen Your unchanging heart.
In the good things and in the hardest part,
I believe and I will follow You.
I believe and I will follow You.”
(I Will Follow, Vertical Church)

Only Some Things Endure Forever

Posted on by

There are all these circumstances we can get stuck in, no matter how much we chafe hard against them; and doing-our-best isn’t always enough to change what is, and what is not. We wait for answers to our prayers, and wait for relationships to change, and sorrows to fade, and doors to open…all these things that we cannot affect. And I see the birds hunching down against the cold gray sky, and think how we are like that sometimes– as if we could wall out what hurts and just bend our backs under the weight, hold out till the skies turn blue again.

Maybe this holiday of Thanksgiving comes just at the right time to remind us of what is truly needful. Right when the brilliance of Fall turns dull and bare, and the earth is settling into Winter (right when we could lose a grip on  hope… let it blow away with the last of the leaves), there is this reminder that the giving of thanks is still appropriate. The Musician-King sang it thousands of years ago, left his testimony for us: “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.” (Psalm 118:1) It’s all a matter of perspective, and when we look at the right things, this season may be very short after all.  “As for man, his days are like grass…the wind blows over it and it is gone….But from everlasting to everlasting the LORD’s love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children’s children…” (Psalm 103:15-17) Fasten our eyes on what truly lasts, and the present circumstances show up fleeting in the light of eternity.

In many ways, giving thanks is our banner proclaiming allegiance to the King– the way we display our surrender to His will and His timing–even when we are tired of waiting. Giving thanks is a kind of offering laid on the altar of worship, our statement of trust that He is still at work and He is still good. It is an act of obedience, not just emotion. The church-planter Paul told the long-ago believers to “…pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:17-18) But he is just as quick to point out that it is for our own benefit, because when we pour out our hearts in prayer and thanksgiving, “…the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:7)  Giving thanks is our shield raised against discouragement and resignation, a weapon to beat back the darkness.

Maybe if we raise our heads brave against the wind and spend this season thanks-giving, we will find a joy we had not expected in these circumstances…and there is always hope. “I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” (Psalm 27:13-14)

~~~~~~~

“No matter what we’re facing, there are always only two roads: thanksgiving to God or dismissing of God.” (Ann VosKamp)

 ~~~~~~~

“When hard pressed, I cried to the Lord; He brought me into a spacious place. The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me? The Lord is with me; He is my helper.” (Psalm 118:5-7)

 

Wandering Doesn’t Make You Lost

Posted on by

We aren’t really comfortable with the idea that God sent His people out into the wilderness and let them be hungry and lost and tired on purpose. Maybe it was just the divine oversight of an Almighty Being who was busy spinning the planets in their orbits and hadn’t time for a few hundred thousand men, women, and children trying to make their way through the desert. But that isn’t any better at all, and if we cling to the belief that He is a personal and present God, then we are stuck with the inescapable facts recorded in Deuteronomy by Moses so that they would all remember: “God has led you in the wilderness these forty years, that He might humble you…and let you be hungry, and fed you with manna which you did not know…that He might make you understand that man does not live by bread alone.” (Deuteronomy 8:3-4) Though the lack of faith and the complaining were their own, the consequences were of His choosing and for His purposes.

And although we like to comfort ourselves with the platitude that God only gives us what we can handle, the experience of the desert wanderers is a sharp contradiction, a wake-up call to the self-satisfied– who can handle wandering lost with no home, looking for food and water in the endless wilderness for four decades, watching an entire generation of loved ones die, one by one? It is tragedy unmeasurable, and the only answer is that His purposes for us are so much bigger than we can see, so much more than we want for ourselves. We want to be happy; He wants us to be holy. We want our lives to be good; He wants us to live forever. “…Know in your heart that the Lord your God was disciplining you just as a man disciplines his son.” (8:5) 

But if all we see is the barren loss, we are missing the most important part of the story, the miracle that met them new every day.

Moses makes God’s intentions plain toward His Chosen People, that He wanted to break their stubborn self-reliance, their ideas of what life should be like and what they should have, till all they had was Him. And He Himself fed them with grain from Heaven, and made water spring from rocks, and kept their clothes from wearing out through all those long years, the shoes on their wandering feet whole, watched over them every moment, to show them that He was utterly dependable and faithful. He was Deliverer, Provider, Lover, and King– the I AM who was everything they needed. There in the desert, with the distractions and pleasantries of life stripped away, the choices became simple: Trust or not….Obey or not….Follow or not. Till they weren’t looking at the food or their feet any more at all, but only at Him. Till they could sing with all their hearts, “I am continually with You; You hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward You will receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but You? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides You. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Psalm 73:23-26)

In the end I wonder if we would ever trade the visible, personal power of God in the desert places for forty years of an unremarkable life of routine and safe pursuits. It’s only a matter of time anyway, because all of this life must be shaken and torn clean away, till we can see it for the temporary Shadowland that it is, if we are going to step into the everlasting Reality of God’s presence.

We aren’t entirely comfortable thinking about a God who leads people into the barren places, who takes away what we know and cling to (even if it be a kind of slavery), who allows grief and pain in our lives to humble us and teach us. But He Is Who He Is and there is a clarity and simplicity in the desert that those who wander can learn to value. And His purposes are always good. The prophets remind us of God’s true-love promises… “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord. ‘They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.'” (Jeremiah 29:11)…. “‘Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed,
yet My unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor My covenant of peace be removed,’  says the Lord, who has compassion on you.” (Isaiah 54:10)

May all our wanderings lead us straight to God.

 

 

 

 

“This means that all of creation will be shaken and removed, so that only unshakable things will remain. Since we are receiving a Kingdom that is unshakable, let us be thankful and please God by worshiping him with holy fear and awe.” (Hebrews 12:27-28)

 

 

 

“What if Your blessings come through raindrops?
What if Your healing comes through tears?
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near?
What if my greatest disappointments,
Or the aching of this life, 
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy?
What if trials of this life– the rain, the storms, the hardest nights–
Are Your mercies in disguise?”
(Blessings, Laura Story)

 

Deuteronomy 8:2-3

The Perfect Christmas

Posted on by

I wake up the day before Christmas Eve with the stress oozing out of me before I even brush my teeth. The weight of cards not sent, gifts still to wrap, last minute errands, that one present I haven’t been able to find, the empty fridge, Christmas Dinner and stockings to stuff, and all the children not even home yet makes it hard to breathe– presses and constricts till a person might break with it. Christmas expectations raise the bar impossibly high for a recovering perfectionist.

Somewhere between cutting grapefruit for breakfast and feeding the cat, I hear the Still Small Voice: “And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul?” (Mark 8:36) And I realize I could get everything exactly right and the holiday trimmings could be perfect for everyone in this house, and me broken and empty in the midst of it. What do you benefit if you gain the whole holiday and lose the essence of it in the rush? None of us will enjoy Christmas if Mama is ragged and shrill by the evening of the 24th, no matter what else is in the house.

So I breathe a quick prayer, standing in the middle of the kitchen in bare feet, knife in one hand and the other open to Heaven. If I miss Him in this Christmas, I’ve missed the whole thing. If my soul is not turned up toward Christ, it is no better than the inn that turned away His mother long ago. No room…no room…no room…because I’ve filled up my time and my thoughts with preparing for the big party.  No room for the birthday child Himself? Forgive me (yet again, because this is not the first Christmas to learn this lesson).

Lord, show me what things are most important in the next two days, and what things can be left undone. Give me wisdom to approach the holiday plans in new ways, and eyes to see You at work all around. We have no Christmas at all, if we do not have You…Come, Lord Jesus.

 

 

 

 

“And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. For as members of one body you are called to live in peace. And always be thankful.” (Colossians 3:15)

 

 

 

 

“We’re ready for Christmas,  not when we have all the gifts, but when we are ready for Christ — when we’re ready to give all of ourselves to Christ.” (Ann VosKamp)

 

 

 

All Things Big and Small

Posted on by

“The Lord is bigger than I am,” the old farmer said, shaking his head, cheeks red with the cold, blue eyes looking out over his fields. “He’ll figure it out.” And he bent again to his work, brown coveralls stained and worn, boots patched up with blue Duck tape right there on the toe. I watched him, our breath blowing white in the almost-Christmas air, and felt a bubble of joy rise as the world righted itself, the simple truth untangling knots of worry and lists of things to do and problems without answers. God is bigger than we are. God can fix all of this.

It is something all the tired stressed-out Mamas need to hear a week before Christmas: the ones hoping that grand-kids will come to visit; and the ones staying up late to wrap presents and decorate and bake cookies after working all day; the ones planning for huge family get-togethers and wondering how they will ever get everything done in time; and the ones who just wish everyone could get along for once. The gift in the small dark stable is bigger than the whole world and our crowding stresses dwindle small in the light of His presence. It’s just a matter of perspective: What really matters, and Who is really in charge.

And tonight I finally lift my eyes from a long day of lists and cookie sheets and phone calls to see bare-branch shadows on the snow in the light of the full moon, and I pause by the window, breathe deep the peace of the silent night, and think how easily the small things can eclipse the very large. How easily my world can turn inside out till I’m looking at the wrong side of things. How the old farmer was right to keep his eyes on the simply obvious: The Lord is bigger than I am, and He who hangs the moon and orders the stars, forms the snowflakes every one…well, He knows what concerns me today and can figure out what to do about it.

So I stop and watch, listen to the sound of quiet inside and out, and know what really matters is what He is doing, and He is (and always has been) in control. And suddenly there are wide open spaces, and peace.

 

 

 

 

“Joy to the world, the Lord is come!
Let earth receive her King…
And heaven and nature sing:
Joy, unspeakable joy
An overflowing well, no tongue can tell;
Joy, unspeakable joy
Rises in my soul, never lets me go.”
(Joy to the World, Chris Tomlin)

 

 

 

“Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being….Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor and gave him the name above all other names, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth….” Philippians 2:6-7, 9-10)

 

 

 

 

 

 

At A Loss for Words

Posted on by

I usually know what is going on inside me. And if I don’t, the work of finding the right words helps me to understand.

Seems like lately whenever I sit down to write there are too many feelings, words tangled up inside pushing to get out in no particular order and much too raw-edged to share. So I end up staring at the screen and writing nothing. Not that I feel the need to show something better, to hide what’s going on inside behind a row of properly yellow ducks. Just this inability to sort through the jumble to find the words, right now, and waiting for something to change.

For me, writing has always been a way to process life– to attach words to emotions and perceptions gives them shape, orders them into patterns that reveal meaning, connects them to bigger concepts and ideas. But it is the processing that is getting stuck. And I don’t even know what I need; can’t put a finger on whether the difficulty is a matter of too much, or not enough, the wrong direction, or the wrong thing altogether…maybe we are all like that at times. Sleeping Beauty lying unaware in a tower for a hundred years, till the Prince comes to awaken her.

But You know my heart, Lord, and You know what I need. And when I am at a loss for words You promised to pray for me, Your Spirit helping me, Everlasting Arms to carry me. And in this again You stoop to my weakness, that You would groan without words for my own wordless needs. “Test me, LORD, and try me, examine my heart and my mind; for I have always been mindful of your unfailing love and have lived in reliance on your faithfulness.” (Psalm 26:2-3) You know my days and You know the change I am waiting for, even though I do not. And somehow I feel sure that when I awake, it will be to the sight of Your unfailing love.

 

 

“In death, In life, I’m confident and
covered by the power of Your great love
My debt is paid, there’s nothing that can
separate my heart from Your great love…”
(One Thing Remains, Jesus Culture)

 

 

“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.” (Romans 8:26-27)

Counting Reasons

Posted on by

I’m listening to her talk as we all work out this morning, these good women from various church backgrounds, except that I happen to know her faith is a personal one. “I told God that whatever He decides is fine with me,” she says quietly. “I know He will do what’s best.” The others shake their heads in sympathy; I slant a smile for her courage, small offering to a wife nursing a second husband through cancer. She looks tired today, but she is here to exercise. The feet keep moving and voices intermingle with the upbeat music, and she is speaking her list of thanksgiving: an air conditioner in the apartment, a good breakfast, a daughter coming to visit for the holiday…

It seems hard to me that God would ask her to go through this loss again– hasn’t she suffered enough? Learned enough? The others are still talking, her praises still threading through, and when she says she will stay and take care of him herself, whatever it takes, I think maybe this isn’t about her learning  or growing anything.  Maybe it’s about her giving what she has already learned– blessing two men with her faithful love and willing service, sharing her faith and courage with these watching friends. And she is still offering up her reasons to praise God, all her reasons to hope and keep on going because He is with her: some days are almost pain-free, a new pill to help with nausea, God hears our prayers…

My heart can’t help but add to her list of reasons, because if she can praise where she is, how can the rest of us not? …strawberry sundaes, a night of rest, pink and purple flowers spilling out of a big pot, fireworks, coffee in the morning air, school loans paid off, meaningful work to do… This remembering is like breathing for our souls– drawing in acknowledgement of the Giver and pouring out thanksgiving– a litany of everyday praise that battles against depression and worry and fear. This choice to give thanks is a kind of spiritual discipline, the exercise that moves our hearts close to the Father in childlike trust, our minds to bow before the Creator. It is grace you can learn to see in the desert places: the sun and rain that fall on everyone, and daily bread. “The sun comes up, it’s a new day dawning; It’s time to sing Your song again. Whatever may pass, and whatever lies before me, Let me be singing when the evening comes….” (Matt Redman)

When I stop to stretch, change clothes and head out for the day, she waves goodbye from out on the floor, and I think how she shines without even knowing it, and how praise transfigures the most difficult things. And how we could spend our whole lives and not run out of reasons to give thanks.

 

 

 

“Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits…. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed– he remembers that we are dust.” (Psalm 103:2, 10-14)

 

“You’re rich in love, and You’re slow to anger,
Your name is great, and Your heart is kind;
For all Your goodness I will keep on singing,
Ten thousand reasons for my heart to find.

Bless the Lord, O my soul,
O my soul;
Worship His holy name.
Sing like never before,
O my soul;
I’ll worship Your holy name”
(10,000 Reasons, Matt Redman)

From the Mouths of Babes

Posted on by

Lately God keeps talking to me about faith– not how to live it out in words and actions, but how to live it on the inside, because learning to step out and do the right thing is good, but learning to “Be still and know that [He] is God” (Psalm 46:10) is important too. The word the Singer used for being still is rapha, meaning to surrender… allow yourself to let go. His song has more to do with remembering Who is in control than with ceasing of noise and energy– the surrendering is linked to the knowing.

Surrender is kind of a scary concept, and I’m all for it, but I think I’d prefer it to stay within reasonable limits. It’s like my faith ping-pongs somewhere between the innocent trust of a child who says “I don’t think Jesus wants it to rain on us” and the world-toughened rationalism of an adult who is a little hesitant to trust God for anything too big for fear He might not come through for us when we pray, and how do we explain that, or reconcile that with our faith? Looking around, I think I am not the only one, either. Most of us have this fragile balancing act going on between fear and faith, and often it is only the prevailing circumstances that make the difference.

Sometimes God does the big miracles and we laugh amazed with outstretched arms like children, and sometimes it rains and we mop up the chaos and try to hang onto faith in spite of the mess…so that after awhile some of us actually become pretty fair spiritual jugglers, resigned to handling faith and disappointment-with-God as natural parts of the same show. And even though we admire the childlike faith that can expect great things and live unafraid, we have the uneasy feeling that it is only for a special few– and maybe as long as the fear is kept busy and distracted with faith flying around, it will be okay, because we are after all, only human.

But Amy Carmichael’s words keep pulling at me: “…we trust all that the love of God does; all He gives, and all He does not give; all He says, and all He does not say.” Innocent faith of a child receiving whatever comes from the Father’s hands, whether good or bad– and there’s the catch, because if it flows out of His love and He says He is working all things out for my growth and good, then how do I even know where to hang those labels of good and bad? In the words of that brave missionary to India, “The more we understand His love, the more we trust.” Maybe our crisis is not one of faith so much as one of understanding, of accepting love.

I’m starting to accept the notion that I really don’t understand what is best in any situation. Spending the night in a big city airport because we missed our connecting flight? Sleeping in the food court with the homeless people taking shelter from the same storm that messed up our flight schedule? Missing the seminar that we had come for and already paid for? Bad, really bad. Except that the night passed and we were calm; we did sleep a bit, propped up on our luggage, discovered a resilience we did not know we had. And a new heart-awareness of the people who sleep in airports because they want to, who are sturdy survivors and well-prepared for storms because they expect difficulty. Not to mention a reminder that needs are not the same thing as comfort and preference. Maybe good after all?

So then the next time it rains and chaos ensues, with over-turned schedules and masses of people awaiting split-second decisions that should be nothing but bad and stressful, there is this supernatural Stillness in the center of the whirlwind, and I realize that I don’t even know if this is going to be good or bad, I just know His heart. He loves us and He is good, and whatever happens He will help us with it. Like a child who trusts the One who loves him. Oddly finding nothing to juggle any more because He is holding it all. Allowing ourselves to let go, become weak, so that we can recognize the Master of the Universe in His rightful place on the throne.

And the next day the four-year-old says, “Maybe it will rain today and maybe it won’t. Who knows?” Maybe childlike faith expects great things and lives unafraid only because it knows storms will come, and we will stand strong and survive because Someone bigger than the storm loves us. Maybe the rational adult can just choose to lay down his juggling act, admit that it is only a mask for fear and the desire to control, “be still and know [He] is God.”

Not sure yet what surrender fully means, how to live out faith on the inside and on the outside in all circumstances, but I think it may be the lesson we are all learning, in every one of our days from start to finish.  Help me Lord, on this day, to sing with the children in their simple trust: “What are you worried about now– Trying to figure it out now? God knows right where you are now– You know it’s all in His hands now. Give all your worries and your cares to God, For He cares about you…”

 

 

 

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.” (Psalm 46:1-3)

 

 

“…I need You to open my eyes,
To see that You’re shaping my life.
All I am, I surrender.
Give me faith to trust what You say:
That You’re good, and Your love is great.”

(Give Me Faith, Elevation Worship)

 

 

Drawing a Picture of God

Posted on by

It’s sad, really, how we let the circumstances shape our view of God. As if He had not already spent thousands of years revealing Himself in a myriad of tiny details and grand sweeping plans, breathing Words into the hearts of men to speak to us in our own language, even wrapping Himself in flesh to walk among us– all so we could know Him.

And yet, serving gets difficult and we think “Maybe God doesn’t want me to do this any more.” Sickness hangs on and we say “God is punishing me for my sin.” Provision doesn’t come when we ask, and we wonder “Is God listening?…does He care about my need?” And before we realize it, we have looked at the circumstances and drawn our own outlines for who God is, framed Him in with the small scope of our emotions and everyday experience. When I think about it that way, I see the deception from the Garden being acted out all over again: setting how we feel and what we see up higher than what God says.

When serving gets difficult, God says, “And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.” (Colossians 3:17) When sickness lingers and prayers seem unanswered, God says, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned…but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.” (John 9:3) When needs pinch and fear rises, God replies, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?” (Matthew 6:31)

We could blame our faulty arithmetic on a fallen world: two plus two equals four, and doing good should be easy, and what I can see and feel is clearly real…it’s a blind logic that ignores the weight of Divine evidence to the contrary. But how frightening to see my mind conforming to the pattern of this world and ignoring Grace. Devastating to see into even well-meaning hearts and find them fully planted in the center of the universe as if they had a right to be there. As if they had never read God’s own description of who He is, or at least had never let the words soak in deeper than skin.

God talks about that too, of course: “The human heart is the most deceitful of all things, and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is?” (Jeremiah 17:9) He sees into all the twists and turns of my emotions and motivations quite clearly, and will show it to me if I really want to know, really want to change. Times like this make me realize just how amazing Grace is, and how very deep and wide and long God’s love is.

 

“A thousand times I’ve failed–
Still your mercy remains,
And should I stumble again,
I’m caught in your grace.

Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades;
Never ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame;
And the cry of my heart is to bring You praise
From the inside out, O my soul cries out…”
(Inside Out, Hillsong)