*I've been praying a lot lately about how I can best let God use this little life for His glory. It was in those long conversations with God that I realized again how much I love to write... I write hundreds of words a day that are read only by Him, but I've decided to take a step of faith and write words daily to be shared with all of you. I'll still be writing longer posts on a weekly basis, but plan on taking a moment each day to put into words the way my God is shaping my heart to love His...
Dear weary heart, Sometimes we all have this aching deep down that we're never going to be as close to God as we want... that's it is not possible for us to ever walk with God like Enoch. I hear you. I find myself wondering the same more often than I'd like to admit. This morning I pulled up Day One (best journal app ever for IOS) on my computer and typed my admittance to God that once again, I wasn't sure how to be friends with Him. His response was simple. Today I may not see or feel what I've felt in days past but it doesn't change it's reality. Best friends don't always feel a burning affection for the other, but that is no proof that the friendship is not deep and strong. Our inability to always feel God right beside us is not proof that He is not there. His promise is more reliable than our senses. Maybe staying in love is more about believing than seeing. Perhaps for today it all comes down to this... Believe in the invisible. And then open our eyes because we might find that it becomes visible after all. #quietcornerinacrazyworld #dailysoulmoments
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We all have those days where we feel like a failure… When the word “useless" seems to be ringing in our ears so loudly that we cannot silence it. We know we should rise above the doubts but they keep coming like a tsunami and we’re not sure we can keep our head above. Sometimes, if we’re honest, we wonder if we’re even still friends with God. If He really still wants to put up with us or even notice our existence. Or if we’re somehow below the reach of His eyes. While we know with our head that our God loves us, our hearts don’t always seem to embrace the fact. A love like His can seem so magical that we don’t even know it in real experience. Or maybe we thought once that we did and now we’re not so sure. I've been praying about such days of late and how we can let them be trumped by love. Yesterday I opened my Bible to Matthew 11 with a prayer to see the love of my Jesus once again and found myself stunned by what I read. An hour later these were the words penned in my journal. I share them because something tells me this story wasn’t just for me… He sits in a dungeon. Alone. Darkness stealing over every inch of his body. Flies buzz around him, his chains cut deep, and the floor he sits on is hard. But that is the least of his worries tonight. In fact, it has been for awhile. He keeps thinking of the face of the One who is his cousin, but more than that, his one hope. He had given his life to prepare the way for the One. It hadn’t been easy. The standing alone. Being misunderstood. Carrying burdens for the souls of men. After all, he hadn’t been asked to be a disciple. He hadn’t been permitted to spend hours at Jesus’ side. He had less time with Him than many of the people he preached to. Sitting in his cell, the doubts nagged his mind. They had for weeks, but he had determined to resist them. Tonight they called louder than ever. Maybe He isn’t the One. What is He doing to set your people free? What is He doing to set you free? Nothing. Precisely. He hasn’t even visited you. You who did so much for Him. He’s probably forgotten you. How can a man like that be the One? And if He isn’t, all your work was in vain. Pointless. Maybe you didn’t hear the call right in the beginning. Maybe you were supposed to be a normal man with a family. Instead you ended up here. In prison. He didn’t want to listen to these thoughts, but they were driving him crazy and he had to know. Were they true? Was Jesus really the One after all? To find out would take gut-wrenching honesty. After all, he was the one who had led thousands to the Messiah. And now he’s sitting here wondering himself. He takes the plunge and sends two of his followers to Jesus with a simple question. Are you the One who was to come, or should we look for someone else? Jesus doesn’t attack or flip out at such a question. He keeps healing and teaching and eventually sends the men back to tell John what they have seen. But not before sending a message directly for his hurting cousin… Blessed is he who isn’t offended because of me. John hears the words and he smiles. Jesus had sensed the heart of his question. He knew. And He still cared. He’d accepted the hard question and responded with a hard but loving answer. But John did not know all. He didn’t see the love that burned in the heart of his cousin for him. He didn’t hear the words spoken by the Son of God about the one who was battling doubts and feelings of failure. He didn’t know, but we do. Maybe because Jesus knew we needed to know and hear more than John did. Jesus didn’t condemn His cousin to the multitude. He did the opposite. His words echo down the ages into my little heart… What did you come out to the wilderness to see? A weak man? What did you come for? To see a man rich and comfortable? No. Such men live in palaces. So why did you really come? To see a prophet? Yes, but this one was more than a prophet. This was the one who was sent to prepare the ground before me. I’m telling you, of all the men born of women, there is none greater than this one. This one who feels like a failure. This one who is seemingly so distant from Jesus that he wonders if they’re really friends. This one who seems ignored by the God who is his own flesh and blood. This one is loved and honored even when he doesn’t see it. Even after asking gut-wrenching questions. In fact, right in the middle of it. Even when he feels like a failure to the crown. Even when he’s not sure if he believes in a Jesus like this. Even when he wonders if he and God are really friends anymore. This one is loved and honored right then. And so am I. So are you.
It’s been way too long since I’ve written anything here. Being away more than I am home cuts into any free time I may want to write. Of late though, something inside of me has missed this and I’m again compelled to realize that for me, really living and writing are inexplicably tied. So here I am again. :) I’ve been doing a lot of thinking of late about the purpose of a day. We’re all given them. But do we really know what they are for? Honestly, when I think of a day I think of a period of time to complete work. I think of projects, deadlines, and schedules. We’re given days to accomplish things right? I mean, if that’s not what they’re for, what is our life for? Somehow though, those of us with this mindset don’t ever tend to feel like our work is done. Days and projects come and go and somehow we’re always convinced the end is in sight, but find that when we stumble on it, it’s only a mirage. One thing finished always seems to lead to another to be accomplished. I’ve long since known that busyness is one of the biggest things I need to guard against in my own life and I’ve spent years trying to change my tendency to pack my days to overflowing. In some ways I have been successful. I’m learning to say no and not cram my days so full that I have no time for the things that are really important. But the truth of the matter is that if you ask me how I’m doing I’ll still respond with the same answer I’ve been fighting for years. “Busy.” Really, my days are not as packed as they could be. Sure, I still have an unaccomplished to do list in the back of my head, but I’m starting to realize that maybe busyness is not the root of my problem anymore. Maybe it’s a mindset— a misunderstanding of what a day is for. I look around me and I sense that I’m not the only one battling this mindset. It’s predominant in our culture and it’s taking thousands in it’s grip. There is an element of society that sees each day as playtime. The very thought of studying and working is irksome. Why work when you can goof off? Normally though, such mindsets are not esteemed too highly in our accomplishment driven society. I wonder if a lot of us have swung to the other extreme. What if our days weren’t about accomplishment after all? When the first man was given his first day, was it really all about accomplishing things? I’m sitting here trying to imagine Adam running around the garden of Eden in a mad panic because he hadn’t named every animal yet, or mowed all the grass on the hills, or picked enough different kinds of fruit. Seriously? It sounds absurd. Almost sacrilegious. And yet we think it’s ok for us. Maybe Adam was not given the gift of a day to accomplish. He was given the gift of a day to love and learn and grow and give himself to relationships. It was all about being a companion of God… about enjoying the beauty God had surrounded him with and learning as much as he could from the world around him. When did that change? Or did it? Sin came in, but I’ve never read anywhere that the purpose of a day changed. We were given work as a safeguard from evil— as something to healthfully occupy our hands and draw our hearts to God. I can’t help thinking how different that sounds to the kind of work we do now. Aren’t we the ones who are always talking about how busy we are and how it’s hard to have time for God? Wait a minute. If our work was given us so that we wouldn’t slip from His side in an evil world, is it possible that we have turned one of our greatest blessings into one of our greatest curses? When we say we define our days in terms of busyness we admit that we have forgotten the very purpose of those days. When we say we are so busy working that we don’t have time for God, we prove that we no longer understand why we were given work in the first place. I’m preaching to myself here. I can’t say I’m an expert at uprooting a mentality that has gone so deep into our society and my own soul. Most days I don’t know where to start. But I think I’m starting to get a taste, and the more I taste, the more I want. Maybe the most important thing in our day is to be a companion to the One we were made to love. Maybe the very thing we were created for never changed. Because really, where did taking walks with God in the cool of the day become replaced by studying or working long into the night? Maybe what we learn in a day is worth ten times what we accomplish. Maybe stopping to listen to that person who is hurting or reach that need placed in our path is a hundred times more important than our to do list. Maybe we can’t plan every part of our days out. Maybe true joy comes from spontaneous conversations with God and the people He places around us. I can’t help wondering how different we would be if we saw our days as He does. Would we then take time for long and deep conversations with God at unexpected times? Would we learn the lessons He’s been trying to teach us for years but we never even heard because we were too busy to listen? I don’t want to keep wondering. I want to know from personal experience. Because really, maybe we’ll rush through all of our jam-packed days with empty hearts until we learn to lay our busy mindset down and empty our days before Him so that He can fill them with Himself. Something tells me it is then we’ll taste the true blessing of work… then that we’ll experience the real companionship with God that we were made for. Maybe it is only then we will taste the real purpose of a day… and slowly the days will add up and we’ll find the real purpose of our life. To be friends with God. Every day. Every minute. Every second. Jesus, the One who is worthy of all our love, Sometimes we don’t follow You because we think it will be hard, and I guess we’re not up for hard. We want easy and fun. So we try the popular road because that is just what it offers. And after a little while we fall flat on our face like little kids who have stumbled on a rock as they play. We get all torn up and broken because the world doesn’t turn out to have the things they advertised. And if they don’t, who in the world possibly could? So we lie there on our faces bruised and bloodied. We think that following You is all about rules. Somehow we get it stuck in our heads that Your laws are a bunch of do’s and don’ts and why would we want a life of that? Sometimes we feel so empty on our own that we try to do things right again. We try to live by the rules. We try to spend time with You. I think some of us get stuck there for years… sometimes lifetimes. Others of us can’t handle that kind of life. We want something more. And whether we look for it in the world, or by trying to keep all the rules we somehow always end up tripped up on our faces. Broken. I think some of us have become convinced that is the only way to live. But right when we think there is no hope, this gentle Hand reaches down and touches us on the shoulder. It’s You. And Your face is the kindest face we’ve ever seen. Your smile has a certain gentleness in it that wins a part of our hearts that we didn’t even know existed. You pick us up off our faces and then sit us down and put Your arm around us and tell us that You love us. That You have for all eternity. That You hadn’t been able to bear the thought of life without us and that is why You had come and been torn to pieces. So we wouldn’t have to. You whisper that we don’t have to live empty and broken on our faces. That there’s more than the world has to offer. And even-- more than just keeping the rules and going to church like good people. That both fall far short of what You really made us for. You say it gentle— that You made us for love. To love You. To be loved by You. And we reel. Awed and shocked that something so unbelievable can exist. That the One we thought was a distant authority figure in the sky actually just wants our hearts. That He’d come down here and be with us. We don’t understand, but we say yes. Because how can we say no to an offer like that? We slowly start opening up. All those dirty secrets buried in our little hearts start to come out before You. We start to tell You everything, because the more we open up the more deeply we come to know Your love. It seems unbelievable that You’d still care after You hear our stories. But somehow the more we tell You, the more You seem to care. It’s the craziest paradox we’ve ever known. But then this whole thing is. We always thought that You wanted to control us, but then You came along and simply loved us. And somehow our hearts are so captured that we start doing all those things we knew You wanted but we hadn’t been willing to do before. And now it doesn’t even seem so hard because of the love burning in our little hearts. We always thought it was the world that offered fun and happiness but now we find it at the place we’d least expected… in Your arms. Instead of being a place of restrictions it turns out to be the freest and happiest place in the world. We burst with joy and we can’t help but share how You won our rebellious little hearts and made us Your friends. We think this is it for eternity. But sooner or later, everything comes caving in. Doubts pull at our hearts and try to convince us You aren’t as loving as you say. Fear tears us apart. Pain breaks our hearts— the hearts that we thought would never break again. And all our little dreams? Well, You keep asking for them too. We hadn’t expected this and we question and tremble. But eventually we begin to let go and give everything back to You. We realize that the one and only thing worth holding onto is our relationship with You. And so while we may cry as we lay all our treasures on the altar, something inside of us still sings because we have You. Somewhere along the journey, though, we start fighting battles we never would have expected. The devil ambushes us and attacks and we’re surprised. We’ve fought him before… we’ve fought battles of surrendering our selfishness, our little dreams, our pride, our love of anything but You. But these battles are different. These are for something deeper and more mysterious. It’s at times like this that I can’t help but think of Much-Afraid and the question the Shepherd asked her. "Do you love me enough to be able to trust me completely, Much-Afraid? …Would you be willing to trust me even if everything in the wide world seemed to say that I was deceiving you— indeed, that I had deceived you all along? He said nothing for a little, only looked down very tenderly, almost pitifully at the figure now crouching at his feet. Then, after a time, He said very quietly, Much-Afraid, supposing I really did deceive you? What then? It was then her turn to be quite silent, trying to grasp this impossible thing He was suggesting and to think what her answer would be. What then? Would it be that she could never trust, never love him again? Would she have to be alive in the world where there was no Shepherd, only a mirage and a broken lovely dream? To know that she had been deceived by one she was certain could not deceive? To lose Him? Suddenly she burst into a passion of weeping, then after a little while looked straight up into His face and said, My Lord— if you can deceive me, you may. It can make no difference. I must love you as long as I continue to exist. I cannot live without loving you. He laid his hands on her head, then with a touch more tender and gentle than anything she had ever felt before, repeated as though to himself, If I can, I may deceive her. Then without another word he turned and went away." It’s not that You’d ever deceive us. But sometimes I think you ask such questions because You want to know if our love is deep enough to pay any price. Sometimes you ask for surrenders that seem utterly crazy to our minds. You ask us to give up things we thought You’d promised all along. You ask us to fight battles when we thought it was time for rest. And we’re tempted to think You must not really care after all. That maybe it’s all been a mirage.
But somewhere up high you look down, the same tender friend You’ve always been, with tears in Your eyes—hoping, waiting while you hold Your breath to see how much we are willing to give up because we love You. You aren’t far removed like we fear. Even in our most joyful moments in Your arms, You were never closer than now. We’re normally the ones with the questions, but I think that behind all these battles to surrender and love You through the dark, are some questions You have. How deep is your love really? How much are you willing to lay down for me? Will you love me even if I strip you of everything you ever wanted, even your expectations of what friendship with me will give you? Are you really willing to follow all the way? Even when what I ask makes no sense? Oh Jesus. How can we say anything but yes to our best Friend? The One who won us in the beginning. And so we fight. We hold on through battles we never thought we would be strong enough to face. We choose to love when we’re not even sure what promises You’re fulfilling and what ones You’re asking us to give up. We can’t see the ground we walk on. That’s why we cling to faith. Honestly, we’re not always sure what it means to follow anymore. Sometimes we fail. We let the enemy win and we crumple confused on the ground. We wonder if we’ve really changed at all since the very beginning. But then we remember the way you sat us down and told us You loved us and won our hearts, and we. just. cannot. give. up. We stand back up and keep fighting. Because we love You. We lay down every hope. Because we love You. We are willing to fight every remaining moment of our lives and die on the battlefield if necessary. Because we love You. Sometimes, God, we don’t understand this journey. Actually, a lot of the time. But You’ve captured our hearts. And we can’t stop walking it. Even if You take everything. Even if You were to deceive us. We can’t live without loving You. You’ve spoiled us for any other life. And we wouldn’t want it any other way. We don’t know where you’re taking us, but we just want You to know… We echo with Ruth… Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the LORD do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me. We’re in for the long haul, Jesus. March has always been a special month for me. For almost as long as I can remember, our traveling season started at the beginning of April. The weeks before have always been special days to connect with Jesus and let Him search my heart to prepare me for ministry. I was reading old journals the other day and couldn’t help but be struck by how much the last year has altered my view of ministry… I go into this year with a very different perspective than in the past. Ever since I gave Him my heart, I’ve burned with a passion to share what I’ve found with those who haven’t tasted it yet. Ministry became my focus and what I lived and breathed for. Deep down I had this restlessness that I had to do more and more and more. The fact that children die of starvation, youth are so empty that they end their own lives, and hundreds of adults die everyday without ever hearing the name Jesus always stirred me to the core. Part of me felt like I could never be satisfied without giving my life for those people. Even before I was a teen I remember swinging between feeling guilty that I didn’t do more, and feeling like there was nothing I could do and thus there was no point thinking about it. I heard over and over again that we have to be content with the work that lies nearest before God can use us on a broader scale, and it never really made sense to me. How could I be content while children die? How could I enjoy my plenty while others had nothing? I remember countless family discussions where I insisted that there must be more I could do. More I should do. At first I just wanted to travel and share more here in my homeland. Then came this burning to go overseas, to the darkest corner of the globe, and give my life for hearts who didn’t know Jesus. I would look at my school books, my algebra, and wonder how I could spend so many hours learning this stuff when some kids never even got chance to learn because hunger had already taken their lives. And when I got to college, I couldn’t help feeling guilty that I was spending money to study something I loved so much when some kids never even had the opportunity to get to high school. Walking down our little country road I often pondered the two lives I thought I could live. I could carry on taking my degree in counseling, marry and have my own happy family and settle down to a comfortable life of service here in the states. Or, I could leave it all behind and run to some remote part of Africa and cuddle dirty orphans. I could feed hungry mouths and touch hurting hearts who didn’t know Jesus. Sure, I might never graduate from college or get married and I might die early from disease, but it would be worth it. I wanted to sacrifice and live the second life and I struggled with the fact that I couldn’t seem to make it happen. The battle raged in my mind ever since I was about 11, until last spring. The more the years went by the more intense the struggle became until I knew I had to find answers. Last March, one friend shared with me his own journey through the same waters and how he was learning contentment with God and His will… his thoughts hit me between the eyes and I remember sitting on the grass outside our house and begging God to help me understand... To help me see where my perspective was warped. That day He did answer, and it was actually pretty simple... He gently helped me realize that I didn’t have to carry the whole world. I couldn’t. I couldn’t hold every hand or touch every heart or feed every mouth. But what I could do was follow the plan He had layed out for my life. Even when that felt desperately mundane. Even when I felt like I was accomplishing nothing. Maybe it wasn’t an option of living one life or the other… maybe the option was to live the life He had planned for me. Whatever that entailed. Whatever that didn’t entail. But throughout the year He taught me something even deeper... I started to realize that my whole mindset about ministry was warped. For years my heart was more consumed with ministry and my duty to people than it was with my Jesus and my duty to Him. In many ways, ministry had more of my heart than He did. I have to wonder if we live in a generation where it is more popular to be dedicated to ministry than dedicated to Jesus… where it is seen as more admirable to pour ourselves into people than to pour out our love at Jesus feet... where it is deemed more successful to live a life of constant ministry activity, than to quietly adore Jesus. I wonder if we have come to think that being a Christian means working for God, more than it means loving God. It reminds me of girl who gave everything she had to purchase an extravagant gift for her Jesus… a girl who spent an inordinate amount of money to buy perfume for the One she loved. A girl who knelt at His feet and washed them with her tears and dried them with her hair. It reminds me of a disciple who scolded that the money should have been given to the poor… and a Jesus who quietly affirmed the love shown by the extravagant gift of His friend. Maybe her story is a gentle reminder to this generation that before we pour ourselves out in ministry, we must pour out our love on Jesus. Maybe our best energies, our deepest love, our most loyal affections, should be given to loving Jesus not running around trying to win the world. Because what if God can only use us the most powerfully in ministry when we have first become consumed with Him? Sitting on the grass that day last March, He finally got through to me. My responsibility is not to save the world. My job is not to carry guilt for not being able to prevent famine and death. My job is not to spend my days running around trying to do everything. My job is to love Jesus most. My job is to enter into His pain for a dying world and be willing to do whatever He asks of me. My job is to trust He knows what life is best for me and to live that out day by day. His gentle words that day stilled the battle that had been raging in my heart for years. But it would take a year of learning and failing for the lesson to completely get through to me. Because the thing is, this mindset that it is holier to run around for God than to sit still with Him is hard to break. It isn’t so popular to say no to some ministry opportunity so that we can sit in the quiet and open up our hearts to Jesus. But it is desperately necessary. We will never change the world when changing it is our primary focus. We must first learn what it means to love Jesus most. To be willing to live out our love in obscurity. To be content to be His friend in the mundane. Because sometimes it is actually a greater sacrifice to be willing to stay right here in the middle of our ordinary life and throw all our love onto Jesus than to run off to some dark corner of Africa. The truly brave person is not just the one who goes to the mission field and gives their life. The servant who is content to do the most mundane tasks here while their heart still aches in unison with His for the ones dying overseas is just as brave. There’s a certain beauty about feeling what the heart of God feels, just to understand Him, even when we know we can’t jump on a plane this minute. Last year He starting bringing me to the place where I was just as content to stay at home and love Him best as I would be to travel the country or even the world doing ministry. For the first time in years I didn’t feel guilty that I couldn’t be everywhere and do everything. My heart was at peace because I knew I could finally trust my best Friend to use me where He needed me. And if that wasn’t at all, then I could be happy to live my life as flower in His garden that was purely for His pleasure. None of this means that ministry is not important. It is one of the greatest gifts ever given to humanity. But we can only change the world when we are more concerned about loving Jesus than we are running around for Him. We only reach our true potential in ministry when every single thing we do is for Jesus, with Jesus, and because we love Jesus. We only change the world when we are content to just be His friend. And something tells me that the only people who have ever really changed the world for Him are the ones who truly were His friends. He can’t use us to the full until we are willing to not be used at all. And often He waits till that very moment, and then He opens doors we never would have dreamed of. It’s March again and I’m about to head into the most packed year of ministry I’ve ever experienced. Don’t even ask me how many more days I’ll be at home between now and the end of the year. It would have to be measured in weeks not months. Because you know what? The minute I abandoned myself to loving Him and being content to do nothing more if He so desired, He started to fill up my schedule with more ministry than I ever dreamed of. Funny how He works like that. This year as I let Him prepare me, it’s with very different realizations… My focus is not to do great things for Him, run around for Him, carry the world on my shoulders, or try and fight His battles. My focus is to love Him. I want to be still before Him and open up my heart no matter where I am. I want to take the time to listen to His heart and catch His quiet whispers that I would miss if were trying to carry the world. I want to live for an audience of One. I want to always be willing to be used. But more than that, I want to be willing to just be a flower in His garden. To say no when He asks it of me. If He decides to send me to the ends of the earth, I am willing to go. But for right now, I want to do the work He has given me with all my heart and pour out all my love at His feet. I don’t want to be a hero. I just want to be His friend. I think every human heart has this tendency to self-dependance and wanting to be in control. At least this one does. It seems that everyday I see just how much deeper this root goes. I remember three years ago sitting in our little fifth wheel a few months after we’d moved to Arizona and fighting back frustration at my failed attempts at control… Truth is, there was very little control I did have on my schedule in that tiny space. Try cramming a family of four, two cats, a harp, cello, piano and ministry office into a fifth wheel for six months. Yeah, or maybe don’t. My frustration was building in those moments when I couldn’t go to bed when I wanted to or have quiet for study when I needed it. None of us could in such cramped quarters. It wasn’t till I fell into bed one night, frustrated and confused, that He gently brought the truth to my mind. I was trying to be in control of my life and it wasn’t working. But actually, I wasn’t ever supposed to be in control of my life. It was always supposed to be Him. It was a lesson I hadn’t really grasped before. But the instant I let Him have the reigns, everything changed inside of me. Some lessons though, take years to get to the deepest parts of our hearts… I’m still learning this one. The battle now is different but the root is similar. He’s won my heart in deeper ways and there is nothing in the universe I want more than to be in love with Him every single day and to live every moment together. But you know something? Sometimes we try and undertake even the most noble goal on our own. And that always produces frustration. Or in this case, fear. Because no matter how hard I try to keep falling in love with Him, it doesn’t really work… It doesn’t work because love for God in a human heart is a miracle, and hello, I can’t do miracles. Pretty obvious really. But somehow the devil has kidded us that we can do things on our own. Sure there are some things (often the big things) we know we need God for. Then there’s those other things we’re pretty sure we can manage. We read Jesus’ words when He said that “I can of mine own self do nothing” and somehow we still believe there are some things we can do ourselves. How in the world? We think we can do things that Jesus admitted He couldn’t do? Truth is, none of the devil’s lies make sense when we think of them in light of the truth. But often we don’t do that. And so, more often than I’d like to admit, I find myself taking my relationship with Jesus into my own hands and trying to read my Bible enough and take time to talk with Jesus enough so that I can fall in love with His heart. And it doesn’t work. Which of course gives the enemy a perfect chance to throw in another lie about how I’m not good enough and I’ll never love Him enough and He must not care about me, and yeah. You know them. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one he’s whispered them too. The truth is pretty simple actually. We don’t do miracles. We don’t change our hearts. We can’t turn our apathy into love. He does. Miracles have long been His business. And He’s pretty good at them if you ask me. Our part isn’t to try creating love in our hearts. He’s the only Creator after all. Our role is to respond to His pursuing love. Letting Him be in control doesn’t mean doing nothing. It just means being content to listen and obey instead of trying to be in charge. It means responding. For me that means lying in bed before I fall asleep and having whispered conversations with my best Friend while I watch stars out my window, instead of spending that time on Facebook. It means getting up an hour earlier to sit on my bed and type prayers to the One who was up waiting for me. It means putting my day in His hands instead of rushing off into a rat race of business that pushes Him aside and then freaking out at the end of the day because He feels so far away. It means pulling out my Bible and filling my mind with truth so that the lies loose their power. It means stopping that project that feels so important to look walk down our little road and tell Him about my day. It means taking time every week to go down to my meadow and spend a couple hours just with Jesus. But sometimes what is harder is what it doesn’t mean. It doesn’t mean worrying. It doesn’t mean trying to be enough or do enough. Most of all, it doesn’t mean being in control. And for us little control junkies that can be pretty hard at times. Yesterday I was sitting out in my meadow looking up into perfectly blue skies in deep thought. On this very point actually. I knew what He was asking… He wanted me to let go of trying to be in control. He wanted me to let Him do the miracles instead of trying to do them myself. Pretty reasonable request. And it was then I realized in a deeper way what holds us back.
We don’t trust Him. My thoughts were a frantic jumble. If I let go, we’ll just drift apart. If I stop worrying about staying close to You, how is it ever going to happen? If I give up trying to do this, who will? Simple answer, “Me.” But how do I know you will? How do I know it really matters to you like it matters to me? I knew as soon as I said it that it was a silly question. Isn’t the One who made me for companionship, who formed my heart to love Him, who gave His very life so that we could be friends forever, safe to be trusted? And yet so often we doubt. We run back into life and try to do things ourselves and end up a crumbled mess of failure. Meantime, Someone watches, desperate for a chance to show us what victory tastes like. The One who can do absolutely anything is limited when we insist on trying ourselves. The One who has never lost is forced to sit by and watch us loose and come to Him crying that we’re a failure. We complain that we don’t see miracles in our day. Maybe if we want to see them it’s time to start trusting the One who works miracles. Maybe it’s time to start letting Him work them. The sunlight glints in my eyes and I whisper it to open fields, to waiting God. I’ll let go. You can do this. I’ll just obey. And I wonder… Maybe we’ll only see Him do miracles in this generation when we stop trying to work them ourselves. I want to step out the way and give Him a chance. Jesus, I woke up this morning and I remembered... it was five years ago today. I’ve always been one for remembering dates. I love to look back at the journey You’ve led me on. It always leaves me in awe. This morning was no exception. I remember being so awed on my baptism weekend at the ways You had worked in my heart up until that point. I remember telling a dear friend that I felt like a different person to the little girl I’d been a few years before. You were changing my selfishness into a love for right… my self-dependance into a recognition of my need for You… my little world of pretend missionary exploits into a realization that I could actually serve You in real life. I remember the surealness of that day and wanting to pinch myself into realizing that this was really happening… that You had really given me the courage to stand up and tell the world what You’d been doing in my heart in the years preceding. I remember the conversation around the piano that evening and how we had somehow started looking at our globe and the many countries that didn’t know anything about You. I remember listening to my friends’ excitement about how we could share our love for You and determining deep down that I wanted to be a missionary— whether that was here in the states or abroad. It really was the most special Sabbath of my life. This morning I went back and watched the video of that day (if you want a quick glimpse click here). And again I was awed as I looked back. Five years ago I was amazed at the ways You had changed my little heart. Honestly, today I am even more amazed at the way You have changed my heart since then. How could I have ever known that You would allow trials to come a few months later that I didn’t understand or know how to deal with but that in the darkness I would learn a deeper level of commitment than I ever could have learned in the light? How could I know that our move away from everything that was familiar would stretch me far beyond my comfort zone but cause me to lean on Your arm in a way I had never done before? How could I have expected the joy and love for people I would find half way around the world ministering with my family when sickness had half of us in bed? What would I have thought if I had known that after my prayers to go deeper than ever I would be surprised with an illness recurring from when I was little that would leave me utterly exhausted and often in pain for seven months but teach me a trust in You that endured the most painful of days? How could I have understood the contradictions of pain and joy that ministry would bring… of emptiness and fullness… and the ways You would lead me so gently to understand Your real purpose for me and that being a missionary didn’t mean half the things I thought and a hundred things I didn't? How could I have ever dreamed of the way You would win my heart and my love beyond my wildest imaginations and that life would turn into a beautiful journey with my best Friend? Truth is, I couldn’t know. And I’m glad. I think it would have been a bit much for my 14 year old mind to comprehend. One thing I know now. Your plans were perfect and I wouldn’t have them any other way. I look back and it strikes me how much I didn’t know. How much I hadn’t experienced. How much of Your heart I didn’t even know existed. And I have to wonder where I’ll be in five years time. How much of You there is still to find that I don’t know about… how much deeper there is to fall in love than I could even dream right now. I don’t have to know. I’ve seen enough to know I want to sign up for every last little bit of it. That while my future may remain unknown, I can look at my past and see so many fingerprints of grace that there need be no fear for the future. Whatever storms come… Whatever trials… Whatever illnesses… Whatever mountaintops… Whatever valley floors… You see them. And You see me. And You know. I don’t have to. So Jesus, sign me up. Your ways are beyond my understanding. That you would want to take a little rascal and turn her into your little princess is beyond me. Of everything you have done in the last five years, your wild love and friendship to a girl like me amaze me most. I don’t understand it. Or why you chose to pursue me. But I love it. I love you. And you’ve won my heart lock stock and barrel. Here’s to another five years… to a lifetime together… no matter what darts the devil throws. Because you first loved me. Forever your little girl. The week brings a New Year. I feel like it was only a minute ago that we were beginning the last one or the one before. Time seems to be flying quicker and quicker. Sometimes I think though that as the time flies a flame inside of us quietly dies. The flame of our first love. It’s strange how time does that… how weeks dull the intensity of emotions— good or bad. I wonder if the only way to never loose that first love is to experience it every day? Maybe the coming new year would be a good year to learn how to do that. To learn to fall in love again. Everyday. Maybe it’s time to look back over the lessons of the last year and remember, lest they too grow dull… To determine what we want for the year ahead in light of the lessons from the past. I want to come to Jesus in every struggle instead of waiting until I realize I can never do it alone. I want to see who He really is. To let Him be Himself instead of trying to be the one in control. I want to let go of my striving to change my own heart and let Him melt me with His love in ways I couldn’t have predicted or produced. I want to ask Him what is my part— for His advice— and do it immediately instead of trying all my own ideas. I want to remember He always always comes before people. That my duty to Him will forever be most important. I want to see ministry through His eyes. To act on a love like His, not merely a sense of obligation. I want to open my heart and tell Him about it’s deepest corners. I want to be completely honest with God 365 days a year. I want to read my Bible with Him every single day. I want to immediately give Him any fear or guilt I may have instead of fighting them alone. I want to live slow and full. To not let the word busy describe my life but instead the word beautiful. I want to count gifts everyday. To live with hands open and a heart of gratitude. I want to trust Him. I want to put Him first in my affections and time. Always. I want to love Him with every ounce that is in me. I want to fall in love again every single day. I want our relationship to be fresh and never stale. I want to walk with Him like Enoch did. Whatever it costs me. Whatever treasures He deems must be removed… Whatever plans canceled. Whatever longings unfulfilled by things here that they may be filled with things above. Whatever heartache He knows I must endure to be drawn to His heart… It’s been burning in me of late… this longing to have nothing but Jesus. To be laid low if it means I can be drawn closer to His feet. To have my heart torn to shreds if those shreds can then be held closer to His own. To walk through the furnace if it can make my love for Him burn hotter. To be stripped of every treasure I posses if that is the way for me to treasure the greatest Treasure of all. To let go of any expectations I may have for this life if I can just have more and more and more of Jesus. Really, there isn’t time for anything less. There’s a whole world out there dying to know our Jesus. There’s a whole heaven up there aching to have us with them and bring an end to sin and suffering. New year after new year comes and we have dreams but somehow they don’t always translate into reality. I have to wonder… what is it going to take? How much longer are we going to be here living our life as usual and prolonging the process of sin and death because we aren’t ready? How much longer is His heart going to have to break because He misses us, and He wants us, and He loves us, but we don’t want Him? Jim Elliot puts it so powerfully… "We are so utterly ordinary, so commonplace, while we profess to know a Power the Twentieth Century does not reckon with. But we are 'armless,' and therefore unharmed. We are spiritual pacifists, non-militants, conscientious objectors in this battle-to-the-death with principalities and powers in high places. Meekness must be had for contact with men, but brass, outspoken boldness is required to take part in the comradeship of the Cross. We are ‘ sideliners' -- coaching and criticizing the real wrestlers while content to sit by and leave the enemies of God unchallenged. The world cannot hate us, we are too much like its own. Oh that God would make us dangerous!” Oh my soul. Maybe the world too can see when time dulls our first love. Maybe the all of heaven is praying for us to find our first love again. What if this year everything changed? What if this year we fell on our knees and begged to see the face of our Jesus? What if we really did fall in love everyday? What if we really were His friends, and we really lived like it? What if we were willing to bear any loss or pain if we could have more of Him? What if we walked with Him like Enoch did? What if we realized that was possible and it wasn’t just a story in the old testament, it was a story for now and for us? What if we didn’t just talk about it, but we really chose to do it? I’m pretty sure we could change the world… that He could change the world through us because we walked so close to His heart. We could be a generation of Enochs. And maybe in the end it could be said of us… “And the last generation walked with God. And they were not; for God took them.” Something about his life hit home to my heart. Maybe because I want to have open hands to whatever Jesus gives like He did… because I want to love Jesus like he did. And maybe because I know deep down that it won’t be easy. Here is his story… ————————————————————————————-- His name was Joseph Scriven and he lived in Ireland. His future was bright with promise… in one day he was going to marry his best friend. That evening he was headed to meet her for a few moments together before the sun went down and their beautiful day began. He was riding up to the spot they were supposed to meet when he saw men pulling a body from the nearby creek. His heart skipped a beat. As he got closer he realized he was looking down into the lifeless face of the girl he loved and planned to marry the next day. Something had scared her horse as she rode to meet him and she had been thrown from it and lost consciousness when she landed in the stream. She had drowned only moments before he had arrived. Joseph was heartbroken. He was left alone to grieve the day he had dreamed of but never was. He couldn’t bring himself to stay in Ireland. The memories were too sharp. In the end, his travels led him to Canada where he began giving himself away for the poorest of the poor. Somehow through all of his achingly heartbreaking story he had come to lean deeply on his Friend he loved more than anything else. Instead of hardening his heart, his pain propelled him toward His Jesus. He shared the innermost pain of his broken heart with that Friend and his honesty bound them together. Joseph traveled around Canada serving the least of these. He tutored the children of poor families and cut their wood. A man once observed how well he did his work and commented to a friend, “that looks like a sober man. I think I’ll hire him to cut wood for me.” The response from the man was simple, “that’s Joseph Scriven. He wouldn’t cut wood for you because you can afford to hire him. He only cuts wood for those who don’t have money enough to pay.” The people of the area highly regarded this man who walked with God in the most mundane chores and the deepest pain. While he was tutoring the children of a family in the area he met the family’s niece and they fell in love. Soon after they joyfully announced their plans to get married and once again Joseph had a human companion to share his life with. His heart must have soared with gratefulness. But a few weeks before the wedding, 23 year old Elisa fell ill with pneumonia. Despite Joseph’s gentle nursing, she died two weeks before the wedding. It’s hard to even imagine his grief. He had lost the love of his life again. His dreams lay shattered at his feet— again. But somehow this drew him even closer to his Friend— his best Friend… the one who would never leave… the one who heard every pain in his heart. Somehow He didn’t grow bitter with anger. His hands remained open to grace in the darkest of days. Joseph fell ill some years later, and while a friend was visiting him he happened across a poem Joseph had written for his mother several years before. He was so moved by the poem he asked him about it. Joseph said simply, “The Lord and I did it between us.” His poem became a song. And the song became famous, reminding generations of What A Friend We Have in Jesus. All because of one man who realized how beautiful and compassionate his Jesus was and made him his best Friend and all in all… ————————————————————————————————————————-- It’s easier in this world of disappointment and ache to close our hands to grace. At least it is for me. I begin to see the clouds and raindrops and miss the rainbow in my life that come because of them. I start to see things as my right. And when a loving Hand removes them I feel cheated of what I thought was mine. It hit me again a few nights ago as I begged God to show me how I had lost perspective... The title of a friend’s blog came to mind, and with it an instant recognition of what I had forgotten… Hands Open. Heart Full. I’d neglected the one, and without the first the second won’t come. I reread the conversation of one of my favorite modern authors with her brother-in-law and I remember… “Sometimes I think of that story in the Old Testament. Can’t remember what book, but you know—when God gave King Hezekiah fifteen more years of life? Because he prayed for it? But if Hezekiah had died when God first intended, Manasseh would never have been born. And what does the Bible say about Manasseh? Something to the effect that Manasseh had led the Israelites to do even more evil than all the heathen nations around Israel. Think of all the evil that would have been avoided if Hezekiah had died earlier, before Manasseh was born. I am not saying anything, either way, about anything. Just that maybe … maybe you don’t want to change the story, because you don’t know what a different ending holds. Maybe … I guess … it’s accepting there are things we simply don’t understand. But He does.” It’s true. The only way to really live full in this broken world is to be content with Jesus alone. To open up our hands and heart to whatever He offers— to Himself. To keep our hands open when He takes away our treasures because really He is our greatest treasure and we’re willing to loose anything to gain more of Him. Christmas is often a time of gifts and expectations. But really, our expectations kill our joy. And Christmas was never about what we could get. It was all about what He could give. When we see all the world as rightfully ours and any loss as deprivation, our perspective is warped. But when we see every gift as a grace we don’t deserve… when every thing we receive is an unexpected blessing because we know rightfully none of it is ours… when we see every loss as a treasure because it brings us closer to our Jesus… then we see right. Then we live with hands open and our heart is filled. When I open up my hands and heart I am opening myself up to be drawn closer to Jesus than I ever could be when I keep my fists clenched. I'm learning to see disappointment and shattered hopes as a call to draw near to Jesus.
And when I do, I am given the greatest gift of all… the gift of friendship with Jesus. A friendship that can stand any drowned dreams, dark days, and dying plans. He’s the Friend Scriven wrote about…. and He is greater than any gift we could ever have held in our clenched fists. What a friend we have in Jesus, All our sins and griefs to bear! What a privilege to carry Everything to God in prayer! O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear, All because we do not carry Everything to God in prayer. Have we trials and temptations? Is there trouble anywhere? We should never be discouraged; Take it to the Lord in prayer. Can we find a friend so faithful Who will all our sorrows share? Jesus knows our every weakness; Take it to the Lord in prayer. Are we weak and heavy laden, Cumbered with a load of care? Precious Savior, still our refuge; Take it to the Lord in prayer. Do thy friends despise, forsake thee? Take it to the Lord in prayer! In his arms he'll take and shield thee; Thou wilt find a solace there. We’ve all heard the Christmas Story so many times and sometimes I think we gloss over it and miss the impossibility… the cost… the beauty. I’ve seen it in a new way this year and it’s awed me. This story is not a little fairy tale for children. It’s the story that saves our lives. Mary couldn’t have been that old, probably a teen, when it was arranged for her to marry Joseph. We don’t know if she really knew Joseph, but certainly their marriages back then didn’t role out the way they do today. There was no love at first sight weddings, but a simple arrangement by the parents. It had to have been an exciting but unsettling time. Everything was changing. And then, in the middle of all that an angel appears to her with the most unusual message. You will conceive a Son by the Holy Spirit and His name will be called Jesus. He will be great… the son of the Highest. God will give Him the throne of David and His kingdom will never end. And your elderly cousin Elisabeth-- she too has conceived and will have a son. I can’t even imagine what must have been going through her young mind. I’m going to have a baby? How can I have a baby since I am a virgin? How can my elderly aunt be having a baby? And what does the angel mean by saying my baby is the son of the Highest? Won’t He be my Son? But He will take David’s throne and His kingdom will last forever… He must be the Messiah. My baby— the Messiah. With her mind whirling she set off to see her cousin Elisabeth. Her heart must have trembled as she got closer. God, let Elisabeth be pregnant as the angel said. And then there she was... Elisabeth with her own little one growing inside of her. She runs to meet Mary, her face a huge smile. Blessed am I that the mother of my Lord has come to visit me. As soon as I heard your voice the baby I carry leaped for joy within me. And somehow I think the glow in Mary’s heart shone out of her face too. As she felt the little One she carried growing, Mary must have been stirred with awe and joy. But somehow I think there must have been some fear too. How will my family believe this when I return home? What will Joseph think? How can anyone understand? Nothing like this has ever happened before. Why would anyone believe it has happened to me? Will Joseph make an accusation that could cause me to be stoned? After all, that is the law. How will I escape such a fate? But then, how could something like this happen to me when my Baby will have a kingdom that will last forever? God’s plans for this Baby must be greater than any danger we will face. After three months Mary knew it was time to go home, so she bid Elisabeth and Zechariah goodbye. The moment had come. The moment to stand firmly for her belief in the words of the angel. We don’t know how God intervened for the girl He had chosen to bear His son, but we know He did. Her life was spared. The life of her baby was spared. The looks from condemning neighbors still stung, but deep down she knew she had been given a gift no one could even understand. And Joseph-- he must have been heartbroken. What now? How could he claim this child as his own when he knew that would be a lie? How could he take a girl like this when he was a man of honor? He took the only route he knew… quietly break off the engagement without putting Mary to shame. And with that, every hope he must had for their life together was broken too. On the other hand, Mary was left alone to face the pain of not being believed. But God knew. He had more in store than the two young hearts could ever have dreamed. He sent His angel to Joseph in the night… Joseph, don’t be afraid to make Mary your wife. The baby she carries is hers by the Holy Ghost. She will have a Son who’s name will be Jesus. He will be a Savior to His people lost in sin. Joseph must have jerked awake in awe. This is exactly what Mary told me. It must be true. Maybe the future is brighter than I ever dared to dream. How can He have chosen me to be the father of His Son? What will it be like? What will He be like? I can only imagine what a reassurance it was to Mary to hear that her now husband-to-be had heard the same message from the angel that she had. She would have someone to share this journey with who understood and believed. It wasn't very long after his dream that Mary and Joseph were married and the decree came to return to the land where they were born for a census. A journey this far into her pregnancy couldn't have been anything but a heavy thought for Mary. I don’t know if she knew the prophesy that the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem but if she did, her heart must have been awed at the ways God was bringing His word to pass. What else might the future bring? While we don’t know exactly what route they took, we know their journey was long and arduous. With no modern transportation Joseph had to walk the whole way leading the donkey for Mary to ride on. They had many quiet hours to ponder and discuss the awesome and unknown future they were stepping into… By the time they saw Bethlehem in the distance, Joseph was very weary. But his concern was for Mary. She desperately needed a place to rest— a place to give birth to their little One. He ran from inn to inn but none had room for the tired travelers. Finally someone showed them the stable… the place where the animals rest. They settled down into the little spot that would be mentioned in carol after carol until the close of time. The time had come. Mary’s labor begun and before they knew it a little cry pierced the silence of the night. The cry of the King Himself. Their baby was born. The baby for all mankind. Meanwhile, they were clueless to what God was doing only a few miles away. The shepherds in the fields nearby were longing for the Messiah. In their nights of watching they would hope and pray for His coming and then hope and pray some more. This night as they watched their sheep the darkness was suddenly pierced by a bright light. The angel told them simply that the Messiah was born and that they would find Him in a manger wrapped in grave clothes. The heavens rung with a song that echoed so loud that earth couldn't help but hear it. While Mary and Joseph gazed into the eyes of their little boy in awe, shepherds drew nigh. The couple heard a stir and looked up. What can this be? Men approaching the stable? At night? Why are they kneeling? Bowing in fact? Is it because of our baby? How do they know? Did the angel come to them too? This really is for real. Maybe His kingdom is starting already. Little do they know this is only the beginning. As their little One was born a star of angels hovered over Bethlehem... Hundreds of miles away, men of great wisdom in the east had been tracking the stars and noticed this new star they had never seen that drew them to the prophesies of the Messiah. Convinced that this star had something to do with His birth they set out on a long journey to find Him. As they drew closer they saw the star hover over Bethlehem. This must be the place. If shepherds who came earlier were shocking, wise men must have been even more so. How did these men like kings know who our son is? Why do these great men bow down to a baby? Our Jesus must be greater than even we imagined… God must have opened heaven and poured it out in this gift. Oh Mary and Joseph, He did. He did. And sometimes we forget. We forget what a story this really is. We forget we wouldn’t even have eternity if it wasn’t for this story. Our future would be nothing if He hadn’t made Himself nothing. This time of year isn’t just for Christmas trees and Jingle Bells and red ornaments and snow. This time of year springs from a story of pain, and blood, and tears, and joy, and heartache, and grace that is our salvation. This time of year is because our Jesus loved us so much that He couldn’t bear to think of living His future without us, and so He gave Himself. It cost Him pain and blood and tears too. His little baby face lay in the manger because He loved us, not to the moon and back-- but to the earth and back. And so often we get consumed in the sparkle and the glitter of Christmas and forget to love Him above every other thing in the entire universe. We get distracted by all the gifts He gives and place our love on them and forget that He is the greatest Gift. We celebrate the joy but we forget the pain it cost Him. But this Jesus of ours… He counted it worth it because He valued our companionship more than His own life. He wrote an impossible story in which He gave Himself because it was His dream to make it possible to be friends with us once again.
And I have just one question this Christmas... Will we write the ending to this impossible story by saying yes to His friendship and make His dream come true? We choose how the story ends. Unless we say yes to Him, even an impossible story come true can’t make His dream of companionship come true. Only we can do that. You and I get to choose to make His dream come true this Christmas… Because somehow I think that all He wants for Christmas is you. *pics from the web |
Hannah Rayne20. Lover of Jesus. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Servant. Fan of the kitchen. Graduate of Masters of Biblical Counseling.
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