She raises her fist to the heavens and shouts her anger. She lets her heart ugliness spill out and over, and then falls to her knees keening her pain. She rocks back and forth, curled up within the pain, when she feels Him reach out His hand to comfort her.
He scoops her up, holds her close to His heart and whispers in her ear: ‘I love you, I am here and I will never leave you to go through this alone, will you trust Me?’
Her first instinct is to cringe and hold on tighter to the pain, but then she remembers….
He was broken for her.
For her.
And she uncurls from the pain and holds it up to Him as an offering and in His brokenness she finds her rest.
This is a conundrum of truth. That freedom comes through brokenness.
Christ’s brokenness. Our brokenness.
I have only ever experienced true freedom when I accepted Christ’s brokenness on my behalf and when I was willing to be broken. What? Aren’t we suppose to be victorious and more than conquerors and all that? Yes, of course, absolutely, no question about it, but there remains the truth that I have two patterns of thought waging war within me: the flesh and the spirit. Which will win? The Spirit can only win once I have experienced brokenness in the flesh.
You see, freedom is easily abused, is easily misunderstood, and is often misconstrued. Freedom is not a freedom to do what I want. To do what I please. Freedom is for doing God’s will. His will. Only his will.
So many things stand in his way. They are us. They are our foibles, desires, sins, idols, past, present, and future. All of these things stand in the way of freedom. The kind of freedom that God intends for us to run in.
We are set free to be who God intended for us to be—not some improved version of ourselves, but a new version of ourselves. Jesus did not suffer an insufferable death so that I could be reformed. No. It would be cheapening his grace if I were to merely be reformed. I need to be transformed.
Transformed.
Made new.
Renewed.
That’s the kind of grace that motivated my Savior to die a horrific death in my place. It is the kind of grace I want in my life. It’s the kind of grace that comes through brokenness and yes, that is frightening, but I know that my God takes this heart of mine that I hold out to him and he gently and tenderly touches all the places that need to be removed and in his wisdom and timing he removes the old and replaces it with new. There is never any leaving of the old. It is all new. My only requirement is to submit and to trust.
To be reformed is to retain some semblance of the original and to make improvements on it. To be made new, to be transformed, means being willing to let go of the original, watch it break and see something new made out of it.
Our human nature is bent towards compensation. We screw up and try to fix things by doing more or giving more. Our kids are mad at us for a decision made and we try to ‘make’ it up to them through various ways–whether it’s a gift or privilege or event. We hurt our spouse and try to compensate by buying them something or taking them somewhere. We feel inadequate in our jobs or volunteer position so we work harder or volunteer more and longer. It becomes a continuous cycle of do more, try harder then repeat.
The Israelites were great at offering sacrifices. There were numerous sacrifices and the priests were busy day and night presenting the sacrifices of the people to the Lord. And somehow, we, along with the Israelites think that is all that is required of us.
But what if it isn’t?
What if we have it all wrong?
What if it isn’t in our serving, our giving, our support of missions, or our doing the ‘right’ things? These are so important, but can easily distract us and deceive us into believing we are giving God exactly what he desires.
What if we are missing the mark in understanding what God really wants?
Look at what the Lord says in Psalm 50:7-11:
“Hear, O my people, and I will speak; O Israel, I will testify against you. I am God, your God. Not for your sacrifices do I rebuke you; your burnt offerings are continually before me. I will not accept a bull from your house or goats from your folds. For every beast of the forest is mine, the cattle on a thousand hills. I know all the birds of the hills, and all that moves in the field is mine.”
Do you hear the Lord’s cry? He is not rejecting all that we give and do for him in his name, but he is calling us to something greater.
Psalm 50:14-15
“Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving, and perform your vows to the Most High, and call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me.”
The three things He longs to receive from us are:
…thanksgiving
…fulfill your vows
…call upon Him
Thanksgiving. It seems too easy. It seems too hard. In the good times, thanksgiving doesn’t seem like it is ‘enough’, and in hard times, thanksgiving is too ‘hard’, so we think we need to ‘supplement’ thanksgiving by doing more and giving more and being more. To offer thanksgiving with a heart fully engaged does require sacrifice on our part. In the good times, we need to be satisfied that our thanks is enough and sacrifice our desire to do more on the altar of His acceptance. In the bad times, it is a sacrifice to give him our thanks because it hurts and giving and doing more doesn’t hurt as bad as standing before the Lord and telling him, ‘This is awful, I hate what is happening, but you are good and I thank you for your kindness and mercy and grace and greatness,’ and really mean it.
Vows. It seems as though vows don’t hold the same weight as they once did, it seems as though commitment is a choice based on the whim of the moment or what is best for ‘me’. But the Lord says to fulfill our vows to him. When we accept Christ’s redeeming and resurrecting work in our life, we enter into a covenantal relationship with the Lord to believe him, to be faithful to him, to trust him, to be made like him and to stand firm. That is fulfilling our vows to him.
Trouble. It follows us. We cannot escape it. What we do when trouble smacks us along side the head will show us where we place our trust. Do we ‘pull up our boot straps’ and dig in? Do we face it with a ‘stiff upper lip’? Do we try and deal with it in our own strength, which is so very feeble and inadequate? Do we call upon the Lord only when we have exhausted all other options? Look what the Psalmist tells us: ‘Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you’. The moment we run into trouble or trouble comes running into us our very first response should be to call upon the Lord. Do you? Do I?
Three things the Lord counts as sacrifices offered to him:
thanksgiving,
commitment to him,
and dependence on him.
In this we will honor him and isn’t that what we want to do? Isn’t that what this life surrendered wholly to him is all about?
I love to watch the intensity of the sun change through the seasons. I love the gentle light of spring and the bright light of winter and the intense light of summer and fading light of fall. I prefer curtain-less windows so light can stream in and wash me in it’s warmth and light.
It’s the light that changes my perspective. The brilliance of the light surrounding the branch holding these leaves to the point where you cannot see any distinguishing marks of the branch itself, reminds me that that is who I am in Christ. It’s how I want to be seen, by not being seen at all, but all there is to see is the brilliance of Christ engulfing me and surrounding me. That is my heart’s cry.
But I also need the light to illuminate the areas that Christ wants me to surrender to his redeeming work. When his light shines into those hidden places of my heart I see things that shame me because I know better, but there they are, lurking in the dark recesses of my heart, but nothing, absolutely nothing is hidden from God. Nothing.
So as painful as it is to be wrong, it is for my best. Because as I trade in my darkness for his light, I shine brighter and his work in my life is highlighted and he receives all the glory because I cannot trade:
pride for humility,
my people-approval seeking heart for a God-approval seeking heart,
jealousy for rejoicing,
comparison for contentment,
in my own strength and will power.
It is impossible for me, but nothing is impossible in the hands of a gracious God.
He is so gracious. I fall, and he helps me up, dusts me off, and sets me on my feet again. I fail and he wraps me in forgiveness. His kindness leads me to repentance.
His mercies are brand new every morning. Each day is an opportunity to shine a little brighter for him. Each day is an opportunity to be transformed to be more like him.
To shine as bright as the sun, filled with the son.
‘The waiting, God, is so hard. Is this dream a dream from you or is it rooted in my selfish ambition?’
I imagine with Abraham what it was like to wait 25 years for the promise of God to be fulfilled. What must it have been like year after year, month after month, day after day to wait and believe?
We are not all Abraham’s. Not all of us have been called to leave our homes, our family, and our city, but we are all called to believe and to trust.
That’s hard. It’s harder than hard. Sometimes it seems impossible. How do I trust when I cannot see? How do I trust when I do not know where I am going? How do I trust when it seems as though God has left me to flounder?
I know it’s been said to ‘look up to Jesus’ and ‘keep your eyes focused on him’ and ‘look above your circumstances and focus on Him, ‘and all those sayings are true, I’ve even said it myself, but sometimes it seems like a trite saying when I just can’t see Him.
The thing I love about Abraham is that he didn’t deny his circumstances. He faced the reality of his circumstances. His circumstances were that he and his wife were unable to bear children because of their age, yet they were given the promise of a son. So Abraham believed and it is credited to him as righteousness. He faced reality, and he believed.
Those aren’t two contradictory statements. In fact, we can learn how to navigate our sticky, painful circumstances if we follow Abraham’s example.
Looking up isn’t always the answer. Sometimes we have to look down. Sometimes we have to accept our reality and look at it for what it is. Struggling with idols? Struggling in your relationships? Struggling with your church? Struggling with past regret? Don’t deny it. See it for what it is.
And then see Jesus in the middle of it. Look for him. Ask him to reveal himself. Ask him to change you and grow you. There is nothing more beautiful than seeing Jesus in the middle of our circumstances.
Will you see him in the beauty of a sunrise and thank him for another day to wake up and walk with him? Will you see him in the delicacy of a tiny wildflower that could be overlooked during a wander through the woods? Will you see him in the smile of your children? Will you see him in the rustle of the autumn leaves as they slowly change their hue from green to yellow gold, fiery red, and burnished bronze? Even in your hurt will you see him?
He calls us to believe and to trust.
Can we believe like Abraham even when the circumstances seem and feel impossible?
We can.
We will.
Faith does not make things easy, but it does make them possible.
This is the key to making it through those days when you get up out of bed and want to crawl back into bed, throw the covers over your head because there is a big, hairy, scary monster out there called ‘To-Do’ that just might chew you up and spit you out.
Oy. I love where God has placed me. It’s hard though. and this year is a stretch. I’ve got kids stretched out all over the emotional need spectrum. I have two teenage daughters–one half way through those teen years and the other just beginning. Then there is my son who seems to be on the cusp of pre-teen, I just wish someone would have told me my son would lose his brain at the age of ten…oh wait, someone did… I just didn’t believe them. And then there is the baby, who truly is in the middle of childhood. I wish I could go back and tell myself that those years when I had four children under the age of 10 were the easiest years yet. (I don’t think I would have believed myself either).
But God is faithful.
And loving.
And kind.
And strong.
And all-knowing.
And full of wisdom.
This is the deal: when I abide, when I rest in him, when I rely on him for my strength, my joy, and my knowledge, I am truly carried through the turmoil of emotions that I don’t even know how to deal with within myself let alone guide my daughters through. I am given wisdom on how to relate to my son in such a way that lets him know that I value him. I am given times of joy when I take the time to laugh with my 8 year old.
When I abide, I am able to be in the moment with my loved ones. I am able to embrace exactly where I am at while also recognizing the reality that I am stretched to what feels my limits in regards to time management, home organization, and being what my husband and kids need at any given moment.
Abiding. It reminds me of rest.
A virtual rest in a very real, very busy life. A perspective shift. Instead of searching for solutions to the busyness, I choose to abide in the Lord in the midst of the busy life.
Abiding.
If I remain in him, he will remain in me. John 15:4.
There is peace there.
There is rest there.
There is hope there.
Joy.
Wisdom.
Strength.
Love.
So much love.
Love greater than our greatest need or biggest fear.
Fall is whispering its arrival in the cool nights and the turning of the fields. I have always thought the fall sky is a different sort of blue than the blue of summer or spring or winter. It takes on a brilliance that is emphasized with the myriad of colors in the fields, trees and lawns.
Harvest.
It’s a time to reap what was sown.
It’s a time to calculate the bushels grown and collected.
I watch the cycle of seasons as they unfold and with it I see the cycle of my spiritual life. Often times, in my walk with Christ, I go through quiet seasons, similar to winter where things seem barren, but life is there, it’s just hidden for a time. It’s a time where the Lord is revealing a hidden truth to me so I dig deep and mine it out and ponder and let it grow within and stir my soul. Sometimes I learn a hard truth, such as a pattern of thought that doesn’t please the Lord and sometimes it’s a healing truth, such as he chooses me. Me! The unchosen! (you know those playground games where teams are chosen and there is this one kid that gets picked last, but nobody wants her, but you have to pick her anyway? That was me.)
Then spring comes and with it there is mud, icy rain, and more mud, but eventually, because it alway does, life pokes it’s little head up through the muddy soil and reaches for the warmth of the sun. So it is with God’s life-giving truths in my spirit. As I accept those truths, they can’t help but poke their little heads up, looking around, trying the world on for size, trying me on for size. It’s the best part of God’s truths. They affect us and the world around us. They bring beauty.
Summer arrives and plants grow and flower and flourish. That ‘truth’ that God revealed to me in winter? Well, it begins to bloom and produce fruit, yet it needs to be protected from the weeds that will choke a new plant out. What are those weeds? My defaults. My knee-jerk reactions to people and circumstances. When that happens, I have a choice. I can choose to pull it out right then and there or ignore it and wait for another day more ‘conducive’ to ‘weeding’. The thing is…the longer I allow a weed to take root in my flower bed, the harder it is to pull out. So it is with spiritual weeds. Pull them while they’re little and your heart’s soil is soft.
Autumn.
My favorite time of the year. The colors are brilliant. The sky takes my breath away. The sunrises and sunsets are the most spectacular. It appears that plants are dying, but it’s this time when we can offer our fruits to others. We’ve grown and taken in nutrients from the soil and sun and we have produced fruit! The truths we learn, the hard things we face, the growth we experience are not meant for us alone. Everything we experience can be turned into praise when we allow the Holy Spirit into those places to be used for God’s glory and purpose in someone else’s life.
Then there is a season of rest–winter. And the cycle continues. We are not meant to live always in summer or on a mountaintop, but there are winter times and valley times and new growth times and muddy times and cold times and warmed by the sun times. Embrace it all and smile into the face of the future. God is there.
