Your path

I see Your path

rising heavenward,

solid stones awaiting my feet.

It pulses with truth and strength

and I know if I just step out in faith,

You will sustain me

and I will not fall.

broken cisterns

“My people have committed two sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water.” Jeremiah 2:13

So this verse from Jeremiah keeps coming back to me, just sitting at the edge of  my consciousness, waving every so often to catch my attention. I’ve looked it up in the Geneva Study Bible, and found that it’s “Signifying that when men forsake God’s word, which is the fountain of life, they reject God himself, and so fall to their own inventions, and vain confidence, and procure to themselves destruction.”

How is this applying to me? I haven’t turned away from God, have I?

Well, like a ‘dog returning to its vomit’, I find myself clinging to destructive ideas and behaviors rather than clinging to my Rock. When I allow myself to wallow in self-pity, or to clutch to the darkness within me, I’m being disobedient to Him and what He’s called me to be. So in this way, I am forsaking God’s word, and choosing to believe what my wayward emotions whisper to me, rather than trusting in Him and His truth. Those patterns that I return to are my broken cisterns… they won’t hold the living water that is being poured into me. And all that water is being wasted when I allow it to flow through the broken parts. It’s not what God desires for me, to be forever empty of His life. He wants to heal me, to seal up the cracks so I can live.

It’s time to start living as that new creation He’s calling me to be.

and yet…

Keep working on me Lord…

I continually sell my soul for things of infinitely less worth than You, AND YET I am redeemed.

I continue to test the boundaries of Your grace, AND YET I am forgiven.

The ugliest thoughts possible fill my mind and my heart, AND YET I am precious in Your sight.

My tattered self is too ashamed to go before You, AND YET I have access to the throne of God, right now.

I can only see my filth, AND YET I am clean.

I continually make my bed in my old prison cell, AND YET I am free.

I cover my ears to block out the sound, AND YET I am rejoiced over.

I think noone else can understand the pit of despair, AND YET I am cried with.

I have nothing of any value to give, AND YET I am chosen.

I submerge myself in self-deprication, AND YET I am pursued.

I will always disappoint, AND YET I am loved.

 

~Let Your truth set me free Lord.

who am i

Who am I, really?  This is a VERY incomplete list, a definite work in progress.

Here’s what God says:

I am a child of God

I am redeemed

I am forgiven

I am precious in His sight

I am able to come before the throne of God, right now

I am clean

I am free

I am rejoiced over and cried with

I am understood

I am loved

I am chosen

I am a part of the body of Christ

I am never alone

I am His creation

I am my Beloved’s and His desire is for me

I am rescued

I am unashamed

I am heard by God

I am here for a purpose

I am known

I am found

I am carried close to God’s heart

I am comforted

I am set apart

I am accepted by God

I am pursued

 

Lord, help me to remember these truths…

Keep my eyes on You

Keep my eyes on You Lord,

on our future yet to come.

Let other thoughts and cares flow away

beneath my feet.

Keep my eyes on You Jesus,

looking only towards Your hands of love,

guiding me, working in me, working on me.

The troubles that threaten,

they grasp my heels, pulling me down.

But keep my eyes on You Father,

till all else dies away,

for my hope is found only in You.

It’s not all about me

It’s truly amazing how, if you’re seeking Him, God continues to reveal Himself in new and unexpected ways. Ways of knocking your world a little off kilter and causing you to step back and take another look at the tidy little box you’ve put God into. Cause God doesn’t want to be boxed up and put on the shelf of those subjects we know all about already.

I feel as though I’ve been in a dry place lately, where I haven’t been feeling God’s presence in my day-to-day life. And to be honest, it’s both frustrating and scary. My recent past has been so filled with daily encounters and encouragements from God that the thought of all that going away terrified me. Was I drifting away from Him? Was He drifting away from me to become some distant, hands-off God? But I’m beginning to believe He’s taking me through this time to strengthen my trust in Him, to help me know, deep down, that He is there even on those days (or weeks, or months..) when my own heart is lonely and searching and I don’t sense His nearness.

One of the ways He’s working on me is by taking me back to the basics. I know it sounds like a no-brainer, but- surprise!- my walk with God is not all about me. It’s not me living my life and inviting God to have a relationship with me, but God saying, “I have this great life and I want to share it with you!” When a friend first put that to me, I didn’t see the difference too clearly (yes, I’m a little slow that way). But after turning it round a bit in my head, I began to grasp what he was saying. My intimacy with God is not dependent on who I am and what I’ve done (both good and not so good) but on who He is. And He is faithful. And trustworthy. And He knows all about me, and He’s still faithful. Psalm 9:10 says, “Those who know Your name will trust in You, for You, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek You.”  And 2 Timothy 2:13 says, “if we are faithless, He will remain faithful, for He cannot disown Himself.” I’m still a work in progress (and always will be), but slowly I’m turning from looking at where I feel I am with God, to looking at where God is (and always will be).

Maybe He’s not so much knocking me off kilter as setting me back on track.

Questions, questions

I feel like my life is a big question right now. All I have is questions, wonderings, restlessness. I want God to answer me, yet I have no right to demand such a thing. So I’m left wandering, and wondering.

What God am I trying to follow? One who is fickle and will hide Himself from me when I search for Him?

Do I actually believe He cares about what is important to me, REALLY??

Do I not desire Him enough? And how much IS enough, anyway??

Does He only want those who are so sure of their desire for Him? Is that the “seeking with all your heart”, and until we reach that place He is pulled back, restrained from us?

What of those who just aren’t strong enough to pursue Him that hard? I thought He cared for the downtrodden, broken, neglected, rejected children??

Do I have to know the “right name” to call on for Him to be near? How about those who are empty, at the end of themselves?

Is being empty the same as broken-hearted?

Do I trust myself with You, or just resign myself to You?

Do I live life now, with all its hurts and disappointments, praising God, rejoicing over what WILL BE once this world ends? Just go through now, enduring trials, but yet telling others the “Good News”? Live through pain now, trudging along through however many years of living on this earth we have, never expecting any peace, joy, compassion?

Does God take delight in us?

Are we to hope for the “fruitful” life? Or can we do nothing to please Him? Why bother than, if it’s all just ‘filthy rags’?

When I am in the dark places, when I can’t seem to pray or read or journal or depend on You, can I still claim belief in You, and know You are my God? Or, as I’m not bowing down, worshipping, being intimately honest with You – do I still have the right to call myself Your child?

Do I have a right to question God?

Do I believe God desires to save me from myself?

Questions, questions. Questions that rattle through my soul, and I’m having a hard time clinging to my Rock.

Is it a choice?

“In my heart there is no faith – no love – no trust – there is so much pain – the pain of longing, the pain of not being wanted. – I want God with all the powers of my soul – and yet there between us – there is a terrible separation. – I don’t pray any longer – I utter words of community prayers – and try my utmost to get out of every word the sweetness it has to give. – But my prayer of union is not there any longer. – I no longer pray. – My soul is not one with You – and yet when alone in the streets – I talk to You for hours – of my longing for You. – How intimate are those words – and yet so empty, for they leave me far from You.”

Would it surprise you to discover these are the words of Mother Teresa? It sure caught me off guard to read this, and many other similar journalings, describing the terrible darkness she felt within her, even as she served the poor, the homeless, the dying and the little children of India. I guess I had always thought of her being at the high end of the “Godly people” measuring stick, that she was the most giving, spiritual and humble woman out there. But reading about her, I find that she endured what (I think) is the worst kind of pain and suffering- feeling separated and cut-off from God.

All I can think is “Wait! This is what I struggle with frequently! How could Mother Teresa feel this way with all the good she’s done?” When I find myself stalled out in that dark place inside me, where I can’t feel God with me, I usually curl up in a depressed little ball and cry. Not necessarily to God, I can sulk with the best of them, and sometimes I prefer to be there holding my pity-party rather than seeking the face of God. And yet Mother Teresa kept on being faithful to what God called her to, despite the fact that for years on end she did not personally  feel His presence in her life. Instead of giving up (though she was tempted to many times), she chose to believe that God was (and would continue to be) faithful, regardless of what her feelings were telling her.

Is it that “easy”? Just ignore the ebb and flow of my feelings and chose instead to believe in God and His truth? That even when I’m sitting in that dark place, to get up and ACT upon His truth?Is this what He is calling me to?

To Meet You in Your Holy Place

Slowly I approach You, coming before Your throne 

shyly at first, hesitantly, reverently, quietly

my desire to be near You overpowering my timid heart.

I lift my voice, the only gift I can place before You,

and praise You.

My offering begins meekly, mildly, whisperingly,

and my eyes are downcast in humility

as Your heavenly song begins to pass my lips.

I raise my eyes, and I tremble

at the beauty, and the majesty, and the glory

while my heart begins to burn within me.

You peel back the heavens, the clouds and stars

all swept aside at Your command

and You are revealed in Your splendour for us.

The song spills from my mouth now, without restraint

my voice raised with thousands more

adoring You, our King, our Father, our Magnificent Redeemer.

Lessons learned ’round the campfire

Growing up, my dad would take us camping at every possible opportunity. It’s a weekend, lets go camping. Time for the family reunion, lets go camping. Got three weeks off, lets go camping. He loved being outdoors, cruising the highway or hiking a backwoods trail, it didn’t matter. I, on the other hand, did not share his passion for travel. Roughing it, if it had to be done, was an RV. And I can’t even begin to convey the delight that welled up within me whenever were able to stay at a Motel 6 instead. I know my father tried to pass on his love of the great outdoors to us kids, to help us appreciate the beauty and grandeur of what the natural world had to offer, but I much preferred to see it on TV.

Needless to say, my own family (3 kiddos age 8-11, my husband Steve and myself) have not felt the overwhelming urge to spend a few nights outdoors, battling mosquitoes, dirt and vault toilets. OK, maybe the rest of my family has wanted to give it a try, but I’m always the party-pooper. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, let’s just stay home.

That all changed this past month when our home fellowship group decided to take a camping trip together. The kids were beside themselves with excitement, and even my dear husband was bursting at the seams with anticipation. If this gives any indication of his willingness to see that I enjoyed myself on this little venture, he cooked and washed all the dishes after every meal. And we actually had a really good time. You would think with 10 adults and 16 kiddos, there might be some issues, but the kids did great (the adults did too). It was such a peaceful campground, even with all of us there, and so beautiful, I don’t think God could have picked a better place for our first family camping trip. Almost everywhere you turned there was proof of our amazing Creator, from the stars spread out across the night sky to morning walks along the lake to sweeping meadows set before breathtaking mountains. In fact, I had such a nice time I wanted to do it again.

About a week later all 3 kiddos were off to a church camp for several days, leaving Steve and I wondering what to do with all our time alone. We decided to try camping again, to make sure the previous trip’s enjoyment wasn’t just a fluke. This time we traded all the kiddos in for the dog, so she got to experience her first camping trip as well. Off we went to a different campground, in a different part of the state, to scope out some other possibilities for our family. As a bonus, it was Monday after the July 4th weekend, so the campground was fairly empty (read – LOTS of peace and quiet). Even better, it only rained the first evening as opposed to our last trip where every night at dinnertime it rained and hailed. And over the course of the next 2 days God opened my eyes to a few simple truths.

As I said, the campground was fairly empty. And there’s nothing wrong with quiet, it just takes a bit of getting used to when you’re normally surrounded by the hustle and bustle of a busy home with busy kids. At one point, while relaxing in our camp chairs, I mentioned how it seemed so still and quiet. Steve told me to just listen, there were all sorts of sounds if I would simply be still and notice. I gave it a try, and sure enough, there was a whole symphony taking place if I would simply quiet my thoughts and listen. First I heard the birds calling out to the world, each with it’s own unique song to sing. Then the occasional chattering of squirrels adding their voices. The gentle sighing of wind passing through the trees, broken by the distant sound of a childs laughter or dog bark from an unseen neighbors’ campsite. And if I really stilled myself I would be rewarded with the soft lapping of water on the lake shore, keeping a steady background beat throughout the entire song. It was amazing. All I had to do was tune into God’s radio instead of mine.

“Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in all the earth.” ~Psalm 46:10

 When evening came, Steve would start a fire for us to sit by once it was dark (and for making s’mores). He told me several times how important a good bed of hot coals is to keep the fire going. If that base is there, it’s really quite easy to both keep the campfire burning and to rekindle it if the flames died down. I couldn’t help but think how much we are like that fire. When that good solid base of faith is there it’s easy to keep a passion burning for Jesus in our day-to-day lives. And when the storms come and try to extinguish our hope, how much easier it is to fan the flames in our hearts if that hot bed of coals is still burning.

“The fire on the altar must be kept burning; it must not go out.” ~ Leviticus 6:12

And then God taught me about mosquitoes. I actually have a lot of experience with the little buggers, none of it good. When I get bit, it’s not just a little bump. Each bite swells up to several times its original size, and it usually takes several weeks for them to completely disappear. But do you notice how you never feel the mosquito till it’s too late? It has the ability to numb the area where it’s biting so you won’t notice. Ever notice how sin is like that too? It never comes with a fanfare, declaring its intentions for all to hear. Instead sin creeps quietly into our lives, numbing our sensitivities, so that we are caught off-guard and open to whatever harm it might cause. By the time we notice what’s happened it has already done it’s dirty work, and the effects can be long-lasting and painful. When we were camping, the mosquitoeswere so thick you couldn’t turn around without seeing a swarm. I started spraying myself every few hours with eau-de-Repel (works really well by the way) to keep the little blood-suckers at bay. If anyone forgot to spray from head-to-toe within moments of emerging from their tent in the morning, they suffered the consequences. Our relationship with God is the ‘eau-de-Repel’ of our daily life. Having a living, breathing relationshipwith our Savior helps to keep sin at bay around us. There is always a swarm about, but having on the full armor of God within moments of starting our day will go a long way to preventing those nasty little ‘bites’.

 ”Finally, be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you will be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God.” ~Ephesians 6:10-17

It really is amazing how God can use even our times of rest to teach us truths, both old and new. I’m not sure that I’ll ever look at camping the same way. Hope you don’t either.