I remember thinking as we drove over the mountain on my way to have brain surgery that perhaps it was a bad idea to let someone drill a hole in your skull. As soon as that thought come into my head I felt like a scaly hand grabbed me by the ankle and was pulling me beneath the water and I would drown. That's when I asked my husband if he would mind listening to a song with me.
The song was Oceans by Hillsong, and it had become my theme song. I bathed my mind and soul with the words of the song and fear lost its grip on me. "You call me out upon the waters, the great unknown where feet may fail. And there I find you in the mystery, in oceans deep my faith will stand." I confess I do not understand the path my God has chosen for my life, and sometimes my feet fail and I find myself slipping beneath the water. However, I have chosen to worship Him by not only accepting my weakness but also by entrusting myself to His love. And so when my strength fails I rest in His embrace.
When I was a teenager I was told that God loved me and had a wonderful plan for my life. That sounded really good to me and I had a preconceived idea of what good would look like. But I was wrong. What I have found is very much like the words I find in the song. God's grace abounds in deepest waters and His sovereign hand has been my guide. Sometimes while facing life's challenges my feet have failed and fears have surrounded me. But in the midst of the struggles of life God has never failed me. Grapes are good, but sometimes it's the crushed grapes that gladden the heart.
The good that God has chosen for me sometimes includes tears and sleepless nights. Times when I feel that I've come to the end of my strength. These difficult times have taught me to accept humility as a gift. Acknowledging my weakness allows me to call upon His name. By faith I keep my eyes above the waves. The waters rise, my strength fails, but I have chosen to rest in His embrace and once more I find the comfort that I am His and He is mine.
I have not found life to be easy, but I have found it to be good. I believe that I am guided by a hand I cannot see but by one that I trust. And so my love song continues to be, "Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders. Let me walk upon the waters wherever you would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander, and my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior."
Monday, April 24, 2017
Sunday, April 23, 2017
Glorifying God Through Brokenness
It's hard to believe that it's been five years since our last conversation.
The sky was painted with the colors of dusk. All of nature seemed to be wearing the delicate hues of Springtime on that April evening five years ago. We sat together in companionable silence as we so often did while watching the sun slowly sink behind the mountains.
His wife of over sixty years had died earlier that week. Both of our hearts had been made tender by grief, so when we finally spoke it was not about the temporal things but about the eternal. That night I asked him the question that I often asked him. It was something his mother had taught him when he was a young boy. I asked him about the true meaning and purpose of life.
His ninety one years seemed to fade and I heard a sweetness in his voice that must have been an echo of what his mother heard when she first planted this truth in his soul. His eyes were bright with the light of eternity as he said, "The chief end of man is to glorify God, and enjoy Him forever."
Papa was a farmer, a man of the earth. One of the most humble men I have every known. He knew that God used broken things. Broken clouds to give rain. Broken soil to plant grain. Broken grain to give bread. Broken bread to give strength. As we sat there that night reflecting on the meaning of life there was a sense of being grounded. That night there was the humble understanding that glorifying God is sometimes done when we bring our broken hearts to Him, simply believing that He can make sense out of what we ourselves do not understand.
Looking back I can still feel the joy we shared that night. Joy is a strange byproduct of grief that is mixed with faith. As we sat in the twilight looking beyond the horizon we both believed that what we were experiencing was simply a chapter of a bigger story being told. Peace blanketed our aching hearts as we thought about what it meant to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. I didn't know then that that would be my last conversation with Papa. Forever began for him the next morning when he stepped into eternity.
I used to think that we brought glory to God by the big things we did for Him. But now I understand that we glorify Him when we bring Him our brokenness and find it redeemed.
The sky was painted with the colors of dusk. All of nature seemed to be wearing the delicate hues of Springtime on that April evening five years ago. We sat together in companionable silence as we so often did while watching the sun slowly sink behind the mountains.
His wife of over sixty years had died earlier that week. Both of our hearts had been made tender by grief, so when we finally spoke it was not about the temporal things but about the eternal. That night I asked him the question that I often asked him. It was something his mother had taught him when he was a young boy. I asked him about the true meaning and purpose of life.
His ninety one years seemed to fade and I heard a sweetness in his voice that must have been an echo of what his mother heard when she first planted this truth in his soul. His eyes were bright with the light of eternity as he said, "The chief end of man is to glorify God, and enjoy Him forever."
Papa was a farmer, a man of the earth. One of the most humble men I have every known. He knew that God used broken things. Broken clouds to give rain. Broken soil to plant grain. Broken grain to give bread. Broken bread to give strength. As we sat there that night reflecting on the meaning of life there was a sense of being grounded. That night there was the humble understanding that glorifying God is sometimes done when we bring our broken hearts to Him, simply believing that He can make sense out of what we ourselves do not understand.
Looking back I can still feel the joy we shared that night. Joy is a strange byproduct of grief that is mixed with faith. As we sat in the twilight looking beyond the horizon we both believed that what we were experiencing was simply a chapter of a bigger story being told. Peace blanketed our aching hearts as we thought about what it meant to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. I didn't know then that that would be my last conversation with Papa. Forever began for him the next morning when he stepped into eternity.
I used to think that we brought glory to God by the big things we did for Him. But now I understand that we glorify Him when we bring Him our brokenness and find it redeemed.
Sunday, April 2, 2017
The Art of Waiting
It was 43 years ago that my husband asked me to marry him. We were only engaged for six weeks, but I can still remember what it was like to wait, and while waiting prepare, for my wedding day. Every day was filled with preparations and every night I would put Steve's picture under my pillow. It was the longest six weeks of my life!
I was thinking about what it is like for a bride to wait for her wedding day because I was teaching this week about Jesus' second coming. The Jewish wedding ceremony began with the young man making a covenant with the bride. He would then drink a cup of wine with her to seal the contract. Finally, he would pay a bride-price to the father of the bride. At this point, the waiting would begin, because now he would leave and go to his father's house to prepare a bridal chamber for her.
Jesus used the very phase that the groom would use when leaving his bride when He said, "I go to prepare a place for you." I was only engaged for six weeks, but the Jewish bride who was waiting for her groom didn't know how long she would have to wait. During this time she was to be preparing herself for her wedding. She would wear a veil whenever she went out among other men because she was set apart. She was one for whom a price had been paid.
As the days became weeks and the weeks became months the anticipation would grow. The tradition was that his coming would be a surprise. Perhaps he might even come at midnight. The bride would gather her bridesmaids, her sisters, anyone whom she had chosen to be part of the wedding party, and they would begin to wait with her. Of course they would have oil in their lamps just in case he chose to come at the midnight hour. When the time finally came, the groom would gather his friends and begin the journey to his bride's home. When he was close enough for his bride to hear, he would let out a shout. That was her signal that she was about be caught up by the one for whom she's been waiting.
When I turn to the last chapter of the Bible I read again and again and again these words of Jesus, "Look! I am coming quickly!" I want to be like the princess described in the Royal Wedding Song of Psalm 45. "In her chamber, the royal daughter is all glorious, her clothing embroidered with gold." When did she do the embroidery? She did it while she was waiting and preparing herself for the return of her groom. So, I am waiting with the anticipation of a bride, hoping that my embroidery will be completed by the time I hear the shout.
I was thinking about what it is like for a bride to wait for her wedding day because I was teaching this week about Jesus' second coming. The Jewish wedding ceremony began with the young man making a covenant with the bride. He would then drink a cup of wine with her to seal the contract. Finally, he would pay a bride-price to the father of the bride. At this point, the waiting would begin, because now he would leave and go to his father's house to prepare a bridal chamber for her.
Jesus used the very phase that the groom would use when leaving his bride when He said, "I go to prepare a place for you." I was only engaged for six weeks, but the Jewish bride who was waiting for her groom didn't know how long she would have to wait. During this time she was to be preparing herself for her wedding. She would wear a veil whenever she went out among other men because she was set apart. She was one for whom a price had been paid.
As the days became weeks and the weeks became months the anticipation would grow. The tradition was that his coming would be a surprise. Perhaps he might even come at midnight. The bride would gather her bridesmaids, her sisters, anyone whom she had chosen to be part of the wedding party, and they would begin to wait with her. Of course they would have oil in their lamps just in case he chose to come at the midnight hour. When the time finally came, the groom would gather his friends and begin the journey to his bride's home. When he was close enough for his bride to hear, he would let out a shout. That was her signal that she was about be caught up by the one for whom she's been waiting.
When I turn to the last chapter of the Bible I read again and again and again these words of Jesus, "Look! I am coming quickly!" I want to be like the princess described in the Royal Wedding Song of Psalm 45. "In her chamber, the royal daughter is all glorious, her clothing embroidered with gold." When did she do the embroidery? She did it while she was waiting and preparing herself for the return of her groom. So, I am waiting with the anticipation of a bride, hoping that my embroidery will be completed by the time I hear the shout.
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