Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Walking in the Light 

“Walk in the Light as I am in the Light.” I woke up with these words in my head one morning, almost as part of a dream as I was waking. I pondered them all morning, and they kept coming to mind randomly throughout the day and the next. I sensed that they reminded me of a scripture but didn’t know which one, intending to look it up later. Two days later, as I was lying in bed and Tom was on the computer, it came to me again. I asked him if there was a scripture like that, and he looked it up—1 John 1:7. It was so encouraging to read it in the Word and see it in context:

“This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with him yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin. If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word has no place in our lives.”

I prayed that I am not walking in the darkness in any area of my heart, mind, or soul—that I am striving toward Him with everything in me.

During our last Saturday group, we discussed all the scriptures about casting out demons. Jesus healed the sick, raised the dead, cleansed lepers, and drove out demons, and He sent His disciples to do the same (Matthew 10:8). Why is this not happening more now? If “Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Hebrews 13:8), then He still has the power to do these things. A friend mentioned that she believed her husband might be afflicted by a demon or two. I felt inadequate to act on it, but Jesus reminded me that it is not about what I can do—it is about what He does through me. I prayed for focus, to trust Him fully, and to walk in obedience so that He can work through me.

Tom and I finished reading So You Don’t Want to Go to Church Anymore by Wayne Jacobsen. It helped me realize why we haven’t started a house church yet: we aren’t supposed to start anything ourselves. God wants us to join what He is already doing. Trying to force it ourselves would have limited what He could do in us. God is bigger than any label, place, or program. He is doing so much more, and I want to follow Him wherever that leads—into a church building, a house, a shelter, or another country. My desire is simply to abide in Him and watch Him work through us (John 15).

During my Daniel study, I had a revelation about the temporal nature of this world. All of our efforts to maintain or pursue worldly things are fleeting (Matthew 24:35). All pain and suffering here are light and momentary compared to eternity (2 Corinthians 4:17). God reminds us that we are like grass, here today and gone tomorrow (1 Peter 1:24). Why do we invest so much time in things that do not last?

Father, I pray for a true revelation for Your Church Body, that we may see clearly what we are investing in. Help us let go of fleshly desires and hold fast to You and Your eternal purposes each day. In Jesus’ mighty name, Amen.

Friday, August 14, 2009

When Suffering Becomes Surrender

The battle rages on… and lately I feel like I may have had a small “glimpse” of what Job experienced when God lifted the hedge and allowed the enemy to attack. Not on his scale, of course—but enough to reveal how utterly dependent I am on the protection of my Lord. Without Him shielding, guiding, and covering me, I am painfully aware of my own weakness. I need Him—constantly.

I started listening again to Hinds’ Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard (a book I read years ago), and in chapter 7—“On the Shores of Loneliness”—Much Afraid encounters Pride, Resentment, and Self-Pity. As I listened to the conversation, their voices sounded uncomfortably familiar… the same whispers I’ve let circle in my own mind. I realized I’ve given far too much space to their lies.
Lord, help me hear Your truth above every other voice.

A couple of days ago, a friend emailed me right on time. She wrote:

“You both have been on my mind for about a week and I have been praying for you. The Lord told me to tell you, ‘Remain encouraged. I am your Strong Tower! No plan of the enemy has any ground in your life if you remain in Me and in My Word.’”

Thank You, Lord. Your timing is always perfect.

I also had a dream recently—one where I was pregnant. I felt such unusual peace and joy in the dream, like I had been given a second chance to “do it better this time.” When I told G and F, G said, “I wonder what THAT means?” And it made me think… pregnancy could represent so many things—an idea, a ministry, a healing, a new season beginning. Something forming beneath the surface.

Then this morning I had another strange dream. I was in an elevator trying to reach the 50th floor. The elevator shot upward so fast it passed my floor and continued into “negative” floors—floors that didn’t even exist, flashing red numbers on the display. I panicked and hit the cancel button, which made the elevator instantly plummet. As it free-fell, I cried out “Oh God!” and braced for impact—but it never came. Instead, I found myself hanging upside down only a couple of feet above the ground. Someone opened the door, and I realized I was safe.

It felt like a picture of my life: unpredictable, out of control, and somehow still held by God.

Tom and I are now reading Oswald Chambers’ biography, and what a life he lived—absolutely “sold out” for Christ. Tom has related to it so strongly that he’s choked up several times while reading. It comforts him to see that God worked in Oswald’s life in ways that look similar to what He is doing in ours. And one theme stands out again and again: the deep things of God are learned through suffering. Even Much Afraid’s companions in Hinds’ Feet are named Sorrow and Suffering. Jesus Himself was “a Man of Sorrows.” Why should we expect an easier road?

It seems the Holy Spirit is emphasizing this theme everywhere we turn. Last night in my ladies’ group we finished Lies Women Believe by Nancy Leigh DeMoss, and the final truths centered on suffering:

Truth #20: “It is impossible to be godly without suffering.” (1 Peter 5:10)
—Sanctification happens when we embrace suffering instead of fleeing it.

Truth #21: “My suffering will not last forever.” (2 Corinthians 4:17–18)
—All suffering is purposeful and intentional.

Truth #22: “It is not about me; it’s all about Him.” (Colossians 1:16–18)
—We exist for His pleasure and glory, not our own comfort.

Ok Lord… I see what You are saying.
You are calling me to surrender, to trust, to submit, to embrace—not resist—these hardships.
But even here… even in this… I still need Your help.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Sorrow, Surrender, and the Shepherd’s Lead

Well, we are about to turn another corner in our journey with the Lord. TB left us a note Wednesday morning letting us know that his family situation has placed him in a position where he needs the room we’ve been staying in. He asked that we find another place to stay by Labor Day weekend. Honestly, this was simply confirmation of what Tom and I had already been sensing. I was hoping we could tell TB we had another place before he had to ask us to leave… but things didn’t work out that way.

Tom and I are at peace about it because the Lord had already been preparing our hearts. Our bigger concern was for TB and how he felt having to write that note. He was kind and reassuring—he let us know there was no conflict, nothing we had done or not done. He said he enjoyed our company and companionship, but his family situation is the driving force behind this decision. We’ve been here eight months, which is a long time for “temporary guests” anywhere. It’s clear that it’s time for us to move on to the next stage of this journey.

I’m still listening to Hinds’ Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard, so I can’t help but see our own story in Much Afraid’s journey. Her companions—Sorrow and Suffering—make her path to the High Places difficult, and each challenge pushes her to surrender more of her will to the Shepherd. She learns to trust Him more deeply, regardless of how things look or how she feels—whether her path seems to rise toward the mountains or dip back into another valley.

I feel like the Lord is asking me the same questions:
Will I surrender, submit, and yield to Him no matter what things look like?

Lately my companions also feel like sorrow and suffering. The spiritual and emotional road has been hard—mostly because it has exposed so much of the “flesh” in me. And that has led to a battle as I try to crucify it and keep it from dominating my life and decisions. It is humbling—and honestly terrifying—to see how strongly the flesh fights to stay alive.

In the chapter I listened to last night (either 13 or 14), Much Afraid turned another corner that led away from the High Places again. And right on cue, her “fearing relatives” were waiting to convince her she had made a mistake in following the Shepherd at all. She let herself imagine what her life would have been like if she had never met Him or begun this journey—and that thought terrified her more than the new valley ahead.

She realized that what truly mattered wasn’t where she was on the journey, but that she was with the Shepherd. And if He was with her, she could face anything.

That point struck me deeply.

How often do we get so caught up in the journey—or the destination—that we forget about His presence and His purpose?

We think the destination is the real goal, but God sees the journey as the place of formation. Here on earth, we are shaped by the transforming power of the Holy Spirit, step by step, valley by valley.

As I look back on our time with TB, knowing this season is ending, I can’t help wondering if we could have done more. Isn’t hindsight always 20/20? I’m not even sure what more we could have done, but the chorus of Matthew West’s “The Motions” keeps coming to mind:

 I don't wanna go through the motions
I don't wanna go one more day
without Your all-consuming passion inside of me
I don't wanna spend my whole life asking,
"What if I had given everything,

instead of going through the motions?"

Did we just “go through the motions” while we were here?
Were we so focused on our own issues, needs, and walk that we missed opportunities to care for TB and his family?

In my heart, I fear the answer might be yes. But I also know there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:1). So I will not go down the road of guilt—mine or the enemy’s. I simply want to evaluate, learn, and grow.

Lord, thank You that You are in control and we are not. Thank You for Your grace, mercy, love, forgiveness, and patience. Father, help me keep my focus on Your will and Your plan—not my own. You paid the price for me, and I want to live the life You desire for me, not the one my flesh wants. Give me strength, courage, and determination to shed selfishness, pride, and ego so I can learn from You, for You are “gentle and humble in heart” (Matthew 11:29). In Jesus’ name, Amen.

I’ll end with this quote from today’s Oswald Chambers:

“The statement we so often hear, ‘Make a decision for Jesus Christ,’ places the emphasis on something our Lord never trusted. He never asks us to decide for Him, but to yield to Him—something very different. At the foundation of Jesus Christ’s kingdom is the genuine loveliness of those who are commonplace. I am truly blessed in my poverty. If I have no strength of will and a nature without worth or excellence, then Jesus says to me, ‘Blessed are you, because it is through your poverty that you can enter My kingdom…’”
(Matthew 5:3)