Thursday, October 24, 2013

When All Other Lights Go Out

“May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring 

There is a light
It burns brighter than the sun
He steals the night
And casts no shadow
There is hope
Should oceans rise and mountains fall
He never fails - excerpt from song
Take Heart by Hillsong United 


"Anxiety does not empty tomorrow of it's sorrows, but only empties today of it's strength." -Charles Spurgeon

We sat down to partake in a cup of warm comfort at the corner coffee shop.   A friend I have known for a long time.  Who shares my birthday…and my love for Jesus.  Her warm smile and unassuming manner till safe ground…to be honest…raw…and downright ugly, if need be.  We divulge our triumphs…our failures…and our struggles.  She is one of those people who lighten the weight with laughter, tears and loads of grace…we lay our flawed souls bare.  

Me and my striving and falling and trying to fix things unfixable and running and hiding from the boogie man always comes down to one big heaping pile of clumsy chaos.  No squeaky clean image on this front.

And she shares her own story of redemption and grace and the ugly to beauty…and in these precious heart to messy heart moments…I don’t feel so alone.  So ashamed.  So beyond repair.  And this is community.  

The earth turns and the sun rises beaming rays onto our table…and in our hearts
.
Confession brings those twisted parts of us right into the light.  Where lies are extracted and Truth rips through confusion opening soul eyes to the deepest parts of reality.  The blurred lines of grey are no longer shades…but black and white in the raw.  

And she doesn’t blink and she doesn’t shrink back.  She just says it.  What I have been searching for.  Where I have been wrestling with the “how can I do this when I don’t want to do this and it feels so against the grain of my flesh and my desire…yet it is the Lord’s will and I know it” question.  

PEACE.  “Rachel, the only thing I can tell you in this is that you’re just gonna have to find peace in the midst.”

Deep heavy exhale…

TRUTH.  Starts to unravel angst and I know she is speaking Life.  And so the quest for peace begins…

I walk out into the crisp cool morning air and breathe in deep.  And embers blaze resolve where the shadows haunted hope.

My inclination is to extinguish the fires of conflict and drive out discomfort when life’s harmony turns to cacophony…and if I can’t fix it…finding the nearest exit to flee.  Hit the eject button right out of those circumstances or relationships and back into my happy place.

But in efforts to try and escape…I’m caught in a rip tide searching for stable ground…because there’s always something chasing you when you’re on the run.  And the hurt just doesn’t go away.

And so maybe it’s time to stop running…stop fixing…stop managing…and stop fighting the pursuer.  He just might be a messenger.  That needs to be heard.  He just might be a beacon of Truth that will light up the darkness we indulge.  He just might be the very fire to consume and purify the hard black dross on our hearts…purifying…redeeming…and showing us the way.   

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  –Ephesians 4:6-7

It will GUARD my heart and my mind.  Protect it. From all the loud noises of the world and my own wayward thoughts and fleshly desires and failures…and where the currents of life have dragged far from comfort and banged up hopes and dreams…and even when evil stalks and tries to crush…there is Peace to be had in these places.   

For a great king who had been hunted…committed adultery and murder…lost a child to sickness…dethroned…betrayed by his son…and abandoned by his people…he knew Peace.  “I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust." –Psalm 91:2

The Lord IS the eye of the storm.  Why do I keep going out into the squall when shelter is but a bended knee away?  That is the question…

To pray and ask and offer up thanksgiving…it is the life raft I keep looking away from because I am SO FOCUSED on the STORM.

But oh so gently…God graciously opens my eyes to what has wormed itself deep into the fabric of my heart.  

FEAR.  I called it stress.  I called it anxiety.  I called it anger.  I called it worry.  But fear…no…that was for the weak.   Overwhelmed…but not fearful.  Tired…but not timid.  Oh how blind we can be…

And Truth points to Truth points to Truth…when you mine the written Word…another gem…another promise…another call to bow low.

But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.  That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”  -2 Corinthians 12:9-10

So really it all comes down to this…that squeaky clean image that I said wasn’t on this front…yeah right.  I’ve stepped right into those gale winds and torrential rains putting all my faith into my own pink ruffle umbrella.  “How’s it workin’ for ya?” you might ask.  Let’s just say ragamuffin.  That about sums it up.

And here’s the beauty…the gem…the Truth searing its way into a ragamuffin heart.  Now that I can distinguish that floundering weak fearful soul grasping for shelter and peace and escape…I can also see that the life raft doesn’t move with the tossing of the sea.  It is a cross…where a ransom was paid…where a Hero died…and conquered death…all to save a ragamuffin like me.  

And if all the pain and discomfort and fear and weakness drive me back to the arms of my Savior…they are but mere tools in a broken world devised to shut down counterfeit pink umbrellas.  And lay me bare before the True Peace Giver and Soul Restorer where I can rest…even in the darkest hours.

So when the power goes out and the storms are raging…look for the EYE of Hope…right there in the squall…in the battle…in the heat.  He’s waiting…wooing…with arms open wide to bring you into a place of rest and shield you from the world’s fury.  

Kneel.  Confess.   Ask.  Give thanks.  Repeat…Repeat…Repeat…

The cool air taunts as the morning frost glistens.  Melting into the noon warmth of October flame.  And my heart burns Grace.  And the haze of today’s horizon fades away with beaming promises blazing Glory.  


 "There is no way to peace along the way of safety.  For peace must be dared, it is itself the great venture and can never be safe.  Peace is the opposite of security.  To demand guarantees is to want to protect oneself.  Peace means giving oneself completely to God's commandment, wanting no security, but in faith and obedience laying the destiny of the nations in the hand of Almighty God, not trying to direct it for selfish purposes.  Battles are won, not with weapons, but with God.  They are won when the way leads to the cross."- Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Exiled

"Nothing can make injustice just but mercy." -Robert Frost

"Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge."-William Shakespear

"If God is Love, He is by definition something more than mere kindness. And it appears from all the records that though He has often rebuked us and condemned us, He has never regarded us with contempt. He has paid us the intolerable compliment of loving us in the deepest, most tragic, most inexorable sense." - C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain.


A prayer for Mercy. 

The title above the large 5 perched to the side of the wispy sheet.  It is chapter 5 of Lamentations.  A book reeking devastation.   And the words quake right off the page.   

A lonely city weeping bitterly in the night.  Once blooming and prosperous, now desolate and bare.  

The Israelites exiled.

They became prisoners in a foreign land.  Slaves of a foreign people.  Ripped from their home.  Their country.  Their comforts.  

Their leaders and family slaughtered and scattered.  Starved and ravaged.  Mocked and scorned.  And shame rankled the hearts of these wayward souls.

“There is no one to deliver us” -Lamentations 5:8.  Their cries swell hallowed hurt…

…and there wasn’t.  There was no other country coming for them.  To fight for them…protect them… and take them back to their homeland.  There wasn’t anyone who cared for these souls… that they were desolate and deserted and enduring heinous atrocities.

The searing pain of their cries resonates real life stories I hear and live every day.  In this broken battered crumbling world.  And hot tears surge as I echo their calls…

 Mercy.                        Mercy.                        Mercy. 

I cry out for them too.  Knowing what it’s like to walk in the shame of my own rebellion. 
 
Wilting in a steaming mess made by “my own will be done” and constructing towers of Babel collapsing to rubble.

He’s taken me out into the wilderness away from comforts that soothe and secure.

And let me pass into raging waters of a ferocious sea.

He’s let the burning sands of desert lands expose my spirit drought.

And taken away earthly treasures precious to me.

I’ve felt lost…forgotten…alone and unloved.  Longing for rescue and relief.

I hear their bitter cries.  Pleading.  Hurting.  Faint of heart.

Who will save them?   For there is “no one to deliver us”.  

He had to let them know…Who could…for He loved them more than He loved their “happiness”…for it did not include Him…and in the end…their “happiness” was counterfeit.   Its dividends intoxicating right to the grave.  

“For the Lord will not reject forever,
For if He causes grief,
Then He will have compassion
According to His abundant lovingkindness”  –Lamentations 3:31-32

God Alone Saves.  He did then and He does now.  For He “is the same yesterday and today and forever” –Hebrews 13:8.   And I will sing it to the end of my days for it has been my song of Saving Grace.  Liberating my soul and opening my eyes to deep fountain joys…even in the darkest places.

September 28 marked one year.  What God has done in one year has been nothing short of glorious.  The healing from hardship and patience from endurance has been one big boot camp.  And bulldozing pride barriers to ripping up heart weeds has tilled new soil in deep places where He has brought the rain.  

“Restore us to You, O Lord, that we may be restored” -Lamentations 5:21.

And He doesn’t stop short of deliverance…He restores.  And I love here where it says He starts…”US to YOU”.  He restores us to Himself…that we may be restored.  This.  Is.  The Beginning…  To Real Life living…

May restoration and Grace thrive in our broken places.  May God deliver us from our bondage and rescue us from the rubble of our own wrecking ball.  May He walk with us in foreign wastelands where currents of life have carried us.  May we bow low before His light so we can see His work and beauty.  And may we run to Him after we fall so that shame does not blot out His tender mercies.   

And when you feel alone and hope is waning and the day's light is grey…cry out to the Deliverer…mercy….mercy…mercy….   He WILL come for you...and rescue you…right where you are.