Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Do Not Be Afraid


It's a long way up to reaching perspective and to be honest I scarcely want to make the trip. I'd rather sit tight down here, where it's safe, where the risk can be avoided. Is that living though? Is that trusting at all?

You say that in the stillness You are with me, in the madness You are there, but in order to really process that, I have to let go of the fear. Even though it seems more like a condition, fear is really an option. I can choose it, or I can refuse it, so why do I choose it?

I don't understand why You take away, but I never do question when You give. Embracing blessing is easy, but when it comes to the lesson? Oh, let's do without that please. I don't want to be like that anymore. I want to say with an honest heart that You are good when I can't see past my own tears. I want to feel You near when the most precious of treasures have gone away. I want to rely on You in all things, to see You as more valuable than any other trivial distraction.

I know that its hard right now, but You knew that it would be, even before I was born into this world. You know the reason for every tear that slips from my eyes, You see the purpose in all my suffering. I want to see what You see, to take steps forward, steps with courage. In the midst of a trial is the worst possible time I could test out my own strength, seeing how far it will get me. Right now I need You and You alone.

I won't say that the future doesn't scare me, that change doesn't hurt, but I will say this...I know that You are with me and You will always be with me and that will be enough.

"Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him and He will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun." ~Psalm 37:5-6

Thursday, January 31, 2013

A Beautiful Mess


And when You call my name
Never let me turn my back


We have skilled ourselves in the art of faking peace, projecting an image of tranquility when in reality there is a war going on inside of us. We know our own strength will at least get us somewhere, far enough until the pool runs dry. The tank is empty and so are we, wondering why we let our pride get the best of us this time.



We shut Him out without even knowing it sometimes, thinking we can ignore Him and reap the benefits of His presence, while clinging to our selfish priorities. We turn off one switch at a time and gradually the life grows darker, then before we can say we didn't mean it, we're tripping over traps we set for ourselves in the dark. And all it takes is one whisper, one sincere cry of repentance, but it takes us so long to realize we have sinned.


"Just tell me what I've done! Show me how I've sinned so that I can feel you again!"

"Pride." He says this softly and we pretend we didn't hear it. Pride? That doesn't count, does it? There must be something else. That's all too simple for us to accept.

The truth is, pride isn't simple, it's serious. It's not harmless, it's disgusting. We see it as a means of self-reliance, when in reality it's the road to self-destruction. God loves a broken and contrite heart, a heart that knows it needs. A heart that is sorry and ashamed, tired and aware. That's the kind of heart that God wants us to bring Him when we ask for forgiveness. All too often we bring puffed up hearts, masked with layers of "I'm sorry's" that are anything but sincere. He see's it all, who are we kidding? He see's that heart that says "I'm sorry if I did anything," and grieves at the very sight of it.

So if we know that He will never tire of a broken heart, why do we try so hard to piece it together ourselves, handing Him a mess that says it's clean? He see's through that nonsense, we're only fooling ourselves. He wants our broken hearts, because He loves enough to heal. He wants our ugly mess, because in His eyes that is humility, that is beauty.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Whiter Than Snow


"Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; 
Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow."
~Psalm 51:7


It's dark, this feeling of remorse. I know that there isn't anything I can do to rid myself of it. No matter how many times I exercise my own strength, its still not enough.

I walk through the house, pulling doors shut and covering the windows with any sheet or board that I can get my hands on. I don't want You to see me like this, so I think that running from You is my only solution. The truth is though, it has only grown worse with time. I trip over everything unknown, because I've closed out all the light. I can't feel You with me, because I've locked You out. All that I can think to do is give up, give up on everything. I sink to the floor and bury my face in my hands, hoping You won't see my shame, but knowing all the while that You do.

You're the only one here in these moments, speaking to me even when I choose not to listen. No one else see's these dark moments, because covering the windows has blinded their eyes from all that is going on. Closing the doors has kept them out, but I know that I can never keep You out. No door is too thick and no thorn is too sharp to scare You away.


I just don't understand it and I doubt that I ever will. Why would You care for someone like me? After all I've done and all I continue to do, it doesn't make sense.
I thought that I had reached the point of no return, ran too fast and too far, but looking down I see it now, that You've been holding my hand all along. I thought I lost You, but it was me who was lost. When I ask to be clean You do not turn away. You wash me again and I can't help but marvel at the kindness of Your heart.

Sunday, December 30, 2012

I Guess That's It, Then.


I don't know where it goes sometimes. One moment you're laughing with your friends in the car, arm dangling out the window with the summer wind smacking against your skin and the stereo loud, then next thing you know you're waking up to a snowy morning. The falling leaves told me it was coming, but I didn't notice until all the trees were left bare. Change has a way of happening gradually and since it does, I hardly notice it even taking place. Once the old is gone and the new has wiggled its way into the mundane, I finally step back to realize it and then I ask myself where it went, all that time and did I spend it as I should have?

It's funny how so much can happen in just 365 days. All those emotions knitted together into one ugly sweater that fits just right. I'm glad to have it behind me now, but parts of it I know I'll always hold dear. There was pain and there was wonder, it was a beautiful kind of mess. There was growth and lots of it. Lessons were learned and made note of, so that they'd never have to repeat themselves again. There were plenty of tears, hitting rock bottom more than once and then there was victory in the practice of taking a single step at a time. I wouldn't have pictured myself here, but then again, I'm not quite sure what I would have pictured. Life has its ways of doing everything you didn't expect and sometimes its best that way.

The new year is right around the corner and to be honest I am terrified. I know that things will change and feelings will be taken away that can never be replaced. I know that life will throw its curve balls, catching me off guard and sending me tumbling down again. I know I'll make messes and let people down. I know that other people will let me down too. All I'm certain about is the uncertainty of it all and frankly that scares me, but it doesn't stop me either. There is a kind of excitement in one big slate of empty. There are moments out there waiting for me, ready to shape me into who I'm suppose to be. There is time waiting to be filled, not time waiting to be killed. 2013 is days away and I am plenty afraid, but the more I think on it, I know it is a healthy sort of fear.

I'm not going to make any great resolutions, tying myself to expectations that I might never reach. I think I'm just going to take it slow this year, putting one foot in front of the other and living in the moment. Time might never be on my side, so I'm not going to try and manipulate it any longer. I don't know how much time I have left, God only knows that, but I do know that I don't want to be selfish about it, hoarding it all to myself.

So I guess that's it then. So long, 2012. You've been interesting. I'm not sad to see you go, but I'll be taking pieces of you with me. As for you 2013...I'll see you in a couple of days.

Happy new year, friends! Thanks for stopping by and if you're reading this, please drop me a comment and let me know what's on your mind this new years. Resolutions? Reflections? Excitement? Fear? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

The Lights That Still Shine After Christmas




It's the day after Christmas and all the celebrations and traditions are behind us. We gathered up all our memories, recognized how much we are blessed and still rejoice because our Savior is with us. Lights are still wrapped along banisters and strung about the house, but even with all their colors, they could never keep out the kind of darkness that still remains for some.

Crinkled wrapping paper remains have been cleared away from the floor, but there is one gift that is yet to be unwrapped. It isn't just any gift though, it's the greatest gift of all time. It's the free gift of Christ's love and for some, it might never be opened.

The thing that saddens me most is how close the world came. It was right in front of their faces. They sang about Christ the Savior being born in Bethlehem and how He's come to save us from our sins. The words were coming out of their mouths, but their hearts didn't even begin to understand. They were looking, but they weren't really seeing. They were hearing, but they weren't even listening.

There's a broken world out there, people walk around as if they were whole, but the emptiness eats at them every day. They've walked in darkness all year long, but for 25 days in December they peeked at the light. They saw something, but they didn't know how to hold onto it. I know this because I was one of them once and let me tell you something...I saw something colorful, a love that ruled a believing life and I wanted that. I saw that joy and I knew I needed that. I turned from my sins because I was told that His arms would be wide open and they were. Another Christian showed me the light and little by little, God pulled me out of my blind cave. We've got to love like that, so that others will want to know why. We've got to walk in the light, because somewhere someone out there is hungry for change.

My sin has pulled me back for so long and even though I still cling to it sometimes, I know its time to shake it off, all that fear. If we are children of light then we'd better start acting like it, otherwise we have nothing offer to a hurting world. He is the light, we are His children and that makes us children of Light. We don't get taken down after Christmas to be stored away in the basement for next year, tempting as that is, its just not an option. A heart never has a break from beating and if it does then it becomes useless. The sun comes up every day and when it does we know its there. We have to live like that, otherwise we're as good as dark.

"He redeemed my soul from going down to the pit, and I will live to enjoy the light." ~Job 33:28



Thursday, December 20, 2012

Restless


Clean this heart and make sense of it. Peel away the filth from my grasp, even though I still cling to it with these hands, I don't want it. What I want is to be rid of it.

As for the thoughts that come on me like a plague in the night, robbing me of rest at reasonable hours; let them be understood. I do not ask that You take them from me completely, for that leaves behind a certain sense of failure, puzzles that were left half-finished and then thrown back into the box.

So make sense, if You will, of these musings, because I have finally come to the end of myself. I won't pretend that my need for You is little, neither will I aim at understanding just how great my need for You really is. The arrow would never reach the mark, for the human mind is so small and I am convinced that my mind must be smaller than most's, for if it were a decent enough size, I doubt that it would threaten, as it does so often, to burst.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Just Because My Eyes Are Closed Doesn't Mean Its Dark



Rivers don't always come in water, sometimes they make appearances in the form of light. We're like little boats, floating along golden rapids. This could be beautiful, if we didn't so often keep our eyes clamped shut from seeing it. It's like we know its there, the light, but choose to hide from it. Perhaps it is the fear of being without darkness, those small tastes of shadows, the little doses that we seem to be able to justify if rationed into small proportions.

The fact is, sin is sin and darkness can never be light. I know its hard to swallow, that concept, perhaps though it isn't so much the fact itself that leaves us feeling so uneasy, but the feeling that we don't want to let go of. Its like we don't want to be separated from it, because somehow we tell ourselves we can never be complete if left without it. We all seem to land right there in the middle, lukewarm waters, half light, half dark, or so we think. There really is no middle ground. Light is light and dark is dark, so why are we so easily confused between the two?

Do you know that feeling of alarm? Perhaps you've felt it in the middle of the night, when someone flipped on the light switch when you weren't expecting it. Its not that you despised the light itself, but that you were more comfortable in the darkness. It hurts a little at first, stings the eyes and often exposes some bed head that you didn't want anyone else to see. It just takes a little getting use to, that's all. We think we're better off in the dark, but once we come out of it, awaken our senses, we see how much better it is to be living in the light.

Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a half lit room, like I'm pulling up that dimmer switch with all my finger muscles, but it isn't moving an inch and frankly I don't want it to. Its like I'm telling God its glued there, that I don't have any control, but I know in my head somewhere, in the back of my mind, that I'm the one holding it in place.

It's a beautiful privilege to be paddling along this river of light. The waters are liquid gold, shimmering and always pleasant. I love it here. I just wish I wouldn't cover my eyes so often, muddying the waters by indulging in the occasional shadow.