Totes wrong about who needed protection. Although, realistically, we all do. From ourselves, from temptation, from one another, from all the things/being which want to just totally wreck us out of spite and loathing.
Everything at this point is so utterly confusing. All the more grateful and glad that God is in control. For real. And that it's written that His will prevails, no matter what anyone plans in their heart. All of the things are very strange.
And was reminded earlier about a conversation--one of the last very long-ish ones which involved dialogue with the enemy, of his threats being given in broad form to attempt to dissuade (rather than in very brief and specific form as when coming through other particular people). Whole attempt to threaten me that he'll know the thoughts and plans I have and will destroy and absolutely derail anything using whatever I'm aware of against me and against God, as such. Which, again, isn't personal...it's just about hatred of God and I just happen to be someone who is His and the attacks are just this direct because it's possible. If I refused to acknowledge their existence and were in denial about spiritual reality, there'd be no reason for wasting time. Even bothering to draw my attention to themselves would actually be counterproductive if I were the least doubtful of the substantial reality of spiritual matters, given that would make such a one exceedingly aware of what had been theretofore at least consciously uncertain (at the cost of even deeper relationship with God, Himself). But, anyway. Whatever.
The threats were regarding God's will and His leading. That they would know what He reveals and would do everything in their power, using my own knowledge of His immediate will against Him. Interjecting. Interposing madness. Sideswiping. Whatever. No holds barred. Saying they would absolutely crush, basically, and devastate whatever His plans were. Devastating me in the process. Using whatever He'd revealed to me of His will to plot counter-attacks.
But the thing is...He knows what they're going to attempt before they do. Same of me, same of everyone. Every thought, every impulse, every word, every action. He is wholly aware of it all. So even if and when He does let me know what His will is of particular matters, whatever the enemy attempts to do to sideline them isn't sufficient to overcome the force of His will. Period.
It's not as though He reveals something and then realizes too late that it's going to be attacked. Look at what Herod did to the infants and toddlers of Bethlehem. God revealed His will in ages prior, then when He revealed it to others more locally...the enemy sought to overwhelm and destroy God's plan. And failed. Because God also knew what the enemy was going to attempt, before the enemy did so. And He moved His own out of the way of the blade just before it fell.
Again and again. So, not a concern. He does the same with us all, just most don't necessarily become aware of the matter this side of eternity, perhaps. Or not very aware of it, maybe.
But, yeah. God's will will be done. Nothing can countermand nor oust His will. Just not a thing. Doesn't matter who knows what or who does what or however. He has always known and will always know everything before it becomes a Thing. The One who reveals the end from the beginning, remember? And in such a way that it cannot even be understood until after the things have come to pass, yet each and every lines up precisely with His predictions..
So, yeah. All the more glad to know nothing, want nothing, and surrender all. Because I love the Lord and I love others, all by His grace. So far be it from me to grasp onto knowing anything if it would only tend to be abused by the enemy in attempt to torment or do harm to God's elect or anyone. All the more to cling to the simplicity of Christ and be well with knowing nothing else. Pain and grief don't overwhelm to detract from joy, in that context. They aren't undermined, but neither are they permitted whatsoever to overwhelm and cripple.
I will, by the grace of God, strive to know nothing but Christ, then. For the sake of loving Him and for the sake of all else, whomever. Because there's nothing else, really. Details, just so many details. Love is the whole of the law, in essence. And it's far beyond me to fulfill. But He did, and I live in Him. So...that's all.
If this is what Paul meant, then, of seeking to know nothing except Christ whilst among some...then howsoever. But, in as much as there's anything in me to give to the efforts, I will not be a tool or a means by which the enemy will work madness and destruction and chaos. Sin has no dominion and neither does Satan. He tried to get me to call on him for any help I might ever need. He tried to scare me. And he tried to get me to take pity on him, have sympathy for him, have him as a friend. But God is my witness I refuse to have sympathy for those who actively and intentionally hate my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. And I will not cower or run from attack, because even as of given to say then...God is superior in all ways, the Creator and Sovereign Ruler of all. And He is my Father, and He is my guide and my keeper. My fortress and even as my husband, as it were. So neither will I call upon anyone else. Because Jesus protects, provides for, disciples, instructs, leads, and cares for me in all ways necessary to life and good and prosperity and happiness and purpose. He is my constant companion.
So whatever is attempted, it's only as Jesus permits. And only to the extent He will allow--and He always restrains so much. And He always turns to good whatever comes against and upon those who love Him. Even if it's unto and regarding their deaths, then He does use it to good.
Just as the Son of God's death was turned to the good of all who come to Him in faith, repenting and knowing their need of redemption, forgiveness, deliverance, and sanctification. Then same, each of His saints. The death of the saints led to a current apologetic for the proof of the truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, one which has led to the conversion of many through all the time since their martyrdoms.
Even so, then, for each since. And for each grief, pain, heartache, and whatever the like of any who are His.
What the enemy intends for evil, He truly turns to good. Period. There's no middle ground there. No deliberation. No answer against that truth. Because it holds true. Because He is omnipotent and good and all-knowing and faithful. Because He is.
So whatever, of the enemies machinations. Whatever. May the Lord, Himself, rebuke you all for what you have attempted and what is still being attempted, whatever madness it is. The all rests in His hands. Period. So, that's all. End of every single fight on these fronts, and as always, I refer each and every power that be, as ever attempting to oust His dominion and peace, to Christ Himself. Because He is the One to whom I must refer for all things. And so all else who would come to me seeking anything will ultimately always be referred to Him.
So after multiple weeks of surrendering again, there is nothing left except ongoing redirection to Christ. And I hope and pray He continue on this manner. Because He does intervene, even as such. Gladly.
I will enter any darkness as He leads. Knowing always that He goes with me. Leading. That is everything. There would be no other reason to live.
And as He is the One who does lead me, then He always and also directs my steps even unawares. So I rest secure in knowing that whatever the enemy attempts, even if at the very last moment the Lord will move me as He would deem wisest to either only receive passing blow or none at all. And if He so chooses that I would endure the brunt of any, even unto death from this world, then I have been and will continue by His grace to rest securely in the knowledge that it is for good and will be used for good and it is by His will. So I don't care, apart from that. Whatever His will.
Facing death all day on the daily makes it a lot easier to remain surrendered, for sure. I would never in my life have expected to be so grateful for such a thing as that. To be hounded by death? Yeah. Whatever. My life is in Christ's hands. Same as everyone. So there's nothing to fear, because I trust Him. And if I am not going to fear death, then why in all of creation would I fear anything else? Except God, Himself. Whom I do fear and love supremely. By His grace, longing for both to increase, all the more.
Thursday, March 30, 2017
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
In The Valley
The Lord is so awesome. He does things that are just...incomprehensible. And so unexpected. Just having Him make Himself known, or "appearing," or however you will...in the midst of circumstances that otherwise are trying and odd and overwhelming...is such a beautiful, wonderful...well, nothing is apt, but perhaps...maybe glorious evidence of His ever-present concern, His encompassing love, and His sovereignty.
And for the first, today, to have someone say they "want what [I] have," emphatically, insistently, twice in public forum and without regard for the others listening...
...not exalting, though to be exulted in of grace extended for such an instance to ever pass the lips of anyone in regard to what's evidenced(?) of mine. And all in context of talking through the grace of God. I have Christ. That's all. The only thing. Everything.
Though He is not a "thing." He's just too far beyond comprehension for "someone" to feel sufficient. He is beyond all.
There still keeps coming the thought that "things may get so much worse before they get better," of particular matters. And of the all of life, at present. And it does tempt me to want to brace myself, quite frankly (rather than to remain grounded in trusting God moment by moment). Tempts me sorely, as so many things attempt. But I'm not giving in. Though I may let the voice even have speech, at times, it's utterly irrelevant. Because it doesn't matter what happens, God is sovereign. And He's sovereignly in charge of whatever comes every bit as much as He's been sovereignly in charge of everything which has come. Such that life hasn't left me, yet, and I can praise Him in the land of the living, still. Despite the numerous attempts to the contrary and the recklessness which peppered life, prior to surrender.
He sovereignly ordained that life wouldn't be allowed to leave, to this point. And He knows the number of my days, even now. And each tear and every sigh and every laugh and every song. So whatever comes, it will have to pass through Him in order to draw near. And no matter how grievous or trying or difficult or impossible...He will be there, still. So it'll ultimately be something He will bring me to rejoice during. Even as now, in the midst of continued uncertainty, grief, and turmoil. I could loathe that the battle hasn't ended and griefs remain unabated, but instead, I'm going to glory in Christ's sufficiency and love. In the midst of it. Because He's been gracious enough to bring to a point of doing so.
Which I'm not foolish enough to consider of my own strength or ability to manage or maintain. No--I'm so easily distracted and overwhelmed, except that I rest in Him, remaining steadfastly grounded in the simplicity of Christ. Which He must maintain despite my penchant for allowing curiosity to draw my gaze to matters which ever seem to offer a means of drawing nearer through knowledge, though more regularly tending to keep my attention overlong unto distraction from Him. And even of fellowship, apparently. But He is faithful to draw and to restrain, so I've witnessed that He's also both willing and able to afford what's necessary and restrict what becomes distraction. He realigns my focus. He is my Shepherd.
And for the first, today, to have someone say they "want what [I] have," emphatically, insistently, twice in public forum and without regard for the others listening...
...not exalting, though to be exulted in of grace extended for such an instance to ever pass the lips of anyone in regard to what's evidenced(?) of mine. And all in context of talking through the grace of God. I have Christ. That's all. The only thing. Everything.
Though He is not a "thing." He's just too far beyond comprehension for "someone" to feel sufficient. He is beyond all.
There still keeps coming the thought that "things may get so much worse before they get better," of particular matters. And of the all of life, at present. And it does tempt me to want to brace myself, quite frankly (rather than to remain grounded in trusting God moment by moment). Tempts me sorely, as so many things attempt. But I'm not giving in. Though I may let the voice even have speech, at times, it's utterly irrelevant. Because it doesn't matter what happens, God is sovereign. And He's sovereignly in charge of whatever comes every bit as much as He's been sovereignly in charge of everything which has come. Such that life hasn't left me, yet, and I can praise Him in the land of the living, still. Despite the numerous attempts to the contrary and the recklessness which peppered life, prior to surrender.
He sovereignly ordained that life wouldn't be allowed to leave, to this point. And He knows the number of my days, even now. And each tear and every sigh and every laugh and every song. So whatever comes, it will have to pass through Him in order to draw near. And no matter how grievous or trying or difficult or impossible...He will be there, still. So it'll ultimately be something He will bring me to rejoice during. Even as now, in the midst of continued uncertainty, grief, and turmoil. I could loathe that the battle hasn't ended and griefs remain unabated, but instead, I'm going to glory in Christ's sufficiency and love. In the midst of it. Because He's been gracious enough to bring to a point of doing so.
Which I'm not foolish enough to consider of my own strength or ability to manage or maintain. No--I'm so easily distracted and overwhelmed, except that I rest in Him, remaining steadfastly grounded in the simplicity of Christ. Which He must maintain despite my penchant for allowing curiosity to draw my gaze to matters which ever seem to offer a means of drawing nearer through knowledge, though more regularly tending to keep my attention overlong unto distraction from Him. And even of fellowship, apparently. But He is faithful to draw and to restrain, so I've witnessed that He's also both willing and able to afford what's necessary and restrict what becomes distraction. He realigns my focus. He is my Shepherd.
Tuesday, March 28, 2017
Being Borne
Was reminded today that the battle isn't mine. It's not about me. And the things that have been haranguing, plaguing, belittling, sewing suspicions unto divisiveness, tormenting, and otherwise attempting to convince of all evil and doubt and fear and misgivings about myself, the Lord, and others...are evil. But they aren't sovereign. Whereas, Jesus Christ most certainly is. So being tempted to give in to all manner of self-flagellation for the sake of surrendering to what amounts to continual assaults by varied temptations...isn't about me, isn't of me, isn't in control, and most certainly isn't of Him. He overcame. And in Him, so have I.
He freed me from all manner of wickedness, and being plagued by guilt over being harassed into near-despondency and abject confusion (apart from the peace of the Lord) doesn't change the fact that Christ bore my sins and sin no longer has dominion over me. Which I'm fully aware doesn't mean I don't sin. But it means that I have One to whom I turn and confess, who is faithful and just to forgive and cleanse from all wickedness. Ongoing. Seemingly incremental. Sometimes seeming to be cyclic. But cumulative, nonetheless.
So temptation isn't a thing borne without hope. He always gives a means of escaping it. And never allows it be more than what I can bear, and always provides a way of escape. All the worse to ever be overtaken, in context of reflecting on His goodness, love, and grace. But, striving onward. And whatever is necessary to continue after Him, putting to death the deeds of the flesh, setting aside the weights that encumber...so be it by His grace working in me accomplished. Regardless of me. Because He is the one in charge of me.
As far as defiance goes, then let it be now put to use against the wiles of the enemy. I was so defiant. For so many so-called reasons. I refused to listen to people, no matter how convincing, unless it made sense. Had to learn things the hard way, my own way. And I did take into account things I was told with intent to restrict and direct me, but it didn't define my path ultimately. When I did submit, it was a concession according to my own reasons. And not all of that prior bit was a fleshly, sinful tendency. Otherwise, there'd not have been a redemption unto conviction and persistence as has been to prompt following the Lord at the expense of all people known to me, prior. Every relationship that He showed to be untenable--no matter how painful, either completely broken after sharing howsoever as possible the Gospel...or so utterly reduced as to be non-existent, now.
Not an easy pursuit. Never was, before, and although when I left family and moved cross-country before it was for the sake of saving myself (unto death)...against all advice and against all expectation...for the sake of pursuing whatever could be pursued, unto life, I went. Even carrying the idea of death with me. At least to try. To be free of what was killing me, though slightly expecting to die nonetheless. For the sake of pursuing what seemed right, good, and necessary. I did whatever it took. Even including waiting 9 years to be able to pursue one particular ideal, of life in New Orleans--the only place I'd ever felt at home, accepted, until now walking in presence of God.
Before moving to Florida in 2002, I went to the girl who'd agreed to move to New Orleans with me first--expecting she was still in on our deal to go there and work toward having a coffee shop/bookstore. She recanted without a second thought, and even laughed at me. Sure, we'd made the agreement sometime probably 1994 (a year after experiencing feeling at home--feeling hope for myself, for the first ever sincerely grasped--there)...but I thought it still stood. It took another three years to get there--the only people I could get to leave WV were set on the Tampa area. But I'd decided in sixth grade it would be nice to live at the beach, so that seemed good to attempt. And did it. And it was okay.
But it wasn't New Orleans. I still didn't feel at ease. And then, New Orleans. And feeling at ease. And being assaulted on all fronts, again and again, unto death. Never so dire as could have been encountered, but only because of grace. But the further mired in, the darker life became, and the nearer death. And people tried to warn me against staying there, in 2005--said it would kill me. And I had a feeling it would, but felt obligated to go and do and "give" as much as I could, whatever the cost. Even wanting and hoping and longing for change to spring up, there, though not exactly through me.
But it did kill me, once. Nearly so, except the Lord also delivered, a couple times intentionally more. And only He knows how many times else He preserved my life, in the midst of the chaos. I used to think of it something like going into the underbelly of all society, completely off the grid, totally off the radar. In the darkest pit of darkness. Because as much as other metropolitan areas are dark and dangerous and all manner of chaotic, they aren't consciously and actively seeking spiritual forces and worshipping them, outright. Whereas, in New Orleans, there's a conscious nod to the spiritual, and to demons particularly. Socially acceptable to many. Or in the social circles I ran in, at least. How much deeper the darkness, then.
Eh. Anyway. Point being, if the stubborn/persistent/tenacious/dogged determination streak was so used to defy God, then all the more had it ought be redeemed unto pursuit of Him at any and all costs. And He has been redeeming it, as such. Despite detours which have revealed my penchant for still seeking to tangibly understand anything and everything ...or to know things and be accepted...at the expense of reliance upon Him for revelation, direction, and company, outright. As seeking counsel and striving for acceptance amongst those blindly accepted as godly, while refusing to heed His conviction in the face of being told things which run counter to His will.
He's been working on that, though. So, not nearly as bad recently as it had been, last year. I don't expect to be drawn into weirdness and error by folks who are near to Him. But we're definitely all at the mercy of God, and fall prey to temptations as only are common to one another unless we remain perfectly submitted to Him (yeah, about that...there was One who came..). So it happens. And usually totally unawares after the fact, apparently.
Being laughed at by a bunch of demons through a church crowd is unnerving, to say the least. But, again--whatever. It doesn't matter. Just all the more to surrender. And I've been blatantly manipulated as such once (to my knowledge, as it goes) since coming to know the Lord, if only for a couple minutes of dazed inability to respond and think rationally. But...live and learn. And all the more to seek and remain in the refuge of the Lord, then. Because He's bigger, stronger, and impenetrable. The other used confusion and fear and shock and uncertainty to gain sufficient foothold to then suppress. All being opposed to faith, love, peace, and trust.
But the Lord has let me see. And didn't let me fall fully into the pit of beating myself up over the ordeal, despite there was legitimate grief to note my failure to love and be steadfast. All the more to resolve to remain near to Him, even though the process of being drawn back out of myself and out of idolatry of others is decidedly painful. Less so this time than last, for having not run quite so deeply and rampant. Though differing in particular consistencies, as not without hope in the Lord of the all, now, too. Committing all unto Him means all and sundry, regardless.
Trusting. Yet not blindly. Because He is known.
But it's what it is. And whatever it is, it's in the Lord's hands. And that's enough. And He'll lead and keep moment by moment, henceforth, and have to continue to deliver me unto Himself all the while. Because I am not capable. But He's willing and able.
So, there's kind of a two-fold thing, here. On the one hand, recognizing again with slight more clarity failing to honor the Lord sufficiently, thus allowing room for temptations such as unto fears and despairing and all the madness else. And on the other hand, resolving all the more, again, to trust Him to keep me near. Because even my stubbornness is only as good as His keeping. Otherwise, I'd just be stubbornly defying Him all the while thinking myself remaining steadfast in the faith.
So, thus now being more consciously surrendered to Him for redemption as He sees fit--as of all the things of self were, though each is individually being called for collection still (which is so confounding to me--to surrender entirely at the outset, abjectly despairing of self entire in light of witnessing Him and His incomprehensible goodness, purity, love, and worthiness...and yet have each individual bit come up, particular, for a more consciously regarded surrender? Just wild.)...then let Him set my forehead beyond flint to honoring Him, seeking Him, doing His will. Not fearing man nor any created being, over all of whom He truly and wholly has sovereign dominion. Because His will will be done, ultimately at every turn. To His glory.
So, what once tendency was given to evil may He redeem all the more to good. Which isn't of me, ever it comes. But He's willing, and I'm available. At His mercy. But ever the more set to pursue at any cost, if unto Him and honoring Him. That is enough. Because He is worthy.
And that's also one of the main reasons that I don't expect to ever have a second (or a first?...me as number two?). Because whatever would get in the way has to go. And even if I'm not strong enough to ensure it be so, I trust Him to do so. Because I don't want my will. The things I want...I have and will continue to surrender to Him, whenever they crop up. No matter that some things sometimes do seem very much to be of Him and of His will--I trust Him to clarify, I trust Him to take away from me (no matter how painfully) those things which aren't in fact His will. I am easily deceived, except He clarify and preserve. But I trust Him.
Seriously. He's delivered me again and again. And again. All my life, really, despite the many years wandering through all the dark corners which seemed distinct enough to warrant exploring as some previously "unknown" avenue...ultimately, the search was and is for truth. And Jesus is the Truth. The Truth.
And there's still confusion, but He'll bring me back to simplicity. Or whatever approximation thereof suits His will and making of me, but just as unto clarity of Him as foremost.
Today, though. The reminders. The battle being waged isn't my own. And He is sovereign. In tandem, very liberating. Remembering who He is and what He's done and what His will is.
He clarifies or there's no clarification. He justifies or there is no justification. He delivers or there is no deliverance. He saves or there is no salvation. In Christ, alone, all hope is found.
And all the day, today, in training...talk about hope. Again and again. And the recurrent theme of the training as to classify and describe and outline and give standardized procedures for the particular role He's led me to, of current financially gainful occupation...yesterday, was described in context of the whole "light at the end of the tunnel," saying. But (and this is paraphrase of the trainer) we go to people who may not even see the light, at this point. We go to them in the darkness and take their hand and tell them there is light.
And, further today, another parsed it down to...not being about the light at the end of the tunnel, we go and hold their hand in the dark.
Remembering all these things before the Lord on the way home from church, tonight, He struck me to realize something. In context of remembering willing entering darkness and thereafter being assaulted on all sides, yet not giving up except unto God. I'm not alone there, in the fight, in the darkness.
So by all means, if (or, more precisely as given: when) I enter darkness to take the hand of someone so enshrouded as to no longer see light...I will take their hand and be alongside and endure their battles, too. But I don't care what anyone else chooses to do...if I'm going to join someone in the darkness, I'm bringing a Light.
Which doesn't mean I won't struggle, stumble, or fall.
What matters, though?: He never will.
His faithfulness is astounding.
He freed me from all manner of wickedness, and being plagued by guilt over being harassed into near-despondency and abject confusion (apart from the peace of the Lord) doesn't change the fact that Christ bore my sins and sin no longer has dominion over me. Which I'm fully aware doesn't mean I don't sin. But it means that I have One to whom I turn and confess, who is faithful and just to forgive and cleanse from all wickedness. Ongoing. Seemingly incremental. Sometimes seeming to be cyclic. But cumulative, nonetheless.
So temptation isn't a thing borne without hope. He always gives a means of escaping it. And never allows it be more than what I can bear, and always provides a way of escape. All the worse to ever be overtaken, in context of reflecting on His goodness, love, and grace. But, striving onward. And whatever is necessary to continue after Him, putting to death the deeds of the flesh, setting aside the weights that encumber...so be it by His grace working in me accomplished. Regardless of me. Because He is the one in charge of me.
As far as defiance goes, then let it be now put to use against the wiles of the enemy. I was so defiant. For so many so-called reasons. I refused to listen to people, no matter how convincing, unless it made sense. Had to learn things the hard way, my own way. And I did take into account things I was told with intent to restrict and direct me, but it didn't define my path ultimately. When I did submit, it was a concession according to my own reasons. And not all of that prior bit was a fleshly, sinful tendency. Otherwise, there'd not have been a redemption unto conviction and persistence as has been to prompt following the Lord at the expense of all people known to me, prior. Every relationship that He showed to be untenable--no matter how painful, either completely broken after sharing howsoever as possible the Gospel...or so utterly reduced as to be non-existent, now.
Not an easy pursuit. Never was, before, and although when I left family and moved cross-country before it was for the sake of saving myself (unto death)...against all advice and against all expectation...for the sake of pursuing whatever could be pursued, unto life, I went. Even carrying the idea of death with me. At least to try. To be free of what was killing me, though slightly expecting to die nonetheless. For the sake of pursuing what seemed right, good, and necessary. I did whatever it took. Even including waiting 9 years to be able to pursue one particular ideal, of life in New Orleans--the only place I'd ever felt at home, accepted, until now walking in presence of God.
Before moving to Florida in 2002, I went to the girl who'd agreed to move to New Orleans with me first--expecting she was still in on our deal to go there and work toward having a coffee shop/bookstore. She recanted without a second thought, and even laughed at me. Sure, we'd made the agreement sometime probably 1994 (a year after experiencing feeling at home--feeling hope for myself, for the first ever sincerely grasped--there)...but I thought it still stood. It took another three years to get there--the only people I could get to leave WV were set on the Tampa area. But I'd decided in sixth grade it would be nice to live at the beach, so that seemed good to attempt. And did it. And it was okay.
But it wasn't New Orleans. I still didn't feel at ease. And then, New Orleans. And feeling at ease. And being assaulted on all fronts, again and again, unto death. Never so dire as could have been encountered, but only because of grace. But the further mired in, the darker life became, and the nearer death. And people tried to warn me against staying there, in 2005--said it would kill me. And I had a feeling it would, but felt obligated to go and do and "give" as much as I could, whatever the cost. Even wanting and hoping and longing for change to spring up, there, though not exactly through me.
But it did kill me, once. Nearly so, except the Lord also delivered, a couple times intentionally more. And only He knows how many times else He preserved my life, in the midst of the chaos. I used to think of it something like going into the underbelly of all society, completely off the grid, totally off the radar. In the darkest pit of darkness. Because as much as other metropolitan areas are dark and dangerous and all manner of chaotic, they aren't consciously and actively seeking spiritual forces and worshipping them, outright. Whereas, in New Orleans, there's a conscious nod to the spiritual, and to demons particularly. Socially acceptable to many. Or in the social circles I ran in, at least. How much deeper the darkness, then.
Eh. Anyway. Point being, if the stubborn/persistent/tenacious/dogged determination streak was so used to defy God, then all the more had it ought be redeemed unto pursuit of Him at any and all costs. And He has been redeeming it, as such. Despite detours which have revealed my penchant for still seeking to tangibly understand anything and everything ...or to know things and be accepted...at the expense of reliance upon Him for revelation, direction, and company, outright. As seeking counsel and striving for acceptance amongst those blindly accepted as godly, while refusing to heed His conviction in the face of being told things which run counter to His will.
He's been working on that, though. So, not nearly as bad recently as it had been, last year. I don't expect to be drawn into weirdness and error by folks who are near to Him. But we're definitely all at the mercy of God, and fall prey to temptations as only are common to one another unless we remain perfectly submitted to Him (yeah, about that...there was One who came..). So it happens. And usually totally unawares after the fact, apparently.
Being laughed at by a bunch of demons through a church crowd is unnerving, to say the least. But, again--whatever. It doesn't matter. Just all the more to surrender. And I've been blatantly manipulated as such once (to my knowledge, as it goes) since coming to know the Lord, if only for a couple minutes of dazed inability to respond and think rationally. But...live and learn. And all the more to seek and remain in the refuge of the Lord, then. Because He's bigger, stronger, and impenetrable. The other used confusion and fear and shock and uncertainty to gain sufficient foothold to then suppress. All being opposed to faith, love, peace, and trust.
But the Lord has let me see. And didn't let me fall fully into the pit of beating myself up over the ordeal, despite there was legitimate grief to note my failure to love and be steadfast. All the more to resolve to remain near to Him, even though the process of being drawn back out of myself and out of idolatry of others is decidedly painful. Less so this time than last, for having not run quite so deeply and rampant. Though differing in particular consistencies, as not without hope in the Lord of the all, now, too. Committing all unto Him means all and sundry, regardless.
Trusting. Yet not blindly. Because He is known.
But it's what it is. And whatever it is, it's in the Lord's hands. And that's enough. And He'll lead and keep moment by moment, henceforth, and have to continue to deliver me unto Himself all the while. Because I am not capable. But He's willing and able.
So, there's kind of a two-fold thing, here. On the one hand, recognizing again with slight more clarity failing to honor the Lord sufficiently, thus allowing room for temptations such as unto fears and despairing and all the madness else. And on the other hand, resolving all the more, again, to trust Him to keep me near. Because even my stubbornness is only as good as His keeping. Otherwise, I'd just be stubbornly defying Him all the while thinking myself remaining steadfast in the faith.
So, thus now being more consciously surrendered to Him for redemption as He sees fit--as of all the things of self were, though each is individually being called for collection still (which is so confounding to me--to surrender entirely at the outset, abjectly despairing of self entire in light of witnessing Him and His incomprehensible goodness, purity, love, and worthiness...and yet have each individual bit come up, particular, for a more consciously regarded surrender? Just wild.)...then let Him set my forehead beyond flint to honoring Him, seeking Him, doing His will. Not fearing man nor any created being, over all of whom He truly and wholly has sovereign dominion. Because His will will be done, ultimately at every turn. To His glory.
So, what once tendency was given to evil may He redeem all the more to good. Which isn't of me, ever it comes. But He's willing, and I'm available. At His mercy. But ever the more set to pursue at any cost, if unto Him and honoring Him. That is enough. Because He is worthy.
And that's also one of the main reasons that I don't expect to ever have a second (or a first?...me as number two?). Because whatever would get in the way has to go. And even if I'm not strong enough to ensure it be so, I trust Him to do so. Because I don't want my will. The things I want...I have and will continue to surrender to Him, whenever they crop up. No matter that some things sometimes do seem very much to be of Him and of His will--I trust Him to clarify, I trust Him to take away from me (no matter how painfully) those things which aren't in fact His will. I am easily deceived, except He clarify and preserve. But I trust Him.
Seriously. He's delivered me again and again. And again. All my life, really, despite the many years wandering through all the dark corners which seemed distinct enough to warrant exploring as some previously "unknown" avenue...ultimately, the search was and is for truth. And Jesus is the Truth. The Truth.
And there's still confusion, but He'll bring me back to simplicity. Or whatever approximation thereof suits His will and making of me, but just as unto clarity of Him as foremost.
Today, though. The reminders. The battle being waged isn't my own. And He is sovereign. In tandem, very liberating. Remembering who He is and what He's done and what His will is.
He clarifies or there's no clarification. He justifies or there is no justification. He delivers or there is no deliverance. He saves or there is no salvation. In Christ, alone, all hope is found.
And all the day, today, in training...talk about hope. Again and again. And the recurrent theme of the training as to classify and describe and outline and give standardized procedures for the particular role He's led me to, of current financially gainful occupation...yesterday, was described in context of the whole "light at the end of the tunnel," saying. But (and this is paraphrase of the trainer) we go to people who may not even see the light, at this point. We go to them in the darkness and take their hand and tell them there is light.
And, further today, another parsed it down to...not being about the light at the end of the tunnel, we go and hold their hand in the dark.
Remembering all these things before the Lord on the way home from church, tonight, He struck me to realize something. In context of remembering willing entering darkness and thereafter being assaulted on all sides, yet not giving up except unto God. I'm not alone there, in the fight, in the darkness.
So by all means, if (or, more precisely as given: when) I enter darkness to take the hand of someone so enshrouded as to no longer see light...I will take their hand and be alongside and endure their battles, too. But I don't care what anyone else chooses to do...if I'm going to join someone in the darkness, I'm bringing a Light.
Which doesn't mean I won't struggle, stumble, or fall.
What matters, though?: He never will.
His faithfulness is astounding.
Sunday, March 19, 2017
Saturday, March 18, 2017
Daily Bread Devo, March 16
Spilling Through My Fingers
March 16, 2017
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Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand . . . ?—Isaiah 40:12
After I clumsily knocked over my glass on the restaurant counter, the spilled beverage began to cascade over the edge and onto the floor. Out of sheer embarrassment, I tried to catch the waterfall with cupped hands. My efforts were largely unsuccessful; most of my beverage rushed through my fingers. In the end, my upturned palms held little more than a meager tablespoon each, while my feet stood in puddles.
My life feels similar on many days. I find myself scrambling to solve problems, oversee details, and control circumstances. No matter how hard I try, my feeble hands are incapable of managing all the pieces and parts. Something invariably slips through my fingers and pools on the floor at my feet, leaving me feeling overwhelmed. No amount of contorting my hands or squeezing my fingers more tightly together makes me able to handle it all.
Yet God can. Isaiah tells us that God can measure the globe’s waters—all the oceans and rivers and rain—in the hollow of His hands (40:12). Only His hands are large enough to hold them all. We needn’t try to hold more than the tablespoon He’s designed our hands to carry. When we feel overwhelmed, we can entrust our cares and concerns into His capable hands. —Kirsten Holmberg
Help me, Lord, to stop trying to hold everything in my hands, but instead to trust my needs and concerns into Your perfect care.
We can trust God to handle the things that overwhelm us.
INSIGHT: The truth of God’s intimate care for us is grounded in God’s self-revelation, the Bible. In the Discovery Series booklet How Can I Know God through His Book? David Egner writes, “Although the Bible was written by men like Moses and Luke and Paul, it is the self-revelation of God. He is the Author behind the authors. And what He says reflects who He is. To know God we have to read His book; . . . to see Him on every page, above every event, in every place and circumstance, and overseeing the choice of every person who makes his way into the sacred pages of biblical history.”
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Always and Never Alone
There used to be so much open chastisement from some really questionable sources about "lone-wolf" Christians.
My dad used to say that was me--the lone wolf.
When I was a kid, he told me I was the lone wolf in our family. He compared my siblings to other animals. Powerful eagle, soaring above. Noble horse, pressing through. Indomitable bear, overcoming. But he told me I was the lone wolf. Whatever that means. But I felt sure it was true.
And I carried it into adulthood. That designation. Not as though it wasn't rightful, I thought. Though I never talked about it, at length. Still haven't, actually, because this isn't talking. And it's not at length--still somewhat in passing. And this is writing in comparative isolation--a place where few tread. Although I keep praying about creating an entirely, entirely anonymous blog somewhere else, again. As to benefit from the ability to publicly process the things going on--an acknowledged possibility: the benefits gained per writing "publicly" still present, but undeterred ability to discuss all the matters pressing by potential for being scrutinized by anyone known utterly deflected...so able to write even more freely, gain more benefit. So, perhaps. May do. But not right now. This place, particular, would more rather be kept toward matters which specifically glorify the works of God, in some fashion and provide testament to His ongoing faithfulness. Even when in the midst of darkness, then still to speak of light.
My dad used to say that was me--the lone wolf.
When I was a kid, he told me I was the lone wolf in our family. He compared my siblings to other animals. Powerful eagle, soaring above. Noble horse, pressing through. Indomitable bear, overcoming. But he told me I was the lone wolf. Whatever that means. But I felt sure it was true.
And I carried it into adulthood. That designation. Not as though it wasn't rightful, I thought. Though I never talked about it, at length. Still haven't, actually, because this isn't talking. And it's not at length--still somewhat in passing. And this is writing in comparative isolation--a place where few tread. Although I keep praying about creating an entirely, entirely anonymous blog somewhere else, again. As to benefit from the ability to publicly process the things going on--an acknowledged possibility: the benefits gained per writing "publicly" still present, but undeterred ability to discuss all the matters pressing by potential for being scrutinized by anyone known utterly deflected...so able to write even more freely, gain more benefit. So, perhaps. May do. But not right now. This place, particular, would more rather be kept toward matters which specifically glorify the works of God, in some fashion and provide testament to His ongoing faithfulness. Even when in the midst of darkness, then still to speak of light.
The lone wolf-thing, though. Again and again, that's surfaced as an accusation since coming to the church. And even more so since submitting to Christ, receiving salvation.
It hurts, now. I don't feel like a lone wolf, anymore. But I don't quite feel like I fit in with the other sheep, either. Like a sickly sheep that doesn't quite keep up...a straggler, abandoned. An orphaned sheep, thus sickly from birth, as without nurse, protector, or instructor.
The other part of prior considerations, opposite feeling the lone wolf was seeming like the "black sheep" of my own family--having refused to give in to all the pressures and striking out into the world on my own to gain freedom from the emotional manipulations and the lingering pains of abandonment. Yet even becoming one of Christ's fold, now, I still don't feel as though I fit in well or have much a place with the other sheep.
Like I really am an ungainly, sickly creature that needs to be kept just far enough from the rest that disorder doesn't spread. Like He found me orphaned in the wild--somehow surviving yet unsocialized, unwell, and become unruly per bad habits developed in isolation and under dire stress. That would make for greater requirement of the shepherd's attentions, as being so unwell, unlearned, unprotected, unsocialized. All that much less acceptable to the flock because of the inability to maintain normal step alongside. Needing much rehabilitation.
And so many coyotes and wolves have nipped my heels I don't at all respond well to the best intentions of sheepdogs, or even other sheep, now.
The shepherd I trust--given years of patient, attentive, intensive, private care--but he's having to train me in being able to interact at all, otherwise. As not to injure myself or others, having developed some really nasty habits and tendencies in relative isolation. Which is not even to mention otherwise endangerment of myself, per the all of tendency to be oblivious to surroundings (no small miracle I survived prior to the shepherd's adoption).
I'm like an utterly oblivious, foolish sheep forever mindlessly nibbling nightshade and walking heedless off cliffs and running happily into flood waters and becoming mired in alligator bogs and cornered by ravening coyotes and ensnared in brambles which conceal copperheads. Constantly sick and injured and endangered and in peril...regardless of attempts to follow along with the rest, still it happens again and again. While it seems as though others tend to periodic amass burrs in their wool or rocks in their hooves, I become partially distracted for a split second only to discover my life is imperiled, yet again.
Perspective is so weird, though. Probably everyone feels this way, realistically.
The other part of prior considerations, opposite feeling the lone wolf was seeming like the "black sheep" of my own family--having refused to give in to all the pressures and striking out into the world on my own to gain freedom from the emotional manipulations and the lingering pains of abandonment. Yet even becoming one of Christ's fold, now, I still don't feel as though I fit in well or have much a place with the other sheep.
Like I really am an ungainly, sickly creature that needs to be kept just far enough from the rest that disorder doesn't spread. Like He found me orphaned in the wild--somehow surviving yet unsocialized, unwell, and become unruly per bad habits developed in isolation and under dire stress. That would make for greater requirement of the shepherd's attentions, as being so unwell, unlearned, unprotected, unsocialized. All that much less acceptable to the flock because of the inability to maintain normal step alongside. Needing much rehabilitation.
And so many coyotes and wolves have nipped my heels I don't at all respond well to the best intentions of sheepdogs, or even other sheep, now.
The shepherd I trust--given years of patient, attentive, intensive, private care--but he's having to train me in being able to interact at all, otherwise. As not to injure myself or others, having developed some really nasty habits and tendencies in relative isolation. Which is not even to mention otherwise endangerment of myself, per the all of tendency to be oblivious to surroundings (no small miracle I survived prior to the shepherd's adoption).
I'm like an utterly oblivious, foolish sheep forever mindlessly nibbling nightshade and walking heedless off cliffs and running happily into flood waters and becoming mired in alligator bogs and cornered by ravening coyotes and ensnared in brambles which conceal copperheads. Constantly sick and injured and endangered and in peril...regardless of attempts to follow along with the rest, still it happens again and again. While it seems as though others tend to periodic amass burrs in their wool or rocks in their hooves, I become partially distracted for a split second only to discover my life is imperiled, yet again.
Perspective is so weird, though. Probably everyone feels this way, realistically.
But there's such a sense of being unable to be alongside. And I despair of it, regularly. But unless the Lord makes a way, any attempt to walk alongside someone...anyone else...continually and in a way which constitutes intimate fellowship, as not being "alone" anymore...is continually destructive. Doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying. I haven't ever stopped trying. All my life.
Having efforts blow up in my face, again and again, certainly doesn't help. Regardless, the Lord doesn't call us to walk alone. So, I won't stop pursuing intimate fellowship.
Though the further along I go with hope and with effort--especially as each successive hope for intimate fellowship is more hopeful and thus more grievously dashed--the more painful and difficult it is to try.
I will trust the Lord, though. He'll continue to lead. And if that only ever means brief periods of consistent close fellowship before being shut out and cut off and rejected...again and again. And again. Then I'll accept the grief of the loss, each time, and continue to entrust my heart to Him, let Him help me bear the pain, and keep trying.
Same as ever. Only now, at least, with Christ as my shepherd...being alone isn't being alone.
When I'm too wounded to walk, He carries me through. So even through pain, I'll still rejoice to be nearer Him, evermore.
Having efforts blow up in my face, again and again, certainly doesn't help. Regardless, the Lord doesn't call us to walk alone. So, I won't stop pursuing intimate fellowship.
Though the further along I go with hope and with effort--especially as each successive hope for intimate fellowship is more hopeful and thus more grievously dashed--the more painful and difficult it is to try.
I will trust the Lord, though. He'll continue to lead. And if that only ever means brief periods of consistent close fellowship before being shut out and cut off and rejected...again and again. And again. Then I'll accept the grief of the loss, each time, and continue to entrust my heart to Him, let Him help me bear the pain, and keep trying.
Same as ever. Only now, at least, with Christ as my shepherd...being alone isn't being alone.
When I'm too wounded to walk, He carries me through. So even through pain, I'll still rejoice to be nearer Him, evermore.
Friday, March 17, 2017
Where the Spirit of the Lord is
For nearly three weeks, there's been nearly constant onslaught of doubts, fears, anxieties, condemnation on every front, and all the like. From the moment I wake up till the time I sleep. In the midst of being overwhelmed by griefs, one after another. Not loss on every front, but feeling so much like it.
A step further, last night, though. Being confronted by...I don't even have words. Even trying seems like it would do injustice to the gravity of the situation.
Suffice to say, being blatantly condemned with all the condemnations private of the past few weeks in the midst of wholly simultaneous exacerbation of grief...just...is so much. There's no response. Nothing which wouldn't constitute self-justification on some front. Nothing which wouldn't undermine the legitimacy of grief. Even contemplating is nearly as much, despaired of except that these things have to be confronted in some capacity, openly, so as not to allow darkness to permit some further festering of quite what is the matter.
In the midst of taking all to the Lord, today, last night, this morning...of desperation and absolute lack...He was so gracious as to very gradually, pointedly remind me of the cross. And remind me of my position.
All condemnation of human actions, if ever apart from Christ, is right and just. Apart from Him, from His active intervention--my every action is suffused with ulterior motives, slyness, self-serving intent, self-preservation, manipulations, and every manner of wickedness. Merely for being diametrically opposed to God, for ever having even marginally deviated from His will. He is just that good, is all, such that even a slight parting is an infinite statement of defiance against goodness.
So, the condemnation of my past...and of anything which isn't done in subjection to Him? Is just. And right. And true. I am wicked and a wretch and evil, except for Christ living in and working out sanctification in me and through me. Even despite my flesh, for there is sin which is still at work, though I now despise it rather than sickly and gratuitously indulging and cavorting in it--only ever lamenting the ill after-effects, before. Now despising and lamenting of the sin and the temptation to sin.
Yet whatsoever any sin still works in or through my members is still every bit as wretched as any sin which ever did, is the thing.
Meaning there is no remote possibility of self-justification. There is no justification of self. Not in self. Not of self. Only of and in Christ. And I am not able to know the depths of my own heart, still, even as to know what degree of turning has come in alongside many things.
But the moment that was realized, earlier today, the reason the condemnation has been holding so much fearful sway became very clear: There has yet been a deep-seated inclination toward self-justification, within.
Whereas I feared and tend toward fear of condemnation, given the unrecognized, unconscious belief which lingered. As though still, somehow, my actions are or were or could be somehow justifiable in themselves. Apart from Christ. Then, if so, they would be under condemnation of God's wrath, which ought to be feared.
But no. What and who I was died in Christ's death. And who I am lives in His life. Justified in and of and by Him, alone. Not of self. So there's no fear in condemnation. Because there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ.
He bore my shame. He took my place. He satisfied the penalty, the wrath reserved for me, for my sin.
And how easily, how quickly, how obtusely I wander from this truth by ever finding any purported solace in anything apart from Christ--as has much been the case, unfortunately increasingly, for the past few months. And the more I depend upon anything apart from or "in addition to" Christ, the more open to attack and delusion and confusion and despair I become. My life is in Him, only.
Earlier, when wholly accepting I deserve condemnation, wholly embracing how utterly wretched are my acts when of my will, of my intent, of my mind, strength, flesh, and heart...the Lord held me still, in the middle of the onslaught. And fear attempted to overwhelm, while condemnation attempted to utterly consume me...
...and though it surrounded me entirely and suffused my every breath for many moments, the deeper peace of Christ wasn't touched, wasn't moved. And it was in Him I rested. While wholly accepting I deserve condemnation. Accepting it wholeheartedly. But...increasingly made aware that it was in context of being accepted and made acceptable in Christ, through His sacrifice for me. I didn't expect to not be overwhelmed. I didn't expect to not be completely devastated. Condemnation used to utterly destroy me, when it came. A wretched, broken, devastated, hopeless mess with no means of even knowing how to breathe.
But the Lord kept me still. And was my peace. Knowledge of who He is held me at peace in the midst of the torrent, the torment, the attempt to destroy.
So the tactic shifted at that point. Because, in acknowledging I totally deserve condemnation, I'd acknowledged that sin was and is worthy of abject and total and unwavering condemnation. I'd fully embraced the truth, in context of accepting the fact I am utterly unworthy and absolutely insufficient of justification of my actions, of my being, of my sin. Per wholly embracing and realizing that I cannot justify myself nor my actions, my thoughts nor my ways--none are justifiable, in themselves. Period. Otherwise, Christ would not need have come.
So pleading to God for mercy, alone, and honestly coming to Him with the truth of my insufficiency and unworthiness, all over again--seeing sin so truly horrid, so wretched, so damaging--there was then a moment where temptation began shifting, trying to then draw me into thinking, "well, after all, maybe you're really not that bad...maybe those things you did and the ways you acted and the things which still happen aren't all that horrible--I mean, you did the best you could, right?...given what you knew? And you do the best you can, now, right? What more could God ask of you?"
Which is the point at which the Lord brought me to the cross, again. Because the cross of Jesus Christ puts lie to any attempt to justify sin, ever. For God to take on flesh. For Him to so humble Himself as to come as human, incarnate--the sovereign of the universe, full of all power and grace and love, becoming man, the creature...so to put sin to death, in the flesh? That He would endure unto death and bear the wrath due? To make a way for us to be delivered? To become the way for our sin to be atoned?
For any sin, He bore the wrath due--for lying or suspicion or lust or greed or impatience or pride or being snide with someone. For any sin--that God in the flesh would suffer and endure wrath so to atone for it, then each and every one is and must be worthy eternal punishment, His wrath due.
So--to answer the temptation--yes, I was every bit that bad. Every small lie. Every shift of the heart. Every disdain harbored even slightly. Every bit of envy. Every moment of jealousy. Every single instance of ever thus or otherwise turning my heart against God and also others. Each was due eternal wrath, justly. So, each was and is "that bad."
And every single which remains and will ever be until the end...is that bad. So, I laughed--absolute absurdity, to attempt to condemn, find my condemnation spent on Christ, then attempt to get me to justify myself? Utterly ridiculous.
Condemnation thus didn't yield despair, once the seed of self-justification was exposed and surrendered. Attempt to pare off sin's horror and travesty was attempted, erronenously. Attempt to justify sin was attempted. But the cross of our God and Master, Christ Jesus--Immanuel--puts that to an absolute lie.
If there had been another way... Consider that He is not one to use more than the necessary force--He restrains so, so much, actually.
So, if there had been a means of atoning for our any sin which would have permitted for less than God, Himself, becoming flesh and enduring our deserved wrath so to atone for it--justice served that mercy might be extended without compromising His perfection...if there had been another way, He would have done. But as it stands, every single sin took His death on the cross to make a way for us to be absolved.
So, for any and every sin to require such an incomprehensible sacrifice?
Sin is that bad. Every time. Every...single...one.
Knowing that and turning to Christ for forgiveness and for deliverance breaks the hold of condemnation, though. Accepting it's true--we do deserve condemnation. Each and every one. And there is condemnation for sin. I am that bad. We all are. Except Christ. Or, rather...But God:
4 But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us,
5 Even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ, (by grace ye are saved;)
6 And hath raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus:
7 That in the ages to come he might shew the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness toward us through Christ Jesus.
8 For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:
9 Not of works, lest any man should boast.
10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.
Ephesians 2:4-10
And so, I am free. In Christ, alone. Free in Him.
Though, yeah--I'm a despicable sinner. Utterly wretched. But for the grace of God, I would stand condemned. But in Christ's death, my sin has been tried, condemned, and punished. Because I deserve condemnation. Absolutely. Totally. On every front. No argument there.
But God...
A step further, last night, though. Being confronted by...I don't even have words. Even trying seems like it would do injustice to the gravity of the situation.
Suffice to say, being blatantly condemned with all the condemnations private of the past few weeks in the midst of wholly simultaneous exacerbation of grief...just...is so much. There's no response. Nothing which wouldn't constitute self-justification on some front. Nothing which wouldn't undermine the legitimacy of grief. Even contemplating is nearly as much, despaired of except that these things have to be confronted in some capacity, openly, so as not to allow darkness to permit some further festering of quite what is the matter.
In the midst of taking all to the Lord, today, last night, this morning...of desperation and absolute lack...He was so gracious as to very gradually, pointedly remind me of the cross. And remind me of my position.
All condemnation of human actions, if ever apart from Christ, is right and just. Apart from Him, from His active intervention--my every action is suffused with ulterior motives, slyness, self-serving intent, self-preservation, manipulations, and every manner of wickedness. Merely for being diametrically opposed to God, for ever having even marginally deviated from His will. He is just that good, is all, such that even a slight parting is an infinite statement of defiance against goodness.
So, the condemnation of my past...and of anything which isn't done in subjection to Him? Is just. And right. And true. I am wicked and a wretch and evil, except for Christ living in and working out sanctification in me and through me. Even despite my flesh, for there is sin which is still at work, though I now despise it rather than sickly and gratuitously indulging and cavorting in it--only ever lamenting the ill after-effects, before. Now despising and lamenting of the sin and the temptation to sin.
Yet whatsoever any sin still works in or through my members is still every bit as wretched as any sin which ever did, is the thing.
Meaning there is no remote possibility of self-justification. There is no justification of self. Not in self. Not of self. Only of and in Christ. And I am not able to know the depths of my own heart, still, even as to know what degree of turning has come in alongside many things.
But the moment that was realized, earlier today, the reason the condemnation has been holding so much fearful sway became very clear: There has yet been a deep-seated inclination toward self-justification, within.
Whereas I feared and tend toward fear of condemnation, given the unrecognized, unconscious belief which lingered. As though still, somehow, my actions are or were or could be somehow justifiable in themselves. Apart from Christ. Then, if so, they would be under condemnation of God's wrath, which ought to be feared.
But no. What and who I was died in Christ's death. And who I am lives in His life. Justified in and of and by Him, alone. Not of self. So there's no fear in condemnation. Because there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ.
He bore my shame. He took my place. He satisfied the penalty, the wrath reserved for me, for my sin.
And how easily, how quickly, how obtusely I wander from this truth by ever finding any purported solace in anything apart from Christ--as has much been the case, unfortunately increasingly, for the past few months. And the more I depend upon anything apart from or "in addition to" Christ, the more open to attack and delusion and confusion and despair I become. My life is in Him, only.
Earlier, when wholly accepting I deserve condemnation, wholly embracing how utterly wretched are my acts when of my will, of my intent, of my mind, strength, flesh, and heart...the Lord held me still, in the middle of the onslaught. And fear attempted to overwhelm, while condemnation attempted to utterly consume me...
...and though it surrounded me entirely and suffused my every breath for many moments, the deeper peace of Christ wasn't touched, wasn't moved. And it was in Him I rested. While wholly accepting I deserve condemnation. Accepting it wholeheartedly. But...increasingly made aware that it was in context of being accepted and made acceptable in Christ, through His sacrifice for me. I didn't expect to not be overwhelmed. I didn't expect to not be completely devastated. Condemnation used to utterly destroy me, when it came. A wretched, broken, devastated, hopeless mess with no means of even knowing how to breathe.
But the Lord kept me still. And was my peace. Knowledge of who He is held me at peace in the midst of the torrent, the torment, the attempt to destroy.
So the tactic shifted at that point. Because, in acknowledging I totally deserve condemnation, I'd acknowledged that sin was and is worthy of abject and total and unwavering condemnation. I'd fully embraced the truth, in context of accepting the fact I am utterly unworthy and absolutely insufficient of justification of my actions, of my being, of my sin. Per wholly embracing and realizing that I cannot justify myself nor my actions, my thoughts nor my ways--none are justifiable, in themselves. Period. Otherwise, Christ would not need have come.
So pleading to God for mercy, alone, and honestly coming to Him with the truth of my insufficiency and unworthiness, all over again--seeing sin so truly horrid, so wretched, so damaging--there was then a moment where temptation began shifting, trying to then draw me into thinking, "well, after all, maybe you're really not that bad...maybe those things you did and the ways you acted and the things which still happen aren't all that horrible--I mean, you did the best you could, right?...given what you knew? And you do the best you can, now, right? What more could God ask of you?"
Which is the point at which the Lord brought me to the cross, again. Because the cross of Jesus Christ puts lie to any attempt to justify sin, ever. For God to take on flesh. For Him to so humble Himself as to come as human, incarnate--the sovereign of the universe, full of all power and grace and love, becoming man, the creature...so to put sin to death, in the flesh? That He would endure unto death and bear the wrath due? To make a way for us to be delivered? To become the way for our sin to be atoned?
For any sin, He bore the wrath due--for lying or suspicion or lust or greed or impatience or pride or being snide with someone. For any sin--that God in the flesh would suffer and endure wrath so to atone for it, then each and every one is and must be worthy eternal punishment, His wrath due.
So--to answer the temptation--yes, I was every bit that bad. Every small lie. Every shift of the heart. Every disdain harbored even slightly. Every bit of envy. Every moment of jealousy. Every single instance of ever thus or otherwise turning my heart against God and also others. Each was due eternal wrath, justly. So, each was and is "that bad."
And every single which remains and will ever be until the end...is that bad. So, I laughed--absolute absurdity, to attempt to condemn, find my condemnation spent on Christ, then attempt to get me to justify myself? Utterly ridiculous.
Condemnation thus didn't yield despair, once the seed of self-justification was exposed and surrendered. Attempt to pare off sin's horror and travesty was attempted, erronenously. Attempt to justify sin was attempted. But the cross of our God and Master, Christ Jesus--Immanuel--puts that to an absolute lie.
If there had been another way... Consider that He is not one to use more than the necessary force--He restrains so, so much, actually.
So, if there had been a means of atoning for our any sin which would have permitted for less than God, Himself, becoming flesh and enduring our deserved wrath so to atone for it--justice served that mercy might be extended without compromising His perfection...if there had been another way, He would have done. But as it stands, every single sin took His death on the cross to make a way for us to be absolved.
So, for any and every sin to require such an incomprehensible sacrifice?
Sin is that bad. Every time. Every...single...one.
Knowing that and turning to Christ for forgiveness and for deliverance breaks the hold of condemnation, though. Accepting it's true--we do deserve condemnation. Each and every one. And there is condemnation for sin. I am that bad. We all are. Except Christ. Or, rather...But God:
4 But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us,
5 Even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ, (by grace ye are saved;)
6 And hath raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus:
7 That in the ages to come he might shew the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness toward us through Christ Jesus.
8 For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:
9 Not of works, lest any man should boast.
10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.
Ephesians 2:4-10
And so, I am free. In Christ, alone. Free in Him.
Though, yeah--I'm a despicable sinner. Utterly wretched. But for the grace of God, I would stand condemned. But in Christ's death, my sin has been tried, condemned, and punished. Because I deserve condemnation. Absolutely. Totally. On every front. No argument there.
But God...
Thursday, March 16, 2017
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
Pitfalls and Thoughts Around Hope and Depression
The Lord has been so kind, today. Like with this song, just now. And with a couple minutes' worth of sunlight, breaking through. And the sun, even. And the blue sky. And just reminding me of who He is. In the middle of coming to terms with my own idiocy. Again. Just accepting my abject insufficiencies and incapabilities. And isolation. And seclusion.
But of His love, reminded. And of His faithfulness, reminded. And of His intentions toward me. And of the fact that He's taken me up, as His own. And there's still been the reminder, again and again...He's the one in control.
I have to just wait. Surrendered. I have no defenses, apart from Him. And however He gives grace and aid to act, in a moment.
And there's been the gentle reminder, too, that there are so many in the world who are utterly alone. Not even turned toward Him, even. So many. Without Jesus, I couldn't function. I didn't want to. And, quite frankly I don't want to now, either...but He doesn't leave me to my own inclinations. He prompts and prods and relentlessly comforts and assertively loves until there's nothing but to move, if an inch at a time. I am so glad He isn't ashamed of my need of Him, that He doesn't turn away or leave me at those times of abject unwillingness to even open my eyes to face another day.
He gently incites to remembrance of varied small blessings, of warmth and light and melody and even the joy of fleeting fellowship.
One of my biggest pitfalls is the desire to belong. To have a home. To have a place where I fit. But especially to have someone to walk beside. Consistently. In fellowship with God. And not unto distraction from Him.
For a brief moment, I really hoped a girl I'd met in the backwoods of Tennessee last winter might be someone He'd ordain to have me walk with in pursuit of Him. Someone to prod and to prompt to deeper walk with the Lord, seeking Him as fellow disciples. The "iron sharpening iron." And as someone to walk beside. But her walk is so much different. She invited me to come visit. But He cut that off.
Everyone else seems very nicely grouped, already. Insularly so, past a point. Which...is entirely understandable and rational. The way things ought to be. Still just means there's no place for me, is all. None but with the Lord, Himself. Or there are those who are similarly alone, and yet...it's not just a matter of closing my eyes and pointing, unfortunately.
So, I'm glad He doesn't leave me alone, days like today. But continually reminds me, with small and large interventions. And refusing to leave me alone, in those moments when I want to just stop and give up, entirely. Giving in. He comforts me.
Thing is, though, if there were others continually...I get so distracted, fellowship with Him isn't as obvious, usually. Not usually as pronounced. Usually just slightly marginalized. Which...is sad, to say the least. He doesn't begrudge me the indulgence in enjoying fellowship, though. He doesn't drift away. I do.
And what's so odd of it all is that...when I first started walking with Him--whatever it required, to remain in fellowship with Him...was worth it. No movies, no tv, restricted fellowship, further limitations of speech with mindfulness to abstain from grieving Him so very pronounced. It was a very sad day when He gently made me aware of the difference between my pursuit of Him and the...whatever it is...of my family--making it starkly, grievously apparent that past a point, to continue pursuing Him would mean there would no longer be room for compromising my walk with Him for the sake of maintaining appearances. To put it one way, at least.
False peace. A compromise against reverence for the Lord, at core. And false peace has incrementally been addressed and put to the lie it is, again and again. Not without grief.
It's a thing. And I don't even know the extent of pretense and compromise that's still an unrecognized part of my daily perspective, even now. But the closer to Him, the more apparent these things become. And He's infinite, so there's no reason to stop pursuing Him.
Doggedly. Though there are definitely plateaus. And distractions. And falterings. And the periodic falling away into error. The whole zeal without knowledge, thing? Yeah, well...zealous to seek in all corners, especially, initially. Still reeling over some of what was imbibed. But He's been faithful to deliver me.
I used to climb and hide on the top of the china cabinet at home, just to get to the highest place. And make it back down before being found out. So it's not as though that same curiosity and drive isn't still alive in a very real way. Just in Christ's direction.
So, really...it doesn't matter what's thought of, done to, or intended toward me. All that matters is pursuing Him, at any cost. At all costs. Does not mean there's no pain. Doesn't mean grief isn't pretty (increasingly?) regular. But I trust Him. And I submit to Him. And will have Him, because He is willing.
It's actually really merciful that He would allow me to see, in particular, so much of my own sinfulness in greater detail again. All the more to be humbled. Pick a sin, I've at least been tempted (probably). Some temptations haunt me, literally. Demonic hecklers. But resting in Christ, they can't touch me. And their voices grow ever fainter and fainter.
The pain, though. It wields its own dire bludgeon. And would utterly destroy my will to live, except my every desire for life now rests in knowing Christ. Which isn't to say I don't despair of this world and want to just go home, sometimes. But His will. And love of others.
He didn't mock me. Or chide me. But even seeing the sin I more clearly see now, it was nothing to seeing how utterly filthy and wretched, then. Suffused. Every particle tainted by the presence and working of sin. I had never known despair, compared. I couldn't even think.
I don't even know what I want, realistically, until He makes it plain. Painfully done, which is an unfortunate consequence of putting lie under pressure of scrutiny until surfacing truth. So the natural, human desires for marriage and children--for family and community? They're not bad things. Just painful to acknowledge, having long denied truth. And no less to be surrendered wholly to God, all the while. Without expectation.
I don't even know what I want, realistically, until He makes it plain. Painfully done, which is an unfortunate consequence of putting lie under pressure of scrutiny until surfacing truth. So the natural, human desires for marriage and children--for family and community? They're not bad things. Just painful to acknowledge, having long denied truth. And no less to be surrendered wholly to God, all the while. Without expectation.
Because He's my keeper. And I stray continually, except that He keeps a close watch on me. He's my shepherd. And I wander into strange and dark places regularly, except He draws me out and binds me near again and again. He's done it all my life, in various ways. Even though I went into some really dark terrain for quite a while. Resenting and despising Him. Even to spite myself. And in defiance of everyone who claimed to love me, given lack of truthful involvement, attempted truthful confrontation.
It's easy to say you love someone, is all. But when there's unwillingness to (albeit prayerfully--seems necessity) confront observed harmful tendencies and behaviors, but only indulgence and avoidance or mockery and distance...or the like...that's not love. It's self-indulgent affectionate regard, at best. And outright self-indulgence, otherwise. Or just self-consumption so deep as to prevent love being expressed. Or something along the like of these lines.
If Christ is our living model for human love, though? He used a lot of parables. He spoke in ways which were mysterious, to many. But He began His ministry with forthright and blatant call to repentance unto God. And spoke very frankly with those who were particularly vocal toward Him, testing and trying and denouncing Him. Claiming to speak for God, yet they were actively attacking Him in the flesh. Deriding, mocking, chastising, and scoffing at Him. And He was very plain, in those instances. But to all, He called for repentance. And backed it up with a willingness to endure in the fight against sin, unto death on the cross. As to be obedient, perfected in obedience through suffering. Without wavering in His commitment to do the will of the Father, rather than His own will.
He alone had no need to repent, because He'd never turned away from obedience. Yet along that particular, He alone practiced wholly what He preached. The rest of us fail. Miserably, at times (speaking from personal experience). But He is merciful to those who confess their sins. And merciful to continually reveal to further depths of confession.
Thing is...love isn't timid. Surrendered to God, sometimes it draws some very plain lines. And other times just seems best to encourage, direct, and bolster. And what all did Paul write about it, as inspired?:
It's easy to say you love someone, is all. But when there's unwillingness to (albeit prayerfully--seems necessity) confront observed harmful tendencies and behaviors, but only indulgence and avoidance or mockery and distance...or the like...that's not love. It's self-indulgent affectionate regard, at best. And outright self-indulgence, otherwise. Or just self-consumption so deep as to prevent love being expressed. Or something along the like of these lines.
If Christ is our living model for human love, though? He used a lot of parables. He spoke in ways which were mysterious, to many. But He began His ministry with forthright and blatant call to repentance unto God. And spoke very frankly with those who were particularly vocal toward Him, testing and trying and denouncing Him. Claiming to speak for God, yet they were actively attacking Him in the flesh. Deriding, mocking, chastising, and scoffing at Him. And He was very plain, in those instances. But to all, He called for repentance. And backed it up with a willingness to endure in the fight against sin, unto death on the cross. As to be obedient, perfected in obedience through suffering. Without wavering in His commitment to do the will of the Father, rather than His own will.
He alone had no need to repent, because He'd never turned away from obedience. Yet along that particular, He alone practiced wholly what He preached. The rest of us fail. Miserably, at times (speaking from personal experience). But He is merciful to those who confess their sins. And merciful to continually reveal to further depths of confession.
Thing is...love isn't timid. Surrendered to God, sometimes it draws some very plain lines. And other times just seems best to encourage, direct, and bolster. And what all did Paul write about it, as inspired?:
4 Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up;
5 does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil;
6 does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth;
7 bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
8 Love never fails.
Which is a lot to aspire to, by grace. So, love is not showy or proud, not rude or self-serving, isn't suspicious, is long-suffering and kind, doesn't envy, grieves of sin but rejoices in truth, bears, believes, and hopes all things good, enduring whatever is encountered. And love never fails.
It would probably help me a lot to just meditate on that for a brief eternity. And of Philippians 4:8, as well. Love doesn't dwell on darkness.
Which is a lot to aspire to, by grace. So, love is not showy or proud, not rude or self-serving, isn't suspicious, is long-suffering and kind, doesn't envy, grieves of sin but rejoices in truth, bears, believes, and hopes all things good, enduring whatever is encountered. And love never fails.
It would probably help me a lot to just meditate on that for a brief eternity. And of Philippians 4:8, as well. Love doesn't dwell on darkness.
8 Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy--meditate on these things.
It's too easy to become mired in the chaos of what goes on in this world. Especially those things which are particularly grievous, unjust, and painful. I constantly fail on that point, except that the Lord doesn't leave me there. Gladly.
Not to say there's no grieving. Even alongside. Jesus grieved, too. But He didn't set up camp there, to live.
Unlike me.
All the more to be grateful He doesn't leave me to my own devices. I have no idea what tomorrow will be like, even. But He'll be there. And He'll help. Especially when there's nothing I can do to even dredge up the willingness to sit up, let alone prepare for the day. He doesn't leave me alone. He coaches me, relentlessly. And reminds me. And prods, one step, one moment, one thought to the next. And gives small gifts, all day. Even if I start out resistant to even being loved.
I can't say I would trust anyone else to deal so gently and insistently with me. I don't even deal that gently with myself. So, on that front, too, there's been some serious resistance to the idea of walking beside others. Because sin-sickened humans tend to hurt one another. A lot. We just do. And I don't quite understand how that's supposed to work to good. How He would do so. Even seeing so much He's done through my recent fellowship with others, these past multiple months.
Not as though I'm anywhere near...not even remotely near...being able to interact without having a breakdown and neurotic fit, still. Apparently. But He's been bringing a lot into the light of awareness to be surrendered to Him, by the course. Seeing how broken and inept I am at being able to interact in a healthy, sustained manner without falling prey to all sorts of doubts and inconsistencies and fears and false hopes and undue dependency (even as idolatry)...really makes me want to just not interact with anyone again, ever, at close range or with any degree of emotional intimacy. But it's not mine to say or do anything with, except to be grateful to see so much that's wrong in light of being able to recognize the errors, at all. Rather than just being completely and totally waylaid by them all, like as used to be the case.
Trusting Him, then. With whatever comes. Not pressing for anything or withholding from anything, but surrendering.
I don't like it. I've proposed numerous other plans, including (proposed numerous times, as though He might bend now) changing churches, changing schedule, and just being entirely aloof (which was the intent for all and sundry, last week, and utterly failed). So, yeah. Maybe He'll let me run away. It would be nice. Personally preferable to facing particular fears. Or if He'd even just let me not speak, at all. At all. That would be a nice change, again. It was a long-practiced habit, after all. Very familiar. Comfortable. Much better than constantly saying much of nothing. Or saying strange things, and wondering why.
Maybe He'll at least give grace to stand up against things that seem awry. Though not condemning, then at least no longer conceding. No longer complicit in nonsense.
I'd rather just be away with the Lord. But that's not exactly what He prompts. Even if He basically has to drag me into interaction like an errant toddler, defiant all the while.
I miss being around people, though, is the rub. In general. I love people. In general. Despite being terrified and certain of impending harm and of my own reckless idiocy.
He'll line things out. And He'll line me out, over time, if nothing else.
That's what it all comes back to, though. There's nothing else. Jesus will do the things.
And that's more than enough. He knows precisely what's necessary. And what's best.
Even if it happens to be excruciating, in the process.
Which, quite frankly, seems to be pretty much all the time.
If so, though, then by necessity. He is a good God and knows what He's doing.
Not to say there's no grieving. Even alongside. Jesus grieved, too. But He didn't set up camp there, to live.
Unlike me.
All the more to be grateful He doesn't leave me to my own devices. I have no idea what tomorrow will be like, even. But He'll be there. And He'll help. Especially when there's nothing I can do to even dredge up the willingness to sit up, let alone prepare for the day. He doesn't leave me alone. He coaches me, relentlessly. And reminds me. And prods, one step, one moment, one thought to the next. And gives small gifts, all day. Even if I start out resistant to even being loved.
I can't say I would trust anyone else to deal so gently and insistently with me. I don't even deal that gently with myself. So, on that front, too, there's been some serious resistance to the idea of walking beside others. Because sin-sickened humans tend to hurt one another. A lot. We just do. And I don't quite understand how that's supposed to work to good. How He would do so. Even seeing so much He's done through my recent fellowship with others, these past multiple months.
Not as though I'm anywhere near...not even remotely near...being able to interact without having a breakdown and neurotic fit, still. Apparently. But He's been bringing a lot into the light of awareness to be surrendered to Him, by the course. Seeing how broken and inept I am at being able to interact in a healthy, sustained manner without falling prey to all sorts of doubts and inconsistencies and fears and false hopes and undue dependency (even as idolatry)...really makes me want to just not interact with anyone again, ever, at close range or with any degree of emotional intimacy. But it's not mine to say or do anything with, except to be grateful to see so much that's wrong in light of being able to recognize the errors, at all. Rather than just being completely and totally waylaid by them all, like as used to be the case.
Trusting Him, then. With whatever comes. Not pressing for anything or withholding from anything, but surrendering.
I don't like it. I've proposed numerous other plans, including (proposed numerous times, as though He might bend now) changing churches, changing schedule, and just being entirely aloof (which was the intent for all and sundry, last week, and utterly failed). So, yeah. Maybe He'll let me run away. It would be nice. Personally preferable to facing particular fears. Or if He'd even just let me not speak, at all. At all. That would be a nice change, again. It was a long-practiced habit, after all. Very familiar. Comfortable. Much better than constantly saying much of nothing. Or saying strange things, and wondering why.
Maybe He'll at least give grace to stand up against things that seem awry. Though not condemning, then at least no longer conceding. No longer complicit in nonsense.
I'd rather just be away with the Lord. But that's not exactly what He prompts. Even if He basically has to drag me into interaction like an errant toddler, defiant all the while.
I miss being around people, though, is the rub. In general. I love people. In general. Despite being terrified and certain of impending harm and of my own reckless idiocy.
He'll line things out. And He'll line me out, over time, if nothing else.
That's what it all comes back to, though. There's nothing else. Jesus will do the things.
And that's more than enough. He knows precisely what's necessary. And what's best.
Even if it happens to be excruciating, in the process.
Which, quite frankly, seems to be pretty much all the time.
If so, though, then by necessity. He is a good God and knows what He's doing.
Monday, March 13, 2017
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