Jesus is so faithful to me. Random call tonight from my friend in Tazewell, and much talk of how she's been seeking after Him lately and of His faithfulness to her and of how conversations between her and others seeking Him have encouraged her. Again and again and again references from His Word.
He is so kind to me. So good to me, when I'm most weak and weary and worn, even as to have fallen into self-pity again over loneliness. Instead of rebuking, He provides hours of fellowship referring continually to Himself. And even as listless and discombobulated as I am, to be incapable of well focusing, then still...to have again and again the return to Him come blatant and engaging? So kind, in the midst of seeing more of the wretchedness awaiting redemption.
He will deliver from this. It's not a matter of if, but of when and how. And as such, not a matter of concern at all, because He's already got all the details lined out perfectly.
I am so grateful. So grateful. He doesn't leave us to our own devices. He doesn't allow us tempted more than we can bear, except as to try our faith and reveal Himself more clearly. And whatsoever else He intends, of each to each. But always good.
To His glory, moreover.
I am so grateful.
And I'm reminded of interactions at first with the people who initially allowed me into fellowship with themselves from the previous church. Of how odd it seemed to be with them, in the Presence of the Lord, and yet so often talking about Him as though He wasn't present. I remember being very disturbed and uncomfortable about it. Asking Him about it, but not really knowing what to do and so continuing, regardless. With an eye to Him, the while.
Feeling somewhat guilty, still. For continuing apparently one-sided reverence for His presence. Much a point of grief, remembering.
I don't want to go back to the confusions of that day, nor go back to the ignorance of Him which made it so quick a thing to prefer the instruction of man rather than heeding God's own leading. But to the ardent devotion, yes. To the unstilted and unyielding pursuit, yes. Even as He's taught me so much along the while that pursuit of Him isn't limited to being solely as time spent reading His word, but also pondering, meditating upon it, prayer for revelation of it, and simple fellowship with Him, and of sharing of Him with others. But of always remaining somewhat keen to His presence and will, if only of waiting upon Him and resting in the ever-present peace which He so graciously affords.
(And again, at this point, rather than saying "I'm so grateful," which is the mask for "Lord, thank you," as a more "publicly acceptable" acknowledgement of Him:)
Lord, thank You. Father, thank You.
Ruach HaKodesh. Breath, Essence, Spirit of the Holy One...thank You. Jesus, my Lord and my God. Heavenly Father. God.
I'm still so utterly brain-melt over Trinitarian co-equality, unity in diversity. All the more to bow.
And the thing is, there are so many totally wonky philosophies abounding at this point. Reverencing one above another, to an effective exclusion of realizing unity. The whole idea is entirely intimidating. I know He is One, as Father, Son, and Spirit. But that still utterly defies my ability to process. Which...given it took something of six months past conversion to be stricken with realization that the Word of God, the Bible is truth and I utterly believe His Word--specifically in regard to realizing a seven day creation (I count the day of rest, thanks). Versus having long been accepting of evolutionary theories, and assuming they were still plausible until that very point in time.
Just stricken to realize I did believe He created in the number of days He has said. Period. And I didn't understand, still don't, but accept not having to...because He said it, He did it, He had it recorded, and it's truth. So, He tells me/us He's triune? Okay. Well enough.
It's been a long road just to being acclimated to the idea of a healthy Father, let alone to begin to realize His love and pleasure in me. As in a good way. He's still working on that. Jesus mediates, present evidence, as revealed by His Spirit through His Word witnessing of the truth therein, present.
I miss that ardency, though. I miss Him. He's still here. He hasn't gone anywhere. I have.
My heart aches over things recent and still in effect. I do want to have family. I do want to be loved, cherished, and howsoever else. I don't want to be ever on the fringes of even Christian society, ever yet for sake of remaining nearer Him, for sake of remaining apart from treading deeper waters of temptation readily trod by most, then I will. Though it kills me. And I cannot do it. I cannot wrest my heart free. But His will be done. Not mine. And if the choice ever is between compromising pursuit of Jesus for sake of earthly companions, versus relishing the love of my Lord and God, my Heavenly Father, and being ever keen to hear His sweet voice whispering in the moments apart, still, small, present peace and love, ever directing to His Word, to His will, to instruction, and all things of His goodness and righteousness...
...if the choice is between Him and others, then my lot is ever with Christ. And He knows it kills me, each time. With family, multiple times over, now. With friends, though I was no great loss from them--after making apparent my beliefs, disclosing to varied degrees of directness and with varied amounts of clarity the truth of sin, justice, redemption, and judgment...of truth...then to just disappear, ceasing prior attempts to maintain communication, ceasing to continue dialogues so many years already strained. No great loss to them. But I pray, still, that some read. And those who heard were impacted. At least one was, by grace. To ask where He is buried, having been unable to find out through research.
And...alright, fine. Random, shared-post of Jesus Christ being the only God, the only way to heaven, first in oh, six months? And I'm not going to deactivate it again at the moment. Because. I really want to know if friend has continued to wonder where Jesus is and whether she's still talking to our other mutual friend about Jesus, too.
Lord, things?
Anyway. Still all over the place right now.
This stuff He's been showing me about family things has been...absolutely mind-numbing and soul-crushing. Just in shock. How can be possible all interactions always are unwell, till now? That is like...a major Major-Thing.
I feel like I'm learning how to be human, somehow. And not just...passively going along. Not just surviving and making do with what's on. Not just contriving to find means to "happiness" and "fulfillment."
But learning how to rest in peace, love, joy, and contentment. How to be fulfilled in Christ, my God, by His Spirit. I don't even understand, really. But it is as just had come to mind--of being as I was created to be. Living more wholly according to my created purpose, having utterly defied it all my life until these past few years. And being very gradually led into what it means to be human, as created.
That is just... !!!
...words...
...fail...
...
...seriously.
I keep remembering all the ways of things before, and seeing often some superficial semblance of what right order is, and yet inherently wrong. As only superficially similar in external appearance, all the while with a heart utterly devoid of love for God--the utmost characteristic of created order for humanity. To receive of and return His love. Even as familial, as it goes through Christ. As a beloved, righteous, gracious, kind parent.
To a beloved, cherished, treasured, protected child.
Order, though. Hierarchy.
I really want Him to bring me closer again, to more fellowship with Him. Again and again, I've drifted. Each time, coming back has been different. Each time, a greater degree of trust in Him, a clearer picture of the fact of His keeping and drawing being the order by which "return" occurs. Rather, the process as clarification of who He is, testing of faith. Though as per temptations, falterings, failings, and confusions. And sufferings.
Which, of Hebrews 5:8...apparently was of a term specifically connotative of emotional, deeply felt experience. Not rather of physical sufferings, which is what's generally considered the case in society. We epitomize the physical and minimize emotions to a point of near exclusion. Fearing them. Seeking to control and dominate and manipulate them rather than submitting them honestly before God and others, seeking help, clarification, sanctification. Not to rule them nor be ruled by them but to submit them to God, as part of the process of being a living sacrifice.
He "desires truth in the innermost being." Not subterfuge and countermanding, attempting to oust or overthrow what seems undesirable and unconformed. But truth.
Again and again, He's let me see the state of my heart--coldness, indifference, laziness, prone to dissembling for sake of "self-preservation," and so many things...but instead of allowing me to then attempt to change or deny the things, He's been so merciful as to have that not be a thought to cross my mind (possibly utterly opposed to the way things used to be), instead but to despair of what He's shown...in His direction, as "Lord!, look at this!, see the bleakness!, Father!, Help!, I can't do anything, but I can't live with this!"
And gradually, unbeknownst me, He works. And then makes it apparent some later time when circumstances manifest which evidence the work, wholly unexpected and a surprise to experience. Unto gratitude, rejoicing in His power and faithfulness.
Like one instance of seeing a small dog, a small chubby dog usually neglected by family but who preferred my company...laying in the sun, next to me, so happy, so content, utterly at ease, replete. And in that instant, feeling nothing. Seeing her and knowing deeply that it was a very precious sight, and knowing she is utterly precious, but feeling nothing. Despairing of it, grieved deeply (to the extent then-possible). Pleading with the Lord for mercy, despairing of my state.
And now, even remembering...my heart is warmed. I miss her. She was so sweet. She followed me everywhere, and she was so much in discomfort but never did anything except smile her doggy smile and try feebly to jump with her delight to see me. And her name was Grace, wasn't it? Gracie. I really dislike being so unattuned to names.
My previous dog's name was Gracie. She wasn't with me very long. She needed a better home.
And my last cats were Gizmo and Grace.
Now, my car. As much as an inanimate object can have a name...is Grace. Gets me everywhere I need to be. The means by which I have ability to move.
Anyway. I had lost the ability to feel so many things, but love especially. And it's still...well, it's been all sorts of overwhelming at times, of the Lord. But otherwise? It's still very newish? Not as though there weren't moments of experiencing love, before. Nieces. Family members. Others. But...not in context of knowing truth, in general. And of seeking righteousness.
Seeking my Father's will.
Which...my dad really didn't like it so much when I talked to him about what it was to seek the Lord and His will. I had no idea what I was actually talking about, except to just describe what had been going on for the months prior to the conversation...referencing even bits of Scripture which finally made sense, for the first ever. He looked at me like I'd grown a third head, or something. Made some passing comment about how I must be like Elijah, or something. Which...oh, but there's been a wealth of wretched temptations surrounding that bit of odd commentary. But, no.
Walking with the Lord is just that. Walking as He walked. Abiding in Him.
And that first year...it was utmost and absolute necessity to cut out distractions, or otherwise to be overwhelmed by all the varied and many temptations that were still so very near to be known by the flesh. Utterly wretched. Suicide was still one of the loudest.
But cutting out anything that distracted from focus on the Lord, on Scripture, on His presence, on seeking Him...anything that dimmed awareness of truth, awareness of His presence particularly...had to go, even for fear of slipping.
But also for utter need of Him. Still.
I don't want to live a half-life only aware of His presence and the truth of who He is, Sundays or at odd intervals of random fellowship, betwixt times of actual worship and reverence. I want the Lord. I want Him a daily, continual friend. No matter what.
Know, still, that I can't manage to keep myself focused, but He can and He's willing. So, that's enough. Trusting Him ever more wholeheartedly to do so, throwing myself all the more on His mercies even for having all the more deeply come to feel.
Still a work in progress, but...He's good at what He does and He knows precisely what He's doing. The Master Physician. The Great Counselor. My Best Friend and Husband.
I am His, first and foremost. Same as all, but devoted consciously to His keeping. He will do with me as He sees fit. And I am glad of that.
Father, Your will be done.
That's all.
I have nothing apart from You.
I want nothing beside You.
Whom have I, else?
What You give is good.
You know my needs.
And You are their fulfillment.
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