The battle is impossible, except the Lord restrain and constrain and deliver and keep...and direct thoughts, speech, actions, and all else. Just, there seems no place quite like suffering and grief where He does the work He does, of provision and cleansing and clarifying, but where also the enemy attempts to run rampant and wreak complete, constant havoc.
Not a moment passes without temptation to turn toward hardening my heart (in a variety of ways, temptation to this effect) even unto succumbing to willful forgetfulness and denial of what's passed, so to lessen the pain. It would be "easier," in terms of lessening pain at present, to give into the pressure to believe I've been mistaken in assessing circumstances, prior, of express intent. Rather than to bear brunt of pain of being lied to, even if the one lying believes it's so, having succumbed to these very same temptations. Either way, then, an end. Just one without abandoning truth, despite the pain of not understanding and of having to bear the brunt of loss entirely alone. Versus giving into lies which would delude and thus offer a temporary solace of...delusion, yeah. It eases present pains. Delusion makes it easy to accept anything, because nothing is sacred and everything can be rationalized as potentially correct. But unto further hardness of hard and turning from God, moreover.
To remark thus without bitterness is not of me, but trusting the Lord with these things. And praying all the while for the other, seeing myself so easily falling prey to the very same. A constant battle, and I'm not under near as much pressure.
Rejection isn't easy, wherever it comes, though. No matter the reason.
And there is the ongoing cry that arises both of the flesh and also from the enemy that "it's not fair," which seeks to get me to assert self as unto grasping at "what is mine"--of emotional matters (like unto resentment, defiance), of perspective (as unto what would permit seeking my own will rather than God's, like unto running rather than bearing through). These things unto bitterness against others, ultimately. And I falter on that line more than any other, maybe (I falter on so many lines, it's hard to tell which is the most common fault). I falter in wanting to not esteem others as more valuable than myself, in the midst of pains which can be twisted to inspire self-seeking self-exaltation, as pain is twisted very often--unto giving in to the temptation to falsely believe I have attained a right to do else that submit to the Father, still, and seek His guidance in all things, including of the heart. Still.
I accept His will in all this. I don't understand, but I don't have to. Trusting Him means surrendering to whatever comes, accepting what is present, and waiting upon Him to guide each step hereafter without attempting to dredge up my own plan of action. Even asking others for counsel in what to do next, at this juncture, would equate to giving in to temptation to seek anything but to endure.
Spending time with my Father, though. He helps.
There's such a weird matter of avoiding pain, avoiding grief, avoiding feeling. Society counts it uncomfortable, doesn't know what to do with it, feels as though something needs to "be done" about it, rather than enduring silently alongside. Feeling at a loss to do anything, because nothing can be done is not something the world nor the flesh can endure. Feeling is tricksy business according to the world. We want emotions that are clinical--observed and only experienced to the extent they're comfortable to endure. We want to be in control of our emotions, as much as we want to be in control of everything else, including finances, lifestyles, plans, goals, marriage partners, and all else which is of life. We want to be in control. We're fine with conceding to adhere to guidelines others have proposed, if they are helpful, but we're pursuing life still on our own terms. Still without surrendering.
I'm still not sure how things go, if we don't ask for direction on these fronts. Whether maybe it's just that He leads blindly, unawares, despite our lack of expectation or desire for His guidance. I mean, He does keep us all alive, despite our general obliviousness to the fact. He does sustain our strength, to be able to do what is required of a day to gain provisions, despite that we don't necessarily consider the fact. So it makes sense that those of us who desire Him and love Him and yet aren't continually resting in awareness He's the One from whom all guidance and ability comes, instead still seeking to manage per our own strength and understanding to please Him...that He would and does and is nonetheless guiding, despite our somewhat faithlessness and misunderstanding of Him.
None of us understand Him perfectly, after all. That's impossible. So we're all operating to some extent under delusions and doubts regarding His will and ways and our relative place and responsibilities, otherwise we'd be perfectly obedient, as Christ is.
Yesterday was difficult--it wasn't tuned to the course of Scripture throughout, per bluetooth. He still carried me through and ultimately drew me to fellowship with Himself, even per prompting to reach out for prayer given particular distress of temptations. After reaching out, He reminded me to go and read.
Multiple things over course of the day, though. Foremost and constant was temptation to slip into oblivion, to deny grief, to turn aside and suppress truth. All day, that temptation stood fore, by varied means. Ultimately culminating in such temptations as to flee to another state, cross country. Even tempted to just leave and not return. He did not permit.
And I asked for prayer, which is not something easy. And thereafter came to mind the need to turn to Him in the Scriptures. And after time in His Word, time in prayer.
Time with Him cleanses, clarifies, soothes sufficient to allow breath. It's still a battle--thoughts still try to distract and dissuade and assault with all manner of ill, but when the desperate need to return to Him overwhelms to extent that He constantly returns thoughts to Himself, fixed upon simply receiving His Word rather than attempting to make anything out of it, there's help.
Remaining distant from Him allows only further distance to press in, though, until incapacitation of emotion gives way to temptations toward varied lies. Unto bitterness, unto hopelessness, unto anger at God, even. Either flee temptation or fall prey, it seems. But He is where we must turn to, submitting to Him, if we are fleeing temptation. Otherwise, we're only falling into another temptation. We have to turn to Jesus, return to Him, just to avoid the machinations and snares of the enemy and of the flesh.
Temptation upon temptation is all that awaits otherwise, when hearts and thoughts turn away from remembering and resting in who He is. Which is slipping away from the Lord, even being incrementally turned away by temptations not to endure grief.
And there've also been varied bits taunting and mocking, thus a different tack for attempting to sway unto delusion by attacking the legitimacy of grief, by attacking my own person and attempting to get focus to turn to self, unto pity or self-loathing or howsoever else--all effectively constitutes temptation to refute and disown truth, moreover. Which is blatantly a temptation unto delusion, as any sin is. But in these circumstances, forsaking clarity of memory and giving into temptation to turn away from truthfulness and sincerity would only further the cause of the enemy. Whatever it is, specific, it's just to steal, kill, and destroy, in general. And shadows are still lurking in so many corners, already.
No, then. Just no.
I've been wrongly counseled multiple times over course of this all, toward hardening my heart and attempting to determine the course by my own understanding rather than trusting the Lord. Even tempted to outright act in my own will, rather than submitting to God. All, to feed myself on lies just so as not to feel and as not to trust and obey. Temptation has been to return to manipulating my emotions, per distancing myself from feeling. Rather than submitting emotion to the Lord, asking Him to search my heart and cleanse of what displeases Him. And walking in submission to Him, rather than turning my own way--turning from Him by setting my mind and heart toward what "should" and "shouldn't" be felt, how things "should be" rather than trusting Him to guide and preserve.
I don't have to understand what's happened in order to see His grace in the midst. I don't have to be constantly at ease and without pain, in order to trust Him with all my heart and soul. I don't have to have the slightest idea what's to come, in order to rely upon Him for guidance every small step along the way.
Emotion doesn't rule, in Christ. He does, and He brings all things into subjection to Himself...of sincerity. So neither is emotion a realm allotted well toward further rebellions, unto delusion. He created us to feel. It arises. It's not ungodly to have and to develop affection. Even just to submit to Him, all the while. Just as it's written that we may become angry, but we're not to sin. And we know our foremost call is love--love God and love others. Period. Emotion is a matter which He created as part of our beings. He feels deeply. He grieves. He loves. He laments. He becomes angry. He is jealous, even. And zealous. And He rejoices, even singing over us whom He loves.
And our emotion isn't to be apart from submission to Him, is all--man's anger doesn't work the righteousness of God. And yet there is such a thing as holy zeal and passion for His glory, for the sake of His name. But it's not arisen apart from loving Him and loving others, in the midst.
I've heard multiple attempts to rationalize that love doesn't require emotion, these past couple years. Heard love consists and is expressed of doing things that are helpful and beneficial to others, and doesn't necessarily entail emotional involvement. I've got a Bible with commentary that says this, even--throughout the New Testament, the commentary makes this claim again and again. But the writings come through Paul clearly attest that love is emotional, not a matter of works:
If I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body [b]to be burned, but do not have love, it does me no good at all.So, that's pretty clear--explicitly distinguishes between works and love, as distinct. Makes it clear that even the most seemingly loving works toward man and toward God are empty, without love. The act itself isn't love and doesn't constitute love, though it might be viewed as such in the eyes of the world. But not so. It's hearts which matter. And when you consider what it is to "do oneself good," as far as God goes...this is a significant statement recorded per Paul. But wasn't so much of God's lamentation with Israel that their hearts were far from Him, though they still esteemed themselves His servants? Much of what's recorded by Him through the prophets makes this lamentation, this heartache, plain.
We have been told, though, that as the days progress, people will lose the ability to love. And we will love the ability to have "natural emotion." I know I'd forsaken and unconsciously lost both, before submitting to Christ. One of the pleas toward Him, prior to submitting to His ownership and direction as Lord of my life...was regarding His revealing to me the coldness of my heart. Despite that I'd considered myself very compassionate and feeling, up to that very moment. I believed I felt very deeply. But my heart was like a stone, even that the despair over finding it so was barely felt.
I had believed I was very loving, though. I believed I was very caring. Giving so many things, sharing what I had (not perfectly but continually), reaching out to others who were hurting. And I wanted to see the "best" for others--even discussing church and God with people to varied, very limited degrees. I even worked on influencing others toward "happiness," somewhat despairing to see despair and hopelessness in them.
But I was completely blind to the fact that everything I felt was filtered through a long-standing lens of delusion, having honed myself only to feel what seemed best, what seemed appropriate. Controlling every feeling, to varied extents, though some did overwhelm me still--those, I brought to heel using alcohol. And people considered me sincere. And good. And kind. And unassuming. And all sorts of things which were just patently false, at core. Even people in churches, of this.
And I still am learning, now, how to accept and not manipulate and subvert emotion--nor even to sublimate as to attain some "better" end. Still, I'm surrendering to Him and pursuing greater clarification and deliverance from all the wealth of lies and delusion I'd feasted on, prior. So I don't want to turn away, because things are difficult, because they hurt.
All the more not to return to the practice which got me in that initial predicament. "Controlling" and "adapting" one's emotion is a really dicey prospect. And I'm not sure it's ever right, given that it's not submitting to God for help but determining one's own "righteousness."
He has changed my heart and continues to do so, is all. But it's not something I drum up. It's not cognitive behavioral (replacement) therapy. It's being brought to a realization of the condition of my heart, of my emotions, in the light of remembrance of God--unto submitting to Him whatever arises.
And I'm so new to this, having only really begun to be aware of how dire a state it is within the past few years, and increasingly aware even over these recent months. Even now, all I can do is lay my heart before Him and ask Him for truth, for guidance, for direction, for deliverance as He wills. Or even for help, ongoing help, just to bear through in the midst. Rather than turning away, waiting upon Him and trusting Him.
After Job, there's now Psalm 119 and Isaiah. And of the initial half of Isaiah, the recurrent theme is of turning back to Him rather than continuing to rely upon idols, rely upon man, rely upon man's understanding, rely upon works. At one point, He said He would turn His own instruction toward telling people to do the same as the false teachers were doing--do and do, rule on rule, this and that--so that people would fall into their own pit. But that's what people had been devouring, per teaching of their spiritual guides and mentors.
The works He had called for were of repentance. Unto upholding and seeking mercy and justice. Securely built from a foundation of continual turning to Him, trusting in Him, relying upon Him, realizing salvation is in rest. Faith, though. Faith. Not works. The works arise out of faith, not out of man's understanding. He leads. Otherwise, we're acting apart.
We can't seek and know and pursue justice and mercy, lest we seek and know Him, is all. Otherwise, we end up calling evil good and good evil. He makes this clear: He's the sole foundation and source of knowledge of these things, and as people turned away from loving Him--as seeking and resting in Him and relying upon Him--though they believed they were still well, they were so sick they didn't even possess the insight to acknowledge their dire state of distress.
He said they paid Him lip service, but their hearts were far from Him. And as their hearts were far from Him, so became their actions. Rationalization upon rationalization, turning away from Him.
Jesus's condemnation of the Pharisees and the Scribes should especially give us warning, in terms of what seems like a general tendency to rely upon piecing together bits of Scripture unto righteous living. Rather than resting in the whole, as unto knowledge of God and trusting Him and seeking Him to guide through it all, change us through it all.
The Pharisees were paid the respect of Christ's noting they obeyed the letter of the law, yet they were blind and sick guides--obeying the letter of the law still left them wholly under the wrath of God. And the Scribes studied Scripture as their lifework--they knew it. Period. And yet He also called them out as people especially to beware.
Are we better than they are? If we think so, we're every bit the man standing before the altar praising God that he's not like other men. He's let me get to that point, before--I'm not far from there, still, except He continually reminds me of my baseness and inability apart from His constant keeping. For which I'm grateful, on both counts.
None of us is exempt from these things, though. None of us is better than another. We are all sinners in need of constant keeping, constant correction, constant direction, constant provision. Constant grace.
And on the flip side of becoming a Pharisee or Scribe, mentally, is tendency to idolize and worship others who seem especially saintly, especially godly, rather than remembering we're all creatures, we're all fallen. We're all on the same ground, lives fleeting. And He gives each of us gifts to serve Him and to minister to one another. So although we are to give honor and respect especially to those who serve us as ministers unto Him, that doesn't entail worship which esteems as though beyond faltering. Paul rebuked a church for that tendency, of people starting to go around identifying themselves with his teaching, versus that of others. As though he was perfect and as though he was the One who had saved them and was giving them guidance. We have to test all things, because it's the Spirit of Jesus which is who guides and yet there are many which would lead us astray, slyly.
We all fall prey to this, to varied degrees. But Jesus warned against it. We have one Teacher. One Rabbi. One Father, even, as it were.
Peter reiterated it, as well, even as Paul did in so many ways. And maybe we tend to fall prey to that mentality so easily because Western society is so fixated on heroes, as perhaps other societies are given to worshipping and idolizing their elders. Either way, it tends to allow for faltering per failure to test everything, versus just finding encouragement toward Christ even while realizing common sinfulness, shared faultiness. As unto testing everything. Everything. Every time. Constantly. Even (maybe especially) our own thoughts. Constantly.
Which is bringing all thoughts into submission to Christ--even those thoughts we have about others and about counsel. Bringing things to bear under the light of who He is, as part of being led of Him.
Much of Psalms are riddled with request for Him to lead, for Him to teach, for Him to correct and guide. To test heart and mind, so revealing what's hidden, and to acquit and lead instead in His righteousness. He uses His Word for this, but we can't manufacture understanding of a passage, unto conviction. Even if someone were a thief and they read passages about ceasing to steal, unless the Lord soften their heart to realize what it is to steal and convict them to turn from these matters, the human tendency is to be blind to the very words spoken as they actually apply. We rationalize our way into sinning, as it goes, by turning away from truth. So trying to assume our understanding is sufficient to go in reverse, putting pieces together unto determining the course of righteousness...is unto confusion. And confusion isn't of Him.
Confusion arises though, in the midst of deep waters. But where confusion is, rest has to reign, trusting Him to make the way straight, trusting Him to keep our heads above water.
I'm reminded again and again, though, of the regular response to these things. That it's as though you end up not doing anything, as though you end up not changing nor being inclined to change unless you specifically seek these things out. But that's not at all the case. Seeking Him, these things arise. Loving Him, there's conviction of what is not like Him, increasingly. All the while, then He directs. He cleanses. He changes us. He transforms.
I'm similarly reminded of the case made against grace: If salvation is such that it's received and not earned, and such that grace given is sufficient to cover all sins, then what would ever prompt anyone to do anything of good and what would be the reason not to continue in sin? That's a pretty sound argument, too, if you look at it all in worldly, fleshly terms. But as Paul was given to point out--if we are indeed covered by His grace, then does sin abound? As Paul said, God forbid! No, indeed.
God does as much as forbid sin to abound under grace. Not as a matter of restriction, but as a matter of course--receiving such love, such as per His grace, is unto inspiring and deepening a love of Him which ever prompts toward desiring to please the Beloved, thus unto desiring His righteousness, unto asking Him to lead in it. Knowing and being humbled to realize that though we falter, He is faithful and just to forgive as we turn and ask forgiveness. He leads in paths of righteousness for His name's sake, as it were.
That's what I read, at least. Faith, not works. Though faith is unto works, and thus not apart from them--but arising as fruit borne by healthy branches affixed to a thriving Vine. Not a matter of calculated risk and pursuit.
We tend to fear not doing, though. We tend to feel as though we have to do something. As though His work wasn't and isn't sufficient, as though we can add anything to Him or ourselves or others by attempting to strive according to our own understanding. Rather than waiting for direction, trusting Him to guide. There's temptation to assume that if we wait upon His guidance, we'll somehow miss His direction, His prompting, His lead.
Waiting, though, is a trial all its own, requiring trust of Him and rest in the knowledge of who He is. He works in us so many things, in the waiting: Confronting doubts and revealing uncertainties about who He is, confronting faithlessness and our tendencies to rest in our own strength rather than in Him. It all comes down to who He is, though, and whether we take Him at His Word.
Waiting has a way of bringing these matters of heart to light, as anxieties and fears arise, too. If we believe He will lead us in the works prepared for us, then we don't give way to feeling anxiously, fearfully pressured to grasp for works. Rather, in rest we will find ourselves in the midst of varied pursuits and acts. Even if passing, and bit by bit, then still. Sometimes just one conversation at a time, encouraging in Christ and speaking truth. And still, there are also times of rest, unexpected, in the midst. And so many things endeavored, along the while.
But these endeavors are not at all like the ones in life, before submitting to Christ: Always busy, but never satisfied with completion. Always occupied, but never at peace with the work. And in times of recurrent collapse--listless and bereft of desire to even live--bereft of movement, altogether despairing.
Now, not at all. There are things to do, and He walks alongside through them daily. And there are often times of busyness, but endeavored per Him and trusting Him all the while. And sometimes just to be available, sometimes just to be able to sit with Him alongside others. Just to be present. In a world of busyness.
But these last few months, I've been distracted from His sufficiency in the midst of varied turmoil, and beginning to feel at a loss for particular fellowship. It's His fellowship I've missed. He's given me fellowship with others, fairly regularly. So there isn't a lack of companionship. There's just been a lack of fellowship with Christ, Himself.
Which He has let me realize, last evening. So I can't but throw myself on His mercy again, and ask Him again to help me be faithful. It isn't of me, to manage to do so: I could aspire to maintain the sort of rigid discipline as once attempted, without help prior to coming to Him for assistance. But it was draining and unto further despair and distraction. Yet when it's been love of Him and longing for Him driving my devotion times and affording me the desire to cleave to Him, the times were sweet and rich and blessed.
So, while asking Him to help me prevent from denying truth and hiding from emotions that are painful, I'm so grateful He's turning me back to Himself in the midst. Even being more clearly reminded it's His fellowship I miss is unto asking Him to help, which is unto receiving. So I'm trusting Him to help me turn all the more toward Him.
I don't want lies. I don't want distraction. I don't want delusion. I don't want to dredge up my own righteousness, but want to walk in the righteousness which is my Lord's own work in me. I want Jesus, Himself, moreover. And I want to honor Him in the midst of everything.
And I can't muster up the ability to be good and do what's right without divine intervention. But He's shown me again and again that He's willing to give that gift, leading in His light, as it's requested. Working so many things, all the while.
I trust Him, though. He is trustworthy. He alone is fully trustworthy. None of us are, ultimately--having ever failed God, we have proven otherwise. And failing Him is evidence of failing one another. So if we believe ourselves trustworthy, we're deluded by sin. If we try to be trustworthy, apart from remaining submitted to Christ's constant leading, we're deluded. But He is trustworthy, so (as Oswald Chambers noted) as we walk alongside one another aware of the effects of sin and the presence of sin in one another--surrendering it all, all the while to the Lord--we can have fellowship in the Spirit, which is in the light of truth, in the light of His love.
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