Times when that which is oppressively opposed to the truth of the Lord seems to be closing in, on all sides--to crush, consume, and destroy...
Times, also, when even my own heart and mind seem bent upon betraying love of the Lord--every thought and desire seeming utterly convoluted, as though intent upon diverting from both retention and pursuit of holiness...destroying from within--calling all which is true and holy into question...
Along such lines as: "Surely truth is relative. And if truth is relative, then what does any sort of exaltation of one truth above any other equate to, except a sort of moralizing judmentalism?...and what purpose does that even serve--except perhaps constituting some surely-pretentious exercise in what could only be considered self-exaltation?"
There are times, then...when I despair that I may become so shaken as to turn away from the Lord... Unto sin. Unto the domain of darkness, once again. Unto death. As in: "It's all relative, anyway--right?"
At times, when this all seems to be the case--my every act and word seems baseless, seems unfounded, seems even sometimes corrupt and profane, just for being proposed to counter those notions of demoralizing relativity. Sometimes it seems best, then, to revert to silence...all while clinging to remembering the Lord.
And there's much prayer, prior to acting along such lines--of times when circumstances have been personally dire, conviction has persisted to speak up for conscience's sake--again and again, I ultimately find myself at a loss to defend myself for even doing so. I again find myself unable to defend both to myself and then also to those who interpret my actions and ideas in ways which deviate so completely from initial, prayerful discussions of concerns. All while knowing I never go about such things perfectly, at all--which makes such situations all the more prayerful and heart-breaking.
All the more, now--enduring what seems an extended and more expansive period of going back and forth between these varied aspects of encountering darkness...and, especially encountering this lattermost on a larger scale--where sometimes people openly denounce actions and speech (though, at present, this is still not being done as openly as could be the case, as perhaps will eventually again become the case)...
...all the more, now...I only know to cast myself on the mercy of God.
While remembering who He is.
And remembering who I am, in light of that greater reality.
He is good.
He is faithful.
He is merciful.
He is kind.
He is forgiving.
He is love.
He is holy.
He is just.
His wrath is on sin.
His will is done in all the earth.
He will by no means clear the guilty.
He will avenge Himself, including injustices and grievances committed one man against another.
He came in the flesh to reiterate these truths and so many likewise.
He was despised, rejected, counted as smitten by God.
He was numbered amongst the transgressors.
He was crucified, becoming a curse.
He bore the sins of the world, in His crucifixion and death.
He died, and in that He did...all died.
He resurrected, that we may have life in Him.
All have sinned. All have gone astray. None seek God. None do righteousness.
All our righteousness is as filthy rags, before our holy and just God.
Christ, alone, lived a sinless life. He alone, among all mankind, is righteous.
He is God, incarnate. Born of woman, Son of God.
I have sinned. I deserve His wrath. Completely.
I deserve eternal punishment. Completely. Irrevocably.
It would be righteous on His part for God to set me in my place in the lake of eternal fire.
In Christ, alone, I have forgiveness.
In Christ, alone, my sins have been atoned for.
In Christ, alone, I can simultaneously become more deeply aware of the absolute wretchedness of my sins--being driven to greater grief and despair and horror, in light of more deeply realizing the reality of what it is to sin against God, and to sin against those He loves, becoming also more deeply humbled by realization of my utter, wholehearted guilt which continually drives me to Christ, shamefacedly pleading for mercy--while being more deeply devastated by the encompassing glory of His love and forgiveness.
And I can accept I have no justification for myself. Only Christ is my justification. Period.
And I can know this does not excuse evil-doing, does not excuse sin. And His indwelling presence provides hope that I will not continue in sin, indefinitely. He will continue to give strength, to grant repentance, to provide a means of escaping temptation.
And with deep lamentation over the horror of continuing to sin, I can still find some measure of grief-stricken relief in knowing that He will have mercy...even to redeem the depravity of actions in defiance of Him and others. While still needing to confess and seek forgiveness, all the while.
And so He redeems, despite me...making all things work to the good, for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. So, I will not rejoice in my own perceived goodness--knowing whatever there is which is good in me, is there by His mercies and not per my own striving--so I only rejoice in His grace and mercy toward me and others.
I can continually surrender, then, presenting myself a living sacrifice to Him--as is only right and proper, suitable action, unto the One who is my sovereign and redeemer.
And I can trust Him in any darkness--though I may walk haltingly as though blind. Though I may fear at any moment to falter fully or to fall--fearing to dishonor Him and make a byword of His name (not as when honoring Him, when those who despise Him use any cause to mock both Him and those who love Him and follow Him...but fearing to bring mockery by my own disservice to His good name).
Though fearing to falter in the darkness, I will still walk by the light of His love and the desire to honor Him and others--though I again and again despair of how imperfect and incomplete is my own...
I then must look to Him--the author and perfecter of my faith--knowing I am insufficient for all tasks at-hand. I must look to Jesus, who has gone before me, entering into the veil, who remains steadfast as my anchor. I must look to Him, who did not falter even though the darkness pierced Him with nails, affixing Him to that horrid, glorious cross...on my behalf...in my place..
I must look to Him, whose love did not falter, even being crucified. Who, instead, cried out for mercy on the very ones--even all of us--who crucified Him. By our sin, by our defiance, by our love of the darkness.
Thusly looking unto Jesus--though the darkness surrounds me and seeks to entreat and consume and suffuse and overwhelm and mock and crush and devastate and destroy...by any means--still, I will look unto Him...
And I will love Him, all the more. Him, who first loved me. Who gave His life for me--even me.
So, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will not fear.
For, to Him--darkness is as light. He has overcome the world. And He is with me.
Though I may not see the path afar off, He will guide my steps.
And when I do fall. I will get back up. And His guidance will continue: A voice, saying this is the way--walk in it...turning me to the right, or to the left.
And I will trust Him. Him, the One who has delivered my soul from death, hell, and the grave. The One who has given me new life and the light of hope to bear along the way.
Him--whom I love, though I have not yet seen.
I will look to Him.
And He will never leave nor forsake me.
And though I am faithless, He is faithful. For He will not deny Himself.
And He will complete the work which He had begun.
And He is preparing a place for us. That where He is, we may be also.
That we may behold His glory.
For every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess...Jesus Christ is Lord.
These are the things which I need, to survive the onslaught.
I need to be in His Word. Continually.
I need His Word to live in my heart and mind. Moment by moment putting all things into subjection to the truth of Christ. That I may be still, knowing He is God.
And I need to pray. I need to give thanks. With song.
And I need to love Him and others, as He has loved me. Laying down my life, day to day.
Yet except that He be merciful and give grace, by His Spirit, to empower the pursuit of each of these, according to truth and not some carnal flight of fancy? I know I am inept and incapable.
For my best efforts according to the flesh would and do only amount to further defiance against Him. Except that He is merciful to intervene, consistently--to redirect to Himself, to redirect to truth.
And so His Word reminds me of Him and my need of Him. And His Word reproves, and corrects, and encourages, and builds up, and sanctifies. I need His Words. I need Christ, Himself. I need to know Him and to know of Him--to have my mind continually renewed and washed in the pure water of His Word. And even cleansed by the fear of the Lord, which is clean. Holy. And to spend time with Him, in prayer and the fellowship of His Spirit. Even amongst the brethren.
The Lord be with you, wherever you are.
We are battling, here, in this world. Christ Jesus came, and the lines were drawn distinctly.
Though there is continually an attempt to erase those lines--now, same as ever has been--truth is unassailable.
God is true. Though every one of us be liars.
If are to grow to the measure of maturity--our discernment exercised as to know between that which is good and evil--we must know Christ, Himself. This comes by His Spirit, as we call out to Him for mercy, continually dwelling in His Word, walking by the light of our faith in God--knowing Him, trusting Him, resting in Him, our every thought and pursuit increasingly fixed on Jesus Christ, Himself. All of which is a work of the Lord, indeed: Set apart for Him. By Him: Working in us the will and the ability to do His will.
That we would evermore be testing all things, to see if they are of God.
Entering His rest, we have the peace He has given us in Christ--not a peace as the world gives. Though the storm rages. Though we are destroyed. Though our very lives are taken.
Still, we may be still--resting in Him and trusting Him. Because we know Him and are able to reflect upon the reality of who He is in the midst of it all.
He is present with us. May His Word abide in us richly.
I am reminded that every time I have encountered death--thinking of those instances, particularly, which were unexpected--His mercy has been exceedingly unexpected and great. His peace has consumed the fear which accompanies entering that moment. And also eclipsed the pain. And after coming back to life, what pain remained as a result of the instances with injury...was endurable, by His grace.
He will give grace as necessary, in each moment. Whatever we face.
Though Death, Satan, all the Legions of hell: Whatever we face, God is greater.
Always has been. Always will be.
Submitting to Him, then, we overcome and may remain in his rest:
His name is a strong tower. He is our refuge, our shield and defender.
Submitting to Him, humbly acknowledging our abject insufficiencies--trusting the outcome will be according to His will, whatever it be...no matter the pain, incapacitation, fear, death...
...even loving--with an absolute abandon--foremost in the direction of the Lord, then unto others, thereby...trusting Him with all the pieces of our shattering hearts and lives, however they may fall: Entrusting Him with our entire heart, yes--our whole being, with all we are--for knowing He is worthy, knowing He is trustworthy: Knowing all this, living all this...for knowing Him...
...Our rest will thus ever be in Him, in the midst of any darkness.
No matter how deep the darkness. His love is deeper still.
(Betsie Ten Boom, "There is no pit so deep, that God's love is not deeper still.")
So may we forge onward, grabbing hands along the way with one another and others with whom we plead--that they would seek the light of Christ, which we know and follow. Though we may not see His light fully, all the while. Whatever it costs, may we press on. Even for just one, beloved. For the love of Christ, for the love of those others for whom He died (for whom He now also lives).
John 15:13-19
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you. Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for all things that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you. Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain: that whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in my name, he may give it you. These things I command you, that ye love one another.
If the world hate you, ye know that it hated me before it hated you. If ye were of the world, the world would love his own: but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you.
Dear Lord, guard us and guide us. By Your Almighty hand, Father, keep us from evil. Deliver us from temptation. Let us love, purely and completely as You have done. Purify us, Father, by Your Word. Purify us, by Your Spirit. Lord, give us strength to follow with boldness and clarity of speech and heart, no matter what assails. Help us to honor You with our thoughts, hearts and lives. And Lord, forgive us for stumbling. Over ourselves and others. Lord, forgive us for failing You again and again. Cleanse us. Search our hearts and minds and reveal whatever wicked ways are in us, and deliver us Lord. Into Your hands we commit ourselves. Help us honor You with discerning, bold speech, that we would share the Gospel--the power of salvation--to all those with whom You would give the grace so to do. Lord, help us. And send many more, also, to share Your Gospel of grace, in Christ Jesus. Amen.
