Everlasting to Everlasting

Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name.

Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits—

who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, 

who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, 

who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
The Lord works righteousness and justice for all the oppressed. (Psalm 103:1-6)

As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; 

for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.
As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field;
the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more.
But from everlasting to everlasting the Lord’s love is with those who fear him,
and his righteousness with their children’s children—with those who keep his covenant and remember to obey his precepts.
The Lord has established his throne in heaven, and his kingdom rules over all.
Praise the Lord, you his angels, you mighty ones who do his bidding, who obey his word.
Praise the Lord, all his heavenly hosts, you his servants who do his will.
Praise the Lord, all his works everywhere in his dominion.
Praise the Lord, O my soul. (Psalm 103:13-22)

Into the Storm

In this world, hurt always becomes hate. It is the way of things.

Through the dark, Jesus calls us to a different way. He holds out his hands - pierced for us - and offers to let us love through the hurt. It is no simple thing. It is unnatural. It flies in the face of all that we have been taught, and all that we feel. It is perhaps the biggest fight of our lives, this struggle to give up our right to hate. It is also maybe the way we most exercise faith - faith that says there is a God of mercy who sees and allows; faith that announces the presence of another, spiritual realm, where heart-choices matter and Love always wins, no matter what the score looks like from here.

I feel so tired of this struggle. I want to run away. I am ashamed of my own weakness and small-ness. I am lost and weary and disappointed. Everything in me tends toward hate. No, not everything. God's Spirit is in me, and he longs for love to overcome. He trusts. Waits. Tugs me forward when I would fall down in despair. Touches me gently when the hurt grows too great. Draws my eyes from my miserable self. In his time, he will give me freedom and peace. He will give me new eyes to see and a new heart to love. He will quell the deep fears that shake my soul. He will teach me to dance a dance that will please the heart of God himself.

My heart is in anguish within me; the terrors of death assail me. Fear and trembling have beset me; horror has overwhelmed me. I said, “Oh, that I had the wings of a dove! I would fly away and be at rest—I would flee far away and stay in the desert; Selah. I would hurry to my place of shelter, far from the tempest and storm.” (Psalm 55:4-8)

But as for me, I trust in you. (Psalm 55:23)

When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly. (1 Peter 2:23)

I, too, will entrust myself to him who judges justly. I will fold up my jumbled fears and hurts and misplaced wants, and I will give them to him who is able to turn them into something valuable. I will call on his Name, that great I AM. I will bend myself before him and worship him with singing. I will learn who he is. Someday, I will fly free - not to escape the storm, but into the storm. I will bring God joy.

A Message

I don't even know her name, but I have been drawn to her since I first met her - was it the first day I went tiptoeing, nervous and late, into the little church I attend here? The services are all in Korean. I can't understand very much, except the readings and the songs and some of the prayers. I liked her because she was real, and gentle - I don't mean gentle as people usually mean it, soft and weak and meek; rather, she has a sort of humbled strength. I knew she wasn't judging me for coming late.
She always greets me with a hug - odd in Korea and for her age, so worth even more than hugs usually are - but I am not her charity project, nor a curiousity, though I can tell for most people it is strange and maybe even a little exotic to have a foreigner attending church alongside them. She travels from the city, and takes care of her sick parents-in-law, so there is no time for us to meet outside the worship hour on Sundays. We hardly know each other, and we know little of each other's lives. Yet we have an odd comfortableness between us - this middle-aged lady and me.
Today I went to greet her after the service, and she wrapped her arms around me in a way that is always a surprise in this land of physical reserve, and then spoke quietly and quickly. Her tone was urgent, as though there was time for neither preamble nor the usual hesitance - an acknowledgment that we are speaking a language I am still not very good at.
"I have been praying for you," she said in Korean, smiling and looking into my eyes. "Trust in the love of Jesus. He loves deeply and truly. Don't trust people. They will let you down."
I nodded and looked at her. She took my arm and steered me away from the people that stood near. She seemed unembarrassed to be speaking pointedly for no outward reason. She had a message to deliver, and she would deliver it.
"Jesus' love will never fail you. Look to him, not to people. They mean well, but they are flawed. Trust only him."
She went on, saying she wished we could meet, but she had to take care of her husband's parents. Her father-in-law has lung cancer. I could pray for him, she said. It was her "army time", she explained. Every man in Korea goes to the army for two years of conscripted service. It is a time of hardship and loneliness, as the rules are strict, and they are seldom given days off to visit friends and loved ones - but most come out better for their experience, and with a greater sense of responsibility. She was taking responsibility like a good soldier, despite the hardship. Yet she had time to pray for me and somehow understand what I needed.
It was time for me to go. She walked me to the door, then put on her shoes and walked with me to the elevator. I motioned for her to go back inside.
"No," she said. "I want to see you a little more. I lived abroad for four years, so I understand a little bit what it's like." She smiled broadly and with understanding. "Remember, I am praying for you."
The elevator came and I stepped in, grateful to her but nearly speechless.
How did she know?
Dear fellow-servant of the Living God. You gave me strength today.

What Shall I Say?

I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me.

“Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name!” (John 12:24-27)

Jesus...withdrew about a stone’s throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” (Luke 22:39-42)

Jesus knew the great disconnect in the human heart, between what we choose and what we feel; what we sense and what we know. He walked straight into it, and allowed it to cut across him and separate him from all that was his. Through his rending, we have the hope of reconciliation; of pure single-heartedness before God. When will that day come, when all is made whole, when life is no longer dogged by death and love no longer shadowed by self?

Christ in You: A Mystery

It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled, not outside my window, but deep inside my heart. I was hated. Me, God's favorite child, hated. Despitefully used. Hurt. It was bewildering, but I appealed to God. He would come to my rescue. He would deal swiftly and surely with such an affront, I was sure.

To my great confusion, he was silent. I was heartsore.

"Father!" I cried. "Come and avenge me! Fight for me - I am your child!"

"Because he loves me," says the LORD, "I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name." (Psalm 91:14)

How could he refuse me?

At last, he spoke.

"If I am truly your Father," he said, "forgive."

Then again, I found myself overlooked, ignored, unloved. 

"But I have a Father," I thought. "He loves me. He will not allow such neglect of his child."

Again, he was silent.

Could it be that a loving Father would let me down in my hurt?

"Father!" I cried. "Come and rescue me! Surround me with warmth and love again."

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. (Hebrews 4:15)

Surely he would come. He knows what it feels like to hurt.

And again, I heard his voice.

"If I am truly your Father," he said, "love. And expect nothing in return."

If he is truly my Father, he can give me the power and the great freedom to will and to be like him. To seek not my own, even from him.

God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. (Colossians 1:27)

For I am the LORD, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you. (Isaiah 41:13)

Hand in Hand

Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall: but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. (Isaiah 40:30-31)

Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands... (Isaiah 51:15-16)

Father, I cannot choose which way to go or what will happen to me, but I can choose to hold tight to your hand or go on alone. Let me keep my hand in yours, no matter how much I just long to run away! Help me to be humble and kind. Keep my mind on others, and not on myself. Show me your way, only-wise God. Conquer my heart.

Be Not Blind

Far in the future lieth a fear;
Like a long, low, mist of gray,
Gathering to fall in dreary rain;
Thus doth thy heart within thee complain.
And even now thou art afraid, for round thy dwelling
The flying winds are ever telling
Of the fear that lieth gray
Like a gloom of brooding mist upon the way.

But The Lord is always kind;
Be not blind, be not blind
To the shining of His face,
To the comforts of His grace
Hath He ever failed thee yet?
Never, never. Wherefore fret?
O fret not thyself, nor let thy heart be troubled,
Neither let it be afraid.

Near, by thy footfall, springeth a joy,
Like a new-blown little flower
Growing for thee, to make thee glad.
Let thy countenance be no more sad,
But wake the voice of joy and health within thy dwelling,
And let thy tongue be ever telling,
Not of fear that lieth gray,
But of little flowers beside the way.

For the Lord is always kind,
Be not blind, be not blind
To the shining of His face,
To the comforts of His grace.
He hath never failed thee yet.
Never will His love forget.
O fret not thyself, nor let thy heart be troubled,
Neither let it be afraid.

(from Kohila, by Amy Carmichael)

On the Road to Jericho

I'm all in pieces,
Pulled apart;
Strewn about,
Pell-mell

Like the man who traveled the Jericho road, I have fallen among thieves. They have robbed me of peace, of certainty, of joy. They have left me all disjointed and unsure; hurt and weak and bewildered. I am wrapped in darkness and confusion.

I hear the voice of Reason, faint and weak and far away: it says that God is true and loves still, that he has not forgotten and will not forget, that he is here beside me and holds my hand. But, oh - my heart is a storming child who rages on and on, refusing comfort. And I can hardly hear above its shrieking cries...

Jesus, gentle Jesus... Come to me through the deepening dark; reach out your hand like the pitying Samaritan, and let your perfect love cast out my fear and my confusion. Remember the days when I loved you single-heartedly, trusted you fully, and matched my steps to yours? Remember when you whispered your love into my heart...we shared our plans and went forward hand in hand? Remember when I belonged to you - all of me - heart and mind and spirit? Turn me again. Let me love you with the love of a dog...devoted and unwavering and warm. Let me know and choose and feel without disconnect. Let me be whole again. Let me belong to you - wholly - again.

Restlessness

All my longings lie open before you, O Lord; my sighing is not hidden from you. (Psalm 38:9)

I have seen a little of the terrible beauty and vastness of God. Is this why I am so unsatisfied by the dimness and wretchedness of my own soul? I am so utterly tired of the smallness I find within myself: it hems me in on every side. Where shall I run from myself? With what do I clothe a nakedness of soul? 

I am weary of my own frantic scratching and scrabbling. I long to fly free. I long to love God as he meant me to love him. I long to see things in a right perspective. I long for Jesus to come across the water-filled gap, like he did to the man living among tombs in the land of the Gadarenes, and give me peace from the inside out. I long for his great Mother-heart to come in pity and soothe the fitful child that cries and writhes within me. I long for rest.

How long, O Lord? How long?

You hear, O LORD, the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry. (Psalm 10:17)

Complaint

I will stand at my watch and station myself on the ramparts; I will look to see what he will say to me, and what answer I am to give to this complaint. (Habakkuk 2:1)

Father, I will not do this my way. I will learn what you have to teach me. I will bend my heart to you. I will wait. I will listen for your voice. I will have your good. I will have You.