Still constant in a wondrous excellence"
(Borrowing these words out of context
from Shakespeare's Sonnet 105, to repurpose
them as a description of my Lord and God)
"Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,
Still constant in a wondrous excellence" (Borrowing these words out of context from Shakespeare's Sonnet 105, to repurpose them as a description of my Lord and God)
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This is a slightly amended version of a post from August 2014. I went searching for it just now because it has become newly meaningful to me. ___________________________________________________________
I've been slowly grasping that Matthew 11:29 is at the very core of the Christian life. It's a variation on "abide in Me" (John 15:4). The yoke analogy goes further in one sense, revealing an intriguing truth: as we work through what's been placed before us, we're not working for God, nor is He working independently of us. We're yoked together as a team. Oxen are co-workers; their master trains and guides them. In the Matthew 11 metaphor, Jesus is our Master but also our Co-worker. He could force the yoke on us, but He doesn't. He waits until our love and reverence for Him compels us to learn His ways. Then He works alongside us, bearing a yoke that has no place on His own neck so that He can carry the heavier part of the load and at the same time let us learn the rhythm of His movements and steps. Some of us oxen take a very, very long time to train. There may be a giant storehouse somewhere containing all the yokes I've torn off or damaged in my rebellion and foolishness. But He isn't angry or dismayed. Only God is holy; the rest of us need a Redeemer.
I became particularly interested in learning this hymn recently, after hearing it sung to the Early American folk melody "Foundation." The lyrics were written by someone referred to simply as "K" in John Rippon's Selection of Hymns (1787). The Lord gave me this hymn to remind me of His unshakeable commitment, to me and to all of us who have leaned on Jesus for repose. At times the story we see unfolding before us may look like a tragedy, and at times it is. But behind the scenes, even by means of tragedy and trouble, He is writing the fuller story, one in which He is both the champion and the incomparable prize. I've posted the tune below as the second part of a fiddle medley; it begins about one minute in. All three tunes are lovely -- I hope you enjoy the video. How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, Is laid for your faith in His excellent Word! What more can He say than to you He hath said, To you who for refuge to Jesus have fled? "Fear not, I am with thee; O be not dismayed, For I am thy God, and will still give thee aid; I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, Upheld by My righteous, omnipotent hand. "When through fiery trials thy pathways shall lie, My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply; The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine. "The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose I will not, I will not desert to his foes; That soul, though all hell should endeavour to shake, I'll never, no never, no never forsake." One morning a few weeks ago, I was serenaded awake with the refrain of a song I barely know. I must have heard it at church, but I couldn't tell you when; I sure didn't remember it well enough to know the words. Well, thankfully, the Lord had planted it in my memory; the refrain and tune aren't all that complicated. The song is called "Only Trust Him." It was written in 1874 by John H. Stockton (1813-1877). What a way to wake up. I love you: trust Me. Tonight, after a disappointing day (still sick with bronchitis after almost two weeks, getting more and more behind, and having to miss a special event tomorrow), I sat my grouchy self down in front of YouTube and, well, you can guess what happened. I was serenaded again. The Lord knows what matters; He has it all in hand. Only trust Him. "Only Trust Him" Performed on YouTube by Dr. Bill's Mountain Music - Appalachian Dulcimer Demo's Come, every soul by sin oppressed;
There’s mercy with the Lord, And He will surely give you rest By trusting in His Word. Refrain: Only trust Him, only trust Him, Only trust Him now; He will save you, He will save you, He will save you now. For Jesus shed His precious blood Rich blessings to bestow; Plunge now into the crimson flood That washes white as snow. (Refrain) Yes, Jesus is the truth, the way, That leads you into rest; Believe in Him without delay And you are fully blessed. (Refrain) Come, then, and join this holy band, And on to glory go To dwell in that celestial land Where joys immortal flow. (Refrain) O Jesus, blessèd Jesus, dear, I’m coming now to Thee; Since Thou hast made the way so clear And full salvation free. (Refrain) (Source of lyrics) Just now I was checking a detail on here and noticed this post from March of 2014. It gave me a little twinge, reading that the "treasure hunt" was brand new to me five years ago, and reading the delight I was having in discovering it. The Lord and I still meet this way, and He has shown me many rich and beautiful things. These days I am into noting new cross-references -- related passages that seem to have been overlooked by the publisher of my Bible -- but instead of being an academic distraction (as apparently I might have found it five years ago), this is now an adventure too. But how lovely to have just discovered that the Lord is El Shaddai! Our everything, all we will ever need. What's also remarkable here is the Lord's timing, since just a week or so ago I had the privilege of hearing Charles Price speak at some length on the first half of the book of Romans, addressing this very question of "How can we sin no more?" Last but not least, for the last while I've had the gift (yes, gift, apparently) of repeatedly, exasperatingly coming face to face with my own failure. Lord, You don't ask me to know the way; You are the Way. I know now that You love me. The journey seems long some days, but we are on it together. Your loveliness will sustain me.
This morning, half way to church on the hilly backroads, I saw a huge bank of ominous black clouds. Visually, it was beautiful, the juxtaposition of the land and the dark clouds on a nearly snowless winter day. The layers of colour -- blue, white, grey, brown, gold, black, and even a hint of almost green -- spoke to my heart about my Lord, for it was He who painted this landscape.
But wow, was that a storm coming? I didn't see this in the forecast, but then I had only checked the forecast for my own town, which is at least half an hour away from the church. For a moment I thought, this was a mistake. At this time of year a rain storm could become something much more treacherous. Once inside, I put the weather behind me. At one point near the end of the morning, I looked out the window and saw that the sky was now a grey-white canopy. No more storm looming. There are black clouds over my life right now. A relationship that is precious to me is in danger. I don't know what to do. I can't fix it. There are too many layers. I may be able to buffer the storm in some ways, but whatever happens will have to just play out in the Lord's own timing. Looking back on the year that has just passed, I see the Lord's wisdom in having brought other alarming storms. By His grace, I survived them all; by His grace, each one changed me. I'm not the same as I was a year ago. In some ways I am sadder, but I am more sure of my God, and more trusting of His heart. One of the first things that struck me, as these relationship clouds grew darker recently, was that God Himself knows what this feels like. Relationships that are precious to Him are in danger. God, who can fix anything, is now in the position of waiting for each of us to choose. He will not force His love upon anyone. Waiting hurts. Watching a loved one close doors, even for a time, hurts. I am not meant to be the fulfilment of everything someone was created to be. Of course not. But God is. Imagine how much more it hurts for Him. One thing I know, though. Whether God allows these black clouds over my life to pour, or rain ice, or whether He allows them to soften into a grey-white canopy, He will carry me through them. I am His. He has found me. I have chosen.
(Something to keep in mind when life is a wild ride and you're wondering what the Lord could possibly be up to.) *Scott, J. H. 2007. FireWords: Fire Science Glossary, description as it appeared in Aug. 2017 on http://www.firewords.net/definitions/backfire.htm. (U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, Rocky Mountain Research Station, Fire Sciences Laboratory [Producer], http://www.fs.fed.us/fmi [updated: https://www.firelab.org/fmi]) I was very sick on Sunday; almost the only thing that helped was a series of hot showers. It's interesting, because my hot-water tank at times tends to peter out before I've finished a normal-length shower, but last Sunday every one of my numerous showers was hot and soothing for as long as I needed it to be. Thank You, Lord Jesus, for caring about such seemingly small details of a person's life.
Everything God creates gives a picture of Him in some way. Each human being's unique gifts are in fact God's own gifts, planted like seeds and waiting to blossom under His care. Water is a picture of God. It's the most remarkable and mysterious substance: at the same time visible and invisible, gentle and yet terrifyingly powerful. It's a key element of life when we ingest it but it's also able to remove contaminants when we wash with it. If you act as though water is not to be feared, you will soon learn otherwise. What is water made of? Two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen, I know (a trinity), but how can such a thing be? The Living Water, God, is able to give life and take it away; He is, ultimately, the only Source we cannot live without. But there are days when the thing we most need to know about the Living Water is that when we are exhausted, or sick, or (for so many reasons) parched, He Himself is there, an immortal healing tonic, waiting to restore us to health. Reposted from August 2014 because I needed to hear this again (and perhaps you do too). ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him.
Hebrews 11:6 It's interesting to read in Hebrews 11:6 that believing He is a rewarder of those who seek Him is actually a vital part of what demonstrates faith to Him. I had never noticed this before. I have no trouble anymore believing that He is. I did for a while, but He met me there; I have a great "Thomas" story. Now He's meeting me in part two -- believing that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him. For some reason, it's been at least as hard as part one. Maybe it's because of low self-esteem? If so, it may mean I subconsciously equate reward with performance, even in spiritual things. Why does He care so much that I know He is my rewarder that He counts it as a key component of what faith looks like? Wow, the answer to that question will reveal a lot. It's NOT that He is a rewarder of my performance. He is a rewarder of my seeking Him. He is the Lover watching intently for the footsteps of His beloved; when He catches a glimpse of her rushing towards Him, He is overcome with joy. "Part one" of faith as described in Hebrews 11:6 is the introduction part, where we say "yes" and begin to find out more about this wonderful Person who has called us. "Part two" is the binding together part, where we get to know the heart of the wonderful Person Himself, letting Him gradually unveil to us how very deeply He loves us. This is the reward! He is the Reward, and the Rewarder. Hooray! Part two will take all of eternity. Today is a very, very good day to start. Years ago, as a young Christian (a condition that unfortunately went on for decades), I misunderstood the concept that we love Christ because He first loved us. This thought made me indignant. Can't my love also initiate a response of love from Him? Listen up, younger me, if you can hear this: First of all, of course Christ also responds to your love. Your question comes from a place of longing, where you want to be truly met and give back that same sort of love. But no (and this is not a contradiction), you cannot by yourself initiate a response of love from Him, because the love you have for Him came from Him in the first place. The Holy Spirit planted it there when He came to live in you. His mission is to grow that love day by day forever, until it's a sky-shattering, crystal-clear-pure, spilling-over-every-bank sort of love. And when it finally reaches that point, it will have only just begun to blossom, by comparison to His love for you. Secondly, your question comes from a place of misunderstanding what Jesus really did at Calvary. You understand it partially, but you don't grasp -- because none of us can grasp -- what He carried for us all on that day. To pay our redemption, He carried everything in our place. You may appreciate this a bit better when you get to the end of the year 2016 and the world is falling apart at breakneck speed before your eyes. When this happens, remember this -- Christ died not only to rescue us, but to conform us into His own holy image. Everything in you that is not like Christ yet is trying to destroy Christ. Hint: pick the right team in this battle. Don't make choices that will put anything at war against His own nature. I mention all this because, looking around, I am aching for the perfect, holy heart of Jesus to be visible without compromise, so that all those who are given eyes to see will say "yes" to Him. I also mention it because of a hymn we sang in church not long ago. The story behind it is not far off my own story of misplaced indignance. The story is here ("O Christ, What Burdens Bowed Thy Head" hymn page): A soldier's misunderstanding The hymn is "O Christ, What Burdens Bowed Thy Head," written by Anne R. Cousin (1824-1906). The tune, "Substitution," was composed by Ira D. Sankey (1840-1908). Here are Anne Cousin's lyrics, which also appear on the page I've linked to above. Perhaps never in all of history have we so needed to respond in humility and repentance to the message of this hymn.
We sang this at church today. I cried. "Majestic Sweetness Sits Enthroned" Lyrics by Samuel Stennett (1727-1795) Music by Thomas Hastings (1784-1872) (Full lyrics here) For always, Jesus. I posted the following excerpt on the "Praise reflections" page in February 2014:
Today I would like to add a deep thank you to the Lord for the reason we can rest in Him this way and not let the above unravel us:
He keeps the feet of His godly ones (1 Samuel 2:9a) Without this, under enemy fire we would be toast. Thank You, Lord Jesus. Genesis 1. God created the heavens and the earth, spoke light and darkness into existence. He formed the waters, the skies, the plants, the evening and morning, the sun and moon and stars. Next He called into existence the birds and sea monsters and fish, the creatures of the earth, and then mankind. After each of these acts, Genesis tells us, God saw that it was good. Finally, He looked at the whole spectrum of what He had created. It was very good. ⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞ ⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞ ⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞ ⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞ ⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞ ⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞ ⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞ ⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞ ⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞ ⁞⁞⁞⁞⁞ I have had a very difficult year. The Lord called me aside six months ago from what I was doing, to resolve an ongoing issue that has kept me stuck for a very long time. At least, that's what I thought He was calling me aside to do. In fact, nearly everything I've done over the past six months has failed. A number of times, I have reached the end of my rope, only to find that someone had tied more rope on, allowing me to slide down even further.
Yesterday morning, or perhaps it was Monday evening, I found myself in such a place again. Then I began thinking about creation. It occurred to me that the Jesus I've come to know would never be satisfied just to state that something was good or very good. He would also come down and take a look first hand. He would go to the edge of the river and investigate the otters' and beavers' newly built homes. He would walk across the sands and scurry up the sea cliffs. He would hold the miniature crabs and the tiny coloured stones in His hand. He would attend early morning birdsong choruses, to express His delight in person. He would lie down on the mossy forest floor and look up at a periwinkle blue shard of pre-dawn sky, and would call out "It is GOOD!" from a bottomless well of joy. It was this last thing I was picturing Him doing, in fact, when He suddenly shattered my melancholy with a revelation and then a question. It was before He even planned all this, my heart heard Him say, that He chose my name. Not the name I'm known by now, but the name He will call me by in eternity. Before He set creation in motion, He pictured the whole of my life -- the good and the bad, the wretchedness and the redemption. He knows what comes at the end of everything, and it will be worth it all. It was worth it, He even says, to have given Himself to be killed on a Roman cross, so that I might be His forever, to know every day of the rest of my life what it is to be perfectly, unrelentingly loved by the divine and all-glorious King. Then He asked me a question: "Are you in?" (What do you imagine I replied.) Of course this story is not just His and mine. It's also His and yours. He sees the whole of your life -- pain and happiness and emptiness and all -- and asks the same question. Are you in? Is He worth it, whatever "it" turns out to be? Only you can answer. Plentiful rain -- we've had a lot of this in Ontario lately! But don't worry, this isn't a weather report. :)
Some time ago -- perhaps three years back -- the Lord stopped me in my tracks with a verse (Psalm 68:6b): He leads out the prisoners into prosperity, Only the rebellious dwell in a parched land. "I can leave you here in the parched land. Your call," He said. All this time later, I can say He has been very busy. I have had to confront some painful things about myself these past few years. I've had to begin to relearn things. I've failed A LOT; I still fail a lot. Surrendering my heart to Jesus has been easy. He's magnificent. I adore Him. He is gradually revealing to me how much He adores me. I am clean and forgiven before Him, not because of my level of obedience, but because of what He did for me in taking my sin as His own and receiving my punishment. I will not be re-tried for what He has already been tried and punished for on my behalf. So, this struggle is not about making myself worthy. I might want to repeat that, because I still forget it sometimes: this struggle is not about making myself worthy. As easy as surrendering my heart to Him has been, the lessons about surrendering the moments of the day to Him have been excruciating. Failure, at least in one or two key areas, pretty much every day. For years. Primarily this has been a lack of discipline issue, but recently I've become aware that to some extent the Lord has also been either blocking me or allowing me to become blocked. I don't know why yet. Last night, having attempted for untold ages to accomplish a task that normally would be fairly intuitive for me, I finally got to the end of my rope. "I will have to quit," I said. "You've obviously taken away my gift." What followed was not a good night. I tried to sleep but couldn't, so I got up and distracted myself on the Internet. Eventually I was tired and numb enough to try again to get to sleep, but during the mindless hours in the interim, my rebellion gradually peaked. ("You gave me this task, then You took away my ability to complete it. What a mean trick.") At one point I actually physically felt His hurt in response to my anger. I am not proud to say that I did my best to ignore it. I got to sleep at around 3 a.m. Before I slept, I acknowledged to the Lord that of course my gifts were His to take away or give as He saw fit, and that He could do what He liked with anything I have, including my gifts. When I woke up, five and a half hours later, in an attempt to escape some exceedingly strange dreams, the first thing I heard was a very faint whisper: "I haven't taken away your gift." We made up the rift this morning. I told Him (among other things) that it was a very good thing my standing with Him was not based on me, but on Him. He asked me to go to Psalm 68. I had forgotten what was in Psalm 68, but I wasn't all that surprised to re-read that verse, reminding me that only the rebellious dwell in a parched land. Yes, I deserved to see that this morning. I kept reading and turned the page. And then I saw it. Interestingly, He must have blocked the link between the two verses when He gave me verse 6 originally. But today He took me intentionally to part two. Psalm 68, verse 8: You shed abroad a plentiful rain, O God; You confirmed Your inheritance when it was parched. He Himself is the plentiful rain. And when it was parched -- while I was in a parched land, still capable of rebellion against Him -- He confirmed His inheritance to me. I love You, Jesus. I love You, Jesus. I love You, Jesus. This weekend while I was walking around the grocery store, a number of thoughts began to weigh on my mind. How will... When will... Will I be able to... Should I...
Somewhere in the vicinity of the meat department, I acknowledged to the Lord that this was not a frame of mind that honoured Him. All of a sudden I heard myself begin to sing. Too softly for anyone but God to hear, but I wouldn't have minded if they had, because my burden began to fall away as my thoughts lifted to Jesus. This is the song I sang. It's performed here by a lovely young singer named Sarah Noëlle: (Again, there may be an ad before the video -- sorry.) YouTube video: "Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing" performed by Sarah Noëlle lyrics by Robert Robinson (1735-1790) tune "Nettleton" (likely by Asahel Nettleton [1783-1844], and/or John Wyeth [1770-1858]) _____________________________________________________ Lyrics There are a number of variations on the lyrics, but probably the best-known traditional version is here: Come, Thou Fount of every blessing, Tune my heart to sing Thy grace; Streams of mercy, never ceasing, Call for songs of loudest praise. Teach me some melodious sonnet, Sung by flaming tongues above. Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it, Mount of Thy redeeming love. Here I raise my Ebenezer: Hither by Thy help I've come; And I hope by Thy good pleasure, Safely to arrive at home. Jesus sought me when a stranger, Wandering from the fold of God; He, to rescue me from danger, Interposed His precious blood. Oh, to grace how great a debtor, Daily, I'm constrained to be! Let Thy goodness like a fetter, Bind my wandering heart to Thee. Prone to wander, Lord I feel it; Prone to leave the God I love; Here's my heart, O, take and seal it, Seal it for Thy courts above. The first verse in the hymnal my great-grandmother used goes like this (see below). I like this a lot, largely because "ransomed hosts above" is a picture that blesses me and that I can relate to more easily than that of flaming tongues. I also like the "boundless treasure" line, at the end of the verse: Come, Thou fount of every blessing, Tune my heart to sing Thy grace; Streams of mercy, never ceasing, Call for songs of loudest praise. Teach me some celestial measure, Sung by ransomed hosts above; O, the vast, the boundless treasure Of my Lord's redeeming love. This is one moment where I really wish my camera hadn't just died.
This past two months have been anything but restful -- essay-marking, the loss of a dear pet, exam-marking, "holidays" (I told my son the break was more a verb than a noun), illness, a birthday, a new course to teach, Internet problems, and much more. On top of this, I've been feeling for the past two weeks or so as though the Lord was very far away. In some ways I take this as a good sign: a) He trusts me with His silence, and b) I've begun to realize how little I know Him and how little I understand how to know Him, which is a perfect, perfect starting place. Last night He used something very unexpected to remind me what we are to each other. Today began sweetly, but much of the day spun away into fruitlessness. I was tempted to begin berating myself, but instead I came upstairs to see what might be salvaged of this evening. ...And then I saw it. It's still there, so I will try, in well under a thousand words, to convey to you what my camera would have told you: In the corner of the study window... a summer bouquet. On this bitterly icy January night, when courage is hard to find and my heart is full of the pain of the world.... a lace-wrapped nosegay of white ferns, daisies, lilies, and glads, all sparkling in the light of a nearby streetlamp. My dearest, most marvellous Love has hand-delivered flowers to me. He may have even thrown in a wee butterfly or two, to say "winter is short -- our summer will be forever." It will be indeed, Jesus. The Lord kills and makes alive;
He brings down to Sheol and raises up. 1 Samuel 2:6 from Hannah's prayer of thanksgiving I haven't written on this blog for the past month. I've been very busy, and so has the Lord. The fruit of His busyness in me this month and this year will eventually become visible. I thank Him for all that He does to bind me to His heart, however difficult much of it is. This week, one such difficult thing was a death. My 15-1/2-year-old cat, who has been on medication for some time, suddenly took a dramatic turn for the worse and died on Thursday night. She died at home. I was with her; my other cat, a year younger, was there as well. There were four of us present. My math is not wrong. To say I "saw" Jesus there would be an exaggeration. To say there was nothing unusual would also be untrue. He was there. The number 26 (2 x 13) has several times been a death date in my world. To remove any remaining superstition I had about 13's or 26's, a couple of years ago the Lord had me write these numbers on a piece of paper. Then, crazy as it sounds, He said to chew the paper and spit it out. What a graphic picture. This worked. The Lord doesn't play games, so I was sure my kitty would not die on the 26th, and she didn't. The next morning, Thursday, she seemed quite a bit better. She came into the kitchen at lunch time. The sound of me in the kitchen has always been to her like a dinner bell going off. "You're there. Food is there. It has something to do with me." In the early evening, I came downstairs to make dinner. There was no sign of her. The thought crossed my mind to check the basement where she had been nesting, alone, preparing herself. But I was having a productive, joyful day; if she had died, I didn't want to know just yet. I went upstairs to continue working. An hour and a half later, I went back downstairs, intending to make tea. Still no sign of her. Now I knew something was wrong. I tested this out by getting some tuna from the fridge. Kitchen + mummy + tuna = "how fast can I run?" Still no kitty. My heart sank. I hurried down to the basement.... At first when I saw her, I thought she had died. She hadn't, but the process had begun. I carried her upstairs and held her in "our" chair for quite a long time. I sang to her. She draped her arms over me and clung softly, but facing away from me. After something like twenty minutes, she suddenly began to climb down. She had all but lost the use of her hind legs over the past several hours, so I helped her. I made her a bed on the floor out of a pillow, some towels, some sheets, and a blanket. She immediately became very focused. This was always her way. I lay near her on the floor. Sometimes I stroked her gently. A few times I cried. I also prayed. I asked Jesus to take her gently, and not to let it take a long time. I asked Him to be with her as she died. He answered every word. I strongly sensed His presence, but as a physician attending a dying patient. It was my kitty He was there to assist. I was the onlooker. I've seen pets die before, but I have never seen one die as relatively gently as she did. At the end, there was no great drama. Her breathing just quietly stopped. From the time I had placed her on the floor, it had taken an hour. What I saw that night, if "saw" is the word, was something deeper than I know how to express. It was compassion. It was perfect timing. It was holiness, for death is always an incredibly holy thing. It was the Lord's love not only for me, but for a kitty He had chosen to be my spirited, curious, opinionated, wonderful friend for all those years. The Lord of life came on Thursday to help my friend leave the world He Himself had brought her into. For He commands both life and death. His might is seen not only in displays of great force, but in gentle acts of mercy, in perfect control of the tiniest details, and in the honouring of quiet faith. ("Sustainer of the weary," part two)
_____________________________________________ The Lord God has given Me the tongue of disciples, That I may know how to sustain the weary one with a word. He awakens Me morning by morning, He awakens My ear to listen as a disciple. The Lord God has opened My ear; And I was not disobedient Nor did I turn back. Isaiah 50:4-5 This Messianic passage, which the Lord pointed out to me several days ago, has sparked an epiphany. This is the Christian life. Yes, I know -- I've described several things that way before. There are indeed a number of wonderful pictures of the Christian life in scripture, in nature, in daily experiences, in relationships... Yet this literally is the Christian life, because Jesus is telling us here what His earthly relationship with the Father looked like. In telling us what His own spiritual life looked like, He is revealing the life He calls us to live, in and through Him. The part of the above passage that I find particularly "epiphanic" (nobody really uses that word, but it fits) are these lines from verse 4 He awakens Me morning by morning, He awakens My ear to listen as a disciple. There are two aspects that strike me. First, echoing what Hudson Taylor said, Jesus is the initiator of our communion. HE awakens me. HE leans in to greet me. If I can't always perceive this nudge, I can ask Him to begin heightening my awareness; or, I can simply accept His nudge as fact, and respond as though I did perceive it. The second aspect is at least as astonishing. He Himself trains me, if I am willing. One-on-one discipleship training can't begin in earnest until He truly has my attention. Heaven knows what course of preparation He may take me through to get me to the point where He truly has my attention. Seeing that Jesus' walk with the Father, and ours with Jesus, is a response changes everything. Picture it as a waltz. In a waltz, the leader leads and the follower follows. The follower actually follows by gracefully stepping back, out of the way of the leader's carefully placed strides. It's only when the two partners move together as a seamless unit, in confident synchronization, that the dance becomes beautiful. He initiates. Will we respond? And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him.
Hebrews 11:6 It's interesting to read in Hebrews 11:6 that believing He is a rewarder of those who seek Him is actually a vital part of what demonstrates faith to Him. I had never noticed this before. I have no trouble anymore believing that He is. I did for a while, but He met me there; I have a great "Thomas" story. Now He's meeting me in part two -- believing that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him. For some reason, it's been at least as hard as part one. Maybe it's because of low self-esteem? If so, it may mean I subconsciously equate reward with performance, even in spiritual things. Why does He care so much that I know He is my rewarder that He counts it as a key component of what faith looks like? Wow, the answer to that question will reveal a lot. It's NOT that He is a rewarder of my performance. He is a rewarder of my seeking Him. He is the Lover watching intently for the footsteps of His beloved; when He catches a glimpse of her rushing towards Him, He is overcome with joy. "Part one" of faith as described in Hebrews 11:6 is the introduction part, where we say "yes" and begin to find out more about this wonderful Person who has called us. "Part two" is the binding together part, where we get to know the heart of the wonderful Person Himself, letting Him gradually unveil to us how very deeply He loves us. This is the reward! He is the Reward, and the Rewarder. Hooray! Part two will take all of eternity. Today is a very, very good day to start. There's a special scene near the end of Oswald Chambers' biography where Oswald consoles a bereaved friend by telling her, "It's all right, you can't understand God's ways but get down into His love. ...Be radiant for Him." Fast-forward about a century to Tuesday evening, when I watched the last 15-20 minutes of "Rejection Must Fall," the third instalment in Louie Giglio's "Goliath Must Fall" series. I began it Sunday night but had to leave before I'd finished. Oh, the timing of the Lord. Much of what He needed to say to me that day was contained in those last 15-20 minutes. Louie spoke about the depth of God's love for us. We can't actually comprehend how deep His love is for us is, which surely explains why we spend so much time seeking fulfilment and recognition elsewhere. I went to my room to speak with the Lord right after watching the video. I had a lot on my mind, but the echo effect of the message I'd just heard was that all I wanted to talk about was how thankful I am for His love, for Him -- and thankful that He gives me the great honor of loving Him in return. He sealed our time together with 1 Kings 5:4, where Solomon says
The thought occurs to me: What would happen if I virtually bathed in the knowledge of His great love for me? ...If I paused every little while during the day just long enough to say, "THANK YOU, beautiful King and Savior, for loving me so much that You gave up everything to seek me as Your own." ...If, instead of being thrown off course by struggles and shortfalls and regrets, I turned my anxious obsessions into moments of openly spoken obsession with my God and His love for me. ...If, instead of diving into distraction and worry, I dived into every picture I could find in scripture of His glory, His grace, His might, and His loveliness, and spoke it all back to Him with praise. Perfect love casts out all fear, and God has shown His perfect love in that while I was yet a sinner, Christ died for me. Doesn't it follow logically that I should try the above experiment, to rise up above myself and above my own fear -- to be radiant for Him? This sounds like a plan. Feel free to join me. |
Every truth of
Scripture leads to Christ. Charles Price .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..
About me "Hephzibah" (Isaiah 62) A yet unfinished story of the Lord's perfect restoration work I live in southwestern Ontario, Canada. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ||| ||| ||| ||| ||| ||| ||| ||| |||
2 Chronicles 7:16 בָּחַר קָדַשׁ ||| ||| ||| ||| ||| ||| ||| ||| ||| [T]o our
wounds only God’s wounds can speak. from “Jesus of the Scars” by Edward Shillito (1872-1948) Blog archives
August 2022
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...The eyes of the
Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to show Himself strong on behalf of those whose heart is perfect toward Him. 2 Chronicles 16:9a (KJ21) |