Just As He Promised

Spring is arriving in my part of the world.

And with it, the promise of life. With a glorious burst of colour, the earth displays a beauty and vibrance that winter has done her shivering best to make us forget. Almost, she succeeds. Almost, we despair of spring's arrival.

Then she comes. At last. We feel her warm smile in the sunshine. Her loveliness is accented by the colourful clothing she wears.

She brings hope.

Sunshine is here. Better days are coming.

But, let us not alienate poor winter completely. She prepares for spring's arrival in a way summer never could. As strange as it seems, these colourful flowers need to experience winter's harsh, cold temperament in order to reach their potential. The richness of their beauty would not be possible without winter. She holds the seeds until spring arrives, and during her watch, they die.

But that's not the end of the story.

Seems like it is, doesn't it? Death seems pretty final. Those seeds are dead. But, in the mystery of His plan, the Father leaves those seeds for a while, dead. Until there seems to be no hope of beauty, of resurrection.

Then He brings them to life. Miraculous life. Kinda like He did with His Son on that Resurrection morning all those years ago.

Three days dead. Sealed in the tomb. Bound. Where was the hope for His disciples? Their Master, their Messiah, their Deliverer, their Friend... dead.

But wait.

There He was. He was alive!

Just as He promised.

"Why do you seek the living among the dead?
He is not here, but has risen.
Remember how He told you,
while He was still in Galilee,
that the Son of Man must be
delivered into the hands of sinful men
and be crucified
and on the third day rise."
—Luke 24:5b-7

Jesus Christ died so that we can live. The cross was my just punishment for my sin and self-worship, but He carried the full weight of it for me. As I gratefully accept His payment, like a spring flood He washes my wrongs off the record. I am clean and new. I have life!

Before the throne of God above
I have a strong and perfect plea
A great High Priest whose name is love
Who ever lives and pleads for me

Because the sinless Savior died
My sinful soul is counted free
For God, the Just, is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me

But as He lives, I also share in His death. As I walk in His steps, seeking to become more like Him, He will ask countless "little" deaths of me. Yet as we walk on together, it becomes clearer that in that death, there is abundant life.

Just as He promised.

Behold Him there, the risen Lamb
My perfect, spotless righteousness
The great unchangeable I AM
The King of Glory and of Grace
One with Himself I cannot die
My soul is purchased by His blood
My life is hid with Christ on high
With Christ my Savior and my God

Happy Resurrection Sunday to you all!

Unmarked quotations taken from the Hymn, "Before The Throne of God Above" by Charitie Bancroft, Public Domain

Unfailing Love (In Every Season: Part 2 of 2)

(Missed Part I? Read it here!)

Sure enough, spring came in its own sweet time. With it began the slow, steady process of physical healing. My sister's beautiful wedding. The gift of plane tickets to visit a dear friend. Children's ministry opportunities. Hope was planted. I had no job, no idea where life was heading, but I was content. I was happy enjoying spring and daydreaming of summer, hoping it wasn't far away. But God loved me, had always provided and He knew what He was doing, so why should I worry?

When summer arrived, it seemed like hope's tiny rosebuds burst into full bloom with colour more glorious than I had ever before seen. Where did all this beauty come from and why had God chosen me to receive this enormous bouquet?

I savoured it. It was the most amazing gift I had ever been given. I clung to it with both hands, not daring to let it go. I didn't deserve it... not at all. But it was unequalled in beauty and I felt so cherished. I loved it.

Autumn appeared, and as the weather got cooler, the wind picked up, and the petals began to fall from my beautiful roses until all that remained was the seeds at the centre. I was left tightly grasping nearly bare stems, shielding the seeds from the elements, lest they too escape me.

I questioned. Yes. I was confused. Why would my Lover give me such a gift... only to tantalize me as I watch it be ripped apart and its beautiful petals scattered by the wind only a short while afterwards? I felt betrayed, like He was less than honest with me when He gave it. If I had only known it was so fragile, I would have... would have... what? Refused it? Enjoyed it less?

No. It was a beautiful gift. The brevity of its lifespan could subtract nothing from its beauty. It gave me a glimpse of just how much He loves me, and now I refocus my attention on my Lover Himself. He really was so immensely kind in giving such an exquisite gift. And, though I have little left of the gift, I know, without doubt, the depth of His love. He stayed close by, observing my fascination with His gift. He was always ready when I wanted to talk with Him, when I needed advice or a listening ear, whenever I needed His help. Even when I was too busy, enraptured by His gift, He pursued me and sought me out, and never let me wander too far.

But. I have little hope seeds left on these bare stems. They're all I have left of the roses, and I'm holding them tightly. He asks that I give them back to Him. I wince. Jesus, you know how I'm sentimental that way. Can't I keep them in memory of it?

His hand tenderly rests on my arm. You know I love you. So trust Me with those seeds.

I glance at the Hands holding me. Strong, steady, gentle Hands that have never been unkind to me. My gaze travels to His face, to His eyes so full of love and tenderness, and, as I slowly hand him the leftovers of my bouquet, he takes the remains and prepares the seeds for planting.

He smiles. It'll take time and the cold of winter. There, buried in the dark ground, they'll die. But, leave them alone, and, in the spring, they will grow. In time, you'll have many more roses than just a bouquet, and you and anyone that passes by can enjoy their beauty.

How kind He is. How wise. How very, very good to me. And to think that, in my shortsightedness, I can consider forfeiting all this just to hold on to some dead stems?

I'll leave you with this quote from Charles Spurgeon:

“Remember this: 
had any other condition been better for you 
than the one in which you are, 
Divine love would have put you there.”

In God's Hands

"...I am not ashamed, for I know Whom I have believed, 

and I am convinced that He is able to guard until that Day 

what [I have entrusted to Him]."

(II Timothy 1:12)

You say let it go;

You say life is waiting...

You say You will be everything I need;

You say let it go.

What do I love? What do I hate?

What will I lose? What will I gain? ...

What if I bend? What if I break?

What will it cost? What will it take

For You to save my soul?

You say let it go.

—Tenth Avenue North

"I have held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all;

but whatever I have placed in God's hands, that I still possess."

—Martin Luther

Just Not Tonight

"I'll get you out of this place. It just can't be tonight."



"You're just going to leave me here?!"


"I promise I won't leave you here any longer than I have to."

—Belinda to her little brother Jacob, who were orphaned and split up in different homes. Jacob was in a cruel home, but they needed to stay put so they could be found by their father later on (From Love's Unending Legacy)


That made me think of the conversations we sometimes have with God. He's always right there, able to take me out of a tough situation or season, but, in order to fulfill a higher purpose, often chooses not to. Instead, He stays close by, watching out for me and "feeding" me day by day right where I am. Even though it hurts Him to see His child hurting, to hear the cry, "You're just going to leave me here?!"He knows I have to stay right here for a while.

Because this will bring a more glorious result, a much bigger deliverance than simply an escape from pain. He will instead give unlimited grace. Unexplainable joy. Inexhaustible strength. Unspeakable glory.

"Therefore the LORD will wait, that He may be gracious to you;
And therefore He will be exalted, that He may have mercy on you.
For the LORD is a God of justice; 
Blessed are all those who wait for Him.
For the people shall dwell in Zion at Jerusalem; 
You shall weep no more.
He will be very gracious to you at the sound of your cry;
When He hears it, He will answer you."
(Isaiah 30:18-19 NKJV)

So tell me, what is our ending? [It will] be beautiful, so beautiful...
(BarlowGirl, "Beautiful Ending," 2009)

Why I Trust You Anyway

"No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, 

but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, 

fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised."

—Romans 4:20-21

"As believers, we cannot always know why,
but we can always know why we trust God, who knows why.
A Christian does not say,
'I do not understand You at all, but I trust You anyway.'
Rather, he says,
'I do not understand You in this situation,
but I understand why I trust You anyway.'"

—Audio series: Suffering & Sovereignty, by C.J. Mahaney

Most Richly Blessed...

I asked God for strength, that I might achieve.
I was made weak, that I might sit still.

I asked for health, that I might do great things.
I was given infirmity, that I might strengthen others.

I asked for riches, that I might be happy.
I was given poverty, that I might learn contentment.

I asked for light, that I might see the way ahead.
I was given darkness, that I might learn to trust.

I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men.
I was humbled, that I might feel the need of God.

I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life.
I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.

I got nothing that I asked for — but everything I hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.

I am, among all people, most richly blessed.

—Anonymous

That Which Concerns Me

Father, it hasn't been an easy road to walk lately. The road is awfully winding. I'm confused. It's a dead end in front of me, and it seems such a long way to have to back-track. The path back is all uphill, and, to top it all off, it's pouring rain. More clouds are rolling in so that I can hardly see where I'm going. There is no way I can make it without slipping again! I really can't see any way out... How can this be Your way? How can this be Your mercy?

That sounds embarrassingly like the cry of my heart much of the past few months... as I learn a little more of what it means to be helpless, humiliated, hurting.

But not hopeless.

Tempted so, yes; more than once. But I have watched in wonder and thankfulness as the Lord delivers a Hand-picked passage or verse in my quiet time just when it's most needed. A word, note or prayer from a friend. Encouragement and help from my family. Faithful sunbeams when the clouds are darkest.

In my devotions this morning, I was reading in the Psalms, again seeing God's power in ways He has led and rescued His people in the past, how "His mercy endureth forever," how He does not forsake His own. And as I read on, my eyes fell upon the summation of all of it: "The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me."1

Isn't that the best reassurance I can have? The Creator of heaven and earth (of ME), Who is also the Redeemer of that creation, has a plan to enact through every thing in my life, both good and "bad." And not only that, but has promised to make it a perfect plan, that He will carry out!

“God sometimes allows people to treat us unjustly. Sometimes He even allows their actions to seriously affect our careers, or our futures viewed on a human plain. But God never allows people to make decision about us that undermine His plan for us. Never. Why do we struggle then with disappointment and resentment when someone else’s decision or action adversely affects us? Is it not because it is our plans that have been dashed or our pride that has been hurt? Trust His sovereignty, trust His wisdom, trust His love.”
—Jerry Bridges

Trust. Yes, that is what I must do. Trust Him for the daily strength He has promised... and wait.

1:Psalm 138:8

On Letting Go

Elisabeth Elliot wrote in a book of hers, "When the will of God crosses the will of man, one of them must die." Is it our way that is wiser, higher, kinder than our Creator's? It never can be so.
So many times I think something would bring me joy and delight, and yet, the Lord very firmly closes that door. I don't pretend to know the reasons, or understand His ways, but I do know that whatever the Lord does is right... and can only be in faithfulness, in goodness, in kindness.

Reading this week, I came across this short poem. There's so much meaning packed into that simple line: "You never did let go."

As children bring their broken toys,
With tears, for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God
Because He is my Friend.
But then, instead of leaving Him
In peace, to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help
With ways that were my own.
At last, I snatched them back and cried,
"How can You be so slow?"
"My child," He said, "What could I do?
You never did let go."

—Author Unknown

His Way is Perfect

When my way seems dark and drear, and the future I don't know
My heart feels so empty as the tears unending flow
When my heart breaks with sorrow and a tempest fills my soul
This one thing I know for sure: My God is in control.

His way is perfect; His way is perfect
Though I don't understand His wise and loving plan
His way is perfect; His way is perfect
Take my life and make a vessel purified
God makes no mistakes— His way is best.

When the toils of life are come and my heart is worn with care,
I faint 'neath the burden of a cross I cannot bear.
When the joy has departed from my sorrow-stricken soul,
This one thing I know for sure: my God is in control.

His way is perfect; His way is perfect
Though I don't understand His wise and loving plan
His way is perfect; His way is perfect
Take my life and make a vessel purified
God makes no mistakes— His way is best.

—Betsy Kistler

Emptied that HE should fill me...

Just a song the Lord has been reminding me about. To have real joy and be used by Him, surrender is not simply an option.

Emptied that Thou shouldest fill me,
A clean vessel in Thy hand;
With no power but as Thou givest
Graciously with each command.

Jesus, fill now with Thy Spirit
Hearts that full surrender know;
That the streams of living water
From our inner man may flow.

Channels only, blessèd Master,
But with all Thy wondrous power
Flowing through us, Thou canst use us
Every day and every hour.

—Mary E. Max­well, alt.

What the Almighty Can Do

Just one of the songs that have been on my heart lately – so good, and so helpful at putting my focus back into perspective!

Praise to the Lord, who o'er all things so wondrously reigneth,
Shelters thee under His wings, yea, so gently sustaineth!
Hast thou not seen how thy desires e'er have been
Granted in what He ordaineth?

Praise to the Lord, who hath fearfully, wondrously, made thee;
Given thee life, and, with loving hand, guided and stayed thee;
How oft in grief hath He not brought thee relief?
Wings of His mercy did shade thee.

Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy work and defend thee;
Surely His goodness and mercy here daily attend thee;
Ponder anew what the Almighty can do,
When, in His love, He befriends thee.

Praise to the Lord, who, when tempests their warfare are waging,
Who, when the elements madly around thee are raging,
Biddeth them cease, turneth their fury to peace,
Whirlwinds and waters assuaging.

Praise to the Lord, O let all that is in me adore Him!
All that hath life and breath, come now with praises before Him;
Let the Amen sound from His people again,
Gladly for aye we adore Him.

—Joachim Neander; translation by Catherine Winkworth

Wherever you are in your life right now, take heart and press on... for He is GOOD, and His way is perfect.

The Sacrifice

When I saw this on a friend's blog, I knew it was far too good not to pass on. It struck a chord in my heart, and I hope it may inspire someone else as well.

Laid on Thine alter, O my Lord divine,
Accept my gift this day, for Jesus' sake,
I have no jewels to adorn Thy shrine,
Nor any world-famed sacrifice to make;
But here I bring within my trembling hands,
This will of mine, a thing that seemeth small,
Yet Thou alone, O Lord, canst understand
How when I yield Thee this, I yield my all.

Hidden therein Thy searching gaze can see
Struggles of passion, visions of delight,
All that I have, or am, or fain would be,
Deep loves, fond hopes, and longings infinite;
It hath been wet with tears, and dimmed with sighs,
Clenched in my grasp, till beauty hath it none;
Now from Thy footstool, where it vanquished lies,
The prayer ascendeth, "May Thy will be done."

Take it, O Father, ere my courage fail,
And merge it so into Thine own will, that e'en
If in some desperate hour my cries prevail,
And Thou give back my gift, it may have been
So changed, so purified, so fair have grown,
So one with Thee, so filled with love divine,
I may not know or feel it as by own,
But gaining back my will, may find it Thine.

—My Sacrifice, C. T. Russell

Springs in the Wildernsss

I was listening to a message online titled Surviving the Desert, by Nancy Leigh DeMoss (a Christian speaker for women) of Revive Our Hearts Radio. A friend directed me to the message, and, since it was less than 25 minutes long, I listened to it right away!

I've appreciated what I've heard/read by Nancy Leigh DeMoss, and this message was no exception. In it, she offers Biblical advice so you can not only survive the desert experiences, but actually thrive in them!

If you have a few minutes, I'd recommend you listen to it yourself, even if you don't feel you are going through a "desert time" in your life. If you don't have the time now, perhaps bookmark it and listen to/read it a little later!

When the poor and needy seek water,
and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst,
I the LORD will hear them,
I the God of Israel will not forsake them.

I will open rivers in high places,
and fountains in the midst of the valleys:
I will make the wilderness a pool of water,
and the dry land springs of water.

That they may see, and know,
and consider, and understand together,
that the hand of the LORD hath done this,
and the Holy One of Israel hath created it.

(Isaiah 41:17-18, 20)

The Master Weaver's Plan

My life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me
I may not choose the colours –
He knows what they should be
For He can view the pattern
Upon the upper side
While I can see it only
From this, the underside.

Sometimes He weaveth sorrow,
Which seemeth strange to me;
But I will trust His judgement,
And work on faithfully;
'Tis He who fills the shuttle,
And He knows what is best,
So I shall weave in earnest,
Leaving to Him the rest.

Not 'til the loom is silent,
And the shuttles cease to fly
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why;
The dark threads are as needed,
In the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.

—Author Unknown

This Is What It Means...

Something that's been on my heart lately...

Letting go of cherished dreams,
Laying my will at the cross,
Giving every hope to God,
Clinging tighter through each loss;
This is what it means to die;
This is what it means to give
Heart, and soul, and mind to Him,
Fully yielded life to live.

All I lived for, all I loved,
All my passions, goals, and plans,
Each ambition, wish, desire,
I must leave within His hands.
This is what it means to die;
This is what it means to trust
Life and future to my Lord;
All I know is that I must.

Giving up my stubborn will,
Losing it within His own
Rooting up so painfully
All the hopes and dreams I'd sown;
This is what it means to die;
This is what it takes to grow;
Though He slay me, I will praise—
I can trust His heart, I know.

Trusting Him for every day,
Following where'er He leads,
Loving Him with heart and soul,
Knowing He'll meet every need;
This is what it means to live;
This is what it means to rest
Confident His faithful hand
Only giveth what is best.

"And Jesus answered them, saying, The hour is come, that the Son of man should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal." (John 12:23-25)

Dreams Must Die

I know what I want, O Lord, my God,
And it is right, and pure, and good;
And yet, I feel a tug within
To give it up; obey I would.

The struggle is, thus far, intense—
Why must I give up my dreams?
I want Your will, Your way, Your time;
This is Your way? So strange, it seems!

Why must that I treasure most
Thus be given, dreams must die?
Why must cherished hopes be broken,
Dashed, and crushed; why, Lord, why?

Dreams must die; like grains of corn
Must be buried, fruit to bear,
Even so, my will must die;
My life I give—I'm in Your care.

When Your plan at last is shown
More beautiful, I know, 'twill be
Than all the castles, bright and fair,
I build upon this sand I see.

And so, 'til then, I walk by faith,
Trusting wholly in Your way,
Leaning ever on Your arm,
Finding strength for each new day.

Disappointment - His Appointment

Disappointment—His appointment;
Change one letter, then I see
That the thwarting of my purpose
Is God's better choice for me.
His appointment must be blessing
Though it may come in disguise;
For the end, from the beginning,
Open to His vision lies.

Disappointment—His appointment.
Whose? The Lord who loves me best,
Understands and knows me fully,
Who my faith and love would test.
For like loving earthly parents
He rejoices when He knows
That His child accepts unquestioned
All that from His wisdom flows.

Disappointment—His appointment;
No good things will He withhold.
From denials oft we gather
Treasures of His love untold.
Well He knows each broken purpose
Leads to a fuller, deeper trust,
And the end of all His dealings
Proves our God is wise and just.

Disappointment—His appointment;
Lord, I take it then as such,
Like clay in the hands of the Potter
Yielding wholly to His touch.
My life's plan is all His moulding;
Not one single choice be mine.
Let me answer unrepining,
“Father, not my will, but Thine.”

—Author Unknown

I Will Tell My Griefs to Him

All my griefs by Him are ordered
Needful is each one for me,
Every tear by Him is counted,
One too much there cannot be;
And if when they fall so thickly
I can own His way is right,
Then each bitter tear of anguish
Precious is in Jesus' sight.

For too well my Saviour loved me
To allow my life to be
One long, calm, unbroken summer,
One unruffled, stormless sea;
He would have me fondly nestling
Closer to His loving breast,
He would have that world seem brighter
Where alone is perfect rest.

Though His wise and loving purpose,
I cannot yet clearly see,
I believe with faith unshaken,
All will work for good to me;
Therefore when my way is gloomy,
And my eyes with tears are dim,
I will go to God my Father,
I will tell my griefs to Him!

—Author Unknown

Thou Hast Made It , and Thou Dost Know

I'm not sure where this story originated, but the point is excellent.

"I need oil," said a man, so he planted an olive sapling. "Lord," he prayed, "it needs rain that its tender roots may drink and swell. Send gentle showers." And the Lord sent gentle showers. "Lord," prayed the man, "my tree needs sun. Send sun, I pray thee." And the sun shone, gilding the dripping clouds. "Now frost, my Lord, to brace its tissues," cried the man. And behold, the little tree stood sparkling with frost, but at evening it died.

Then the man sought the abode of a brother, and told his strange experience. "I, too, planted a little tree," the brother said, "and see! It thrives well. But I entrust my tree to its God. He who made it knows better what it needs than a man like me. I laid no condition. I fixed not way or means. 'Lord, send what it needs,' I prayed, 'storm or sunshine, wind, rain, or frost. Thou hast made it Thou dost know.'"