The Gift of Thorns

"It seems that His servants who are used in special ways 

often experience commensurate trials. These trials 

are simultaneously burdens God gives 

to keep them utterly dependent; 

and thorns which pin back the veil that hides His face. 

In a fallen world, they are gifts." 

—Sono Harris (emphasis mine)

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.”

Unbelievable Grace (In Every Season: Part 1 of 2)

I do a year-in-review note for myself and my friends every year, but this year called for something a little different. I knew I needed to summarize 2009 somehow. To tell the faithfulness of my amazing God, especially this year, but didn't know quite how to do it.

Well, after reading a blog post by a friend this fall, I got to thinking about seasons. I noticed how closely life can resemble nature's seasons and was compelled to start writing about my year along those lines. So, while it's different in style than usual and a little longer, here is my year-in-review story, Part I:

I'll begin where the calendar did, with winter. My least favourite season. The earth around is dead and lifeless, lacking the vibrant colour and fruitfulness of the other seasons. Sure, I enjoy snowball fights and playing in the snow with the kids, wool coats and tall boots, hot tea and Christmas, but the best part of winter is knowing spring will follow.

Last winter was hard. I spent a lot of time in doctor's offices, filling out a lot of paperwork, and dealing with the big mess of a workplace injury that left me without a job and, at least for a season, without many of the physical capabilities that I usually took for granted.

I had so many of questions for God. I knew He wasn't obligated to give me reasons, to tell me why and what He was doing. I knew better than to question whether He was in control or whether He had good plans in mind. But still. It was five months of, often intense, rhetorical questioning: WHY?! Months of fighting bitterness as continued work made things worse. Fighting for faith when I couldn't see an end to the pain.

Growing up, I've been kind of proud of being the strong one, the healthy one. The one that rarely gets down sick and never had to see a doctor. I may not have many special skills, but I could manage nearly any manual labour anyone gave me to do, and employers were certainly no exception. Suddenly that all changed. Now I not only was useless to my employer, but to my family, and, to some degree, myself. I just plain needed help and I very much resented that. God, surely I'm more useful when healthy and strong? I'm sure I could serve You a lot better if this would just go away!

(Or, maybe not. Maybe He could better use someone not so self-sufficient?)

It was a season of silence. Cold silence. But, not unlike the intensity of winter's sunbeams, the support of true friends was priceless and renewed my hope that spring would come and bring life to my world. Winter couldn't last forever.

(Continue to Part II!)

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

I Wait

So I haven't posted many of my own thoughts here lately... but the quotes, lyrics and verses I have been sharing is always some glimpse of what's on my heart. Sometimes there just isn't anything to say that someone else hasn't already captured with much more clarity and wisdom than I can. One preacher put it like this, "I never have an original thought; I'm just a walking quote." 

I am working on a few things literary, but I'm not sure when/if they will be finished or if they will be posted. But, read on. Elisabeth Elliot's writing has been such an encouragement to me over the years, and I trust you will be blessed by it as well!

I wait.

Dear Lord, Thy ways

Are past finding out,

Thy love too high.

O hold me still

Beneath Thy shadow.

It is enough that Thou

Lift up the light

Of Thy countenance.

I wait—

Because I am commanded

So to do. My mind

Is filled with wonderings.

My soul asks, "Why?"

But then the quiet word,

"Wait thou only

Upon God."

And so, not even for the light

But for Thee, dear Lord,

I wait.

—Passion & Purity, p. 72
(c) 1984, 2002 by Elisabeth Elliot

I want to let you know Me more...

I feel Your hand pulling me away
I hear Your voice whispering the way
"Leave the noise of all that's vain
Meet with Me on higher plain
I want to talk with you
I want to let you know Me more
I want to show to you
More power than before
Yes, the journey may be long
And you'll feel you can't go on
But you'll find there, on the plain
I'll make you strong"

I walk alone across the rugged plain
And there You stand, You're calling out my name
Your glory is all around
I know I've reached that higher ground
And there You talked with me
And You let me know You more
And there You showed to me
More power than before
Yes, the journey had been long
And when I felt I'd not go on
I found that there on the plain
You made me strong

Yes, your journey may be long
And you'll feel you can't go on
But you'll find on that higher plain
He'll make you strong

-John Marshall Family, 2005

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

An Expected End

"I held something so precious in my hands. Many times I would offer it up on the altar for God, only to snatch it back soon afterwards. ...He gazed into my eyes and looked into the depths of my heart. 'My daughter, please give this to Me entirely. I want to give you that which is far above what you would expect. It may not happen how you want it to happen and it may not be that which you thought it would be, but I promise, My child, to give you nothing but My best for your life, so that you may in return glorify Me more fully. I am God alone. I can and will do that which is exceedingly, abundantly above all you could ever ask or think. This may cost you pain, but are you willing to endure even extreme pain for My sake and for My glory?" With tear stained eyes, I finally released and surrendered what I thought was so wonderful; and I got ALL of HIM in exchange."—Leah Cross

My dear friend posted that the other day, and it really struck a chord with me. Our lives seem to be strikingly parallel recently, and I am so encouraged by her sweet responses to what the Lord is bringing her through! I am so thankful for her support and inspiration as we walk this journey together. And yet, we never are alone. For even when our paths diverge... Jesus walks them both.

"For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD,
thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.
And ye shall seek me, and find me,
when ye shall search for me with all your heart."
Jeremiah 29:11,13

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.

The Blessing of Correction

"Happy is the man whom God correcteth." (Job 5:17)

I read the following quote on a friend's blog a little while ago. It really encouraged me, and I hope you, too, will find a blessing in it!

Happy, because the correction is designed to bring him into paths of blessedness and peace.
Happy, because there is no unnecessary severity in it.
Happy, because the chastisement is not so much against us, as against our most cruel enemies—our sins.
Happy, because we have abundant words of consolation.
Happy, because whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth.
Happy, because our light affliction is but for a moment.

—George Bowen

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

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.