Several days ago I dove into the book of Hosea and I can't seem to stop swimming in it. I'm pretty confident that it will remain my favorite book throughout my lifetime. It has become so deeply personal that it's impossible for me to read it without entering and feeling the story.
One of the things I've been noticing is the range of emotions God expresses over Israel. He goes from anger, rejection, punishment, and destruction to compassion, pursuit, longing, tenderness, and forgiveness. The more I observe these things, the more I'm stunned by how passionate His love is. He is all about the relationship. A perfect, pure, faithful, covenantal, single-focused relationship. Anything that threatens that arouses His anger. He fights for the purity of His bride. But anger is not who He is - rather the anger comes out of His love. It's because He loves so intensely that He reacts to 'waywardness' with such hatred.
The imagery used to describe these things is incredible and it's what has motivated me to write about it. Hosea 11:10 says, "He will roar like a lion. When He roars His children will come trembling from the west." Have you ever seen a lion roar? I mean, you've atleast seen the MGM trademark (although that's pretty tame for what I'm picturing). What I picture is a huge, strong lion with a full mane resting peacefully while people move around near him. Then suddenly the lion is threatened and he leaps up and lets out a long, ear-shattering roar. The roar stops everyone in their tracks. All but the roaring lion are totally frozen. And then the people begin to shake - they tremble at the sudden awareness of who is in their midst. Then fear fills them. What is going to happen? Will we be destroyed? Where did he come from? What is not realized is that this angry roar is rooted in a deeply perfect love - directed at the very ones who are trembling. This lion is doing what it takes to get their attention and invite them into his loving protection. Some ears hear the love within the roar and come trembling to him, others never do ...
In chapel today we sang 'Hosanna' by Hillsong. With this image in my head, these lyrics felt especially powerful ...
"I see the King of glory
Coming on the clouds with fire
The whole earth shakes, the whole earth shakes
I see His love and mercy
Washing over all our sin
The people sing, The people sing"
And how appropriate is this response ...
"Heal my heart and make it clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like You have loved me"
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
lost
I read something this morning that described 'lost' as a thing that is not where it was meant to be. I think the opposite of this must also be true; meaning that this 'thing' is both missing from where it was purposed to belong and present where it was not.
This has got me thinking ... I was one of those "Linus" kids - dragged my blanket around everywhere I went. Not just any blanket, but that very special one that was loved so much it felt like it was alive. I hope that's normal?? Anyway, I actually had two of these blankets, because the first one was lost. I remember where we were when we noticed it was missing. I remember my parents helping me look everywhere. I remember crying a lot. We never did find it. In fact, after giving up, I remember my mom taking out another blanket and explaining to me how special this new one was. Eventually my heart was able to make the transfer and all was well again.
What I read this morning along with that flashback to my childhood has helped me understand the idea of being 'lost' in a new way. I've referred to those who are not 'believers' as 'the lost' many times. But it's never really registered for me what they are lost from; at least not to the degree that it hit this morning. To be lost means you are not where you were intended to be. So, applying that to people, the 'lost' are not where God intended them to be. Which means, man was created - every single one of us- with the intention of being where we belong. And we were intended to be worshipers of God, belonging to Him. Now I know I was just a kid and it was just a blanket, but let me tell you - I grieved the loss of that thing! As ridiculous as this sounds, it felt like a piece of me was missing. That blanket and I 'belonged' to each other. That might not be the best example, but recalling my emotion made me consider what God must feel when it comes to what He has lost. Think of all the people alive right now and all those who have died who are/were lost. That's a lot of blankets. Does God grieve deeply over every last one of them? I think He must, because Jesus shared a lot of parables that had to do with searching for something that was lost. And He also included the emotion felt by the one who found the treasured belonging.
I've lived with an awareness that I belong to God; that I'm redeemed, adopted, and His dearly loved child. But it's never really crossed my mind before that this is what I was intended to be. It wasn't just out of His compassion and grace that He hunted me down; He hunts because we were meant to be His. Because we are His lost treasure. It's why living in the world and all that it offers never satisfies - because He made us to only be satisfied in Him. This means I was created with intentionality and purpose. But I was born lost, knowing neither intention nor purpose, consumed in the darkness of my own sin. It's why when He makes us His own, when He restores us to what we were meant for, when He finds us and saves us that He demands it all. Because all of us, not part of us, was made for Him.
So taking this further, I've thought about how I belong to this family. Through Christ's mind-blowing sacrifice of Himself, I am now restored. I'm found. I'm where I belong (and yet dually waiting for final restoration) ... But treasure is still missing. Spending time with Him and being near Him has somehow caused me to realize that He's still "searching" for what was His. It makes my heart ache. I want desperately for the lost to be found - cuz suddenly I feel that loss too. These individuals, the people I pass on the street or interact with at the store, they were meant to be my family! Something about that is just so compelling ...
"For the Son of Man came to seek and save the lost." -Luke 19:10
This has got me thinking ... I was one of those "Linus" kids - dragged my blanket around everywhere I went. Not just any blanket, but that very special one that was loved so much it felt like it was alive. I hope that's normal?? Anyway, I actually had two of these blankets, because the first one was lost. I remember where we were when we noticed it was missing. I remember my parents helping me look everywhere. I remember crying a lot. We never did find it. In fact, after giving up, I remember my mom taking out another blanket and explaining to me how special this new one was. Eventually my heart was able to make the transfer and all was well again.
What I read this morning along with that flashback to my childhood has helped me understand the idea of being 'lost' in a new way. I've referred to those who are not 'believers' as 'the lost' many times. But it's never really registered for me what they are lost from; at least not to the degree that it hit this morning. To be lost means you are not where you were intended to be. So, applying that to people, the 'lost' are not where God intended them to be. Which means, man was created - every single one of us- with the intention of being where we belong. And we were intended to be worshipers of God, belonging to Him. Now I know I was just a kid and it was just a blanket, but let me tell you - I grieved the loss of that thing! As ridiculous as this sounds, it felt like a piece of me was missing. That blanket and I 'belonged' to each other. That might not be the best example, but recalling my emotion made me consider what God must feel when it comes to what He has lost. Think of all the people alive right now and all those who have died who are/were lost. That's a lot of blankets. Does God grieve deeply over every last one of them? I think He must, because Jesus shared a lot of parables that had to do with searching for something that was lost. And He also included the emotion felt by the one who found the treasured belonging.
I've lived with an awareness that I belong to God; that I'm redeemed, adopted, and His dearly loved child. But it's never really crossed my mind before that this is what I was intended to be. It wasn't just out of His compassion and grace that He hunted me down; He hunts because we were meant to be His. Because we are His lost treasure. It's why living in the world and all that it offers never satisfies - because He made us to only be satisfied in Him. This means I was created with intentionality and purpose. But I was born lost, knowing neither intention nor purpose, consumed in the darkness of my own sin. It's why when He makes us His own, when He restores us to what we were meant for, when He finds us and saves us that He demands it all. Because all of us, not part of us, was made for Him.
So taking this further, I've thought about how I belong to this family. Through Christ's mind-blowing sacrifice of Himself, I am now restored. I'm found. I'm where I belong (and yet dually waiting for final restoration) ... But treasure is still missing. Spending time with Him and being near Him has somehow caused me to realize that He's still "searching" for what was His. It makes my heart ache. I want desperately for the lost to be found - cuz suddenly I feel that loss too. These individuals, the people I pass on the street or interact with at the store, they were meant to be my family! Something about that is just so compelling ...
"For the Son of Man came to seek and save the lost." -Luke 19:10
Monday, May 9, 2011
swallow hard
I'm coming out of a pretty intense week where I witnessed people spending several days focused and intentional on seeking after God. And when several people do that together, it's not all that surprising that God reveals Himself in some big ways. In fact, it quickly becomes obvious that He is the One doing the pursuing; chasing hard after each individual.
I had a little agenda that I brought into the week, but I was far more aware of the fact that I had no idea what I was walking into. I was excited but also 'cautiously' curious at what God was going to bring up - especially considering that sin was the focus of the materials I'm in.
I'm not going to write out all that I processed this last week (we'll have to do coffee if you want the whole story); instead I'm gonna focus on where these things have taken me - because I'm stuck there. I went on a pretty raw journey that took me to the cross. And after spending some time there it occurred to me that in order to receive the nourishment needed for life, one has to drink of His suffering. It wasn't until later that day when we were taking communion that I heard Him say to me: "swallow." Instantly, without thinking, I responded, "but it doesn't taste good."
Swallow? What does that even look like? And why am I so caught off guard by it and the way it tastes? I mean, what was I expecting it to taste like? I guess what I'm getting at is that the cost of discipleship is hitting me a little hard.
I went to the story of Christ's crucifixion in John and kept reading till I hit the end where Jesus talks to Peter. These words of Jesus to Peter haunt me, "...and lead you where you don't want to go. Follow me!" What?! Am I reading that right? Is Christ really saying, "Look, Peter, if you follow me I'm going to take you where you don't want to go, so follow me."? And that's exactly what Peter did. He followed Christ right up to his own crucifixion.
Don't get me wrong, I want to swallow. I want to swallow hard. But I'm realizing that this is no small thing. Somewhere along the way I subconsciously began to think I'm entitled to an easy ride. The tension free life is just a few gentle words, some sacrificial acts of love, and a handful of fervent prayers away. But what if following Him means things not only stay hard, but they get harder? What if I'm led to those places that I don't want to go? And if I'm not willing to go there, then why am I following in the first place?
The Christian life can't be about using God. It's not about His benefits ... It's about Him! Peter wasn't following a path that would lead to what He wanted; He was following a person in whom was life.
So right now I'm asking myself: Am I following this person? When I recognize His voice, will I swallow what He gives me, even if it tastes bitter? Will I follow Him directly into the places He takes me, even if I don't want to go? Will I get over myself long enough to embrace my relationship with Him because I love Him, not to use Him? ... But then, really, is there any other choice?
Such extravagant love, that He would invite me to drink from His cup.
I had a little agenda that I brought into the week, but I was far more aware of the fact that I had no idea what I was walking into. I was excited but also 'cautiously' curious at what God was going to bring up - especially considering that sin was the focus of the materials I'm in.
I'm not going to write out all that I processed this last week (we'll have to do coffee if you want the whole story); instead I'm gonna focus on where these things have taken me - because I'm stuck there. I went on a pretty raw journey that took me to the cross. And after spending some time there it occurred to me that in order to receive the nourishment needed for life, one has to drink of His suffering. It wasn't until later that day when we were taking communion that I heard Him say to me: "swallow." Instantly, without thinking, I responded, "but it doesn't taste good."
Swallow? What does that even look like? And why am I so caught off guard by it and the way it tastes? I mean, what was I expecting it to taste like? I guess what I'm getting at is that the cost of discipleship is hitting me a little hard.
I went to the story of Christ's crucifixion in John and kept reading till I hit the end where Jesus talks to Peter. These words of Jesus to Peter haunt me, "...and lead you where you don't want to go. Follow me!" What?! Am I reading that right? Is Christ really saying, "Look, Peter, if you follow me I'm going to take you where you don't want to go, so follow me."? And that's exactly what Peter did. He followed Christ right up to his own crucifixion.
Don't get me wrong, I want to swallow. I want to swallow hard. But I'm realizing that this is no small thing. Somewhere along the way I subconsciously began to think I'm entitled to an easy ride. The tension free life is just a few gentle words, some sacrificial acts of love, and a handful of fervent prayers away. But what if following Him means things not only stay hard, but they get harder? What if I'm led to those places that I don't want to go? And if I'm not willing to go there, then why am I following in the first place?
The Christian life can't be about using God. It's not about His benefits ... It's about Him! Peter wasn't following a path that would lead to what He wanted; He was following a person in whom was life.
So right now I'm asking myself: Am I following this person? When I recognize His voice, will I swallow what He gives me, even if it tastes bitter? Will I follow Him directly into the places He takes me, even if I don't want to go? Will I get over myself long enough to embrace my relationship with Him because I love Him, not to use Him? ... But then, really, is there any other choice?
Such extravagant love, that He would invite me to drink from His cup.
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