a year's journey ...

These last few days I've been reflecting on and remembering the journey God has taken me on this last year. As I thought, I started to write. This is what came out ...

This is Christ in me. I could not have imagined this. In my ugliness and resistance He invited me to open myself up to Him. I didn’t understand what that meant nor do I know how it happened. But it did. He filled every crevice I would give Him, leaving me with a continual lust for more. “It is true, you are my witness,” He has told me. And somewhere in the mystery of this journey, I have grown to deeply believe Him; and, yes, even love Him.

Fear has been my enemy. It has kept me captive; locked in from experiencing Him more deeply and richly than I ever had before. Fear has kept me from trusting Him, so I wouldn’t step outside the boat. But He met me in my longing and touched a desire within me that only He knew where to find. The desire overpowered the fear and I found myself walking on water. The experience was thrilling! I relaxed, and began to dance with Him. I’m a clumsy dancer, but got caught up in it anyway. I certainly could have “danced all night,” but that didn’t happen. Instead, He paused in the dance to talk to me. And in the most tender and loving of tones, He said, “Child, I’m going to take you to places you don’t want to go. Follow me.”

What?! I was uncomfortable and confused. I resisted. And yet at the same time I was falling in love. How could I not follow that Voice? He so clearly loved me. So I followed as best I could, walking through the pain it brought. I wasn’t dancing anymore. I was dying. Then He gave me something to drink. It was bitter and I got very close to spitting it out. But His Voice, in that deeply loving tone, responded to my resistance by saying, “Swallow”. I don’t know if I would have swallowed if I didn’t notice that He was drinking it too. After I finally got the first sip down I realized there was a whole cup to be drunk. “Why?” I kept asking. And His voice would say, “Consider the lilies and then you will know. Let go of all you cannot hold on to. Trust Me more fully than you ever have before.”

I would drink for a while, and then stop to argue. How many more sips do I have to take? I began to wonder if He cared, so I asked Him. He answered me, but this time His voice was firm. All He said was, “Call me Master.” In that moment I realized who I was. I was His servant, the one He had chosen. And if the Master says drink, you drink! So that’s what I continued to do.  As I did, I noticed something was changing in me. I began to see how I was something like a glass container that was layered in filth. This bitter tasting drink was cleaning the ugliness away. I was becoming transparent.  His purity was exposing itself through this vessel. It was beautiful. Not that I personally felt beautiful, rather the beauty was the beam of light within me that had found a way out. Overwhelmed, I got up and started to dance again.

I got caught up in this dance and didn’t realize we were moving again until I suddenly found myself in the middle of a busy and crowded place. People and activity were everywhere. I could barely hear His voice, if I was hearing it at all. I was distracted to say the least. I don’t know why, but I was instantly aware of everyone around me. I cared about what this crowd thought of me. I longed to worship Him and proclaim Him, but fear was taking over again. How will that be interpreted? I noticed that some were offended and others skeptical of what I had to say. I knew I needed to hide and I began to look for a place to do that. Instead, I saw Him and He saw me. He approached me, took my face in His hands and said, “Do not hide. Do not be silent. Pour yourself out for Me. Worship Me publicly in this place. I will defend you, so do not fear the crowd. Listen to My voice, for you know what it sounds like. Do what I’m asking you to do. This is for my glory.”

Something overcame me in that exchange, fear had no chance at all. Right there, in public, I fell to His feet and poured out my treasure. A fragrant perfume. He received it. I lost all awareness of the crowd, rather, all I could think was, “Why would He receive this from a prostitute?” For that is exactly who I knew myself to be.

At His feet, I’m in awe of what I’ve seen. And often, as I marvel at it all, I wonder if my heart has grown full of pride by it. I asked Him about that too. And He said, “You can only serve one master.” I can use this to try to please the crowd or to worship the Master. But I cannot be the servant of the crowd and the servant of the Master at the same time.

And so, I find myself echoing Paul's words in Galatians, "For am I now seeking approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ. For I would have you know, brothers, that the gospel that was preached by me is not man's gospel. For I did not receive it from any man, nor was I taught it, but I received it through a revelation of Jesus Christ."

take this bread, drink this wine

Speaking for myself, transitions are extremely distracting times. I get this strange sensation that I'm floating. In the midst of trying to focus on what needs my attention, I'm also trying to find a place to plant my feet. But the reality of transition is that it is a move to a new normal, and a new normal is never quickly found - atleast that's been my experience.

Perhaps that's why I'm feeling especially grateful at the moment. Because, despite my scattered and unorganized thoughts, my Savior still knows how to get my attention. I don't have to have it all together for Him to communicate with me. In fact, He has somehow mysteriously used the 'floating' to deepen His message all the more. Here's what I'm hearing ...

There is an undeniable theme of 'surrender' going on in my life right now. It started awhile ago but was reinforced this summer as I journeyed down the road of 'support raising'. With the intention of questioning God about what I was doing wrong (and subtly accuse Him of not taking care of me), I first paused to ask what Name of His I should use in this conversation. In 3 words, He answered both of those questions. He responded, "Call me Master." Conviction fell on me like a heavy weight. There was no denying that my heart was far from approaching God humbly as His servant, desiring only to do the will of my Master.

My 'Master' has been faithful to address this through just about everything, but there is one moment that has been so powerful for me, it's been hard to move past it. God led me to the Garden of Gethsemane (Matt. 26:36-46) and planted me there as an observer. I 'watched' the scene as I read it. I still haven't been able to find words to express what I felt. Overwhelmed? Silenced? Broken? Grateful? Those words don't feel deep enough. I found myself realizing that I was 'watching' the greatest expression of surrender this world will ever know. (Interestingly, the only people who could have physically witnessed it were sleeping!) Alone in the garden, abandoned by friends, Christ voices these words, "My Father, if this cannot pass away unless I drink it, Your will be done."

As we know, but should still be mentioned: when Christ says 'this', He's referring to bearing the weight for every sin ever committed (past, present and future) which takes Him innocently to the place of death. And this is where it began to get personal. I talk to God all the time about 'this' and 'that'. And when I do, I'm most definitely asking for 'this' to pass away. Just like Jesus did. But, my 'this' holds no comparison to Christ's, and yet how often (if ever) have I said with absolute sincerity, "I'll drink, if it's Your will."

If you've spent anytime talking to me these last couple weeks, you probably already know that I'm obsessed with a new song right now ("Beyond the Blue" by Josh Garrels).  The lyrics keep stopping me in thought. One of the lines repeated in the song says "And let go, of all we cannot hold onto for the hope, beyond, the blue." Then tucked away in the middle of a verse is the phrase, "So take this bread, and drink this wine."

Let go. Surrender. Take this. Drink. These words keep calling out to me. I mean, they aren't just 'food for thought', they demand a living out. As I picture Christ in Gethsemane, the idea of following Him is taking on a whole new meaning, a deeper one. Christ surrendered to His Father, the Author of our story. Slowly, I'm longing to do the same.