In Actions and Truth

The internet is really scary. I sometimes get the horrible idea to go backs into years past on my Facebook and read "Notes" I posted, look at pictures I took, or read comments I made. They are all terrifying. Honestly, who is that person? Why did I think that was cool? Sometimes, though, there is this insightful little peek into my past suffering, struggles, or fears. I read through some of the things I wrote after a string of tragedies when I was 17. I remembered that high school wasn't just plagued with the trials of popularity or sports. There were real tragedies and real heartache that happened. I lost friends and family. My friends lost their fathers. Pastors lost children. Death has been a very tangible reality this week. One of my mother's friends passed away after a long struggle with ovarian cancer. As death inevitably always does, it reminded me of all my previous painful experiences. It caused me to mourn for this woman's family. It made me miss her for my mother. I felt, on a much smaller scale than my mom or Lynne's family, the acute pain of loss and the hollow, insatiable gnaw of grief. I remembered, though, when I read that little blog post on Facebook how the Lord sustained me throughout my life. I remembered that with the horrible pain of losing someone comes the other-worldly peace that comes from knowing Jesus and the promises he has made. I also remembered that I was not created to forever live in a world where death and grief are always near, but that there will soon be a day without weeping, without suffering, and without pain. I don't have a verse that gave me inspiration or some profound quote by a theologian to post, but I do have my own small story of how the Lord sustained me through every single trial in my life. I can say that he is good, even after experiencing suffering. And praise Him that my suffering has been so, so minimal compared to others. But he is good. I can look back at my short life thus far and tell you personally, he has wounded but he has bound up. He has struck down but not destroyed. He has taken away but he has given. I can find rest and peace in His sovereignty if I look for it.

A theme in my life over the past few months has been remembering. Not the kind of remembering that involves sad nostalgia, but the kind of remembering that causes you to be grateful. A while back I read through 1 Samuel and was struck by the significance of the Ebenezer stone. Samuel laid down a stone and called it Ebenezer, declaring to the people, "Till now has the Lord helped us." (1 Samuel 7:12) Israel had just miraculously won a huge battle against the Philistines. Samuel saw fit immediately after to not only pause and thank the Lord for defeating their enemies, but to remember all the good things He has done for them until now. This story made me realize how often I dwell on my current problems, anxieties, or imperfections and how little I consider the great things he has done for me. (1 Samuel 12:20-24) That despite my many shortcomings and constant struggle with sin, the Lord has been faithful to me. I was reminded of this again today after listening to the sermon taught at church and reading a friend's blog (read it here). So I am remembering now, and my heart is filled with worship. It is so easy for me to compare my life to others' and decide that I am doing something wrong. It is easy for me to get caught up in my fear of not being enough. But when I look at my past and see what the Lord has brought me out of, I do not doubt that he will continue to refine, prune, and water me until I am "perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." (James 1:4) I must only remain steadfast, and the best way for me to cling to His promises is to remember how many times he has already fulfilled them. The most important being his promise of new hope through his son, Jesus. That being said, it is still easy for me to get discouraged. I struggle against feeling like a failure, a backslider, and generally a "bad Christian". (I'm not even sure what the means.) But if I remember the most vital, life-giving part of my faith, I remember that Jesus took the wrath for my sin, knowing full well how many times I would turn my back to him, and that even the best, most moral things I could ever do cannot earn me righteousness. It was freely given to me through the life, death, and resurrection of Christ despite my failures. Through my salvation, through the Gospel, I am clean. So I will remember his faithfulness, remember his mercy, and above all remember Jesus.

13 I believe[f] that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord     in the land of the living! 14  Wait for the Lord;      be strong, and let your heart take courage;     wait for the Lord!

9 O Lord, our Lord,     how majestic is your name in all the earth!

My grandparents live in the hill country off the San Saba river. They have several acres and a big pasture with some baby pecan trees in it. Sometimes at night, I'll take one of the spot lights, hop on the four-wheeler, and ride out right into the middle of that field. To my right is the river bank, to my left is the neighboring pasture with cattle huddled together lowing softly. I switch off my spotlight and am immediately encompassed by darkness. It is almost tangible, it's so thick around me. For a second I am fearful. I'm used to constant lights and sounds. After a moment I look up and see thousands of stars. My eyes begin to adjust more, and I can see the tall grass rocking in the wind. I am alert to the sounds of the cicadas, of the river running, of the wind winding its way around me. Even though the darkness is startling at first, slowly my pupils dilate, allowing the right amount of light in. I don't need my flashlight anymore. I can see.

All day long they surround me like a flood;    they have completely engulfed me. You have taken from me friend and neighbor—    darkness is my closest friend.

I do not mean to ask questions to a good and perfect God, I only mean to know the answers to my very limited thoughts; and I want to hear your voice so clearly it cannot be denied but I know I won’t get there until after I die and I long to be in your presence, I long to know your thoughts, but my ways are not your ways, and I cannot question my numbered days and I can’t question the days of my loved ones who have already passed away and I can’t question your decision to give and take away but I know that someday, my yearning will be complete and I’ll stand before your throne and I’ll worship at your feet, Jesus, I am covered by your blood- no longer a slave to my flesh, I am a slave to your righteousness, your grace is sufficient and if I believed that it would be efficient in driving me to do good and loving my fellow man- I cannot go beyond the reach of your hand. I just ask why, why me, why not he or she, why not her or him, and where do I fit in, is there a limit to your plan, and how do I understand, father. I know my life is mapped out like the lines on an atlas and I can understand that I’ll never understand this but I just want to breathe easy. Father I know I fight and I know that in the Bible it says that that’s not right and I know that if I am still then you will fight for me but how does that coincide with me living intentionally. How do I walk out your plan when I don’t know what it is and I can’t hear your voice, Jesus- but I can read it on the page of your inerrant word and I can try to understand your ways and all I can say to describe you is good. It’s only a four-letter word but if the word became flesh and dwelt among us how can I use a word to describe THE WORD. Father. That’s absurd. All I have to offer is a broken heart that’s black and trampled. I cannot deny irresistible grace, the beauty of your face, the peace in knowing you, the promises that hold true, prophesies fulfilled. I must build upon these truths. Father. I long to know you. I long to trust you more than I do- an inexhaustible well, a tree that cannot be felled. A mighty oak. I live in a fleshly cloak guarding my mind in a thick haze but someday I will be redeemed at the end of days I will come to you and I will sit on your lap and I will kiss your face. Maybe I will ask why but maybe I won’t care. Maybe it’s sufficient just being there. And your presence will be enough. 

Your ways are not my ways, my thoughts are not your thoughts.