But as for me, I will call upon the Lord to save me, and I know he will!
Every evening I will explain my need to him.
Every morning I will move my soul toward him.
Every waking hour I will worship only him,
and he will hear and respond to my cry.
(Psalm 55:16-17 TPT)
Sometimes it is easier to worship faith than to worship the faithful One who gives us faith. The faith walk in real time means keeping our eyes upon Jesus and not whatever method we think prompted God to give us the desired responses to our requests last time.
By his life Jesus demonstrated that character matters more than comfort. Following Christ includes valley experiences where the fog obscures the view and disorients us, making us aware of our weakness. But here’s the thing: The Holy Spirit now walks through this before us, beside us, and behind us, and he is not worried. The path is familiar to him and he knows what lies on the other side.
Sometimes the gap between a promise given and a promise fulfilled is excruciatingly long.
I grew up in a part of Canada where signs of spring could suddenly be buried under snowstorms riding on cold winds harsh enough to take your breath away. I see yearly disappointment has struck the prairie provinces again this week.
Last week we were told that churches could open at limited capacity for Easter. Many of my friends and our brave spiritual leaders, and worship team members eagerly made plans for a special time together after months of isolation. Today new announcements squashed that hope. Due to another increase in cases of the virus no indoor religious services will be permitted at all anywhere in this province larger than a lot of countries.
For several months I have had severe pain in my legs and have had trouble walking or sleeping. One day, my doctor phoned to say the latest scans revealed the cause and although I would need surgery, there was hope the problem could be fixed. He called back three weeks later to relay that the consulting surgeon recommended against surgery, for several reasons. There are some things I can try to lessen the pain, but it looks like I need to learn to adapt to disability.
Today I was aware that hope has been deferred for many of us for all sorts of reasons. I wonder if the way we process disappointment says a lot about the way we grow or fail to grow in faith.
Like a lot of people, I’ve felt like I’ve been stuck in a perpetual spring/not spring, forward/backward cha cha dance of hope almost fulfilled/hope definitely not fulfilled lately. Sometimes the dance is exhausting. I have been guilty of sitting down, not always to rest in the Lord, but to put myself into some sort of trance-like endurance plod that looks less like producing potential springtime buds of manifesting promise and instead settling apathetically under the snow for another stretch of dull dormancy.
David, the harassed young psalm writer, often composed verse about seeing the fulfillment of God’s promises snatched away. From the perspective of hundreds of years later it would be easy to skip the agonizing equivalent of some guy singing the blues and go directly to the ecstatic King dancing with such joy that his underwear showed. But the bit in between is important.
The bit in between is called process and that’s where God likes to meet us. It’s that liminal space neither here nor there where we don’t know if we should try something else to force the promise into fulfillment, or if we should just find a way to protect our hearts from the thing we most want to avoid – disappointment. It’s that place where we realize that change in us is more important than change in our circumstances.
This morning, I remembered today is the anniversary of the day our son-in-love was supposed to die. One of the doctors treating him said, “If that guy lives it will be the biggest miracle I have ever seen.” After a week of seeing amazing answers to prayer it looked like it was all over, but God stepped in and reversed the natural order of things. Bruce lived. The creator breathed new life into his ravaged body. The miracle wasn’t instantaneous, but his extremely critical condition from sepsis and multiple organ failure changed direction and proceeded toward full healing much more rapidly than any professional medical expert could have predicted. The doctor had to admit it was a miracle. All this occurred as thousands praying for him dared to trust God in the face of disappointment and in defiance of the odds.
That, I believe, was the real miracle. People across the country and around the world dared to trust again and look for God’s intervention. They chose hope.
I’m hurting, Lord—will you forget me forever? How much longer, Lord? Will you look the other way when I’m in need? How much longer must I cling to this constant grief? I’ve endured this shaking of my soul. So how much longer will my enemy have the upper hand?
Take a good look at me, Yahweh, my God, and answer me! Breathe your life into my spirit. Bring light to my eyes in this pitch-black darkness or I will sleep the sleep of death. Don’t let my enemy proclaim, “I’ve prevailed over him.” For all my adversaries will celebrate when I fall. I have always trusted in your kindness, so answer me. I will spin in a circle of joy when your salvation lifts me up. I will sing my song of joy to you, Yahweh, for in all of this you have strengthened my soul. My enemies say that I have no Savior, but I know that I have one in you!
We are hurting, but our dancing day is coming. In the meantime, we are learning to lean on the One who loves us so much He gave everything to see us stand on wobbly legs and hear us sing in a wobbly voice, “I trust You, Lord. I know You are strengthening my soul. I trust Your timing. You are and always have been good. Breathe Your life into us.”
And don’t allow yourselves to be weary or disheartened in planting good seeds, for the season of reaping the wonderful harvest you’ve planted is coming!
Take advantage of every opportunity to be a blessing to others, especially to our brothers and sisters in the family of faith!
Galatians 6:9 TPT
When I gathered scarlet runner bean pods from the garden as I cleaned up in the autumn, I tossed the seeds in a little blue plastic bowl. I set the bowl on a glass-top table. The pink colour and the way the light shone through the bowl appealed to me, so I snapped a photo with my phone. Today I noticed it again as I searched for something else. It caught my attention and reminded me of the scripture above.
I don’t know about you, but I am getting very tired of inconsistent guidelines around controlling the spread of the virus. People are sharing more about the negative consequences of lockdowns. Beyond the stresses of lost businesses and separation from friends and family are very real and very serious health consequences. I know people who have lost children to despair, overdose, and suicide. I know people whose friends or family members have died because of untreated depression and delayed diagnosis and treatment of other serious illnesses like cancer. A different disease has been prioritized. At least that is what it looked like to me as I fretted over more heart-breaking news this week.
This week I went on an all-day rant. What I have discovered is that when I focus on the negative, I open the floodgates to more negativity, both from myself and others who cross my path. Peace was missing. Don’t hear what I am not saying. I take the virus seriously and I mourn with those who have lost loved ones to it. I’m not denying that reality, but in the process of venting my frustration I was losing focus on another higher reality. I don’t have an answer, but I know that when we reach the end of our ability to fix things, God is there waiting for us to turn around and cry out to him.
He reminds us not to grow weary of talking about and demonstrating his goodness. Seeds of anger and frustration at unfairness lead to crops of more ire and jealousy of those who don’t seem to be suffering as we are. Seeds of kindness, reminders of God’s lovingkindness, in contrast to the desire of the enemy of our souls to promote pain and chaos and division, sprout into growth that reaps a harvest of fruit.
Paul wrote to the Galatians to be careful what they planted. He talked about fruits produced by selfish interest. They included anger and jealousy. In contrast, those who are Christ-centered and led by the Holy Spirit plant seeds that produce love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
I lost it (and thankfully deleted most of the rant before posting in a public place). I was tired and angry and reacting instead of responding. There’s a difference between tiredness that comes from caring deeply about other’s pain and helping to carry their burdens and emotional exhaustion because caring is an inconvenient infringement upon my personal peace and prosperity. I was angry because I didn’t want to have to deal with the pain and sorrow of injustice. In his gentleness, the Lord reminded me that as righteous as the outburst may feel, “the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God.” (James 1:20)
We do have a choice (and this is a message to myself). Don’t allow yourself to be weary or disheartened by taking your eyes off the Saviour. Keep planting love, joy, peace…