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Unlikely Cherished Things

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Confession time again.

Have you ever held onto a promise of God—watching, waiting, wrestling with the time it has taken to fulfill it—and wondered if perhaps you had been wrong to believe it? You reason that God might fulfill this promise for someone else, but what if He’s decided not to do it for you? What if this isn’t part of your blessing?

A part of my heart has been broken for a very long time. Nothing particularly traumatic or extraordinary happened to me to break it. Years ago, I simply made some destructive choices in search of acceptance. Choices that the world offers as commonplace and right, but that God warns will leave their mark. They did.

I had no idea the extent of the damage. Like most of us do, I looked at my life and the progress I’d made with the Lord and thought I was okay.

But God is too good to allow us to settle for okay. After all, His Son was beaten, bled, and hung on a cross to heal what sin’s damage left broken. To restore us. To make us whole.

Still, as much as God has transformed me and poured His grace into my life, in this area, I have not been whole.

And I’ve struggled with God over it.

I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve cried out to Him in prayer, surrendering this one thing and asking for healing. Yet I remain stuck.

While Living Water flows and empowers so many areas of my life, something has blocked its movement here. This place remains a dry desert.

This week, I revisited Numbers 13. I stood in the desert with Moses and witnessed God sending men from each tribe to explore the land He’d promised to Israel. After forty days, the men returned and reported what they had found.

“We went into the land to which you sent us, and it does flow with milk and honey! Here is its fruit.” Numbers 13:27

They found the land exactly as God had promised. They even tasted the fruit available to them there.

“But the people who live there are powerful, and the cities are fortified and very large.” Numbers 13:28

So they determined not to even try to claim the land God had promised them.

Listen, dear one. Twelve men entered the land God clearly said He was giving them as an inheritance (verse 1). They all witnessed the same things. They all saw that the land was good, and they all saw the fortified cities and fighting men.

Two of those men focused on the promises of God and received them into their lives. The other ten focused on the obstacles keeping them from attaining it. Those ten, as well as the rest of the Israelites who believed them, never left the desert. That’s where they died.

It struck me that I have had a similar experience to those Israelites. I have witnessed God’s awesome power to deliver and have left the captivity of much of my sin. Now I stand in the desert looking at the promise of wholeness God has placed before me, that He has promised to give me through His Word. I have even tasted the fruit of it as God has graciously allowed breakthrough moments that have shown me what’s possible in Him.

But those moments always fade, and the obstacles loom large once again. Still, I remain in the desert.

I can’t help but ask the question. Why?

I’m not particularly fond of the answer He gave me.

You see, just like those Israelites, I have kept myself in the desert. Part of me clung to its familiarity, even while I cried out to God to deliver me from it.

Somehow along the way, this very part of myself that I hated and cried out to God to restore became a cherished thing. I wanted God to miraculously heal it, but at the same time, I’m recognizing that I didn’t really want to give it up. It defined me. It was familiar. I actually feared the void it might leave if I let go of it. So I didn’t. I asked God to take it, but I wasn’t willing to hand it to Him. I said I was, but I’ve discovered that my heart didn’t agree.

And that was the problem, dear one. Because God will only take what we freely offer Him.

Yesterday, my Scripture reading took me to Mount Moriah. I wept with Abraham as he placed his cherished thing, his beloved son Isaac, on the altar of sacrifice. He didn’t allow the obstacles ahead of him—death itself—to keep him from believing God’s promise to bless him through Isaac. Hebrews 11:19 reveals that he reasoned God could raise him from the dead.

So Abraham placed his son on the altar, fully believing in the goodness of his faithful God. Expecting a miracle, he chose not to withhold his cherished thing.

And God provided a ram in place of Abraham’s offering. God didn’t take, dear one. He gave. And He multiplied Abraham’s offering. Instead of only the one cherished son, Abraham would have “descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore (Genesis 22:17).”

Look at God’s response to His faithful servant.

“I swear by myself, declares the Lord, that because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, I will surely bless you . . .” Genesis 22:16-17

What are you withholding from God, dear one, that blocks the flow of His blessing into your life? As I discovered, sometimes the things we’re holding onto aren’t even good things. They’re destructive things. Things we’ve convinced ourselves we need, when actually they are the very things that rob us of the blessing we desire through them.

God doesn’t empty, beloved. He fills. He swears on His own name that He will do it.

“I swear by myself, declares the Lord, that because you have done this and have not withheld ____________________________ I will surely bless you . . .” Genesis 22:16-17

Will you believe Him?

Weakness: Your Great Spiritual Weapon

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If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness. 2 Corinthians 11:30

We don’t often like to admit our weaknesses. I spent years trying to hide mine. Let’s face it. We want others to see us as capable, confident and strong. Few of us like to admit our vulnerabilities to ourselves, never mind acknowledge them to others.

Have you ever thought about why? Seriously. Have you ever taken time to contemplate what’s behind the world’s disdain for weakness?

Perhaps you’ve never considered this thought before: The notions of this world are established by its prince (John 12:31, John 16:11). Satan himself pulls the strings to set up the ideals that govern this world. And he has decided that we should fear, despise and cover our weakness.

Why is he so intent on crushing weakness and promoting self-sufficiency?

Beloved, the enemy fears your camaraderie with weakness because he understands that your weakness holds the key to unlocking God’s strength. God reveals and perfects His power in weakness.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.  2 Corinthians 12:9

Dear one, your weakness might be the greatest spiritual weapon you possess in your arsenal. It is through your weakness—not your strength—that Christ’s power comes to rest on you.

As followers of Jesus, you and I have been given a great gift. We house the Holy Spirit within us, the same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead (Ephesians 1:19-20).

2 Corinthians 4:6-7 teaches,

For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.

You, my friend, are a jar of clay housing the light of the glory of God.

The enemy tries to keep our attention firmly fixed on the clay jar. He whispers that our value is found in its strength. And he keeps us very concerned with its appearance.

But when we look closely at our clay shells, we see obvious evidence of wear and weakness. Life’s hardships have left us with tiny chips and cracks that have sapped our strength. Things like rejection, abuse, loss and disappointment have conspicuously left their mark.

And we have been taught to despise weakness, so we work hard to cover them up. We busily camouflage our chips and cracks with polish and pretense, trying to maintain the appearance of a perfect vessel, a vessel the world accepts.

What we fail to realize is that every crack in our pottery provides a place for the light of the Spirit within us to escape and be seen. Our weak places allow for the release of God’s power.

What if we stopped trying to repair and maintain our own jars of clay and surrendered them instead into the care of the Potter? What if we began to acknowledge our cracks and stopped trying to cover them? What if we even went so far as to break the jar?

Gideon knows a thing or two about the power released from a broken jar. Perhaps you’ve heard his story. God found him threshing wheat in a wine press, hiding in fear from Israel’s enemies.  He called him a mighty warrior and then used weakness to defeat strength. He led him to victory over the vast Midianite army with only 300 soldiers.

You might be surprised at the weapons God instructed them to use. The men didn’t carry swords and shields. Instead,

. . . he placed trumpets and empty jars in the hands of all of them, with torches inside. Judges 7:16

Do you know how Gideon’s army defeated the enemy? They sounded the trumpets and shattered the jars, revealing the torchlight hidden within them. The enemy saw the light from the torches surrounding their camp and fled in confusion. Then,

. . . the Lord caused the men throughout the camp to turn on each other with their swords. (verse 22)

The value of the jars didn’t come from their appearance or their strength. They had value in the battle because they were easily broken. And their weakness allowed for the true weapon to show itself. Their frailty revealed the light within.

Beloved, the enemy does not tremble at the sight of your clay pot. But, oh, how he trembles at the light he knows you carry inside.

For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength. 1 Corinthians 1:25

Our fear of weakness has done exactly what Satan intended it to: it has made us weak.

Are you ready to trust God with brokenness? You may just be amazed at the power you see unleashed.

The Still, Small Voice

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“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.”  John 10:27, NIV

Last Friday morning, my eyelids fluttered open to discover that it was still dark. Ordinarily I wouldn’t be thrilled by that observation, but I felt the Lord whispering to my heart, “Meet me for the sunrise.”

Anticipation stirred my soul, and I carefully slid from the bed to avoid waking my husband. This was the moment I’d been waiting for.

It was the last day of our family vacation in Hatteras, NC, and I had been seeking an answer for an important decision looming ahead of me in ministry. I felt fairly confident I had heard from the Lord, but I had asked Him for confirmation. I eagerly dressed to head to the beach, expecting He was about to give it.

My husband’s voice interrupted my thoughts, “Are you going out to watch the sunrise?”

“I’m going to meet with the Lord,” I answered.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

I hesitated. Truth be told, I did mind.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my husband. Most of the time I’d rather be with him than any other person on the face of the earth. But I wasn’t heading out to enjoy the romantic notion of the sunrise. I had an altogether different plan in mind. I needed to hear from God. And quite frankly, my husband’s presence there didn’t fit my view of what that moment was supposed to look like. I thought he’d be—well, a distraction.

So I wanted to tell him to go back to sleep. But that familiar stirring reminded me that I should put his desires ahead of my own. Instead I answered, “sure.”

He dressed quickly and we slipped together out the sliding door. Grabbing two beach chairs, we headed through the sand to the shore.

For several minutes we sat in companionable silence staring out at the sea. Both of us had brought headphones, and I decided that listening to worship might help me open my heart and clear my mind. I tried not to notice that my husband had placed his chair in a way that blocked my view of the beach. I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see him fidgeting with his iPad.

Then he turned his head to smile at me and reached out his hand for mine.

Again, I hesitated, and the Lord spoke. “You are stronger together.”

I took my husband’s outstretched hand, offering silent prayer to the Lord. I confessed my selfishness and asked His forgiveness, thanking Him for the many gifts I had in my husband. Peace began to flood my soul as I realized that Jesus wanted me to share our intimate fellowship with my husband. Christ had something to reveal to us together that wouldn’t be realized apart.

Hand in hand, listening to the sounds of the sea, we prayed together. I can’t recall all that was said. I simply remember the sweet encounter with Jesus we shared, and the feel of warm tears slowly descending down my cheeks.

Afterward we sat in silence again, watching the waves crash the beach. Without even looking at me, my husband spoke. “We’re supposed to go with Larry.”

It was the answer to the question I had asked my Shepherd to clarify. I had prayed specifically that His Spirit would reveal the path to each of us, that we both would hear the same divine message and our agreement would reveal Him in the midst of it. My husband’s words were the confirmation I had sought.

God did give me the answer I longed for that morning, not in spite of my husband’s presence there, but through it. How thankful I am that I listened to the stirring of His gentle Spirit instead of the loud roar of my flesh. Now I didn’t just have a Word from the Lord. I had a witness. Oh how I love His faithfulness!

You might be interested to know what initiated my divine appointment with God on the beach that day. My husband shared with me that he had trouble getting to sleep the night before. As he finally drifted off, he made a last request of the Lord. He asked God to wake him for the sunrise.

Kind of gives a new perspective on the term “helpmate,” doesn’t it? My husband asked to see the sunrise so the Lord woke his wife. I asked for direction, and the Lord gave it through my husband.

“So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”  Matthew 19:6

God’s ways are always higher, always better. Imagine if we learned to walk in tune with the still, small voice, surrendering selfishness moment by moment in exchange for His gentle instruction. I think we’d discover an abundance of sweet blessings.

I’m game. Are you?