Jeremiah 9:23-24 says "Thus says the Lord: “Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the Lord who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in these things I delight, declares the Lord.”
I read those verses recently while on a little trip with my husband in Florida. I was sitting on a balcony, watching the ocean, feeling peaceful, casually reading along when it seemed like a spotlight shone right on those 2 verses. I stopped, read them again, and again, and again and to be honest, I haven't stopped thinking about them yet. It's been about 2 weeks.... The part that most intrigues me is how the Lord says that he who boasts can boast in the fact that he understands and KNOWS God. It is possible to understand and know God. My heart beats with that passion- to know God, to fall deeper and deeper into His steadfast love, justice, and righteousness, to understand His delight in all of His creation, His hope for the future, His sorrow for the brokenness of the present. I want to know Him and in these verses I see the promise that my desire is not just a dream. I can know God.
Recently I also spent quite a bit of time pondering the verses in Philippians 3 that talk about Pauls "one thing". His one desire was to press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. When I look back through the book of Philippians, Paul talks on about how he counts everything as loss in order that he might gain Christ and be found in Him and then in 3:10, he says "That I may KNOW Him and the power of His resurrection". Paul's life was to know God. It's not that he didn't love those he was serving and teaching, it's not that he didn't work hard at anything his hand found to do, but underneath it all, his ONE THING was to know God and the power of His resurrection. The love and service and teaching naturally flowed from his heart because he understood the heart of God. When you know God, how can you not overflow with Him? God cannot be contained in my humanness- that's like saying the ocean could be contained in a coffee cup. When I make knowing God my sole desire and chief purpose in all that I do, everything He is floods over my weak human self. I can love because He is love, I can be brave because He is always in me, I can be strong because His strength gives me power, I can be wise because He is the author of all wisdom. It's always Him. Always.
While I've been contemplating this, I can't help but think of the story Jesus told in Matthew 13:44. He said "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy, he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field."
The more these words of God have steeped into my soul, the more I am bubbling over with joy at the thought that I can possess this incredible treasure- this precious gift- of knowing God. I would joyfully give all I have, all I could ever be, to know Him more. I don't mean to make light of the gifts He has given me in my life but compared to Him, they really just don't matter. It's not the gifts I want, it's the Giver. I know that all He has given me demonstrates His precious, never ending, amazing love that He has for me. But it's always about Him, never about the gift. He is priceless to me.
Of course, it's easy to rest in this joy right now- it's late at night, my kids are sweetly sleeping, my puppy is snuggled next to me (he's a snuggly little guy), my house is quiet, the dishwasher is running, life is good. I know in too few hours, I will be awake, feeling groggy from this late night, trying to hear through the chaos, and desperate for a word from God. So in those moments, how does knowing God change me?
I'm not sure if I can explain but I know it has to do with making Christ my treasure. When I look at all the ugliness that can happen in a moment, the kids screaming, the misunderstandings, the endless laundry, it's like the treasure of Christ and His love for us all is buried under too many rocks and clods of mud. I can't see it or feel it or even really know for sure if it's there. But, if I can stop a minute, think of what is buried there, breathe... I can see that all these hurts and heartaches, while they do matter, they don't matter as much to me as actually seeing Jesus in that moment. Can I look at my fighting girls, screaming ugly words at each other, and somehow know Jesus more? Can I see His face as He dies to save us from the twisted bitterness of selfishness? Can I help my girls to know that the way of the cross is always better?
When I look at my pile of dishes and think of how I have a million things to do in the next 2 hours and no time for what I really want to do or what I really know is important, can I know God better even then? Can I trust His steadfast love? Can I calm down, can I really believe that there is no emergency with God, that He always knows and always has a plan? Can I let go of my control and rest in His and joyfully proceed with the work ahead of me?
When I do stop and look at Jesus and try to find something new to understand about Him in every moment, it feels like I'm giving all I have to buy a field that I KNOW has a treasure beyond compare. I would willingly sacrifice all of my need to be in charge, my need to be right, my need to feel loved and respected, if I could only know Jesus and know the power of His resurrection coursing through me and making all the dead places alive in my heart.
He is the treasure. Not just knowledge about Him, not just words written on a page that tell me something new, but Him. His loving, amazing, surprising, awesome Self. I really don't think it would ever be possible to be so enthralled with a mere man- only Jesus could ever captivate my entire being in this way. He is my pearl of great price, my precious coin, my hidden treasure.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Enough
Over and over lately, God has been showing me that He is all that matters and He is enough. Jesus is enough has been the theme of every day lately, the last thought in my head before I sleep, the first thought when I wake up, the constant beat of my life every crazy minute. "Jesus is enough, Jesus is enough, Jesus is enough"
Lately, when I feel sad or discouraged or overwhelmed, emotions that tend to follow me wherever I go, I ask myself "Is Jesus really enough for this? Can He really satisfy the aching emptiness I sometimes feel?" The answer is always a resounding "Yes".
I can say I've tested Him- I've tried in the quiet lonely hours in the evenings when the kids are sleeping, the laundry is overflowing, the mirrors are toothpaste-spattered, the books are falling off the shelves, I've tried to say that He is not going to be able to meet me. I've turned on the TV, I've eaten some ice cream, but every time I've gone down that road, I know I'm just using an anesthetic to dull the ache rather than the scalpel of God's word to cut out the flesh infected with discontent and pride... every time. When I choose to lean into the ache and trust that Jesus is enough, the words He has told me over and over and over and over, and I open His word and I ask Him to show me what I'm not seeing, man, every single time, He meets me. He has never left me alone. Never once.
Sometimes I don't want the answer He gives. Sometimes I want to say "No, this is not the way I want it to be!" and stomp my foot and pout like the 2 year old I sometimes am. But then.... His sweet gentle quiet voice reminds me of the truth that "I, I am He who comforts you" (Isaiah 51:12) and "I am the God who pleads the cause of His people" (Isaiah 51:22). He is a Rock. He is the One that I can fully rest all of my anxiety and fear and loneliness and know that I am loved. I am cherished. I matter.
When I stop pouting and crying and begging for my own way, I say with Paul that forgetting all that is behind, all I want is to strain forward for the prize of knowing my Jesus more. He is all that matters. And I will never ever run out of Him. There will never be a time that I have learned all there is to know and I'm bored. The restlessness in my soul finds its home in the deep never ending love of the person of Jesus. When my eyes finally look away from myself and all the things I think will satisfy and turn to my Jesus, I can't tear my gaze from Him. He is everything.
Lately, when I feel sad or discouraged or overwhelmed, emotions that tend to follow me wherever I go, I ask myself "Is Jesus really enough for this? Can He really satisfy the aching emptiness I sometimes feel?" The answer is always a resounding "Yes".
I can say I've tested Him- I've tried in the quiet lonely hours in the evenings when the kids are sleeping, the laundry is overflowing, the mirrors are toothpaste-spattered, the books are falling off the shelves, I've tried to say that He is not going to be able to meet me. I've turned on the TV, I've eaten some ice cream, but every time I've gone down that road, I know I'm just using an anesthetic to dull the ache rather than the scalpel of God's word to cut out the flesh infected with discontent and pride... every time. When I choose to lean into the ache and trust that Jesus is enough, the words He has told me over and over and over and over, and I open His word and I ask Him to show me what I'm not seeing, man, every single time, He meets me. He has never left me alone. Never once.
Sometimes I don't want the answer He gives. Sometimes I want to say "No, this is not the way I want it to be!" and stomp my foot and pout like the 2 year old I sometimes am. But then.... His sweet gentle quiet voice reminds me of the truth that "I, I am He who comforts you" (Isaiah 51:12) and "I am the God who pleads the cause of His people" (Isaiah 51:22). He is a Rock. He is the One that I can fully rest all of my anxiety and fear and loneliness and know that I am loved. I am cherished. I matter.
When I stop pouting and crying and begging for my own way, I say with Paul that forgetting all that is behind, all I want is to strain forward for the prize of knowing my Jesus more. He is all that matters. And I will never ever run out of Him. There will never be a time that I have learned all there is to know and I'm bored. The restlessness in my soul finds its home in the deep never ending love of the person of Jesus. When my eyes finally look away from myself and all the things I think will satisfy and turn to my Jesus, I can't tear my gaze from Him. He is everything.
Monday, January 30, 2012
So it's been so long since I've written anything, i almost thought i should start a new blog because I feel like I failed at this one. But... I'm tired and that seems like a lot of work and tonight, I can't seem to get anything done because I have a lot of thoughts rolling around in my head so I'm going to write them down here. I also was thinking I should start a new blog because I feel awkward saying what I think knowing that some people read it. But I suppose if I don't want anyone to read it, I should write in my own private journal and not actually share it. The thing is, though, I actually do want to share. I just feel awkward thinking that other people actually would want to read it. So- if you've read this far, and feel like this is enough rambling, feel free to stop and don't feel forced to read on. :) Ok. Now that I have all that out of my system...
So today was my grandpa's funeral. I can't even really comprehend that. I know with all that is in me that he is with Jesus now. I was sort of telling Jesus earlier that I wish I could just see him for a second, just to KNOW that he is ok and happy and all of that and Jesus reminded me that I walk by faith, and not by sight. So I have to choose faith. And I do know he is so good right now.
I've actually wanted to write about him for at least a year now and for some reason, I just haven't. It felt too personal for my blog that I have such an awkward relationship with :) Anyways, I sort of wish I had shared some of this while he was still alive but I did tell it all to him and that is what really mattered.
I can honestly say that I have absolutely no negative memories of him. I know there is no one in my life who could say that about me... and I'm sure there are people in his life who were hurt by him or offended or something at some point or another, I know he was just a man. But for me, he really was such a larger than life hero. When i was a kid, he was just so big. Everything about him was big and safe and fun. He had huge strong hands that engulfed mine, he hugged big, he laughed big. He was just big. I loved him. A friend of mine was reminding me the other day of a time when we were his guests at an Awana camp and we felt so important because we came with him and it made me think- I always felt important to him. He had 25 grandkids, so it's not like I was the only one or anything, but when I was with him, I always felt like I mattered to him. Like who I was was important in his world. That's huge for a kid. Again- I'm not sure any kids in my life could say that about me right now. I hope that changes.
When I was older, I really liked Russian history and Russian language and so I loved to talk to him about that because he really cared about that too. I really loved to sit at his table and just talk and listen. It always felt like the world was in order, like everything was ok and God was in control and I didn't need to worry. That was such a good feeling.
Honestly, the only thing I ever regretted with him was that I was impatient with him at my wedding. He was performing the ceremony and he sometimes tended to talk on and on and I know in my heart, I was rude and impatient. I'm embarrassed to say that. It shows how immature and self-centered I was. I talked to him about that a couple years ago though and apologized for my immaturity. So I don't really regret that anymore.
As much as I really have just loved him all my life, in the last couple years, that love that was perhaps more focused on how he made me feel important and loved and safe and all of that has changed to a genuine love for him and for who he was and who he has been just in these last couple years. I don't remember when he stopped being able to talk- I remember when he could hardly talk and he would always go to such effort to say "I can't talk very well any more" and I felt so bad he used up his talking energy saying that. One of the last things I remember him saying was "Amen" I was reading Ephesians 3 to him and when I finished with the prayer at the beginning of Ephesians 3 and said "Amen", he echoed it. I really don't know if I ever heard him say another word.
The relationship I've had with him in the last few years is probably kind of odd. It sometimes feels a little like an imaginary friend to me- just because I talked to him a lot and told him what I was learning and what was happening in my life but he never said anything back. He just held my hand and squeezed it tight. I don't know what he was thinking or even really what he heard but I've had such sweet times sitting with him. In my chaotic and loud life, sitting with him was such a welcome refuge.
So many times, I wanted to just tell every person in the hall near him, every CNA who took care of him, every nurse who came in, "Do you know who this is?! This is not just another old person who can't talk. This is my grandpa!"
I've worked in nursing homes. I know how easy it can be to forget that everyone is someone's father, someone's mother, sister, brother, grandma, grandpa... I hated knowing that my grandpa was probably treated just like another body to wash and medicate and clothe and his real self was ignored. I hated that I couldn't do anything to stop that.
I am so glad he is with his Jesus now. I can't fathom how much I will miss him, how much the world is a lesser place without him.
I've been thinking a ton lately about how who I am all comes down to which voices in my life I choose to believe. Do I believe all the voices, real and imaginary, that have told me I'm worthless, dumb, insignificant, a failure... or do I believe the real voices that have told me i am loved, important, valuable?
And I'm realizing, the way that I know Jesus is by how I see Him in the lives of those who have loved me. My grandpa has shown me who Jesus is. I am so grateful.
So today was my grandpa's funeral. I can't even really comprehend that. I know with all that is in me that he is with Jesus now. I was sort of telling Jesus earlier that I wish I could just see him for a second, just to KNOW that he is ok and happy and all of that and Jesus reminded me that I walk by faith, and not by sight. So I have to choose faith. And I do know he is so good right now.
I've actually wanted to write about him for at least a year now and for some reason, I just haven't. It felt too personal for my blog that I have such an awkward relationship with :) Anyways, I sort of wish I had shared some of this while he was still alive but I did tell it all to him and that is what really mattered.
I can honestly say that I have absolutely no negative memories of him. I know there is no one in my life who could say that about me... and I'm sure there are people in his life who were hurt by him or offended or something at some point or another, I know he was just a man. But for me, he really was such a larger than life hero. When i was a kid, he was just so big. Everything about him was big and safe and fun. He had huge strong hands that engulfed mine, he hugged big, he laughed big. He was just big. I loved him. A friend of mine was reminding me the other day of a time when we were his guests at an Awana camp and we felt so important because we came with him and it made me think- I always felt important to him. He had 25 grandkids, so it's not like I was the only one or anything, but when I was with him, I always felt like I mattered to him. Like who I was was important in his world. That's huge for a kid. Again- I'm not sure any kids in my life could say that about me right now. I hope that changes.
When I was older, I really liked Russian history and Russian language and so I loved to talk to him about that because he really cared about that too. I really loved to sit at his table and just talk and listen. It always felt like the world was in order, like everything was ok and God was in control and I didn't need to worry. That was such a good feeling.
Honestly, the only thing I ever regretted with him was that I was impatient with him at my wedding. He was performing the ceremony and he sometimes tended to talk on and on and I know in my heart, I was rude and impatient. I'm embarrassed to say that. It shows how immature and self-centered I was. I talked to him about that a couple years ago though and apologized for my immaturity. So I don't really regret that anymore.
As much as I really have just loved him all my life, in the last couple years, that love that was perhaps more focused on how he made me feel important and loved and safe and all of that has changed to a genuine love for him and for who he was and who he has been just in these last couple years. I don't remember when he stopped being able to talk- I remember when he could hardly talk and he would always go to such effort to say "I can't talk very well any more" and I felt so bad he used up his talking energy saying that. One of the last things I remember him saying was "Amen" I was reading Ephesians 3 to him and when I finished with the prayer at the beginning of Ephesians 3 and said "Amen", he echoed it. I really don't know if I ever heard him say another word.
The relationship I've had with him in the last few years is probably kind of odd. It sometimes feels a little like an imaginary friend to me- just because I talked to him a lot and told him what I was learning and what was happening in my life but he never said anything back. He just held my hand and squeezed it tight. I don't know what he was thinking or even really what he heard but I've had such sweet times sitting with him. In my chaotic and loud life, sitting with him was such a welcome refuge.
So many times, I wanted to just tell every person in the hall near him, every CNA who took care of him, every nurse who came in, "Do you know who this is?! This is not just another old person who can't talk. This is my grandpa!"
I've worked in nursing homes. I know how easy it can be to forget that everyone is someone's father, someone's mother, sister, brother, grandma, grandpa... I hated knowing that my grandpa was probably treated just like another body to wash and medicate and clothe and his real self was ignored. I hated that I couldn't do anything to stop that.
I am so glad he is with his Jesus now. I can't fathom how much I will miss him, how much the world is a lesser place without him.
I've been thinking a ton lately about how who I am all comes down to which voices in my life I choose to believe. Do I believe all the voices, real and imaginary, that have told me I'm worthless, dumb, insignificant, a failure... or do I believe the real voices that have told me i am loved, important, valuable?
And I'm realizing, the way that I know Jesus is by how I see Him in the lives of those who have loved me. My grandpa has shown me who Jesus is. I am so grateful.
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