Afternoons this time of year are so strange. An hour ago, I was so cheered by the bright sunshine pouring through all of our windows. Now, long shadows cast gray light, and it doesn’t look like afternoon anymore: it’s dusk.
Well, only one thing to do-start cooking and make this place cozy with the aromas of an autumn eveming.
I read this today and noticed this for the first time.
Even Paul, the Apostle of Jesus Christ, third heaven guy, had his days when he just didn’t get it. And even when that happened, he never despaired. What a great example.
I love these moments, these glimpses into our heroes and their real-life Christianity. I love when they come down to my human level and I realize that even a man who, under the inspiration of God Himself, wrote most of the New Testament, was a believer just like me. His faith was child-like, and that means that things went over his head sometimes, but even so, he was content because he knew what God was [is!] like, and that was enough of a firm footing for his faith.
Maybe perplexed, but not despairing. Confident in hope, joyous in expectation. Not always understanding each moment, but fully convinced of the end. That was Paul.
May it be me, too.
I left for a walk, eager to experience the colors and wind so typical of the season. My pace was brisk, my heart full, and my soul communing. And so I was rather taken off guard when suddenly, a few minutes later, I was sobbing.
Sobbing the same way I did weeks ago, as my father held my sister and me. My emotions still reject this sadness as beyond their ability to process.
So I sobbed. And cried out to the Lord.
Oh, God, please be with us. We need You… Please get a hold of our hearts. Protect us… Oh, Lord, I just want to go home! Sometimes I just don’t think I can live here any longer. I just want to be with You… Thank You for Your Son. Thank You for not forsaking us, for not leaving us hopeless in this futile world. Thank You adopting us and being our Father… Oh God, surround us.”
And thoughts came. For what it’s worth, I’ll share them:
“And in Your hands the pain and hurt look less like scars and more like character.” –sara groves
This has scarred our hearts, Lord. Use it to refine us. May we cling to You.
“He will revive us after two days; He will raise us up on the third day, that we may live before Him. So let us know, let us press on to know the Lord. His going forth is as certain as the dawn; and He will come to us like the rain, like the spring rain watering the earth.” –hosea 6
How many times this month have I felt that dusk has settled permanantly? NOT TRUE–You’re the sun in my horizon.
“He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.” –psalm 121
You’re watching us. We’re safe with you.
“He will cover you with His pinions, and under His wings you may seek refuge; His faithfulness is a shield and bulwark. You will not be afraid of the terror by night, or of the arrow that flies by day.” –psalm 91
I feel fear encroaching, even now. But no. I will not be afraid, for You are our Father. Amen.
So, what is the key to desire? How is it awakened? Should I simply make it a matter of prayer? Should I discipline myself and begin to act as one who desires, hoping that desperation will actually kick in?
No. Desire for God begins with God Himself. He, after all, is the Great Initiator. He created life in Genesis 1, and He continues to be the only life-giving power at work on the earth today. If I examine my heart, and find that the once blazing fires of desire have become lifeless coals, it is He who must come and hover over my soul’s darkness, working to bring forth life.
Poetic. So, how does this work?
A desire for the Lord begins with an encounter. Hunger and thirst for Him are only acquired when we have tasted and drunk of His abundance. He first finds us, and thus we begin our pursuit of Him. Funny, perhaps, and not quite the way we’d imagine it to work, but nonetheless, true.
Would we have desire? Then let us first become broken, emptied of our striving and self, and in contrition be still — waiting. The promise is that He is near to such humble hearts, and once He has drawn near, the beauty and awe-inspiring greatness of all He is will stir our hearts to passion and pursuit.
When my heart is far, come find me…
I have a vague memory of Dad preaching about desire and desperation several years ago. I don’t remember how long ago it was, or what all of the nuances were, but the main point was clear: If we want to continue in our walk and relationship with God, we have got to stay desperate with desire for Him. That truth went deep into my soul and resonated as my heart’s cry–and I haven’t forgotten it.
Today I was reminded of desire again when Tozer’s The Pursuit of God somehow found its way into my devotions. Tozer points to King David as a man whose life was a “torrent of spiritual desire,” and to Apostle Paul’s burning desire “to know Him…and count all thing loss.” I think of the primary example of this in my own life–my father: a man who has walked with the Lord for decades and has been granted more revelation and relationship than most of us dare to dream of, and yet continues to walk in humble desperation for the Lord, knowing that to stop and be content with yesterday’s portion would be the death of all spiritual growth. By his example of weekly hunger for the Lord, there has been raised up a congregation of believers who know that the deepest need of each moment is for more of God Himself. And so there is expectation for tomorrow, for we continue to pursue.
Tozer writes,
“If we would find God…we must first determine to find Him, and then proceed in the way of simplicity. Now, as always, God discovers Himself to ‘babes’ and hides Himself in thick darkness from the wise and prudent. We must simjplify our approach to Him. We mus strip down to essentials (and they will be found to be blessedly few.) We must put away all effort to impress, and come with the guileless candor of childhood. If we do this, without doubt God will quickly respond.”
Today this truth finds its resonation in my soul once again. Oh, how deeply I long to desire God! How I pray for a life that is lived in the pursuit of more, just as David’s, Paul’s, and my own father’s. Oh, to taste of Him and have my soul awakened to its desperate hunger and thirst that can only be satisfied by more!
“The man who has God for his treasure has all things in One. Many ordinary treasures may be denied him, or if he is allowed to have them, the enjoyment of them will be so tempered that they will never be necessary to his happiness. Or if he must see them go, one after one, he will scarcely feel a sense of loss, for having the Source of all things he has in One all satisfaction, all pleasure, all delight. Whatever he may lose he has actually lost nothing, for he now has it all in One, and he has it purely, legitimately, and forever.”
Lord, do a work in my heart. Renew my desire for You. Let me leave behind whatever has placated my soul. Allow me to, once again, count all things loss that I may know You.
So, I know… I was tagged but haven’t come through for you. I tried to get Ryan to oblige us, but he just smirked and said, in no uncertain terms, “NO.” I suppose he has a professional reputation on the internet or something, unlike the rest of us who just hang out here for fun.
I’ll do my best, real quick. I want to take a walk before the day is gone. (A random fact, by the way!)
1. People used to harrass me when I was little about my red hair and the temper they assumed was associated with it. This was actually quite serious. I believe it actually created an opportunity once for Mom to talk me through “blessing those who persecute you.” (Don’t laugh! Just think of strangers taunting you about a character flaw that you don’t even have! It’s awful!)
2. Many of you know this, but for those of you who don’t, I’ve shoplifted at least three times in recent history. What can I say. In the words of the last cashier who observed this unethical practice, “Ahh, she’s just a flake.”
3. I’ve had two pets in my life–a stray cat and a stray dog. They were removed from the premises of our house when they proved what my mother already knew: pets are way too much work.
4. I used to have a sticker book, which I would bring with me when I visited friends, and we would trade stickers back and forth. Ryan didn’t ever have one.
5. I’ve been in London, New Delhi, and Tokyo, but only gotten as far as the airports. What a waste of jetlag.
There. Done. Off for my walk!
P.S. Ryan says, “Can you please clarify the shoplifting thing?” This is how it works: I pick something up, and then get distracted, forgetting I ever took it. I walk out, and ten steps from the store the friend I’m with says, “Danica! Did you pay for that?” I turn beet red, slip back into the store to return the item, and sheepishly find my friend, hoping the cashiers aren’t laughing at me too much. It’s hard being an airhead, you know.