Implicit Trust

“If a man will resign himself in implicit trust to the Lord Jesus, he will find that He leads the wayfaring soul into the green pastures and beside the still waters, so that even when he goes hrough the dark valley of the shadow of some staggering episode, he will fear no evil. Nothing in life or death, time or eternity, can stagger a soul from the certainty of the Way, for one moment” (Oswald Chambers, Run Today’s Race).

That’s what I want — implicit trust in Jesus, no matter what. Lately, I find that my faith comes and goes like the ocean tides advancing and retreating, rising and ebbing. One moment, I am calm and collected and the next I am inwardly freaking out. Too often, my faith is too tied in to my emotions.

But the true saint of God has a steady faith. Or at least he or she is moving toward one. The hindrance to the necessary resignation of the soul to the ways of the Lord is the illusion of control that we cling to. The more I think I somehow can help God out or speed up His timeline, the more inclined I am to fret and worry.

I still love Corrie ten Boom’s imagery of staying on the train that’s going through a dark tunnel. Of course, you don’t leap off the train in the middle of the tunnel. You sit still and trust the engineer. But in the midst of life’s dark passages, it’s easy to want to go AWOL on God. But what’s the alternative? Lostness and the dark?

Lord, grow my faith. Help me to take my tiny mustard seed faith and put it in Your hands so that I can rest in Your promises and plans for me. Help me to know with my whole being that You are still working all things together for my good. Amen.

Fear

“It is said that before entering the sea
a river trembles with fear.

She looks back at the path she has traveled,
from the peaks of the mountains,
the long winding road crossing forests and villages.

And in front of her,
she sees an ocean so vast,
that to enter
there seems nothing more than to disappear forever.

But there is no other way.
The river can not go back.

Nobody can go back.
To go back is impossible in existence.

The river needs to take the risk
of entering the ocean
because only then will fear disappear,
because that’s where the river will know
it’s not about disappearing into the ocean,
but of becoming the ocean” (Khalil Gibran).

I’ve learned over the years that all fear is just looking at the future and seeing the mountain but not the Mountain Mover. It’s seeing the stormy waves but not seeing the One who walks on water. It’s basically looking at life’s problems and eliminating God from the equation.

I’ve also learned that 98% of what I worry about never happens. That dreaded scenario never takes place. I find that when I get to the place where my fear is greatest . . . and take one more step, that’s when God’s strength shows up in my weakness. God’s faithfulness shows up in my obedience, regardless of whether my motives are wholly pure or not.

“Jesus Christ is like a vast ocean, He is too immense to fully explore, and too rich to fathom. You are like a bottle. The wonder of the gospel is that the bottle is in the ocean, and the ocean is in the bottle” (Jesus Manifesto, Leonard Sweet and Frank Viola).

A Good Word from Micah

Quick question: when was the last time you heard a sermon from the little book of Micah? Or from any of the minor prophets? Just wondering.

I was reading Micah this afternoon in my quest to read through the Bible in a year (this year, I’m reading from the New English Bible). I’ll admit that most of what I read today wasn’t the most happy-go-lucky sort. After all, God was speaking through these prophets to a wayward and rebellious nation who refused to repent and come back to the God who had brought them out of Egypt and through the wilderness to their promised land (not that there are any parallels to this country, right?) But not all of it was dark and gloomy.

Here’s one section I read that I hope will uplift and encourage you as it did me.

Where is the god who can compare with you—
    wiping the slate clean of guilt,
Turning a blind eye, a deaf ear,
    to the past sins of your purged and precious people?
You don’t nurse your anger and don’t stay angry long,
    for mercy is your specialty. That’s what you love most.
And compassion is on its way to us.
    You’ll stamp out our wrongdoing.
You’ll sink our sins
    to the bottom of the ocean.
You’ll stay true to your word to Father Jacob
    and continue the compassion you showed Grandfather Abraham—
Everything you promised our ancestors
    from a long time ago” (Micah 7:18-20).

Note: I quoted from The Message a) because Bible Gateway doesn’t have the New English Bible as a translation and I was too lazy to type the whole thing and b) because Eugene Peterson’s rendering is pretty powerful in and of itself.

 

A Good Weekend

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As I stepped into my car to head home from a Sunday School class party, I could hear the hypnotic drone of cicadas and felt 10-years old again and ready for the next big adventure. That’s what life really is. At least for those who have their eyes open to appreciate the mystery and wonder in each gift God unwraps daily called life.

I still fondly remember running through the streets of downtown Nashville with my friend Katie to catch the next act at Live on the Green, Michael Franti. It was a moment I never imagined happening, yet if you were to ask what my all-time favorite moment was, this one would be climbing the charts. And no Gatorade ever tasted better than the ones from the Exxon convenience store on the way home.

How can I forget an impromptu Starbucks session of great conversation and good coffee drinks? I can’t remember two hours flying by that fast. It was yet another in a long line of unexpected treasures and blessings God has showered on me lately.

I remember Friday and Saturday in downtown Franklin, seeing some of my favorite McCreary’s people and savoring yet another beautiful summer night visiting my usual haunts and trekking my familiar path up and down Main Street. I especially recall how quiet it was in St. Paul’s Episcopal Church as I sat silent and still and expectant, waiting on a Word from God.

I finally fell asleep at 4:30 this morning after another night of tossing and turning. I think I’ll sleep better tonight. At least I hope I do. But even that time awake gave me time to reflect on all the little gifts that eucharisteo had opened my eyes to see.

I remember something my Sunday School teacher Derek Webster said. He said, “God believes in you even more than you do.”

I have to write that down somewhere. Oh yeah, I guess I just did. But I need it in a place where I can find it and see it every morning, because I know some mornings I’ll wake up and not be as excited to be alive. Those old self-doubts will creep in. The enemy will whisper, “See? Nobody really cares about you. No one would notice if you weren’t around. You don’t make one bit of difference to anybody.”

That’s when this Truth of God comes in. God says differently. To me. To you. To anyone who heard and followed the voice of Jesus. God said you do matter because I made you. Jesus said you matter because I thought you were to die for. You have a gift and a purpose that no one else ever in the history of mankind has ever had. Only you can play the part God wrote for you in the Great Romance He’s written out in history.

You being you makes God smile. You being who God created you is what the world around you needs to see more than any Billy Graham or Mother Teresa. You coming alive to your gifts and talents will be the ripple in the ocean whose effects will last far beyond your own lifetime.

Yep. All that from four days in August.

Starry Beach Nights

Tonight, I took a short walk on the beach. It was great.

I had a t-shirt and shorts and a flashlight, so I could avoid stepping on anything sharp or living. At least that was my plan and it worked well for the most part.

It was a beautiful night. There were more stars out than I have seen in a long time and a cool ocean breeze was blowing in my direction. The sand and ocean water felt good on my feet.

I was alone on the beach and I felt currents of peace wash over me. I didn’t walk very far or stay out there long, but I stayed long enough.

Sometimes, you just need to get away from all the noise and the distractions and the hurry and find a place where you can be still and quiet and breathe. It doesn’t have to be the beach, but a place where you feel peaceful and at rest. A place where you can hear the still small voice of God.

When I get back home, I will find mine. I know I need to hear from God on a daily basis to keep my sanity and to know what to do next. Sometimes, I need to be able to still the other voices that clamor and contradict each other and tell me every way to go but the right way.

My prayer is that both you and I find those places where God speaks. My prayer is that we have open ears to hear and willing hearts to obey what we hear.

I think I’ll sleep good tonight.