Living with a Consumed Heart

Go Deep

My favorite place to go is the seashore. I love hearing the sound of the water moving in rhythms I cannot trace and watching the whitecaps tumble over onto the sand. Not a strong swimmer, I prefer to sit and watch the tireless motion of the waves and content myself to stroll down the shoreline looking for shells left by the tide. But no matter how much time I have spent sitting and gazing at the watery horizon, I know so little about what the ocean is really like.

I mean, I can go the seashore and say that I have been to the ocean, and I would be correct. I can walk with the salty water washing in over my toes and say I have been in the ocean, and I would still be right. I can wade out where the whitecaps splash around my knees and proclaim that I have experienced the ocean without being in error.

However, the greater truth is that I have never known the mysterious wonders concealed in its murky waters. I have not felt the great billows crashing around me, or the surging currents driving me farther from the land. I have not felt the great pressure of its hidden depths or glimpsed the brilliant diversity of life swimming in the dark salty expanse. I have never felt the chill of its frigid darkness or touched the mountainous glaciers that form far from the sand on which I have stood. It is far more massive than I have seen, and it is deeper than I have fathomed. What I know of the ocean is so small compared to all that there is to discover.

So it is with Christ. I see Him in the ancient texts, walking on dusty roads and across rolling waves, feeding hungry men, and raising the dead as if it were no harder than inviting them to step out from their tombs. I listen carefully as red words fall from His lips like precious oil I weep as He bends to pray in a garden and hangs suspended between heaven and earth on a rough wooden cross. Oh, I know this Man Jesus.

I mean, I know Him. I have met Him at an old church altar years ago, and felt the instant cleanness that filled my consciousness as I was forgiven of my sins. I have known Him to be mercy and love when I was rejected and ashamed. I have sat with Him as my Companion in aloneness, and whispered His name when I was afraid. I have a history with Jesus that was forged in times of joy and seasons of sorrow, when the sun was bright and life was good, and when the night was cold and lasted far too long.

Do I know Him? Yes! No one could ever convince me otherwise!

Have I experienced the wonder of Him? Absolutely!

But I suspect that, like the ocean I claim to have known and experienced, I have merely been wading in the edge of His vastness. Like the Apostle Paul wrote in his epistle to the Philippians, I long to know the Lord in such an intimate fullness that all other things in life become nothing more than loss to me. [For my determined purpose is] that I may know Him [that I may progressively become more deeply and intimately acquainted with Him, perceiving and recognizing and understanding the wonders of His Person more strongly and more clearly], and that I may in that same way come to know the power outflowing from His resurrection [[b]which it exerts over believers], and that I may so share His sufferings as to be continually transformed [in spirit into His likeness even] to His death (Philippians 3:10, Amplified)

There are riches hidden in Christ that are so deep that they are UNSEARCHABLE! The only way to even begin to glimpse these deeper places is to boldly launch out from the shallow places of our Christian experience. Depth is found in a prayer closet where we intentionally engage His heart and allow Him to engage ours. It is found as we meditate on His words and lay the foundations of our faith in the truth found there. It is found in the awe of true worship.

You know, the boat that is sitting on the ocean’s edge, but tethered at the pier is fairly stable. The water moves it gently. However, when the ropes are undone and it is launched into the open waters, the billows toss it where they will and the current will take it far from the shore. There is a measure of safety in staying at the water’s edge, but the boat was not made for that. It was made for the deep waters. It will never fulfill its designed purpose tied to a dock. The deep places in your relationship with the Lord may feel less safe because the moorings that keep you tethered to the crowd must be cast off. To go deep, you must go alone. You must leave the shore behind to know Him most intimately.

Go deep anyway. Do not let yourself be content to stay on the wet sand of your salvation. Cast out into the deep waters. What you experience in Him will be worth the risk!

Pray with me?

Lord, we want to know You as fully as a person can know the infinite God. Draw us to Yourself and we will come to You. Show us Your wonders. We want to go deep in You.

Now I See

The man had carefully counted his steps and felt his way past houses to the place by the large building that he claimed as his spot early that day. Though the sun was shining brightly in the blue sky overhead, he settled himself on the soft dirt by the roadside in the same comfortable darkness he had always known. Begging was not what he would have chosen as a career, but the alms given by those walking to the temple brought in enough to buy food to eat. He sighed , leaned back against the building, and waited.

The day passed slowly as he listened to the shuffling feet of people walking toward the temple. A few coins fell onto the cloth spread before him as passersby tossed them down before hurrying on. He nodded his thanks before gathering them into the small bag tucked inside his robe for safekeeping. The crowd seemed to be in a hurry today, the pace of the narrow street was quicker than yesterday. That was fine with him, more people meant more coins.

Occasionally, the man caught snatches of excited chatter as people walked past him. Though they seldom spoke to him, he could not help but overhear words like “Messiah” and “miracles”spoken in hushed tones. He wiped the sweat from his brow and wondered who and what the people were so fired up about.

A sudden coolness told him that someone had stopped before his beggars cloth, standing between him and the hot sunshine. He listened as a voice asked whose fault it was that he had been born blind. He had heard conversations like this before and steeled himself for the stinging words that usually followed. He was shocked as the Man told the group He was with that there was no sin to blame for his condition. The kind words and gentle voice were a welcome surprise.

He felt more than heard the Man stoop before him and scoop up a handful of dirt. The air around him felt charged as He spat onto the small mound in His hand and smeared it on one sightless eye and then the other. The Man rose and grasped his hand firmly, pulling him to his feet. He could hear the smile in the voice that bid him, “Now go, wash in the pool Siloam.”

Slowly he walked down the street, feeling his way along buildings and counting steps. One corner, thirty steps, another corner, almost there. Finally, he heard the splashing water and knew he had reached his destination. Bending slowly and carefully, the man put his hand into the small pool of water and began washing away the mud that was drying on his face.

As he scrubbed the dirt away, he opened his eyes and squinted as brilliant light pierced the darkness that had been his home his entire life! He looked at his hands and turned them over watching the drops of water fall onto the stones below him. He jerked his head around and gazed in wonder as he heard a child laughing nearby. Turning his face toward the sky above him, he gasped at the azure expanse spread above. Trees stretched their limbs toward heaven and leaves gently swayed in the breeze.

Every direction he turned, wonders awaited his discovery. Tears welled up in his eyes. The impossible had happened and he could take no credit at all. He had not even known enough to ask, but the miracle had come to him. Messiah had not gone to the powerful rulers in the temple or the palace where the Roman prefect sat. He had come to him, to the dirt in which he sat, and gave him a gift no one else could have given–his sight.

This blind beggar did not know the Lord was walking by. He did not know enough to ask for his miracle. He was just sitting in the dirt on the fringe of a life that he could hear but in which he not fully participate or interact. He was limited by his disabilities and had no hope or expectation that anything would ever change. Jesus could have kept right on walking that day, and this guy would have been clueless that He had even passed. The most anyone would have expected was a coin to help a beggar. No one expected Him to stop and spit on the ground. Certainly, no one expected Messiah to take notice of and bend in concern over a helpless blind man.

This account moves my heart, because I can identify with this man. I was going through the motions of life, blind to the presence of God and His love. I did not know enough to cry out for Him to change my life. I was just feeling my way along the highways and byways of life, hoping for a little mercy that I could not earn. That is when Jesus stooped down to help me.

There was no reason Jesus should have concerned Himself with me. I wasn’t important. I wasn’t even expectant. But Jesus stooped down low to show compassion on me. He took the dirt of my situation and put Himself in the middle of my mess. He did not shy away from my limitations, my brokenness, or my immaturity. He just drew near to me, spiritually blind and powerless as I was, and opened my eyes to His glory.

And you know what He gained from that? Just me. The Lord just got me–but I got eternity, a waiting heaven, a glory that floods my life. He has afforded me love I could not earn, kindness I cannot deserve, and a revelation of a God bigger than my life can hold. I definitely got the better end of that deal.

So please excuse me if you see me celebrating and making some noise about what He has done for me. I am the recipient of a miracle. It is not just a song that I sing, it is my testimony. Now I see.

♫Amazing grace

How sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me

I once was lost

But now I’m found

Was blind, but now I see ♫

Behold the Man

Behold the Man. The words leapt off the page of my Bible in my early morning devotion before work. I was reading the message given by the prophet Zechariah to the High Priest Joshua. The prophet was told to make two crowns, one for Joshua’s head and the other for a memorial reminder in the temple that was under reconstruction. That was a strange place to put a crown– on a priest’s head. High Priests didn’t wear crowns; Kings wore crowns. However, the symbolic act pointed to the coming Messiah, both Priest and King, Who would build the true dwelling place that God desired.

Behold the Man. As I glanced at the clock and realized that I needed to move or risk being late getting started for my day, the words echoed through my mind. I remembered another man standing in front of an angry crowd and gesturing to the bloodied figure of Jesus, beaten and bruised and wearing a crown of thorns pressed onto His brow as he shouted the same phrase. Did the scribes and scholars in the crowd that day gasp at the praetor’s choice of words? Did their minds go back to that ancient text and the implication of the command?

Behold the Man. I drove down the familiar road, passing silent houses thinly veiled in the morning fog. I thought about how my own prayers at times seem like a litany of requests than an ongoing conversation. Give me this. Do that. Change the situation. Move the obstacles I face. How often had I muttered hurried words and failed to consider Who I was truly addressing?

Behold the Man. The day’s pace quickened and I hurried trying to catch it. Frustration caused my shoulders to tense as plans changed and increasing demands were made on my attention. Anger seethed beneath the surface of my calm demeanor and I caught myself whispering almost reflexively, “Lord, help me.” Quieting my heart, I made the decision to intentionally lean into the prophet’s words. I felt peace slip over me as I slowed down long enough to consider the Lord.

Behold the Man. That night as sleep evaded my weary mind, I quietly moved from my bed to the recliner and lifted my thoughts higher. I did not need to rehash the day one more time or go over ideas on how to make things better. I did not need to analyze conversations or examine the motives of those with whom I had interacted. My day with its busy activity and my life with its worrisome uncertainties could not change the faithful stability of the Lord in my life. I just needed to behold the Man.

May I invite you to join me as I gaze at Him?

Behold the Man.

The High Priest tempted as I but without yielding to sin, fully understanding my weakness.

The Author and Finisher of my faith, writing my story with the pen of His love

The Lamb of God carrying my sins on His bloody cross.

The Bread of Heaven that satisfies the deepest longings of my soul.

The Good Shepherd watching over me with His protective gaze.

The Vine to which I am connecting and from Whom I draw strength.

The Way, the Truth, and the Life guiding and empowering me as I lean into Him.

The Resurrection promising to breathe new life into my broken dreams.

The Light of the world illuminating the darkness of the road ahead of me.

The Prince of peace Who breathes calm into the storms in my heart.

The greatest need of my life is to simply Behold the Man.

Love Story

Can I tell you how my love story began? It started with the bitter taste of abandonment in my mouth. The man to whom I was committed walked out my kitchen door and slammed it shut, and seventeen years of marriage abruptly ended. I was wounded and bleeding from my heart, full of self-doubt and grief, shaking in terror at the thought of raising my sons alone.

In that dark and painful moment, my love story truly began. I sensed more than saw Jesus walk in and sit down with me at my kitchen table. I wept and He wept with me. I struggled and He reassured me. I reminded Him of my insecurities, He reminded me that He would be with me. I told Him how weak I really was, He told me that He created galaxies and planets and kept them in orbit. My future, though I could not see farther than the next moment, was secure in His holy hands.

I had been a Christian for many years, but that day I absolutely fell in love with my God. He was not some distant deity that I had to approach though ritual or perfect behaviors. He was closer than my breath, and even knowing me completely, He still loved me with steadfast, fiery passion.

I would love to tell you that God snapped His fingers and healed my wounded soul instantly. He didn’t. Instead, He came and fellowshipped with me over and over, whispering love and revealing Himself to me through His word. Slowly, I was healed by the oil of His presence being poured into my life repeatedly until my heart stopped aching and my smile became real again.

There is a peculiar sweetness to be found in an intimate relationship with the Lord that will ruin a person for lesser delights. The God Who meets us in our brokenness is worth far more than any passing interest that could catch our eye with its glittering promises. Our souls were made to love Him. The poetic cadence in the Song of Solomon lends words to the passion of this most intimate of yearnings. The maiden whispers her words of love:

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine! (Song 1:2)

As we journey into this deep relationship with God, His words become kisses–tokens of His love for us. The pages of scripture begin to yield unveiled glimpses of the heart of God. We see emotions that are higher and deeper than we can fathom.

We witness Him yearning for fellowship with Adam in a garden only to be heartbroken at man’s betrayal and separation from Him. We discover a God Who grieves over sin and the pollution of the heart of men as He sends judgment on Noah’s world. We watch as He steps into the dust and leans into the friendship of Abraham, lingering to discuss His purposes and plans as He looks toward Sodom. We listen as He thunders His glory from Sinai, declaring His name to Moses. We witness His compassion as He walks the dusty streets of Israel healing lepers and feeding the hungry crowds. We behold love that is breathtaking as He shoulders our sin and allows Roman soldiers to nail them and Himself on a cross. (Just in case I was unclear, I really am saying that Jesus is God.) His words become kisses as He breathes life into the written scriptures for us.

The longer we walk with Him, the more we will realize that His love for us is far better than any pleasure that this world can offer us. The wine of worldly temptations is far less tempting once we have tasted the superior pleasure of God’s affections. Even those things that our society labels blessings are less intoxicating than the joy of knowing Him in a deeper, fuller way. His love is better than wine.

David the psalmist knew it. He wrote: The secret [of the sweet, satisfying companionship] of the Lord have they who fear (revere and worship) Him, and He will show them His covenant and reveal to them its [deep, inner] meaning. (Psalms 25:14)

Moses knew it. He cried out in the wilderness, “If Your Presence does not go with us, do not bring us up from here.” He knew that it was better to stay in the dry, barren wilderness with God than to enter into a promised land of plenty without Him. (Exodus 33:15)

Paul knew it. He prayed that the first century believers “may have the power and be strong to apprehend and grasp with all the saints [the experience of that love] what is the breadth and length and height and depth [of it];[That you may really come] to know [practically, through experience for yourselves] the love of Christ, which far surpasses mere knowledge [without experience]” (Ephesians 3:18-19)

And let me be bold enough to confess to you, I know it too. He has proven His love for me over and over in my prayer closet and in my devotional time. He has kept me every step of my journey. I am my Beloved’s, and He is mine. (Song 6:3)

Jesus loves me. This is my love story.

Pray with me?

Lord, we love You, but we want to love You more. We want to experience Your love and to fellowship with You in deep and intimate ways. Sometimes our lives are so busy and cluttered with things that will not matter when we stand before You. We ask for you to draw us away from our distractions. Draw us to Yourself. Write our love story with You.

Perspective

The streets of Jerusalem were more crowded than normal that day. Jews from every region had come to celebrate the Feast of Tabernacles (John 7). Jesus’ name was on everyone’s lips and the topic of much whispered rumor. Could He be the long awaited Messiah? Was He the one who would deliver the people from their hated Roman invaders? The people debated his qualifications to fulfill the role, while the scribes and pharisees decried His character. The one thing no one could do, however, was ignore this charismatic Teacher who was turning the people’s hearts toward heaven.

I suspect the reason that the people could not plainly see Who Jesus was that day had something to do with their perspective. The religious elite of Jesus’ day interpreted the Old Testament scriptures describing the reign of Christ through a distorted lens of their own desires. They read how Messiah would establish David’s throne, inherit the nations, and destroy His enemies–and Jesus will do that when He comes again as the King of Kings during the millenial reign. However, they misinterpreted His purposes because they overlooked His humility (Zech 9:9), how He would be wounded for the sins of man in substitution for our punishment (Is 53), and that He would be pierced as hands and feet were nailed to the cross (Ps 22:16).

They valued the idea of a Messiah Who was a political leader operating in the POWER of God, but rejected One Who was a spiritual leader manifesting the CHARACTER of God. Because they looked through the lens of their own agenda, they missed God in their midst.

Jesus said in Mt 13:13, “seeing, they see not,” rendered in the Amplified Bible as “having the power of seeing, they do not see.” These men had the ability to see and understand, but willfully chose not to in order to justify their own viewpoint.

It is easy to stand on this end of history and censure these men, but really we as Christians can fall into the same trap so easily. In our society, we have been fed for many years a diet of messages telling us that God wants us to have MORE–more money, more prestige, more creature comforts. We have been taught to look at God through the lens of our agendas and our desires.

We have heard time after time scriptures like Phil 4:19 that say that “God will supply all our need through His riches in glory by Christ Jesus”, but neglected to consider that this powerful truth was said in the context of a church that had given lavishly to advance the gospel and care for others even though they were suffering severe persecution and deep poverty themselves(2 Cor 8). We have been fed the principle that God wants us to “prosper and be in health” (3 Jn 1:2) without considering what it means for our “soul to prosper”.

The lens of our personal comfort and desires can distort our view of God and warp the revelation of His word. God is no genie in a bottle who pops out to give us what we want and then goes back in until we need Him again. Don’t ask for more of Him, then expect Him to cooperate with our plans and conform to our purposes when He shows up. He will not come into our lives and fit into our agendas. God is God. He didn’t fit in the temple when Isaiah saw Him, and He doesn’t fit inside our religious expectations.

When you ask for more of Him, God really will answer–but He will do so as a Consuming Fire in your prayer closet. He will burn up vain teachings through time in your Bible. He will reveal selfish ambitions and cleanse impure motivations, but it isn’t always an comfortable process. We can only receive what we can accommodate. Any area of our life we invite Him to inhabit must be stretched to accommodate Him, and stretching can hurt.

God really does want us to have MORE…more of Him, more of His character formed inside us, more of the power of Christ in our lives. I want to see God, not my version of Him. I want the real deal Jesus. I want to have the ability to see, and then I want to choose to do it. What I really need is a right perspective.

Pray with me, Saints?
Father, I want more of You. I want to know Who You really are. Your words and ways are so much higher than mine that I can’t reach them without Your help. I ask in Jesus’ Name, make me more than I am so I may have more of You. Make me what You need me to be so You can do what You want to do in my generation. Give me eyes to see.

Night Song

I sat beneath the stars
and thought of the universe
Hidden in day by golden light
but now exposed by velvet night

Vast and wide and bright
With planets, moons, and comets
And all the wonders of creation
Reaching far beyond my imagination

Shouting loudly through darkness
the glory and splendor and power
So I sit in awe and consider
The greatness of the One Who is Creator

I stand in the midst of all He envisioned
sunsets behind me and sunrise before
Minutes and hours turning to days
A framework of years marking my ways

I breathe an atmosphere
Formed when He spoke
Transforming chaos to order
From a world clothed in water

I dance in the tension
of this world’s gravity
And the voice of the Father
Ever drawing me heavenward

I am one with Creation
Adoring our Creator
Bowing and bending,
In Him I live and move and have my being

Tonight I sat beneath the stars
and sang of the universe
And the God whose voice formed all I see
While He sat in heaven singing over me.

Surprised by the Lord

The wind blows (breathes) where it wills; and though you hear its sound, yet you neither know where it comes from nor where it is going. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit. (John 3:8)

If God surprises you, will you still receive Him? Nicodemus was a leader of the Pharisees. He had something to lose if his peers knew that he had gone to visit with Jesus, so he went at night when no one could see. He expected a Messiah Who would come with political clout and overthrow the oppressive Roman conquerors. He had no paradigm of a God Who walks in the dirt with common men and carried their sins on His shoulders. In John 3:11 Jesus testifies of Nicodemus’ faith, “You receive not our witness. ” Though he came to talk to Jesus by night, his faith was not saving faith. He was surprised by the Messiah he found, and responded with questions and doubts.

In sharp contrast, twelve men in a boat responded in a far different way. The disciples were rowing across the Sea of Galilee at night, fighting the wind for every yard they gained. As they looked up, they saw a shape moving across the water in their direction. They cried in terror not realizing that it was Jesus strolling toward their boat atop the waves. Hearing their cry, Jesus assured them, “Take courage! It is I, be not afraid.” The disciples then WILLINGLY received Him into their boat. (John 6:21) Jesus surprised the disciples, but their response to Him was one of faith.

If the Lord surprises us, how will we respond? For several years, it seemed the church had this idea of what it was going to look like when the Lord showed up. It was going to be a crazy, off the hook church service where everyone danced and shouted, but still got out of the building in time to get to the restaurant before the crowd showed up. The Lord’s blessing and favor meant a bigger house, a newer car, and promotions that we didn’t deserve. It meant we were going to live a life where the world celebrated us and sought our pleasure.

But what if God surprises us? What if He shows up outside the walls of our churches? What if He goes to inmates who are crying in repentance? What if He goes to the unknown intercessors praying alone in their bedrooms?

In fact, what if He shows up inside the walls of the sanctuary and does not really care if we make it out in time for lunch? What if He says on a Sunday morning, “Just lay down your dignity and stay here in front of Me with your face on the carpet and let Me be your Bread”?

What if He shows up and isn’t really all that interested in us having more stuff? What if He is more interested in having more of us? And those promotions and the favor of men, what if He prefers us to go low or asks us to walk in the fire with Him?

Church, we need to check our expectations of God at the door. Isaiah saw Him high and lifted up and just the fringes of His robe was too big for the temple, the place of Isaiah’s religious expectations (Isaiah 6:1). God still doesn’t fit in our little boxes. Holy Spirit is still like the wind. Jesus is still likely to call us to pick up a cross and lay down our comfort. So I ask you again, if the Lord surprises you–if He offends your sensibilities, challenges your paradigm, or asks you to trade your dreams for His, will you still receive Him?

Pray with me?

Lord, we come in Jesus’ name and ask, move us beyond our comfortable places. We just want You. Everywhere that our will is different than Yours, we give You permission to put us back on the Potter’s wheel and remold us. The Spirit and the Bride cry together, Come, Lord Jesus. We will choose You. Whatever it looks like, come.

The Net

The net was heavy and wet in his fingers. Peter felt the knots that were so familiar to his hands and looked down at the wound fibers. He saw the jagged areas, the rips that he had carefully mended. He remembered the time spent each morning washing and cleaning it so that when evening came he would be ready to fish again.

Peter knew how to handle the bulky fishing nets. He understood how to hold them and the way to flick his wrist so the fabric would open fully when thrown into the dark waters of the lake. He even had a pretty good idea about where to release it because that is the place fish would be swarming.

He thought about how the net was a symbol of his responsibilities. The fishing business he worked with his brother Andrew would be a legacy to pass to his own children someday. The net with its shiny hauls of wiggling fish had provided a living for himself and his wife. As long as he had a net, Peter was confident in his ability to sustain his family’s needs.

In some ways, the net was a sense of security for the rough Galilean fisherman. His skill in using it had given him some independence. Instead of finding someone to employ him, Peter had made his own way with his boat. Because fishing was best done at night, he did not have to labor in the sun’s heat as some men did. When conditions were right, Peter fished. When storms whipped the lake’s depths into a fury, he left his nets folded and took the night off.

The net represented Peter’s future. With skill, planning, and a little bit of good luck, the fishing business would provide for him and his family for many years to come. Money tucked away from plenteous seasons would keep him comfortable even if scarcity came to the land. He had even toyed with the idea of purchasing other boats and nets, a fleet of fishing vessels to ensure his prosperity.

These nets had been his life. Peter glanced up from the wet fabric knots in his hand and met the steady gaze of the Man standing before him. Jesus stood there brown eyes glistening with confidence and an easy smile on his face, as if He knew the thoughts crossing Peter’s mind. The invitation to walk away from all the fisherman had known lay heavy in the air between them.

Jesus had come onto the scene in Israel like a Man from another world. His teaching seemed to peel back the layers of tradition and reveal the heart of God Himself. Wonders attended His steps and impossibilities melted at His presence. Peter stood for a long minute with his nets held tightly. How could he give up the familiar, the secure, the responsibility the net represented to follow Jesus? How could he live with the regret if he did not? Glancing over at his brother, Peter gave a quick nod and began folding the fabric quickly. Throwing it into the boat beside them, the brothers stepped out of the waters and into their destiny.

When Jesus invited Peter and Andrew to follow Him, He knew what their commitment would cost them. He also knew that the payout was far greater than the brothers could imagine. They did not know what the road ahead of them looked like, but Jesus did and that was enough.

Jesus said to follow so they did! Laying down the familiar and comfortable, they embraced a new way of life that challenged all they had learned and considered true about God and man. They willingly laid down the security they could have held for themselves and their families and chose to trust God to take care of them. They gave up the nets for a faith that had set its anchor in eternity. Following Jesus, they walked all the way to Calvary and far beyond–casting the net of the gospel as long as they lived. They became fishers of men.

I have often marvelled at the kind of faith these men showed–marvelled and longed for such abandoned trust. You see, every now and then, I catch a glimpse of Him too. He is standing near with His brown eyes confident and His hand outstretched in invitation. He positions Himself near the familiar, comfortable ruts that keep me positioned to take care of my own future and the responsibilities I have carried. He knows my nets are not like Peter’s, but just as surely they keep me in the confines of sensibility and out of the deep places of faith.

I know what society expects of me. I know how to make the common sense decisions that rule out steps of outrageous faith. I can make a plan and fix my busy schedule so that I feel productive. These are familiar roles and expectations. Other may see my job, my position, my reputation, my five-year plan, my retirement, my possessions–but I know well that they are the lesser things.

These things feel like responsibility. They feel like security. They feel like independence, but they are only nets. They are ordinary, comfortable, and convenient. In my spirit, I find myself feeling a dissatisfaction for this lesser life. A restlessness stirs me onward, yearning for the deep places of faith where wonders and revelations wait. I do not know what the path ahead looks like, but Jesus does and that is enough. I choose to follow Him.

Have you felt that stirring inside you lately? Do you yearn for something more in your life? Pray with me.

Lord, we come to You in faith. We offer You our ordinary lives and ask for them to be filled with the extraordinary presence of You. We have decided to follow You, Jesus, no matter what the path looks like. We choose to fold our nets and walk on with You wherever You may lead.

Drink Deep

“Will you give me a drink?” Jesus’ voice had surprised the woman that day. She had come with a water jar and a reputation to the well just outside of Sychar. She had timed her midday water run in an attempt to avoid the gossipping whispers and judgmental glances of the other ladies in the town. Finding a lone Jewish Rabbi sitting by the side of the well was an unwelcome intrusion into her self-enforced solitude.

The discussion that followed navigated its way through many issues until it touched the very heart of the woman. Jews and Samaritans, her lifestyle and the decisions she had made, and even the proper place and way to worship God were brought to bear in that brief conversation. Finally, the choice was hers to make. She could pick up her water jar and walk back into town holding tight to her long-held traditions and the wounds that experience had given her and life would continue as she had known it.

The alternative was a divine invitation to step into faith, to lay down the ordinary for the extraordinary. She could give plain, ordinary water in exchange for a spiritual life that would be like living water, satisfying the inner need that had driven her behavior for far too long. She could lay down the fear and sense of failure that had dogged her steps for a bold confidence in God that would change her trajectory in life. That moment at the well changed everything.

Her old wells had left her broken and thirsty, but she had found new life when she met Jesus. When she hurried back to town, she was no longer the stained woman who had left it that morning. Now, she was a recipient of the extravagant grace and love of the God Who did not flinch at the sight of her mess.

I cannot tell you how many times this same narrative has played out in my life. I come to the presence of God so tired sometimes, wearied by the difficulty of the season through which I am walking. I carry the stains of my mistakes and missteps. I struggle with questions and emotions that do not want to line up with what my faith declares. I am just doing what I have to do to survive when He meets me at my well. He never comes to me in anger that I have not been more, bigger, better. He does not come chiding me for having defective faith or weaker devotion than I should.

Instead, He comes with a smile and asks for a drink of the water I will draw from the well of my salvation. I offer weak praise and He gives me strength. I sing an old hymn and He fills my soul with renewed vitality. I whisper my affections and He shouts His passionate love back to me. I give Jesus plain, ordinary me and in exchange I get Him, the extraordinary Son of God standing by my well with eyes like fire and feet like burnished brass.

It is my intention that the Lord never find me vying for the attention of men, performing for applause, or climbing some ladder seeking acclaim or position. Instead, I want Him to find me at the side of the well drinking deep of His living water. You see, I am the recipient of the extravagant grace and love of the God Who never flinches at my mess.

Will you pray with me?

Lord, we come to You thirsty. Only You can ever satisfy our great need. We will draw water from the well of our salvation and offer You our praise. We lay down the struggles we have faced this week in front of You and receive the joy of Your wonderful love.

He is Enough

Can I be transparent with you? I really do not have it all together all the time. Sometimes, I tend to be reactive to my circumstance instead of responsive to God’s quickening. I open my mouth and give voice to doubt when I should stay silent. I value comfort far more than I should. But even with all my faults and frailties, the way that the Lord responds to me is just all out of proportion.

I mean, I hide myself in my prayer closet (and by that, I mean that I get on my face in my bedroom floor) and the Lord comes into the room with His splendor and glory! He meets me there and shakes my world like He did Sinai’s rugged summit for Moses. God, majestic and powerful, comes to fellowship with ME in my frailty. His response to my weak display of love is all out of proportion!

Truthfully, God responds to me that way consistently. I ask what I should do about a situation, and He floods my world with golden light. When I am overwhelmed by life and cry out that I am in over my head, He strolls out on the stormy sea in which I am sinking and pulls me out of the waves. If I miss the mark as I am so prone to do, as soon as I humble my heart toward repentance His grace and forgiveness rush in like a flood to wash me clean. His response to me is ALWAYS crazy out of proportion!

He gives more than I deserve. He does more than I expect. And I suspect that your testimony is pretty much the same–that in your frailty, the Lord is strong. In your smallness, He is immense. In your dark places, He is brilliant. It is part of Who He is. He is more.

The Apostle Paul reveals this propensity of God in Romans 5. Paul wrote that even though sin entered the world by Adam’s fall and every person born was under the power of that sin nature, God’s grace was like a tsunami wave in response- overwhelming, overflowing, enough and more than enough for all we need! What Jesus accomplished on Calvary was absolutely ENOUGH. His atonement was enough for all the sins of all humanity for all time! His blood was ENOUGH for you, Child of God!

Have you been walking under the weight of insufficiency lately? Have you felt that you just did not measure up? Have you felt like were not smart, educated, gifted, or a hundred other adjectives enough? Have you even said, “How could God ever use someone like me to reach others with the Gospel?”

The Lord does not ask for you to be perfect, or even just more than you are. No, God is not looking for perfect vessels to send. He only looks for a willing heart through which He can demonstrate His overwhelming grace and mercy. The gospel of Jesus is the good news about God reaching to the low and the broken in love. That is my story. Isn’t that yours too?

So I want to invite you to lay down any condemnation or pressure to perform. Just hold out your small hands and let the tidal wave of God’s love pour through you to the world around you. Let the people around you see the real you pointing their gaze to the real Him. He is ENOUGH!

Will you pray with me?

Father, we are astounded at You. Your love is so overwhelming. We offer our selves willingly to You even in our weakness. You are enough for us. We want to be light and salt to the world around us for Your glory.