Is 59:19

So shall they fear the name of the LORD from the west, and his glory from the rising of the sun. When the enemy shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the LORD shall lift up a standard against him. [or, shall put him to flight]

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

letting go and cement

Probably you all wonder where I've been...lost in real life, not blogging at all. Well, all four of you :) I've been here...but I've been a little wounded at heart and not quite up to blogging. Besides being busy.

I don't know what wounded me, but I know what is healing my heart. God has been treating me with the tenderness of a physician who is also my father. Maybe that's what I like about Jesus so much. He is to me every sort of man I can need. He is my Father and my Brother and my King and even my Husband...all in a spiritual sense of course, but really, aren't we spiritual beings first? Where does all this grasping for physical things, for earthly things come from? Why do I want to cling to something that isn't Jesus?

Pretty much I've stopped grasping for anything. At least, that's what I'd like to think, what I want for my life. In some ways I think I'm learning to let go, in others, I still cling to those things I think will save me, forgetting that Jesus is the One Who was faithful to me when I doubted His essence. But I don't want to live clinging to the things that keep me in bondage: the money, this friendship, this potential friendship, a car, even America and "safety." I want to let go. And just trust that when I fall either Jesus will catch me and hold me in His arms or else I will discover in the end that hitting the cement was really the good thing, as crazy as that sounds. And anyway, isn't that meekness? Not grasping for anything, but accepting God's providence and will, whether it hurts or is not painful, whether it is slow plodding or you see progress, whether you abound or suffer need?

The problem is, when you do fall on the cement, it hurts like the dickens.
Maybe trusting enough to believe in goodness through the pain is what faith really means.
I don't know.
Please don't say I've done amazing things.
Please don't say I'm humble.
Please don't ask me not to cry.

Because I will cry. But I will also accept every single balm and sweet tender mercy He sends my way. I will receive joyfully the sunsets and the wind; these prairie heavens.

May I be permitted to love the Prairies till the day I die.

1 comment:

Jenna said...

I'm right along with ya, sister. This is the stage where you grit your teeth and bear the pain. It's a cleansing pain. A "refining fire" if you will, all because God wants us for his own. What a Love.