It's one of those things that I've always struggled with and a friend showed me something she had written that really made me stop and smile and ponder the paradox once again...
The little girl peeked into the room - eyes wide. And she was right to be amazed, for she was looking into the very throne room of God Almighty! All around she saw angels, cherubim, seraphim and other beings whose only task was to glorify God. They were fantastic to behold and so totally foreign to the little girl that she shrunk back. Then she saw what they were doing. All of the array of angels and creatures in the little girl's view were doing exactly the same thing - they were bowing down and crying out, "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty!"
Finally the little girl's attention was caught by the one she'd come looking for. On His throne that I looked as if it were made of sapphire was God Almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth, and He was beckoning to her. The little girl squealed and ran to Him - heedless of the countless others in the room. The Lord laughed as He called her name and scooped her up in His arms. His voice - like the sound of rushing water - and her little bell-like laugh blended into each other to create one of His favourite sounds - Joy and Love. "I love you, my little princess," He said as He sat back down, still holding her in His arms. His attention was all hers as she smiled up into His face. "I love you too," she replied as she snuggled into His lap - completely content.
{by Bethany Unrau}
Come in awe and yet with confidence... what a mystery.
One that we're called to revel in.
Thursday, April 18
Friday, April 5
In Easter
Just as I wrote about in my last post, recently I've been learning a lot about what it means to be not enough.
And as I headed home for Easter weekend, I fell under the illusion (as I have a tendency to do) that God is chained to the places that I've encountered Him.
So often I can come into His presence with greater ease when it's a familiar place that when entered brings back memories of lessons in the past that He's taught me.
As a result, when I switch places, I have to go through the whole mental game of reminding myself that He is with me everywhere I go.
The weekend was great. But as I entered church on Easter Sunday morning, I was feeling dimly lit, as if I hadn't encountered God the way that I wanted to during this season. As if I couldn't feel Him.
But as the service went by, it was if the common thread of His lessons to me recently was whispered in my head over and over again.
Easter is all about not being enough.
The reason He came? The reason He died?
I am not enough. But He is.
There is no way that I can face a holy God with anything in my hands that would convince Him to let me near His perfectness.
I am filth from the inside out, coated in the molasses texture of sins that I have deluded myself are not really that bad.
Coming into His presence while those drip off of me and pollute the white halls of His holiness?
Not going to happen.
And so He sent His Son. The only One who was enough.
That One who is everything, became nothing so that I might become whole.
And as we dyed Easter eggs, turning them from white to scribbled with hope,
I realized afresh how He takes one life and not only justifies (declares not guilty),
but in His good will, chooses to sanctify that life.
Taking the little moments of each day, the trials and the heartache, the joys and delights,
And crafts each on of us into something that He delights in.
Something that brings Him glory.
I am not enough. I could never do this on my own.
But He can. And He does.
And that's why there's Easter.
And as I headed home for Easter weekend, I fell under the illusion (as I have a tendency to do) that God is chained to the places that I've encountered Him.
So often I can come into His presence with greater ease when it's a familiar place that when entered brings back memories of lessons in the past that He's taught me.
As a result, when I switch places, I have to go through the whole mental game of reminding myself that He is with me everywhere I go.
The weekend was great. But as I entered church on Easter Sunday morning, I was feeling dimly lit, as if I hadn't encountered God the way that I wanted to during this season. As if I couldn't feel Him.
But as the service went by, it was if the common thread of His lessons to me recently was whispered in my head over and over again.
Easter is all about not being enough.
The reason He came? The reason He died?
I am not enough. But He is.
There is no way that I can face a holy God with anything in my hands that would convince Him to let me near His perfectness.
I am filth from the inside out, coated in the molasses texture of sins that I have deluded myself are not really that bad.
Coming into His presence while those drip off of me and pollute the white halls of His holiness?
Not going to happen.
And so He sent His Son. The only One who was enough.
That One who is everything, became nothing so that I might become whole.
And as we dyed Easter eggs, turning them from white to scribbled with hope,
I realized afresh how He takes one life and not only justifies (declares not guilty),
but in His good will, chooses to sanctify that life.
Taking the little moments of each day, the trials and the heartache, the joys and delights,
And crafts each on of us into something that He delights in.
Something that brings Him glory.
I am not enough. I could never do this on my own.
But He can. And He does.
And that's why there's Easter.
Tuesday, March 26
All
It seems as if it's only on my Eeyore days that I blog... either that or days when there is quiet.
Or maybe it's simply because it seems like in every moment, I am being taught new things and if I kept a list to blog about, I would never get around to it.
Anywhos...
Recently, I was approached with a position for next year that requires leadership on my knees... and as I was contemplating the delightful burden that will be laid upon me next year, there was one devotional time where I was thinking about all that could happen and all that could fail and I reached a point.
A point where I had to say, "There is absolutely nothing in me that can inspire a dorm full of girls towards passionate prayer."
And a moment later, I whispered the words that He showed me. I whispered, "But that's the whole point, isn't it? That I can't. I am utterly unable. But you are totally capable. You can."
All He's looking for is a vessel. A person who is willing to be used even in ways that may seem ridiculous. Someone willing to hang on His every word and to move in His ways.
In leadership, I am called to be lead by a greater Leader. I am called to humility.
Over the last few days as I've been praying more and mulling things over, there was a time when He seemed to bop me over the head and say, "Umm.. excuse me? Isn't that what I've called you to do in every part of your life?"
Somehow I fall into the disillusion that I can do it all. That somehow I take what He teaches me and apply it to my life and get wisdom from Him and apply it in my life, and that's a part of it, but I've forgotten the part of letting go.
Of drawing near, so that I disappear and He appears in every action, thought and word. All I'm supposed to be is a human skin willing to be moved by His voice.
I used to think those people who were so attuned to Him were taking it a little too seriously and leaving fun behind, but there is no way that someone can claim to be consumed with God if they're not willing to lay down everything.
And you know what? There is so much joy, so much foundation, so much rightness when He's the center of everything.
There's no way that I've got things figured out - and there's such a paradox between me carrying out the work that He has laid before me and letting His Spirit move, but when I'm in His presence, it all sorts itself out.
I'm called to transparency, so that He may become apparent.
I'm called to nothingness, so that He may be all.
"Each time he said, "My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness." So now i am glad to boast about my weakness, so that the power of Christ can work through me." {2 Corinthians 12:9}
{Just found this song today and thought that it's so often what I miss when coming into His presence - to be a little child in my Father's arms}
Or maybe it's simply because it seems like in every moment, I am being taught new things and if I kept a list to blog about, I would never get around to it.
Anywhos...
Recently, I was approached with a position for next year that requires leadership on my knees... and as I was contemplating the delightful burden that will be laid upon me next year, there was one devotional time where I was thinking about all that could happen and all that could fail and I reached a point.
A point where I had to say, "There is absolutely nothing in me that can inspire a dorm full of girls towards passionate prayer."
And a moment later, I whispered the words that He showed me. I whispered, "But that's the whole point, isn't it? That I can't. I am utterly unable. But you are totally capable. You can."
All He's looking for is a vessel. A person who is willing to be used even in ways that may seem ridiculous. Someone willing to hang on His every word and to move in His ways.
In leadership, I am called to be lead by a greater Leader. I am called to humility.
Over the last few days as I've been praying more and mulling things over, there was a time when He seemed to bop me over the head and say, "Umm.. excuse me? Isn't that what I've called you to do in every part of your life?"
Somehow I fall into the disillusion that I can do it all. That somehow I take what He teaches me and apply it to my life and get wisdom from Him and apply it in my life, and that's a part of it, but I've forgotten the part of letting go.
Of drawing near, so that I disappear and He appears in every action, thought and word. All I'm supposed to be is a human skin willing to be moved by His voice.
I used to think those people who were so attuned to Him were taking it a little too seriously and leaving fun behind, but there is no way that someone can claim to be consumed with God if they're not willing to lay down everything.
And you know what? There is so much joy, so much foundation, so much rightness when He's the center of everything.
There's no way that I've got things figured out - and there's such a paradox between me carrying out the work that He has laid before me and letting His Spirit move, but when I'm in His presence, it all sorts itself out.
I'm called to transparency, so that He may become apparent.
I'm called to nothingness, so that He may be all.
"Each time he said, "My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness." So now i am glad to boast about my weakness, so that the power of Christ can work through me." {2 Corinthians 12:9}
{Just found this song today and thought that it's so often what I miss when coming into His presence - to be a little child in my Father's arms}
Monday, March 4
In A Milestone
Another year gone and past, and I sit here in amazement, shaking my head at all that He's brought me through.
Read this verse this morning:
"But whatever I am now, it is all because God poured out his special favor on me -- and not without results. For I have worked harder than any of the other apostles; yet it was not I but God who was working through me by his grace." (1 Cor. 15:10, NLT)
And wrote this:
Looking back, there is no way that I can take credit for the place I am spiritually. I would've never chosen of myself to go through suffering or hardships and yet it's all because of them that I'm in the place I am today. Good thing it's in His hands and not mine!
And I could be all verbose and wonderfully descriptive, and bring tears to your eyes because of His goodness (okay, I could only attempt and hope, but still...), but there's nothing more to say.
He is good.
And He is faithful.
Read this verse this morning:
"But whatever I am now, it is all because God poured out his special favor on me -- and not without results. For I have worked harder than any of the other apostles; yet it was not I but God who was working through me by his grace." (1 Cor. 15:10, NLT)
And wrote this:
Looking back, there is no way that I can take credit for the place I am spiritually. I would've never chosen of myself to go through suffering or hardships and yet it's all because of them that I'm in the place I am today. Good thing it's in His hands and not mine!
And I could be all verbose and wonderfully descriptive, and bring tears to your eyes because of His goodness (okay, I could only attempt and hope, but still...), but there's nothing more to say.
He is good.
And He is faithful.
Tuesday, February 26
Love
Love.
It's a concept that He's been bringing to my mind a lot recently in terms of both relationships and lifestyle.
I'm one of these people who focuses on what I can accomplish, on a checklist of ideals to finish off for a day, who gets together with people so I feel as if I've contributed enough to that relationship for awhile, so now I can slack.
But He isn't like that.
Love is not something that can be contained. Love does not slack. Love never ends.
The first time I was struck by this was during the Alumni soccer weekend, when I took some time to be alone in my dorm room and do my devos.
My own theme verse that I had chosen for myself this year in regard to soccer was Galatians 2:20:
"I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." (ESV)
And I examined that verse, and here were was my train of thought:
-What does that look like? I am to be merely a human skin encompassing a heart, soul and mind completely devoted to God. I am His earthly reflection and I'm not doing so hot.
-But what am I to reflect? How can I change my actions?
This lead me to think of 1 John 4:16: "God is love."
-I can focus on so many things but what is underneath is an attitude of love (which in its pure Godly form is unselfish, etc.)
Which lead me to 1 Cor. 13:
-The obvious love chapter - but I see it with a different view when I read it regarding how I'm supposed to treat others. It's not able to be faked, it's an attitude - a heart thing.
-"If I could..."
-"be amazing at soccer and score a ton of goals, wowing the audience and impressing my coach" but have not love - I am nothing.
-my skills at sports really have nothing at all to do with anything, it's all about my attitude and how I treat others, God and myself
-"Love is..."
-I fail so miserably at all of these (but that's the point isn't it?)
-I am so often self-seeking and wanting to make myself look good, but my purpose on Earth is to make God look good (and sometimes that's done best by my failing)
And this love? It cannot be checklisted. It cannot be faked. It cannot be done comfortably.
"To love at all is to be vulnerable." (C.S. Lewis - The Four Loves)
I cannot love without opening myself up for hurt, heartache and pain.
But then I look at what He did.
"but God shows His great love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8, ESV)
"Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:3, ESV)
And I am called to do the same. To live with a selfless love that always puts others first.
Because He first loved me.
It's a concept that He's been bringing to my mind a lot recently in terms of both relationships and lifestyle.
I'm one of these people who focuses on what I can accomplish, on a checklist of ideals to finish off for a day, who gets together with people so I feel as if I've contributed enough to that relationship for awhile, so now I can slack.
But He isn't like that.
Love is not something that can be contained. Love does not slack. Love never ends.
The first time I was struck by this was during the Alumni soccer weekend, when I took some time to be alone in my dorm room and do my devos.
My own theme verse that I had chosen for myself this year in regard to soccer was Galatians 2:20:
"I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." (ESV)
And I examined that verse, and here were was my train of thought:
-What does that look like? I am to be merely a human skin encompassing a heart, soul and mind completely devoted to God. I am His earthly reflection and I'm not doing so hot.
-But what am I to reflect? How can I change my actions?
This lead me to think of 1 John 4:16: "God is love."
-I can focus on so many things but what is underneath is an attitude of love (which in its pure Godly form is unselfish, etc.)
Which lead me to 1 Cor. 13:
-The obvious love chapter - but I see it with a different view when I read it regarding how I'm supposed to treat others. It's not able to be faked, it's an attitude - a heart thing.
-"If I could..."
-"be amazing at soccer and score a ton of goals, wowing the audience and impressing my coach" but have not love - I am nothing.
-my skills at sports really have nothing at all to do with anything, it's all about my attitude and how I treat others, God and myself
-"Love is..."
-I fail so miserably at all of these (but that's the point isn't it?)
-I am so often self-seeking and wanting to make myself look good, but my purpose on Earth is to make God look good (and sometimes that's done best by my failing)
And this love? It cannot be checklisted. It cannot be faked. It cannot be done comfortably.
"To love at all is to be vulnerable." (C.S. Lewis - The Four Loves)
I cannot love without opening myself up for hurt, heartache and pain.
But then I look at what He did.
"but God shows His great love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8, ESV)
"Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:3, ESV)
And I am called to do the same. To live with a selfless love that always puts others first.
Because He first loved me.
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