The Valley of Tears

Valley of Baca

For as long as I can remember, it’s been important for me to recognize and value the struggles of life.  To recognize that faith doesn’t mean ignoring pain or speaking empty platitudes that make it seem like the “faithful” aren’t affected by struggle, sin or sorrow. To give voice to things that make people feel alone or different in a way that includes and validates, but in a way that also reminds our hearts that God is always present, working and loving. Even in our pain.

I’m aware that I can be more emotional than some. I can even border on the melodramatic at times.  The tears of another can send me crashing into deep sadness as easily as the beauty and fragility of a bird flitting and flying around my front flower bed can fill my heart with awe. But, more often than not, I live in a place of low-grade worry and pain.  To be fair, our world is a mess, people are hurting, and life is hard. The least I can do is be honest about it and “see” those who feel unseen.

But, today I am keenly aware that God has been massaging a few words deep into my soul over the last few weeks. Words that, to be honest, I struggle with. But, words that I know hold the keys to overcoming the struggles of life and that offer us access to a deep well of hope and joy.

Gratitude.

Trust.

Surrender. 

You wouldn’t think they would be so hard to say (or type) but it’s almost as if recognizing their importance sets me up to fail in my obedience.  To ignore or turn a blind eye to them often seems easier, and much more palatable, to my sinful and selfish heart – but God has kindly shown me that it also causes my suffering to last longer, go deeper and lose the meaning it could hold. It’s my choice. It’s always my choice.

He is kind to give me choices. 

He is good to forgive my choices.

He is patient to reveal different choices.

Choosing differently can feel as if I’m being unfaithful to something valuable.  Something that deserves my tortured and sorrowful response. Something that needs to be held up in reverence and with anguish of soul to prove that it held a deep importance in this world.

But God seems to whisper to my heart that finding something to be grateful for in the middle of suffering doesn’t negate that I am suffering.  To trust that He is still in ultimate control when everything seems out of control doesn’t mean I can’t pound on His chest in prayer and weeping with a deep cry of “why?”. To surrender to the path He is leading me down doesn’t mean it’s easy, that I would have chosen it, or that I must paint on a smile when it’s difficult. It simply means that, ultimately, He is my source of life. Not myself. Not my freedom. Not my comfort. Not my family or my health or my prestige or my love or even my very breath. He is life itself and that life, that love, does not end with the ending of anything else.

What it does mean is that I remind my heart, “You are deeply loved”.  That suffering well unites me deeper to the heart of my suffering Savior. That God’s redemptive plan is not just for me as an individual but that it is for all of mankind and creation. I have no idea how my story finds a place in the bigger, grander and more beautiful tapestry that He is weaving in the world, but, I believe that it does, and it will. 

I can choose resentment, bitterness, anger, unforgiveness, hopelessness or unbelief and find that the darkness becomes deeper as each day dawns.  Or I can choose trust, surrender, gratitude, love, forgiveness hope, and faith and find that the heaviness of suffering lightens as I refocus my heart onto the one that carries it better than I.

It’s a tenuous endeavor for sure.  I choose well one day.  I choose not so well the next.  I find glimpses of peace and relief one day. I sink under the weight of grief the next. I see light one day. I grope in darkness the next. 

And all the while…my God is here.  He is steady and true.  He knows I am but dust, yet He calls me up and out to choose the heavenly as the eternal soul that I am.  And when I don’t…He keeps me from falling too far. 

The truth that He is so kindly massaging into my soul is this.  Circumstances don’t dictate whether my soul is well.  Living out the dream that I had for my life doesn’t bring security and peace. Avoiding pain and heartache isn’t what creates a life of rest and joy and purpose. All is well, security and peace are found, pain and heartache are born up ONLY when Jesus is near. Not when I give intellectual service to his presence but when I am united with His heart.  When my heart sits in silence long enough to hear his words deep within my soul and my heart believes it. When my perspective changes from the things I want in this world to the things I want of Him.  And when I can choose, to the best of my ability, to say to Him, “Where you lead, I will follow, with all the trust and love I can muster. Knowing that when I fail…. You never will.”

Psalms 84: 5-7

How enriched are they who find their strength in the Lord; 

within their hearts are the highways of holiness! 

Even when their paths wind through the dark valley of tears,

they dig deep to find a pleasant pool where others find only pain.

He gives to them a brook of blessing

filled from the rain of an outpouring.

They grow stronger and stronger with every step forward,

and the God of all gods will appear before them in Zion. (TPT)

Scripture quotations marked TPT are from The Passion Translation®. Copyright © 2017, 2018, 2020 by Passion & Fire Ministries, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved. ThePassionTranslation.com.

Keeper of the Sparrows

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My desk sits in front of our homes’ largest window. My front porch swing, two towering live oaks, my front flower bed and the livestock roaming in my neighbor’s pasture seem to be extra comforting as sunshine melts the evidence of this week’s snowstorm. Five days ago I sat here under layers of blankets watching hundreds of birds dart around my feeders devouring bird seed as quickly as I could put it out. Shockingly, they would bravely remain on one feeder as I filled up another without so much as a glance in my direction. One even landed on my hand! Hunger overrides fear,I guess, and they were certainly hungry, puffed up and frantic to survive. (Much like the rest of our ill-equipped state.) 

Today, as I look out over my feeders, I only see a handful of sparrows and a red bird or two. Quite a few Robins are eyeing the mushy ground for bugs, and crows are cawing from the neighbors’ oak tree but my smorgasbord is fairly empty once again. The weather sure makes a difference in the desperation of my feathered friends and in their willingness to allow me to get close.

It’s not difficult to draw similarities between the nature of birds and my own nature. The “weather” in my life has clearly determined the levels of desperation in my heart and the willingness to which I draw near to God. When life falls apart and we’re at the end of our abilities, it seems that we, as humans, instinctively run to God. We pursue His presence, we devour His word, and we cling to any sense of hope that prayer can provide. But, when the sun comes out and the fear dies down, it seems just as instinctual to depend on our own abilities and to forget who provided all we needed during the storm.  

Oh, but God is patient and gracious! He knows our pride and self-reliance but he continues to convict, to pursue, and to love us. When I’m face to face with the results of living life in my own strength, I’m reminded of how faithful he is. Each time I’ve found myself in a storm and in desperate need of his presence and provision, He’s been there. Each time, I find more “belonging.” I’m not sure how else to describe it except that my soul knows this place of dependency is where I’m meant to be. Where I’m meant to live. Each time I watch God faithfully care for me through a trial, my heart finds it easier to stay in that place a little while longer. To live from that place of dependency and trust instead of from a place of forgetfulness and self-reliance. The more I taste of God’s goodness…the hungrier I become. 

And hunger seems to not only override fear but pride and self reliance as well. 

I haven’t found a way to expedite the learning to live from this place of dependency. This place of abiding. It seems to come in its’ own time through experience…and failure. The ability to rest in who God is and what he does is inexplicably tied to the knowledge of who I am and what I can do. Or cannot do. The sin, deceptiveness and naiveté of my own heart and the weakness, frailty and decaying nature of my own body lead to the understanding that my hope truly does rest in God, the Keeper of the sparrows. 

This revelation is worth praying for, but it isn’t easy and it isn’t always pretty. It is, however, a gift. A gift of humility that leads to a pursuit of righteousness that leads to peace. To belonging.  To satisfaction.  Resting in God’s hand as he provides exactly what I need frees my soul to hope, breath, and love in the face of whatever comes. At least that’s the glimpse I’ve had of where I’m meant to belong. I hope I can learn to hang out there a little longer today than I did yesterday. And even longer tomorrow.  

^“Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are? Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?“And why worry about your clothing? Look at the lilies of the field and how they grow. They don’t work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?“So don’t worry about these things, saying, ‘What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?’ These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers, but your heavenly Father already knows all your needs. Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need.       Matthew 6:26-33

Frightening Beauty

My daughter sat with a look of wonder on her face as she watched the flames turn colors in the small bowl.  A torn-up check turned to ash in less than a minute. That minute was enough to make her say, “Anyone who thinks fire isn’t beautiful is crazy.”

I could easily fall under her definition of what constitutes “crazy”.  I mean, this is the girl who’s also fascinated with medical procedures, blood, scary movies and books that have tragic endings.  I’m not.  Therefore, I might be crazy. But, in this case, I wasn’t.

“Yeah.  Fire is beautiful to watch but, it scares me.”

My words echoed in my heart for a while after I responded, and I realized that I’m afraid of quite a few things that I find incredibly beautiful. The ocean. Thunder storms. Lions. Tigers. Bears. (NOT snakes or rats…oh my!)

It’s the power that scares me.  The fact that such things could destroy me.  Consume me.  Overwhelm me.  Even kill me.

When I control my proximity to them, their wild nature is mesmerizing and even graceful.

I guess the truth of the matter is that their power doesn’t scare me as much as my losing control over that power.

Sounds about right. Control is a thing with me.

True to form, God took the idea past the point of observation and into the depths of my heart.

I love how our conversations often go.  I have a thought. He shines a spotlight on my heart.  Provides sufficient silence. And quietly says, “And…?”

It would be so much easier if God just told me the answers to these kinds of questions instead of asking me to figure it out.  After all, He knows my soul much better than I do.

Maybe that’s the point?

Anyway, back to all the questions that were implied with that “And?”.  Are there other things of beauty and power that I’m afraid of because I don’t want to lose control? Do I hold myself back from good things, so I won’t be consumed or overwhelmed?  Does my need for control prevent me from dying to myself in a good and holy way?

Yes, yes, and yes.

Love, forgiveness, humility.  Worship, obedience, surrender.

Faith, trust.

The Holy Spirit.

When I stop to think about it, everything about God is beautiful, powerful and frightening. He is the source of beauty and power.  He is the fullness of everything we see and cannot see. He’s untamed, uncontrollable, unexplainable, unfathomable and unavoidable. He is huge. My finite mind can’t comprehend the rhyme and reason behind God’s economy.  How does serving make me great?  How am I chosen but I also choose?  How is God sovereign if man has responsibility?  How am I holy yet am commanded to become holy? How does death bring me life? My words can’t explain the joy of the Holy Spirit’s power. My heart can barely beat in the presence of grace and forgiveness. My need for self-protection is lost when confronted with the truth of God’s love for me.  And still, I fight for control instead of handing all I am and all I have over to the fierceness of God.

If only I had the courage to drown in all that He is. Inching in a bit at a time doesn’t work.  The beauty comes in diving in, head first, in spite of all my fear.

“If there’s anyone who can appear before Alsan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.  “Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.  “Safe?” said Mr. Beaver. “Don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”                 CS Lewis  

Spring Always Comes

Spring has begun to show itself here in Texas and, although it hasn’t been a harsh winter, it’s a welcome friend. I love Spring with every part of my being.  I love the fragrance of fresh-cut grass, newly budding flowers and spring rains.  I love the vibrant colors of our Texas sunsets and the various shades of this beautiful green earth placed against the bright blue sky. I love the sound of birds in the morning, children laughing in a park and lawn mowers humming. And I love the feel of the sun on my skin and the certainty that Spring will always come.

No matter how long the winter.

This affinity for Spring is in my blood.  My Nanny was a gardener with a green thumb that I can only dream of having.  Her yard is still one of my favorite childhood memories that has become something of a fairytale in my mind.  A place of beauty and wonder that seemed larger than life.  Much larger than I’m sure it was.  Every Easter, my Papaw would take me to the little town of Many, Louisiana to buy a new dress at the “5 and Dime” store so I could wear it to the Hodges Garden’s Sunrise Easter service. I was so small that I barely remember more than putting on my new dress and paten leather shoes, falling asleep in the car and waking to the sound of hymns and the warmth of the sunrise coming up over the most beautiful field of azaleas that you can imagine. The memories could go on and on…sitting on the back of my daddy’s bike and riding through Audubon Park…pulling up sprigs of grass and little white flowers off our shrubs to make my mom a homemade corsage for Easter…hunting for eggs after church…crawfish boils…family picnics with chips, cokes and bologna sandwiches at roadside parks on spring break road trips.

Spring is full of life to me.  Feeling it, smelling it, seeing it, hearing it, tasting it, living it but, most importantly, remembering that it always comes.  Life that is.

As I sit on my porch for the first time this year and watch the birds at my feeders, I’m grateful for the fact that winter can never stop spring from coming.  It’s not that I hate winter.  It’s a needed part of life and, to be brutally honest, winter makes spring so much more beautiful and not just because we appreciate it more after long months of darkness.  A hard winter actually does something deep in the earth to make plants more vibrant and to kill certain pests. Winter can seem hopeless at the time but there’s a rhyme and reason to it. There’s truly is a purpose for each season even if it’s difficult to see at times.

The concept that each season has a purpose and actually prepares us for the next is not an earth shattering one. I’m sure it isn’t new to you either.   But, I feel compelled to acknowledge how this last year has chiseled this truth down deep into my soul. My faith has been strengthened as I’ve seen God’s faithfulness in bringing about each season at just the right time and for his perfect purposes in each. It’s also grown a passion in me to be actively involved in each season of life and to make each as productive as humanly possible.

You might think, “God is in control of the seasons, what do we have to do with it?” What I mean is…I want to be a gardener. I want to work the soil of my life in such a way that God is glorified when Spring comes.  We aren’t called to a passive life of tentatively pursuing or obeying God while we wait to see what happens.  Granted, we don’t know what’s coming in our lives but we can know that something is coming. Winter always does.  It’s a necessity of life.  It can take many forms but we can’t avoid it. It may be that life simply gets dark, cold or dull. It may mean that we experience hopelessness, death, sorrow or pain. Whatever it may be, at some point,  we will always encounter winter.  BUT, we also encounter spring, summer and fall. God is so gracious in that way. The question is, will we make the most of the time we have in each?

Proverbs 6:6-8 says “Take a lesson from the ants, you lazybones.  Learn from their ways and become wise! Though they have no prince or governor or ruler to make them work, they labor hard all summer, gathering food for the winter.” And Proverbs 20:4 says it like this, “Those too lazy to plow in the right season will have no food at the harvest.”

The truth of the statement “God prepares and provides for our future trials today” has been revealed to me as I’ve seen how past obedience  resulted in a foundation strong enough to  sustain me in a storm. Yes, he is a gracious and merciful God who often gives us what we need even when we have turned a deaf ear to the Spirit; but, preparation and provision for the winter often come through the work done in the summertime of life.

Summer is a time of hard work! If you’ve ever had a garden that you’ve started from seed or planted by hand you know how difficult it can be. Tilling up hard ground, pulling up all sorts of stuff you don’t want to grow, adding fertilizer to prepare the soil…it’s backbreaking and exhausting.  On top of that, it’s SLOW! As you wait to see the first sign of growth peeking up through the dirt, you can start to wonder if anything is actually happening.  Then, once things start to grow, it’s still a long process of weeding, fertilizing and waiting to see the fruit of your labor.  That’s our part in the process. God is in charge of the growth and the timing of it all but we have the responsibility and privilege to get our hands dirty in the endeavor and to feel the joy that comes in the harvest.

Speaking of harvest…I love that season too.  I love the feeling of accomplishment that comes with picking, eating and canning the fruit of the summer.  Of shorter days and cooler nights spent with family around the table eating fresh vegetables and having long talks.  We don’t seem to anticipate the winter in the fall.  I mean, we know it’s coming at some point but I never really know when or have a clue at how bad it will be.  So, my focus is usually on the moment and on enjoying what God has provided. I seldom think of what I’ll be facing in a few months; unlike my grandparents who had a keen awareness of their need to be prepared for the winter. My ability to run to Wal-Mart for food in December has stripped the power from the meaning behind this concept of preparation. Or, at least, it’s lessoned the urgency of it for me. However, spiritually speaking, the urgency is there and the importance of preparing our hearts during the summer and autumn of life in order to face the winter can’t be stressed enough.  It will keep us going when life seems overwhelming.  It will keep hope in our hearts, breath in our lungs and warmth in our souls when all around us is death, fear and darkness.

The things that we didn’t realize God was planting in us during those long, hot days of summer as we obediently spent time in His word, cultivated community, sought to know him in prayer and ruthlessly dealt with the selfishness and sin that so easily snuck into our lives will prove to be exactly what we need.  The fruit that we finally see God produce in our lives when we desire his will above our own and as he lavishly pours out grace and blessing over us will become the very thing we offer as a blessing  to others  in our darkest days. All the time spent growing to know and love our Father will sustain that love when all we have are questions.  During my own personal winter that was full of fear, uncertainty, sorrow and shame, God spoke these verses deep into my soul as an encouragement and a prayer to make the most of  that season.

“But they delight in the law of the Lord, meditating on it day and night.  They are like trees planted along the riverbank, bearing fruit each season. Their leaves never wither, and they prosper in all they do.”

Psalm 1:2-3

That time reminded me that I want to live my life during the spring and summer seasons in such a way that allows me to bear fruit of some sort even in the winter. (Even if it’s just to continue wanting to continue when all I really feel like doing is giving up).  I hope that my faith in His goodness and kindness is never eclipsed by my own suffering and heartache.  And, my desire is to so thoroughly kill fear during the coming summers that nothing but love, faith and trust survives and thrives to carry me through whatever winters are still to come.

Because I know this to be true…. Spring will always come.

One way or another…life will break through the darkness in Technicolor beauty that touches every one of my senses. I will be grateful for the chance to partner with Christ, in some small way, as an apprentice gardener to this world around me that He has planted and tended so lovingly. And God will remind me of His limitless creativity and passion to bless me in countless ways as I sit in awe of His ability to revive, restore and resurrect.

All for His glory.

“Spirit of the Living God”

I can’t sleep.

I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve become accustomed to little sleep over the last 4 weeks or if it’s something else.

I grab my headphones and turn on some worship music as I lie in the dark.  Surely I’ll fade into rest soon enough.

But I don’t.

There hasn’t been a “meltdown” as of yet.  I’ve been told to expect it but I’ve only had a few minutes of crying while driving alone here and there.  It feels good- like a valve opening up to release hundreds of pent up feelings. For a woman who is intimately familiar with all kinds of emotions, it seems strange that I can’t even put a name to this.  It’s just the overflow of so much.

So much fear. So much loneliness. So much exhaustion. So much uncertainty. So much waiting. So much helplessness….

But not only that.  There’s something else that seems to overshadow all of it.

So much gratitude.  So much hope that I won’t be the same.  That none of us will forget what we’ve seen.  So much expectation of what the Spirit can do, can speak, can teach, can show, can change…I’ve changed.  So many of us have changed.

We’ve seen God walk into a “room”.  We’ve seen Him move.  It’s changed what I want.  What I want to seek. What I want to see in this world.  What I want to see in the lives of those around me.  It’s made me fall on my knees-literally and figuratively.

At this very moment, it’s left me in tears.  Tears that flow from a hundred different places but that seem to cleanse my soul. Not sobbing tears.  Not uncontrollable “let’s confront what we just lived through” tears.  Those may come, but these are tears of submission to my God and to whatever He needs to do in my heart.  Tears of love.  Tears of joy at the miracle I’ve seen.  Tears of expectation and desire to see more of who He is. Tears of certainty that He has gone before me into an uncertain future.  His timing is perfect.  His plan is waiting and He will walk through it all with me.  Heck, He will carry me if need be.

So I’m sharing this song.  It’s followed me for weeks (as have so many others).  Tonight, I’m returning to bed, playing it on repeat and falling asleep with the prayer that I’ll live the rest of my life wanting nothing more than to hear His voice, to obey it and to see Him do the things that only He can do.

To be a part of that…priceless.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ogGOlGswStA

Knowing His Love

I wonder how often we say things that we don’t really believe. Or, maybe it’s more accurate to put it this way – how often do we say things we don’t KNOW to be true? That’s been the case for me more times than I can count. But, when God reveals a truth to your heart with such depth and tender love as only He can do, you won’t easily forget it.