8.13.2010

Thy Rod and Thy Staff, They Comfort

Dream last night:

In my dream, I was propped up on some pillows in my bed, annoyed, because I could not fall asleep and I really needed it. The reason for this is that the IHOP–KC nightwatch was in my room, singing and playing just as if it were a normal set in the prayer room. As the team transitioned out so that another could replace them, the worship leader patted me on the shoulder and said, "Thanks for being so faithful in the place of prayer." This was even more irritating, because then I felt guilty for being irritated in the first place for not being able to sleep while prayer was going on.

I didn't get it in the dream, but I did when I woke up! Oh, how good it is to have the Lord's triple-whammy correction:

1. I make a distinction in my mind between prayer room time and alone time.

I am so grateful for the prayer room. I am so grateful to have a place where everything around me is enticing me and pushing me forward to press into God—into love, adoration, praise of the worthy one. I love it in there, and I can enter into true worship there. My heart comes alive in worship and prayer. But most of the time, the Lord encounters me in a deeper, more direct way in the secret place.

The problem is that in the prayer room, I'm reminded to press in. In the secret place, I'm not, and I don't press myself to remember (I don't really press myself to remember much of anything). We are supposed to "pray at all times." But I have a hard time engaging when I'm alone. Why? Because...

2. I don't fully believe that He's always with me.

When I'm alone, I don't consciously remember His nearness. I drift off in my mind—not that it's wrong to drift off . . . but I need greater revelation of how He never leaves; He never, ever, ever leaves. I was irritated in my dream because the two spheres of my life were colliding and disrupting my "me-time." But there is no me-time. There's me-and-Him-time, me-and-Him-and-others-time, and nothing else.

I want real understanding of the reality of our communion on a consistent basis.

3. I love sleep.

Woe.

8.10.2010

Trees, Silly

Had a conversation with a close friend concerning the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and how the rule not to eat of the tree caused us to enter into the reign of sin—The idea was that without rules, we cannot sin. (Rom. 5:13)

Of course, this paradox is silly. Without the choice to obey, we can't love, either—which is the entire purpose of our creation.

The fall: They said, "I want to be equal with You. I don't trust you. I don't trust your motives. I don't believe you are good or kind. I don't believe you can lead me as well as I can lead me. I don't want to depend on you. I need to work out a better deal for myself. I won't obey you. I don't love you."

This is death. The choice at the tree of the knowledge of good and evil gave expression to what was already in their hearts. It wasn't a mean God, tempting and making extraneous rules for a couple of people who deserved better.

The tree provided opportunity to choose obedience instead of self; to choose to love God. If we love Him, we obey Him.

We were created to love Him. We cannot be satisfied until we enter into that great exchange of love—and we cannot love without denying ourselves—we can't love Him without the choice.

The rule concerning the tree was a gift, a beautiful opportunity; it was free will, it was the choice.

5.14.2010

Shears and Gardens

In this season, the Lord has me at the banqueting table. He said that to me, and I thought of that silly little ditty, "He brought me to His banqueting table and His banner over me is love." It's one of the things in Song of Songs that I skip over, if I ever, in fact, make myself read Song of Songs.

But that's where He's brought me. One night at the student awakening, He showed me this picture of my heart, and my hands were all in it, trying to shape it up or mold it on my own. But the only thing He's asked me to do is lay my hands down.

Our hearts are gardens for the Lord, and if we go in there and blindly cut at things with the shears, we'll only end up hurting ourselves.

It's a hard thing to know deep down that we actually please Him, right now, before we're good enough, and that we don't have to work it up on our own. Because, logically, why? He sees us while we are still in our darkest places, sees what we could be through His Son, and loves us fully, wanting us and drawing us.

So right now I'm figuring out what this banqueting table thing is supposed to be.

4.13.2010

Numbers

I was reading Numbers in the prayer room—God's absolute hatred of wickedness was brought to my attention. He sent a plague on His beloved Israelites because they turned from Him and accused Him (once again). Moses, who was an intercessor, one who stood before God and begged Him to turn His wrath away from others for their sins time and time again, sent Aaron out among the dying Israelites with a censor filled with incense of propitiation to stand in between the living and the dead. When Aaron got there and stood with the censor, the plague went no further and the wrath of God abated. This all happened in a few moments, and already 14,700 had died.

What I was thinking was this: God never changes. His hatred of wickedness and compromise on the earth and in our hearts is the same as it ever has been. He is altogether just, He will not compromise His nature, He will not be manipulated into excusing any bit of wickedness. We deserve every ounce of His wrath; our own hands cry out against us. Our own sins cry out against us, rightly accusing us.

The Lord is committed to justice and righteousness; they are the foundations of His throne. It is right for Him to pour out His wrath on wickedness to abolish it.

Jesus literally was the propitiation, like the censor of incense that Aaron held up between God's wrath and the living Israelites. He took on all sin and became the atonement for it, the only sacrifice necessary. He took on our sin; He became everything God hates, and it pleased the Father to crush Him. (Isa. 53:10). That's a hard thing to read! The Father was pleased to bruise Jesus; He was happy to crush Him.

Why—when they loved on another so much? You would think He'd do it sadly, reluctantly; hesitantly turning on His Son for us, the undeserving sinners. No.

That is how much God hates wickedness and is committed to removing it. That is how much He is committed to the pursuit of a pure and holy Bride for His Son. That is how much He is committed to providing us with every opportunity to turn and enter into love and close relationship with Him again. He was joyful at the crucifixion because the cross enables us to draw near to Him.

The cross was absolutely brilliant! It was the plan from the very beginning! It satisfied the necessities for both judgment of sin and merciful lovingkindness for us. When one loves the Son and believes He is the only way to the Father, every sin, before we even know about it, is already eternally taken care of. We have been bought with a heavy price to satisfy the just cries of our sins against us.

Bless the Lord, o my soul and all that is within me; bless His holy name! Bless the Lord, o my soul, and forget not all His benefits: Who forgives all your iniquities, Who heals all your diseases, Who redeems your life from destruction, Who crowns you with lovingkindess and tender mercies, Who satisfies your mouth with good things, so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's. The Lord executes justice and righteousness for all who are oppressed. He made known His ways to Moses, His acts to the children of Israel. The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in mercy. He will not always strive with us, nor will He keep His anger forever. He has not dealt with us according to our sins, nor punished us according to our iniquities. For as the heavens are high above the earth, so great is His mercy towards those who fear Him. As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us. As a father pities his children, so the Lord pities those who fears Him. For He knows our frame: He remembers that we are dust...
Psalm 103.

4.10.2010

Passing Away

Oh the things man used to know, then forgot, and are now re-learning. Why do we not pass it from generation to generation?


Passing Away

Passing away, saith the World, passing away:
Chances, beauty, and youth, sapped day by day:
Thy life never continueth in one stay.
Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to grey
That hath won neither laurel nor bay?
I shall clothe myself in Spring and bud in May:
Thou, root stricken, shall not rebuild thy decay
On my bosom for aye.
Then I answered: Yea.

Passing away, saith my Soul, passing away:
With its burden of fear and hope, of labor and play,
Hearken what the past doth witness and say:
Rust in thy gold, a moth is in thine array,
A canker is in thy bud, thy leaf must decay.
At midnight, at cockcrow, at morning, one certain day
Lo the Bridegroom shall come and shall not delay;
Watch thou and pray.
Than I answered: Yea.

Passing away, saith my God, passing away:
Winter passeth after the long delay:
New grapes on the vine, new figs on tender spray,
Turtle calleth turtle in heaven's May.
Though I tarry, wait for Me, trust Me, watch and pray:
Arise, come away, night is past and lo it is day,
My love, My sister, My spouse, thou shalt hear Me say.
Then I answered: Yea.

An Invite to Eternity

An Invite to Eternity

Wilt thou go with me, sweet maid
Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me
Through the valley depths of shade,
Of night and dark obscurity
Where the path hath lost its way,
Where the sun forgets the day,
Where there's nor life nor light to see,
Sweet maiden, wilt thou go with me?

Where stones will turn to flooding streams,
Where plains will rise like ocean waves,
Where life will fade life visioned dreams
And mountains darken into caves,
Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me
Through this sad non-identity,
Where parents live and are forgot,
And sisters live and know us not?

Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me
In this strange death of life to be,
To live in death and be the same
Without this life, or home, or name,
At once to be and not to be—
That was and is not—yet to see
Things pass like shadows in the sky
Above, below, around us lie?

The land of shadows wilt thou trace,
And look, nor know each other's face;
The present mixed with reasons gone,
And past and present all as one?
Say, maiden, can thy life be led
To join the living with the dead?
Then trace thy footsteps on with me;
We're wed to one eternity.

3.19.2010

A Million Billion Trillion Quadrillion Questions

I want to know all about the relationship between Jesus and the Father. I mean, Jesus was fully man, so did He experience times (like, maybe, in the wilderness) where He felt the seeming abandonment of the Father that we sometimes feel? Or did He have the gift and blessing of perpetual nearness because He was special?

At the cross, He cried, "Why have You forsaken Me?" But was this the only time He felt this ache?

In Matthew 3:13–17, Jesus is baptized, and the Father says, "This is my Son." It is interesting to note that Jesus' sonship is exactly what Satan attacks when the Spirit leads Jesus into the wilderness to be tried in chapter 4. Satan says three times: "If you are really the Son of God..." But that's besides the point.

How much did Jesus know while on earth? Was He omniscient as a man? When He was being tempted, how did He know what to say? Did He only know what the Father spoke to Him and what He learned in Scripture?

In Isaiah 50:4–5, we see that Jesus was given the tongue of the learned and that the Father opened His ear to hear. The Father woke Him up every morning in order to teach Him the things of the learned. In other words, Jesus had to learn stuff. In other other words, Jesus didn't always know everything.

Really?

How much did the Father tell Him? When did He learn it? Did He know, even as a child, that He'd be dying the way that He did and why?

Obviously, He knew a lot as a child, because the way He was able to teach from the Scripture.

I sometimes get so caught up in the divinity of Jesus that I forget how lowly He must have been in His human form. Even though He was God, He gave up His heavenly home (and, apparently, His omniscience...anything else?) to come here and be like us. He was even humble for a man... not just because He was God and became a man...He was also humble compared to other men in how He walked in His everyday life as a man. I mean, He really laid it down every day, saying, not My will but the Father's. So...I want to know about what life on earth must have really been like for Him.

I mean, Jesus was totally dependent on the Father's voice. In John 5:19, Jesus says that He can't even do anything by Himself, He only did what He saw the Father doing. He was given the gift of the Father's voice. He was given grace and strength on earth to hear, to do, and to speak whatever the Father was saying.

Jesus was so strong! He was strong because of His relationship with His Father! Even not knowing everything, even in the weakness of being fully a man, even with all doubts and temptations and insecurities assailing Him, He "did not turn away or rebel" from the voice of the Father when He could have (Isa. 50:4). That's amazing.

3.13.2010

First Place

Last night I had a dream about my future children–they were serious and passionate people, and I remember knowing how outside of them I was. Even my children, who depended on me, were still, like all others, outside of me, separate in a place unreachable.

I don't know if I will have a family. It used to be something I took for granted: that I would grow up and go through all the normal stages one after another, end up married with kids in a little cozy house with a normal, average, American life.

But one night, the Lord showed me a picture of my ideal life, of where I assumed my life was going: a little white house with curtains blowing in and out of shuttered windows, a little path to the front door, a green, plant-filled yard yard and woods in the back. And in the house, I knew, warm and safe, was my husband and my kids.

And He asked me: "Are you willing to give this up for Me?"

First of all, it was an insight into my own heart: I had never really known how much I wanted this in the future, or how much I expected it. And second, it was God's mercy in showing me where I needed to align myself with Him. How many dreams do we have, even unwittingly, that we place above Him in the great hierarchy of our desires?

The other day I was listening to a teaching by Allen Hood from IHOP. He was talking about how he had bargained with God as a youth for the timing of the return of Jesus. Do we really want His return above all other things? Do we really want it now? I think it's pretty common for us to say: "Well, I hope I can experience marriage before You come back. And maybe parenthood, or maybe grand-parenthood. You know what? How about You return when I'm on my deathbed anyway. It would be really great then; it would really be better for my schedule."

Of course, when the Lord showed me the picture of my ideal and gave me that challenge, He wasn't saying necessarily that I would not ever have it. He was saying: "Are you willing to place Me at the top of the dreams of your heart? Will you to lift Me above the hopes for your life on earth? Will you desire Me above the rest? Are you able to say with a full heart, 'Even so, Lord come'?"

On the earth right now, there are millions of people who need Him to come right now, establish justice and His throne, and rescue them from wickedness, poverty, and slavery. With my comparatively comfortable, American life, it's easy to forget them in all the plans that I make.

So that is the challenge.

Thank you, Lord, for the grace to see where I don't place you first. Come make our hearts pleasing to You. Give us the longing for God, for Your will to be done, and for Your kingdom to come on earth as it is in heaven.