I'm pasting this whole, long blog because it was just that good. These were words I needed to read today. Ointment to a hurting heart. I need Jesus like crazy. Literally, I think I'd be crazy without him. To the 4 of you that read my blog, I hope this speaks to the depths of your soul like it did mine. Without further ado, the amazing Beth Moore.
Good Monday morning, Sweet Things! I hope you are well and prospering in your souls. I am, thank You, Lord Jesus. But it’s no contradiction that I’m also still navigating through a season of concurrent weakness – like my limbs all weigh a hundred pounds – and sadness – like my soul weighs a thousand pounds. I’m trying to get insight into it and gain whatever wealth God wants to give me through it. I wouldn’t be here if I had nothing to gain from it. Scripture assures us of that as children of God. I’m one of those weird people who – as a loose general rule – often wakes up in a buoyant and talkative mood so these days are madly rushing by at a maddeningly glacial pace. I decided last week that, if I wasn’t going to be ushered out of it as quickly as I’d hoped, I’d at least ask God as sincerely as I knew how to use it. To teach me through it. To grant me revelation through it. Growth through it. Dependency. Humility. Living words. I’ve also asked Him to shed light on an area of blackness in my heart that I really, really do not like. We’re working on that.
So, yesterday morning before church I felt Him prompt me to pray with added expectancy toward our church service. That’s not hard for me to do. I love my church so much. I’ve never found church life more fulfilling than in this young fellowship of believers. I pray consistently for God’s powerful, life-breathing Spirit to fall on our senior pastor (my son-in-law Curtis) and on our children’s pastor and our worship teams. That’s my joy. Countless others pray the same things and we often get to behold with great gladness God’s merciful responses to the pleas of our congregation. There is ripe fruit, red and plump, already hanging on the limbs of this toddler tree.
But this time, I felt like God also impressed upon my heart to pray with elevated expectancy for words specifically pertaining to my own condition. My own wondering and pondering. I prayed for everyone in our service but I made a special effort to ask God before I ever arrived in the parking lot that my own ears would be open and that I’d receive the Word wholeheartedly. I prayed that last week, too. And probably the week before. But this time I felt a more! from God. Go to the Scriptures like a starving man clawing for bread.
It’s a weird thing about pain. The deeper it goes, the wider it opens your mouth to the Spirit. Psalm 81:10 “I am the Lord, your God, the one who brought you out of the land of Egypt. Open your mouth wide and I will fill it!” I need Jesus right now. Like you, I always do but I feel its serrated edge against the grain of my selfishness right now. I need His strength. His joy. His hope. And that means that, if I want to, I can sing every word in our worship time as if my life depends on it. I can hear the phrases I’m singing echo somewhere down in my soul, looking for a place to land. I can mean them in a way I don’t have to mean them when life is less mean…if you know what I mean.
Isn’t that the way it goes? It is only in a season like this that I get what I constantly beg God for: an intense relationship with Him where I can sense His Presence and where His Word is life and breath to me. Where the Cross is so much dearer. Where His Spirit seems much nearer. Where I love Him more than anything I can see or touch. That glorious place of the thinning veil.
I couldn’t write fast enough during the sermon yesterday. Our pastor preached from 2 Kings 4 about Elisha and the Widow’s Oil. The widow was in need. Curtis told us that, in our humanness, we despise being in need yet without need, there is no room for the miraculous. He said miraculous provision is our birthright – that we were born again out of profound, unparalleled miraculous provision and that we are meant to experience it often and until our last breath.
He asked us the question, “Do you want to live in the midst of supernatural provision?” and I do! So I wrote down on a stick note, “I WANT TO LIVE IN THE MIDST OF SUPERNATURAL PROVISION.” Yes, Lord, I surely do. Curtis said so much of the time we live the Christian version of ordinary because we either have so much or are satisfied with so little that we can simply take care of ourselves. By all means let’s put to use what God has given us. That’s good stewardship. But let’s not get ourselves in such a self-sufficient rut that we end up missing the supernatural. Wonders can happen when we’re in a place desperate enough to look for them and have the patience enough to wait for them and the prayer life enough to ask for them.
Curtis also said that “If we look around our lives and we have everything we need, then we may need to live a bigger life and set better goals.” The God-nodding kind. The Word-believing kind. The Gospel-living kind. Nothing about Curtis’s quote is in opposition to Biblical contentment. We’re to be content in whatever circumstances we’re in. We’re talking here about fighting the urge in our excess to be content in our self-sufficiency. To see little of God because we need little from God.
And, Girl, it hit. I HAVE A NEED. And I left church yesterday strangely appreciating it. I don’t know how I’ll feel about it by Wednesday but for right now, I’m thinking that an acute need is a good thing. A hard thing. But a good thing. I have never wanted to live a self-sufficient life with purely natural, utterly explainable provisions. I want to live in such a way that I know – I absolutely know – after a long, hungry spell that, when the sun comes up warm and gold and the ground shimmers with manna, only God could have done that.
That’s glory.
Total, unabashed, unspared, unshared credit.
YOU DID IT, LORD. YOU DID WHAT I COULDN’T DO. YOU DID WHAT NO ONECOULD DO. YOU GAVE ME WHAT I DIDN’T HAVE. MADE ME WHO I COULDN’T BE. TOOK ME WHERE I COULDN’T GO.
If I have presence of mind, I’d want to be able to whisper on my deathbed something like, “I’ve seen His wonders. Now, scoot over, everyone, and let me see His face.” Move and let me praise Him.
So, that’s my word from yesterday. I bless the Name of our merciful, patient God for His kindness to give it. Did you walk away from your church with one, too? Then, take a brief paragraph and tell us what it was. Get specific about one point and keep it succinct and direct. Wouldn’t that be a great way to build one another up around here this week? As we encourage one another in our pursuit of Christ, we want to encourage one another in local church life as an essential part of it. (Not the only part, by any stretch of the imagination but an important part.) Body life. It’s Christ’s way. If you didn’t get a particular word over the weekend – if perhaps you had to be out of church or you helped in the nursery or you were there but you just felt off and detached, you’re welcome to share one of ours today. They’re free for all. That’s God’s way. His Word is still alive on Monday.
No matter what yesterday was like, maybe today, after a long hungry spell, you might see the ground shimmering with manna and decide to bend down on those knees, scoop up a handful and eat.
Many, O LORD my God,
are the wonders you have done.
The things you planned for us
no one can recount to you;
were I to speak and tell of them,
they would be too many to declare. Psalm 40:5 NIV
