The pain of being drawn.

"I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eyes upon you. Be not like a horse or a mule, without understanding, which must be curbed with bit and bridle or it will not stay near you." Psalm 32:8,9

Growing up I had a particular obsession and fascination with horses. Anyone reading this who has known me for longer than seven years or so will remember it well. Pictures of horses covered my bedroom walls, ripped from magazines, newspaper clippings, and old calendars. I took any chance I could to ride-- whether at friends' houses or camp, even if it was being led around a ring by one of the wranglers, or going on a trail ride where you do little more than sit because the horses know the route so well. I lived in the city, so owning a horse was out of the question and riding lessons were expensive, so I savored every chance I got to enjoy the animals I loved so much.

The years have watered down my intense interest and devotion to the equine species, but I still love to ride and think they are possibly one of God's most beautiful animals that he has created. There is something fascinating in the way they (in my own eyes) have been so clearly created to serve as companionship and transportation for the human race (only becoming less so in more recent centuries.) Perhaps, also, there is something about horse and rider that reminds me of myself.


Off the top of my head, I can think of at least 2-3 references in the Bible that speak of horses and the bits we place in their mouths to control them. As beautiful as horses are, and as useful the bit and bridle is to harness their power for our use, Psalm 32:9 commands we not be like them.


2 Kings 19:28 says, "Because you rage against me and because your insolence has reached my ears, I will put my hook in your nose and my bit in your mouth, and I will make you return by the way you came.’ " It is addressed to the evil King Sennacherib of Assyria at the time of writing, who was oppressing the Jewish people. God threatens to use brute force to make the evil king comply with the wishes that He had for his people. 


Psalm 32 says that God will "instruct and teach" us, which is a huge comfort to one like me who has trouble making decisions on her own (See "Prayer 'Overkill' "). He will "counsel [me] with [his] eyes upon [me]." What a comfort to know that God has his eye on me and wants to take me exactly where he wants me to go. However, there is a second part to this verse that reveals that there is a condition to his divine leadership, and this condition requires our compliance. "Be not like horse or a mule...which must be curbed with bit and bridle..." In order for Jesus to lead us, we must be in close proximity to him-- which would only make sense. How are you supposed to follow someone you cannot see nor hear because you are too far away? Not only that, I believe God deeply desires our nearness. Intimacy is cultivated in whispers and gentle, quiet words, not shouts across a room because the other person is too far away.
 
But what happens when we refuse to come near? What happens when we persist in our way and determine to make our own decisions and choices? I know what you do for a horse-- you put a harsher bit in it's mouth. Psalm 32:8-9 suggests to me that, perhaps, when we don't stay near, God bridles us to draw us nearer.
 
How often, when I have drifted in my intimacy with Jesus, when I have made an unwise decision, when my path is not as straight as I know he would want it to be and difficult circumstances come my way, is it actually Jesus attempting to pull me close? Hebrews 12:6 says "he disciplines those he loves." Does not a parent at times draw their child closer in order to punish them? The more difficult of my punishments as a child were probably the times one of my parents would look me straight in the eyes (even if I would not meet their own) and speak in a low voice about what I had done wrong and what I needed to change.
 
When I think of being "drawn" closer, the thoughts and images that come to mind are much more gentle and tender than those of a difficult horse being tugged at by the reins. I like to think of a father wrapping his strong arms around his daughter and whispering he loves her in her ear. 
 
Merriam-Webster defines draw as "to cause to move in a certain direction." Perhaps God, in his infinite love, power, sovereignty and wisdom chooses to place the "bit" in our mouths so that we return to him. Why does one put a halter and lead rope on a horse?-- to guide it. God knows us, he knows what is best. In our own stubbornness we forget that being close to him is the absolute best place to be. Being drawn is painful at times, I have concluded. However, better a little pain in this lifetime that ultimately draws me back to my Father than stumbling down the wrong path only to end my life far out of His reach where I can be drawn no longer. 


So somehow, the pain of being drawn ultimately increases our intimacy with Jesus

The "dance" in dependance.

"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?" Matthew 6:26,27

I will admit it. I am a chronic worrier. 

I hate not knowing what will happen, how God will provide, how a situation will play out, what I should have said or done differently, and on and on and on. Perhaps it's my humanness, perhaps I am worse than others when it comes to this, but there have been days where I have laid awake at night for hours on end, trying to formulate the answer to a complex issue I am facing. And more often than not, this "answer" I come up with (if I manage to come up with one at all), is completely different and resolved in a completely different way than I expected.

Almost like God is saying: "You have no answers. I provide. Why do you waste your precious time and energy trying to do my job?"

Again, recently, I am facing a crisis of worry. I just completed a completely incredible year in community with other believers-- many of whom are now my closest friends-- learning about God, life, church leadership and the Bible. Essentially, Bible school, but it took place in our church and we don't all go our separate ways when the year is over. It's beautiful! But, having given up time in other areas, mainly the workplace, in order to get the most out of this program that I could, I find myself struggling as I try to get back into working again.

Without boring you about the details of my job, I will just say that at this point, no shifts are guaranteed, and it could be a while before I have a position that gives me regular work (Oh the joys of casual shift work...). It's very trying for me, and on more than one occasion, I have done the less than grown up adult thing to do and simply broken down in tears because I don't know when I will make the money I need for some very real things.

Again. Worrying.

I am now going to seemingly radically change the subject. (But you will see how it all applies :) ) I love birds. I think I could watch them for hours. There are so many colors, shapes, sizes and sounds of them. I watch them and wish I could fly too-- it seems terribly unfair that they get to experience the joy of flying and I don't (at least not without a huge metal contraption full of other people around me). I love artwork with birds-- especially the cute little sketches of them. Robins excite me every year I see them because they are a sure sign of spring, and I have many wonderful memories of my siblings and I watching the progress of a few nests we found on our yard as children.

Why all this talk of birds? Well, I finally chose to ask God the other day why I liked birds so much (because I recently had been drawing a lot of those "cute little sketches" of them in my journal). The words that came to mind are freedom and dependance. Birds symbolize these things to a 'tee.' They experience the freedom of flying, but also have to depend on God for their next meal.

It's funny, but I think that these words "freedom" and "dependance" would be antonyms to the world. To them, freedom = Independence. However, I do not see it this way.

In the last couple days, as I was worrying--again-- God brought to mind my recent musings about birds and dependance. He also reminded me of the beautiful verse in Matthew 6 that reminds one of their extreme value to God in respect to the-- you guessed it-- birds. If God daily provides for the needs of each of the birds I see daily, how much more-- when he sees me as part of his prize of creation (humanity), will he provide for my needs? In the same chapter in Matthew, just verses later (vs. 33) the writer says, "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." If I am seeking God first in my life, he promised to provide my needs. Not my wants, my needs. (How often do we mix these two up?) This is where I find freedom. If a great, all-powerful and loving God promises to provide my needs--meaning, I don't need to provide for myself-- there is great freedom in that!

Of course, trusting that God will provide when all circumstances seem to say otherwise takes much faith. (And I am not suggesting that we don't have a part to play, I have to be faithful in my job and in my ministry to enjoy God's blessing. I am not suggesting we just sit back lazily and wait for everything to come to us). But, when we partner with God in faith, we can relax enough to allow him to provide for our needs. Faith is the "dance" in depen-dance. 

Jesus, I am depending on you. I don't want to dance this faith walk in anyone else's arms but you. Thank you for being a provider. You know my needs more intimately than I do. Amen.

In Memory of Ryan: How's my pace, God?

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing." 2 Timothy 4:7-8

Today I went to the funeral of someone I did not know well. I left wishing I had known him better, but more than that, I left wanting to love God even more.

Not the type of love that screams for attention and boasts, "Hey, everyone, I know God." But the love that resonates through the tears, laughter and memories of those who know you best. A legacy of love. That's what I want to leave! 

Leaving the funeral, a friend of mine said, "You find out what type of person you were at your funeral." And I had to wonder if Ryan knew the impact he had. Probably not, who ever does? I was not a close friend of his. In fact, we were probably more of acquaintances-- we had shared a meal together on a church young adult camping trip last year and hung out in a group with mutual friends once or twice, but yet, I knew he was an incredible man of character, gentleness and faith. What I remember most were his eyes. I remember seeing genuine care, love and respect. I remember seeing Jesus there.

Talking to a close friend of Ryan's, she said, "I am so glad God has a plan." And seeing the turn out at the celebration of his life, I believe strongly that God will use his death in the powerful way to impact the lives of many young people. Ryan was teacher. I would venture to say that a third of the people at the funeral were students of his at one point. He was loved by these kids and genuine mourning happened after his fatal accident in the hallways of the schools of which he had an impact in-- both through teaching and substituting.

Something about a funeral forces one to reflect upon their own approaching death. I say approaching because we cannot escape it. Death is reality, and though God never intended for us to have to face death, we can be joyful it no longer hold any power over us (IF we have chosen to run after and know Jesus). It's interesting, upon seeing Ryan's own words written in the funeral bulletin ("I am ready to go"), someone said, "That's depressing." Since then I've thought about it and come to this conclusion: It's actually not. I rejoice that Ryan knew exactly where he was going when he died-- even though it came sooner than he or anyone else expected. I am thankful that his family doesn't need to question where his loyalty lay-- they know he is in the arms of Jesus. 

So, even though I did not really know this man of God, I am forced to ask myself: What is my legacy? Do people see Jesus in MY eyes? in MY smile? in MY character? Will the people I have fought to impact come to MY funeral? Was I just another nice person? or was I someone that people knew loved Jesus with everything that she had?

Ryan was 32. While he had a few years on me, it's bizarre to think that at any time, God could chose to take me to live with Jesus. In the arrogance of our youth, we tend to think we are invisible. Not so today. I think the death of a young person humbles the rest of us young people to realize that life is short and eternity is forever. I feel Jesus whispering to me, "Well, Jennifer? How are you going to live today?" 

Being involved in a church where the youth and young adults are so tightly knit, I feel as if we lost a member of our family today. I understand what it means when it says in Corinthians 12:26, "If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it." I suffer for my friends who knew him better than I did. Being a part of the universal church, I suffer for his family. And yet, I have joy in the way we can pull together, support each other and learn from Ryan's example.

The verse repeated over and over at the funeral was 2 Timothy 4:7-8: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race..." Ryan's race is over. If honest, I am a little jealous that he is face to face with Jesus right now and I am not :). However, my fight is not over. I have opponents to face and matches to win. My finish line is unseen, not quite here, yet inevitable. While I may not be the strongest, fastest or the most graceful runner, I want to finish with strength and perseverance that is done solely for my heavenly father. And hopefully, by running for my precious Jesus, I can convince those on the sidelines to come and run along beside me. "How is my pace, God?"

"For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain..." Philippians 1:21  

Don't look down, lest you drown.

"In the pride of his face, the wicked does not seek him..." Psalm 10:4
"The pride of your heart has deceived you." Obadiah 1:3 
  
Pride is a funny thing. It's the thing no one wants to have, but everyone struggles with at one point or another. It's the thing that we find so repulsive in other people, but is so easy to become. While it may take a long time to think of someone we have known who was truly humble, it only takes a split second to think of someone we have known who was full of pride: The guy in high school that never gave anyone a chance to score or pass the ball during the game or in gym glass; the woman at work who refuses to change her ways because she's been there longer than anyone else; the person at church who gives their opinion without ever listening to someone else's because their's is the right one...and on and on and on. "Why can't they see how full of pride they are?! Why can't they tell they are not 'all that'?!" We vent to each other as we roll our eyes at proud responses, over confidant answers and narcissistic actions.

But pride is not always so obvious. Anyone who has been convicted of it before would say that is usually comes in what we would see as minor attitudes, actions and words we say to others. And isn't it funny, how easy it is to see in others, but takes three times as long (or longer) to notice in ourselves? Well, they say love might be blind, but I am discovering that pride is even blinder.

When praying about something recently, I was having trouble getting an answer, until I realized that it was my own pride that stood in the way. Obadiah says that our pride can deceive us-- trick us, make us think something that isn't true, keeps us from seeing the reality at hand. Because pride is what keeps people from going to God (2 Cor. 4:3-4), how can I expect an honest answer from him if I am determined to hear what I think is the "right" thing? I needed a dosage of humility to make the right choice.

A quote from CS Lewis says, "A proud man is always looking down on things and people; and, of course, as long as you're looking down, you can't see something that's above you." 

God has long used the illustration of a path and a tree in the distance to exemplify my walk with him. In the picture, he stands by the tree and waits for me to meet him there. When he first showed this to me, he revealed that I was looking down at the grass around my feet, the flowers, bugs and twigs, instead of looking at his face and walking towards him with my eyes fixed. By concentrating on my own path, by looking at my own feet while walking, I am thinking that I can take myself where I need to go better than Jesus can lead me there. Meanwhile, Jesus is saying, "I know the path! I created it and mapped out your journey! Look at me!" It's kind of like Peter walking on water. As soon as he looked down and began to marvel at the fact he was walking on water, he began to sink. (Matt 14:22-33) Pride is as simple as a a peek at my own feet.

So if pride is what blinds us, what restores our sight? Matthew 5:8 says, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." Psalm 19:8 says, "The commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes." The answer is PURITY! Psalm 119:9 says, "How can a young [person] keep [their] way pure? By living according to your word." 

Briefly stated: Faith. Living according to God's word and not my own inclinations.

I once heard faith defined this way, "Faith is obedience to the unseen." Just as my struggle is to take my eyes off my feet and where they are taking me and just like Peter took only a brief moment to check out the fact he was walking on water, we all need to stop looking down, and start looking up! It's our pride, even those brief moments of "I can do this" or "I am strong enough" that keep us from seeing what's ahead. Whereas our culture tells us to map out our own paths and know where we are going (graduates, I am sure you can relate), faith calls us to follow and be obedient to the unseen. It's an interesting paradox, to give up the blindness of pride in exchange for the blindness of faith.

Peter looked down and he almost drowned. But worse than that, he lost sight of his Savior, just like I tend to when I think that looking at my feet is more reliable than seeking his face. Don't look down, lest you drown.

Tremble to touch the Lion.

"Serve the LORD with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and you perish in the way, for his wrath is quickly kindled. Blessed are all who take refuge in him." Psalms 2:11-12
I can unashamedly say that 1) the Chronicles of Narnia are probably some of my all time favorite stories and 2) I love the writings of CS Lewis. Something about the stories goes past just the story itself and deep into the inner part of my spirit. It would be too strong to say that they were "inspired," because only the Bible is "living and active," yet, I really believe that God has used Lewis to relate truths about the character of God and spirituality that are best told through the eyes of children and the love of a larger than life lion (Aslan).
I recently read a biography on the life and writings of Lewis and I came across a story within it where an American mother had written him, worried about the fact that her young son seemed to love Aslan more than he loved Jesus. Lewis replied that her son could not actually love Aslan more than Jesus, because in loving Aslan for the things he did and said he is loving Jesus for the things he did and said-- maybe even more than before.
In the book "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," Mr. Beaver replies to the Pevensie children's question about Aslan's safeness with:

" "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." "

And later on, just before Aslan's execution on the Stone Table, Lucy and Susan walk with the great lion on his walk towards his death. Lewis writes:

"And so the girls did what they would never have dared to do without his permission, but what they had longed to do ever since they first saw him -- buried their cold hands in the beautiful sea of fur and stroked it and, so doing, walked with him."

You may wonder what any of this has to do with the verse in Psalms 2. When I first read the verse in Psalms, I was stuck at the part that said "rejoice with trembling." What does that mean? "Serve the LORD with fear" is much easier to understand, in my mind. God is holy, I am not, therefore I should fear the consequences of my sin and serve him in a way that brings glory to him alone. But how does one tremble and rejoice at the same time?
Contemplating on it, my mind was brought to Aslan, the great and terrible, yet loving and gentle "god-lion" of Narnia. I pictured Lucy's relationship with him and how she feared his rebuke greatly (both in Prince Caspian and The Voyage of the Dawn Treader). Yet, she rejoiced to see him and to touch his mane. Her desire was so great to please him, that though she strayed and did things that displeased him, his faintest hint of displeasure was enough to call her back to obedience.
Lucy trembled to touch the Lion. Can you imagine the great excitement and joy and rejoicing she experienced when Susan and herself were allowed to place their hands on his fur and walk with him as he gave himself up for them (though they surely did not understand it at that point). They trusted and delighted in him, yet their fear of his power and greatness was enough to may them think twice about drawing near to him.
"Kiss the Son, lest he be angry...for his wrath is quickly kindled." Intimacy with Jesus is a privilege that all believers are invited into, but do we think twice before we "bury our cold hands into the beautiful sea of fur"? Jesus is the LION OF JUDAH! He is great and terrible. Meek and mild he may be, but if you have read the description of what he looks like now at the right hand of God the Father in Revelation 19:11-16, it tells the story of his deadly potential. It seems that there is delicate balance between loving and enjoying the closeness of the Lion and fearing his power.
Tremble as you touch the Lion, but rejoice as you do. 
Just like Aslan, Jesus is the Lion of Judah (Hosea 5:14, Revelation 5:5) and though we long to touch his mane, we must tremble as we do because his potential for power and damage is great. If I have any scent of sin or disobedience, he has the right to growl and roar and claw me to shreds. Do we realize that the Great Lion is also a holy Lion?
Merriam-Webster defines "holy" as:

"Exalted or worthy of complete devotion as one perfect in goodness and righteousness."

Do I have anything in my life that might offend his goodness and righteousness? I long to and rejoice to touch the lion and "kiss the Son," but I better fear his power enough that I double-check my heart for anything that might evoke a growl from the Lion of Judah.