Friday, November 21, 2014

The Light


Gulf Shores 2012

The LORD is my light and my salvation-- whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life-- of whom shall I be afraid?  Psalm 27:1

If it were up to my flesh,  I'd prefer to stay complacent, comfortable.

Unmoving.

Many of the chapters of my life still raise gigantic question marks for me.

My eyebrows lifted as I question why?

Pages of my story stained by too many tears to count.

And he answers, I know the number.  For I store your tears in a jar (Psalm 56:8).

Yet, sorrow, is never the main theme.

Page after page of my life reflect the kindness and redemption of the Father.

His mercy, compassion, and tenderness towards me.

His light.

Often His prodding me to more is like a strong shove into places I'd never choose on my own.

Sometimes into the dark.

Times where I feel swallowed whole into a thick expanse of forest.

Stark gray trees rising to endless heights.

Black spindly arms like skeletons against the sky.

The wilderness.



Hosea 2:14-23 speaks of Him alluring us into the wilderness.

Speaking tenderly to us.

Giving us a new name, betrothing us to Him forever.


Held by Grace - m singleton


The absolute last place I'd choose on my own and He graciously, tenderly, lovingly calls me to more.

The wilderness is often a rescue.  A painful rescue.  For He wants ALL of us.  All of our heart.

God was in the dark cloud where Moses met Him (Exodus 20:21).  And He is in the darkness with us.

The wilderness and wandering often stir a desire
so intense that my chest aches with longing for more of Him.

Other times, the desolate surroundings leave me feeling like Little Red Riding Hood.

Lost in a vast sea of danger.

My passion for Him can quickly turn to worry and fear.

Doubt.

Panic.

My orphan-mentality can propel me to numbing out, anger, restlessness, defeat, despair, addiction...you name it.

And then what about those times when I'm begging for quick rescue?

And the response seems to be...nothing.

Silence from God.

Some of my most sorrowful hours have been wandering in the dry ashes of grief with a seeming indifferent God.

Knowing all the while the Maker of the universe is in perfect control, able to pull me out.

So Why doesn't He?

When chapters often end and begin anew with an unchanged plot-- me still walking battered down dry paths, why won't He pull me out when I want?

Just as golden beams crest above the horizon at daybreak, His light eventually ruptures the wilderness...in His timing.

You see, that is part of the rescue.  Time in the wilderness being wooed by the Father can be transforming if we allow Him to hold us in the ravaging winds.

As I emerge beaten, bruised, and parched from the storms, His light kissing my soul, I realize the darkness was a kindness and mercy from the Father.

To refine and draw me nearer to Christ in His sufferings.

When I am willing, the wilderness can be a time of deep intimacy with my Savior.

I may feel parched and dry, but His word waters, His arms enfold, His light breaks through even when circumstances remain unchanged or worsen.

It is always Him holding me, after all.

To Him be the glory!







{photo credit:  http://wallpaperswide.com/}

2 comments:

Alecia Simersky said...

I know when you're in those moments of being in the fire it is uncomfortable and downright painful. But what beauty emerges when we come out the other side. We've been refined by a loving, kind, caring God. You've captured the wilderness walk beautifully in your words.

Betty Draper said...

I love that ache you mention...don't like the silence but know each one is building my faith in the one who choses to speak or not to speak and each decision He makes is for building my faith in Him. Good post.