I wrote the following three months ago. This past year, as it comes to its close, has been a year of much change and heartache, for many. God is faithful beyond anything...and He so delicately, tenderly and mightily orchestrates each precious moment of our lives...
I feel like sometimes when I write or speak of the beauty He has interwoven into my life and my story...that I can't possibly describe it all...my words are inadequate and in addition, His workings are so individual and personal and precious to me...
Sometimes they are things that only He and I can fully share.
And I am not special. I have done absolutely nothing to earn or deserve such a romancing of the depths of my heart and soul.
How profound and beautiful to know that He loves and knows each of us in such a way, that the unknown depths...the aches, the joys, the wounds, the sorrow...
Are KNOWN by Him.
There is much I have learned in these past few years. There is much that I am still learning.
Firstly...brokenness does not disable us from being used by the Lord...in fact, it equips us. Suffering is beautiful, and it is what we are called to when we call ourselves Christians and claim Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior.
And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
-2 Corinthians 12:9 King James
[the Prosperity Gospel as well as Dominion Theology has come to make me feel sick in the pit of my stomach...it breaks my heart, and it leads so many sincere Christians astray, particularly our generation, who are longing for something 'real' and passionate...We desperately need the Word of God, and we need it in context.
Secondly, and related to all of this...I once realized that I didn't fully understand the Love of God. But I wanted to understand, I earnestly wanted to. But what I chased after, ultimately left me empty handed still...
Because the LOVE of my Lord is not determined by some experience, or some amazing time of prayer or worship session. It is not defined by constantly trying to maintain a spiritual high or to feel a certain way or to encounter Him in a special way...all these may be the result, but they are not the focal point...and they most certainly can become idols and distractions and lead us down a very broad but dangerous road...
Jesus Christ once said that we should be take care lest the light that is in us is darkness. (Luke 11:35)
But I fear, lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtlety, so your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ.
-2 Corinthians 11:3
As I began to walk away from emotionalism and experience-driven Christianity, I began to understand the subtlety and falsehood I was immersed in, and I found myself deeply grieved.
No, the Love of my Lord is defined by what Jesus Christ did for me on that Cross.
And that is PROFOUND. That is what brings me to tears. That is what brings me to repentance. That is what took me so long to understand.
That is the simplicity of the Gospel. That is the Joy of my Salvation.
Upon my desk, lies a bulletin board full of pictures. Pictures of childhood and laughter, pictures of warmth and joy and safety.
A picture of my daddy helping me with my new ballerina Barbie doll, a campfire surrounded by dear loved ones, of cousins playing in the warm waters of our summer lake.
Grandparents. Family. Love. Love. Love. Joy.
Upon my desk, a mug, that once held my grandmother's daily green tea. Still bearing the stains of its diurnal teabags, and the worn efforts of their removal. The warmth it has held through many years lives on.
She was my best friend. Truly.
Upon my desk, a golden Cross. Which once laid upon my grandpa's casket on a mournful day in May 2003. A reminder of loss...A reminder of Promise.
A reminder of Hope in the Resurrection. In Jesus Christ, the Savior of the World.
Upon my desk, pictures made for me by my favorite pre-schoolers. A deeply treasured time of life stored in colors and shapes and names.
So much love. So much joy. A precious, precious time.
Upon my desk, rocks and books about rocks.
Passion, interest, and fascination.
Upon my desk, a book called Heaven. By Randy Alcorn. Filling 492 pages.
Hope. The Word of God. In Christ Jesus.
Upon my heart, a favorite hymn. I find myself contrite and broken, and redeemed.
I love that I get to think about rocks all the time, and that I am in a place surrounded by rocks
of all kinds.
Yeager Rock glacial erratic (it is massive)
Swaukane Gneiss (cute little garnets in there!)
Columbia River Basalt
Exploring a Lava Tube and representing CWU
Mt. St. Helens
I love that half the time I am so intimidated and challenged...that when I accomplish what I need to get done, I feel so refreshed and excited for what's next.
Mt. St. Helens and Spirit Lake from Mt. Margeret
I love that even when I feel like I hate it and that I'm not smart enough, I still love it and want to keep going.
I love that I get to be surrounded by people that are passionate about what they are studying. People who I know will be life-long friends.
I love that I get to study volcanoes, and magma chamber processes...
...and that there probably isn't a person in the world who doesn't think volcanoes are cool,
because even when they erupt and cause great destruction
...so much life springs from them.
I love Mt. St. Helens...and my experience and time there deserves a blog entry of its own.
I am so thankful for this opportunity...thankful for friends and family who support me in this grand adventure.
Thankful for the Lord who led me here. Thankful for His Kindness, Faithfulness, and Enduring Love in the midst of my fear and trepidation...thankful that He is always near.
I am deeply blessed.
Me, my new friend Joe the astronomer, and Mt. St. Helens as a backdrop. He showed me different nebulas, galaxies, star systems, and we even got to see Jupiter and its moons as it came over the horizon. My favorite constellation he showed me was "The Northern Cross". We talked about science, astronomy, geology, life, loss, and faith. It was a blessing to meet him.
This is a weekend of anniversaries. And I don't want to forget. I want to remember. They are painful reminders, but at the same time: beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.
This morning marks 10 months. It is amazing how deeply I have healed despite the pain that is ever-present...lingering in the background or panging at the forefront...an ache that is a reminder of how deeply I have loved and been loved, how blessed I have been to know such a precious woman, such wonderful grandparents, and how strange it is that I now have to traverse this long road without her... That it has been 10 long months since her absence left the world a much colder and scarier place...and sometimes it seems like a dream. I think sometimes I wonder if she'll be there when I go back home. I think it feels almost as if it's just been a long time since I've seen her, sat with her, laughed with her, and hugged her good night. But then, I am reminded that what happened last Christmas, was real...
Christmases have been very hard for the past few years...holidays in general, but for some reason the losses that have occurred have been concentrated around this time. It has become quite an emotionally volatile season, even the very mention of it brings up an emotional torrent, at times. I'm not sure how I will respond to being home again for it. We are attempting to make new traditions, as well as honor the old ones as best we can. I think I will be very thankful to simply be with loved ones. Honestly, sometimes everything that has happened seems like a dream. That said, Christmas has never meant more to me...
I don't want to always speak of the sadness...I used to think that I have failed because it has been so present within me for the past few years. Mostly that I failed as a Christian to always be joyful. I'm not sure where the idea came that: Christian = constant happiness. I don't think any of us really believe that, but the idea has somehow perpetuated. Perhaps it is, in part, our very human longing for control...
Walking through all this has taught me a lot about the importance of being authentic, transparent, and honest about grief, sorrow, and hardships. The world doesn't need another plasticized smile, it does not need fabricated joy, but it does need the kind of Joy that is truly in Christ. I guess that's led me to a search for an understanding of what that Joy really is, and what it really means to shine the light of Jesus Christ in this dark world...I really don't think He is as present in the 'show', as He is in the simple, humble word of encouragement...or the simple presence of a friend who is willing to love and listen, to care and cry with you.
Tomorrow morning will mark three years since a dear friend departed to his heavenly home. It was that day, three years ago, which marked the beginning of a long season of loss and heartache. The shock of losing him caught me so off guard. The circumstances which surrounded it made it all the more painful.
The private college I attended in that season of life held a late-night communion service each Wednesday, and my dear friend Nicole and I would go together each week. This particular night was in celebration of the coming All Saints Day.
And the verses that were shared that night, the night of losing such a precious friend, loved one, neighbor, so tenderly spoke to my heart. I remember, sitting there, trying to take it all in. Absolute shock and turmoil had assailed me, and my whole insides seemed to be twisted. The first reading was the story of Lazarus, from John 11.
(At this point in my life and in my faith journey, I am very sensitive to any misuse of scripture, or any twisting from its original context...so I wish to include it in its entirety) http://www.esvbible.org/John+11/
I will not elaborate at this time...but I will simply say that the sentence "Jesus wept." was a deep comfort and a blessing to hear...at a time in which my whole world seemed shattered, to know that the Savior of the world and my God cares...that He is moved by our sorrows...to the point of expressing it in such a simple, humble form...
One day, He will wipe away every tear. How personal and intimate is that? It is not just that sorrows, death, mourning and pain will be gone, but:
"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
(Revelation 21:4 ESV, emphasis mine)
Death does not have the last word. Christ had the last word when He spoke 'It is finished' on the sacred, wondrous cross and in this chapter in which He speaks:
And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”
“It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment. The one who conquers will have this heritage, and I will be his God and he will be my son. But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.” (Revelation 21:6-8 ESV)
I include the entire context because it is both an immense comfort and joy, but also a poignant reminder of the great cost and consequence of sin. It is of utmost importance that we do not ignore this portion of scripture, or this facet of our God. He is not only perfectly Kind and perfectly filled with Grace and Comfort, but also perfectly Just.
Is that context of a fallen, broken world articulated any better than in the sorrows which surround? Can we believe in both the sovereignty and the goodness of God in the midst of such pain and heartache? Is our God big enough, and yet personal enough to handle our doubts, our anger, our frustrations, our questions, our fears, our expounding cries of "How long, oh Lord?"
But even more, that context is best articulated by the Cross...the cost...the precious blood of Jesus Christ. Who bore our sins, who bore our burdens. Who stepped down and walked through every heartache, burden and sorrow that this world has ever known...lived a sinless life, and paid the price for our sins. To demonstrate God's Love for us. http://www.esvbible.org/Romans+5/
"but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation."
(Romans 5:8-11 ESV)
And so, not only is the consequence of sin articulated in the Cross of Jesus Christ, but also the immensity of the Love, the Grace, and the Justice of our God. Can therefore joy and sorrow be considered mutually exclusive? Perhaps they dwell together, illustrating not only the pang of living in this world, but displaying the Hope that is only found in Christ and ultimately the Glory of God.
As I reflect upon my heartaches and my losses...I am reminded of all this. These aren't easy questions
and these are not easy answers. They are gut-wrenching. God is not about the surface or the superficial, but He dives into the depths with us.
He does not ignore our very human needs and our shortcomings. He is present in the messy, the ugly, the emotionally torrential, in the storm...He knows our hearts better than we know our own...and His Love is greater than we can comprehend...both sovereign and great, personal and intimate...we look to the Cross, and we look to our Hope in the resurrection and truly "the life of the world to come"...
He wept, and He weeps with us. And He will wipe every tear from our eyes.
Here are a few links that have been of great comfort and perspective:
The grief of loss is such that we will all know it in the span of our lives. It will disturb everything we've once known, and shake us to the core. Pain will assail our hearts, and we will find ourselves helpless and empty-handed. That is the nature of grief. It takes no shortcuts. It has no straight path, but crossroads and corridors and forks and valleys and mountains are plenty.
There is One who bore our sins and our sorrows, who walks with us in the heartache, who leads us in the darkness and the storm.
He will never leave us, never forsake us, never abandon us.
And in the pit of deepest despair...true Hope is found. He brings purpose through the pain. And joy and sorrow dwell together. And our faith is authenticated through this process.
It's not as easy to swallow as the Gospel of Prosperity, for it seems more bitter than sweet at first taste,
but it is far more nourishing and far more valuable. More precious than gold or silver:
In suffering and pain, Christ is ever-present, and often, therein, the exceeding preciousness of the Savior of the World is found and known.
"Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed."
It makes sense, I suppose, in light of everything that has happened.
That at the first sign of school-related stress, a massive surge of grief would be triggered.
The last time I felt the way I did today, was the night before the last final of my undergraduate career. Trying to write a paper, trying to study for a comprehensive exam, worrying about her. Only wanting to be near her. Knowing that everything I have ever known, was falling apart, again.
I called home...I found out...they couldn't even do Chemo. They couldn't do surgery. They couldn't do anything. She was just going to die. She was going to have to die that painful death, and we were just supposed to accept it.
The helplessness. The pain. The way I cried out, tears staining the floor as they drenched my face in a meeting room of our student union.
I so wish I could be okay by now. But it hasn't even been a year. And here, I am stepping into the anniversary time of so much loss and heartache. Sick of this dialogue. Sick of having to express it time after time after time after time. Sick of the fact that not one person knows how to properly relate [and for that, I lay no blame]. Sick of feeling as if I have no control over these emotions. Sick. SICK. sick.
But now that that is expressed, I'm going to go back to summarizing that scientific paper about seismic coupling in subduction zones.
So here displays the importance of expressing the pain and properly walking through it. It's really, really hard to be honest and transparent. It requires great vulnerability.
He knows. He understands. He cares. He promises to wipe away every tear. That's all I do know.
I wake up in the morning, often to the sprinklers outside my window, and realize I'm not in Minnesota anymore.
22 years of life, and here is this HUGE transition. So many facets of life that will never be the same.
So many losses in these past years, past months, past weeks...so many changes in family dynamics. So many things that will never be the same. Heartbreaking, heartwrenching, painful.... An emotional earthquake with aftershock after aftershock...I guess these past few years, you could say, have been very tectonically active? [I just read an article which related loss to an earthquake, and the geologist in me really took hold of that metaphor.]
I said farewell to friends, to family, and all things familiar and safe.
And here I am, in Ellensburg, Washington...trying to rediscover who I am, and who I am being transformed and molded to.
It's been absolutely terrifying, to be perfectly honest. It's been tearful and painful and confusing in many, many ways.
I never even knew Ellensburg existed before 6 months ago.
I found a church. It's called Mercer Creek. Before this past Sunday, I honestly hadn't been to a church service for months. And this year, it has honestly been few and far between. I really missed it. I missed the community. I missed the pure-hearted adoration of Jesus. I missed the fellowship and the Word.
This is hard to write about, but I know I want to eventually. I may state it briefly for now, and elaborate later when I am ready. It's not easy, by any means.
I was really, really hurt within a ministry, early this year. It resulted in a lot of painful questioning, including how I related to the Lord and to other Christians. It included how I related to worship and to prayer. It had me deeply questioning what was real and what was not, and it resulted in a lot of research and introspection.
Elitism does not belong in a Christian ministry. And when it becomes the focus and the underlying tone of a ministry, no matter how veiled it is, you are going to see some very bad fruit.
I've been really broken over this, for a long time. But, as I've grappled with and sorted through everything, and as I continue to, God continues to show His Faithfulness. He continues to show who He really is. How He can use even those broken, twisted, false things for His Glory in the end. His overarching sovereignty in this world and His Eternal Steadfastness in all things and throughout time, has been becoming a bigger and bigger reality to me. It has been beautiful. Painful and beautiful.
As I look up, to my left, I look upon a pair of praying hands. It is a plaque that was my great-grandparent's, and for many years, hung in my grandparent's home.
It now hangs in my own home, in dear Ellensburg,Washington.
It is a tender reminder for me to continually pray. A tender reminder to continually trust in He whose Hands hold me, carry me, lead me and guide me. He whose Hands were nailed to a cross for me...
I may be scared. I may be broken. I might just wake up in the morning and have absolutely no clue how I got to this time and to this place.
But I will embrace this new adventure. This Pilgrimage. This painful, beautiful, wonderful journey with my Savior and my King.
Wait, I can hardly wait To look into Your face When the world disappears into Your eyes Wait, I can hardly wait To hear Your sweet voice say You've done well, my good and faithful son Breathe, I can hardly breathe In anticipation Waiting for the day to come When You will shine on me Wait, I can hardly wait To bow down at Your feet Kiss the scars that bore my sins away Breathe, I can hardly breathe In anticipation Waiting for the day to come When You will shine on me
What can I say? What words can I bring?
He is my best friend. He is my Redeemer. He is my Righteousness.
I am broken and weary...
A wayward sinner. Cursed and shattered. Hurt and Lost.
I look around desperately for someplace to rest. For a refuge. For safety and shelter. Battered by the storm, I call out in the night. Only one place do I find the sanctuary for which my heart cries.
Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
-Psalm 91:1
He holds me. He cradles me. He sings over me.
His kindness and tenderness and deep love for me woos my heart. There is passion and pureness and a great filling of my deepest hunger and longings. In Him there is wholeness. In Him there is Peace.
There is a sweetness and a richness in His Arms. My heart knows it. My heart knows He is beautiful and sweet.
Submerged in grief, I find myself longing for a time of rejoicing again, but a breathe of air my lungs do not receive. A long and deep trench of mourning has been my way and my path. But lo, in the waters of grief and sorrow there is a treasure and a nearness to His Heart for which I will eternally rejoice. For my Savior knows too those depths, and His Heart is moved by my sorrow. He dove into those depths Himself and one day will wipe away every tear from every face.
For now, this is my cup and my portion. I do not know the way, but I know the One who tenderly takes me by the Hand and leads me forward. He leads me onward. He dismisses not my sorrows. He sees every tear that flows and falls. He treasures every one.
And there is Joy here. There is gladness. As deep as my sorrow cuts and as deep as the blood of Jesus flowed...there is Joy and Hope and Gladness.
How beautiful is He. How beautiful is He.
How Great is His Love. How personal and deep. How much more real than anything I have ever known? This is the One for whom my heart longs and beats.
And one day, one Day, my greatest dream. The deepest cry and longing of my heart:
I will look into His Eyes. I will meet Him face to Face. I will hear His sweet, sweet Voice. I will see the scars that rescued me.
I will praise Him.
Holy. Holy. Holy.
I will sing.
Until then,
I mourn, I hope, I sing, I praise, I seek, I hunger, I thirst,
I wait. I dream.
Breathe, I can hardly breathe In anticipation Waiting for the day to come When You will shine on me
Pain and sadness has lingered and stayed upon my heart all day long. This happens sometimes. Sometimes the right word, or the right song, or the right thought will come along and awaken something different. But sometimes, the pain just stays.
All day I have been looking for some answer to the pain...
Perhaps I'm not trusting Him enough...perhaps my eyes are not upon Him enough.
Isn't there Joy to be found in His Presence?
Certainly, but what brings us rightly into His Presence...but the Blood of the Lamb Who was slain.
In our brokenness, fragility? Indeed, we have no righteousness of our own.
There He Stands, our Advocate, our Savior.
...
And just because the waves are high, and the wind is wild, and turmoil surrounds.
And the pain rages on.
Does not mean that He is not faithful to my heart.
I cannot go around this storm.
I must go through it.
So for a while, pain shall remain. Emotional and spiritual wounds require healing just as physical ones do... And I will not deny myself this time of healing and resting.
I forget sometimes that healing is a process that often is very painful.
The answer to my pain?
What I suspected all along:
He is Faithful.
Why?
The question that is never far away But healing doesn't come from the explained Jesus please don't let this go in vain You're all I have All that remains
So here I am What's left of me Where glory meets my suffering
I'm alive Even though a part of me has died You take my heart and breathe it back to life I've fallen into Your arms open wide When the hurt and the healer collide
Breathe Sometimes I feel it's all that I can do Pain so deep that I can hardly move Just keep my eyes completely fixed on You Lord take hold and pull me through
So here I am What's left of me Where glory meets my suffering
I'm alive Even though a part of me has died You take my heart and breathe it back to life I've fallen into your arms open wide When the hurt and the healer collide
It's the moment when humanity Is overcome by majesty When grace is ushered in for good And all the scars are understood When mercy takes its rightful place And all these questions fade away When out of the weakness we must bow And hear You say "It's over now"
I'm alive Even though a part of me has died You take my heart and breathe it back to life I've fallen into your arms open wide When The hurt and the healer collide
Jesus come and break my fear Awake my heart and take my tears Find Your glory even here When the hurt and the healer collide [x2]
Jesus come and break my fear Awake my heart and take my tears Find Your glory even here
Yes, yes they are. In such a beautiful, glorious, wonderful place. But what remains is the cutting reminder that this is not Home yet. That the pain and grief and separation of death is dark and real and raw and ever so painful...we were never meant to ache like this. To be torn apart and separated like this. But God...is so, so faithful. And as deep as I have been cut by the many losses I have known the last couple years, there is a deep, deep well of Eternal Hope that rises up within me...
And that better place, that meeting Him Face to face.
That is the most precious dream of my heart.
Because one Day.
That will be REALITY. The Unseen and the Eternal will be before us, and every tear will be wiped away.
We'll see the Rainbow, we'll see the Throne. We'll dance, we'll sing, we will rejoice.
We will stand in awe, gazing upon His Glory and Majesty with our very eyes.
And Wholeness and Home and Beauty will be known in the fullness of our hearts and worship will spring forth from our lips.
I cannot deny that the burden I carry is heavy. When the pain and sorrow and the reality of what has happened washes over me and the ache deep, deep, deep inside wells up within me.
There is this pain of separation. Of brokenness. Of loss of innocence. Of a world come crashing down.
But there is something so profound within all of this.
So simple, yet so profound. And more beautiful than words. Beautiful and tragic and deep and pure and real and hard and strange to make sense of.
Because the Lord knows all of what I feel deep within my heart. He knows it so very personally and intimately...
The Fall.
And the Cross.
The Father knows the pain of separation. He knows it so, so well. His Heart aches and longs for His People just as I long for my loved ones. He knows what it's like, in the deepest sense, to be separated from the ones His Heart longs for. He knows brokenness. He knows of loss of innocence. He witnessed as the world came crashing down, turning from His Heart. Turning from all what was created to be.
Wholeness to Brokenness. Beauty to Fallen. Pure to Tainted.
The Lies. All the Lies which invaded and inured the World He created and loved.
The Lie that God isn't really GOOD. The Lie that we are on our own. The Lie that God isn't for us after all. The Lie that we can do it on our own.
Rebellion. Disobedience.
Separation. Death.
Spiritual Death.
But that is not the end of the story. He went after our hearts. He did not abandon us in our broken state. He has not abandoned us. He will never abandon us. He will never forsake us.
No...He sent His Son.
And Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ came to Earth, humbly as a newborn babe. He walked the paths that many weary human feet had tread. He wept. He healed. He spoke. He washed His Disciples feet. He fulfilled the words of the Prophets. He sweat blood in anguish. He submitted His Will to the Father in all that He did. He was brutally beaten, and He died a painful, agonizing death on a Cross for our Sins. And as He cried:
"Father, Father, why have you forsaken me?"
The Father turned His Face away.
And Jesus Christ, taking on our sin, experienced that very separation from the Father that was ours. He felt our wounds. Deep, deep, deep, deep, deep. He was pierced for our transgressions. He stepped into the depths of our brokenness and shattered nature and sin. He died for us.
And never was there a darker day in History. But that was not the end of the story.
Because the stone was rolled away.
He conquered death, in VICTORY. By His Wounds we are healed. Washed clean, by the blood of the Lamb. What a Beautiful Savior. He reconciled our hearts with God. Jesus Christ opened the door, that we may have Relationship. That we may have Life. The Relationship and Life we were created to have with the God of the Universe. That we may walk with Him and know Him and love Him and worship Him as we were created to.
And as I mourn the loss of many loved ones...as I mourn the wounded state of my heart and soul. As I sit among the ashes...
As I feel in my gut the reality of this very, very broken, thirsty, desperate, longing world.
I identify with the Father's Heart, I identify with the Cross. And my heart, once separated and broken and far from Him, knows and understands and pursues and longs for His Love and Grace and Truth and Tenderness as never before. My hearts deepest longings stirred and awakened. My Identity found in Him.
I know now that while my pain is real...it is raw and it is deep;
It is not the end of me. It is not the end of my relationships with these dear, sweet people. It is not the end of the Story. Redemption falls upon all of this. His Redemption. His Light. His Grace and Love.
His Holy Spirit dwells within me.
I am still here, in this broken, weary land. My heart is longing for its true Home. But Redemption will come. That Day will Come. My Heart burns within me for that Day. That Eternal Longing burns in my heart and soul. That longing for Jesus.
25 I know that my redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand on the earth. 26 And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God; 27 I myself will see him with my own eyes—I, and not another. How my heart yearns within me!
-Job 19:25-27
Job spoke this out of his immense grief, and it resounds deeply within me as well.
When I at last look into those eyes. Those eyes, burning with Righteousness, Jealousy, Holiness, Majesty, and Love. The Lion and the Lamb.
Redemption's Song is moving upon the Earth. Seek Him. Seek His Heart.
May our hearts yearn within us.
How Love Wins
This is how Love wins, every single time
Climbing high upon a tree where someone else should die
This is how Love heals, the deepest part of you
Letting Himself bleed into the middle of your wounds
Someone I really liked to visit with, and who I have known since I was young and who had strong connections to my childhood passed away on the 31st. I just found out...I don't know how to respond. Please pray for his family...his wife has cancer too...I would visit them every summer. They live in my childhood home. Such wonderful people.
I just don't get it. How can I even account for all the pain in my heart? Except that Jesus cares, He understands, and His Love is far greater...
That He goes to those deep places with me. That He isn't finished yet. That He will come again in Glory. That He loves us...even to death, death on a cross.
And that He has conquered the grave, and one day He will wipe every tear from our eyes.
He is so Mighty, Victorious, Glorious, Majestic...
and yet so personal...so tender...so kind...
My heart is pierced...and the brokenness of this world is so heavy. But the Lord is STRONG and He bears it all. He bore it all...
There is something so beautifully profound about suffering and sorrow...that He went to those depths, that He pulled us out of those depths...
So that what was broken may be made whole in Him. What was lost may be found. What was weak may be made strong.
He is unsearchable. Glorious. Beautiful. Mighty.
He consumes it all.
IT IS NOT ENOUGH for us … within the arena of the world's pain merely to know of a God who sympathizes. It is not even enough to know of a God who heals. We need to know of and be connected with a God who experiences with us, for us, each grief, each wound. We need to be bonded with a God who has had nails in the hands and a spear in the heart! Flora Slosson Wuellner, Weavings
