Entering His Presence

 

I went out to the barn today for the first time in quite a while. 

I went out there because I needed to pray undisturbed, which is very hard to do in my house full of daughters and a husband who thinks of a million things he needs to get out of our bedroom the minute he realizes that I need to be alone in there. That’s just the way it goes, I suppose. So today, I trekked out to the barn so I could spend time with the Lord without the hovering anxiousness of potential interruption. 

As soon as I got out there, I wanted to enter His presence, but the barn was a colossal mess. The horse was hungry, doors and windows were open that needed to be shut. Lead ropes and harnesses were all over the floor, which was  covered in a year’s worth of barn dust and stray hay. I thought to myself, “I’ll tidy up this little thing and then I’ll pray.” But one little task led to another. The horse was adamant about being fed. The back pasture gates needed to be closed and the side gates opened. The stairs where I sit needed to be swept. Once I finished it all, I sat on the steps, my heart content that I was prepared to meet with the Lord. 

And there’s a lesson in that for us. Quite often, we just want to immediately enter God’s presence and get down to business. We tend to forego any preparation to enter His presence. The ancient Israelites were given instructions by God Himself that consisted of elaborate preparations to just to enter His presence. He taught them the need to be mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and even physically prepared to meet with Him. He taught them the need for consideration and reverence when entering His presence. And today, I was reminded of that. 

Through Christ, we have been given access to God in such a way that we may confidently approach the throne of grace to find help in time of need. We may meet with Him anywhere and at any time. He is ever present to hear our cries and consider our prayers. But we seem to have lost sight of our need for preparation to be able to hear His response. We seem to have lost sight of the conditions of the place where we truly meet God, which is somewhere between our personal accountability towards His holiness and our being perpetual recipients of His grace. 

Today, may we remember, consider, and reflect upon His holiness and our need for preparation to enter that holiness. 

(Ex 19:9-11) The LORD said to Moses, “Behold, I will come to you in a dense cloud, so that the people will hear when I speak with you, and they will always put their trust in you.” And Moses relayed to the LORD what the people had said. Then the LORD said to Moses, “Go to the people and consecrate them today and tomorrow. They must wash their clothes and be prepared by the third day, for on the third day the LORD will come down on Mount Sinai in the sight of all the people.

(Rev 7:13-15) Then one of the elders addressed me: “These in white robes,” he asked, “who are they, and where have they come from?” “Sir,” I answered, “you know.” So he replied, “These are the ones who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. For this reason, they are before the throne of God and serve Him day and night in His temple; and the One seated on the throne will spread His tabernacle over them.

(Rev 22:14) Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they may have the right to the tree of life and may enter the city by its gates.

A God Who Forgives

“If you do not forgive others’ their παράπτωμα [Greek ‘paraptoma’: errors, slip-ups, wrong doings, offenses, transgressions, faults], neither will your Father forgive yours.” 

During my morning meditations with the Lord, I thought of my dad. He’s been on my mind a lot lately, wondering if he’s okay. As I thought about him, the words entered my mind: “Curse him.” I immediately recognized it as the voice of the enemy and I responded, “I will not.” As soon as I rejected that thought-harassment from the enemy, the Holy Spirit began to minister to me through Jesus’ words, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” 

When I pray for those who are wayward, I usually pray for the Lord to give them understanding. I pray for them to be given sight so they may see. Those are good things to pray for those who are spiritually ignorant and blind. But in that moment, the Spirit pointed out that our Lord did not ask the Father to give sight and understanding to the men who drove the nails into His hands and gambled for His clothing. Jesus didn’t say, “Father help them see. Help them understand.” He just asked for mercy and forgiveness in the midst of their gross “not knowing what they are doing.”

After the Spirit pointed that out, I whispered to myself, “Do I really forgive my dad?” As far as I am able to discern, I have consciously forgiven him for a lifetime of hurts. I have consciously forgiven him for his final act of indignity to me of not calling me or taking my calls when my mother died. But as I pondered my hurt, I wondered, “I have forgiven him in my mind, but have I forgiven him in my heart? Have I cried out to the Father to give him mercy? For his slate to be wiped clean?” Because that’s the forgiveness Jesus asked for on behalf of the soldiers while they not only nailed Him to the cross, but also committed the final indignity of gambling for His clothing as He hung and watched. Can I forgive like that?

The Lord offered forgiveness to those soldiers in the midst of their gross “not knowing what they are doing.” He didn’t wait around for them to understand, He didn’t hold out on them until they saw, He just interceded for their forgiveness. He asked the Father for mercy. And He did that because of who He is— not because they asked for it or deserved it— but for His own sake, for the sake of His own divine, immutable character, for the sake of preserving His holy name, because He is a God Who forgives. And I think it’s worth pointing out that we are never told whether or not those soldiers ever came to a place of spiritual sight and understanding. We are only told that Jesus forgave them. He forgave, not necessarily so that they may see and understand, but so we can. So we can see that we must forgive because if we belong to Him, that’s who we are. 

We don’t necessarily forgive others for their sake, but for ours, because our Lord dwells within us and He is a God Who forgives. 

(Matt 6:14 AMP) For if you forgive others their trespasses [their reckless and willful sins], your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others [nurturing your hurt and anger with the result that it interferes with your relationship with God], then your Father will not forgive your trespasses.

(Ps 25:11) For the sake of Your name, O LORD, forgive my iniquity, for it is great.

The Weight Of Weariness

It is good for us to feel the weight of weariness. 

It is good for us to become weary of our many books and many voices. Even books and voices that speak of Christ. For not all who write and speak of Christ have the substance of Christ within. Many of us sit at the table of the Lord and pass around the wrappers. We pass the empty boxes and wrappers around the table. We share the outward package, but when we look inside for food, it is empty. But we just keep passing it around because it’s either the only thing we know to do, or it’s the closest thing we have to the food that’s supposed to be inside. We sit at the table of the Lord and starve because no one knows how to get food, they only know how to pass around empty wrappers and boxes. 

So, to teach us how to get food, and to keep us coming to Him alone for food, the Lord allows us to feel the crushing weight of weariness. He allows us to become weary of the packaging. He exacerbates our thirst and hunger so that we may, through our frustration, realize that packaging is not food. Secondhand relationships with Christ (knowing Christ through others’ relationships with Him), may edify and encourage, but they will not ultimately feed. Our Lord plainly told us, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to Me will never hunger, and whoever believes in Me will never thirst.” 

And I will share with you another wise thing of the Lord. Those who are not empty wrappers and boxes may minister for a time, but then the Lord will call them away. Those who do know how to get food, and those who do pass bread and not empty wrappers around the table, will be called to step back. The Lord will do this because, while His children are called to share Him amongst themselves, they should never become the source for each other. It is a spiritually treacherous thing for one who has food to become the source of food, rather than the Lord. This is a very delicate balance one must learn to tread— to minister true food to the Lord’s children, while at the same time, not becoming their source for food. Should we ever begin to become the source and not obey Him when He says to step back, He will make us an empty wrapper. 

Jesus, seeing the hungry masses, asked Philip, “Where are we to buy bread so that these may eat?” Scripture says that Jesus asked Philip this question to test him, because Jesus already knew what He was planning to do. Philip confessed that even if they bought two hundred days wages worth of bread, what they had to offer “is not sufficient for them.” We don’t possess the amount of bread needed, Lord. Then Andrew mentioned a boy who had a few loaves and fishes. It was all they had, and they placed it into the hands of the Lord, and then the Lord Himself “distributed to those who were seated…as much as they wanted.”

In this great feeding of the hungry masses, the only two things Jesus asked His disciples to do was, “Have the people sit down,” and “Gather up the leftover fragments so that nothing will be lost.” The people were hungry, but the disciples both realized and confessed that they could not feed them, that what they had was insufficient. But they gave what little they had to the Lord. They put it in His hands, so that the Lord Himself would be both source and distributor. 

“…and filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barely loaves which were left over by those who had eaten.”

When Is It Due?

“When is it due?”

My 7th Grade class just finished the book “Bruchko.” Their final project is to write a 5-paragraph essay in which they must choose three forms of conflict in the book and explain how those conflicts help to advance the plot. I have a very detailed lesson plan for this project. I have writing organizers that teach how to write a thesis statement, an introductory paragraph, topic sentences, body paragraphs, transitions, a concluding paragraph, and how to restate their thesis. I have PowerPoint presentations that we go through for each element. Once I teach an element of the paper, I review it the next day before I teach the next element. I have the lesson all planned out, step by step, everything ready to be taught and explained when it’s the right time— building my students’ understanding as each concept is learned. 

And the first thing my students wanted to know before I even began the first lesson was, “When is this due?” Followed by a barrage of panicked questions— “How do I…? What does…? What is…?” I hadn’t even begun the lesson, and the first thing they wanted to know was when it would be finished. I hadn’t even opened my mouth to begin teaching them, and their first impulse was to demand answers based on their lack of understanding. And after work that day, when I was walking out to my car thinking about the panic and fear on the faces of my sweet little 7th Graders’ faces earlier in the day, the Holy Spirit said, “You do that.”

Jesus said that everyone who hears from the Father will learn from Him. Problem is, many of us are not willing to sit through the lesson. Before the Lord even opens His mouth to speak, we ask, “When is this due? What will be accomplished?” His lesson plan is meticulously laid out, designed to build our understanding as each concept is learned, but we ask questions and demand answers before we give Him the opportunity to teach us any of it. 

We’re like Martha, “distracted by all the preparations that had to be made,” when we should be like Mary, “who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what [Jesus] said.”

(John 6:45) It is written in the Prophets: “And they will all be taught by God.” Everyone who has heard the Father and learned from Him comes to Me…

(Heb 8:10,11) For this is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the Lord. I will put My laws in their minds and inscribe them on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they will be My people. No longer will each one teach his neighbor or his brother, saying, “Know the Lord,” because they will all know Me, from the least of them to the greatest.

(1 John 2:27) And as for you, the anointing you received from Him remains in you, and you do not need anyone to teach you. But just as His true and genuine anointing teaches you about all things, so remain in Him as you have been taught.

Thank You

Thank You

Thank You for frustration and futility

For starving my flesh and not allowing it to be satisfied 

Thank You for sorrow and struggle and regret and loss

For teaching me my limits by allowing me to experience brokenness 

Thank You for Your ways that are not like our ways 

For Your thoughts that are not like our thoughts

Thank You for quiet corners and dusty barns

Thank You for silent closets and lonely bedsides 

Thank You for mistakes that taught humility 

Thank You for ambitions not realized and plans unfulfilled 

And for prayers not answered

And answers not given 

Thank You for Your pruning shears 

Thank You for the many years 

Of deafened ears 

And countless tears 

As You sat near

And shaped me by Your own hand 

(Rom 8:19-21) The creation waits in eager expectation for the revelation of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not by its own will, but because of the One who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.

Disengaging The Devil

Sometimes you just have to let the devil have the argument. 

I was starting to get into an argument with someone yesterday and the Lord reminded me that sometimes, the best answer is deafening silence. There will be times when no matter how much truth is spoken, the argument will continue, ad nauseam, because the one with whom you are arguing does not care about truth, they only care about being right. 

So, you will have to walk away, allowing them to assume they are right and that they have silenced you with their argument. And you will be humbled by your silent obedience to the Lord. And a little of your flesh will die, because you will be tempted to rebut just one more time, your flesh will cry out to have its say, but you mustn’t. For in so doing, you will be strengthened in your inner man, and you will rise above the argument itself, to where all those who walk by the Spirit dwell. 

Indeed, we are called to speak truth. But there will be times when we encounter individuals who will attempt to draw us into arguments that, if we continue to engage in them, will bring shame upon Christ’s image in us. An image that does not engage in petty, circular argument. An image that speaks the truth, and then moves on when it becomes apparent that no truth is desired. 

An image that is neither offended nor bothered to let the devil have the argument. 

(Luke 23:9) Herod questioned Jesus at great length, but He gave no answer.

(Mark 15:5) But to Pilate's amazement, Jesus made no further reply.

(Matt 26:62,63) So the high priest stood up and asked Him, “Have You no answer? What are these men testifying against You?” But Jesus remained silent…

(Matt 27:12) And when He was accused by the chief priests and elders, He gave no answer.

(Prov 19:8,9) Mockers inflame a city, but the wise turn away anger. If a wise man has an argument with a fool, the fool only rages and laughs, and there is no quiet.

Mighty Oak, Lowly Seed

We are inspired by the mighty oak far more than we are inspired by its seed. 

This morning the Lord ministered to me about the subtle idolatry of beautiful words. I love beautiful words and there is a desire present in me to inspire, to stand in front of a mighty army and pour forth words that build them up and inspire them to do great things. And that is a very dangerous desire. It is a fleshly desire that must be sanctified through periods of God-imposed silence. He asks, “Will you follow Me, even in the silence?” Yes Lord, for I know I must. 

This morning He showed me the shadowy outline of a human form and a seed was placed within it. The words that came into my mind were, “A small, lowly seed. Hidden. Unseen. Unnoticed.” But then the seed began to grow. Roots began to grow out into the body, then tender stems sprouted forth into the limbs of the body, and I watched as the whole human form was overtaken by the growth coming forth from that small, lowly seed. Every shadowy part of that form was eventually overtaken and filled with all the life that was contained in that hidden, unnoticed seed. And once the form was filled to capacity, branches broke through and grew outward, and that form became a mighty oak that spread out all over the land, and birds came and rested in its branches. 

This morning the Lord explained to me that I cannot build a house with beautiful words. Houses built merely with inspiring words will eventually grow into something that only feeds the flesh. For in our love of the inspiration that those words give, we will begin to desire the words more than the Word-Giver. Thus, we must understand that a house is built with a small, lowly seed. And it is only through that unnoticed, hidden seed that the mighty oak springs forth and covers the landscape with its awe-inspiring branches. 

So I prayed, “Oh Lord, give me lowly uninspiring seeds!”

(Matt 13:31,32) The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that a man planted in his field. Although it is the smallest of all seeds, yet it grows into the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and nest in its branches.

(John 12:24) Truly, truly, I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a seed; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

(Is 61:3,4) …So they will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified. They will rebuild the ancient ruins; they will restore the places long devastated; they will renew the ruined cities, the desolations of many generations.

Life…Life…Life

 

“…life…life…life…left behind at every touch.”

I haven’t finished Carmichael’s book about Mimosa yet, but one of the things I’ve been contemplating the last few days while reading it, is something that Lilias Trotter said one day while observing a bee covered in pollen, “He was hovering over some blackberry sprays just touching flowers here and there, yet all unconsciously life…life…life…was left behind at every touch.” 

The day that Mimosa had her brief encounter with Amy Carmichael, and Carmichael only had time to tell her that there was a God in heaven Who loved her, life was left behind at that touch. That is because those who belong to the Lord and have been in His true presence, are like the bee covered in pollen, unconsciously leaving behind life at every touch.  Life begets life, and quite often, our begetting is done unconsciously simply by living the life that the Beloved has appointed us to live. 

Whether a teacher, a baker, or a candlestick maker, when we walk with the Lord, we are clothed with Him, and everything in our path is touched with His life-giving spirit. On the day that Mimosa was awakened to the truth of Who God is, it wasn’t because Carmichael’s words were particularly eloquent, nor many. It was simply because her words were full of the Lord’s life-giving spirit. And on that day, Carmichael left behind life…life…life…at every touch. 

Oh Lord, make us like the bee. 

(John 6:63) It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.

(John 5:21) For just as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whom He wishes.

(2 Cor 3:6) And He has qualified us as ministers of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.

(Acts 5:18-21) They arrested the apostles and put them in the public jail. But during the night an angel of the Lord opened the doors of the jail and brought them out. “Go, stand in the temple courts,” he said, “and tell the people all about this new life.” At daybreak they entered the temple courts, as they had been told, and began to teach the people.

It Is Well

“I am not offended with you…it is well.”

These words cut my heart like a sword. I am currently reading a book by Amy Carmichael about a young Indian woman named Mimosa. When Mimosa was a child, she had a momentary encounter with Carmichael who simply told her that there was God in heaven Who loved her. After those few words were shared, Mimosa was whisked away by her father, back to the Hindu village where they lived, with no other Christians to explain anything to her, nor encourage her. But the seed of truth had been planted in her heart, and there was nothing it could do but grow. 

The book recounts the events of Mimosa’s life after that brief encounter. A life filled with hardship and tragedy. An arranged marriage to a husband who was in debt and would not work to help provide for his family. Her precious son who died in her arms. A life of work in the fields, rain or shine, while her babies waited hungry at home. A community that despised her, and scorned and ridiculed the God she served. A house made of mud that caved in all around her during the monsoon rains. And through it all, she looked to heaven and said to a God she barely knew, “I am not offended with you…it is well.”

Last night, as I got a little over halfway through the book, I closed it and began to contemplate how I would react if I were to endure Mimosa’s circumstances. Convicted by her simple, yet stoic faith, I asked God to help me have a heart like that. I prayed that He would sanctify me of self-pity, of any latent indignance, of any lurking tendency to offense in me. I prayed that no matter what my circumstances, no matter what I find myself appointed to endure, that I would have a heart which looks to heaven and says…

“I am not offended with you…it is well.”

(Matt 11:4-6) Jesus replied, “Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor. And blessed is any person who does not take offense at Me.”

(1 Thess 5:16-18) Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. Give thanks in every circumstance, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

(Ps 34:1-3)  I will bless the LORD at all times; His praise will always be on my lips. My soul boasts in the LORD; let the oppressed hear and rejoice. Magnify the LORD with me; let us exalt His name together.

In The Quietness Of The Closet

The world is loud and the arguments are many, as I sit here in my quiet closet. 

Sometimes my life feels as if I’m being carried along by a white-capped wave in a stormy sea. Sometimes I hold my breath and go deep into the water, where it’s quiet and everything seems graceful and flows with effortless ease. I want to stay here in the deep, where I’m alone. Where it’s quiet and removed from the white-capped waves from above. But I can only hold my breath for so long. And then I must return to the surface, and continue to ride the wave in the storm. 

I want to understand what I’m being taught. I want to see it in a bullet-point list. I want to say, “Aha! Here is the thing I must comprehend!”, and then set about to comprehending it. “Comprehend this thing you are being taught…,” I want to tell myself. “Reach out and grasp this thing…,” my will says to my hands. But the white-capped waves and my inability to breathe underwater continually remind me of my utter helplessness. I am at the mercy of the one who both controls the storm and creates things to breathe underwater. 

The flesh rages against helplessness. Because the flesh wants bullet-point lists. The flesh wants to control the storm. The flesh wants to breathe underwater by sheer willpower. But the spirit is content to sit in the quiet closet, for however long it takes for the unknown lesson to be learned. 

Oh Lord, may my spirit win. 

(Matt 6:6) But when you pray, go into your inner room, shut your door, and pray to your Father, who is unseen. And your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.

(Ps 91:1,2) He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.

(Ps 27:4,5) One thing I have asked of the LORD; this is what I desire: to dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the LORD and seek Him in His temple. For on the day of trouble He will conceal me in His tabernacle; He will hide me in the secret place of His tent; He will lift me up on a rock.

Press On

Lately I’ve been wondering if Jesus ever wanted to go back to the miracle in Cana. 

I often see things I’ve posted in the past pop up on Facebook, and I marvel that I ever wrote them. I wonder at the spiritual food present in those writings, where did such nourishment come from? Surely not my own heart. A heart full of rooms with creaky doors and dusty corners. A heart that looks back on things I’ve written in the past, longing to feel the tangible nearness of Christ I felt then, rather than the faith I’m being taught to have in His presence now. 

Sometimes I long to go back to those days in my barn. Those days of His palpable presence and the outpouring of His living water day after day. And I wonder if Jesus ever longed to go back to simpler days during times when the Father was teaching Him the grueling exercise of pressing on? Pressing on in the silence? Pressing on in the darkness? Pressing on when you feel nothing at all? Pressing on when you feel too much? Pressing on when you are tempted to look back on “once was,” instead of looking ahead for the “to be.”

Paul teaches that we must not dwell on the things that have passed behind us, but rather, we must press on…”straining toward what is ahead.” He says we must “press on toward the goal to win the prize of God’s heavenly calling in Christ Jesus.” And I believe that Paul teaches us this because he was well-acquainted with the temptation to look back with longing for simpler days and mountaintop moments. 

But he was also well-acquainted with the Spirit of Christ, Who continually calls to us, “Press on!”

(Phil 3:13,14) Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize of God’s heavenly calling in Christ Jesus.

(Heb 12:1,2) Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off every encumbrance and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with endurance the race set out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith…

(Heb 3:1) Therefore, holy brothers, who share in the heavenly calling, set your focus on Jesus, the apostle and high priest whom we confess.