Reflecting on Holy Week

As I take time to reflect on Holy Week and all that it entails, I can only imagine how harrowing these five days must have been to Jesus: walking into a town falling at his feet with cries of "Hosanna!" on Sunday, knowing those very same people would be screaming a much different cry come Friday. Knowing He was about to flip all that the world knew to be true on its head, knowing He was about to overcome death, the Devil and the grave, knowing He was about to reconcile a people He so deeply and truly knew and loved to Himself and His Father once and for all... what incredible beauty lie before Him, and what unimaginable sorrow all at the same time. In order to bring about God's redemption He had to endure shame, suffering, pain, loneliness and anguish that no other can begin to imagine.

One aspect of that pain I've never thought about before was Jesus' knowledge He was going to have to put His mother through the graphic, violent loss of her beloved son. What heartbreak Jesus must have endured. Knowing my love for my mother, and the hardship of any kind of death of a loved one -- let alone one as painful as a crucifixion for someone as beloved as a child -- and knowing Jesus knew full well the pain of death (He, who cried at the tomb of His friend Lazarus), I can't imagine the sorrow He faced knowing He would have to allow her to endure such a hardship. I know this is a small aspect of Good Friday, given the magnitude of all that was endured, done and accomplished, but meditating on this fact makes me further realize my worth to God and the extent of His devotion to and love for sin-filled me.

What an incredible God we serve. He is one who does not do away with suffering, not even for His own mother. To make life here easier would not be enough. He uses the very sorrows Satan deems for our demise and anguish, and walks through them with us, carrying us if necessary, using those very circumstances for our eternal good and His glory.

I need to take a chill pill

I just love when God speaks so clearly. Today I realized I've been in a season of self-reliance. Looking back I see how I've tried to do everything by my own strength... not out of pride or a desire to be in control (for the most part), but mostly because it's how I best know to operate, and when things get crazy, it's my posture in autopilot. We live in a society that promotes self-reliance and being your own boss, and I so easily fall into the traps life, and the enemy, set before me in that regard. And let me tell you, it gets to be exhausting. And draining.

 It's so cool when messages, conversations, prayers and scripture from different corners of life all line up to softly scream one unified message, and that's what's happened to me this week. The message? Chill out, and let Me be God. A woman in my prayer group spoke on the fact that God is the pace-setter of our lives, and our job is to follow. All too often I feel like I’m falling behind and have to sprint to catch up, but in reality I can't and shouldn't go any faster than God leads. The truth is I don't need to sprint to catch up if I am faithfully walking as and how He commands, at the speed He commands, which usually seems to be slower than I'd like (I'm not the best with patience). What I’m really sprinting to catch up to is my own agenda shrouded in religion and/or the world’s way of thinking.

Last week I led a study with the junior highers on patience, and my fervent prayer as of late (completely unrelated to that study) has been that I would walk in step with the Lord. In that prayer I haven't found rest, but stress. Stress because I feel like I need to be so careful in placing my foot in the exact, precise location where God deems it be placed. Stress because I'm not giving Him my feet to place where He pleases, if that makes sense. Phil Wickham's "Sun and Moon" came on the radio this morning, and meditating on the lyrics I was reminded of my responsibility to be the moon -- a mere surface, resting in the sun's presence and thereby reflecting its light. Just like the moon lets the sun do all the work, I need to let go and let God.

 My time with the Lord today led me to Isaiah 30, which brought all of the above together: "In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength." Reflecting on my week, my posture has been anything but restful, quiet and trusting to the core. I'm like the Israelites God speaks to through Isaiah. I have my own plans, and try to fight on my own, even with the best of intentions, and in doing so I run from the Lord, rather than waiting on and relying on Him. I so want to be a woman flooded with unending faith, who peacefully trusts in and waits on the Lord, knowing that He desires peace, joy, love, contentment and freedom for me.

Isaiah 30 talks about a time of blessing and prosperity for the Israelites as soon as they wait on the Lord. It's a time when the adversity and affliction that come from their decisions will be traded in for that still small voice saying, "This is the way, walk in it," which leads them step by step to His glory and their good. Scripture states that at that time the "light of the moon will be as the light of the sun, and the light of the sun will be sevenfold, in the day when the Lord binds up the brokenness." God's light will more fully shine in and through them because their own broken, cloudy agendas and actions will be bound, and God's glory will be able to shine all the more. I love that picture of brokenness being bound -- it's there, but it has no power. It is at God's mercy. May you and I sit at the feet of Jesus today, allowing Him to bind our brokenness and place our feet where He wills. What freedom there is in relying on and trusting in Him!

Severe Mercies

First, I need to ask for your mercy (if there are any of you still checking in on this thing, which is doubtful) for neglecting this space for three months. Oops. Please forgive.

As I've been reflecting on 2011 and preparing for 2012, one piece of scripture that has proven itself in the past year, and is the mindset I hope I carry with me throughout '12 is Philippians 4:4-7: "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

I love Paul's one word command to the Philippians -- Rejoice! Always! Looking back on the past year, there are points when I did the very opposite of rejoicing -- I grieved, worried and questioned God. Seeing the place the trials of 2011 have taken me to today makes me want to dance with joy. In the worst times that 2011 brought, I had reason to rejoice, because God was near, and was working all things for my good out of His love for me. I didn't need to worry about the curve balls thrown at me, or the direction my life was going, because I was in God's hands.

I can so identify with what Elisabeth Elliot calls God's "severe mercies." God had and has such better plans for us, as His people, than we had and have for ourselves apart from Him, and His mercies in our lives sometimes inflict pain because they tear us from the things we sinfully cling to, in order to direct us to the better plans and purposes God has for us. What a celebration, when the morning comes and we are able to see how God proved Himself faithful amid our despair and unbelief. Such a weird and amazing feeling to be able to rejoice over the very thing that once brought so much pain.

May you rejoice, trust and pray in all circumstances in 2012, knowing that your Lord is near and wants to fill you with His life and peace.