I am not alonePacing the cage; reaching for You.
Vision blurs; heart stirs -
I stand silent, longing, waiting for you.
Pacing the cage; what other choice?
I stand silent, longing, waiting for voice.
Pacing the cage; what other choice?
Silent and longing and waiting for voice -
Silent and longing and waiting for voice.
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It was a long, dark night – black as pitch but for the occasional streak of lightning that would send twisted rods of light through my barred window and across the tiled floor. I shrank from any revelation of my tear-stained face, fearful that the rays of perverted light might reveal more than met the eye. Even that occasional light seemed dark and evil to me – black as the abyss that was my heart, and filthy as my dreams. The fine fortress I had built myself throughout the entirety of my life was crumbling – surrendering before battle had begun. Rain poured in torrents just outside, bathing a barren land of dust and emptiness, even as the layers of pride and self-confidence with which I had packaged and supported a life of good deeds and empty religion were slowly washed away.
I was laid bare before a holy God.
And yet, even in this - the darkest of my despair - hope awaited me. Rescue came.
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It is now six years hence, and I wonder – what exactly have I learned in these six years? They have gone by so quickly… so quickly that I’ve rarely stopped to sit and think. How am I made new? His word tells us that
the old has gone, the new has come… there is no doubt for me that I am His.
How should I then live?
Although I have since been saved, my life redeemed from the pit that was once my home – I cannot pretend that the moments of doubt do not come. They do. And sometimes it seems that He cannot – or will not – give me any answer. The questions arise.
Am I alone in this? At times I hardly dare ask, but I am reminded of the promise when we seek, then we shall find. So I seek – with all the strength that lies within me. And yet it is not my strength. I did not put it there.
And it is now that the faith I have so long spoken of becomes my only hope. ‘
Now faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see… Heb. 11:1’. Still, my heart revolts against the thought of venturing forth blindly, without knowing the end, without seeing.
Lord, my weary heart prays,
will you not answer me? I
have asked You time and again. Please, Lord, please, I cannot find my way.
Ministry is not always easy, and one cannot do it alone. (Let me just tell you right upfront… I know this one from personal experience!) Day after day, as I commit my life and my service to my Lord, I have found that this way is not always easy. The path is not always clear; the road is not always free of obstacles or clearly defined. I often stray; I am so prone to wander. Have you ever felt that at times that your mind is erupting – unable to think clearly on one thought for one moment? I have. The world’s “answers” scream at me, day and night – and though I know the truth, it becomes muddled at times, in the confusion and chaos that is war. For there is indeed a war (as I mentioned in Revolution), not for earthly kingdoms, but for our
very souls. And amidst the confusion, I feel that the Lord is calling me to speak. I long for speech – but my tongue is tied. I long to declare His goodness in a lost and dying world – but I
have no words!
It is so hard to say something and be heard these days. We all live closed off from the rest of the universe, and it seems strange than in a world well renowned for its advancement of technology and communication, we are a people surrounded by loneliness. The more we ache, the more we close ourselves off from the rest, desperate to hide from others our own vulnerability, insecurity, and inconfidence. (Yes, that is a word – I just made it one.) We wonder why we are a society riddled and oppressed by the merciless taskmaster of depression; why divorce and pain and brokenness run rampant through our streets, unchecked and unchallenged. Our minds and bodies are plagued by the slavery of sin –
the disease has infected us all. What will happen when it has run its course? What will rise from the ashes?
What will
you say before a holy God?
In my very bones I feel the weakness; I am plagued by the undying phantoms of past failures – moments when I should have spoken and did not.
And you want me, Lord? What would you have of me? I am surprised how little we try anymore. We have chosen the path of mediocrity and daily – our eyes fixed firmly upon the ground – we plod quietly into oblivion.
I know – because
everything within me
wants to be the mediocre man. Not because there is any glory in it – but because it’s easy. It’s so comfortable. I am indeed guilty of
missing the mark. But then... my eyes were raised. With trembling heart and doubting eye I looked up, and my eyes met the horizon: the glorious goal of each of our lives in Christ: HIM.
It was as if I saw for the first time.
This, indeed, was my Valley of Vision – for even at my weakest point, devoid of either confidence or control (my two strongholds of old!) – I could see with vision I had never known before.
I saw Him.
At times I feel a trifle like Moses. (And not in a good way! ;) I think we all do sometimes – all of us who, in Christ, are called to something more in life. The Lord had given this man a tremendous mission – probably one of the greatest ever given to a single man – and Moses… oh, Moses. Here he is in Exodus 3 (and 4) -
The LORD said, “I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. … So I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land into a good and spacious land… And now the cry of the Israelites has reached me, and I have seen the way the Egyptians are oppressing them. I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt.
But Moses said to God, “Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”
And God said, “I will be with you. (TALK ABOUT PROMISES!) And this will be the sign to you that it is I who have sent you: When you have brought the people out of Egypt, you will worship God on this mountain.”
Moses said to God, “Suppose I go to the Israelites and say to them, “The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, “What is his name?” Then what shall I tell them?
And again, in ch. 4 (he’s a bit hard-headed… like, um, myself!)
Moses said to the Lord, “O Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue.” The Lord said to him, “Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the LORD? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.”
But Moses said, “O Lord, please send someone else to do it.”Wow. Now there’s a different perspective, and no mistake. I was indeed quite a bit like him – always planning the next step, always making sure others had gone ahead that I might be assured of my own safety in the stepping forth. Here is where the push comes to shove – when I am convicted to stand up while others sit (or worse – turn the other way) – is my faith in His faithfulness enough? Do I really believe – believe enough to act – that His grace is
sufficient for me?
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I am reminded of the story of Orual, the embittered, sorrowful queen of the distant land of Glome, whose life has been a series of supposed grievances upon her by the God of the mountain – a god she fears but does not trust.
Her life began in melancholy solitude; father and sister cared little for her, and she roamed the lands of Glome as she pleased. One morning the daylight brought her a second sister, the lovely Psyche, and an obsessive affection grew so in the heart of Orual that small else mattered much to her. She raised the girl almost as her own, and worshipped her almost as a goddess. And yet slowly the people of Glome turned against the beautiful princess, blaming her coming for the dreadful plague spreading throughout the land. And so Psyche was taken; taken to the mountain and offered to its god. The rest of Orual’s life she spent in mourning and in searching for her sister; and in writing the account of the injustices of the gods against her. Till We Have Faces is her story.
I say, therefore, that there is no creature (toad, scorpion, or serpent) so
noxious to man as the gods. Let them answer my charge if they can. It may
well
be that, instead of answering, they’ll strike me mad or leprous or turn
me into
beast, bird, or tree. But will not all the world then know (and the
gods will
know it knows) that this is because they have no answer?
Once I sought as Orual did – for truth, for vengeance, for justice upon my supposed wrong – for an answer. See now how all the Lord has taught me in the past month (give or take) has brought me to this pivotal moment. We are in this world, but not of it – in that I find peace. I have purpose here – to love not only in word and deed, but in action and truth, making the glorious Word of the saving Gospel known while there is yet time. Even as I do not understand or know, I must tremble before a holy, sovereign God who – chief of all joys! – works all events of my life together for my best. All of these paths, all of these thoughts, all the pain and the joy and the triumph of learning has led to this, even as hers did:
He is Himself the answer.
I ended my first book with the words no answer. I know now, Lord, why you
utter no answer. You are yourself the answer. Before your face questions die
away. What other answer would suffice?
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I look back on the events of my past life and I realize that I have no right – no right at all – to ever, EVER doubt Him.
Hannah! HANNAH! When has He ever failed you? When has He ever let you down? When has He ever left you?
Though my prayers were not always answered as
I believed they should be (that’s the interesting part about trusting in a sovereign God!) – they were always answered… above and beyond what I could have hoped or imagined for myself. I want things here; now; certain and steady. I want a foundation here on earth. But that is not what He has promised. He never promised this would be easy; He only said I’d never go
alone. Slowly He has been pulling out from underneath me all the things I once thought certain that I might depend on one thing, upon one answer:
Him.
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One can rarely predict what may happen at the end of a dusty Caborca road. I’m sure I can’t. It’s always an adventure when we put ourselves in His hands and trust to a merciful Providence. And one night, not so very long ago, we saw Him move.
It was our last camp night of Summer Caborca 2005, and we were determined to make this night count. It was an uncommonly hot day – too hot – and the weather too quiet. Something was coming – unbeknownst to us.
We began “diagnosing” and duplicating tapes, preparing for the night of ministry before us. The children’s ministry was all in order, up and running, and during an intense game of “Sharks” – I looked up and saw it coming. Coming from the east, with full, majestic, awe-inspiring force it came: a wall of dust that stretched to the darkening clouds above, obscuring everything in its path and making straight for us.
Oh boy. It was all we could do to tear down all our equipment, pack everything into the RV and jump into our vehicles before it came down – winds at disastrous speeds and dust that hid everything from us but the walls of our own vehicle. We were determined to stay and wait it out – so we did. Justin read aloud Psalm 119 and we prayed for an hour and a half before the dust finally died down – and, cautiously, stepped forth.
The technology was up and running again in another half an hour, and we began to play The Passion of the Christ on the backside of a large semi parked in the camp’s open area. Just as it began the winds began again – with less dust this time but with stronger force. Bandannas and hats were nothing in the face of this torrent. Angrily I slammed myself up against the side of the trailer and began to – inwardly – shake my fist at the heavens.
Why, God? Why, exactly? This is all for You, anyway! Stop it. Stop it now. Why? WHY?
April must have sensed my despair, and immediately for the next hour, she and I immersed ourselves and the entire camp in fervent, passionate prayer. We could not understand; but we knew Him to be faithful and Him we put our trust.
And then – just as suddenly – it stopped. Just plain stopped. The wind was gone. Nate ran up to us in a fury of excitement and told us, in his very quiet voice, to come look at the sky.
The heavy clouds which had darkened the camp all day were parted exactly in half. Above us was a dark sky filled with the brightest stars. Caborca and all its surroundings were drenched in dust and soot, but the moon shone bright on us as the scene of the Crucifixion began and the Gospel was announced afterwards, loud and clear. A few of us broke out into spontaneous hymn-singing in the light of His goodness.
I learned later that during the entire storm one particularly hostile camp member had been forced to find refuge in our RV! For an hour and a half he was bombarded with prayer and with the Gospel, and as we prepared to leave that night, he told us with filling eyes that his life was now Christ’s.
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See now where I have come from; where I am headed. I am headed towards Him.
I am not eloquent; I am faint of heart. But who cares? The God of the universe wants me for His service, and my feet cannot be too quick in running after Him. How beautiful are the feet of those who bring Good News! What does He want from me? Specifically – we’re working on that. (!) But my life is His; He wants all of me. Where then is boasting? It has no place. My only boast in Christ my Lord and what He has done for me.
Hannah! Quit trying to be “deep” and just love people! Just love Him with your whole self. Hold nothing back.
And I encourage you, dear reader, to come beside me. We cannot be of any real use in this world
until we have faces …
So let us choose joy. Let us stand firm. Let us grow in our love for Him and for each other. And let us make His name known, while we yet have breath. The time is short; let us not waste it. He is our answer; none other would suffice. He is everything. We cannot know this complete fulfillment till we have faces; till we find ourselves in Him; until we know – beyond a shadow of a doubt - that our hearts are spoken for. Keep your eyes on the stars and your feet on the ground – on the firm foundation of His good faithfulness that never ceases.
Take heart!
We are only passing through.
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The Valley of Vision
Need of Jesus
Lord Jesus,
I am blind, be thou my light,
Ignorant, be thou my wisdom,
Self-willed, be thou my mind.
Open my ear to grasp quickly thy Spirit's voice,
and delightfully run after his beckoning hand;
Melt my conscience that no hardness remain,
make it alive to evil's slightest touch;
When Satan approaches may I flee to thy wounds,
and there cease to tremble at all alarms.
Be my good shepherd to lead me into the green pastures of thy Word,
and cause me to lie down beside the rivers of its comforts.
Fill me with peace, that no disquieting worldly gales
May ruffle the calm surface of my soul.
Thy cross was upraised to be my refuge,
Thy blood streamed forth to wash me clean,
Thy death occurred to give me a surety,
Thy name is my property to save me,
By thee all heaven is poured into my heart,
but it is too narrow to comprehend thy love.
I was a stranger, an outcast, a slave, a rebel,
but thy cross has brought me near,
has softened my heart,
has made me thy Father's child,
has admitted me to thy family,
has made me joint-heir with thyself.
O that I may walk worthy of thee, my Lord,
that I may reflect the image of heaven's first-born.
May I always see thy beauty with the clear eye of faith,
and feel the power of thy Spirit in my heart,
for unless he move mightily in me
no inward fire will be kindled.
Voyage
O Lord of the Oceans,
My little bark sails on a restless sea,
Grant that Jesus may sit at the helm and steer me safely;
Suffer no adverse currents to divert my heavenward course;
Let not my faith be wrecked amid storms and shoals;
Bring me to harbour with flying pennants,
Hull unbreached, cargo unspoiled,
I ask great things,
Expect great things,
Shall receive great things.
I venture on thee wholly, fully,
My wind, sunshine, anchor, defence.
The voyage is long, the waves high, the storms pitiless,
But my helm is held steady,
Thy Word secures safe passage,
Thy grace wafts me onward,
My haven is guaranteed.
This day will bring me nearer my home,
Grant me holy consistency in every transaction,
My peace flowing as a running tide,
My righteousness as every chasing wave.
Help me to live circumspectly,
With skill to convert every care into prayer,
Halo my path with gentleness and love,
Smooth every asperity of temper,
Let me not forget how easy it is to occasion grief;
May I strive to bind up every wound,
And pour oil on all troubled waters.
May the world this day be happier and better because I live.
Let my mast before me be the Saviour’s cross,
And every oncoming wave the fountain in His side.
Help me, protect me in the moving sea
Until I reach the shores of unceasing praise.
my second home...
Days like this....
