Another heart song

Psalm 68:4 “Sing to God, sing praises to His name; lift up a song to Him who rides through the deserts; His name is the Lord; exult before Him!”

My Hallelujah
©12-26-15 Hannah McLean

This is my hallelujah
Hallelujah
This is my hallelujah

There are times when
no other word will do
just hallelujah
Hallelujah
This is my hallelujah

May it always hold great wonder
May it always ring with praise
May it always flow with thanksgiving
May it always exalt Your name

This is my hallelujah
Hallelujah
This is my hallelujah

Though I’m broken
a hallelujah
And in rejoicing
hallelujah
And in confusion, in pain or sorrow
still hallelujah
hallelujah
still hallelujah

This is my hallelujah
Hallelujah
This is my hallelujah

Always the same
Lord, You always remain
Your worth does not change
nor Your heart fall away
Eternal Your way
Who You are always stays
so hallelujah
hallelujah
hallelujah

This is my hallelujah
Hallelujah
This is my hallelujah

Unquenchable love

Many waters cannot quench love
neither can floods drown it.
Song of Solomon 8:7a

I have always liked this verse, I find myself writing it in wedding cards to newly weds because it declares a truth about real love that is assuring for the conflicts and life difficulties that will inevitably arise when you unite two sinners in marriage.

The other day while I was driving, I was talking to the Lord and this verse flooded my mind as I spoke my praise and gratitude to Him...it resulted in a prayer that went something like this:

Lord, I love You with this love; the love that hasn’t been quenched by many waters or drowned by many floods. There have been many waters, Lord, You have been with me in them. And there have been floods, You have given me breath when the waves closed over me. But there is STILL love in me for You that overflows, and it is more than when I entered in. And THAT is real love; it is a result of being in the presence of and on the receiving end of YOUR steadfast love and faithfulness. And what a wonder that is, Lord, that this faulty heart of mine could be rooted so deeply by being covered so thoroughly by the outpouring of Your love and affection. What a glorious God You are; faithful and true and kind and steadfast...so steadfast that I am steadfast because of You, so loving that I can love because of You, so generous that I can be generous because of You, so free that I can be free because of You. Thank You for Your unquenchable love, this moment I pour it back out on You. Rooted in Jesus I pray, Amen.

to be and to remain

“And when He got into the boat, His disciples followed Him. And behold, there arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but He was asleep. And they went and woke Him, saying, “Save us, Lord; we are perishing.” And He said to them, “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?” Then He rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. And the men marveled, saying, “What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey Him?” Matthew 8:23–27

“Be still, and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10a

There seems to be the expectation in these two verses that not only can we BE still, but we can REMAIN still if we know who the Lord is. This should be of great encouragement for us; when fear, anxiety and worry rear their ugly heads, we can dismiss them by being still and considering “what sort of man this is,” by simply knowing He is God. If we align these thoughts with the Bible, this consideration should produce a quietness of spirit in us...one that remains so that when the next storm appears on the horizon or the next wave washes over us, we do not have to fear, panic or worry. When we are with the One whose voice holds authority over all of creation, there is relief and peace to be had. 

Let us rest in it together. :)

A prisoner of hope

“Return to your stronghold, o prisoners of hope; today I declare that I will restore to you double.” Zechariah 9:12

I don’t even know how to begin writing my thoughts on this passage; I am at a place where these words hold such weight and promise that I just have to sit for a moment when I am finished reading them to gather myself before I can proceed.

When reading this verse in the past, I was struck by the phrase “prisoner of hope” and considered it with curiosity. At one point it even inspired a poem, but the phrase never resolved in my heart and I moved past it with a sense of wonder that a generally negative word like “prisoner” could be used in relation to such a lovely word as “hope.”

But during a time of prayer the other day, this phrase set upon my heart with affirmation on the depth of identity. I am a prisoner of hope.

I am a prisoner of hope: I am bound to it, I cannot shake it, I cannot move beyond it, I cannot ignore it...I find myself with conviction of promise in the face of real impossibilities. And as I have looked back over my life since I began walking with Jesus, I see my beautiful "chains" again and again. Let me explain.

Over the last 12 years of my life, I have learned Who God is. I have discovered through His word and prayer and people what are His character, His nature and His promises. I have learned to recognize His voice and to trust the Spirit. I have found Him to be proven and sure and the ONE thing that is certain.

I have also become convinced of His worth, His goodness, His power, His beauty, His faithfulness...and I have found that no matter what life has thrown at me, He has held me and drawn me both to Himself and through the fires where I have emerged victorious and fortified on the other side. And even the battles that currently rage around me have found themselves unable to separate me from this true and magnificent God.

If the Lord has said it, it will be/it is true/it will stand. I am certain of this; not because I can tell you how He will do what He says He will do, but because I know who He is and that He is able to accomplish what He has said He will accomplish.

So here I am, 10 days till the new year begins; my health is worse than it has ever been in my entire life, the state of my body more devastated than it has ever been, the solution to how it can even be repaired from the pit it slumps in is beyond my understanding. But I find myself encouraged, excited and eager. My journal no longer is counting up (Day ___ of praying/waiting/praising for healing), it is now counting down (____ days till healing). And sometimes I feel crazy, because looking into my situation, WHY should anyone in their right mind think healing would come? When there aren’t even answers to the problems that lie inside me, WHY would I think that my health could be resolved?

But Zechariah explains it, I am a prisoner of hope. I cannot shake the promise of the Lord to me. I can’t stop believing that what He said will be...and instead of looking at the 10 days before me and the 15 years of damage done to my physical body and curling up in a hole of despair, I for some reason am feeling uplifted and excited that this is almost over. Why?! Because I know who God is and what He said and what He is able to do...and no matter how much I or life or well-meaning people try to adjust my expectations, here I am.

Because “faith is the ASSURANCE of things HOPED for, the CONVICTION of things NOT seen” (Hebrews 11:1). And I am assured and convicted...a prisoner of hope in the faithfulness, promise and love of the One True Living God.

My season is changing, come January 1, 2016, I will either be healed or healing. And in that, this prisoner of hope rejoices at the utter kindness of her loving Father.

Meditations from Psalm 65:4

Blessed is the one You choose and bring near,
to dwell in Your courts!
We shall be satisfied with the goodness of Your house,
the holiness of Your temple!

To be chosen, to be near, to dwell with You is to be truly blessed and fully satisfied.  

It isn’t a given, brothers and sisters, that we “dwell” in His courts. He chooses us and brings us near for the purpose of dwelling in His courts, but it isn’t a given. It is an intentional action on our parts. We have been invited, but will we come? Will we take the time to not just enter into His courts, but to dwell there? 

To abide in His presence; to rest our heads upon His lap, to wash His feet with our tears, to know the satisfaction of His goodness and holiness? To abide in His courts; to be held in the strength of His arms, to be carried by the freedom of His wings, to be washed by the blood that flowed from His side. 

Will we delight enough in the fact that He has chosen us and brought us near to hang out with Him in His courts, to know the atmosphere of His throne room and the glorious weight of His presence? 

Because it is there that we are satisfied; it is there that the cares of the world are swallowed up in the glories of His praiseworthy character and perfect work; it is there where earthly desires are trumped by Who He is and we can find that all we TRULY desire is Him. I have found that in this place, all the things I intended to pray about escape my mind and all I can do is delight in the One who is before me. 

Blessed and satisfied.

Meditations from Psalm 65:3

When iniquities prevail against me,
You atone for our transgressions.

When my iniquities are winning...
when my spirit cannot withstand my flesh...
when the guilt of my sin is too great...
when my failures and faults have beaten me down so that I cannot stand...
You step into my atmosphere and atone for my transgressions, changing the outcome of the battle. 

Your atonement is ALWAYS victorious; 
Your holiness and who I am in You is ALWAYS greater than my wickedness and who I am without You; 
Your holiness is ALWAYS enough to cover my transgressions; 
Your blood ALWAYS pure enough to wash me white as snow. 

The only thing that will truly prevail when You are for me and I am in You...is You. 
And if that doesn’t make us overwhelmed with gratitude and praise, then I would venture that it is because we don’t understand ourselves or our need for you.

Meditations from Psalm 65:1–2

Praise is due to You, O God, in Zion,
and to You shall vows be performed.

(Side note: The NKJV words this “praise awaits You...”)
The month of November for me was a month spent in praise. I looked back over the Lord’s work in my life and praised Him for His faithfulness...and then I added to my former praises the praise I had not yet offered to Him for the effects of His work that, before that point, I had not yet seen. There was praise waiting for Him that had not yet been pondered or offered, and in November, I brought to Him some of the praise that was “due” to Him. 

There is endless measure to His endless mercy if only we open our eyes to see it; which means, there is endless measure to His deserved praise that if we take the time, we get to bring to light and to life and to Him. How glorious a God to walk and work in such a way that there is ALWAYS praise to be found for Him.

O You who hears prayer,
to You shall all flesh come.

Oh man, can I just tell you that for me this title is utterly beautiful: "O You who hears prayer." I think that being heard in and of itself can brings so much comfort. There are times Nathan will ask me, “What did you pray about today?” and I will tell him, “Nothing. I just sat with the Lord and cried.”

Sometimes prayer doesn’t require words because God listens to the cries of the heart. And sometimes prayer doesn’t require words because it just requires presence. And it doesn’t matter who you are or what you believe or don’t believe or what you have or haven’t done, your soul longs for the living God, and when you come to Him, He promises to draw near.

Meditations from Psalm 65

The Psalm of 2015 for me is Psalm 65. The Lord gave it to me during my month of devoted prayer for healing, and it has been my plumb line. As I close out the year, I have been memorizing it because honestly, I just want it inside me always. I rarely sit down and intentionally commit large portions of scripture to memory, I grew up doing it, but have found that I don’t really remember stuff longterm that I “memorize” it. However, as a follower of Jesus who has spent countless hours in the Bible, my memory is filled with large portions of scripture because I have found that it sticks around in this flippant mind of mine when I have poured over it--meditating on it and praying though it--again and again and again; allowing it to reverberate through my heart like a chord plucked on a guitar until I know it...not just by word, but by meaning and feeling and sound and purpose. So when I say I am memorizing Psalm 65 this month, it is going to take me the entire month...not because I couldn’t do it in a day, but because I want it to remain longer than a day.

And as I slowly commit this Psalm word-for-word to memory, I keep encountering more and more truths that have really sweetened my world. (You’d think that after a year of reading this Psalm I would have wrung it out, but nope. Apparently I have barely brushed the surface.) So I wanted to share some of my meditations this month with you. 

So hang tight, they are coming your way. :)

My request for a stone.

My life has been very black and white lately. My days are filled with decision: Do I trust the Lord or am I out? I don’t usually walk in such a vividly decisive place; there’s usually some gray area where you can sit on it for a moment and work out your decision to trust. That is not where I am right now. Right now my decisions are necessary and immediate, and the choices dire to my daily experience of life.

I am in a battle; it has been long, and I am tired, and I know that it is almost over, and I just want to finish strong.

I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when I approached the Lord on December 1, 2014 to ask Him to heal my body. It took enormous amounts of faith for me to believe that He would desire to heal me; but I came, and I devoted 30 days to seek the Lord for healing.

 And it wasn’t until He said, “Yes,” on December 15 and gave me a promise that i realized this:

With all the faith I could muster up, I had only enough to ask for a stone. But God, my thorough and steadfastly loving God accepted my tiny mustard seed of faith and offered me a diamond instead.

My stone was a healed body.
His diamond was a healed body, a healed spirit and a healed mind; all the damage done to me by my health problems--the deep emotional wounds, the shallow physical wounds and everything in between.
I asked for a patch and He desired wholeness.

If I would let Him give me what His extravagant love for me desired for me, He would give it. “Believe.” He said.

And it has required immense pain; the wounds were deep and to venture to the bottom of them to ensure true healing has required immense weakness requiring immense trust in my Healer. Hebrews 12 speaks of a deep shaking so that only what cannot be shaken remains.

This year has been a strange mix of glorious revelation of the love of the Father, strenuous cruelty of the enemy, and grueling pain of confronting self.

This year has been filled with prayer, pain and praise. The kindness and love of Jesus has wrapped around me, holding me together as the Spirit has worked within and the Father has worked without.

This year has been filled with the steady hands of the skilled great Physician, carefully revealing the mess, the lies, the wounds, the weaknesses and declaring His Truth over them until they are uprooted and covered with the healing balm of Jesus.

And this month, November 2015, I have devoted to praising the Lord. After 15 years and 15 days in bondage and 319 days in the wilderness, I am taking my final lap around my Jericho. I WILL enter into the promise I have been given, because my God is faithful to His word. This month is a month of revelation, where I get to look back over the last year and see the work of the Lord on my behalf, thus solidifying the work He has been doing. 30 days of praising Him for this steadfast love and His faithfulness...not just because I get a diamond, but because He is worthy of praise.

ALL the paths

“All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness for those who keep His covenant and His testimonies.” Psalm 25:10

As I read through Psalm 25 this week, I was so struck by this verse because of the use of the word “all.” I love this verse.

ALL the paths of the Lord.

At the moment, my path is rocky; jagged, feet-splitting stones cause me hobble along, and sometimes I wonder if I have what it takes to make it to the place where the ground smooths out or if the wounds on my feet even have the potential to heal. So when I read the word, “All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness...” I wonder and I consider and I marvel.

I consider the ways His steadfast love and faithfulness meet me as I walk here; how mysterious it is that the more rugged the path, the more wondrous the love seen; how incredible it is that no matter how low I seem to stoop, the Lord bends even lower so as to lift me up; how merciful it is that the inability to be separated from His love becomes proven as He gently does not let go of me in my misery.

ALL the paths of the Lord.

I marvel that even now, in this moment, my path is solid; it is as solid in the waters of affliction as it is in green pastures of peace. It is solid not because my environment is stable or my circumstances blessed, but because the Lord Himself is steadfast and faithful, and I am His.

my heart's song tonight

Psalm 103:13–14
As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.
 
You must carry
©10-28-15 hannah mclean
 
carry me
i cry to You
carry me
i cry

for i have not the strength
for the rest of the journey
my heart is too worn
and my eyes are too weary
if there’s something to gain
You’re my hope or i’m slain
You must carry

carry me
i cry to You
carry me
i cry

yes, honor and glory, Lord,
i wish to bring You
yes, praise and thanksgiving
but i strain to sing
though i can’t lift my hands
i will fall to my knees
crying “please”

carry me
i cry to You
carry me
i cry

Lord, You know my frame
as it’s falling to dust
You are my Father
the One i can trust
i find rest in compassion
that shines from Your face
eternally faithful to
Your child of grace

carry me
i sigh to You
carry me
i sigh

He has said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you."

Yesterday I cried...a LOT.
That’s what fatigue does to me; it makes me cry, all the time and at everything.

Yesterday was hard, I am sure many factors play into it with varying complexities. But even though I was completely at the end of myself, in the evening I went downstairs to my prayer room to talk with the Lord. I talked to him like the worn out child I am, and though my questions, confusions and wonderings may have been simple, the reasons I was troubled were fueled by deeply embedded beliefs in who He is. Why did my circumstances not align with His character or promises? I found myself trying to discern between the enemy’s work and God’s hand, attempting to sort through my own heart to find if I was out of alignment...I wouldn’t recommend doing this when you’re fatigued, by the way.

I resonated with this line from Psalm 94, which rolled through my head again and again as I prayed, “If the Lord had not been my help, my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence.” I desperately needed the Lord, but where was He in my moments of need?

I remembered James 4:8, and wrote the words down on the page in front of me, “Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.” I desperately needed to be near Him, but where was He as I tried to pull Him close?

And for the first time that I can ever remember since I began walking with Jesus, I left my posture of prayer without restored hope. I stood up, completely devastated by the Lord’s silence and absence, and walked out of the room thinking, “The enemy is not suppose to win, that’s not the way it is suppose to be.”

I found my husband in the other room.

“I’m not okay,” I told him, “I feel utterly hopeless.”

The first statement most likely didn’t surprise him because my face was all puffy and red from crying and tears were still running down my face. I don’t know what he thought about the second.

“You’re tired,” He said, “Let’s put you in bed.”

I shook my head, completely overwhelmed by utter fatigue and said emphatically, “I don’t want to go to sleep without hope.”

Eventually he did convince me to go brush my teeth and get ready for bed, he kept telling me I was tired (which I was), and I told him, “I don’t want you to tell me I’m tired, I want you to tell me the Truth.” I curled up next to him, with my squeaky-clean teeth and teary eyes and he turned out the light...and then he told me the Truth; he recited scripture after scripture as it came to his mind, speaking them over me until he fell asleep.

For two hours I lay there unable to sleep, long after the tears stopped. I heard my phone ding several times (I checked it in the morning, they were texts of people who were making sure I was ok after I had stated on Facebook that I needed prayer). As I stared up at the dark ceiling, I thought about the body of Christ; His hands and feet and voice through others who are in Him. I have been praying through the daily prayer requests from Voice of the Martyrs for my brothers and sisters in Christ in hostile nations; nations with minute numbers of believers, persecuted by the majorities of Muslims or Buddhists or Hindus for following Jesus. And I wondered what would have happened to me that night had I not been able to reach out my hand to my Christ-following husband in the other room and put out a public request for prayer to my believing friends to lift me up from the miry bog of doubt I was sinking in. I considered how very alone they must feel, hidden or locked-up in the dark places, having to rely on faith alone to carry them through their confusion, doubt and despair.

And I was so grateful that I had more than my faith (which clearly needs strengthening); I had the Body of Christ--part of it literally in the bed beside me--to ensure I didn’t have to go to sleep without hope.

Thank you, brothers and sisters, for lifting me up. When I think of the verse from James on drawing near, I think that promise played out in a very real way last night; I reached out to Jesus and He came near through you. And I think that was gracious, in a moment when my doubt was so physical, to respond with a presence to match.

avalanche

avalanche
©10-26-15 hannah mclean

all i can do
is cry
as piece after piece
of me falls

as the days pass by
i wonder
what will be left
when this avalanche
ends

will i be able to mend?

or will i simply be lost
spread across the years
crushed beyond repair
in the descent?

Dignifying the Lord's house.

My health has stripped my physical body of its dignity.

It has diminished my body to a state 

so painful for me to dwell upon

that years ago, 
I simply separated myself from it.

As though it was of no worth,

had no benefit to offer me.

Naught but a cross to bear 

until I am made whole in eternity;

death seen as a welcome release

that will one day solidify the split.

My health has brought me pain;

deep wounds with great emotional collateral.

Unable to better my physical person

I chose instead to set it aside--

an amputee of sorts--

investing in the things this side of heaven

that will join me there.

Desiring instead to 

“let your adornment be the hidden person of the heart

with imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, 

which is God’s sight is very precious.”

In God’s sight. 

Over the years I have learned to live before the Lord alone,

perhaps first pressed by broken reasons,

but acceptable to Jesus none the less.

But there are weights that entangle,

causing our steps to trudge

and keeping us from running the race before us.

Good things that didn't begin as weights,

but that arrived there

when they began to hinder freedom. 

In God’s sight.

I live before Him now for other reasons;

reasons that allow me to look into the pain

and reclaim the dignity my health has stripped me of.

I have become vividly convicted of the fact

that God made me

a soul, a spirit AND a body.

My body is a third of who I am;

and while it is but dust,

it bears the image and likeness of my Creator

and holds within its walls

the Spirit of the living God.

It is not just a body,

it is a temple.

And not just a temple, 

but a temple of the living God.

Until I reach heaven,

where I get to physically worship

in His physical house,

He has chosen to enter into me

and make me

the physical dwelling place of the most High.

1 Corinthians 6:19 “Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God?”

Armed with such a declaration,

I look upon this broken piece of flesh,

one I have averted my eyes from again and again.

Undignified by earthly standards.

I look upon this temple 

laid in ruin for many years.

And carefully

I set aside the words

I have spoken to it again and again.

I set aside the expectation

of what it is suppose to be to be acceptable.

And instead

I let it stand just as it is,
accepted by the One who made it His own;

a pile of bricks strewn upon a strong foundation

ready to be built back up.

And I place around my neck a cross

as upon a steeple

declaring to the world that 

this is a house of the Lord.

Psalm 84:1 “How lovely is Your dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts!”

I marvel as these words You gave me years ago

flow through my mind, 

“You restore to me

dignity.”

PICTURE: The wall of stones

This is the picture the Lord gave me during a time of prayer surrounding the verse from Matthew 16:18, “I will build My Church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”

In the picture, there was a wall of a building made of many stone bricks. The stones were in rows, one atop of another. As I looked closer, I saw that many of the stones were out of place; some were slightly askew, while others were mostly dislodged.

----
1 Peter 2:4–6
“As you come to Him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For it stands in Scripture: “Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious, and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.”
----

The wall was part of the “physical” Church we who believe are being built into. As stones, we are to align with our “cornerstone” (Christ). As I prayed, about this picture, the Lord pressed upon me how the stones would realign (and/or remain aligned) with their foundational first stone: Scripture.

As a whole in this country, those who profess Christ have neglected the Bible. Why is that? The Word is where God is revealed; His heart, His desires, His Truth. We are to align our lives with Him; if we are separated from scripture (His revealed Word), how can we do that accurately? We can’t; without the knowledge of Him revealed through Scripture, we won’t really know WHO He is, what He is like, what He desires, how He loves, etc....we can only guess or assume, and when we do that, we end up worshiping a god we have created instead of the one true, living Yahweh. As I was reminded in a sermon recently, “If your spiritual experiences aren’t pushing you into the Word, there is a disconnect.” This should be a red flag for us; if we “want Jesus” but aren’t growing in our desire for the Word of God, we need to question if the former is actually true of us.

Read the Word of God, know the Word of God, align with the Word of God. Because without scripture to guide us, we as stones will become “slightly askew;” and if already slightly askew, we will become “mostly dislodged;” and if already mostly dislodged, we will become completely separated from Jesus.

waiting for healing: day 286

day 286
©9-12-15 hannah mclean 

questions repeating
beating 
and beating
upon this strained mind
desiring to find
the answers to alleviate
and obliterate
the pain of not knowing.

what is happening to me?

i wonder as i blunder
from one day to the next
hiding
from the internal chiding
degrading me
as degradation plagues externally
determined to win
at convincing me
my brokenness is as much within
as without.

and daily i must
entrust myself
to the Truth
and to the Father
to which He leads.

o Jesus,
Healer of the broken
You have spoken
words over me
with authority
and i await
from this helpless state
unable to turn away
i lay
before You
forevermore.

Ugly moments and the beauty of God

I had a hard day this past week. In the middle of it, I stood in the shower and yelled at God.

I yelled at Him; I doubted at Him, I threw teenage-quality accusations at Him; I wept like a baby and the water washed my tears down the drain and muffled out the sounds of my sobs.

I’m not proud of it, my feelings were not in the right place (because God owes me nothing and has never wronged me, He has never done wrong in any capacity).

But I am not ashamed of it either; most importantly because I am in Jesus and my sins are covered, but also because my HEART was in the right place--raw and honest and in the presence of the One it longed for.

Because here is the thing, if we want to be with Jesus, and all we have to bring with us at the moment is anger or pain or frustration, He wants us to come anyway. He doesn’t say, “No, go get yourself together and then you can draw near.” Instead, He says, “Come to Me, all you who are weary...” And if all we have to offer Him is the ugliness of a broken soul, then He will draw near and receive it as an offering of worship. Not because He deserves it--no, He deserves alabaster boxes of sweet perfume, houses of extravagant beauty built to Him, gold, frankincense and myrrh, animals without blemish and songs of thanksgiving (to name a biblical few)--but because He is a God of grace who, in spite of His infinite worth, remembers we are "but dust" and rejoices over the widow’s pennies as they fall into the offering plate, receives food at the table of the outcasts of society and immortalizes the worship of Job.

As I stepped out of the shower that day, my heart landed upon Job and I opened up his book and began to read. And Job 1:20 reverberated through my body like a glorious, hopeful sigh.

“Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshiped.”

Job--a man the Lord Himself called “a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil”--had just suffered a string of immense losses and felt within himself blow after blow upon his heart; he lost all that he had and almost everyone that he loved. His expression of sorrow was intense and aggressive; he tore his clothes, he shaved his head. He did not hide his feelings, he expressed them fully and fiercely.

And then it says Job “fell on the ground;” the weight of what he felt took all strength from him and he couldn’t stand beneath it. Perhaps he didn’t even try to because sometimes the burdens are just far too great to place upon our backs, the heaviness of the sorrow far too immense; so under the trials of life, he simply fell on the ground.

Job’s ground was solid; he fell onto the expanse of the One in Whom he trusted. And from this place, weak and weary and wounded, unable to stand, torn open...Job worshipped God. He offered his sorrow and he acknowledge his Lord. And to God, this was worship.

There was no exuberant joy required, no withholding of receiving until the heart was indeed thankful and accepting of the losses, no setting at arms length till the confusion was resolved...No. The Lord received his weakness and his sorrow and his acknowledgement as an offering of worship. We know this because He repeated His accolades of His servant Job in 2:3, calling him again “a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil.”

And that is reason 14 gazillion why God is so incredibly glorious. Because I can yell at Him in the shower when anger, confusion and despair are all I have to bring Him at a moment when I just want to be near. I can acknowledge His holiness, love and kindness in the next breath as I speak His truth over my weary soul. And I can leave our interaction feeling as though He took my words and my tears and my weakness as worship.

These are the moments when I understand why the KJV bible often translates “steadfast love” as “mercy.”

"O my Lord, I am not eloquent" and other faulty reasons for silence.

Has the enemy ever told you something along these lines: “You can’t tell people what God is doing in your life because you aren’t very good at articulating your thoughts. Keep it to yourself. Let the eloquent speakers share; what they have to say is of more value because it sounds prettier coming out of their mouth. That person has letters behind their name, you should just listen. If you want to speak, get some credentials. Until then, you should ignore any inclination you have to speak about your walk with Jesus...I mean, who do you think you are? Are you so proud? Do you really think you’re so 'special' that you have something to ADD to the life of the Church?! God wants you to be humble, that means you be quiet and listen. A teachable person listens and doesn’t speak, you want to be teachable and humble, right? Besides, that thing you were considering sharing, in the whole scheme of things, it’s nothing; why would anyone want to spend time hearing about your little struggles or your little victories or you little life? Head down, mouth shut...that’s want ‘living a quiet and peaceable life’ means.”

If he has, I just want to remind you of one little thing: The enemy is a big, fat liar. Yes, a liar. And not just a slimy, twisting liar, but a being in passionate pursuit of destroying the people of God, stealing the glory of God and hindering the power of God from playing out in the broken world.

I think it is important to get a conversation going, this requires words. For me, because God made me introspective, I am completely uncomfortable when I don't understand how I am doing or where I am at. I confront my emotions and deal with the circumstances of my life because I am unable to stuff things (for better or for worse). Because of my reflective nature, I embrace the invitation to stand before the Father in Christ with boldness and without shame--just as I am--with great joy. I process through my emotions and pains and confusions and questions in the presence of the Lord and the Truth of His word. I know who I am before the Creator God who defines me. That means, if I can boldly stand without shame before God, I can express the things I am struggling with and learning about with boldness and without shame before people. And I have found that the more I see and understand about what God is doing in me and around me, the less I can hold it in. But the more I share it, the more I hear the reasons why many around me AREN’T sharing. They are silently living their lives with Jesus because they "aren’t very eloquent of speech," the things they’re learning "are just too insignificant," they "aren’t qualified" to have a voice in people’s lives, etc. etc. (I can understand believing all of these things, I’ve been silent because of them far too many times myself.) So I find that while many people will listen to my life and my revelations and my struggles and my victories, they hold back from sharing with me their own.

But what is unfortunate about this one-sided conversation (other than the fact that I desperately want to hear from them), is that I firmly believe that the act of articulating your thoughts and the work God is doing in you is a wonderful way of observing them fully and allowing them to solidify in your heart and mind. I honestly think it’s a vital step in completing the process of the work God does in each of us: Put it in words--eloquent or ineloquent is not the point--and share it.

I would encourage each of you to line up your excuses (such as the ones listed above) and shoot them down with Truth. Here is an example:

LIE: I’m not good at articulating myself.
TRUTH: In the book of Exodus, God told Moses He was going to use him to free His people from slavery, the largest exodus of all time. Upon hearing this, barefoot in the presence of a holy God, Moses presented Him with lots of reasons why he wasn’t the right man for the job; after all, he wasn’t just ineloquent, he was slow of speech and tongue. Was God’s hand shortened because of Moses’ deficits? Absolutely not. God took what Moses DID have (ie a simple staff and an ineloquent, slow tongue) and freed 600,000 male slaves (if you add the women and children, the number could have been around ~2,400,000).

Because here is the truth: The work of God in our lives belongs to Him. His work in us points to Him, magnifies Him, glorifies Him, and reflects Him. It is not self-exalting to share it because ultimately, it isn’t about us; it’s about Jesus. And the power of our testimony doesn’t lie in the eloquence of our words, it lies in Jesus. So we can offer up the words we do have--jumbled or stumbled or stuttered doesn’t matter--they are filled with potential because they are backed by pure, edifying power of our magnificent God.

All this was really just a very long way of exhorting you to fight your excuses! Put the enemy in his place, why should he get to dictate what comes out of our mouths and what stays in? Let's let the Lord direct our tongues. Can you imagine how much potential there is for growth and for an offering of praise and glory to the Lord if we would boldly testify to one another and invite each other into the inter workings of our daily walk with Him?! Jesus said, “For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.” If the work of God in your heart DOESN’T overflow out of your mouth, then I would encourage you to ponder it until it does.

And then tell me about it. :)

Passionate ranting and sobering questions

We ran into a wonderful, godly man the other day. We had a moment to catch up, and he and my husband shared with each other some of the devastated lives they encountered in their work and ministry. As we unwound these broken situations, we looked behind the actions and considered where the cracks in their lives started; the young addict whose mother had shown him how to shoot up heroin, the 27-year-old man who was shown pornography as a 6-year-old boy on the playground at school, the suicidal young woman whose father walked out many years before...

As we spoke, questions arose. Questions like:
“Is there even hope to restore a life so broken?”
“Can someone emotionally and mentally come back from a place like that when they’ve never been equipped with the tools to cope?”
“Even if they’re freed from their addiction, could they live a normal life?”

To which I, perhaps annoyingly (at first), answered, “But we get to bring Jesus!”

We get to bring Jesus! The hope for a life broken beyond human repair; the hope for someone ill-equipped during their developmental years to live a purposeful life; the hope for redeeming the lost innocence of a child...that hope it Jesus. After my 3rd or 4th, “But Jesus,” we started to talk about Jesus. We talked about the power of Jesus to free; and not just to free, but to restore; and not just to restore, but to build up to bring freedom and restoration to others. Because Jesus’ healing power is thorough and amazingly beautiful to behold. We talked about how we don’t have to know the answer to details of the brokenness, we just need to love with the persevering, steadfast, redeeming love of Jesus poured out; how that love redeems the lives of the ones it lands on. We talked about how watching this process is “the greater thing” that Jesus told us we will see (He raised the dead, there’s no way you can get a bigger physical miracle than that), He was talking about us bringing His healing, redemptive, life-transforming love on the cross to a broken world and watching its power land upon needy souls bringing pure beauty from the ashes of the aftermath of sin.

Because THAT is what we bring when we answer the brokenness of the world with a relationship with Jesus. Scripture says we are “Ambassadors of Hope.” That fact should make our hearts leap; it should cause our feet to run into the darkness because the Light we carry has the power not just to dispel it...but to heal all that has been broken there.

Jesus is beautiful and He is enough!

And at the end of our conversation, the man was brimming with encouragement and he asked me,
“Have you told anyone this?”

And I can’t shake this question...”Have you told anyone this?” 

I can’t shake it because he wasn’t asking me if I had told the lost, the bound, the weary in the broken world, he was asking me if I had told the Church.

I can’t shake this question. I can’t shake it, not because I don’t tell anyone who will listen to my passionate rants, but because my answer is simple. It is simple, yet so sobering I tear up every time it comes to mind:
“I thought they knew.”

Love expanded: Part 2

to rest
©7-22-15 hannah mclean
 
He spreads out His love beneath me
and i feel upon my weathered skin
the softness of feathers
from the rocky place i lie
without strength
and yet
without condemnation
He asks but one thing of me
that i rest upon Him

He spreads out His love above me
like a canopy
creating a barrier between me
and the falling sky
His feathered wings
gather me in
He asks but one thing of me
that i rest in His shadow

He pours His love into me
like living water
rolling through a parched land
soaking Him in
He does not curse my desert
instead
He revives
He asks but one thing of me
that i rest in His life

Love expanded: Part 1

Before I launch into my thoughts, I want you to know that I am completely aware that in the scheme of human suffering and injustice, my struggles are not even a blip. That being said, they are still real struggles that, on an individual level, create a personal pain that I carry.
 
I was sharing some of my journey through my health problems with some of my sisters-in-the-Lord last night, and as I talked, God opened up a little window into some of His purposes for my pain. 

Many years ago, when I exited the valley that makes the one I am currently in too familiar, I entered it without Jesus and exited it following Him. I looked at the sorrows of my failing health with humility and gratitude because if He hadn’t physically swept my feet from beneath me, I could not see a way I would have bowed my knee to Him. I entered my valley as a stubborn, independent, self-centered girl who spoke too quickly (often in anger), cared only about myself and kept the disappointing world at arm’s length because I “could take care of myself.” I exited the valley a teachable, dependent on God, prayerful woman who was willing to look into the eyes of a hurting world, requiring nothing from it. I am grateful for the revealed weaknesses, the months of literal silence, the pains I persevered through because through them, God spoke to me, revealed Himself to me and drew me into His arms.

But as I consider my health and the last 15 years, I have observed and experienced them through a distorted lens given to me from the pulpit throughout my childhood. The view of God’s love that I left my childhood church with was this: “The Lord disciplines the ones He loves.” While this is true, this is so far from an encompassing view of the love of God that were a person to observe all the pains of life through this narrow scope, they would invariably find themselves with an incredibly skewed understanding of God.

Because here’s the truth...yes, when I got sick, I was not walking with the Lord; I didn’t lean on Him, I didn’t follow Him, I didn’t love Him, I didn’t want much to do with Him. To be fair, I didn’t know HOW to do those things or what it would even look like or why it would be desirable. God used my health to draw me to Himself and I am eternally grateful...literally. But who I was then is not who I am now. I have walked with Jesus for 12 years; I follow Him, love Him, delight in Him, lean on Him, trust Him; He has taken out the heart of stone and given me a heart of flesh; He has an open invitation to shape and sanctify and use me however He wishes; to my knowledge, I withhold nothing from Him and deal with my sin before Him without fear. My heart is freely moldable in His loving hands...I do not require discipline because I am not wayward; I am sitting in His palm, I am clinging to His feet.

And God is uprooting my view of His love; the narrow-minded, painful view of what my suffering means to Him. Because if I believe He is disciplining me when my heart is devoted and submitted to Him, what kind of father is He? To take a life that says, “I want things Your way,” and to treat it as one that is rebellious, that would not be loving or kind or good (all of which God is), it would be cruel and abusive (which God is not). His love fits His nature and His character; infinite, merciful, unchanging, just, patient, good.

Yes, God is uprooting my view of His love, and with it, the distorted, confusing view of what my suffering means to Him. And this time, as I face my valley with its familiar, dreaded pains and symptoms, He is pushing back against the lies the enemy planted (“If I only do this better, God will bless me...if I can just grow in this area, God will give me what I desire...etc."). To every claim of effort and earning, He speaks the truth that His love for me is not contingent on how good or bad I am; that the purpose of my suffering is not discipline because our relationship has already been restored through Jesus; that ease of life does not accurately reflect abundance of love; that real Love seeks the eternal good that sometimes requires the temporal waiting...

So I am learning a lot about the love of the Lord; about His affections, His fervency, His glorious zeal for my good. And though I don’t have words to articulate what it is, I am beginning to recognize it, beginning to feel it, beginning to believe it and beginning to delight in the effects of it landing upon me...just as I am.

"If I make my bed in the depths, You are there."

Life has been bumpy lately...like I’m sliding down a hill and hitting jagged rocks on the way down. I feel bruised and my eyes can’t see the top of the next mountain, only the darkness of the pit in which I reside. I’ve been here before, I recognized the rocks on the way down. It’s dark and I can’t see my feet; I dread the next step because I don’t know how much farther I have to go before the Lord lifts me up.

So some days are harder than others, and I have been grateful for the hands of Jesus that reach out to grab hold of my grasping hand; assuring me that I am not alone and reminding me that “though I fall, I will not be cast headlong, for the Lord upholds my hand.” (Psalm 37:24)

Let’s be honest, my health sucks. I have been sick for 15 years. It’s true, I’ve had a stretch of probably 5 years in there where my body balanced out and I felt pretty good, but it doesn’t take more than the slightest breeze to send it back into chaos. It doesn’t help to tell me I look fine, I am not fine. And no, I can’t explain what is wrong because even the professionals can’t. Aside from my health, I’m not an unhealthy person; I exercise, eat healthy food, take my vitamins, have solid relationships and love Jesus...but my body just laughs at the science of living a healthy lifestyle.

To be honest, I’m in a hard place; I am worn out as I wait on a miracle from the Lord. I believe He is my Jehovah Rapha (the Lord who Heals), and I expect Him to be who He says He is. Most days I find peace in hope, because I’m hoping in a God who is always faithful to His word; some days I sincerely rejoice as though I have already received what He promised. But some days, I simply doubt; gut-wrenching, devastating hopelessness threatens to sweep me off of everything I stand on with the force of a tornado of fear, pain and the sense of abandonment. And those days, those days are the hard days where I have to make choices: Am I going to choose faith? Am I going to hold up the truths I know of God beside the facts of my health and choose to believe what I can’t see? Am I going to shout the name and mercy of Jesus in the face of the enemy’s accusations that His love and His blessing are not for me? Am I going to agree with the Truth or with the lies when it is the lies that make sense when one considers my physical well-being? Those days, those are the days I have to make the hard decisions: faith or fear? Truth or lies? Love or hate? Jesus or self?

I am grateful as I write this. I am grateful because I am proven...I want Jesus’ face more than His hand.

I am grateful as I write this. I am grateful because no matter the ugliness of my doubt and the fruit it bears, God presents me with His word where He declares His affection for me whereever I stand...or sit...or wallow:

Psalm 139:8–10
If i go up to the heavens, You are there;
    if i make my bed in the depths, You are there.
If i rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if i settle on the far side of the sea,
even there Your hand will guide me,
    Your right hand will hold me fast.

Oh the beautiful Jesus:
He is with me always.
He is with me when I worship Him; when from my earthly post my soul rises up to the heavens and my voice joins the hosts around His throne. He is there.
He is with me when I clamor in the depths of the pit; when I wallow in despair, unable to lift up my voice or my feet, doubting I can hope another day. He is there.
He is with me whether I am early or whether I am late.
He is with me whether I wander far or stand near.
He is there, His hand guides me because He is faithful.
His right hand holds me fast, because He is my anchor.
And my Anchor holds.

My Anchor holds when life is bumpy;
when everything around me is dark and the only light I can find
lies in the hope that the One who is sure is with me,
and when He deems the moment right,
He will lift me out of this desolate pit.

And between this moment and that one, perhaps you will put me into your prayers?

Just a glimpse.

"Our burning passion for Christ should make nonbelievers question their unbelief.” ~ Kiera Woods

I came across this quote the other day and I love it. I remember meeting with a missions coordinator at an organization probably 8 years ago and sharing my testimony with him. I told him, “I wish I could give people a glimpse of God, I feel like if I could show them what I see, they would desire to know Him as much as I do because He is just so completely glorious and lovely.” He sort of chuckled at me and made a comment about how newer believers live in that hope, but the world is far harder to captivate. But still, all these years later, my expectation still stands; I truly believe that even one glimpse of Jesus, as He truly is, is enough to draw the heart and cause it to cling forever to the only One worthy of worship.

I often lament that I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to show Him to people; so I just keep loving Him and clinging to Him and worshiping Him and conforming my life to Him and doing what He asks of me...and I am hoping (and I think that is why this quote resonates so deeply with me), that somehow living out my burning passion for Christ will “make nonbelievers question their unbelief” and turn their eyes to look at the One who holds my gaze.

Because I really think that the only thing that will make heaven more glorious, is if it is filled with familiar faces proclaiming the glory of God and enjoying Him forever.

Hooray.

it is good to grow again.

i believe You
©6-17-15 hannah mclean

sometimes i wonder
what You are doing in me
the curiosity of the pains
stirred up
the precision of the moments
of waiting
the joys found in Your presence
in prayer
how mysterious Your ways
as i ponder Your character
amidst the chaos
reveling in the peace
attained by hope
in the face of unchanged circumstances

i find that i believe You

not that You suddenly became trustworthy
but i am learning to trust

it’s strange really
this trust that transcends the details of life
it rests in something greater
and shields my heart against
the painful changes of a broken world;
the giving and the taking
the failing and the shaking

sometimes i wonder
what You are doing in me
because i don’t hear the words
of the Spirit’s groanings
i only feel their strength
i don’t hear the words
of the Savior’s intercession
i only know He accompanies me
to the Mercy Seat

but i receive
and i am receiving

and

i find that i believe You
maybe for the first time

aspects of Your love
Your favor
Your kindness
Your fervor
the sweetness of Your song
sung over me
notes stirring
my heart at depths
only You know
till praise arises from my mouth
in harmony with my Creator

i find i believe You
and You are glorious
Your ways are good
though curious

i wait for You
hoping and wondering
amid pain and prayer and peace
satisfied by Your presence

A long awaited opportunity to say, "Thank you."

Dear Jhosselin,

It has been almost three years since I got that life-changing phone call in the early hours of the morning; my mother’s voice on the other end of the line telling me my brother had been killed. The cry and the silence in the moments that followed contained the knowledge that the pain of sorrow had just permeated my life and was about to sweep over my family with transforming waves of excruciating measure.

As the story unfolded over the next year and a half, we heard there was an airman who had arrived at the scene and stayed with Noah. Today, I found out that that airman was you.

I wish there were words to express to you how I am feeling right now.

Do you know what you did for my family?

You watched over our beloved Noah when we couldn’t...We have sat beside 2 others in our ranks as they breathed their last, but Noah died suddenly on the side of the road in a state far away. We weren’t there to hold his hand or stroke his head or let him go or send him off in a shower of our tears; we didn’t get to remind him that we loved him or assure him that we’d see him again. Miles separated us.

But you were there, Jhosselin. You stopped and you gave us an incredible gift when you stayed beside him. You gave us your time and your presence and the sweetness of knowing that he was not alone; because you were brave and you were there.

And to say “thank you” seems so minute a statement in relation to the proportion of kindness you showed my family.

I thank you for your gift to us: You counted the trauma you would have to endure by encountering someone in his broken state as worth the cost. You chose to stop and you chose to stay amid the bloody mess of a life lost because you counted this stranger in a pool of blood as someone’s loved one.

And he was loved, SO loved.
And he is missed, SO missed.

And though my words fail, my gratitude toward you is immense, and I pray the Lord would pour blessing over you that is far greater than I could ever think to ask or imagine.

With so much love,
Hannah

Bold faith.

Bold faith.

How many of us hope that we can be bold in our faith as we face life’s questions and circumstances and pains? We have grand visions of standing up tall and blazing through closed doors and red tape as if they never existed; miraculous deliverance or provision in our hands; looking into the face of the enemy with a willingness to take on any punishment for our faith. These things are definitely bold acts by a bold God.

But I have observed (and because of my tendency to find comfort in control, God often called calls me to this) bold faith that is much quieter...much more invisible to the naked eye, with no applause or spotlight, sometimes even unnoticed by anyone who wasn't watching for God's hand.

When I think of bold faith, I think of two categories of stories in scripture:

I think of stories like David--a shepherd, not yet a king--who walks through the armies of Israel and stands face to face with the giant Goliath; who RUNS toward the weapon-wielding enemy of God holding a sling and 5 stones but COMPLETELY confident in the name of the Lord of Hosts. Of Elijah upon the mountain with 450 prophets of Baal; erecting an altar, soaking it with water, and calling down fire from heaven to prove to Israel that Yahweh is the one true living God. Or of the 12 disciples walking through the crowds of 5,000+ with baskets and the hope to feed them from the 5 loaves and 2 fishes which multiplied in their hands. Whoa, BOLD faith. Visible, celebrated, honorable before the eyes of many.

And then I think of stories like Moses facing the armies of Egypt and hearing from God, “I will fight for you, you need only be silent.” (Exodus 14:14) Of Jehoshaphat who faced a multitude of enemies in prayer and was told, “You will not need to fight in this battle, stand firm, hold your position and see the salvation of the Lord on your behalf.”(2 Chronicles 20:17) And of the children of Israel on their way out of the desert who were told, “Hear, Israel, today you are drawing near for battle against your enemies: Let not your heart faint. Do not fear or panic or be in dread of them, for the Lord your God is He who goes with you to fight for you against your enemies, to give you the victory.” (Deuteronomy 20:3–4)

Because boldness of faith isn’t about our visibility, our strength or us in any way, really. It is simply about our provision of opportunity to allow the Lord to be Who and what He is; it is about choosing to let our faith to take over as we face life’s circumstances and pains because the One in whom we trust is faithful.

Bold faith.
Sometimes it is bold to run and shout
and sometimes it is bold to be still and silent.

"as the heavens are higher than the earth..."

greater than
©5-11-15 hannah mclean

Lord
You have shown me
again and again and again
You are bigger than
the limits of my imagination
You are greater than
the desires of my heart
You are without limits

a year crowned with Your goodness
and dripping with Your abundance
has bounds beyond
the horizons i see
and overflow beyond the
reservoirs from which i now drink

and even still
more than abundance of blessing
on me
i desire abundance of worship
on You
for Your goodness is a crown upon my life
surrounding and sustaining
eternally marked by love

because Your ways
and Your love always meet
a blazing Truth in the moments
when promise meets pain

“For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:9
“For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His steadfast love toward those who fear Him” Psalm 103:11

Theo David McLean

I found out today that I did, in fact, lose my baby.

I had been hoping, truly hoping, that I was just another one of the 20-40% who bleed during pregnancy.

When I shared the test results with my sister, she apologized for helping me hope. But honestly, I would rather spend my time hoping than worrying; I would rather waste my time hoping than waste it despairing; I would rather run the risk of greater disappointment because I hoped than run the risk of being broadsided by good news because I was wallowing in anxiety and fear. I am grateful for her hope that filled in the gaps of my own; a lovely gift to help the time pass by without the pain it could have held. Thank you, sister friend, for helping me hope.

It’s been a strange few days between the first tears I shed and the affirmation that my son didn’t make it.

First I became vividly aware that though his life was still news to me, my heart already loved him. I wept for a life I only knew existed for 6 days and for the pain of possibly being separated from this tiny child who not only rested beneath my heart, but who already filled it.

And then I sat in prayer on Wednesday, praising the Lord with an honest heart. And as we sang and worshipped and blessed Him, I felt my womb cramping as the life inside it was snuffed out. And I thought how strange it felt to rejoice in Life as death occurred inside of me.

Because I think I knew, even though I held out hope that I was wrong, I knew he was gone that day: May 6, 2015.

I named him as I sat before the Lord that night. Theo, which means “divine gift.” Something that is divine is either something that is from the Lord or something that is for the Lord. I knew that Theo was a gift from God, and as I sat in wait and wonderment at the reality I faced, I told the Lord that He wouldn’t have to take my son from me. If He wanted my child to bypass earth, I would give him to the Lord with an open heart. Because a gift is always given, never taken. “Come what may,” I told Him, “Theo is a divine gift.”

God is good, you know. When my doctor called me, I was with my family; the ones who have walked with me through all my losses. Their tears were real as they hugged me; their hugs were full of that physical love that assures me things will be ok. And I was grateful that, though the place to receive the news was not ideal, the people were just who I needed beside me when I heard that my baby didn’t make it.

So now I face the unknown; emptiness echoes with sadness where giggles of excitement rang; innocent wonderings about the growth of my family leave me sober; the baby outfit I ordered in eager anticipation will show up in the mail and there will be no one to wear it; and Mother’s Day will reveal that one of my children will never be in my arms this side of heaven.

It’s been a strange few days,
and I am sad.

Until heaven, my tiny son.

To testify to the next generation.

As I was taking my baby out of her highchair the other day, I looked into her tiny face and heard these words come out of my mouth, “I am going to share with you the testimonies of the things that God has done in my life and your faith is going to be strengthened because of it...because that is how it works.”

I stopped for a moment and considered these words that seemed to spring out of nowhere. I thought of the times throughout scripture where God tells His people He’s going to do something wonderful and instructs them to, as we see in Joel 1:3, “Tell your children of it, and let your children tell their children, and their children to another generation.” Or in Exodus 13:8 “You shall tell your son on that day, ‘It is because of what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt.’”

I’m not just talking about instruction...instruction is not enough. I’m talking about testifying to the faithfulness, to the praiseworthiness, to the might, to the worth, to the honor of God. I am talking about setting alongside the Truth of scripture the realities of scripture played out in our lives.

I am so convinced of this that I have purposed that throughout my children’s life I will tell them what God is doing in me and for me as we go along; and as they grow, I am going to pray that the Lord provides opportunities for me to tell them how He carried me through loss, how He healed me in illness, how He freed me from sin, how He changed my heart to feel compassion, and how He magnified Himself in marvelous ways throughout every moment of joy and pain and all the circumstances that spanned them. And I am going to purpose to show them things like how to pray your way to peace in times of trouble, and how to lean on Him in time of need, and how to be satisfied in Him when life is altogether unsatisfying, and how to praise Him in times of blessing, and how to stand on His promises in a shifting world.

And their faith will be strengthened because of it; because the testimonies of the Lord lead to things such as joy, hope, courage, awe, understanding, assurance, wisdom, the acceptance of salvation and holiness.

Because God is real and testimonies of Him hold power.

Because He is a wonderful God.

Life-giving

You are life-giving

©4-15-15 hannah mclean

Lord

You are life-giving

in the moments of my decay

You breathe Your breath 

upon me

and I stand another day

You lift me from the ashes

where time has burned me down

Your face is light upon me

when i deserve a frown

Lord

You are life-giving

in the moments of my fear

You breathe Your breath 

upon me

for You have joined me here

Your voice is never shaming

no power You demand

instead You ring out through the din

“peace” is Your command

Lord

You are life-giving

in the moments of my pain

and when You lift each trial

i know You by Your name

oh mercy of great measure

what have You to do with me?

my hands are always empty

yet You 

faithful eternally

Lord

You are life-giving

when i stand and when i fall

may my voice be never silent

for You hear me when i call