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
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
"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?
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?
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
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.
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.
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