He's faithful to redeem.

 Almighty Weaver
©7-4-2025 hannah mclean

Almighty Weaver
i rest in Your hands
You who made mountains
You who formed man
Almighty Weaver
the Maker of parts
only Your love can 
join body and heart

Your blood binds what’s broken
and makes new what’s old
Your love falls on ashes
and brings forth the gold
Your truth walks through prisons
and unlocks the doors
Your hands lift the least of these
making them more

Almighty Weaver
redemption’s Your way
You bring dead to life 
and You turn night to day
You see beyond moment
call forth what will be
in the land of the living
Your goodness i’ll see

laying down the nets

Matthew 4:18–20 “While walking by the Sea of Galilee, He saw two brothers, Simon (who is called Peter) and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. And He said to them, “Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.”Immediately they left their nets and followed Him.”
 

leave your nets

©hannah mclean 10-12-2024

 

will you leave your nets
and follow Me?
will you lay down old
the new to see?
will you trust your works
can leave your hands
and pick up where
Redeemer stands?
 

will you forfeit
all you’ve ever known
and follow Me
from house and home?

it matters not that
men say “no”
it matters not where
men say “go”
it matters only
if you choose
to follow Me
your nets to lose
 

a better word
i have for you
a better work
your hands to do
I look across
your narrow sea
and call you out
“will you follow Me?”

The expanse of His bending

"He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap." Psalm 113:7

 

The Lord was ministering to me with Psalm 113:7 yesterday, and this morning as I sat down with Him, I looked into the rest of the Psalm and I am undone.

Psalm 113 speaks to the Lord being HIGH ABOVE ALL nations; China, Russia, the USA, Germany, Mexico, Brazil, Israel, Egypt, Monaco, Nigeria…every nation with every earthly leader and every ounce of earthly government, prestige and military might. It says that not only are these beneath Him, but they are FAR beneath Him. And while the glory of the earth and its nations may seem impressive (Olympians, natural wonders, scientific and technological advances, etc.), His glory—the sum of His being—dwarfs not only all the earth has to offer but also the heavens. And from this declaration of the immense wonder, worth and power of God, the Psalmist rightly declares His holiness, “Who is like the Lord our God…?” No one. He is set apart in every way; holy, holy, holy the right declaration as He is beheld.

Then the second half of the Psalm moves my heart is wondrous ways. Because then, this God who dwarfs the nations with His glory, presence, position and scope of vision reaches down through the distance of His exaltation and sets His hands into the dust to touch the ones with nothing to glory in; He puts those holy hands into the ashes of burned up lives and circumstance and picks up the ones who need; and with the humble of the world in His grasp, He covers them with honor. And then, He turns His eyes to the woman without, the lonely with the pain of unfulfilled longings, and He moves her to joy.

“Who is like the Lord our God…?” Our God who does not overlook the individual lives on whom death has left its mark. Our God who did not come to save nations—for nations are but a drop in a bucket to Him—but to save the people who fill those nations—marked with His image and the recipients of His affections. Who is like the Lord our God? Worthy of praise for all of time and yet concerned with the weak and lowly who have known only broken pieces and with the woman whose beating heart is cast down.

I don’t know if where you sit today is a place of authority at a table of honor or a pile of ashes from the life you’ve burned with your own sin. I don’t know if you hold in your hands everything you ever wanted or if your soul cries out from the bathroom floor in your longing for what you lack. But I do know this, the Lord our God is both mighty and meek. He is above the heights we could ever lift our eyes to and beneath the depths we could ever fall. He is worthy and yet willing, holy and yet love itself. Rest in His hands, it is there that joy will find you.

And do not miss the expanse of His bending, for the expanse is the door to understanding His praise.

From Zar to Citizen of Heaven

The Lord woke me up with a dream this week. In this dream I was registering patients at a hospital when a friend I knew from high school walked in with a woman who was having terrible chest pain. I picked up her registration form and my friend looked relieved because she knew I could help. I brought the woman back to my desk; she was uncomfortable and a bit nervous, but overall bright in her attitude and demeanor, confident that she had come to the right place for the help she needed. As I sat her down, I opened up the registration program for the first time (I had worked registration during college, so they didn’t bother training me in, just assumed I could pick it back up). As I got things going, I looked at my paper and noticed on the name line, she had simply written the word “Zar.” During our discussion, she told me that was the name she was called, and because she wasn’t ever called by her given name, she struggled to remember what her legal name was. After some digging, I managed to draw her first and last name out of her, and chose to register her as her legal name with Zar as the middle name.

I first tried to find a medical record that had been previously opened to build from, but she was nervous to give her social security number out loud with people around, so I let her type it in. Finding no record on file, I started a new one and was met with utter random confusion. As I tried to find the places to enter the information, I had to navigate through videos, games, flashing screens—every sort of entertainment was crammed into the program. I frantically tried to find the input areas to give the information needed to create a chart for the dying woman sitting in front of me, but my efforts were slowed and frustrated by the avalanche of unnecessary and distracting visuals.

When I finally made it to the end of the chart, utterly frustrated and overwhelmed, I hit print only to discover that autocorrect had changed the spelling of the legal name. I went out to check on the patient in the lobby, where she was waiting anxiously to be seen, and I desperately tried to figure out how to get her chart to the nurse so they knew she was ready even though I knew everything would have to be restickered because of the error in the legal name (although “Zar,” which I put in the middle name input slot had printed clearly). With my laptop beside her in the lobby, I desperately tried to find the screen with the name input to change it, realized in the fray I had never even found the insurance page and tried to get that information and seek out where input it…pages and pages of animated chaos hiding everything from me. My friend kept looking at me in confusion of why I wasn’t helping. All the while, Zar sat in front of me crying from her pain, dying in the waiting room of the hospital that was suppose to help her simply because they had chosen a registration program—the program that admits you to enter in for help—that was overrun by entertainment.

And in my desperate groveling for what to do, how to get her seen, how to navigate the impossible admission program, I woke up.

And when I woke up and thought about this dream, I cried out to God. Our culture is one of entertainment: It demands instant gratification and won’t venture forward without it; it laments boredom and simplicity (the very things that allow for the cultivating of curious and creative minds); it despises reality, wisdom and practicality (the things that allow for us to build lives well lived); it sucks away our time on meaningless things (social media, gaming, movies and shows); it takes our concentration and focus and availability to do the work God created us for. I did inventory of my own distractions, repenting for myself and the American Church.

I also looked up the woman’s name: Zar. The Hebrew word "Zar" means “alien, foreign, outside.”

This is the meaning of the dream and the exhortation to the body of Christ:
The hospital here is the body of Christ. People are dying outside of Jesus; desperate for help and for the Gospel. But we at the doorway, the ones meant to bring the Gospel to the lost and dying world so that they may know redemption and salvation, are failing. We are overridden with entertainment: flashy facades, video games, movies, TV, sports, activities, our own comforts, social media, anything fun. But people are dying! The lost are waiting to be found, the sick are waiting for the healing touch of Jesus, the broken are waiting to know the One who can put them back together, the confused are waiting for the clarity of Truth, the bound are waiting for their deliverer…and we who are suppose to reach out with the hands and feet of Jesus and draw them in are failing them.

Our heart for the lost must be GREATER THAN our desire for the flesh to be entertained.

Here is the passage the Lord gave me for this dream, please pause and consider:

Ephesians 2:13,17–20 “But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ…And He came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit."

God of Jacob

 “The nations rage, the kingdoms totter;
He utters His voice, the earth melts.
The Lord of Hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.”
Psalm 46:6–7

a prayer as the nations rage and the kingdoms totter:

©10-17-2023 hannah mclean

o God of Jacob
willing to wrestle
with the wayward, wounded and weary

rest You mighty hand
upon my heart
and mark me
with the limp of Your choosing
that i may never walk without You

for in You
is love and life and light

A poetic journey through Ephesians: Part 1

I have been studying the book of Ephesians this Summer. Each month I have been sharing things I've learned and poetry that has flowed from my time with the Lord as I meditate on the beauty contained in those 6 small chapters. Ephesians is one of the most beautiful books in the Bible; it is a declaration of the Truth of who God is, what He has done and what that means for us...a foundation upon which to build a worshipful heart. I have decided to share the poetry apart from the teaching on this blog.

 

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Ephesians 1:15–21 For this reason, because I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers, that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come.

 

EPHESIANS 1

©6/2023 hannah mclean  

 

we must ask not just
what is the hope to which He has called us
but what is the means by which
He has called

grace

blessed grace
heavenly grace
lavish, glorious grace
loving grace
purposeful grace
praise-worthy grace
persistent, pursuing, purifying grace
holy grace
mysterious grace
redeeming grace
life-giving, unifying grace
saving grace
sealing grace

His grace is not reckless
haphazard
flippant
it is carefully measured
to hit its desired mark
intentioned to bring about the greatest good
for you and for me
and for all of broken humanity
at whatsoever depth we have burrowed
 

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to be holy and blameless.
when the image of God was unhidden
on full display upon and within
human flesh
when knowledge of evil
had not yet weighed so heavily
that it bent the image bearer
distorting the goodness
opening the eyes to what was lost
and opening the flesh to
the pain of loss

the fall jolted man and woman
pushing the glory of innocence
outside their reach
closing the door of unhindered fellowship
with the One who made them
as they became debtors
working to worship
instead of beholders
ever flowing with it

and yet He from whom all blessings flow
brought forth His Son
His very self
a bridge foreknown
to offer us a way
to stand once again
the display of His image
and the beauty of His likeness
in the splendor of holiness
proclaiming through our washing
both the praise of His glory
and the wonder of His grace

------

the Divine seeks intimacy
with the dust

uncreated Deity
draws forth life with His holy hands
breathing upon it with His holy breath
imprinting it with His holy image

looking upon it with His holy eyes

He declares to it His holy love
and marks it with His holy affections

intending it to be His holy own

who could not marvel
at such glorious mystery
for though words fail
to corral its wonder
the heart does not fail
to know it—
endowed with capacity to receive

He—uncreated to withstand our worship
we—created to withstand His love

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the Ekklesia
the whole number of those who worship and honor Jesus
throughout the entire earth
and throughout the entirety of time

if my pursuit to understand this glorious inheritance
i found myself encompassed in these truths:

it is Jesus who builds His Church
the Lord Himself who adds to it
who fortifies its purified hearts with Himself
so that the gates of hell will not prevail
to tear it down
the fruit of His labor
the reward for His suffering
blood bought and beautified by holy fire

“you are Mine”
He proclaims
His voice rolling across the woes of earth
with the power to preserve
“for the glory of My Father.”

a church of saints
most holy things
sacred to God
set apart because
He Himself has done a sacred work there
a saving work
a glorious work

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He who knew no sin
became sin
so that we might become the righteousness of God.

holy flesh
absorbed the curse
brought forward by man’s fall
with all of its effects
we see within the shredded body
of the son of man
a clear picture of what sin has done
to the soul of man
a mangled mess
the image and likeness of the One who created
nearly lost
but for the joy set before Him

to be redeemed is to be liberated
to find oneself set free
because the debt that bought the chains was covered
and the ransom owed for sin was set into a holy palm

“Come wash your sin-stained robes,”
He calls to us
“make them white in the blood of the Lamb.”
He knows our palms
and spread His own before us
so that we may know His

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it is the Spirit of God that carries the
power to bring forth life

from the beginning
after almighty hands had set adam upon his dusty feet
the Almighty’s breath filled his lungs
for everywhere the Spirit breathes
life cascades forth

in the valley of dry bones
we watch His power spread across the dead
as the army of the Lord rises on Spirit’s breath

in the upper room
we hear His power spread across the surrendered
as the church of the Jesus Christ rises on Spirit’s breath

in believer’s lives
we see His power spread across the redeemed soul
as the flesh and its desires gives way to Spirit’s breath

Consumers or contributers

The Lord gave me a dream the other night that I’m going to share with you. It’s a fairly intense dream, but it holds both caution and exhortation, so even though it is personal and actually fairly emotional for me to share, I’m going to do it anyway.

The dream had two parts.

First, my family and I were on vacation in the mountains, and while we were there, we bumped into a whole bunch of tourists who were raving about tours you could go on where you could visit bears in their caves; guides would bring you through a series of caves where you could stand in the middle of mama bears and their cubs and interact with the cubs. To enter the tours, you had to go to the other side of the mountain, but there was a cave nearby, so I ventured in to see what it was all about. Inside there were mama bears and cubs of various sizes, the guides would have everyone walk quietly and move slowly, and the cubs walked among the people and let them stroke their fur. The mama bears mostly slept and laid nearby while these interactions took place, and the guides were on the lookout with bear spray and other tools to ensure that they didn’t hurt anyone if they rose up to protect their young. Both the mama bears and the cubs were not growing or functioning as bears should; they weren’t allowed to leave the cave and experience the world, nor were they allowed to interact with each other naturally. The bears were reduced to a tourist attraction, a spectacle to be consumed by the curiosities of humans.

In the second part of the dream, we arrived back at our rental home, it was tucked up in the forest and everything was covered in a blanket of pure white snow. As I was getting out of the car, I looked up and saw Nathan standing in awe with his hand on the back of a beautiful baby animal. It looked like it was glowing slightly, as it stood out against the white snow. It had just recently been born, and a short distance past it, not yet standing, was its twin. Jane and Sia was so excited, they ran up to the standing animal and began playing too roughly with it in their toddler joy. I looked around and saw the mother a few trees away; she had just given birth and was laying in a pool of blood, resting and trying to recover from a hard labor. I was moved with compassion for this weary mama, and was also suddenly struck by the danger of the situation: Not only was the baby too young to be handled, but a mother protects her young, and what if the mama woke up? I called for Jane and Sia to step back, and Nathan, recognizing what was going on, tried to help. In spite of our best efforts, the mama woke up. She snorted and lunged toward her baby, and Nathan sprinted to get Jane and Sia. But the mama was too weak; she lurched forward, staggering…and suddenly, in the chaos of this moment, a large crowd of people burst out of the woods beyond them excited to see the new baby animals. There were tourists, a photographer wanting to get the perfect shot, and guides telling the people to move quietly and stay back. The weak mother began to panic, staggering between the trees and babies like a trapped animal. I begged the photograph to leave and to make everyone go away; I told him that the babies weren’t ready to be handled, that the mama hadn’t healed yet and she hadn’t been able to tend to them as they needed to be tended to so they could grow into what they had the potential to be. And finally, as he reluctantly agreed to leave, I looked around at the pure white snow and saw that it was stained with bright red blood; pools and streaks and splatters covered the ground. And in the emotional pain of the moment, I woke up.

When I woke up and considered this vivid, detailed dream, I realized that I had been thinking that these animals were deer (a doe and two fawns), but I realized as I looked at them that they were not deer, they were camels. The mom had a hump and a long neck, and the baby stood taller than Nathan. This startled me, because camels don’t live in snowy mountains, they live in deserts. These were unique and different creatures to be found in this place; they were not the usual bears that the people were used to seeing and using for their own pleasure and purposes. These babies were not to be used, not touched or even looked upon until the right time: first, the one who birthed them needed to heal, to adjust to her new environment, and to take the time necessary to raise up the babies to their full beauty and strength. Until then, they were all much too vulnerable.

There are many things in this dream that were just for me, but here is the caution and the exhortation for others:

The tourists in this dream are those in the Body of Christ who walk out their faith as consumers. They go from person to person, place to place, soaking in and taking part in the work that God does in other people’s lives. They observe and delight in the faith journeys of others, hunting down the thoughts and efforts of other believers so as to take what they can for their own pleasure and encouragement. They are like the 5 foolish virgins in Matthew 25, wanting to borrow the hard-earned oil from their neighbors’ lamps.

But here is the thing, you can’t borrow another’s faith and think you can stand on it when you face the righteous Judge…while there is nothing wrong with delighting in and finding encouragement in the work of God in each other’s lives—we SHOULD be testifying, bearing witness to and encouraging each other, that is the mandate of walking in fellowship—we must be very careful to ensure that we aren’t ONLY consuming the fruit of the faithful lives around us.

Are you bringing what God has given you to share with others? I’m not talking necessarily about service…I am talking about contributions of your faith journey. All that any of us really have to bring to the Body is whatever the Lord places in our hands…but it is our responsibility to seek Him, to wrestle with Him for blessing, to taste and see and declare, to contribute what He has given us to hold, to speak the truth of who He is and what He has done in and for us in love…to bring to the table a basket full of the spiritual fruit of our labor of faith. The Body needs these individual baskets so that it can be completely edified and come to full fruition.

Are you contributing? Because when we walk in fellowship as mere consumers, we actually threaten the well-being of those who are growing around us, because we are taking from their spiritual lives continually without replenishing them with our own.

A Testimony: A Dignified Woman

I wrote the testimony below sometime last year; at the time, it was the gathering of words articulating where I stood in my journey of healing my wounded femininity. I sat on it for a long time, careful which hands I placed it in as the Lord faithfully brought it to completion. But yesterday I had an interaction that struck me in a way that opened the door to share it with you: I had a woman I am acquainted with take me aside and sweetly affirm and encourage me in my giftings and my walk.

This might seem simple and small, but it was sort of the cherry on the top of a heap of kind and affirming words that women have offered me over the last few years. I want you to understand that I have spent the majority of my walk with Jesus with my eyes forward and my hands extended; I have received from the Lord and offered to anyone who cared to accept whatever He placed in them. I had no doubts of the worth of His work in me, and yet, no expectations that anyone wanted what I held out…because, as you will read below, I was taught not only did I have nothing to offer the Body of Christ, but anything I DID have the audacity to bring would inevitably cause it damage because I am a woman. The majority of the time I have followed Jesus, I mostly have just quietly fixed my eyes on Him and done whatever He told me to do, setting my obedience and His faithfulness to me as the only desired outcome I could perceive.

At the beginning of this year, I printed a prayer booklet for the women at my church. I almost didn’t do it; I set the call down on a heaped up table to wait another’s direction and time. But the Lord picked it back up and set it back into my hands with the firm reminder that it was between us. So I completed the work and looking down into the box of bound booklets, I felt a wave of freedom wash over me.

Do you remember when Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead? He came out of the tomb, fully alive but wrapped in grave cloths; the living being hidden beneath the bands of death. And Jesus said to his family, “Unbind him, and let him go.” It was the family that had wrapped him up, and it was the family that took part in the unbinding. I spent 17 years undergoing spiritual abuse of those who claimed the name of Jesus, they bound me up in clothes that were meant for the dead. But as the Lord has brought about deep healing in me over the last 6 years, He has brought along side me those who carry the name of Jesus to unbind me so that the life that the Lord has borne in me can be seen and known and bear witness to the redeeming power of our Savior.

If you have been among those voices, who have championed me forward, helped wipe the dirt off my face, stilled the shaking of my hands, tipped up my chin to speak encouragement, cheered me as I stumbled along, taken the time to speak worth over my walk…thank you. Thank you for affirming the healing work the Lord has done in me, for taking part in the redeeming of this broken woman and ensuring that what the enemy has sought to keep hidden is drawn fully into the light. I don’t know what all the Lord has in store for me, but He has restored my ability to dream, and I know that the testimony He has given me will roll out before me as I take each step of faith.
 
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Growing up, I did not know I had dignity.
It was whipped out of me with skewed teachings on scripture,
it was stripped off of me with the glares and disdain that grew as my body did,
it was erased from my personhood as effectively as my humanity was dismissed,
and it evaded me as surely as my womanhood did not.
I was taught to fear myself,
that the depravity of nature that came along with my femininity
was to be hated
and, if i knew what was good for me,
should cause me to tremble my way
right under the superior moral covering of angry men.

Growing up, I did not have a voice.
It was silenced when I questioned,
rebuked when I expressed thoughts that did not align with those over me,
dismissed because I was female.
I remember wanting to be heard;
for someone to believe that the ponderings that swirled behind
my peace-keeping eyes had value,
for someone to tell me that the brain I was given
had a greater use than knowing recipes and storing shopping lists,
for someone to allow my hopes, dreams and imaginings
to contribute to the living that was happening around me.
I wanted someone to let me speak
and to affirm my right to use my voice by taking the time to listen to it.

Growing up, I was taught to loathe the fullness of my femininity;
I was taught to minimize myself
to the tidy boxes of convenience and usefulness,
and to discard the rest of me at the door.
In my fullness I was simply too much;
I was to require nothing from the world around me
and to bring to it only what it wanted from me.
And the message was clear:
woman is an object to be used and taken from…
any part of her that pushes back against this message
is rebellious and wicked and should be subdued at all cost,
and every measure taken to ensure this message sinks in
is on the tab of her own conscience.

When I graduated high school at 17, I moved out of my childhood home a week later. I left behind religion and all things related to it in the hopes that I would find a better understanding of who I was and a better box of womanhood to climb into. But all I found was the same degradation in a different suit. Everywhere around me were voices and imagery shouting that dignity, value and purpose were measured by people “qualified” to make such determinations; the boxes I found had only enough room for my usefulness or my ability to offer what was wanted from my body. Everywhere I looked, it was confirmed to me that woman equated with object, not person.

And I accepted my lot.

When I encountered Jesus, I watched Him from a distance. He sat at a beautiful table where He had laid out a feast of wonderful things. There were chairs and people seated around Him, delighting in His presence and His benefits. I saw grace overflowing from the table, the crumbs of which fell onto the floor around His feet where dogs licked them up. My eyes bypassed the people who were seated and watched the dogs. I was struck with hope by the fact that He let them come near Him and I thought, “If He lets the dogs come, surely so can I.” I was fascinated by watching them take the crumbs as their own without being shooed away and I thought, “If I could just have a crumb of His grace, that would be enough.” I mustered up all the courage I had, and making myself as small as I could, I took my place with the dogs and crawled over to His table…but when I reached out my hand for a crumb of grace, it found instead His hand for He had bent down to the ground where I was, and touched my hand when it reached out. He looked into my dumbstruck eyes and drew me up from the floor, pulling out a chair beside Him with the invitation to sit in a seat at His table and partake in the fullness of His feast.

And that wonder…
that wonder at being lifted from floor to table,
from beast to person,
from intruder to invited,
from beggar to beloved…
that wonder has never worn off.

That was 17 years ago and I have spent those years “growing up” in Him.
But unlike the years before it,
THIS upbringing redeems and heals
as it brings about the undoing of the past
because I am accompanied by His Word and by His Spirit.

As I grow up with Him, I have learned that I have dignity.
It was placed into me by the hands that formed me,
it is written onto me by the words of Scripture,
it covers me as surely the blood of Jesus washes me
and the Holy Spirit declares me His own,
it is as certain as the imago Dei that cannot be erased from my being.

As I grow up with Him, I am learning how to use my voice.
A voice that I am not just invited to use, but compelled to use;
a voice that does not merely exist, but has something of value to say;
a voice that carries the power of life and death;
a voice with place, position and purpose in heavenly pursuits;
a voice that carries His authority,
brings forth His word,
gives vision to the treasures hidden in the quiet of His presence.
I have a voice that no longer bends to permission given or denied by man,
but speaks in obedience to the Father.
A voice that seeks not for glory of self,
but for glory of God.
A voice no longer silenced in kingdom purposes.

As I grow up with Him, I am learning to walk in the wholeness
and fullness of a female who bears His image.
Because I have come to believe this Truth:
A good God, in love, created woman in His image for His glory.
And I can stand upright, with an uplifted chin,
as a woman—
redeemed and set apart—
bearing witness by my life of the heart of the Father for humanity.
As a woman,
I am not a hinderance to the gospel,
but a conduit through which it can be more fully known.

I am still in the process of “growing up.”
But if any of this resonated with you, then I want to bear witness to you that in every way we have been broken as women, the broken body of Jesus will surely heal us.

"Righteous men"

How many of us settle for the righteous life of Lot, when the Lord has called us to the righteous life of Noah?

This might not be a fun word to read, but my heart is unsettled and these are the words I have to bring you. My prayer is that you would hear me out and deeply consider them, I will include a prayer at the end as these thoughts keep pushing me to pray.

2 Peter 2:7–8 “And if He rescued righteous Lot, greatly distressed by the sensual conduct of the wicked (for as that righteous man lived among them day after day, he was tormenting his righteous soul over their lawless deeds that he saw and heard)”

Genesis 6:9b “Noah was a righteous man, blameless in his generation. Noah walked with God.”

To begin, I wanted to be clear that there is only one way to be declared righteous before the Lord, and that is through the atoning sacrifice of Jesus for our sins; if we accept His work of salvation on our behalf, He takes our wickedness and gives us His righteousness. That’s it. Our own efforts of external exertion can only produce self-righteousness, which has no ability to produce eternal life. We need Jesus to be declared righteous before God.

That being said, the Bible tells us that both Lot and Noah were “righteous men.” There are so many parallels between their lives, and yet, several stark differences.

Lot was Abraham’s nephew, you can read his story in Genesis 11–19. He was drawn to the city of Sodom, where he took up residence and partook of its prosperity. He lived his life in the middle of the wickedness that took place there, and the ways of the city took root in his family as it mixed in with his daily living. And when the Lord finally had to call Sodom to account for its evil deeds (not even 10 righteous people lived there), He sent angels to help Lot escape from his home…but the tangling of his life with the lives of those in Sodom had consequences, he lost his wife to her longing and his daughters had gained no knowledge to discern between right and wrong.

Noah was the son of Lamech, one of only eight to have witnessed both the pre- and post-flood world. You can read his story in Genesis 5–9. The world he was born into was overrun by evil, it says in Genesis 6:5 that “the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually.” The wickedness of humanity that had taken such root that their lives produced only evil fruit all the time. “But Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord.” He was a preacher of righteousness, living according to God’s plumb line of right and wrong, walking with God and not with man. And like in the story of Lot, humanity mounted the threshold to the door of just judgment, and God invited righteous Noah to escape. “Make for yourself an ark,” He said to him, and Noah obeyed everything God said. He did the hard labor of nearly 100 years of building in the face of ridicule and scorn, surrounded by the evils of unrighteous living, but set apart for the Lord. And the Lord preserved the people that He had made and marked with His own image through one man and his family. And under the rainbow of covenant, the eight of them rebuilt and carried on the good work God had created humanity for in the beginning.

When you read the stories, did you notice the similarities? God spared these righteous men from being destroyed by His judgment. Both of these men lived surrounded by wickedness, a lone light in a dark environment. Both of these men got to take their family with them.

But there are many differences too. Lot couldn’t leave without being pulled out…It says in Genesis 19:16 “But he lingered. So the men seized him and his wife and his two daughters by the hand, the Lord being merciful to him, and they brought him out and set him outside the city.” Lot lingered and he was spared by the mercy of God. But Noah, he was spared by his obedience to the invitation of God to receive mercy. God didn’t have to pluck Noah out, Noah rode above the waters of judgement by faith and the faithful labor of his hands in response to God’s commands and invitation.

The environments of both of these men was dark, but Noah had walked with God and lived according to God’s righteous ways while Lot had walked with the men of Sodom and struggled to keep and desire God’s ways because he had allowed the seeds of wickedness to grow in his internal garden.

I write this to encourage you to—as I have and am doing with myself—examine your heart and your ways before the Lord. God will save anyone who trusts in Jesus for salvation, but there is the reality of 1 Corinthians 3:10–15, where we are told that the sum of what we build upon the foundation of Jesus will be revealed by fire. Are you building well? Are you forming the structure of your life by the instruction and with the materials commanded by God (as Noah did, building the Ark according to the measurements and directions he was given)? Or are you setting up residence in structures made by human design and struggling as you waver between King and country?

Our God is a jealous God, He knows that our idolatry brings about the destruction of our souls, and in love He continually calls to us to walk whole-heartedly with Him. I’ve been studying the relationship between God and Israel, and I am struck again and again by the weight and detriment of mixing our lives with the culture in which we abide instead of setting ourselves apart for the God in whom we are invited to abide. Throughout the books of the minor prophets, we see a glimpse at God’s view of the mixed man who comes to worship: He’s like, “I reject your sacrifices, your words are empty and yours songs are appalling to Me. If you want Me to receive your ministry to Me, than seek Me on a heart level, and let Me align your life to My heart and My ways.”

God is merciful, and He WILL save the righteous man…but have we settled for the righteous life of Lot, or will we aim to be Noahs in our generation? Because the truth is, we are living closer to the Revelation than to Eden, and in those last chapters of the good Book we find this call, “Come out of her, My people, lest you take part in her sins…”

—————

Father, purge me with hyssop and I will be clean. Wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. [Psalm 51:7] Teach me Your way, Lord, that I may walk in Your truth; unite my heart to fear Your name. [Psalm 86:11] You are the only one righteous, Lord, I bend the knee to Your plumb line of good and evil. You have created me for Your purposes, conform my life to whatever You wish for it be; may I live whole-heartedly in pursuit of You and Your kingdom. Your will be done, Father; [Matthew 6:10] in my mind, my heart, my life and my walk. May I be fully surrendered to You; rooted in the truth of Your word and governed by Your Spirit. You are holy, holy, holy; purify my worship to reflect that You alone hold my heart. Keep me, Father, wrap me up in Your faithful arms and guard me from offending You. May my life bring You glory, honor and praise. In Jesus name, Amen.

In the beginning

He always brings me back to the beginning. Not of my life, but of life itself. He lifts me up from the deepest caverns of my most painful wounded being and sets me upon His shoulder so that I can watch Him create all that exists. “In the beginning, Elohim created the heavens and the earth.” (Genesis 1:1). “Watch.” He whispers, “Listen to My voice, see what springs from My authority and reverberates off of this great void with crescendos of My glory. Behold My intention, be moved by My love, gape at the splendor of My making, bend your knee at the magnitude of My power.” And in the keeping of this holy, holy, holy God, I immerse myself into the wonder of His name.

i am Your idea, Elohim
    i am not Your afterthought
    i am by design, not by accident
    the result of a good Creator’s
    careful hands

Every day ordained;
    His breath in my lungs and
    His Spirit in my body
    Born twice as His own

i am not lesser
    i am loved
i am not unacceptable
    i am intended
i am not unwanted
    i am called and appointed
i am not undesirable
    i am redeemed

From the vantage point upon His mighty shoulder, I renounce every thought and word that has scratched itself upon my being—inside and out—the poisonous lie that the One who knit me together did not do good work. For into the marvel of the earth that surrounds me, I have been placed by Sovereign hands.

Biblical Women

I saw this post yesterday @sketchysermons, and it made me smile. I’ve been on an intentional journey since 2018 to gain an understanding of what “biblical womanhood” looks like; in part because I have been healing from the damage done to my femininity by my childhood church during critical ages of development, but also partly so that I can articulate to my children God’s view of women. In general the Church exalts the Marys of the Martha’s sister variety, quietly learning at the feet of Jesus, and the Ruths with their devoted, servant hearts. But scripture has a lot more to say about the women God made and chose to include on the pages of His holy book than this woefully limited (though lovely) box has room for. Personality and matters of the heart are two different things, and the exclusion of the former from discussions surrounding womanhood has been detrimental to the dignity of women in the body of Christ because many of us find ourselves disqualified before we’ve even set foot on the ground. This tiny sketch breaks down the sides of the box we’ve set up and forces us to reconsider its boundaries.

This sketch speaks of Jael, who was honored when she drove a tent peg through the skull of Sisera, the commander of a wicked king’s army, with such force that it plunged into the ground beneath it. There’s twice I can think of (1 Samuel 25 and 2 Samuel 20) where one single woman faced entire armies on full-force revenge missions and stopped them from causing mass destruction. The apostle Paul, who wrote a large portion of the new testament, honors the women who worked side-by-side with him in the spread of the gospel—supporting financially, laboring physically, and even, in the case of Phoebe, going on a dangerous mission to bring one of his letters into Rome where Nero was in the process of lighting believers on fire for entertainment purposes. The church needs to remember Jesus doesn’t just affirm Mary, He affirmed her sister Martha (John 11:5) whose bold personality may have made it hard for her to sit still, but it certainly brought with it a propensity to get things done. The Lord highlights a great variety of personalities and propensities including prophetesses, business women, teachers, former prostitutes, a deaconess and even a female apostle (Romans 16:7) highly respected among the disciples.

I’m still gathering my words, but I can say with full confidence that it is not scripture that minimizes or demeans women—the womanhood we see in the Bible is quite a beautiful, dynamic thing to observe—instead, it is human explanations, though often well-intentioned, that continue to do the greatest damage. So if you are on your own journey, I encourage you to set aside the teachings you’ve gathered, and do your own wrestling with God through the pages of the Bible, starting at chapter 1 of Genesis, with the understanding that a good God, who does good work, in love formed woman in His own image. And whether you are the type of woman God created to tend a home or to build a house, to mother a child or to disciple a neighbor, to gently hold the hand of the weak or to curl your fingers around a tent peg, you will find that Biblical Womanhood includes your personality type. And as for heart posture, Jesus will align and refine us with His Word by His Spirit as we abide in Him.

And that is all for now. But, if you see me with this sticker somewhere on my person, you will know why. :)

A paraphrase of Psalm 143

Sometimes I find a Psalm that mirrors my heart’s cry, and in it I find the healing balm of companionship in my suffering. Here is my paraphrase of Psalm 143:

"Lord, hear my prayer! I’m crying out for mercy; pleading with You not to bring the judgment I deserve, but instead to bring Your faithful, righteous nature to tend to me because my life is all out of sorts.

I want to serve You freely, but the enemy won’t let up. He pursues the entirety of me; he crushes my whole life into the ground. My body fails, I cannot endure the pressing: I am dejected—thrown down. His foot won’t lift from my back; his figure and shadow block the light, and darkness overwhelms me. My spirit faints, Lord. My heart is appalled by self and circumstance.

As I sit here in the darkness with the oppressor’s strength upon me, I turn my mind to consider You; I lean upon the testimonies of what You have done…Your work and Your love, the ways You have worked in me and on me, turning my previous seasons of fainting in parched deserts into flourishing vineyards of flowing new wine. I remember who You are, I remember Your heart for me and Your power in me and Your love for me. I stretch out my hands to You. You say if we thirst, we are to come to You, and I am like a scorched land—dried up and emptied of life. I hunger and thirst for You and I will be satisfied.

Quickly, Lord. I languish. I need Your hand and Your help now. My spirit fails. Don’t turn Your face from me or hide the light of Your countenance from me. If You turn away, all is lost for me.

Let me hear You this morning—in the opening of my eyes to the promise of light, I trust if I listen, I will hear the song of love You sing over me.

Make me know the way I should go, for all of my hope for standing or moving from beneath the enemy’s strength is found in You. You are ALL of my hope. ALL of me is crying out to be lifted by ALL of You. Deliver me! I have run to You for refuge, let me find deliverance in the shelter of Your presence.

Teach me Your will, for You are my God. Not enemy or self or any other thing gets to direct me from this point. I want things Your way, according to Your will—no lesser thing will do. Your Spirit is good, only You can lead me on level ground, in right ways, so that I rise in good standing with solid foundation beneath my feet. I want my feet to land upon the narrow way, the path of life.

For Your name’s sake, Lord, preserve my life. I am Your servant, I carry Your name as I journey through this life. I want people to look at me and see Your love, your righteousness and Your standards at work; I want them to watch you intimately weave Your life into the life of one You made. If You are not working in me and on me and through me, I will tarnish Your name. For Your name’s sake, I need You to lift my soul from this trouble in a display of Your righteousness at work. I need You to flood me with Your steadfast love and cut of my enemy’s power over me through it. Your love destroys the oppressor’s grip, it causes the adversary’s vexation to cease, it overrules the afflicter’s power to destroy.

I long to serve You well. In every way the enemy hinders this longing in this season, for the sake of Your name, make manifest Your victory and lift me up."

What my ruin cannot rob me of

It was one of those day. They don’t happen often, maybe a handful of times in my life. I looked in the mirror and my involuntary reaction to what I saw was to weep. I bawled. The body of the person looking back at me was so broken, so fallen, so grotesque that the hope-extracting question that lingers in the back of my mind hit me like a whip and left a ringing in my ears: “Is my body so far gone that it is irreparable?” I wanted to respond with, “No. With God all things are possible;” but my memory knows the paths my body has walked and limped and staggered and dragged itself. So instead I let myself sink to the floor and give the tears the time they needed to fall.

When the wells of sorrow or disappointment or discouragement or whatever painful mix those salty waters held finally ran dry, I stood and dried my face as I heard myself whisper, “Grieve quickly the things you cannot change.”

Twenty years have taught me that it’s on the days like these that I know I need to cover my broken body with a garment of thankfulness. So as I opened the door that allowed me my moment of confrontation, I chose to be grateful that even in my state of perpetual ruin, I can still serve the Lord.

And with that truth a necessary crutch, I continue my limp as I wait for tomorrow, because tomorrow is a new day…and maybe that one will be the day of redemption.

———

John 12:1–3 “Six days before the Passover, Jesus therefore came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. So they gave a dinner for him there. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those reclining with him at table. Mary therefore took a pound of expensive ointment made from pure nard, and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped his feet with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.”

The lower shelf

I’m in the process of going through a “forgiveness journey,” venturing through the book Forgiving What You Can’t Forget by Lysa Terkheurst; it’s been an interesting trek as it has unveiled aspects of my life that have really caused me to limp in areas where I should stride.

The week I am in currently is looking into events or lessons that impacted my life in profound ways (for better or for worse). I find myself considering some things I picked up along the way and how they have affected my gate.

Over the last several years I have been gathering words to help me heal from the warped view I received of my femininity and worth; I was not certain I had dignity and struggled to maintain my humanity in the face of the objectification that stripped me of personhood. I grew up believing I was a second class human, destined for the cast offs of life, always just out of reach of what I truly wanted. And I adapted—human beings are incredible in their ability to adapt—I trained myself that though I was free to dream without limits, I was to stretch no higher than the lower shelf and to be content with what I found there.

This translates in some interesting ways as an adult in the Body of Christ. Do you want to know how I answered the question, “How have these events or perceptions affected what you believe about God?”? I wrote, “His best love and blessing are for others, and I am just grateful for the crumbs of grace. My hand doesn’t reach high enough.” I find that over the years I have battled these words, “It can cause me to stop seeking the desires laid on my heart because surely I’ve received all He’s willing to give someone like me.”

I walk out my faith in this tension: I KNOW the Lord’s generous, lavish love—it has landed upon me with such gentleness and such force that it was shaped me forever—and yet I never stop marveling at it. I am a book filled with innumerable testimonies that witness of God’s outlandish heart for me…and the reason I probably remember each of these markings so vividly is because they still surprise me every time.

I wrote this down in my journal as I process that, imagery to my place:

I see myself as a little girl
looking longingly at the festivities
of a party…
while clutching my invitation
in my grateful hand.
Longing to belong.
I’ve entered through the gate,
eager to celebrate,
but unable to shake
the outside from within.
Courage and faith
moved my feet to come,
but it is only the certainty of love
that will embolden me
to enter in.

I know there are no second tier citizens in the kingdom of God; He doesn’t set aside a group of people who He withholds His greatest blessings from; He doesn’t mark some of us as acceptable, but not accepted; He doesn’t plant the longing for all into the hearts of those intended only for some.

Ephesians 1:3–10 says “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with EVERY spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as HE CHOSE US in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before Him. IN LOVE He predestined us for adoption to Himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of His will, to the praise of His glorious grace, with which He has blessed us in the Beloved. In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, ACCORDING TO THE RICHES of His grace, which He LAVISHED upon us, in ALL wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of His will, according to His purpose, which He set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in Him, things in heaven and things on earth.”

In Christ, I get EVERY blessing because IN LOVE He chose to LAVISH the RICHES of His grace on me. This is the truth. It’s the truth the overshadows the lies to which I have adapted. It’s the truth that speaks the better word than the voices that set me up to settle for the dust. It’s the truth that lifts my eyes to the heights and gives me the courage to stretch out my hand. I may have approached Jesus’ feet to wrap my desperate fingers around the crumbs of grace that fell from His table, but He didn’t leave me there; His hand reached down to pull me up and He gave me a chair so that I could partake of the fullness of His feast.

So today I look upon my mud-smattered image and praise the Lord that no matter how much dirt has gathered and hidden my perception of place in this life, I hold within my hand the blood-bought, Spirit-sealed invitation to enter in and partake with all believers of the greatness of His lavish love and glorious grace.

The Saints on the Battlefield

I wanted to share with you a vision the Lord gave me several months ago, I wasn't sure what to do with it at the time, but feel like it is time to share. 

I was reading in Psalm 102 where the Psalmist speaks of Zion (the dwelling place of God), just going through my reading in the usual way, when I read a verse and suddenly found myself bawling—tears streaming out of my eyes. I was startled, and reread what I had just passed: Verse 14 says “For Your servants hold her stones dear and have pity on her dust.”

Suddenly I found myself standing on a huge battlefield, it stretched endlessly for as far as the eye could see in every direction. It was covered in rolling hills (similar to the end of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe), and sprinkled across these hills were saints (anyone washed by the blood of the Lamb). Every single one of them was holding in their arms a gigantic boulder; a rock so heavy it required all their strength and left no room in their hands for any other weapons. They were standing, looking out across the battlefield, which was covered with piles of rubble, and they were weeping. Not just “crying,” but weeping with the desperation and sorrow of ones who had just watched their loved ones be completely destroyed.

The battlefield was the Church. And the saints who remained standing at the end of the war were the ones who had not set down the boulders in their arms; the stones of Truth revealed to us in the Word of God. The piles of rubble were the fallen saints who had compromised and disregarded the Truth of the Bible.

Followers of Jesus, to survive the battle that is coming, you will only remain standing if you are rooted deeply in the Truth of the Word of God. You must consider the foundational truths found in the Bible of Who God is, what He is like, what He says is right and wrong to be dear…so dear that you are unwilling to lay them down for any reason to appease any person, including, for the ease of your own life, yourself. You must also remember who your enemies truly are (not each other or other people) and fight this spiritual battle not with physical weapons, but with prayer.

burn away the dross

 a purified cry
©12-14-2020 hannah mclean

oh to lock eyes
with Your eyes of fire
let them burn away the dross
You see into my
heart and soul
i will not suffer loss
for the fire of
Your faithful flames
makes pure
and right and true
and all that must
be burned away
leaves me nearer, Lord, to You

my heart
it burns within me
my soul
for You it longs
my life
it reaches heavenward
my spirit
pours out song

this i know,
Faithful and True,
i will endure the ashes
for the beauty
that is drawn by You
i kneel upon the altar
as a living sacrifice
burn away the dross
that when i rise
there stands
an overflowing fountain of new life

Your diadem befits You
as my cry begins to ring
“behold the Lamb”
behind me
before me
“behold the King”

-----
Revelation 19:11–13 “Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse! The One sitting on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness He judges and makes war. His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on His head are many diadems, and He has a name written that no one knows but Himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which He is called is The Word of God.”

You know

knowing
©6-1-2020 hannah mclean

You know
the details of all light shines upon
and the actuality hidden in darkness

You know
the heights of glory’s reach
and the depths of evil’s roots

You know
the multitude of chaos’ tangled web
and the paths of its unweaving

You know
the balance of justice’s scales
and the measures of its opposition

You know
the words and silences the ring out 
and the hearts that offer them up

and when my mind 
my heart
my understanding
cannot fathom the situations
i behold
i have but one place to rest

i know 
You

clarity and purity and beauty

where all is clear
©5-23-2020 hannah mclean

there is clarity
in the purity
in the beauty
of the Holy Holy Holy

untainted by sin
wholeness
untarnished
lacking nothing

Creator
of wisdom
of vision
of life

nothing is outside of
Your scope
never surprised
never startled
never afraid
because all is known

all seeing
amidst stillness
steady hand
without defeat

victorious
Almighty
God of Wonders
God of Miracles

You unscramble
what is twisted
distorted
and maimed

if i am to limp
it will be after You have
worked
not before

Keeper
Comforter
Finisher of Faith

i will eat
from the table
You have prepared
drink from the cup
You have shared
lie down in the pastures
You lead me to
and rest with the
quietness of waters
ever beside me

there is clarity
in the purity
in the beauty
of the Holy Holy Holy

the Refuge that never fails

my Hiding Place
©4-26-2020 hannah mclean 

You are my Hiding Place
Your wings close over me
when life brings
pain unyielding
fear overflowing
brazen unknowns
that sweep the stability
of my feet
downstream

You are my Hiding Place
Your wings close over me
shielding me from darkness
when sides too steep
create valleys too deep
to venture forth
or rise
Your presence
passes through
my fingers vainly covering
to show me light
in the dark nights
of my soul 

You are my Hiding Place
Your wings close over me
shelter
in the battles
that rage
inside and out
in the storms
that toss me
bruising
breaking
bewildering
in the many rushing waters
that threaten to
uproot the hope
dislodge the dream
distort the way
and
in the mundane sway
of waiting
waiting
day by day

You are my Hiding Place
Your wings close over me
when forgotten shadows
of times past
emerge within me
crippling the moment
marring the movement
of my present
i writhe beneath
the weight of
my weakest places
unafraid
to look
to feel
to weep
for i have learned
the ways of Your
mysterious healing measures
safe in Your shadow
mine yield

You are my Hiding Place
Your wings close over me
the Refuge
that never fails
fashioned from the everlasting stones
of Your love

seek the Lamb

Lamb and Lion
©3-22-2020 hannah mclean

there is a Lamb
there is a throne
there is worship to be given
there is a God who WILL be known

there is a Lion
there is a sword
there is honor to be given
to the One, true, living Lord

and if you do not
seek the Lamb
you won’t withstand
the Lion’s might
for the One who sits
upon the throne
embodies all that’s right
for the Lord who bids you welcome
stands as slain that you might come
before He roars
His second coming
and all creation
comes undone

there is a Lamb
and there is blood
there are sins that MUST be covered
that are rising as a flood

there is a tomb
there rose a King
there is redemption
laid before us
will you weep
or will you sing

for if you do not
seek the Lamb
you won’t withstand
the Lion’s roar
reach out for mercy and compassion
lest Grace’s offer
is no more