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.