Only the Lord is Worthy.

There are some words in my mind that are reserved for God alone; words such as—amongst other awe-filled descriptors—holy, sovereign and almighty. They are words that when paired with any other object or being cause the Spirit within me to cringe because any object or being that has been accredited with one of these set-apart attributes is unfit to bear it, and has been elevated to a place of worship meant for the Lord alone.

A favorite phrase I hear lately tossed around circles of Christian women and floating out of those teaching (or singing to) them is, “You are worthy.” I get where this incorrect statement comes from and why it is often spoken. I do. Christian women are seeking to help one another heal from years of being spiritually abused, repressed and disqualified from their place in the Body of Christ; we’re lifting each other out of the dirt, brushing off red paint we’ve had thrown on us and reminding each other who we are in the Lord. And one of the wonders we have to wrap out minds around is that Jesus loves us so much that He poured Himself out for our salvation; that no matter what identity we’ve had engraved in us by the voices around us over time, from the beginning, He laid out a plan to make us His own. It is a wonder that is healing balm to the wounded souls of the ones who has been told that as females they are of no value to the Church.

But here’s where things get twisted. When the Lord, who knows and sees all things, saw it fitting to stretch Himself out on the cross and take our rightful death upon Himself, He didn’t do it because we’re deserving. He did it because He had set His love upon us and to Him, it was worth pouring Himself out for our salvation. Let me give you a picture of what I mean:
My daughter has a stuffed panda; its fur is matted down, its eyes and nose are scratched from years of wear and tear, its white has long since turned to a a perpetual shade of light gray in spite of many washings, and there’s a little string sticking off its chin that reminds me there is just a worn thread that holds it all together. But that little girl would do anything for this panda: When it is lost, all gets set aside to hunt it down; when it is “hurt,” she creates a hospital to bring that panda healing; when panda has a birthday, she parties hard; to her, this panda is a light in her life. Now, is this stuffed animal worth anything in-and-of itself? No, I doubt a thrift store would even let it grace its shelves. But to her, it is of utmost value because she has set her love upon it.

And THAT is why, in spite of the fact that the Lord moved heaven and earth to die on a cross for us, HE is the ONLY one who will EVER be worthy. We are not worthy, we are beloved. When we delight that someone or something is “worthy,” we are saying that everything that comes to it is rightfully theirs; that in-and-of themselves lies whatever calls for or requires what they received. So we can say of the Lord that He is worthy of our praise, of our worship, or our devotion, of our very lives poured out…and we are speaking the truth. But if we look at ourselves and at what the Lord has done for us, and declare that WE are worthy of His saving work; we reveal that our understanding of both the Lord and of ourselves is woefully twisted and fearfully blurred because we have elevated ourselves to a pedestal we are utterly unfit to perch upon.

We ARE NOT worthy, only God is worthy. But we ARE beloved by a God who declares us of great value to Himself; and as He reveals to us this wonderful, merciful, mysterious truth, may we exalt Him as we fall prostrate in awe and gratitude before this marvelously weighty love.

Memorial Day Reflections

It gets me every time; the 3-Volley Salute followed by Taps. The sound of the first shot fired transports me back to the front row at my brother’s graveside service; encompassed by grief as I fix my eyes on a coffin containing his uniform-clad body. The shots that follow reverberate through my heart bringing back to life the places of pain that over time have grown dormant; shudders running through me from head to toe. And when finally there is silence, the gentle sound of Taps fills the air, as if wishing to soothe the abruptness of the pain that was just thrust upon me; a haunting accompaniment to my falling tears. 

Today as this tradition came to a close, I felt as these memories flashed before me—of a coffin lowering into a grave, of the feeling of dirt filling my shoes as it fell from the shovel while I put dirt onto his open grave, of the sobs that came in crushing waves breaking out of my chest with overwhelming intensity—gratitude. Time passes. Details and images in my mind grow fuzzy. But traditions like these take these memories, frozen in time I leave further and further behind me, and brings them for a moment into my today. They remind me that even if things get harder to remember, this fact remains: I am a marked woman. Marked by the life of my brother Noah, marked by the love I had for and received from him, and marked by the losses I know because he is no longer here.

The time for mercy is ending.

I want you to know that I am not a woman of politics, I am a woman of faith. So set aside your political lens before you read this, because I don’t care where you stand on the political spectrum. From my point of view, the battle belongs to the Lord: It is God against sin—not people against people—and I care about your soul’s wellbeing.

I’m going to be very frank right now; more direct than perhaps I have ever been on here. We’re at a crux as a country. When I sit down to pray, I find that God has shut up my instinctual prayer for mercy; that in the face of the atrocity of abortion, I am no longer allowed to cry out for mercy for our country. “It is the wrong prayer,” He tells me. Instead, I am lifting my voice to those around me with this plea, “Turn and repent!”

Let me lay out reality for you. In increasing measure over the last few years, we’ve been shown the blunt truth about abortion in very wide-reaching visuals and testimonies: Physicians have stood up and explained the heart-breaking process of removing living children from the womb piece by piece; Planned Parenthood executives have talked heartlessly about harvesting and selling the body parts of aborted children; former abortion workers and recipients of abortion have described the reality of what abortion is and its effects; statistics have shown that less than 2% of abortions are done because of rape/incest and less than 15% because of medical (physical & emotional combined) reasons; science has proven fetus’ ability to feel pain, made strives in helping them survive earlier and earlier outside the womb, proven the reality of what we all know…that a child in the womb is a living, individual human being. And yet, even in the face of that, in the last 2 annual reports from PP— the leading abortion provider in the US—they stated that 600,000+ new donors and over 250,000 volunteers stepped into their direct work since 2016. They showed that abortions increased and actual healthcare services decreased, government funding increased by $20 million, private contributions increased by $100 million and their total net assets increased from $1.6 billion to $1.9 billion. Legislation has arisen in state after state increasingly removing the personhood of unborn children, cheering resounds and lights shine as murder is legalized to the moment before birth, and the call has been lifted to accept infanticide (killing living, breathing infants outside the womb)—just yesterday senate democrats took a stand for letting babies born alive after failed abortions die on the table. Basically, as the blinders have been pulled off to reveal what is underneath the word “abortion” that we flippantly toss around, our society has called for more blood.

I’ve been reading through the bible this year, and I keep encountering verses about how innocent blood that is shed in a land pollutes and defiles the physical land on which it is shed and there is a point in which that blood will be too much and the land will “vomit you out” as God finally punishes utter wickedness.

Society, you have called for and celebrated death of innocent children. You look across the ocean at tribes participating in child sacrifice on physical altars to their local gods and arrogantly pat yourselves on the back for having a higher morality. But in our country, since the passing of Roe vs. Wade, we have sacrificed 60,997,447+ children on the altar of “Women’s Choice.” Whether you acknowledge or deny the LORD, He is still the one TRUE living God, and one day you WILL answer to Him, your knee WILL bow to Him and He WILL justly determine your eternal resting place. Turn and repent for the blood we have shed before the opportunity to receive mercy passes.

Isaiah 55:6–7 “Seek the Lord while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near; let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the Lord, that He may have compassion on him, and to our God, for He WILL abundantly pardon.”

Statistics on why people have abortions (per state): http://www.johnstonsarchive.net/policy/abortion/abreasons.html

How a child is aborted: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=53tzMV9OmvY

Upcoming movie of former PP exec’s life (rated R for violence): https://www.imdb.com/title/tt9024106/

Movie of real-life abortionist Grosnell: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt3722234/

Do not close your eyes any longer, don’t blindly follow narratives you want to believe because you want to be accepted by the culture around you…millions of children are killed in the name of “choice” every year. Stand for women. Stand for children. Stand for HUMANITY! Stand for life.

#abortion #prolife #istandforwomen #istandforlife #truth #turnandrepent

Complex Compassion

I’m burdened, you guys, so I am going to write about it. Compassion for the oppressed and compassion for the oppressor. I want to give you a glimpse into how I, as a follower of Jesus and the Bible, hold those two things together.

When I say that I have compassion for the oppressed and the oppressor, these are very different things and may look very different from each other when played out. I also want you to know that to feel both does not mean I am impartial, to feel both is not something that comes naturally to me, and to feel both has more to do with the Lord’s heart than with my own.

If I were to walk into a room in which sat a rapist and a rape victim, my inclination might be to do two things: Pummel the rapist and hold the victim while weeping, seeing, listening, and feeling the pain of the atrocity done to her. 

But as a believer in Jesus and a follower of the Bible (and if you claim the first, you should be doing the second), my responsibility is to take these feelings and bring them before the Lord. Because even though I have walked with Him for 14 years, it may just mean that if I were to walk into that scenario today, the only initial difference would be that I stop myself from doing the actual pummeling.

It is only when I kneel before the Lord is prayer that I find the compassion that is foreign to me. In prayer, I must lay before Him my fury over the oppressor, my sorrow over the oppressed, and my heart. I must set beside these things the truths and commands I see in scripture, and the heart of the Lord I read about there. Things like:
Psalm 147:3 “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
Matthew 5:44 “But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
Ezekiel 33:11”...As I live, declares the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live...”
And when all of these things are laid out before Him, I must wrestle.

Let me tell you about the pivotal moment for me surrounding this topic: Some of you may know that I have a heart for those caught in sex trafficking (broken sexuality and its effects are a whole). A number of years ago, I was praying one day about a big fight that was happening in Vegas. I was praying Psalm 72 and found there was one verse in particular that really captured me while I prayed:
Psalm 7:14 “From oppression and violence He redeems their life, and precious is their blood in His sight.” 
 
I cried out to God for the women who would be sold and used: declaring that no matter how they were viewed by any other human, in His eyes their lives were precious; that every drop of blood drawn by the violence of their oppressors was seen by Him and counted as something in His eyes. And then my prayers turned to the ones who sold and bought them; I prayed they would see the evil of their ways and turn from them; that intended violence would stop before it came to fruition; that they would know salvation....and, in my righteous indignation, that if they were not to turn from their wickedness, that He would stop the oppression from continuing by “wiping them out.” And as soon as the words came out of my mouth, the Spirit gently said to me, “But...precious in My sight is their blood.” And in that moment, I shut my mouth and I wept and I have not been the same since. Friends, when I pray for the oppressor, the intensity, purity and longing that fuel my prayers CANNOT come from me--mine are far too limited and faulty--they must come from the heart of the Lord; the heart that beats through the pages of scripture and in His Spirit that He left as a Helper to guide us into ALL Truth.

I want you to know this: You can learn many thing about the heart of God when you read His Word, but if you want to learn how to feel the heart of God, you cannot do that unless you pray. It is in prayer that your heart fellowships with His, that your heart wrestles with His, that your heart learns to feel what He feels for whomever He feels it. I do not know of ANY OTHER place where you can learn to feel the heart of God than with His Word in prayer. 

If you are a believer in Jesus, a follower of the Bible, one who wants to grow in likeness to Christ and reflect the beauty of your Savior, you must grow in truly KNOWING God’s heart. Because if you do not learn to wrestle in His presence with His Truth, you will distort Who He is and what He desires. The call on our life as His followers requires us to TANGIBLY depend upon Him to fulfill it, because left to our own volition, we will not land in a place that looks upon the wicked and declares, “Precious is their blood in His sight.”

Psalm 69:19–21

I came across this verse yesterday, and when I read it, the words swelled up in me. I’ve been processing through some childhood trauma, and I felt like the silenced voice of the little girl in me cried out to God with the psalmist.

“YOU know my reproach,” that little girl cried,
    “and my shame and my dishonor;
    my foes are all known to You.
Reproaches have broken my heart,
    so that I am in despair.”

Memories flowed through my mind as a sob welled up in my words...

“I looked for pity, but there was none,
    and for comforters, but I found none.”

I choked upon my sadness...

“They gave me poison for food...”
        and suddenly that little voice turned into that of my Savior
                     “...and for My thirst they gave Me sour wine to drink.”

And I cried. What a beautiful thing for the Lord to give me to rest upon as I heal. To give me a prophetic verse of Christ upon the cross to pair with my pain. In this passage I find two Truths that draw me into the arms of my Beautiful Healer:

First, the Lord was present with me in my suffering. He KNOWS it because He is acquainted with it.
And second, the cross is sufficient to cover the offenses done against me. He is enough.

trustworthy

simple trust
©10-31-18 hannah mclean

in spite of the complexity of my thoughts
of the specificity of my words
of the odd angles of my view
i am simple

i trust the LORD

wholly

if He tells me something
i believe Him

if His Word says something it true
i believe it

when i encounter hard things
i expect Him to be who He says He is
i expect Him to do what He says He will do

whether i understand fully now
or remain confused for the moment
i trust Him to reveal in His time
or conceal is His wisdom

i trust the Lord

wholly

and sometimes i wonder why
why do i do that?
why does it seem to come easy when others struggle?
where did that trust come from?
how come i can wholeheartedly lean on the Lord with such simplicity?

and in this season of healing old wounds
i see one reason

for many years
the LORD is the ONLY ONE i trusted 
every other person failed
even my own hands came up empty

but there was the LORD

and He was trustworthy
and i was overwhelmed with fear
and the sight was such a comfort
that i cast myself upon Him
i lay myself before Him
i wound myself around Him
i placed myself within His mighty arms

and in that place of trust
i found peace

and in that place of trust
i still find peace

and in that place of trust
i will always find peace

because simply put
the LORD is trustworthy
and in that sweet simplicity
i can wholly rest

-----

Isaiah 26:3–4 “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in You. Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD God is an everlasting rock.”

old wounds

To heal the wounds, we must be willing to look at them...and some of mine are straight up ugly.
---
my femininity and my childhood church
©10-29-18 hannah mclean

these big brown eyes
never changed size
whether they rested beneath my mama’s watchful gaze
or peered out from behind my papa’s leg
or wondered at the sights around me as i grew
or studied the floor in awkward discomfort
as i stumbled through ages and stages
or steeled themselves against the bombarding words
that sought control of what lay behind them.

it was these same big brown eyes
in my changing face throughout the years
you had to look into
as you declared to me
again and again and again
who i was
what i was worth
where i belonged
why i existed.

“sinful girl,”
you yelled into my innocent face
“you are the cause of all men’s sin;
and you must accept
these accusations and assaults against you
because to object is to admit your guilty conscience.”

“vile female,”
you slurred at my growing frame
“your place is one of servitude
because that is all you can be trusted with.”

“wayward woman,”
you proclaimed to my developing mind
“your voice, thoughts and feelings
will always be less than any man’s
because even if he is utterly wicked,
he still has more value than you
and the right to rule over you.”

“your
identity
is
sinner.”

“unfortunate one,”
you spoke with authority over me
“you are clothed in disgrace
because that is the only thing fitting
for the likes of your gender
until a man chooses to marry you
and raise your worth through bearing children.”

“fear me”
you said in Jesus’ name
“because whatever judgments men render true of you
based on your attire
or your obedience to them
will determine your eternal resting place.”

and had not the Lord
washed these big brown eyes with grace

i would still believe you