the flatterer and the accuser

the flatterer and the accuser
©5-4-14 hannah mclean

tongues bombard me
the flatterer and the accuser
creating confusion

in places of struggle and sin
the flatterer says
“stay!
all is well.
peace, peace,”
it sings to the places where
there is no peace
“do not consider, do not change,
listen as i sing your praises
lest you look upon your shame.”

in places of purity and redemption
the accuser says
“go back!
you are not well.
pick up the chains of the past
and wrap them around your neck
you are naked and shamed
without them.
you have not changed
nor can you ever.”

and to these tongues
which fill my ears with wicked lies
i say
“shut your mouth, satan.
it is the Spirit that both
affirms
and convicts
and you are not Him.
i will not overlook the sin that stains my heart
because you sing my accolades
serenading me with
hollow, flowery compliments
in a pursuit to drown out His voice
that desires my holiness.
and i will not doubt the reality of His redemption
as your judgments ring around my head
accusing me of walking amid your ranks
denying me the realities of
His redeeming work
and accrediting your work
to my clean hands.

hold your tongue.

i do not live at your beck and call
i will not swoon at your validations
nor grovel at your accusations.
it is the Spirit that both
affirms
and convicts
and you are not Him.”

Strength

Lately in conversation, the declaration of God giving strength to His people has stood out to me. Often times when I share the pains of the past few years, I hear others praise the Lord that He has given me the strength to get through it. And this is true, but not in the way I would typically describe it.

You see, there are times God gives me strength and there are times He simply IS strength for me. Both display and provide strength that is not my own, but the way in which it is given has been so profoundly different in my life. I wanted to try to articulate what I mean as the consideration of what it feels like moves me to tears every time.

I’m not a strong person, but I have walked through many things that have required great strength. And it is ok. It is ok that I’m not strong because my God is. Yes, sometimes He strengthens my spaghetti arms for battle and I am able to stand up in the face of things that should otherwise crush me and know victory. This is a beautiful thing; the contrast of what I am alone and who I am in the Lord is glorious, marvelous and mysterious.

But over the last few years, I have come to see and know God’s strength in another way. Like I said, I am not a strong person; over the past few years, those looking in on me has seen my fragility, they have tiptoed around my weaknesses and vulnerabilities with much care to not crush me. Because life has weighed heavy on me; it has beaten my heart, my spirit, my soul until I have been emptied out, left clinging to what I know, afraid to even look around me.

And yet, God has given me strength. No, He has not filled my body with power for battle (or even the ability to stand sometimes); He has not stopped life’s crushing blows from bombarding me...No, He has let me remain in my weakness.

Instead, He has spread out His strength beneath me so that I have had something soft and sturdy to land upon when I have fallen; He has wrapped His strength around me so that the broken pieces of me have not been lost along this jarring road I’ve walked; His strength has laid beside me when I have been unable to lift my weary head; He has bridled His strength to patiently listened to the endless, tired cries of every pain I have felt. And though I am not strong, I have walked through these years that have required great strength.

Because God is not just strength that replaces or pushes out weakness, sometimes He is simply strength IN weakness. In both He is sufficient, in both He is merciful, in both He is kind, in both He is faithful.

So I can echo the Psalmist (18:1) with all honesty in the face of my frailty, “I love You, Lord, my Strength.” And when you praise the Lord for the strength He has provided, I hope you will marvel with me at the beauty of what the simple presence of His strength can do for the weak and weary saint.

Mediations on Colossians: The knowedge of His will

Colossians 1:9-10
And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of His will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to Him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God.

“To be filled with the knowledge of His will.”
If I had a penny for every time I have heard someone express exasperation over their desire to know God’s will for them in a particular situation and that they find themselves unable to hear His clear direction, I would have many pennies. (For the record, I count myself among the “someones” mentioned above.) To those of us who struggle with this question and the seeming silence we find on the other side of our prayers and pleadings to the Lord in the daily situations we encounter, this place in Colossians should bring us much relief.

How do we attain the knowledge of His will? He tells us here that it requires SPIRITUAL wisdom and understanding. He also tells us clearly His will for us in a broad, yet specific, sense: (1) That we walk in a manner worthy of Him, (2) that we bear fruit in every good work and (3) that we increase in the knowledge of Him.

I truly believe that often the reason we encounter silence as we ask the Lord, “What is Your will in this situation?” comes not from His lack of desire to lead us (He’s always faithful to His promises and one of those promises is to lead), but instead from our error of seeking His will with our minds. We rationalize, we scrutinize every option, we pour over our pro/con lists...we push aside the Spirit with our over-analytical minds and paralyze ourselves. But here is the truth, it is the Spirit that reveals direction and wisdom for the directing of our lives because He has the power to bring about the understanding of the heart of God. 1 Corinthians 2:10 says that “...God has revealed to us through the Spirit. For the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God.”

We may not be able to find in scripture the specific answer to what school to go to, what country to minister to, whether or not to marry a certain person...but what we do find are direction to what the will of God for us looks like: God wants our life to please Him (scripture tells us what attributes are pleasing to God), He wants us to grow in doing what is good and right (scripture tells us what the fruits of the Spirit are and how we are to love others), and He wants us to grow in the knowledge of Him (scripture tells us who He is and what He is and how He is). It is that simple. There are many choices in life that don’t have a clear “right” and “wrong,” and that’s not the point of our lives anyway...if you desire that your life reflects the will of God for you, than put Him always before you and allow your faith to stretch as you move forward in the choice you make--trusting His character, His hand and His power will be with you. Psalm 16:9 “I have set the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.”

Isn’t it enough that a heart truly desires to please the Lord? God knows what we are: Psalm 103:14 “For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.” He knows the limitations we possess...is He really so cruel and distant as to say, “Know what I want of you, know the way you should walk, know the desires of My heart...Go!” without providing the means? No! Instead He puts His spirit in us as a helper and gives us His word as a lamp to show the path our feet should walk. His requirement of us is “Wash yourself in the blood of My Son and follow Me.” That is all. If He is big enough to purify us from our sins and restore our relationship with a holy God, surely He is big enough to cover us as we walk through the daily decisions we face...not because we know exactly what decision to make, but because He is faithful.

I think it is enough. I think it is enough to have a heart that sincerely says, “I want my life to reflect YOUR will for me, I want my life to please You, I want my steps to follow You, I want to hear Your voice. Do with me as You wish.” What more would the Lord require from imperfect dust? His grace is sufficient for our physical limitations and if His Spirit lives in us, we already possess the knowledge of His will for us.

Meditations on Colossians: The blood of peace

We’ve begun our study of the book of Colossians in our Life Group. I told my husband this morning, “There is some good stuff in there.” As I read through the first chapter, writing down my observations as I went, I found myself engulfed in several portions along the way. If I can gather some moments in my chaotic days, I would like to write out some of my meditations on this book.

Here is the first:
Colossians 1:19–20
“For in [Jesus] all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through Him to reconcile to Himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of His cross.”
As I read, I was very struck by the phrase “making peace by the blood of His cross.”

Have you ever considered the blood of the cross? I mean really looked at it? Today I saw the blood as it ran down the cross of Christ. I saw it, red and dripping from the top of the head of my Lord where the thorns of a twisted, mocking crown pressed into his limp and hanging head; it ran down His face, matting his hair; it dripped from his hands spread out and held in place by cruelly pounded nails; it poured from his side until only water remained; it flowed down between the wooden grooves of the hewn beams until it pooled at the foot of His cross.

And as I considered this trail of blood, I considered the contrast of what it must have looked like through the eyes of satan and what this passage in Colossians tells us it looked like through the eyes of God.

To satan, the blood of the crucifixion represented a violent attempt at victory; I imagine it said, “I have killed the Messiah, now He cannot bruise my head (Genesis 3)”; it was intended to thwart the redemptive plans of God; to crush his dignity, His deity, His authority, His royalty, His power; it was beaten and torn out of the flesh of Christ to humiliate and bring about pain; it was to represent the victory of sin, death and the power of the devil...

and yet, to God, it was the blood of peace.

It was the blood of peace...the red, flowing flag of surrender. Surrender not to the enemy but to the love of the One True and Living God. To God--the Creator, the King, the Authority--this blood signaled not the victory of satan but the victory of Love as it brought about a reconciled relationship between holy God and sinful man. Because the fullness of God delighted to dwell in the body of Christ, His fullness filled every drop that left His crucified body, His fullness brought about the reconciling peace for which it fell. The very FULLNESS OF GOD ran from the first drops that flowed in Garden of Gethsemane from the brow of Jesus all the way to the place of shame up on the Hill of Golgotha, it fell upon the ground where pilot’s soldiers whipped Him until He barely resembled a man, it drained along the road beside the groove left behind by the cross He dragged, it flowed upon the ground as the nails were driven through His flesh, and dripped from His perch of shame until only water remained. Jesus the god-man was not alone as He walked the path to willingly lay His life down for the sake of sinners; He literally dripped the fullness of God every step of the way. To God, this blood was the blood of peace...it was shed to reconcile ALL things to Himself. It did represent victory, not of the destroying power of satan, but of the life-giving power of God for those who believe.

So today, I considered the blood...and the contrast of what the eyes of those observing saw when they looked upon the cross of Christ. Because no matter what satan may have intended or saw as Jesus died that day, he did not know...in those moments, satan did not know that the blood was the glory of God, it was the love of God, it was the peace of God.

I pray today that you may know this peace made by the blood of the cross of Christ; that you delight in a reconciled life with your Creator; and that you stand beneath the fullness of God as it flows through the cross.

my tilt-a-whirl world

©hannah mclean 2-2-14

still teetering
like one who stepped off
a spinning, twirling, whirling thing
knocking the equilibrium
out of sync with
the ground on which the feet now stand

the eyes struggle to adjust
to the distorted view they now hold

the hands reach out for balance
only to find the seeming things left to grip
are but a deception
created by an illusion
of things the eyes picked up 
along the way

and then there are the feet
the cautious feet
that move from side to side
in a quest for stability
to hold back
the inevitable fall

look down!
reach down.
fall down...

there is but
One Thing that is stable
One Thing that is unchanging
One Thing that has not moved

not even in the moments
the mind has begged for it to
open up and swallow whole

not even in the darkness
when everything around was lost
for lack of light

there is but One Thing

still teetering
i look down
at the ground beneath my feet
a solid stone
unassuming in its solidity
demanding no recognition
simply upholding

still teetering
i reach down
and run my fingers along this wonder
that is too large to evade
the distance of
my stumbling, running, stammering feet
it has the feel of a face
weathered by the pains
i have endured
but with a strength
i have not possessed

still teetering
i fall down
and press my cheek against the soil
too soft to leave me injured in my decent
and yet
too hard to give way to the pressure
of my burdensome heart

and with my head upon this mysterious Rock
i realize that the teetering
i feel when upright
cannot command me
cannot define me
cannot determine where i will go
not as long as i rest upon
the ground on which
my feet have stood
my eyes have looked
my hand has felt
my knees have knelt
my head has laid

for though i may teeter
with uncertainty at life’s changes
though i may seek to balance
on what cannot stand firm
though i may stumble
in the dark and foggy places

i need only
look down
reach down
fall down

for there is One Thing that never fails
my Jesus

oh Great Rock on which
this house of dirt is built
oh Faithful One that never leaves
nor forsakes
You are broader than
the places my feet would seek to stand
You are fuller than
the things i would seek to fill my hands
You are more than
the whole of which my eyes could take in

You are Jesus
the One redeeming King

"...and Your gentleness made me great."

The other evening as I drove home in the darkness of a cold, still evening with my babies fast asleep in the seats behind me, I talked to the Lord. I was considering my year as it came to a close; a year where the slowness of my crawl from fear of growth and the seeming stagnancy of my spiritual life stood out in my mind as my greatest laments. I considered the things I had walked though and my inability to return to where I had been before various life events had crashed into me like waves that transform the shorelines they beat against. And as I thought about the realities of the weaknesses that made me hesitant to seek or feel change in my life, I realized, through tears, that while in the past my deepest growths had been accompanied by my deepest pains, this year my deepest growths had been accompanied by my deepest comforts. This verse entered my mind and has rolled through it ever since:

Psalm 18: 35 “You have given me the shield of Your salvation, and Your right had supported me, and Your gentleness made me great.”
 
If I have one thing to say about my life in the year 2013, it is that the Lord has been gentle with me. At every failing turn, in every bewildering bout of weakness, beside all of my lamenting sorrows, He has responded to, met with and upheld me in the gentlest of ways. When I shouted, He whispered; when I wept, He held me; when I floundered, He set pillars around me; when I was too tired to lift my head, He laid down beside me; when I faltered, He offered me another chance; when I was without words, He told me the truth; when I was afraid, He held my hand; when I was without the strength to lift my burdens, He lent me the backs of His people; and when I forgot Him, He remained beside me, above me, below me, before me, behind me, inside me...so that no matter where I turned to see His face it was there--shining, shielding, soothing, sufficient.

This was a year where life and growth were offered to me in unfamiliar ways, it was a year of learning to receive and accept when my hands were empty of anything to offer in return. It was a year not marked by new pains, but by the slow healing of old pains that linger. It may not have been a year of flourishing, of returning to the place of peace and strength where I had previously stood...but instead, it was a year of sustaining and of realizing that I am not meant to go back (even if the place I had to leave behind was peaceful and nourishing). Where I am going this new year, I don’t know. But this is what I do know: There are dimensions of the Lord--His mercy, His grace, His sufficiency, His power, His holiness, His justice, His love--that I will know at the end of it that I would never have glimpsed had I not trudged my way through this valley.

Because this is what I know to be true of the Lord:

Ezekiel 34:11–26
For thus says the Lord God: “Behold, I, I myself will search for My sheep and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so I will seek out My sheep, and I will rescue them from all the places where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness. And I will bring them OUT from the peoples and gather them IN to their own land. And I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, by the ravines, and in all the inhabited places of the country. I will feed them with good pasture, and on the mountain heights of Israel shall be their grazing land. There they shall lie down...I Myself will be the shepherd of My sheep, and I Myself will make them lie down,” declares the Lord God. “I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak...”
 
When the Lord brings His people from the places of clouds and darkness, He is always faithful to bring them to a place of provision, safety and rest, where He graciously tends to them in whatever condition He has found them; displaying His gentle sufficiency and mercy at He meets their every need.

The Lord has been gentle with me. Gentle in words, gentle in touch, gentle in mercy...where I have expected pain, again and again He has applied healing balm and a gentle word. And that changes a person for the better. I may not recognize the changes at this moment, but I feel myself change with every encounter I have with this gentle Lord of mine. While I do not know what is coming in 2014, I know who I am with...and that is enough to fuel hope for the remainder of my lifetime and the forever that follows.

"But not in Your kingdom, Lord."

Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.

Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.

There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
-----

I have always enjoyed this poem. When I first encountered it years ago, my heart resonated with its sorrowful lament and meticulously measured rhythm. I am sure you could agree that it is a beautifully written piece. One I hadn’t thought about in a very long time. But the other day, it rolled though my mind following an unexpected phone call.

The call was from a woman at my church who I had spoken to that morning; we had talked about how worn out I was, how I was struggling to regain my ability to function with very little sleep and we had commiserated about the cruelty of winter and its ability to cause long, drawn-out sickness. She had called to ask if she could bring me a meal so I wouldn’t have to worry about cooking for my family. That morning was the only time we had ever spoken (in my memory).

Then entered the poem above and it was accompanied by the articulation of a reality: ”But not in Your kingdom, Lord,” my heart said. The people of God and the Kingdom of God and the person of Jesus...they are different (or at least called to be different). God’s people are called to rejoice with the one who rejoices and to weep with the one who weeps (Romans 12:15); we are called to bear one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2); we follow Jesus, who ate with the outcasts (Matthew 9:10-13) and knelt in the dirt with the sick (The New Testament). We are called to hop onto the "trains of pain" that others ride as they intersect with our lives.

I was comforted as I marveled at the contrast between the “world” Ella Wheeler Wilcox speaks of and the reality of those who walk in the Light of Jesus. The response I have been given in the expression of my troubles has not been one of avoidance, but instead, people have sought to help me carry my load...be it through offers to take care of my babies, cook me meals, pray, free me up for the time to sleep, etc. No one has squirmed uncomfortably when I have burst into tears at awkward times in the conversations, they haven’t told me to buck up or made me feel weak because of my obvious weaknesses. They have graciously and compassionately endured my whining, hugged me and extended their support in whatever ways they could.

Instead of my sighs being “lost on the air,” they have been answered by the genuine care of loving people. And I am thankful. I am thankful that God’s way is different that the world’s way. I am thankful for the hands that have reached out to help me and the backs that have sought to share in carrying my burden.