Anything

(I wrote this to one of my sisters from a different mister and I felt like it needed to be posted here too)

I was thinking deeper with this quote last night and had just a few thoughts floating around as a result.

"I will do anything not to die here. I want to live and not die." 

(Jen Wilkin in the Women's Bible Study at my church)

The word "live" here has so many meanings to me beyond the obvious. To live equals not dying. And I don't think of just a physical death (though it's not excluded from that meaning here) but also, I think of it as the death of dreams-to-be-fulfilled; death of who I really am inside that is hidden behind depression, self-hate, insecurity and hopelessness; death of what I could be but choose not to be by not fighting sin; death of real joy, even happiness on some levels; death of the experience of real, honest-to-goodness freedom; death of a deer-panting-for-water type of relationship with Jesus. So, therefore, since "to live" means that these things (and I) don't have to die, then "to live" means it won't be my hand that causes my body to wither away; I am free to be me because I don't bow to fear, insecurity, depression anymore; I can actually dream (!!) instead of killing my dreams when I am crippled by my sin and am hopeless; my self-imposed, closed doors to my future potential are now open; I can finally experience more than fleeting happiness but abiding joy (it's a real thing that I didn't think existed for a long time); and best of all, I get to have a relationship with Jesus that isn't a yoke but a delight.

All of this because first, I have said "I will do anything not to die here." Jen called it a "ruthless determination" to fight sin. It makes me think of a popular sermon jam with Piper. Holy smokes, it's powerful.

The quote is also indicative of how I've had to force myself to think about the sin I find myself in with the biggest, longest living idols in my life. It sticks with me because I prayed (and still do) a lot that God wouldn't turn me over to my sin, i.e. what I desired more than Him. I told Him that I needed Him to be my rescue, literally pulling me away from my sin and my selfish tendencies with whatever means was necessary. He's been faithful in this time and time again; my lust for these things still rages on and I still fail a lot but the heart-positioning that is the foundation of this quote is what I have to pursue over and over - every single day. It doesn't come natural but it's possible if I'll just ask for it every single day. I don't want to live to be a slave, I want to live to be free. Free.

Blocked, Then Accepted

This is some good stuff, friends. I pulled this straight from the Desiring God blog. 

God’s Love: Blocked, Then Accepted 

April 3, 2011 - by John Piper

 

George Herbert was born on this day in 1593. He described his poems as echoes of the conflict between God and his own soul. Yes, but there is also resolution. He had been subdued by love.

Here we see the love of God blocked, and then accepted. I pray that love will triumph for you in this way.

        LOVE (III)
        by George Herbert

Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,
        Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
        From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
        If I lack'd anything.

"A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";
        Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, the ungrateful? ah my dear,
        I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
        "Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame
        Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
        "My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
        So I did sit and eat.

Pain

UPDATE: I found a post from Justin Taylor that I think fits in so perfectly with my random stream of thoughts in this post. Check it out here.

So many people are in pain right now - be it physical, mental, emotional. Friends, parents, co-workers, relatives.

The desperation can sink in ever so slowly. Sometimes, though, it comes quickly like a torrent of early spring rain. It's different for each person.

Even this week I've seen it play it differently for both those I hold near and love dearly, and those I know from a distance (and love dearly as well).

Mostly we are taught to fear pain, to avoid it at all cost. The advice is: stay away from those whose mouthy barbs hurt; don't allow anyone close enough to know your deepest, darkest secrets; avoid the homeless or hitch-hikers because they just want to scam you or hurt you. (These are only what comes to mind now, at 5pm on a Friday; please excuse the randomness).

What happens when we turn this notion on its head and embrace pain instead?

Think about it. Imagine what it truly means to not despair because of cancer; or financial loss; or harsh criticism; or an imperfect body; or the countless other pains today. Try to feel the weight of your emotions and thoughts when pain strikes.

We say, "Oh, I know that I would not despair. The Lord is my hope/I am too strong for it/I don't think that situation warrants it." Or, in all honesty, we run away afraid, hurt, betrayed, angry, thinking we are full of much more wisdom than the One who orchestrates the situation that causes pain. "I deserve to despair; just give that much to me." is the anthem when the despair is all one feels in control of.

Do you believe He is in control?

Do you believe He is good?

Do you believe that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate [you] from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord?

No?

Repent. Now.

Turn to the One who holds all of creation in His hands, who catches all your desperate tears. He hears your cries of prayers, even when they sound more like groanings than words. He understands your anger, because He too watched as injustices took place against both others and Himself. He felt pain as you have, tasting betrayal stronger than most today will ever experience. He begged that the cup of suffering pass Him in His darkest hour. His body was pierced, torn, beaten, broken with pain so intense that He poured blood.

Turn to He who says, "Come all you who are weary, and I will give you rest."

The victim mentality ("why me?") will only lead you further into despair. Don't allow your heart and mind and soul to go there.

For a little over two years now, I've followed the story of a woman who lost her full-term baby days before her due date. A part of my heart hurts thinking about what it means to lose a child. I cannot and will not pretend to understand that loss, however.

She now writes about grief and the process on her blog. Here's an excerpt of her talking about the grief:

I feel like I’ve fought it tooth and nail. But now I’m coming to more of a peace with it. I’m accepting it more. One of my dear friends through this process (who is older and wiser than me, thank God) shared with me recently about a grief she’d been facing in her life. Something she said really stood out to me. She told me, “I’m gonna drink this painful cup all the way down, just drain it. And I’m gonna ask the Lord to make it something beautiful.”

It's confusing to think of grief and pain this way. It doesn't come naturally but rather is a grace given by God. My hope is that you will drink your painful cup and ask the Lord to make it something beautiful.

You can't avoid pain. But you can choose to use it to make much of the Lord and to inspire others to do the same.

Lord, make it something beautiful.

"And if I bleat, and bolt? Still with me."

Jenni posted something great today about our metaphorical valleys. Here's an excerpt:

"The valley is arrived at in an instant. An illness. An accident. Bad news dropping–no matter how gently–from the lips of a doctor, falling like a blanket of ash upon your soul. The valley is entered. The volcano has blown. There is no water, no sustenance, no warmth. We cannot see the way out. We can only stumble along, trusting in the grip of the One who never lacks sight.

Check out the rest of the post here.

P.S. Did I ever tell you that Jenni's the reason why I read (and started my own) blogs today? Hmmmm. Guess I should have mentioned that before!

Aspiring...

...to be spoken of this way.

"They say there is a young lady in [New Haven] who is beloved of that great Being who made and rules the world, and that there are certain seasons in which this great Being, in some way or other invisible, comes to her and fills her mind with exceeding sweet delight, and that she hardly cares for anything, except to meditate on him—that she expects after a while to be received up where he is, to be raised up out of the world and caught up into heaven; being assured that he loves her too well to let her remain at a distance from him always. There she is to dwell with him, and to be ravished with his love and delight forever…. She has a strange sweetness in her mind, and singular purity in her affections; is most just and conscientious in all her conduct; and you could not persuade her to do anything wrong or sinful, if you would give her all the world, lest she should offend this great Being. She is of a wonderful sweetness, calmness and universal benevolence of mind; especially after this great God has manifested himself to her mind…She loves to be alone, walking in the fields and groves, and seems to have someone invisible always conversing with her."

Jonathan Edwards, speaking of his future wife in 1723

Wordle *drool*

Oh goodness. I think I have found a new favorite website. For someone who REALLY enjoys words, I could spend a lot of time on this website. I don't think I can convey how deeply words affect me on a daily basis. All I can say is that I am grateful for the love of words that was knitted into my being :-)

Enjoy the wordles below of my very favorite psalm and the passage from Romans that changed my life.

Peace & chicken grease,
Ang

Bumping bruises

"We might want to say — maybe even scream — "Don't touch me there!" But sometimes right there is the very place we need to be healed. When somebody rubs up against a sensitive spot, they help us to realize that we still have work to do, that we have imagined that we are further along than we actually are. We hold onto so many illusions about ourselves. Pain can sometimes help us to awaken to the reality that we must let those illusions go."

Jenny Schroedel, To Forgive Is To Surrender, BOUNDLESS Webzine, article published in June 2007.

Eustace = Me

Though I have yet to read The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, #5 in the Chronicles of Narnia, I have heard things about it from other bloggers and writers. The first person to enlighten my curiousity was the Executive Pastor at my church; Josh said that Dawn Treader is his favorite of the series. The second person to spark my enthusiasm for this book was Jenny Schroedel. She is an occasional writer for Boundless, a webzine for college kids and twenty-somethings. Check out the article she wrote about "becoming undragoned." Here is my favorite excerpt from the book:

Then the lion said — but I don't know if it spoke — "You will have to let me undress you." I was afraid of his claws, but I can tell you, I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.... That very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I'd ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off.

Check it out if you get a chance

I've heard it preached and read it countless times, but never have I heard anyone convey the depth of Psalm 51 like John Piper did this last Sunday at his church. Please check it out when you get a chance.

I also wanted to include an excerpt that Mr. Piper uses at the end; it's from Religious Affections by Johnathan Edwards:

All gracious affections [feelings, emotions] that are a sweet [aroma] to Christ . . . are brokenhearted affections. A truly Christian love, either to God or men, is a humble brokenhearted love. The desires of the saints, however earnest, are humble desires: their hope is a humble hope; and their joy, even when it is unspeakable, and full of glory, is a humble brokenhearted joy. . . .

I've spent a lot of time, though not nearly as much or as devoted as I'd like, in prayer to God, pleading for understanding or a change in my spirit. Whatever it will take to be right with Him, though my flesh would appreciate the easiest way possible. It's been a rough few months. I am guilty of attempting to control my sin and my life and allow Him to touch only certain parts. If you're like me, though, you eventually realize that this can't go on forever and you lose control. It's not a good thing when you feel out of control if that's your vice. Needless to say, I believe lies that God cannot use the darkness or the brokenness of my life for His good (though He clearly says He will). Since I don't understand how He can use it, I then think He must not be able to do so which is ludicrous. Anyway, this sermon from Piper moved me. He called me out in this lie and my empathy towards my sin.

I hope you'll check it out. Don't give up half-way though. It's a Sunday sermon, so it's long but well worth it.

Peace.

Today's devotion - well timed, Lord....

Job 10:2 - I will say to God, Do not condemn me; let me know why you contend against me.

"Perhaps, weary soul, the Lord is doing this to develop your graces. There are some of your graces that would never be discovered if it were not for your trials. Do you not know that your faith never looks as good in summer as it does in winter? Love is too often like a glowworm, showing but little light unless it is surrounded by darkness. Hope itself is like a star-not to be seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only to be discovered in the night of adversity. Afflictions are often the black foils in which God sets the jewels of His children's graces, to make them shine brighter. It was only a little while ago that on your knees you were saying, "Lord, I fear I have no faith. Let me know that I have faith." Were you not really, though perhaps unconsciously, praying for trials? For how can you know that you have faith until your faith is exercised? Depend upon it-God often sends us trials so that our graces may be discovered and that we may be convinced of their existence. Besides, it is not merely discovery; real growth in grace is the result of sanctified trials. God often takes away our comforts and our privileges in order to make us better Christians. He trains His soldiers not in tents of ease and luxury, but by turning them out and subjecting them to forced marches and hard service. He makes them ford through streams, and swim through rivers, and climb mountains, and walk many long miles with heavy backpacks of sorrow. Well, Christian, may this not account for the troubles through which you are passing? Is the Lord bringing out your graces and making them grow? Is it for this reason He contends with you?"

"Trials make the promise sweet;

Trials give new life to prayer;

Trials bring me to His feet,

Lay my low, and keep me there."

Wow. I cannot express how deeply my heart resonates with EVERY BIT of this devotion....

Dear Wormwood

Just a little background before inserting the quota from Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis, I'll preface it by explaining a few things:

1. This is a quote from a letter written by Uncle Screwtape to his nephew, Wormwood. They are workers of evil in this book.
2. "The Enemy" or "He" is God.
3. This particular letter is about how best to tempt humans so that they are won for the "Father Below".

"He cannot 'tempt' to virtue like we do to vice. He wants them to learn to walk and must therefore take away His hand; and if only the will to walk is really there, He is pleased even with stumbles. Do not be deceived, Wormwood. Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy's will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys."

I L-O-V-E allegory!!

Down in the Lowlands*

The water is up to my neck
I am sinking in the deep
There is no foothold anymore
I'm very worn out from calling for help
My throat is hoarse and dry as a bone
My eyes have failed me from looking for you
Are you looking for me?

I'm down in the lowlands where the water is deep
Hear my cry, hear my shout, save me, save me

Could this be it, could I be drowing?
Have I failed to be heard by the One
Who can save me now?
My eyes have failed me from looking for you
Are you lookin for me?

Cause I'm down in the lowlands where the water is deep
Hear my cry, hear my shout, save me, save me.

*originally written/performed by Charlie Peacock