Reflections from the desert

    I started this blog post several months ago, but it was so raw, so vulnerable, a little too real, that I just struggled in posting it. This has been a struggle for about 7 months, but this past week God has given me a new outlook on my struggle. Here is what I wrote before:

 I’ve always been fascinated when the moon is not a full moon, you only see a sliver of reflection, but the rest of the moon is still visible. Recently while I was out walking Tom in the morning, I was gazing at this type of moon when the thought occurred to me that this is how I have been feeling for a few months. As a believer and follower of Jesus, I should be fully reflecting Jesus’ light to the world, but I have been feeling so drained for so many months, I am barely reflecting any of Jesus’ light. I am still here, still teaching in the Christian school, you can see me, you can hear the words that I say, but my actual reflection has just been in part. I know that this happens in the Christian life, we don’t always live fully surrendered to Jesus, we don’t always live fully satisfied in him, but it is hard to go so long feeling so drained. 

    As I search my heart for where I have sin holding me back, I am blinded by my sin. I have asked Jesus to take the sin, I have asked Jesus to help me surrender, to help me be satisfied with him alone, and yet I still am struggling. He doesn’t always lift our struggles from us, but when those struggles are discouragement, it is so hard to not have it lifted. I recently heard a sermon about bringing Jesus the little that you have for his glory, and after that sermon, I just sat and cried because I just don’t feel like I have anything to bring-nothing small, nothing left. My soul is completely depleted. But I believe in the I Am. I believe in the Living Water, the Bread of Life, so why, O Soul, are you so unsatisfied? 

    I had such a beautiful and healing vacation this summer, I left feeling so much joy and hope, and from there I just crashed. My joy and hope have been snatched away. Oh Jesus, please restore the joy of your salvation to my soul. I have not given up though, I continue to seek him, I continue to lay my heart before him, asking him for healing, asking him to show me where I need to seek forgiveness. What I need to confess. I know that, like the moon, I will fully reflect his light again, I just worry that I have stopped reflecting altogether. 

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart, my portion forever….But as for me, God’s presence is my good. I have made the Lord God my refuge, so I can tell about all you do.” Psalms 73:26, 28

Fifteen years ago, I was studying the book of Isaiah with a friend and came across these verses in chapter 41: "I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys. I will turn the desert into pools of water, and the parched ground into springs. I will put in the desert the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive. I will set pines in the wasteland, the fir and the cypress together so that people may see and know, may consider and understand that the hand of the LORD has done this, that the Holy One of Israel has created it" (vs. 18-20). Even back then I was struggling in my marriage, and so claimed that promise for my marriage. I wrote the date in my Bible so that one day I could look back and say, "See what God has done?!" Rather than springs in the desert of my marriage, I now am divorced. God didn't answer my prayer to redeem my marriage, instead He led me out of a relationship that was not healthy.

Much like these verses, a few chapters later, in chapter 43, this promise is more widely known. God, speaking through Isaiah, says, "See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland" (vs. 19). 

A few years ago, I went to Cabo. Cabo itself has beautiful ocean scenes, it's the picture you think of when people go on vacation to Mexico. But before you get to Cabo, you have to fly further inland, and drive through the desert. As I was on the shuttle from the airport, I was grumpy about the desert. I live in the desert, I did not want to vacation there. But God convicted me because he made the desert too, and his creation is beautiful. So I began looking for beauty as we drove. It wasn't easy for me, but it was there. Even in the desert, you can see God's hand of provision, gifts that he gives.

Last week Isaiah 43:19 came up 4 different times for me. The first was on social media, and my bitter thought was, "Well, I guess I shouldn't have claimed that promise, it obviously was not meant for me." The next time was in a podcast, and I just remember laughing to myself because I had just seen it the day before. The third time, I was in a friend's car and she has that verse on a sticker in her car. I thought, "Weird, that verse keeps popping up this week!" but didn't stop to think about how, when God tells us something three times, it's something we should stop and listen to. The fourth time, was in the middle of a worship song, at the end of a long day, sitting in a conference. I didn't know the song before Friday night, but there, in the lyrics, it says one little line, "And all my deserts are rivers of joy." I had been listening to the lyrics, trying to figure out the tune when that one line hit, and with that line I just heard the Spirit telling me, "Korene, that promise is for you. Maybe not in the way you had it worked out at the time, but that promise is for you, right here, right now in the wilderness you find yourself in." 

Friends, all of the discouragement, all of the hard feelings I have been fighting for months were broken in that one moment. My heart was finally ready to stop and listen. This has been a hard season of my life. Not my hardest season, but I'm having to figure out how to go through hard seasons alone, and that is so much harder than I realized it would be back when I was not alone. I'm not saying that I will not be battling discouragement, that all of the hard things in my life are magically gone, but God showed me that even in this very hard time, He is still the same, His promises do not change, and even in this hard time, He gives me good and beautiful gifts. Gifts like conversations and time with my children. First graders saying sweet and hilarious things to me. Friendships in the midst of difficulty. My family's love and support. His presence, wherever I am. His faithful love, always loving unfaithful me. 

Right before God tells us in Isaiah to look for the new things he is doing, he says, "Forget the former things. Do not dwell on the past" (43:18). So, I am looking around in this desert where I find myself, seeing the beauty where God has placed me. Because really, around all those cacti in my life, there is life. Right now. Not later once I finish this, or do that, but right now. God does not define me by my marital status, or degrees that do or do not have. He does not define me by how good I am, or more accurately, how much I fail. He delights in me, and he delights in blessing me daily. He makes a way in the wilderness, he won't leave me trapped here. He makes rivers in the wasteland of my life. Right here, right now. Turns out, even right now, God is still good, He is so good to me.

The Gap

Once upon a time there was a magical era called the ‘80’s. One of the best things that came to us in the ‘80’s were Cabbage Patch Dolls (I was young in the ‘80’s; what can I say?). When I was older than I probably should have been, I decided I really wanted a boy Cabbage Patch Doll for Christmas, and I dropped so many obvious hints, my mother eventually became annoyed. Maybe she had picked up on my first hint, or maybe she had a better gift for me that she then had to return because I was so insistent. I ended up feeling guilty and remember wondering what she had been planning on getting instead. I did get that boy Cabbage Patch Doll, in fact I still have it, but my mom is a great gift giver…I wonder why I didn’t just trust whatever it was she would have gotten for me? I bet it was a LEGO set….

Often times I use prayer as my way of dropping hints to God about what I want, or how I want my life to go. I even have the audacity to think I know better than the Creator of the Universe does on how he should allow different things to happen in my life. Lately, I have been reflecting a lot on prayer, and what exactly it is that I believe about it. You see, I have seen childlike-faith prayers answered word for word, and I have seen the longing and pleading of my heart seemingly ignored (please note the word seemingly there. I do not believe even a little bit that God ignores our pleas). I have tried to have the perfect formula for prayer; I have tried to align my heart and prayers with biblical teachings, but to no avail, or so it would seem. What really baffles me though, is when what I am praying for really does line up with the Word of God, but the opposite ends up happening. Yes, I know I live in a fallen world, I know sin rules in this world, but my God IS stronger, he already has the victory, so why does it so often feel like He doesn’t care enough to give me what I’ve asked for? 

Wow. Re-read that last question. When I stop and listen to the questions I am asking, sometimes it’s really easy to spot the confusion Satan wants to bring. And it is amazing how easy and quickly it can be for him to bring me confusion. It starts with me trying to align my heart to God’s…but then that didn’t get me what I wanted, and so I start to question God’s love for me?!

I would love to be a great prayer warrior (I know, I just need to get praying), and so I have read several books on prayer, I have studied different prayers the Bible shows us; I have taken notes on many sermons and lessons on prayer and have tried to apply it to my life. I think possibly the best definition I have heard on prayer was from Trever Hudson, author, minister and a friend of one of my pastors. During Covid lockdown our church did several zoom conferences; one with Trever Hudson talking about prayer. Somewhere I have written down word for word his definition, but the general idea of it is that Prayer isn’t giving God any new information. He already knows all the ins and outs of it. Instead, prayer invites God into the circumstance with us, it opens our heart to what God might do in us through that circumstance. That definition blew me away, and it has shaped my thinking and practice in prayer ever since. And it really helps my faith stand firm when what I am praying for doesn’t go the way I want it to. 

So often I see people give up on prayer when God doesn’t seem to answer any prayer requests that they have. I’ll admit, I have had times in my life where it really felt like it didn’t matter if I prayed or not; after all, if God is eternal, all that has already been set, so what difference could my silly little prayer have? Isn’t it funny though, when we stop to think about it, that we really give God a deadline and that we like to grade how he answers our prayers? “Hmm…well, I didn’t get everything I wanted, must not have answered.” Or, “whelp, times up and you obviously didn’t give me an answer [because it wasn’t the answer I wanted], so you must not actually answer prayers.”  Okay, so we don’t actually have this thought process, but if we stop and evaluate our response to God…we kind of do. I also think it’s really easy for us to have prayer requests answered, but not actually give God credit for those answers.

I have also noticed that though I still believe in God, I still believe that he is Sovereign and that nothing is impossible for him, when it comes to applying those beliefs to certain circumstances, our faith and trust can run a little short. “Yes, I believe you can provide that for me, Jesus, but here is how much faith I have; it isn’t quite enough.” I was recently praying this prayer and visualizing my faith as a bridge. My bridge did not quite extend the full length of what I was facing, but as I sat there, God called to mind what Lysa TerKeurst has taught me to pray about forgiveness; “I forgive ____ for ____, and what my feelings won’t yet allow, the blood of Jesus will surely cover.” I sat there in my quiet time realizing that Jesus would honor the faith I have, and where my faith was lacking, I could pray, “the blood of Jesus will surely cover.” It’s not dependent on me.

As I was reflecting on this, I was thinking about Mary and Martha after Lazarus died. They had faith that Jesus could have healed Lazarus before death, but that was where their faith ended. They couldn’t imagine anything more. They told him right where their faith ended. But Jesus covered that for them. He wept with them, knowing what he could do. And then he grew their faith by calling Lazarus out. He bridged the gap. 

I have been a believer most of my life, but I still have these great “Aha!” moments at times. My faith (given to my by God), doesn’t have to be giant. It doesn’t have to cover the full expanse. God wants my heart to tell him right where I am, so that when he shows up and grows my faith further, I can stand in proper awe of what he has again done in my life. And when I am not seeing answers to prayer, I can trust that he is working in ways I cannot see. I can continue to talk to him, to invite him into the situation with me, surrender my heart to him and allow him to work in my heart to do things I could never have imagined. And I can hold tightly to my Immutable God, knowing he is always good. He is always faithful. He is always with me. Thank you, Lord, for being bigger than my tiny brain can fathom, thank you for your thoughts and ways that are much better than mine. Thank you that I can trust you to do so much more than I could possibly imagine. Help me to trust you just as much in the times I don’t see answers to my prayers as I do when you answer word for word.

Fighting the “Good-Girl” Complex

   

  Growing up I attended Christian camps and conferences almost every year. One year at camp, my counselor called those of us raised in Christian homes “Wombies” because, according to her, we came out preaching the gospel! 😆 I loved camp, and the conferences (meant for youth) made me feel very grown up. These experiences played a huge role in my developing faith at the time. But one year at a conference, I remember listening to testimony after testimony of these amazing “come to Jesus” moments that people were having and feeling like being a “wombie” wasn’t that great of a thing. I didn’t have some super cool story to tell of how Jesus found me and rescued me from my sin or great trauma. As I have grown, I do see what a huge blessing my story has been, but at the time I didn’t see my own “come to Jesus” moment as miraculous as these. 

    I was never really very rebellious. The biggest trouble I got in during high school was staying late to help clean up the youth group New Year’s Eve party and then dropping off a few friends afterwards (Mom and Dad, I get why I was in trouble now-so sorry for the anxiety I gave you that night!). That isn’t to say I was perfect, I got spankings when I was little, told when I was in middle school I was never too old for them (and I believed my dad when he said that!), but for the most part, I didn’t get into a lot of trouble.    

   And this is where that “Good-Girl” complex comes to play. Because yes, on one hand I can feel like I don’t have a cool story, but on the other hand, I can struggle to feel superior because I’m so “good.” It’s really easy to look at people with obvious sins and look down on them for that. Maybe I’m not consciously thinking, “I’m so much better than that,” but maybe I am thinking, “I would never do that,” or, “I can’t believe they do___!” And somehow that pride slips in and I forget that ALL sin separates us from God, and that God does not have a scale on which he measures sin. This judgment that I have towards this other sinner separates me from God just as much as their sin separates them from God. Yes, different sins have different consequences here on earth, but all sin separates us from God. That’s why we all need a “come to Jesus” moment, but we need to not stop at that moment. We need to continue to come to him in confession and humility seeking his help to walk away from sin.  Jesus died once for all our sins, but I need to come to Jesus more than once in confession of my sins. 

    I love how the Bible gives us pictures in which we can relate. In college, I was so struck by the example of our relationship with God being like a marriage relationship. We can picture this. We all at least know people who are married. The Old Testament uses this to show that when Israel is practicing idolatry, it is like a spouse having an affair. Walking away from the covenant between husband and wife. It’s easy for me to think, “this isn’t me! I follow Jesus!” 

    My own “come to Jesus moment” (when my faith became my own), happened at camp when the theme was about idolatry. I realized during that week of camp how many “idols” I had built around myself, how many things took my attention off of God. Though I went home and “took down” those idols, it is still something that causes me to struggle. That pride I was talking about earlier. That can be an idol. Or is it that I’m making an idol of myself? I might look like I’m good, I might not be blatantly sinning, but my struggle is with those inner thoughts, and I do have consequences that hurt others around me as well. I am very much a sinner in need of redemption, and I need to not forget that. 

    Several years ago, as I was studying the books of Exodus through Deuteronomy, God gave me the grace to connect these two thoughts and I realized I was the unfaithful spouse in this relationship between God and myself. I was struck by the pain I had caused, and that picture was very vivid to me. Never did I think I would be unfaithful; it’s easy to see yourself above some sins, and yet I realized that my unfaithfulness is a daily struggle for me. That pain that Jesus suffered on the cross was because of my unfaithfulness to my ever faithful husband, God. It’s easy to say, “yes I sin” and think “little sins,” it’s much harder to look at all of my sins as unfaithfulness to God, a breaking of covenant. As I studied all of these laws laid out in these books, I was overcome with awe at how many sacrifices Jesus covered, and how much work and striving he took away in order to make our covenant relationship eternal; possible. 

    When I worked as a victim advocate, court days were my favorite. I loved to watch the drama unfold, to see people be convicted of crimes and for justice to be delivered (at least, that was always what was hoped for). But as I sat in court one day, I was overcome with the picture of God as judge, and me the defendant. To know full well that I was guilty of anything being brought against me, but knowing that I wasn’t going to be given the punishment that I actually deserved. My good-girl complex being broken down even more. It changed my perspective a little on the defendants that I saw come in and out of the courtroom, and I began praying for them. That God would use this time to turn their hearts around, that he would put someone in their path to give them hope. Of course, there were always the defendants of the victims that I worked with and knew greater details of why they were there, that were a little harder to pray for, but those were just more opportunities for me to grow. To understand that God loves even these abusers (though let me point out he hates the evil that they do). 

    The question we need to ask ourselves here, is what do we do when we find ourselves in God’s courtroom? Do we barely hear what the Judge says to us, hoping for whatever plea deal to be given so we can get out and continue doing what we were doing before? Or do we listen to what the Judge says, the warnings that he gives? Do we pay attention to the One taking on the punishment we deserve and actually change our ways?     

    As one who can be quick to judge other’s actions, these lessons have been extremely important for me. I have come to learn that I really don’t know people’s stories, and I need to stop sitting in the courtroom of life judging other’s actions. I need to be able to honestly evaluate my own thoughts and actions, to listen to the judge. To see myself as the unfaithful one, and to plead with the One who has redeemed me to change my heart. Change my mind. Help me to be a reflection of him. To allow him to fight off the good-girl complex my mind likes to make up, and to recognize that without him, I am just as lost and hopeless as any I might want to judge.

An honest prayer of pain

 Jesus,

Sometimes I just don’t understand the pain that you allow. 

That pain that tears a heart in half. When you can feel your heart bleed. 

When it hurts to take a breath. When it hurts so much you forget to breathe. 

When your hopes and dreams are ripped from your hand. When it feels that there cannot possibly be any hope for the future. When you don’t want that hope for the future without whatever was lost.

In these moments, it’s hard to believe that you have anymore good for our lives. Darkness becomes so dark.

In the midst of these valleys, God, remind me of who I know you to be. I don’t have the strength to hold on; don’t let me go. Because on top of everything else that has been lost, I cannot lose you too. 

Jesus, I don’t understand why, but I want to trust you.  

Sometimes you give us this pain; sometimes you put people in our lives who are walking through this pain. This is also a hard place to be. You wish you could take away the pain until it’s yours. 

There are so many hurting. My heart aches for them, Lord. Thank you for seeing them. Thank you for grieving with them. Thank you for not being surprised, and for knowing why you allowed this. Put your hand of comfort on those who are hurting. The path of pain is so hard to travel. 

                                                                                                                                    Amen

Living an Abundant Life in the midst of Grief

    I have never been one to sleep in. Mornings are my favorite; when the world is quiet and full of promises of new mercies for the new day. Most mornings are just me, Jesus and my coffee. It’s peaceful and I don’t want it to end. I learned this morning routine from my mother. I have memories from childhood of coming up the stairs in early mornings to Mom sitting on the couch, cup of coffee in her hand, Bible on her lap. I love visiting my parents in the summer because we join our morning times together, but on her porch, soaking in the newness of the day. Just writing about it makes me excited to go visit this summer.

    Recently in my morning quiet time, I came across John 10:10. Jesus says, “A thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I have come so that they may have life, and have it in abundance.” What I was studying was the difference between what Satan tries to do in our life verses what Jesus does. But I just paused on that second half of the verse and wondered, “What does abundant life look like in the midst of grief?”  I started journaling about it, completely sidetracked from the actual Bible Study I was doing. Satan has stolen, killed and destroyed some of the things in my life, but Jesus came to give me abundant life. Am I living it? 

   

    If you continue on to the next group of verses, Jesus begins talking about being the Good Shepherd, taking care of his sheep, willingly laying down his life for his sheep. He knows his sheep, his sheep know his voice. This made me think back to Psalms 23. In Psalms 23 we learn that God gives us ALL that we need, he leads us to green pastures and leads us beside quiet waters. He renews us, he leads us, he is with us no matter what we go through. Every amazing celebration and in the quietness and depth of every single hurt. We may face discipline, but it is for our good and done in his love. He has had victory over our enemy, whatever battle we face, he fights for us and he has already won. He chooses us, he anoints us. His goodness and faithful love are with us wherever we go. For our whole lives. We get to dwell with him all our days. Which all sounds like an abundant life to me.

    Which leads me back to my question, “What does abundant life look like in the midst of grief?” (Please keep in mind, I am no professional, these are just a few thoughts that have come from my own personal experience and study.)

    To start with, I always find it helpful to look up the definition of a word to help me more fully grasp what the word means. Abundance is, “ an extremely plentiful or over sufficient quantity or supply; overflowing fullness; affluence; wealth.” Looking at this briefly, then, I’m going to say that to have life in abundance means that we are so full with life, it flows out of us. Which then calls to mind Jesus as the living water. Jesus, our living water overflowing out of us. Joy, hope and peace overflowing out of us. Not something we earn or achieve, but something given to us. Romans 15:13 says, “Now may the God of hope fill you with all peace as you believe so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” If this is not something we are trying to achieve on our own, then we are back to being those sheep, allowing him to bring us to the quiet waters, the green pastures of our souls. Allowing him to bring healing and guidance. 

    When I bring my grief and brokenness to the feet of Jesus and surrender them to him to expertly craft back together as only he can, though I may not feel an over sufficient quantity of life in that moment, I can trust that my brokenness is being used to renew me. I need to be willing to be completely honest with him, and willing to do the work of healing. I need to be willing to continue to serve him, to obey him, to wait for him and his timing.

    I think another big piece of this is what we see at the end of the 23rd Psalm-dwell. When we dwell with him, we become a “permanent resident” in his presence. Recently my pastor did a series on John 15 and abiding in Jesus. This is that same kind of idea; we draw our strength and life and all that we need for an abundant life from him. He sustains us, he keeps us healthy, he helps us produce fruit. Sometimes that includes pruning, but pruning is an important part of health and growth for a plant. One thing that my pastor said during this series that was so meaningful to me was, “The Gardner is never closer to the rose bush than when he is pruning.” What a beautiful picture. During those seasons that are so difficult, so painful, our Gardner is kneeling down right there with us, finding exactly what branches need to be cut off for the plant to be strengthened and to be more productive.

    Along the same lines as dwelling and abiding is something we see throughout the Bible: waiting on the Lord. Several months ago I found myself often waiting to be in the next chapter of my life, waiting to be healed, waiting, waiting, waiting. As I was in the Word one morning and just talking to God, he gently asked me on what the Bible tells us to wait. This is something I have been watching out for quite a bit since, and I will tell you, not once in 4 months have I seen the Bible telling us to wait for healing or the next chapter. We are told to wait on the Lord, to wait on his strength. I have found this idea in so many books of the Bible, it will probably be its own blog one day, but for now I will try to quickly add it here because I think that waiting on the Lord is part of an abundant life, especially during times of grief. We don’t like to be uncomfortable, to have wounds; we do just want healing. But God can make those times of healing so sweet and draw us so close to his heart when we fix our eyes on him and wait for him. For his timing, for his plan. If you’ve read any of my other posts you know I’m a control freak and so this releasing and waiting is difficult for me. However, my moments of deepest faith and sweetest times with Jesus tend to be in the midst of really hard circumstances. 

    Abundant life might look a little different when we are in a season of grief, we might not feel like we have a wealth of life, but I do believe that the pruning and healing process is a part of an abundant life. And yes, sometimes our grief comes when we find ourselves in the middle of someone else’s consequences, but I have found that our own brokenness tends to be apart of that pain. We are far from perfect and live in a broken world, so we need these things to flourish.  When we cling to Jesus, the Holy Spirit fills us and overflows out of us, producing that abundant life. A plant does not keep the abundance for itself though. I think part of this abundant life is allowing the overflow to also nourish others. To encourage them. Even in our own difficult circumstances, when we are dwelling with and abiding in Jesus, we are given an overflow that can be shared with others. We can share what we are learning, even sharing our struggles can encourage others who have their own struggles.

    

    And the cool thing about all of this is that when you are consistently bringing him your hurt and trusting him with all of that, he is faithful to renew. You start having days that even feel like an abundant life. Yes there is hope for your future, but also hope for today. Jesus came to “heal the broken-hearted…to comfort all who mourn…to give beauty for ashes…and splendid clothes instead of despair.” (Is 61:1-3) As I face different “firsts” this year, they don’t all have to be hard and grief filled. Recently, as I was getting ready to face another first, I was talking with some wise friends who encouraged me to change my mindset. Rather than expecting grief, pray for joy, pray for days to be reclaimed and find ways to mark those days for Jesus. So I did. And on this particular first I was able to reclaim a day with joy.  Grief is one of those things that could make tomorrow feel much different, but it is so relieving to have days where you do have an overflowing fullness of life. 

    If you are in a season of grief, I urge you to bring that to the Lord. Press into him to sustain you. Wait on the Lord and allow him to do what he wants to do in and through you. He is trustworthy, even on the hardest of days. The life that he pours into you will be well worth the waiting and pain. 

“I am certain that I will see the LORD’s goodness in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart be courageous. Wait for the LORD.” Psalm 27:13, 14

After God’s Own Heart

 I'm finding myself wanting to write, but not sure what to write. I want to be able to process what I am feeling, but I also want to be relevant.  I am sitting in the silence of my home, I should be cleaning my kitchen, my refrigerator. 

On my computer screen I have a picture of a Montana road that I use to walk frequently. I love this picture because the sun is shining brightly behind some white wispy clouds approaching the mountains at the back left of the picture. The fields are covered with a small dusting of snow, and there is a road that stretches out as far as you can see. You can't tell exactly where the road is going, but you can see a small church in the background, and I imagine if you didn't know, you could picture that the road is heading into the little town towards that church. I loved walking this road. Often cows would be in the fields and they would possibly be the only other living thing I would see while walking. That kind of silence was peaceful. Welcomed. Weird how silence based on your circumstance can be either soothing or deafening. 

I have not been the best version of “me” lately. It’s weird because when it became evident last summer that my marriage was at an end, I was strong, I took care of myself-eating what I should, exercising, getting the rest that I needed. But after the divorce was finalized, that all fell apart. While we were going through the finalization process, I felt confident and knew I was on the right road, afterwards the grief of the death of hopes and dreams became a reality. I’m trying to have grace with myself for what I am going through, but also, I want to be past this. 

I’m currently doing a 5 week study on seeing Jesus in the Old Testament. This morning I looked into the life of David. David is a Bible character with whom I have unresolved issues. I know that is very unChristian of me, and I also know that every other Bible character that we see this much of also has a whole lot of faults, but David is the one on whom I’m hardest. I get how amazing of a warrior he was, how much he trusted God, he was one whom God looked at and said, "now that's a heart of a man I would choose to be king." He was "a man after God's own heart." So how is it that he could so deeply hurt those closest to him? How could he so deeply hurt Uriah, and Bathsheba? And how could he so deeply hurt his people? How could a man after God's own heart be a part of such a betrayal? 

Typing out those questions makes me ask myself, ‘am I expecting there to be the proper kind of sin for a king after God's own heart?’ Yes, I guess I am. I guess my expectations for a man whom God describes with such an honor are for him to be a little less human. To be a little more "perfect." A little more stable. If a man with that kind of prestige can make such a "big" mistake with consequences that affect not only himself, but also those around him, who can we trust? 

*sigh* And all of a sudden, there is my hypocrisy laid out for me. It is so easy to look at other people's sins and judge them for it, isn't it? I am again reminded of my own unfaithfulness to the Lord when I look down on other people, when I try to take control of my own life, or when I am careless with my words and hurt others. I am not always trustworthy myself. If I am repeatedly unfaithful to God, why is it that I am so quick to look down on a man God himself called, “a man after God’s own heart”? 

I was struck this morning as I was studying this phrase about David. I began wondering, what kind of “after” does it mean? After as in, I have freckles like my Gram did because I take after her, or after like chasing after. Now, I’m sure if you know the Hebrew, there is a very certain definition, but I actually really like both of those meanings. How cool to have a heart like God’s heart because it was passed down to you, but also, shouldn’t we all be chasing after God’s heart? And if David was chasing after God’s heart, but, like I often do, slipped and fell, shouldn’t I have a little bit of empathy and grace for him? I know I am filled with flaws, but I would love if God’s words describing me were, “a woman after God’s own heart.” If David could still be described this way, even after, maybe there is hope for me to also get such a label. Maybe, rather than focusing on the part of David’s story where he makes mistakes, I should focus on God’s response to him in the midst of his fall and after his repentance. And maybe I should be so grateful that David’s adultery and murder didn’t disqualify him from that, because I too can have that chance. I can be especially grateful because my Redeemer guaranteed I would not be disqualified from that. What an amazing time in Biblical history for us to live! We can know how God sees us when we believe in his Son. We can know we are forgiven by Jesus’ blood and that he has not given up on us yet. He makes us a new creation when we believe in him, he sees us as wearing Jesus’ robes of righteousness. 

Wrestling with Surrender

    Have you ever experienced that you have known something to be true, but then realize your heart doesn't actually believe it? Your brain knows, but your heart really doesn't. It's a weird tension within. I have had to wrestle with this tension about a few things in recent years. I want to believe that my heart is fully on board with the things God is doing in my life, but sometimes I recognize that I have been allowing and helping the enemy write a different story. I had another one of those realizations yesterday.

    I had read something in the morning about surrendering our plans to God and when I proceeded to once again lay my plans at his feet, I noticed deep grief in my heart. Over the last couple of years I have learned to listen to those feelings and evaluate where they are coming from. So as I drove to Winco yesterday morning for my weekly trip to the grocery store, I asked God, "Why do I always feel grief when I am turning over the desires of my heart to you?" It was in the parking lot of Winco that he revealed that my brain knows God works for my good, my brain knows that every good and perfect gift is from God, but because God has allowed so many difficult situations in my life, my heart isn't believing that. 

    Now, I know God has greatly blessed my life with my children, my job, my family and friends. But some of the deep desires of my heart have not only been unanswered, it can sometimes feel like I've gotten the opposite. I also know in my heart that all the difficult circumstances that I have been through are a blessing, and I actually wouldn't trade them for easier ones. God has used those circumstances to draw me closer to his heart. He has given me deep joy and peace. I know I can trust God, but my heart is... maybe... a little stubborn and scared. 

    I have written about this before. Needing to let go of my perceived control. It's scary though. God does allow difficult circumstances in our life to grow us (I'm starting to look like a hobbit drinking Ent water), to bring him glory. I can't stop that, but can I trust him to have my best interest at heart? Can I trust him to know the best plans for me? The obvious answers are yes, but will I trust him, really and truly trust him? He knows the plans he has for me, my job is to call to him, to go to him in prayer. My job is to seek him with all of my heart. He promises I will find him when I do, and really, that is my heart's desire. I easily get caught up in other desires, but above all else, I do want to be in his presence. In his will. Basking in his love. Even if that means a lifetime of hardship. Phew! That's terrifying to write.

    I was listening recently to The Bible Project podcast. In this particular episode they were discussing the kingdom of God, starting in the Old Testament. Tim Mackie said this of the Israelites wanting a human king, "As opposed to saying, 'We want to be more faithful to the God of Israel and live under his reign, so a king would help us do that,' they say, 'No, we want to be like Egypt and Babylon; we want a king who will have absolute power.'" It got me thinking, how often do I try and press what I want before God's timing? Or, how often do I want things so that they can help me be more faithful to God? If I'm being completely honest, I can't say that's a thought I've often had about the desires of my heart. But I think it doesn't take much for me to get there. To lay those desires down and to say, "Lord, I feel like this would help me be more faithful to you," but with that I also need to add, "not my will, but yours be done." I can't let those desires of my heart be so important to me that if I don't get them, it sends me into deep grief. Then they are taking too great of a place in my heart; they are idols and something of which I need to repent. 

    Jesus, for all of those things that I desire and have somehow allowed to become more important to me than you and your will in my life, I ask for forgiveness and lay those things at your feet. I do trust you to give me good gifts, to have good things planned for me. Help my unbelief. Take my broken ideas of what is good, and help me see the great blessings you have poured into my life. I know I only see a small glimpse of what you are doing, help me to keep this in mind, to remember that you hold the completed project in your hand. Thank you for not letting the difficult circumstances that you have allowed into my life to be wasted, but have instead used them to grow me closer to you. Keep my heart soft towards you, seeking you every step of this life. Thank you that you are the One who will keep working in me until I am complete.