Who Are You, God?

A song by Addison Road

I've made You promises a thousand times
I've tried to hear from Heaven, but I talk the whole time
I think I've made You too small
I never feared You at all, no



If You touched my face, would I know You?
Looked into my eyes, could I behold You?

What do I know of You, who spoke me into motion
Where have I even stood but the shore along Your ocean



Are You fire, are You fury
Are You sacred, are You beautiful
What do I know....
What do I know of holy?

I guess I thought that I had figured You out
I knew all the stories, and I learned to talk about
How You were mighty to save
But those were only empty words on a page
Then I caught a glimpse of who You might be
The slightest hint of You brought my down to my knees




So what do I know of You, who spoke me into motion
Where have I even stood but the shore along Your ocean



Are You fire, are You fury
Are You sacred, are You beautiful
So what do I know...
What do I know of holy?

What do I know of holy
What do I know of wounds that will heal my shame



Of a God who gave life its name
What do I know of holy
Of the One who the angels praise
All creation knows Your name



On earth and heaven above
What do I know of this love?



....what do I know of holy?

Flap Your Wings

Have you ever heard of the butterfly effect? I read an inspirational book about it last week. A man named Edward Lorenz introduced this theory to describe how tiny variations can affect giant and complex systems, like weather patterns. He suggested that a butterfly flapping its wings on one side of the earth could trigger a chain of repercussions on wind strength and movements throughout the world's weather systems, and theoretically, could cause a tornado on the other side of the earth. What I found through my bit of research is that the butterfly effect remains a theory, but longterm accurate weather prediction is impossible because of millions of tiny variations that affect the outcome. The point of the book was to show how the butterfly effect applies to human lives and history. The story was told of a teacher named Joshua Chamberlain who became a Union colonel in the Civil War. His regiment was commanded to hold a certain hill during the battle of Gettysburg. After holding off the Rebels numerous times and taking significant losses, the Union soldiers saw the Confederates again returning to attack, this time with reinforcements. Chamberlain's men were virtually out of ammunition and had no one to come to their aid. The commanders of several nearby regiments had been killed. It seemed a hopeless situation. Chamberlain was faced with a decision. He had no previous military or tactical experience. All he had was a tenacious determination to suceed or die trying. He determined he would not die with a bullet in his back. There would be no retreat. This is what he said in that moment in the balance..."When I am faced with the choice of doing nothing or doing something, I will always choose to act." He then commanded his men to charge with their bayonets. The startled Confederate soldiers assumed they were being met by a reinforced army. No defeated army would charge. The Rebels panicked, many dropping their loaded weapons, turned, and ran. In a matter of moments the opposing commander had surrendered to Chamberlain. It was later determined that had Chamberlain failed to hold his position, Gettysburg would have fallen. And if Gettysburg had fallen, the consensus is that the North would have lost the war. In which case many believe that America today would be a land of divided territories, like Europe. Thus there would have been no nation big enough, wealthy enough, or strong enough to conquer both Hitler and Japan during World War 2. And the repercussions go on and on. Another illustration. Some years ago, a man was honored for saving billions of lives by creating a hybrid corn seed that flourishes in dry climates. However, this man's success attributes to one of Franklin Roosevelt's vice presidents, who commissioned him to find a solution to the food shortage. The vice president, in turn, (whose name i cannot recall), had been influenced as a young boy by George Washington Carver, who discovered hundreds of uses for the peanut and the sweet potato, among other accomplishments. Carver was able to make such contributions to our world because his life was saved by a farmer named Moses who lived in the South during the time of slavery but did not condone slavery. After marauders ransacked his farm, carrying off an African woman and her baby, Moses and his wife managed to made a deal with the robbers and recovered the baby boy. They gave him their name and raised him as their son. But you could go on and on. In the end, who truly can received the credit for saving all those lives? And that is only one example of a difference made to preserve life. Think of it! Your life has the same opportunity to affect great things, even out of seemingly insignificant choices. It's an incredible idea, isn't it? But it's true! Think of the very first followers of Christ and the way their commitment to Him turned the world upside down. Think of all the martyrs throughout history whose blood has been the seed that causes the church to grow and flourish. Think of those who painstakingly preserved the Scriptures, or those who faithfully labored to win souls among even the remotest people on earth. Think of the difference each life has made with their choices. Imagine how your life could affect the world generations after you are gone. Take the time to look at your opportunities in this light. Every day we are faced with situations where we must choose to do something or do nothing. Some we call major, most we see as inconsequential. But are they? Is there any such thing as action without consequence? Even inaction produces its own consequences. Lost opportunities. What ifs. Regrets. What would God do with a person who passionately believes that his or her everyday life makes a difference? Let's be like Joshua Chamberlain. Come what may, let us always choose to act.

One Who Knows

Now I am going to do something extraordinary and write two posts in one day! This is me trying to make up for lost time. We ought to be compelled to share what God is showing us, but to be honest, most of the time I keep it to myself. I have found, though, that when I share these treasures with someone else, it multiplies the positive charge in my own heart. God's Word has so much to say about telling God's wonderful works and publicly praising Who He is. That is our testimony: what we have seen and heard, what Christ has done for us. A blog can be a great way to spread His fame!

As I have been recently faced with my own utter depravity and so often swimming in that filth, unable to see past myself, God is gently and persistently opening my eyes. I've had days where I just went off by myself and cried, feeling overwhelmed by the belief that nobody really has a clue how much I'm hurting or could understand why if I tried to tell them. That is the most lonely feeling on earth: that no one knows or understands my pain. I recently came across this awesome poem by John Newton, the man who wrote Amazing Grace.

I asked the Lord that I might grow in faith, and love, and every grace
Might more of His salvation know and seek more earnestly His face
Twas He who taught me thus to pray and He, I trust, has answered prayer
but it has been in such a way as almost drove me to despair
I hoped that in some favored hour at once He'd answer my request
And by His love's constraining power subdue my sins and give me rest
Instead of this, He made me feel the hidden evils of my heart
And let the angry powers of hell assault my soul in every part
"Lord, why is this?" I trembling cried. "Wilt Thou pursue Thy worm to death?"
"Tis in this way", the Lord replied, "I answer prayer for grace and faith".

This helped me to know that my situation is not so unique; others have known this darkness; Newton certainly did. But do you know what God spoke to me? Someone greater than Newton has known my darkness. "Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed." Is. 53 I have known these lines by heart since I was a little girl. But they never hit me like they do now. What did I know of grief and sorrow as a child? I never imagined the pain within could be so great. I was blind to the depths of my own wickedness. I used to think I knew the answers and I had it made! But now, to hear those words about Jesus...He felt every agony and torment of my sin in its entirety, and He carried it willingly. He received the wounds so I could be healed. He entered the darkness of separation from the Father so I could know His love and joy forever. He became sin so that I could become the very righteousness of God! Oh, to forever hide myself in those wounds! They are my wholeness and my life. He knows. It was all for love. You and I do not walk this road alone.

How could I ever say thank you, when the whole of this life's not enough
Though I offer each breath back in worship, it never can match your great love!

How could I ever repay you; you laid aside heaven for me
You came to the earth its Creator, incarnate, to set sinners free

So great are your ways, such encompassing grace
Love that reaches beyond each defense
Your mercy disarms the most broken of hearts
Such complete and profound faithfulness

How could I thank You?

From the album I Belong by Katherine Scott

His Answer

Hi faithful readers, whoever you may be! I'm sorry I am such a bad blogger. :( Sometimes it is hard to see anything in my life worth writing about. The rest of the time I come up with ideas, but it is hard to take time out of life to think it out in proper form. But there is still life in blog-land! I have been on this blog for a year now! Amazing! It was started in order to share the story of how God worked out my trip to Rwanda and the experiences I had there. Mostly it has been a way to share a few of my deep thoughts and perceptions of life. Granted, there is plenty of great writing fodder I have passed up, but one can only do so much blog reading anyhow.

A while back I shared a poem written from the depths of personal darkness. I'd like to share another poem I wrote a few weeks later as God's answer to my soul cries. I'm still riding the roller coaster in my soul, but God is so amazing...He does this time and time again. He never abandons me to the mud in which I'm wallowing. He always shows me hope and He longs to bring me out of the mire and set my feet upon a rock. Oh, I am slow and mule-headed, but we are getting there!

"The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me. Lord, Your love is eternal! Do not abandon the work of Your hands." Ps. 138:8

Freedom

Freedom! Is the cry of the One who died for me
Fighting for my soul as He writhed in agony
He said, I'd rather die then live without you, my beauty
Freedom! Give me My beloved from the jaws of death
Break the chains that bind her helpless to the lie
Freedom! I will overcome! Such was His battle cry
Make straight the path to her heart
Let My light and love flood every corner
Nothing shall ever tear us apart
Freedom! My jewel is worth all costs
Vanquish every enemy that shall ever lay claim to her heart
I have paid the bride-price
She is Mine, all Mine
Freedom! See, my love, who you are!
Take my hand, dive deep
Remember my love
You are Mine and you are free
Let go; you can trust Me
Freedom! Is the echo that fills all eternity

Take a moment to imagine Him hanging on that cross between earth and heaven, time and eternity. It was for you He died. Realize what that means. Over 2,000 years before you existed, He knew your name, saw your face, and knew the story of your life from beginning to end. He knew you, saw you, and loved you as He hung there gasping. He felt every sin you would ever commit. And He negotiated the ransom for your freedom right there in that eternal moment. His cry for you is Freedom! And the power of that cry is holding on to your life right now. Take hold of Him.

Go To The Ant

I love it when God surprises me! He has so much to show us if we would just stop and look and listen. Here are some thoughts I was writing in my journal and the story of how God interrupted my melancholic musings.

God is not into small-minded ventures and small dreams. He is not into comfort. He is interested in my character, my growth, and my surrender. I cannot grow unless I make choices that are out of my league, accept tasks that are beyond my strength, leave safe harbor to sail for deep waters where I shall have no other rock on which to fall, but God. My life will never be marked by greatness if I only take on what I can handle.

A little ant has skittered onto my beach towel as I am writing out in the sun. The tiny creature drags a dead bug three times its size. The folds and humps in my towel become hills and valleys as the ant maneuvers its way across. Pulling its burden over each ridge with incredible strength, and often tumbling top over bottom down the other side, it forges ahead, undaunted. From my vantage point, his mini-sized world is comical. Yet when I try to envision myself in his "shoes", the road ahead looks terribly daunting and his task seems insurmountable. Running up the steep cliff that is my journal, and then up the even higher face of my Bible, he hurries on. His strength and resilience amaze me as he presses forward, going who knows where. Somewhere in the middle of my towel, the ant drops his load and scurries away. Disappointed, I ask him, Are you just going to leave it there? No, I decide that he is trying to regain his sense of direction and determine the most logical path out of this foreign pink desert and back to the grass. At last, he returns to retrieve his prize. This drop, search, return, pick up, drop, search, return continues for many long minutes. Fascinated by his struggle, I watch, how long I do not know. I am entranced by this miniature example Father has given me. At long last, my subject finds his way over a far edge of my towel and hits familiar ground. But if I thought his way seemed fraught with difficulties over towel terrain....how little I knew! Now my friend must maneuver his unwieldy burden through a veritable jungle of tangled blades, which reach up to ten, fifteen, twenty times his length in height! Everywhere, obstacles block his path and stop the advance of his cumbersome baggage. It becomes stuck between blades; the ant tugs from every angle, to no avail. Again he is forced to walk away, going where? To call reinforcements? To see if he might discover some path where he may pass through with less hindrance? Will he return? For the longest time I wait, keeping an eye on the marooned cargo, anxious to see if my little friend will continue in this task which is beyond his strength. Look! He returns! And then disappears again. Then again reappearing, if it is indeed he. Finally he manages to budge the load a bit more. Then again I lose sight of him. I haven't the time to wait for the end of the story. Where is my friend's home? How far has he traveled with this burden? How far does he have yet to go? Will he make it? Will he persevere, though it take him all day and all night? Only Father knows the answers. He is the one who gave the ant such strength, courage, and determination. He sees the big picture of my world and the path on which I walk far better than I can see that of the ant. He knows the task to which He has called me is beyond my strength and ability to accomplish. He alone knows what following Him will cost me; He alone can give me the grace to accomplish it, and He alone sees the end from the beginning. The question I must ask myself is this: Will I trust Him enough to give Him everything? To throw all that I am into loving God and following His Word just as that ant throws all he is into the means of bringing his prize all the way home?

As I lingered, I discovered that my ant friend had eventually managed to move his booty and had found a way to drag it with relative ease over the tops of the blades of grass. I watched him for some time longer, sometimes falling down into the jungle and later reappearing in the tops again. He was moving much faster now and eventually disappeared from my line of sight. I will never know if he reached his home successfully, but I have little doubt that he did or he died trying. I don't think God requires us to be successful or even to accomplish a vision. He will accomplish what He has ordained with or without us. All He desires is that you and I live and die for Him. "Go the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise." Proverbs 6:6 Oh Lord, for the wisdom of the ant, I beg You!

Desert Ravings

Then Jesus said to His disciples," If anyone wants to come with Me, he must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life because of Me will find it. What will it benefit a man if he gains the whole world yet loses his life? Or what will a man give in exchange for his life?" Matthew 16:24-26

For the last several years, I have found somewhat of a theme for each year according to what God is doing in my heart. Now I know it doesn't sound pretty, but I think this is the year of death. A year of reckoning between what I know and what I really believe. I have come to a place of seeing my own depravity like never before. The last couple years have been a downhill slide for me and I find myself in mortal combat for my soul. I realize I cannot count on what I believed as a young child, when I received Christ as my Saviour. I responded to what I understood then with the faith of a child. But now I am confronted with the question of following Jesus: what does it really mean? What does it require of me? And do I actually want to follow Him? Have I counted the cost? Is it one I am willing to pay? I'm not sure I ever understood that growing up. So now I find myself caught between two masters, faced with a choice: will I live to save what I think is "the life" for me, or will I give up everything to follow Christ and love Him? In my mind I know there is no other option for me: I know the truth; I know what's going down and I can't turn from Christ, so I must follow Him. But as I see more clearly that Jesus meant everything He said and He made it clear that He wants all or nothing, I must honestly face myself and confess that I am bitterly fighting giving all. I want desperately to know His love so deeply that in response i would love Him enough to go all the way. I do not know what other course there is. If you have ever been in the desert of your soul, maybe you will understand this honest pouring out of my heart before God. These are the kind of feelings we want to hide; we try so hard to convince ourselves and everyone else that we're okay. Well I'm tired of pretending. Not that I have a great following here, but sometimes it feels better just to make yourself vulnerable to someone. I wrote this a few weeks ago, in church, actually. Obviously I had too much weighing on my heart to pay attention. :)

Deeper

Desire is a deeper pit
than any man can know
Life grasped becomes life lost
Paradise allures
lingering ever out of reach
No darkness is so thick
as a soul torn assunder
Ravaged by its own lust
Truth always beckoning
but rebel pride fears death
Running, hiding, eyes closed
until the image fades
And hope sinks again
into oblivion
A soul in fear, lost its way
Sick stench of self
repulses, yet drives it on
What holy fire can purge it all away?
What stronger lure constrain
that soul to stay?
Does faith still live to claim
That He is deeper still?

Gardener's Nightmare

Upon waking this morning, I peered out my window into the pouring rain, searching for a glimpse of the trap placed at the edge of the yard, by the garden. Did I catch another varmint last night? My first night of groundhog trapping was a success, but perhaps the victim's brother is smarter. In vain I attempted to make out my object. I wonder if he's in there? I wonder how he's doing in this deluge, unable to take cover? I am known to take fits of anger over my poor violated "babies" in the garden, but I also have a soft spot for living creatures. I was happy to try a more humane method of extermination before begging a shotgun. My garden terrorists this year are young ones, and really kind of cute close up. So in the goodness of my heart I wonder if I should go out in the storm and carry the cage to a drier place. Ahhh, no. My bed wins out. Back to the pillow goes my head, snuggle in, listen to the rain lash the house....I'm back at the window. The rain has subsided. There is the trap, and he is in there! But what on earth? Who is this hulking creature on the other side of the prison wall? Oh no, its.... Mama Groundhog! Unbelievable... have you ever seen a bear-sized groundhog? Well, let me tell you, I have. And it's slightly intimidating! What should I do now? Her baby's in my trap and Mama's mad! She's looking for a way to spring the captive...I'd better get out there and... what? Okay, think about getting out of bed. I can do this. It feels like I'm fighting through thick mist, but I'm getting out of bed. I'm thinking about how I should dress; it's a wet mess out there. Take another peek out the window... there are two of them! Dad showed up, bigger than life! I'm starting to wonder if my mission is such a good idea. I need a plan. What if bear-size means bear-ferocious too? I've dealt with bears before, oh yes. In fact I was chased by one just the other night and successfully fended him off with not much more than my bare hands! But I need to find a baseball bat...or something. No harm in being prepared for resistance. These guys do have some pretty serious claws. Daddyhog is running around in the yard and I will likely have to meet him on my way out. So I slog through the mush of my brain and rummage around in the garage for the bat. What else can I arm myself with? I've seen battle scenes in movies where the hero fights with a sword in each hand...not a bad idea. I'm envisioning scenes of glory in my head right now. What about one of those wood stakes. Yeah, just let me think. Keep looking. Now I'm back at the window. I've got to hurry; time's wasting. What now? This looks like Revenge of the Garden Stalkers. They're stomping around in my garden, they're tearing it up with their claws... they're destroying it! I have to stop them, now! I can't seem to put feet to my thoughts. Rummage around some more, check out the crime scene again. But alas.... no signs of life in my backyard. Only a ripped trap, some other torn junk, and a desecrated garden. They're gone? All this work to psych myself up for attack and they're gone? Just like that? They've left me with nothing but destruction and I can't even get revenge? This is horrible! This is the worst thing that could ever happen to a gardener. Okay, somebody get me a gun....I'm still lying in bed. What is my problem? Oh, what tragedy! I should have gone out in the storm and brought the stupid thing back to the house before the Avengers showed up! Why didn't I listen to my instincts? Okay girl, come in to reality. Are you conscious yet? Wait a second...maybe it was all a dream? Long sigh....letting out all the tension...can you feel my extreme relief? Can you guess what's been on my mind lately?!!! By the way, groundhog number 1's brother.... he's smarter.