“God only knows what i’d be without You…” -brian wilson

January 25, 2008

(written on December 8, 2006)
We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not detroyed. 

these are words of truth that i have to daily speak into my own life. hard pressed, persecuted, perplexed, struck down. these are not good things. these are painful things. we carry around the death of Jesus in our bodies so that His life may be revealed in our bodies. but death is not an easy thing to carry around. taking up our cross is in no way pleasant. now, being the good church going, Jesus loving woman, i should say that it is pleasant because we are attaining a higher goal, but everything in me screams that that’s not reality. the cross. the death of ourselves. these are things that bring with them tragic ends. the cross, in itself, represents nothing but death. we say that we are saved by His cross, by His death, and i fear that we stop there. the Truth, i would dare to suggest, is rather in His throne. He bore the cross. bore. past tense. He sits at the right hand of God the Father. sits. present tense. i fear that sometimes we lose ourselves in Christmas and in the idea of His coming, and the coming is what we worship. The coming is and was necessary, but not our current condition. and at Easter, i fear we lose ourselves in the idea of His dying, and the dying is what we worship. the dying is and was necessary, but again, not our current condition. our current condition is that we serve a God who IS on His throne. right now in life, that’s all i can cling to. i really do wish i could sit and revel in His birth, in His death… but it’s all i have to worship Him on His throne. remebering and celebrating the coming, the dying… i believe with all my heart that these things are beautiful and part of our hearts. as Christmas comes upon us, i want to praise Him for the baby in the manger and the love of the Father who gave His only Son so we might have life everlasting. but i don’t want to stay there. i want… i must cling to His throne and not His manger. His manger is a means to an end. His cross was a means to an end. His throne is the end. 

I need to be rescued. i am hard pressed, perplexed, persecuted, struck down. i am 100% hurting 100% of the time. i am more scared and hurt and tired than i have ever been. ever. but just as i don’t want to stop at the weakness of a child in a manger, i don’t want to stop at the weakness of my circumstances. i can’t focus on what i am… i must cling to what i am not. i am not crushed, i am not in despair, i am not abandoned, and i am not destroyed. i carry around death in my body always. but life is at work in me. i carry death. life is at work. death is something that i carry. an object. it is not at work in me. death is not active in my heart. life. life is at work. it is active. it changes me daily. i decide what to do with death. life decides what to do with me. not only am i 100% hurting 100% of the time. i am also 100% blown away and joyous 100% of the time. i am always in misery AND in delight. they are both a part of my heart. i carry death and yet life is at work within me. not one or the other… both. A.W. Tozer says that “the cross’s power departed when it was changed from a thing of death to a thing of beauty.” we need not fear the cross that we carry. it loses its power when it is turned from a thing of death into a thing of beauty. and no one and no thing has the power to do that but the power of the throne of Christ. not only do we serve a God who would and did die for us. we serve a God who raised Himself up again and rules on a throne. he didn’t leave us abandoned. just with a few questions.

Christ is my hope. My strength will rise as i wait on the Lord, as i stay still and let Him fight for me. I fix my eyes not on what is seen but what is unseen. i am lost in the love of the Father. i am the daughter of a God who will hold me every night and let me cry until i fall asleep in His arms. Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort. 

i’m well aware that none of this makes sense. this is not the writer in me. this is not proof read. this is my desperation. my gasping for air. my screaming in panic. my cry out in tragic pain. my declaration of Truth over my life. the Truth that calms that panic, that puts steady and deep breath in my lungs, the Comfort and Compassion that accompanies that pain. 

Praise God. He is so good. He continues to amaze and humor me. i love Him with all that i am and all that i have left. man! what a good God! You are my identity. You are all that i am or ever hope to be. Your throne is the source of my hope, my life, my beauty, my strength… my peace. give me rest… sleep… calm… quiet… peace.


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