“The love of God is simple and whole. How funny, that it’s we, the beloved, who make it so complicated. All of who God is, is for us–our good and his glory. Oh, God — you are beautiful, pure, rich, full.
Let me rest there.
Let live there.
Let me grow there.
You choose to dwell within us. With me. In your beauty you choose a broken vessel; battered bones, beaten and bruised. You say, “Mine! Yes. This is where I choose to to dwell. This is where I choose to shine forth my glory.”
As I was flipping through my journal recently, I stumbled upon the entry typed above and paused. What a gift it is to be presently encouraged by past thoughts. If you’re anything like me, then perhaps you find yourself frustrated when you fail to remember the Lord’s promises. When the truths of scripture seem so faint, when the unconditional love you know is yours feels dragon fly wing-thin…
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been–as my dear friend likes to call it–heart forward. I’m an ENFP, Ennegram 2, Words of Affirmation/Quality Time/Shepherd-Evangelist that feels all sorts of deeply. Labels and personality tests aside, I’m a daughter of the Most High King that forgets the standing she has before her Father almost daily. I’m a child that acts like a starving orphan sitting outside of the Palace. I’m not alone in this, right? We’ve all been there. Freshly bathed. Dressed in royal garb. Feasting. Elevated to the highest honor. Gifted with a hope and joy that’s eternally secure. And yet…selfishly questioning when the cardboard set is going to blow over; waiting for the director behind the camera to yell “cut!”; assuming that if you use the wrong fork at dinner everything that’s promised to you will be taken away.
Even if my circumstances dictate otherwise, if I don’t feel like Jesus loves me, then I can quickly shift into believing that he doesn’t. But oh “how fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes.” (Thanks for that lyric, Mumford & Sons.) The beauty of my fickle heart and woozy eyes is that they are not the determinant of my salvation, the security of my soul, or my worthiness of good gifts. My wildly running thoughts and humming bird heart beat don’t define who I am. Better yet, they don’t define who my God is.
Great is Thy faithfulness
O God my Father
There is no shadow of turning with Thee
Thou changest not
Thy compassions they fail not
As Thou hast been
Thou forever will be
Yes. Yes, and amen. Who God has been is who he forever will be. And who exactly has God been?
Kind (Romans 2:14)
Good (1 Chronicles 16:34)
Loving (Romans 5:8)
Faithful (Philippians :6)
Merciful (Ephesians 2:4)
Just (Revelation 15:3)
Holy (Leviticus 19:2)
Miraculous (Hebrews 2:4)
Powerful (Genesis 1)
So, I repent. I return to Jesus and ask for forgiveness. My faith is weak and He is strong. My heart is fooled and He is sure. My love is faint and he is faithful. He is faithful. He is faithful. He is faithful.
And that’s what I’m clinging to. I am clinging to what has been true before time began. I am clinging to what will be true long after my time has ended. I’m clinging to the good news that remains constant when my feelings don’t. I will let the Lord cherish my feelings as I throw and smear them all over the floor of the throne room. I will breathe deep and run to his feet and weep. And as he reminds me of who He is, and thus who I am, I will worship. I will praise. I will dance until my knees refuse to bend and sing until my lungs give out.
Oh, my God, I can’t believe that you choose to dwell with the mess that I am, but I’m so thankful that you’re molding me more into the beauty of who You are.