Tag Archives: God

i drank from a garden hose and it doesn’t matter

“One generation will commend Your works to another…”

I am part of the generation who grew up in the 60’s and 70’s. Free love that was never really free. An anti-war generation that rallied for peace while fighting an internal war by escaping down psychedelic rabbit holes.

There is so much that my generation can pass on, and we certainly do try, don’t we? We love talking about how simple life was back then. How different, how much better things were. But this morning I was struck by Psalm 145:4, and I realized that we spend far too much time commending memories that are evidently being remembered through rose colored glasses. Because frankly, many of us who grew up in that era were just messed up.

So here’s the deal. I don’t care if you know that I drank freely from the water hose, and played outside until the streetlights came on. It won’t help you to know that we slept in painted cribs, rode around without seat belts or airbags, or that kids failed entire grades in school because they deserved to fail. I don’t care if you ever know what life was like “back in my day”.

Here is what I want you to know…

God…relentlessly pursued my heart down every rabbit hole, every dark corridor, through every bad choice. He never gave up. He chased me until I was finally broken enough to stop running. Because I am not just a face in the crowd to Him. I am not just an unseen part of  “so loved the world”. And neither are you. You are not only loved, you are wanted by the Father who created you. He is the relentless pursuer of your running heart.

God…healed me on the inside. In the unseen places where I was incurably broken, He healed me. I was convinced I had little or no worth. He healed me. I was hurt and I was angry. He healed me. I had been used and discarded. He healed me. Because that’s who He is. Healer. He desires to heal the deep places in you, to convince your heart that you are worth much. Are you going here and there and everywhere trying to find what can put you back together? Are you convinced that nothing will be able to fix what is broken? I commend to you…God. You are not so broken that He cannot make you whole. It’s not too late, you haven’t gone too far, and there is no such thing as too damaged. For man, yes, but not for God. Not for your Healer.

God…gave me purpose. After years of wandering, looking for something I couldn’t define, I was left convinced that there was very little real purpose to my life. I would live and die and neither would have any impact on the earth. But as all of that began to fall away under the love of Jesus, it revealed the truth. I was created on purpose, with purpose, by my Father. My life matters, and so does yours. In knitting you together in your mother’s womb, He wove in the uniqueness that is you, the gift of you. You have giftings, talents that you may or may not be aware exist, but they are there on purpose. And the work of God, the advancement of His Kingdom, the release of captives, the healing of broken people, all of it needs you and your gifting. He has people for you to meet, places for you to go, things for you to do. You, and your life matter. You are you on purpose, with purpose.

God…gave me rest. Removing the shame and guilt that kept me running, He taught me what stillness looks like inside and out. He gave me rest from trying to earn love and worth, from Him or anyone else. Earning is a wearying business is it not? Two steps forward, nine steps back now start all over and there’s no such thing as a truly clean slate. We may have that “so what?” look on the outside, but we’re black and blue on the inside, damage done by our own fists of self-loathing and there aren’t enough Hail Marys to be said. But there is God, and His invitation is not “try harder”, but “come to Me and I will give you rest”. Rest from earning what cannot be earned, but is freely given by Him. He invites us to let our bruises heal, unclench our fists, stop doing penance for what only His blood can take away. And speaking of blood that doesn’t just wipe the slate clean, it destroys the slate all together…speaking of that blood…

God…saved me. I could comprehend that God is good, even loving. But the heart-shocking truth is that He is so good and so loving He sent the innocent to pay for my guilt, giving His Son over to death so that death could be conquered for me. So that the slate that held my record of sins would be forever destroyed, my filthy clothes would be forever removed, so that my forever would be forever changed. God pursued me straight to Golgotha, and there I discovered just how much I was worth to my Father. You are worth no less.

To the generation coming behind me, I commend to you the works of God. Powerful, majestic, fearsome. Kind, loving, merciful. Faithful and unfailing. Pursuer of hearts, Healer of broken, rest for weary. Savior.

I drank from a garden hose.

                        He loves you so much He died.

                Which is worth commending?

holy moments

I spent some time in worship the other night, alone in my living room with my (current) favorite worship songs, and the book of Revelation. Holy moments with God. Here is what it looked like as I wrote in my journal – 

“Majestic. Holy. Fire. With eyes that burn, You pull the cry of “Holy!” from everyone near You. All of heaven worships You. They see what I cannot, and their cry at what they see is “Holy!”. How can my cry of worship be anything other?”

Both during and after my time of worship, these words kept coming to me – “He is on His throne. Seated in the place of absolute sovereign power and authority.” And there are two sides to that coin.

God is the one enthroned in the place of power and authority. That means He determines beginnings and ends and in-betweens. Life and death are in His hands. Kings and rulers are lifted up and brought down by His hand. Times and seasons and all things uncontrollable…are controlled by Him, and Him alone. Like it or not, believe it or not, it is what it is. There is a God and He is on the absolute highest throne. There can be no coup. (It’s been tried. Didn’t end well.) It is His universe, created by Him, and for Him. There is none like Him. None before Him. He has always been, and will always be. He is surrounded by lightning and thunder, fire, and creatures not of this world, and all who are there are crying out “Holy, holy, holy”. Because He is God, and He is worthy of every holy moment of worship.

And yet…

He loved.
                     He came.
                                      He died.
So He could call me Beloved.

“What else is there to want? What more could I need? You are my God. All of my days I will live to seek Your face, to know Your heart. I want my whole life to cry out ‘Holy!'”

the mourners

stained

The word mourning is primarily used for the loss of a loved one through death. I have mourned the death of my mother, my grandfather, and my brother. I watched my dad mourn the loss of my mother, and the look of absolute lostness in his eyes was heartbreaking.

But as I type this, I think of the people I know who have suffered the loss of a child. It is an unspeakable pain that I have witnessed, but not truly felt. I spent 2 days in the hospital with dear friends of mine as they endured their daughter’s death of a heroin overdose. She was the age of my own daughter, and I cannot tell you the thoughts and emotions that were so raw in me as I walked with my friends through such a grievous time, ending with turning off the respirator. Their fear, turned to desperation, turned to resignation, and then turned to realization, was almost more than my mother’s heart could handle. I am convinced that nothing but the grace and mercy of God can touch that kind of pain.

The word comforted in the passage above means “to call to ones’ self, to call near”. The picture I get is of a Father calling His child to come to Him, drawing that child into His arms and giving the comfort of His nearness to counter the loss. I can’t help but wonder if the comfort of a God they cannot see or touch would be enough in the waves of such a devastating loss, if the comfort of anyone or anything would be enough. But my friends would testify that the nearness of God, even though felt only through the presence of His servants, is indeed a great comfort, even in that kind of loss. They would say that while they could not see or touch God during those days in the hospital, they saw and touched those He had sent to be near to them, and they were comforted.

In the midst of the losses I have suffered, both of loved ones, and the loss of love, trust and affection in relationship, my initial tendency was to withdraw and be alone with my wounds. But I learned that as I allowed myself to be drawn near to God, through worship, through His Word, and through the love of His Body, I found the comfort I desperately needed.

Blessed are those that mourn, for they will be comforted. It is His promise to us. On one hand, I would have preferred the promise that we would never mourn. But on the other hand, we would then never truly know the comfort of the nearness of God.

If you are experiencing mourning, I pray that the God of all comfort will call you near to Him, and that His nearness will be a balm for your wounded heart.