A note at the end to stick at the beginning: In cleaning out my
email, trying to "get my house in order" before it's overtaken
by a tiny baby girl, I found this rambling meditation on some sweet truth I’d
come across, hastily typed and sent to myself back in October. Posting it now here for posterity, as this blog is serving as something of a scrapbook, and because it's still true.
From The Valley of Vision [A Puritan Prayer]
Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly,
Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision,
where I live in the depths but see Thee in the heights;
hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold Thy glory.
Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up,
that to be low is to be high,
that the broken heart is the healed heart,
that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit,
that the repenting soul is the victorious soul,
that to have nothing is to possess all,
that to bear the cross is to wear the crown,
that to give is to receive,
that the valley is the place of vision.
Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells,
and the deeper the wells the brighter Thy stars shine;
let me find Thy light in my darkness,
Thy life in my death,
Thy joy in my sorrow,
Thy grace in my sin,
Thy riches in my poverty,
Thy glory in my valley.
Luke 9:23-25
"And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let
him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would
save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save
it. For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or
forfeits himself?"
Meditating on Luke 9:23-25. Again. And Matthew 16:25 similarly
... "Whoever loses his life for my sake will find it."
The Lord's priorities for/ use of/ taking over of/ working in my
life.
This verse is stuck to the front of my refrigerator. Because I
need (and cherish) this daily reminder of what's at hand. What my life is all about.
Especially when it seems all about cutting grapes and mashing
sweet potatoes and mopping the kitchen floor and planning dinner and washing
clothes, matching little socks and trying to help a little boy learn to not
stick his fingers in the oven door.
But this passage isn’t about giving up my life to these things
and somehow "finding it" in the contents of the tupperware cabinet
spread among the letter blocks.
It's about giving up my life to Him and finding it IN HIM.
Not "denying myself" in giving up more glorious
ambitions and desires for mundane ones, but giving up ambitions and desires far
to small/weak, in order to be swept up in His glory, the glory of knowing Him,
my Lord Jesus. This, THIS, is the point and the joy of it all.
Philippians 3:7-8 says, "But whatever gain I had I counted as loss for
the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the
surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord."
These words of God are calls to discipleship and deep joy from a
God of paradoxes. They are calls to surrender my autonomy to him, to identify
with him, even to death. As Jim Eliot
said, "He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain what he
cannot lose."
Of course, I live in a part of the world where identification
with Christ isn't likely to cost me my life, or imprisonment, or my home, or my
husband's job, or my son's right to school. (Maybe just to be thought a little
less of if I seem to "take this stuff a little to seriously," or mocked or disliked as a narrow-minded fundamentalist or extremist or
zealot.)
To follow Jesus is to love and serve and to lay down one's life.
I'm ashamed at how bad I am at these things, though I want them... But He is
patient and ever-forgiving and overflowing with grace to cover my failings
because in death my Jesus bore ALL the punishment for my sins, my failures, my
weaknesses, my comfort-loving and self-seeking. His mercies overwhelm my needs
and are "new every morning," as the Psalm says, and his death and resurrection
give me power to persevere and boldness to approach the throne of grace and
receive help in my weakness (Hebrews 4).
So I live in FREEDOM and can joyfully daily love and serve in
the calling He has given me for this season. Hard and sweet and glorious in its
own way. A season of less adult conversation and plaudits; and more crying out
my Lord for his strength, his wisdom, his love because I lack them. A season of
following my Lord Jesus by staying instead of going, sitting on the floor instead
of running after my own ambitions, a season of “dying to myself” and yet
bursting with life. And of watching with wonder as a little boy is formed
before my eyes. Learning again the magic of leaves and grass and wind and the
xylophone, and the beautiful smile and diving hug of a rambunctious blond boy.
I recently read this on the blog of a sweet mom of 2 young boys in
Northern India:
I am learning about faithfulness in the mundane
(But I am actually learning that He is a God of paradoxes...
And often when we walk by faith, we see that the mundane is
actually the Glory)
Amen.
