Sunday, November 21, 2021

The Tension and the Remembering

I see you on the hard days. I am acquainted firsthand with the struggle between faith and sight. I know the look in your eye when your reality does not line up with what you have been taught and what you have embraced and what you know to be true.

We live in a tension.

There is the promise, and there is the waiting. There is what we can see but also what we cannot. Our days are often a mixture of good news and hard news. You’ll learn this more and more.

But Abraham still stood before the Lord…

It was in between the good news and the hard news, in the tension of God’s faithfulness to His gracious promise and His just punishment of evil. The Lord came, not for the first or second or even third time, reminding Abraham that what He says, He will bring to pass – a son would be born, nations would be blessed. Basking in the comfort of that assurance, Abraham must have felt his heart drop when the Lord looked toward Sodom, when He said, “I will go down and see,” when the men turned and went toward the city. Abraham knew what they would find.

But Abraham still stood before the Lord…

Boldness and humility wrapped themselves up in his prayer to the Judge of all the earth. “Will You indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked? Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city…forty-five…forty…thirty…twenty…ten…” And the Judge of all the earth was not angry but full of compassion. “For the sake of ten I will not destroy it.” Abraham clung to the promise and hoped.

And Abraham went early in the morning to the place where he had stood before the Lord…

It was in between the good news and the hard news, in the tension of God’s faithfulness to His gracious promise and His just punishment of evil. Abraham had gone to bed knowing that within a year he would be a father to the child of promise, yet also knowing that the life of his nephew, whom he loved like a son, hung in the balance in a city full of wickedness. When he got to the place where he had stood before the Lord, interceding as one who knew he was but dust and ashes, and looked out over the valley, he saw the smoke rise and he knew. His prayers had not been answered. His intercession had not changed the outcome. The city was destroyed. The Lord had not found ten righteous in Sodom. All was lost.

So it was that, when God destroyed the cities of the valley, God remembered Abraham…

It was in between the hard news and the truth, the seen and the unseen. He saw the destruction but he didn’t yet know the relentless mercy that God demonstrated in Sodom. He saw the smoke but he didn’t yet know that his Lord had literally pulled Lot and his family out of the city despite their foolish lingering. He saw that the prayers he had spoken were unrequited, but he did not yet know that the Judge of all the earth had heard the unspoken cry of his heart and had moved to answer by rescuing his nephew. He thought Lot was dead, but he wasn’t.

We live in a tension, but one day we will see not through a glass dimly but face to face, and know not in part but in full. You will live through days when your heart is filled with rejoicing in one instant and dread the next. It is a hard thing to walk by faith, but it is the only way. Trust in His promise because He is faithful. Know that He is always at work, even when you can’t see. Boldly approach His throne because He is full of compassion. Intercede knowing that He hears the cry of your heart. And when smoke fills the horizon, remember that He is good, and that He remembers you.

Sunday, October 25, 2020

Lord of the Seasons

 

You stood in the kitchen this morning, dissident, questioning the whole system as you have been doing since the day nearly a decade ago that I told you to pick up your shoes and put them in the bucket. You picked them up, leveled your 14 month old gaze on me, and promptly threw them back on the floor. You’ve come a long way since that notorious hour and a half long Battle of the Shoes, and your relentlessly questioning nature has gained an edge of wisdom but it is still there. And I kind of hope it will always be.
So I flipped the grilled cheese sandwiches and thought about how hard it is to be between a child and a teenager, and how much maturity it takes to yield when you don’t want to. I thought about how a toddler needs kind and gentle authoritarianism but an almost eleven year old needs hope that will feed obedience past the days when a mom’s voice isn’t the loudest anymore. I thought about how I figured I would have the mom thing down by now but I still don’t have a clue what I’m doing.
“I know this isn’t what you want. I know it doesn’t seem fair. But it’s the season that you are in. This season won’t last forever. But if God really is good, and He really is wise, and He really is in control, then there must be something good that He wants you to learn right now. Maybe you could ask Him to show you what that is…”
Now you are at tennis practice and I am wondering why these words flow out of me when you are standing in the kitchen with exasperation on your face but they leave me when I am alone with my own thoughts.
I know this isn’t what you want.
I have spent the past half of my life coming to terms with the fact that life doesn’t cater to my wishes and dreams. I moved to New Orleans to pursue a calling and left in a hurricane. I entered the classroom as a teacher to change the world and left in tears. I married to become one and found out that it’s not automatic. I lost some friends too young, watched others leave a narrow path for a destructive one. I began to understand that my perfectionism will never satisfy. Thirty-one years I have been walking with the Lord and what frustrates me the most is how far I am from being like Christ.
But it’s the season that you are in, and it won’t last forever.
Ah, there’s the part that flies from my mind. To everything there is a season, and I don’t get to define the length or determine the conditions. Does God say, “He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it until the day of Christ”? Does He say, “Faithful is He who called you; He also will bring it to pass”? Does He say, “All things work together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose”? Why don’t I believe it? Cling to it through all the days when my sight is not catching up to faith? Like Abraham I get too impatient waiting for the promise.
But after so many vain attempts to change the seasons myself, to ignore them, to become bitter in the midst of them, or to crawl under a rock and hide from them, I wish I could constantly remember that it’s not the seasons but my perspective that needs to change the most.
If God really is good…
I lift up my eyes to the mountains; where does my help come from?
And He really is wise…
My help comes from the Lord, Maker of heaven and earth.
And He really is in control…
He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber.
Then there must be something good that He wants you to learn right now.
I want you to know that God is for you; that He is Lord of all the seasons that we experience, and that we can’t define happiness apart from humble submission to Him. I want you to know the joy of trusting in His promises and walking in obedience. Of doing justice and loving mercy and walking humbly with our God. Of abiding in Him and He in you.
I want me to know it too.