I wasn't expecting to take a Blogging Break. I thought that a slowed down schedule was sufficient to bring me to a place of being able to hear the words of my Lord. But when He gave me the words for my last post several weeks ago, and told me to "Breathe," I heard Him say that I needed a break in order to find that place of restful breathing, where I could find His full Presence filling my lungs.
Have you heard Him call you to a deeper resting?
Have you heard Him call you to a deeper resting?
When I finally agreed to the break, I hoped that He would woo me with sweet nothings, and soothe my weary soul with lavish cups of fragrance and bliss.
Ah, well, our plans for ourselves usually don't quite mesh with those of our Dear Father.
Sometimes, the true comfort of God meets us with a word that at first feels harsh and jarring. Instead of finding an overload of sweet, I found additional pain, with moments of sweet only scattered around the edges. I found a deeper surrender, and a longer trial. And when the time to rejoin the blog-sphere returned, once again I hoped that He would lift the days of my trial.
But I knew in my heart that His Timing is not bound by my schedule.
As I prepared my thoughts for writing, I opened the page for my friend Gayl Wright's post last night, where she shared a beautiful song from Michael Card that had been part of the retreat she attended this past week. Click here to read her inspiring post.
May you be blessed as I was, with this song by Michael Card, one that he admits is his own personal favorite:
In the place of resting these past few weeks, these are the words the Lord spoke to my heart.
He brought
me to this desert place; I know it full well.
My genes may have conspired against me, as the autoimmune diseases reared
their ugly heads. My own body may be
enforcing the weakness and pain that goes with Rheumatoid Arthritis and
Fibromyalgia. But I am under the care of my Sovereign, and He has determined
the number of my days. So when I hear
Him say to me that the restlessness is not going to get me out from under this
test, my heart wants to utter its own cry.
My surrenders come with strings attached, and temporary praises for
small gifts only serve to breed discontentment under the surface.
I hear the
cries of the Israelites as they wandered in the desert, and I echo their
murmurings:
“In the desert the whole community grumbled against Moses
and Aaron. The
Israelites said to them, ‘If only we had died by the Lord’s hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the
food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this
entire assembly to death.’” Exodus 16:2-3
I am longing for change. My whole being rumbles with hunger pangs as I
feel myself starving for the nourishment I think I am missing. And, yet, I knew their stories, and I thought
I learned from their mistakes. I would
never test the Lord my God in the ways they did. Or would I?
When I let the weakness of my days direct my longings elsewhere, when I
let the pain in my body direct my gaze away from my true Helper, how am I any
different than they?
The desert of pain scorched
And burned . . .
The joints and the marrow
Screamed in response.
And my heart looked away
And burned . . .
The joints and the marrow
Screamed in response.
And my heart looked away
Longingly . . .
If only You had left me in the lands
Of my youth.
But instead You’ve brought me here
If only You had left me in the lands
Of my youth.
But instead You’ve brought me here
Broken, torn . . .
Where weakness leaves me
Famished.
And in the grumbling I hear
Where weakness leaves me
Famished.
And in the grumbling I hear
Shadowy lies . . .
Don’t settle here, don’t embrace
Gifts in this place.
For nothing good comes from
Don’t settle here, don’t embrace
Gifts in this place.
For nothing good comes from
The enemy’s camp . . .
He’s blinding my eyes to the Truth
That’s been given.
Only as I rest myself down
He’s blinding my eyes to the Truth
That’s been given.
Only as I rest myself down
Willingly . . .
Can I embrace the heat of the desert
My home for today.
The desert’s the place where I am
Can I embrace the heat of the desert
My home for today.
The desert’s the place where I am
Stripped bare . . .
Ready finally to eat what’s been
Lovingly prepared.
Manna from the hand of my
Ready finally to eat what’s been
Lovingly prepared.
Manna from the hand of my
Sovereign . . .
He intimately gives the bread of
suffering
To those He adores.
--BG
"Moses said, ‘This is what the Lord has commanded: ‘Take an omer of manna and keep it for the
generations to come, so they can see the bread I gave you to eat in the
wilderness when I brought you out of Egypt.’” Exodus 16:32
Maybe you have felt the sorrow also? Does comfort feel a long way off?
Our Father has a beauty that He wants to give us,
right here, in the very center of our desert places.
I am linking this week with:
