A Steadfast Lord

There are so many thoughts that whirl around my mind-some rational and some irrational (and some of my dearest of friends are quick to lovingly point out the irrational spiral I find myself in more often than I care to admit).

I have thoughts about the Lord’s sovereignty and His Faithfulness, His divine power and authority in my life.
Thoughts about grief and disappointment and how the Bible defines those feelings, how to experience those well, and allow tears to flow when they arrive and admit the pain.
Thoughts of fears that stamp out His Word-fears of being truly known and rejected, fears that I am not enough, fears of abandonment.
Thoughts about how Scripture covers those lies with Truth and I can choose what shows up at my table.
Thoughts about how hope is a firm anchor for the soul, even when the waves seem so big, so overwhelming.
Thoughts how I deserve nothing in my life but the Lord saw it fit to place people in my life who are a reflection of Him.
Thoughts of how to still love people well when my own capacity is shrinking quickly.
Thoughts of brokenness and the death of dreams but how the Lord is still good.

In these moments, I want to write.  I want so desperately get these thoughts on paper because I don’t want to forget the process of muddling through the confusion of knowing Truth and letting it transform my heart.  I don’t want to forget how it pushes me to His Word and the raw vulnerability I offer to Him through the tears of sorrow and tears of joy.  I don’t want to forget the vital parts of my story, the struggle and His rescue, the barren moments that He cultivates for the greater purpose.

Writing has never been difficult for me, always coming naturally.  It is how I make sense of the broken crazy, the messy emotions, the fallen world, His saving grace, His deep unconditional love.  I sit here desperate for the moments where words spill on pages as an overflow of a heart of worship of Who God is and not a just knowing confidence in His Word.  I am filled with such urgency to write, desiring desperately to control my words and I sit my computer with a blank document staring back at me.  The thoughts are gone, or are too many to sort through: disjointed and loosely tethered by a sacred echo in my heart.  

I go back to pencil to paper; that is where my greatest processing happens.  I literally see my thoughts being worked out, scratched through, and felt as lead hits the blank pages.  I write long and hard, it’s messy and unorganized but I understand it.

But even now, each sentence seems heavy, forced, and jumbled.  My desire to be authentic but not transparent is waging a war with my words.  It feels fake.

-Is it deceptive to write about standing on the truth of Scripture when I still find myself hiding doubts in my own heart?
-Is it deceitful to write about the Truths that have given me hope in the darkest seasons but sometimes confidence ebbs and flows because I wonder if it is too good to be true?
-Is it delusive to write that even in trusting the Lord, I question how much that trust is going to hurt, how much pain will it bring?  How much on this side of eternity am I going to have to give up to accomplish His greater good?

And of course as I write this, I know in my head that His promises are greater, His plan is sovereign; in my moments of barren faithlessness, I get tangled in the lies that He gave me the raw end of the deal. If I am entertaining that thought, I am making it my story, not HIs.  I am focusing on the temporal, not the eternal.  

In my human brokenness, I forget the Cross; I lose eternal perspective.  He is gracious to let me sit there and never abandoning me, until the sting of grief and surrender softens and my heart is ready.  My gaze focuses back upward and I find myself feeling the impact of standing on the Rock and not the sinking sand.  

The reality is, the Rock held me secure, I just forgot to feel the impact of it.  I went to the keyboard instead of working it out on paper first.  I wanted the finished product surrender and peace when I hadn’t worked through the process of opening my hands to let it go of what I was clutching so tightly onto.  I hadn’t worked through grief and tears as I surrender it for the final time. I saw what I had to give up instead of what there was to gain. I forget to stand on the foundation of Who God is. I let it enter my mind but failed to let it make it’s way to my heart. I forgot to understand that as my emotions change and my feelings fade, God is God and He is steadfast.  

Having faith is standing on the rock of His Word even when I can’t see the outcome; having faith it is placing all hope in Him.

Writing about Him will never be counterfeit because He is never counterfeit.  So I write with authenticity because God is authentic.  He does not change, He is steadfast.

He does not change with the wind.  He is steady in my seasons of doubt and in my seasons of confidence. The days I feel him, I am sure of His strength and power and  I feel His presence in all things.
The waves come, I desperately try to feel the Rock my feet are on and I may not at first. But I go back to foundations of Who the Rock is.  He is faithful, He has chosen me, He delights in me.  His way is perfect; He is good, and despite what I feel; He is there, holding me up, never faltering.

My thoughts and emotions are not dependant on when I feel the Lord, but they are dependant on knowing that the Lord and His character are never-changing.  He remains unchanged and I pray that I don’t.  I pray that my heart is changed, transformed, and marked by His grace, extending that grace to myself and others.  I pray that the when the waves are bigger than I thought possible, I feel the solid Rock I stand on and let that be my hope.  I pray to know Him more and make Him known because it is His story of rescue and grace.


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