Joy

My friend Allyson recently shared this quote from C.S. Lewis - "God cannot give us happiness apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing."

This quote struck me because I often find myself wishing for happiness or attempting to stir the emotion within myself. I place myself on the beach, my favorite place on earth, and wait for happiness to descend on me. When it doesn't, I start to despair. I even pray to God for additional things that I believe will make me happy. I tell him what I don't like about my situation. When I am unhappy, God and I are in constant conversation.

And then, I read this verse: "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." - 1 Thess. 5:16-18

Bam. Conviction. Even though, in the midst of the unhappiness, I feel like I am praying without ceasing, I am not rejoicing. And, of all the many prayers I pray, I do not pray for joy. I expect happiness to rain down upon me, and then I will run off and be free of this constant dependence on God. What a fool I am! This is God the Father that I approach with all my complaints. He reigns over every person, every family, and every situation. This is the God who promises "strength through His Spirit in your inner being" (Eph 3:16) and the God who allows us to "know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God" (Eph 3:19). This is the God who is "able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think" (Eph. 3:20). And still, I do not pray for the one thing I desperately need, one of the things God explicitly wills for me, the one thing that would allow me to be a light to those around me - that is, joy.

This morning, I ask for it, above all my other wishes. I do not seek happiness apart from the Father. I never want to be free of my need for Him or free of the trials that throw me into His arms.

I do have much to be thankful for and many blessings in my life, but even if all of these were stripped away, I could still have joy. I would have the Lord.

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me." Psalm 23:4

Protection

"Protection" is a sensitive topic. We all long, whether secretly or openly, for protection. We desire protection from physical harm, from heartache, from financial strain, from verbal abuse, and the list goes on. Unfortunately, so often we are not protected. People take advantage of us. People purposefully wound us. There are no jobs available, and our bank accounts are running low. The news channels remind us of how many evil people there are running around, willing and wanting to do us harm. People we need to love us are absent, physically or emotionally.

For me, often when I don't feel protected, I help myself feel better by saying that I don't need to be protected. If I am alone and don't feel safe, I tell myself I am perfectly capable of defending myself. I don't need the protection of a stronger presence beside me.

If emotionally I don't feel protected, I tell myself that I am strong enough to withstand any jabs at my heart or anyone toying with my heart. I tell myself I have a strong stomach and won't get sick from the constant ups and downs and twists and turns of the roller coaster of emotions.

If financially I don't have my safety net of a padded savings, I tell myself that I will somehow pay the bills. No emergency will pop up unannounced and demand all of my non-existent money.

To admit that I desire protection in the absence of it is too humbling for my prideful nature. There are moments when I simply cannot protect myself. I can brace myself for the blow. I can give myself these speeches about everything being okay, but they are really just a cover up for the need I feel.

Recently, I have felt my own vulnerability in a few different areas - emotionally, physically, and financially. I literally can only do so much to protect myself, and the rest of myself that is left vulnerable is reliant on someone else for protection. That someone else can be a person or it can be the Lord. I think I have learned over the years to rely on the Lord, but relying on another person is SO hard for me. I have found myself in tears because I have had to rely on the grace and consideration of another person. And, really, honestly, I don't rely on the Lord with absolute dependence. I would rather come to Him with no fear, with all my ducks in a row, with no need for His help. When I feel myself crying out to Him for protection, it wounds my pride.

That's a good thing. My pride needs to take a blow. The house built on the sand of my own strength and confidence needs to crumble.

"For he has humbled the inhabitants of the height, the lofty city. He lays it low, lays it low to the ground, casts it to the dust. The foot tramples on it, the feet of the poor, the steps of the needy." Isaiah 26:5-6

"The poor man cried, and the Lord heard him and saved him out of all his troubles. The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them." Psalm 34:6-7

I think sometimes the Lord pulls my sense of security out from under me so that I am forced to fall into His arms and acknowledge His greatness and might.

"Love each other with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor." Romans 12:10

God has commanded that, as brothers and sisters, we love each and outdo one another in showing honor. So, when people do honor me by protecting me, I should not mourn over my wounded pride but instead I should be filled with gratitude. They have been obedient to the Lord, and they have defended me when I could not defend myself.

So, thank you Lord and thank you, my brothers and sisters. If I don't say my thanks genuinely in the moment, it's because I'm stumbling over my hurt pride and struggling for words that would admit my need for you.

Send Some Rain

Sometimes (often for me), God speaks through poetry. The Psalms are the most obvious example, but I also think God can speak through literature, songs, and the poetry in nature. Last night, a friend of mine sat down at my electric upright piano and began playing a song from memory - "Gratitude" by Nicole Nordeman. The piano music is gorgeous in and of itself, but these particular lyrics spoke to me:

Send some rain, would You send some rain?
'Cause the earth is dry and needs to drink again
And the sun is high and we are sinking in the shade
Would You send a cloud, thunder long and loud?
Let the sky grow black and send some mercy down
Surely You can see that we are thirsty and afraid
But maybe not, not today
Maybe You'll provide in other ways
And if that's the case . . .

(Chorus)

We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
For lessons learned in how to thirst for You
How to bless the very sun that warms our face
If You never send us rain

These lyrics reminded me of a day recently when my spirit was under a storm cloud. I trusted the Lord in the midst of the sorrow. I was more thankful than ever for His nearness. I had been feeling dry spiritually, and I knew that it was because I was clinging too much to happiness, which is only temporary. The next day, the Lord reminded me that my life's purpose is to glorify Him, not to achieve happiness. So, really, I might be sad and that might be His will because it means my character is growing stronger for His purposes. (Romans 8:28, James 1:2-4). 

And yet, in that day of deep sorrow (it was a familiar place for me, but it had been a while since I had been there), all I wanted was the Lord's nearness (Psalm 73:26,28). I knew I could not remain in this place forever, but I also knew God could teach me in the midst of the feelings.

When it started raining - not a drizzle, but a downpour with thunder and lightning, the kind of storm that drives people indoors - I thanked God for answering a prayer I hadn't even asked. "Send some rain...cause the earth is dry and needs to drink again...Let the sky grow black and send some mercy down. Surely you can see that we are thirsty and afraid." I was lightheaded from laying out in the sun of happy days for too long. I was high on life (not a bad state of being if I am laying every blessings back at the Lord's feet). But, I was dry. I didn't want him to take away what he took away, but oh how lovely the rain felt on my thirsty soul. 

"You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?" - Psalm 56:8

As I listened to the rain and remained sheltered away from the storm, I had this sense of God crying with me or pouring out these tears of mine that He had stored in a bottle. Physically it was raining to remind me of His compassion and mercy and to stir me to gratitude, to love for my Savior (Hero, Husband, Maker, Redeemer), to a movement forward into His purposes for me. 

Sometimes, the rain doesn't come. The rain is a gift, not guaranteed in times of thirst. But, the lesson is always there. Most importantly, God is always there, maybe silent but not absent. 

"This I know, that God is for me. In God, whose word I praise, in the Lord, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can man do to me. I must perform my vows to you, O God; I will render thank offerings to you. For you have delivered my soul from death, yes, my feet from falling, that I may walk before God in the light of life." - Psalm 56:10-13