When Dawn is Delayed

I awoke yesterday, and the trees were a thousand fingers stretching from the hands of the hills, their fingernails painted yellow,red, and orange. Mostly they are dogwoods--red like sunburned salmon--whose leaves are dyed to declare the glory and existence of their Creator. Today though, I awoke and the sun had not yet climbed above the hills, the dogwoods and sourwoods slept silent, and the sheet of night still covered them. Not normally very cogniscent at pre-dawn hours, I was surprised to find myself considering the stark difference of my two mornings. One, like a rooster crowing or a trumpet announcing the greatness of our God, had captivated my heart with the vivid reminder that God must exist,that creation could in no way have just happened. The other was a dark and silent morning where the only light came from switches I turned on. Where on this second morning was God? Naturally my heart considered the two extremes--the mountain top experience when the hills are alive with the music of their Creator and the black hour before dawn when the absence of light somehow causes one to ask where is their maker? We're all so different,our lives so varied, that it is hard to say what will be darkness for each of us. Something as insignificant as a burnt souffle or as magnificent as the loss of our spouse can both bring a darkness of soul upon us. Yesterday my eldest son, Nathan was working on a difficult assignment for school. Off to a good start, his instructions were clear and he seemed to understand fully what his work held for him. I had gone downstairs to begin lunch preparation while he finished up. When I called for lunchtime he didn't respond. I poured the boys' milk, and still, he did not come. I called a second time. When finally he crested the stairs, I knew he had met a darkness of the soul. The assignment had been overwhelming to him. Normally a diligent, persevering student, I was surpsied to see his eyes swollen and face polka dotted with pink splotches. He had been crying. "You're going to be mad at me. I didn't get it done at all," he gurgled out between sobs. And I thought, No. No. I'll not be mad. I'll hold and comfort you, and then we'll tackle that assignment because I know you can do it. But first you must know you aren't alone. Though I was just downstairs--still present and ready to help--somehow he had assumed he was entirely on his own, and he felt helpless. That, my friends, is a darkness of the soul. We come to that point don't we? As Christians? We do. Just this week I've talked with four beautiful women whom I love, all of whom are walking through the pre-dawn hours of life. Divorce. Bankruptcy. Children wandering far from home. Overwhelming circumstances. Struggling with feelings of inadequacy for the demands of their lives, these beautiful, incredibly talented women are walking through the dark. And though they may not have faces puffed from sobbing, their hearts are swollen with grief. I wonder if they, like my son, feel as though they've been abandoned to a task far too hard when in fact their Creator is near. When Nate felt entirely alone, I was only feet away. In the same way, when we feel completely abandoned, our Savior has never left, never forsaken. We are not alone when darkness lingers. We are not. I sat with Nathan--held him in my arms and read to him from Galatians 6. Reminding him of Paul's encouragement to the people of Galatia to not grow weary in well-doing, I told him that in life there will be lots of assignments that are hard, that in those moments we can give in to our own fears and feelings of inadequacy, or we can persevere. Then I took him to Romans where Paul reminds us of something so important. While we feel unable to meet the task at hand, Jesus is praying for us. "Nate, while you were upstairs crying and feeling completely unable to do this assignment, your Savior was literally sitting beside God pleading for you. He reminded God that you are His child, that you need help. He's still praying now. He never stops." I couldn't help but think how we adults need to hear those words sometimes. Romans 8 begins with some of the most potent encouragement in all of scripture, "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." When Nate came down those stairs he was already condemning himself; he certainly didn't need my condemnation. He was convinced I would be furious with him for not finishing the task, when in fact I was filled with compassion for him and reminded that he is just a child. And aren't we just the same sometimes? We condemn ourselves when Jesus has already paid the price for our sins. There is no longer any condemnation no matter how much we feel like failures. We need to know our Father is no longer slinging the gavel declaring our guilt. His compassion for us as His children is new every single morning. Paul goes on to address what is happening in the spiritual world when we are in the dark. "In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will. And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword... ...No, in all these things we have complete victory through him who loved us! For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor heavenly rulers, nor things that are present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:26-36, 37-39) Spiritually speaking sometimes we wake up only to discover the lights have gone out. In those moments we need to know that we are not alone; we are not condemned to struggle through the apparent blackness of our lives. Our Savior lives to intercede for us, to plead before the Father on our behalf. Though we may not see the tangible evidence of His presence--the splendor of the autumn leaves alight with the rise of the sun--He remains near. Ever present. The ironic thing is that Nathan had everything he needed to complete that assignment. It wasn't that I had not equipped him practically. His problem was that he doubted himself and what I had already taught him. He panicked. We're reading Pilgrim's Progress right now and at one point in the story Christian,the main character, finds himself locked in the recesses of Doubting Castle. Despair has begun to overtake him when he remembers he has been given a key called Promise. Promise will unlock any room in the Castle of Doubt. He had the key all along and failed to use it because he had forgotten about Promise. We too have the promises of God to open the doors of doubt. Among my favorite is, "His divine power has given us everything we need pertaining to life and godliness." (II Peter 1:3) There is nothing we will face for which we have not been given everything we need to pass through it. Remembering the promise keys of God's Word is so critical to walking through the valleys where the shadows have darkened the skies of our lives. Christian, weary from a rugged and dangerous mountain climb, also finds himself before a castle where he wishes to rest. He sees it in the distance and longs for some peace and a place to lay his battle-worn body. But in the path there are two great lions and he is fearful that they will overtake him. I've thought long about those lions. There's a passage in Proverbs that says the sluggard will not attempt a task because there are "lions in the street." (Pr. 26:13) Just as he is ready to run for his life a voice stops him and says, "Do not fear the lions! They are chained. They are there to turn back those who have no faith. Stay in the middle of the path, and you will not be harmed." Christian made his way past the lions and though their roars echoed through the valley, they could not harm him. Darkness is on a leash. Our Father holds that leash, and there will come a day when darkness will no longer cloud our view. Until that day we walk not by what we see, but by the promises of God's Word. After hugs, comfort, reminders of truth, prayer and a little lunch--food never hurts a situation--Nathan finished his assignment with surprising haste. It wasn't simple. He was stretched, but he finished. I wouldn't give him something he couldn't do. Your Father won't do that to you either. If perhaps you've awoken to a dark time in life, it's my prayer that you'll continue in the truth that your Savior is praying for you, that the Holy Spirit is interceding on your behalf, your Father has leashed the darkness, and you are not alone as you pass from black of despair to dawn. And if you are awakening to a time in your life when the sun has revealed the splendor of your King then I pray you will record those images into the recesses of your heart so that when darkness comes you will have them to remind you that your Father exists, your Savior prays and your Holy Spirit intercedes. Pray with Me: Jesus, thank you for sitting beside my Father reminding Him of my needs. Thank you for intervening on my behalf over and over and over. Thank you for your Promises God. Remind me, Holy Spirit of those promises when my heart wants to doubt. Teach me to walk in darkness as though it were light because Your word says that even the darkness is not dark to you, Father. In the name of my Savior and intercessor, Jesus, Amen.

Freeze Part 1

I'm frozen--not moving, that is--and it's the most powerful position I've ever been in. A few weeks back my brother and sister in law sent out an email telling us that the passports they were supposed to be receiving in a foreign country were not coming through. She's expecting and they need the passports for travelling home to North America. Things are always sticky in these countries and it seems nothing is ever cut and dry. Apparently people can be denied several times before they ever receive proper documents. But then, they sent another email informing us they had heard from someone that their passports were going to come through after all. He said in this email: we did nothing but pray. It was unexplainable because they had not called and tried to get someone to pull some strings, they had not made any move at all--just prayed. That sentence--we did nothing but pray--just wedged itself into my heart and wiggled around until there was enough room for it to take root. I loved it. I thought about it. I mulled over it. Well known for making a few calls and getting things done, this is slightly contrary to my nature. In a similar situation about ten years ago when my husband and I were fast approaching our wedding with a fiancee visa application languishing amidst the red tape of immigration services, I was found on the phone to the president's office. Before all was said and done the president's personal secretary and I were on a first name basis. Ironically, we didn't get that paperwork--not even the president of the United States can help you when God is not fighting the battle. The difference between what happened with my brother and sister-in-law and what happened to my husband and I many years prior is simple--one battle was God's and the other was not. When God has a purpose there is nothing and no one who can thwart, change, alter or effect His intentions. We weren't trying to go against God--we just didn't have His master plan and weren't aware of what He would accomplish. We had prayed for His direction and He faithfully gave it to us through a closed door. What I want to talk about though is that sometimes God calls us to freeze in order to move mightily on our behalf. As a little girl I loved to play freeze tag outside our churchyard after Sunday evening services. The air would be thick like sweet tea and lightning bugs would join in our game dodging our lanky legs and arms as we chased each other down. We'd run from the bigger kids and inevitably they'd tag us. Then, we'd freeze. Only in the frozen moments would we catch our breath for the rest of the game. We couldn't move until someone else freed us from that position--all we could do was breath. And breath we did--we'd been running our little hearts out and we'd suck oxygen in like a thick milk shake until we were ready to run again. At some point, someone would come along and touch us and off we'd run again into the night. That was a childhood game, but in life sometimes the most powerful position we can ever be in is the frozen one. It's there that we catch our breath, gain perspective on what's happening around us and it's in that position that someone else is doing the running while we wait to be freed. This week two major things came up that set my feet to moving--I was ready to deal with both of them right away. Before the phone call that delivered the first news had ended I had a mental list of how I'd alter my day to accomplish the resolution of this situation. But that sentence from my brother-in-law's email came to me, special delivery from the Holy Spirit I'm sure. And I paused. Pray, Sarah. Just pray. Freeze. So, pray I did. Again and again. And then of course I did what any sane girl with four sisters would do--I called one of them. I love the phone a friend feature in life, don't you? Besides, that wasn't doing anything...that was just talking. (I know I still have much to learn) My sister said to me point blank, "Sarah, if it were me, I'd just wait. You don't need to do anything right now. Just wait and pray. Be ready, but wait." Well, when I'm in doing mood see if I call her again. Truly though, I thank God for godly family. Obviously God was speaking to me. I've been tagged and now I'm frozen. Jehoshaphat received a rather shocking bit of news himself during his reign over Judah. Some messengers arrived and informed him that a "huge army is attacking you from the other side of the Dead Sea..." (II Chr. 20:2b) Scripture says "Jehoshaphat was afraid, so he decided to seek the Lord's advice. He decreed that all Judah should observe a fast." (II Chr. 20:3) I love that. Here they are facing an impending attack and he tells them, "Don't eat. We're gonna stop and get advice from God." Hello? What about a Hollywood moment when on a horse reared to the heavens he shouts out, "An army's coming! Ready yourselves! Hide the women and children. Gather the men from your villages. Get your swords! We're going into battle!" None of that. In fact the Bible says, "All the men of Judah were standing before the Lord, along with their infants, wives and children." (II Chr. 20:13) Not only did they not prepare their families for the worst, they actually took the time to gather their families and stand still before the Lord. The most incredible thing we can do as a family in the midst of crisis is get on our knees before God and seek His face. But so often one of us runs to email our friend, another grabs their cell phone to call someone and another gets on google to research a solution. Meanwhile like our rusting landlines, the direct line to God remains unused. How we must grieve His heart to see us darting about in an effort to fight a battle that is not in our hands. When we fight with our man made weapons ignoring the face of God we swing imaginary swords at imaginary enemies because our battle is not against flesh and blood. It's as though God must want to whisper, "Sarah, you missed him. Sarah, that's not your enemy. He's up here. I got him. Sarah, you are fighting against air. Are you tired yet? Lay down your weapons and pray, Sarah. I'll handle it from here." The Israelites were right on the money this time around. They got before God and they prayed a prayer that recounted God's power, acknowledged that He rules over the earth and the heavens, declared His unstoppable strength and in humility they said, "we will cry out to you for help in our distress, so that you will hear and deliver us. We don't know what we should do; we look to you for help." (II Chr. 20:9, 12) I love that they didn't say, "Please, if it's your will deliver us." They were confident that their God would move. And He says to them, "Don't be afraid and don't panic because of this huge army! For the battle is not yours, but God's." I don't think the army was huge to God, but isn't it neat that He acknowledged that to them it was massive. Sometimes the things we face seem so impossible, so insurmountable to our human eyes and yet to God, they are but a vapor. When in God's hands, with a simple flick of his finger or a puff of breath from his lips, they are annhialated, oblitereated, eradicated from our lives. What we need to get is that when the circumstances we face involve in the purposes of God in our lives or the lives of those we love, the battle is not ours. God told the Israelite people, "You will not fight in this battle. Take your positions, stand, and watch the Lord deliver you...don't be afraid and don't panic! Tomorrow march out toward them; the Lord is with you!" (II Chr. 20:17) It was simple. In the end, when the men of Judah arrived on the battle scene, "they saw dead bodies on the ground; there were no survivors!" (II Chr. 20:25) God defeated their enemy before they even arrived. That's the power of God at work accomplishing His purposes for all eternity and He desires to do the very same thing in our lives today. The process was relatively straight forward. The people received bad news of impending battle. They gathered together with their families and fasted and prayed. They acknowledged their dependence on God and His power to act. And then, they stood and watched. God will work in the circumstances of our lives, but we need to get down on our faces before Him and beseech Him to do so. We need to cry out to the God of heaven and earth and declare His strength and ability and claim His power in our lives. We need not panic and begin a frenzy of activity in attempts to resolve situations and shape circumstances to our advantage. I'm not advocating inaction when God calls us to move. God told the Israelites to walk across the Red Sea and they obeyed Him, but what I am saying is that before we run we need to freeze--freeze before our loving and merciful God Almighty and wait for Him to free us to move. God's resolutions are always superior to anything we can accomplish. You know the Bible says it took three entire days for the people to haul off all the plunder--supplies, clothing and valuable items--that they took from the battle they never fought! And when the resolution has come from God, there will be peace. "Jehoshaphat's kingdom enjoyed peace; his God made him secure on every side." (II Chr. 20:30) I'm not promising extreme wealth and perfect harmony from a human standpoint, but I can promise without hesitation that the plunder of a spirit filled with the fruit of a heart committed to God will be more than we can eat in this lifetime. And I know that the peace God will give will be the kind of peace that stands before the armies of our lives and says, "My God is with me and He will give me the victory because this battle is His." So, here I stand, frozen until God chooses to free me. My spirit is in prayer and fasting right now as I expectantly await God's movement. And I know that in this position, I am more powerful than if I were on the phone with the president's secretary and though I don't know the outcome, there is peace on every side. Amen.