The Church May Say

If you've been following the news lately at all, you've most likely seen headlines, stories, and blog posts about Rachael Denhollander and her courageous stand against Larry Nassar, a former US Gymnastics doctor and her abuser. Rachael is, in my opinion, a hero. A hero the 21st century church desperately needs. Her gospel presentation to the man who vilely hurt her are words that could be only said by a woman who knows her Lord, who knows her Lord has "set the captives free", and who knows her Lord will come in victory and punish evildoers with glorious, solid finality. She knows that her Lord heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds (Psalm 147:3), and she has stood in front of a watching world and born witness to the strength given her by her mighty Father. 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the country, this same Lord - the all-loving Father Rachael and I share - has brought me once again through a bruising season, from which I am finally emerging. And once again, I have learned that He heals and frees and loves even in terrible darkness. As proof of this, He sent a favorite recording of Psalm 124 across my path, and the passion, the emphasis of victory in every word, the defiant trust in and celebration of His goodness hit me with an incredible impact.

Rocky Mountain National Park; spring 2015

Now Israel may say [Church! This is you!], and that truly

if that the Lord had not our cause maintained

if that the Lord had not our right sustained

when cruel men against us furiously

rose up in wrath, to make of us their prey

The furious wrath of cruelty breathes down our backs and terrifies us. We wonder if freedom or safety are even possible. We wonder if justice will ever be done, if injustice will ever be called on the carpet. We wonder if the light will ever break through the fog of despair. We wonder if tears will ever cease or if the pain that forces them from our eyes will be healed. We wonder when victory over sin and Satan will come, if ever.

Maybe this is it... Maybe this is the end of the line. Maybe this really is how it all will end.

Maybe we are defeated.

Maybe we are prey.

Maybe the cruel men have won.

Then certainly they had devoured us all

and swallowed quick, for aught that we could deem

such was their rage, as we might well esteem

And as fierce floods before them all things drown

so had they brought our soul to death quite down.

It's just as we feared.

We've been devoured. Swallowed. Drowned by fierce floods and brought to death. Where is the happiness we once had? Where is the innocence? Where is that safety we instinctively crave? We've long moved past looking for the light at the end of the tunnel - now we're just trying to stand upright in pitch black, unending darkness. Like the Egyptians during the plague, we can't see our hands in front of our faces, much less wipe the tears off our cheeks.

This is intolerable, unsustainable.

Why?

North of Pacific Beach, Washington; winter 2015

The raging streams, with their proud swelling waves

had then our soul o'erwhelmed in the deep.

But blessed be God, who doth us safely keep

and hath not given us for a living prey

unto their teeth and bloody cruelty.

Somehow, in the midst of these swelling waves, our feet brush against a Rock. A jolt of realization and hope makes our eyes flash and our hearts leap. In the dark stone tunnel, the teary eyes sparkle, because a great Light is shining to those who once were in darkness.

He has kept us, even as we didn't - couldn't - realize the keeping. He has rescued the prey and prevented defeat, and once again, Daniel cries, "My God has sent His angel and shut the lions' mouths and they have not harmed me!"

Even as a bird out of the fowler's snare

escapes away, so is our soul set free

broke are their nets, and thus escaped we.

Therefore our help is in the Lord's great Name

who heaven and earth by His great power did frame.

Look, Church. Look at the bird flying free, released from the snare and the nets and the waves. Look at your souls - see the final redemption and the imputed righteousness and the hope that lies within us. Look around you at the mighty power of God in your brothers and sisters in Christ, in their lives and hearts and tragedies and triumphs, in their mountains and valleys, mornings and evenings, lives and deaths.

Now turn, and look at your Lord.

Your help is in His great name. The name that compels every knee in heaven and earth to bow is your strong tower. The all powerful Jehovah is yours, your undefeated Conqueror. Emmanuel, God with us, is yours, your all-sufficient Savior. The Comforter is yours, your constant help and guide.

Bank of the Big Thompson River; spring 2015

This is for you, Church. This is for you, Rachael. This is for you, friend with an unexpected medical diagnosis and a frightening future. This is for you, suffering saints. This is for you, friends who intimately know the darkness, hopelessness, emptiness, and loneliness of mental health struggles. This is for you, brothers and sisters with debilitating, undiagnosed pain. This is for you, broken families and marriages and friendships and congregations. This is for you, betrayed friend, in your anguished anger and shock. This is for you, children of tragedy and trauma and upheaval. This is for you, exhausted mothers and fathers, in your labors of love. This is for you, my fearing friend, who struggles deeply with understanding the grace and mercy of your Father (oh, how He loves you).

This is what you may say, Church. This is what you may say - not out of coercion, or fear, but because it is truth overflowing:

If it had not been the Lord who was on our side... 

Then they would have swallowed us up alive. 

Blessed be the Lord 

Who has not given us as prey for their teeth! 

Our help is in the name of the Lord, 

who made heaven and earth. 

(Psalm 124:1, 3, 6, 8)

-c



{lyrics to Psalm 124 from this link}

Bring Us Home

[The below was inspired by "Bring Us Home (Joshua)", from the Music Inspired by The Story album. The song imagines the thoughts of Joshua, the second leader of the Israelites as they traveled home, and the man who led them around the walls of Jericho as they waited for God to work in power. Lyrics source; song video. I claim no rights to this song.]

Bring Us Home

We remember the chains we carried, 

won't forget about the day we left 

Every heart still beats with hope of a promise made, 

a promise kept. 

We are a broken and hurting world, Lord. We need a home, somewhere to rest and find the connection and hope for which our hearts cry. We need this home now - we can't survive without one. Bring us home.

No mercy in the high noon desert, 

no shadow gonna block the sun 

Still covered in dust from all our yesterdays 

and days to come

Father, You have built this need into our hearts. We are created in Your image, and therefore we instinctively know the truth of Pascal's words - "there was once in man a true happiness...this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object; in other words by God himself". (Pensees, pg 84) We try to fill the abyss with so many things - four walls, two arms. Small waistlines, large bank accounts. Desperate goals, promises of peace, dreams turned into harsh taskmasters. Golden calves & extra manna. But in the end, those are houses of cards and they collapse like the walls of that city.

Every turn is a new temptation, 

you wanna bow down to something new... 

Yahweh, oh Yahweh 

bring us a new day

Pain points us to this home, but we shrink away. We know that You have the answer, but it seems safer to cover our ears and close our hearts and take the easy way out. Because if one home won't welcome and keep us in the way we wished, another one surely will. And so we become nomads looking for the next watering hole, the next oasis, the next house built on a foundation of sand.

Bring us home 

Lead us to the highest wall 

Every single stone will fall 

We have never walked alone 

Only You can bring us home

You have a home for us, though. Praise God, You have a home for us. A home we can find safety and solidity and peace in, right now, and His name is Emmanuel. Because of Him, You tell us that we cannot fathom the depth and breadth of Your love, that You will give us all things, that You went through the ultimate rending and tearing for us, that You love us with an everlasting love, that You are our Father. Our help in ages past and our hope for years to come, and our eternal home.

Every teardrop in the sand 

Longing for a distant land 

We have never walked alone 

Only You can bring us home 

You tell us that we can find security and fulfillment and a rock - a permanent home - in Christ our Lord, now. And so we, by unimaginable grace, enter this home and are told that here, we are forgiven. Here, we are free. Here, we are loved. Here, our dead hearts and failed card houses are not held against us. Here, we are righteous.

...In seven days everything was made 

And in a week, 

It's crazy how everything can change 

Yeah, and we gonna march around this wall 

'Til we hear the Lord's call, 

hoping life will never be the same

So we unpack and learn to live with the other occupants, in love and truth and wisdom and grace. You guard us with a fierce love and You break down our sinful habits and hearts. You feed us with the richest bread of life and the sweetest water from the most bottomless of wells. When it hurts, You remind us that You work every last thing for our good and You will walk every dragging, stumbling, crawling step with us.

So when your life is all a wilderness 

And your darkest night is every one you took a breath 

All you know to do is follow hoping for a new tomorrow 

Where your sorrows don't exist and pain is put to death

We see this and we say, "Lord, we are truly grateful. But we would know - when will the painful steps end? When will we be able to leave our fear at the door? When can we shed our frail selves?"

As we stomp around a seventh time 

I anticipate a taste of what He says is mine 

You answer us and say, I go to prepare a place for you. And I will come again and take you to myself, so that you may be with me. I am leading you to your Canaan. This, my sons and daughters, is your eternal home.

Cry, cry, until you see it fall 

Until you look beyond a wall and you see it all 

This home, my children, is perfect. There is no pain. There is no fear. Every tear is wiped away and every scar is healed. Every weary soul is finally and fully refreshed. Here, anger does not build callouses over your hearts; in fact, anger does not exist here. Here, voices are not raised and barbed words are not slung. Bodies do not break and brains do not panic. Here, sirens do not light up the night, bullets do not sear the air, screams do not echo across the landscape. Wind and water do not destroy you here, and fire does not wipe out your lives. Enemies do not attack my pilgrims, men, women, and children. Here, metal does not crush against metal and vehicles do not spin off into ditches, shearing neurons and slicing skin on the way. Here, your hearts will not race in shock and fear. Families do not shatter, children are not murdered, and my Word is not defamed. Here, you have the answer to your questions and hopes and tears and prayers.

Bring us home 

Every single stone will fall

Here, you are healed.
Here, you will lay down your burden and stand straight and tall.
Here, you do not have to fight anymore.
Here, you will finally know the depths of my love.
Here, you are with me.

We have never walked alone 

Only You can bring us home

Here, you are home.

Bring us home...

Bring us home, Lord.

Only You can bring us home

Bring us home.

Presence

I haven't posted here in a long time. Just over a year, to be exact. For many months, I've wanted to come back and write more, but the thought usually came to me while I was driving and therefore unable to do anything about it. But I'm back now, and a completely different woman than I was on September 19th of last year. The Lord, in His providence, gave me both great joy and great sorrow, both very unexpectedly. Right now, the sorrow has the upper hand. I don't know how long that will last and how long He will lead me through the waters, but I know - I know - that He is here. Always.

I know that the Father is with me. When the pain leaves me shaking my head and in tears and the shock hits once again, I am reminded that He sent His only begotten Son through unfathomably worse pain to reconcile me to Him and bring me home. None of this shocks the God of heaven and earth, owner of infinite galaxies and tender of my heart. He shows me that He will restore the fortunes of His people (Psalm 53:6) and that He alone makes me to dwell in safety and sleep in peace (Psalm 4:8). He reminds me that I am His. He is mine. He is my Father, and I will not be afraid. He is my Deliverer. He does only wondrous things (Psalm 72:18). He rejoices in me, which I can't quite fathom, and He exults over me (Zephaniah 3:17). That blows me away, but even in that...

He.
Is.
Here.

Kansas thunderstorm, I-70

I know that the Son is with me. When earthly comfort cannot ease the ache, He whispers that He is my comfort, that I can go to Him. An overheard conversation between two friends brings the reality of His perfect life, lived for me, to the forefront once again. Music, the one thing guaranteed to calm my racing heart, tells me that "He will raise [me] up on eagles' wings, bear [me] on the breath of dawn, make [me] to shine like the sun, and hold [me] in the palm of His hand". (Shane & Shane, Psalm 91) He tells me that I am clean. Safe. Loved.

He loves me.

I know the Spirit is with me. The lessons are coming fast and hard all over the place - this is what it means to have Me as your all, to turn to Me in grief and confusion, to be an adult in My strength. To be willing to give up everything, everyone, for Me. Do you trust Me to be with you even if the darkness closes in and the fear seems to win? This is what He is speaking to my heart. This is His fellowship (2 Corinthians 13:14). And yes, this is His joy (1 Thessalonians 1:6).

The night is dark, and I am far from home

Lead thou me on.

He answers, "I am."

Fall, Colorado prairie

I would have never wanted to learn this, this way. I would have kept my life the way it was - my relationship, my plans, my dreams. Three years ago, I would have kept my brain health, my peace, my great designs on life. I could go back to each of the major trials in my life and pinpoint exactly what I wanted to keep before it was all torn away. But I don't get to choose. I don't get to hang on. The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away - and without that, there is unmoored insanity and frightening meaninglessness. So - by His grace - I grit my teeth and rise to stand with my brothers and sisters in Christ, around the world, across time, in all eras and situations and trials and sufferings and experiences and tragedies, and say...

Blessed be the name of the Lord.

~charity

Mindful Monday // 9.19.16

Above the Big Thompson River, May 2015

For as high as the heavens are above the earth, 

so great is his steadfast love 

toward those who fear him

{Psalm 103:11 ESV}