It’s been an interesting past couple of days.
We’ve returned home from our vacation, our toddler is still on Eastern time, we had a funeral to attend today, and our house is a disaster zone. No joke about the disaster zone part.
Piles of laundry, every surface covered in dust, no groceries, no semblance of peacefulness, a hundred tasks on the to-do list, flooring guys banging floor boards into place and a toddler who’s overtired and very needy. Not to mention she just spit up regurgitated milk all over her car seat. UGH!
It’s enough even to make my laid back head spin.
I’m pushing through, holding on to the promises, and doing one task at a time. Trying my darndest not to succumb to the temptation to sit back and avoid the reality that is spilled about me.
But adding to the chaos of returning home was realizing that we had a funeral to attend. I made reference to the fact that someone was ill here but I never really chatted much about it. Sometimes when we don’t have long heritages of believing family we inherit “spiritual grandparents.” Mary Ann and Eileen have been in my life since I was married. They taught a “homemaking group” through our church which has really just become a “sit and soak up knowledge” kind of a time 7 years later. But both in their late 70’s, early 80’s, they have been more than just “grandparents.” They’ve been faithfully showing me how to be a wife, how to be a mother, how to be a woman who puts her trust in Jesus.
After a battle with cancer, Mary Ann’s husband is at the feet of Jesus. After having watched someone die, front row seat to his immediate children grieving while standing beside my mother as she grieved the death of her husband, there’s an ache in my heart as to what’s ahead for Mary Ann’s family. We, the girls of Titus 2, will miss him, but there’s an ache a family feels when a loved one has passed.
And he wasn’t just any ordinary man. He was a living and breathing example of how to abide in Jesus. He was faithful to his calling as a man, husband, father and grandfather. And we knew this firsthand in enjoying his company and more so, through the eyes of his wife. The stories she shared and the love she had for him was incredibly evident. Their marriage is an example of one we can only hope to have. A legacy we can only hope to live.
We are blessed to know them, I’m blessed to have these incredible examples of faithful servants in my life. So we’re celebrating where he is and our hearts are heavy for the days ahead for his family and we’re abiding in Jesus, knowing He’s enough.
For all this mess and all this loss and all this heartache.
Abiding means one foot after another we can move forward.
Because He’s enough.
It was the middle of summer the first time the question arose. We were out on his boat, like we often were, and the lake was gorgeous, sun high up in the sky. And in response to my question he answered “I want to build boats in a large barn in our backyard.” I didn’t realize then but he was laying the groundwork.
Similar responses were given as we continued our new relationship and every time my heart did a little flutter as I realized what was in store if I married this man. So much unknown. And he was doing me good by preparing me for the life as the wife of an entrepreneur.
I remember often I’d say, “Of course you can build boats. But our bills will be paid right?” And really his questions had nothing to do with whether the bills would be paid. They were questions leading at my heart. They were asking in no certain terms; will you support me, cheer me on, encourage me, stand behind me. Will you be for me and not against me.
Nothing other than having an self-employed father could have prepared me for the heart of my husband. My father, though self-employed, stayed in one field. My husband has incredible dreams, intense work ethic, and he follows the One who leads him.
But more challenging than anything else in our marriage for me has been letting go of “normal.” Letting go of the idea that you must work a job with a boss and co-workers and health insurance. That you taking risk is risky and life should be orderly and under our control.
But that’s not what He whispered and that’s not the life to which I’ve been called. I’ve been called to rely on Jehovah Jireh, PROVIDER, and to support and encourage and help my husband. We’ve seen hard times and very little money coming in the door and we’ve had really good years, when all our desires are met. But throughout every year our “needs” have been covered. We’ve never been without food or shelter or clothing or care from our Shepherd.
We’ve flipped houses in a horrible housing market, sold houses and lived in a rental, we’ve bought rental property and finally our own house. We’ve remodeled houses and prayed for provision. We’ve successfully carried on a business or two in stride with paying for our living expenses, no small feat.
And when the times get really hard and money gets tights my first earthly response is always “honey maybe it’s time to go back to work.” And then I remember the times in the boat, the conversations about building boats and I look across the table at the man I married and my heart swells with pride. For what He’s done for us. For the way He’s created my husband and wired him to work for himself, hard and faithful to the calling to provide. And as a result we’ve had to lean in really close, beckon and ask the Lord for provision, calling on His name of Jehovah Jireh, and He’s answered and not always the way we thought He would.
This isn’t so much about my husband or about myself as it is in knowing that when we abide under the Lord’s wings, He’s got us. He knows our needs better than the birds, He knows our hearts, He knows us. Inside and out. He knows our worries and the cares we carry on our shoulders. He’s showing us that we don’t need earthly storehouses overflowing for the rainiest of days. We don’t need to bury our money in the ground.
He’s got us. I struggle all the time believing this. But I know much more now than I did as that naïve wife 7 years ago.
7 years in and I wouldn’t change a thing for the Lord has shown me more about provision through our marriage and my husband than I ever would guessed. I needed to trust the One who gives not the two hands in front of me. I need to believe that what He says in the book about who He is and what He does is TRUE. HE PROVIDES AND CARES AND LOVES US.
And He always gives us what we need.
Always.
Need sometimes looks a little different than what we originally thought.
And now I’m headed out back to see what kind of boats we’re building today.
The view from our window is one of a dreary fog as temperatures dip lower. The air is so crisp we bundle under blankets, cozy together. And as we sit and giggle and cuddle and read and my heart feels so satisfied. In these little moments, day by day, love is shown and given and received.
{picture from last year’s trip up north}
Day by day, there’s enough. There’s enough short temperedness and impatience. There’s enough messy dishes and diapers changed. There’s enough joy and love, most of the time to outweigh the heartache and sassiness.
But somehow day by day, there’s enough grace to go around. Enough grace to get through. Sometimes by the skin of our teeth.
Yesterday was one of those days. Our daughter has been extremely clingy. She only wants me. We’re in the middle of a huge project. Our house is a disaster and any sort of semblance ahs been left at the curb. I’m sure she’s confused and doesn’t understand why her daddy is upstairs making so.much.noise. And I can’t walk out of the room. I can’t leave her side. The whining won’t stop. The mess won’t clean itself up. I exhale and think about the fact that I only have two hands but that they can do so much to build up or tear down.
Two instruments given and wondering how they will find there way this day. And I realize then there’s only one thing for them to do. And I scoop up our girl, her blankie, her pacifier, and snuggle us in. The dishes can wait. The mess can wait. The thousand things I’m behind on can wait.
Because she needs me. I can’t understand her fully yet but you know when your baby needs you. And we giggle and cuddle and rest our weary selves on the couch knowing that if we disrupt this moment we’ll be back to frustration and tears.
And so we sit. Most of the day. Playing and loving and leaving the mess.
And as we sit longer and my mind wanders, I realize that day by day Jesus is looking at me in very much the same way but very differently as well. He doesn’t wait for the moment of frustration to pull me in His arms. He doesn’t wait until everything is done on His agenda to let me know I’m loved. Day by day He walks through all of it right alongside me. And He cuddles me, and loves me, and pulls me close. He’s giving me all of Himself, poured out, so that I can make it through the day, leaning in to Him.
I need to be Jesus to her.
But I need Jesus to make it through my day.
“Day by day,
and with each passing moment,
Strength I find, to meet my trials here;
Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment,
I’ve no cause for worry or for fear.
He Whose heart is kind beyond all measure
Gives unto each day what He deems best—
Lovingly, its part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and rest.”
One day, we’re going to rise. Jesus is going to come back and there we will be, united with Him. If you’re believing in Jesus you will experience great joy at the feet of the Savior. And the angels will be singing. And thousands of people will be bowing down before Him.
I can hardly fathom a picture in my mind of this glorious day. I can hardly begin to think how amazing this day will be. When we’re with the Lord. Those who have found themselves under His wing, abiding in all He has offered, will be in His glorious presence.
In the Old Testament they had to shield their eyes. We will see Him face to face.
Heaven is giong to be so utterly amazing we can’t even begin to fully grasp it. Small tastes are given here on earth. Music writers have tried to put the bring the experience to life. Writers have tried to discern the words in the Book. But no one really knows.
All we know is how great it will be.
Because when we rise, we will see Jesus. And the angels, oh my, better than any choir here on earth, belting out praise. Worthy, worthy, is the Lamb. Worthy is the Lamb. What a sight. What an experience. And we can be a part.
Sinner me and sinner you are able, by the blood of Jesus, to not only experience it but sit on the throne with Christ. That seems unfathomable. We’re so unworthy and yet that’s what the Gospel does…turns unworthy to worthy through Jesus, Gods’ son. And once we’re abiding, we’re never leaving. The anchor of all anchors is holding us.
Most mornings Pandora plays while we eat our breakfast and drink our coffee. A favorite station of ours is the “Matt Redman” channel. And this morning as the strains of “I Will Rise” began to play I gathered up our girl in my arms and we danced and I sang and she bobbed her little head. And the tears welled up in my eyes for how glorious it will be.
And how much I want her to know.
And for how good God was to allow me to abide in Him.
Because I’m gonna rise and stand among saints, before the Lord of Hosts.
Crazy.
There’s something beautiful about girl friends who love you just the way you are. I’ll be honest and let you know it’s taken me a long time to be a good friend. In fact, often I still don’t get it right.
Awhile back a friend wrote on her blog about friendship and though I don’t know her super well her entire post resonated so deeply with me. In fact, I’ve been back to read her brief words more than once.
Friendship between women can be so difficult and sometimes it’s nice to hear that I’m not the only one that has struggled. And yet, even when difficult, female friendship is so beneficial and life giving.
And as I’ve grown up, now in 30’s, I’m realizing little things about myself and about how friendships work and react and grow. I want to continue to invest in my friendships, in myself so I can be a better friend, and most importantly abide in Jesus, so I can be a good friend.
When I first started this blog I wrote this on the about page:
“Come & Abide came out of a desire to dialog our life.
To await, withstand, tolerate, and sojourn along with other women.
come let’s walk this road together.
crossing over the hurdles when they come,
rejoicing together, growing as women.
there’s a kinship here, between women.
will you walk this road with me…”
That’s what I want right now, for myself, and for you, and for those you know. I want us as women to join hands, abide together, as we weather the storms ahead. And the year’s I’ve written here I’ve felt the kinship as I’ve made friends via blogs, connected with old friends, and met new women in person. You have encouraged me and ministered to me and told me how much some of these words have meant to you.
And so I want to continue. Sojourning with you. And I want you to continue to fight through the mess the world wants to make before our feet and I want us, as women, to push through, grabbing the hands of those around us, helping one another through life.
I’m a few days behind, leaving a day or two out of my 31. But if I get to the mid-20’s I’ll be mighty proud of myself. We’ve been sheltering in, finding time this weekend to just be a family and enjoy the gorgeous fall weather we’ve been gifted up here in the north.
Enjoy our fall apple orchard photo’s from yesterday’s trip. Elizabeth thought she found heaven in apple doughnuts, hay bales, corn stalks, and pumpkins. She even grabbed the orchard cat by the head…apparently it’s that obvious that she has no pets at home:)
Life is a constant season of waiting.
I remember while we were waiting for Elizabeth thinking that this particular season of waiting was the hardest. And yet it wasn’t the first I had been through. I had waited on the Lord to heal my broken heart, I waited in hope that He would heal my ailing step-father, I waited for my husband, I wait daily for my sanctification to go faster and be easier, we wait for our daughter to know the riches that are in Jesus, we wait for Heaven, and even more we wait and plead for unsaved friends and family members.
We are not unaccustomed to waiting. We wait everyday for things we want, things we need, things we think would bring incredible joy and erase sorrow.
And yet, that particular season of waiting seemed as if it would break me. And I know, as I’ve met, ministered, and waited with others walking through infertility, that it hasn’t been easy for them either.
And as I reflect back, now on this side of the waiting, I’m not even quite certain why the wait for children is so hard. I’m not sure if it’s the picture of parenthood that the world has created, our innate desire as women to mother, the mere disappointment that something that comes easily to others hasn’t been given to us. Maybe it’s some mixture of a lot of things.
But how we wait seems to matter. We can actively wait or inactively wait. And it seems how we wait is not only to our own benefit but to the Lord as well. To abide, in one form, means to wait.
I can remember how waiting for Elizabeth made us wrestle with so many things. I had been home, having given up graduate school to help my husband with his company, in the anticipation that children would be added to our family. I had no career to fill my time. And then as the wait seemed to get longer we had to mentally prepare for the reality that children may not be in our future. Not feeling led to adoption or more intrusive forms of medical intervention, we began finally moving forward, after 2 years of waiting. I met with my college advisor beginning to brainstorm how and when I would re-enter school to finish. And the Lord led me to a place where I was seemingly okay with not having children.
My husband, throughout our journey with infertility, was never quite certain he wanted children. Yes, he wanted children because biblically children are a good thing and a sanctifying thing, but in some ways he could take or leave parenthood. But I, I really wanted children. To be a mother. So for me to get to a point with the Lord that I was content not having children was quite the feat. And then one day, out of the blue, my husband said casually as I cleaned up the kitchen, that he was ready to head back to the doctor and yes we should continue to pursue having children.
And in my heart, I waffled. I was training for a marathon, I had my classes lined up at school, I felt as though we were finally moving out of waiting to having a future, albeit without children. And yet, I knew I couldn’t pass the opportunity up.
Sometimes we know why we wait on the other side and other times we never know the cause for the waiting. After we headed back we got pregnant twice, losing both babies, before our Elizabeth was formed in my womb. God had a reason for the waiting.
I can conjecture up my own reasoning's but it doesn’t matter. All that I know this side of the waiting was that it was good. For me. For our marriage. For our abiding with the Lord. We wrestled and listened and beckoned and groaned and cried and rejoiced and trusted and became more and more selfless through the wait.
Waiting was for our good and it brought glory to God.
Abiding in the Lord is a combination of waiting on Him and leaning into Him, trusting Him and allowing Him to lead the way. It brings great joy to wait.
It’s not easy.
But since when have the best things ever been easy?
“Though the fig three does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines….{though my womb is not producing children, though the sick may not be healed} yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.”
Habakkuk 3:17-18 (italics my own)
Before our daughter goes to sleep each night we sing songs. And one song that we always sing is “God is so good.” But lately I’ve been changing the words to illustrate better the character of God. For He’s not just good, He’s always good. No evil resides in Him.
Instead of “God is so good” we’ve began singing “God’s always good.” And along those same lines I’ve added verses and one of my favorites is “God’s always near.”
God’s always near, God’s always near, there’s no reason to fear, for our God’s always near.
More than anything, I want our daughter to know who Gods is. We can’t in and of ourselves save her, that’s a work of God, but we can point her to Him. And just as we point her to WHO God is, we also want her to know what that means for her if He works in her salvation.
Right now I’m studying Leviticus with other women at our church. God, at that point in history, met His people in a cloud, and within the tabernacle, in the Holy of Holies, only for the High Priests to experience. But God, being rich in mercy and having a beautiful plan of salvation in place, has met us.
When He turns our hearts toward Him and we trust Him with all that we are, His helper, the Spirit, comes to live in us.
God abiding with us.
God in us.
We have no reason to fear. For He’s met us and is with us and is closer than anything in this world.
What a beautiful thing.
God abiding in us.
abide
{TO BEAR PATIENTLY}
Currently our house is a mess. Upon returning home, we moved almost our entire main level into our basement. Large yellow dust doors went up covering the stairwell and our main hallway and living amidst the chaos of a renovation isn’t fun.
I’m not going to sugarcoat it. Albeit there will be a brand new kitchen at the end of the next couple of months, the dust and chaos and long hours and tired bodies must come first.
It’s kind of like everyday life in a way. I’m having to fix my eyes on the end goal, a new kitchen, in order to hopefully make it through the next months, especially when a toddler is involved. And this shouldn’t be new to us. Although this is our first remodel to live through together, this isn’t something we don’t know a thing or two about. My husband coaches families through huge renovations every year.
But for me, this added mess, the chaos, the tears from the baby, the jostling of food from random locations, the dust…the whole bit will do me in if I’m not abiding in Him.
I know, that by His grace, He’ll get us through. I know, that He will pour out patience and grace onto us. I know that He will help me if only I whisper His name. And so, as the start of our renovation begins, I’m grasping the hand of the only One I know who will get us through this.
And that means abiding in Him.
Staying at His feet, enduring, fixing my eyes on His word, and remaining.
Today we returned from my hometown where we attended one of the most precious weddings I’ve been witness to. It rained, well poured, for the better part of their day but despite the sogginess it was stunning in its elegance and simplicity.
And when we returned home after a long journey in the car, we did not stop to relax or enjoy the mere sentiment of being home. Instead we hurried around getting our house ready for our next renovation, our kitchen remodel. It began to hit me as we moved furniture out of adjoining rooms and boxed up kitchen utensils, how much being home, is good for us.
The constancy, the repetition of the days, the comforts and even the stagnant smell only our own noses detect when life is not moving within our homes walls, are familiar and satisfying.
I love that when we return home our daughter Elizabeth gets so very excited. She just can’t hold her happiness in; it just overflows when we are home. And there’s something deeper there that gets me right deep down in my heart. The value and joy of having a constant place to be together, doing life together, that for this season will not change.
And it’s not necessarily dependent on the walls that enclose, as much as it is the familiarity of faces and the routine of the day. But it’s also the smell of the sheets, comfort of the soft chair, your self molded pillow, the things that surround.
It’s familiar. You want to be there. It protects and inspires and brings you joy.
And for that I’m thankful.
Seems just being at home, remaining in one constant place, creates a kind of safety and comfort we all long to experience.
It makes us want to stay awhile.
“What sayest thou, O my soul? Shall I longer hesitate, or withhold consent? Or shall I not, instead of only thinking how hard and how difficult it is to live like a branch of the True Vine, because I thought of it as something I had to accomplish — shall I not now begin to look upon it as the most blessed and joyful thing under heaven? Shall I not believe that, now I once am in Him, He Himself will keep me and enable me to abide? On my part, abiding is nothing but the acceptance of my position, the consent to be kept there, the surrender of faith to the strong Vine still to hold the feeble branch. Yes, I will, I do abide in Thee, blessed Lord Jesus.”
– excerpt from Andrew Murray’s Abide in Me
I’m a doer. A pull up your pants and just push on kinda girl. Somewhere along the line I learned that it’s better to just push through than to linger or let someone help. Head strong?
I remember when my husband and I were dating. We argued a lot. Some thought marriage was a horrible thing for the two of us. But here’s the thing, we never argued about things the other had done or not done. We argued about what we believed or were passionate about and most of the time it was out of exasperation because I just wanted to be right already. Even when I blatantly knew I was wrong in my opinion I would defend it as if it were my last day. I didn’t want to fail.
When I was growing up and we would get into trouble my dad would ask us into the living room or some far away, private place and let us know how much we had disappointed him. And because my parents were divorced early on in my life and there was probably some innate need for approval, this disappointment hurt so much. So much that I learned to cover my back in order to get out of “the talks.” Instead of learning to grow and being offered grace, I learned how to avoid, displace, and defend my misjudgments to the end. And though I had grown so much before meeting my husband, I still hadn’t been rid of this choking pride.
And as the days of our dating went on, I learned more and more what it meant to submit and to forgive and to admit that I was a flawed sinner, without perfect knowledge, and that I couldn’t do it all on my own. I learned more and more that I couldn’t trust a person to be more than what the person was physically, emotionally, and spiritually able to do. My husband, then boyfriend, couldn’t and wouldn’t be my God. I learned quickly to be realistic in my expectations, to offer grace, and to be realistic about who I was. The Lord grew me more and more and my husband taught me about grace and forgiveness firsthand. He met my pride word for word, talking about it for what it was, not beating around the bush with sin and then as soon as he outed my wrong, he offered grace. Humble grace. Something I had rarely ever met before.
I don’t deserve him even today.
But what became even more apparent from the time of my lost love to my wedding day and beyond, was that I wasn’t really in control. And I didn’t really want to be in control. What I really wanted deep down in the deepest part of me was for someone to love me and lead me and help me and keep me and show me the way despite of who I was just because they cared so much for me.
I needed to abide. I needed to rest my weary prideful heart right at the feet of Jesus because He loved me more lavishly and beautifully and perfectly than I had ever known before.
And somehow in His kindness, in our short 7 years of marriage, the Lord gave me this fallen, grace filled man to point me to Him. To attempt to lead me and love me and help me and keep me and show me the way despite of who either of us are because he cared for me and more than that he wants me to see Jesus.
I’m always continuing to learn that I’m just dust.
Just a feeble little branch,
Who needs the TRUE VINE to keep me.
{VIA SIMPLY DIVINE CREATION}
He’s keeping us. In ways unfathomable to us, even in our apparent wisdom, He has us secure, under His wing. I need to be reminded day in and day out that He’s got me. He’s keeping me. When the day seems like all is lost, the towel soon to be thrown in, the weariness affecting all that I am. He’s got me. I haven’t been forgotten in the vastness that is creation.
He has set me securely on high…He’s delivered me…and His angels are have been commanded to guard me.
He’s got us and more than that He’s WITH us.
“In some things you were led into sin without knowing it, because you had not learned how wholly Jesus wanted to rule you, and how you could not keep right for a moment unless you had Him very near you. In other things you knew what sin was, but had not the power to conquer, because you did not know or believe how entirely Jesus would take charge of you to keep and to help you. Either way, it was not long before the bright joy of your first love was lost, and your path, instead of being like the path of the just, shining more and more unto the perfect day, became like Israel’s wandering in the desert — ever on the way, never very far, and yet always coming short of the promised rest.” –excerpt from Andrew Murray’s Abide in Christ
Yesterday in an attempt to clear my mind and generate some sort of creativity for these posts, I came across Andrew Murray’s book Abide in Christ. I’m not sure if you are familiar with Murray but one of my all time favorite books was his With Christ in the School of Prayer. I read it while on a missions trip in France with Campus Crusade, the summer I say I found myself. And so, happening upon this book seemed more than mere coincidence to me. So I’ve decided that it will provide me with topics for each day as these 31 days unfold.
And so it was in my life as Murray stated, and the apostle Paul, my flesh at war with my heart, unwilling to yield everything. Toeing the line between selfishness and selflessness, fearing that it would break me. And yet breaking me is just what it took for me to let go…of everything.
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It was the beginning of classes my freshman year of college and already there was a boy who stole my heart in one glance. He literally had me at hello in that Psychology discussion group. As time would tell, even that first day he seemed to me the one my heart would love forever. It was almost three years until that fateful day when in tears it seemed the future I so wanted fell apart. With my own hands. They say a woman can tear down her house with her words and so literally I destroyed my own. Bricks to dust. My tongue did not yield and he turned in a different direction.
It left me waffling in a place I hadn’t previously known. A desperation. A sadness that somehow has never been replicated. A swallowing of self. Awaking to find I didn’t know how to go on without him. A loss of a limb in some ways. Most everything we were was intertwined, friends, life, my own imagined future. And I was so lost without him. I had the One who never goes away but I was also left with the bitter sorrow of lost love.
And as the days passed, him charting his own glowing future, I went the only place I knew, to the cross. And I struggled with new sight to see the good. To see this future that was not at all as I planned. It seemed, as the days lingered by, that God was not quite finished washing those white washed walls. And into the desert I walked, wandering about, battling my own sin and trying with all my might to right myself, put on a happy face.
Working and waiting filled the days as I tried to put the pieces back together. Frustrated and notably unfulfilled. And the Lord kept working on tearing apart every preconceived notion I had for my life. Every block I began to place upon the next He shattered moving my wall and forming His own. Slowly I learned how much easier it is to follow the road formed before you instead of starting and stopping and repaving all over again. But it took time.
And I began a mountainous trek through the valleys and up through the mountains. Rarely on steady ground, my feet rarely finding rest, I walked, fighting through the brush and undergrowth of the sin that had been trying to hold me back.
A trip overseas, binging, purging, dating all the wrong guys, ruined friendships, new friendships, death in the family, moving, and learning to love who He made me to be.
The journey that brought me to the end of myself. In just three short years.
And at the invitation of a friend I accepted to spend New Year’s surrounded by students. Knowing it was more than her invitation, it was the Spirit within bringing me home. And then I heard the words a man spoke into the microphone, not wanting to be where I was, trying only to appease and yet knowing I was right where I should be. He asked those before him to give a year to serve the One I knew with all my heart but also the One I just wasn’t sure I could trust. And before I knew what was happening I fell. On knees broken.
I couldn’t even give that day, let alone a year or a lifetime. I hadn’t even served Him that day. Out of fear. Out of bitterness. Out of utter sin and selfishness. For fear that He’d take me through harder valleys. Through more pain and more sadness. I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t sure I would make it much further.
I must give the day. Yield to the One who knows all.
For I already knew Him, but this was a different. This was a “you-can-do-whatever-you will” with my life, I trust you, kind of give.
I gave everything.
I knew at that moment that wherever He would take me, be it through hard things or seemingly easy, with Him was better than apart. Over the years of reconstructing my life, He showed me that His building is not in vain. No imperfections in the walls.
Confession and consecration and restitution and forgiveness happened that day.
Weary traveler from the treacherous journey, He brought me through, stronger, wiser, and refreshed.
And I found rest, perfect rest.
entire surrender to Jesus is the secret of perfect rest – andrew murray
“Come unto me, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; and ye shall find rest for your souls.” Matt. 11:28-29
{Just a reminder, I’m linking up with The Nester for 31 days of Abiding. All previous days can be found on the tab above marked 31 Days.}
“Thou on my head in early youth didst smile,
And though rebellious and perverse meanwhile,
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee.
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me.”
-From the hymn ‘Abide with Me’
As a little girl, on Sunday mornings, I would head to Sunday School more excited for the donuts in the fellowship hall than the stories within the classroom. Every week we were supposed to memorize verses and recite them for our teacher, garnering stickers for a job well done. And all I can remember is the fast paced study on the way there and the sweaty palms waiting for my turn knowing the words would not come out right. It became a game of getting more stickers rather than the pure joy of building up a storehouse of armor.
And yet those brief memories, in the classroom with familiar faces, the yellow and blue ceramic Jesus picture from a teacher, the Christmas concert and orange and apple filled paper bags, stirred my heart for more. And more He brought. Through people.
I can still remember the summer I headed to camp with a dear friend. And my eyes were opened. What seemed familiar and ordinary to the kids who went year after year, was new to me. The songs, the telling of the story of Jesus, the simplicity of the Gospel and the camaraderie amongst friends. And more stirring happened in my heart. I remember praying a prayer and longing for more but life didn’t just fall into place as I thought it would.
There were more people, more friends, more boys, more mistakes than I could ever count. A lifetime of regrets and joy intermixed. Rebellious and perverse, searching for love and acceptance, even though the only thing I ever wanted was already abiding with me. So many mistakes were made, mistakes that have had consequences. It’s been a bumbling, fumbling road to now, and yet somehow looking back, I’m not sure I would want to change everything that’s happened. Some things, yes. But others no.
For it’s taken a lifetime so far to understand and begin to grasp His love for me. For life is happening all around, shaping and reshaping what we thought we knew and what we now know, and all I know fully to be true is that He has not left me.
He’s always been abiding with me…
I’ve only needed to find myself in Him.
