Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Learning Depth

Many of my childhood memories involve being at my grandparent's cabin on Lake Lure in North Carolina. Lake Lure is a beautiful lake, nestled in the Appalachians, and thus, naturally, has its fair share of traps for unwitting tourists.  One such trap is the bottomless pools. Artfully decrepit signs lure in curious travelers to see one of "the (I suppose unofficial?) seven wonders of the world." After winding down a long shady gravel drive, visitors find a pretty, yet unremarkable spring-fed pool. One sign details how "the bottom has never been found" while another reads "Bottomless pools, no wading."  This second sign has been the butt of countless family jokes. After all, is it not logically impossible to wade in a bottomless pool? Do they expect foolish visitors to slip off their shoes to wade in the "bottomless pool" and unwittingly sink into the endless black oblivion? It really is rather comical.

The Bottomless Pools have been closed for years now, and I've never given them much thought, other than as an overused family joke, at least until today. I have been thinking a lot about intimacy with God lately.  It is something I crave -- something I have had at many points in my life, but also something I have lacked at others.  This past school year at Samford, my relationship with the Lord was characterized by distance and questions, not intimacy, but over the past six months or so, I have once again found myself going deeper with the Lord.

This evening, I was sitting on my front porch, just enjoying resting in God's presence and thanking Him for the way he has drawn near to me in the past few months. The words of one of my favorite United Pursuit Band songs ran through my head as I prayed, "Your love is sweeter than honey, your love is stronger than death, your love rids me of my burdens, teaches me to dance!" It was such a joy to dwell on these words and feel in the depths of my soul that they are true. The love of my heavenly Father, is indeed sweeter than anything this world has to offer, more satisfying than anything else in the universe.  In the words of the Psalmist:

"O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
     my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
    as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. "
  
Yet in the Lord we are not left thirsty! For...
 
 "I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,
    beholding your power and glory. 
 Because your steadfast love is better than life,
    my lips will praise you. 
 So I will bless you as long as I live;
    in your name I will lift up my hands.
 My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food,
    and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips."

Psalm 63

Truly, to know the steadfast love of the Lord, to delight in His faithfulness, to know the intimacy of His presence, is the most satisfying thing we can experience as His beloved children. However, as I look around me and into my own heart, I would not characterize us as a people of delight. Perhaps we honor God as our King, our Savior, our Lord, perhaps we worship Him in awe of His power and might, perhaps we even love Him ferociously as our Savior. But do we love, desire and cherish Him as our bridegroom, our pursuer, the one who holds our hearts in His loving hands? 

I, for one, am guilty of loving God from a distance.  I hold Him as Lord of my life, revere Him as creator and King of the universe, but when it comes to the most intimate parts of my heart, I soetimes shut Him out along with everyone else. It's insane really. If we can trust God to hold the universe together, shouldn't we trust him enough to acknowledge that he holds hold our hearts -- trust Him enough to share with Him the deep, dirty bareness of our souls that thirst for His life-giving touch?  

We treat God like an awkward high school prom date.  We'll go with him because we don't have any other options, we appreciate what he's done for us, and we desire the benefits of being with him, but we don't really care much about him. We hold him at a distance, stumbling through a painful dance because we don't know him, or even want to know him.   

God is calling us to so much more! he is calling us to intimacy, to deep, abiding, soul-feeding relationship.  He loves us beyond measure and pursues our hearts with no restraint. He desires us, he delights is us, and he longs for us to delight in Him.  
 
So back to the bottomless pools. Today as I sat before the Lord, it struck me that His love is a bottomless pool.  (Cheesy metaphor? yes. Joyously true? yes.) And while we can mock the tourist sign that demands "no wading," we do so hypocritically, for wading is exactly what we try do in our relationship with God. We wonder, "How shallow can I stay and it be deep enough?" The problem is, wading in God's love is impossible. Once you enter into relationship with Him, there are no boundaries. We cannot cling with our toes to some footing in our fleshly natures, we cannot surrender our bodies to new life while holding our heads above water to breathe the air of sin and death.  God's love is engulfing, overwhelming, and radically transforming. It is never ending, for we cannot reach the bottom.  He is calling us ever deeper: “Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away." (S.O.S. 2:10)  The Lord is calling us to learn the depths of His love. Why do we harden our hearts, even as he whispers, "respond."

 
 

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Learning Weakness

I am pretty good at learning things with my mind. It takes me a little longer to learn them with my heart. I've always had a pretty good mental grasp on the idea that I am weak and God is strong. God can do a lot of things that I can't. He has a lot of power, goodness, and wisdom that I don't. He created and rules the universe. I did not and do not. He is holy. I am not. It is pretty obvious that God is strong, and in comparison I am infinitely weak. I can't change the weather, let alone bring the dead to life, yet somehow, deep in my heart, I still think that I am strong. As if any goodness or strength I posses, I earned or made for myself! Everything, down to each thought and every strand of hair on my head is a direct result of the grace of God.

Today, God made me highly aware of my weakness.  First, there was a problem in a friendship and I was determined to make it right. I soon discovered that righting it was utterly out of my power.  Then, I tried to run and a chronic knee problem flared up, forcing me to stop. I didn't even have power over the health of my own body! Later, I had a conversation about a family conflict and, once again, I was helpless to fix it. There must have been six or seven situations throughout the day highlighting my weaknesses, but dense as I am I didn't notice and only grew continually more frustrated as the day went on. Finally, God brought me to a breaking point. As I swam (since I couldn't run), brooding over the circumstances of the day, a thought interjected.

I am weak.

 An epiphany? yes, for my heart was, perhaps for the first time in a while, fully aware of the truth of that statement. I was weak, powerless to change my situations, to help anyone, to heal myself. A verse I had read this morning in Psalm 62 popped into my mind.

"For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,
    for my hope is from him. 

  He only is my rock and my salvation,
    my fortress; I shall not be shaken

  On God rests my salvation and my glory;
    my mighty rock, my refuge is God.

 Trust in him at all times, O people;
     pour out your heart before him;
    God is a refuge for us...
Once God has spoken;
twice have I heard this: 

that power belongs to God,
and that to you, O Lord, belongs steadfast love."


 God is strong. God is loving. Truth. I am weak, but I am not alone. God in his overwhelming love, has given me his Spirit, and He is my fortress. In my weakness, He is strong. I cannot change my circumstances, save others, sanctify myself, but God can, and He is. He is bringing His Kingdom in our hearts and our world and has given us overcoming power by His Spirit.

Today, I can confidently proclaim, in the midst of my weakness, the words of Nehemiah, "The joy of the Lord is my strength."