This is the third of a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.
October 19, 2009
On the Crooked River
“Speak Lord, for your servant listens.”
I know I hear and see in part, Lord, but still I listen and watch. You have opened a window of sunshine in an otherwise dreary land on this fall day. I see it as a blessing from your hand for me, reminding me that your eye is upon me.
You are speaking, and so I will write what I am hearing from your Spirit this day, “This sickness is not unto death.” And yet even in my writing I know that Lazarus died. But I also know as he was raised from the tomb, he went forth, never again to fear his passing from this life into eternity. Death was no longer an enemy to be feared but a journey to be anticipated.
I do not know your plans for me; I can only see what you have placed in front of me this day. But your Spirit whispers, “This, this is that which you have desired for so long…to be set free from the fear of sickness and even death itself, for you and your children and your grandchildren. I am going to do a mighty work in you my child. You will see with new eyes and feel with a new heart. Trust will be your constant companion, mercy and steadfast love your portion!
At last you will be freed from that which would cause your eyes and heart to turn at times from me. This is the time I have appointed for you! Do not fear those who can harm the body, but fear the one who can destroy men’s souls. May that fear give you renewed compassion for those who still tremble. Share with them of my great love and compassion, now that you are truly catching a glimpse of all my salvation means in light of eternity.
Life here is but a vapor, yet it is that which you and others grasp. Lift up your eyes and see me in my majesty and glory. Do not fear this time, but rather welcome and embrace it as my good gift to you, for I have loved you with an everlasting love and I will accomplish all I have purposed to do in your life.
I know you fear, but as I spoke to you so many years ago, “Trust Me”. All the prayers you have whispered have not gone unheeded, all your struggles not unseen, I am about to do a work that, if I had told you before, you would not have believed. This is the time, this is the day, rejoice and see my hand at work.”
I do trust you Lord…help me to trust you more. May I be as a vessel of clay in your hands, willingly embracing the Master’s Touch.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Do You Want to Be Healed?
This is the second of a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.
October 17, 2009
“Do you want to be healed?”
You posed the question to the lame man at the pool of Bethesda, now you pose it to me, Jesus. My reason for hesitation is surely different than his, but my initial response is the same. The lame man assumes healing must come from the physical labor of man, someone to move him into the pool. How foolish, I have often thought, and yet, I search with fingers flying on the keyboard to find the answers of how I might be healed. How foolish!!
You are the great physician, Jesus. By your stripes I am healed. This physical body will one day rise anew, sickness and death dispelled. But for now, for tonight, it would seem you are posing the question to me, “Do you want to be healed?”
My response surprises even me. I do not want to be like this man who was physically healed only to not realize who Jesus is. If my being made whole causes me to lose touch with you, Jesus, then my answer would be no. In my lameness, my blindness, my spiritual paralysis, I have not always recognized you for who you are. These past few months have opened my eyes to you; I have seen you, high and lifted up. I have caught a glimpse of your glory! Rather than longing for what is passed, I look ahead to what is…an eternity with you!
But I do desire to be healed, if that will lead me to sharing of your glory, delighting in your love, declaring the awesome wonder of you. I do not want to go back to what was, a life lived in mundaneness. I have been content to dwell at the pool amid the lame and the blind, looking for one to help me rather than looking to how I might help those around me. Oh that I might be the one to offer sincere love to others!
What joy yesterday to have my time “interrupted” by my son, to be content to enjoy an hour of conversation with him, though there was much to do. To go to my daughter’s home today and sit on the porch, enjoying the beauty of a blustery fall afternoon as I took in the wonder of my grandson, marveling at the beautiful simplicity of being a child. It is for these, my children and grandchildren that I want to be healed, that I might share of your great love and mercy with them.
From surface conversation to heartfelt prayer, Thursday evening dinner with good friends took on a new dimension as they were the first to share in the news I received. My heart now is linked with theirs, for we have journeyed together through the valley of the shadow. I am truly feeling sheer joy and pain and delight in the journey. This is the gift you have given in my infirmity of the past few months.
And now, a potentially bigger challenge is in my path. I do not know the outcome, but if indeed this is your Spirit asking me tonight, “Do you want to be healed?” I respond with reverent fear, “Yes…heal my body as you have already healed my soul. Make me a servant of your people, may the days allotted to me have purpose in you.”
Merciful Father, may I have length of days to show mercy to others.
October 17, 2009
“Do you want to be healed?”
You posed the question to the lame man at the pool of Bethesda, now you pose it to me, Jesus. My reason for hesitation is surely different than his, but my initial response is the same. The lame man assumes healing must come from the physical labor of man, someone to move him into the pool. How foolish, I have often thought, and yet, I search with fingers flying on the keyboard to find the answers of how I might be healed. How foolish!!
You are the great physician, Jesus. By your stripes I am healed. This physical body will one day rise anew, sickness and death dispelled. But for now, for tonight, it would seem you are posing the question to me, “Do you want to be healed?”
My response surprises even me. I do not want to be like this man who was physically healed only to not realize who Jesus is. If my being made whole causes me to lose touch with you, Jesus, then my answer would be no. In my lameness, my blindness, my spiritual paralysis, I have not always recognized you for who you are. These past few months have opened my eyes to you; I have seen you, high and lifted up. I have caught a glimpse of your glory! Rather than longing for what is passed, I look ahead to what is…an eternity with you!
But I do desire to be healed, if that will lead me to sharing of your glory, delighting in your love, declaring the awesome wonder of you. I do not want to go back to what was, a life lived in mundaneness. I have been content to dwell at the pool amid the lame and the blind, looking for one to help me rather than looking to how I might help those around me. Oh that I might be the one to offer sincere love to others!
What joy yesterday to have my time “interrupted” by my son, to be content to enjoy an hour of conversation with him, though there was much to do. To go to my daughter’s home today and sit on the porch, enjoying the beauty of a blustery fall afternoon as I took in the wonder of my grandson, marveling at the beautiful simplicity of being a child. It is for these, my children and grandchildren that I want to be healed, that I might share of your great love and mercy with them.
From surface conversation to heartfelt prayer, Thursday evening dinner with good friends took on a new dimension as they were the first to share in the news I received. My heart now is linked with theirs, for we have journeyed together through the valley of the shadow. I am truly feeling sheer joy and pain and delight in the journey. This is the gift you have given in my infirmity of the past few months.
And now, a potentially bigger challenge is in my path. I do not know the outcome, but if indeed this is your Spirit asking me tonight, “Do you want to be healed?” I respond with reverent fear, “Yes…heal my body as you have already healed my soul. Make me a servant of your people, may the days allotted to me have purpose in you.”
Merciful Father, may I have length of days to show mercy to others.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
A Great God
In October of 2009 the Lord set my feet upon a path of fear and faith, testing and trusting. It is a journey that has found me falling, time and time again, at the feet of of the one who gave His life for me. In it all I have come to realize that God answers the cry of my heart not because I have great faith, but because He is a Great God.
Some who read this blog may understand fully of what I write, for you too are in the midst of a difficult trial. For you, it is my prayer that as I share a part of that journey, as recorded in my journals through that season, that God might use a small part of what He has worked in my life to encourage you on your path.
October 16, 2009
And so the journey begins….a word from our friend, my doctor, yesterday…a word I really did not want to hear. “The nodule has grown”.
To be human is to hear those words and to fear. “What if?” echoes in my mind. I hear and I think, my days may have limit…and yet as a mortal…one who must put off this earthy tent…I understand my days have been appointed by the Lord.
I do not know how this will unfold. Is this it, the final preparation for a glorious journey I fear yet long for? Or is this a time to simply be transformed from glory to greater glory as I see you anew, oh God. Is this your way of answering all I have prayed through the years…the yearning desire to know you more? I do not know, but I know Who I know.
My prayer is that of David in Psalm 16, that beautiful Psalm which you directed me to in that precious midnight hour just past.
“Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge….
The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup,
you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places,
indeed I have a beautiful inheritance.
I bless the Lord who gives me counsel,
in the night also my heart instructs me.
I have set the Lord always before me;
because he is at my right hand I shall not be shaken.
Therefore my heart is glad and my whole being rejoices:
my flesh also dwells secure.
For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
or let your holy one see corruption.
You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore."
You are my inheritance…you hold my lot. In you oh Lord I place my trust.
Some who read this blog may understand fully of what I write, for you too are in the midst of a difficult trial. For you, it is my prayer that as I share a part of that journey, as recorded in my journals through that season, that God might use a small part of what He has worked in my life to encourage you on your path.
October 16, 2009
And so the journey begins….a word from our friend, my doctor, yesterday…a word I really did not want to hear. “The nodule has grown”.
To be human is to hear those words and to fear. “What if?” echoes in my mind. I hear and I think, my days may have limit…and yet as a mortal…one who must put off this earthy tent…I understand my days have been appointed by the Lord.
I do not know how this will unfold. Is this it, the final preparation for a glorious journey I fear yet long for? Or is this a time to simply be transformed from glory to greater glory as I see you anew, oh God. Is this your way of answering all I have prayed through the years…the yearning desire to know you more? I do not know, but I know Who I know.
My prayer is that of David in Psalm 16, that beautiful Psalm which you directed me to in that precious midnight hour just past.
“Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge….
The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup,
you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places,
indeed I have a beautiful inheritance.
I bless the Lord who gives me counsel,
in the night also my heart instructs me.
I have set the Lord always before me;
because he is at my right hand I shall not be shaken.
Therefore my heart is glad and my whole being rejoices:
my flesh also dwells secure.
For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
or let your holy one see corruption.
You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore."
You are my inheritance…you hold my lot. In you oh Lord I place my trust.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Two Kings
Two kings, chosen by God to lead the people of Israel. Two Kings who, early in their reign, would be given the choice of obedience or disobedience to the very God who had given them their kingdoms. Two kings, I could not help but reflect on their stories as I stood there at Beth-Shen in Israel, the wind blowing softly though the top of the tress. For it was there at Beth-Shen that one would reap the repercussions of his choice, even as the other was being elevated to the place of authority.
Saul had been ruling for but two years when we first find him in an encounter with the Philistines. Though their numbers were few, the men of Israel won the battle, as Saul’s son, Jonathan, led the charge and defeated an entire garrison of Philistine warriors. Taking the credit as his own, Saul proclaimed that a trumpet was to be blown throughout the land of Israel to announce his great victory.
But the war was not yet over. Just days later the Philistines regrouped, complete with thirty thousand chariots and six thousand horsemen and troops that numbered “like the sand on the seashore”. Men of Israel who just days before had been dancing in celebration, now found themselves hiding...in caves…in holes…in rocks…in cisterns…even in tombs. Their fear was palatable, permeating the very air that they breathed.
Have you ever been there? Frightened, surrounded by all that is causing you to tremble? If you are like me, you just want to do something…anything! Anything, that is, but wait. And yet, that is so often what God asks of us. To wait. To give God time to work.
That was God’s word to King Saul. Wait, Saul, just wait. In seven days Samuel will come and make an offering. In seven days you will see my plan, be given direction. In seven days I will make my way known. But Saul could not wait. He was too afraid…of his enemies, of his own people, of losing his kingdom. Decisions made that day would culminate on a mountain overlooking Beth-Shen, where Saul would be cut down in battle; his body hung on a tree in that ancient city, his Kingdom given to another.
Another who would come and find himself in an almost identical situation. Surrounded by the Philistines, David inquired of the Lord as to what he should do. Such wisdom. The Lord told David to go forth, that He would give them victory over their enemy. God did as He promised, and David declared, “The Lord has burst through my enemies before me like a bursting flood”, giving all glory to God. Such humility.
Some time later the Philistines regrouped, on the attack once again. Had I been David I would have gone forth immediately to attack, assuming that God would provide the victory as before. Not David. It is recorded in the book of 2 Samuel that David inquired of the Lord. Again. And what was the Lord’s answer? “Wait, David, wait.”
There it is again. Wait. For what? To give God time to work. “Wait, David, until you hear the sound of a going in the tops of the mulberry trees. For then, the Lord will have gone out before you to strike down the army of the Philistines.”
Try telling that to your army.
“What is your command, oh King?”
“Wait until you hear the wind in the top of the trees.”
Surely they would have thought him a bit crazy, which, perhaps, David was. Crazy about God, the one who had chosen him, an insignificant shepherd boy, to be King of all Israel. Crazy enough to believe that if God said he would send a wind in the trees as a sign that it was time to march to victory, then surely victory would be theirs. Crazy enough to wait for that wind to blow.
He did not question how he would be able to distinguish the wind of God from the every day breeze that blows. This was a man after God’s own heart, a man who made a practice of listening to the voice of God. This was a man who would not find his end on a desolate hill somewhere overlooking Beth-Shen, but rather he was a man to whom God made the promise, “I will establish your Kingdom forever”.
Oh that I might be like David, so in tune with the voice of my Lord that I am willing, at His command, to wait. To give Him time to work. To quell the voice of fear that tells me waiting is foolish, that action is required. To wait until I hear the wind of His spirit blowing, going before, that the victory and glory might be His. May I choose to look towards that Kingdom which is forever, where I will spend eternity with the King of Kings.
Saul had been ruling for but two years when we first find him in an encounter with the Philistines. Though their numbers were few, the men of Israel won the battle, as Saul’s son, Jonathan, led the charge and defeated an entire garrison of Philistine warriors. Taking the credit as his own, Saul proclaimed that a trumpet was to be blown throughout the land of Israel to announce his great victory.
But the war was not yet over. Just days later the Philistines regrouped, complete with thirty thousand chariots and six thousand horsemen and troops that numbered “like the sand on the seashore”. Men of Israel who just days before had been dancing in celebration, now found themselves hiding...in caves…in holes…in rocks…in cisterns…even in tombs. Their fear was palatable, permeating the very air that they breathed.
Have you ever been there? Frightened, surrounded by all that is causing you to tremble? If you are like me, you just want to do something…anything! Anything, that is, but wait. And yet, that is so often what God asks of us. To wait. To give God time to work.
That was God’s word to King Saul. Wait, Saul, just wait. In seven days Samuel will come and make an offering. In seven days you will see my plan, be given direction. In seven days I will make my way known. But Saul could not wait. He was too afraid…of his enemies, of his own people, of losing his kingdom. Decisions made that day would culminate on a mountain overlooking Beth-Shen, where Saul would be cut down in battle; his body hung on a tree in that ancient city, his Kingdom given to another.
Another who would come and find himself in an almost identical situation. Surrounded by the Philistines, David inquired of the Lord as to what he should do. Such wisdom. The Lord told David to go forth, that He would give them victory over their enemy. God did as He promised, and David declared, “The Lord has burst through my enemies before me like a bursting flood”, giving all glory to God. Such humility.
Some time later the Philistines regrouped, on the attack once again. Had I been David I would have gone forth immediately to attack, assuming that God would provide the victory as before. Not David. It is recorded in the book of 2 Samuel that David inquired of the Lord. Again. And what was the Lord’s answer? “Wait, David, wait.”
There it is again. Wait. For what? To give God time to work. “Wait, David, until you hear the sound of a going in the tops of the mulberry trees. For then, the Lord will have gone out before you to strike down the army of the Philistines.”
Try telling that to your army.
“What is your command, oh King?”
“Wait until you hear the wind in the top of the trees.”
Surely they would have thought him a bit crazy, which, perhaps, David was. Crazy about God, the one who had chosen him, an insignificant shepherd boy, to be King of all Israel. Crazy enough to believe that if God said he would send a wind in the trees as a sign that it was time to march to victory, then surely victory would be theirs. Crazy enough to wait for that wind to blow.
He did not question how he would be able to distinguish the wind of God from the every day breeze that blows. This was a man after God’s own heart, a man who made a practice of listening to the voice of God. This was a man who would not find his end on a desolate hill somewhere overlooking Beth-Shen, but rather he was a man to whom God made the promise, “I will establish your Kingdom forever”.
Oh that I might be like David, so in tune with the voice of my Lord that I am willing, at His command, to wait. To give Him time to work. To quell the voice of fear that tells me waiting is foolish, that action is required. To wait until I hear the wind of His spirit blowing, going before, that the victory and glory might be His. May I choose to look towards that Kingdom which is forever, where I will spend eternity with the King of Kings.
Friday, October 30, 2009
What Are You Doing?
“Whatareyoudoing?” Somehow when my little grandson Zach says those words, all run together, it brings a smile to my face, for he is asking gently, out of curiosity. Often it is when I am out of sight, perhaps upstairs as he is finding ways to keep himself busy downstairs. As though in need of reassurance, he simply inquires to know that I am still nearby.
I am sure he has heard those same words often, from the lips of his mama, in a slightly different vein, “Zach…What are you doing?”
You have to know, Zach is an adventurous, busy little fellow who could be up to most anything. Think Curious George. Most likely he has found himself doing something he probably shouldn’t have.
I am so like Zach. I come to my Father and ask, gently, “What are you doing Lord?” Not so much that I might correct Him, but that I might know He is there and has a purpose for what He is doing in my life. Like Zach, I just seek to know and be comforted by the sound of His voice, to know that He is near and watching out for me.
Yet that same voice which has brought comfort and reassurance so many times also asks of me, “Robyn…What are you doing?
And I am reminded that I am but a child whose heart is prone to wander, to lose sight of Him, to find myself caught up in places I ought not go. I pursue my way down footpaths of fear and streets of self-will, tempted to enter rooms of rebellion through doorways of doubt. Like Zach, I sometimes find it hard to be content within the confines of the place I am asked to stay.
And so, like the sweet Psalmist of old, I am thankful that God knows my heart yet loves me still. I welcome the touch of his nail pierced hand.
Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it. Psalm 139.
I am sure he has heard those same words often, from the lips of his mama, in a slightly different vein, “Zach…What are you doing?”
You have to know, Zach is an adventurous, busy little fellow who could be up to most anything. Think Curious George. Most likely he has found himself doing something he probably shouldn’t have.
I am so like Zach. I come to my Father and ask, gently, “What are you doing Lord?” Not so much that I might correct Him, but that I might know He is there and has a purpose for what He is doing in my life. Like Zach, I just seek to know and be comforted by the sound of His voice, to know that He is near and watching out for me.
Yet that same voice which has brought comfort and reassurance so many times also asks of me, “Robyn…What are you doing?
And I am reminded that I am but a child whose heart is prone to wander, to lose sight of Him, to find myself caught up in places I ought not go. I pursue my way down footpaths of fear and streets of self-will, tempted to enter rooms of rebellion through doorways of doubt. Like Zach, I sometimes find it hard to be content within the confines of the place I am asked to stay.
And so, like the sweet Psalmist of old, I am thankful that God knows my heart yet loves me still. I welcome the touch of his nail pierced hand.
Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it. Psalm 139.
Monday, October 26, 2009
A Sweet Fragrance
Had you stepped outside early this morning you would have felt it. The wind was blowing. That in it’s self is not so unusual here in the high desert, but this morning was a rare gift, for it is mid-October yet the morning was warm and beckoning. I could not resist. Quickly I grabbed my cup of coffee and slipped outside to watch the majesty of God’s colors unfold in the rising sun, even as the breeze danced through the tops of the towering pines.
As I was touched by it’s force and embraced by it’s urgent whisper, I was reminded of how Jesus likened the Holy Spirit to the wind, blowing where it will at God’s direction. We feel His touch and hear the sound of His voice, without always realizing from whence it has come. Yet it is that same Spirit which indwells each child of God, blowing in and through us…picking up the fragrance of our heart… allowing the world around us to catch the sweet savor of God emanating from our lives.
How I have longed for that sweet fragrance to be what flows from my life. Yet I am reminded that it only comes in one way. Mary understood this. Just days prior, she had caught a glimpse of eternity, as Jesus had called forth her brother Lazarus from the grave. Life triumphed where death once ruled, but the ultimate victory would only come at a great price.
Jesus had now come to their home at the start of that final week. In just a few short days, all history would climax around the Son of God who willingly became the sacrificial Lamb of God. In adoration and love Mary brought that which was to her, most precious. Sorrow mixed with joy as she knelt at the feet of Jesus, breaking open the alabaster jar she had brought with her for this very purpose. Tenderly she anointed his feet with the oil that spilled forth from the broken vessel. In love she ministered to her Lord, the unmistakable sweet aroma of what she had given to Jesus filling the room.
How I desire that my life might put forth that same fragrance; that the wind of the Spirit might carry it to those who are in need of refreshing. How I desire it, yet how I tremble at the cost. I look for an easy way that I might avoid the breaking. I ask God to release a sweet fragrance even as I remain whole. It cannot be. It is in the breaking process that I find myself at the feet of Jesus. As I minister to Him, others are touched by the overflow of what has been given and is now given back to my Lord and Savior. There is no other way.
And so like Mary, I turn my focus to the One whose body was broken for me. I kneel before the One whose blood was spilled out that I might be saved. I see Him as the one who gave all for me and I know, I can offer no less. And through my tears, I feel the wind begin to blow…..
As I was touched by it’s force and embraced by it’s urgent whisper, I was reminded of how Jesus likened the Holy Spirit to the wind, blowing where it will at God’s direction. We feel His touch and hear the sound of His voice, without always realizing from whence it has come. Yet it is that same Spirit which indwells each child of God, blowing in and through us…picking up the fragrance of our heart… allowing the world around us to catch the sweet savor of God emanating from our lives.
How I have longed for that sweet fragrance to be what flows from my life. Yet I am reminded that it only comes in one way. Mary understood this. Just days prior, she had caught a glimpse of eternity, as Jesus had called forth her brother Lazarus from the grave. Life triumphed where death once ruled, but the ultimate victory would only come at a great price.
Jesus had now come to their home at the start of that final week. In just a few short days, all history would climax around the Son of God who willingly became the sacrificial Lamb of God. In adoration and love Mary brought that which was to her, most precious. Sorrow mixed with joy as she knelt at the feet of Jesus, breaking open the alabaster jar she had brought with her for this very purpose. Tenderly she anointed his feet with the oil that spilled forth from the broken vessel. In love she ministered to her Lord, the unmistakable sweet aroma of what she had given to Jesus filling the room.
How I desire that my life might put forth that same fragrance; that the wind of the Spirit might carry it to those who are in need of refreshing. How I desire it, yet how I tremble at the cost. I look for an easy way that I might avoid the breaking. I ask God to release a sweet fragrance even as I remain whole. It cannot be. It is in the breaking process that I find myself at the feet of Jesus. As I minister to Him, others are touched by the overflow of what has been given and is now given back to my Lord and Savior. There is no other way.
And so like Mary, I turn my focus to the One whose body was broken for me. I kneel before the One whose blood was spilled out that I might be saved. I see Him as the one who gave all for me and I know, I can offer no less. And through my tears, I feel the wind begin to blow…..
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Show Me Your Glory
Moses, who had found favor in God’s sight, Moses of whom God said, “I know you by name”. This same Moses was summoned by God to a place of meeting on the mountain where God promised to show him His glory.
What anticipation must have filled his heart as he awaited the next day’s dawning, for it was in the morning that God had promised to reveal Himself to His humble servant. Alone and in awe he climbed the mountain, pushing upward to the place the Lord commanded. At last he positioned himself in the cleft of the appointed rock, high atop Mt. Sinai, surely wondering to himself, “What will I see as God’s glory passes by?”
Then it happened, “The LORD descended in the cloud and stood with him there, and proclaimed the name of the LORD. The LORD passed before him and proclaimed, “The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty…”
Moses response was as Isaiah’s- and Peter’s- and mine. For once I have seen the true nature of my Lord, once I understand He is a God of righteousness and justice and truth, my only recourse is to run into His arms of mercy and grace, to find shelter in His steadfast love, for that IS the glory of God. Like Moses I bow my head in worship, amazed that the God of all creation would choose to love me and forgive my sin, and to take me for HIS inheritance.
I have seen His glory. For the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” I have known His glory, for I have known and am known by Jesus.
What anticipation must have filled his heart as he awaited the next day’s dawning, for it was in the morning that God had promised to reveal Himself to His humble servant. Alone and in awe he climbed the mountain, pushing upward to the place the Lord commanded. At last he positioned himself in the cleft of the appointed rock, high atop Mt. Sinai, surely wondering to himself, “What will I see as God’s glory passes by?”
Then it happened, “The LORD descended in the cloud and stood with him there, and proclaimed the name of the LORD. The LORD passed before him and proclaimed, “The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty…”
Moses response was as Isaiah’s- and Peter’s- and mine. For once I have seen the true nature of my Lord, once I understand He is a God of righteousness and justice and truth, my only recourse is to run into His arms of mercy and grace, to find shelter in His steadfast love, for that IS the glory of God. Like Moses I bow my head in worship, amazed that the God of all creation would choose to love me and forgive my sin, and to take me for HIS inheritance.
I have seen His glory. For the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” I have known His glory, for I have known and am known by Jesus.
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