This is the twenty-sixth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.
December 1, 2009
Do I know you Lord? I have read about you, taught about you, given my life to you…but do I know you? Is that what you are doing in this time? Are you taking that which I perceive to be difficult and fearful and using it to reveal yourself to me?
This I know, Lord, in the darkness of night when fear closes in, when even my very breath seems to ebb, it is your name I cry sweet Jesus. Men and medicine cannot bring the help I ultimately need. I need the help that comes from knowing that you and you alone are my keeper (Psalm 121). Because of you “the moon shall not stumble me by night…you will keep me from evil…you will keep my life”.
The nights are hard, Lord, it is in the hour of darkness when my body betrays me. I will cling to your promise…tonight…that the moon shall not strike me…that darkness will not cause my body to react in fear…that you ARE the keeper of my life.
Do I know you Lord? I do, in part, and yet you would have me to know you more. For in knowing comes trust and in trust, is rest. I am laboring, Lord, laboring to enter into your rest. Dispel my unbelief. I believe that you have saved me and that you can heal me. May I rest in your steadfast love, in who you are, in knowing that you do all things well.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
If It Be Possible
This is the twenty-fifth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.
November 30, 2009
“If it be possible….” These were the words that you spoke to your father, Jesus. These are the words I echo in prayer this morning. For you, Jesus, there could be no other way, for you came to purchase my salvation and the salvation of all who would be given you by your Father. For the first time, in my illness, in my test of health, in my fear of knowing what may lie ahead, I am reminded again of how human you were. For the first time I grasp a small understanding of what caused you to be sorrowful and troubled. Surely in your humanity there was a desire not to have to walk through the pain which lay ahead. And so you prayed, “If there be any other way….”
That is my prayer this morning Father. I catch a glimpse of the pain I might have to walk through and I am troubled, fearful, I tremble at the specter of that journey and the death that may follow. To say I have no fear would be to lie, to sin. Like Jesus said to his disciples, there, in the garden, “The Spirit is willing, but my flesh…..ah Lord…it is so weak.”
I do not want to be tempted to walk away from what you may ask. I need you Lord, I need to seek your face, to kneel before you, that I might once again be strengthened by you. It was in his time with you, Father, that Jesus found strength and purpose, the ability to go forward.
I do ask…if it be possible, let this cup pass. If there is something you can accomplish only in this, give me a heart that is willing to say, “Your will be done.” And then give me the understanding it is of you when the time is at hand to walk through it.
Your will is a mystery at times, on Lord. Until you speak else wise, I will continue to petition you, to ask you to heal me…even as I ask that of you now. Remove the nodule, the growth, let this cup pass from me.
I cry out to you, my Father. Give strength to my flesh that I might be found crying out to you ever more.
November 30, 2009
“If it be possible….” These were the words that you spoke to your father, Jesus. These are the words I echo in prayer this morning. For you, Jesus, there could be no other way, for you came to purchase my salvation and the salvation of all who would be given you by your Father. For the first time, in my illness, in my test of health, in my fear of knowing what may lie ahead, I am reminded again of how human you were. For the first time I grasp a small understanding of what caused you to be sorrowful and troubled. Surely in your humanity there was a desire not to have to walk through the pain which lay ahead. And so you prayed, “If there be any other way….”
That is my prayer this morning Father. I catch a glimpse of the pain I might have to walk through and I am troubled, fearful, I tremble at the specter of that journey and the death that may follow. To say I have no fear would be to lie, to sin. Like Jesus said to his disciples, there, in the garden, “The Spirit is willing, but my flesh…..ah Lord…it is so weak.”
I do not want to be tempted to walk away from what you may ask. I need you Lord, I need to seek your face, to kneel before you, that I might once again be strengthened by you. It was in his time with you, Father, that Jesus found strength and purpose, the ability to go forward.
I do ask…if it be possible, let this cup pass. If there is something you can accomplish only in this, give me a heart that is willing to say, “Your will be done.” And then give me the understanding it is of you when the time is at hand to walk through it.
Your will is a mystery at times, on Lord. Until you speak else wise, I will continue to petition you, to ask you to heal me…even as I ask that of you now. Remove the nodule, the growth, let this cup pass from me.
I cry out to you, my Father. Give strength to my flesh that I might be found crying out to you ever more.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
A Beginning and An End
This is the twenty-fourth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.
November 19, 2009
Am I hearing you, Lord? Sweet whispers again, last night following Brett’s teaching and during communion, “It has a beginning and an end.”
Just as Isaiah had a mission, a purpose, a directive, difficult and humiliating though it was, it was something he would always be remembered for; having to walk naked and exposed before the people. And then there is Ezekial, directed by God to lie on his side for 390 days, then 40 on the next…to eat food cooked over dung…illogical to my mind yet filled with purpose in the mind of God.
Sitting there at your feet last night, remembering your purpose Jesus, the shedding of your blood, the breaking of your body, you spoke to my heart. “This is my purpose for you, Robyn. You may not understand, you may feel open and exposed and very uncomfortable…it may not seem logical…but it IS my purpose. This is how you are to be about the Father’s business. Walk through this. It has a beginning AND it has an end. You will arise and walk forth from it.”
I heard hope in that Lord, did I hear you correctly? This will have an end, as that of Isaiah and Ezekial, an end here while I am yet “in the land of the living”. O Lord, confirm that in my heart. For today it has given me hope and comfort, knowing that this season may be difficult, but I will live and remain to tell of it.
You are using this that you have given to reveal to me more of you and more of my own heart…how wide is that chasm, Lord. I plead as David of old, “Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.”
Use this Lord to break me, to shape me, to make me over into your image. May my heart ever be tender towards those who walk a similar path. May your Spirit flow forth from this wounded body with healing water that refreshes all who pass by.
May the season of pain, of wondering, of fear pass, but may that which it produces remain forever.
Amen and Amen.
November 19, 2009
Am I hearing you, Lord? Sweet whispers again, last night following Brett’s teaching and during communion, “It has a beginning and an end.”
Just as Isaiah had a mission, a purpose, a directive, difficult and humiliating though it was, it was something he would always be remembered for; having to walk naked and exposed before the people. And then there is Ezekial, directed by God to lie on his side for 390 days, then 40 on the next…to eat food cooked over dung…illogical to my mind yet filled with purpose in the mind of God.
Sitting there at your feet last night, remembering your purpose Jesus, the shedding of your blood, the breaking of your body, you spoke to my heart. “This is my purpose for you, Robyn. You may not understand, you may feel open and exposed and very uncomfortable…it may not seem logical…but it IS my purpose. This is how you are to be about the Father’s business. Walk through this. It has a beginning AND it has an end. You will arise and walk forth from it.”
I heard hope in that Lord, did I hear you correctly? This will have an end, as that of Isaiah and Ezekial, an end here while I am yet “in the land of the living”. O Lord, confirm that in my heart. For today it has given me hope and comfort, knowing that this season may be difficult, but I will live and remain to tell of it.
You are using this that you have given to reveal to me more of you and more of my own heart…how wide is that chasm, Lord. I plead as David of old, “Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.”
Use this Lord to break me, to shape me, to make me over into your image. May my heart ever be tender towards those who walk a similar path. May your Spirit flow forth from this wounded body with healing water that refreshes all who pass by.
May the season of pain, of wondering, of fear pass, but may that which it produces remain forever.
Amen and Amen.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
In The Midst of November
This is the twenty-third in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.
November 17, 2009
What a difference an hour with you can make, my precious Lord. Agitated and weary I awoke this morning, unable to focus on you or your Word. And then you beckoned, ”Step outside…the wind is blowing, the sun is about to rise.”
Who would deem it possible that you could refresh my soul out doors on a mid-November morning in Bend?
Fresh, light rain had kissed the earth, washing away the remnants of yesterdays snow and dust. The earth was drinking it in, just as my soul was drinking in of your mercies which touch my soul like the rain.
The wind was blowing strong, forewarning of a storm to come, but there was such strength and majesty in that breeze….a promise that you are there, in the storm.
Clouds scurried across the sky at your command, hurrying to make way for the arrival of the sun. It was though you had orchestrated another glorious sunrise for an audience of one. As though you were reminding me….there are many more to come.
Light filtered through the towering pines, such glory! A prayer filled my heart, “May your light shine through me oh God, that others might see the awesome design of your Spirit.”
And finally….there was my precious little flower patch, and in amazement I saw there were still blooms in the midst of November. A promise from you Lord, that in even in the coldest seasons, the life which is born of you never withers or fades. As I abide in you, no matter the season, you bring life and laughter and love….always.
November 17, 2009
What a difference an hour with you can make, my precious Lord. Agitated and weary I awoke this morning, unable to focus on you or your Word. And then you beckoned, ”Step outside…the wind is blowing, the sun is about to rise.”
Who would deem it possible that you could refresh my soul out doors on a mid-November morning in Bend?
Fresh, light rain had kissed the earth, washing away the remnants of yesterdays snow and dust. The earth was drinking it in, just as my soul was drinking in of your mercies which touch my soul like the rain.
The wind was blowing strong, forewarning of a storm to come, but there was such strength and majesty in that breeze….a promise that you are there, in the storm.
Clouds scurried across the sky at your command, hurrying to make way for the arrival of the sun. It was though you had orchestrated another glorious sunrise for an audience of one. As though you were reminding me….there are many more to come.
Light filtered through the towering pines, such glory! A prayer filled my heart, “May your light shine through me oh God, that others might see the awesome design of your Spirit.”
And finally….there was my precious little flower patch, and in amazement I saw there were still blooms in the midst of November. A promise from you Lord, that in even in the coldest seasons, the life which is born of you never withers or fades. As I abide in you, no matter the season, you bring life and laughter and love….always.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Guilty Wanderers
This is the twenty-second in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.
November 16, 2009
Psalm 107 strikes deep within my soul. Wanderers....rebellious fools...wilfull sinners....world travelers in the pursuit of business….what an unlikely lot. Guilty all in their own ways. United by a common thread in this Psalm….they all cried out to you and you delivered them. Why? Because of your steadfast love.
I too Lord have wandered in rebellion, willfully pursing sin and chasing the ways of the world. But Jesus!
Oh Lord, where would I be had you not reached down in your great love and drawn me in at an early age. You have been faithful these many years, even when my faith has faltered.
I praise you, my Lord. I thank you my God. Your steadfast love endures forever.
“Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever! Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man! For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things.”
November 16, 2009
Psalm 107 strikes deep within my soul. Wanderers....rebellious fools...wilfull sinners....world travelers in the pursuit of business….what an unlikely lot. Guilty all in their own ways. United by a common thread in this Psalm….they all cried out to you and you delivered them. Why? Because of your steadfast love.
I too Lord have wandered in rebellion, willfully pursing sin and chasing the ways of the world. But Jesus!
Oh Lord, where would I be had you not reached down in your great love and drawn me in at an early age. You have been faithful these many years, even when my faith has faltered.
I praise you, my Lord. I thank you my God. Your steadfast love endures forever.
“Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever! Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man! For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things.”
Monday, June 21, 2010
If It Costs Me Everything
This is the twenty-first in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.
November 15, 2009
“I’ll obey and serve you. I’ll obey because I love you. I’ll obey, my life is in your hands. This is the way to prove my love when feelings go astray. If it costs me everything, I’ll obey.”
Words so easy to sing Lord, when my idea of “everything” is my earthly possessions, my position, my place. Somehow, before this morning, it never occurred to me that everything means even my very life. You caught me unawares this morning, questioning me so directly. If my obedience was meant to bring death, not life (in this world), would I still obey?
Oh God….that touches something deep in my soul…it is a struggle for my will. At its base….you are asking me….do I love you more than life itself? To answer that question is to answer both, for if I love you more than anything, even my life, then I will obey you in all things, though it might mean death.
My thoughts are in turmoil, working to understand the challenge you present. Like Peter, I know my heart and you know it as well. Am I one who “loves not my life unto death?” I see you Lord. I understand that you were “obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”
How can I ask for any less or more? I only ask that you plainly let me know your command, your will, that I might obey and follow you, Lord. Teach me your ways, may I be a sheep who knows your voice and will follow, unconditionally, wherever you lead.
November 15, 2009
“I’ll obey and serve you. I’ll obey because I love you. I’ll obey, my life is in your hands. This is the way to prove my love when feelings go astray. If it costs me everything, I’ll obey.”
Words so easy to sing Lord, when my idea of “everything” is my earthly possessions, my position, my place. Somehow, before this morning, it never occurred to me that everything means even my very life. You caught me unawares this morning, questioning me so directly. If my obedience was meant to bring death, not life (in this world), would I still obey?
Oh God….that touches something deep in my soul…it is a struggle for my will. At its base….you are asking me….do I love you more than life itself? To answer that question is to answer both, for if I love you more than anything, even my life, then I will obey you in all things, though it might mean death.
My thoughts are in turmoil, working to understand the challenge you present. Like Peter, I know my heart and you know it as well. Am I one who “loves not my life unto death?” I see you Lord. I understand that you were “obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”
How can I ask for any less or more? I only ask that you plainly let me know your command, your will, that I might obey and follow you, Lord. Teach me your ways, may I be a sheep who knows your voice and will follow, unconditionally, wherever you lead.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
If It Is You
This is the twentieth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.
“Lord, if it is you…command me to come.”
Who but Jesus could have come, walking on the water? Yet Peter needed the reassurance, “Lord, IF it is you, command me”.
You didn’t chide. You didn’t ignore. You didn’t walk away. You simply met Peter at the place of his faith and you said, “Come”.
I am as Peter, Lord. Four weeks ago the storm began to rage, fear filled my heart. Three weeks ago you came, as I peered out into the darkness of the unknown, anxious only to be safely on the shore. “Calm the storm”, was my prayer. Rescue me, as you have done so many times before. But not this time, not yet. As I cried out to you… seeking your comfort…. seeking only to be with you, you led me to know you were out on the water. Would I recognize you in the storm?
“Wait!” This was you’re a command. “Give me room to work,” was your admonition.
“Obey.”
For Peter to obey was to step out….for me, to obey, is to step back. For both of us, the storm still rages….all that holds us is having our eyes fixed on you. Oh Lord, when I am tempted to look around, when I am tempted to ask you to silence the wind and waves…when I am tempted to ask again if it is really you, let me hear your voice, let me fix my gaze upon you.
Draw me Lord, may my desire for you be greater than my fear of all that surrounds me.
“Lord, if it is you…command me to come.”
Who but Jesus could have come, walking on the water? Yet Peter needed the reassurance, “Lord, IF it is you, command me”.
You didn’t chide. You didn’t ignore. You didn’t walk away. You simply met Peter at the place of his faith and you said, “Come”.
I am as Peter, Lord. Four weeks ago the storm began to rage, fear filled my heart. Three weeks ago you came, as I peered out into the darkness of the unknown, anxious only to be safely on the shore. “Calm the storm”, was my prayer. Rescue me, as you have done so many times before. But not this time, not yet. As I cried out to you… seeking your comfort…. seeking only to be with you, you led me to know you were out on the water. Would I recognize you in the storm?
“Wait!” This was you’re a command. “Give me room to work,” was your admonition.
“Obey.”
For Peter to obey was to step out….for me, to obey, is to step back. For both of us, the storm still rages….all that holds us is having our eyes fixed on you. Oh Lord, when I am tempted to look around, when I am tempted to ask you to silence the wind and waves…when I am tempted to ask again if it is really you, let me hear your voice, let me fix my gaze upon you.
Draw me Lord, may my desire for you be greater than my fear of all that surrounds me.
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