It’s Sunday morning. I enter worship waiting expectantly.
I love worship in music. I literally wither away when I am
not singing. It is through singing that my heart is able to commune with my
heavenly Father. In my life, He has used music in countless ways to encourage,
heal and mend. I know when I enter that God will speak to me. I just am not
always prepared for what He wants my heart to learn.
For the last month, my heart has been squeezed. It’s
like a ball of tightly wound up emotions trying to unravel. Worship gives voice
to those emotions. And I have been continually struck with awestruck wonder and
heartache in the last month.
Awestruck wonder because of the simple childlike question
of, “Why?” Why did Christ choose me out of my family? Why did He choose to
protect my heart from leaving Him, even when I wanted to? Why has He pursued
and protected me? Why me? He has not kept me from all things, but two times He has miraculously intervened to thwart death on my behalf. He has protected my heart from becoming hardened towards Him, though Satan wanted a far different outcome. He protected me from my dysfunctional and abusive past and gave me wisdom to see how to prevent repeating the generational cycle.
And heartache because in the midst of my wonder at His
grace, my heart still aches because it is in this world and I must find a way
to reconcile my heart to the reality it refuses to accept. I have no family.
My parents are living in willful sin and rebellion against God. They don’t
think that they need to repent, yet they parade around as the Pharisees did
believing that their motives and acts of service will somehow fool either
themselves or others of their lack of genuine faith. I have never been able to
experience reconciliation with them, though I have tried a thousand times (and
that would not be an exaggeration!). Christ chose me, yes. But I had to leave
my family behind in order to follow Him. Like Lot's wife, I was looking back on "the former life" yearning for a family I would never have. It was an idol. And I had to forsake them so that I could devote my heart to the Savior of it.
Sunday brought a constant flow of tears. Being encouraged to
remember His love for me, makes me cry. How can I need anything else? But yet
my heart yearns for the warmth of family and is continually reminded how very
desperately I miss my Grandma.
I sang the honor of the One who plucked me out of mire,
shame and misery and saved me. And my mind was lost in prayer as I poured out
this song, remembering how Jesus Himself visited me the night I was going to
die. And I couldn’t get the image of Him sitting there by the gates of heaven
telling me it wasn’t time for me to go home yet.
Living He loved me, Dying He saved me,
Buried He carried my sin far away, Rising He justified…
Justified. That word, though I fully understand its
theological applications, makes my heart yearn for justice of my own. And
wondering, “When will it come, Lord?” Then my heart is taken back to
thankfulness that I did not receive the justice that I deserved.
Thankfulness and heartache. Reverence and wanting justice.
Love and hurt. Relationship and loneliness. These are the themes that are
within my heart in the past month.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CoxopsRSfdU
Makarios.
Matthew 5:3
Good for you for breaking the cycle. I too wonder why God chooses to bless me so much. Some of it is in part owing to wise choices we make, but some of it is obvious blessings that I had nothing to do with. The answer is that He loves us, but I have yet to comprehend the depth and reason for that love. It has taught me to be more forgiving of other people however, and more compassionate. So maybe that's another reason why. :)
ReplyDeleteI just love you! I am sorry we don't get to talk as much as we need to. I will try to be better at that. I love your heart and your willingness, despite all odds, to follow the Lord will all your heart. Greater things are yet to come my dear friend and sister!
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