the meekest one

In the beginning was the Word of God incarnate. The Word took a physical body and lived with us. He was light shining in the darkness, hope in the face of despair, love blooming in hate, beauty in squallor, perfection in brokenness, God walking and living on earth. We rejected Him because we loved darkness. Our hearts embraced death when crucified the Life.

But because of His submission to the Father's will that He should suffer, He brought life from death; and by His unprecedented love for us, He gave to us the gift of freedom through pouring out His blood. All we have to do is believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and confess His lordship with our mouths, and we are free from the condemning law of sin. This is the simple message of salvation.

1 Peter 2:23 captures the message I'm trying (and often failing--thank You, Lord, for grace!) to learn:

When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered,
he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly.

I've read that so glibly and so thoughtlessly in the past, without coming to terms with the vastness of what it means. The Word of God was silent. He spoke the universe into existance; the creative nature of His very breath animated dust and formed man, and yet He was silent.

Louis Giglio's message, "How Great is Our God" has helped to pull things into perspective for me so much about how big God is, and how small we (well..."I" anyway) try to make Him. We live in a universe with stars trillions of light-years away--places so distant that we would die before ever arriving there, and yet He's greater still. Deuteronomy 33:27 says that God is our refuge, and the strength of His arms upholds us forever. The fullness of this enormous, mind-blowing God was in the One we chose to kill; and He accepted it without comment.

It will take a lifetime to understand this sacrifice. My biggest struggle in life is the desire to defend myself; it's an urge that surfaces when I'm wrong, but even more so when I'm right. Yet Isaiah 53 tells me that the Jesus after whom I strive to pattern my life made no protest when we mistreated Him. He embraced the cross in silence for me. If He did it, He expects us to follow His lead when we crucify our flesh. Ouch.

The lens of Easter was still fresh in my mind when I was reading in Psalms this morning, and I found myself tearing up over this verse:

Commit your way to the LORD; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your
righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday
sun. Psalm 37:5-6

This must have been such a comfort to Jesus in His life on earth. The context of verse 6 is that of the vindicating God. The Father is seeking those who will willingly lay down our right to be right and trust Him in the face of others misunderstanding us. He has covanented with us that if we will just trust Him with our reputations and quit trying to defend ourselves, we will shine in the light of His glory like the summer sun at noon.

The process of meekness is difficult. Our flesh never wants to take the lowest road; but God truly does give grace to be humble. If you're anything like me, it's a process of daily (sometimes hourly) confessing to the Lord that you've cared more for man's opinion than for His and allowed the fear of man to dictate your decisions--but He's so kind and so tender in our brokenness.

May the beauty of His relationship overwhelm your heart yet again today, friends. Blessings in Jesus' name.

hard task-master or jealous lover?

http://chrystalf.wordpress.com/2010/01/04/master-or-lover/


So I attended the Onething09 conference in Kansas City, Missouri on December 28-31. God encountered my heart in so many ways that I'm still trying to process it all. However, one teaching in particular has been turning over in my spirit since my return home. On Thursday, Allen Hood (prompted by the Holy Spirit) stood at the end of the morning session to give a brief teaching on Isaiah 6--ten minutes that radically shifted my paradigm of God. What follows is partly what he said and partly what I've discovered from researching what he said....but it's all gone together so I'm not going to try to distinguish between his words and mine.

In the year Uzziah died, Isaiah had a revelation of the Lord. Leviticus 16:2, 12-14 tell us that in that in the days Isaiah lived, the priest could not come into the glory of the Lord without a cloud of incense between himself and the glory, or he would die. This incense had to be of a certain scent/aroma and had to be lit by a coal from the altar outside of the most holy place in order for God to receive it.

When Isaiah received his revelation of the Lord, he was protected even though he was not the high priest because the Lord allowed smoke to fill His temple (Is. 6:4) shielding Isaiah from the glory. When Isaiah lamented his unclean lips in response, the angel went and took a burning coal from the altar and touched Isaiah's lips. Instantly Isaiah became a living censer to stand between the people and the glory and offer the fragrant incense of prayer and faithful prophetic utterance so the glory of the Lord would not totally destroy the people.

Habbakuk tells us that the earth will one day be filled with the knowledge of the glory of God. Isaiah 6:3 says the angels cried to each other that the earth is filled with God's glory. At the end of the Millennium, the holy city is going to come down to the earth for God will dwell with men, and the Lamb will be the light for there will no longer be sun, moon or stars. The Father is stirring the hearts of the intercessors worldwide to begin blanketing the earth with the sweet incense of prayer before Him because His glory is coming. The truest sign that we have entered the last days is that there are hundreds and thousands of people in the earth who have taken up the mantle of full-time intercessors restoring the worship movement outlined by the tabernacle of David (which Nehemiah and Hezekiah also restored before revival broke out in their time); God is coming to the earth and He is stirring the hearts of His people to begin making it ready for Him.

I found myself weeping Saturday night over how much I've misjudged God. I want to reread the Old Testament with a new perspective. God cannot change who He is--and Psalms tell us that He is the King of Glory. His perceived "strike them dead" anger in the Old Testament was, in reality, His passionate desire to be with them. How hard that must have been on Him to be so enraptured by a people that He longed to go and dwell in their midst, and yet could not without the impossible standard of the law in place to protect them from the fullness of who He is.

Even now, we cannot move into intimacy with Him without the protective shield of the blood and the fragrant offering of prayer. What a testimony of His kindness that the way is easier for us now than it was then. The standards of Leviticus were not God being a hard task-master. Through the law He was simply saying: "This is what it takes to get into My presence and survive....please do this because I long to be with you and I know that My coming to you on your terms will kill you."

I've also thought about how God said that any man who made incense of the same fragrance of that used before Him for his own pleasure must be cut off from the people (Ex. 30:38). This was not a "strike them dead" kind of sin, but yet was serious enough that the man should be alienated from everyone else.

God has a scent. While the incense that was offered up to Him from the tabernacle was pleasing for Him, He also wanted this scent reminded the people of nothing but Him. If another man made it to burn for his own pleasure, the smell of that would invade the tents around him, too, causing others to associate the aroma with man and not God. The strength of His love said, "I want to evoke desire in you for Me alone with this fragrance. I want the pleasing smell of this incense to remind you of My goodness to you and your children. Don't cheapen it. It's special between us."

I wonder what else in our lives that we've considered to be God's cruelty are actually expressions of His longing for us. Thoughts?

battle scars and racing stripes

I was in an in-between, "sort of" dialogue with the Lord earlier today--meaning I was halfway praying and partly complaining, and He inserted Himself into my musings.

Let me be frank from the beginning and admit that I sometimes think He's unfair. Lately, I've resented His dealings with me and even entertained the thought that He is unjust and untrustworthy. It is only a testimony of His kindness that He hasn't blasted me with a "where were you when I...?" confrontation like he did Job.

The subject on my mind at this particular time was how bruised and scarred He allows His children to become through the spectrum of day-to-day knockings of life, to absolute tragedies. Where is justice for the oppressed? Why allow life to lacerate the fragile souls of men and women with wounds that never completely disappear? Scars are unattractive, and most of us go to great lengths to hide or decrease their appearance.

And then I heard Him: You see scars; I see racing stripes.

Lord, that makes absolutely no sense. Scars don't make us go any faster.

I began trying to rationalize the connection between stripes and scars, thinking about Jesus' sacrifice for us, and about how generals have to earn their stripes through tests; and while both parallels had merit, I couldn't get away from "racing stripes." After debating on it for several minutes, I turned to Google to find out if there was any significance to racing stripes other than an aesthetic one.

What I learned is that racing stripes initially served a practical purpose before they became a fashion trend.

"Racing Stripes" (also called "Rally Stripes") were originally applied to the hood of closed-wheel race cars so as to provide a straight line in alignment with the dricer's [sic] line od [sic] sight. Contrasting colors were used, and they assisted the driver in determining the direction of a car in the event of a spin, when tire smoke or dust could cause temporary disorientation." ~Shelby "Le Mans" Stripe Dimensions

Life can be disorienting. All too often, circumstances can cloud our judgment to where we can't even see the hand of the Lord working on our behalf. And to those who He seeks to accelerate in the race we run, He often grants the greatest searing of scars. These are not to disfigure us or to embitter us. Rather, they are tangible arrows pointing to His grace at leading us through past trials when we can't see Him in our temporary blindness. We align our scars with the path of His written word and find the strength not only to stand in faith that we will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living, (Psalm 27:13), but also to continue to press on until we see the light again.

weight of the Word

Scripture is God-breathed, God-inspired, God-orchestrated. It encourages and convicts. It pierces and divides, weighing motives and analyzing intentions. The power of intercession and the glory of the intercessor comes in learning to speak the Word written on our hearts. Intercession, at its foundational level, is simply conversing with God about what He's said.

What has blessed me so much today has been thinking about the weightiness of quoting Scripture. I know sometimes I've been guilty of falling in to the glib, sing-song recital approach of, "GodsolovedtheworldthatHegave. . . ." Make time. Get through it. Say it as fast as you can so you can move on to something else. Yeah...really spiritual, I know.

God honors His Word so much that He stakes His reputation on it. Think about it. He keeps His promises for His Name's sake. He forgives our sin for His Name's sake. The nature of grace is that it's all on Him--He extends it to us because of His desire for us. The full weight of His authority is behind His word. When we quote Scripture, we are exercising His delegated authority to us.

I think about the weight of the world that rested on the shoulders of Jesus as He approached the cross. Isaiah 53 tells us that He was utterly despised and rejected, totally familiar with grief, personally acquainted with sorrow. No man has ever suffered the depth to which He went. No man ever will. Jesus not only lived a holy life--He was holiness personified. There was no justifiable reason to punish Him--no one-time mistake that made the cross make sense. He died knowing He was innocent, knowing He had both the right and the power to save Himself, and choosing not to.

By His choice, we have accepted a lighter burden--that of covenant and relationship. The weight that rests on us now is the mantel of authority in brokenness, Holy Spirit power in weakness, honor in going low. May we arise as a Bride with the words of our Beloved springing up from hearts radically in love and into mouths purified and ready to speak the truth in love.

The Just Judge

I finished reading through Leviticus this week, and I have to admit, I didn't enjoy the book any more than I expected to. One good thing, though, is that reading through the weight of the law put me in a proper perspective to appreciate Pastor's sermon on grace on Sunday (and God further emphasized the power of covenant over law to me when I skimmed through the book of Hebrews this morning). Sometimes I struggle to reconcile the God of love--the intimate Father whose voice I recognize--with the rule-imposing, strike-them-down-with-plague God in Exodus and Leviticus. I know that He is the same throughout history, but it's often hard for me to see His love through the burden of the law.

Perhaps because I'm a woman and therefore concerned about God's relation to women, or perhaps because I love babies, the requirements for a woman's purification after childbirth in Leviticus 12 grabbed my attention. My heart hurt to read that the time required for purification after childbirth was doubled when the woman had a female child. Is this really how You see us, God? Were women so far beneath Your esteem that our very births were cursed?

Fortunately for me, the Lord led me to an online blog that gave me a new perspective. One of the things that the author suggested was that the issue with the birth wasn't so much about a curse as it was about future gender roles. The purification sacrifice that the woman had to offer to be clean again was the same regardless of whether she gave birth to a boy or a girl; she didn't have to bring a bigger sacrifice for having a female child.

However, the time she was "unclean" was time she spent bonding with her newborn infant. The male child would enter into the covenant through circumcision eight days after his birth, and then embark on a journey into manhood with all the duties and responsibilities that entailed--duties and responsibilities he would learn from his father and from other men in his life. The female child, however, would be more dependent on her mother to teach her how to become a woman. The time allotted for a mother to bond with her female child was longer, setting up the foundation for their future relationship.

In the end, I learned that what I thought was God's displeasure against women was actually His blessing. How true this is in my own life. I complain against a perceived burden only to discover in time that it is really a blessing.

Billy Humphreys from the International House of Prayer in Kansas City, Missouri, said something recently talking about the story of the unjust judge that really blessed me. The paraphrased version is this: If an unjust judge would finally grant justice to a widow because of her persistence, how much more will a God established in justice respond to the prayers of His bride?

He's just, He's faithful, and He loves you. Don't stop praying.

speak up already!

I'm reading in Leviticus at the moment, and one thing that struck me was early in chapter 5, which reads:

If a person sins because he does not speak up when he hears a public charge to testify regarding something he has seen or learned about, he will be held responsible. (Lev. 5:1)

This is one of the instructions that God gave to Moses when the two of them met together before the Tent of Meeting just after Moses received the Ten Commandments for the second time. God, in His mercy, was setting up a way for His people to walk with Him, despite the weight of the curse on their lives.

What's interesting to me, though, is that this particular "offense" wasn't based on what someone said, but on what they did not say. God viewed silence as sternly as He did outright deception.

Kinda like witnessing, huh? The terror's coming, and the blood is on the hands of the corporate church as a whole for our lethargic and dismissive attitude.

Thank the Lord for grace. He continues to give us opportunities to make up for the ones we squander because He is love at His core. Love by definition. Love in His entirety.

I've come away sobered and challenged again to speak, and pray that the Word would go forth with boldness. He will release His Word in power and authority through those who take the time to listen and snatch the opportunity to speak. My heart is so convicted yet again for the tendency I have to lose focus in the petty things (even when I think I'm not). Am I wrapped up in the "persecution" of that person who makes it a priority to disagree with me at any given opportunity, or am I meditating on Scripture, thanking the Lord for the lesson in humility, and moving forward in grace?

Don't miss a chance to speak up. May God grant unto you a spirit of boldness and power.

Much love.

sin or standard?

I was 'trolling' through a friend's pictures on facebook recently. Actually, I suppose you could call this person more like an acquaintance now because we haven't had an actual conversation in years, nor do we live in the same area anymore. At any rate, a few of the pictures seemed to indicate that my friend no longer held some of the standards I once thought we shared.

With some chagrin, I must admit to jumping to snap conclusions and quietly judging my former friend in my heart. I also must 'fess up to feeling a fleeting dart of self-righteous pride, because I hadn't waivered in my convictions, unlike some people. And of course, there was that underlying disappointment, as though my friend had let me down personally for not believing just like I did.

As you may imagine, the Holy Spirit dealt with me pretty quickly on that one...

What came out of our little chat was me musing over the nature of sin versus standards. Of course, our desire should be to live as close to Jesus as we can, and not to try and live as close to the line as we can. The Lord's requirements for how we are to live our lives vary according to our specific callings and ministries. However, we can get caught up in judging each other when one person's version of "living close" is different than ours.

Some friends and I were discussing Hebrews 10 last night, and gripped with the sobering reality of verses 26-27:

If we deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth, no sacrifice for sins is left, but only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God. (Heb. 10:26-27)

Obviously, the Lord is very serious about deliberate sin, and our attitude toward sin. But where do we draw the line between sin and standards? Do we sin when we break a personal standard that might not be a requirement of someone else, or is sin, sin across the board? What do you think? And do you have a list of absolutes for your own life?

i can do...anything.

I spent some time in Philippians this morning, pausing to smile over the familiar passage in Philippians 4:13.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

I wish I could remember how old I was when I first memorized that verse. In my family, it was one of those “bedrock” verses that you learned early, right up there beside John 3:16 and Romans 8:28. God often shakes me out of self-satisfied, complacent Christianity by choosing to speak to me through something I’ve read a thousand times. I’ll spend hours scouring through some obscure passage in Nahum searching for a revelation only to hear His voice come crashing through my circumstances and into my heart through John 8:32 (another one I memorized as a child, though this one was largely due to the fact that my dad preached several sermons on it).

What captivated me this morning was the context of Philippians 4:13. Paul is talking about the kindness of the Philippians, and how often they blessed him with gifts when he was in need. He then rushes to assure them that his praise for their generosity is not a hint that he needed anything, saying that he had learned to be content regardless of his situation.

God is pressing me toward gratitude on a daily basis. I get it more on some days than others. Paul’s statement—that he learned to be grateful in all things—blessed me so much because it is after saying this that he writes Philippians 4:13. His contentedness was not an easy thing. He had to learn it. He had to persevere to gratitude. And it was only through the strength of Christ that he had the grace to be content.

I often feel dissatisfied and unhappy with my life. Invariably, after I express my dissatisfaction, I begin to feel condemned for being ungrateful. While I never want to minimize the convicting power of the Holy Spirit, or excuse poor behavior that stems from an ungrateful heart, the Lord reminded me this morning that it’s only by His power that I am able to see the good in all things. Wallowing in how much I “missed it” the day before will only hinder me from progressing today. My only option is to press delete on the past and keep going.

I choose to be grateful. On some days I will be more successful than on others. Some days will be easier than others. What matters is if I keep going, beating my ungrateful nature into submission and fixing my eyes on the ultimate goal.

If we keep going, we win.

missing you...

Things have felt a little distant this week with the one my heart loves. I've been helping out with Vacation Bible School at the church every night, so we haven't exactly had the time together I'm used to. I know there's no condemnation there, even though it's entirely my fault, but part of me feels so lost.

He's been part of every thought, ever breath, every action. I throw out numerous 30-second prayers His direction all through the day. I listen to live worship from the IHOP prayer room almost constantly. I've spent large parts of every evening this week telling thirty children about His attributes, singing about how He's always with us...even memorizing small slices from His Word. Isn't it funny how sometimes it feels like the more we talk about Him, the more distant we feel from Him?

I guess it's like any other relationship--there's no substitute for quality time (especially when that's one of your primary love languages). It's difficult to sustain intimacy in marriage if both parties don't make it a point to stay connected. Telling everyone about your husband's amazing qualities is no substitute for snatching up the moment to stop and listen to his heart. Nothing better communicates how greatly you value a person than making a point to shut down all outside interferences and give your full attention.

So much of our communicating is non-verbal. In my quest to become a better woman, there's a whole list of things about which I'm trying to become more aware when I interact with other people. How consistent am I at ignoring cellphone interruptions in one-on-one conversations? How often do I multi-task? How often do I interrupt? How often do I respond to something the other person said with a noncommittal one-liner and then change the subject? All of these are pet peeves of mine in other people--and yet, each is a personality trait I possess.

What becomes painful to notice, however, is how often I behave this way toward Him--cutting short our time together, responding to interruptions, making it all about me when we talk. He's always so patient with me, giving me such grace when, in my frailty, I miss it yet again. The Holy Spirit always comes again to breathe fire on my heart once again and prod me forward in passion and in love. Sometimes I just wish it wasn't necessary. What would it be like to live in a constant state of zeal--to never go through those seasons where my heart is cold? I was laughing with some friends yesterday that I seem to hit a dry spell every Thursday, and it tends to last until mid-Saturday afternoon. Weariness? Perhaps. Unwanted? Entirely.

I've jumped around a lot in this one, and I'm not even sure I've said what I meant to say. Maybe what I should have done from the beginning is this:

...I miss You. I miss just sitting in silence with You in perfect camaraderie. I know You're reading this, because You've already written in my heart what to say. All my words come from You. All my seasons are in Your hands. Draw me away.

eyes to see and ears to hear

I've been contending lately for an increase in prophetic anointing in my life. With creation groaning in the birth pains of the end times, sometimes it's helpful to stop and remember the promise of a massive revival that is coming as well. I want greater discernment in dreams in the night. I want visions during the day. I long to see into the Spirit, even as Elisha prayed that the Lord would open his servant's eyes to see the chariots of fire surrounding them.

I love the gentle promise of Matthew 5:8: Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. I don't believe this is just limited to the coming of the Millenial Reign of Christ, although I do believe it will reach its fulfillment at that time when we no longer "see through a glass dimly." But I pray even now for a spirit of wisdom and revelation in my life, to see and know the times, to press into seeing the Lord.

So much of "religion" has left a bad taste in our mouths with its lists of requirements. The truth is simply this--I am under grace, and nothing is off limits. I do not restrict my actions to make myself "worthy" of salvation. Nothing I do will ever manage that. The standard to which I hold myself stems from a longing to see God. I crucify my flesh, make myself of no reputation, forgive those who wrongfully abuse me, ignore potential offenses, love without expecting anything in return, speak about my faith even to those who do not wish to hear, guard my heart, filter what enters my eye/ear gates, and strive to be perfect even as He is perfect because I am lovesick, and starving to see Him.

What's it worth to you?

where are the heroes?

Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate. ~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship

I've been meditating some what James calls "true religion" in his book--to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world. The word used for distress here is "thlipsis" which is also translated "tribulation" and "affliction." It is the same word that John used when he spoke of the saints coming out of great tribulation in Revelation 7.

It's interesting to me that James would draw such a comparison. Could it be that God views injustice to those who cannot defend themselves on the same level as physical violence? I would argue yes. Jesus made it very clear in Matthew 23:23 that justice ranked as one of the top three most important attributes of the law, right alongside kindness and a dependable character. The crux of Jesus' mission statement (quoting Isaiah 61) revolved around freedom for the oppressed. This God of compassion and abounding in love, who unleashed upon Himself the fullness of His own divine rage so that we would no longer have to bear the burden of the law and the pain of separation from Him, despises injustice.

I think sometimes we have a tendency to push the concept of "free grace" too much. No, God does not want us to live under condemnation, and yes, salvation is a free gift and not one of merit. I would never want to try and argue that anything we do could make us deserving of the sacrifice Jesus paid for us.

However, God is intimately tied up with our works. In the first four chapters of Revelation, Jesus dictates letters to seven churches in Asia, and He begins each letter with the same phrase: "I know your works." The final judgment at the end of time is also one that considers works, although the final deciding factor is whether the individual embraced the gift of salvation.

What it comes down to is closeness of relationship. We don't become intimate with someone without becoming involved in what stirs his or her passions. Just ask any parent who sits through fifteen of his or her child's soccer games. The point is not whether the child wins or loses the game--it's about the parent communicating, "Hey, you're valuable to me, and I'm going to make what is important to you a priority."

When the Father judges all things at the end of time, He's not going to be looking to see if our works justify us before Him. We've all already failed that test. His concern is relationship. His question is, "Did you love me enough to get involved in what matters to Me?"

Grace is free, and yet it isn't. We only prize that which costs us something. To preach a passive grace that does not require action on our part devalues its status in our lives. When I open my mouth to stand for integrity in the face of popular opinion, it is my ultimate expression of love. In doing so, I acknowledge a relationship that is more important to me than the esteem of men, and I overwhelm the heart of the One who loved me enough to do the same.