Where Is My Faith?

In the most recent chapter of What Women Fear I read this:

"We learn a great lesson by considering how Jesus lounged on the ship.  Those around Him knew he could perform miracles, but when it came down to trusting in miracles for their own lives, the trust wavered.  I see this more in my life; if someone is ill or fearful, I am the first one to encourage them to have faith.  But if it is me, I tend to believe He has fallen asleep.
At the heart of my fear is the burning question of whether or not I really matter to Him the way I want to believe I do.I don't doubt God created the heavens and the earth, nor do I doubt that he raised men from the dead and sits at the right hand of the Father.  These are all big things for a big God.But I am little in the hand of a big God and I fear He will not be able to make His fingers small enough to hold onto me." Angie Smith

I've written about this before.  The idea that I can believe that God's Word is true, that He is who He says He is, but feel like it's true for everyone but me.

And Angie writes the question Jesus asked the disciples on the boat in the middle of the storm, "Where is your faith?" (Luke 8:25)

Where is my faith?

Is it in what I can accomplish?
Is it in how well I keep my house and play with my daughter?
Is it in how my husband responds to me?
Is it in the role I play at church?
Is it in the acceptance of my family?
Is it in my Bible study technique?
Is it in my friendships?

Often it is in all of these things.  I suppose that's why I doubt.  I put my faith in people, in things, in appearances, and they always fall short.

"All...fall short of the glory of God." (Romans 3:23)

Somehow this seems to be a truth hard for me to latch onto as well.  I know that people fall short but I find them so much easier to trust at times.

I know the enemy lies.  He says, "Sure God did it for that person, but that doesn't mean He'll do it for you."  So I manipulate and try to work things out in my own way.  Turns out I'm part of the "all who fall short."

The truth is:
Today there is food on our table.
Today my husband has a job to go to.
Today we can pay the bills in our mailbox.
Today my husband is on his way home to us.
Every day I open His Word and learn something new about who God is, who Jesus is, who the Holy Spirit is, who I am.
Every day I know I belong to Him.
Every day I know I was a sinner who has been redeemed by Jesus.
Every day I know He is doing a new work in me.

These are all acts of God in my life.  Real tangible works that I see every day.  And still I have moments, sometimes days of doubt.  But, the Holy Spirit is working in me, opening my eyes to the truth and closing my ears to the lies.  And I know that if I keep listening His voice will be the one I recognize and the only one I respond to.

Lord, when every fear, every question, every past failure causes me to doubt you, remind me to cling to Your Word and to keep clinging until I see the Truth worked out...

When I Am Wandering...

Sometimes I feel like a wandering sheep.

And maybe Mary Magdalene felt that way after she went to the tomb of her beloved savior only to find that he was no longer there...

She left the tomb to tell the others that Jesus was missing and then returned to the tomb herself where she stood, crying.  What must that walk back to the garden alone have felt like for her?

A suggestion from Just Give Me Jesus today by Anne Graham Lotz: "Her feet must have felt like leaded weights, her heart must have felt as though it were constricted in a vise, and her eyes must have stared glassily ahead without seeing.  The past few hours had commenced so quickly and concluded so suddenly!  So swiftly! So shockingly!  She must have had a huge struggle just adjusting to the surprise of it all.  As she walked, did she look back over the memories of the last few years?  ...Did the old burden of filthy guilt, the old impulse of self-destruction, the old bondage of enslavement by evil come back to her as she trudged to the garden tomb?  Were the sin and memories of her past beginning to cling to her once again like loathsome things?  ...Was she already beginning to feel the loss of her freedom?  With His death, she had no peace and purpose in her life.  She knew without Him she would never be anything other than what she had been-a desperate, hopeless, helpless, hell-bent sinner."

How easy it can be to forget who we are in Christ when we can't see his face.
When we assume he has left us.
When we look and we can't find him and all we want is to sit at his feet and remember how sweet it is just to be near him.

While Mary was crying she saw two angels and a gardener who asked her why she was crying.

An odd question after her savior, her life-changer, her life-giver, her Lord, her heartbeat was beaten, mocked, nailed to a cross, buried, and was now missing from the very tomb these questioners are in!

And then the voice of the gardener came.  "Mary," was all he said and she knew.  She turned to him and cried out "Rabonni!"  Jesus said earlier in John that "the sheep listen to his voice.  He calls his own sheep by name."  And here she was.  Responding to the simple sound of her name by the one who knew her.  And he tells her to go.  And this time she can leave this tomb with hope because he is here and he is alive!

When I feel like I'm wandering, maybe like Mary on her way back to the tomb, and I'm not sure where I should go or who I should talk to or what I should do or why I am even here on this earth because what have I even done and what can I possibly do...

Emily.  One word.  I have a name because I am here, created by his hand.  And maybe he isn't standing here for me to cling to, but his word is here.  His Spirit is here.  If I would only drink it in, cling to it, know it for the purpose of knowing Him more deeply.  And knowing his voice.

Oh Lord, may I block out every voice but yours.  To remember your words, to know your will, and to do it.  When I am wandering, may I remember that you are here, always, and that I am yours.  And  I pray I would always have hope because your life didn't end in the grave and neither will mine.  Thank you Jesus.

New Seasons...

I stay at home with my daughter.  She is so precious.
And funny.
And sweet.
And quick to learn.
And quick to copy.  She copies me.  Talk about accountability.

And while I know that spending time with her is significant I can't help feeling like I'm missing out.  As Josh participates in our church's venture to live out the work of faith in our community this week, I am sitting at home with our daughter.  Feeling like I'm uninvolved.  Not doing my part.  A new season in life for me not being able to go wherever there is a need.

In Just Give Me Jesus today Anne suggests that Nicodemus is looking "...for real life.  Eternal life.  Abundant life," in John 3:1-21.  Is that what I'm still looking for?

Haven't I been born again?  But maybe, like the Israelites, I've taken my eyes off of Jesus and placed them in those familiar places of circumstance,  shortcomings,  of my own ideas of what life should look like.

What, then, does real and abundant and eternal life look like for me today?  If I turn my eyes, my heart, my hands up, what can I see but Jesus and all that he's given?

In chapter 4 verse 21 of John, Jesus says, "But he who does the truth comes to the light, that his deeds may be clearly seen, that they have been done in God."

Do the truth.  Things that can only be done in the light.  Maybe that's all I do today.  Set an example for my mirror-child in the light that she too might live in it and reflect it to others as she grows.  Hasn't he given her to us?  And don't I fill a need by teaching her how to live in the light?  So maybe I'm not missing out and maybe I am doing my part.  Or perhaps definitely.

Then Lord, today, in the hours that are left, let my deeds be done in you, to do the truth and love the light.

See Me

Yesterday, my daughter, just over a year old, sat next to me during a Bible study with a small group of women.  I was looking through my workbook which she placed her hand on, bending her face down close to the page I was reading as if to say, "See me, mama."  What a precious moment that became in my mind instantly.  To see her sweet smile and shining eyes wanting a moment of love.

Ironically we were discussing Hagar who called on God with the name: "You-Are-the-God-Who-Sees; for she said, 'Have I also seen Him who sees me?'"  She needed a moment of love, of sight from God.

How must she have felt?  A maidservant, used as a means of bringing children to her master's family?  Treated harshly by her mistress.  Hard to blame her for fleeing.

But the Lord saw her,  knew exactly where she was in body and in spirit.  She only needed a moment with Him and she was able to return and submit to her mistress once again, knowing that God saw her, knew where she was, and new what would be.  As he does for all of us.

My sweet child only needed that moment from me and her attention was again drawn to the toys placed to occupy her as we studied.   I saw her.  That was enough.  God saw Hagar.  That was enough.

For more of Hagar's story head to Genesis 16