Saturday, December 5, 2009

God With Us

O Come O Come Emmanuel,

And ransom captive Israel.

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God Appears


Advent… The season of reflecting on Christ’s 3-fold coming to earth.


His first coming to earth as a babe wrapped in flesh, born of a woman into the world, freeing us from sin and Satan through His suffering.


His coming, turning unbelieving hearts of stone into believing hearts of flesh, birthing us to new life through the Holy Spirit, freeing us from sin and Satan’s mastery.


His final coming, being revealed to all flesh in glory, vanquishing sin, Satan, suffering and death forever and ever! Amen.


Immanuel revealed again and again… From His first coming on, He is truly our “God with us.”


A lesson I learned these past few days.


O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free

Thine own from Satan’s tyranny

From depths of hell Thy people save

And give them victory over the grave


This week, I decided… I was through. I was completely apathetic to the things of God. Maybe it was my fatigue – physically, and from constantly trying to fight sin… And failing. As one exasperated Christian once wrote in her journal “Where the @#$% is the promised power?!” (And no, I’m not that woman who wrote it – but I might as well be) I wasn’t experiencing the power… So what was the point of fighting?


Was all of this even real? The entire story is ridiculous – and I didn’t care if the Apostle Paul acknowledged as much. I didn’t care that my heart of hearts couldn’t deny the veracity of the Gospel, or that my very soul knew without a doubt that this was realer than life, than breath.


Nope. I was going to live like an unbeliever – because I pretty much felt like one. So why not give in to every lust? Why not meditate on every deliciously angry and vengeful thought? Why mediate on words that weren’t ringing true?


And why pray to this God who was not with me?


I decided to be free!


Funny, that on the first day of my rebellion I read (okay, some habits die hard)


“Why do the nations rage and the peoples plot in vain? The kings of the earth set themselves and the rulers take counsel together, against the LORD and against His Anointed saying, ‘Let us burst their bonds apart and cast away their cords from us.” (Psalm 2:1-3)


…Huh. Well, no matter. Nothing would get in my way of enjoying life without this silent God who didn’t even give me the power to please Him.


But my plan backfired. I didn’t feel any of the joys or carefree light-heartedness I thought “taking a break” would bring. Nope. I was feeling quite miserable.


The next day as I read Psalm 16, I couldn’t deny that God was speaking. “I say to the LORD, ‘You are my Lord; I have no good apart from you.’ …The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply… The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup… I bless the LORD who gives me counsel.” Those were no random words there, and they were so true – my very thoughts said that I knew that only in God was there true joy. And yet, I felt I couldn’t attain it. So I ran deeper into myself, into my hiding place of sin and despair.


I was trying to live like an unbeliever, and I was handing Satan the chains, and my flesh the lock and key.


O Come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer

Our spirits by Thine advent here;

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night

And death’s dark shadows put to flight.


Through the darkness, that seemed to climax last night into this morning, I thought about Advent – this time of not only reflection, but expectation of Christ’s coming. And not just reliving the expectation of Christmas, or the desire for His return, but the hope of His coming in our day to day lives. Something God taught me as a teen was God is not just the God of our salvation and that’s that – He’s the God of our salvation every day. He saves us daily. God is not just the Coming One who will come on the Day of the Lord – He comes to us now.


My wonderful boyfriend was encouraging me this morning that God was with me – that I wasn’t alone, even though I felt that way. And my awesome sister at work encouraged me as well – I’m not sure exactly what she said, but the tears began to fall and the darkness began to lift as I was filled with desire.


I missed God – I missed Him so much, I wanted Him. And yet, the whole time, I wasn’t alone. God wasn’t through with me. God still loved me. Immanuel.


On my way home, I repented of my rebellion and for the terrible grief I knew I was putting the Holy Spirit through. He’s blessed me with His coming today – I was singing “You’ll Come” by Hillsong today, marveling over the fact that God promises to come. If only I’d sing this at those times when I do feel empty and dry (and pray that I do), purposing in my heart not to run after other gods to fill the void, but waiting upon the Lord. Because “As surely as the sun will rise, You’ll come to us. As certain as the dawn appears…”


Immanuel. Not just in the past or the future, but now.


Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel will come to thee, O Israel!

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Thoughts on "Good Morning, Holy Spirit"

When my boyfriend said he would send me a book to help me learn more and better my relationship with the Holy Spirit, I was all for that. After reading The Shack, I realized how little I interacted with the Spirit of God as an actual person. It took me back to a memory where I aced an exam on the Holy Spirit in Sys Theo, but when later that week I tried to explain the Holy Spirit to a random Muslim guy on the train, I was totally tongue-tied. Fail.
So yeah… Anything that could help me see the Holy Spirit as a true person sounded good to me.
…Was a little less excited when I received the book and saw the author was Benny Hinn.

I was first introduced to Benny Hinn in high school by some Christian friends who didn’t agree with his ministry at all. He was our running joke – you know, someone coughs, another person smacks his forehead, and the cougher falls out and shakes, everyone laughs. I was into my heavy apologetics studies those days, and everything I looked up on him placed him into the “apostate” “false prophet or “misguided pastor, poor baby” category. I was comfortable with that.

I was a little less comfortable after I read this book… Because this isn’t the writing I would expect of a prosperity preaching, false prophet.

…It’s actually pretty Biblically sound.

I read of his conversion experience from Greek Orthodoxy with a smidgen of Roman Catholicism to a vibrant faith. He talked about how the Holy Spirit is very God, and he spent a couple of chapters underlining His distinction from the Father and Son, and His unbreakable unity with Them. He even gave a couple cool Trinitarian metaphors that I’ve tucked away for later use (My favorite was the sun: The Father is the actual mass, the Son the light, and the Spirit the heat – I thought that was cool) He spoke of grieving the Spirit, being filled, dying to self…

He didn’t even push speaking in tongues and healing as a must for everyone filled of the Spirit.

Huh.

So, I’m walking away from reading this book not quite sure what to think of dear Benny. He’s certainly made some false predictions, and his use of money is deplorable, but I don’t quite feel comfortable writing him off as a scheming unbeliever anymore.

Well, enough of my Hinn musings. What of my relationship to the Holy Spirit?

I honestly felt discouraged most of the time while reading… I’ve never experienced the electrifying encounters with the Spirit described in the book. “What’s wrong with me?” I kept thinking at the close of each chapter.

Then I was confronted with this question “Are you seeking an electrifying experience or are you seeking Me? Is it a feeling you’re after, or fellowship?” Was I still reducing the Spirit to something rather than seeing Him as Someone?

Did I just want to “experience” the Holy Spirit as a person so I could know Him as He’s meant to be known, or did I just want to feel like a good, mature Christian?

…Did I just want a quick-fix formula on how to hear His voice?

Guilty on all counts.

But not left without hope. Because even now, I realize I am thinking of the Holy Spirit more as this person, this real, living person who interacts with me all the time (whether I realize it or not). The other night I was walking home from work and the thought hit me, “The Spirit… Is in relationship with me.” He wants me to hear His voice, He wants to fill me.

And my sin actually affects Him. It’s not a matter of offending an indignant far-away Deity. It’s a matter of wounding this Friend who loves me.

I’m going through my days realizing more that the Holy Spirit is truly with me, empowering me to live in Him each day.

Maybe I won’t have the spine-tingling, hours of weeping, slain in the Spirit experiences promised to the faithful seeker presented… But I definitely am well on my way to deeper intimacy.

And I think that’s what I need right now more than anything.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

He Wrote Love on His Arms

Sweet silver blades
Are the things of my daydreams
Shattered glass and sighs
Music to my soul
Though I've never
Taken the plunge
To see my own crimson
Painted on steel
To abstain has taken
Every ounce of my will
Not even my own will
Because honestly
I wouldn't be breathing
If it were up to me
Behind the facade of strength
Is one who's trembling and weak
Ah, but therein lays the
Beauty
In my gray and ashes
And fantasies of steel
Is the red-tipped paintbrush
Painting all - but by His will
He colors me scarlet and crimson
He covers me in the deepest of reds
Painted by the blood of the Lamb
Who was cut by
Rough Rusted Nails
Rough Rusted Nails
Are the things of my hopes
"It is finished" with a sigh -
The song of healing for my soul
Help me take the plunge
To see
How Christ wrote love on His arms
To draw me to Himself for
Eternity