Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Zephaniah - And the story of a Father and Child

Is God really real in MY life?

I feel shut out of His presence, unnoticed and rebuffed. I do not feel welcomed before God, nor do I feel desired or changed. My life feels dead, as though I’m not living. My heart is cold as stone. I do not see the hands of God working in me, and I do not have the strength to cry out to him in my weakness. Will my voice not work, or does it refuse to work? I am frozen in time, unable to move. There is no escape from this blackness, I can not see. I am numb. I am cold. I am dead.

I know that God is the only one who can change me. I know that no amount of struggling is going to save me. My flailing arms grow weak, and I know that I can not shake off these bonds. There is no escape. I can not save myself. No amount of good deeds will change my ending. No amount of effort will seal a good fate. There is nothing I can do. I give up my will. I struggle and fail to live because this is not really life. This is only the walking dead. I can not fake this slow dying. There is no smile, no cheerful act that can change the way I feel. There is no standing up straight, I will only be knocked down again. I can not change the way I feel, nor do I want to have a superficial light on the horizon.

I fall completely into the arms of Grace. I claim the promises of Love. I cling to Mercy.

I read the verses, I memorize them, I cry them out, and I sing them. My mind holds on to these words, my heart is gasping them out.

THE LORD your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing. Zephaniah 3:17

The Lord - my Lord. I cling to these words...I remember his many names. El Roy, oh God who sees me. I grab onto this hope that he does see me, laying here covered in the mud. I hold onto the truth that God sees through this grime and desolation. That there is something to see inside of me…

I cling to the hope that GOD IS WITH ME. That He really is the Jesus who was born into humanity. Who knew our pain, who knew this hopeless life. I cling to him because he was not born into the rich and the wealthy. He was not born a King. He knows the hardship? Does he know this ruthless life? And He really chose it?

He delights in me. I look in the mirror, at all this grime. This dust, this brokenness crumbling. And I see nothing to delight in. Nothing to catch his eye, or make him smile. And I cry for the beauty that would delight him. The heart of kindness, the white as snow purity. Somehow he delights? He is not blind. He sees me as I truly am, do I?

He quiets me with his amazing love...but only if I am willing to be quieted. After seeing all that dirt and grime and how can God really delight. Yet still, he comes close and calls me child. And his love tells me that no matter who I am or what I’ve done, or what I never ever accomplish...he will STILL love me. And I suddenly feel the peace that seizes my heart when my mother or father wraps me up and tells me it’s ok...What more love God must have since he sees every single thing in my heart! His love stills my heart, and my heart runs water down my face.

And to know, this wet mess of tears and grime and sin, He rejoices over me...I fall apart. I can not hold myself together. I’ve known this mess from the start. He has joy when he looks upon this face of mine. And I ask again - The one who delights in me, does he see the real me? And I see something else? Is what I see a lie?

And I close my eyes and see a child...a small blond girl in her Daddy’s arms. I see joy written on her face, hands held to the sky, trust...the Kingdom belongs to such as these. The daddy laughs and smiles, and I can see his face rejoice. Bliss. Yes, the little girl will hurt, yes she will fall, but she looks up into the face of a daddy who can wipe away those tears, and that mud, and he picks her up. All trust, all love, all peace. Wonderful LOVE.

The love of Christ washes me clean...washes away the muck and dirt and lies that Satan has painted my heart with, and what I begin to see...I begin to see what God sees. That little girl, full of joy and trust, still lives in me. 

Looking up into the face of the Father, He scoops me up, wipes away the tears and grime... and in His arms is peace... and in His eyes...Rejoicing and Delight.

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