In the Dark

“At times God puts us through the discipline of darkness to teach us to heed Him. Song birds are taught to sing in the dark, and we are put into the shadow of God’s hand until we learn to hear Him.”

― Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

When I’m in those dark places, Lord, open my ears that I might hear you and learn from you. Open my eyes that I might be aware of the light of your presence even in the darkest places.

On the Beach

One summer Scott and I flew to San Diego to visit our cousin Zelda.  While there, we spent time at the Pacific Ocean’s shore.  Just standing at a very small edge of this huge body of water was awe-inspiring.  Looking outward from my vantage point on the sand, I could not imagine the immensity of this vast body of water, stretching for thousands of miles in every direction.  I spent some time wandering along the shore, always looking out to the water. 

The waves never ceased.  Constantly they rushed the beach, always the same, yet always different.  They followed one another, curling and rolling, white spray flying high.  White gulls skimmed the water’s surface, diving into the tops of the waves to capture fish for breakfast. 

Each wave must have contained thousands of gallons of moving, roiling, rushing water.  Their strength amazed me.  Even when I stood ankle deep at the very edge of this ocean, the waves, running to the shore and then back home, pulled at me, nearly knocking me off my feet.  “Come out into the deep,” they seemed to say. The locals said, “Always face the waves.”  I learned to keep my eyes on the waves and never underestimate their power. 

I tried to discern a pattern in the way the waves ran at the beach, but the variety was endless.  They came in intervals—for a time many smaller waves hit the beach, then bigger waves—wave after wave—pounded the shore, rolling, breaking, rushing to the sands, and then retreating.

The sound of the waves was astounding. Right at my feet was always the soft, sibilant sound of waves running at the beach, scrubbing the sand, then running back home, pulled by the ocean as a small child runs back to her mother and father.  But farther out, where the waves curled on themselves and broke, the waters boomed and roared, boomed and roared.  Even from a half mile away their crashing noise echoed.   I closed my eyes and soaked in the sounds of this majestic ocean.  The early morning air was cool, and I basked in the amazing experience, wishing I could stay longer.  I stood, I looked, I listened, trying to absorb it all.

It occurred to me that the incredible beauty, immensity, and power of the ocean are, on a small scale, a reflection of our miraculous God.  When I stood on the beach and gazed at the ocean, it seemed so enormous, yet I viewed only an infinitesimal portion of this massive body of water. So it is with God.  We are privileged at times to catch glimpses of God’s immensity, but we see only a small portion.  We glimpse His power, yet we experience just a tiny glimpse of His majesty.  In Isaiah 45:15, we read, “Truly you are a God who hides himself, O God and Savior of Israel.”    Paul reminds us how little we know of our awesome God in I Corinthians 13:12.  “Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.  Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.”

God, thank you for the tangible reminders of Your greatness.

Psalms 93:3-4 “The seas have lifted up, O LORD, the seas have lifted up their voice; the seas have lifted up their pounding waves.  Mightier than the thunder of the great waters, mightier than the breakers of the sea—the LORD on high is mighty.”

Trusting God

I’ve read the last page of the Bible, it’s all going to turn out all right.

— Billy Graham

Yes, I’ve read the last page, so why do I worry, question, and doubt? I know who created me and who died for me. Creator and Savior, teach me to have complete trust in You.

Give Thanks

Today I’m thankful for sunshine and flowers, for family and friends. I’m thankful we were able to travel to see our 17-year-old grandson preach at his church for youth Sunday. I’m thankful his great grandmother was also able to listen to him preach.

Every day we have so many reasons to be thankful, in good times and in bad. What are you thankful for today?

The Church

The church is not a theological classroom. It is a conversion, confession, repentance, reconciliation, forgiveness and sanctification center, where flawed people place their faith in Christ, gather to know and love him better, and learn to love others as he designed.

— Paul David Tripp

Lord knows, I am flawed. My church is a gathering of flawed people. Teach us all, Lord, to know and love You better, and to love other flawed people the way you do.

A Child’s First Steps

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

Do you remember watching a baby learn to walk?  First, she holds Mom’s hand tightly, walking with the reassurance of that grip.  Soon she lets go, taking tentative steps on her chubby legs.  Back and forth she walks, from Mom to Dad and back to Mom. She has complete confidence; her parents will protect her.  After her confidence grows, she ventures out on her own.  The steps are slow and the child is wobbly, sometimes swaying to capture her balance.  She falls often, usually by plopping onto her padded bottom.  But she doesn’t give up.  After falling, she may crawl toward her goal and then get up and walk a few more steps. So it goes:  walk, walk, plop, crawl, crawl, walk, walk, plop.  Repeatedly, she toddles her erratic walk.  Sometimes she’s off balance and lurches to one side; sometimes she rushes to keep from falling forward.  But she walks.  She learns.  Before long, she is running.  She runs everywhere.  She is so full of the joy of running that she forgets to crawl.

When we first accept Jesus as our Savior, we are born again; becoming babies in the spiritual world.  As spiritual babies, we learn to walk spiritually.   Our heavenly Father watches over us as we learn.  Like a baby, we are tentative at first, unwilling to venture out on our own.  Just as the earthly father encourages his children to walk, our heavenly Father encourages us on our spiritual walks.  Like our earthly fathers, He holds his out arms, hoping we will bravely walk toward Him.  With God’s guidance and encouragement, we gather the courage to take tentative steps.   We wobble, just as the baby does. Yes, we fall down. Unfortunately, unlike the baby, we sometimes refuse to move. The key to improving our spiritual walk is to keep trying, just as the baby does.  When we lose our balance and fall, we cannot just sit.  We get up and continue to walk; if we cannot walk, we crawl. Learning to walk with God is a slow process:  walk, walk, plop, crawl, crawl, walk, walk, plop.  The baby does not give up when she falls; neither should we.  Over and over, we step toward our Father.  No matter how wobbly and unsure our steps, we make progress toward Him.  Before long we find ourselves walking toward God with confidence, perhaps even running with joy.

Oh God, our Father, guide us as we learn to walk with You.  Teach us, encourage us, help us stand back up when we fall.

II Peter 3:17, 18 “Therefore, dear friends, since you already know this, be on your guard so that you may not be carried away by the error of lawless men and fall from your secure position.  But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  To him be glory both now and forever!  Amen.”

Waiting on God

Most of us would prefer, however, to spend our time doing something that will get immediate results. We don’t want to wait for God to resolve matters in His good time because His idea of ‘good time’ is seldom in sync with ours.”

― Oswald Chambers

Oh, how I want to run down the path, hurry to the other side of the bridge. Forgive me, Lord, for rushing ahead and not waiting for your wisdom. Teach me to trust in your wise judgment and be content in the waiting.