A New Journal

I just finished the first entry in a new journal. I love new journals. I find excitement and anticipation in flipping through 200 blank pages, knowing that in 3 months every one will have words on them. It didn't used to be that way. I used to take more than a year to fill a small journal. But my journaling habits took a dramatic change a couple of years ago when I overheard a friend talking about her journals, that her entries were letters to God, more like prayers and honest reflection than a diary. At the time, she was 25 and just starting her 25th journal.

Such a simple thing-- journaling to God-- was a brand new idea to me. I included God in my journal, to be sure, but as an afterthought. "My day was... and this happened... God would you..." I decided to try my friend's method, and began each entry with "Dearest Father..." It was a breath of fresh air, and it brought new depth and purpose to my devotional times with God.

Yes, I just started a new journal, which makes me think of the events that will fill the next few months-- mostly, the unknown events. When I started my last journal, I had absolutely no idea what God would do in me as I filled those pages. Changed relationships, changed perspectives, changed jobs, changed worldview, changed dreams. I had some pretty well-established dreams and ideals in June, and they are completely different now.

Then I think of the plans I have for the upcoming months-- five weddings to shoot, portrait sessions, starting my own business, visiting friends, the holidays, weddings to attend and participate in, etc. This journal will be full. I'll probably ring in the New Year with it. I might last through the end of January... maybe.

There's a lot happening in the next few months. I can't wait to see how God changes me, what "theme" this journal will hold, what circumstances He drops in my lap. He likes to surprise me.

So much to look forward to. So many areas to trust God. I can't wait to see what the future holds.

Glimpses of Self

"It is a good day to me when Thou givest me a glimpse of myself." This is one of my favorite quotes from the book The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotionals, by Arthur Bennett. God has given me many glimpses of myself in the past several weeks, and I'm learning a lot about myself. These lessons are very good, and very painful at the same time.

I'm just learning that my insides aren't as clean as I thought.
That my love isn't as pure as I thought.
That my mind is more deceitful than I thought.
That my motivations are more selfish than I thought.
And that God is incredibly more gracious and faithful than I thought or expected.

These are good lessons. Any time I see the depth of my own depravity and sinfulness I'm grateful. It hurts, because, once again, it shows how far away from God I really am, and how much farther away I have the capacity to go. But it is always good, because God's grace is what shows me my sin and draws me back to Him.

This week I began reading through Song of Solomon in the Amplified Bible. I love to read this version every once in a while because it reminds me that Scriptre has depth as well as breadth, and it challenges me to dig and press on and pursue a greater knowledge of Christ and His Word.

As I've read through Song of Solomon this time, I actually paid attention to the footnotes, which are, in fact, questions as opposed to notes. They challenge me to examine my heart and my relationship with Christ. I've included the questions below, along with the corresponding excerpts from Songs.
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Tell me, O You whom my soul loves, where You pasture Your flocks... Songs 1:7
Does my spirit crave the Divine Shepherd, even in the presence of the best that the wold can offer me?

I can feel His left hand under my head and His right hand embraces me! Songs 2:6
Do I have a constant sense of my Shepherd's presence, regardless of my surroundings?

Arise, My love, My fair one, and come away. Songs 2:13
Do I take time to meet my Good Shepherd each day, letting Him tell me of His love, and cheering His heart with my interest in Him?

Let Me see your face, let Me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet and your face is lovely. Songs 2:14
Do I realize that my voice lifted in praise and song is sweet to Him, or do I withhold it?

Take for us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vineyards [of our love], for our vineyards are in blossom. Songs 2:15
What is my greatest concern, the thing about which most of all I want Christ's help? When He asks to hear my voice, what do I tell him?

Come away with me from Lebanon, my [promised] bride, come with me from Lebanon. Depart from... the lion's dens, from the mountains of the leopards. Songs 3:8
Do I heed Christ when He bids me to come way from the lions' den of temptation and dwell with Him?

Oh, I pray that the [cold] north wind and the [soft] south wind may blow upon my garden, that its spices may flow out [in abundance for You in whom my soul delights]. Songs 4:16
Am I willing to have the north wind of adversity blow upon me, if it will better fit me for Christ's presence and companionship?

[But weary from a day in the vineyards, I had already south my rest] I had put off my garments-- how could I [again] put them on? Songs 5:3
In my weariness from earthly cares, do I hesitate to answer when the Divine Shepherd knocks at my door, and so turn Him from me?

His voice and speech are exceedingly sweet; yes, He is altogether lovely [the whole of him delights and is precious]. This is my Beloved, and this is my Friend, o daughters of Jerusalem. Songs 5:16
Is my Savior unquestioningly the One altogether lovely, the One above all others most precious to me? Can I tell how and why Christ is more to me than any human being or than all earthly possessions?

What do you do when God says no?

What do you do with emotions that hold on, that refuse to let go, that keep hoping against hope for the impossible?

What do you do when the pain keeps resurfacing, and every time you think you've dealt with it, it comes back again?

How do you walk in obedience, fully confident that God will fulfill Hs promise, when His promises feel like dry crumbs because of the hardness of your soul?

What do you do when your brain agrees with your spirit, but your feelings pull in the opposite direction?

What if the warm, rose-colored dreams you loved and cherished turn out to be only a cheaply-tinted window that cracked and shattered, and now your vision is only comprised of cools and grays and questions?

What do you do with unanswered questions? What if there is no reason why, just the cold facts?

Deep down inside, I know that I want to know God more than I want my dreams, more than I want to love. But my brain keeps telling me that I want my dreams, and my feelings keep telling me that they want to love and to be loved, and my poor will is trying so hard to pull the other two along, but in truth, it's not even sure which way to pull. My soul is one twisted, confused mess. I don't want to be, to feel, to live this way. I cannot.

So, how do I work through this? How do I go from emotional pain to confident expectation?

Oh my God, I cry by day, but You do not answer, and by night, but I find no rest. Yet You are holy, dwelling in the praises of Your people. -- Ps. 22:2-3

My emotions do not change God's character. He is holy when He answers. He is equally holy when He is silent.

There are times in my walk with Christ when my response must be one of determined purpose, not emotion-driven exaltation; times when I remember the work of God in the past, and trust that He who was faithful, still is faithful, and ever will be faithful... regardless of how I feel.

In You our fathers trusted; they trusted, and You delivered them. To You they cried and were rescued; in You they trusted and were not put to shame. -- Ps. 22:4-5

Yes, He is always faithful, and always sufficient. Even when it hurts. Even when the tears won't stop. Even when the pain must remain in the corner crevices of my heart. Even when no one else understands.

My flesh and my heart fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. -- Ps. 73:26

But whatever gain I had I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. -- Phil. 3:7-8

I have tasted of God's grace and mercy, and I find it sufficient. I long for more of His goodness and His faithfulness, in whatever ways He desires to display that.

Things are not as they appear. His grace may feel like judgment, and sometimes His mercy feels like pain and broken hearts. But I do trust Him. I have no reason-- EVER-- to doubt Him.
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Begone, unbelief, the Savior is near,
And for my relief, will surely appear.
By faith let me wrestle with God in the storm,
And help me, my Savior, the faith to adorn.

Though dark be my way, since He is my guide,
'Tis mine to obey and His to provide.
Though cisterns be broken and creatures all fail,
The Word He has spoken will surely prevail.
-- John Newton

"Daddy, Tell Me a Story"

It is a well-known fact that little girls love stories, and Eppie was no exception. Every night in that magic hour between dinnertime and bedtime, Eppie made her way to her father's side, squared her chin with determination, grabbed ahold of his knees with her little-girl hands, and scrambled up into his lap to listen to his stories.

It was the same every evening, for as long as they both could remember. She loved sitting in his lap; he loved her head nestled in the crook of his arm. She loved the sound of his voice; he, her fascinated mind. She loved stories; he loved her love of stories.

"Daddy, tell me a story," she would say. No other words could be spoken. It was as if she held the key to an entire kingdom full of treasure, and "tell me a story" was the spell needed to enter through the gate.

It was the same every evening.

Tonight was no different than any other night. Eppie made her sacred march across the well-worn living room carpet to her father's side, climbed into his lap, and snuggled down with a quiet sigh. But before she made her usual request, she sat in silence for several minutes looking at her hands, and obviously deep in thought. Her father watched in fascination, wondering what was going through that beautifully inquisitive mind. Her brow furrowed, then relaxed as she finally raised her large blue eyes to match his equally large and wise blue eyes. She smiled as she stared up at him, ad he wondered at the question in her expression, but she spoke only those magic words:

"Daddy, tell me a story."

What kind of story do you want to hear tonight?

"A good story."

A good story? I thought all of my stories were good.

"No, no Daddy. I mean like at good story. You know." She spread her hands emphatically to emphasis the importance of her words. "Like a love story."

A good story like a love story. Hmmmm... well, well, well. This is a first. Just any old love story, eh?

Eppie's eyes grew wide with exasperation at her father's teasing. "Daddy!"

Okay, okay. What love story do you want to hear? A princess story, like Cinderella or Beauty & the Beast? Or a real-life story, like when Daddy & Mommy got married?

The furrow returned to Eppie's brow as she again looked down at her hands and again raised her eyes to match her fathers'.

"No, Daddy. I want my love story."

Her father looked at her tenderly for several minutes before he spoke again, his rich voice deepening and mellowing with emotion.

My darling, I cannot tell you a story that has yet to be written.

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"Abba, tell me a story."

It is a well-known fact that big girls, like little girls, also love stories. The big-girl Eppie is no exception. Almost every day a desire wells up inside of her to know, in a similar way that the child-Eppie wanted to know the story. Words are important, as are all the elements of a good story-- joy and sorrow, love and pain, victory and defeat, loss and gain; the stark contrast between the hard times and good times make the best stories. And every night in that magic hour between saying goodnight and going to sleep, she makes her way to her Father's side, focuses her mind with determination, and looks up into her His face.

Eppie loves her Father's arms. She loves coming to Him with boldness, knowing that Christ intercedes for her. She loves resting her weary head in the crook of His arm and resting, as the cares of the day ease away. She loves the sound of His voice, and she delights in following after His beckoning call. She loves His stories-- the ones that He weaves in her life every single day.

"Abba... dearest Father..." No other name can be spoken. To Eppie these sweet, simple, childlike words mean that she doesn't feel the need to verbalize the wonder of His many attributes to gain His approval or sound like her relationship with Him is deeper than it already is. It is the key that unlocks the gate to the kingdom garden full of the riches of His grace in her life.

It's the same every evening.

Tonight is no different than any other night:

"Abba, tell me a story."

What kind of story, My child?

"A good story. A true story. A love story. You know the one..."

The same one you ask to hear every night?

"Yes! That one! Oh, it's so good. Will You please tell it tonight?!??"

Darling, you know as well as I do that it's too early for the part of the story that you want to hear.

"But why? You don't have to finish writing it, do You?"

Oh, no. It was finished before the foundations of the world, since before time began.

"Then why can't You tell it to me?"

Because I want to show you your love story, and let you live. You don't want Me to spoil the ending for you, would you?

"No. But it's such a good story!"

But waiting until the end is part of the story.

[sigh] "It's just so hard to wait for it."

Yes. Waiting is always hard. But if you know Me, and you do know Me, then you know the end well enough.

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"And therefore the Lord earnestly waits, expecting, looking, and longing to be gracious to you; and therefore He lifts Himself up, that He may have mercy on you and show loving-kindness to you. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed (happy, fortunate, to be envied) are all those who earnestly wait for Him, who expect and look and long for Him- for HIs victory, His favor, His love, His peace, His joy, and His matchless, unbroken companionship." -- Isaiah 30:18, Amplified Bible

My path is tangled. My faith is tried. Not shaking, not wavering. But it is under assault. It doesn't make sense. A senseless path? Of course not. I don't believe that. But I do see it. That is what I see when I look out in front of me. I see conflict between my wants and needs, and, for that matter, conflict among my various wants; among my various needs. I see apparent conflict between my temporal concerns and spiritual ones. You know, like insurance and income vs ministry and service. They won't jive today. As hard as I try to make them work, I don't have peace with any of the plans I come up with for next year. I am hearing one thing from one direction and another from another. I see paths everywhere. "Your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, "This is the way, walk in it," Isa 30:21 I believe that He, of course, will do that. So I am working like that's gonna happen. Trying to understand as if I will soon. Listening like one who is being instructed. But right now I am a little confused. And I think that I'm supposed to be. So that my faith can be tried. So I can see it proven. I do trust His heart.

The Gain One Cannot Measure…

Such a path that lies untraveled waiting for it’s one

Who’ll journey on her day and night until his traveling’s done.

If searching for some fame or lore her purpose used in vain

For none who set their eyes so low receive eternal gain.

But those who take the narrow winding path which is less traveled

Who raise their glance to heaven’s glory see His will unraveled.

A sight which ne’er can be be replaced by any earthly treasure

For true is gain which lies in Him, the gain one cannot measure.

- B. J. Cartwright