Sssssssshhhhhhh.....
Quiet... Can you hear anything? Me either. Sometimes it feels like I'm in a vacuum and I can't hear and I can't breathe and I can't escape the nothingness. When I get there I start wondering - where is the hope? And Father is always faithful to remind me of who He is, what He has done, what He is doing, and what He is going to do. And He always gives me direction. Yesterday He said to me: Be secure in the silence. Be strong in the storm. Be steadfast in the separation.
Silent times are the vacuum times and when I can't hear Father's truth I begin to fear and doubt and lose my security - my hope. The past months have brought more silence into my life as it seems my close circle of friends have become less communicative and too busy for encounters due to life changes. My place of ministry and level of interaction with others are almost nonesxistent (at least that is the way it feels!). Much like the many years between the Old Testament days and the beginning of the New Testament, things are very silent. And I have been feeling a bit hopeless about the possibility of what is to come. I am not secure in the silence.
Stormy times are when the business and troubles and trials of life seem to overwhelm me with noise - the opposite of the vacuum and the silence - but still a time when I can't hear. The noise of the storm drowns out the truth I need to be hearing. And I crumble in weakness. Much like the disciples in the boat with Jesus in Luke 8 - He was asleep in the boat, a storm blew up on the lake, and they went into a panic. Like them, I tend to panic when I realize I am weak in the middle of a storm - powerless to overcome it, powerless to survive it. I lose hope for the future. I am not strong in the storm.
And times of separation are difficult - separation from friends and family - separation from home and familiarity - separation from the norm. Separation is a difficult time - a time when I am forced to be alone with myself, my thoughts, my heart, my reality. Separation can be quiet and very lonely and frightening. It usually leads to isolating fear that looks more like a crazy bouncing off the walls or the inside of a tornado inside my head. It leads me to erratic thoughts and behavior in my vain attempts to make sense of what I hear in my head and heart. I feel like the separation will last forever and I struggle to have hope that it won't! I am not steadfast in the separation.
On Friday I heard Father say to me: "Did you think I had forgotten about you? Did you think I didn't love you any more?" I said, "No." But I realized my attitude and my prayers and my thoughts had said the opposite. So I said to Him, "Did you think that about me?" He said, "Not for a minute." He was secure in my silence. He was strong in my storm. He was steadfast in my separation. So how can I be those things? Hope is the answer.
Jeremiah 29 contains a passage most people know and love - the one where He says He has a plan for us - hope and a future with security and blessings. But the verses before that paint a picture of the 'meantime' - the time before that plan unfolds - and how He desires us to live with hope. He had carried a remnant of His chosen people to captivity in Babylon to punish them for their sins but it was a lot more than that. He'd done it to preserve them and care for them until everything was ready for their return to the place He was preparing - the unfolding of the plan of security and blessings. He told them to settle in, build houses, plant gardens, marry and have children and grandchildren, and pray for peace and prosperity in the land of their captivity.
Much like that remnant, we also live in the meantime - dealing with our flesh, building Christ-like character, waiting for our captivity to end so we can return to the Promised Land. Whatever He has promised or spoken over our lives, we wait for it to be complete. And He is saying to us, just like the remnant in Jeremiah 29, have hope. Be secure in the silence because this is a time of rest before a new movement of the symphony begins. Be strong in the storm because this time of moving and shaking and tossing is all under my control and I will not let you drown. And be steadfast in the separation because it provides times of introspection and communication with me that you wouldn't have if you were still surrounded by others. When we hear His truth and walk in it we find that He is the hope, isn't He?
I am singing to you now: My hope is built on nothing less, than Jesus' blood and righteousness. I dare not trust the sweetest frame but wholly lean on Jesus' name. Psalm 25:4-5 says: Show me your ways, O LORD, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.
Sssssssssshhhhhhhhhhh... I hear something... He is showing, teaching and guiding. He is God. He is my Savior. He is my hope. There is steadfastness in my separation. There is strength in my storm. There is security in my silence.
Amy
Silent times are the vacuum times and when I can't hear Father's truth I begin to fear and doubt and lose my security - my hope. The past months have brought more silence into my life as it seems my close circle of friends have become less communicative and too busy for encounters due to life changes. My place of ministry and level of interaction with others are almost nonesxistent (at least that is the way it feels!). Much like the many years between the Old Testament days and the beginning of the New Testament, things are very silent. And I have been feeling a bit hopeless about the possibility of what is to come. I am not secure in the silence.
Stormy times are when the business and troubles and trials of life seem to overwhelm me with noise - the opposite of the vacuum and the silence - but still a time when I can't hear. The noise of the storm drowns out the truth I need to be hearing. And I crumble in weakness. Much like the disciples in the boat with Jesus in Luke 8 - He was asleep in the boat, a storm blew up on the lake, and they went into a panic. Like them, I tend to panic when I realize I am weak in the middle of a storm - powerless to overcome it, powerless to survive it. I lose hope for the future. I am not strong in the storm.
And times of separation are difficult - separation from friends and family - separation from home and familiarity - separation from the norm. Separation is a difficult time - a time when I am forced to be alone with myself, my thoughts, my heart, my reality. Separation can be quiet and very lonely and frightening. It usually leads to isolating fear that looks more like a crazy bouncing off the walls or the inside of a tornado inside my head. It leads me to erratic thoughts and behavior in my vain attempts to make sense of what I hear in my head and heart. I feel like the separation will last forever and I struggle to have hope that it won't! I am not steadfast in the separation.
On Friday I heard Father say to me: "Did you think I had forgotten about you? Did you think I didn't love you any more?" I said, "No." But I realized my attitude and my prayers and my thoughts had said the opposite. So I said to Him, "Did you think that about me?" He said, "Not for a minute." He was secure in my silence. He was strong in my storm. He was steadfast in my separation. So how can I be those things? Hope is the answer.
Jeremiah 29 contains a passage most people know and love - the one where He says He has a plan for us - hope and a future with security and blessings. But the verses before that paint a picture of the 'meantime' - the time before that plan unfolds - and how He desires us to live with hope. He had carried a remnant of His chosen people to captivity in Babylon to punish them for their sins but it was a lot more than that. He'd done it to preserve them and care for them until everything was ready for their return to the place He was preparing - the unfolding of the plan of security and blessings. He told them to settle in, build houses, plant gardens, marry and have children and grandchildren, and pray for peace and prosperity in the land of their captivity.
Much like that remnant, we also live in the meantime - dealing with our flesh, building Christ-like character, waiting for our captivity to end so we can return to the Promised Land. Whatever He has promised or spoken over our lives, we wait for it to be complete. And He is saying to us, just like the remnant in Jeremiah 29, have hope. Be secure in the silence because this is a time of rest before a new movement of the symphony begins. Be strong in the storm because this time of moving and shaking and tossing is all under my control and I will not let you drown. And be steadfast in the separation because it provides times of introspection and communication with me that you wouldn't have if you were still surrounded by others. When we hear His truth and walk in it we find that He is the hope, isn't He?
I am singing to you now: My hope is built on nothing less, than Jesus' blood and righteousness. I dare not trust the sweetest frame but wholly lean on Jesus' name. Psalm 25:4-5 says: Show me your ways, O LORD, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.
Sssssssssshhhhhhhhhhh... I hear something... He is showing, teaching and guiding. He is God. He is my Savior. He is my hope. There is steadfastness in my separation. There is strength in my storm. There is security in my silence.
Amy
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