We have lots of wonderful changes happening in our household. Luke is entering college. Jonathon is moving on campus and in the middle of wedding plans. There's excitement. There's stress. There's intense joy. There's fear. These are the things in life that most of us await with hopeful anticipation, me included.
Yet yesterday I was overwhelmed by a wave of loneliness, or maybe something deeper. An old familiar feeling of being in something so big that you're not known. Insignificance. I saw the last year and a half in a fast rewind. Moments with God where I knew He was asking me to let go of something. A leadership role, a teaching role, another leadership role, a job, material security, a daughter (who moved out of state), home security, another teaching role, a fellowship, sons... areas in my life that I invested in. Plowed and seeded. Areas that I found some sense of satisfaction, purpose, value. Significance.
So I'm mulling... and I get this picture. There I am with a golf bag. [No, I'm not a golfer, but I play one on Wii. :)]
Forgive the digression. There I am with a golf bag. A heavy one. It is filled with crutches. Picture them labeled with all of the aforementioned things I was asked to let go of. And I'm walking alongside Jesus. He says to me, "Child, you're stumbling." I say, "Oh, right..." and I grab a crutch out of the bag and try walking on the rocky terrain still carrying my crutches. There is this huge desire in my heart to please the one I'm walking with. I'm doing my best to keep up. After all, He invited me to walk with Him and to serve Him. In fact, most of these things were gifts from Him in the first place. They are not sins. They are places of service, relationships of value, needs God faithfully met... focal points of my heart.
So I pull out my crutch, that focal point that keeps me busy or helps me to feel needed or makes me feel valued, and walk alongside Jesus with a "watch me... aren't you pleased... how am I doing...aren't you proud?" I've systematically watched God remove each crutch from under my arm as if to say, "try the next one, Child. You're still stumbling." I put my weight on each one of those things in hopes that they would make me walk upright, make me walk with my head up... in hopes that I would somehow be the special one in His sight and maybe in the sight of others.
The truth is: nothing makes us feel that grand sense of significance for long. We might get so good with our crutch that we gain some applause in ministry. We might actually get good enough that others may choose to follow us. We might gain value from being the hub, the one others come to for advice. Even the crutch of busyness or a career or family fun can help for awhile. Eventually, none of them make us walk whole and upright. We're reallly just stumbling under the load of 3 feet rather than 2.
In my picture, I get down to the very last crutch... and God asks for it too. I'm standing exhausted with an empty golf bag and nothing left to fill it. Just me and Jesus. I stop and set the bag to the side of the path and continue to walk next to Him. He says to me, "Your stumbling..." At this point, I'm left with nothing to do, no focal point to take my mind off my stumbling. No focal point to rationalize my stumbling. No focal point to be the silver bullet that will finally make me significant. Empty handed.
And I could see His face. "Your stumbling..." wasn't said with anger or disappointment. It was meant only as an observation... only to help me to see my own state. It was a mere fact. I can see the compassion in His face... "Denise, your stumbling..."
The last crutch gone I felt despairing, done with... shelved. How can I walk on when I've nothing to do for Him (no bag to carry)and no way to keep from stumbling (no crutch - no heart focal point to make me signficant)?
The scene in my mind went to a man running. He had just done mighty things in the name of God. He was afraid. He was alone. He found a juniper tree, sat down, begged to die, and went to sleep. And God said to Elijah, "Arise and eat."
And He had prepared for Him a meal, gave Him more rest, and the next day again said to him, "Arise and eat. You'll need strength for the journey." I wondered about him. Did the big thing he did "for God" not fill Him up either? Had his heart focused on the call instead of the Caller like mine has so often done? Where were his crutches? Had he just used his last one? "Arise and eat." And He gave him bread and water. He gave him Himself, the Bread of Life and Living Water. And His Presence was to be enough to strengthen him for the journey.
Yesterday as I stood there in His presence, I realized that the removal of my crutches was God's mercy to me. With each one pulled from my hand, my Lord was saying, "I love you, child, but this is not why...You're important to me child, but this isn't the reason... You matter to Me, but not because of this..." I stood there with nothing... just me... oh gee. I sunk to my knees and realized I'm a beloved stumbler. I realized that walking with Him is to be for the pleasure of His company. And I had His presence near me all along. What makes any of us subconsciously pursue the attention of God? What makes us beg quietly in our spirit with everything that we do: "Oh God, please notice me"? We have never gone unnoticed.
Humbly stationed on my knees, aware of all my frailty, aware of the insanity from which I finally woke, His word pierced my heart.
"...but He disciplines us for our good, so that we may share His holiness. All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful [crutch removal can be a bumber], but sorrowful [sometimes to the point that you find yourself under a juniper tree]. Yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness. Therefore [Denise], strengthen the hands that are weak and the knees that are feeble [yep, your a stumbler], and make straight paths for your feet, so that the limb which is lame may not be put out of joint, but rather be healed."
"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."
And then finally, "Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to make you stand in the presence of His glory blameless with great joy..."
"You're stumbling." "Oh, right..." And then deep within my heart I heard the appropriate response. "Nevertheless You, Lord, are continually with me; You have taken hold of my right hand. With Your counsel You will guide me and afterward receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but You? And besides You, I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart may fail, but You are the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Your nearness is my good. I will make You my refuge so I can tell of all of Your works along the way."
I think I actually heard Him say to me: "Denise, You matter to me. If I never let you lead, teach, serve, or do for Me ever again... will my love for You and My presence, My company, be enough?"
Crutch free... just me... oh gee. I still matter to Him.
And besides You, I desire nothing on earth, Lord.
