The One who plants the ear, hears. The One who formed the eye, sees. He disciplines nations and single hearts, is personified knowledge who knows every thought.
O foolish people. God’s inaction is not incapability. It is grace to us who are but a breath.
So speak truth in love to a lost generation. Be bold in the face of certain opposition. The Lord steadies your foot and puts words on your lips. He is your stronghold, the rock of your salvation.
An albatross of sin drives nails through innocence. You are blameless in judgment. Yet, my fractured bones rejoice. Steadfast love and fragrant mercy blot out transgressions. You teach wisdom, and lead the penitent heart into repentance. You absorb my stain, leaving me clean. Not for me, but for You.
And I sing a new song, a song of righteousness, praising you and only you. I bring you the sacrifice of my broken spirit, my fragmented and contrite heart, myself brought low before you. I offer praise and choose joy when life is not joyful. I trust that you, God, and only you, are in control when life spins out of control. I worship you with a joy-filled heart and choose to believe you are good, even when life is not.
When I don’t feel your goodness, when circumstances whisper you have betrayed me, my praise is a sacrifice. When I lay on the altar my unfulfilled desires and choose to trust the God I cannot understand – it is a sacrifice of praise.
This joy is not happiness, it is not a bubbling of thanks spilling out in gratitude. It is a settled belief that you are good. That despite feelings, circumstances, uncertainties, and unanswered questions, you hold it all. And when I worship here, in the difficulty of now, my praise becomes an offering of trust and adoration that does not hinge on getting my way. It is a beautiful, full-surrender, that might be scary, but is oh, so good.
It is far too easy to show up every Sunday and never really show-up. And Lord, I want to show up. I want to be present, invested, all-in, for your plans for your ultimate glory. I know it won’t be easy, I am trying to hold loosely, I tremble over what might lay on the road ahead, but I believe this is your calling for me – for all of your children – to praise you on the narrow road during the good and the bad, the hard and the easy, all for your glory.
It is my sacrifice of praise. And these fractured bones rejoice.
It comes like a summer drought, draining life and cracking open what once was whole. It dehydrates the broken, drying up hope.
Cotton-mouth despair blows fragmented heart pieces like tumbleweed across the prairie. The earth groans under weighty grief. Can anyone refresh the broken?
Yes, he whispers
The Spirit covers like a long-awaited dew, drenching the parched heart. Meditate on Him, His Word, on what He has done. Ponder the work of His hands. God is our hope. He is our future. He is our peace.
Flee toward true refuge. To the God of creation. The God of salvation. Your God. His good Spirit leads, so lift up your soul. Nothing is too difficult. He satisfies the thirsty. Draw water from His well of salvation.
We are visitors, I know. But somehow I never considered you going on ahead. I never considered what it would be like to walk this earth without you. To not hear your voice. Not see your smile. Not feel your touch.
We lived in a way that presumed upon tomorrow, but now we have only yesterday. What would I say or do if we had another day? Would I recognize it as a treasure, or would I fritter it away chasing things that cannot satisfy? Would I know what really matters?
Yesterday is gone, and I mourn for today, but not like someone without hope because tomorrow is coming. A thousand tomorrows. A thousand tomorrows joining you in singing out love to our great and mighty God in the place where tears are no more. The illusion lies and claims our good-bye is forever, but really, you are just a breath away. A heartbeat. And when I inhale eternity, I will see you again, and join in the never-ending praise of our Creator.
So I won’t say good-bye, I say, until then.
I love to take a passage of Scripture that contains general instruction to believers and make it personal. I prefer to study the English Standard Version (ESV), but after studying a passage in the ESV, I will often read the paraphrase in The Message. Then, I personalize the passage, praying the words, challenging my heart, and asking the Holy Spirit to convict me to change. The challenge below comes from Colossians 3:1-17.