The Silence and Uncertainty of a Heart's Sifting.

Loneliness. Where did it come from? I feel like it has jumped out from some shrub on Ferry Road and latched itself onto me, invading the flat and permeating my being. The silence it brings with it rings and echoes. I never really expected things to happen this way. I never expected His silence now. 'Any time but now, Lord,' I cry out, 'Now when I need your guidance so very deeply.'

Amy Carmichel once wrote, 'Bare heights of loneliness....a wilderness whose burning winds sweep over glowing sands, what are they to Him? Even there He can refresh us, even there He can renew us.'

I have been reading Passion and Purity again (by Elizabeth Elliot). I had read it when I was seventeen, but thought I'd pick it up again. See if my views on it had changed. :) Was this book written for me? Seriously. I thought that the first time and I am thinking it now. When all in my life - my purpose, my worth, my abilities - all seem uncertain and unclear....to have someone else recount their own struggles and doubts has given my soul something to cling to. Something Better. Here are some of the things she has to say....

'I do know that waiting on God requires the willingness to bear uncertainty, to carry within oneself the unanswered question, lifting our heart to God about it whenever it intrudes upon one's thoughts. It is easy to talk oneself into a decision that has no permanence - easier sometimes than to wait patiently.' 'Silence begins to drag on my soul. It is a kind of waiting which hears no voice, no footstep, sees no sign. I feel that I could wait ten years if it were not this waiting, this silence.'

'Waiting silently is the hardest thing of all.' 'When you are lonely, too much stillness is exactly the thing that seems to be laying waste your soul. Use that stillness to quiet your heart before God. Get to know Him. If He is God, He is still in charge.'

When it seems like all others have places to go and things to do, my prayer has been, 'Help me, my Lord, to shoulder this loneliness. To bear up under your sifting and burning that I might develop perseverence, character, and my hope might be proved a solid thing. For my Hope is in You. Christ in me, the Hope of Glory.' I feel like this is such an unworthy thing to lay at His feet. Such a small trial in comparison. Why has it been this hard for me? But He does not reject our sacrifices. He does not scorn them. No matter how pitiful, no matter how small. When I ask 'Why?' (which I have done countless times these past couple of weeks), He gently reminds me that He wants all of me. Whole and Holy. And He does not ask needlessly of me. He will not despise the perfume on His feet. It says in Proverbs that 'Each heart knows its own bitterness. No one else can share its joy' (4:10). But we have a Great High Priest who is not distant and who shares in all our bitterness and all our joy. Not only that, He takes our bitterness and gives us his joy in return.

There is something equally powerful that surfaces in the loneliness and silence, though. And that is longing. It is now this longing, deep within me and bursting to come out, that threatens to take over. This longing for there to finally be an answer, finally be a someone, finally be a definition for my life. It is in the painful beauty of longing that our hearts reach out for the eternal. In this we are not alone. He, Love, has entered into our world. Our hearts. And He has understood. Because of this, we can call out to Him, 'Abba, Father.'

She continues, 'My heart was saying "Lord, take away this longing, or give me that for which I long." The Lord was answering, "I must teach you to long for something better."'
It is this Truth that wreaks havoc on my soul. This Truth that He is better. He is better. He is better. Let this sink in, Lord....Day by day. I am not alone. And the loneliness, though now a weight, will be far outweighed by glory. That is His promise. And He who promises is Faithful.

As Jim Elliot said, 'Let not our longing slay the appetite of our living.' 'Wherever you are, be all there. Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God.'

It is this challange of living the eternal in the present that I am now confronted with. I have to look past the doubt that there is nothing for me to sink my hands into, look past it to the better that He is....

Let's join in this dance of His grace, shall we?


'I remember my affliction and my wandering,
the bitterness and the gall.
I well remember them,
and my soul is downcast within me.
Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord's great love
we are not consumed,
for His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is Your faithfulness.
I say to myself, 'The Lord is my portion;
therefore I will wait for Him.'
The Lord is good to those whose
hope is in Him,
to the one who seeks Him;
It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord...

....Let her sit alone in silence,
for the Lord has laid it on her....'
(Lamantations 3)

'crazy, mad, big Love.'

To glimpse the BIGNESS of Love Himself is the only way we can understand the BIGNESS of the Love that is offered to us, freely. And Love Himself is Big.

'O Lord my God, you are very great;
you are clothed with slendour and majesty.
He wraps Himself in light as with a garment;
He stretches out the heavens like a tend
and lays the beams of His upper chambers
on their waters.
He makes the clouds His chariot
and rides on the wings of the wind.
He makes winds His messangers,
flames of fire his servants.'
(Psalm 104)

You have taken me through the stars, Lord, at a speed I could not imagine yet remained right by my side. Inside and outside time and space all at once. You have taken me through the heavens. Galaxies whirl and rush past Your eyes. Light Incarnate, Your wind has caressed my soul and Your voice has captured my heart.

'I love you.'
Why?

'Because you are my daughter.
Does a Father need a reason
to love His daughter?

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I will never stop saying that. I have plans for you that will
bless and protect, full of hope and life and love and joy. You have
no reason to fear for I AM.


I AM your Father. I AM your Joy.
I AM your Truth. I AM your Ridiculous Asker.
I AM your Means and End.
I AM your Fulfillment. I AM your Tears.
I AM your Joy. I AM your Peace.
I AM your Grace. I AM your Righteousness.
I AM your Future. I AM your Purpose.
I AM your Salvation. I AM your Light.
I AM your Newness. I AM your Restoration.
I AM your Plan. I AM your Reward.
I AM your Worth. I AM your Freedom.

I AM your crazy, mad, big, Love.
I AM your God.'


Your MERCIES are new every morning. And your GRACE is overwhelming. Your FAITHFULNESS is strong and neverending. Your LOVE astounds me all the time. That the God in whose eyes lie all the galaxies calls me His beloved and precious child is the most beautiful, fulfilling, wonderful, captivating, and restful mystery of all time and space.

The unforced rhythms of grace
are falling slowly
into the heart of Beauty Itself,
and in the wake of which
earth's dark shadows flee.

If Only.

I was running. Running down a non-descript street. The pain was searing in my chest with each breath that I gasped. If only. If only, if only, if only, if only, I stated over and over to myself as I ran until I could run no more, wishing that I had some tangible reason to be hurting this much. Willing there to be some great tragedy in my life to legitimise all of this pain.

But there was nothing. Nothing but this emptiness, this lifelessness that consumed me. The utter desolation of my soul pierced the light around me with great shafts of darkness. They began, slowly at first, and then with growing force to devour the day about me until I was lost in the night. In some ways the darkness was more comforting for I was no longer the lifeless, miserable, self-loathing person whose parasite-like being seemed to burn up any ounce of others' happiness in her wake. I was at home in this numb and sightless place where I could linger in my own stinging shame.

And do you know what the worst part about all of this was? I'll tell you. The worst part was that there was nothing, no reason, why I should be this way. No great dysfunction, no great tragedy, no great remorse should be plaguing me. And yet it was. Why was this pain here, then? Why this regret? Why did this shame and darkness fill my very being? I felt deaf to the voices around me, numb to what I touched. Any kind of interaction, a nod or a 'hello', took all my strength and focus. I felt drained simply by brushing my teeth in the morning.

And that is why I had started running. I didn't care where, as long as it took me away from the familiar rooms and corridors. That is why I was standing on this corner looking absently across the street, my sight blinded and my limbs paralysed by the growing darkness. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Self-loathing filled me to the brim. Why can't you manage to get a grip on yourself and stop being so internally focused for just one minute of the day??, I screamed at myself. The expression on my face remained emotionless as the nothingness and pointlessness of existence suddenly swept over me. I laughed dryly in response. Perhaps I had finally come to the end. And this was all there was. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just nothing. Winter had crept into my soul and seemed to be there to stay.






But....


Who was that man staring at me from across the street? His eyes seemed to be piercing through my very being even from that distance. I could not look away. It was not that he was extremely beautiful, but his eyes were the most exquisite things I had ever beheld. I realised I was trembling all over....He was walking towards me....He was standing in front of me.

'Hello', He said. His voice unleashed the torrent inside and around me. I doubled over and my arms wrapped around my stomach, clutching at the void that was threatening to consume me. Oh. Oh this pain. The emptiness, the nothingness, that for the last age I had been trying to forget and keep unnamed and unrecognised in the quiet corner of my heart now burst forth and began to drown me. My silent screams filled the air.

Just as I was sinking into the agony of unconscious grief, something warm and strong grasped my arm, invading my winter. I slowly regained consciousness and realised I was sitting in the middle of a field. He was across from me. And He was smilling. Who was this man?

'It was good I found you when I did. You were remarkably hard to find, you know.'
Was that a smile in His eyes? My incredulousness must have been obvious to Him as His face fell backwards and He laughed out loud. The sound of His laughter penetrated me. I was powerless...and yet somehow I had never felt this full in my life before. The sun was blinding me, and yet I could see so clearly now. the wind's freshness was warming my frozen body and cooling my heated eyes.

The beauty of it, in comparison to the utter desolation of my own self, shook me to the core of my being.

He stopped laughing. His eyes retained all of their warmth, though, as He said, slowly taking His time, 'It's safe to hope again. It will not come crashing down.' His face was full of an unknown pain now, and then reassurance, as He continued, 'You will heal, you know. I have found you. Your quiet masks and defenceless walls are no good against me. You may be sure that I will never let you go.

If only. If only I was good enough to deserve this. I want my eyes to be deep and warm. I want to be loving, patient, gentle, and kind. But I feel the opposite. Why? If only I didn't have to shrink from this light. If only this could be true. My eyes and heart burned with the desire to believe so.

He sat there with the Treasure of the Worlds in His hands, willing me to lay hold of it. He wants to give this to me, when I can give Him nothing - the nothingness - in return. Not only will He give me thse riches, but He offers to me Himself. A Person who knows me, a Person to whom I need not explain myself. And He has promised, promised not to leave me. Forever.

'I have given you a morning. And it's new....Will you ever know how much I love you?'
The soft notes of the piano begin to play again as the rising sun is in my face.


It's called grace. And it leaves me thunderstruck as I stretch out my hand.




The song of the morning.

'Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.'
(Hebrews 10:23)

(1 Peter 1:3-9)

'My heart is in anguish within me;
the terrors of death assail me.
Fear and trembling have beset me;
horror has overwhelmed me.
I said, 'Oh, that I had the wings of a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest -
I would flee fare away and stay in the desert;
I would hurry to my place of shelter,
Far from the tempest and the storm.'

....But I call to you God,
and the Lord saves me.
Evening, morning, and noon
I cry out in distress
And He hears my voice
He ransoms me unharmed
From the battle waged against me,
Even though many oppose me....

....Cast your cares on the Lord
and He will sustain you;
He will never let the righteous fall.'

(Psalm 55)

In love with tragedy.

It's hard to say you satisfy me, Lord, when I'm constantly and consistently looking for affirmation and approval elsewhere. I find that friendship, the deepest and truest (the most holy), can even divide my heart from Yours. I long for You to fill my soul with longing for Your person, with a heart that seeks Your face.

I feel like such a hypocrite at times. I say I want You and then quickly run after others. I fit You neatly into the first and last five minutes of every day and then wonder why I feel so tired. Wonder why my grace has worn thin. Why my love is empty.

'Is it because it is not Thou I see,
But only my poor, blotted fancy of Thee?
Oh! Never till Thyself reveal Thy face,
Shall I be flooded with life's vital grace,
Oh make my mirror-heart Thy shining-place,
And then my soul, awaking with the morn,
Shall be a waking joy, eternally new-born.'
-MacDonald (Diary of an Old Soul, 7 October)

Seek Your face
for the pure in heart
shall see You.
Your face, O Lord,
I will seek.

For that which I seek, I shall most surely find.

Do you ever listen to music which utterly, yet quietly breaks your heart for home, in its final and most true sense? A song in which there is a mute longing for a beauty that will be dawning (and yet has also already set)....it's breathtaking.

'I wish I was a poet
Could write in fine hand
Would write my love a letter
One she'd long understand
I'd send it by the water
Were the islands overflow
And I'd think of pretty Saro wherever I go.'
-Sam Amidon, Saro

Somehow being (semi)coherent on paper helps. even if I still feel like a tragedy at times, I know, in that indefinable and indefinite way, that He loves me. And that even though giving up on myself is a frequent and almost daily affair, He has not. I can still be filled with quiet assurance even when I feel but a shadow of myself that His patience and grace are overwhelmingly everlasting.

'Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, whcih transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is notble, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things.' (Philippeans 4:4-8)

'Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and early loved, clothe yourself with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.' (Colossians 3:12-17)

'The one who calls you is faithful and he will do it.' (2 Thess. 5:24)

a prayer whispered.

When I least expect, when I least deserve, when I least feel....
....Your freedom has overtaken my soul.

I thank You, Jesus, for the expanse of the cross. For the unending life that it promises. Not only that, but the truth of freedom that it brings and the way of hope it gives. For forgiveness. For You are the way, the truth, and the life.

'He is wooing you from the jaws of distress to a spacious place free from restrictions, to the comfort of your table laden with choice food.' (Job 36:16).

With all the sermons and words that have been flying about, perhaps the child-like faith of one who has been reminded of her Father's heart might finally be restored.

'Don't live in fear of your mistakes. Trust Me.'
I realise that I do this constantly. Waking up in the morning, still with those mistakes I made yesterday clinging to my skin like dirty clothes that should have been taken off the night before. I insist on keeping them by me, like a duty I must pay in order to come inside. When will I ever realise that it isn't the duty He wants....but for some inexpressible reason He wants ME.

It's like He's waiting there, next to an alter. Waiting for me to come and lay down these inexpresible and perhaps insignificant burdens, sins, and shames down at His feet. He helps me to lift them up onto the alter, quietly, and then lights a torch. He hands it to me and I light the fire. As we watch it burn He places His arm about me....I don't even know what the burden was (bitterness and unforgiveness maybe?) but I feel as if this is part of the relearning of what it is to be a daughter: giving it over to Him instead of attempting to figure it out, repair it, or hide it. His faithfulness and tenderness are everlastingly strong.

'When I said, 'my foot is slipping',
Your love, O Lord, supported me.
When anxiety was great within me,
Your consolation brough joy to my soul.'
(Psalm 94:18-9).

As George Macdonald says in his fairy-tale Phantases, 'past tears are present strength' and future joy. 'Nor do we know how much of the pleasures even of life we owe to the intermingled sorrows. Joy cannot unfold the deepest truths, although deepest truth must be deepest joy.' (George Macdonald, Phantases). Our lives are full of beauty and tragedy, of joy and sorrow. And if He is our Deepest Truth, then it most certainly will be the Deepest of all Joys.

'Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In His great mercy He has given us new birth into a Living Hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade - kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith - of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire - may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honour when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen Him, you love Him; and even though you do not see Him now, you believe in Him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.' (1 Peter 1: 3-9).

'Every tragedy of higher order, constructed in Christian times, will correspond more or less to the grand drama of the Bible; wherein the first act opens with a brilliant sunset vision of Paradise, in which childish sense and need are served with all the profusion of the indulgent nurse. But the glory fades off into grey and black, and night settles down upon the heart which, rightly uncontent with the childish, and not having yet learned the childlike, seeks knowledge and manhood as a thing denied by the Maker, and yet to be gained by the creature; so sets forth alone to climb the heavens, and instead of climbing, falls into the abyss. Then follows the long dismal night of feverish efforts and delirious visions, or, it may be, helpless despair; till at length a deeper stratum of the soul is heaved to the surface; and amid the first dawn of morning, the youth says within him, "I have sinned against my Maker-I will arise and go to my Father." More or less, I say, will Christian tragedy correspond to this-a fall and a rising again; not a rising only, but a victory; not a victory merely, but a triumph.' (George Macdonald, 'The Broken Swords').

'Hope is not in what I know. It's not in me, it's in You....I find peace when I'm confused, I find hope when I'm let down. Not in me, it's in You.' (Switchfoot, You).

jesus, i am resting.

After almost a whole year....my issues remain. My hurts and pains are still here. My sorrows and cares are stubbornly holding their ground.

But the grace. Oh the grace has returned. I have let it in once more. For so long I've been killing hope, not watering it with the Eternal Love which wants to overflow into my heart. But Love is seeping through the grounds of my heart once more, and the Living Hope is beginning to grow again. Fed on so little for so long, it doesn't need much to sustain it; yearning and longing after more and more, though, it is calling me out again to live in grace. Yet this calling out requires something I have not practiced for an age (like trying to play the piano again after not touching the ivory keys for years)....trust.


Jesus, you have led me to rest. Glimpsing, ever more unfolding, who You are. Your beauty, my Lord, overwhelms my soul. Your wholeness of love is far, far too big for me. I am surrounded by Your wealth of grace and a certainty of Your many promises. I am resting in the joy of what You are. Finding out the greatness of Your loving heart. Beholding Your changeless love which satisfies my heart in its deepest places. Enfolding me in Your peace.
You love me when I feel fat, when I feel like a rubbish daughter, when I feel like a bitter friend, when I feel like a worthless girl, and when I feel like a failure of a Christian. This love. It's too beautiful. It's too great. There's too much hope, too much promise. It don't deserve it, and yet You've given it to me.
My precious, beautiful Jesus. My Lord. My King. My Friend. My Brother....I love you. Words fail me when I see this tender, gentle love and those kindly eyes. Those hands that carved wood and now reach out to me if I would but put down this pen. Rest. Mmmm. Rest. Something I have not allowed myself to know in a long, long time. A forbidden blessing I have wrongfully and sinfully avoided and excluded. A rest that satifies me and securely fixes me within Your love.

The joy of Your face is before me and the peace of Your hands have touched me.

A hope has been renewed.



Jesus I am resting, resting
In the Joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.
Thou hast bid me gaze upon Thee,
And Thy beauty fills my soul,
For by Thy transforming power
Thou hast made me whole.

Chorus:
Jesus, I am resting, resting
In the joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.

O how great Thy loving kindness.
Vaster, broader than the sea!
O how marvellous Thy goodness,
Lavished all on me!
Yes, I rest in Thee, Beloved,
Know Thy certainty of promise,
And have made it mine.

Simply trusting Thee, Lord Jesus,
I behold Thee as Thou art,
And Thy love, so pure, so changeless,
Satisfies my heart;
Satisfies its deepest longings,
Meets supplies its every need,
Compasseth me round with blessings;
Thine is love indeed!

Ever lift Thy face upon me,
As I work and wait for Thee;
Resting 'neath Thy smile, Lord Jesus,
Earth's dark shadows flee.
Brightness of my Father's glory,
Sunshine of my Father's face,
Keep me ever trusting, resting;
Fill me with Thy grace.

hope is coming for me.

Is the pain we go through only so that we can handle more and more pain throughout our life (like how vaccines work)? Or are they so that one day the Hope will be even more glorious??

And I treat my relationship with You as if it's based on emotional manipulation. I constantly tread upon the egg shells of the cross....but not the real cross, it's the cross of my own making. Surely, I reason, I must remember this. Must constantly repent. 'We need to stop visiting our tombs and talking to our dead old men' (The Supernatural Ways of Royalty).

I have forgotten the grace. Willfully and by mistake. I have worried and feared....not placing my faith or trust in Hm and what He's done. Who IS He? What HAS He done? Is it because I keep forgetting this or because I've never really known? I feel like I'm going slightly insane....

I am tired. Tired of trying to make myself hear You. Trying to encourage myself in You. Can You come and speak to me? Encourage me again? This emotional rollercoaster. Spiritual schizophrenia....one day hearing You, the next day not, then hearing you for two and then not for five. Back and forth, no steadiness. No consistency. I've forgotten what a mountain looks like. All I seem to remember is this valley.

I am feeling slightly detached from LIFE...you know? Slightly detached from Him. and I'm tired of TRYING to BE something. This indistinct feeling that somehow the ME that I am is inadequate, not enough, when I am in a relationship with Him. I desperately want this to be a RELATIONSHIP and not a duty. But it can so easily slip into a duty.

When did You stop being enough?

When did I stop looking at You face and only looked at Your hands? Have I ever REALLY seen You for who You are, and not simply for what You've done?

As I looked down at that cup of blood, that cup of love, and the immensity of it nearly drowned me.
She whom I set free, is free indeed.

Really? Have I been simply unthankful or living in a prison of my own construction?



And when I least expect it He comes and says, 'After all this pain, and sorrow, and lies, and despair....are you brave enough to believe that the dawn is coming?' It's like we walking around the palace, creeping about like we are the servants when He's made us His children. Yes, we should know that we were paupers once, but we are called to walk about the palace now as legitimate children and heirs. We are trying to serve Him, the King, when He wants us to sit at His table. He's dressed us up in royal robes and changed who we are in His kingdom. Why do we insist on doing the mopping, as if to repay Him - somehow - (we feel the need to) for this grace? We get dirty doing 'His work' and He washes us every time.

'What I am saying is that as long as the heir is a child, she is no different from a slave, although she owns the whole estate. She is subject to guardians and trustees until the time set by her Father. So also, when we were children, we were in slavery under the basic principles of the world. But when the time had fully come, God sent His Son, born of a woman, born under law, to redeem those under law, that we might recieve the full rights of daughters. Because you are daughters, God sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out 'Abba, Father'. So you are no longer a slave, but a daughter, and since you are a daughter, God has made you also an heir.' (Galatians 4:17).

'Reviewing the sinfulness of our past in order to become humble is perversion. It actually creates shame; and shame is a poor counterfeit of humility....in reality it is much more humbling to live in the liberty of unearned forgiveness.'
'Repentence was needed....true repentence is to change the way you think....my shame was over my humanity, and my discouragement was over who I wasn't (not a secret or unrighteous habit).'
'We no longer live in the bondages of our past - performance and c omparison,....but we know our worht in simply loving Him'
(The Supernatural Ways of Royalty)

Today is the first day in a long time...a very long time, that I feel excited and passionate about being a Christian. About living this life again. This week has been one of those foundation shifting weeks where the perceptions of everything change. I feel a level of peace....and joy (is that what this feels like?) in Him...in You, that I haven't for an age. And then the change came and I didn't even realise.


'Have heart my dear
we're bound to be afraid
even if it's just for a few days
making up for all this mess

Light up, light up,
as if you have a choice,
even if you cannot hear my voice,
I'll be right beside you dear.'

(Snow Patrol, Run)


http://www.thelongbrake.com/blog/2008/11/04/what-if-you-truly-loved-your-neighbor-as-yourself/