Can I just say for the record that it is unbelievably hot here? This is what the heat can do to you after you take a walk--
(Mr. B--out for the count ever since this morning--and it's now mid afternoon.)
Yes, it's hot. I started to say "ridiculously hot," but decided against it. Why? Because I'm so tired of hearing others (and myself) complain about the heat and the weather. Are we all suffering from amnesia? Does anyone remember the February horribilis we just suffered through? Snow, sleet, ice, frigid cold, school closed, numb fingers, broken bones, grey, dreary...
Ring any bells, anyone?
Sure, it's a wee bit toasty right now, but good grief, we're a people so prone to grumbling. Grumble about the weather...grumble about the traffic...grumble about the slowness of the grocery store line...grumble about the challenges of technology (guilty as charged)...grumble about the stresses of parenting...grumble about busyness...grumble about our children leaving home and moving away (sigh)...and on and on it goes.
Forgive us Father. Remind us anew of Your faithfulness...not just the "biggies" but the daily, "small," continual examples of Your astounding and underserved goodness. You daily graces--the sun rose again...the flash of the bright red cardinal...food to eat...people to love...green, leafy trees...another breath...and, wow, another one--that I do not deserve and could never create on my own.
This reminded me of something I read a few weeks back when I opened the Daily Light and read these familiar words: "Ebenezer...'Thus far the Lord has helped us.'" (I Sam.7:12)
A verse not just about God's faithfulness, but also about consciously remembering that faithfulness. As I read those words, I was suddenly transported...back to Janie's ICU room and the little rock our dear friend, Beth Page, gave us.
A little black rock with those words written on them: "Hitherto hath the Lord helped us." It still sits right here on our kitchen counter, so that every single day--when I'm tempted to whine and complain...or fear and fuss...or doubt and even despair--I'll suddenly be tangibly reminded--
Of our God's extraordinary faithfulness. His remarkable goodness. His unending mercies. His relentless grace. His never-ever-ending presence and promise never to leave us nor forsake us.
For in remembering and rehearsing who our Lord is and what He has done, He encourages and empowers us to trust and to know that He will not fail us today...or tomorrow...or next year...or ever.
So how do we do that? We have to be reminded again and again--in His Word, by our friends, in our worship, by our prayers, even with some ebenezer like our little black rock. Because in case you haven't figured it out, we're all of us mighty good forgetters!
Because here's the thing--we might speak of God's faithfulness with our lips, but do we really meditate on it in our hearts and minds?
Do we consciously remember the times He's come through for us in the past? Do we go back and delve into His Word and see the myriad ways He's redeemed and restored His often faithless, ill-deserving chosen people, the Israelites...and us? Do we open up our Bibles to search for, focus upon, and even memorize His multiple promises of rock-solid faithfulness, never-ending love, all-encompassing grace, forever-enabling provision?
If we want to remember, we need to read His Word. If we want to kill our sin, we need to claim His promises. If we want to replace our grumbling, fearfulness, and selfishness with thankfulness, peace, and generosity, we need to run to His eternal, supernatural words.
The Lord Jesus is our Anchor in the storm. And His Word is the rope that pulls that Anchor close to our troubled hearts and anxious minds. I struggle to explain what His Word has been to me in the storms of life, but I guess one inadequate description is the Bible puts skin on the face of Jesus and puts His flesh-and-blood body beside me, right beside me, in the midst of even the fiercest gale.
As I've shared so many times, I learned this in a tangible, real, "Ebenezer" way as I sat beside Janie's bedside in the middle of the night in a tiny ICU room. The whooshing sounds of her respirator and beeping heart monitor, the blinking lights of machines all around her bed were the only light in the room.
Had you peered in the room, you might have assumed it was just Janie and me...but it wasn't. Oh my, it most definitely was not!
The presence of the Almighty One was thick in the room. Truly, I knew, knew, knew He was there. Strengthening. Helping. Empowering. Enveloping with His love, power, peace. I will never, ever forget it as long as I live.
And during every one of those long "night watches," I would open His Word...and Jesus would speak. It was if He had written and spoken these words just moments before--all so fresh and reviving to my hungry, desperate heart. Sometimes I would look around in amazement...for He was right there, breathing out His Word, warm, wonderful, and healing.
What a Savior...and what a Word.
I'll be quiet now, except to add: that's what He will do for every one of us if we'll open His Word. Wherever you are, whatever you've done or not done...He's here right now, ready and waiting. The Creator and Sustainer of the universe will whisper strength right into your heart with His life-sustaining, hope-giving, faith-filling words of comfort, understanding, hope, wisdom, forgiveness, and power.
Oh might we open His Book and be filled.
Remember the Redeemer and His Word to be restored and revived.
To God be the glory.
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