IT’S STILL TRUE

When we are invited into the “fellowship of His sufferings” and the “gospel of weakness” is preached to our soul and makes us its convert, and, like Job, we are left with hanging hands, questioning heart and smitten soul…we need to be able to face the most urgent questions of our lifetime.

IS GOD IN CONTROL?

and

CAN I TRUST HIM TO BRING ME THROUGH THIS INTO A BETTER PLACE?

The Psalmist said,

“it is GOOD for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn to trust Your ways.”
Psa 119:71

He preceded that with this stunning piece of insight:

“YOU ARE GOOD, and You do good…”
Psa 119:68
(Notice the order; we want to reverse those clauses)
Allow me to share some insights God showed me recently from Romans 8:18-39 – one of Paul’s strongest sermons ever.
Go ahead and read it. I’ll wait…

The Fine Art of Waiting on God

I wait for the Lord…my whole being waits…”
Psalm 130:5
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you.
Shakespeare, Sonnet 57
The next time God closes a door, don’t look for a window. Maybe we should just find a couch and sit for awhile.
Jason Upton

I am in a season of waiting.

I have an expectancy in this hour that God will come through for me where I most need Him to. Hope is what I am clinging to; not run-of-the-mill, common wishful thinking, but the way Paul uses it in the NT. And Peter. A settled, bankable confidence.

I fully expect to blog someday about how God came to my rescue, and that He did it in a magical, unexpected, and exceptional way. I’ve even given Him room to answer my cry way outside the lines of my asking.

He’s done it before. Lots of times. And He’ll do it again.

There’s poetry in waiting.

The word sounds like its a bad thing, but I’ve learned a thing or two about this…activity. Yes, I chose my word very carefully.

Waiting is not idleness. It is anything but passive or being in retreat. Waiting is not static. Waiting on God is the season in which our inner man advances. We’ve learned that our children do their growing while they sleep. So it is with God’s child. We do our most and best growing in our restful seasons of waiting on God.

Tell me your waiting story.

Light In Room 426

Why am I at the Shepherd Center these four weeks?

I may not know the full answer to that yet, but I do have an idea.

I just prayed with one of the nurses here in my room, asking God to give her and her husband wisdom to know how to proceed with their adopted daughter. Nine years ago, a little girl was brought into their home who had horrific baggage (later learned) and tendencies. So violent was her Type 2 bi-polar disorder (the worst classification) their own daughter had to sleep with two locks on her door, as she seems to be the burning core of Cassie’s (not her real name) hatred.

This morning, Cassie bounded down the steps of their home walked straight up to her mother, and threw her arms around my nurse friend and told her she loved her. Totally unsolicited.

It had never happened before. In nine years.

This gallant adoptive mother broke down as she shared that, in her heart, she knew Cassie is experiencing a major breakthrough and on the road to healing. I could see years of fear, hysteria, hopelessness and exhaustion just melt away with those wracking sobs and a face that suddenly lost its lines and looked young again.

On this same day she found out that a Medicare-underwritten program has finally accepted their daughter after months of waiting and wringing of hands. After months of crying out for God to heal the pain in the home and torment in their daughter.

Then, this:

“I love you Mom.”

Can you think of four better words?

So my friend is torn. What if this is God’s witness to her that their daughter, after endless therapy and new medicine–not to mention the steady stream of prayers–is showing a monumental turnaround? What would it mean for them to put her in the program?

If they do not drive Cassie the hundred miles to a new rehabilitation center, they will receive no financial assistance for any of their daughter’s future therapy.

I didn’t have a word for my friend, but instead turned to the Word on behalf of my friend. “Dear God, you promised that if we lack wisdom, we can ask of You, and we have the assurance that You will pour out such wisdom without restraint, without guilting us or remonstrating us for lack of faith…”

With heads bowed in this room, we agreed that the Father loves Cassie and has an incredible plan for not only her but for my friend, her husband and their other daughter. We prayed with boldness knowing that God would lift whatever fog or gauzy mist shielded the Johnson’s (not their real name) eyes that they might see He who is true Wisdom, Jesus the Christ.

She wiped her eyes and hugged me and told me her dad had phoned her this morning and used the promise of James 1:5 for those who lack wisdom in their conversation also. The Word had given His word after all. Her eyes were wide with expectation, relief and settled confidence that all would be well.

As I finished that last sentence, my nurse friend just passed my room with a beaming smile. This is why Jesus has come into the world, to set captives (like Cassie—and hurting families) free.