the rock that is higher than i

*The Dolomites*, Photography by Sergio Anotoni

From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed:
lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
Psalm 61:2, KJV

[5 minutes]

This time 43 years ago I was meditating on these very words. For days on end I agonized over how they’d become my lived experience.

My “end of the earth” was a college campus in Chattanooga, Tennessee and I was an “overwhelmed” college kid. My desperation owed to the fact I couldn’t find any reason to go on if something didn’t change. My miserable world ran late for an appointment with a giant fork in the road. Meanwhile, there I was, stuck in a mud hole on the side of the road.

Quite suddenly, from nowhere, this verse hit my ear drums like a percussive bomb. Everything shook and shifted. I memorized it. I quoted it. I gnawed on it. I wept over it. I fell asleep with it muttering on my lips. I visited it in my dreams.

It now strikes me as odd that in all of the decades of preaching, I’ve used that scripture as the main text of a sermon perhaps once or twice. And yet, it remains the sun in my existential solar system.

The climb

If you pray that God will move your mountain and he doesn’t, assume Christ wants you to climb it instead and see him transfigured.
— Beth Moore

Sometimes we see a mountain and pray that it gets moved. Other times we see one and say — in the spirit of 85-year old Caleb — “Take me there, Lord.” My weary heart was done with ‘making mud-pies in a slum.’* I was now after the Rock that was higher than i.

Since then, I’ve been tempted by lesser things, settled for them, repented of them, and raised my eyes again and again to that blessed Mount. I’m still climbing, thanks be to God.

Almost twenty years ago (I remember it well because it was my last hospitalization for pressure sores), a family friend told me she couldn’t shake an image of me from her mind. In that hard season I was as depressed in spirit as a body could be, fighting yet another pressure wound and facing more weeks and months of hospitalization. When the woman asked if she might share an encouraging word, I was only too happy to listen.

I see you as a mountain goat winding around a tall mountain on steady feet. I’m struck by how the feet stay planted even though the path is treacherous. And every time you go around the mountain, you go higher. The way is never easy, but as you keep moving, you keep climbing, climbing, ever higher.

Think what you will about visions and mental pictures, but I must say I found it gripping. She hadn’t known about Psalm 61 and its impact on my life, so the image had me transfixed, even more so because of its peculiar timing. My situation was redolent of a frightened Gideon hiding out in the wine-press, told by the Angel he was a mighty man of valor. A sure-footed mountain goat conquering the craggy cliffs? Me? Hospital-bed me?

Moving stones

The timing of God, beloved, is impeccable. Of course it seemed a bit too “peccable” for Mary and Martha when Jesus finally showed up for their departed brother’s funeral. Our Lord was only fashionably late, turns out. It seems the will of the Almighty was to let things play out. By doing so, our Lord showed them his heart (“Jesus wept”) and his awesome power.

Lazarus’s resurrection suddenly planted the idea in their heads that there was no obstacle greater than God’s power! Sickness? Come on, small potatoes. Quieting a storm? Childs play. Walking on water? He could do that in his sleep! But death? Even worse, a fourth-day-body-is-ripe-by-now death? Now we’re talking.

Let the reader understand: there’s nothing quite like a good old-fashioned resurrection to keep you climbing just to see what else God has in store. I needed a resurrection while I languished — overwhelmed — on that bed of misery…and God gave me one. He set my feet on a Rock, praise his Name. I’ve been the beneficiary of a thousand and one mercies and so have you. You’ve seen God do things that took your breath away, things that put you flat on your face in worship. So have I.

My sister told me once upon a time she wanted to see me reach heights that few have ever reached. There are countless others who have gone a fair sight higher than I can imagine for myself. By the grace of God, and with his help to give me sure feet, I’m going to keep climbing. I’m tired of pebbles and stones. I want the Rock that is higher than i.

Selah, beloved. Onward and upward!

_________________________________________

*Full quote by C. S. Lewis, “We do not want too much, but too little. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.” (The Weight of Glory)

put down your sword

[5 minutes]

Sandy and I had an argument on the way home from church recently. I know what you’re thinking: ‘What did she do now?’ Now, now. In her defense all she did was tell me something completely innocent and I responded in an argumentative way.

To bring you up to speed: I’m tired of waiting for a breakthrough. I keep thinking I could nudge it along by just taking the bull by the horns. Because I felt that Sandy was being much too passive (a better person than I would say gracious), I *might* have deposited my two cents’ worth about not doing the situation any favors by letting it fester. On the Lord’s Day, no less.

Question: Have you ever thought the Almighty needed a little extra help on being a better God and you just so happened to be the right person for the job?

No? Just me?

If there’s a Complaint Dept. in heaven, I’m sure I get the collective eye roll when my name comes up on Caller ID. My prickly side keeps showing up and I can’t seem to stop myself from butting my head against the concrete wall in front of me. Fortunately, there’s a Bible verse for pretty much any wall you’re butting up against. And, since I’m so hard-headed, the Lord saw fit to give me a pair of them the day after I reacted poorly to Sandy.

Aside: I’m pretty sure Jesus keeps certain scriptures holstered for me on just such occasions.

The first Bible verse with which the Lord got my attention is located near the end of Romans:

For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.
Rom. 15:4

Endurance.

What a powerful, necessary word.

Andrée Seu defines “endurance” as “faith with Nikes on.” William Barclay informs us that “endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory.” That’s really good.

Paul is rounding out his letter with some holistic encouragement for the diverse gathering of saints in Rome. What’s most on his mind in those final strokes of his literary masterpiece? He tells them to endure. What’s even better, he lets them know in the very next verse (Rom 15:5) that God is a “God of endurance and encouragement.” IOW, we aren’t just counseled to endure, we’re told we get our endurance from God!

When we’ve been hit by the struggle bus, we are promised a bottomless pool of God’s grace from which to draw. Do you see how he puts “endurance” side-by-side with “encouragement” in verse 15? Write this down, beloved:

The Lord never calls us into any hardship without offering his comforting presence and strengthening grace in the midst of it.

Endure, Scott, Jesus told me. If you will trust my way and wait for all the pieces to fall together, you will see glory come from it.

I mentioned I have two scriptures to share with you. This one brought it all home for me.

And behold, one of those who were with Jesus stretched out his hand and drew his sword and struck the servant of the high priest and cut off his ear. Then Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back into its place. For all who take the sword will perish by the sword. Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels? But how then should the Scriptures be fulfilled, that it must be so?”

Matthew 26:51-54

Jesus’s rebuke of Peter in Gethsemane has more to do with recognizing a spirit of unbelief and rebellion in Peter rather than a righteous defense of an innocent victim. Jesus scolded Peter for trying to play the hero. For God! Such audacity! What nerve! Peter was clearly not happy with the turn of events, so he tried to rewrite the script (v54) all on his own.

Lord, deliver us — deliver me — from #SimonPeterSyndrome.

May we learn the lesson that trying to force God’s hand to move the process along never ends well. Such tactics, as Simon demonstrated, is not heroism, but a form of unbelief. Jesus had already prepared the Twelve three separate times that a night like this was going to happen. When God tells you what must take place, it isn’t up for discussion or a vote.

So, back to that unfortunate turn-of-events on the Sunday at hand. You’ve gotta know I pray over Sandy every day. There is a set prayer that I use, and I never deviate from the script I believe God prompted me to follow. It is very specific. Other prayers are added to it, depending on the day or situation, but the main prayers are ironclad. All of which makes this whole Sunday argument the stupidest thing on earth. I got mad at Sandy FOR DOING THE VERY THINGS I HAVE BEEN PRAYING FOR HER TO LIVE OUT.

Am I the just the dumbest?

I discovered something about that day I fussed at my wife. I learned while I’ve been surrendering ourselves to do and live God’s will in a very hard place, I’ve been holding a sword in my hand. This isn’t the way of Jesus.

When my Bible reading schedule took me to the Romans text, and then the Matthew passage, I heard Jesus, in no uncertain terms say: “Don’t you think I know what I’m doing and can handle matters without your help, thank you very much? Put your sword down.”

Lord, forgive me. Please. Deliver me from Simon Peter syndrome.

How will your will ever get done with me in the way?!?!?

Whew boy. Nailed once again by the Word of the Lord. This is getting to be a habit.

Put down your sword, whatever you’re up against. Endure in the hardship. And be encouraged. It’s a whole lot better — and less bloody — than lopping off ears.

Selah, beloved.

sometimes miracles take time

[7 minute read]

I forgot to include this music video as a benediction to my previous post so I’ll just sit down (!) and write a new post. <Smile> You may recall I referenced the passage in Hebrews that has been ministering to my soul these days, “As things stand right now, we aren’t seeing all things subjected to Christ’s reign, but we see Jesus…” (Heb 2:8,9, my paraphrase). This song has been getting a lot of background play as I wait on the Lord to (how shall I put it?) unburden me from specific burdens I carry daily.

Full disclosure: the biggest burden is me. The unfinished me. The Scott who requires a lot more fine-tuning. Sanctifying. Paul prayed for the Galatians that “Christ would be fully formed in them” (Gal 4:19) and I’ve been asking the Holy Spirit to do the same for myself. It’s been a stretching season, to say the least, but Christ has been an ever-present help through it all. The ironic thing is during this burdensome season I’m also seeing a crazy amount of answered prayer in many other areas.

The Father keeps reminding me of the scene by the seashore in John 21. Jesus tells Peter that he will have a rough but rewarding life of following him, but compels the disciple to trust and follow him anyway. The Master is certainly worthy of it.

Peter turns and considers John for a moment then asks Jesus, “What about John? Is he just going to traipse off to heaven on flowery beds of ease?” Who among us hasn’t fretted about our assignments once or twice?

Why don’t they ever seem to struggle?

Why does she always get her way?

Why does everything turn out fine for him?

Why do I always have to take the high road?

Why does John get all the love?

Why, why, why. There’s probably a reason “why” starts to sound like “why-ning.” (Lord, make me/us better.)

This morning Sandy remarked that our journey has often asked more of us than others’ journeys do of them…or so it feels. [Truth bomb: faith > feelings] We know in our hearts that God is for us, his ways are perfect, and the payoff in following Christ is worth living — and suffering — for.

we know in our hearts that God is for us, his ways are perfect, and the payoff in following Christ is worth living — and suffering — for.

Sometimes miracles take time. I just got off the phone with a very dear ministry friend, a faithful reader of this blog, who is in AFib and requires a pacemaker to control his heart function. He was told by more than a few that he would “feel like a new man” with his pacemaker, but, days later, he’s still not feeling it. He’s waiting for a miracle.

No one likes being told to wait. Waiting almost feels like delaying the inevitable the same way a streetwise child hears a parent say “We’ll see.”

In Practicing the Presence of God, Brother Lawrence tells of someone who “would go faster than grace” (she was impatient to become holy) and I hear that same caution in my life today. I’m so eager for God to get everything sorted out I’m not surrendering to his meantime mercy. While we’re waiting for our miracle, God is busy doing a thousand other things for us.

while we’re waiting for our miracle, God is busy doing a thousand other things for us.

God not only has the last word, he has the next-to-last word, too. And all the words that come before that. In a later psalm of David, he praised a God who knew every page of his life, start to finish. How wonderful! This means that the Almighty is just as engaged in every minute of our days (good and bad) as he is committed to our telos (finished product).

Miracles take time sometimes. And sometimes, if we’re being honest, they may never see the light of day — at least not in the way we hoped. There are rebels who adapt to the far country just fine and never come home. Some diseases aren’t cured. Marriages fall apart no matter how often we pray and fast and hope against hope they don’t.

I don’t remember where I heard this, or read it, but I’ll tell it as I remember it. Most of us know that Charles Spurgeon, for much of his life, suffered with deep, dark depression. Sadly, he lived with depression the rest of his life. He saw himself as a lonely lighthouse, beaming the light of the gospel out to the hopeless souls lost at sea, though he himself remained in darkness. Not the darkness of being lost, for he carried the gospel light within him, but the darkness of never being healed from the oppression that plagued him. Even still, he embraced his ministry with gladness, knowing countless others were rescued and set free.

I’ve often prayed to walk again, but I will keep trusting and living onward and upward; I’ve got thousands of other healing stories anyway. I happen to be in the middle of one right now.

Sometimes miracles take time, and sometimes they get unexpected upgrades. When I, a permanently disabled man, prayed for a wife, I had no idea how blessed my life would be. My idea of a miracle was to get married at all. God’s miracle was Sandy. Yahtzee!

sometimes miracles take time, and sometimes they get unexpected upgrades.

I’ve written about this before, but my lifelong dream was to see the Grand Canyon. It would take a miracle to get me there at all, what with all my health problems and near-death experiences. But God gave me my miracle…and upgraded it to the best road trip ever…with some of our dearest friends…witnessing the grandeur of the canyon after the most beautiful snowfall…a picturesque sunset…dozens of dazzling photographs…and a thousand-and-one other grace-happy moments to relish and treasure.

And all of us born again brothers and sisters. What upgrade did we get? We didn’t just get our sins forgiven; we got eternal life, the indwelling Holy Spirit, the mind of Christ, a new spiritual family, new mercies every morning, ongoing sanctification, answered prayers, hope in our suffering, power for living, grace for dying, a heavenly Father, a heavenly home…and (drum roll) Jesus.

If I may, I’d like to pray for us, knowing a post like this affects us all in varying degrees. Each of us carries the “yes, but not yet” reality like a counterweight to our fixed eternal hope. I’d like to ask God to avert our eyes from the circumstances of our day-to-day burdens to the Living Christ who has overcome.

Father of mercies, we confess that we are often so focused on our predicaments we miss the importance of waiting. We find ourselves in the waiting room once again and ask for grace to prove faithful in this uncomfortable season. All our fountains are in you, Jesus, and we eagerly wait in hope for your promised outcome. It will be glorious, we know, because you are an Artist and everything you do is perfect. May you receive all the glory from us and in us in this season and always. In the name of Jesus, we say Amen.

Selah, beloved.