Thursday, October 15, 2015

This Would Be Easier if I Trusted You Less

It happened on a Saturday morning.

         After a long season of trusting God and praying for His help and interceding for a loved one and leaning hard into the living Word of God, I was singing and praying on a random Saturday morning.  If you've ever been in a season like mine, where you're like the "midnight friend" in Luke chapter 11, and you have a need so pressing on your heart that you don't know how to do anything but knock until the Lord meets your need, then you know what I mean when I say that sometimes you grow weary of praying and asking and knocking and never seeing the door swing wide with your Father's welcoming smile awaiting you. Well, I was weary.  I was tired on this Saturday morning.  And I'll be honest.  I prayed for just about everything under the stars except what was on my heart, except what I wanted, except what I desperately needed. But the Lord wouldn't let me off the hook.  Even while I was praying for other things, He drew it out of me. He wouldn't let me come so close and not be real.  So, I encouraged myself in the Lord and decided I wasn't going to "go through the motions" after all.
        Press in, Sue.  Focus on your Lord.  Don't lose sight of Him now.  Your enemy wants you distracted.  The Word says to DEDICATE yourself.  The Word says DEVOTE yourself.  Jesus prayed all night.  Be like Jesus.
      So, I got up and started pacing the floors.  I got real with God.  My friends laugh when I "get real" with God.  But God doesn't.  He gets me.  And on this particular Saturday morning, God "got me" real quick.  I poured my heart out to him about my loved one, like I always do, like I always did, like I always have.  I lined up the reasons this person so needs my Father to intervene.  I reminded God why this person is so vulnerable to the enemy, and then I told the enemy why he couldn't have him.  And then I started asking my loving Father to move.  Move heaven.  Move earth.  Move people.  Move hearts.  Move dreams.  Move plans. 
      I pray you can hear my heart here.  I wasn't making casual requests.  I was begging.  Bawling.  Snotting.  On my knees.  My face was on the floor.  Incoherent.  Heart-raw. All-my-eggs-in-His-Basket.  As if lives depended on Him. Because they do.
      And then it hit me.  In a wave of pure love and absolute honesty, I picked my head up and told God with a smile on my teary, snotty face, "This would be so much easier if I trusted You less." And instantly, in a picture of what was happening in my heart, I had to stand up.
  Actually, I had to stand up and laugh.  Because I realized, right then, I had been on a journey.  A LONG JOURNEY.  I may not have covered much geographical ground, but, oh the places I had been with my Father!  You see, two years ago, I remember laying in the same floor, pouring myself out before the same Father, but it didn't start from a place of faith.  My journey started from a place of fear and of torment and of terror.  I was young and afraid and shaky and scared.  I was on bended knees, but they were wobbly.  I was face to the floor, but that floor wasn't solid beneath me.  I was crying out, but I wasn't all too sure of the Father that would let me cry in the first place.  I was questioning.  I was angry.  I was indignant.  I was proud.  And when I would pray, I was throwing words in all kinds of directions, just hoping against hope that I would say the right thing on the right day and hit the right target with the right attitude on the right Temple beside the right angel uttered with just the right verse at just the right tone and the right inflection...  You get the idea. 
         I had been on a journey alright.  Two years ago, I showed up to the exact same battle and said, "God, this would be so much easier if I trusted you more."  And now, two years later, on this same battle ground, the war hasn't changed. The enemy hasn't changed. The person God and I are fighting for hasn't changed.   I HAVE.  Back then, I looked at my mess and it looked impossible.  And I looked at God and it seemed like He was nowhere to be found.  On Saturday, I looked at my mess and it looked like it simply ISN'T POSSIBLE THAT GOD CAN'T FIX IT  And I looked at God and I said, "This would be so much easier if I trusted You less.  If I had one ounce less confidence in Your goodness, one fiber less faith in Your power to rescue, to redeem, to restore, to tear the veil, to show Yourself strong, to raise Your banner of Salvation, to make good of what my enemy meant for harm, then I could walk away from this season of intercession that feels like tearing of actual flesh.   I could get up from this spiritual place and pretend that it doesn't exist, Lord- that would truly be easier than this."

But I don't want to.  Not even a little. 

From:  "God, this would be so much easier if I trusted you more," while weeping, terrified,

            "This would be so much easier if I trusted you less," while smiling, hands held high, confident in my Father, even though He hasn't opened the door yet.

Oh, what a beautiful journey.

And so, I'm able to live 1 Thessalonians 5:18.  (Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.)  Thank You, Father for this season that I thought might break me.  Thank you for allowing me to question my faith in You.  Thank you for taking me to deep, deep places in prayer, so deep that I found You, my faithful Friend, my faithful Father!