I recently participated in Beth Moore's Bible study on Esther.
I recently visited Atlantic City, NJ.
Those two pieces are only connected because both are a Big Deal in my life right now.
(Although I do believe that if King Xerxes were my contemporary, he would have totally hosted his stupid little pageant thingy in Atlantic City.)
Beth Moore taught.
God spoke.
To me.
Right where I am at.
Oh. It was good.
I was encouraged. I laughed alot.
I was challenged, confronted and convicted.
It was the kind of good that was h.a.r.d. too.
It squeezed on the inside real tight, till tears ran down the cheeks of this girl who really doesn't like to cry.
I cried for the little girl with the broken heart.
The orphan girl.
The girl who was asked to keep a secret.
The girl who was picked to be queen...
Which really didn't seem to mean much more than
having a title, wearing a crown, hosting a party every now and then...
and moving from one part of the harem to another.
I cried for the girl who had not been called by her husband in thirty days...
The all grown up little girl...who now had One More Hard Thing to do.
That One Thing she could not do.
That One Thing that could cost her, her life.
I cried for the other all grown up little girl with broken heart pieces too... me.
I cried because of my own One Thing.
All of them. Because I have had many, many One Things.
It may be as distant and brief as the day's tragic headlines.
Something heartwrenching. tragic. awful. unbearable on this planet.
Oh God. You know. That is the One Thing that I cannot do.
I'd never survive that.
It may be as close and long and hard as a dear friend's broken heart.
And again, I find myself
~ rolling my eyes skyward, as if God lingers casually in some far-off heavenly peripheral ~
announcing, "That's the One Thing I cannot do!"
"And don't you test me on this!!!"
I have taken my fears, my painful realities, my many One Things,
going to Him
not as needy child 'casting my cares' on a Loving Dad,
but demanding
that He be my God this way
Or that way.
MY way.
On this side of the line that I have drawn.I can and will trust you here...but not there.
Because God. You know. That is...these are... the One Things that I cannot do.
"To the devil, the irony is delicious: Our distrust of God tattles on us, telling our enemy exactly how to get to us. Many of us habitually rehearse," If _________happens, then I'll just_________." Our fears become like long bony index fingers pointing at our vulnerabilities. Once Satan sees what we believe would be the end of us, he threatens and torments...Our conditional trust not only makes us an open target for enemy torment; it positions us as negotiators and beggars before God instead of secure children who trust their lives to their Faithful Father."
"Those times when our fears become reality we feel devastated. We think that God is unfaithful, and Satan essentially gets what he wants---us to believe that our life is over. Unless our belief system changes, for all practical earthly purposes, it is. After all, as a man thinks, so is he (Proverbs 23:7) "
"Don't misunderstand. I'm a huge proponent of praying against what we fear and for the desires of our hearts. I also believe that we're free and safe to voice our worst nightmares to God. In times of crisis and demonic attack,
however, our vulnerable souls need something more. the most critical breakthrough of faith you and I could ever experience is to let God bring us to a place where we trust Him ---period. We don't just trust Him to let us avoid what we fear most. We determine to trust Him no matter what, even if our worst nightmare befalls us. We have no greater victory and can render Satan no harsher blow."
"No one welcomes suffering. Equally, no one can wholly avoid it. Though most of what we fear never happens, our lists roll out so long that some of it probably will. Our only steadfast defenses against life's certain uncertainty is unconditional trust in a Savior who loves us more than His own life."
"As hard as trusting can be, living with constant fears is harder." (Beth Moore)
Because with all of the One Things that really don't happen? I am living as if they will.
Atlantic City is a One Thing for me.
It represents one of the One Things that I said I would never do.
I always said that I would never contact my biological father.
Never.
I would never voluntarily stick my neck out for that kind of rejection.
Why would I set myself up for more pain?!
I.will.never.go.there.
Just let me entertain an imagined happily ever after story.
I could not survive more rejection.
Who knew that Atlantic City is located just outside of Egypt???
Egypt for me? Bondage.
I started calling "it" Egypt, after hearing Sarah Grove's song,
"Painting Pictures of Egypt."
My bondage? Fear.
Fear of rejection and subsequently desperately. seeking. the. approval. of. man.
Leaving Egypt required dying.
A dying p-r-o-c-e-s-s, actually, and yet I am to go on living.
~the death of my good ideas. my dreams. my comfortable arrangements. my line in the sand.
and much, much more than I can possibly write here.
"Anytime God calls us to die, His purpose is to reveal larger life." (Beth Moore)
And it took me to Atlantic City.
My biological father grew up there. It was home to him.
I know that now because last summer I contacted him. for. the. very. first. time. ever.
So I have been
Sometimes they make Egypt look better. And I start "painting pictures."
Sometimes...alot of times...I am telling Him that I didn't want larger life forcryingrightoutloud.
But I have found ~am findING.
Have learned ~am learnING...
that He is not crossing His arms, with a loud disapproving sniff, raising a superior eyebrow, waiting for me to choke out some kind of cheer about dying...
His arms are just closed...Around Me.
I am Held.
I am held.
I am held.
And while this may bunch up someone's theological pants,
Having faith... for me... right now... is looking up at Him,
in this stinkin' hard desert place that I am at
and
gathering manna
for the day.
Hoping for hope...and the Promised Land.
That is all.
Our hearts will never be at rest
away from the One who made them.
~ St. Augustine
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