A few weeks ago, in the early morning hours, I whispered, Speak Lord.
And yet my heart faltered and the words died in my throat.
I wasn’t sure I could bear what absolute Holiness might say to me.
My weakness, inadequacy, and failure crept into my consciousness,
And the enemy pierced my heart with guilt and doubt.
Then the waters of my soul stirred with the voice of God…Do you trust me?
Hesitantly, I whispered, Speak Lord.
And while the words were still on my lips, He spoke…
My love for you reaches beyond the most distant dust of the universe
And beyond your greatest fears;
My compassion enters the abyss of darkness
And embraces your weakness and failure;
My heart yearns for you just as you are.
I AM with you.
I AM holding your right hand.
I AM your way, your truth and your very life.
I will do immeasurably more than all you can ask or imagine.
Trust Me.
The Magnificent Wallowas
I gaped at the snowy peaks of the Wallowa Mountains this week for the first time and wondered why it took me so long to get here. Entering the land of the Wallowas is stepping into the presence of breath-taking majesty. The spectacular mountains rise nearly straight up from lush meadows creating a skyline of craggy peaks blanketed by evergreen forests. The dramatic vista creates a deep sense of awe and wonder. I asked a local woman if she ever stopped seeing them, and she said, “No, I’m amazed at their beauty every day.” The quiet beauty of this magnificent land in the northeast corner of Oregon breathes a serenity into the air and into the soul that ventures into this hallowed place.
My friend, Debbie, and I spent a day wandering through the nearby artsy community of Joseph enjoying its culture, heritage and soul. The bronze sculptures and good food were highlights, but there’s just something about the sauntering jingle of spurs from a couple of passing cowboys.
The second day, we took the tram up the side of Mt. Howard and stood on the top of the 8,150 foot peak. The air is definitely thinner at that elevation or I’m getting pathetically out of shape…or perhaps, both. The panorama is even more spectacular from the summit with peak after peak stretching into the distance. Silvery ribbons of melting snow rush down a nearby mountain and into Wallowa Lake.
A prevalent bird in the subalpine forest of the peak is Clarke’s Nutcracker. I saw several of them and did a little research on the bird and discovered another revelation of God. These birds feed predominantly on the seeds of the whitebark pine. They eat some and bury some for the long winter months. According to Keith Pohs in his book, The Wallow Mountains, A Natural History Guide, “Studies have shown that about one in three seed caches buried by the bird goes unrecovered, and these seeds often sprout into new trees. The bird’s ability to carry many seeds at one time and its tendency to bury them at the perfect depth for germination appears to be an evolutionary co-adaptation with the pine.” Isn’t God amazing? He orchestrates even the details of the Clarke’s Nutcracker food preference, the perfectly shaped beak to get to it, and the cone structure and reproduction cycle of whitebark pines. Amazing.
The great Wallowa peaks all point in unison to the heavens and silently shout the magnificent greatness of their Creator. Spending a few days here between these towering peaks and on top of one has given me a new perspective on dwelling in the shelter of the Most High and resting in the shadow of the Almighty. May I never stop seeing His beauty and being overwhelmed by His majesty – every day.
Grieve Well
The morning of April 18, 2017 was the morning that God had planned from eternity past to lift Dick Kearns from the bonds of his body and into the loving embrace of Jesus Christ. All Dick’s days, from conception to death, were ordained by God and written in His book before one of them came to be. His short story on this planet ended on that April morning, but the rest of his eternal story has only just begun.
Dick is the husband of Dixie, one of the 10 women I share life with. We’re called Heirborne, a worship band of all women, and we worship together, pray together, cry together and celebrate God together. We road trip around Oregon dragging sound equipment and instruments to various retreats and events and have a blast.
We’ve been together for more years than I can remember helping and praying each other through the struggles and joys of living of life. Even now, as I type this, one of us was just admitted to the hospital and the text messages of prayer are flying.
Dixie is one of the five vocalists of Heirborne and sings alto. The evening of April 18, she came to rehearsal as usual but grieving. We wrapped our arms, our hearts and our prayers around her. At Dick’s memorial service, we sang, I Will Rise, and, to the astonishment of everyone in the room, Dixie stepped onto the platform, stood front and center with Jamey and Marcy on one side and Rhonda and Denice on the other and she sang out her heart…
There’s a peace I’ve come to know
Though my heart and flesh may fail
There’s an anchor for my soul
I can say “It is well”
And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles’ wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise, I will rise
I don’t think there was a dry eye in the room. Mine certainly weren’t.
At rehearsal last Tuesday night, she brought a poem she had written and read it to us because she wanted us to know this man of hers whom she deeply loves. I asked if I could post it, and she, rather hesitantly, agreed. I pray that her grief and her hope touches that place in every heart that has known grief.
WHEN I GET HOME
By Dixie Kearns
Going off to work each morning,
Leaving you asleep, alone –
No goodbye or sad forlorning,
You’ll be here when I get home.
Driving home in dark of evening,
Knowing what awaits me soon,
“Is that you, hon? How’s your day been?
I’m sure glad you’re home!”
Weekend brings us both together –
Time to share our lives as one.
‘So good to be with one another,
Joining hearts in our church home.
Family loved and family needing,
Oft I leave to serve my own.
But my heart is always seeking
To come back to you at home.
You received a Godly vision,
Though its scope is still unknown.
You completed your great mission
And God began to call you home
Days of pain and days of suffering,
You endured a mass of stone.
No hope is medicine now offering.
You want just to be back home.
God is good and God is gracious.
My Love, if only I had known
How short was time and moments precious
‘Til Jesus came and took you home.
Now I drive in evening darkness,
Rememb’ring how your lovelight shone.
Up ahead I face great sadness –
You’re not there when I get home.
Loving you so long and deeply –
How to live now that you’re gone?
Memories surround me sweetly.
How I yearn for you at home!
Someday traveling will be over,
No more miles be left to roam.
Then I’ll finally see my Savior.
And you’ll be there when I go home.
Dixie is pictured with the rest of Heirborne on the Events page.
Song of the Soul
Sometimes suffering casts a heavy shadow over my faith and I wonder if God is still there and still cares. Sometimes it seems like He’s on vacation sipping ice tea in some remote corner of the galaxy and has forgotten about my struggles in the miniscule corner of the planet I occupy.
My humanity doubts when things are hard. Tied by the invisible bonds of gravity to the ground, I’m unable to see what lies beyond in the boundless dimension of eternity. Life is hard, people suffer, I experience loss and it seems like God has gone missing when I need Him most.
Asaph felt the same way when he penned Psalm 77. He cried out to God in a time of great distress and reached for Him in his despair only to find Him absent.
When I was in deep trouble, I searched for the Lord. All night long I prayed, with hands lifted toward heaven, but my soul was not comforted. I think of God, and I moan, overwhelmed with longing for his help. Psalm 77:2-3, NLT
The melody of Asaph’s mournful lament is familiar today – Have You rejected me, God? Has Your unfailing love finally failed? Have You forgotten Your promise to remember me? Have You given up on me? Have I finally worn out Your compassion and exhausted Your love? In a secret corner of our hearts, the same questions haunt us.
Then Asaph inserted a selah in the music – a silent pause to reflect and listen. As his overwhelmed spirit sighed in the pause, he picked up a quiet refrain issuing from the heart of God like the deep sustaining tones of a cello. Then lifted on the undercurrent of those rich tones, he began to recall the greatness of Jehovah.
But then I recall all you have done, O Lord; I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago. They are constantly in my thoughts. I cannot stop thinking about your mighty works. O God, your ways are holy. Is there any god as mighty as you? You are the God of great wonders! You demonstrate your awesome power among the nations. Psalm 77:11-14, NLT
Asaph’s circumstances didn’t change, but the song of his soul shifted from lament to hope and joy when he remembered the faithfulness of his God.
Jeremiah’s lament echoes the same despair turned to hope: The thought of my suffering and homelessness is bitter beyond words. I will never forget this awful time, as I grieve over my loss. Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning. I say to myself, “The Lord is my inheritance; therefore, I will hope in him!” Lamentations 3:19-24, NLT
In our days of difficulty and distress, when we think God has left us to sort it out on our own, He waits for us to pause and remember. Then, in the selah, we pick up the rich sustaining tones of His greatness and power. The warm resonance of those great strings sing of His goodness and love. This love is unaffected by our failures and doubts. His attention and affection do not ebb and flow with our circumstances, our needs or even our response or lack of response to Him. His compassions never fail, and His loving embrace never loosens. From His song, lament turns to hope and hope to joy. Perhaps the deepest joy follows the deepest lament.
Unspeakable Majesty
Oh, ancient mystery, unspeakable majesty, overwhelm me with Your unfathomable Presence.
Holy fire, set Your flame into the marrow of my bones and consume me.
Cry Your Spirit words until “Abba, Father” wells up and overflows my heart with exquisite glory!
Anneli Anderson, original acrylic, 2013
2016 Reflections
The last couple of days I’ve spent a little time looking back at 2016 and rereading my journal. I don’t journal every day or every week, but I periodically pencil my prayers and thoughts and God-words. As I browsed the pages, I felt again the heartbeat of my prayers and felt the pulse of His behind it.
The page dated 1/1/16 begins with this prayer: “This year, Lord, I want to go deeper with You, abide more fully in Your love and taken into Your secrets and into rare intimacy with you. How my heart yearns for You, but quakes before my weakness and failures….Oh, wondrous love that accepts me as I am then fills me and lifts me to infinitely more than I deserve, more than I can conceive…and all that You desire. So, breathe in me a yearning for more of You. Stir the embers of my heart into a fiery love for You, and take me deeper and deeper into the secret place of rare intimacy with you, O God.”
This yearning for a deeper relationship and for rare intimacy with God continued pouring onto the pages of 2016. My inclination now is to judge how well I did in that pursuit and whether I achieved my goal, but there is a fatal flaw in that thread of thinking. Tug on it a bit, and my life unravels.
The intimacy and depth I long for isn’t something God awards to high achievers and do-gooders. It can’t be achieved by even the most spiritual or the rest of us in our more spiritual moments. If it could, then my relationship with God would be performance-based and not grace-based. If my faith rests on my faithfulness in the pursuit, then I am doomed and will surely fail…I have failed.
I wrote on June 12 that God doesn’t dangle something in front of me and ask me to attain it. Instead, He offers freely what only He can give and what I could never attain. He doesn’t demand that I muster up more doing power and greater faithfulness. I am called in my weakness to entrust my unfaithful self to the Mighty One who will do in me all that He wants of me and from me.
Deepening intimacy is the fruit and power of redeeming love, indeed, it is the aim of redemption…that I may be filled with all the fullness of God and enjoy a deepening experience of His nearness until the perfect image of Christ is formed in my soul.
So, I think it’s summed up like this: My part is to yield all I am and trust all He is. To just be who I am in Him and let Him be all He is in me.
It’s not just a 2016 or 2017 pursuit, it’s a calling to a lifetime journey. It’s yielding my time and my focus to sit every day at the feet of the Living God lost in wonder, love and praise.
Stir the embers of my heart into a fiery love for You, and take me deeper and deeper into the secret place of rare intimacy with you, O God.