A FEARFUL SOUND!

"So surely as the stars are fashioned by His hands, and their orbits fixed by Him, so surely are our trials allotted to us: He has ordained their season and their place, their intensity and the effect they shall have upon us."
Charles Haddon Spurgeon

"'That fearful sound of "fire" and "fire,"/Let no man know is my Desire.'" Her richly spoken words are numbing reality.   How well I remember first hearing those poetic phrases penned by Anne Bradstreet, initially learning  them in a college classroom.  I sat amazed as a non-traditional student who was in ignorance at the depth, honesty, intensity, and persuasion of a Puritan poet, whose out of abundance language brought life to page and truth to the journey of Christian living.

America's first woman poet poured many lyrical prayers and meditations of surrender and sacrifice.  In 1666, she lost all her material possessions to a devastating fire.  In 2000, one year after graduating from college, I had the privilege of reading and teaching her poetic verses of those losses to tenth graders.  I felt passionate about Anne's experience.  I wanted my students to share my passion and relate to her pain, to travel three centuries back with me to Anne's new world and connect with the soul-searching saga of one woman and her God.  To hear this woman's heartbeat and understand her godly affection and her influence in 17th century Amercia and our 21st century American life. 

In hearing her voice and heart, Anne Bradstreet became my heroine because of her faith in God and scriptural priorities.  Anne's courageous conclusion of "Upon the Burning of Our House" leaves me speechless each time I read it.  Breathless praise stills my soul when I walk with her on her voyage of private pain and sentiment to her letting-go of futility and grasping of holy, raw truth. Anne's godly take on life and loss bears hard in my soul, and it witnesses the fact of God's grace.  It is a grace for all us; yes, sweet friends, it is just as real now, in 2009, as it was in 1666. 

God is immutable.  He doesn't change.  His promises, his passions, his pleas for us are the same yesterday, today, and forever.  Thus, Anne's words remain.  Their urgency and appeal still move us.  They are timeless.  They speak truth.  They know love.  They give hope. 

"The world no longer let me Love, My hope and Treasure lyes Above." 

I have read those last lines so many times, yet I never imagined they would have their own particular part in my life.   

Last Sunday afternoon, November 8, I kept Olivia and Ella, two of my grandchildren. Both my son, Steven, and his wife had to work, and I savored the opportunity to have a little grandma time with the two little sweethearts, whom we call Baby Doll and Ella-Bella. Their mom arrived about 5:00 pm to take them home. Raychelle, my daughter-in-law, and I and the babies were in my den. Mommy and I were getting babies ready to go when suddenly we heard a terribly loud sound, like a gun or explosion.

We immediately and quickly moved toward the back door, opened it, and inhaled a noxious fume that had already saturated our screened porch and carport, where Raychelle had parked her car. Her engine had exploded, and flames were already licking their way toward our roof. We dared not approach our porch, which was engulfed with dense smoke. Rather, we grabbed the babies and the phone and quickly ran toward the opposite end of the house and out our front door.

Countless calls, copious words of comfort, two crying babies, and five fire trucks later, the drama ended. And its ending began a new adventure of awestruck, broken gratefulness to God for sparing the lives of Raychelle, Olivia, and Ella. The imaginations and discussions with family and friends have centered around God's mercy and grace. Two minutes later, Raychelle, Olivia, and Ella would have been in the car on their way home. My spirit is shaken with thoughts of those possibilities, but my spirit soars with gratitude for God's lovingkindness that spared our grief, and please believe me, words are really, really inadequate, but their inadequacy has not stopped my effortless giving of thanks.

Just as the explosive BOOM travelled beyond our home to surrounding neighbors, bringing sudden jolt and concern to all of us, I have been symbolically exploded from normal, day-to-day living into a sudden, compulsory journey of soul-moving praise and soul-searching surrender!

We have had some losses. I count them now as nothing.  They are replacable. Just things made out of elements of this unholy earth that God will one day fold like a garment.

What is a carport, a porch, stuff in an attic, insulation, smoke-damaged sofas and chairs and curtains and linens, and water-damaged wood? What are sooty-smelling clothes, quilts, books, lampshades, and carpet? Really, what are they?

What is it to be a little discomforted and inconvenienced?  What is to stand with your family and feel the shock of now and the wonder of tomorrow?  What is it to seek temporary stay?  What is a real home?

And what does it mean to be real and give everything we own to Jesus?  To put into perspective worldy elements that are at one momen material gifts from God and the next moment worthless gifts to Him?  What is annoying about picking up a lace garment so delicately formed, and tediously woven, one of many that was freshly laundered with particular care, but now reeks with toxic fumes and an oily pine scent meant to mask nasty smoke?  

By God's grace alone, his unmerited favor, his worthy, divine intervention for our unworthy, weak, fleshy abilities, everything, all of it, means rejoicing for what is new.  The passing, departing, of one frame of reference to a new point of vision.  A welcomed opportunity for a more certain path of this Christian life that can be obscurely bright - i.e., dim of understanding, yet oh so light with promise.  A possibility of looking behind at less and looking forward to grasp more.  A newer appreciation of God's mercy and grace, which I must have in volumes every moment of every day of my pilgrim life. 

From the perspective of limited loss (things could be much, much, worse), it feels pretty good to be inadequate, and though I'm living in the neighborhood of faith versus reason, my spirit is striving to soar with the uncomplicated truth that not understanding my entire life is absolutely OK.  What freedom there is in that one Biblical truth!

Do I need prayer?  Sure, I do.  Always!  But, please rejoice with me, too, for out of darkness comes light!    What Satan means for our discouragement and demise, God means for our good in Christ.  Hallelujah!  Friends, that is shouting ground! 

Sunday night after Steven, Raychelle, and babies were safe at home and Jeff and I were safe in a hotel, I went to the bathroom to get ready for bed.  For a few moments, the significance of everything rushed in like a flood.  The tears flowed as I thought of God's salvation and our unworthiness of his gift.  To be honest, my immediate reaction to the trauma had been quiet. I was speechless and just did not want to talk.  But the awareness of God's hand could not quench my praise and the knowledge of our near true losses were overwhelming to realize.

Thank God for his deliverance and salvation!  Thank God for his divine intervention!  Thank God for his provision and power!  And thank God for you, and I pray that as you ponder these words, he will move in and through your life with his mighty anointing and the reality of his love and lordship!  So many of you have been through and are going through hardships.  As I write, I am moved by your courage and victory as you face illness, family difficulites, lost loved ones, financial discouragements, depression, fear, death, and on and on. 

Please hear my heart.  God loves you.  And, he is at work to prove what is good and holy and acceptable in your relationship with him.  Jesus reigns!!!  Not just in heaven.  No, Christ reigns in your heart and life!  Within you is his kingdom!

And he hears your heart today.  He Who formed your heart knows the depths of it.  He Who formed your life knows the purpose of it.  The Lord, our omniscient Creator, knows your way.  And if that way is too narrow, or steep, or rocky, or unstable, or dark, or whatever, our God will deliver you and set your free! Beloved, may God bless you and reveal to you now and forever his everlasting love for you.   

"Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness" (Lamentations 3:22-23, NIV).

Below are images of God's divine intervention from last Sunday.

COLLISION!

"Faith isn't the ability to believe long and far into the misty future. It's simply taking God at His Word and taking the next step."

Joni Eareckson Tada

Just ten days ago, my husband and I returned from Springfield, Missouri, where we spent several days with our younger son, Chris, who was hospitalized. A late afternoon phone call had turned a typical Wednesday into flurry. The following morning, we rushed to Missouri, not knowing what illness had gripped Chris's life. His symptoms were intense and confusing to us and the doctors. And for some time, the culprit remained a mystery. Accordingly, the enemy worked his work of fear, speaking untruths to our minds.

Many stormed heaven on Chris's behalf! The prayers of saints poured into the throne room! God's people prayed! And Chris improved. Glory to God!!! (The doctors told Chris just two days ago he tested positive for salmonella. More tests are pending, and we believe, know, Chris will be 100% healthy!)

We left Springfield once Chris was home and stabilized. As we travelled back to Alabama, we were met by a car that swerved into our lane. Jeff and I gasped, inhaled, spoke the name of Jesus. My husband had just enough room and time to move to the right, avoiding a tragedy for our family.

Arriving home about 10:00 Monday evening, I unpacked our suitcases, while Jeff went to Ruby Tuesday's to get us a salad. We ate, watched a little television, and got ready for bed. Our phone rang early Tuesday morning. You've had those phone calls. The ones that feel important when you hear the first ring. I had just awakened, but was still in bed. Jeff was in the kitchen making coffee, and he answered the phone. Five minutes later he came into the bedroom and announced that a dear friend had, in the night, left his mortal body to join the Lord. It was sudden death. Unexpected. A shock.
Danny's death was a blow to his family and all who knew him. He was a vibrant, fifty-seven year old man, who made everyone who knew him feel a little more special after leaving his presence. My husband and I stood in line at the funeral home two hours before we were able to greet the family. Danny was much loved.
Ten minutes after arriving home from the visitation, my phone rang. Seeing it was my sister, and knowing a late evening phone call from her was rare, I answered with concern and immediately heard the stress in her voice. "I hit a deer on my way home from work tonight. I think my car is totaled."
My sister, Nancy, was OK, but the pressing thought of a near-missed tragedy bore its truth through my heart like a laser. Later, we learned Nancy's life was spared because the deer did not go through her windshield. Our family praises God, and deems my sister's survival a miracle. Angels were near, and saved us from overwhelming grief. My dear friends, I am not sharing these incidents out of fear. I am not sharing out of depression or anxiety about the future. I am certainly not sharing to gain pity or to manipulate emotions. I am sharing because of reality. The reality of our faith! The reality of our lives! That our fleshly tabernacles are simply housing our souls, which can depart this world in a matter of seconds. With no warning. With no control of ours or others. With no choice of life or death.

And such stark reality brings home a collision of faith and flesh. Recent circumstances have brought me face to face with self. I have looked. Searched. Questioned. Pondered and wondered my faith, its strength and its weakness. Looked in the eyes of uncertainty and realized the shaky state it can bring. Realized the only certain situation in this mortal life is uncertainty itself.

Collision of faith and flesh is stunning. It is gritty reality right in your face. It can be quite rude and ugly. Its abruptness raises personal inspection, a microscopic look of survival faith, that part of your life in God that is left when living gives you less than best, or worse that worst.

A simple knowledge of God, dear friends, is not breath enough for survival faith. No, survival faith, the shattered remains from collision of faith and flesh, must have something more. Deep roots, fertile soil, good water, tender care. A divine taproot that glues faith fibers together, so that no tugging, pulling, or digging can transplant or destroy our life in God.

Greater than physical life and greater than human emotions, survival faith is staying strength. Our lives are fragile. Tender. Always changing. In a moment's notice or less, our world can turn upside down. Stability turn to chaos. Joy become sorrow. Love lead to loss.
But for the taproot of Jesus Christ, our faith would be vague in those moments. Without Him, we would stumble in our darkened rooms for faith's failing glow.
Yet, there is no stumbling, when our taproot is strong. Jesus is divine light and strength. He is our intercessor. He is our peace. Our comforter. Deliverer. Friend. The I Am Who is more sure, more certain, than every uncertainty. The Faithful, Changeless One Who remains in our faithless, vague moments.

I desire divine light and life. I am praying God will purify my faith. To be honest, it's an intimidating prayer. I fear what testing it may bring, but the silent alternative will only give stagnation: a state of inactivity; still waters, without current or circulation. What an unbearable thought of compromised Christianity! No, I must choose to venture into deep waters with God.

I don't want to be stale, my dear friends. I want, need, must have living water that mightily flows through my spirit. I crave a river of God that sanctifies and changes who I am. Not only for myself, but for my husband, my children, grandchildren, family, church, and friends. And most of all, for the glory of God! That God would be glorified in my life in all things! That in everything I do others would see less of me and more of Jesus!
Many have chosen deep waters. So many saints have had devastating, life-changing collisions, not just potential traumas, with faith and flesh. So many servants of God have given all they have for the kingdom. Their stamina of faith puts me to shame! Their lives of victory challenge my life of less! Their belief in God for great things proves my life simple. Their joy in trials gives me hope, however, for pure faith!

May the Lord give us grace to allow Him to take survival faith and multiply its seed. With joy, let's pray to grasp Christ's hand and trust Him as He leads to deep waters, though their isolation and profoundness overwhelm us. May every challenge in life send us to the mirror; to see reality of flesh; to face the truth of human inability; to turn to a limitless God; to hope in the Hope of our salvation; to trust in His name, El Roi, the Responder to needs; to take Christ's hand and believe His leadership as best, even if He guides to deep waters. Even if faith and flesh collide!

Heavenly Father, please help me to learn complete trust in you. It is a process, dear Lord, and I must yield to its work in my life. May I, in faith, take your hand, in all situations, and walk with you to deep waters. In Jesus' name, Amen.

*When thinking of those whose faith has survived truly amazing challenges, I am reminded of Paul, Abraham, Joseph, Daniel, and so many others in the Bible. I also think of Elisabeth Elliot, Corrie Ten Boom, and Catherine Marshal, and Amy Carmichael. And then there are those so closely connected, whose everyday personal lives are overwhelmed with the need for survival faith. I have seen many here on blogger, whose lives are beautiful testimonies of God's amazing grace and His ability to carry us when faith and flesh collide.

When you think of survival faith, whose life most influences you? Perhaps it is one from God's word, or another saint from history, a contemporary individual, even someone you personally know.


*Research and scripture are from www.thefreedictionary.com and www.biblegateway.com