Yesterday, Sunday morning… they youngin’s went and had church up on the high ropes course. I didn’t join them because of my pulled calf muscle. I really … honestly … truly … enjoy ropes courses. I did the high ropes the last time we were here at Ridgecrest. I had a blast. The zip line, sliding from 40,000 feet to 10 feet from tree to tree hanging from a wire was my absolute favorite.
While there was a lot of noise when it was my turn, I didn’t sound like Tarzan but I didn’t sound like a little girl either.
After waking up I had church at the coffee shop over a banana nut muffin.
I took everything outside because it is wonderful being in the mountains. It might be warm and muggy for some but for me, now a six year Floridian boy, this is like dry(er) Spring! Very enjoyable. As I settled in I prayed something that was along the lines of, “here I am Jesus, it’s right before the conference and I want you to be pleased with everything … including what You want me to do. Please protect the youngin’s as they jump from tree to tree and help everyone traveling today get here safe. Finally, Would you speak to me?”
I love God’s Sovereignty. I love that He meets us all in the ways that we need to be met. I don’t know where I fall theologically with the next statement (not much concerned about it) but I always think God is speaking, will speak or has spoken. When I am looking, I look for Him in *everything.” I always reserve the right to be wrong. I am wrong a lot. But I do trust that either God will directly speak to me or speak through situations or environment. When I say environment, that is not to the exclusion of the “green” kind but also in simply what is going on around us in any given moment or circumstance. I don’t pride my”self” on any ability to hear or reason. I just know that I know He is faithful to lead/speak/ordain AND turn my meditations for good if I will submit to Him.
God certainly doesn’t have to speak to me on my time table … or even about my concerns. He doesn’t exist for my pleasure or satisfaction. I (one of the created) exist for His satisfaction (The Creator.)
That said, I usually find that He is very quick to respond, remind, reprimand, encourage, equip … laugh.
Yeah, I said it … I believe God laughs. Big hearty laughs too. I can’t wait to hear God chuckle in Person.
So, after asking God to speak to me, I notice all these scraps of paper on the ground. I walked around the little balcony area to pick up the different pieces. I did it primarily because it was annoying me that someone just ripped up paper and threw it on the ground. Then I got nosy and started trying to puzzle it together.
After about the third or fourth piece linked, I realized it was a letter to God. I could tell the author was female and what she was writing about but I stopped trying to piece the letter together. It felt like I was intruding on someone else’s prayer.
And the Holy Spirit didn’t give me permission to read someone else’s ripped up thrown to the wind only to be trampled on prayer. My heart sunk and the Lord spoke. The following chain of thoughts came into my head: How often do we cry out to God but in frustration say, “oh forget it” dash our prayers to pieces and leave them behind? … to be walked over, forgotten … degraded?
Then, how often does God go and gather up the fragments to pull the whole back out of the pieces?
I think He does every time we cry out, have a tantrum and give up. He never forgets the clean slate, the heart confession, the destruction. He is waiting for us to invite Him to come back through … to bring order out of what seems, to us, to be chaos.
My meditations were on the question of how many times are *we* willing to go back to those lost dreams, failed expectations or forgotten petitions and ask again, “Lord, what is Your Will in these matters? Empower me to understand.”
“Lord, Please repair my broken heart. Please help me not give up.”
Now granted, the actual letter might have gone on to reveal a mother praying that her daughter’s braces wouldn’t cost so much and her husband not wear that particular Hawaiian shirt anymore. The point is, the letter may not have been the epic heart cry I imagined it to be.
Regardless, the Lord spoke powerfully to me in an unexpected way, … cool.
All that to say, while it was different, church was really good yesterday morning.
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