Into thin air...
That's sometimes what it feels like when I write on this blog--haha! The words go out and who knows who reads them? But that is not for me to question or wonder about--I'm beginning to see the bigger picture.
Into Thin Air is also the title of an epic book (which I have never read) about an expedition to climb Mount Everest--and that resonates with my spirit because so often lately I feel as though I have begun a journey up into the high country--where Jesus alone can meet me, for no one else knows the way--and it has been excruciating at times. I've been reading a book called Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy and Fairy Tale and Frederick Buechner keeps coming back to this theme of silence--that what is in the silence is what is truly true of us, and that we don't handle silence very well--its too vulnerable. The Gospel is found in the silence, because silence strips us down and makes us see that we are truly dirty wretches who need deliverance. He says at one point, as he speaks about how clothes also are a way we protect ourselves and show our false facade to the world just so we can get by, "I speak of clothes not just as hypocrisy and disguise, though sometimes that for all of us, God knows, but of clothes as essential to survival because we cannot endure too much nakedness any more than we can endure too much silence, which strips us naked" (pg. 32).
That phrase struck me and won't let me go, because that has been my experience the past several months--silence. Silence where you have to look deep in your soul and confront all your thoughts and find out just who you are and what you believe. No wonder I fought so hard to stay away from it, filling my time with noise (youtube, facebook, movies, etc.)--I just wasn't sure I could survive it. Could I endure the voice that wonders continually, "Am I doing well enough? Is He pleased with me?" when I was doing nothing (work wise)? Could I endure my doubts and false hopes and expectations that I place on myself that I can't help but flub? Could I endure all my feelings of unrighteouness, and all the ways I cry out for God to be enough, but am never sure He is, because I am not?
It was (and is) a lot. I have to live with my human self--and sometimes that is cross enough to bear (again, this is an idea from Buechner's book and I think he makes a good point--we have to endure and face just being us before we can pick up any other responsibilities, ministries, etc.) But you know what this journey into thin air (and unemployment :) has taught me?
It's taught me that Jesus is enough--not Jesus plus my works, not Jesus plus how much I am reading my Bible, not Jesus plus the ministry I get to serve Him in--JUST JESUS! When I cry out, He answers, not because I was especially close to Him as I read my Bible and set aside an hour to sit at His feet (though the blessedness of that is worth the time--ALWAYS!); but because I am HIS KID! He is listening for my cry and ready to move as I ask--He's just waiting and aware and able to move. When I reach the end of myself and find that there is nothing in me to be proud of, He still owns me and lets me know with butterflies and rainbows in waterfalls and a million other tiny, seemingly silly acts and signs that He is close and He loves me where I am...I mean, talk about freedom! It's like walking in a fog my whole life and finally seeing sunlight. I am at my lowest--and He loves and enjoys me still. Imagine the glories of heaven--and He wants me to be with Him there, even now, when I have nothing to offer--HE JUST WANTS ME!
I pray that all of you may know the blessedness of possessing nothing and having no works to offer to the Father--and find Him faithful and near still. He has lifted my head so many times these past few (long!) weeks and brought along just the right word, touch or hope to make the silence bearable. I pray you have the time to come face to face with who you are--free of accomplishments, reputation, what you've done or will do--and know your worth IN HIS EYES there. There is no greater freedom than to stand before the God of the universe naked and bare, with nothing to offer and hear Him call out, "My Son! My Daughter! How I have been longing to see you! Come close!" The joy of that cry is beyond telling--I am privileged far beyond what can be seen with human eyes.
I love You, Papa. Thank You for loving me.
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