I have been wondering lately, in my mind, not aloud, why I am in the precarious position that I am. What could God POSSIBLY be doing with me in this position? I am yoked to a man who does not believe the same as I, and as in love with him as I am, I find it difficult to sometimes keep my mouth shut. To respect his beliefs without dis-respecting my own. Also, I’ve been placed here by Him for a reason–to minister to women in my same situation. But in my small view, I just cannot see how. So I question. I wonder. I ask and ask and ask and ask. And quite frankly, I think the Lord is tired of me asking. I got this devotional in my email this morning. Coincidence? I think not.
All God’s dealings with us
(J. R. Miller, “Home Beautiful”, 1912)“Be silent before the Lord.” Psalm 37:7
We are not to speak back to God, when He speaks to
us. We are not to reason with Him or dispute with Him;
but are to bow in silent and loving acquiescence before
Him. “Be still, and know that I am God.” It is in those
providences which cut sorely into our lives, and require
sacrifice and loss on our part—that we are especially
called to this duty.There is a moving illustration of silence to God, in the
case of Aaron when his sons had offered strange fire,
and had died for their disobedience and sacrilege. The
record says, “And Aaron held his peace.” He made no
natural human outcry of grief. He accepted the terrible
penalty as unquestionably just—and bowed in the
acquiescence of faith.This silence to God, should be our attitude in all times
of trial, when God’s ways with us are bitter and painful.
Why should we complain at anything that our Father
may do? We have no right to utter a word of murmuring,
for He is our sovereign Lord; and our simple duty is instant,
unquestioning submission. We have no reason to complain
—for we know that all God’s dealings with us are in
loving wisdom. His will is always best for us—whatever
sacrifice or suffering it may cost.“I was silent; I would not open my mouth, for You
are the one who has done this!” Psalm 39:9
So if I were wise, I’d take the counsel of My God, and I’ll keep silent. I will know that He knows best.
Precious daughter of the King,
I am confident that your fervent desire to please God delights Him!
Please also remember as you move through this season of your life that God has written every moment of it in His book. Your name is engraved in the palm of His hand. We were created for relationship with the Almighty. He deserves and loves our honor, but He does not need it. Our honor can’t add one thing to God. Yet, we who are in Christ, honor Him out of obedience and even more out of wonder at His amazing love for us.
The Bible is the world’s greatest love letter. This letter from the King of Kings to his precious children is His roadmap, His battle plan, His blue print, His love letter, all designed to draw His precious creation back to right relationship with Him.
And relationship with God is the purpose for which we were created. We messed it up and He made a way for us to get back to Him. Amazing. It’s what God wants from us more than anything, and what He will not take without our permission and participation. It’s what we experience more and more of as we grow with Him.
The King of Kings and Lord of Lords knows your heart. When your cup is full, He wants you to pour it out to Him. He is not disappointed when you share your grief and even your anger with Him. Yes, maintain your awe and reverence, but if you’re furious, stamp your foot and throw a fit—He knows that’s how you’re feeling anyway.
The Psalms are also full of places where David, called by God Himself as a man after His own heart, cried out in despair and anger to the Lord. Where he pleaded for vengeance, retribution, justice, answers, resolution. (Psalm 13, for example). We are called to engage with people in this world differently as Christians, and we can do that by placing our desires for justice and righteousness in His capable hands, telling Him honestly, transparently how we feel, then trusting Him completely with the outcome.
If the Almighty God did not expect us to cry out in our agony (to Him—not whining, gossiping, sniping, dissention-mongering, etc.), He would not have given us the Psalms that expressed His children’s anguish. He would not have given us the book of Job. He would not have let us hear about Hannah’s anguish. Moreover, He would not have rewarded these people with such honor.
Your King is also your Daddy. He’s a good Daddy—Abba Father—who, while expecting and deserving reverence and awe, also desires that you crawl up in His lap, pour out your heart to Him, and let Him put His arms around you and comfort you like no earthly parent ever could. For those of us with a rough parental upbringing, this is a pretty hard concept to wrap our mind around. But His ways are not our ways, as you well know.
Beloved, the Lord who gave us Psalm 46, designed to fill you with courage in the face of terror, also gave us Psalm 131:1-2.
My heart is not proud, O Lord,
My eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
Or things to wonderful for me.
But I have stilled and quieted my soul;
Like a weaned child with its mother,
Like a weaned child is my soul within me.
And every mother knows that before a child is weaned and still and quiet sitting next to her mama, safe and trusting and peaceful, there have been lots of screaming, sleepless nights while that child learns that she can trust that parent completely, for all sustenance and love. When we face something gut-wrenching or terrifying or challenging—when we are alone and trying to figure it all out, we are like the infant, still learning to trust the Lord in this season, this situation, this challenge. Still learning to understand His provision, to be quieted by His love.
I’m not just writing this for you, of course, but for those who might read this and be going through similar situations. And there are many, believe me.
Beloved child of God, I urge you to be gentle with yourself during this stormy season of your life. Dare to walk boldly into the throne room of God Himself, and climb up on His lap. Sob and thrash and stomp and be as grumpy as you need to be (He loves you exactly as you are and is not disappointed in you). When you have exhausted your expression of confusion and grief, you’ll find you’re still on His amazing lap, you remain in His loving embrace, and you still have his complete unmerited acceptance. There, you’ll find yourself still. Quiet. Safe. At peace. And so near to your King—exactly where He wants you to be.