Embraced

by Lysa TerKeurst

  I get so focused on the mess, I miss the miracles.

  Miracle!

  But we also find earlier in verse 3, “And they took offense at him.”

  We find Him having great compassion on the people who followed Him in the feeding of the five thousand. They all ate and were satisfied by five loaves and two fish.

  Miracle!

  But we also see that Jesus and His disciples were physically depleted, “because so many were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat” (v. 31).

  Messy realities tucked in the midst of miracles.

  And isn’t it so like us to miss this about Jesus’ everyday life? We hyper-focus on the lines of Scripture containing the miracles so much that we miss the detail of the mess.

  Jesus had people laugh at Him and reject Him and misunderstand Him. We know this in theory, but as I sat on that rock that day I suddenly realized what an everyday reality this was for Him.

  Now, here’s what happens to me in my life: I get so focused on the mess, I miss the miracles.

  And that’s the very thing that happens to the disciples right after the feeding of the five thousand. They got in a boat and strong winds caused the water to get very rough. The disciples were straining at the oars as the realities of life beat against them.

  Jesus was on the mountainside praying. From Mount Arbel, Jesus could see the middle of the lake where the disciples were. Mark 6:47–48 says, “Later that night, the boat was in the middle of the lake, and he was alone on land. He saw the disciples straining at the oars, because the wind was against them.”

  Jesus saw them. He went down to them. And they missed the miracle in the midst of the mess.

  The same miracle worker that multiplied the fish and the loaves was now walking on the water near them and they thought He was a ghost. They were terrified and then were amazed, but they didn’t understand, for the Scriptures say, “their hearts were hardened” (v. 52).

  It seems to me Jesus has a pattern of performing miraculous acts in the setting of messes.

  This revelation led me to a gut-honest prayer, Oh Lord, let me see this. Please don’t let the messes of life harden my heart and blind me to Your presence. Instead of being so terrified in the midst of the mess, might I keep the picture of You, watching me, always watching me. And might I find courage in the assurance that You will come to me with Your miraculous presence.

  Yes, I need to spend a whole lot less time trying to fix the messes in my life . . . and a whole lot more time keeping my heart soft in the process.

  Then I won’t miss the miraculous work of Jesus in the midst of my mess.

  Dear Lord, You are so good. Help me see Your hand working even in the midst of things that seem to be messes. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

  55

  DEALING WITH DEEP GRIEF

  The LORD is close to the brokenhearted

  and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

  —PSALM 34:18

  Losing someone you love can cut into your heart so viciously it forever redefines who you are and how you think. It’s what I call deep grief.

  It strains against everything you’ve ever believed. So much so, you wonder how the promises that seemed so real on those thin Bible pages yesterday could possibly stand up under the weight of this enormous sadness today.

  I once stood at the side of a casket too small to accept. Pink roses draped everywhere. And I watched my mom as she lay across the casket refusing to let go. How could she let go? Part of her heart lay within, so quiet and so still.

  I stood paralyzed and stunned. Just days ago we were laughing and doing everyday things and assuming that all of our lives stretched before us in spans of many, many years. And then suddenly . . . it all stopped.

  In the flurry of funeral plans and memorial services we all operated on automatic. People were everywhere. Soft chatter filled in the gaps that our stunned silence could not. And people brought in enough food to feed the whole neighborhood.

  But eventually people went back to their own lives. The soft chatter dissipated. The food stopped coming. And we were forced to carry on. Only we had deep grief wrapped about us that made our throats feel strangled and our feet stuck in mud.

  Dear Lord, thank You for assuring me that Your promises hold true even when life seems to betray me.

  I remember around that time when I tried to go to a drive-through to order some food. But I couldn’t. I sat there with the speaker spouting words at me I couldn’t process. The cashier kept asking if she could take my order.

  Yeah, I had an order. Take away my bloodshot eyes. Take away my desire to hurt the doctors that couldn’t save my little sister. Take away my anger toward God. And then take away my guilt for being the one who lived. I’ll take all that with no onions and extra ketchup, please.

  I drove away sobbing. How dare they offer happy meals! No one should be happy today. Or tomorrow. Or next year.

  This is the reality of deep grief. Even when you love God and believe in His promises. Even when you know without a doubt that someday you will see your loved one again. Even when you know hope is still there. Even when you know He is near.

  It takes time.

  It takes wading through an ocean of tears.

  It takes finding a possession of your loved one you thought was lost and realizing God did that just to comfort you. It takes discovering one day that the sun still shines. It takes being caught off guard when you catch yourself smiling, only to realize it’s okay.

  It takes prayer. It takes making the decision to stop asking for answers and start asking for perspective. It takes believing Psalm 34:18 is true even on the days it doesn’t feel true—that the Lord is indeed close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. It takes telling people to please not avoid saying her name—you want to hear it, over and over and over again.

  Then one day you take off the blanket of deep grief. You fold it neatly and tuck it away. You no longer hate it or resist it. For underneath it, wondrous things have happened over time. Things that could only have come about when Divine Hope intersects with a broken world.

  And, finally, you can see years stretching before you once again. You look up, blow a kiss, wipe a tear, and find it’s still possible to dance.

  Dear Lord, thank You for assuring me that Your promises hold true even when life seems to betray me. You are my strength and my hope. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

  56

  WHY ISN’T GOD ANSWERING MY PRAYER?

  In the course of time Hannah became pregnant and gave birth to a son.

  —1 SAMUEL 1:20

  Have you ever cried over something so much that you run out of tears? Your swollen eyes just give out and dry up while a current of unrest still gushes through your soul. And you look up toward heaven in utter frustration.

  Me too.

  And there’s someone else in the Bible who was right there as well.

  She felt provoked and irritated. Her anguish was so intense that she wept and would not eat. Before the Lord, she cried out in bitterness of soul, “LORD Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant . . . then I will . . .” (1 Samuel 1:11).

  These words describe and articulate the deep distress of a woman from thousands of years ago, and yet here I sit in modern times relating so completely. They are from the woman named Hannah found in 1 Samuel 1.

  Hannah’s tears over her empty womb were made even more painful by her husband’s other wife, Peninnah. She had many sons and daughters and made sure to rub this fact in Hannah’s face every chance she got.

  A common thread weaves through Hannah’s story, and yours and mine. We can all be found desperately wanting something we see the Lord giving to other women. We see Him blessing them in the very areas He’s withholding from us. We look at them and feel set aside.

  God loves us too much to answer our prayers at any other time than the right time.

  Why them? Why not me
?

  Then the seemingly unjust silence from God ushers us from a disturbed heart to a bitter soul. And we start to feel something deep inside that contradicts everything we hold true: If God is good, why isn’t He being good to me in this?

  And in this moment of raw soul honesty, we’re forced to admit we feel a bit suspicious of God. We’ve done all we know to do. We’ve prayed all we know to pray. We’ve stood on countless promises with a brave face. And still nothing.

  So what do we do when we feel set aside? What do we do when our hearts are struggling to make peace between God’s ability to change hard things and His apparent decision not to change them for us?

  We do what Hannah did. We keep pressing in.

  Instead of taking matters into her own hands, Hannah took her requests to God. Instead of pulling away from Him in suspicion, she pressed in ever closer, filling the space of her wait with prayer.

  Oh, how I love her unflinching faith. Where barrenness and mistreatment by Peninnah could have caused Hannah to completely lose heart, she refused to be deterred from trusting in God. She possessed a faith that was not contingent upon her circumstances, but based on what she knew to be true about her good and faithful God. A faith that led her to pray with so much passion and boldness in the tabernacle that Eli, the high priest, accused her of being drunk (1 Samuel 1:13–14)!

  And in a matter of four verses (17–20), her cries of anguish gave way to the cries of her newborn son. Of course, 1 Samuel 1:20 uses very clear words to let us know Hannah’s answer didn’t come right away: “In the course of time Hannah became pregnant and gave birth to a son” (emphasis mine).

  Samuel was born in God’s perfect timing. And the timing of his birth was imperative because Samuel was destined to play an integral role in the transition from the time of the judges to the eventual establishment of kingship for the Israelites.

  God hadn’t made Hannah wait to punish her. He hadn’t been callous or indifferent to her cries. And He’s not ignoring those of us waiting either.

  God loves us too much to answer our prayers at any other time than the right time.

  Is there a prayer you’ve been waiting on God to answer for so long that you’re just about ready to give up? Keep pressing in to Him, friend. Don’t pull away. Fill the space where your heart aches with prayer, trusting that in the course of time everything will work out according to God’s perfect plan.

  Father God, thank You so much for reminding me today that You are not ignoring me. You hear every cry of my heart. Will You please help me in the waiting? Help me trust Your perfect timing. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

  57

  A LITTLE MAD AND A LOT CONFUSED

  From the ends of the earth I call to you,

  I call as my heart grows faint;

  lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

  —PSALM 61:2

  We talked in our last devotion about how hard it can be when God doesn’t seem to be answering our prayers. Those times when our hearts hurt and our eyes leak while the “why” questions tumble in one after the other. And in those raw moments we can feel a little mad and a lot confused.

  I don’t want to oversimplify what to do in these times. I know from prayer requests I’ve received over the years many of us are facing tough issues. Situations where the answers aren’t easy or clear-cut.

  But I have discovered a few things that help me when God seems silent.

  Press in to God when you want to pull away.

  When I really want to hear from God but He seems silent, I sometimes find I want to disengage from my normal spiritual activities. Skip church. Put my Bible on my shelf. And let more and more time lapse between prayers.

  Our God is big enough to handle our honest feelings.

  But Psalm 61:2 reminds us that the best thing we can do when our hearts are growing faint is to call out to God, not pull away from Him. The Bible also promises we will find God if we seek Him with all our heart. Jeremiah 29:13, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” All my heart includes the parts that are broken. Bring it all to God.

  He can handle your honesty and will respond. But we have to position ourselves to go where truth is. Go to church. Listen to praise music. Read verses. Memorize verses. And keep talking to God.

  Praise God out loud when you want to get lost in complaints.

  In the midst of what you’re facing, find simple things for which to praise God. I don’t mean thank Him for the hard stuff. I mean thank Him for the other simple, good things still in the midst. A child’s laugh. A bush that blooms. The warmth of a blanket. The gift of this breath and then the next.

  Psalm 40:3 reminds me God will give me a new song when I make praise the habit of my heart and mouth. “He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the LORD and put their trust in him.”

  Put yourself in the company of truth.

  That friend that speaks truth? Listen to her. Stay connected to her. Let her speak truth into your life even when you’re tired of hearing it. Stand in the shadow of her faith when you feel your own faith is weak. Let her lead you back to God time and time again.

  Proverbs 12:26, “One who is righteous is a guide to his neighbor” (ESV).

  It’s okay to feel a little mad and a lot confused. Our God is big enough to handle our honest feelings. But don’t let your feelings lead you away from God or away from His truth. Press into Him. Praise Him. And put yourself in the company of truth.

  As you stay with God in these ways, you will become ready to receive His answer when it comes.

  Dear Lord, thank You for hearing every “why” my heart sends up to You. Forgive me when I retreat from You and Your Word. I want to trust You more. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

  58

  THE STING OF DISAPPOINTMENT

  Though the fig tree does not bud

  and there are no grapes on the vines,

  though the olive crop fails

  and the fields produce no food,

  though there are no sheep in the pen

  and no cattle in the stalls,

  yet I will rejoice in the LORD,

  I will be joyful in God my Savior.

  —HABAKKUK 3:17–19

  Recently a friend asked me if I ever get disappointed. I said yes and threw out a spiritually sound answer. Then the next day it happened. A huge disappointment whacked me upside the head and sent my heart sinking. I’d been asked to be part of a really big event—one of the biggest of my life—and then things fell apart.

  Invited, thrilled, excited, honored, and included, turned into . . . uninvited, bummed, saddened, disillusioned, and left out. And while I still had solid spiritual perspectives to hold on to, my flesh just needed a minute to say, “Stink!”

  Because sometimes things do stink. And disappointments come up that make us doubt God really does work for our good.

  Right when I wanted to say “stink” a few more times, I spotted a bowl that’d been sitting on my dining room table for a while. My daughter Brooke found some caterpillars weeks before, put them in a bowl, and had been holding them hostage ever since. I mean, she’d been lovingly admiring them underneath a layer of cellophane.

  I’d rather rejoice in what is and what will be, than wallow in what isn’t.

  Wouldn’t you know that those caterpillars formed cocoons inside that unlikely environment. And then, as I was muttering, “Stink!” I glanced across the table to that bowl and sucked the word back down my throat.

  The cocoons were empty.

  Expecting glorious butterflies, I was confused when I got right over the bowl and closely examined the product of my little girl’s hopes for new life.

  Moths.

  I just had to chuckle. Yet another thing in my day that wasn’t quite right.

  Or was it?

  When Brooke spotted the moths, she was beyond thrilled. Grabbing my hand, she led me outside, ripped off the plastic barrier, and watched the beauty of tiny wings b
eating . . . beating . . . beating . . . and finally fluttering into flight.

  Hmmmm.

  As I watched Brooke’s sheer delight, I realized she couldn’t have cared less if they were moths or butterflies. Creatures that once only knew the dirt of the earth had just been given the gift of flight. Reaching, soaring up, up, and away.

  And with that realization, this simple creature pulled up the corners of her mouth into a smile.

  Her reaction challenged me to look at my situation with fresh eyes, much like our key verse does:

  Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior. (Habakkuk 3:17–19)

  In the midst of all that’s disappointing or heartbreaking in our lives, we can fix our eyes on all that seems to be going wrong or we can choose to purposefully praise God with a heart of trust. A heart that remembers He is loving, He is good, and He sees much more purpose in our situation than we do.

  I decided to take one step away from disappointment and take one step toward the good God was working through the loss of the speaking event. I don’t know why that amazing opportunity was offered to me, only to be taken away. But I do know this: I’d rather rejoice in what is and what will be, than wallow in what isn’t. After all, disappointment only stings as long as I let it.

  Dear Lord, thank You for Your mercies and patience in this journey of imperfect progress. Forgive me for allowing disappointment to capture my heart so easily. Adjust my perspective and help me to see the things You have brought to life in me. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

  59

  WHY WOULD GOD LET THIS HAPPEN?

  “Though the mountains be shaken

  and the hills be removed,

  yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken

  nor my covenant of peace be removed,”