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Sunday, January 11, 2015

The Truest Truth

We've sung this song a few times at church, and I find I sing it from the depths of my heart, understanding God's love like never before.  Well, understanding is probably a bit bold.  I find that I have encountered his love in a way that I never had before.

Through the darkness
Through the fire
Through my wicked heart’s desire
Your love remains, Your love remains
Though I stumble
Though I falter
Through my weakness You are strong
Your love remains, Your love remains

Oh my, my soul, it cries
Oh my, my soul, it cries out
Soul, it cries out
Soul, it cries, it cries out

Through my failure
Through my heartache
Through my healing
In my pain Your love remains, Your love remains
Though I stumble
Though I falter
Through my weakness You are strong
Your love remains, Your love remains

The past year I faced darkness and struggle that I did not expect. I found myself shaken to my core. As I cried out, I heard nothing.

Except "I love you."

Again and again. And again.

So basic. Yet so profound. No matter what, his love remains.

I want my heart to rejoice that I am loved by the creator of the universe. I want my confidence in his goodness to be firmly rooted in that love, not swayed by circumstances (good or bad). I imagine my life would be different, rather my experience of my life would be different, were I to truly live out of my deeply loved identity.

But the truth is, I don't. I am ravaged by anxiety. I am sometimes depressed. I can't always convince myself to hope. I feel broken. Which is why I am so incredibly grateful to be reminded that his love remains. Always extended to me, always calling me to the truth that is truer than my feelings, my emotions, my circumstances--the love of God, generously, extravagantly, lavished on me.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Light in a New Light

It's been almost two years since I've written a blog post.  Recently, I have thought that writing is very therapeutic for me and so here I am, writing a post about light.

"Lights, come out! Shine in the vast expanse of heavens' sky dividing day from night to mark the seasons, days, and years.  Lights, warm the earth with your light."

I have always loved light.  I love candles and their flickering glow.  Sunsets and sunrises with their varied shades and nuances of light.  Light frolicking on a lake or a flowing river or an ocean's waves.  Light at the end of a lava tube when you've been hiking without a flashlight.

I even have my favorite time of light--right before dusk.  The light seems to create a space where colors are more vivid, lines and shadows are more perfect and I can't help but gasp at how beautiful it is.

I have pondered the concept of God being light.  Of his perfection chasing away darkness and sin in the world and in my heart.  Since I love light, this is a beautiful analogy.

Reading the above passage from Genesis 1 in The Voice, I was struck by lights being instructed to mark the seasons, days and years.  There's something wonderful about having the constant and regular presence of light to carry you through a day, a year, a season.

I go through my days happy that there is light and relatively unsurprised when it's there again the following day.  I have gone through seasons of joy and seasons of sadness, practically unaware of the constancy of the light around me.  It is always there.  It marks the passage of time.  It heralds the promise that there will be another day, another year, another season.

When I think about God as light in this new sense of what light was created to be, I am humbled.  Just as the physical light around me informs me that time is passing and new days, years and seasons will continue to appear, so it can remind me that God is present in each of my days, years and seasons and he will carry me into the next.  He is constant.  He knows what I have been through, what I am going through, and where I am going, even when I am unaware of His presence.

Lights, come out!  Be my reminder that God is marking my life and knows exactly where I've been and where I'm headed.