He Hems Me In, Before and Behind--February 7th, 2015

A few weeks ago, in the midst of transitioning to my new job position, new “future” out of school, and renewed faith, I prayed. Boldly. A way I hadn’t since my feet were caked in the red Kenyan dirt.

God, Please show me how you’re working. Help me to have tangible heart-knowledge that you are in my circumstances—working and leading. I need to see you. Show me how your hand is at work—like in Ruth’s life—orchestrating my circumstances for my good and your glory.

                Admittedly, I was pessimistic, jaded, not really expecting an answer—but with a “mustard seed” of faith, hoping that this time, this prayer, would be different. This time he would move my calloused heart and stubborn mind and show me.
                Well, where do I begin? In the last week alone, I have seen answers to things I didn’t even have faith to pray about, months ago. Flippant thoughts of “oh, wouldn’t that be great if___” have actually come about—been brought up as possibilities in conversation as actually happening! The most encouraging was a prayer from December having a tangible, real, answer—yes, this week. My soul has leapt to life with hope and joy—God is present. He does orchestrate. The most encouraging thing is that I’m excited that God’s working—not as much about the specific circumstances and “yeses” but more that I have seen him answer. This is much different than I used to be. A new acquaintance eloquently wrote that “God blesses you seasonally, proportionately, and incrementallybecause he wants to bestow you both with the gift itself, and the gift offaith, and never the former without the latter”.

                Exactly. Awhile ago I prayed one of those prayers you never should pray—like asking for patience, that I would know what it was like to not know the hope of Jesus. Yes, I actually prayed that. And well, look at the last two years. He answered—yes, and the season was a gift. It increased my faith, my hope, my joy. He really does give good gifts—and hems them in, before and behind. 

Trusting When God Says “No”

                The last two years have been a battle of 2x4s whacking my faith, my confidence, my joy. It seemed like the blows would never stop: experiencing poverty and my powerlessness, guilt of privilege, the deaths of : patriarchs, friends, cousins, precious children. When would it stop? Every prayer answered with a resounding no.  FINE, my soul screamed. HAVE IT YOUR WAY—take away my family, friends, my hearing, my ignorance of the disparity of life—I give up. My heart hardened as it interpreted every “no” as if God was the defiant one—not me. I threw myself into a crazy school year—attending church but mentally retreating every Sunday. I couldn’t take it. Why should I follow a “loving” God who seems to stomp and stifle my dreams and the people around me? While I have to pick up the pieces of shattered dreams and fractured hopes—now what.

                No one likes no.

we don’t like to have the bubble of control, power, comfort, and peace popped by reality. From two to ninety –two no one likes no. The irony, is that without boundaries there is chaos. Boundaries lead to more freedom, not less. What I was unable to see the last two years was that each 2x4 I thought was destroying my faith was actually thrown to build. I can now see that the pain was purposeful, foundational even, to where I am now. I have been equipped even when I was defiantly enduring—the house was being built on the rock.

 

                You see, all those “no’s” were actually invitations—to trust God’s timing, his plans and purposes, his way of healing. The no’s were inviting me to run TO God, not away. Even now, oh precious hindsight and the Holy Spirit remind me that I was warned about this journey. My second night in Nairobi, I journaled that,

 

“it will be a desert, I will wander, ‘it will be a beautiful season of growth and dependence; my individual “Fourty Years” to personally and eternally remind me of God’s  love, provision, and Grace”

 

At the time, my naïve self thought—well, duh, two months in Africa…But I failed to realize the desert was actually when I returned home, and would last much longer. It was the desert of my heart—dry with pride, fear, a desire to control.

 

All the “no’s” were leading me to say yes.

In brokenness I was able to finally say yes—that God is sovereign, trustworthy, in control, and good! Even the most painful no’s—rejection, physical loss, death, loneliness; are yeses. Yes, you can trust me when you are alone, physically disabled, in need. I AM. I am with you in the fire and the flood (Isaiah 40). God has sustained and guided me through the desert, I can trust him in the journey—even when he says no.