I take comfort in the sympathetic expressions of weakness and dependency reflected here:

Pilot Me by Josh Garrels

I will arise and follow you over
Savior, please pilot me

Over the waves and through every sorrow
Savior, please pilot me

When I have no more strength left to follow
Fall on my knees, pilot me

May your sun rise and lead me on
Over the seas, Savior, pilot me

Oh Lord

Psalm 42:7
Deep calls to deep at the roar of your waterfalls; all your breakers and your waves have gone over me.

trudgery & explosions

Inside me lies two responses to the lifeless state I feel myself slipping into today at work. Apathy and mindless, robotic endurance is one option. I will trudge through this day in survival mode, willing time to continue to tick by, after all, I know that it will. That's what time does.

Secondly, I want to explode, escape, break free, break out against the numbness. Change is on the horizon, July 5th- oh hasten the day! The day where I move on from this work that I no longer believe in. It's terrible when your job gives you an "in" into the lives of suffering, hurting people, but then makes you reach out to them not as yourself, but as a representative of an organization that you don't believe can actually help them. And I've done this for two years! A more honest, sincere person would have left the first week... I guess I expected I would be able to help them eventually. As I leave this job and go to one that seems a blessing in so many ways, I wonder what have I done here? Have I bettered this place, these people as a result of spending 40+ hours a week here?

I cannot bear the answer which I suspect. It haunts me.

I am also haunted by my quick turn-around. I was "up" on Monday. It is Friday and already I feel so down it's almost comical my lack of ability to find some sort of stasis.

Stasis: when two opposing forces equal each other in intensity, thereby cancelling each other out.

So, it's not that there aren't going to be forces bringing me down, squelching joy and hope, robbing me of peace. It's that I have to fight back with an equal intensity. "Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong." -1 Corinthians 16:13. But I am not a man. And I don't have strength in and of myself right now. (Or ever) "Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power." -Ephesians 6:10. What does it mean to be strong in the Lord? I feel so unbelievably weak, as if I could just keel over and die. Right here, on the spot. I am no superstar Christian. "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.'"- 2 Corinthians 12:9.

I'm not sure I understand why He picks the weakest vessels to be put in places where light is most needed. There are others who would do better. Who would shine brighter. Could it be that the dimness of my own light causes Christ to shine all the more brightly? "For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong." - 2 Corinthians 12:10.

up & down

"Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will exalt you." -James 4:9b-10

I find myself too often being tossed by the waves of circumstance. Forgetting that I have a sure foundation in God's Word and an anchor, hope, that holds in every storm, I abandon ship and allow myself to be lashed back and forth by the stuff in which I'm swimming: relational hurts, job stresses, the harsh environs of my neighborhood, the realization of my own sinfulness, uncertainty about the future, etc. And the worst part is- if I stay out there long enough, treading and trying to keep my head above water, I begin to despair. I wonder if God has forgotten about me, or worse: conclude that He has not forgotten (He is GOD after all), but that He must enjoy watching me suffer. If He has the power to stop my pain, and He doesn't, what else can I possibly conclude?

Am I surprised at my suffering? The Bible has given me enough warning to know that this is to be expected... Yes, the Christian life can be hard. God's people must walk through trials and if the Master was treated unfairly and subjected Himself willingly to ridicule and pain and eventually death, then the servant cannot expect anything different, right? Maybe the problem is when this is ALL I expect. I forget about the Joy of being His. The Joy of knowing that my future is secure, that the best is yet to come. It's not that I haven't experienced joy. Oh no, I have had my moments where I have felt joy overflowing from my heart. I remember two summers ago when the Holy Spirit highlighted the Gospel for me in such a way that I wept for the joy of what He had done for me...

My friend Tina says I feel things very deeply. And I suppose that can be a good thing, but it can also be a terrible thing.

In one of my favorite movies, Anne of Green Gables, there is a scene where Anne and Marilla are talking and Anne says that she is "in the depths of despair". I don't think Marilla's response was altogether helpful to Anne in that moment, but it helps put things in perspective for me. "To despair is to turn your back on God". I'll switch the wording a bit because in actuality I have often turned my back on God and not despaired of it: to despair is to believe that God has turned His back on you. If you are His, if you belong to Him, if you have been adopted into His family, He cannot turn His back on you. To do so would be to deny Himself.

So what do I do when I am down? Funny enough, it's when I'm down that God's promises become all the more precious to me. I read from Isaiah 40 this morning: "Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed..." (vs. 4-5) Not only is this a beautiful promise to me that valleys aren't valleys forever, but it also gives me an answer. What should I seek when I am down?

Easy. It's the same thing I should seek when all is going well with me. God's glory. I should seek to proclaim (even if only to myself) His greatness, His goodness, His mercy, His grace, His holiness, His kindness, His wisdom, His trustworthiness, His tenderness, His justice, His righteousness, etc. This is what keeps inconsistent human beings on a consistent track. In this life there will be ups and downs. And sometimes it will feel like it is mostly downs. But regardless, we look to the Lord- who is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). He is the only constant when the rollercoaster of life unexpectedly takes a plunge.

I am starting to see that times in the valley are precious. The Puritans called it the "Valley of Vision". I'll end with two very different, but true excerpts. The first is part of a prayer from the Valley of Vision, a collection of Puritan prayers. The second is lyrics from a song "Up, Down" by the Ambassador. Enjoy. Both have blessed me the last several days.

"Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up, that to be low is to be high, that the broken heart is the healed heart, that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit, that the repenting soul is the victorious soul, that to have nothing is to possess all..."

"If it goes up, then it goes down, you can go up, you can go down. Everything is for a season; Seasons go round. Keep looking up to Jesus when it comes down."

Lord, let us never despair when we are led by your tender hand into the valley or out into the wilderness. You discipline those you love. And it is in the deep, dark valley that your glory shines brightest- just as stars look brighter out in the country away from the city lights which compete with their brightness. It is in the wilderness that you speak tenderly to us and strip away from us our idols, our lesser loves. Lord, I want to see you shine in my life. Thank you that through the ups and downs you are the never-changing God. Thank you that you are jealous for our heart's devotion. You know that only You can satisfy hearts made for you.