A Fork in the Hand of an Almighty God

I am struck sometimes by God’s work when I lay down the claim I have staked on it, and it is in these times that I like to think of myself as a fork in the hand of an almighty God.

There are some moments, some days, when I believe the word of God to be true. Now if you were to ask me at any given point in time if I thought it to be true I might not even let you finish your question before responding with an unthinking “Yes.” But if you examined my life and my heart, would the answer come so quickly? So when I say that I believed the word of God to be true in those moments, in those days, I mean to say that in them, I let God be God.

In those moments and in those days, I remember I am the fork. I am the utensil. I exist for His purposes. I breathe and I speak and I move for HIS glory. Ultimately, it is HIS will to be done. Yes, I am a servant. My stepbrother has often condemned me as a slave. And I cannot help but smile. He flatters me for he sees me positioned higher than I would ever assert myself. I don’t count myself worthy of that title. 

When I rest confidently in this identity, I find freedom. I need no agenda for I am sent on my father’s business. Be it broccoli, brussel sprouts or the like, I can be content to serve my God. And if he sets before me apple pie, I can delight in it just the same. As an instrument for His kingdom, my satisfaction is found being held in the hand of my God.

Knowing this, I am confident that I cannot go anywhere alone. As a fork cannot stab a pile of pancakes without the force of a hand and an arm and a purposeful diner, neither can I move without he propulsion of my God.

If He were to finish with me, I would simply lose my purpose, my worth, and my function. I would become decorative, a collector’s item perhaps.  One in whom people take pride in for mere appearance. I praise my God for He alone is faithful. Even when I am faithless, he remains faithful for he cannot deny himself. What is more, no one can snatch me from the hand that holds me. I belong to my God. I have eternal purpose, eternal relationship with the God of the universe.

And I find that each time I begin to tremble in fear or in worry I am stilled instantly by a squeeze of the eternal hand that engulfs me and we go back to work together.

Unsatisfied.

Mark 8:34

34 Summoning the crowd along with His disciples, He said to them, “If anyone wants to be My follower, he must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Me.

I often sit before the Lord and beg to know and be known more fully. I have a hunger to be in an infinitely intimate relationship with the Lord. I plead with my God to draw me near, to hold and to guide me. He answers every prayer, and to this, he responds with Mark 8:34. He asks 3 things of me.

First, He asks me to deny myself. I have very little practice, and very little success when it comes to this area. Diets often fail after I encounter my first cookie. What my stomach wants, my stomach gets. This indulgence of my flesh has come at the cost of an intimacy with my God.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer puts it this way: “When the flesh is satisfied it is hard to pray with cheerfulness or to devote oneself to a life of service which calls for much self-renunciation.” It is similar to every mother’s plea that her children would not fill up on a bread plate before dinner; it ruins their appetite. In the same way, when I allow for a life-style of self-indulgence, I do not aptly recognize my incredible NEED for God. In failing to recognize a need, I increase the distance between God and myself.

His second command: “take up your cross.” On the cross, Jesus demonstrated the ultimate obedience, submitting wholly to the will of the Father. Taking up one’s cross is taking up the call of Christ to come and die. In the death of self I become alive in Christ, I begin to live real life (Col 3:3), and this life begins to look more and more like Jesus’. So, in those moments of longing for Christ, often times it comes down to a place of disobedience. Bonhoeffer again comments: “There is no fulfillment of the law apart from communion with God, and no communion with God apart from fulfillment of the law. To forget the first condition was the mistake of the Jews, and to forget the second was the temptation of the disciples.” I continue to sin against a holy God, abusing his perfect law. And, Christ alone has fulfilled the law. If I desire to leave behind the unrighteousness that drives me further from God, I must find my identity in the one who alone is “good.”

This naturally brings me to Jesus’ final command: “follow me.” In order to follow, the first two commands must be obeyed first, only then am I free to walk after Jesus. When following behind someone in a car, if I decide that I know a faster way and act on it, what right do I have to complain that we have become separated? The leader sets the course, it is upon me to follow it.

Being a Christian means loving God more than I love myself. I know that an eternity with God is a treasure worth everything I have and everything I am. But sometimes I forget. I thank Jesus every time I am reminded of his incredible forgiveness and willingness 

I Would Have Preferred the Belt

There have been only a few instances in my life where I have so clearly recognized the Lord as my Father. One of the most recent occurred when I encountered his unfathomable love for me. What made me recognize his role as Father was the discipline rod held in his hands.

I can so easily breeze through the book of Proverbs as I am told that a father who withholds the strap has no love for his child. Yet it was in the moment of holding 4 university rejection letters that I felt the sting of the belt.

My first reaction was sadness and this turned to resentment mighty fast. I had given the Lord 4 very solid options for the next 4 years of my life (all Ivy League schools), how could he do this to me? In the hour following the clean sweep of rejection, I allowed myself to speak without my typical filters. I walked the length of the park near my house and listened to the words that came spilling out of my lips. “I deserved this.” “I am better than them.” I could not stop the words from coming, and I knew that these were the honest representation of my filthy, sinful heart.

The realization of my idolatry was painful. I would have much preferred a belt. School and the immense pride that I had always derived from it had become integral to my identity. I worshipped myself, my achievements, my gifts, and college was to be the summation of all of my hard work. Those Ivy League acceptances were to be my trophies. After all, it was all about me.

This life is but a breath, and to live it in pursuit of my own glory would be to waste it. Praise God in his graciousness to discipline me, his daughter, and to remind me that this life, my college years, my ministry, none of it is about me. I am a pen, and I had been taking credit for the glorious words filling the page.

By his mercy, I am forgiven of worshipping another God, and by his grace I can surrender myself at his cross. I long to be used for his kingdom, to glorify his name. I know that I am weak, that my heart is black, but I know too that I am called out of sin into a reconciled relationship with the God of the Universe. I am sitting amongst 500 men with but a loaf of bread, but offered to the Lord, he will glorify himself.

Ponies and All.

I like to think of myself as a world renown ring leader of the most challenging and intricate circus ever to be assembled. With grace I manage to keep things in their place, to keep the bowling pins and the trapeze artist from falling. Everything appears to be a balancing act.

I can often be mistaken as maintaing this life style with ease and fairly little drama. This statement may appear prideful if you did not know that it has come at a price. I have been text book oriented from day 1. I learn quickly because I do things as they have been proven to succeed. This method has served me well in life, that is until I met Jesus.

I battle to this day to get up off my knees before the alter of Madeline. I sneak into Jesus' throne room in the middle of the night, place the crown on my head, hold his scepter, and command over the dark room, playing God. When I surrendered my life to Christ, he demanded that I give up my circus too. Ponies and all.

When it comes to making decisions I struggle to trust. When I struggle to trust, I go back to my books. I can always tell when I am worshipping myself when I find myself no longer satisfied, when I find myself worrying. Jesus promises to give me real life now and eternal life after I die. But the catch is trusting in him.

Jesus was a bit of a maverick. He was not your conventional religious teacher. The things he taught, often the way he taught them, and the people who he chose to teach all defied orthodoxy. That is exactly what I signed up for. So if Jesus says to me, "toss another bowling pin in, you can handle another!" I will trust him and toss it in. If he tells me, "let the trapeze artist fall," so be it. (I never did like that trapeze artist anyways).