tablets of human hearts

Oh, what joy for those whose disobedience is forgiven, whose sin is put out of sight!
(Psalm 32:1, NLT)

The dry sand blasts my face again as another icy gust of wind whips around me in a frenzy.  I clamp my eyes shut, trying to keep them from filling up with grit.  Despite my feeble attempts to cover them with a cloth, sand works its way into both my mouth and nose.

I stumble along, shoulders hunched against the onslaught.  Eventually the gust will die down, I just have to press through it.  I clench my teeth and keep moving.  I peek an eye open to a slit, shielding it from the wind and sand with one hand.  Still no signs of any shelter.  Such a miserable place.  Empty.  Forsaken.   I squeeze my eye shut again and carefully shuffle my feet as I go.  Small stones jostle and tumble around them.  My right foot catches a bigger rock.  I stop, move around it and shuffle forward again.

The winds die down as quickly as they rose.  As soon as the sand settles, I remove the cloth and take a deep breath.  I shake it to knock out the dust and sand and shove it in my pocket.  I look around.  I am not on any road.   I am not anywhere.  Desolation spreads out all around me.  Brown.  Dry.  Cold.  I could go in any direction.  Or I could just not go anywhere.  Does it matter?  But I can’t stand still.  I start walking.  I have to press on to somewhere.  But where?  When will it end?

When you choose to turn back.

I stop.  What?  I spin around.  I don’t see anyone.  I listen.  But I hear nothing else.

I decide I am hearing things and start walking again.  How long have I been walking?  Time seems to make no sense.  Nothing to mark it.  Nothing to change it.  Again I ask, when will it end?

When you choose to confess.

I stop again.  Confess?  My heart clenches. But no. I cannot.  It’s too big.  Too hard.  Too impossible.

Nothing is impossible with me.

I tilt my head for a moment and consider the notion.  I shake my head.  No, it is impossible.  Not this thing.  Not this time.

I look around.  Maybe I’m going in the wrong direction.  I angle my steps to the right and pick up my pace.  I can move quickly until the next blast…

The wind whipped up quicker than before, blasting sand everywhere.  I yank the cloth out of my pocket and slap it over my nose and mouth.  I clamp my eyes shut again, hunch my shoulders and press forward.  Definitely stronger than the ones before.  I barely make any progress, not that I could tell anyway.  When the wind dies down, everything still looks the same.  Nothingness stretches out forever in all directions.

Turn to me now, while there is time.

Turn?  Turn where?  I turn in a slow circle.  Nothing changes.

Turn your heart.

I clench my eyes shut, as if they are being pummeled by sand again.  Could I really?  Could I turn my heart back?  But I know better.  Surely this time it’s different.  He had to be furious.  Fed up.  Tired of dealing with me.  I look around at my bleak and dismal surroundings.  I deserve to be here.  I start walking again, slowly, knowing another blast will come again, whatever my pace.

I love you.

My heart skips a beat.  Really?  I want desperately to believe it.  But how could He?  Surely love must have its limits.  I keep walking.

I love you.

It can’t really be that simple.  Can it?

Yes.

But my heart is…

I can give you a new heart.

And I made such a mess of things.  I’ve lost so…

I can restore what has been lost

I have more arguments.  But they seem empty.  Still, I can’t bring myself to accept the possibility.  I shake my head again and quicken my pace.

A terrible roar fills the cold air.  It sounds… hungry.  I frantically look about.  Where did it come from?  I must be crazy to think I can stay here.  I pause.

I expect a another reply to my thoughts.  But receive only silence.

Can I really turn back?  Confess?  Can I turn my heart?

Silence.

I sigh.  Ok.  Yes.  I can’t stay here.  I want to come back.  I close my eyes and whisper the thing.  I tell it all.  I claim it and release it.  I don’t want it anymore.  Tears stream down my face, carrying away the dirt covering my cheeks.

A warm breeze, like a caress, touches my skin.

I open my eyes.  Joy hits me like a cleansing wave.  The desert is gone.  In its place…

I am merciful and compassionate.  I love you with an unfailing love.

I look around.  Words cannot describe.  I smile.

Prayer
Father, You are merciful and compassionate.  What joy there is for me because my disobedience is forgiven, and my sin has been removed. As far as the east is from the west so far do You remove my sins from me.  Thank You for Your great love.

Grace & Peace

I will exalt you, lord, for you rescued me.
You refused to let my enemies triumph over me.
(Psalm 30:1, NLT)

The enemy’s greatest tool in my life is my own self talk.  That point where I take my eyes off the Lord and start letting my thoughts run down dangerous paths filled with potholes, this is where the enemy lies in wait.  While I know he is limited and cannot read my heart and mind like the Lord can, he is shrewd and able to discern what he might be able to use against me just by the things I do or say.

We all have memories of words spoken over us through out our life.  These memories often serve as recordings that sometimes play over and over in our minds.

If the words spoken over us were life giving and encouraging, then we may respond to situations in our life with confidence.

But any negative words spoken into our lives, if left unchecked, will crush our spirits, create doubt, and even produce fear.

We can’t fight this battle on our strength.  But, if we cry out to Him, the Lord will rescue us from this enemy.  We must use the mighty weapons He provides, not worldly weapons, but godly weapons to knock down the strongholds of human thoughts and to destroy false arguments (2 Corinthians 10:4).  We must replace the lies of  harsh and foolish words in our minds with godly, wise words.  The Lord will transform us into a new person by changing the way we think (Romans 12:2).

We can also ask the Lord to send us people who will speak loving truth into our lives, for the words of the godly are a life-giving fountain (Proverbs 10:11) and the words of the wise bring healing (Proverbs 12:18).

Every time the ugly recordings begin playing in our minds, we have a choice: to listen and believe or to refute the lies and allow the Lord to replace them with His truth.

What words have labelled you?  Stupid?  Failure?  Unworthy?  Not enough?  Too much?  Unlovable?

Counter those labels with what the Lord says:

You are God’s workmanship, created in Christ to do the good things He has planned for you to do (Ephesians 2:10).

You area new creation in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17).

And remember, God has not given you a spirit of fear; but of power, love, and a sound mind.  (2 Timothy 1:7).

Prayer  

Father, your word says truthful words stand the test of time, but lies are soon exposed (Proverbs 12:19).  Expose the lies I have believed and fill me with Your truth.  And may the overflow of my heart speak encouragement and life-giving words into the lives of others.

Grace & Peace

Honor the Lord, you heavenly beings; honor the Lord for his glory and strength.
(Psalm 29:1, NLT)

Many of the Psalms speak to the broad spectrum of creation, prompting everything to give honor to the Lord. Mountains. Oceans. Sea creatures. Trees. Even heavenly beings.

Mighty ones.
Sons of God.
Angels in heaven.
Heavenly hosts.
Angel armies.

They too, honor the Lord.

I followed him from a distance.  I didn’t want him to see me.  He headed out into the wilderness again.  And his closest friends warned everyone he did not want to be disturbed.

“He’s praying,” they said.  “Let him be.”

But I wanted to see.  Did he really spend all night in prayer, while the rest of us slept?

I won’t bother him, I told myself.  I just want to see how he prays.

He ducked under a low hanging branch as he worked his way through a copse of trees.  I waited until he disappeared around some tall boulders dotting the hillside before I followed.

What did he pray about when he was alone?  How did he pray?  I wanted to learn.

I peeked around the boulders.  He climbed on up the hillside.

His friends had asked him how to pray.  They taught others what he taught them.  But it seemed too simple.  Surely there was more to it.

He stopped under a great elm and sat down.  There was nothing but open space between where I stood behind the boulder and the tree.  I couldn’t get any closer without being seen.  I glanced at the western horizon.  The sun was not far from setting.  It would be hard to see when darkness came, if not for the full moon rising in the east.   One of the reasons I picked this night to follow.

He sat for a long while in the rosy glow of the sunset.  I couldn’t tell if he was praying or not.  Then he got up and paced.  I watched him walk back and forth in front of the tree.  He had his head down and his hands behind his back, as if he were deep in thought.  He sat back down.  He placed his head in his hands.  I wondered what he was thinking.  The grey light of dusk faded to dark.  But the moon rose full and bright in the east, creating silver light and irregular night shadows.

He got up and paced again.  This time, he gestured with his hands, as if talking to someone.   It looked like a heated argument.  But with whom was he arguing?  Eventually he threw his hands up in the air.  He stood there for a long while like that, head back, arms up.   Surely he was praying now.   I had seen holy men praying in the temple like that.  I wished I could hear what he said.  He dropped his arms and leaned back against the tree trunk.   The moon climbed higher in the night sky and the odd shadows shortened on the earth.  My eyelids grew heavy.   I quietly lowered myself to a sitting positing and leaned against the boulder.  I rubbed my eyes and checked to see what he was doing.  He hadn’t moved.

I must have dozed off.  The moon was well past its zenith and the moon shadows were growing longer again.  Only in the other direction.  I peeked around the boulder.  Had something woke me up?  He was still there, next to the tree.  But now he stood, staring off into the darkness, as if waiting for someone.

A breeze picked up.  He was downwind.  I hoped he wouldn’t here me rustling around as I stood up.  Suddenly, I saw who he waited for.  Three figures approached in the moonlight.  They seemed enormous.  Shining white in the night.  Their light seemed to come with them, illuminating the world all around, driving back the shadows.  Would they see me?  I shrunk back behind the rock, but couldn’t help but watch.   Who were they?  I couldn’t make out much detail from my distant vantage point but I could see they wore flowing robes and walked with a regal step.   As they drew closer to him, they didn’t seem quite as big as I originally thought.  They were about the same height as him.  I thought he would bow before them.  Instead, they dropped to their knees before him.   He touched their heads, one by one.  When they rose, he threw back his head in a laugh, but I could not hear it because the breeze had picked up to a brisk wind.  I stared, surprised as he threw his arms around first one, then the other two in a warm embrace, like friends long separated.

The wind rose to gale force.  I pressed myself against the rock, no longer concerned about being seen or heard and trying to keep from being pushed out of my hiding place.

They were talking, undisturbed by the wind that threatened to blow me about.  Why, their robes and his clothes weren’t even fluttering.  And I couldn’t even hear what they spoke about because of the sound of the rushing wind.   As they talked, the world seemed to grow brighter and brighter.  Brighter than at noonday on the brightest day.   I felt as if I were looking at the world for the first time.  The real world.  Alive.  Bright.  Quivering and humming with life.  I wanted to look around and examine everything in this new light.  But  my eyes were fixed on them and their conversation.  I watched, fascinated.  And frustrated that I could not hear.  What exciting things they must be talking about.  All four of them were animated in what they said.  Hands moving.  Heads nodding.  A few times he threw his head back and laughed again.  I would never forget how it looked.  Unabashed.  Free.  Filled with joy.  A beautiful sight.

The conversation took a serious turn.  Hands dropped to their sides, or were clasped in front of them.  Their voices must have lowered because they leaned in toward one another.  In the bright light, I could see his face clearly.  His eyebrows knitted together under eyes filled with concern.  His lips pressed together in a thin line.  He nodded at whatever they were saying.  Something else was said and he shook his head.  He shook it again.  Then sighed.  A heavy, deep breathed sigh.  If the wind wasn’t howling so, I felt as if I would have heard it.   His shoulders drooped a little.  What had they told him?  I didn’t like this part of the conversation, even if I couldn’t hear it.  I pressed my hands against the cold rock, keeping myself from running out and telling them to stop saying whatever it was they were saying.

I wanted to see him laugh again.

Instead he nodded.  Then he extended his arms, gripping the forearms of one of them, then another.  The third, when they clasped arms, leaned in.  He leaned in also, listening.  Their heads pressed together for a moment.  He straightened, and nodded.

And they were gone.  I didn’t see them leave.  One moment they were there and then they weren’t.  The wind as well.  One moment it blew like a gale, the next moment it was dead calm.  He stood there for a while, as the light they left behind, faded like the close of day, leaving moon beams and darkness behind.  A thin glow in the east promised the light of a new day.

He turned and looked my way.  My heart thudded against my chest as I ducked behind the boulder.  Had he seen me?  Did he know I was there?  I heard footsteps crunching on dry leaves.  He was coming my way.  I scurried down the hillside toward the copse of trees, hoping I could get back before he caught me.

Prayer  Heavenly Father, I know Jesus has been elevated to the place of highest honor and given the name above all other names.  Even the heavenly hosts bow down to him.  May I, also, always give him the honor and glory due him.

Grace & Peace

I pray to you, O Lord, my rock.
Do not turn a deaf ear to me.
For if you are silent, I might as well give up and die.
(Psalm 28:1, NLT)

Really?
That’s quite the audacious prayer.

Who is this?
Who can talk to God like that?

David prayed it?
How did he earn the right to make demands of God?
To threaten Him?

He was what, a shepherd boy?
Youngest in the family.
Not much going for him.

Oh, sure, God chose him.
Is that it?
Because he was chosen to be king, he could be so bold?

So he became king.
Is that why he felt he had some special status?

But didn’t he try to do things his own way?
Didn’t he try to take the throne before God was ready for him to have it?

Oh. And wasn’t he the one who had eyes for a married woman?
Even arranged for the death of her husband to cover his affair?

I hear there were also other family problems.
That David’s kids had some issues.
His own son even tried to kill him and take his throne.

And here he is telling God He better listen.
Or what?
He’d give up and die?
What is God supposed to do with that?

So what makes David think, with his humble beginnings, his mistakes along the way, his whoppers of sin, that he can step right up to God and say, “Listen to me”?

There must be something.

Could it be, David understood a deeper truth?
That he was on to something?

Might it be something we can understand too?
About God.
That God loved David.
And David loved God.

And God loves us.  With a great love.  So much so, He calls us His children (1 John 3:1).
And we can love Him.

And like David, we have been chosen in Christ (Ephesians 1:4 and 1 Peter 2:9).

And yes, like David, we have made mistakes and sinned in some ugly ways, but we are also forgiven (1 John 1:9 and 2:12).

So, can we like David, be bold before God?

Definitely.

In Ephesians “because of Christ and our faith in him, we can now come boldly and confidently into God’s presence.”  (Ephesians 3:12, NLT)

and again in Corinthians, “such confidence we have through Christ before God.”
(2 Corinthians 3:4, NIV)

and in Hebrews, we are told to “come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.”
(Hebrews 4:16, NLT)

It is Christ who gains us access to the Father (Ephesians 2:18), to His grace (Romans 5:2) and into the very throne room of God (Hebrews 10:19).  In Him, we have this confidence.

When we need grace, when we have requests and burdens, when we’ve made a mess of things, even when we’ve fallen into sin, again, we can confidently go to our Father who loves us.

Jesus gave us a bold model to follow:
Prayer
Daddy in Heaven, Your name stands above all others. Set everything right. Do what’s best here, like you do up there. Give me what I need to live today. Forgive me. Because I forgive them. And keep me safe from the enemy’s plots. (Matthew 6:9-13, my rendering)

Grace & Peace