"Abide in Me"

To journey through one's memories can be a dangerous action. The possibility of stumbling over raw memory and emotion is very real. The possibility for reviving bitterness is only out shadowed by the possibility of discovering that bitterness never died. The discovery of brokenness is a reality that many choose to avoid altogether. Regardless of the potential for pain, I believe that this journey is necessary for each of us. Beyond the potential for pain is the guarantee of healing.

This healing may come to us through understanding painful situations in a deeper way that only maturity and the wisdom of life can provide. It may come by seeing the pain from which our scars were generated--

Healing may be delivered by the simple revelation of a season's end. Regardless of how it is delivered, we must understand and cling to this truth: Healing and the ability to live without torment was made possible by the love that our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ hold for each of us.

Our Comforter, who is the Holy Spirit of God, is longing for our hands to reach for his. He is longing to journey through our lives and prove his presence in the darkness to us. Even though he is all seeing and all knowing, he longs for our guidance on this journey. When we choose to take him and show him the story of our life, it becomes an offering...burnt on the offering of grief, the ashes of our story can only be traded for beauty when we are willing to tell it.

In John Chapter 15, we hear Christ instruct his disciples to abide in him...to live and dwell in Him. With everything in me, I believe that those words ripped through eternity. They pierce darkness past, present, and future.

When we take Christ by the hand, and offer him the story of our lives, he proves this.

When I walk with him through my 30 (almost 30) years...I am overwhelmed by his response to me. You see, I believe that we can only truly live in his acceptance if we allow the potential for his denial. I don't believe that He would deny us, but I believe we need to show him the points of our journey that we hate the most so that we can free ourselves from thinking that he carries shame for us--Vulnerability with the spirit is the key to ALL freedom.

When I show Jesus the many times I've heard how worthless I am--When I show him the moments when a young boy was told that he was hated, stupid, incapable of friendship, incapable of being truly accepted and loved, to my surprise, I see the heart of Christ break. I see him weep over the hurt and damage that those words caused...the impact that they would have.

His shoulders never shrug. He never expects me to simply get over it. Isn't that the way we treat each other entirely too often? But he shows me how he felt in those many moments. I can almost feel the heat in his cheeks as he holds me.

When I show him the moments in which I was compared to "all the other boys"--When I show him all the times I hated who I was because I was very much aware of my inadequacies, I'm greeted with his acceptance. His voice comes to me softly and gently. I believe that I can hear brokenness in his voice as he chokes back tears and says, "abide in me, Josh."

It's difficult to relive these moments. It's a painful, "nails on a chalkboard" experience to see yourself laying in the dark weeping into a pillow because "boys don't cry". But, there is unspeakable healing in seeing that Jesus was in that moment--comforting, restoring, and beckoning.

It's messy. So very messy...but without this fellowship and communion, how could healing truly come?

To grow in trust and show Jesus that you are comfortable enough to make these stops with him only solidifies his intimacy with us.

To stop along the lane of memories and show Jesus the moment that sexual abuse twists its way into our life is something that we don't want to do. We look at these moments in disgust and regret as if we could do anything to prevent what someone gives us as a child. But as I stand there in all of my shame and exposure and deliver these memories to him...convinced that He will no longer be interested in what the world would call "damaged"...I force myself to look into his eyes. The only thing evident in his gaze is how much he loves me...

My expectation of distance is met with the firmness of his embrace. Again, my ears are surprised by the passion in his voice...the desire in his words when he softly, and gently replies to my tears with, "Abide in me, Josh."

These moments aren't pretty--

God truly knows how very difficult they are to leave in the past...He knows that the difficulty of turning them into an offering is only magnified. Again, as soon as our ugliness is given--it has to be given--We cannot simply assume that it belongs to him because he "knew about it anyway"--it becomes an offering. The torment is ripped from the memory and the shining light of how Christ delivered us from our secrets ruin the existence of Shame's shadow.

What about our sin? The moments when we allow ourselves to do what we know is wrong. What about the moments when we deliberately turn from the fellowship of Jesus in pursuit of fleshly pleasures? As difficult as it is to relive abuse--to share it--we have the cushion of knowing that we couldn't prevent it. OUR shortcomings are a different matter--

Taking Jesus to the bed of my sin...showing him the moment of myself doing the thing that I said that I would NEVER do...it's nauseating. To show him the very lowest moments of my life...the crowning achievement of my filth and failure...I can't even acknowledge that he is there. My response to the emotion of this moment is to leave...if I leave voluntarily, I won't have to hear him banish me from his presence. But just as I turn to RUN, he grabs me, he pulls me into his embrace. I can see the hurt the moment caused him, but more visible is his continued desire for me. Above the sporadic rhythm of my heartbeat in my ears is a firm, fervent invitation, "Abide in me, Josh. Stay in me. This does not change my love for you." How can I live as anything other than whole?

Just when I expect to be turned away by Christ...when I know that I have reached the borders of his forgiveness, his chase intensifies. His craving for me becomes uncontrollable. He truly becomes "Redeemer".

Whether we choose to admit it or not, there are moments of disappointments that we must deal with. Disappointment is so difficult...They seem to come all to frequently and we are to accept them as a part of life...

We don't even allow ourselves the luxury of calling it a disappointment. We train ourselves to let them be and "move on".

The only problem I have with this thinking is how many of us actually move on? I believe that by dumbing all of our disappointments down we dumb our dreams and eventually our ability to hope down.

By training ourselves to expect disappointment, we cripple our hope. In turn, we cripple our faith--How can we expect God's movement and intervention in our lives if we are trained to expect bad things to happen?

How can we expect for God to use us for his purpose when we are looking for the next wave of bad news? It doesn't make sense...after showing Jesus our hurt and our sin we MUST show him the our disappointments...even if we think they are with him.

If we are honest, there have been times that our human understandings caused us to be disappointed in God's timing or his plan. We won't own up to this. Christians mask it with "churchy" language others mask it with bitterness and disbelief. What we seem to misunderstand is, if we choose to trust Jesus enough to talk this out with him, HE will give us clarity.

Wouldn't it be so much easier to have clarity from God than to hear another Sunday School phrase like, "When God closes a door he opens a window"?

I've taken Jesus by to these moments many times recently. I've shown him the places in my life where disappointment thrives. When I tell him how different I thought things would be by now...When I mention the progress and success I thought we would share...the reality of where I am hurts. There is no way to hide the disappointment...especially from him. Rather than anger and frustration at my inability to fully trust him...His same, peaceful response is "Josh, Abide in me."

It's not delivered in a way that leaves my questions open. It's not a cheap answer...The way he says it is full of reassurance. The soft tone in his voice, the peace that envelops my heart reminds me of the simple fact that He is my dwelling place. My rest...my everything lies within him.

After seeing all that he has delivered me from and accepted me through, how can I not trust him with every moment of every day?

Why would we hide anything from a God who is so very present and interested? Why would we deprive him of this offering of trust and unfathomable friendship?

We truly have nothing to lose and everything to gain...

Just trust.







　

Imagine...

Many mistake faithlessness for spiritual maturity—which is why there is a lack of hope among us.  It seems as if God’s people have lost all hope in him.  Why do we choose to stop dreaming?  Why is it so easy for us to lose a child-like faith when it comes to our Abba?  God desires to set his people forth in a world that desperately needs him, but we just don’t seem to be impressed enough with his infinitive qualities to place all of our trust in him.

What would happen if we became completely comfortable with Jesus and Father God?  What would happen to us if we allowed the Holy Spirit complete and total access to all that we are, all that we’ve been, and all that we secretly hope to become?  Can you imagine the possibilities?  The world is in dire need of a culture of believers who are willing to fall ridiculously in love with Jesus—a love that allows us to share all of our lives with him, and a love that allows him to be comfortable within us.  Unfortunately, we are a culture of—well, I don’t know what we are.

I’ve often thought that people simply patronize the teachings of the relational concepts of the trinity.  The few attempts that I have made with this subject seemingly spark a very small majority of the audience, but for the most part I can feel an atmosphere of “bless his heart, he’s trying.” 

IT IS REAL.  Consistent communion, joyous fun, deep—inseparable intimacy with a living God, His Son, and His Spirit calls to us.  That relationship waits for us to grab hold of it and allow our lives to completely and totally wrap around it—which is unfortunate.  Why would such an offer have to wait when it comes to people that claim to be of the faith?  If we truly believe that the possibility for this type of relationship existed, we would run to it with all that we are.

My heart leaps and my eyes weep at the thought of the body of Christ experiencing him daily.  I’m truly overcome when I think of what could happen if we just came to the understanding that we are ONE spirit with him.  But, then I’m forced to ask myself the same question:  what would happen if I allowed myself to understand that I am ONE spirit with Christ—that I am connected to Christ by a heavenly bridge called the Holy Spirit and my steps are ordained by God the Father as long as I remain in this connection…

What could be accomplished in our lives?  What could the life of Christ create through us?  I believe that eye has truly not seen and ear has not heard.

Unfortunately, I USED to live my life according to this faith.  I allowed myself to be silly enough to believe that God could do anything and there was no reason that he couldn’t use me to do it…

Why I let this faith go, I will never know.  I suppose that my patience disappeared and the more I ponder it, I think I allowed myself to become bitter with God because my time table wasn’t being met.  I certainly didn’t leave my first love, but I changed the way that I loved Him…I’m not sure which is worse.  When I first grabbed the concept of a personal relationship with Christ (not a sinner’s prayer and life of service, but a RELATIONSHIP!) it was a beautiful thing.  I loved Abba Father, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit in a way that was natural and organic to whom I am.  I loved them all in a way that only I could.  But, somewhere along my journey my love grew stale, corporate, and a bit generic.  I allowed my dependency on them all to substitute as my love for them. 

How often do we do that?  How often do we replace desire with need?  Our NEED for God goes without saying.  The creation is nothing when it separates itself from the creator—but our desire for him is the thing that sets us apart.  Our desire for his love, his intimacy, his fatherhood is the very thing that will birth the unimaginable…

Being considered wise, ripe, or mature isn’t worth losing that faith.  Being so consumed with how people perceive us is of no value to us—but it’s the recklessness of our faith—the abandonment of our logic and our total trust in Our Father that brings us worth…

So, I’d like to declare this first of all to my Abba and secondly to the audience of this keyboard—No matter how silly my love looks to me and sounds to others it will be poured out.  No matter how nervous the magnitude of my dreams make me, they will be returned to Him as an offering and steps will be taken toward them.  If I see them become tangible I will know that they were his, if not—at least there was an effort.  If my journey is at its peak now or if there’s an unimaginable future down this path—it doesn’t matter.  All that matters is that I completely trust, give foolish dependence, and share a completely personalized love to the one who is worthy of so much more. 

Jesus, Father, Spirit, this life is yours.  I want you above all else, so—help me to keep my love and trust “right” and feel free to do this life through me---it’s the best I can do.