If I waited until things got perfect around here to write, this blog would end right here and now. Lately I’ve been on the edge of a huge deep ravine into which I felt a bit like I’m slipping. Then the Wonderful Counselor brought this Psalm to my mind. It reminds me that I’m not the first one in history to think these thoughts. He also offers a solution to these downward spiraling emotions. My feet had almost slipped. I had nearly lost my foothold.
It’s so easy to wish for more. For I envied the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.
The latest bloodwork and CT scan shows that Matthew’s sinuses are still being a pain and he will have to have another infusion in the near future. At times I feel like They have no struggles; their bodies are healthy and strong. They are free from common human burdens; they are not plagued by human ills.
But then I remember that They say, “How would God know? Does the Most High know anything?” And I am blessed to know that He DOES.
But I’m still doubtful and compare myself to others. People who seem like they have it all together with their laundry piles, bank accounts, child-raising, meal-planning, body type and choice of vehicle. When I stay in this place, though, it’s a scary, slippery place to be. I have to get out of here.
When I tried to understand all this, it troubled me deeply till I entered the sanctuary of God;
That sanctuary often becomes the place where I stop and stand on the outskirts. All of a sudden I notice the muddy shoes, the messy hair, the worn out clothes on my not-perfect body. So many times I walk away when I’m just one step away from entering His presence. I let doubt overtake the truth. I’m not good enough, I believe. What I’m really saying is that Jesus isn’t enough.
When my heart was grieved and my spirit embittered, I was senseless and ignorant; I was a brute beast before you. When I realize my error and take in a little bit more of the depth of Christ’s love that has clothed me in perfection… I step inside His sanctuary. The surroundings are always different. I used to imagine that the ideal place to meet with God was on a sunny window seat with fluffed pillows and the perfect cup of tea in hand. If I wait for that, though, I will forever stand on the outskirts of God’s presence. Right now it’s in the middle of our house with car noises in the background and the smell of baking banana bread wafting through the air. There is noise, so often noise, in the sanctuary. That is when I excuse myself because I can’t possibly be in the presence of the God of Heaven. He can only be where perfect peace and quiet exist… not clutter and mess and unbelieveably loud decibles. When I think that way, I never live in His presence. I slip into behaving like He’s not around, and I hurt my kids and disgust myself. The heart of the sanctuary can be quiet, when everything around me is loud. I’m learning.
Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. Hold it tighter, please. Don’t let me forget. Keep me from slipping over that edge.
You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. Not the best thing earth can offer compares with the peace that passes understanding.
My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
Those who are far from you will perish; you destroy all who are unfaithful to you. But as for me, it is good to be near God.
I have made the Sovereign LORD my refuge; I will tell of all your deeds. I will not pretend that my life is perfectly put together. But I can confidently say that when I live in His presence, it is a safe place to be. Safe from discontent, despair, and doubt. I WILL tell you about the great things He’s done for me. I will keep on telling His deeds until I have no more breath to speak.