more tomorrow than today

Friday, February 26, 2010

Soldier, did you know?

Soldier, did you know?
Did you know the flow you released for me?
Did you know captives were being set free?
Did you know the Treasure that hit the ground?
Did you know the life beneath the spiny crown?
Could you feel the power of the spattering?
What soiled you there could make you clean.
Did you wash it off?
Another guilty man's blood?
Did you know it would have been yours instead?
Was it just another day?
Was it just another death?
What you did thoughtlessly
has fully paid my debt.
Were you numb and callous?
Did you know His story well?
Were you reluctant or eager?
Were you proud or ashamed?
Did you know how precious His willingness?
He did it for me
He did it for you
Every drop you spilled
He intentionally poured.
All for love
All for glory
Did you wash Him off?
Or come to depend
on the covering of His blood
to cover all your sin?
What was filth to you
has washed me clean,
Whiter than snow, righteousness
He let you do it.
Praise the Holy One.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

one of those days

Several parts of my day were not what I had wanted. You know, days where things just cannot seem to go your way. Days you summarize with, "It's just been one of those days." Days when minor crises almost stop surprising you because you write the day off according to that definition.

Today was one of those. Some things heavier--another declined job application. Some things petty--a little spilled soy sauce on my car's passenger seat. Nothing catastrophic. Nothing tragic. Just enough discouragement to numb me into believing that the day was just meant to be trying.

And maybe sometimes that is true. Ask Job. But I know he would gladly have traded days with me if given the opportunity. Anyway, back to the day.

The "one of those days" label inserted itself just after I smeared the soy sauce further into the fabric of my car seat. But, praise the Lord! The Spirit shot up an immediate red flag on the lie that my enemy was ever-so-subtly planting.

Really, truly, what kind of day was it?

It was one of those days...when His mercies rose anew with the sun.

It was one of those days...when His blood still satisfied the debt my sin had earned.

It was one of those days...when I was clothed in His righteousness and never my shame.

It was one of those days...when my Heavenly Father rejoiced over me with singing.

It was one of those days...when I accepted grace by the lung-full without a second thought.

It was one of those days...when the God of the universe pursued and delighted and gloried in a costly relationship with me. Costly not because He could not afford me, but because I could never afford Him so He paid the price to cover me.

It was one of those days...when the Truth set me free.

I will bring praise.

Friday, February 12, 2010

wrapping up Exodus

The end of the book of Exodus begins the more tedious readings in the Bible: the beginning of the Law, specifications for the tabernacle, the building of the tabernacle along with all the accessories, utensils and garments, more laws to come followed by stimulating geneological accounts of the people of Israel. It is at this point that reading through the Bible in a year becomes a little less glamorous, a little more daunting, and honestly, a little more boring.

But something captured my imagination today as I read about Aaron's priestly garments. All along I've been trying to remind myself that these specifications are reflections of the original institutions in heaven, but I had never considered what that must mean for the beauty of Christ.

Exodus 39 says, "8 He made the breastpiece, in skilled work, in the style of the ephod, of gold, blue and purple and scarlet yarns, and fine twined linen. 9It was square. They made the breastpiece doubled, a span its length and a span its breadth when doubled. 10And they set in it four rows of stones. A row of sardius, topaz, and carbuncle was the first row; 11and the second row, an emerald, a sapphire, and a diamond; 12and the third row, a jacinth, an agate, and an amethyst; 13and the fourth row, a beryl, an onyx, and a jasper. They were enclosed in settings of gold filigree. 14There were twelve stones with their names according to the names of the sons of Israel. They were like signets, each engraved with its name, for the twelve tribes. 15And they made on the breastpiece twisted chains like cords, of pure gold. 16And they made two settings of gold filigree and two gold rings, and put the two rings on the two edges of the breastpiece. 17And they put the two cords of gold in the two rings at the edges of the breastpiece. 18They attached the two ends of the two cords to the two settings of filigree. Thus they attached it in front to the shoulder pieces of the ephod. 19Then they made two rings of gold, and put them at the two ends of the breastpiece, on its inside edge next to the ephod. 20And they made two rings of gold, and attached them in front to the lower part of the two shoulder pieces of the ephod, at its seam above the skillfully woven band of the ephod. 21And they bound the breastpiece by its rings to the rings of the ephod with a lace of blue, so that it should lie on the skillfully woven band of the ephod, and that the breastpiece should not come loose from the ephod, as the LORD had commanded Moses."

My mind and heart have been fascinated by the implications of the garments fashioned for those who were the foreshadowers of Christ.

First, if such ornate design went into the garments of the Levitical priests, how much more intricate is the perfection of Jesus for His duty as Great High Priest. How perfectly God formed Him in the virgin womb. How intentional every step He took on earth, every word that came from His mouth, every life touched by His hand. If no detail or extravagance was spared in the finite replica for Aaron, how much more confidence can we have in the perfectly, intentionally, infinitely extravagant Person of Jesus Christ?

Second, how beautiful He is. How holy He is. The breastpiece held 12 stones, the colors of which I am not familiar. How expensive and rare and precious. The garments were white with gold intertwined in the cords and embroidery. Literal gold that had to be flattened and shaved into threads. The priest was to shine, to be radiant, splendid. Oh how beautiful the body of Jesus. On earth we decorated His with stripes, with ribbons of crimson, with intertwined thorns. But when He returns He will shine in brilliant light, and He will not need a sign such as Aaron had. Aaron's sign was for his forehead and read, "Holy to the Lord." But when Jesus comes, there will be no question. No soul will doubt His holiness. He will be clothed in the brightest white, piercing darkness once and for all.

And every eye will see His beauty, His infinite worth, His all-consuming holiness. Not just Moses, not just the redeemed. Every eye. Physically. Face-to-face, as much as our faces can withstand.

And every knee will bow. The weight will be too great, the contrast too stark, the reality too humbling. We will realize how unworthy are our eyes to behold such beauty and we will bow our knees, our selves, before the King, the Savior, the Great High Priest.

Come quickly, Lord Jesus!

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

"Dancing With My Father"

Given my recent reentry into ballet, I'm looking forward to adding Sally Clarkson's "Dancing With My Father" to my reading list for 2010. As lame as it may sound, I came across her blog on Twitter as a recommendation from Priscilla Shirer. Dancing has always been a special love language between my Heavenly Father and me, and I look forward to seeing what insight Sally will offer on sweet intimacy with Him.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

only God

21 days. No sweets. No snoozing my alarm. No secular music.

At first I almost felt like I was taking the easy way out by not doing a complete Daniel fast. But as I prayed about it, I knew this was what the Lord was asking. And as the days went on, I knew it was true fasting. It became difficult, challenging, revealing.

Sweets were simple at first. I had binged consistently since Thanksgiving (maybe even Halloween) so the first week was one of good riddance. No cravings. No temptations. No problem. But that really did not last long. As week two began I realized all the times I would typically turn to sweets to be the final word on a meal, fill free time, include me in social outings. I also noticed how natural it was, second-nature even, to reach for sweets without so much as a pause to ponder what I was about to eat, gauge my hunger, or reach for something healthier. I came to a point of perpetual hunger simply by removing this one dietary staple.

Snoozing my alarm? I knew from the beginning that it would not be an easy habit to break. I changed my alarm name to "snooze fast" so I would be immediately convicted and reminded each morning. The practice did wonders for my morning routine, allowing me to spend more time in the Word and less time rushing out the door. But it did eventually take a toll on my needed rest. I came to be exhausted and truly came to the end of myself. I started to see that my own righteousness, goodness and joy is hopelessly depleted before the alarm goes off if I am not consumed by Christ.

Secular music. It fills the car with "nothingness" to dance to, daydream to, escape to. Its emptiness makes reality evasion so easy. But Christian music causes me to live in reality, both on good days and on bad days. On good days, it brought me to praise, to true joy and intimacy with the Lord. And on bad days, it was convicting and irritating. I could not get away from my sin or discontent. It was ever before me. And even when I could not take it anymore, the music would be turned off and push me into dialogue with God about what I was doing, thinking, feeling, pursuing. It required honesty, gravity, decisive living. I don't want to dance through life without thinking.

As I fasted from each of these things and prayed for the community, I also began a journey toward determining who I want to be. My current place in life seems to require that I soon decide what I want to do, but I have also been given an incredible opportunity to take the time it requires to focus on who I am. I began a list of phrases I hope are uttered at my funeral, but was soon overwhelmed as the gap grew wider between who I am and all I desire to be. Spending so much time thinking about myself would have been miserable no matter how "good" the prognosis, but to see so many short-comings was nearly unbearable. This process took place in this last week, and as I reached the end of myself in so many ways, I became despondent, frustrated, irritable, and stuck.

For the life of me I could not talk myself out of the funk I was in. I had seen so much sin, so many ways in which I desperately want to be more like Christ, and exhausted so many resources of time and energy. So Thursday afternoon before the Night of Worship, as I reached my end, the Lord gently asked, "Are you done, Kate?" To which I responded, "Done with what?" He said, "Done trying to do life on your own? Will you let Me be everything? Not just what you do, but who you are?"

Maybe my head knew it in the past, but for the first time I recognized my dependency on Christ to be everything about me. I have to depend on Him, not just for what He can do through me, but who He can be through me. The realization brought such sweet freedom as He filled me with joy in His abundance, His overwhelming ability and willingness to rule and reign in my heart. My exhaustion gave way to relieve.

He is giving me righteousness to pursue this year, but I know it will be in His strength alone.

Love.

Boldness.

Discipline.

"For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control." 2 Timothy 1:7

This is who I want to be. He will do it. Only God.