What's In His Name?

Her name was Bethany.

It was such a big deal that her name was Bethany. It still stands out in my mind. I get into names.

She said that God had given her that name.

She said that she had known God intimately, the way I wanted to know Him.

She said that God had taught her to surrender fully and completely.

She said a lot of things.

But she never mentioned the name of Jesus.

...

Want the rest of the story? I'm guest-posting for @katdish today. Click over to "Hey Look, a Chicken!" to find out how God used my encounter with Bethany to reveal my own incredible need for Jesus.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

this grace

It seemed at times there was never a chance at grace, really. "Saved" from one right way into a different, higher right, the true way, the "straight-and-narrow" (which turned out to be wider than many imagined, because it took no work of the Spirit to get there). Just worldview and logic and argument and a good act that wasn't quite an act because it was sincerely lived and believed.

Of course it involved pride-breaking, admitting to disagreeing perspective, trading old perspective for new pride, safety, control - but never true God-humility, that broken, contrite heart-sacrifice where grace-growth is born at the feet of God - no, at the end of His extended scepter.

And so they inflicted the same wounds they received, because the wounds were never identified, treated, healed, never broken open and bled out to mingle with the blood of the One who already bore them in His own body. Instead, pain was covered over with answers and empty God-explanations no one can really be serious about making, no matter how sincere they intend to be.

The meeting was essential for accountability, but most always He was late to arrive, as if He was putting off His visits, salvaging His Name for something holier, something Truer, wishing to introduce Himself as who He was, I AM, the beginning and the end of life-grace breathed from His own God-nostrils into the dust of His Son, into His Spirit meant to hold His own for Him until the day of Redemption.

And that was it - there wasn't a chance outside of Him for grace, no breath without Gospel that is Jesus Christ crucified and alive and full of grace and Truth. Not a chance outside of God-given faith that could not be dredged up or imitated, for who really has faith in a certain Hope these days, when it doesn't hold a certain requested result?

No one has grace for this but Him, for yet a little while, as He is finishing the work He began, spilling over God-patience into the Love that He is and out onto His Chosen who sometimes think they are doing Him a favor with all their good intentions.

For He knows what is not yet seen in His Spirit, that grace and good works and true love is found in knowing Him, and that way is narrow, and discovered rarely without Spirit-help as He reveals I Am to those who think they already are.

I lived here once, and I have been given this grace to not know and this grace to know now.

But the living there...

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Also visit Amber and L.L. Barkat for a bit more on grace and a giveaway...






(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Imagine

I know it is summer,
But I am wrapping Christmas gifts
and watching autumn leaves fall
and hoping for snow,
just like always.
I am living in a house I love
with weather that is cool and clear
and I am happier there than I am here,
aren't I?

At least, I imagine I am.

If all my dreams come true,
from cool autumn sunsets
and a front porch swing with apple cider,
to white Christmases
and soft cool springs
to green grass and real trees
and the things I've grown up loving
surrounding me,
I can be content.

At least, I imagine I can.

But homesick will always be my coming home;
sometimes my dreams aren't meant for me.
It is in this longing
that I groan
imagining happy that is not mine
desire thwarted by a larger Heart who knows
my peace is Him,
and He will never leave me nor forsake me.

And I imagine He is enough
but it hurts sometimes because I am here
and I cry a lot
because He doesn't look like what I want.

But He knows what I cannot imagine
and He says He is more than that
and hope that is seen
isn't hope at all.

So faith is more than I imagine
not blind leaping in the dark
but sure enough so I can walk
and weep
and ask with open hands
and hear God's loving "Wait"
and I do not despair
of His goodness to me.

gomer

i think she must have been a wild thing, don't you? only the deepest, gentlest love could turn her heart, draw her passion into the wilderness. and she gave chase. and found nothing.

and everything.

she was never cowed, never beaten, never forced to see. to see that everything she wanted had been there all along. to see that the love she longed for was coming for her, had never left, would pursue her forever.

to see Faithfulness and Mercy.

never coerced.

she was allured. beloved. freed.

the things she expected from Him she did not receive; He gentled the wildness of the mountains in her, refined her, gave to her what she had rejected, what she had not earned. what she could not earn.

comfort, hope, peace, righteousness, justice, lovingkindness - He was so kind, and she did not deserve His kindness. did not want it. but wanted it so!

and He sowed her out to other wild hearts who did not deserve the love she knew, Ruhamah - "mercy is shown." He grew His love. He reaped a people who were not His, and He was their God.

foolish, broken, beloved woman - finding fellowship in the wilderness with the sufferings of Jesus who died. He knew your sin, He knew the wildness in your heart, the incorrigible passion that sent you after fulfillment, that drew you into this wilderness.

He knows the song - He is the song. it's all right. you can sing it. He has already given you everything at the Cross, and now He gives you His Life.

i think she is still a wild thing. a wild, beloved thing. a rather foolish, weak, wild, beloved thing.

but she is His.

"I am my beloved’s, and his desire is toward me." (S.of S. 7:10)