Take Some Time To Rest

Photo by Val Vesa on Unsplash
Photo by Val Vesa on Unsplash

I was so exhausted from religious works. The youth pastor told me, ‘Take some time and just sit in the Father’s lap.’ I asked him what he meant. He repeated himself. He didn’t seem to understand why I didn’t understand him.

At that point I had no grid for enjoying God. ‘Time in God’s presence’ was, for me, an unpleasant ‘quiet time’ in the morning, meant to equip me for whatever work he would have me do that day (usually half-hearted, misguided attempts at ‘ministry’).

I had no understanding of how to enjoy God. And it took a long time before I could do that.

It took some time getting knocked out on the floor, repeatedly, under the power of God, in revival.

It took hearing good (yet challenging) theology from people like John Crowder and Benjamin Dunn and others.

And it’s been a journey since then.

Now I can just relax in His presence. Sure, I would love to get better at not thinking about my next agenda, but I am free for him to enjoy me and for me to enjoy him without strings, without expectations, just me and the Trinity, a love fest without end.

You Can’t Escape

michael-jasmund-581395-unsplash
Photo by Michael Jasmund on Unsplash

I was grieving inside. My life over the past few days had been dominated by distraction. I wasn’t reading the Bible as I should, I wasn’t listening to worship music, I wasn’t ‘doing the stuff’ necessary for spiritual growth.

I was afraid.

Afraid of backsliding. Afraid of falling away. Afraid of going back to distractions.

I had spent five years away from grace, forgetting who I was in Christ, time away from what I knew of His Presence, wasted time focused on video games and not much else.

I didn’t want to go back.

I pleaded with God, “Lord, I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to backslide. I’m not doing the things I need to do to grow. I’m scared.”

I saw a circle around me, the Trinity. I saw myself surrounded in a love embrace. I saw myself in a dark room. When I would back away in fear, God’s presence was there.

“Beloved, you can’t get away from me. When you back away from me, you will back right into me. When you run away, you will run right into my arms. When you go, I will follow. I am always here, and will always be with you.”

I put on some worship music and just cried and cried. I was still afraid, but a little less afraid. I knew He wasn’t lying, but I was still grieved. I wasn’t in sin, but I was still worried about distraction.

I went to sleep that night still bothered. Surely God was with me, but if so, why was I having a hard time concentrating on what mattered (the Bible) and an easier time concentrating on what didn’t matter (fiction novels)?

I don’t have an answer for this yet.

Jesus, Inside

I sat in the prayer room for a long time, back in the Dark Days, back in the Dry Times before I understood grace.

This song, Jesus, You’re Beautiful, by Jon Thurlow, was one of the songs that I remember from those times. Recently, some friends of mine sang it during a worship session and ‘redeemed’ the song in my mind.

I know that your eyes are like flames of fire
I know that your head is white as wool
I know that your voice, it sounds like waters
Jesus, you’re beautiful

On the way home, I reflected upon the Dark Days, where I would sing songs like this and attempt to think heavenly thoughts. We were to develop ‘holy imaginations’, reflecting on passages that described God, such as in Ezekiel, Daniel, and Revelation. I don’t know if it ever worked for me. I tended to get distracted easily back then.

In the middle of my remembering, I had a conversation with Jesus that went something like this:

You know, I’m honored when you talk about my physical appearance, but I much prefer talking about me in you.

I felt the presence of God inside, a strong sense of Jesus-being-within.

I don’t mind people talking about what I look like, but it distracts from the experience of having me stand up inside them, ‘Christ in you, the hope of glory.’ It’s easy to become obsessed with seeing me in my physical form, but I want people to realize that I am right there, inside, through the Holy Spirit.

The focus changed. I still sang the song to myself, but it was no longer about a Person, distant and far away, on a Throne somewhere else in the cosmos.

It was about Christ in me, the hope of glory.