I Have Decided to Follow Jesus

Even as I begin, I am going back and forth on that title, because that song belongs to someone of great faith, one who gave all. This was not a flimsy line or song of human faith or will, or an emotional stirring of how easy it is to give our lives to Christ. What became India's first widespread Christian hymn was a martyr's last words in the 1880's. This man spoke the words of the song as his children, then his wife and after he finally proclaimed, "the cross before me, the world behind me", he was arrowed down as well, joining his family in martyrdom. The great persecutor, the chief of his tribe, upon witnessing Christ's work, spontaneously declared his faith in Jesus and the violent, bloodthirsty tribe was turned to Jesus Christ.

So, I pale in comparison. But Jesus shines bright in every situation. The last line of that man's life rang true to me a few days ago as I equated it to my own line of thinking: My fear behind me, my faith before me. Fear is of the world, and I have been experiencing my fair share of doubt and fear in the past few weeks. Faith is of the cross. The only way that I can say "my" faith is knowing that it really isn't mine at all. If it were, I would certainly be the most arrogant being on earth.

My faith is in Jesus Christ. It is not faith in my efforts, goodness, steadfastness or fortitude. My faith is in Jesus Christ, so I get to-- by His grace to us-- claim Him. His efforts, goodness and steadfastness and all that He accomplished on the cross of which we sing, they are all mine. "Amazing grace" just doesn't cut it, folks! But the praise and thanksgiving we can and should have is limited by our human state.

Accordingly, my faith should be immeasurable. Not there yet. I pray I keep inching closer. But that is my desire as I follow the Immeasurable.

Loss is hard. God's great love for "the least of these" has been pouring into me more and more over the past few months. Even during transfer, as we were told two embryos had not survived the thaw, I felt loss. Other mothers may know this feeling, but the week after transfer, I knew I was pregnant. Friday I knew it, by Saturday night-- though I didn't relent my hopefulness-- I knew I wasn't. Even if I never was actually pregnant, the loss of three lives is utter pain. At one point, I felt some sort of badge would help me identify with someone else so I could lessen the blow. The badge of miscarriage wasn't necessarily confirmed but no badge helps anyway. We are in our own journey and ultimately it is our own pain, which on some level is unrelatable.

On top of loss was bitter disagreement between Tim and I about our next step. I have never felt so distant from him, but I was thanking God for the reassurance that we would be all right, that we would come to agreement. Yet, in the meantime, it was literally gut-wrenching anguish.

Early on in grief and deciding to attempt another transfer, God gave me this:

There are still lives that need a chance. There are still conversations to have and blogs to write. There is still, more so, opportunity to show and experience faith with our kids-- and demonstrating the cost thereof. There is still more depth to engage in the ocean of God. There is still more trial to better show Gods glory in the triumph. There are still more hands to lift in surrender and praise. There is still more to know of God to make Him known.

As most of you know, we are planning embryo transfer in September. I am excited, elated and waiting to see what the Lord is going to do but fear crept in a few times. The fear is stepping onto the same path that could bring the same pain. Then God reminds me "Faith not fear. Fear behind me, faith before me."

The world behind me, the cross before me. No turning back, no turning back.

Where Feet May Fail

A quiet house. A solemn evening of reflection. My mind and stubborn will damming the reservoir of tears behind my eyes.  Afraid of feeling pain, disappointment and anger. Afraid that if the dam released – or later breached – the river would never cease to flow. Still, over all that, an immersion in God's peace that truly passes all understanding.

The dam released in a rush of hurt and angry questions: "I have faith, and this is what You do? I stepped in obedience and this is how You answer? I dare to not doubt and this is Your reward?" The rage of anger that churned in the trench of the dam soon subsided to a gentle ripple over the pebbles downstream. Hurt preceded and followed anger over the falls, into the tumult of the ravaging undertow. Yet, God enveloped my soul in peace and wrapped my heart in his love in the deep of the afterbay.

A quiet house. A light rereading of essays in CS Lewis's The Weight of Glory. "A Slip of the Tongue" caught my eye, captured my attention, then rendered my heart toward Him. The following excerpts are out of Lewis's written order but re-ordered as excerpts sometimes require – or you should read the whole essay. I feel so doing is a sin of the postmodern and I may very well need to apologize to Lewis when I see him.

This is my endlessly recurrent temptation: to go down to that Sea (I think Saint John of the Cross called God a sea) and there neither dive not swim nor float, but only dabble and splash, careful not to get out of my depth and holding on to the lifeline which connects me with my things temporal....of course that lifeline is really a death line.

The root principle of all these precautions is the same: to guard the things temporal... The man will not venture within reach of the eternal until he has made the things temporal safe in advance.

[God] will be infinitely merciful to our repeated failures; I know no promise that He will accept a deliberate compromise....failures will be forgiven; it is acquiescence that is fatal, the permitted regularised presence of an area in ourselves which we still claim for our own.

What matters, what Heaven desires and Hell fears, is precisely that further step, out of our depth, out of our own control.

 For He claims all, because He is love and must bless. He cannot bless us unless He has us. When we try to keep within us an area that is our own, we try to keep an area of death. Therefore, in love, He claims all. There's no bargaining with Him.

What God does for us, God does in us. 

As I hand my natural inhibitions, my stubborn pride over to God, the Sea, I am ever safer in His will, immersed in His grace and promises. We dared to dive into embryo adoption and not merely dip our toes for Godly refreshment. And when we are deep – we are deep in the sea of God Himself.

 I am saddened by the pride of those who constantly mock the songs of another preference, in this case, the songs of the contemporary. There are many to be rebuke, but reconsider the actual theology that is reflective of Lewis's essay in the much demeaned song "Oceans."

And I will call upon Your name, 
keep my eyes above the waves, 
my soul will rest in your embrace, 
for I am Yours and You are mine.

Faith in the Sovereign

Here I sit in a hard-backed chair at Midway airport waiting for Tim to arrive from Baltimore. My plan was to knock out a few hours of work while pining away for my love. Since when does my plan ever work? Needing WIFI to which I’m supposedly connected, I sigh, “I’ve got some time to kill.” Spirit reminded me that the last sentence is not of Him. Each moment is time to live, time to embrace, time to see Him—time to be intentionally filled. Sometimes that intention is work; sometimes it is silence and stillness. But time isn’t to kill: God filled time with life, even while sitting at an airport food court.

(That was a free prelude with no good segue into what God has put on my heart to write. Sorry if you think it was a time-killer.)

We are three days away from confirming pregnancy. Yes, confirming. I fully trust and rest and believe I am pregnant. I fully trust God’s calling and His plan for our family. A 7:00 am appointment in Maple Grove for a blood pregnancy test on Monday will preempt the call from my clinic in the afternoon.

In this life of faith, I feel myself holding on to tension between two hands. When we are sorrowing and mourning, we are also rejoicing. When we are looking up for consummation and our inheritance, we are constantly looking around us burdened with the need of the world. The dichotomies seem irreconcilable, yet they are reality only in and through faith in Jesus.

I hold in one hand “if you have faith as small as a mustard seed…” with “Thy will be done” in the other. Are we not supposed to live by faith to the God of the impossible, raising His very Son from the dead? Honestly, sometimes that call to bold and confident faith does not seem to jive with accepting all as God’s will, especially as it may seem to fly in the face of the boldness to which we are called.

When I boldly proclaim in faith, “I am pregnant!”, am I putting God’s reputation on the line? What happens if I weren’t? Why would anyone on the outside looking in believe the God who called us to this and doesn’t follow through? That is a whole lot of pressure, friends, trying to uphold God’s reputation.

Thankfully, I don’t need to and God certainly does not need me to concern myself with His reputation. He’s the only One able to do so. He is accountable only to Himself, answerable to no one as the Sovereign.

Sovereign Lord, you have begun to show your servant your greatness and your strong hand. For what God is there in heaven or on earth who can do the deeds and mighty works you do? Deuteronomy 3:24