“You may be very discontented with yourself… no genius, have no brilliant gifts… are inconspicuous… mediocrity is the law of your existence… Your days are remarkable for nothing but sameness and insipidity. Yet you may have a great life.”
Well that started out on a refreshing note, didn’t it? But then I continued to read and came to the author of the section I was reading. Humbled that I thought it was a tough read, and, yes, a convicting one. This, from the Streams in the Desert devotional, a daily reading habit I’ve taken up again. (note: Sift some entries if you take up reading this devotional) The section was quoted material from the writings of George Matheson. And then I continued to read the deeply instructive passage and gleaned a great deal from it – maybe more now that I’m sharing it with you than I understood, initially.
The same George Matheson who wrote perhaps one of the most beautiful hymns ever penned. The same George Matheson who became blind at the age of twenty – a writer, a minister of the gospel… never married, blind. Blind but saw more than I see today.
The passage continued, “Be willing to be only a voice, heard but not seen… Do the commonest and smallest things as beneath His eye…. If you have made a great mistake in your life, do not let it becloud all of it; but, locking the secret in your breast, compel it to yield strength and sweetness. We’re doing more good than we know, sowing seed, starting streamlets, giving men true thoughts of Christ, to which they’ll refer one day…”
All of these things gave birth to the affirmation of the truth that the love of God will not let us go. O, what a Saviour. O, Love that will not let me go!
♥
O Love That Will Not Let Me Go
George Matheson
O Love that will not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.
O Light that foll’west all my way,
I yield my flick’ring torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.
O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.
O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, To an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you, Who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations: That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ: Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory: Receiving the end of your faith, even the salvation of your souls. Of which salvation the prophets have enquired and searched diligently, who prophesied of the grace that should come unto you.” 1Peter 1.3-10
I don’t know of a time of year that has more potential to be more oppressive, more directive, or more influential regarding thoughts and emotions than this time of year — this “holiday season.” [cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]My son, attend to my words; incline thine ear… Let them not depart from thine eyes; keep them in the midst of thine heart. For they are life… and health… Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life… and perverse lips put far from thee. Let thine eyes look right on… Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established.”
And unto the angel of the church in Sardis write; These things saith he that hath the seven Spirits of God, and the seven stars; I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead. 2 Be watchful, and strengthen the things which remain, that are ready to die: for I have not found thy works perfect before God. 3 Remember therefore how thou hast received and heard, and hold fast, and repent. If therefore thou shalt not watch, I will come on thee as a thief, and thou shalt not know what hour I will come upon thee. 4 Thou hast a few names even in Sardis which have not defiled their garments; and they shall walk with me in white: for they are worthy. 5 He that overcometh, the same shall be clothed in white raiment; and I will not blot out his name out of the book of life, but I will confess his name before my Father, and before his angels. 6 He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches.” Revelation 3.1-6
Giving up is not an option. Cutting off all contact is not an option. Negating or negotiating wrong choices is not an option. Reversing the damages is not an option — that is to say, whatever precipitated the wrong choices is done. You cannot recreate the past. If you made stupid parenting decisions, if you weren’t there as a parent, if you messed up — whatever — you have to get past the idea that you can, today, make your yesterdays or their yesterdays any different. But you can walk on in obedience and faith today.
As I was mulling over a bunch of different events and circumstances affecting or involving our home and family this morning as the winds of change continue to blow, and I found myself reeling in thoughts of sadness, happiness, doubt, hope, confusion — as if tossed in the waves of a rolling sea. And then, almost as immediately as my mind was filled with cares of this life, I was calmed by the blessed assurance that “the lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places” (psalm 16) and, truly, the Lord is ever before me. And, I’m further comforted that regardless of how this ship is tossed to and fro or whether it takes on water — or whether I stagger about, one thing I know (that I know that I know that I know): my Anchor holds.
Waiting. Perhaps the simplest and most difficult action we’re commanded is waiting. I don’t know if anything epitomizes our sin nature more than our natural response to waiting. We’re naturally prone to not wait. To not want to wait. To not seek to wait. More often than not, we believe or live as though we believe otherwise. Think of the times you’ve exclaimed, “I cannot wait!” in reference to an upcoming event or for somewhere you want to go or for something you want to do or for someone you want to see. But in the end, you waited, though you thought you could not.