Posts Tagged ‘God’s glory’

I drop my head between my hands, tears well in the corners of my eyes, heart, and sighs.

Everything in me wants to fight, to scream, to defend, and to show that I am more than who people think they know.

When my voice feels silenced and my life unseen- I push, I pull, I fight in the tug of war of wanting so much more. I chase and pursue every opportunity that comes into view; Frustrated, wondering what else am I supposed to do!?

Only He is the defender of the weak, father to the fatherless, home to the lonely, lifter of my head, and one who knows my name.

He fights for those who are still. So I sit, still, in quiet desperation. Still is my posture when waiting is all I have.

The illusion of control is surrendered. Knees are buckled, and the bruises of this reed are bowed.

Self-sufficient strength is exhausted, leaving the only option of faith. And I sit in the dark night of quiet desperation.

God, do you hear, do you see? Where is the exhale, the reprieve? When will it be my turn to do the thing I yearn most to glorify you?

Quiet desperation

It’s the deep place below the surface where the waves rise and the water is stirred.

Quiet desperation speaks of the heart’s tension between wrestling and waiting on what only He can do.

Choosing faith in the midst of waiting ignites the heart of quiet desperation.

It sits and waits through the longing and the ache. It chooses joy and celebration even when it feels fake.

Quiet desperation happens within the places only He can reach. We have wounds only He can speak..truth into the lies only He can reach. And dreams which only His steps can make.

Quiet desperation waits in humility and obedience in the hope that the other side of “someday” will be proved true.

So my hope for me and you, is that we see the face and the hands of the one who is making all things new.

Quiet desperation is not forever.

Maybe you’re wondering about the how of what to do with “right now.”

Be still and know that He is God.


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I am a but-head. (I can hear the whisper’s under your breath now… “umm..did she just say butt-head?”)

As I read some of the stories of Jesus, I find myself interjecting the same “but…” statements that most of the other characters say. Jesus was a man who did and said amazingly illogical things.

Sometimes I wish I could have been a witness to the responses of the people around Jesus. I wonder how many times Jesus heard crickets after he asked the crowd a question, or even just his disciples. I also wonder how many times he heard, “but Jesus…” in response to his illogical ways.

I heard my own hesitating responses to Jesus as I read the story of Lazarus.

Lazarus, and his two sisters, Mary and Martha, were some of Jesus’ BFF’s. Lazarus had fallen ill and passed away. Jesus, hearing the news of his friend’s illness, stayed where he was. Now if I were one of is disciples, I would have started packing up camp hearing the news of Lazarus. I would’ve assumped that Jesus wanted to  go and heal his friend. But Jesus stayed.

This is where my first “but Jesus” would’ve surfaced. I would have said, “but Jesus, don’t you want to go and be with your friend?

I saw this response in Martha who went out to Jesus and said, “but Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Mary had the same statement when she ran to meet Jesus as well.

After meeting with his two friends, Jesus goes on to see where Lazarus had been buried. Jesus then instructed the people to roll away the stone. Immediately, Martha chimed in with, “but Jesus…” Her logic kicked in and the questions came out.

While I read this story, I caught a glimpse of my own heart. Right now there is a stone that has been rolled in front of it. I have protected wounds and tight knit trust held close to me. Behind that stone are my fears and insecurities that keep me in grave clothes. God is asking me to roll away the stone.

Everything in me immediately responds with, “but God….I have all of this stuff, and you…you don’t really know what you’re asking!

Martha worried about the smell, but I worry about the conditions.

Even now, I hear his response of gentleness as he says, “but Traceedid I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?

In the end of the story with Lazarus, they took away the stone. I have the same choice to make. I have the choice to believe God is who he says he is. I have the choice to believe and see the glory of God come to life in me.

What might your but’s be for God?

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