Sunday, February 21, 2010

The Solid Rock


Solitude can go one of two ways.

Solitude can be holy (even painfully holy). It can be a secluded inner space of stillness and reflection; a time of confession and deep, thorough change.

Solitude can also be selfish and poisonous. It can center on a desire to hide and be hidden; to shut God and others out and be given over to your sin.

I guess the first would be called Solitude....

The second would be called Bondage.

I've been stuck somewhere in between Solitude and Bondage.

Some days I am so aware of the solitude that consumes me; it is holy and I am filled with reverence.

But there have been dark days too. Days that I am hiding and giving in to the lies that keep brushing their sticky little fingers all over my heart.

Today I woke up dark.

I told Joe that I was going to stay home from church and be alone. I just wanted to escape... something. I don't even know what I'm running from really. But I do know that I really just felt too fat to be seen in public. And that is what was keeping me from church with my family.

As Joe and the kids were walking out the door the Spirit gripped me and I knew I had to break out of the darkness and just go with them. So, at the last minute I went to church.

Sure enough, God had something profound waiting for me.

This message was almost certainly spoken to me alone.

The story was about Hannah (1 Samuel). She was the 2nd wife of a man named Elkanah. Elkanah's other wife had lots of children and Hannah had none. But Elkanah loved Hannah and showed her favoritism. The first wife hated Hannah for this and used every opportunity to mock Hannah. She was a rejected woman who projected her hurt on the other woman in her husband's life.

Having a son wasn't just a satisfying thing for a woman in those days, it was security. When Hannah was old her son would provide for her - making sure she had a home and food to eat. He would be her security. It was also a social requirement. The more sons a woman had the more she contributed to the army, which made her a blessed woman.

Again, Hannah had no children. Not one.

When Elkanah took his family to Jerusalem to celebrate and give an offering to the Lord Hannah was so distraught she could not even eat. Her husband was clueless and couldn't understand why HE wasn't enough for Hannah. So she pulled herself together and went to the Temple to cry out to God.

Hannah was so passionate in her heart's cry that she wept and her lips moved although she made no sounds.

When Eli the Priest saw her he assumed she was drunk and admonished her for coming to the Temple while intoxicated. But Hannah explained that she was a woman in distress and was pouring out her heart to God.

Eli blessed her and said, "Go and peace and may the God of Israel give you what you have asked of him."

She went back to her husband, ate heartily and her face was radiant.

She wasn't magically pregnant. There was no promise of a baby. There was only the blessing of a Priest... only "I hope you get what you want."

But something changed for Hannah. She went away with a full appetite and a radiant face.

And she DID eventually have a baby. A son. A man who would become the same prophet to rule Israel before they demanded a King.

He would anoint a shepherd named David. He would hear God call his name when he was only a boy.

Her prayers were answered.

The speaker compared Hannah's social pressure to the pressure placed on women in our culture. Not a pressure of having babies, but of being outwardly perfect. He spoke to the insane amount of visual expectation placed on every woman in our nation. If a woman doesn't have sex appeal, she has nothing. The value of a woman is placed on her body and her face.

And there is the darkness. There is the hiding place I have been cowering in. Called to light in one almost skipped message.

He goes on to say that sometimes our desires can become our idols. The things we are crying out for can become the shifting sand we stand on.

But ...

On Christ the solid rock I stand... all other ground is sinking sand.

If we are rooted on the rock of Jesus we can cry out, processing our grief and desire before the throne of God. We can wrestle and strain before him. We can beg him to hear us and answer!

And all that shifting sand on every side will have no effect. We will not sink because we are not rooted on idols.

Here it is. My sinking sand is my husband.

I keep praying, hoping, expecting him to change. To turn and LOVE me. To respect me.

And this man is wrestling with God. He is always always always crying out. But sometimes he stands on shifting sand. And if I stand on him, I will sink too.

If he never changes there will always be dark days. There will always be times of immense sadness and rejection. I will live parts of my life in sorrow.

But if I stand on Jesus, I will never be consumed. I will always stay afloat.

Will it change how I see myself? Will I go away with a full appetite and a radiant face?

Oh Jesus, I hope so.

All I know is that, for today, Jesus has called me out of darkness. I've stepped a single foot into some brilliant light.

So, for today, I can exhale. Like Hannah, I am free to pour my anguished soul out. And like Hannah, God WILL hear me.

2 comments:

Shannon said...

i didnt want to go to church today either... but i'm glad my brother called and compelled me to go. something out of the ordinary, certainly. my brother doesnt regularly attend any church himself. but either way... i find each time i make myself go, i always get something from it. god has been speaking to me again, in the still small voice inside my heart. it feels good to know he hasnt forgotten me. or given up on me.

i know what you mean about the place between solitude and bondage. and trying to hide from something. i am also beginning to see what i am running from, and what i am searching for. and that it will never be found in any man. no matter how good he is. there is no one like our God. and there is no one to make me feel loved and loveable and accepted like he can and does.

stephanie moors said...

love you sister