Over the past several weeks, I have been reading a slew of books in preparation for a new role at our church. This act of reading these powerful books about counseling, change, redemption, mercy, ministry, has rekindled and reminded me of things that I have let fall to the wayside over the last couple of years. Yet, the very act of this reading also reinforced what I have found to be true in my relationship with the Lord over the last couple of years—that I would seek Him, hear Him, and see Him through the things He has put before me to do as well as through the people around me. To agree to this new role was also an agreement and step of faith to commit to more. Commit to more doing in a life that has been full of doing lately; commit to more in what I am doing already through the ways He would choose to open my eyes and work through these feeble hands of mine.
These very books also talked about a common theme—that we are created to be interpreters. We ask questions of ourselves and others in an attempt to understand and make sense of this life. This mode of interpretation is an active one, that as we live, we would question—not just in an attempt of raising questions that may be without answer—but in a search for deeper understanding and meaning. You likely personally have had the experience of sitting across from another in conversation, exchanging questions until one is asked that takes you a bit by surprise. It is insightful and it probes deeper to the core that we all wish to be known well in, and it coerces further interpretation and subsequently, understanding. As I think about what these impactful questions have in common, I would say they are questions that remind us of two things: we are part of a larger narrative, much larger than our daily, monthly, and yearly personal experiences; and in that narrative, there is One who calls deeply to our souls, whether we hear Him or not.
This city provides no shortage of opportunities for interpretation. Simultaneously, the becoming and being of an adult raises many questions as we observe and do. Due to this city being the place that John and I more or less started our married and adult lives together in, it can be hard to separate the two to understand—is this about the city that we see and question, seeking to interpret? Or is this simply about the process of adulthood that is universal, regardless of place? There’s an effort to contextualize—that while we fully understand God is God in every place—we want to understand in greater measure, how is God being God here, in this place, in this life, in my moments? While as much as we are interpreters, we are also created for relationship, and through the grace and mercy of God, we can have this relationship with Him because of Jesus. He steps into our past, present, and future, helping us to interpret while reminding and showing us the larger narrative.
I’ve had a form of writer’s block for a while—probably as a result of excessive "doing." I have been so active in the doing, and in the process, seeking to contextualize and interpret. So, through my daily moments of work, I am reminded of how the Lord provides and the need to risk and trust as He will meet us there. As I cook, I am reminded of His creativity and oversight as on this earth, He has created what we need to be nourished and satisfied. As I serve, I am reminded of how He is a servant, pouring Himself out for the benefit of others. As I listen, I am reminded of my need for grace and the need to extend it, grace that has been given freely to us by the Lord. As I live in community with my husband and others, I am reminded of how we are each fearfully and wonderfully made, yet in need of redemption and sanctification, and the Lord has given us to one another for that very process. As I live in this city and walk its streets, I am reminded of the contrast of both the glory that man can produce and the intense suffering manifested as the result of the individual and our world’s brokenness. Daily, through all of these things, there is the recurrence of gratitude, yet simultaneously, a plea for mercy. The Lord is faithful and He is good; yet this broken world is far from what it should be, and we as believers are to be the very presence of the Lord in His manifestation of mercy and goodness. This is often a lofty calling, as though we are redeemed, we are still in need of the very mercy we seek to pour out.
The list can continue—daily, the Lord is present through circumstances He allows and ordains. Daily, there are opportunities to interpret each, with the aim of seeing how this plays out in the larger narrative of God in creation, mankind in its fall, Jesus in our salvation, and the Holy Spirit in our sanctification—and what that means to each of us personally.
Yet, as I sat still this weekend as a result of a near month-long lingering sickness, I was still enough to hear. The drawback to interpretation is that it is often an active one of probing, not a reactive one of listening. Coupled with a life filled with doing, I limit what I can hear based on what the Lord might speak through what I am already doing, not apart from it. So, I listened.
What I felt Him impressing upon me most then as I sat there with Him is to regard Him for who He is—strong, holy, almighty—and to not forget that. That the awe and reverence for Him, simply because of who He IS would be dominant in my life rather than only reverence created because of how He works in our lives through an intertwined story line. That instead of further understanding of context and moments, that I might know Him more and in further depths. That I would pursue Him and invest in Him—for the sake of only that. To trust that as I seek Him outside of circumstances, the understanding and means needed for those very things will come in His own time and ways, not the result of my active hands attempting to do. He is God apart from all other and any other, always and though He is intertwined within our world. There is a need for me to live within that reverence…of Him and Only Him.
Back in the days where Jesus was new and lovely to me, there was a song that moved me to my core. As I revisit it, I see that it’s because it is pure in its essence—of simply regarding the Lord in His glory. It is more than enough. He alone is more than enough.
I see the Lord
Seated on the throne, exalted
And the train of His robe
Fills the temple with His glory
And the whole earth is filled
And the whole earth is filled
And the whole earth is filled
With his glory.
Holy, Holy, Holy, Holy
Holy is the Lord
Holy, Holy, Holy, Holy
Holy is the Lord.
That needs no interpretation, only reverence—the whole earth is filled with His glory. Holy, holy, holy, holy, is the Lord.