God's Unsearchable Ways

     About twenty five years ago, I drove up to a massive church building in Jackson, MS, where I began training in Evangelism Explosion. I’d been a Christian for about a year and wanted to learn how to share the Gospel with friends and family. I still remember the small perforated note cards that I tore apart, put on a ring and carried with me for the next six months. The same note cards traveled with us in various boxes and drawers through all our moves over the past eighteen years. Often, the only time I looked at them was when I was rummaging around for something else.
     Last year, I came across them again but in a uniquely different way. Since we didn’t bring any of our belongings with us when we moved to Korea, the note cards were left behind in some unmarked box in our storage room. God was giving me a newfound desire to share the Gospel with my students, so I spent time searching the internet for presentations that were in both English and Korean. That’s when I stumbled across the Evangelism Explosion website, wrote a note to someone asking for more  information and received my very first copy of the presentation in Korean!
     Just last week, as we were finishing up the semester, I pulled out my computer copy of EE and passed around the Gospel to the students in their own language. After sharing in my classes, it dawned on me that God doesn’t waste anything. The training I received so long ago and had almost forgotten became a useful tool in a country I never dreamed I’d be living in. But God knew. He knew when he led me to that first class in Mississippi that I would one day share the same message in Asia.
     I'm astounded by God's wisdom and sovereignty in orchestrating situations like these. It gives me great comfort as I look at other seemingly forgotten endeavors I’ve stuffed in a drawer somewhere. If God doesn’t waste anything, then I can count on him to use these life experiences in ways I could never have imagined.  I can trust that even though I have no idea what my future holds, I belong to a God who is able to masterfully put together bits and pieces from my past and make them into something beautiful to bless others in the present.

“Oh, how great are God's riches and wisdom and knowledge! How impossible it is for us to understand his decisions and his ways!” Rom 11:33

 

 

Up from the Ashes

     I've never lost a home to a fire, but I’ve witnessed my grandmother's possessions burn to the ground leaving almost nothing behind. All those years of stored memories and treasures were gone in an instant; their charred remains lay unrecognizable on the ground. As my family stood helplessly by wondering how they could surmount such a loss, I was confident that over time, with God’s help, they would find healing and renewal.
     That hope, or certainty, that God will step in and restore what’s been lost is what propels me on each day as I wake up in a place that’s not my home with an ache for our daughter who is thousands of miles away. As our older daughter, who is now a senior, dashes about trying to get out the door in time for school, I’m reminded that she too will be off to college soon, leaving me with an empty home and heart. As these scenarios play out in my mind, it’s only through God’s promises that I find comfort and understanding. God is good and overflowing with compassion. I believe that with all my heart. I know that He looks upon my losses with tenderness, but the house continues to burn. So I struggle to make sense of it; I wrestle to merge the reality of life’s disappointments with his promises.
        At the moment, I’m standing outside looking up at the smoke, watching much of what I’ve worked for seemingly disappear into nothing.  The fumes burn my eyes as I strain to assess what’s salvageable. I see remnants of memories scorched by the fire, too damaged to keep but still reminding me of life in that place we once called family. I can’t sit here forever. God is calling me to come, to rise up from the ashes and to follow him, my husband and my daughters as they continue on their faith journey.
     The sun shines brilliantly over the horizon as I finally pick up my suitcases and turn to follow. Mark keeps calling and motioning for me to come; I hear the girls’ laughter and see their dancing figures ahead. With each step the air becomes fresher, clearer. The dread that held me back gives way to a sense of courage as I look upon the beauty and freedom in the distance.  On the ground just beneath my feet tiny flowers are starting to bloom. Tips of pink, yellow and violet peek from under their dusty brown covering, promising new life. I glance at the sunshine sparkling on the water and the trees peacefully swaying in the wind, then back down at the delicate buds on the verge of something miraculous. God reminds me that he’s got a good plan for my future, one I didn’t see or understand, but one filled with meaning and purpose. Hope is calling me up from the ashes-- not to forget the past, but to turn my gaze upon his promises so that I can be fully alive in the present and future -- free to build new memories and experience his joyful restoration.

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jer 29:11

Freedom Comes in Letting Go

This is one of my favorite lines from J.J. Heller’s new song Loved. She’s singing about releasing hurt and pain and embracing the reality that we’re extravagantly loved by God in Christ. Knowing God’s love is the only catalyst that can motivate us to truly let go of hurt and ironically it’s only as we surrender our hurts to him that we can fully experience the depth of his love for us. Yet some trauma penetrates so deeply into the recesses of our souls that it almost refuses to budge. Like a cancerous growth, it zaps more and more of our strength and energy and leaves us feeling less than whole.

I’ve experienced this kind of trauma as a child and left it buried for almost twelve years. In fact, I’d spent so much energy denying that it happened that the act of finally facing it down, giving the trauma a name and talking about it, was like having open heart surgery. I still remember the first time that I shared my story of being sexually abused with a counselor.  Fear and shame had worked for so long to keep me silent, but God’s love prevailed, giving me the desire to expose the darkness and let the secret out

The healing process was slow, but the more I looked at the truth in light of God’s love and acceptance, the more I was able to move forward in hope that I could be healed. Talking it out, praying and memorizing God’s promises all helped me to see and believe that it was not only over, but that God planned to use it for good if I’d trust him. Letting go of the pain after facing it was a process that involved turning over my abusers to the Lord’s judgment with confidence that they would be held accountable by him, even if no one on the earth besides me knew about what they did. Once I released them, I was finally free to heal.

I thought that living through something that horrible meant I wouldn’t have to experience any further trauma in life.  But I was wrong. I don’t know where I got this idea– it certainly wasn’t from the Bible where God shows mankind often suffering multiple traumatic events in the course of a  lifetime. On center stage, of course, is Jesus who was repeatedly rejected, chased down, finally captured, beaten and crucified. His resurrection is God’s guarantee that while trauma can momentarily defeat us, it ultimately won’t destroy us if we’ve found our hope in him.

Over the course of the past few years I’ve allowed new trauma to stir up fear and shame in my heart once again. And I’ve stuffed so much of it, that until recently I didn’t even know what was wrong except that I felt intense sorrow. Instead of expecting God to do something amazing, I've found myself expecting something terrible to happen, waiting for the bomb to drop any second. Yet, God is encouraging me that no matter how much trauma I’ve endured, he doesn’t want me to live in a state of fear and shame. He’s reminding me that he’s able to bind up my wounds and bring healing regardless of the depth of the scars. He’s the great physician who made it a point to find the most wounded people on earth and touch their lives with his power.

I look at the pain that has recently surfaced in my heart and wonder how it can be healed; he looks at it and knows that he can transform it into abundant blessings. Right now, I’m in the process of letting go of the hurt and asking him to reach down and, by the power of his Spirit, bind up these wounds and bring healing. I’ve seen him do it in remarkable ways before, and I’m confident that he’s going to do it again.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Ps 147:3