Confession: I don't like to write blogs when I don't feel like I have something of value to say. When I don't feel a major epiphany or breakthrough or piece of insight has been given to me. Most of the time that's probably a good thing, but there's consistency that comes through the mundane. Relax, I'm not going to start detailing how I finally got my water heater to work.
Confession #2: I'm drinking coffee again. In limited doses. But I figured staying awake at work was important.
Ok, so to the lesson part.
My intern, Tara, just wrote a blogpost based on what she's learning from the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand. This is the same passage we covered on Sunday at International Church as we took communion and reflected on Christ's sacrifice for us and the life He has given us. All that simply to admit that I just wasn't feeling very connected or feed or like God was really showing me as many answers as I would like. And then the little lesson of this weekend came together and I gained a new perspective on that story. What if Christ had sent the people away earlier knowing that they would get hungry? But in his wisdom and sovereignty he allowed them to get hungry in a place where there were no "reasonable" options for food. He knew. He had a plan. And His plan was good. His plan displayed his glory. But my guess is that when their stomachs started to grumble, the disciples probably just wanted some food.
At some point this weekend, I was struck with how in this period of waiting and struggling to wait and getting frustrated in the waiting and knowing I need to just wait, how much I have been able to appreciate people and things in ways that I wouldn't have if life hadn't ever gotten just a little bit challenging.
Point in case, my mom's friend from high school sent me a really encouraging note. Completely random, but perfectly timed. (Thanks, Mrs. Monty!) How cool is it that God can use someone I've never met, and her experiences long before I knew her, to work here and now in me!
Or how incredible a friend do I have in B who pushes me and challenges me and encourages me (and makes dumb jokes when I'm trying to complain...)? I wouldn't have fully appreciated that friendship, and how God has just blessed it, if I didn't ever have tough situations that I couldn't make sense of myself.
In case you didn't know, I like hard things. I really like hard things. I find myself, all too often, trying to prove to myself my ability to handle inhuman feats. I try to prove this to my friends and their responses tend to be along these lines, "No Emily, you can't be the ocean." or "Emily, you are human. Humans require sleep and food. Both of them."
Anyways, the point I'm trying to make is that weakness not only allows us to see God's strength displayed and exhibited. It also allows us to see his power and his presence and his faithfulness.
The title of this post is taken from "Blessings," a new song written by Laura Story. I'll attach the video links to the background story and the actual song in a follow-up post, but the lyrics go like this:
We pray for blessings, We pray for peace,
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep.
We pray for healing, prosperity,
We pray for your mighty hand to ease our suffering.
All the while you hear each spoken need,
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things.
Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops,
What if your hearing comes through tears,
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you're near.
And what if trials of this life are your mercies in disguise?
We pray for wisdom, your voice to hear.
We cry in anger we cannot feel your near.
We doubt your goodness, we doubt your love
As if every promise from your word is not enough.
And all the while you hear each desperate plea,
And long that we'd have faith to believe.
Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops,
What if your healing comes through tears,
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you're near?
And what if trials of this life are your mercies in disguise?
When friends betray us, when darkness seems to win,
We know that pain reminds this heart that this is not,
This is not our home, It's not our home.
Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops,
What if your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you're near?
What if my greatest disappointments or the aching of this life
Are the revealing of a greater thirst that this life can't satisfy?
What if trials of this life, the rain, the storms, the hardest nights, are your mercies in disguise?
"This is what the LORD says: "When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place. 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 a hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile." Jer. 29:10-14
I heard Mark Driscoll preach a sermon a while back that talked about our unanswered prayers. The point was that we pray with the intention of moving the hand of God, but his intent for prayer is to mold our hearts. This part really stood out to me, "And maybe you will see as you pray that things don't change and people don't change. But you do. All of sudden you become, in character, increasingly more like God. You can't say this prayer didn't work because things didn't change and they didn't change. And God says, 'I love you. And it did work. And I wanted you to keep praying because I wanted you to change."
So here's to the changes that happen while we wait for the changes we want.
Much love,
Redeemed
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