He of Whom Prophets Had Spoken

The Father cried tears
The Son's heart was broken
Yes, this was He
Of whom prophets had spoken

The Lamb on a cross
The God on a tree
The King crowned with thorns
In shame and glory

What love there displayed!
What justice was done
When God, in pain
Gave His only Son

Darkness surrounds Him
Bruised, bloody, naked
He cries in the silence
"Why have You forsaken?"

His question resounds
In my quivering heart
Breathless, I listen
Then it pierces the dark:

"It is finished!" His voice
Shakes me, and the earth
Convulses and mourns
As He suffers the curse

We fall to the ground
In terror and wonder
I tremble to watch
The Trinity sundered

Who is this God?
This God on a tree
It should have been me
It should have been me

For I slapped Him and scorned Him
I mocked Him that day
Yet, "Father, forgive them"
Was all He would say

The tears of the Father
Break into my soul
I look to my Savior
Shattered, made whole

He saved me by grace
Conquered death by His love
He is risen, and now
Interceding above

Forget not this story
It cost God His life
Remember His love
Remember the price

The Father cried tears
The Son's heart was broken
Yes, this was He
Of whom prophets had spoken.

July 5, 2014

Morning Cry

In Your mercy, O Lord, hear my cry. You alone search the mind and test the heart. I'm coming to You because I have nothing—no wisdom, no strength, no righteousness, no love—nothing of my own. I realize my utter dependence on You. You know the turmoil in my mind, the battle with my thoughts, the weakness of my heart. Deliver me from myself. I give You permission to save me at any cost. 

I'm casting myself—broken, bruised, battered—at the foot of the cross. 

I'm tired of fighting, Lord. 

Yet when I behold the Lamb of God—broken, bruised, battered—I'm reminded that the battle is the Lord's. The victory is won. 

But at no small price.

God hung on a tree. God was sundered,

                                                                                   torn      apart,

                                                                                                                 forsaken. 

God died…and paid the eternal consequence

for me.

I'm letting it sink in.

Love has won the victory                            

…in my heart.

"I will go in the strength of the Lord GOD; I will make mention of Your righteousness, of Yours only"

(Psalm 71:16 NKJV)

Thank You, Father.

In the precious name of Your Son, Jesus.

Amen

A Soldier's Prayer

+Sean Nebblett recently wrote a blog post (please read it before continuing on; this will make more sense if you do), and it inspired me to share this poem with you. It's an old poem, but the message remains relevant. The prayer stays the same. It always will, until that glorious day...

May we never stop fighting. We will somehow win. Though it seems all the odds are against us, and we have not the strength...

God does.

May we be freed from the enemy within, so that we may focus on the mission...

There are crosses that need to be planted.

___________________________________________

January 22, 2011

Lord, I'm tired of it all,
tired of fighting, of taking
a few steps, but then fall;
It's not just the old ones,
but the young soldiers too;
At least this one,
she's one of the few
who to her comrades may appear
to hold nothing in life
'cept Your mission dear.

But it's a lie.

Now don't get me wrong --
To die for that mission,
she enlisted, with strong
resolve to complete.
To go forward
To forsake all for the call
and count all but loss
no matter the cost.

But in the thick of battle
resolve starts to break.
When the mighty foe presses in,
how much more can she take?

I have not the strength
To meet the strength
of the attacks
To return blow for blow
I'm being pushed back

Who is this foe?
Who makes the attack?
from within.

It is me. My self.

And I
hold Your mission dear.
This soldier, her focus clear
at times. But the enemy
Has infiltrated
Has betrayed
Has battled
Has blurred
Made dear to her these things else:
pride, desire, temptation --
The chains of self.

I have not the strength
To shake off these chains.
But I will try again
I will fight again
I will somehow win

And You say:
"Will you stop living a lie?
Yes, you must try again.
Yes, you must fight again.
Yes, you will somehow win.
But not with those chains on.
It is My mission or those,
what will you choose?

"The choice is yours
But you have not the strength."

This soldier has not the strength to battle at all
She takes a few steps, but then falls.
She holds dear the chains
She holds dear Your mission
She fights with confusion.
She cannot see
But she will go forward
Forsake all for the call
Count all but loss
No matter the cost.

I have not the strength
But You are my Strength
Break the chains
Return the blows
Push self back
Press the attack

I will somehow win.

The Next 22.5 Weeks: Part 2

"How is the Philippines?"
"Good."
"..."

Well, here is the post you have all been waiting for. Everyone has been asking, and I've been saying "good" for too long now. Here is my real answer; are you ready for this?

*deep breath*

Hot, humid, green, busy, pollution, traffic, jeepnies, flip-flops, Tagalog, family, sunshine, poor, rich, cement houses, food, Catholic, tricycles, canteens (little cafeteria shops), ethnic, Asian, billboards and signs all over (with everyone and their grandma's picture on everything they can get it on), dirty, palm-trees, mountains, loud, music (getting so tired of "Gangnam Style" wherever I go), cellphones, food (did I say that already?), sweet food, salty food, snacks, cheap spas, cheap massages, cheap everything, fruit (sorry, that's food too), mangoes, lack of toilet paper, dirty bathrooms, dogs in cages, "ma'am/sir" echoing from all sides, mangoes.

Yes, I like mangoes.
Especially the Philippine mango, fresh and cheap, every. single. day.
Oh, and rice. Better not forget that.

Can't, really.

But you know what? Some of the above may seem a bit foreign and annoying (no doubt it is) but that almost comprehensive, descriptive list is more than just a list. It's more than just my experience so far, and it's more than what life is for the next 22 weeks.

What makes that list is carving itself into my heart.

What makes that list?

People
in a beautiful place
called the Philippines.

Yes, it is beautiful. In spite of the run down tricycles, the lack of garbage cans (that should have been in the list), the crowded streets and malls and everywhere, the poor houses (shacks), the messy everything...

It's beautiful. Not those things in and of themselves. But those things represent real people and real lives and real souls.

Even I am not sure how the Philippines could be growing in my heart in spite of the foreignness (I didn't know that was a word) and inconvenience of being a North American SDA young woman who looks like and is a Filipina but can't speak Filipino in the Philippines.

But it is. Why?

God wants me here.

Anywhere is beautiful if it's where God wants you to be.

I pray that...

whenever I feel like I don't want to be here,
.........I will remember that God wants me to be here.

whenever I feel small and inexperienced,
.........I will remember that God is big and infinitely experienced (understatement).

whenever I feel tired,
.........I will remember that God "never slumbers."

whenever I make a mistake,
.........I will remember that all things work together for good, for them who love God...

...and who are the called according to His purpose.

So then, what is His purpose for me? That, my friends, is answered on a moment by moment basis (other than the grand, overarching purpose of reconciling the world to God, who is Love, by lifting up the cross).

But, what it looks like might be His purpose for me is something like this. If you'd like more details, don't hesitate to ask.

1. Be a positive influence, encouragement, and help in my family, in many ways. (My lola [great-grandma] lives with us, and my grandma is battling cancer).
2. Be involved at my grandparents' school teaching violin etc.
3. Be involved with an Adventist family whose kids play violin, in their music and health evangelism ministries.
4. Orchestrate music part time for Fountainview Academy.
5. Go on a mission trip with my home church (from Canada) to the mountains of the Philippines.
6. Be involved with the local church and boarding school.
7. Continue reading and studying and memorizing and utilizing what I learned at ARISE.

All in all, I am just waiting to see how God leads each day, so that He can use me to be a blessing in whatever I do. I've been getting over a cold for about a week now, so since my parents left last week, not too much has happened yet. But now, life is about to get rolling...

Dear Father in Heaven,

Help me to remember that these people in this place called the Philippines are beautiful. They are beautiful to You; let them never cease to be beautiful to me. Help me help them. Reveal to them greater and deeper pictures of Your character and love through me. I am a weak and small vessel, but You are strong and great. The vessel is right-side up: please fill me, for You promised. Fill me with Your Spirit and with Your love. Let the next 22 weeks (and beyond) be fully and entirely Yours.

In Jesus' precious name,

Amen.

Broken

Dear Father in Heaven,

Last Wednesday was a day full of experiences. You taught me so much, Lord, and in spite of the necessary pain, I believe it was my best day at ARISE. I went to bed with my heart full and grateful.

It was early morning, and I was preparing for the preaching practicum. It was hard; the message just didn't feel right. Kneeling there, in the darkness of the classroom, I pleaded that You would take it and do whatever You needed to. Then it underwent major surgery. This is what I had been waiting for! The message seemed clearer, concise, and better than anything I had prepared before. Yet there was still one thing… 

During my preparation, I prayed specifically that You would make me humble and do the speaking through me. You reminded me that living the message was most important, so I prayed that You would put it in my heart and enable me to live the message as I shared it. I left the room confident that it would be according to Your will.

Breakfast came and went. The moment slowly approached. 1, 2, 3… 7 sermons preached and critiqued. Then, it was my turn. Sending up a prayer, I walked up to the front, and when the 10 minute timer started, I launched in.

That was probably the worst sermon I have ever preached. 

The content was good, but that was about it. David said that he had expected a 10 from me and got a 7; he was disappointed. Some parts were not clear enough. Most importantly, I needed to spice it up and throw my weight into it—because he didn't believe me. He only believed I was sincere after knowing me for 4 months, but anyone else couldn't have believed me. He knew there was some enthusiasm lurking in me somewhere; he had seen it before. 

Content: solid. Delivery: passable. 

What David didn't know was that I had been intending to make it more relevant to our class. I had been intending to write on the board the very points he said he missed. But it all went down the drain.

After more critical remarks from David, Jeffrey added his two cents (which wasn't very much at all). I felt like the man in the Operation game—and it hurt! But I saw my weakness in speaking and took the pointers bravely. I knew it would help me in the future. 

As I sat down, however, I found it hard to pay attention to the rest of the sermons. I began to question why it hadn't gone well. Why couldn't David believe me? In silent prayer, I realized that I hadn't been passionate about the message. Of course the audience couldn't believe me.

But why wasn't I passionate about the message? The very message itself, which was "Lift up Christ, lift up Christ. He must increase, and I must decrease"—this message was not active in my heart. I was a complete hypocrite. I had fooled myself into thinking I was trusting God, when I had been trusting myself. Then I remembered my prayer that morning: "Lord, please make me humble." Ironically, You knew this was the only way to answer it. You showed me what was inside myself. You made me fall upon the Rock and be broken.

I realized that I had been holding You back by my pride. You couldn't use me to the fullest extent because I would have trusted myself, instead of You. I had fooled myself for so long, thinking I was trusting You when I really wasn't.

It reminds me of what I read in Jeremiah 17. There is the man "who trusts in man, and makes flesh his strength, whose heart departs from the LORD" (vs. 5). Then there is the man "who trusts in the LORD, and whose hope is the LORD" (vs. 7). The first is cursed, the second blessed. But then it reads, "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked…" (vs. 9). I had deceived myself into thinking I trusted in You, when I actually trusted in myself. God alone searches the heart and tests the mind, and He knows better than we the extent of our self-trust.

Before, my spiritual walk had been locked; it wasn't going anywhere very quickly. But when You let me fall on the Rock, it unlocked the barrier of my pride, and my relationship with You was freed. You brought me to my knees at the cross, and I beheld the Lamb of God anew. This broke me further still. Though I deserved nothing, You declared me worth everything, including Your own life; and still I had been blind and selfish enough to put myself in front of the cross. How could I do such a thing? Yet in the cross, You promised me freedom—freedom from this thing called self and this enemy called pride, which I hated and feared. But You told me to fear no more. Christ won the victory. I have no need to fear the enemy within.

You tried to teach me this before, but You had to wait until this opportunity to stop me in my selfish tracks and humble me before the cross. It was the wrong message, and it lacked the right heart; therefore, it cost me the chance to share a last, meaningful message with my class. But You knew that was what it would take to break me. Though it hurt, I thank You. I can honestly look back and say the cost was worth it. And that's exactly what You said on the cross as You thought of me—selfish, prideful me. You said I was worth it! What wondrous love is this!

Later that day, as I savoured our last classes and visited our contacts for the last time, I rejoiced that You were able to speak to my heart and through my mouth in deeper ways than before. 

I just needed to be broken first.

I'm sorry it took so long. Let me never forget. 

Thank You, Father.

In Jesus' precious name,

Amen.