Standing on the edge of a cliff

Have you ever felt like you were teetering on the brink of something huge? I know that’s a cliched expression, but it describes what I’m feeling well.

I’m standing at the edge of a cliff. I can feel the wind blowing against me–my hair is flying, my skirt pasted to my legs. I reach my foot forward just an inch and I can feel the sand move beneath my touch. When I listen closely, I can hear the sand rattling down the cliffside. If I take one more step, I will jump off the cliff. There will be no return. If I stand still, erosion will take me down the side within hours. I can’t move backwards, there’s nowhere else to go. I must move forward or remain still–either way, my future is uncertain. I am blindfolded. I can sense the change that is taking place, but I can’t see. I don’t know what lies at the bottom of the great avalanche I will soon find myself within. Then a bird twitters and I know for certain–whatever else may lie at the bottom, life is there–and I am at rest.

My church’s pastor resigned publicly this Sunday. He will remain as Senior Pastor until the end of the year, but that entire time will be one of great transition for our church. So much is unknown–who our next senior pastor will be, what that will mean to the congregation; how various ministries will change, where God will take us in fulfilling His vision. I’m a ministry leader–coordinating the Nursery. I’m a youth sponsor–how will this effect them in the long run? It’s too early to know, but I sense that the impact will be great. So much change, what will it all mean? I only know one thing–that He who began a good work in us will be faithful to complete it.

God’s been convicting me a lot lately about my priorities. We did an exercise in Home Group on Sunday–compared our listed “priorities” to the time we actually spend pursuing those things. Our topic was the cost of discipleship. The cost of discipleship has been slowly taking on a new meaning for me. What is to be my priority? God’s glory. What does that mean? For right now, spending time in the Word, putting priority on my schoolwork, letting some priority shift from church work to Nav fellowship.

My sister will be moving home next year–I’ll be on my own at the hall next year. I’m a bit apprehensive. I’ve spent the last 20 years of my life sharing almost everything with Anna. We were roommates for 17 years–even now, with my own room in the hall, Anna and I visit in my room several times a day. She’s my best friend. We read in the crack of the door together when we were in second and third grades. A year later we thought we would trade homework for the day. The envelope I drew on a piece of paper didn’t quite satisfy the instructions to “address an envelope” to such and such a person. As we grew, the distance between us shrunk and we took Chemistry together in high school. Our majors are similar, despite our differing career goals. We’re even taking Anatomy together this semester. But God is preparing me for whatever He has for me–
and He’s preparing Anna for the next step in her dream of doing humanitarian aid. She’ll graduate next year and leave for Med School. She’s frantic with tests and thoughts of applications. And every change for her means change for me.

These three things are but a sampling of the cliff I’m standing on. Learning to be content with resting is tough for me. Resting in the midst of this turmoil is almost impossible. But I want my cry to be like Paul’s when he said: “But what things were gain to me, these I have counted loss for Christ. Yet indeed I also count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord…that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having my own righteousness, which is from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is from God by faith; that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death.” Whatever the change, He is the bird whistling in my ear: “I will never leave you or forsake you. I have good plans for you. Enter into the adventure I have in store for you.”


“And on the seventh day God ended His work which He had done, and He rested on the seventh day from all His work which He had done. Then God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, because in it He rested from all His work which God had created and made.” (Genesis 2:2-3)

“See! For the Lord has given you the Sabbath; therefore He gives you on the sixth day bread for two days. Let every man remain in his place…So the people rested on the seventh day.” (Exodus 16:29-30)

“There remains therefore a rest for the people of God. For he who has entered His rest has himself also ceased from his works as God did from His.” (Hebrews 4:9-10)

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)

Why do I find rest to be such an elusive thing? God created it; He commands it; He equips us for it. So why do I rebel against rest?

In order to truly rest, I must learn to truly trust God. As long as I go on believing that I have the answers and that I must have my hand in every pot, I will never learn to rest. Until I come to see my contributions as worthless, I will never learn to rest. As long as I think I’m strong, I will never learn to rest. Instead I will charge ahead–thinking that my input is necessary.

In reality, God doesn’t need me. No one else needs me. If I weren’t here, the earth would continue to spin. The church would continue on. Love Memorial Hall would make it through. Sunday School material would be found somehow; the Nursery would be run somehow; the Middle School girls would somehow make it through; the FoodNet would still get done. They don’t need me.

Until I come to see the worthlessness of my flesh and my utter dependence on God, I will never rest and nothing will ever be accomplished through my life. My righteousness is but filthy rags, my striving is for nothing, my serving is only a distraction. It is in my weakness, rather, that Christ is made manifest in my life.

So, I must die to myself–recognizing that in my flesh dwells no good thing. I must recognize the great power of God available to every believer–without my help. I must take God at His ord–and rest. And what a rest that is. For when I rest and in my weakness die to my flesh, God’s power is made manifest through my life. And I am most satisfied when God is most glorified.

My Grace is Sufficient

The Scripture that never ceases to be on my mind: “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” (II Corinthians 12:9)

A test is coming up–“My grace is sufficient…for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” I wonder whether that means I’ll fail in order to display my weakness, or pass in order to show God’s strength. I learn something I never wanted to know. Is it a test? Is it temptation? I want to know. “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”

The problem with my questions is simple–Isaiah 55:8-9 says, “For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,” says the Lord. “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts.” I cannot know the mind or purposes of God in the minute details I wish I knew. All I can know is the great mystery–God choosing to use my weakness to accomplish His glory.

I went on a whim to GreekSide last night. Chase Pettis said something that resonated with me. He mentioned the apparent contradiction in Psalm 43:3-5. The Psalmist starts off saying that God’s presence is his greatest delight–then turns around to say, “Why are you cast down, O my soul?” Chase said he identified with this passage as being part of the human condition–knowledge reaching from head to heart. I identify too.

Too often, this is the story of my life. Even this morning, I struggle with the paradox. I know that God is perfecting His plan in my life–but I fear to step out in obedience. I know that God will never allow me a temptation I can’t andle–but I despair in my situations. I can feel so close to God, but still a part of me resists His dwelling place. “Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall yet praise Him, the help of my countenance and my God.”

Such an easy answer, yet so hard. Hope in God. Hope in God. What is hope? It is looking past the circumstances at the one great goal. It is seeing beyond the darkness and looking to the Light of the World. It is not giving in to despair, but seeing Christ as above all. Hope is recognizing who God is and placing your trust in Him.

“Why are you cast down, O my soul?…Hope in God.”

Teach me to hope, moment by moment.


I have some serious thinking to do. The Key Laborers Retreat I didn’t attend impacted my life greatly. The speaker talked about how any goal other than Christ’s glory is an idol. Talk about immediate conviction. As my small group shared their thoughts and recollections, I was struck to the heart. I do so many things–so many good things–but all too often, my goal is to fulfill myself or to “do something for God” rather than to truly worship God with all I do.

That was Wednesday afternoon. Wednesday night after Z-360 (the youth group I sponsor for), Jason (the youth pastor I serve under) approached me. He shared that he felt like God was telling me to slow down, focus–gave me a few sheets of questions and Scriptures he thought God wanted him to share with me. I got home and studied them–ouch. Martha and Mary–how long must I study those passages before I learn something? Luke 10:40 says, “But Martha was distracted with much service.” Ouch. How often am I distracted by all my service? Z-360, Nursery, Food Net, Sunday School, Discipling and being discipled–Driven to make something happen; forgetting to sit at Christ’s feet. Jesus’ response is so fitting, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.” In reality, my service is filthy rags–it will be destroyed. Yet there is one thing that will not destroyed, and that is what is done in Christ. Lord, give me the grace to not be distracted with much serving and rather to sit at your feet.