tears and hair and messes and meaning

During our recent “excursion” abroad, we not only got to worship with AMAZING people at Hillsong Church, I got to catch up with one of my former students (JR) who left Georgia to attend Hillsong University.  It was a HUGE blessing!

JR had volunteered to help all day before the concert, so we didn’t get a chance to talk until the music started.  During the first half, he and I stood backstage and talked about all God is doing with him, his education, and his ministry.  He returned to his duties during intermission, and during the second half, we were both on the monitor world side of the stage.  I sat with the other spouses and just listened; I mainly watched the crowd, overwhelmed by the sound of so many people from so far from my home worshiping to songs I’d heard as “simple” worship songs for years before God decided they should be on a cd.  I could clearly see faces in the front rows and specifically watched three boys on our side of the first row as they were obviously moved to worship and to tears by God’s love throughout the music.

Then “East to West” began.

A few months ago, while we were preparing and planning for our trip to Alaska, God hit me with the realization that I have a *whole new* understanding of part of the song:

“…I can’t bear to see the man I’ve been

come rising up in me again…”

In the midst of incredibly intense all day morning sickness, I caught a nasty stomach virus. I knew “rising up in me” all too well.  And it made me wonder if I’d ever shuddered over my sin the way I shuddered with those nauseous waves; had I ever fought my pride away with tears the way I fought the surges in my stomach?

The answer was an unfortunate no, I hadn’t.

Despite that very profound analogy, I struggled with near spiritual paralysis (read as, total self-absorbtion) all the way up to our Alaska adventure.  It was like being spiritually paralyzed; I couldn’t pray, I couldn’t seem to “get into” the Word, I often didn’t pick up the Word.  I was completely dry.  Powerless.  It was torture.  And I heard God whisper one night while I choked through a prayer, “I’m still here.”  It was the sweetest, most undeserved blessing I’d recieved.

Until “East to West” at Hillsong.

Hearing the words I’d heard over and over, I prayed, meditated on His Truth, and thought about the “dark night of the soul” I felt was finally beginning to dawn.  And then I looked over at the crowd.

And I saw JR.  Praying over one of those boys in the front row.

The entire crowd was sitting but these two and one of the boys next to them.  Everyone else is glued to the screens and the stage as the boys’ hands are in the air and JR stands with one arm around the boy’s shoulder and one on his head; the boy is sobbing, his friend is praying with eyes closed and arms raised then sits down, and JR continues to pray.  The boy collapses in heaves on JR’s shoulder and JR embraces him, still obviously praying.

Eternity bounded forward as JR loved this boy to the Throne.  After a hug, JR returned to his post and the boy, wiping eyes with his palms and shirt, sat down and sighed.

As I watched the scene unfold, I was blown away.  To see a student whose life I had a little voice in DOING the work of the ministry — unprompted, without reserve, without regard to anyone else — it was humbling and breathtaking and indescribably sweet.  And as the tears began to fall, I heard the LORD

“I’m still moving.”

And I fell completely apart.

Sobbing with my head in my hands because I had given up on being used.  Sobbing because He had already pointed out this winter how very comfortable I have become where we are.  Sobbing because the whole truth was that I was holding back from Him because I know of what He is capable and it scares me.  Sobbing because His love is as strong as His will, and I had run from that, too.

While I intermittently watched JR minister to the boys, my shoulders shook with grief over my sin and I could feel my eyes and nose puff up.  And I suddenly had a whole new understanding for the sobbing woman in Luke 7 –

She brought her entire life’s wealth, annointed Jesus’ feet, and cried only to wipe her tears with her own hair.  Suddenly, I understood her; she didn’t hear their barbs, she didn’t mean to fall apart over Him, she meant to bring Him her very best — only to realize she no real best to give Him.  And in that grief, she cried, giving Him her mess, and in panic, she pulled her hair — which would have been wrapped under her headpiece — around to wipe up the mess she’d made.   She kissed His feet as she sobbed, wiping away the stain of her tears, her unworthy offering, her sinful mouth, her life.

And after the grand Pharisitical discussion, Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”

Can you imagine how sweet????????????

And for an instant during the concert, I could imagine.  I could “see” His feet before me as I knelt, knew I was bringing everything I had and everything I am and everything I’m so very not and finding myself overwhelmed and unable to look up at Him in the face for fear He’d know who I *truly* was only to discover that’s who He wanted to be with in the first place. Oh my word!  The humbling love of Jesus!  It was unbelievable!  And as I cried and *heard Him* for what seemed like the first time in ages (because I hadn’t been listening while He’d been speaking), I *knew* that there is NOTHING good in me, but that somehow, IT DOES NOT MATTER!  Because He loves me anyway!  He’s going to use me anyway!  He’s going to accomplish His purposes in my life not in spite of my weaknesses, fears, and failures, but by working His strength through them, pulling beauty from the ashes and giving gladness for mourning!

PRAISE HIS NAME!!!!!!!

Even now, I am humbled to tears.  The God of All Creation sees value in me.  And I didn’t have to “put” it there; there is no “earning” in His economy.  He loves me because I am His own.  What He sees in me, I will never know, but it is of no matter, because I am HIS!

I long to write a monologue for the Luke 7 lady; it is really burning on my heart to put words to the “revelation” moment God gave me of seeing through her eyes — through her tears and her hair and her mess.  He spoke life and acceptance and healing and deliverance and FORGIVENESS into the life of “a woman who had lived a sinful life in that town.” That had been her reputation — everyone in town knew her, knew her history, knew her sin.  And within moments, Jesus took everything she and everyone else knew and gave it meaning; His parting words to her were, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” She got saved — literally!  And she knew it!  (and I want to know definitely, but I think she’s the first one in Scripture to whom Jesus said “Your faith has saved you….”)

Meaning from the mess.  What a gift He is!!!!!!!

Lord Jesus, You are — YOU ARE!  And that is enough but it’s not where You stopped.  And yes, LORD, You are still moving, and it is a privilege to see and hear and especially be a part of.  THANK YOU for Your love!  Thank You for the privilege of walking with friends in ministry, for seeing the newest generation of ministry arise, for the challenge of raising Kingdom children to be a part of what You’re doing around the world today.

I can never deserve, You, O LORD, but You already know that.  Have my alabaster box — it looks pitiful next to all You are — and my mess as well.  I love You, Jesus.  You are Everything.

Amen.