hiding place.

When I was younger, I read a pile of books every couple of weeks during the summer. My mom took us to the library to check out books. I’d come home with as many books as the library limit would allow. This was all well & good until my dad decided I needed more “variety” in my reading selection. The next time my brother & I came home from the library, we were told to switch books. He was stuck with my fiction & biographies. I was stuck with his jet engine & science/how-to books. I don’t remember a thing I read from his pile (or did I even read them?).

It’d been a while since I’ve really been able to read “to my heart’s content,” but now that summer’s here, I’m finishing up all the books on my bookshelf that I haven’t yet finished.

I’m currently working on one of the last remaining unread books, The Christian Leaders of the Last Century by J.C. Ryle. Sweeeeet read on mostly English church history. It includes two chapters on George Whitefield! It’s the second volume though; I’ll have to order the first volume, too. More nuggets from this book in a later post.

Hopefully I’ll finish this book soon, because on the way in the mail are:
Instruments in the Redeemer’s Hands by Paul Tripp
Holiness by Grace: Delighting in the Joy that Is Our Strength by Bryan Chapell

Right now is definitely a sweet time in my life, when I can easily devote a good number of hours to good reading. I thank God for it. (I do recognize the danger of merely reading & not living, if you know what I mean; part of me would be content to simply read & never face “real” life. And those like me do have to watch out for this tendency.)

But summer’s here! For those of us with more time, let’s spend some of that time reading up! And I’m more than happy to give & receive book recommendations! :]

Tomorrow is one of my dearest friend’s birthdays. (I know, it’s a day early.)

A couple weeks ago, she told me about something she heard R. Kent Hughes wrote in The Disciplines of a Godly Man regarding David & Jonathan’s friendship in Scripture. Scripture says that Jonathan loved David as his own soul; theirs was a deep friendship that knew no rivalry (even for the throne). And Hughes said something along the lines of, “A friend is one who wants you to be king.” Even though Jonathan was the rightful heir to the throne (humanly speaking), he wanted David to be king (& God said he would be). Saul desired David’s death; Jonathan desired David’s preservation, even at the expense of himself.

Growing up, I prayed for a friend I could really trust — a likeminded friend. I really believe God answered that prayer when an upperclassman I met my freshman year of college in Crossroads Campus Ministries talked with me & suggested I meet this girl named Grace who was also a freshman. After talking to her & after talking to me, he thought we’d be good friends. He was right :]

Our friendship’s been compared to a lot of random friendships in literature since then — Anne Shirley & Diana Barry and Frodo & Samwise, to name a couple — but since a couple weeks ago, I like the David & Jonathan comparison better (she’s the David).

This is a video I made for her back in February (trying to make a video for the first time & wanting to encourage her at the same time). It semi-chronicles the 6 years of our friendship . . . only semi, because neither of us are huge on picture-taking ;]

Happy birthday, friend.

It’s been an interesting couple of weeks in terms of health. I feel like I’ve been hit by three waves of the most odd, unrelated illnesses. I’ve had a day of recovery, literally, in between each wave. I’m just coming out of the third one, & tonight, I’m feeling much better.

I’m not planning on a fourth one, so some of the posts I had in queue should be up this week.

I finished a biography on David Livingstone, 19th century missionary to Africa, yesterday. I was really dizzy while reading it, but I couldn’t put it down.

For about the last 15 years of his life, he suffered with severe, reoccurring river fever, persistent bleeding that eventually nearly drained all his blood, ulcerated feet, and other major health issues that required either bed rest or surgery, but he kept trekking through central Africa, looking for a river that would open up a way for “good” trade (as opposed to slave trading) & the gospel.

It wasn’t that he was ignorant of his health problems. He was a trained doctor. But he counted the cost, in his old age, of taking the years necessary to recover & the years he could spend still preaching the gospel to each new village he found & years he could spend searching for a pathway into central Africa. He chose the latter.

When I read of the things he did, the hope he maintained, & his strong resolve to keep moving forward even in spite of pain & weakness, I felt like such a weakling, sitting in bed and struggling to even walk to the kitchen. Sometimes, like the rest of us, I wonder if I’d be able to do what he did if I were in that situation, but again, the reminder came: we receive grace for the moment, not for what might or might not come.

I guess the question to ask isn’t, “Could I do what David Livingstone did if I were in his shoes?” The question to ask is, “Could the God of David Livingstone do in & through even a life like mine what He did in & through David’s?” The answer is, “Yes.” The God of David Livingstone, the God of Mary, the God of Job, the God of the Apostle Paul . . . God doesn’t change. He still speaks truth through His Word, the Bible. He still gives strength to the weary & grace sufficient to the weak humble.

David wrote, “I shall open a path into the interior — or perish.”

That’s intensity. But what more could you expect from someone who is passionate about his Savior & knows the immensity of an eternity apart from Him? He wasn’t a perfect man, but he was a man being perfected by Christ, his Righteousness.  He was a mere man used by Almighty God.

Just got back from San Diego an hour ago.  Just read this on John Piper’s blog.  Just overflowing with gratitude for sweet sisters & friends He’s placed in my life.  Just want to joyfully persevere so as to glorify Him.  Just wanted to encourage you to do the same.

. . .

The Wonder of “Idiotic” Perseverance

June 9, 2008  |  By: John Piper

I picked up Corrie ten Boom’s The Hiding Place, her life story welded together with an account of the Holocaust from her perspective.

She wrote about certain experiences she had as a child that prepared her, whether in a small way or a great way, for the horrors she would see later in her life as an adult — experiences that would sustain her hope in Christ even when she saw nothing but despair, cruelty, and seemingly God-forsaken people all around her in Holland, in prison, and in the concentration camp.

One experience, a lesson from her godly father, happened when she was 10 or 11 years old . . .

Seated next to Father in the train compartment, I suddenly asked [him about what a certain word meant, a word that I had heard at school that Mother and Tante Jans would not tell me the meaning of].

He turned to look at me, as he always did when answering a question, but to my surprise, he said nothing. At last he stood up, lifted his traveling case from the rack over our heads, and set it on the floor.

“Will you carry it off the train, Corrie?” he said.

I stood up at tugged at it. It was crammed with the watches and spare parts he had purchased that morning.

“It’s too heavy,” I said.

“Yes,” he said. “And it would be a pretty poor father who would ask his little girl to carry such a load. It’s the same way, Corrie, with knowledge. Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are older and stronger you can bear it. For now you must trust me to carry it for you.”

And I was satisfied. More than satisfied — wonderfully at peace. There were answers to this and all my hard questions — for know I was content to leave them in my father’s keeping.

And that we would be content to leave our hard questions in our Father’s keeping, too. That it’d be enough to know that He knows.

. . .

I’ll be in San Diego ’til Monday morning. Congratulations Kevin & Mabel, soon to be married!!!

I’ve been taking my time studying through Genesis lately. A couple days ago, I was rereading Genesis 3, when Adam and Eve are deflecting the responsibility for their sin; and as I was journaling about Adam’s response, God kindly but directly exposed sin in my heart, too.

Adam told God, “The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.” (Genesis 3:12)

Nothing I haven’t read before; he’s blaming Eve for his sin toward God, right? But then I read it again.

“The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.” Whoa. He was ultimately blaming God — God who created the world & who, with deep pleasure over His creation, said, “It is good.” God who, with compassion towards Adam, said it was “not good” that man should be alone. God who, in His kindness, fashioned a companion, a suitable helper, for Adam (Eve, woman).

And now, after sinning and sabotaging the creation that had made God’s heart swell with pleasure, Adam basically throws the blame back in God’s face, saying, “You . . . You gave me this woman. Ultimately it’s Your fault that I sinned in this way. Eve gave me the fruit, but You gave me Eve. So You God are culpable. God, You have done this — not me.”

I thought Adam must have been crazy & must have considered his life to be worthy very little to point the finger at the holy God of the universe & say, “You are responsible for my sin.”

But immediately, the thought came: Do I blame God like that? God, the circumstances You gave me? The family or home You gave me? The mother or father You gave me? The personality You gave me?

I do that, too. It makes me tremble to think of it. I take the weight of my sin, thrust it in God’s face, & say, “God, You’ve sovereignly given these things to me. Why did You give them to me? It’s Your fault. You’re responsible for my sin . . . so it’s not fair that I receive sin’s wages or punishment. If anyone, You should.” (I couldn’t help but tremble writing that out even now.)

Terror. Grief. That’s the order of emotions as I reflected on the passage. Terror to think what God’s just response should have been to my defiance and treachery. Grief to know I had been blaming my sin on the perfect One who imputed my sin to Himself & His righteousness to me.

I had to repent, praying for forgiveness and for the grace to root this sin out of my heart (and I will probably need to do this again & again as I continually seek to put off the flesh & put on Christ).  He forgives even this sin, not because it’s a light thing, but because Christ paid the full price for sins on Calvary.  Amazing grace . . . how can I understand it?  It is high; I cannot attain it.

Searching questions to ask myself often:
- Am I blaming God for sinful habits in my life by saying I picked them up from the loved ones He placed in my life?
- Am I blaming God for placing me in situations and in circumstances that “force” me to respond in sin?
- Am I blaming God for the consequences of my sinful choices?
- Am I blaming God for the hardness of my heart, for my lack of trust, by saying that He is distant or ambiguous or unclear?
- Am I blaming God, saying He made love and obedience too difficult?

I’d been reluctant to fill up on gas because of the insane prices (I pay about $70 per trip to the gas station!), so I watched as my car meter told me how many more miles I could go before my tank was empty: 30 miles to 0 . . . 25 miles to 0 . . . 20 miles to 0 . . . 10 miles to 0 . . .

I considered filling up before church today, but I decided to wait. After all, I thought, I still have 10 miles to go. As I pulled into the church parking lot, I had 5 miles to 0, but I wasn’t concerned. The nearest gas station was definitely within 5 miles.

Many of the Bible girls were on vacation or away this week, so it was a cozy group of three tonight. Instead of meeting in the room at church, we decided to have Bible study at Starbuck’s. I volunteered to drive & decided I’d get gas on the way.

The car sputtered a little when I started it (it’s not usually a sputtering car), but I thought, Pah, I’ve never run out of gas before. It won’t happen now. I’ll make it to the gas station. (Big, big logical fallacy.)

We were within sight of the gas station. It was just 15 seconds away. Then the car gave a last sputter & stopped. Died. Nothing. And the meter still said I had 5 miles to 0!

We walked to the gas station to look for a gas can. All I needed was a little bit of gas to make it to the gas station. No gas can there. “Try the auto store next door.” It closed at 8pm. “Try Walgreen’s across the street.” No gas can. “Try 7-11.” No gas can, & the 7-11 cashier kept suggesting I try using kerosene. Finally, we called someone from church. Rescued!

Bible study was supposed to start at 8pm. We ended up starting at 9:06pm. I’m so thankful those girls were good sports & considered it more of an “adventure” than a disaster.

Moral(s) of the Story: (1) Your car needs gas, unless you have an electric or push-pedal car; (2) Just because you never ran out of gas in the past doesn’t mean you never will in the future; (3) I blame it all on the gas prices.

Haha, just kidding to (3) . . .

For some reason, since this whole no-gas episode, the phrase, “No praya, no powa!” keeps echoing in my head. Funny brain.

“We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You.” (2 Chronicles 20:12 — part of King Jehoshaphat’s prayer to the LORD)

I love that. I mean, I can’t relate to having some “great horde” of an army coming against me, but in the greater and lesser things of life, I can relate to the “we do not know what to do” and the fear and quavering of heart that often accompany that.

Yet, he says, “But our eyes are on You.” That’s exactly where they should’ve been.

Jehoshaphat’s response must have delighted the heart of God. It must have, because God then told him that He would fight for them and He would be with them.

We’ll look somewhere for help — if not to ourselves & our own devices, then to another. But Jehoshaphat turned his eyes to the right One. And that’s exactly where ours should be, too, whether a horde rises against us or whether we are just fearful of Tomorrow’s tidings.

We can fill in the blank with anything, but always: “________, but our eyes are on You.” (And then to stay our eyes on Him!)

For some years now, this verse has been such a balm (in a different way than Acts 20:24 has been) to some heartache or another: “For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come.” (Hebrews 13:14)

& Hebrews 11 has been a passage that I’ve returned to again & again to pore over, pray over, cry over, & rejoice over. What a cloud of witnesses (Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Jacob, Moses . . .). What encouragement & strength gleaned from the lessons of their lives. What a testimony to the faithfulness of God, the very same God who calls me to walk by faith & in faith today.

I take heart from the example of Abraham, who obeyed & “went out, not knowing where he was going . . . for he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer & builder is God” (vv. 8-10); from the example of Sarah who “considered Him faithful who had promised,” even in things that were humanly impossible (vv. 11-12); from the example of Moses, who “refused to be called the son of Pharoah’s daughter, choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin . . . consider[ing] the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt . . .” (vv. 23-26); & from the example of others, who “were made strong out of weakness . . . were tortured, refusing to accept release, so that they might rise again to a better life . . . suffered mocking & flogging . . .” (vv. 32-28).

All of these in Hebrews 11 did one thing in common. One thing they did commended them: they looked on God with eyes of faith. “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by it the people of old received their commendation.” (Hebrews 11:1-2)

They took God at His word, even when things visible did not necessarily affirm His word or His promises. They “considered Him faithful who had promised” (v. 11), “died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them & greeted them from afar” (v. 13), & “endured as seeing Him who is invisible” (v. 27).

Their sights were set on God. Nothing else mattered. It didn’t matter if circumstances did not make His Word likely. It didn’t matter if human reason argued against the fulfillment of His promises. It didn’t matter what happened to them here. Here was not where their lasting city was anyway. Here was not where their treasure was stored anyway.

After their years here, they reached their lasting city. They reached the place of their rest. They reached where their heart was, where their treasured was laid up.

It is on this basis — this rich history of what God has done in the lives of His weak, embattled people — that we are exhorted to “run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder & prefecter of our faith” (Hebrews 12:1-2).

These wandered the earth as pilgrims & as foreigners, citizens of a more lasting city. In the moments when I feel like a wanderer, I’m reminded that others have journeyed much farther & have faced greater trials & heartaches. This isn’t to diminish my aches but to put even the smallest aches into perspective & to magnify the God of faithfulness, the God of grace sufficient, who sovereignly led His people in all kinds of different circumstances throughout the ages.

Let us, too, acknowledge that we are “strangers & exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared for them a city.” (Hebrews 11:13-16)

Excerpt from a hymn written by Fanny Crosby, a blind believer:

All along my pilgrim journey, Savior, let me walk with Thee . . .
Lead me through the vale of shadows, bear me over life’s fitful sea;
Then the gate of life eternal may I enter, Lord, with Thee.
Close to Thee, close to Thee, close to Thee, close to Thee,
Then the gate of life eternal may I enter, Lord, with Thee.

Let’s sing with her until our faith gives way to sight, until our wanderings lead us Home: Close to Thee, close to Thee.

Where’s my hope?

Jeremiah remembered God. He remembered who God is; he remembered the unchanging character & purpose of God. In the midst of destruction & despair, in the face of a hard providence, Jeremiah preached truth to himself:

This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope. The LORD’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “Therefore I have hope in Him.” It is good that he waits silently for the salvation of the LORD. (Lamentations 3:21-24)

It amazes me that a man like Jeremiah could say he hoped in the LORD, even after all he had witnessed. For over 40 years, he preached a message of repentance & of God’s coming judgment on Judah’s sins. No one repented. He watched as calamity fell on the people of Judah; he saw the destruction of Jerusalem. With his finite eyes, what could he see but devastation? What could he see but no future, no hope for Judah?

But his hope wasn’t in anything that his eyes could see. His hope wasn’t in the possibilities or probabilities considering the present situation. His hope was in God, his portion.

Habakkuk, too, hoped in God in the midst of confusion & uncertainty. Regardless of circumstances, his hope (& joy) was in God.

Though the fig tree should not blossom & there be no fruit on the vines, though the yield of the olive should fail & the fields produce no food, though the flock should be cut off from the fold & there be no cattle in the stalls, yet I will exult in the LORD, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation. (Habakkuk 3:17-18 )

Jeremiah & Habakkuk looked to God. They looked nowhere else, because they knew hope was found in God alone. They knew hope in God would not disappoint, no matter how hopeless things may seem. They had the kind of strength-giving hope G.K. Chesterton refers to:

Hope means hoping when things are hopeless, or it is no virtue at all . . . As long as matters are really hopeful, hope is mere flattery or platitude; it is only when everything is hopeless that hope begins to be a strength.

There are those like Jeremiah & Habakkuk.

Yup. And then there are those like me.

I put my hope in the possibility of changed circumstances. I put my hope in the fulfillment of certain wants or plans. I put my hope in people. I put my hope in events. I put hope in myself — my meager abilities & my own devices. I put my hope in the possibility of deliverance, not the surety of the Deliverer.

I put my hope in things that I can see, because I think that what is seen is more sure than what is not seen (at least, not with my physical eyes). I forget that hope that is seen is no hope at all; & when my earthly “hopes” fail me, when I don’t see circumstances or hearts changing, I become sorely disappointed, discontent, or depressed.

I might say, or I might want to believe, that I’m hoping in God, but as long as I continue to be “hopeful” in these other things, my hope toward God is just vocabulary without reality.

But I’m thankful that false hope causes me to despair. My hope and expectation should be in God & in His word. This is true hope.

“And now, Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in You.” (Psalm 39:7)

“For You are my hope; O Lord GOD, You are my confidence from my youth.” (Psalm 71:5)

“Remember the word to Your servant, in which You have made me hope.” (Psalm 119:49)

Only in the Lord do I find strength-giving hope for times of disaster, for times of despair, for times of grief, for times of discouragement with sin, for times of relentless circumstances, & for times of disappointment. He is my hope — nothing else, no one else. In Christ alone, my hope is found.

I can anchor my heart, my expectation, my everything in Him & in His promises.

Sometimes, things seem really hopeless. But this is because our hope is often misplaced. Our hope was never meant to be put in the things we see. Our hope was never meant to be put in people (how can we expect so much from man?).

Our hope is to be in God. And as we hope in Him, we find strength to wait upon Him. We find strength to persevere until our expectation is realized through Him, in Him, & for Him.

“Be strong and let your heart take courage, all you who hope in the LORD.” (Psalm 31:24)