It Doesn't FEEL Well
I went to my prayer room this morning to pray.
I opened my alabastor box and anointed myself with spikenard. "God, sometimes I don't want to be devoted to You. I don't want to listen to you or do your will."
I put my hand on the coins. "Sometimes I'm not grateful for Your provision."
I picked up the framed, stamp-sized photo of the Aurora Borealis. "Sometimes You seem so far away and I don't want to give you any reason to rejoice over me."
I put my hand on the Book of Common Prayer. "Sometimes it feels like prayer is meaningless."
I touched the bulldozer with the "boulders" in front of it. "Sometimes the boulders are overwhelming, God, and there's no way to remove them."
I handled the spike. "What was the point of taking my sins?"
I looked at the inkwell with the quill. "God, even my voice has been taken from me."
I knelt before the candle. "You want me to be a light to the world but all I see is a dark cloud."
I looked at the salt cellar. "And all I provide is a bad taste in people's mouths."
I picked up the crown of thorns. "My whole being seems wrapped up in thorns, God."
I sat in my rocker where I could view the symbols of God's work in my life, feeling nothing good or redemptive, and I sang:
When peace like a river attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll.
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
'It is well, it is well with my soul.'
I opened my alabastor box and anointed myself with spikenard. "God, sometimes I don't want to be devoted to You. I don't want to listen to you or do your will."
I put my hand on the coins. "Sometimes I'm not grateful for Your provision."
I picked up the framed, stamp-sized photo of the Aurora Borealis. "Sometimes You seem so far away and I don't want to give you any reason to rejoice over me."
I put my hand on the Book of Common Prayer. "Sometimes it feels like prayer is meaningless."
I touched the bulldozer with the "boulders" in front of it. "Sometimes the boulders are overwhelming, God, and there's no way to remove them."
I handled the spike. "What was the point of taking my sins?"
I looked at the inkwell with the quill. "God, even my voice has been taken from me."
I knelt before the candle. "You want me to be a light to the world but all I see is a dark cloud."
I looked at the salt cellar. "And all I provide is a bad taste in people's mouths."
I picked up the crown of thorns. "My whole being seems wrapped up in thorns, God."
I sat in my rocker where I could view the symbols of God's work in my life, feeling nothing good or redemptive, and I sang:
When peace like a river attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll.
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
'It is well, it is well with my soul.'
posted by Magdaleine at 12:14 PM
2 Comments:
Wonderful! Excellent!
So much of the time we allow our feelings and/or our circumstances to be the barometer of our walk with God, instead of walking in faith and trusting that "this too shall pass."
I wonder how many people could be helped if each of us had a dollar for every time our flesh has worked against us, as it did against you at that time.
"If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness."
2 Corinthians 11:30 (NIV)
"Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Corinthians 12:8-10 (NIV)
The passage you quoted here, Karl, is one of my favourites. It is the reason I write what I do. I'm hoping to post something on my blog later that will elaborate on this. May God be with you.
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