Trust

If I say that I trust God enough to let Him do the work in me, then the challenge is to trust Him enough to not try to do it in a way that acts as though Christ is not present within me.  This is a vigilant posture; everything in the flesh or ego wants to tackle the job from an independent stance – self wants credit for the changes that occur.  Religious jargon provokes vain attempts to try to conquer my own foe. The flesh lusts for the power and glory that belong to God.

A question I ask myself is whether or not I will receive God’s love despite the weaknesses of the flesh.  Can I remain in peace and rest in the face of frailty?  If nothing can separate me from His love then doesn’t that include the offensiveness of the flesh?  Will I love others and myself with His love and resist the demand that we first fix our flesh or ego?

The flesh is an attention-seeker with an endless campaign to enlist self-effort.  It wants to earn love by seeming victorious. It is silenced as I recall that it is God (quietly at work in me) who treads down my enemy.  It is the pride of the flesh that the Lord despises…not my weaknesses. Can I remain still even when it seems like God isn’t on the job?  Can I trust Him even if it seems He is neglecting His promise? Can I love myself even when it seems like flesh is winning and making a mockery out of my trust?

To trust Him is also to accept my feelings of nakedness…allowing His Spirit to clothe me while Christ is growing up in me. Christ in me is my only hope of glory.  He was the model of new creation living.  His union with the Father was a revelation of God’s original blueprint. God always intended to inhabit humanity – to flow through us in seamless unity just as He did in Christ.  Jesus gave substance and tangibility to God’s plan when He took sin and separation with Him into death, burial, and resurrection. God is able to delight in me in the here and now because His righteousness is upon me in Christ.

Jesus operated from union with God in full measure. His being and doing were fully eclipsed and yet even He grew into Himself.  There was a moment in which He realized He was born of a different Father than that of His peers. His life was drawn from a different Source.  Once He saw His Father He did what He saw His Father doing. The mystifying plan to re-birth humanity was set in motion.  A new breed was seeded, and Jesus was the first born among many brethren.

Jesus walked in unpolluted union with God.  He was not born of Adam, thus He never knew the seed of separation. He was capable of sin, yet without sin.  He had only One Father. He was not adopted, grafted in, born again, rebirthed, or redeemed. He was always born from above and yet even Jesus (Son of God, God with us, God in the flesh, or God as His own sacrificial Lamb) deferred goodness, glory, and honor to the Father.  This helps me to understand that even though He was one with His Father, He did not claim to be the Father. Humility and reverence was exampled; He kept pride in check – never to boast equality with God.  His revelation of oneness with His Father never weakened the mystery of the Holy Trinity – in which I also now live, move, and have my being.

I walk in the light as He is in the light.  I am perfect as my Father in heaven is perfect.  I experience light and perfection in the same way as God…but not in the same measure. Union infers the ability to draw upon the strength of another and to become like the other – when I see Him I shall be like Him – but being in likeness to Him is not the same as being His equal.  He remains the Vine from which the branch draws life.  I am nourished and bear the fruit of the Vine, but I remain the branch and He remains the life-giving Vine.

Trusting Him enough to ‘let Him do it’ means that Christ (in me, living as me) eventually does ‘it’ whatever ‘it’ may be.  In that moment it may seem that I am the one doing the work because union can cause one to look like the other. But I can’t make it happen or even increase my own revelation of union any more than I can tame the ego or turn enemies into footstools.  What is done is done in union.  He is the power behind the action. My life in this flesh is lived by faith in His life in me.  I do only what I know to do in each given moment.  I do as I am bidden.  I come to the inner sanctum and am ravished by His love…and even that is in response to His draw.

“The Christian often tries to forget his weakness: God wants us to remember it, to feel it deeply. The Christian wants to conquer his weakness and to be freed from it: God wants us to rest and even rejoice in it. The Christian mourns over his weakness: Christ teaches His servant to say, “I take pleasure in infirmities; most gladly will I glory in my infirmities.” The Christian thinks his weakness his greatest hindrance in the life and service of God: God tells us that it is the secret of strength and success. It is our weakness, heartily accepted and continually realized, that gives us our claim and access to the strength of Him who has said, “My strength is made perfect in weakness.””

Andrew Murray

Why does it seem that religion does not foster the same gracious embrace of spiritual seasons as is extended toward natural ones?  Every part of my life (spiritual growth, marriage, ministry, finance, social outreach, etc) undergoes the changing of the seasons – winter, spring, summer, and autumn are facts of life on every level.  Some years have more drought or pestilence than others – but I cannot make it rain or stop the locusts.  I can however, trust God in it all.

Winter is cold and uncomfortable by nature. It’s a fact – but I don’t turn on myself or question my heart just because it’s snowing outside!  I allow it to be what it is – a time of physical rest.  I rely on the food I gathered from a previous harvest without complaining that the ground is now frozen. I might sit by a fire and consider past mistakes, but I will also allow the hibernation of the season to repair the damage and to prepare me for the rigors of what the upcoming springtime will demand.

Spring is an active time of implementing the quiet insight and instruction I gained in the winter.  It requires spiritual and physical energy – for it is time to plow the ground that is newly thawed.  The ground may be fallow and in need of great fertilization before I can even plant my first seed…but it’s okay because it is spring and my energy is renewed!  I don’t feel daunted by the task in the way that I would if I were trying to “force myself” to do in winter what was intended for me to do in spring!

If winter is cold by nature then summer is hot! It requires frequent watering and weeding of the freshly planted crop.  The crop is in danger from the heat of the day and I protect it with my focused attention. Summer requires a lot of mental vigilance but it is also when I catch the first glimpse of the fruit of my labor. The seed sprouts and gives me hope.

Autumn is harvest time! I reap the reward of spring and summer.  I give thanks, eat the fruit, and store up for the winter that is surely coming again.

Allowing the seasons (both natural and spiritual) to be what they are is graceful.  God initiated the seasons and only He knows how long each one will last.  He isn’t asking me to live in perpetual spring.  He’s okay with winter, and drought, and flood, and locust, and the beauty of spring and summer and the changing colors of the fall.

If I don’t allow myself the experience of my own seasons then the whole cycle of my being goes off kilter.  I become susceptible to legalism and performance pressure as I try to “perform” outside of the season I am in. I may even misconstrue what I believe I hear God saying to me because of ingrained ideologies that suggest I should always be in “spring” mode.

Seasons are not criminal.   He leads me into the dark and lonely place just as surely as He leads me into the light.  There is a time for every season under the sun.  I won’t make “Christian promises” that I cannot keep.  He has promised to never leave me nor forsake me…but He never said I would never feel lonely or abandoned.  If He wields His sovereignty to wean me from the masses, it will feel incredibly lonesome.  The flesh remains fearful and in this dimension I remain in the flesh.  I will experience its tremors…but that’s okay.  Spirit triumphs and life always conquers death.  I will not remain in any tomb for too long.  The stone rolls away and resurrection occurs…again and again and again.

My beloved spoke, and said to me:
“Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grapes give a good smell. Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away! O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the cliff, let me see your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.”

Song of Songs 2:10-14 (NKJV)

God is both the Author and the Finisher of my faith. He creates, and He maintains what He has created.  I am His and He provides for me. Even nature heralds the sweet dependency of waiting upon Him for all things.  As I wait, He increases and I decrease; therefore I continue to trust His instruction for me to wait for His “irresistible movement” within me. Waiting on Him is restoration in motion.  I feel most at home in the awareness that I am wholly dependent on Him; it is the necessity of my true being. Unceasing dependence upon Him is cleansing my faith and religious beliefs.  It is the raw expression of my relationship with Him in whom I live and move and have my being. I wait on Him and He awakens my whole attention as His servant and His vessel.

I am not waiting on myself to see what I feel or what changes will come to me.  I wait on God; first to know Who He is, and then to see what He will do. I only want to do those things that I see Him doing in me; as I wait in Him He purifies the view of His life in mine.  His word makes known His ways, His grace makes known His power.  I wait, and He ignites both within my heart.

I cannot keep His ways any more than I can manufacture grace.  To try is to strip my every confidence in Him. I am surrendered to willingly and trustingly keep His ways…but in the strength I receive as I wait in Him. I do not doubt that I am His without reserve.  He proves Himself to be my God as He works in me that which is pleasing in His sight through Christ.

I see His ways in His word, as nature unfolds, as His providence points them out, and as the Holy Spirit indicates.  But I know them as I wait in His presence. It matters not that I am weak, only that I am willing…and He takes care of that. He who has worked to will, will also work to do by His power.  My waiting is born in recognition of my impotence and His omnipotence. He is the only  true power there is.  I am content to receive from Him (each moment) the workings of His grace and life.  Waiting on God is my strength to run and not be weary, to walk and never faint.

I wait, but I walk. I walk, but I wait. If the fleshly mind takes hold it will misconstrue the motive. The flesh makes “action” the highest measure of man. Its emphasis assumes too much autonomy and will subtly separate doing from being. As a doer of the word (not a hearer only) I must remember that the word is spirit not flesh.  Acting on the word is a spiritual response.  It belongs to the spirit and when proceeding from the spirit it is true obedience.  If we act from our union with Christ – then action cannot be separated from Him. We obey, but with such overshadowing that the action is barely distinguishable as our own. It is Christ, behaving effortlessly and baring no resemblance to what we formerly called obedience.

Action and obedience occur. Some actions come quick, others take longer, but the effort is Christ’s. The hard part is the waiting. To embrace life as a receiver is uncomfortable;it is easy to be misjudged. A long season of waiting is at odds with an action-oriented society that is quick with labels like lazy, selfish, or passive. Mine is to stay the course, to receive life (instead of trying to make it happen) and to trust that every action eventually takes flight in union.  Then I will know that I am truly living, yet not I, but Christ is living in, by, through, for, and as me.