Revealed

 “…Nor does anyone know the Father except the Son, and the one to whom the Son wills to reveal Him.” Matthew 11:27b

I’m pondering a grave disappointment I’ve recently experienced, one that is ongoing and persistent, a daily reminder that life is not always as I wish it to be. I don’t get to plan it all out. I can’t make people in my image. They don’t have to live life my way. So many things are out of my hands.

I’m not God. Sigh.

For 40-some years, I have been learning a lesson. It’s taking Him a long time to teach me, but I’m so much closer to having an automatic godly response to life’s difficulties than I ever was before. The lesson is that no matter what horrific, painful, grief-filled circumstance I am given, I can and must turn to Him first, immediately, without hesitation, and completely. All my heart, mind, soul, and strength must be quickly given over into His capable care and keeping.

I choose not to entertain pain. Not to revisit hurtful comments. Not to replay in my mind the stupid things I say and do. To repent and forgive quickly.

I choose to remember His Word in those moments. I choose to lay my burdens at His feet and enter His rest. I choose to trust Him for outcomes. For fair judgment. For salvation for loved ones. For dealing with hard hearts—others’, and mine.

At the worst of times, when I thought my grieving heart would not recover, when I thought emotional death was moments away, when I felt I could not be broken any further, then I pursued Him, drew near to Him. I waited on Him, and did not pursue understanding and answers and fixes outside of Him. As He promised, He drew near to me.

Here’s the thing that happens when we walk through hardship totally enveloped in Him: we develop intimacy. He is so very present with us. He is doing what He must to loose us from bondage to the earthly things we hold dear. Perhaps there was no other way to be completely cast upon Him, to be brought to our knees before Him, to comprehend the depths of His caring.

I would never want to repeat any of the extreme hardships of my life. I don’t want to walk through those oceans of tears again. Don’t want to face those enemies again. Don’t want to feel the pain and brokenness again. Don’t want to look daily at my scars that never seem to fade. But I wouldn’t trade what I’ve gone through for any ease or comfort, any riches or luxury, any pain-free self-medicated stupor of a life that feels nothing, has no wisdom of experience, and stays in its infant state.

Without hardship, I am weak. Untested. Blind, deaf, lethargic, apathetic, foolish, and coldhearted. I need His work in me, and I am thankful for what He has done. He has made my way perfect (Psalm 18:32).

He has chosen to reveal His Son to me through the life He ordained for me. I am thankful in the deepest part of me, for before I had only heard about Him, but now I see Him (Job 42:5).

Words can’t express my thanks, Father, for the lengths You have gone to in order to reveal Yourself to me. My heart is lifted up to You.