All Manner of Things

After a week of gallivanting around Oxford, I am pretty tired. But I've had a few things on my mind. I've been thinking about Gideon and his 300 men, John the Baptist and the "eschatological bachelor party," and the adventures of my own life. I've been considering the great cost involved in following Jesus. It's the cost of perishing . . . of dying to ourselves, so that we might decrease and he might increase. The entire purpose of our lives revolves around obtaining the favor of the Lord. Everything we do, small or great, should be to gain the favor of God. But the favor of God is a high calling. It is a path that requires many deaths. "Take up your cross and follow me daily," Jesus said. Sometimes those deaths involve seeing your highest hopes come to naught.

Over 6 months ago, a lot of things changed. God established a covenant. He made me promises and laid down the requirements. At first, it was scary; it was a risk to believe God and to follow him into the shadows of uncertainty. But he was faithful. He confirmed his leading and asked me to believe. He asked me to walk daily in the promises and to seek unreservedly the favor of the Lord. So that's what I did. And even though it was hard, God was powerfully at work in ways that blew my mind. He daily evidenced my faith. He literally worked miracles that dropped my jaw. More than ever, I believed.

But things aren't always so peachy. Why is it that we doubt God's promises in the desert of uncertainty, when he's the one that gave us manna; he's the one that gave us water from the rock? It was his flaming cloud of protection that encamped around us day and night. If he proved himself faithful at the Red Sea, will he not prove himself faithful in the desert?

But we say, "Well, Lord, where's the manna now, huh? Where's the water?"

The funny thing is . . . when he doesn't give you manna, and he doesn't give you water, he gives your body the strength to go without it.

But, we say, "We're tired. It hurts. I feel the hunger pangs."

He answers... "Man does not live on bread alone, but on the Word of God."

"But the Word is long in coming," we say. "Your promises are starving themselves dry."

"The revelation awaits an appointed time," he answers. "Though it linger, wait for it. It will surely come and will not delay. But you, my righteous one, will live by faith. If you shrink back, I will not be pleased with you."

"But how much longer?" we say.

He answers, "Do you not remember the former things? My mouth announced them and I made them known; then suddenly I acted, and they came to pass. As I have done before, so will I do again."

And all we can do is sigh quietly, bow our heads, and concede, "Not my will, but thine be done."




And just when we think the conversation is over, we hear that still, small voice whisper gently...

All shall be well. All manner of things shall be well.