Secure

"I know," 
I hear You say
"I've always
Seen and known
Your aching wounds
Beneath.

"Come
Let me take
Each curled
And twisted knot
And in My living
Breathing Word
Unravel
And release.

"For then I'll pour
Back out of you
My honey sweet
Of grace
And truth.

"Come, be My child
Calm and quiet
Your soul
In My love
Let Me soothe you
In My arms
And balm
Your wounds.

"Come, lean on Me
And let Me
Remind you
Again and again
That I hold
Your lot evermore
Secure."

Anger’s Invitation

Did you know that the anger rising within us, is not our shame to hide, but Jesus’ invitation to come to Him just as we are. To let Him pick us up and hold us in His strong, safe arms. For, He longs to unravel our hearts in His mercy, to comfort and restore us in His love.

He won’t let us go in our anger. He promises to hold us tight and to speak HIS Word of truth and grace over us. Just as He has done for me, over and over again.

Once, in a vision during EMDR therapy, I saw Him pick me up to hold me close to His heart. I heard Him invite me to kick, scream and flail. He promised to hold me tight and not let me go. As He freed me to cast out what lurked within me, I felt the tension holding my body captive dissolve into tears, as He uncovered the wounds He had so longed to nurse.

You see, trauma cages us. Frozen in shock and fear, we are unable to feel and process what we have walked through. But even trauma is no match for our King of Kings and Lord of Lords. For, Jesus, like no other, knows what it is to walk through grave injustice. And so, rather than condemn us and our frozen hearts, He moves toward us in our need. He breathes His warmth over and into us to melt our hearts in His love for us.

He moves toward us to set our hearts free to run in the path of His commands. For, He longs to fill us with peace and to release rivers of mercy from us. Just like the rivers of mercy that flowed in His tears for us, as He walked toward the Cross to do the will of His Father for the joy set before Him.

Psalm 7:11 says “God is a righteous judge, a God who displays His wrath every day.” We love to talk of the God of love, but that same God of love also loves through His wrath and through His justice. He hates sin because it cripples, shames and enslaves us.

So, when we walk through injustice and suffering, God is angry and He weeps. He is not aloof or lacking in compassion. Rather, even now, His hand of justice is working to bring full restoration and healing. 

Part of this restoration and healing comes in the release of our hearts from anger. Anger is a natural human response to situations, where we feel helpless. Our bodies seek to restore the control taken from us, by asserting control. But this anger hides the very real wounds inside us that are crying out to be nursed.

God knows that anger, if not released, will only further destroy our souls and infect all our relationships. It enables the thief and accuser of our souls to steal, kill and destroy. This is why God calls us to cast our burdens upon Him and to pour out our hearts to Him. 

Casting is a strong word. It doesn’t mean settling ourselves down first to then speak in polite niceties to our Savior. It means Christ is inviting us to get real before Him. To turn our anger toward Him that HE may lift its heavy weight off of us. And where we are frozen in trauma, He is more than able to free us to express our anger and to release our tears.

In expressing our anger freely, we follow in the footsteps of King David and many prophets in the Bible, who didn’t hide their anger, but spoke it aloud before their Maker in deep laments, as they walked through grave injustice in doing the will of their God.

Jesus is not ashamed of us in our anger. The anger is only His invitation to come to Him, just as we are. To allow Him to unravel our hearts, comfort us in our pain, and transform our anger into rivers of mercy.

Will you join me in prayer?

Thank You, LORD, that You see me, You see all the injustice I and my loved ones have walked through.  Thank You that You are angry too, that You are a holy God of wrath and justice, who has not turned a blind eye to our suffering (Hebrews 10:30). 

Thank You that Your heart weeps at the destruction wreaked by the enemy of our souls (Luke 19:41, John 11:35). Thank You that I can come before Your throne in complete confidence that you accept me, as I am (Hebrews 4:16). Thank You that I don’t need to clean myself up first, but that I can come just as I am, knowing You will not turn me away (Psalm 55: 22). 

Thank You that my righteousness has been bought at the Cross to set me free from all unholy anger, bitterness and rage that consumes me, that You may uncover and nurse the wounds hidden within me.

LORD, thank You that You are my refuge and strength. As I come to You now, breathe Your warmth over and into me. Melt me in Your love and mercy.

For, LORD, I turn to You now as I am. Unravel me in Your living and breathing Word of truth, love and grace. Melt my heart in the arms of Jesus to pour out all that lurks within me. Release Your mercy richly in and through me.

Set me free that my lips may speak of Your mercy for us all. I am opening my hands wide to receive Your ‘wildly extravagant life gift, this grand setting-everything-right’ (Romans 5: 17 MSG). Hear my cry for mercy! In Your precious Name, Amen.

Grace

Isaiah 30: 18 (AMP) And therefore the Lord earnestly waits [expecting, looking and longing] to be gracious to you; and therefore He lifts Himself up, that He may have mercy on you and show loving-kindness to you. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all those who wait for Him, who expect and look and long for Him- for His victory, His favor, His love, His peace, His joy, and His matchless, unbroken companionship!


As my heart opened further to God’s outstretched arms welcoming me home, He began to show me how His heart yearned for my companionship. As the summer holidays beckoned, He slowed me to sit in His Presence, all around me.

First, He assured me of His love, by turning me to the final verse of Psalm 23 in the Message version. This verse both reminded me of His everlasting love for me and encouraged me to look at  the love he was bestowing on me daily in the beauty around me.

Then, He encouraged me to slow to receive His many gifts in thanksgiving through Ann Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are. Ann’s words, etched in pain, but brimming over in deep abiding joy, further opened my eyes and heart to how exactly His beauty and love chases after me, every single day. I started recognizing how often my hands were tightly clenched, stress and anxiety stealing my joy, just as they had Ann’s in the past. I remember talking to my husband about it and being reminded by Ann’s words of how often my husband would come sit beside me and take hold of my hands to unclench them. And then I read Voskamp’s words:

“Joy is a flame that glimmers only in the palm of the open and humble hand. In an open and humble palm, released and surrendered to receive, light dances, flickers happy. The moment the hand is clenched tight, fingers all pointing toward self and rights and demands, joy is snuffed out.”

Ann Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are, (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2011), p.177


Later, I would be drawn more deeply into this humbling to receive even more of the joy that awaited me, but for now, Ann’s words encouraged me to turn to thankfulness in the smallest of moments and find God present there with me.

As I read further, Ann revealed that (p.176): “The feeling of joy begins in the action of thanksgiving.” or in (p.33): “Eucharisteo”, “Charis” meaning Grace and its root “Chara” meaning joy. Thus, the moment we open our hands to His gift of grace in thanksgiving, His joy will fill us to overflowing.

Through her own story of choosing to record the gifts God bestowed on her daily, Ann showed me how slowing down throughout my day, could enable me to both see and choose to receive the daily gifts of grace God so dearly yearned to give me.

Throughout the summer holiday, my eyes and heart began to open to these many gifts. As I returned to the busy schedule of part-time work and caring for my family, about five months after burying my Mum, I sat down to record the impact of this slowing in my journal:

His Beauty and Love Chase After Me

Psalm 23:6 (The Message) Your beauty and love chase after me every day of my life I’m back home in the house of God for the rest of my life


This is the verse God gave me to show me just how much He loves me. I was doubting this love and He showed me that it was ALL around me. Now, when I choose to slow down to behold his “beauty” around me, I also see His “love” for me.

When I look at the sparkling joy within my girls’ eyes and the warmth of their embrace; when I stop to notice the smile of my husband, when he looks at me, a smile that captures a true, deep love; when I stop to look out the window at work and see a beautiful magpie, reminding me of God’s presence among us; when I stoop to observe his tiniest creations, the caterpillars, who remind me of His promise of eternal life and that one day our family will be fully reunited; when I slow to notice the light pouring through the forest, reminding me that even though things seem dark, His light and warmth never leave us, that His Spirit and Word continue to guide us, as they have done for generations before us; when I see the outstretched trees, I see His outstretched arms for us, His children.


Trying to maintain this slowing down into wonderment and joy beyond the quiet of the summer holidays, I started recording a daily gratefulness list via Facebook. While this blessed both me and others around me, it did not bring the true rest my body and soul yearned for. God knew that for that to come in greater and greater measure, He would need to reveal how much more deeply His love and mercy ran. A revelation He chose to bring through allowing the enemy to sift me like wheat, just as He did when I was little.

He was about to show me that in Him, NOTHING is wasted. He was about to begin redeeming my Prodigal story of pain and trauma. He was about to open my eyes to see that my story is not a story of pain and trauma but a story of God’s goodness and mercy chasing after us all. A story of a sovereign and mighty God who took what the enemy meant to steal, kill and destroy and turned it into life and more life and more life . . . And who is continuing to do so. Daily.

At the beginning of 2015, I started walking through one Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder trigger after another to find my Jesus there with me. Weeping with me. Holding me. Speaking truth over me. Lifting every accusation and covering me in His cloak of truth and mercy.

Ever yielding me to His will, that I might join Him in His suffering, His death and resurrection, to see redemption begin to flow, not just for me, but so many more through His life and love and mercy at work in me. A redemption I am continuing to see unveil before me.

Thank You, Jesus, for the gifts You are extending to us daily. Open our hearts and eyes more and more to Your Presence with us. Thank You that You see our deep longing to know Your heart more and more.

Oh Father, help us to lay down every accusation of condemnation at Your feet and to arise and shine in the light of Your truth, love and mercy for us. When You call us into a time of sifting, help us to see Your desire, not to hurt us, but to free us more and more and to draw us into ever deeper communion and intimacy with You. Cause us to call upon Your Name that You may save us in our affliction. Turn our valley of ashes into a garden of redemption to the honor and glory of Your Name.

Lift us up to praise You. Fill our mouths with laughter and our feet with dance. Show us that You are the God who (Isaiah 51:3 NIV): “will surely comfort Zion and will look with compassion on all her ruins;” the God who “will make her deserts like Eden, her wastelands like the garden of the LORD.” YES! We declare that: “Joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the sound of singing.In Your precious Name, Amen.

This is the eighth installment of Anna Smit’s personal testimony to the love and mercy of Jesus. These installments of her testimony are God’s answer to all of us who have walked a path of trauma and heartache, believing our God has abandoned us. For He has never ever forsaken us and He wants us to know it, and to see the fingerprints of the Cross – and His unending love for us – all over our lives. For the first installment see: Love Never Ends

Love Conquers All

A phantom pain
Still pierces
Gnawing my resolve
Though dead to sin
My past still calls me 
Lie down in shame
To mocking tongues 
Telling me I'm captive
To what's no more.

I shift and fidget 
Nervously
I use my tongue
To defend myself
And those I love
Yes, I subdue 
The phantom's pain
But only now behold   
Not freedom's portion
But fear and shame
My lot becoming.

I've wrapped myself 
In changing
Worth of man
Mocking
Never-changing 
Perfect Love
In me.

But then
I see
The One
Who silent stood
So safe, secure 
In His Father's love
He walked toward
The Cross
For me.

The One who
For the joy
Set before Him
Bore my sin
On a Cross
Esteeming not
Its shame
But declaring
In His surrender
The weight of glory:
That love
Conquers all.

Stripped naked 
And there pierced  
He chose to die 
That I might not
Stay chained
To fear and shame
But tethered to
His love and mercy:
Go free.

So, I take up
My Cross
Dying to the old
To rise anew
To life everlasting
Joining Christ
In His death
And resurrection.

I look upon this King
All our sins
See covered pure
In grace's veil
He's borne our sin
And all our pain
Perfecting us
In weakness
That I might now 
Walk free.

Yes! I am free
To clothe myself
In the Good News
Of the Cross
To run, unashamed
And unafraid
To boast in the grace
That sets us free
To die to sin
And live unto Christ.

So, I yield to love
In silent witness strong 
The Word in me
Securing
My righteous path
Yielding me
To join Christ
In His death and
Resurrection
Set free.

To no longer walk
Away from this world
In seeking the living
Among the dead
But to follow Christ
Into the world
To be sanctified daily
In my Living Word
To recognize
Each one He's sent me
As not of this world
But His.

May I now become
Who Christ
Always created me
To be
His Anna, His grace
Sent from the womb
Into this aching world
To go
To immediately recognize
Him - our Messiah -
In the least of these.

May I now ever declare
In my weakness boasting
Christ's Perfect Love
Conquers

All.
The final birthday card my mother penned, less than two months before she went to be with Jesus.

“This kinship-of-calling was sufficiently strong that—as in the incident at the temple at age twelve—Jesus risked giving offense to his natural family by affirming the priority of his heavenly family. Nothing took primacy for Jesus over surrender to the loving will of the Father.”

“Our self-in-Christ is a self that fits perfectly because it is completely us. It is a self that allows us to be free of all anxiety regarding how we should be and who we are. And it allows us to be absolutely our self—unique not by virtue of our strivings for individuality but profoundly original simply because that is who and what we are.”

David G. Benner, The Gift of Being Yourself: The Sacred Call to Self-Discovery, p.91 and p. 95

“The Lord may very well keep you on the outside of a person or group as a way of guarding your own heart. As hard as it is to believe this in the moment, sometimes we must accept, as my friend Salena says, that rejection is God’s protection from what isn’t in our best interest. As we struggle to hang on to hope for finding where we belong, we can absolutely believe that God hasn’t saved his worst for us. We can be for ourselves by trusting him to place us with those who will feed, honor, love, and serve us best as we reciprocate those actions to those folks too. If you are on the outside somewhere, God is simultaneously calling you on the inside somewhere else. You are on the inside somewhere else. Remember, there’s always room at the table God picks out for you.”

Kirsten Strong, Back Roads to Belonging: Unexpected Paths to Finding Your Place and Your People, P.141

Make Me A Table

Make me a table 
In You
Spread me out
Far and wide.

Make me a feast
In You
Food and clothing
You.

Make me a table
In You
The bread of Your Presence
Breaking our prisons.

Make me a table
In You
Living water flowing freely
A cool drink for the thirsty.

Make me a table
In You
Your cup ever overflowing
In goodness and mercy.

Make me a table
In You
The oil of compassion
Anointing children, Yours.

Make me a table
In You
Spread far and wide
In Your Presence to feast.

Thanks to Jonathan Borba @jonathanborba for making the profile photo for this post available freely on Unsplash 🎁 https://unsplash.com/photos/RWgE9_lKj_Y

In Weakness Perfected

When we walk through the aftermath of loss and trauma, we often feel the weight of our broken humanity so much more. Rather than listen to God’s still, sweet voice, it can feel safer to hold onto the accusations we hear inside of us.

When the LORD began to call me to share the Words and visions I saw with a family I had been praying for, I struggled. What if these were just figments of my imagination? What if they gave them false hope or upset them? I could hear the enemy breathing down my neck: “God would never call someone like you to intercede for others in prayer. He would never give someone like you these kind of Words and visions.”

Then, a leader I deeply respected, most likely trying to protect me in my fears, affirmed the very accusations I was already hearing, when I asked for advice. And so a tug of war ensued. Until finally, I cried out in frustrated anger.

I told God enough was enough. Either I was going to zip my lips, or God had better show me that it was indeed He, who had called me to speak His Word into this family’s situation.

Moments later, three separate affirmations arrived. But the most amazing affirmation of all was what unfolded with a stranger, mere minutes after my prayer. I was standing at a train station minding my own business, when a man approached me. He asked to borrow my phone to call his brother to let him know he’d be late. I was frightened by his dishevelled exterior, but didn’t want to be rude, so I offered to call his brother for him and tell him.

After doing so, the man thanked me profusely and suddenly began to share parts of his life story. He started by sharing his full (Hebrew) name and his Christian upbringing. And went on to share of the incredible suffering his parents walked through and their inability to love him as he needed to be loved. He then shared about his struggle to believe and to be freed from his addictions.

I listened intently, praying for God to fill me with the wisdom I lacked. I longed to help this man see how much God still loved him and yearned to comfort and bring healing. It’s then, as we sat together on the train, that the Holy Spirit prompted me to openly share about the trauma I had walked through as a little girl and how God was leading me to a place of healing and forgiveness.

The Holy Spirit also provided a question to ask the man. It is this question that visibly moved the man. He kept repeating it and working through its implications. Suddenly, I saw compassion enter the man’s eyes as he spoke of his parents, rather than the hurt and bitterness that had been there moments earlier. The Lord was so clearly working in his heart.

I sat there beside him on the train, amazed. If it was not for the Lord’s promptings I would never have gone near this man. He stunk of alcohol and his dishevelled appearance both frightened and revolted me. But God was not put off by my fears or judgement. He pressed until I responded in grace and love as He wanted me to.

After this experience I knew. I knew that even in my broken, newly returned Prodigal state, God was calling me to intercede and speak encouragement into others’ lives. It’s then I knew the Scriptures and visions of Bible stories I was receiving in prayer were gifts from God, not given to hoard, but share.

Oh there have still been moments since then, that I have turned to hide and dim my light. But my God has been so faithful to return me to Himself and to remind me that His power is perfected in weakness. He has lifted me back out of the mire to set my feet upon the Rock and to shine the light He’s given me, brightly, in the places He has set me apart to make His glory known.

Thank You, Jesus, that You call the foolish of this world to shame the wise. Thank You that You call the weak of this world to confound the strong. Thank You that You call us, Your broken open vessels, to shine Your love brightly into the lives of those around us.

Father God, fill us with Your courage today to shine the light of Your love, where You call us to. Help us to turn away from the lies we hear that condemn us or those You are calling us to love. Help us instead to see Your reflection as we look into the mirror and as we look into the faces of those You have set before us.

Melt away our insecurities and fears in the truth of Your holy love for both us and for those you call us to bless. A love You expressed by pouring out the judgement each one of us deserved upon Your very own Son, so that we could be freed from our sin and shame, to run with joy into Your abundant life. Thank You, Father, for Your incredible sacrificial love, a love like no other.

Forgive us for the moments we have rested in the safe of our insecurities and fears. Help us not to be ashamed of our weakness or fearful in our inadequacies, but to lean into Your power in our weakness instead. Fill us with the faith to believe You at Your Word. To believe that You will perfect Your power in us, precisely in and through our weakness.

As our knees shake and our hearts tremble press us forward to do Your holy will. Awaken us in the light of Your loving countenance. Clothe us in Your holy love, wisdom, strength and grace. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

This is the fourth installment of Anna Smit’s personal testimony to the love and mercy of Jesus. These installments of her testimony are God’s answer to all of us who have walked a path of trauma and heartache, believing our God has abandoned us. For He has never ever forsaken us and He wants us to know it, and to see the fingerprints of the Cross – and His unending love for us – all over our lives. For the first installment see: Love Never Ends

One

Prodigals, Elder Sons
We never knew
It was You
Who stood beside us.

In our running
And our striving
Your hands even then
Held us One.

You: our Savior
Ever beckoning
For darkness 
Is as light to You.

Every moment seen
Felt and known 
Our every tear
Fear and care.

Knowing how
We'd turn away
Hiding in our pain 
Striving in fear.

Yet in every Prodigal
And Elder Brother
Eternal rest
Is sown.

For, pierced by Your own 
You carried our weakness
And sin to the Cross
For this.

Seeing what the Elder Son can't
You move toward the Prodigal
In his weakness yielded, not away
You hold out Your hand
And welcome him: Home.

Seeing what the Prodigal can't
You move to lift the Elder Son's
Heavy yoke long borne alone
You hold out Your hand
And welcome him: Home.

Rejected in our weakness
And striving to hide it
You turn us toward You
Truth kissing grace.

Calling us
In the breaking of the bread
To see Your heart reflected
In each others' tears.

For coated in mercy 
These broken vessels
Are now in Spirit breath
Receiving their new heart.

In the Father
Son and Holy Spirit
Beating
One.


John 17:20-21 (ESV) “I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.

In thankfulness to a God who united my Mum’s and my heart in His heart in her final weeks on earth. Bringing her home to His eternal rest, through His Holy breath, He awakened me to new life. Oh may He reveal the heart of the Father in each one of us and make us – His children – in the Father, Son and Holy Spirit – One.

Beautifully Resurrecting

Taken out of their midst
God asked him: "return"
And he full of fear cried:
"But what shall I tell them."

I AM WHO I AM

Drawn out of water
In a basket
Wonderfully and fearfully woven
God's people out of Egypt to lead.

Not his own merit
But the Voice
Of I AM WHO I AM
Slavery's heavy yoke would lift.

Not just his people's
But his very own heart
Breaking in mercy.

Into a desert
The Living Word led them
Rejected, spurned and maligned
The Spirit ever interceding.

The Promised land
Moses saw from afar
And trusted by faith
Would one day be his.

Through all the pain
Of the desert
Overshadowed in mercy
By day.

Through every failing
His heart aflame
In the jealous fire of God
By night.

And yet
In Moses' rebellion
His Promise was buried
On a mountain.

But to the mountain
Moses one day returned
With his I AM WHO I AM
Standing, before a Cross.

For, Christ walked
To the Cross
The joy set before Him
His children set free.

Sin and pain
In grace He exchanged
The Promise once buried
In Holy breath resurrected.

And now the seed of life
In all of God's children
Once buried
Shall yet rise to life.

For the Promise buried
Is not dead
But in Holy breath
Beautifully resurrecting.


Hebrews 11:23-29, 39-40 (ESV) By faith Moses, when he was born, was hidden for three months by his parents, because they saw that the child was beautiful, and they were not afraid of the king’s edict. By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward. By faith he left Egypt, not being afraid of the anger of the king, for he endured as seeing him who is invisible. By faith he kept the Passover and sprinkled the blood, so that the Destroyer of the firstborn might not touch them. By faith the people crossed the Red Sea as on dry land, but the Egyptians, when they attempted to do the same, were drowned . . . And all these, though commended through their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect.

Matthew 17: 1 – 3 (ESV) And after six days Jesus took with him Peter and James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became white as light. And behold, there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him.

Deuteronomy 33:18 – 19 (ESV) And of Zebulun he said, “Rejoice, Zebulun, in your going out,
    and Issachar, in your tents.
 They shall call peoples to their mountain;
    there they offer right sacrifices;
for they draw from the abundance of the seas
    and the hidden treasures of the sand.”

Isaiah 9:1 (ESV) Nevertheless, that time of darkness and despair will not go on forever. The land of Zebulun and Naphtali will be humbled, but there will be a time in the future when Galilee of the Gentiles, which lies along the road that runs between the Jordan and the sea, will be filled with glory.

Trembling Awe

Oh my heart
So worn, so torn
Emptied of all
No more to give.

Kneeling here
At these Your feet
What do I have
To offer You, my Lord.

"My child" I hear
Your gentle Voice
"Here at My feet
You have given all.

"An offering
Of poverty
But more
Than ever before.

"Shed here your clothes
Of old
Let me clothe you
In all newness of Life

"A living Hope
An inheritance
Imperishable
I am your crown.

"Behold, the new has come
Shed here the old
Arise in Me
Truth kissing grace.

"Stand in the light
Of My morning sun
Shining ever brighter
Till the full light of day.

"I have not left you orphaned
My Living Word
A lamp unto your feet
And a light unto your path.

"Behold
Do you not perceive it?
My way in the wilderness?
My rivers in the desert?

"For, my righteousness
Within I have forged
My burning fire all dross
In jealous love consuming.

"Refining
To silver
Testing
Unto gold.

"In My streams of life
Your trembling heart
Shall now rest
In my love One.

"My vine
Not in one, but each
And every season
Harvests.

"The rivers from my throne
Now streaming freely in you
Shall wash all devouring
And destroying tongues away.

"Here in my presence abiding
Your delight shall grow
In My delight
Abounding.

"My Spirit now revealing
A flood of beauty
All desires buried deep
Now powerfully unveiling.

"Promises true and pure
You shall speak
No longer in fear of man
But in trembling awe of Me.

"My Word in you
Not empty
But accomplished
Returning."

"In fruit for food
And leaves for healing
In My love abiding
And My life abounding."

Jeremiah 31:3
The LORD appeared to me from ages past saying, “I have loved you with an everlasting love; Therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn you and continued My faithfulness to you.

Psalm 16:2
. . . every good thing I have comes from you.

2 Peter 1:3
By His divine power, God has given us everything we need for living a godly life. We have received all of this by coming to know him, the one who called us to himself by means of his marvelous glory and excellence.

Into the Light

I still remember the excitement, the tears, the shouts for joy. A wall falling. A people reunited. A dictator executed. A people freed. I was nine years old and sitting in a West German classroom, the daughter of New Zealand missionaries in a time God’s miraculous power swept across the world and into my presence. 

Weeks later I’d be accompanying my family into Romania and meeting believers who welcomed us with such warmth and love. The joy of the LORD was palpable in our midst, as we sung in that enormous church, men one side, women with their heads covered on another. In incredible heartache and persecution the Romanian church had exploded in number, as a suffering and dying people were drawn like a magnet to the Living Hope that is Christ Jesus.

As I prayed through Isaiah 53:3-12, my eyes rested on verse 3:


“He was despised and rejected by men,
    a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
    he was despised, and we esteemed him not.”

and I wept. Because I saw how we, God’s children, have been walking in our Savior’s footsteps. But also because I was convicted that unlike my Savior and my Romanian brothers and sisters, I had chosen to clothe myself in lies, believing myself:

“stricken,
    smitten by God, and afflicted.”

I had carried my mental illness born in the wake of trauma, as a punishment, as something that defines my standing before God. But as I rested on:

“Surely he has borne our griefs
    and carried our sorrows”

I remembered the visions God gifted me in therapy. Visions of His presence in my most traumatic memories. Visions of His loving face, of His Words of truth piercing my hardened heart that had been locked tight in shame, unable to process, to grieve what was taken from me.

Of Him encouraging me to kick, scream, flail and cry for all that I had walked through. Of Him telling me He too is angry. And I then saw how walking to His Cross, He carried what was done to me. He carried my loss, my grief and my sorrow. And He also carried my sinful turning away, those moments I chose to clothe myself in lies.

He never ever left me, not even for a moment. Not even as I turned my back on Him for more than twenty long years. Yes:

“Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied;
by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant,
    make many to be accounted righteous,
    and he shall bear their iniquities.”

At His Cross He wept and cried: “Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do.” He forgave me.

“yet he bore the sin of many,
    and makes intercession for the transgressors.”

And by His grace, He is now empowering me also, just as He did my brothers and sisters in Romania, to arise and shine in the truth. To esteem Him, by wrapping myself in the truth and grace of the Cross.

“by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant,
    make many to be accounted righteous,”

No, mental and physical affliction do not define us. The Cross alone defines us. In the power of the Cross at work in us, we are dead to sin and alive to Christ. For “the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand”, in the hand of the One who lives and breathes in us. The One who has wrought justice at the Cross. The One who is now restoring all that the enemy thought he had stolen, killed and destroyed. 

The One who is now bringing redemption to Romania and her countless, abandoned by man and yet chosen of God children, like my little brother, who are now scattered around the world.

He is flaming His Word alive in us – His Body. From every nation, our lips shall give Him praise!

We, the esteemed and chosen men, women and children of God, filled with joy, ones toward whom God has turned His face are invited to let our incense – the prayers of our Savior in us – arise. For our Father longs to draw many more children unto glory through the power of His Son’s blood and His living testimony at work in us.

May we, who have known the horror of abuse, just like our Savior, stand with tears in our eyes. Not for our own pain, which our Messiah has redeemed at the Cross. But like Jesus, for the very ones who have wounded and afflicted us.

May we rise in the strength of our Savior’s heart and blood in us, to cry: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And may we walk forgiven and free of all fear and shame into the light.

Oh what an indescribable gift flows from the Cross. A place of deep suffering for our loving Savior. For us. For every single fibre of our bodies, minds, hearts and souls.

Oh may He make us those who do not hide the light of His love and grace toward us, but shine it brightly for all to see. For, “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (1 John 1:5, ESV). Praise Him!