But for me, it is good to be near God. I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all Your works. (Verse 28)
Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. James 4
Only a few hours ago I sat cuddled next to Alexander on the couch at my daughter's Virginia home. It was cold and rainy outside, so we built a fire in the fireplace, wrapped ourselves in Alex's blanket and read the book of Ruth together out of the new Bible I got for him at the bookstore earlier in the day. A first-grader, my grandson reads like a pro. I beamed with pride at both his comprehension skills and his choice of reading material. I love the little guy so much. Today I miss the warmth of his body, the lilt of his voice, the smell of his hair, the look in his eyes....I miss being near to him. It is good to be with Alexander.
And, for me, it is good in the same way to be near my God. In my prayer time this morning, with tears in my eyes, I say what I say pretty much every day, "Father, don't leave me today. Be near. I can't live without You." Oh, I can exist. For sure. I can go through the motions of life, but really live? No. I have been in a faraway land, spiritually speaking, and know what it's like to miss my Father. To reminisce about the times we used to have. To watch others interact with Him in the way I once did. But I'd lost contact. In the quiet of the night, I would try to conjure what it felt like to talk with my Abba intimately, trusting that He heard. It was as if I had moved to the middle of the Mojave without a tent and could only remember a rushing river and the lush greenness of a peaceful pasture. That was from a different world and I was lost. Thirsty and dry, I yearned for long draughts of living water only faintly remembering its sweetness.
Lazarus had been dead for four days. His body was decomposing and he stank. Jesus was away when the brother of Mary and Martha died. Though the family called for Jesus to come, He waited. For the bigger miracle of raising Lazarus from the dead. But they wanted Jesus to be near. Right there at the bedside. When Jesus didn't show up when they thought He should, they lost a little faith in Him. Why had he not come? Didn't He care about them any more? If You'd only been here, our brother wouldn't have died. The reassurance of His touch. The joy of Jesus sitting in their home eating their food and laughing with them. The sound of His voice. His nearness was important. Because when Jesus comes close, things change. Mary at His feet, listening to the Word of God speak. When He's there, a refuge from the wracking winsomeness of the world, we know everything's gonna be all right. With her brother back, living and breathing, alive and well, Mary rejoices that Lazarus eats, sleeps, prays and works at the house again. Every day she rises to see his face, not decaying and gone, but restored and new. The joy of it is priceless.
When Passover approached that year, Jesus came to see this family He loved so much. They had a dinner party and invited friends over to be with Jesus. Lots of food, I'm sure, that Martha made in her fussy kitchen. Wine and conversation. Less than a week before Jesus wouldn't be near again. Less than a week before the feet Mary decided to anoint with a half liter of very expensive fragrant oil would carry Jesus out of Jerusalem on a dusty road to His death. But she looked forward to this meal. Jesus at her house. How to show Him her grateful heart? Break the alabaster jar of sweet perfume, pour its anointing slipperiness onto the arch of His foot, bathing toes and ankles in the aroma of thankfulness. Touching Jesus in His nearness. Not understanding He would never be with her quite like this again. The salt of her tears mixing with the nard. Thank You for being here when we needed You. And she wiped the residue with the strands of her hair.
In my wilderness, I was never alone. I just hadn't invited Jesus to my party in a long time. No dinner ready for Him. I ate with disappointment and disillusionment. Not very good company. But when I got hungry enough....thirsty enough...all I wanted was to sit on the couch with Jesus again and listen to His words, feel the touch of His hand and anoint His feet in thankfulness that my Friend would journey to my desert so I wouldn't have to be alone.
Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. James 4
Only a few hours ago I sat cuddled next to Alexander on the couch at my daughter's Virginia home. It was cold and rainy outside, so we built a fire in the fireplace, wrapped ourselves in Alex's blanket and read the book of Ruth together out of the new Bible I got for him at the bookstore earlier in the day. A first-grader, my grandson reads like a pro. I beamed with pride at both his comprehension skills and his choice of reading material. I love the little guy so much. Today I miss the warmth of his body, the lilt of his voice, the smell of his hair, the look in his eyes....I miss being near to him. It is good to be with Alexander.
And, for me, it is good in the same way to be near my God. In my prayer time this morning, with tears in my eyes, I say what I say pretty much every day, "Father, don't leave me today. Be near. I can't live without You." Oh, I can exist. For sure. I can go through the motions of life, but really live? No. I have been in a faraway land, spiritually speaking, and know what it's like to miss my Father. To reminisce about the times we used to have. To watch others interact with Him in the way I once did. But I'd lost contact. In the quiet of the night, I would try to conjure what it felt like to talk with my Abba intimately, trusting that He heard. It was as if I had moved to the middle of the Mojave without a tent and could only remember a rushing river and the lush greenness of a peaceful pasture. That was from a different world and I was lost. Thirsty and dry, I yearned for long draughts of living water only faintly remembering its sweetness.
Lazarus had been dead for four days. His body was decomposing and he stank. Jesus was away when the brother of Mary and Martha died. Though the family called for Jesus to come, He waited. For the bigger miracle of raising Lazarus from the dead. But they wanted Jesus to be near. Right there at the bedside. When Jesus didn't show up when they thought He should, they lost a little faith in Him. Why had he not come? Didn't He care about them any more? If You'd only been here, our brother wouldn't have died. The reassurance of His touch. The joy of Jesus sitting in their home eating their food and laughing with them. The sound of His voice. His nearness was important. Because when Jesus comes close, things change. Mary at His feet, listening to the Word of God speak. When He's there, a refuge from the wracking winsomeness of the world, we know everything's gonna be all right. With her brother back, living and breathing, alive and well, Mary rejoices that Lazarus eats, sleeps, prays and works at the house again. Every day she rises to see his face, not decaying and gone, but restored and new. The joy of it is priceless.
When Passover approached that year, Jesus came to see this family He loved so much. They had a dinner party and invited friends over to be with Jesus. Lots of food, I'm sure, that Martha made in her fussy kitchen. Wine and conversation. Less than a week before Jesus wouldn't be near again. Less than a week before the feet Mary decided to anoint with a half liter of very expensive fragrant oil would carry Jesus out of Jerusalem on a dusty road to His death. But she looked forward to this meal. Jesus at her house. How to show Him her grateful heart? Break the alabaster jar of sweet perfume, pour its anointing slipperiness onto the arch of His foot, bathing toes and ankles in the aroma of thankfulness. Touching Jesus in His nearness. Not understanding He would never be with her quite like this again. The salt of her tears mixing with the nard. Thank You for being here when we needed You. And she wiped the residue with the strands of her hair.
In my wilderness, I was never alone. I just hadn't invited Jesus to my party in a long time. No dinner ready for Him. I ate with disappointment and disillusionment. Not very good company. But when I got hungry enough....thirsty enough...all I wanted was to sit on the couch with Jesus again and listen to His words, feel the touch of His hand and anoint His feet in thankfulness that my Friend would journey to my desert so I wouldn't have to be alone.
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