To You I lift up my eyes, O You Who are enthroned in the heavens! Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master, as the eyes of a maidservant to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to the Lord our God, till He has mercy on us. (Verses 1-2)
But if the slave plainly says, "I love my master, my wife and my children; I will not go free," then his master shall bring him to God, and he shall bring him to the door or the doorpost. And his master shall bore his ear through with an awl, and he shall be his slave forever. Exodus 21
In sacrifice and offering You have not delighted, but You have pierced my ear. Psalm 40:6
One of those mornings for me. When I feel emptied. On more than one level of my life, I don't know what God is doing. My body functions the way it needs to, going about my day with meetings and phone calls, but my soul is stretched out before Him in quite another place. Like I left it on the floor this morning when I rose up from my prayer time. And throughout the day, when there is a moment, I join my soul there prostrate. I spent some time worshipping my God this morning, singing songs that, as I think about it now, I believe He was singing to me. Reminding me to look up. To take a deep breath. To joy in Him.
Exodus 21 gives the guidelines for the keeping of Hebrew slaves. The master of such a man can only keep the slave for six years. On the seventh, the slave is to be set free. If he came to the master without a wife, the slave leaves without one. If he had a wife, she may go with him. If the master gave the slave a wife, the wife and the children born to her belong to the master. The slave must leave alone. But if the slave loves his master, loves his family more than any particular freedom, he may stay forever in the master's home. When the slave declares his love for the Master, the Master and the slave make a vow to God. It is then that the servant is led to the doorpost where the slave's earlobe is stretched against the wooden post and pierced with an awl. The bloody ear of the slave a sign of love and submission.
My Master has, thus, pierced my ear. Called me to be His bondslave. To follow Him and obey. To listen to His instructions and do what He says whether I understand or not. This may sound strange to those who are slaves to something or someone else. But I've been set free from all that used to hold me hostage. And, trust me, I was a hostage. What drew me to this Master is His great love for me. Yes, Jesus asks me to go to work with Him. To plow up not only the fields of my own heart, but to take the hoe to less fertile ground in an effort to introduce the vast enslaved to His great kingdom. I am called to trust my God's wisdom and subjugate my own will to His, knowing Jesus will never abuse me or strip me of my dignity. Never task me with a chore He isn't yoked together with me to finish. I love my Master and choose to stay with Him.
That doesn't mean that sometimes, from my less wise position, I don't look into His eyes and try to find some understanding there. To lock His gaze and peer more deeply for a while in the hope I find in their depths a panacea for pain or a pattern for my perplexity. Wanting without words to absorb the Master's calm. To make it mine just by looking on His face. And here is the beautiful thing about the One I serve. He peers back at me. Searches my gaze. Touches my face. Assures me, even in my confusion, that He is prescient--all-wise. "Follow Me." The wordless command. "There is today to do." And I will not know where I am going if I don't look at the Master.
This piercing I wear--the mark of my following after Jesus--cost me only the submission of my life to Him. It is how those around me know I am a slave of my own free will. Most masters, however, are not marked by such a scar. They have not bought with their own flesh the hearts of their slaves. The One I serve paid for my freedom--with His life. The scars are evident in His hands and feet and side. Today I work side by side with a Master so in love with me that buying me back from my former masters was His greatest joy. I am reminded that, no matter where we dig today, what field we plow or wall we repair, what river we dredge or plants we water, my greatest joy will be that I belong to Him. My ear is pierced. Let's get to work.
But if the slave plainly says, "I love my master, my wife and my children; I will not go free," then his master shall bring him to God, and he shall bring him to the door or the doorpost. And his master shall bore his ear through with an awl, and he shall be his slave forever. Exodus 21
In sacrifice and offering You have not delighted, but You have pierced my ear. Psalm 40:6
One of those mornings for me. When I feel emptied. On more than one level of my life, I don't know what God is doing. My body functions the way it needs to, going about my day with meetings and phone calls, but my soul is stretched out before Him in quite another place. Like I left it on the floor this morning when I rose up from my prayer time. And throughout the day, when there is a moment, I join my soul there prostrate. I spent some time worshipping my God this morning, singing songs that, as I think about it now, I believe He was singing to me. Reminding me to look up. To take a deep breath. To joy in Him.
Exodus 21 gives the guidelines for the keeping of Hebrew slaves. The master of such a man can only keep the slave for six years. On the seventh, the slave is to be set free. If he came to the master without a wife, the slave leaves without one. If he had a wife, she may go with him. If the master gave the slave a wife, the wife and the children born to her belong to the master. The slave must leave alone. But if the slave loves his master, loves his family more than any particular freedom, he may stay forever in the master's home. When the slave declares his love for the Master, the Master and the slave make a vow to God. It is then that the servant is led to the doorpost where the slave's earlobe is stretched against the wooden post and pierced with an awl. The bloody ear of the slave a sign of love and submission.
My Master has, thus, pierced my ear. Called me to be His bondslave. To follow Him and obey. To listen to His instructions and do what He says whether I understand or not. This may sound strange to those who are slaves to something or someone else. But I've been set free from all that used to hold me hostage. And, trust me, I was a hostage. What drew me to this Master is His great love for me. Yes, Jesus asks me to go to work with Him. To plow up not only the fields of my own heart, but to take the hoe to less fertile ground in an effort to introduce the vast enslaved to His great kingdom. I am called to trust my God's wisdom and subjugate my own will to His, knowing Jesus will never abuse me or strip me of my dignity. Never task me with a chore He isn't yoked together with me to finish. I love my Master and choose to stay with Him.
That doesn't mean that sometimes, from my less wise position, I don't look into His eyes and try to find some understanding there. To lock His gaze and peer more deeply for a while in the hope I find in their depths a panacea for pain or a pattern for my perplexity. Wanting without words to absorb the Master's calm. To make it mine just by looking on His face. And here is the beautiful thing about the One I serve. He peers back at me. Searches my gaze. Touches my face. Assures me, even in my confusion, that He is prescient--all-wise. "Follow Me." The wordless command. "There is today to do." And I will not know where I am going if I don't look at the Master.
This piercing I wear--the mark of my following after Jesus--cost me only the submission of my life to Him. It is how those around me know I am a slave of my own free will. Most masters, however, are not marked by such a scar. They have not bought with their own flesh the hearts of their slaves. The One I serve paid for my freedom--with His life. The scars are evident in His hands and feet and side. Today I work side by side with a Master so in love with me that buying me back from my former masters was His greatest joy. I am reminded that, no matter where we dig today, what field we plow or wall we repair, what river we dredge or plants we water, my greatest joy will be that I belong to Him. My ear is pierced. Let's get to work.
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