During worship practice, we sang a hymn that I've known since I was a little girl. It's one I know well, but today God used the familiar words to speak comfort and encouragement to my heart:

Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation!
O my soul, praise Him, for He is thy health and salvation!
All ye who hear, now to his temple draw near;
praise Him in glad adoration.

Praise to the Lord, who o'er all things so wondrously reigneth,
shelters thee under His wings, yea, so gently sustaineth!
Hast thou not seen how thy desires e'er have been
granted in what He ordaineth?

Praise to the Lord, Who doth prosper thy work and defend thee;
surely His goodness and mercy here daily attend thee.
Ponder anew what the Almighty can do,
if with His love He befriend thee.

Praise to the Lord, O let all that is in me adore Him!
All that hath life and breath, come now with praises before Him.
Let the amen sound from His people again,
gladly for aye we adore Him.

- Joachim Neander (1650-1680)

pursuit and response

I'm slowly working my way through The Pursuit of God by A. W. Tozer. It's a book I had to read in one night or so for a Theology class, so I've been wanting to revisit it and take the time to actually process what it says (instead of skimming it through just to grab some supporting evidence for an essay worth 50 points).

His first sentence hit me in the gut. "Christian theology teaches the doctrine of prevenient grace, which, briefly stated, means that before a man can seek God, God must first have sought the man. ... We pursue God because, and only because, He has first put an urge within us that spurs us to the pursuit."

There you have it. My first big lesson of the week: He started it. God did, I mean.

We're not chasing after a God that runs away from us. We hunger and thirst for Him because He put the desire in us. When dealing with other people, it can be easy for me to let my confidence slip if I'm not sure of where I stand. I'll put off or avoid calling or writing friends because that nagging voice creeps in: why am I assuming that these people actually want to talk to me? I wonder. My brain knows better than to buy into those lies, but sometimes that insecurity lingers in my heart. That's what's so beautiful about the pursuit of God: He called me first, and I can eagerly and wholeheartedly respond to His love because I know beyond a doubt where I stand with Him: I am loved. I am desired. I can approach the throne of grace with confidence (Heb. 4:16), knowing that the God who bade me seek His face (Ps. 27:8) will hear and answer my cry to know Him more (1 John 5:14-15).

Which leads into the second major lesson that I gleaned from Chapter One: "There is little that we need other than God himself. ... Lift up thine heart unto God with a meek stirring of love; and mean Himself, and none of his goods."

Ahhh, Tozer. You're piercing my heart. I know that this is true, yet often I find myself seeking the goods instead of seeking God. It is so easy to surrender all of my time to the "important" tasks that really don't matter: preparing a Sunday School or Youth Group lesson, nailing down those Car Rally details, printing off lyrics for worship practice. I'm doing all this for God, right? But he doesn't want me to just do things for Him. He wants me to do things with Him. I want so badly to have a heart that longs for and delights in God alone, and is content with knowing Him instead of trying to achieve and perform. But so often I feel like I don't even know what that looks like. He's calling me to Him... but whenever I try to "quiet down my busy mind and find a hiding place," the to-do lists only scream louder, clamoring for my time and attention. Usually I divert my attention as requested; I can cross one more item off of "the list," but I haven't spent any time with my Savior. Exactly what I don't need.

I'll end this particular musing with Tozer's prayer, because it echoes very eloquently the longing of my heart.

O God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need of further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. O God, the Triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy glory, I pray Thee, that so I may know Thee indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, "Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away." Then give me grace to rise and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long.
In Jesus' name.
Amen.

sustained silent sunday school

The inevitable has occurred: I've finally gotten sick. The sleep deprivation, frequent contact with sniffly kids, and failure to drink the recommended eight 8-oz glasses of water per day has caused my immune system to finally crack. I'm spending the afternoon in bed sleeping, crocheting, reading, and drinking tea. I'm achy, my head is pounding, and my throat is an odd combination of phlegmy and scratchy. Gotta love it.

It's always amazing to me, however, how God picks the moments when we're at our worst to show us what He's capable of. One of my duties right now is to teach the middle school Sunday School class. I didn't have a great lesson planned this morning; all I really wanted to do was use my voice as little as possible and stay as far away from the kids as I could. So I printed off copies of Psalm 27 and handed them out along with a blank sheet of paper. I spaced the students out across the room and told them to read through the Psalm a couple of times, then take about a half an hour to respond to it. They could write, draw, whatever- as long as they were responding in some way to the Psalm.

After a half-hour of near-silence (which, I'm telling you, is quite amazing for this bunch), they returned to the circle and we shared what we did. I was completely blown away. One girl - a sixth grader - had gone through and highlighted the whole Psalm, color-coding it so that lines with a similar meaning had the same color. She then drew a picture, using the colors so that the elements of the picture corresponded to the elements in the Psalm. That's the kind of dissection that I did in my college classes. When I asked her about it, she said that was the first time she'd ever read anything that way. Another guy, a seventh-grader, drew a picture of David falling down towards his enemies, with God's hands in the middle waiting to catch him. He drew holes in God's hands to show that God is Jesus.

It was exciting to see their responses. The initial reaction - which I had expected - was one of confused skepticism. Did I really expect them to sit quietly for a whole half hour?! But by the end, they all came up with great stuff. I only told you about two of them, but the other kids had great drawings and writings, too. And they were all enthusiastic about sharing what they had come up with. I loved it. I handed them the page, stepped out of the way, and let God's word do its thing.

"For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart." -Hebrews 4:12, ESV