Take it All

Sometimes trouble shakes you.

Sometimes it knocks you off your feet.

I believe that all trouble, whatever its size and regardless of its result, is a part of a much bigger plan.

If you are a child of God, asking for bread doesn’t bring stones.  The Creator of good is totally capable of bring it about.

He promised to do that (Rom. 8:28).

He said that though the earth tremble and give way, we have nothing to fear (Ps. 46:1-3).

He said that though the righteous man fall seven times, he will rise (Prov. 24:16).

And He said that He rules the raging sea and stills the crashing waves (Ps. 89:9).

Do you know these promises?  Does your heart ache because you don’t see them fulfilled?  Maybe you are shaken today.  Maybe you fell.  Maybe you think you have ugly stones in response to your prayers for mercy and justice.  Maybe your greatest desire in the world is to see the promises you profess come to fruition, and maybe your greatest fear in the world is that somehow they won’t.

Well, I think the disciples stood there too.  On the darkest day in world history, they stood at the foot of Calvary and saw their Master and Friend stretched out on the Cross, dying, saying “It is finished”.  Generations had waited in faith for His appearing.  And He had come – preaching with authority, healing with power, performing great miracles, glorifying His Father, speaking truth to men.  Hundreds of miles of dusty roads these disciples had followed Him.  They ate with Him and drank with Him.  He taught them, He stilled the storm that would drown them, He commissioned them, called them to take up their Cross and follow Him.  Then, He was unjustly accused and killed before their eyes.  The Savior of the World was slain.  It seemed His promises were dying with Him.  His friends couldn’t stop the evil, they couldn’t stop the pain, they couldn’t understand what was happening.  They thought it was all over.

Ah, but they did not know.  They did not know that His death was the only way that the world could be saved.  They didn’t know that it was the plan all along.  They didn’t know that His death would pave the way for the resurrection, and redemption and access to eternal hope for all mankind.

That day, they didn’t know one simple thing: the story was not over.

So it is with us.  Our story is not over.

If we believe the Gospel is mighty enough to change our eternal destination, then we must believe that it is mighty enough to give purpose and hope to our painful, inexplicable circumstances as we await our eternal hope.

Our security is based in what Jesus did, and what He promised for eternity – not in what we see with our eyes.  The quaking, the falling, the stones, the shattered dreams, the graveyards, the defeats, the pains, the losses, the empty places – these are not the end of the story.  They are reminders to take deliberate action: fix your eyes on what is unseen.  (2 Cor. 4:18)  They are reminders that our Savior did not stay in a tomb, but burst forth.  We already know the end of the story; we have the promise of eternity delighting in what He accomplished.

“We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.” (2 Cor. 4:8-9)  These words were written two thousand years ago.  Nothing has changed.  It is the way of the Master.  It is the trail the faithful have blazed for us.  It’s what God has called us to.

You are not alone in your pain.  Neither do you have an excuse to whine because of it.

He called us to take up our Cross.  To face the flame.  To crucify our desires.  To exalt Him only.  To be willing to be as nothing in the world.  To embrace persecution.  To acknowledge His lordship.  To say, “It is well.”  “For this light and momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen.  For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” (2 Cor. 4:17-18)  We know that we too will burst forth at the end.  We will be more than conquerors.

But, there is something in us that hates to be broken.  There is pride that isn’t willing to admit defeat and despair.  There is a love of success that doesn’t want to be empty handed.  There is a demanding spirit that says “mine” about life and refuses to accept God’s gifts.  There is a shirking of the Cross, a running from the battle line, a “give me what I want or I will blame you and shrivel in the corner.”

What do you want?

That is the question.

Do you want what God wants?  Do you want Him to decide how He will glorify Himself in you, or do you want to choose your own way?  Do you want Him to require you to lay your life down, or do you want to clinch it with both hands?  Do you want Him to work through your waiting, or do you want Him to hurry up and do what you long for?  Do you want Him to conform you to the image of His Son, or do you want Him to give you a happy, fun time?

Do you want Him?  Do you want His glory?  Do you want His renown to be the desire of you heart?

If not, be reconciled to God.  Repent.

If so, rejoice.

Because He will not let you choose your own way.  He will make you relinquish your grip on what you think is your rightful claim.  He will exchange your longings for His perfect will.  He will teach you real joy.  He’ll glorify Himself through your surrender.  He will make His renown the desire of your heart.

He does this through fire.  It is His purpose.  He will not make a mistake.

So our joy is doubled.

We have a future joy in the expectation of heaven, total perfection, the absence of sin, purity of worship.

And we have a present joy knowing that if we truly possess the future joy, we can be 100% certain that God is working through out present trials to give us what we want: Him, His glory, His kingdom, His will, and every knee bowing before Him.

Take it all, Lord.  It belongs to You anyway.  Every joy and trial, every victory and loss.  Every day and hour, every hope and dashed dream.  Teach us to delight not that the spirits are subject to us, but that our names are written in heaven.  (Luke 10:20)  Teach us to rejoice.



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