I've been reading through the book of Daniel the past few days. It's about this guy named Daniel (who would've guessed?!). He's mostly remembered for that one time he was thrown in a den of lions (yikes), or for his three friends Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego (or shake-the-bed, make-the-bed and to-bed-we-go as a pastor once put it). Reading through this book has opened my eyes. A lot of the time we like to tell bed time stories and make cartoon characters out of people in the bible- and that's great and important, amen. But now that I'm a little older, I'm realizing that there are much more to these characters then just good stories.
Daniel, for example. He loved God big. In every presented opportunity where he could easily take all of the credit for himself, he didn't. I want to do that. Too often, I subconsciously shove God aside and push myself into the spot light. As if that does any good. In chapter 10 Daniel has [another] vision. It leaves him terrified. Then he sees someone whose description is quite mind blowing [read all of chapter 10 to find out more]. Scholars debate whether Daniel was seeing Jesus or an angel. My soul wants to believe that it was Jesus. Because the fact that He would really, truly go through time and space for people He loves makes my heart do a little flip. Anyways, angel or Jesus is too holy for Daniel. And the pureness of it all makes him weak. It makes Daniel faint and fall flat on his face. I would be like that, too. We all would I think. When we small humans are confronted with holiness, it wipes us out because lets face it: we aren't holy or righteous.
By the man's command, Daniel gets to his feet, still trembling, shaking, scared and weak. The man touches him- this scene leaves me in awe- and Daniel's strength returns. "Don't be afraid," the man says "for you are deeply loved by God."
That's my heart. That's what I want.
Sometimes I like to think I'm Wonder Woman or something. I like to picture myself dressed in a fantastic costume facing giants who have threatened to beat me down my whole life. I like to picture myself stamping out every lie and painful word I've ever heard with nothing but my own two feet and strong will. Sometimes I like to think that I could face anything. Truthfully, I can't. Truthfully, I can't face a single thing on my own. I can't get out of bed or take a breath on my own. I've got no power in and of myself. And so much more often then not, I stand like Daniel. I may not have angels visibly at my door, but I kneel, small, in front of circumstances, trembling, shaking, scared, weak. And in a world that promises so much but delivers so little, I want something solid to stand on. In the midst of a storm I want to hear "don't be afraid, baby girl. You're loved big time. You're loved so loud by God. You can breathe now. You can stand now. You're loved by the One and only who delivers on all He promises." In the midst of a life that can cause both pain and celebration in the same day, I want someone to tap me on the shoulder, look me in the eye and say "You're okay now. Jesus loves you deep. Get strength from that."
Because isn't that what all of our souls want? A love that's strong enough to make our shaky knees stop banging together? A love that gives us muscle for the weak times? A love that makes us feel known. In a world where retweets and likes and shares define your popularity status, I think we're all craving the feeling of being known. We rally together and hold big signs and fight for human rights because, sure, it's what's right but I think part of us does it so we can feel strong. So we can be remembered. So we can have something that's just worth it.
I don't know what signs you hold up or what words you shout out. I don't know what monsters try to crush you daily or what you face when you wake up. I've got no ideas what fears knock on your doors or what makes your hands tremble in an 80-year-old-grandma style. And I have no idea if an angel or Jesus is going to show up physically in front of you and tell you that you're deeply loved. So instead, I'm gonna do it. For now anyways. Here I am. Tapping on your shoulder. Whispering into that achy, wandering, restless, adventurous heart of yours- "You are loved deeply. You are loved big and loud and deep and wide. You're loved, kid. You're so loved."
Find strength in that. Stand on that.
Daniel, for example. He loved God big. In every presented opportunity where he could easily take all of the credit for himself, he didn't. I want to do that. Too often, I subconsciously shove God aside and push myself into the spot light. As if that does any good. In chapter 10 Daniel has [another] vision. It leaves him terrified. Then he sees someone whose description is quite mind blowing [read all of chapter 10 to find out more]. Scholars debate whether Daniel was seeing Jesus or an angel. My soul wants to believe that it was Jesus. Because the fact that He would really, truly go through time and space for people He loves makes my heart do a little flip. Anyways, angel or Jesus is too holy for Daniel. And the pureness of it all makes him weak. It makes Daniel faint and fall flat on his face. I would be like that, too. We all would I think. When we small humans are confronted with holiness, it wipes us out because lets face it: we aren't holy or righteous.
By the man's command, Daniel gets to his feet, still trembling, shaking, scared and weak. The man touches him- this scene leaves me in awe- and Daniel's strength returns. "Don't be afraid," the man says "for you are deeply loved by God."
That's my heart. That's what I want.
Sometimes I like to think I'm Wonder Woman or something. I like to picture myself dressed in a fantastic costume facing giants who have threatened to beat me down my whole life. I like to picture myself stamping out every lie and painful word I've ever heard with nothing but my own two feet and strong will. Sometimes I like to think that I could face anything. Truthfully, I can't. Truthfully, I can't face a single thing on my own. I can't get out of bed or take a breath on my own. I've got no power in and of myself. And so much more often then not, I stand like Daniel. I may not have angels visibly at my door, but I kneel, small, in front of circumstances, trembling, shaking, scared, weak. And in a world that promises so much but delivers so little, I want something solid to stand on. In the midst of a storm I want to hear "don't be afraid, baby girl. You're loved big time. You're loved so loud by God. You can breathe now. You can stand now. You're loved by the One and only who delivers on all He promises." In the midst of a life that can cause both pain and celebration in the same day, I want someone to tap me on the shoulder, look me in the eye and say "You're okay now. Jesus loves you deep. Get strength from that."
Because isn't that what all of our souls want? A love that's strong enough to make our shaky knees stop banging together? A love that gives us muscle for the weak times? A love that makes us feel known. In a world where retweets and likes and shares define your popularity status, I think we're all craving the feeling of being known. We rally together and hold big signs and fight for human rights because, sure, it's what's right but I think part of us does it so we can feel strong. So we can be remembered. So we can have something that's just worth it.
I don't know what signs you hold up or what words you shout out. I don't know what monsters try to crush you daily or what you face when you wake up. I've got no ideas what fears knock on your doors or what makes your hands tremble in an 80-year-old-grandma style. And I have no idea if an angel or Jesus is going to show up physically in front of you and tell you that you're deeply loved. So instead, I'm gonna do it. For now anyways. Here I am. Tapping on your shoulder. Whispering into that achy, wandering, restless, adventurous heart of yours- "You are loved deeply. You are loved big and loud and deep and wide. You're loved, kid. You're so loved."
Find strength in that. Stand on that.