February 2nd, 2016
I have been staring at this screen for three days. I mean, not literally. I have to pee, eat, sleep. Play some rounds of hide and go seek. Teach my girls how to square dance. Do some dishes. Cuddle with the cutest 10 month old babe on the planet.
But in my hearts eye, I have been staring at this screen for three days.
Give me a word, God. Tell me what to write. Open something up to me. I asked Him for three days.
Today, I read the book of Nehemiah and the book of Esther. I sat down at my kitchen table with sunlight streaming in the windows, a coffee cup in my hands and fresh bread in front of me. I wasn't thinking about this blog post. I just realized that in three days the only time I read God's Word was in my morning and evening devotionals. Devotionals can be such a tricky slope- we can make them our only time with God. As if two minutes and letters someone else wrote is better than the rich scriptures and the God of the universe. Devotionals are tricky because they take away our guilt, too. Did you spend time with God today, Annika? Why yes I did. I can answer. I read a devotional by Spurgeon before I even brushed my teeth this morning.
That's what I've done the past few days.
But this afternoon I was thirsty. I was hungry. I felt parched.
I had walked into my room and seen my bible on my bed and my need to hear God's voice slammed into me like a ton of bricks.
As I was walking into the living room, my friend Fri (pronounced Free) was walking out of her bedroom with her bible in her hands. I need to read. She told me. I feel so empty and dark and lonely if I'm not feeding on the bible every day. I have three kids and sometimes they take up all my time. I can't even take care of them right unless I read this book.
So that's how I ended up sitting down for two straight hours and reading. And crying. I cried for the first time that I can ever remember while reading the bible. I got to Nehemiah 8 and 9 and didn't notice I was crying until I realized my cheeks were wet.
So were theirs. The people in Nehemiah 8 and 9. They were weeping. This book deals with people rebuilding the wall of Jerusalem. The Israelites had been exiled for a long time and were finally allowed to return back to their homeland. Their exile had been beause of their rebellion against a holy and good God. A God who had chosen them as His people. Who had loved and cared for them and protected them. They, as a response, continually forgot about Him. They were always doing the opposite of what He said. But now, because that same God is merciful and loving- they have returned to their land. They're back in Jerusalem.
In chapter 8, Nehemiah and Ezra and some Levites are reading from the Book of the Law of Moses (essentially, their bible then) and helping the people understand what's being said. The Israelites, in turn, are wailing.
Why don't I wail, God?
Because you don't understand who I am.
And then my cheeks were wet. I don't think God meant those 7 words as a slap across my cheek. Because the next thing I heard?
I want you to understand who I am.
I reached my fingers up and try to swipe at the tears.
Me too, Lord. I whisper in my heart. I want to understand who You are. I think if I could understand that, if I could grasp the immensity, the kindness, the mercy, the seriousness of God... I might cry more. I might love more. I might live better.
Here's the truth: my life is dark. I never want to throw up some missionary illusion and make anyone think I have it all together. Truth is, I desire stuff over God somedays. Somedays my temper errupts and I get so tired of Anna crying. Somedays the girls ask me to play with them and I say no. Somedays I know I should do the dishes for Fri, but I am so dang tired that I flop onto my bed instead. I have this really horrible heart. There are times when I would rather watch TV instead of pray. There have been times where my frustration takes over and I pound out five miles in my running shoes instead of getting on my knees. I'm so imperfect.
I have always found my way back to God, though. Or, God has dragged me back to Himself. And yet, I never wail. I never weep. I never cry. I get myself positioned in front of The Lord, fix my eyes, and just sit there. Nothing changes. The next day I still choose something over God.
Nehemiah 8:9b. The people were weeping. They got to hear God's word (which we can read every day, might I add), and they were torn apart at it. Sometimes I go days without really reading the bible. When I finally read it again, I have a lot of slip ups to confess. When I finally reposition my eyes on God, I have a lot of things that need to be dealt with in my soul. More often than not, I don't really care. More often than I care to admit, I read the bible or pray because I just want to not be guilty. Not because I want to spend time with God. Not because my heart is right or pure.
But today? I cried.
I pictured myself standing at those walls of Jerusalem. I heard Ezra, Nehemiah, the Levites, reading out the word of the Law of Moses and I understood. I understood God. And because I finally understood Him, my cheeks were finally salty. In chapter 9, the Israelites take turns confessing their sins and then praising God.
I don't wail in front of God because I don't realize the gravity of my sin. I don't realize that I've thrown out, spit on and trampled over the things that God says. Most days, I don't realize that I'm unworthy and small.
Chances are, you don't either. Chances are, you don't wail.
So I am going to invite you to the walls of Jerusalem.
Maybe you've been in exile. Maybe it's been weeks, months, years since you've picked up your bible. Maybe you've gone after things of this world. Maybe you had too much alcohol, taken the wrong risks, turned your back on the wrong people. Maybe you gave up. Maybe the hinges to your prayer door are rusty. Maybe your soul feels full of cobwebs. Maybe you forgot about the cross. Maybe you're just so tired and your feet are so sore and you just finally want rest.
Come to the walls of Jerusalem.
There's hope, here, you know. There's freedom here. There's liberty in these passages. No matter what you've done or where you've wandered- it is not worse than the Israelites. Did you make a golden calf of idolatry? Are you too caught up on money? Your sin isn't too big. Your journey isn't too far. The Israelites wandered from God so much that they were embarassed to think about it. Their stack of sin was so tall they couldn't see the top, anymore. But you know what?
God brought them back.
Back to their city. Back to safety. Back to their homeland.
Come to the walls of Jerusalem, beloved. Come on. It's where God will whisper that He is strong enough, smart enough, merciful enough, loving enough, to win you back. But when you get there... When you get here... When you walk up to these walls with me- I hope you cry. I hope you weep. I'll do so with you. At these walls, when you reach them at last, confess your sin. Read the bible. Hear the words. Listen to the fact that you have done wrong and messed up. You're so unworthy. You so don't deserve this. You so don't deserve your homeland. You so don't deserve safety.
Yet here at these brick walls it is all offered to you freely.
I hope you cry. I hope you weep. First for how big your offences are. And secondly as you realize that He loves you anyways.
He loves you anyways.
Go and tell the world. Go and invite them to the walls of Jerusalem.
I have been staring at this screen for three days. I mean, not literally. I have to pee, eat, sleep. Play some rounds of hide and go seek. Teach my girls how to square dance. Do some dishes. Cuddle with the cutest 10 month old babe on the planet.
But in my hearts eye, I have been staring at this screen for three days.
Give me a word, God. Tell me what to write. Open something up to me. I asked Him for three days.
Today, I read the book of Nehemiah and the book of Esther. I sat down at my kitchen table with sunlight streaming in the windows, a coffee cup in my hands and fresh bread in front of me. I wasn't thinking about this blog post. I just realized that in three days the only time I read God's Word was in my morning and evening devotionals. Devotionals can be such a tricky slope- we can make them our only time with God. As if two minutes and letters someone else wrote is better than the rich scriptures and the God of the universe. Devotionals are tricky because they take away our guilt, too. Did you spend time with God today, Annika? Why yes I did. I can answer. I read a devotional by Spurgeon before I even brushed my teeth this morning.
That's what I've done the past few days.
But this afternoon I was thirsty. I was hungry. I felt parched.
I had walked into my room and seen my bible on my bed and my need to hear God's voice slammed into me like a ton of bricks.
As I was walking into the living room, my friend Fri (pronounced Free) was walking out of her bedroom with her bible in her hands. I need to read. She told me. I feel so empty and dark and lonely if I'm not feeding on the bible every day. I have three kids and sometimes they take up all my time. I can't even take care of them right unless I read this book.
So that's how I ended up sitting down for two straight hours and reading. And crying. I cried for the first time that I can ever remember while reading the bible. I got to Nehemiah 8 and 9 and didn't notice I was crying until I realized my cheeks were wet.
So were theirs. The people in Nehemiah 8 and 9. They were weeping. This book deals with people rebuilding the wall of Jerusalem. The Israelites had been exiled for a long time and were finally allowed to return back to their homeland. Their exile had been beause of their rebellion against a holy and good God. A God who had chosen them as His people. Who had loved and cared for them and protected them. They, as a response, continually forgot about Him. They were always doing the opposite of what He said. But now, because that same God is merciful and loving- they have returned to their land. They're back in Jerusalem.
In chapter 8, Nehemiah and Ezra and some Levites are reading from the Book of the Law of Moses (essentially, their bible then) and helping the people understand what's being said. The Israelites, in turn, are wailing.
Why don't I wail, God?
Because you don't understand who I am.
And then my cheeks were wet. I don't think God meant those 7 words as a slap across my cheek. Because the next thing I heard?
I want you to understand who I am.
I reached my fingers up and try to swipe at the tears.
Me too, Lord. I whisper in my heart. I want to understand who You are. I think if I could understand that, if I could grasp the immensity, the kindness, the mercy, the seriousness of God... I might cry more. I might love more. I might live better.
Here's the truth: my life is dark. I never want to throw up some missionary illusion and make anyone think I have it all together. Truth is, I desire stuff over God somedays. Somedays my temper errupts and I get so tired of Anna crying. Somedays the girls ask me to play with them and I say no. Somedays I know I should do the dishes for Fri, but I am so dang tired that I flop onto my bed instead. I have this really horrible heart. There are times when I would rather watch TV instead of pray. There have been times where my frustration takes over and I pound out five miles in my running shoes instead of getting on my knees. I'm so imperfect.
I have always found my way back to God, though. Or, God has dragged me back to Himself. And yet, I never wail. I never weep. I never cry. I get myself positioned in front of The Lord, fix my eyes, and just sit there. Nothing changes. The next day I still choose something over God.
Nehemiah 8:9b. The people were weeping. They got to hear God's word (which we can read every day, might I add), and they were torn apart at it. Sometimes I go days without really reading the bible. When I finally read it again, I have a lot of slip ups to confess. When I finally reposition my eyes on God, I have a lot of things that need to be dealt with in my soul. More often than not, I don't really care. More often than I care to admit, I read the bible or pray because I just want to not be guilty. Not because I want to spend time with God. Not because my heart is right or pure.
But today? I cried.
I pictured myself standing at those walls of Jerusalem. I heard Ezra, Nehemiah, the Levites, reading out the word of the Law of Moses and I understood. I understood God. And because I finally understood Him, my cheeks were finally salty. In chapter 9, the Israelites take turns confessing their sins and then praising God.
I don't wail in front of God because I don't realize the gravity of my sin. I don't realize that I've thrown out, spit on and trampled over the things that God says. Most days, I don't realize that I'm unworthy and small.
Chances are, you don't either. Chances are, you don't wail.
So I am going to invite you to the walls of Jerusalem.
Maybe you've been in exile. Maybe it's been weeks, months, years since you've picked up your bible. Maybe you've gone after things of this world. Maybe you had too much alcohol, taken the wrong risks, turned your back on the wrong people. Maybe you gave up. Maybe the hinges to your prayer door are rusty. Maybe your soul feels full of cobwebs. Maybe you forgot about the cross. Maybe you're just so tired and your feet are so sore and you just finally want rest.
Come to the walls of Jerusalem.
There's hope, here, you know. There's freedom here. There's liberty in these passages. No matter what you've done or where you've wandered- it is not worse than the Israelites. Did you make a golden calf of idolatry? Are you too caught up on money? Your sin isn't too big. Your journey isn't too far. The Israelites wandered from God so much that they were embarassed to think about it. Their stack of sin was so tall they couldn't see the top, anymore. But you know what?
God brought them back.
Back to their city. Back to safety. Back to their homeland.
Come to the walls of Jerusalem, beloved. Come on. It's where God will whisper that He is strong enough, smart enough, merciful enough, loving enough, to win you back. But when you get there... When you get here... When you walk up to these walls with me- I hope you cry. I hope you weep. I'll do so with you. At these walls, when you reach them at last, confess your sin. Read the bible. Hear the words. Listen to the fact that you have done wrong and messed up. You're so unworthy. You so don't deserve this. You so don't deserve your homeland. You so don't deserve safety.
Yet here at these brick walls it is all offered to you freely.
I hope you cry. I hope you weep. First for how big your offences are. And secondly as you realize that He loves you anyways.
He loves you anyways.
Go and tell the world. Go and invite them to the walls of Jerusalem.