Forget Me Not

I love reading the heart of King David poured out on the pages of Psalms. There is something significant that happens on the inside of me as I read and see the reflections of a man who was able to articulate so rawly how I am feeling, yet still be called a man after God's own heart. One of his songs in particular has resonated so deeply within me as I walk through this new season of transition in my life.

"As a deer pants for flowing streams, so my soul pants for you O God. My soul THIRSTS for God, for the living God. When shall I come and see his face? My tears have been my food day and night, while they say to me all day long, 'Where is your God?' These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I would go with the throng and lead them in procession to the house of God with glad shouts and songs of praise, a multitude keeping festival. Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God. My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar."

As I read this passage out of Psalm 42 this morning and the emphasized words above jumped off the page, the Lord spoke something to me so clearly. "I can lift your soul and still your heart if you will just remember me. When did you stop thirsting?" Knife. To. The. Heart. My first reaction was to defend myself with, "Excuse me, Jesus? Yeah, hey, real quick question... what exactly do you mean by remember you? Also, I'm pretty sure I am DYING of dehydration over here I'm so thirsty. Did you not read my last blog post?"

Realizing that probably wasn't the best approach, I stopped for a moment to gaze with him into my own heart. Typical Jesus, he had a point. I suffer from severe spiritual amnesia sometimes. I find myself in the middle of the rushing river of life and it's trials, and my first reaction is to fix my eyes on the tide. My heart quickly wearies from the striving as I tread water attempting to stay afloat. I forget the rivers that he dried up before my eyes and the waters that he parted so that I could walk across on dry ground. If I could just stop for a moment and remember his faithfulness, his steadfastness, and his consistency, my heart would not tire. Here is Jesus saying "Alexis, forget me not in the middle of your battles."

In addition to the amnesia that creeps in in the midst of my battles, I also tend to suffer from memory loss in the middle of the mundane. There are days that I complete and feel really great about, days I complete and feel really determined never to repeat, and then there are days that I complete and I feel absolutely nothing. There was no thirst. My soul was not in want for the face of God. Perhaps I didn't experience a great enough accomplishment that I felt I owed credit where credit was due (Jesus forgive me when I forget EVERY good thing comes from you), or perhaps I didn't experience a great enough challenge that that I felt I needed to ask for help (Dad teach me to rely on you for my very being). Here is Jesus saying "Alexis, forget me not in the middle of the mundane."

Can you say "heart check?" I had a major one this morning. So many times we forget to place the Lord ever before our eyes. We fill ourselves to overflowing with all the wrong things until there is no thirst left in us. The only possible solution is to imitate David as he spoke to his soul, prodding it to replace its hope in God. The only possible solution is to remind ourselves of the faithfulness of God in and out of season. The only possible solution is to remove every other cup as far away as possible until we thirst only for the living God. Lord, I remember you. My soul longs to see your face.

Privilege in Pain, Glory in Dying

I can almost guarantee that you have never considered something as undesirable as pain to be a privilege. I had not ever considered it, either, until I progressed out of a season of pain into a season of painful silence. In my season of pain, I felt compelled into the presence of Jesus. In my season of pain, I felt a sense of life and security. In my pain I found purpose, and drive, and motivation, and will power. Here in this season, I find stillness. Here in this season, I find feelings of intense disconnect. Here in this season, I find myself in the dying, and it is extremely uncomfortable yet unexpectedly beautiful in the most indescribable way. Naturally, I am going to try and write a blog about the most unexplainable thing I have ever encountered.

In some respects, the past month of my life has been the most uncomfortable thing I have ever encountered. I wake up in the morning and struggle in vain to find some kind of normal. My rogue heart strives to find just one thing besides the Lord that is consistent to cling to as if he were not enough. I sit down at the end of the day to process my thoughts and consider where I am, and I come up totally empty-handed, unable to pinpoint what the Lord is doing in my life. I feel as though I am floating through my days and weeks, collecting scratches as I bump up against the rough edges of unfamiliar environments and try to squeeze into places that were not meant for me.

What is happening, Jesus?

At the same time, I am realizing like never before exactly what I was made for. I am realizing what my heart burns for. I am starting to see a glimpse of what Jesus had in mind as he sat down to craft me, and opportunities have been unfolding more rapidly than I could have ever imagined for me to carry out what I was built for. Even at the end of those days when I feel most alive, however, there is  a wrestling on the inside of me that stops me in my tracks. When I am doing what I most love, whether it be loving teenagers or holding the hands of the homeless or lying on the floor of my room in worship, I can feel an opposing force rising up on the inside of me and war being waged in the depths of my being.

What is this, Lord? 

Turns out, this is the dying. This is my flesh being put to death. I can honestly say I have never been in this place before. I have never passed through a season of life quite like this where the Lord asked for my hand and then walked beside me in near silence concerning my own heart. He is being so intentional in every minute of this season, and I am seeing almost none of it as it transpires. I know he is working because I feel the shift, the struggle, the battle taking place. I see his purpose in it all. I understand that I cannot live my life if there is any of me left to live it. I find glory in the dying because he considered me, and now calls me higher. He is taking me to a place where I no longer live, where nothing of Alexis remains. He is gutting this space and creating a meeting room to conduct his business, and I am losing who I am in the process in the best way possible.

No one serves so faithfully as a dead man resurrected, for he has nothing standing in his way.