The
cry of the human heart cannot always be translated; like a dimly lit
room its contents cannot always be discerned.
One
should not assume that the person unable to articulate their cares is
simply unwilling to do so, and the person so suffering should not
doubt their sanity, or simply strive to figure it out themselves, but
should ask the Father of Lights to illuminate for them and, like
Nebuchadnezzar’s dream, show them, the reason for their dismay.
It
can be disturbing to be confronted with the sure knowledge
that you do not know your own heart. Such a thing is perfectly
understandable.
There
have been times in my own life, when I lived
alone, in my own apartment, that the tears would begin
to flow—fervently
flow; passionately flow—and
I would have no clue as to their origin, cause
or purpose.
I
would be there, alone in my apartment,
loudly weeping with no knowledge as to what had so afflicted my
heart.
There
would, though, always be that Spiritual arm around me, and I would
cry out in my soul, asking Him to heal, to comfort, and to show me
why I was so horribly torn.
I
have suffered many things in my life: heartbreak,
betrayal, rumor, slander, physical abuse, sexual abuse, emotional
abuse, at the hands of wicked, married women who sought only their
own pleasures and manipulations and who had no concept of truth and
consequences (and this, no less, within a large, conservative
congregation that to this day bears much influence over their region,
yet seemingly never corrects
or rebukes the women),
and at the hands of friends
and even at the hands of siblings.
My
life has not been an easy one as I have striven to live the Truth
even as my assailants continue to determine to forever live a lie. Do
you remember Paul’s beseechment of the Lord, that a “thorn in his
flesh” be removed? God refused his prayer, stating that “My
grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is manifested in your
weakness.” I think
that every one of us suffers such an assault, and suffers it so that
we must needs depend only and ever on God for our life and salvation,
and not on ourselves.
There
was an old minister who, preaching to the people, said, “How long?
Not long!” And there is a truth in that. Our suffering is
lengthened by our indulgence of it, and
deepened by our basking in it, and intensified by our refusal to lay
it on the altar and walk away,
never looking back.
The
strength of our communion with Christ can be governed by the
intensity of our disunion with our suffering in this life. I
have never known a single individual who was ever able to praise and
wail at the same time with the same mouth and the same heart. Is this
not, in fact, encoded within the admonition to proclaim with your
mouth that Jesus is Lord
while believing in your heart that God raised Him from the dead? Is
it really not? How can you be believing God even as you are
complaining about your suffering? And,
should you speak out praise while your heart signs petitions of
complaint, which is the truth; where is your soul really residing?
I
do
not justify abuse or deceit or disloyalty. No.
But do you remember what
happened to Peter when he looked at the waves instead of his Lord?
Likewise, when you focus in
on the trials and travails of life rather than on the One leading you
through that morass, you, too, will begin to be swallowed up by the
storm-tossed waves of your suffering instead of being lifted above
them to walk
on them with your Lord, Savior, and Master,
Jesus Christ.
We
have, in our society, a dreadfully distorted view of love. We seem to
have this image that if we love someone we must necessarily always
want to be forever in their immediate company and presence.
Do you really think that Jesus wants to be around you in the depths
of your depravity and sin?
Really?
Are
you not, in fact, an embarrassment to Him? Yet
He died and rose again to set you free from that.
Even though, without the
purifying that for most of us accompanies physical death (though some
few eyes will twinkle), you are never physically in His presence, and
this because of your sinfulness, Jesus suffered the indignity,
depravity, sacrilege, and insult of the cross so that once you have
left this life behind you will be forever in His immediate company
and presence.
Is
this not Love? I ask it again: is this not Love?
To sacrifice oneself for the benefit of others is,
in fact, the very jot and tittle of the command,
“you must love your neighbor as yourself.”
Αγαπη
means self-sacrifice.
It
is the second commandment, behind, “You must love the
Lord your God with all of your heart and all of your soul and all of
your strength and all of your mind.”
How can you not understand that if you refuse to sacrifice yourself
for the sake of others that you are not walking with Christ at all?
How can you not understand
this? How many of us claim to
be walking with Christ but will refuse to lay ourselves upon that
cross, whatever it might in reality be, and, like the Apostle, will
in fact cry out for its removal?
How
many?
How
many?
Indeed,
are there any who truly understand?
This
path leads to a cross! “Take up your cross and
follow Me!” You cannot
walk with Jesus except you carry your cross and lay yourself upon it!
How
is it, then, that the Word tells us that Jesus, His eyes fixed like
flint upon Jerusalem, went boldly forth upon His cross?
Why?
Why,
indeed?
Why,
for the joy lain forth before Him!
“What
joy is this?”, you ask! “What
joy can there possibly be in such torture and disgrace?”
In
His Word Jesus gives us a little picture of it when He tells us about
the prodigal son.
The
disgrace, embarrassment and shame heaped upon that father by his own
son is akin to the suffering that we, daily, bring upon our own
Father, indeed upon our own Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ.
When
he repented and turned back to his own father, what were the
reactions, and who had the joy?
The
one who repented received the astonishment of grace, but the joy was
had by the one who forgave. Look
upon this, and look upon it well: the one who refused to forgive
could not even comprehend the joy of the one who forgave, not even
when begged to do so.
There
is joy and celebration and rejoicing in heaven. When? When a sinner
repents and is saved from the hell of his depravity by the finished
sacrifice of Christ upon
that cross!
He
rose up from the dead, conquering hero over the death of sin,
depravity, debauchery and perversions of every stripe, showing us
that death need not be our end!
But
He did not get there without suffering, He did not get there without
pain, He did not get there without embarrassment! He
suffered all of that and infinitely more, at the hands of your
perversions and debaucheries and depravity and pride and greed and
selfishness and sin.
He.
Suffered.
It.
All.
He
did not scream and moan and lament about his “rights”, for “as
a lamb that is led to slaughter, and as a sheep that is silent before
its shearers, so He opened not His mouth.”
Surely
He prayed that there be another way, but there being not another way
He went forth. Without recrimination, without objection, without
rebuke, He went forth.
Are
we not to do the same?
Shall
we forever lay our destiny upon our pride,
or shall we, finally, let it rest, in the hands of our most gracious
and Loving Savior, upon that cross?
That,
you see, is the path of joy. That is the path of righteousness. That,
my friend, my Dear Reader, is the path of Christ.
For
most of us the greatest sacrifice we will ever offer up is the
silence of our tongue in the face of the Satanic assaults upon us.
But such a sacrifice is not complete and pure and righteous if with
it we refuse to offer up our “rights”; if with it, we refuse to
cancel the debt that we see as owed to us; if with it we refuse to
forgive.
If
we were to truly look into our hearts and turn on the bulb of that
dimly lit room to really gaze upon its decrepit contents and the
filth therein piled high we would see the ludicrousness and the
lunacy forever exposed within us every time we start screaming about
our rights, and we might even fervently and passionately weep over it
all.
Above
all, let us see the true nature of Godliness and sacrifice and Love;
let us see the true nature of being upon that cross, and the destiny
that rides therein that certainly leads to joy.
But
first, this path leads to a cross!
