Pages

24 May 2020

abandon

As I bawled my way home from the airport yesterday, two days in a row with Nikki and then Sharon, the Lord gave me a word I've been giving myself a lot lately.

Abandon.

Abandon is what we did.

Abandoned our friends at the airport when they were at rock bottom.

Abandoned our friends and family throughout Haiti without so much as a good-bye, without warning, after we had just days earlier stood in front of a chapel full of family and promised, "don't worry, we will be here through the end of May and make sure this transition goes well and smoothly!"   Abandoned Gues to have the baby I promised I'd hold, abandoned employees in a time of unprecedented unemployment, abandoned our churches without even having been able to make the announcement, left Gertha after years and years of her faithfully coming, abandoned Haiti in the middle of a long, deep stretch of need and crisis.

I have been plagued by the word almost every moment, so it caught my attention sharply when He whispered it...too loud and heavy and clear to miss...Abandon.

For the first time, a dozen Biblical versions of the Word rushed in, strong like tears have been so quick to rush in these days.

Abandon the cares of this world.  
Mark 4:19

Abandon the worries of today.
Matthew 6:25

Never Abandon His teaching.
Proverbs 4:1

Abandon your safe spaces, your comfort places, even your father and mother.
Luke 14:25

God does not Abandon those who search for Him.
Psalm 9:10

Do not Abandon the Lord.
1 Kings 9

We are hunted down, but never Abandoned by God.
2 Corinthians 4:9-11

Even if your mother and father Abandon you, I will not.
Psalm 27:10 

The Lord will neither fail nor Abandon you.
Deuteronomy 31:8

God does not stand at a distance.
Acts 17:27

Abandon your ways.
Isaiah 55:8 

Do not abandon your faith.
John 16:1

I may have done all kinds of abandoning.

But He promises never to, and instead He promises to dwell in the broken and contrite heart.

That.

That I have.


Where we end up, friends, is not determined by what we go through.

It is determined by who we listen to...and our God is not silent.

When He spoke "Abandon" to me yesterday, I knew that what O Chambers says is true : He always presses the point until we learn to make Him our first consideration. 

This storm was one I couldn't circumvent, one I couldn't control, not in the least. I couldn't plan for it, wasn't prepared for it, and couldn't find a way around it.

Perhaps you are in a similar storm today, in this season of uncontrollable struggles and helpless losses.

The storm may be out of my control, but I have been weathering it badly. We cannot run to places in storms that are more dangerous than the storm itself.

It takes faith to stay full of courage when the storm is raging. It takes faith to stay sweet when everything has gone so sour. It takes faith to stay focused, to stay expectant, when we've been so disappointed.

Haiti took a lot of faith.

But do I have a mustard seed of it now? Just enough to do what He's asking?

Abandon, My way, not yours.


Do we have the faith, friends, to abandon? 

All that we have been clinging to?

All that we have been focused on?

All the voices and distractions we listen to?

All that we had wanted?

All whom we love so dearly?

All the safe places, all the guilt, all the feelings?

All that was done and left undone?

All the hurt?

All the pieces?


This season, NOW, may we give up all the places we thought we'd be.  May we raise up all the dreams we thought we'd realize. May we let go all the events we thought we'd cherish. May we release all the people we thought were ours, or would be. May we surrender all the debts we thought we needed paid, may we abandon all the hurts we thought we'd somehow miss, may we surrender all the broken and all the beautiful, too...

May we give up all the places we thought we'd be, and keep our peace, ministering where we are.

This. This is what painful pruning looks like.

I've got some major abandoning to do these next days, and I'm so thankful that no matter where I am, you're here walking with me all the same.

What now? I have asked so many times, branches and blossoms and roots ripped up all around me, abandoned.  What now?

Now we look to Jesus.

Now we look to Jesus.

No comments:

Post a Comment