Saturday, July 25, 2015

Receiving the length and breadth of blessing

My birthday was about a week ago now, and a friend brought her 2 year old daughter over to play with my son while we spent the morning celebrating over breakfast burritos. I told her daughter she could play with whatever toys she liked, and that nothing was off limits. My friend, however, had her ask each time she wanted to play with a new toy. I know that she was being well meaning, and teaching her daughter good manners, especially when playing at someone else's home, with their things, but I stopped her and said, "Anything she wants to play with, is fair game. The toy box is hers." Still, every new toy, "Can I play with ____" came out of this cutie's little mouth. My friend smiled shyly as I sighed with both exasperation and futility. I know my son has lots of super fun toys, and it was my pleasure to share every single one with her daughter.  How I wish she would have trusted that I wouldn't change my mind. How I yearn for my word to be firm enough to play freely on, experiencing the breadth of joy available to her; that I so wanted her to have.

A few days later, the whole experience made me think of Abraham, when he was still just Abram, being told by God to go to the land of Canaan. He and his wife and nephew got up and went, building a couple of altars along the way, and taking a detour in Egypt where they accumulated so much wealth, Abram and his nephew (Lot) had to part ways. Lot settled in Jordan and Abram continued to Canaan. Upon arrival, the LORD said to Abram, "Look around from where you are, from the north and south, to the east and west. All the land that you see I will give to you and your offspring forever. I will make your offspring like the dust of the earth, so that if anyone could count dust, then your offspring could be counted. Go, walk through the length and breadth of the land, for I am giving it to you." (Genesis 13:14-17)

If you keep reading, you see that Abram wasted no time, and moved into the Hebron valley, pitched his tents and made an altar to the LORD. God's word was strong enough to provoke him to leave his place that he had known for 75 years on the promise that the land he would receive would sustain his offspring, of which he had none. It would have been rational for Abram to doubt God, and approach the whole situation with insecurity. Maybe he could have thought, "With all the wealth I accumulated in Egypt, I can just go back home and live out the rest of my days like a king! Why bet the farm on a place I've never been, and on offspring that I don't have?!" No logical person could find fault with that argument. Or maybe he would see the land and think, "Ok. God says all this is mine, but I'm just gonna take this small half acre over here, where no one will mind my presence, and I won't bother anyone, and in case God changes his mind, I won't be disappointed." Or maybe every time he realized his patch of grass had run low and his herds needed more, he'd present an offering and ask God if he could have more land. I imagine God saying, "Dude... I already told you, this is all yours. Stop killing the bulls." But he didn't make any of those arguments. Against all hope, Abram believed and so became a father of nations. Without wavering through unbelief, he believed God had the power to do what He promised. This faith is what Romans said is credited as righteousness to him. (Romans 4)

It is gut-wrenching when God calls us to receive the length and breadth of that which is glorious and nearly impossible. Insecurity seems to wrap itself around our heart and try to convince us that God isn't that good, or that it can't really be true, or tell us we didn't work hard enough for what we're getting. We coddle that insecurity and go back to God, time and again, asking, "Are you sure?" expecting Him to take it back. But that's not who He is, and that's not what He does. God always makes good on His promises, as there is nothing to swear by greater than Himself (Hebrews 6:13.)

So that job you just know God led you to, that relationship you prayed endlessly for, that pregnancy you cried out for but have kept hidden, and the healing you've only begun to taste as strength makes it's way back into your bones, walk the length and breadth of it, experiencing all that God has for you there. Like Abraham, against all hope, with unwavering faith, give glory to the One who has the power to accomplish that which He has promised. It will be credited to you as righteousness, and after awhile, you will receive your reward.

Abba, thank you for the unexpected ways you draw me close to You. Thank you for promising that if I ask for bread, you will not give me a stone. Thank you for the promise of never leaving or forsaking me. Thank you for the promise that I will see the goodness of God in the land of the living. Against all hope, with insecurity's talons wrapped around my heart, I praise You as the One with enough power to accomplish ALL that you say you will do. In faith, I walk the length and breadth of that which you have set before me, knowing you prepared it for me and me for it, and no matter what happens, You make good on your word. Grow in me the faith Abraham had, that will silence the timidity and fear within, that I might become a beacon of encouragement for others receiving and living the near impossible and wonderfully radical blessings You call Your children into. I ask in Jesus' name, amen.




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