THE CRY OF DISTRESS

Encouragements to Patient Waiting 
by John MacDuff

"In my distress I cried out to the Lord; yes, I cried to my God for help. He heard me from His sanctuary; my cry reached His ears!" — 2 Samuel 22:7

It is related of King Asa, that an alarming and painful disease came upon him — he was afflicted with a grievous bodily calamity; and his illness continued to increase, "until his disease was exceedingly great." Yet, although on a former occasion he had gathered the people and had "entered into a solemn covenant with them to seek the Lord God of their fathers with all their heart, and with all their soul" — we are told that, when sickness came upon him, he forgot his promise; and this is the melancholy declaration of Scripture, "Though his disease was severe, even in his illness he did not seek help from the Lord, but only from the physicians."

What a sad contrast between this sinful forgetfulness — and the heartfelt urgency of the royal psalmist! What wonder that the next thing recorded of the one is his death, and by the other, that "He heard me from His sanctuary; my cry reached His ears!" Asa's cry of distress, being made only to man — brought no relief; the psalmist's prayer to the Most High God — was heard and answered.

Which of these examples have we followed? When pain and suffering have laid hold upon us, to whom, in our extremity, have we made our appeal? Has it been to feeble, impotent man, whose every effort is powerless without God's blessing? or has it been to Him who, in His holy temple, hearkens to the cry of the humblest, the weakest, of His children?

Alas! have we not to acknowledge that many a time in our distress — we have looked for help only to men? We have made our appeal to them, believing that they could deliver us, and we have wondered that the sickness was not removed — the disease not cured.

Asa's sin was not his having applied to the physicians — but his having neglected, first of all, "to seek the Lord." We have been guilty, not in having had recourse to means — but intrusting solely to their efficacy.

Whatever is our danger or disease, we can only hope for deliverance by immediately crying to our God for help. For is not this the end He has in view? He does not visit us with sore calamity, only to scare and frighten us away from Him — but that our danger may drive us to Him. He permits terror to lay hold upon us — that we may take refuge in His arms. He allows our faith to fail — that we may cling more confidingly to His almighty arm. He delays the removal of disease — that we may become more importunate in prayer — that we may become more patient, resigned, and submissive to His will. When these ends are accomplished — He speaks the word, He dispels our fears, He grants our desires, He answers our prayers.

"The cry of distress." Oh! who but a doubting, faithless one would ever imagine that the God of love would be indifferent when it came "into His ears?" He, our Father, our covenant-God — He "who has not spared His own Son — but delivered Him up to the death for us," shall He refuse to hear our cry when danger or calamity threatens to overwhelm us? Away with such doubts! "The Father Himself loves you, because you have loved Me," was the assurance of the Savior to His disciples; and still the same words are true regarding all who love the Lord Jesus Christ. It is in love, that He lays His hand upon us — in love that He seems to deny our prayers — in love that He delays to send "help out of Zion." The Father of mercies is evermore compassionately intent upon the sufferings of His dear children — according to the depth and poignancy of their afflictions.

Our "cry of distress" He has indeed heard — but He delays to answer it, that we may learn to persevere in asking — that the passionate fervency of unchastened prayer may be deepened into the strong breath of humble supplication — that patience may have her perfect work — that we may still "wait upon the Lord, who hides His face" — that we may grow to trust His love, to know what He is to us, yes, what He is to all who wait upon Him. Oh! it is not that His ear is heavy, it is not that the tenderness of His sympathy is blunted — it is a part of His plan of faithfulness and wisdom. He is training His children — training them for the greatest dignity and the highest happiness.

And He best knows how to do it. We might rather choose comfort, health, an immediate answer to all our prayers; but we must be taught that holiness is of more importance than comfort; that fellowship with God more precious than health; and that "through much tribulation we must enter the kingdom." We must be brought to an entire and willing surrender of the soul to Him, that, in His own way, and by His own methods — He may cleanse it, may strengthen it, may renew it, may dwell in it, make it His eternally!

Suffering child of God! does your heart fail you? have you raised "the cry of distress," and received no answer, and are you beginning to doubt the love, the faithfulness of God? Oh, trust in Him still! He has heard you — your cry did enter into His ears. Cast yourself in the full assurance of faith upon Him — and all shall be well. It is He himself, who has stirred up your soul in the hour of extremity to call upon Him; and He has stirred you up to call — because He means to grant your desire, and this is His way of granting it. He has let this danger threaten you — -that you may draw nearer to Him — that you may open to Him your grief, your anxiety, your difficulties — that you may show Him your need — that you may plead with Him by His covenant of tears — and, flying from all others, and even from yourself — hide in His bosom.

Oh! you do not love yourself better than He loves you! You can not shrink from pain more than He dislikes your bearing it. And if He permits it still to continue, it is that a greater good may result to you in bearing it — that your heart may receive and retain deeper and sharper impressions of the likeness of your Lord. Oh, then, count the season of suffering a precious, blessed season, though it be dim and overcast — a season of promise and springing freshness — a token of His nearness, and of His purpose to cleanse you for His own — "Blessed are you who weep now."

He who is greatly tried, if he is learning obedience after the example of his Lord, is not far from the kingdom of God. Our heavenly Father is perfecting His own work — tracing the divine lineaments with His wise and gentle hand. He who perfected His own Son through sufferings, has brought many sons to glory by the same rough road, even by "the way of the wilderness and of the flood." He is bringing you home to Himself. Do not, then, shrink because the path is broken and solitary — because at times the cry of distress, "Lord, help me," is not answered by a word — for the way is short, and the end blessed, and your every footstep is marked by an eye of love — your every supplication "enters into the ears" of the Lord God Almighty. He knows your every prayer for guidance, deliverance, and help — your every effort to bear patiently and contentedly what He has laid upon you, and to profit by the visitation — to hear the rod, and Him who appointed it — to yield yourself always meekly, as the redeemed of Christ, to the hand of God, as of a loving Father. All these things, which man can never know, are known and valued by Him.

Still hope, still struggle on, still feel assured that you are not under a harsh rod of vindictive infliction — but under the watchful care of a "Father in heaven," who mingles for you joy and sorrow, as He sees best for you, and who will "neither fail you nor forsake you."

O merciful God, who sees all my weakness, and the troubles I labor under — have regard unto the prayer of Your servant, who now implores Your comfort, Your direction, and Your help. Grant me grace neither to grieve nor repine under this, Your chastisement. May I be enabled to regard my troubles as an exercise of my faith, and patience, and humility — and may I improve all my afflictions to the good of my soul, and to Your glory. You alone know what is best for me. Let me never dispute Your goodness or wisdom — but ever trust Your heart, even when I cannot trace Your hand. Oh, help me, good Lord, that I may cheerfully suffer and obediently do Your will, and choose what You chose, and observe the ways of Your providence, and revere Your judgments, and wait for Your mercy, and delight in Your dispensations, and expect that all things shall work together for good to those who love You. Grant this, O Father, through Jesus Christ our blessed Savior. Amen.

VAIN IS THE HELP OF MAN

Encouragements to Patient Waiting

by John MacDuff, 1864

"Do not put your trust in mortal men, in whom there is no help." — Psalm 146:3

In one sense, we are very dependent on each other. How does the infant cling to the arm of its mother! and how do we in sickness trust to the care and kindness of a faithful attendant! In every relation of life, we are comforted, upheld, sustained by those around us — and especially is this the case in the family of Christ. Every member feels it is his solemn duty to support the weak — to gladden the sorrowful — to console the mourner. If he does not, he has not the mind of Christ — he has not been drinking in the spirit of Him who came "to bind up the broken-hearted, and to pour the balm of consolation into the wounded spirit."

The help we are sometimes privileged to give one another, is very precious. The kindly look — how often has it chased sadness from the brow, even as the bright ray of sunshine chases the dark cloud from the heavens! The word of sympathy — how often has it sounded in the secret chambers of the soul — awakening gladness, where all was silence and gloom! And who shall tell how often God's sweet promises, whispered gently by the sick-bed, have calmed and tranquilized the troubled soul, even as of old, the words of Jesus, "Peace, be still," soothed the tempestuous billows — so that "immediately there was a great calm."

But in another and higher sense, it is true that "vain is the help of man!" We can only effectually help each other — when we are "instruments in God's hand." He makes use of us as His servants, and when we feel and realize our responsibility as such, then our feeble efforts are blessed, and we become "sons of consolation." Apart from this, of what avail is it that the physician prescribes; or that the minister visits the chamber of sickness? Health will not return at the bidding of the one — nor comfort flow from the exhortations of the other. It matters not that there is the exercise of the highest skill, and the utterance of the most thrilling eloquence. Still the burden of disease will bear down the body — and the load of anxiety oppress the spirit. But when the Divine blessing is given, and the Spirit pours forth His promised influence — all is changed. The pulse beats again with health — the soul is freed from its agitations and alarms!

Shall I, then, "trust in the son of man?" No, rather, shall I trust in Him who alone "has the issues of life and death!" My heart may be filled with gratitude and love to those who have been the "instruments in God's hand," and they may become dear to me — even as my own flesh; but I will not "put my trust" in them — I will look higher far — to Him who has promised to watch over me with a Father's care — and whose power nothing can withstand. I will look to Him who is seated as my Advocate and Elder Brother at the Father's right hand, and who has promised to 'undertake for me,' and to plead, in my behalf, the merits of His own most precious blood. I will look to Him who alone can carry home the truth to my heart, even the Comforting Spirit — at whose bidding, doubt and fear must vanish, and hope and joy take possession of my soul.

 Yes, suffering child! it is ever well to look beyond the creature — to realize the fact that only one Arm is all-powerful — only one Heart is all-loving — only one Ear is always open — only one Eye is never closed — and that to Him, and Him alone, "the secrets and sorrows, the wants and desires of the heart," are known. Just as far as we trace God's hand in what our fellow-creatures do in our behalf, earthly love and sympathy and kindness will be helpful and comforting to us. When we forget or overlook this — we will fail to derive any benefit, or any lasting comfort from their efforts.

 Besides, there are needs of the soul, and extremities of suffering and trial — when human help is utterly unavailing. It cannot come close enough to us. It cannot reach the seat of anguish. There are inner depths in our souls, of which we are at times painfully conscious, where only one Voice can be heard. God sometimes permits anxiety, fear, anguish — that we may be driven to Him by finding, short of Him, "no help in man." He would have us make Him our confidence, our refuge, our strength. He would have us know Him as our Father and friend — not know about Him — but know Him. It is this for which we are training. It is this which God is teaching us during our earthly sojourn — by disappointments and sorrows — by sickness and trial and bodily infirmities — by dangers without and fears within, by sore and agonizing extremities where human help cannot reach us — by one and all, He is drawing us to Himself and bidding us put all our trust in Him, "to acquaint ourselves with Him and be at peace."

And, surely, it is a comforting and blessed thought, that "He cares for us" — that all our concerns are important in His sight. Our fellow-men may refuse their sympathy — He never will. They may be distant from us in the hour of need — He is "a present help in the time of trouble." They may be occupied and engrossed with self — His ear "is ever open to ourcry." They may become wearied of helping us — He is ever "touched by our infirmities," and ever ready to heal our woes. Let us, then, with feelings of increasing love and gratitude, as we meditate on the care of our heavenly Father, reveal to Him all our wants and weaknesses, all our sorrows and anxieties, all our sins and shortcomings; assured that, of His infinite mercy, He will bestow upon us pardon, peace, help, hope, and joy.

 Heavenly Father, I would draw near unto You with humble confidence, in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord. I thank You for all Your past goodness, for Your watchful providence, Your unceasing care. I bless You for the gracious offers of mercy which You have given me, and I pray that You would enable me to place all my confidence in Him whom You have sent to seek and save the lost. Oh, may His precious blood wash out the dark stain of sin from my soul. Blessed Savior, make me Yours in heart and soul. Oh, give me Your Spirit. Purify my nature and impress Your image on my heart.

 Help me, O Lord, in this time of sickness, to look up to You as my only help. Keep me from all repining thoughts, and in remembrance of Your past loving-kindness, help me now to trust in Your goodness and to submit to Your will. Make me patient, humble, and resigned, and enable me to bring forth more fruit to Your glory. Strengthen me ever, to show the power of Your grace — in my humility, gentleness, love, and gratitude, to all who help my infirmities and show kindness to me. May I ever regard them as instruments in Your hands, and able to bring me comfort according to Your pleasure. Give me, O God, a simple, entire dependence upon You — and enable me in all things to commit my way unto You, through Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior. Amen.

THE CHASTENING ROD

Encouragements to Patient Waiting

by John MacDuff, 1864

"Behold, happy is the man whom God corrects; therefore despise not the chastening of the Almighty." — Job 5:17

 

Happiness! How little does the word mean when used in its ordinary sense! We generally esteem those happy — who enjoy uninterrupted health, and are apt to imagine that all happiness is gone when they are laid on a bed of sickness. But it is not so! To many of God's children, the time of sore trial has been a time of peace and joy — a time to which they have looked back with the deepest gratitude. Not that sickness is in itself desirable — but it is precious. In the buoyancy of health — when our sky is clear — our sun shining brilliantly — and our hearts are full of hope — oh, how prone are we to forget our true character of "strangers and pilgrims" here on earth! How insidiously does the world entwine itself around our heart-strings! And how slowly do we advance in our heavenward journey! But when the sky is darkened, and the heavy clouds are rolling overhead — when we are laid prostrate — weak and helpless — then is it that we are brought to realize the frailty of our nature, and to become conscious of the truth that this world is not our rest — because it is polluted!

 

In the midst of our heedlessness — God summons us to an audience. He who knows the secrets of all hearts, has seen that within us which must be corrected. He has discovered us wandering — and He would bring us back. He has watched us paying our homage to the creature — and He would remind us of our duty to Him — the Creator. He has noticed the gradual yielding of the heart's affections to things "seen and temporal" — and He would have us give more earnest heed to the things "unseen and eternal."

 

"Happy is the man whom God corrects." Yes, assuredly, because it is a proof that He cares for us. We are not left to wander on without a father's care, but when our steps are fast nearing dangerous ground — His hand of love is outstretched; when we are likely to stumble on the dark mountains — He points to the path of safety; when the siren voice is alluring us further and further away — He summons us back, and Himself condescends to become our Guide. But He will not commune with us in the midst of our heedlessness and folly. He must first draw us aside — away from the scenes in which we foolishly delighted, away from the companions who were making us as worldly as themselves — away even from our daily occupation — He would have us be alone with Him!

 

We are laid on a sick-bed — health vanishes like a dream, friends begin to look anxious — and we are made to pass through days and nights of weariness and pain. All nature wears a gloom around us. The sun still shines — but, for us, he is draped in sadness; the flowers still bloom — but we cannot enjoy their fragrance; the seasons change — but they seem ever tending towards dreary winter.

 

This is the trial-time of sickness. There is much to be endured — much to be struggled against. Hard thoughts enter into the soul — tempting, sinful, unholy thoughts — which would lead us to question God's goodness and mercy — as if He took delight in the sufferings and sorrows of His children.

 

At such a time, there is little peace or comfort — and often those who wish to advise and comfort, come too soon. We cannot, as yet, feel that "all is well;" — we are not, as yet,happy in being corrected. They would have us at once "be of good cheer," but it may not be.

 

God does not intend that we should be happy yet. We must be brought to solemn thought — to heart-searching — to earnest, importunate prayer. The love of the world must be weakened; the cords which knit our heart-strings must be snapped asunder; the longings for earth's giddy joys must be driven from the soul — before we can have the "happiness"of a corrected child! But when again we turn "with our whole heart to the Lord," feeling not only that it is a "Father's hand" which has been laid on us — but that that "Father" desires by this correction to draw us more closely to Himself — then does He impart His promised peace; then does He give strength to bear meekly the burden laid upon us; and then, above all, is the blessed assurance realized, "Fear not, I am still with you — I will never leave you, nor ever forsake you."

 

Oh! who shall say that the "chastening time" is not a precious one — when such is the blessed result? Who will for a moment doubt the happiness of the tried one, when thus "the light of his Father's countenance has been lifted up," and the Lord has "strengthened him upon the bed of languishing?"

 

Fellow-sufferers! we may not have realized this blessed condition as ours; we may be still under the cloud — as yet the struggle may be still going on. Let us not give way to despair. Let us hope on, let us pray for grace to see God's hand in our sickness, to acknowledge that "in faithfulness, He has afflicted us," and to learn those lessons He designs to teach us. Let us wait on the Lord. He will not long delay His coming. In some blessed way He will answer us. If He withholds the blessing of health — He will give the more precious one of His own presence. If He sees fit to continue our pain and suffering — He will impart strength equal to bear them. If He prolongs the time of bodily weakness — He will convey to the soul spiritual nourishment, and "strengthen us with all might in the inner man."

 

Father of mercies, and God of all comfort, to whom belong the issues of life and death — look down with compassion upon Your frail and afflicted servant. Oh, enable me to acknowledge the mercy of Your dispensations, and, without murmuring or doubting — to accept all things as coming from You. Give me strength against all my temptations, and patience under all my sufferings. In the midst of all my fears and anxieties, I would give You thanks for Your sparing mercy. I have grievously sinned, O Lord, and merit Your hot displeasure. But I would cast myself wholly upon Your mercy in Christ Jesus. Oh, hear me in the day of trouble. Send help from Your sanctuary, and strengthen me from Zion. Give me grace, O Lord, in remembrance of Your past loving-kindness — so to trust in Your goodness, to submit to Your wisdom, and meekly to bear what You think fit to lay upon me — that I may be brought to say at the last, "It was good for me that I was afflicted!" Grant this measure of grace unto Your servant for Your Son Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.

AFFLICTIONS OF THE RIGHTEOUS! — Puritan quotes

"God had one Son on earth without sin—but never one without affliction."—Augustine.

"Afflictions are the theology of Christians."—Luther.

"Without adversity grace withers."—Mason.

"God may cast down—but he will never cast off true believers."—Case.

"Sanctified afflictions are spiritual promotions."—Dodd.

"Time is short; so if your cross is heavy, you have not far to carry it."—Anon.

"Afflictions are blessings to us, when we can bless God for afflictions."—Dyer.

"Christian, has not God taught you, by his word and Spirit, how to read the short-hand of his providence? Do you not know that the saints' afflictions stand for blessings?"—Gurnall.

"No righteous man would, in his right mind, be willing to make an exchange of his sharpest afflictions for a wicked man's prosperity, with all the circumstances attending it. It cannot therefore be bad with the righteous in the worst condition."—Charnock.

"This winter-weather shall be useful to destroy and rot those rank weeds, which the summer of prosperity bred."—Flavel.

"The school of the cross is the school of light."—Anon.

"God's people have often been carried to heaven in the fiery chariot of affliction."—Mrs. Savage.

"Winter leads the sap down into the roots, while summer calls it up into the branches, and displays it in the blossoms and fruit."—Jay.

"The tree of the cross being cast into the waters of affliction, has rendered them wholesome and medicinal."—Owen.

"Our departed Christian friends cannot descend to share with us in our sorrows; but by holy contemplation we may daily ascend, and partake with them in their joys."—Howe.

"In times of affliction we commonly meet with the sweetest experiences of God's love."—Bunyan.

"As no temporal blessing is good enough to be a sign of eternal election; so no temporal affliction is bad enough to be an evidence of reprobation."—Arrowsmith.

"What unthankfulness is it to forget our consolations, and to look only upon matter of grievance—to think so much upon two or three crosses as to forget a hundred blessings."—Sibbes.

"Every man has a heaven and a hell. Earth is the sinner's heaven; his hell is to come. The godly have their hell upon earth, when they are vexed with temptations and afflictions by Satan and his accomplices; their heaven is above in endless happiness. If it be ill with me on earth, it is well that my torment is so short and easy; I cannot be so unreasonable as to expect two heavens."—Hall.

"All is well that ends everlastingly well."—Anon.

"It is a blessed thing for the afflicted to wait God's time and determination."—Lightfoot.

"When temporal evils are effectual means to promote our everlasting happiness, the amiableness and excellency of the end changes their nature, and makes these calamities that in themselves are intolerable, to become light and easy."—Anon.

"Crosses and afflictions are God's call to examine our hearts and our lives."—Richardson.

"Too much honey does turn to gall; and too much joy, even spiritual joy—would make us wantons. Happier a great deal is that man's case, whose soul by inward desolation is humbled, than he whose heart is through abundance of spiritual delight lifted up and exalted above measure. Better it is sometimes to go down into the pit with him, who beholding darkness, and bewailing the loss of inward joy and consolation, cries from the bottom of the lowest hell—My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? than continually to walk arm in arm with angels, to sit as it were in Abraham's bosom, and to have no thought, no cogitation, but—I thank my God it is not with me as it is with other men."—Hooker.

"Through Christ's satisfaction for sin, the very nature of affliction is changed, with regard to believers. As death, which was, at first, the wages of sin, is now become a bed of rest (Isaiah 57:2); so afflictions are not the rod of God's anger, but the gentle corrections of a tender father."—Crisp.
"That is always best for us, which is best for our souls."—Phillip Henry.

"Afflictions are sent to stir up prayer. If they have that effect, and, when we are afflicted, we pray more, and pray better, than before, we may hope that God will hear our prayer, and give ear to our cry; for the prayer, which, by his providence, he gives occasion for, and which, by his Spirit of grace, he indites, shall not return void."—M. Henry.

"If we have the kingdom at last—it is no great matter what we suffer on the way to it."—Manton.

"To the poor, humble, and despised believer—the kingdom of heaven exclusively belongs; there his best desires will be eternally satisfied, his tears will be changed for triumphant songs of joy, and his reward will be great in the blessed society of the holy prophets and apostles; and in that of the incarnate Son of God, who passed the same way to his glory."—Thomas Scott.

"No cloud can overshadow a true Christian—but his faith may discern a rainbow in it."—Anon.

"He, who is prepared in whatever state he is therewith to be content, has learned effectually the art of being happy: and possesses the magic stone, which will change every trial into gold."—Dwight.
"I have never met with a single instance of adversity which I have not afterwards seen to be for my good."—Anon.

"I have never heard a Christian on his deathbed complaining of his afflictions."—Anon.

"All the sufferings of the believer are not hell—but they are all the hell he shall suffer."—Mason.
"Christians ought neither to expect nor wish to have suffering with Christ, disconnected with their being glorified with him. The former is a preparation for the latter." Romans 8:17.—Hodge.

"Oh, what must Christ be in himself, when he sweetens heaven, sweetens Scriptures, sweetens ordinances, sweetens earth, and even sweetens trials!"—John Brown of Haddington.

"It is happy for us if we have suffered enough to make us desire a better country, that is a heavenly one; but surely all the painful experiences we have hitherto met with have not been more than sufficient to bring us into this waiting posture."—John Newton.

"God denies a Christian nothing—but with a design to give him something better."—Cecil.

"If the blessed Jesus, who had no sin of his own, bore the wrath of his heavenly Father for a world of sinners; how willingly ought I to endure all the pain I suffer, if my dying example might be but the means of the salvation of one soul."—David Rice


"There is really much more real satisfaction to be found in a crucified world—than in an idolized world."—Witherspoon.

Treating Our Heart for the Treasure It Is

Above all else, guard your heart. We usually hear this with a sense of "Keep an eye on that heart of yours," in the way you'd warn a deputy watching over some dangerous outlaw, or a bad dog the neighbors let run. "Don't let him out of your sight." Having so long believed our hearts are evil, we assume the warning is to keep us out of trouble. So we lock up our hearts and throw away the key and then try to get on with our living. But that isn't the spirit of the command at all. It doesn't say guard your heart because it's criminal; it says guard your heart because it is the wellspring of your life, because it is a treasure, because everything else depends on it. How kind of God to give us this warning, like someone's entrusting to a friend something precious to him, with the words: "Be careful with this—it means a lot to me."

Above all else? Good grief—we don't even do it once in a while. We might as well leave our life savings on the seat of the car with the windows rolled down—we're that careless with our hearts. "If not for my careless heart," sang Roy Orbison, and it might be the anthem for our lives. Things would be different. I would be farther along. My faith would be much deeper. My relationships so much better. My life would be on the path God meant for me . . . if not for my careless heart. We live completely backward. "All else" is above our hearts. I'll wager that caring for your heart isn't even a category you think in. "Let's see—I've got to get the kids to soccer, the car needs to be dropped off at the shop, and I need to take a couple of hours for my heart this week." It probably sounds unbiblical, even after all we've covered.

Seriously now—what do you do on a daily basis to care for your heart? Okay, that wasn't fair. How about weekly? Monthly?

Courtesy of: http://ransomedheart.com/

The Beloved - Excerpt from the book "Sacred Romance"

I am my beloved’s and his desire is for me. 
Song of Song

We will draw our identity from outside ourselves; the question is, from whom? In the End, it will be from those moments and those people with whom we’ve had the biggest impact. Think again about Helen of Troy. Why “of Troy”? Wasn’t she really Helen of Greece, Menelaus’s wife? In calling her “Helen of Troy” we are forever reminded of the impact she had on the Mediterranean world of the tenth century b.c. She is not Helen the Beauty or Helen Like No Other Woman. Those are qualities she could possess alone. 

No, she is Helen of Troy, which really means something like Helen the Fought Over, Helen the Captive and Rescued, Helen the Pursued. Her identity is inseparable from her relationships; it has been bestowed upon her. Maybe she enjoyed the attention, maybe not. Perhaps in the end she merely played the part of the rare art object, stolen from Menelaus’s  palace to be put on display in Troy. I hope that someone in all those thousands was pursuing her for her heart. But whatever else she felt, as the center of an international crisis Helen must have known beyond a shadow of a doubt that she mattered. 

The gospel says that we, who are God’s beloved, created a cosmic crisis. It says we, too, 
were stolen from our True Love and that he launched the greatest campaign in the history
of the world to get us back. God created us for intimacy with him. When we turned our  
back on him he promised to come for us. He sent personal messengers; he used beauty 
and affliction to recapture our hearts. After all else failed, he conceived the most daring 
of plans. Under the cover of night he stole into the enemy’s camp incognito, the Ancient 
of Days disguised as a newborn. The Incarnation, as Phil Yancey reminds us, was a 
daring raid into enemy territory. The whole world lay under the power of the evil one and 
we were held in the dungeons of darkness. God risked it all to rescue us. Why? What is it
that he sees in us that causes him to act the jealous lover, to lay siege both on the kingdom
of darkness and on our own idolatries as if on Troy—not to annihilate, but to win us once 
again for himself? This fierce intention, this reckless ambition that shoves all conventions aside,willing literally to move heaven and earth—What does he want from us?

We’ve been offered many explanations. From one religious camp we’re told that what God wants is obedience, or sacrifice, or adherence to the right doctrines, or morality. Those are the answers offered by conservative churches. The more therapeutic churches  suggest that no, God is after our contentment, or happiness, or self­actualization, or  something else along those lines. He is concerned about all these things, of course, but they are not his primary concern. What he is after is us—our laughter, our tears, our dreams, our fears, our heart of hearts. Remember his lament in Isaiah, that though his  people were performing all their duties, “their hearts are far from me” (29:13 italics  added). How few of us truly believe this. We’ve never been wanted for our heart, our  truest self, not really, not for long. The thought that God wants our heart seems too good  to be true. 

Sacred Romance is written by by Brent Curtis & John Eldridge

Ought Is Not Enough

When the going gets rough, we're going nowhere without desire. And the going will get rough. The world, the minions of darkness, and your own double-mindedness are all set against you. Just try coming alive, try living from your heart for the Sacred Romance and watch how the world responds. 

They will hate you for it and will do everything in their power to get you to fall back into the comfort of the way things were. Your passion will disrupt them, because it sides with their own heart which they've tried so hard to put away. If they can't convince you to live from the safer places they have chosen, they will try intimidation. If that fails, they'll try to kill you —if not literally, then at the level of your soul. 

Jeremiah lived the struggle of desire. He knew the deep ambivalence of living for the Sacred Romance. His decision to trust in the love of God and join the battle for the hearts of his people made him an outcast, a pariah. Like the Master he served, he was "despised and rejected by men." After years of opposition, getting tossed naked into the bottom of wells, plots against his life, the shame of false accusations and the loneliness of isolation, Jeremiah has had it. He is ready to throw in the towel. He lets the passion of his soul forth, directly at God:

O Lord, you deceived me, and I was deceived;

you overpowered me and prevailed.

I am ridiculed all day long;

everyone mocks me. . . .

So the word of the Lord has brought me

insult and reproach all day long.

But if I say, "I will not mention him

or speak any more in his name,"

his word is in my heart like a fire,

a fire shut up in my bones.

I am weary of holding it in;

indeed, I cannot. (20:7-9)

He says, in effect, "You put this Romance in my heart, you drew me out on this wild adventure—how could I keep from following? But now that I have, it has only brought me the fury of my community. And what's worse, I cannot walk away. I'm trapped by my desire for you." Jeremiah may have become a prophet initially out of a sense of duty, but now he is caught up in the Sacred Romance because he can't help it. When the going gets rough, ought is not enough to keep you going
.

Courtesy of http://ransomedheart.com/

Walking with God

Walking with God leads to receiving his intimate counsel, and counseling leads to deep restoration. As we learn to walk with God and hear his voice, he is able to bring up issues in our hearts that need speaking to. Some of those wounds were enough to break our hearts, create a rift in the soul, and so we need his healing as well. This is something Jesus walks us into—sometimes through the help of another person who can listen and pray with us, sometimes with God alone. As David said in Psalm 23, he leads us away, to a quiet place, to restore the soul. Our first choice is to go with him there—to slow down, unplug, accept the invitation to come aside. You won't find healing in the midst of the Matrix. We need time in the presence of God. This often comes on the heels of God's raising some issue in our hearts or after we've just relived an event that takes us straight to that broken place, or waking as I did to a raw emotion.

Teach me your way, O LORD,
and I will walk in your truth;
give me an undivided heart,
that I may fear your name.
I will praise you, O Lord my God, with all my heart;
I will glorify your name forever. (Ps. 86:11-12)

When we are in the presence of God, removed from distractions, we are able to hear him more clearly, and a secure environment has been established for the young and broken places in our hearts to surface.

Turning from Attachment to Desire

This piece from Ransomed heart is so beautifully said, I could not do it justice if I had said it with my own words. But, this process to teach us to turn away from self, from the longing to possess stuff, and from building the coveted earthly life that all of us wish for, is not easy to remove. It is so deeply ingrained in us that even Adam and Eve had it and they failed to deal with it properly. We can easily underestimate the self and its desires, goals and plans as we find ways to soothe our consciences to get what we want. This part of us is stronger than anything you know that God has to violently pull it out of us. I said violent because the pain that He has to bring us through to get us there is brutal. It is worse than having heart surgery with eyes wide open. By the time He finishes with you, it is strange to see how you are aware of all the scars in your soul. It is weird because it is an invisible surgery to your invisible soul. But, God is Himself a spirit, so the surgery is as real as any surgery you experience in real life.

One thing that I was grateful for is that before God dealt with me, He taught me to stop seeing the Bible as a story, but to live out in my soul the realness of His word. There are days that I was able to get through the pain as I remember what others before me have gone through. For instance, Moses, when he decided to leave toward the wilderness after He killed the Hebrews. I could literally feel his anguish. I could feel his confusion from the life he was leaving behind to go  toward this God forsaken place in the wilderness where he had no idea where it would lead him.  He had to deal with the uncertainty, the loss of what he was leaving behind, the lost of prestige, the loved ones that you are being separated from. There is pain all over but your mind is working miles an hour to get you nowhere. Strangely through the pain you are also numb all over. As the dust settles because you are too far ahead on this path to go back, you are suddenly becoming aware of God’s working in you. You wish He would stop because you cannot see how this path can be beneficial to you in any way. Then He tells you right there, that’s the attitude you have to lose because it is not about you.

Then, just to come to terms with the idea that it is not about you, is not that simple because you have to learn to lose yourself in Him, accept all that He brings you through, even being able to say ADIEU to everything you are attached to because you might never get them back. He will remain there with you until it is well with your soul. While He is with you, but He cannot work it out for you unless you come to terms with it to a point where your soul learn to cope with the loss and say it is well with my soul. It is funny now, to see how you cannot repeat those words when face with the reality of your life. You fight with everything you have to say “it is well with your soul.” Your soul has to go through the process of accepting there is a God and it is not you. Your soul, has to come to terms with the understanding that you have a master and only His will for your life counts.  Oh lala! It is painful. God does give riches, but only to those He wants to. If in the end all that we are doing is to get His blessings, He can see us coming miles away. Actually, He knows even before we knew we wanted to come to Him for His blessings. I had to lose this attitude of expecting anything from Him in return because He hates it with a passion. By the time God is finished with us, all that is left is His desires for us in our hearts. Our hearts are turned to Him and we find joy and delight in what delights Him.

  

Whenever I see someone going on and on about getting riches from God, I cringe. The Gospel of prosperity you see going on out there, is simply coming from people who have no idea who God is. They do not know Him personally, nor do they have a relationship with Him. Now it might be difficult for us to believe that is possible and the people coming to us from television with this kind of message are not that legitimate, but remember we can only look at the man on the outside and words are cheap. In the same ways Satan knows the Bible, they know it too. When we are captivated by the message as if we are a bunch of mindless sheep it is because we are not spiritual, so we cannot see what needs to be seen with the eyes of our hearts. The beauty and the captivation that comes from it all comes directly from Satan. Remember, everything that God does, Satan is able to replicate it to a certain degree. Unless we know Him personally and intimately, how do we know we are looking at a knock off? We can’t make that distinction unless we go on with Him through this journey that has room for one only in the furnace of fire and sorrows where we receive ourselves back from Him.

So, even though God has to take us through a process of the surgery of the soul to take that deeply rooted part of us out of the way, we find that it is a daily struggle and we have to live and walk diligently in the Spirit to avoid the temptation of the flesh. I am still struggling, but I am truly working in progress. When you think about how do you think Moses a man so admired by God, a man who loved God so much, a man so meek who has seen God’s glory, that God bragged about him. Yet he was able to sin against God in a moment when he was not watching and let what was happening in his life got the best of him.  I got to stop myself there. Those who are used to me know that I could go on and on….. and on… (LOL)

Take care and here is the Ransomed Heart devotion, below

So much of the journey forward involves a letting go of all that once brought us life. We turn away from the familiar abiding places of the heart, the false selves we have lived out, the strengths we have used to make a place for ourselves and all our false loves, and we venture forth in our hearts to trace the steps of the One who said, "Follow me." In a way, it means that we stop pretending: that life is better than it is, that we are happier than we are, that the false selves we present to the world are really us. We respond to the Haunting, the wooing, the longing for another life. Pilgrim begins his adventure toward redemption with a twofold turning: a turning away from attachment and a turning toward desire. He wanted life and so he stuck his fingers in his ears and ran like a madman ("a fool," to use Paul's term) in search of it. The freedom of heart needed to journey comes in the form of detachment. As Gerald May writes in Addiction and Grace,

Detachment is the word used in spiritual traditions to describe freedom of desire. Not freedom from desire, but freedom of desire . . . An authentic spiritual understanding of detachment devalues neither desire nor the objects of desire. Instead, it "aims at correcting one's own anxious grasping in order to free oneself for committed relationship to God." According to Meister Eckhart, detachment "enkindles the heart, awakens the spirit, stimulates our longings, and shows us where God is."

With an awakened heart, we turn and face the road ahead, knowing that no one can take the trip for us, nor can anyone plan our way.