Going Deep to be Lifted Up
I (Carolyn) just finished reading Exodus 20:18-21. The first 17 verses of the chapter give us the Ten Commandments, and then we’re transported to Mt. Sinai—where we read about God’s physical manifestations through thunder, lightning, trumpet blasts and a smoky darkness. Not surprisingly, the people “trembled with fear,” so they stayed a distance away, entreating Moses to speak for them as mediator.
The comparison to our present day relationships with God is stark: The Israelites are frightened of him, and they choose to keep their distance because of their utter terror. But we can know that our Mediator, Jesus Christ, has given his life as a sacrifice to fully atone for our sins. Now we have the ability to not only approach God in prayer, but to have his Holy Spirit live within us. We can know his full acceptance and love and forgiveness because of Christ’s sacrifice. We don’t need to “stay away in fear” because of who he is (Almighty God)….and who we are (sinners in need of unconditional love and forgiveness).
And yet….I know Christians who are fearful of admitting to themselves—and therefore, to God—their deepest, darkest sins. Are they afraid God will be reject them? Do they think he’ll be surprised and draw away in revulsion? Not have enough forgiveness and love to wash away this sin?
If you have ever had any of those thoughts, realize this: Nothing surprises God. His forgiveness and love are so vast and limitless that we need not fear seeing our depravity revealed, having that sin “lit up,” if you will, by the Light of the World who shines into our darkest nights. We simply cannot out sin the depth of his love and forgiveness. And, ironically, we can’t truly appreciate the depth of that love and forgiveness until we boldly, courageously, directly look at our most revolting sin. Then we finally begin to see—He loves me, this much?
What does this have to do with our soul care? Everything. For if I can’t trust God to reveal my deepest, darkest sins to him, then my spiritual discipline attempts will be skin-deep, shallow, and I’m simply going through the motions of a weak, superficial relationship. No wonder it feels blah and the slightest resistance is an excuse to quit. Why waste my time for that?
Simply stated: You gotta go deep. The question is, Do you have the understanding (of who your God is and what he’s done for you) and courage to go there?
Don’t allow seeking a constant “spiritual high” to keep you from seeking him. None of us gets to “arrive” in this world, and the reality is that every single stage of life presents its own unique challenges—those gritty, uncomfortable scenarios that can sneak up on me and suddenly I realize, “I’m back here again? Oh, God. I thought I’d settled that. And here it is again, with a different spin: the ugliness of my sin in a new venue. Have I the courage to honestly admit to this, and take it to you in the revealing Light of your perfection? Do I have enough trust in you and your promises?”
And it’s only when I come “clean” in your presence that once again I am weeping, knowing how much you still love me…still forgive me. The depth of your love and mercy and grace takes my breath away, and once again the restoration of my needy, hurting soul can begin.
This is soul care, gone deep.
Obviously, every interaction with my God is not at this level. But if I’m not beginning and moving forward with a foundation of full honesty, trust and intimacy with him, then all that follows will remain on the superficial level.
An Interview: Craig’s Journey
I know you didn’t always journal. Do you remember when you started—and why? What drove you to writing out your thoughts and prayers to God on a regular basis?
I started journaling after our weekend experience at Marriage Encounter (designed to strengthen your marriage, spouses spend a good part of their time writing honest letters to each other, each one going a little deeper in seeking intimacy), where I experienced the value of writing. I write whatever’s on my mind and heart that day—sometimes just a couple lines and other times, a couple pages. I write what I’m anxious about; happy/grateful/praising God for; what I need wisdom on; whatever’s occupying my mind.
Has your process changed over the years? Are you journaling differently now than when you first began?
Like exercising a muscle—or whatever you put time into practicing—I’m better at this than I used to be. Sometimes journaling is easy and the words flow; other times, it’s hard work.
What specifically do you mean by “hard work”?
When I can’t capture my thoughts. I don’t have much to say. At those times, I sit in silence and listen. And then there are times when silence and listening still don’t let the words flow. But I don’t try to force it; I stop. No guilt. Today just wasn’t the day. I’ll pick it up the next time.
What’s the greatest benefit you see and experience in your life from the discipline of regularly reading the Word and then journaling?
When I get clarity; the confidence to move forward; when I receive peace from releasing something to God; determination to do something that I need to; or the opportunity to repent and seek forgiveness. New things emerge—insight I see that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t taken the time to journal. Sometimes it’s like one door opens to yet another door…and I discover something new through the writing process.
What does “regular and disciplined” reading and journaling mean for your schedule? In other words, how often do you read and write?
I always read the Word before journaling, and I journal an average of 3 times a week. The motivation is that I’m calmer in my spirit afterwards. Note that I specifically said calmer; I’m not necessarily calm.
When you’ve filled out a notebook, what do you do with it, and why, exactly?
I throw it away so no one will ever read or see it. I do this because, otherwise, I would “package” or clean up what I’m writing if I knew someone was going to read it. I wouldn’t be as real or authentic otherwise. I just threw a couple away this past week.
You state that—because of your upbringing’s lack of a “shame/guilt” culture—you don’t relate to the insecurity of approaching God with a guilty conscience. What struggles do you have then in your pursuit of spiritual intimacy with God?
My journey, and especially since I’ve retired, is more about finding my worth not in physically doing ministry work as opposed to simply being a child of God. It’s the Mary versus Martha issue, somewhat. But I don’t cast Mary as “all good” and Martha as “all bad”; we’re designed and created to work and serve God. Finding a realistic balance is the issue, and at this stage of life…it’s especially difficult in light of how my role has dramatically changed. I’m trying to lean into and accept his defining my role—how much and how often I “work.” And I’m hearing from him, “Am I enough for you?”
Next up: Carolyn’s journey