Black and White

There's black, there's white, and then there's grey. This concept has never frustrated me more than in the area of prayer and determining God's will. At times I have wished that the Bible was more extensive or that God would just call down from heaven, "My will for you is ___________." I have focused on the grey in prayer always wondering whether something was God's will or not. I hadn't thought much about the black and white until recently.

"This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us--whatever we ask--we know that we have what we asked of him."               1 John 5:14-15

There are grey areas of God's will in my life: what job I work, where I live, what college I attended, who I marry, friends I make, etc. However, there are far more black and white areas of God's will: moral choices, purity, walking in the spirit, working as unto Him, praising His name, serving others, etc. Sometimes I forget to ask for the black and white, but how I should! For when my requests align with God's will I can be confident I will receive them. Psalm 115:3 says, "Our God is in heaven, he does whatever pleases him." There is no doubt, no question, just patience in his timing.

I know it is God's will for me to trust him, so if I ask for trust I can be confident He will build it within me. I know it is God's will for me to be healed, so if I ask for healing I can be confident He will heal me. I know it is God's will for me to have a positive perspective in the midst of hardship, so if I ask for Him to help me change my perspective I can be confident He will be working on me. I know it is  God's will for me to be free of the sins which entangle me, so if I ask for freedom I can be confident He will come to my rescue. I know it is God's will for me to have peace, so if I ask for peace I can be confident He will bring it. I know it is God's will for me to be a servant, so if I ask for a heart of service I can be confident He will develop it.

 I can be confident in asking for God's will, for the black and white. It doesn't matter how impossible my request may seem, I can ask anything in His will and He hears. If I ask for something in God's will I am guaranteed to have it. It is a powerful idea. I can wait in eager expectance for God to act, to bring about His will in His way and His timing. So I will ask, not only about the grey, but the black and white.

"Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart, and wait for the Lord." Psalm 27:14

Confession

I have always considered confession to be a word associated with sin only, however this excerpt from Get Out Of That Pit by Beth Moore has been on my mind.

"Confession in its widest sense is our means of baring our hearts and souls before God. Confession is a way we agree with what God says about Himself and about us. Confession takes place every time you tell God how much you need Him. Tell Him what's on your mind. What kind of mess you're in. Who's in it with you. What's holding you back. What's on your heart. Who's on  your case. Who's made you mad. Who's on your nerves. Who's broken your heart. Even if your first impulse is to think it's Him. As long as you can feel it, spill it. Psalm 145:18 says, 'The Lord is near to all who call on him, / to all who call on him in truth.'"

 Sometimes there are things within my heart that I fail to tell God about. I may fail to tell him because I simply don't think about bringing it before him or because I feel it is insignificant. Sometimes I fail to tell him because I know in my head my feelings are wrong, unbiblical, or not based on truth, yet they are real. In those times I am afraid to really bare my heart. However, try as I might to hide my feelings or thoughts, I cannot. Nothing is hidden from Him.

God knows everything that goes on within me. Psalms 94:11 says, "The Lord knows the thoughts of man, he knows that they are futile." He,"searches every heart and understands every motive behind the thoughts" (1 Chronicles 28:9). God, "alone knows the heart of all men" (1 Kings 8:39). Psalm 139 says, "O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise;  you perceive my thoughts from afar. . . . before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord." God sees it all, my thoughts, my feelings, my motives.

Similar to unconfessed sin, failure to bare my heart before the Lord can at times brings an intolerable inner turmoil. It isolates, leaving me alone to carry my burdens. It reminds me of that old hymn What A Friend We Have in Jesus: "O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bare, all because we do not carry everything to God in prayer." Failure to be completely honest with God hurts me, not God. I deprive myself of God's comfort and peace. I must be careful how I am honest, just as Job was, but I can be honest.

God already knows what's in my soul, He doesn't need to be told, but He desires me to cry out to him, to bare my soul. Psalm 55:22 says, "Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you." According to Scripture,  I can, "pour out [my] heart to him, for God is [my] refuge" (Psalm 62:8). I am not supposed to be anxious about anything but rather in every situation bring my requests before God through prayer and petition, and his peace which passes all understanding will guard my heart and mind (Philippians 4:6-7). There is freedom and peace in confession of both sin and the inmost parts of the soul.

"All my longings lie open before you, O Lord; my sighing is not hidden from you." Psalm 38:9

When I kept silent

David was called a "man after God's own heart," yet he still fell into sin. Not only did he sin, but sometimes he failed to acknowledge his wrongdoing before the Lord. In Psalm 32, David describes the ramifications of unconfessed sin he experienced.

"1 Blessed is he whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. 2 Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord does not count against him and in whose spirit is no deceit. 3 When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. 4 For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. 5 Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, "I will confess my transgression to the Lord"--and you forgave the guilt of my sin. 6 Therefore let everyone who is godly pray to you while you may be found; surely when the mighty waters rise, they will not reach him."                 Psalm 32:1-6

Sometimes I wish I could sit down and just talk with David. I mean, his words could almost be written from my own soul. If we could talk I would want to ask why he didn't confess his sins sooner. I wonder if we would find commonality in our experiences. Was it because he felt ashamed? Was it because he was in denial of his sin? Was it because he had excuse after excuse for his actions? Was it because he was fearful of God's wrath?  Was it because he was consumed with his own desires?

Whatever the reason, David's silence, poisoned his very being from the inside out. He was miserable, groaning all day, he was even brought to the point of physical discomfort. There is a struggle within between what has been done and the convictions of truth. The uneasiness is like a weight, a burden, which grows daily resulting in weariness. Even worse, unconfessed sin severs communion with God, therefore one remains alone, isolated. God already knows the sin, it is only self-inflicted injury.

Why do I try to hide things from God? Why do I keep silent at times? I have experienced the intolerable pain that it brings. Never have I felt so alone as when I kept silent. Never have I experienced greater affliction within my heart as when I refuse to acknowledge my sin. Never have I been so lost grasping for purpose as when I failed to confess my sin. Nothing satisfies like sweet communion with the Lord. I have been silent and there is no reason worth the anguish it brings. Truly, "Blessed is the man whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord does not count against him and in whose spirit is no deceit."

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just, and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness." 1 John 1:9

Psalm 51

Psalm 51  was written by David when the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba.

"1 Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions. 2 Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. 3 For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me. 4 Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are proved right when you speak and justified when you judge. 5 Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me. 6 Surely you desire truth in the inner parts; you teach me wisdom in the inmost place. 7 Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. 8 Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice. 9 Hide your face from my sins and blot out all my iniquity. 10 Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. 11 Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. 12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me. 13Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will turn back to you. 14 Save me from bloodguilt, O God, the God who saves me, and my tongue will sing  of your righteousness. 15 O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise. 16 You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. 17 The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. 18 In your good pleasure make Zion prosper; build up walls of Jerusalem. 19 Then there will be righteous sacrifices, whole burnt offerings to delight you; then bulls will be offered on your altar." 

I love David's example of confession. David is aware of God's justice (vs. 4), yet He begins by appealing to God's attributes of mercy and compassion. David fully recognizes his sin. He does not make excuses or try to justify it. Instead he openly admits he is aware of his sin and it has been constantly eating away at him. David doesn't just ask God to forgive his sins though, He asks God to create within him a pure heart and steadfast spirit. David comes before the Lord fully aware his actions warrant judgement, yet he appeals to God's mercy knowing the Lord does not despise a broken and contrite heart.

How often do I try to justify my sin? Do I make excuses for my wrongdoing? Surely God is compassionate and merciful, but do I truly come broken and contrite? Do I stop at asking God for forgiveness or do I beg for Him to keep me close and guide me with His Holy Spirit so I do not fall back into sin? Do I proclaim God's righteousness and praise Him for his forgiveness or do I keep it to myself? How do I confess my sin before the Lord?

Do you want to get well?

I can't get it off my mind; this story, this man. I first encountered it last spring when I began reading Truly Fed by Gari Meacham. Much of this post is largely based off what I learned in the first chapter of her book then. However, as time goes on and life happens I find myself returning time and time again to this story.

"Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, in Aramaic called Bethesda, which has five roofed colonnades. In these lay a multitude of invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.” Jesus said to him, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked."

                                                                                                      John 5:1-9 ESV

 Thirty-eight years . . . thirty-eight years he had been an invalid. Who knows how many of those thirty-eight years he had spent lying next to pool of Bethesda. Maybe he had tried to be cured for years, I don't know; but, he was there at the pool, desperate, with any hope he had left thrown to a local superstition. It was said that the pool had healing power, that from time to time an angle of the Lord would come down and stir the waters. Supposedly the first person to enter the waters after such a disturbance would be cured of whatever infirmity they had (Bible Knowledge Commentary). This man had come to the pool hoping to be healed, but it had not happened yet.

"Jesus saw this man lying in an alcove, crumbled on his bedroll. He knew he had been in this state a long time, and without any small talk or meaningless conversation, He probed to the very soul of the man by asking 'Do you want to get well?' (Meacham, 13)." This seems like an absurd question for Jesus to ask. I mean, it was obvious that the man was at the pool to get healed. Yet, Jesus deliberately asked the man, "Do you want to get well?" Why? Perhaps the man originally had come to the pool with a hope of healing, but that hope had all but died. Maybe after thirty-eight years the man had grown accustomed to his state. To be healed would bring responsibility, change, and the discomfort of the unfamiliar. To be healed would be letting go of all that he had known as life for so long. Jesus probably knew the answer, but he wanted the man to look deep within himself. The man responded to Jesus with excuses. There was no one to help him and other people, well they always got to the water first. So Jesus told him to stand up,  pick up his mat, and walk.  He left the man with a choice. The man could trust and move or remain in his excuses sitting on his mat. Jesus was willing and able to heal the man, but the man had to choose to accept healing.

I am an invalid; not physically, but in so many other ways. I am not thirty-eight, but already I have easily become accustomed to my state of paralysis. I don't necessarily like it, but it is predictable, comfortable, familiar. I can remember hoping for healing, yet its been so long my hopes have all but died. I can't imagine life without my paralysis. I have tried various remedies, yet they each have failed. It seems impossible to be healed, every time I think I'm getting into that pool I find I'm too late or I just can't do it myself.

I'm lying on my mat paralyzed. I hear the question He asks, but I can't look up, I'm mumbling excuses. To be healed I have to trust Him, I have to believe that He can truly heal me, but I can't imagine it. To be healed I have to move towards freedom by standing up, I can't lie on my mat and be healed, but I lack the energy to get up. To be healed I have to pick up my mat, letting go of my past, and walk, but I fear the unfamiliar. In my head the answer is an obvious "yes," I don't like living in this state of paralysis, but my heart does not seem to agree. I know I should be like the man and get up, yet my heart is resistant to change. I want it so bad, yet I am still resisting. "Isn't it interesting that the very thing that paralyzes our lives becomes something we hang on to and refuse to change?" (Meacham, 12).

I can't get this man, this story, off my mind. Do I want to get well? Do I want to be healed?

"O Lord my God, I called to you for help and you healed me." Psalm 30:2