A thought has been waging war in my mind recently — that God is mad at me. For weeks, my time with Him has been a battle to endure: every morning, I find myself fending off the enemy’s accusations against me. He keeps telling me that I’m not that close. I’m not that holy. I’m not that worth God’s time. I don’t honor Him. I don’t magnify Him. I’m not sowing, but just wasting my time. Yet in the same breath, I recall that God has been ministering to my heart in a rather vague way that, just this morning, is being made clear to me.
As I’ve been praying recently, I have every so often seen an image of a bird. A massive eagle with a wingspan of 10 feet. I never knew what to do with this picture. But this morning as I was writing to the Father, He told me. I began to write and He continued to reveal more and more to me, so I feel like it’s best that I just share exactly what I wrote. I hope you enjoy this vulnerable moment with me as I’ve never done this before.
“You’re not mad at me — You’re fiercely in love with me. You’re so eager for union, far more eager than I am. You continually give me a picture of an eagle with a huge wingspan and I now know this is You reminding me that — even in the midst of seeming distance — You hide me under the shadow of Your wing (Psalm 17:8). Here I am safe. Here I am loved. Here I am worthy. Here I am known. Here I am free to be weak. I can put down the burdens that I’ve been carrying and take up your easy yoke. I can rest again. I keep expecting the shadow of Your wing to cast shade, but You’re revealing to me that Your shadow is an embrace that — time and time again — does not cast shade but one that enlightens. It does not make dim, but rather makes bright. It is under the shadow of your wing that the glares of the world’s treasures are dimmed, yet the brilliance of your worthiness is made bright. It removes the clouds from our minds and causes clarity.”
The truth of the shadow is that, when we enter into it, the only things dimmed are the alluring glares of the treasures that the world offers: security, wealth, status, et cetera. It is here that the cares of the world fall into depths. Like the eye of a storm, the shadow of His wing makes still our weary hearts. It makes still our restless minds. It makes still our frantic pursuits and our wandering eyes. It reorients our gaze and refines our ambitions.
So here’s an accompanying realization:
As I’ve felt at a distance, my natural answer (that is, my innate response, one that is seated in my human DNA and cushioned by a raw disposition toward sin) has been to withhold our praiseworthy King from my praise. As I write, I realize that there may be religious folk reading along that, at this point, are appalled by my fatigued devotion. But I’m here to be honest because, within the last months of loving Jesus with my everything, I’ve realized that when we truly walk with Jesus, we don’t always walk on perfectly trimmed grass. At times, we walk on sharp gravel or on scorching-hot pavement. Yet at others, we walk on the softest sand or the greenest grass. And regardless of what you find yourself walking on today, you’ll surely walk on something new fairly soon. I want you to remember that as I write to you about my pursuit of the Lord; I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m fighting the fight and (as of recent) often feel like I’m knocked down more often than I’m standing tall.
So here’s what God’s giving me as He’s tethering me closer to Himself. There are one of two reasons that I find myself withholding Him from His rightful praise: either I feel at a distance or I feel a weight of shame suppressing the glory that I ought to give Him, both of which have to do with the manner in which I receive the love that He endlessly lavishes upon me. See, my feeling at a distance (a feeling us millennial Christians often accompany with the phrase, “I wasn’t ‘feelin’ it’ in worship today.”) is a signpost that I am disoriented in how I glorify Him. He never changes! He never, ever changes! He sits in the throne room as thousands of angels sing, “holy, holy, holy, holy” and, “glory, glory, glory, glory.” Never do they weary because they know that worship is never about the worshiper, yet is always about the Worshipee, namely, God. I devalue worship when I quantify it by how well I felt loved. Hear this: worship is never about us and is always about the King. So who are we to withhold Him from His rightful praise because we lack the connection that we’ve failed to seek from Holy Spirit?
Secondly I find myself outside the shadow of His wing — and thus withholding Him from His rightful praise — when I feel shame. I’ve done x, y, and z this week, so my worship and gratitude amounts to nothing. But let’s remember together Peter as he walked on water toward Jesus. Even with Jesus in sight, Peter was overcome with fear as he sank in sin. Quickly, Jesus stretches out His ever-compassionate hand, saving Peter from the water (the very thing that his whole occupation depended on as a fisherman…ironic). Peter crawls back into the boat — I imagine him not even making it to his feet before he begins to worship Jesus. Back in the boat, drenched wet, Peter immediately lavished Jesus with praise. Some translations say that Peter and the others worshipped Him with “awe-inspired reverence.” In other words, Peter is absolutely covered in the evidence of sin, but does not let a moment pass before clothing his King in praise. That is who I want to be. In moments of absent-minded sin, I want to be covered in its filthy evidence yet not waver a moment because I know my sin and shame are white as snow in light of His glorious sacrifice.
Away with shame and guilt. Away with lies from the enemy. Away with our wandering eyes and our weary hearts. He invites us in and not just for a moment, but for an eternity. Hallelujah! Enter into the stunning light that is the shadow of His wing and dance with the joy that’s set before you.
Friends, I invite you to be part of what’s coming up in my life, but of exceedingly higher importance, what God is doing and will continue to do throughout the nations. The sender and the sent are one — meaning that you take an equal part in the ministry that God will do through my team and me. I urge you to bless this ministry with whatever you can — whether that is $10 or $100. In this way, you enable neighbors to hear the Gospel and live into the potential of joy over their lives.
With so much love,
A
