Coronavirus: The Christian’s Response to Fear

In these days of coronavirus, fear is justified! It is possible to not have toilet paper or water or meat. It is possible to be out of work for a long time and be low on money for housing and food. It is possible to catch the virus and be very sick.

But these are the very days that invite us to experience the living God! The exhilarating, terrifying adventure of walking by faith, not by sight.

And how can I walk by faith if I don’t have any needs? How can I wholly trust in Jesus’ name if I have a decent paycheck and a well-stocked grocery store?

“Without faith it is impossible to please him.” Hebrews 11:6

This is our time to please God by throwing our weight on Him! We don’t know how we will find chicken for dinner, but we trust Him to meet our needs. We pray, “Give us this day our daily bread.” But we mean it, and we fall on His care, not knowing how else to find nourishing food for our families.

“Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7 How He longs to provide for our daily needs! Just like manna, though. Not hoarding for weeks to come. Just for today. That which is hoarded reeks and rots.

We rise in the morning, and trust Him for enough food and water and toilet paper and courage- just for today. “Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears us up; God is our salvation.” Psalm 68:19

We don’t fear for tomorrow. We don’t worry that all the hoarders will rob us of essentials in the future. “The fear of man lays a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is safe.” Proverbs 29:25

The Israelites had an opportunity in the desert to trust God for daily food and water. They really had no choice. There were no stores in the desert. And they cried to God. But the tone of their cry was panicked. Complaining. Demanding. I think that the root of their prayers wasn’t really faith. They were not thinking that God was all-powerful and all-loving and able to meet their needs. They were not thinking about God at all. I know this because that is so often how I pray. Here I am, speaking to the Almighty One about my needs, barely remembering that He is really here. My prayer is not toward Him at all. It is, like most of my life, all about me.

How did God respond to their complaining hearts, that really didn’t think He would miraculously provide for them? “When the Lord heard them, he was furious… for they did not believe God or trust Him to care for them.” Psalm 78:21-22, NLT

And there it is. That is where I am convicted of my sin. My lack of faith is sin. How I hurt the heart of my glorious, almighty, ineffable God- His actual, very heart- when I refuse to believe that He will take care of me. And His anger is aroused because, in essence, I don’t believe He is God. In my heart I believe He is powerless and only good for Sunday morning country clubs and platitudes. He isn’t real enough to go with me through fear and suffering.

I am so sorry. My heart breaks for how I’ve hurt You, God, and defamed Your Name.

And I realize that to trust You for food isn’t just about me and my precious family. It is an act of worship. It is a defiant belief that You are Good and Completely Powerful. No matter what. And I cling to You and resist buzzing around, crafting frenetic back-up plans, thinking that You will more than likely not provide.

And when He provides, I will praise Him, privately and publicly. To remind myself and others that He really is God. He really is alive. He really is good. He is completely powerful.

Thank God, literally, for tough times that remind me that I can wholly trust in Jesus’ name.

Photo credit: here

 

 

Deep Calls to Deep

Deep calls to deep at the roar of your waterfalls

All your breakers and Your waves have gone over me.

Psalm 42:7

When I was a girl, my family embarked on the “Maid of the Mist,” a tourist boat that sails very near the powerful Niagara Falls. Of course, the journey didn’t take us directly under the roaring waterfall. We traveled close enough to experience the mist only.

I don’t actually want to be covered by a waterfall.

So, I paddle and exert my smallness to avoid the catastrophe.

The sovereign God, boundlessly bigger than every waterfall, also sees my frantic, insignificant flailing. This time He allows the current to pull me closer to the cascade.

Deep calls to deep.

There is something for me in the thunderous roar that I cannot have in the peaceful river. And He waits for me there.

Deep calls to deep.

My soul was made for this crisis, this terrible flood. For the deep is where I experience the depth of God.

“For you cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas and the flood surrounded me. All your waves and your billows passed over me…. When my life was fainting away, I remembered the Lord, and my prayer came to you….” Jonah 2:3,7

Sovereign Jesus, You have allowed Your breakers and Your waves to overwhelm me. There is nothing but You here. I have nothing else to see, smell, hear, taste or feel.

Deep calls to deep.

This tumult is a sacred place. Just You and I. You hold me here in tender, strong protection.

In a flash I realize the futility of my efforts, my plans, my solutions.

I am overwhelmed by Your power. And I treasure that You are for me. Unfathomable power working all things for good.

So that everyone can easily see that it is not my strength or wisdom or even faith that gives breath and life.

It is all You, my close God.

Deep calls to deep.

And I commune with You in the deluge. Not with words or even thoughts.

Your heart- pulsing, vibrant Source of Life- directly communes with my heart.

The waterfall, although terrible, becomes a place of beauty and surprising peace.

“But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge.” Psalm 73:20

 

Photo credit: Niagara Falls

The Eyes of Jesus

Jesus walks on water.

He defies the laws of nature. The laws He created.

He transcends what He creates.

He transcends everything.

He transcends me.

And I see Him on the dark, swirling waters.

And I’m thankful that He walks above it all.

The circumstances that threaten to drown me are a royal carpet for Him.

It doesn’t actually matter if those waves are a willing platform, joyfully supporting Him where humans have never before been supported.

Or if those waves are defiant and seething.

Either way. He is Lord and Creator of the waves. Submit they must.

And now His eyes fix on mine.

Oh how He loves me!

And I trust Him in these roiling waters.

He beckons.

“Come.”

Of course, it doesn’t make sense. Human being cannot walk on water.

Human beings cannot give what they don’t have.

But His love!

It’s like solid ground. I won’t deny it.

So, in faith, -oh how this pleases Him- I walk.

He is my launch pad.

He is my firm path.

He is my safe landing.

And my heart nestles securely in Him.

Photo credit: https://www.publicdomainpictures.net/en/view-image.php?image=2766&picture=breaking-wave

Love Is Slow

“Hurry sickness” is a thing.

Trust me, I know.

I rush to make green lights.

I snag aisle seats so I can get out fast.

I scrutinize grocery store lines, placing bets on the fastest one.

Evelyn Underhill said, “On every level of life, from housework to heights of prayer, in all judgment and efforts to get things done, hurry and impatience are sure marks of the amateur.”

Ah. It’s the opposite of my instinct. Counter-intuitive. If I want to mature my soul, I must resist the urge to hurry.

Do my kids notice if I’m listening to their stories with half a heart because I’m so efficiently multi-tasking?

Do I put off a date with my husband because the calendar is brimming, and my to-do list is dizzying?

Do I feel a pang when my son wonders, “Mom, do you have time for me to tell you about the book I’m reading?”

Love is slow.

I can’t dive into conversation with humans or God and hit those deep, sacred moments if I’m nervously monitoring the clock.

It’s hard to pull out of habitual hurry. It’s so engraved in my soul I hardly notice it.

“But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.” Psalm 131:2

John Ortberg challenges you and me to earnestly combat life-sucking hurry.

His suggestion: choose the long line at the store and the stop light.

Maybe I should plant myself in the center of the row and snake out of the building like an ordinary person .

Sounds. Like. Torture.

Not to mention a reckless waste of time.

It seems like the Kingdom of God is best measured intangibly. I’m not able to chart the effects of time spent worshiping God.

Impossible to count what happens when I meditate on His Word. Or when I join His heart in prayer for the humans that He loves.

When I spend precious minutes playing games with my kids or hanging on the couch with my husband.

It feels like faith to practice the discipline of slowing.

I long to pass the slow lane and get to work three minutes faster. Resisting that urge is a little way of proclaiming that I’m not the most important thing. The world can thrive without me.

May my soul be as a weaned child within me. May I cease the clamor and striving. Lord, help me to grow up.

May I trust You enough to go slow.

Photo credit: http://haammss.com/daut/as/f/a/autumn-leaves-falling-wallpaper-down_autumn-fall_home-decor_home-decor-ideas-country-decoration-websites-decorators-catalog-pinterest-cheap-stores-blog-catalogs