Is His love swayed by your productivity? Must you work hard to keep Him happy? Do you wonder if He’s disappointed with your struggles and frustrated by your frailty?
Joining us today on this topic is my dear friend, Lori Hatcher. Yesterday, she launched her newest book Refresh Your Faith, Uncommon Devotions from Every Book of the Bible. (Grab your own copy here.)
The following post comes from her book, based on a passage from Isaiah.*
“He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.”
(Isaiah 40:11)
The early chapters of the Book of Isaiah begin with cinematography that would make the most epic 3-D film look like a kindergartener’s cartoon.
Isaiah describes smoke, thunderous noise, and angelic multitudes crying out in praise before almighty God in his temple. His heavenly glimpse of God in his throne room fills him with awe and fear. “Woe to me!” he cries. “I am ruined!”
Other Scriptures reinforce this image of God, describing him as the Conquering King, Righteous Judge, Mighty Warrior, and Powerful Sovereign. It describes how the oceans churn or quiet at God’s command. One word from God speaks the world into existence. Another has the power to send it up in smoke. With a flick of his mighty arm, thunderbolts fly from heaven. An angry glance from his all-seeing eyes causes the earth to swallow those who disobey his commands.
“See,” Isaiah 40:10 says, “the Sovereign LORD comes with power, and this arm rules for him.”
No doubt about it, God is strong. And God is active.
I’ve always admired these attributes of God (even though I find them more than slightly terrifying), because I like strength and activity. I’m a doer, not a sitter, character traits that fit well with my assumption that God expected me to be like him and work hard on his behalf.
But then I had children.
And my busy, do-lots-of-stuff-for-God life came to a screeching halt. Forget teaching a class, working on the bus ministry, or helping with every function the church sponsored. I could barely get myself and my baby dressed and out the door to attend worship on Sundays.
Then my baby had colic (which I wouldn’t subject any nursery worker in the world to). After colic, she had separation anxiety. She was three years old before she’d go into a toddler class so I could attend adult Sunday school again.
Six months later, her sister was born, and I was back to barely making it to church on Sundays.
My days of do-it-all ministry had come to an end. As far as the kingdom was concerned, I was useless.
A taker instead of a giver.
A dead weight on the gospel ship.
My heart sank to think how disappointed God must be with me. Then I read Isaiah 40:11:
“He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.”
Suddenly, I understood that the Mighty Warrior was also a tender shepherd.
The Conquering King stoops down to lift the fragile and the frail.
The Righteous Judge carries his children, not as a burden on his back, but as a treasure near his heart.
The Powerful Sovereign gently leads those who are emotionally tender and physically sapped – and boy, did that describe me in those early childrearing years.
Through Isaiah’s beautiful picture of God, I learned I didn’t have to be productive for God to love me. I didn’t have to perform to earn his favor. I was free to accept what I saw as my season of “inactivity,” knowing that God had not only ordained it, but had a good plan for it.
In his tenderness, he would carry me through my season of mothering if I would rest in him and allow him to lead me.
Isaiah’s picture of God gently leading those with young gave me permission to be frail and vulnerable, knowing that he wouldn’t drive me with his rod, but lead me with his shepherd’s crook.
My children are grown now, and I’m “busy” for the Lord again. As I look back on those childrearing years, I see that they were not fruitless. Once I realized that different seasons of life bring new (and often different) opportunities to minister, I was free to embrace each season instead of chafe at it.
I learned to look for ways to be Jesus’ hands and feet wherever I was, knowing that each day was ripe with potential. And I never again worried that I wasn’t productive enough to satisfy him.
I rested in the fact that the Great I AM is not frustrated by our frailties or impatient with our humanity. Instead, he willingly takes the place of a shepherd to lead with us through our earthly journey.
Uncommon Thought The Great I AM is not frustrated by our frailties or impatient with our humanity. Instead, he willingly takes the place of a shepherd to lead with us through our earthly journey.
Unusual Faith Think a moment about your perception of God. Do you see him as a stern taskmaster, demanding and hard to please?
Or do you see him as a shepherd, gentle and understanding toward your frailties? Do you feel as though you never measure up? That you can’t do enough to please him, especially if you’re in a season of life when you feel unproductive?
Spend time meditating on Isaiah 40:11. Imagine yourself as the lamb the prophet writes about. Picture yourself in the arms of the Savior, carried close to his heart.
Ask God to lead you into a greater understanding of his love and care for you. Then follow where he leads you, trusting that he will use you for his glory, no matter what season of life you’re in.
Unfamiliar Passage Read Isaiah 40:9-13.
*(A Sample Devotion from Refresh Your Faith, Uncommon Devotions from Every Book of the Bible by Lori Hatcher)
Like millions of other people, we traveled into the totality zone of the Great American Eclipse. We spent the afternoon camped out in the heat, hanging with some of our dearest friends, eating Moon Pies and Sun Chips and Cosmic Brownies.
A sense of anticipation hung in the air as the sun and moon aligned.
From behind our super-cool (ahem, functional) glasses, we watched the sun grow smaller bit by tiny bit until only a sliver remained visible.
And then it happened. The event everyone’s been talking about – the moment of total eclipse.
It nearly took my breath away.
Light radiated in all directions from the enormous dark spot in the sky. For nearly two minutes, heaven and earth seemed to stand still.
We saw what is normally imperceptible to the human eye – the sun’s corona. On normal occasions, the corona goes unseen because its light is so much dimmer than that of the sun’s surface.
But yesterday during the eclipse, we saw the radiant crown of the sun.
Life is a lot like that. Sometimes it takes an eclipse – a deep, dark shadow, to see the dazzling glory of the heavenly Son and to know Him in previously unexperienced ways.
It’s easy to enjoy God when life is bright and happy. Brilliant beyond words and more dazzling than our sun, the light of Jesus fills every corner of our earth. Unsurpassed in beauty, unrivaled in strength – this is our God. He rejoices the hearts of His children and fills our lives with good things.
But sometimes sorrow eclipses our God. Life can get so dark we seem to lose sight of Him. We may even forget what He looks like or wonder if He’s been a figment of our imaginations.
But there in the darkness, in the quiet place of our pain, God waits to reveal His heart to us. He invites us to experience His tenderness and find depths of comfort of which we’ve only ever heard tale.
Like the sun’s corona during an eclipse, God can be seen in breathtaking beauty during our darkest hour.
Has life eclipsed your God? Have you lost sight of His goodness and love for you? Have faith, fellow Jesus lover. Just as the sun is unchanged though hidden by the moon, our God is unchanging and constant.He delights in you. His love is steadfast and His tender mercies are new every morning.
How have you experienced Jesus’ beauty during dark times? I’d love to hear – please comment below!
It always makes me a little sad, taking down Christmas decorations. All the tinsel and lights and evergreen beauty – even as an adult, it still seems a bit magical. But now it’s over and time to get back to work.
And then there’s the new year.
It used to fill me with excitement and hope. I would dream of what lies ahead and celebrate with anticipation. But I’ve noticed an unwelcome change in my heart over the last few years. Maybe I’ve become pessimistic. Maybe I’ve just come to love a simple life and don’t want things to change.
Actually, I think I’m afraid.
Afraid of what lies ahead. Afraid of losing what I love or of the discomfort of change. Fear can wield such a vise grip on my heart. Indeed, it has been one of the greatest struggles of my adult life.
This is no small matter for a follower of Jesus, because fear sabotages faith.
When fear moves in, joy and peace get pushed out. Trusting God is replaced by anxiety and “what if’s.” And the longer fear is entertained, the more it takes over. Where fear once was a nagging thought, it begins to command center stage. Instead of walking by faith, self-preservation becomes the goal. Instead of eyes fixed on Jesus, I’m distracted by myself and my surroundings.
But thank God, He’s the Lifter of my head. Thank God, the Holy Spirit is my Teacher. Thank God, He doesn’t leave me here. Thank God He still quiets raging storms – even storms of the heart.
And He reminds me…
He is completely in control. There’s not a ruler or a nation, an organization or a terrorist, a tragedy or a trial, a sickness or even death, that He is not Lord over. He is more powerful than any “giant” I will ever face.
He is abundantly good. There is a lot in life that is not good. A whole lot of things are just downright horrible. But our heavenly Daddy is always working for our good. While He allows free will and human choice, while the evils of a sin-ridden world run their course, He promises to bring good out of it for His own. His intention toward us is kind. Love is the heartbeat of our Redeemer. And He Himself is well-acquainted with grief, so He’s able to comfort us when we need it.
I am of great value to my God. When Jesus taught His disciples about overcoming fear, He based His command “Do not be afraid” on this fact: God notices every bird that falls to the ground. We (whom Jesus calls His friends!) are of much greater value than the birds, so there’s nothing to fear! Nothing in heaven or on earth could cause Him to forget His friends. He is ever attentive to our prayers and our plight.
I am never alone. Sometimes I catch myself dwelling on “what if’s.” But if I stop to think about it, I realize that the presence of God is noticeably absent in these scenarios. Here’s the reality – never will I face a trial or a struggle on my own. The indwelling Spirit of God, with all His infinite power and wisdom, is forever my Companion.
So when fear invades, this is how God is teaching me to respond. (This, of course, relates to unwarranted fear. In truly dangerous situations, fear can be a God-given response compelling us to “fight or flight.”)
Ask God for discernment. Is there a legitimate danger I need to face or flee? If not, then…
Notice whose “voice” I’m listening to. The devil’s native tongue is deceit, and he’s a master at distraction. If I’m entertaining fear, I’m most likely believing something that’s not true. Or forgetting something that is true.
Seek God for the truth that counters any lie.
Respond in faith, based on the truth. Quite often, the response of faith is opposite of what fear is driving me to do.
So, as I face the new year, I rejoice that our God became man, conquered death and is forever with us through His Spirit. He has good things stored up for His kids, and one day He will set all things right. In the meantime, His nearness is our good.
“But as for me, the nearness of God is my good; I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all Your works!” Ps 73:28.
May we treasure that nearness and trust His heart.
What about you? How do you respond when facing uncertain times? I’d love to learn what God has taught you!
Don’t take my word for it! Check out these passages:
Ps 31:19; 89:6,8; Rom 8:28,39; Eph 1:5,9; Zeph 3:17; Isa 53:3; 1 Jn 4: 8-10; Matt 10:29-31; Lk 12: 4-32; Isa 49:15-16; Heb 13:5