“The floods have lifted up, O Lord,
the floods have lifted up their voice;
the floods lift up their roaring…”
Irene is arriving. Hours now lie between what is now and what will be then, then, after the hurricane hits, however it hits. There is all kinds of speculation and predictions, fears and lack of fear, within this region, country, and perhaps world.
There is a sense of anticipation unlike others I have felt before. Part of it is the reality that I’ve never been around a hurricane before, and this one will likely be significant. Moreso, it seems to be the feeling of anticipation of God’s moving, of God’s sovereignty and timing of this hurricane coming when it is (the first hurricane to directly hit NYC in over 100 years), and that John and I are here when we are. I believe we are here for such a time as this. NYC is such an epicenter of the world, seemingly indestructible and invincible, but in times like this, incredibly vulnerable. In many ways, I think it is a complex icon for the human heart. Yet, God is “…mightier than the thunders of many waters, mightier than the waves of the sea, the Lord on high is mighty!” (Psalm 93:3-4)
I’m praying that our hearts will be sensitive to these circumstances and how God wishes to use them. I pray we will be ministers of His grace and gospel throughout it all. We do not know what the next 48 hours look like, and those 48 hours determine a lot of what the near future looks like here. But I know the Lord, and I know He will never change in an uncertain future, hurricane or not.
Praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord, O my soul!
I will praise the Lord as long as I live;
I will sing praises to my God while I have my being.
Put not your trust in princes,
in a son of man, in whom there is no salvation.
When his breath departs he returns to the earth;
on that very day his plans perish.
Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob,
whose hope is in the Lord his God,
who made heaven and earth,
the sea, and all that is in them,
who keeps faith forever;
who executes justice for the oppressed,
who gives food to the hungry.
The Lord sets the prisoners free;
the Lord opens the eyes of the blind.
The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down;
the Lord loves the righteous.
The Lord watches over the sojourners;
he upholds the widow and the fatherless,
but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin.
The Lord will reign forever,
your God, O Zion, to all generations.
Praise the Lord!
Psalm 146
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Friday, August 12, 2011
An Impersonal Majority
Today I walked the block and a half to our fruit and vegetable market. It is a trip so close and worth it (good, cheap fruits and veggies), but I always find myself hesitant to make it. I did today though, and when I got there, I breathed a sigh of relief because the only other one in the store was the cashier, who is, to put it simply, a lot more like me than many others in this neighborhood. I gathered my items and went to purchase them. The cashier and I engaged in a bit of small talk, and I left and walked the block and a half back to our apartment, veggies and fruit in hand.
I’ve been thinking about my relief I felt in the store today and why I felt it. And I realized that that my inhibition in being out in this neighborhood is that I almost always feel as if I am being judged and/or watched. John and I talked about this tonight, and the fact is, I am. Because I am not Jewish, I will be judged here, seen as one who does not belong. And because I am not black, I am seen as an outsider, one who is lost or out of place. I know that I can’t assume that everyone thinks this. But because there have been more than a few instances of this, I assume it is true at least to an extent.
Sometimes it is frustrating. Sometimes it is intimidating. Sometimes it is aggravating. Sometimes it is not a big deal, and goes unnoticed. Almost all of the time, it is unfamiliar. I have seldom known what it is to be viewed as an outsider, and especially because of the way that I dress, my unapparent religious beliefs, or the color of my skin.
I have said before that I thought in moving to NYC, moving to Brooklyn would be less of a culture shock than Manhattan. I continue to find my hypothesis to be incorrect; the opposite is true. Other than being in the minority of people who have a significant hearing loss, this is the only other time I’ve truly felt to be something I have seldom experienced before:
A minority.
Sometimes it is easy to feel the desire to shirk back, to just slip in and out of our apartment and the five blocks between here and the subway and try to go unnoticed, and sometimes I do that. But overall, I think that is silly. We are all people. The love of Christ that I have experienced and know compels me to give, to serve, to look for opportunities to meet people’s needs, and to take them. I have been able to do that here in different instances. There are people I have seen the needs of, but was shut down and rejected by them when I offered help. There have been other times where I saw a need but didn’t know how to meet it or simply didn’t do it. But the recurring theme in this is that
We are a people in need.
And as a follower of Christ, I am compelled to give and meet those needs.
It isn’t easy though. I’m learning how to recognize people who are open to a conversation or having a need met. There was an older woman artist who approached me yesterday and asked for help finding a certain subway line. We ended up taking the same one and so we walked together and engaged in conversation. It ended when we got to the station, but then I picked it back up again. I learned of who she is in simple laymans terms and was invited to her gallery show starting in September. I gave her my email so she could send me an invitation to it, and we boarded the subway. I was on for just one stop, and when I got off, we both said goodbye cheerfully to one another.
Isn’t this how it should be?
I believe so. I believe that though we are people who put on the front of wanting to be self-sufficient, we do crave community and welcome help, even from a complete stranger. It’s just that some people have more barriers in their lives, whether self-placed or not, that keep them from receiving it from people they do not know. Sometimes it is religion. Sometimes it is race. Sometimes it is another factor we don’t know of.
I started rereading a book last night that I started a few years ago. In the first chapter, it referenced a famous experiment by Dr. John Calhoun involving mice. Here is the summary from Wikipedia in simple layman’s terms:
I love what Charles Swindoll, the author, has to say about this, and I will leave the thought here:
Charles Swindoll, Improving Your Serve, page 3
I’ve been thinking about my relief I felt in the store today and why I felt it. And I realized that that my inhibition in being out in this neighborhood is that I almost always feel as if I am being judged and/or watched. John and I talked about this tonight, and the fact is, I am. Because I am not Jewish, I will be judged here, seen as one who does not belong. And because I am not black, I am seen as an outsider, one who is lost or out of place. I know that I can’t assume that everyone thinks this. But because there have been more than a few instances of this, I assume it is true at least to an extent.
Sometimes it is frustrating. Sometimes it is intimidating. Sometimes it is aggravating. Sometimes it is not a big deal, and goes unnoticed. Almost all of the time, it is unfamiliar. I have seldom known what it is to be viewed as an outsider, and especially because of the way that I dress, my unapparent religious beliefs, or the color of my skin.
I have said before that I thought in moving to NYC, moving to Brooklyn would be less of a culture shock than Manhattan. I continue to find my hypothesis to be incorrect; the opposite is true. Other than being in the minority of people who have a significant hearing loss, this is the only other time I’ve truly felt to be something I have seldom experienced before:
A minority.
Sometimes it is easy to feel the desire to shirk back, to just slip in and out of our apartment and the five blocks between here and the subway and try to go unnoticed, and sometimes I do that. But overall, I think that is silly. We are all people. The love of Christ that I have experienced and know compels me to give, to serve, to look for opportunities to meet people’s needs, and to take them. I have been able to do that here in different instances. There are people I have seen the needs of, but was shut down and rejected by them when I offered help. There have been other times where I saw a need but didn’t know how to meet it or simply didn’t do it. But the recurring theme in this is that
We are a people in need.
And as a follower of Christ, I am compelled to give and meet those needs.
It isn’t easy though. I’m learning how to recognize people who are open to a conversation or having a need met. There was an older woman artist who approached me yesterday and asked for help finding a certain subway line. We ended up taking the same one and so we walked together and engaged in conversation. It ended when we got to the station, but then I picked it back up again. I learned of who she is in simple laymans terms and was invited to her gallery show starting in September. I gave her my email so she could send me an invitation to it, and we boarded the subway. I was on for just one stop, and when I got off, we both said goodbye cheerfully to one another.
Isn’t this how it should be?
I believe so. I believe that though we are people who put on the front of wanting to be self-sufficient, we do crave community and welcome help, even from a complete stranger. It’s just that some people have more barriers in their lives, whether self-placed or not, that keep them from receiving it from people they do not know. Sometimes it is religion. Sometimes it is race. Sometimes it is another factor we don’t know of.
I started rereading a book last night that I started a few years ago. In the first chapter, it referenced a famous experiment by Dr. John Calhoun involving mice. Here is the summary from Wikipedia in simple layman’s terms:
In July 1968 four pairs of mice were introduced into the Utopian universe. The universe was a 9-foot (2.7 m) square metal pen with 54-inch-high (1.4 m) sides. Each side had four groups of four vertical, wire mesh “tunnels”. The “tunnels” gave access to nesting boxes, food hoppers, and water dispensers. There was no shortage of food or water or nesting material. There were no predators. The only adversity was the limit on space.
Initially the population grew rapidly, doubling every 55 days. The population reached 620 by day 315, after which the population growth dropped markedly. The last surviving birth was on day 600. This period between day 315 and day 600 saw a breakdown in social structure and in normal social behavior. Among the aberrations in behavior were the following: expulsion of young before weaning was complete, wounding of young, inability of dominant males to maintain the defense of their territory and females, aggressive behavior of females, passivity of non-dominant males with increased attacks on each other which were not defended against. After day 600 the social breakdown continued and the population declined toward extinction. During this period females ceased to reproduce. Their male counterparts withdrew completely, never engaging in courtship or fighting. They ate, drank, slept, and groomed themselves – all solitary pursuits. Sleek, healthy coats and an absence of scars characterized these males. They were dubbed “the beautiful ones”.
The conclusions drawn from this experiment were that when all available space is taken and all social roles filled, competition and the stresses experienced by the individuals will result in a total breakdown in complex social behaviors, ultimately resulting in the demise of the population. Calhoun saw the fate of the population of mice as a metaphor for the potential fate of man.”
I love what Charles Swindoll, the author, has to say about this, and I will leave the thought here:
“What was most interesting to the observers was the strong independence, the extreme isolation syndrome of the mice. This was greatly emphasized by the fact that courtship and mating—the most complex activities for mice—were the first activities to cease. What result would similar conditions have on humanity? What would be the results of overcrowded conditions on an inescapable planet with all the accompany stress factors? Dr. Calhoun suggested that we would fist of all cease to reproduce our ideas, and along with ideas, our goals, ideals, and values would be lost.
It’s happening.
Our world has become a large, impersonal, busy institution. We are alienated from each other. Although crowded, we are lonely. Distant. Pushed together but uninvolved. No longer do most neighbors visit across the backyard fence. The well-manicured front lawn is the modern moat that keeps barbarians away. Hoarding and flaunting have replaced sharing and caring. It’s like we are occupying common space but have no common interests, as if we’re on an elevator with rules like ‘No talking, smiling, or eye contact allowed without written consent of the management.’
Painful though it may be for us to admit it here in this great land of America, we’re losing touch with one another. The motivation to help, to encourage, yes, to serve our fellow man is waning. People have observed a crime in progress but refused to help so as to not be involved. Even our foundational values are getting lost in these confusing days. And yet, it is these things that form the essentials of a happy and fulfilled life."
Charles Swindoll, Improving Your Serve, page 3
Tuesday, August 02, 2011
Trust and Hope.
Trust and Hope.
I’ve always known that these are related, but I think in my life, I have placed a distinction between the two. I would think about trust, and I would think about hope. The definitions in my mind have always been slightly different from one another. Up until recently, I haven’t recognized that this is perhaps a problem.
Last week, I was offered and I accepted a full-time job as an Advertising/Promotions Associate at HarperCollins Publishers in Manhattan. The significance of this is still sinking in. Over a year ago, John and I started praying about a possible move to NYC. In those prayers of asking God what types of things I should pursue, he laid book publishing on my heart. I believe He laid it on my heart as a step into a call I believe I will eventually be doing one day: writing a book. I don’t really know all the steps in between here and there, but I know that God is in the process, and I must be faithful to it.
Back in late May/early June, I remember setting my mind upon this belief: book publishing is a field nearly impossible to get into. I had applied for numerous book publishing positions at different publishers over this last year when we were in Colorado, and I heard absolutely nothing back on any of them. When June rolled around and I knew that we would be moving to NYC the following month, I looked around again. I found a few positions listed and saved them, but didn’t do anything about it at the time. I didn’t really feel like it was worth it. We spent much of June on the road, including our trip out here to find an apartment. On the last day that we were visiting and had a signed lease and address in our hands, I decided to look again in book publishing and see what might be out there. I felt about the same level of enthusiasm as I had earlier that month, but I did find one position that I thought could be a good fit from the position description. I filled out the application in our hotel room, and it was the briefest application out of all the others. It didn’t even ask for a cover letter, something I had spent much time laboring over with the other positions. I clicked submit and left it with the thought of “well, at least I’m trying, and we’ll see if anything happens, though I doubt it.”
It is funny even reading these words I write now to really remember what I was thinking. In my mind, I have trusted the Lord. I know He is faithful to provide and knows my and John’s needs. I have seen Him do it over and over again, and I know I need not doubt Him in this new season. When I was offered this job, I wasn’t surprised. I know it is within God’s character to do so and that He could make a way where there seemed to be no way.
But in the process, I recognize that I have reserved hope.
My first interview at HarperCollins went well. I first met with the HR director, and then with who will be my supervisor. I left the interview feeling good about it, but told myself to not get overconfident, or to basically hope too much. I didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment, especially since it was my first interview, and it was still the first week John and I were living in the city. I knew that things could happen quickly, but thought it better not to outrightly hope for it, just in case. So, I went onward from there looking and applying for more jobs while waiting to hear back from HarperCollins within the week with their decision. “It is the smart thing to do,” I told myself, though deep down inside I had my doubts about it, feeling as if I wasn’t being entirely obedient or honoring to God. Four business days passed since my interview, and I had applied for about 8 jobs at that point. In that process too, doors that were once open closed rather dramatically, specifically with a creative staffing agency I had been in contact with. I knew, deep down that God was working in this situation and making the way clear, but still, I reserved hope until I would hear from them.
Then, Thursday came. I woke up that morning not feeling well at all and with a strong conviction/desire to not apply for any jobs that day. I think God used the sickness to render me listless to do so, because He knows how determined I am to do things when I set my mind to do so. So, the whole day, I didn’t really do anything at all. At about 4 p.m. that afternoon, I received an email from the HR director asking me to come back for a final interview. That wasn’t what I was expecting, but it was progress and I was thankful. It was set up for the following morning.
We went to a prayer gathering at our new church that evening, and there was time to sit still before the Lord individually and pray about certain topics introduced by the elders. One was jobs. As I sat before the Lord, I was honest with Him. I told Him that I was hesitant to hope as I didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment. In that moment though, I knew it was wrong. I knew I needed to present my requests before Him as I desire them, and to trust Him with them. So, I asked Him for this job. I told Him I recognized He had been making a way with this position and into this field, something He laid on my heart long ago and something that I wrote off as being too “impossible.” I asked Him to help me hope and trust that this position is where I am supposed to be, and that the interview the next day would only further that.
And in those prayers, I recognized that it was my heart that has been guarded. My heart, with where I would credit to be the place where hope is born and preserved. As I prayed those prayers, the guards of my heart resisted to come down because I didn’t want to be disappointed. And I wondered how I got here. I wondered, why am I guarding my heart from the One who has created it, the One who has crafted the desires He places within it, and the One who knows it and holds it far better than I can? Why do I feel the need to guard it from its safekeeper? In reality, all I am doing is preventing myself from fully accepting what He has already set into motion and is doing.
And in that time, I knew the reason for the second interview rather than a definite answer about the position. Here was another chance to not only trust, but to hope in the Lord with this job and field. That meant that I needed to heed His leading and requests, to trust and hope that the way He was creating is where I am meant to go. I failed the first time through. Yet His grace offered me another chance.
The interview was the following morning, and I was greeted and escorted by the person who I last interviewed with. She was very happy to see me, and that was reassuring. I interviewed with the director of my department, and it was wonderful. It was like sitting in a beloved professor’s office where conversation flowed easily and well. We talked about things I could do with HarperCollins and their department. We talked about different accommodations that would be needed in the workplace with my hearing loss. We talked through a lot of different things, and when we left, I told her and the person I interviewed with the time before, “See you soon,” as that rolled off my tongue uncontrollably. As I left, I cringed inside for saying that because I thought I would come off as presumptuous, but it had already been done. Yet, inside I knew that things had gone very well, and that there was even more reason to hope and trust for this position, with which I was to wait another week to hear the final decision on.
I didn’t apply for any more jobs. I allowed my logic to be overplayed by the aim of attempting to trust and hope in the way the Lord appeared to be making. So, the week was quiet until Wednesday, when I got an email from the HR director saying he would be reaching out to me the next day about the position. I knew that was a good sign, so I thanked the Lord. The following morning, I received the offer letter for the position, and accepted a few hours later. The job search was done. God was faithful, as always. But the process of reconciling hope and trust is just beginning.
This morning, I started looking at the Greek to see what the root for hope and trust are, and if they are two separate words or one. I looked at several verses, but these two key ones came forth:
“For we are saved by hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for what a man sees, why does he hope for it? But if we hope for what we do not yet see, then we wait with patience for it.” Romans 8:24-25
“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things unseen.” Hebrews 11:1
The word “hope” in this context comes from the Greek word Elpizo, a verb, which means, and directly translates into TRUST, and is defined as:
1. to hope
a. in a religious sense, to wait for salvation with joy and full confidence
2. hopefully to trust in
These are not meant to be two different concepts. I am not to divide trust to be with my mind and hope to be with my heart. If I am doing that, then I am missing both altogether, as they are one. I need to “trust the Lord with all my heart, and lean not on my own understanding.” I need to have “faith as the assurance of things hoped for.”
I need not reserve an emotional response (what I have been defining as hope), for if I am doing that, I am also reserving trust. The Lord is the Lord of my heart, my soul, my mind, and my spirit. Though different parts, they are meant to operate as one entity, and I am meant to love the Lord as one entity. I am meant to trust and hope with the Lord as one entity. I need not guard my heart against the One who already holds it.
As Paul writes to the Corinthians, “We have spoken freely to you, Corinthians; our heart is wide open. You are not restricted by us, but you are restricted in your own affections. In return (I speak as to children) widen your hearts also.” 2 Corinthians 6:11-13.
And in conclusion, I feel the Lord speaking this also directly to me this morning:
“I have spoken freely to you, Elise, and my heart is wide open. You are not restricted by me, but you are restricted in your own affections. In return, I ask you to widen your heart.”
I’ve always known that these are related, but I think in my life, I have placed a distinction between the two. I would think about trust, and I would think about hope. The definitions in my mind have always been slightly different from one another. Up until recently, I haven’t recognized that this is perhaps a problem.
Last week, I was offered and I accepted a full-time job as an Advertising/Promotions Associate at HarperCollins Publishers in Manhattan. The significance of this is still sinking in. Over a year ago, John and I started praying about a possible move to NYC. In those prayers of asking God what types of things I should pursue, he laid book publishing on my heart. I believe He laid it on my heart as a step into a call I believe I will eventually be doing one day: writing a book. I don’t really know all the steps in between here and there, but I know that God is in the process, and I must be faithful to it.
Back in late May/early June, I remember setting my mind upon this belief: book publishing is a field nearly impossible to get into. I had applied for numerous book publishing positions at different publishers over this last year when we were in Colorado, and I heard absolutely nothing back on any of them. When June rolled around and I knew that we would be moving to NYC the following month, I looked around again. I found a few positions listed and saved them, but didn’t do anything about it at the time. I didn’t really feel like it was worth it. We spent much of June on the road, including our trip out here to find an apartment. On the last day that we were visiting and had a signed lease and address in our hands, I decided to look again in book publishing and see what might be out there. I felt about the same level of enthusiasm as I had earlier that month, but I did find one position that I thought could be a good fit from the position description. I filled out the application in our hotel room, and it was the briefest application out of all the others. It didn’t even ask for a cover letter, something I had spent much time laboring over with the other positions. I clicked submit and left it with the thought of “well, at least I’m trying, and we’ll see if anything happens, though I doubt it.”
It is funny even reading these words I write now to really remember what I was thinking. In my mind, I have trusted the Lord. I know He is faithful to provide and knows my and John’s needs. I have seen Him do it over and over again, and I know I need not doubt Him in this new season. When I was offered this job, I wasn’t surprised. I know it is within God’s character to do so and that He could make a way where there seemed to be no way.
But in the process, I recognize that I have reserved hope.
My first interview at HarperCollins went well. I first met with the HR director, and then with who will be my supervisor. I left the interview feeling good about it, but told myself to not get overconfident, or to basically hope too much. I didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment, especially since it was my first interview, and it was still the first week John and I were living in the city. I knew that things could happen quickly, but thought it better not to outrightly hope for it, just in case. So, I went onward from there looking and applying for more jobs while waiting to hear back from HarperCollins within the week with their decision. “It is the smart thing to do,” I told myself, though deep down inside I had my doubts about it, feeling as if I wasn’t being entirely obedient or honoring to God. Four business days passed since my interview, and I had applied for about 8 jobs at that point. In that process too, doors that were once open closed rather dramatically, specifically with a creative staffing agency I had been in contact with. I knew, deep down that God was working in this situation and making the way clear, but still, I reserved hope until I would hear from them.
Then, Thursday came. I woke up that morning not feeling well at all and with a strong conviction/desire to not apply for any jobs that day. I think God used the sickness to render me listless to do so, because He knows how determined I am to do things when I set my mind to do so. So, the whole day, I didn’t really do anything at all. At about 4 p.m. that afternoon, I received an email from the HR director asking me to come back for a final interview. That wasn’t what I was expecting, but it was progress and I was thankful. It was set up for the following morning.
We went to a prayer gathering at our new church that evening, and there was time to sit still before the Lord individually and pray about certain topics introduced by the elders. One was jobs. As I sat before the Lord, I was honest with Him. I told Him that I was hesitant to hope as I didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment. In that moment though, I knew it was wrong. I knew I needed to present my requests before Him as I desire them, and to trust Him with them. So, I asked Him for this job. I told Him I recognized He had been making a way with this position and into this field, something He laid on my heart long ago and something that I wrote off as being too “impossible.” I asked Him to help me hope and trust that this position is where I am supposed to be, and that the interview the next day would only further that.
And in those prayers, I recognized that it was my heart that has been guarded. My heart, with where I would credit to be the place where hope is born and preserved. As I prayed those prayers, the guards of my heart resisted to come down because I didn’t want to be disappointed. And I wondered how I got here. I wondered, why am I guarding my heart from the One who has created it, the One who has crafted the desires He places within it, and the One who knows it and holds it far better than I can? Why do I feel the need to guard it from its safekeeper? In reality, all I am doing is preventing myself from fully accepting what He has already set into motion and is doing.
And in that time, I knew the reason for the second interview rather than a definite answer about the position. Here was another chance to not only trust, but to hope in the Lord with this job and field. That meant that I needed to heed His leading and requests, to trust and hope that the way He was creating is where I am meant to go. I failed the first time through. Yet His grace offered me another chance.
The interview was the following morning, and I was greeted and escorted by the person who I last interviewed with. She was very happy to see me, and that was reassuring. I interviewed with the director of my department, and it was wonderful. It was like sitting in a beloved professor’s office where conversation flowed easily and well. We talked about things I could do with HarperCollins and their department. We talked about different accommodations that would be needed in the workplace with my hearing loss. We talked through a lot of different things, and when we left, I told her and the person I interviewed with the time before, “See you soon,” as that rolled off my tongue uncontrollably. As I left, I cringed inside for saying that because I thought I would come off as presumptuous, but it had already been done. Yet, inside I knew that things had gone very well, and that there was even more reason to hope and trust for this position, with which I was to wait another week to hear the final decision on.
I didn’t apply for any more jobs. I allowed my logic to be overplayed by the aim of attempting to trust and hope in the way the Lord appeared to be making. So, the week was quiet until Wednesday, when I got an email from the HR director saying he would be reaching out to me the next day about the position. I knew that was a good sign, so I thanked the Lord. The following morning, I received the offer letter for the position, and accepted a few hours later. The job search was done. God was faithful, as always. But the process of reconciling hope and trust is just beginning.
This morning, I started looking at the Greek to see what the root for hope and trust are, and if they are two separate words or one. I looked at several verses, but these two key ones came forth:
“For we are saved by hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for what a man sees, why does he hope for it? But if we hope for what we do not yet see, then we wait with patience for it.” Romans 8:24-25
“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things unseen.” Hebrews 11:1
The word “hope” in this context comes from the Greek word Elpizo, a verb, which means, and directly translates into TRUST, and is defined as:
1. to hope
a. in a religious sense, to wait for salvation with joy and full confidence
2. hopefully to trust in
These are not meant to be two different concepts. I am not to divide trust to be with my mind and hope to be with my heart. If I am doing that, then I am missing both altogether, as they are one. I need to “trust the Lord with all my heart, and lean not on my own understanding.” I need to have “faith as the assurance of things hoped for.”
I need not reserve an emotional response (what I have been defining as hope), for if I am doing that, I am also reserving trust. The Lord is the Lord of my heart, my soul, my mind, and my spirit. Though different parts, they are meant to operate as one entity, and I am meant to love the Lord as one entity. I am meant to trust and hope with the Lord as one entity. I need not guard my heart against the One who already holds it.
As Paul writes to the Corinthians, “We have spoken freely to you, Corinthians; our heart is wide open. You are not restricted by us, but you are restricted in your own affections. In return (I speak as to children) widen your hearts also.” 2 Corinthians 6:11-13.
And in conclusion, I feel the Lord speaking this also directly to me this morning:
“I have spoken freely to you, Elise, and my heart is wide open. You are not restricted by me, but you are restricted in your own affections. In return, I ask you to widen your heart.”
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