A Cry For Help

Dear heavenly Father,

The bird that was chirping…I couldn’t quite tell for sure…but it sounded like it was in distress. I couldn’t see it anywhere, but I heard it. And…it reminded me that you hear everything. And not a single sparrow falls to the ground without your consent.

O, Lord…I, like that bird, need help. Please. (weeping)

I pray, and my eyes moisten, and my vision becomes blurred, and I’m reminded, again, of how little I know. I can’t even see myself walk, let alone, know where…or how to find respite. Please, take me under your wings, and show me tenderness? If not now, when you’re ready, Lord? In season, perhaps?

The ache, Lord – it’s so strong. The longing, feels unbearable…and yet I know that you bore all of my sin hanging, only by nails pounded into a tree through your tender Holy flesh – your Beloved body. I long to be held by that Body. Please Lord, hasten the Day, when you’re ready.

The sun is shining, and yet everything feels so very dark to me. Words that usually cheer, fall flat. I am reminded, again, that You and You alone sustain all things, even each and every breath I take now as I try and suck air. My heart, you sustain with fresh supplies of blood, with every beat, all while keeping it tender, spiritually. I am nothing without you. Even though it feels dark, You shine bright. Just like when the clouds hide the sun, the sun is still shining. Please help me to remember that, Lord.

I fail, Lord, and fail again. And with each failure, your strength is made known in my weakness. And, your grace, delivered with a fresh supply of mercy, shines bright, and your glory is revealed to be even more majestic than thought possible. May my weakness, somehow, give You the deserved glory you require. May it be an expression of my love back to you, somehow. Please, Father? Please, let it not be wasted.

I feel like the young Maple tree, Lord…and I, foolishly try and measure my height and diameter every day, hoping, desperately hoping to see progress or…something, anything. But I’m reminded, again, that your ways are not my ways, and you keep many things hidden, especially the most precious, sacred things…the things you treasure most. And so, in faith, I hope O, Lord, that your Will is being accomplished and nothing is being wasted.

My mind, my body, and my soul are yours, Lord. Do with them as you please. May my life be a living sacrifice of love to you. I know I cannot give you anything you don’t already have…but I still, desperately, want to show You love and love your precious people well. Lord, help me, please.

I…am hungry Lord. Please open your hand and satisfy my desire in season. I put all my hope, all my trust, everything I have in your care.

You are my God. You are faithful and true. Your steadfast love endures forever and ever. I give you all praise, honor, and glory for as long as I live.

I am yours.

I love you.

Please help me.

Amen.

All The Way My Savior Leads Me

All the way my Savior leads me,
What have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy,
Who through life has been my Guide?
Heav’nly peace, divinest comfort,
Here by faith in Him to dwell!
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well;
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well.

All the way my Savior leads me,
Cheers each winding path I tread,
Gives me grace for every trial,
Feeds me with the living Bread.
Though my weary steps may falter,
And my soul athirst may be,
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! A spring of joy I see;
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! A spring of joy I see.

All the way my Savior leads me,
Oh, the fullness of His love!
Perfect rest to me is promised
In my Father’s house above.
When my spirit, clothed immortal,
Wings its flight to realms of day
This my song through endless ages
Jesus led me all the way;
This my song through endless ages:
Jesus led me all the way.

-Frances J. Crosby-

Light Shining Out Of Darkness

God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs,
And works His sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning Providence
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

-William Cowper-

Are You Hungry, Beloved?

Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good!

– Psalm 34:8

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As a lion or a young lion growls over his prey…

– Isaiah 31:4

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But I am like a deaf man; I do not hear, like a mute man who does not open his mouth. I have become like a man who does not hear, and in whose mouth are no rebukes. But for you, O LORD, do I wait; it is you, O Lord my God, who will answer.

– Psalm 38:13–15

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Years ago I owned a dog who had a fondness for large bones. Fortunately for him, we lived in the forested foothills of Montana. In his forest rambles, he often came across a carcass of a white-tailed deer that had been brought down by the coyotes. Later he would show up on our stone, lakeside patio carrying or dragging his trophy, usually a shank or a rib; he was a small dog and the bone was often nearly as large as he was. Anyone who has owned a dog knows the routine: he would prance and gambol playfully before us with his prize, wagging his tail, proud of his find, courting our approval. And of course, we approved: we lavished praise, telling him what a good dog he was. But after awhile, sated with our applause, he would drag the bone off twenty yards or so to a more private place, usually the shade of a large moss-covered boulder, and go to work on the bone. The social aspects of the bone were behind him; now the pleasure became solitary. He gnawed the bone, turned it over and around, licked it, worried it. Sometimes we could hear a low rumble or growl, what in a cat would be a purr. He was obviously enjoying himself and in no hurry. After a leisurely couple hours, he would bury it and return the next day to take it up again. An average bone lasted about a week.

I always took delight in my dog’s delight, his playful seriousness, his childlike spontaneities now totally absorbed in “the one thing needful.” But imagine my further delight in coming upon a phrase one day while reading Isaiah in which I found the poet-prophet observing something similar to what I enjoyed so much in my dog, except that his animal was a lion instead of a dog: “As a lion or a young lion growls over his prey…” (Isa. 31:4). “Growls” is the word that caught my attention and brought me that little “pop” of delight. What my dog did over his precious bone, making those low throaty rumbles of pleasure as he gnawed, enjoyed, and savored his prize, Isaiah’s lion did to his prey. The nugget of my delight was noticing the Hebrew word here translated as “growl” (hagah) but usually translated as “meditate,” as in the Psalm 1 phrase describing the blessed man or woman whose “delight is in the law of the Lord,” on which “he meditates day and night” (v. 2). Or in Psalm 63: “when I think of Thee upon my bed, and meditate on Thee in the watches of the night“ (v. 6). But Isaiah uses this word to refer to a lion growling over his prey the way my dog worried a bone.

Hagah is a word that our Hebrew ancestors used frequently for reading the kind of writing that deals with our souls. But “meditate” is far too tame a word for what is being signified. “Mediate” seems more suited to what I do in a quiet chapel on my knees with a candle burning on the altar. But when Isaiah’s lion and my dog meditated, they chewed and swallowed, using teeth and tongue, stomach and intestines: Isaiah’s lion meditating his goat (if that’s what it was); my dog meditating his bone. There is a certain kind of writing that invites this kind of reading, soft purrs and low growls as we taste and savor, anticipate and take in the sweet and spicy, mouth-watering and soul-energizing morsel words – “O taste and see that the Lord is good!” (Ps. 34:8). Isaiah uses the same word (hagah) a few pages later for the cooing of a dove (38:14). One careful reader of this text caught the spirit of the word when he said that hagah means that a person “is lost in his religion,” which is exactly what my dog was in his bone. Baron Friedrich von Hugel compared this way of reading to “letting a very slowly dissolving lozenge melt imperceptibly in your mouth.

– ‘Eat This Book’ (Eugene Peterson)

I know – beloved. (said tenderly)

You’re hungry – so very hungry. Aye.

Not hungry in a casual sort of way, like a whining child anticipating dinner-time, but (perhaps) more like someone wandering in the wilderness – famished?

Yes.

But, hark! O, my soul! Your King: Jesus, wandered for 40 days in the wilderness before being tempted. He lived the perfect life in obedience to His Father, and suffered, and died, and rose from the dead; all so that He might satisfy the insatiable hunger that ravishes your soul.

You fast: you seek to withhold your grasp, to invigorate your appetite – why? Do you remember why, beloved? You do it so that you can know Him. So that you can suffer as He suffered (albeit only a fraction of what He endured), and know Him intimately in that way!

O, my soul (gentle) – when you desire intimacy…when you long to be close…you are seeking to know your beloved, yes? You are seeking to be One, Together; to participate in every joy, every sorrow, everything! You…wish…you desire…to be bone of their bone, and flesh of their flesh so that you can be united; so that you can share in their every pleasure, their every thought, their every word, their…every part of their existence. Yes?

Yes.

You’re hungry. (said exhaustedly) Good.

Your soul, then, is sick with love. Good.

Therefore, beloved, taste and see that the Lord is good. You have His Words! Notice: the verb is “taste”; it’s not “eat”, it’s not “devour” but “taste”. It’s enough for you right now; enough to be content, enough to tide you over until He comes again in glory – soon. It’s enough until the fullness of Time is revealed.

Some Day, beloved…you’ll be satisfied – in due season.

Are you hungry? Good.

Wait upon your God, beloved.

Be Thou My Vision

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart,
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art,
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light .

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word,
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord,
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son,
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,
Thou mine inheritance, now and always,
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of Heaven, my victory won,
May I reach heaven’s joys, O bright heavn’s Son,
Heart of my own heart, whate’er befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.

-Dallan Forgaill-

So We Sing To Him

Oh sing to the Lord a new song,
for He has done marvelous things!

Psalm 98:1 (ESV)
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And I say, “Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest.”

Psalm 55:6 (ESV)
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Severe trouble in a true believer has the effect of loosening the roots of his soul earthward and tightening the anchor-hold of his heart heavenward. How can he love the world which has become so drear to him? Why should he seek after grapes so bitter to his taste? Should he not now ask for the wings of a dove that he may fly away to his own dear country, and be at rest for ever? Every mariner on the sea of life knows that when the soft zephyrs blow, men tempt the open sea with outspread sails, but when the black tempest comes howling from its den, they hurry with all speed to the haven. Afflictions clip our wings with regard to earthly things, so that we cannot fly away from our dear Master’s hand, but sit there and sing to Him; but the same afflictions make our wings grow with regard to heavenly things, we are feathered like eagles, we catch the soaring spirit, a thorn is in our nest, and we spread our pinions towards the sun.

- ‘For the Troubled’ - The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 19 pg. 21 (C.H. Spurgeon)

O, beloved!

I don’t pretend to know why any of this is what it is here! Don’t pretend to know the mind of God, or why He writes and weaves the way He does.

But what if, just what if part of it all is that He wants us to sing to Him, beloved?

You know how I always prattle on about how every single bit of creation seems to be here for the sole purpose of us seeing and knowing more of our Lord?! Well, what if He created the birds, at least in part, to show us that we can either sit and sing, or we can fly away? And just what if, like birds, we were created to do both, just at different times, in different seasons?

What I’m suggesting, in my rather scattered way, is this, beloved: Perhaps He ‘clips our wings’ with afflictions in this present world, here and now, because it’s the only way to get us to ‘sit still’ long enough to sing to Him!

He must delight to hear our voices, raised in song to Him, yes?! Whether the song is unabashedly joyful or a solemn lament, either way, He desires to hear us, I think? But without His ‘clipping our wings’ we would begin flying away now, would we not?

And, just like birds are created, designed to fly, so we too are meant to fly, One Day! Just not now, not yet, beloved…perhaps?!

When He gives the order, we will fly to Him! Up, up, up; higher and higher! Closer and closer to our Beloved King, to His majestic dwelling place which He is even now preparing for us, and into His warm embrace! The earth and all it’s brokenness becoming gradually smaller as we soar upward! All the old, hard mess left behind, beloved! Can you think of it?!

But beloved? Now is not the time for flying. Now is the time for singing! And you know how much I love to hear your voice, yes? How much more must He love to hear your voice! How it must warm Him, must honor Him, when you raise your voice in song! He wants you near Him, beloved - His precious songbird; that is what you are!

So please don’t be saddened by your clipped wings, my sweet one. They are only thus for a time. The time to fly will Soon be upon us! But in the meantime, we will joyfully, gladly, belt out praise and honor and glory to our Savior King, Together, will we not?!

Yes, beloved. And so we shall!

Day By Day

Day by day, and with each passing moment,
Strength I find to meet my trials here;
Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment,
I’ve no cause for worry or for fear.
He whose heart is kind beyond all measure,
Gives unto each day what He deems best,
Lovingly it’s part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and rest.

Every day the Lord Himself is near me,
With a special mercy for each hour;
All my cares He fain would bear and cheer me,
He whose name is Counselor and Pow’r.
The protection of His child and treasure
Is a charge that on Himself He laid;
“As thy days, thy strength shall be in measure,”
This the pledge to me He made.

Help me then, in every tribulation,
So to trust Thy promises, O Lord,
That I lose not faith’s sweet consolation,
Offered me within Thy holy Word.
Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting,
E’er to take, as from a father’s hand,
One by one, the days, the moments fleeting,
Till I reach the Promised Land.

-Lina Sandell-

Great, Are You, Lord!

Awe-filled wonder, my soul: prostrate;
Beauty, beyond measure:
Christ – my Treasure!

Day by day, O Lord, I give You praise;
Earnestly I seek You, always.
Forever – You – command, my gaze.

Great, are You, Lord!
Heaven and earth, give You glory;
Intricately – You – weave our story.

Joyful, our hearts sing to Thee,
Kissed by Thy grace.
Love: revealed, held by faith – embraced.

My desires, He will satisfy – truly.
Now? In part, yes, but in Time – fully.

O, Lord! What words of mine! can
Possibly express, my love, my affection?
Quiet now, O, my soul! This: be your confession.

Righteousness – His gift – receive!
See now, beloved? His love – bearing;
This: be your covering.

Untold mysteries, still abound.
Vexed: O, my soul! on this pilgrimage;
Wait for the Lord, take courage.

Xi, the fourteenth star in the sky!
You – Lord – are great!
Zealously, I wait.

Peace

My soul, there is a Countrie
Afar beyond the stars,
Where stands a winged centrie
All skillful in the wars.
There, above noise and danger,
Sweet Peace sits crowned with smiles,
And One born in a manger
Commands the beauteous files.
He is thy gracious Friend,
And (O my soul awake!)
Did in pure love descend,
To die here for thy sake.
If thou canst get but thither,
There grows the flower of peace,
The Rose that cannot wither,
Thy fortress, and thy ease.
Leave then thy foolish ranges;
For none can thee secure
But One who never changes -
Thy God, thy life, thy cure!

-Henry Vaughan-

Look Yonder To Calvary’s Mountain

Lo, all these things worketh God oftentimes with man, to bring back his soul from the pit, to be enlightened with the light of the living.

Job 33:29-30 (KJV)

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Look to Me, and be saved,
All you ends of the earth!
For I am God and there is no other.

Isaiah 45:22 (NKJV)

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The great work in conversion is not to make people better, so that they may come to God on good footing; it is to strip them completely and lay them low, so that God may come to them when they are on a bad footing, or rather on no footing at all, but down in the dust at His feet. 

The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which is lost, but it wants God Himself to convince men that they are lost; and the Spirit’s work of soul-humbling is just this - to get man to feel so diseased that he will accept the physician; to get him to feel so poor that he will accept the charity of heaven; to get him to know that he is so stripped, that he will no longer be proud of his fig leaves, but will be willing to take the robe of righteousness which Christ has wrought out. 

Conviction is sent to kill the man, to break him in pieces, to bury him, to let him know his own corruption; and all this as a preliminary to his quickening and restoration. We must see the bones in the valley to be dead and dry, or we shall not hear the voice out of the excellent glory, saying, “Thus saith the Lord, ‘Ye dry bones live!”

. . .

I acknowledge that I was brought to God by agony of soul. I have often said from this pulpit that no man ever steers his barque towards the port of peace till he is driven there by stress of weather. We never come to Christ till we feel we cannot do without Him. We must feel our poverty before we shall ever come and beg at the door of His mercy for help.

. . .

O, dear souls, who are in the dark, if you want light, there is light nowhere but at the cross. Do not look within for light; the only benefit of looking within is to be more and more convinced that all is dark as midnight apart from Jesus. Look within if you want to despair, but if you wish for hope, look yonder to Calvary’s mountain, where the Son of God lays down His life that sinners may not die...Look where God looks, and your comfort will begin.

- ‘An Old-Fashioned Conversion’ - The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Vol. 19 pg. 154-155 (C.H. Spurgeon)

So here’s what I’m thinking, beloved…

Our King, in His mercy, has laid us low, yes? We know that we are lost, sick, poor, helpless, dim-witted, weak, naked, dead. We know that, apart from Him, we would succumb to despair almost immediately, darkness flooding in and claiming us, body and soul. We know that eyes on self equals hopelessness and futility and pain. We now know just how very depraved we are, beloved.

This has been His first gift to us, a slow and painful lesson; us, face down in the dust - confessing, repenting, pleading. But painful like the removing of a sliver, beloved. Sure, it hurts at the time, but it’s necessary to prevent further infection - even amputation or death!

And do you know what I think His next gift to us may be, beloved? {One of many, no doubt!} I think He delights to raise us up! He delights, now that we have been convinced of our immense need, to be the One who will meet our every need! He reaches down for our hand, and slowly, tenderly lifts us.

At first, our eyes, unaccustomed to such Beauty and Light, are cast down. All we can see is the dust on our feet, the blood on our hands; we don’t feel worthy to lift our eyes. We know shame and pain and despair, and even though we don’t want to stay there, there’s something vaguely ‘comfortable’ in that place.

But O, beloved! The beginning of our comfort, do you know?! It’s when our eyes are drawn up, off of self, and up yonder, to Calvary’s mountain, beloved! There we look into the most beautiful eyes of our Beloved Savior! What tenderness! What meekness! What Love! There He is, on the Cross! Taking all that is ours upon Himself, so that we might take all that is His upon ourselves! O beloved! What Love! What comfort! What consolation! Do you see?!

Perhaps we can practice this Together, beloved? Perhaps most of the work is His and our part is simply asking and submitting? I don’t rightly know. But I pray that we can desire this Together, sweet one. Desire eyes up and ask for His help in this.

We can learn this, slowly, can we not? How to choose where our eyes focus? On the clouds, the mountains, the sun, the light, the heavens, all that is Glorious and Good? Our Risen, Reigning, Victorious King?

Yes, beloved. We will choose lifted eyes, Together. And as we do, we will delight in the reality that despair dies and Hope lives! We will fix our eyes on Christ, the author of Hope and the only One who can save us!

Amen.

A Time to Fast

The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast.

– Matthew 9:15 (ESV)

Beloved?

Now, is the time to fast.

Why?

The bridegroom has been taken away from us – for only a little while.

Hark! O, my soul! Don’t despair. He will come again soon – very soon.

In the meantime, we fast, yes? Aye.

We do it for several reasons, beloved:

  1. To honor Him.

  2. To awaken our appetites so we can be satisfied, fully, One Day.

  3. To, more fully, appreciate His mercies here and now.

  4. To remain humble, knowing all good things come from Him – only Him.

  5. To invigorate our neediness, our longing, our desire for Him: our Beloved.

  6. To show him our love, here, now, through patience.

  7. To prove to Him and ourselves: He’s worth waiting for.

How do we fast?

It’s quite simple – logically – yet so very difficult, practically speaking: We don’t grasp. When we have a need, and we will; we don’t take, we ask Him to provide.

O, beloved! I wonder…what would have been the result in the Garden, if Adam and Eve had simply considered Together, and pondered in their hearts, their desire for this forbidden fruit; and instead of grasping after it, asked their God instead?

What would have been His response to them, if they had said something like: “O, God, we know you asked us not to eat of the tree that is forbidden…it…looks so very delicious, may we have some, please? We are so very hungry…and we know you satisfy the desires of all living things. May we have some, please? We won’t grasp after it ourselves, but God, if you give us some, then we’ll know it’s okay to eat of it.”

He may have simply said “No”, and if He did, then we know His will, yes? And then, it’s a matter of being obedient and waiting…or, perhaps, asking again, and again, and again (respectfully, fervently)…pleading with Him for an answer, an explanation, or asking Him to redirect our desires to another fruit, perhaps, that He deems appropriate - that He thinks will better satisfy? I wonder…what would have happened if they would have…asked instead of grasped?

I wonder, still, now – what will happen if we ask instead of grasp? What if, through fasting, we determine to open our hands to receive, good things from Him, instead of taking for ourselves? What if we, instead of despairing, and lamenting our time here in the wilderness without our Beloved; we, with the power of His Spirit, take hold of our perspective and consider this: an opportunity of fasting as His gift to us to help us learn how to ask instead of grasp?

Fasting, in a way, seems miserable…but beloved! What if it’s the most wonderful thing!? We don’t slump down in despair, we don’t droop our heads low…we, gladly, expectantly, ask! And then, we trust, and we wait! knowing He is good, and He loves us, and all He desperately wants is for us to be fully satisfied in Him and Him alone. He doesn’t want us wandering around aimlessly trying to satisfy our own desires with things: good things He’s created even; He wants us to realize that we can, indeed! trust Him to provide for our every need. May I say it once more, please?

He will satisfy the desire of our every need.

You open your hand; you satisfy the desire of every living thing. – Psalm 145:16

Aye – if we let Him.

So, beloved? It’s time to fast! Do you see? Let our tummies growl and grow hungry! Let our hearts faint for Him. May our minds thirst to know Him more than anything else to be known. Let us be sick with love!

It’s Time to fast, beloved! The Bridegroom, He’s coming soon! We must be hungry, and ready! He might even come this very night! (giddy)

A Lovely Ewe Lamb, Named "Flower"

Not so long ago, in a pasture nearby, lived a lovely young ewe lamb, named “Flower”.

This pasture was peculiar to Flower and other lambs there, you see: it held many mysteries. It had some pleasantries: a few green bits of food here and there, scattered throughout; but it harbored thorns too.

Some lambs were quite happy there. Others wandered.

One day, the Good Shepherd called to her: “Flower, come!” She came promptly, expectantly, willingly.

“I’d like your help with something, please.” – He said.

“I’ve lost something – someone –very dear to me.”

She could see the sadness in His eyes, the earnestness in His words.

“Yes, here I am.” – she said.

And so, they went off Together, the two of them. She, cautiously, followed behind Him, with a bit of excitement, but some fear as well. She had never set out on a mission with the Good Shepherd, until now.

She started peppering Him with questions. She, was curious, mostly. But, more than that, concerned.

“Who is lost? Are they in danger? Where are we going? Why do you need me?” – she asked.

“A lamb that is very dear to me is lost. Yes, he is in grave danger. We’re going through the valley. I need him to see you.” – He said.

His answers seemed strange to her. They were “answers”, yes, but every answer He gave only proved to be fodder for more questions still.

“But…who is he? Do I know him? Is he kind? What is he like? I hope I like him! I hope he’s not hurt. Oh dear, through the valley?! It’s dark there! and…there are so many thorns! What good can I do? – I’m not You. Why does he need to see me?” – she continued to baa sheepishly.

“Trust me, Flower, please.” – He said with strength, but total gentleness.
“I cannot answer any more questions just now.” – He tenderly replied.

They journeyed for quite some distance, Together. The lamb they sought, had wandered far. The Good Shepherd had seen him meander, long ago. He let him go, knowing what was best - He knew all things, of course.

Finally, the Good Shepherd paused. He found the little lamb. He bent down and gently lifted him up. His strong arms held him fast. His wool had become matted, torn, and muddy. His eyes were closed tight, puffy with sorrow and despair. The Goog Shepherd spoke to him softly, but his ears no longer worked. He had closed them shut, so that he could no longer hear the Good Shepherds voice.

“Speak to him, Flower.” – He said.

She, thinking to herself, doubting: “What good can I do? He only responds to your voice. He won’t listen to me…is he dead?”

But she, the good little lamb that she was, obeyed His command.

“Hello?” – she timidly spoke.

The little lamb – he slowly perked up one ear and lifted one eye.

“She is lovely.” – he thought.

Then, he saw the Good Shepherd and began to weep.

The three of them journeyed back to the pasture, Together.

The two lambs, looking at one another, followed Him safely Home.

Multum Dilexit

She sat and wept beside His feet; the weight
Of sin oppressed her heart; for all the blame,
And the poor malice of worldly shame,
To her was past, extinct, and out of date:
Only the sin remained - the leprous state;
She would be melted by the heat of love,
By fires far fiercer than are blown to prove
And purge the silver ore adulterate.

She sat and wept, and with her untressed hair
Still wiped the feet she was so blessed to touch;
And He wiped off the soiling of despair
From her sweet soul, because she loved so much.
I am a sinner, full of doubts and fears:
Make me a humble thing of love and tears.

-Hartley Coleridge

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Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven - for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.

-Luke 7:44-47

O, beloved! This woman! Her name, Multum Dilexit - ‘Much Love!’

Do you know how my heart goes out to her?! How I simultaneously desire to be her and fear it more than anything?

You know my longing to sit at my beloved’s feet and weep over them, wiping the dust clean, drying them with my hair, kissing them tenderly, rubbing my hands over them slowly, assessing for any sign of wound or need, bowing as low as I possibly can in humble submission and worship.

You know that my greatest fear is not loving well in this life. Of failing in that. To love poorly…even the thought of it, causes me distress, beloved. I don’t want any half-hearted, tainted, lessened love to come from this being, no matter how weak she is, how frail and dust-like herself. She can {and does} fail at many, many things, but please, Beloved, let me never fail at love?

But beloved?

You know too what brought this woman to this place, yes? ‘Her sins, which are many…’

You know how much I hate my sin, despise it, want to flee from it, be free from it. You know how I don’t want to commit any sin, much less many sins…

And yet…what is our Beloved saying here, do you think? The more you are forgiven, the more you can love? Is that it, sweet one? And love covers over a multitude of sins? Can that possibly be true? I Peter 4:8 says so - ‘Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers over a multitude of sins.’

So…He’s expanding our capacity to love, and in so doing, He’s providing us with even more grace? That’s…preposterous! And quite the paradox, yes? Especially because…He hates sin even more than we do, yes? But He…uses sin to cause us to know His greatest mercies? Is that right, beloved? Is that what ‘Much Love’ and her weeping and her wiping in the dust is supposed to teach us?

I wish I understood better. I understand so little, dim-witted sheep that I am.

Our Savior, He praises her though! Even in the presence of the men, the religious leaders, He commends her, and honors her; she so low, and He so high. This woman, who has sinned so much! Though she is wiping the dust from His feet, He is wiping the dust from her heart! And more, beloved! He is wiping away her shame and humiliation, her regret and reputation! He is offering her full forgiveness, a new way!

She must have melted, beloved. At His tenderness toward her.

You know how I want to be perfect now…

But He wills it not. Not yet.

Perhaps this is why, beloved? Perhaps?!

I will seek to trust Him, even in this. We will seek to trust Him Together, yes? Now and always?

May He be pleased with our paltry acts of love, I pray. And O, that He would bestow upon us, as well, the coveted name - Multum Dilexit, ‘Much Loved!’

His Words

He fears them ‘never enough’
But I; prize them more
Than cloud or sky.

Capturing tender love
So well; nothing so lovely
’Ere befell

My heart, captivated,
Bound indeed; a willing submission,
Kissing his feet.

Taken in by my soul,
Like the choicest of food:
Savoring, rich; amply wooed.

Two beings Soon One
At our King’s command;
All Good given, by His own hand.

For now, his words, his love foretell,
Waiting and longing,
’Til the Day we dwell

Together, forever, intimately;
Apart no more,
But united, you see?

Bringing hope and joy,
To this heart of mine;
Abundant, articulate, so divine.

Each one gives warmth,
In this wearisome toil;
A seed, newly planted, in cold, dark soil.

Flourishing, growing,
A harvest to come;
His, entirely, when we are Home.

O beloved! Your lips
Charm in more ways than one;
Succulent, strong - all praise to the Son!

Yet tender and graceful,
They long for my kiss;
Words, unneeded, for perfect bliss.

When our bodies intwine,
Our spirits, the same;
Whispering love, calling only your name.