By Grace Davis, July 28, 2023.
As Bummer (Birmingham summer) comes to a close, I have done a lot of reflecting. It’s been three months since I wrote my first blog post, sharing the most vulnerable aspect of my life at that moment. I will say I was hurting, and I don’t want this to sound like a success story. This is no before and after. This summer has not been easy by any means. It has made me miss the days when my family would vacation on the North Carolina coast, or my grandparents would take me and my cousins to Disney in matching monogram outfits. Please tell me your grandma always made you and your cousins match. I cannot be the only one.
In all honesty, this summer has been plain, quiet, and at times it has been very, very lonely. A loneliness that I never thought I could even experience. However, loneliness is not always bad when it leaves you relying on Jesus, and recently I have been learning a lot about Him as a friend.
I am currently reading a book called Beautiful Outlaw by John Eldredge. If you have not read it, this is me telling you to move it to the top of your list. The book dives deeply into who Jesus is, but one chapter explicitly talks about His humanity. Eldredge writes how Jesus is the most human face of all, saying, “The ravages of sin, neglect, abuse, and a thousand addictions have left us all a shadow of what we were meant to be. Jesus is humanity in its truest form. His favorite title for himself was the Son of Man. Not of God- of man.”
What a beautiful image of His heart. So humble, so willing. We are broken. He is not. But He was a human. He wasn’t Superman. There is no one else I would rather put all my trust in than a man who brought himself so low to feel everything I feel, to endure everything in this wicked, cruel world. To seek after me.
What a creative and cunning way to be the most remarkable example for all mankind to follow after.
He knows my heart abundantly more than I ever could. He is a consistent guy. He has been there done that. And I am not talking about Pitbull.
Oh, but here is the fun part…. My brokenness. I have found myself in a state of constant complaint, blaming the Lord because I believed He was not doing anything miraculous in my life, not working in my life, not bringing anyone into my life. For example, the house that I am living in is actually rotting away. There was no hot water for three weeks. Every appliance from the dishwasher to the fridge has broken on us. Let alone, I have seen most of my paychecks go toward rent and utilities.
Adulthood is depressing. But it is okay.
I did not work at summer camp like every college kid who attends a private Christian University. I did not go on a mission trip or travel abroad and drink fancy tea. And while that has been hard, I have learned simplicity, quiet, and stillness are okay.
A few weeks ago, I was terribly convicted of my prideful thinking after talking with a friend about it. Who am I to say if the Lord is moving in me? His ways are mysterious. I will never fully understand Him. Isaiah 55:8-9 is a beautiful reminder of this. It says, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are my ways your ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways higher than your ways and thoughts than your thoughts.”
The man who is so close, a friend, is also a complete mystery to me.
To keep with the theme of Isaiah, I was reading chapter 6 just this morning. It is this wonderfully striking moment where Isaiah is witnessing the glory of the throne, the glory of the Lord. Verses 4 and 5 read, “The foundation of the doorways shook at the sound of their (referring to the seraphim) voices, and the temple was filled with smoke. Then I said: Woe is me, for I am ruined because I am a man of unclean lips and live among a people of unclean lips and because my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Armies.”
At this moment, where the Lord is so clearly seen, Isaiah is faced head-on with his brokenness. But something so miraculous about this story is that just a few verses later, one seraph takes a piece of coal from the altar to place on Isaiah’s lips. I presume it was extremely hot, considering the creature picked it up with tongs. (vs. 6) Here is the cool part. The scripture tells us nothing about the pain, and I assume it is because Isaiah was so focused on the throne. "Now that this has touched your lips, your iniquity is removed.” (vs. 7) And just a few verses later, Isaiah volunteers to go on mission for God.
Here is what I learn from this powerful story: The second Isaiah experienced the Lord, the second he stopped thinking about himself.
I, too, can testify that the moment I took my eyes off my uncool summer and stopped comparing myself to what other people were doing with their lives, I began to see the sovereignty of the Father. I fell head over heels in love with His greatness, with his pursuit of my heart.
Because the second we stop thinking about ourselves, dwelling in sin, dissecting our traumas, and sulking in discontentment, we begin to notice God.
I recently listened to one of the most life-changing sermons by Tim Keller, titled “No One Seeks God.” So good that I listened twice, and already thinking about when I will listen to it a third time. It was as if Keller was speaking directly to me when he said, "This condition of spiritually shutting up and just being quiet so you can receive the cure doesn’t mean beating yourself up. “Oh, I’ve done so wrong.” Shut up. You’re still centered on yourself. You have to get to the end of yourself. The only way to begin to get pulled out of the radical self-centeredness of sin is to get to the end of yourself.”
Oh, how I love this man.
We must shut up spiritually, because it was never about us in the first place.
So with this idea of eyeballs lifted towards Jesus, friend yet utter mystery, and every cell in the heart in adoration of His name, I want to end with this quote from the same sermon by Tim Keller. I pray these words impact your heart just as they have impacted mine.
He says, and I quote, "When you really see the salvation of God and what it is, on the one hand, it affirms you to the sky, but at the same time, it humbles you into the dust. That’s why it’s called fear. Let’s call it the joyful fear, awe, and wonder before the greatness of God’s salvation. It turns you out of yourself. It turns you away from the being curved in, the self-centeredness, because, on the one hand, you’re too humbled just to be self-centered, and you’re too affirmed to need to be. Therefore this joyful fear is the cure, and it happens when you see his salvation. You say, “Well, what does that mean? See his salvation? What does that mean?” I’ll tell you what it means. Just think like this, and let’s conclude like this.
Because you don’t seek for God, because I don’t seek for God, because nobody seeks for God,
God’s salvation has to be God seeking for us.”
Friends, it has never been about us because it has always been about Him.
