When God is Gentle, Even Though He Shouldn’t Be
Listen to this week’s podcast, BE GENTLE, by clicking here!
A MESSAGE FROM MONICA:
It was one of the darkest times of my life, and yet I drove there and parked the car and walked in the front door. It was our weekly prayer group. A motley crew of five to eight of us who would barge through the front door and drop everything a heap right there in the doorway — our junk, our sin, our issues and our unrealized dreams — and we’d slide into a chair and heave a sigh.
We were safe there. No questions ever asked, no judgments ever given. Just prayer and love and Jesus.
Always Jesus.
It was the always Jesus that drove my car there that night and it was the always Jesus that parked the car and it was the always Jesus that got me through the front door.
It was one of the darkest times of my life. Have I mentioned that? It’s always dark — almost pitch black — when you’re standing in the bottom of a very deep pit…even if it’s a pit of your own digging in which you almost gleefully, almost excitedly dive in head-first.
Dark. Very dark, indeed.
Sitting at the bottom of this pit I could see light, but it was faint and distant. I could see the difference between where I was and where I should be and tried clawing my way out day after day, but could never seem to get a firm footing. The dirt would crumple in my fingers and my toes would slide right back to the bottom.
I never shared about this pit with anyone. I lived in fear of what others would think of me…lived in defiance to the judgment I knew I deserved but hadn’t yet received. I memorized speeches justifying all of it and placing the blame everywhere except on me.
So I hid. I literally and figuratively hid. I still attended church and Bible Study and my little prayer group…but I hid in the back row, and hid behind odd clothing, and hid behind strange behaviors and speech.
And I thought I was doing a bang-up job with my hiding. I really did. I think I even convinced myself that I was fooling God.
Until that night. That night when always Jesus drove me and parked me and ushered me through the front door of prayer group.
During a silent prayer time, each of us huddled with our journals and Bibles and pens, eyes closed and just being still and listening to God, a note was passed over to me. It was from a girl who wasn’t a regular, who knew absolutely nothing about me or my pit.
I quietly opened the note.
“Monica,
Why are you hiding?
– God”
I broke.
It wasn’t that the note was from God that broke me. I didn’t break because of who passed it to me, or because I was afraid she knew what was going on with me.
What broke me were the words. The most gentle, loving, un-accusing, un-mocking, un-judging, words I could have ever read were staring at me in blue ink on white scratch paper with a random corporate logo on the top. Words that could have pointed fingers and reminded me of all the sins I was committing, words that could have condemned and shamed — words I would have expected and even accepted…were blatantly absent.
These words…they were words of gentleness and love and longing and even a bit of incredulity.
The Lord God called to Adam and asked him, “Where are you?” (Genesis 3:9)
The Lord God called to Monica and asked her, “Why are you hiding?” (Monica International Version)
God, the strong hand, was gentle with me, the weak one.
God, having the right, power and authority to do something to me chose to bring it under control to fulfill a higher good.
His graciousness, faithfulness, gentleness and patience are almost too much sometimes.
How can one stand under the weight of such love?
I drove home from prayer group changed. There wasn’t an immediate beaming out of the pit, or change in my circumstances, but I had a renewed sense of determination to get out. I was able to find footing for that first step, and I took it. And then I took another, and then another.
And just when I thought heaving myself out of the pit and into the sun and onto green pastures would be the hardest thing left to do, I closed my eyes and remembered His words — why are you hiding?
Always Jesus.
And I found the last bit of strength to climb out, dust myself off, and rinse away the muck and the mire in the stream He put in my wilderness.
Now it’s your turn!
Write a blog post on what it means to Be Gentle and link up to the blog hop below. Make sure to read the post before yours and leave a comment; we want to encourage each other and expose ourselves to new voices.
Make sure to grab the graphic below to put at the end of your post so others can link up and join, too!
Love you friend! Let’s pray for strength to Be Gentle today.
(For more details on the heart behind our link-ups, click here.)
