I don’t think I can recall a single month of my life that has been filled with so many emotional roller coasters.   Cancer, suffering, death, heart surgeries, impossible medical odds, uncertainty – in the lives of family and friends.  It seems so trite to say “God’s in control” (and certainly, if you say it off-handedly enough to the right suffering person, it can be like salt in the wounds).  Yet, as followers of Christ, sometimes the ONLY thing that anchors us in such spiritual, emotional, and physical turbulence is the unshakeable knowledge that there is a God, and He is firmly in control.

For the next several days, I’d like to just sit and meditate on Isaiah 40.  It has always been one of my favorite passages of Scripture.  The poetry of it is immensely beautiful, but the reality behind it even more stunning.  God is promising restoration to a nation that has backslidden.  But the promises threaded throughout this passage are timeless and relevant to people of suffering of all times, regardless of whether you are backslidden or not.

“Comfort, comfort my people,
   says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
   and proclaim to her
that her hard service has been completed,
   that her sin has been paid for,
that she has received from the Lord’s hand
   double for all her sins.

A voice of one calling:
“In the wilderness prepare
   the way for the Lord;
make straight in the desert
   a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be raised up,
   every mountain and hill made low;
the rough ground shall become level,
   the rugged places a plain.
And the glory of the Lord will be revealed,
   and all people will see it together.
For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

A voice says, “Cry out.”
   And I said, “What shall I cry?”

“All people are like grass,
   and all their faithfulness is like the flowers of the field.
The grass withers and the flowers fall,
   because the breath of the Lord blows on them.
   Surely the people are grass.
The grass withers and the flowers fall,
   but the word of our God endures forever.”

You who bring good news to Zion,
   go up on a high mountain.

You who bring good news to Jerusalem,
   lift up your voice with a shout,
lift it up, do not be afraid;
   say to the towns of Judah,
   “Here is your God!”
See, the Sovereign Lord comes with power,
   and he rules with a mighty arm.
See, his reward is with him,
   and his recompense accompanies him.

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…”

County Shannon Ireland – rich pasture land in Western Ireland. Sheep and cows are seen regularly on these hills

Sunrise view from Chilhowee Mountain Retreat in Tennessee – looking over the Smokies. It was a powerful reminder that “His mercies are new every morning…”

It was an incredibly long day yesterday for Ben and his family.  A nearly 12 hour surgery that the doctor described being “difficult” and at times “hairy”.  Not two words you want to hear from your surgeon.  On her facebook page, Jenn commented late last night – “Just saw Ben a little while ago….so many wires, tubes, etc. but he is alive.”  Ben is not out of the woods and there are critical days ahead.  And so much uncertainty about the future.  Please continue your prayers for this family.  Ben needs a miraculous touch, he needs all of his organs to begin functioning again, he needs permanent healing.  His family needs the kind of assurance that can only come from the Spirit of God, Himself.

Another devotional I had read yesterday reminded me of Psalm 147, which has a promise I felt was completely relevant to not only Ben’s condition, but to many suffering people I know.

“Hear my cry, O God;
listen to my prayer.

From the ends of the earth I call to you,
    I call as my heart grows faint;
    lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
For you have been my refuge,
    a strong tower against the foe.

As I write this entry early in the morning, a good friend of mine prepares for surgery.  It is his second reconstructive heart surgery in about a month.  For a 37 year old, this is unimaginable.  The emotional, spiritual, psychological, and physical roller coaster Ben, Jenn, and their entire family have hoped was slowing towards an end is in fact ratcheting up for another round, almost as if its operator is asleep in the booth. At least, that’s how it can seem.

For Ben, the moments ahead are intensely fragile. He is completely in God’s hands. Like a leaf swirling in uncertainty. Like the faint hearted psalmist above, Ben and his family need the Lord to lead them “to the rock that is higher than I”. Would you join me in prayer this morning for God to literally extend the years of Ben’s life? To be a very present and real refuge to his wife and kids. Would you pray with me for God to literally create a new heart within Ben?

Father, in this universe there is nothing that surprises you or catches you off guard.  You are Sovereign and you are Good.  We feel so harassed by our circumstances, fragile, dizzied, and out of control.  Would you rescue and sustain, heal and restore, strengthen and renew Ben and his family?  Would you supernaturally do what doctors imagine is impossible, that we, together with all your saints who have fought and struggled in the faith, would glorify your name and tell the world of the wonders you’ve done.  Would you do this in the lives of every faint and battered heart that may read these words – showing yourself Great, showing yourself Loving, and showing yourself Good.  We put our trust in you, King of the Universe – we love you.   In the powerful name of Jesus,

Amen

Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, I can make a claim most can’t who grew up on the East Coast – I had a redwood tree in my backyard.  Redwoods are amazing trees.  My mom often tells the story about me and my friends climbing up in that towering tree.  On one particular afternoon, she was walking beside our house and heard my voice call out “Hi Mom!  I’m up here!”.  To her terror, I had climbed nearly to the top of that tree, to the place where the limbs get conspicuously narrow and flimsy.  I vaguely recall the sway of the top of the tree, and thinking nothing of it.

When I look back on that crazy climbing feat, I wonder first what possessed me as a child to climb to the top of that tree.  Second, I wonder just how I managed to do it without becoming paralyzed by fear.  I think the answer is simple….I never looked down!  There was one goal on my mind:  reaching the top.

Sometimes our lives are filled with grief, suffering, and severe emotional strain.  It’s like we’re climbing an enormous tree in the hope that the top offers salvation, or at the very least perspective enough to understand why the suffering.  But that top can seem an eternity away.  And the higher we claim, the more paralyzing the prospect of losing our grip and falling to oblivion.

When Tina and I visited the West Coast again in 2007, we had the opportunity to drive through the Redwood National Forest.  Tina had never seen the West Coast, and had never seen trees this enormous.  I have to admit, even having grown up in the NorthWest seeing the immensity of these ancient trees humbled me.  It was awe-inspiring.

And though the redwood tree in my backyard was nowhere as massive as these majestic beauties, gazing up I remembered my courage as a child, and now, as an adult, thinking how such a feat was unthinkable.  “I’d never make it to the top of that tree” I thought.  And from the base I was overwhelmed by a sense of my smallness.

I suppose that’s a good place to start, however.  Reminded of our smallness, and by comparison the utter Greatness of God.  God was the designer, the planter, and the sustainer of these trees.  And like these trees, our suffering, which can seem as endlessly tall and unscalable, need not intimidate us or paralyze us with fear and doubt.  God calls us to climb, keeping our eyes fixed on Him.  Looking up constantly gives us the strength to grapple one limb at a time, to ignore what’s below and behind and keep focused on the end.  And with every inch we climb, we get nearer to that end.  Keeping our eyes on Christ reminds us that He is the creator of the tree, and strange as it sounds, there is security in that tree as we ascend higher in His strength.  For His glory is found there, in the most treacherous and stressful points of our climb.  This is how majestic and great our God is – He can make even the turmoil of our lives shine His glory, and bring Him praise.

I wonder if this isn’t part of the picture Isaiah paints in Isaiah 55:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.
As the rain and the snow
    come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
    without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
    so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
    It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
    and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
You will go out in joy
    and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
    will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
    will clap their hands.
Instead of the thornbush will grow the juniper,
    and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.
This will be for the Lord’s renown,
    for an everlasting sign,
    that will endure forever.”

(From Isaiah 55, NIV)

Isaiah was prophetically writing this to a national audience that would experience the severest suffering imaginable.  Yet, God was promising that for those who returned to Him, and who kept their eyes upon Him through the harsh suffering, He was going to bring a miraculous restoration – “Instead of the thornbrush will grow the juniper…”.

That tree of suffering that you are climbing – it has an end, and it has a top from which you will be able to finally see things not viewable from below.  But perhaps the greatest miracle in that climb is that as you keep your eyes on Christ who calls you upward, you will find that tree breaking into song beneath you, clapping its hands and reminding you of the unfathomable greatness and love of God.

Tina standing in the “Chandelier Tree” – a tree through which you can drive a small vehicle.

“Thus says the Lord God: “I myself will take a sprig from the lofty top of the cedar and will set it out. I will break off from the topmost of its young twigs a tender one, and I myself will plant it on a high and lofty mountain. On the mountain height of Israel will I plant it, that it may bear branches and produce fruit and become a noble cedar. And under it will dwell every kind of bird; in the shade of its branches birds of every sort will nest. And all the trees of the field shall know that I am the Lord; I bring low the high tree, and make high the low tree, dry up the green tree, and make the dry tree flourish. I am the Lord; I have spoken, and I will do it.”
(Ezekiel 17:22-24)

This curious passage from Ezekial is part of a larger parable God gives Ezekial regarding God’s judgment on King Zedekiah of Judah – and the people of Judah by proxy.  For more information on the parable itself and its meaning, check out this brief explanation at Bible Gateway.

To distill the whole scenario down a bit, Judah’s leadership had wholesale ignored all of God’s prophets and their prophetic warnings regarding Judah’s need to repent of all its bloodshed, idolatry, injustice, licentiousness, and outright disregard for God.  Leading up to the Babylonian captivity and exile, Judah’s morality had ebbed to its lowest point, striking rock bottom, and permanently breaking its moral compass.  Instead of simply turning to Yahweh, repenting, and embracing His covenant again, Judah’s leaders felt they could negotiate their own course to peace with Babylon.  When it was obvious that wasn’t possible, they (Zedekiah) turned to the Pharaoh of Egypt instead for military support, a move which would ultimately cost him the kingdom, and his very life.  When, all along, God was beckoning him, and all of Judah, to repent and to trust in His wisdom.

It’s extremely sad….tragic really, when in duress we choose to run to every other human resource imaginable instead of the reliable, compassionate, strong arms of our Holy God and King.

And despite this sad state of affairs for Zedekiah and the unrepentant masses of Judah, God still brings a promise.  He will swoop down as the ultimate Eagle, break off His own sprig, and plant it on a high and lofty mountain.  It will become a dwelling for every type of bird and a shade for all who are harassed and “lowly” in spirit.   This is a messianic prophecy and that “tender shoot” planted by God’s design in the driest, most unlikely mountain dwelling is none other than Jesus Christ.

I believe this Ezekial parable has two messages for us today:

First, it’s never too late to turn to Christ in repentance.  The worst thing we can do is trust in our own cleverness, resourcefulness, or strength.  It is our nature to try to run to human powers, institutions, and game plans when life gets challenging instead of running immediately to God.  This was Judah’s devastating tendency, and it continues to be ours today.   Whatever you are facing, before you consider anything else, run to God and His mercies.  His strength and wisdom is ultimate and unending.  He may lead you to pursue help from human resources or institutions, but if you don’t start with Him you’ll miss the path He intends for you.

Second, Christ is that tree planted on the heights (the desolate, unexpected places) that beyond comprehension or explanation, becomes a life-giving shelter and resource of strength to all the weary and beaten-up in spirit who flock to His branches.  I find that comforting.  God didn’t plant Him in the middle of the most fertile valley or by an Oasis – as if He was a desert mirage – but He is right there present in the midst of our desolate places and life experiences.  Isaiah prophetically described Him as a man accustomed to suffering, bruised and afflicted for our iniquity.   All for our redemption.  Jesus suffered, and that brings us great comfort, because He KNOWS suffering, and He KNOWS bitterness of soul.  But He also knows victory, resurrection, and redemption.

With a Savior like this, why would we ever run to an inferior worldly or human alternative?  Today, whatever it is you are suffering, whatever affliction you bear, run to God first, cry out to Christ and find shelter in His sturdy, weather-worn, resilient, and life-giving branches.