Amy's Oasis

I have a (childish?) fascination with snowflakes.  I love watching them as they fall swollenly in the gray of a winter day.  I love watching them dance and sparkle in the sun.  Most of all, I love examining them individually, each one different, and each one a miriacle. 

   The other day I was watching them fall onto my coat and was suddenly overwhelmed with the wonder of our God.  Each snowflake that fell was more beautiful than anything that hangs in an art museum, and each one was such a part of our mundane little lives that we hardly notice them anymore.  I imagined God, fashioning each one with His fingers, a mind so rapid and imaginitive that millions apon millions could fall in a second of time - the same second that He is doing all the other things that hold this world in place.  Suddenly I was sad that such a beautiful thing was melting . . . that each one would eventually change shape and form.  Then it dawned on me - changing shape was not necessarily destruction.  It was simply turning into another miriacle - a water droplet.

  And really - why aren't we more amazed? Why aren't we moved to trust Him? We have a God who not only orchestrates the whirlwind, but who perfectly directs every dust particle that moves in the air.  Who not only moves every tidal wave, but who commands even the drops of water that spray as waves both small and big crash together.  Who not only knits a tiny baby together, but who wraps himself in the same skin to become the only man with the power to carry the weight of the sin of the world. 

If you think about it, every miriacle really points to that one.  Because it is the small things that are sometimes really the biggest - more than we will ever know.

It has been said that the strongest people are the people that face life from one posture - on their knees. I remember reading about those people in history whose knees told the story of their life - a life spent in prayer. In particular I remember a missionary who had knees like a camel's. It's always one of those elusive things, isn't it? You pray with people, at your meals, at church, but when was the last time you spent a solid block of time in prayer? An hour? (No, not kidding here . . .) A half an hour? Five minutes?

When I was little I remember thinking about what I wanted to look like when I was old and my body started to reflect who and what I had been in my lifetime. I always wanted smile wrinkles - the kind that make you look as though you are constantly smiling. Now there is something more added to my list - eyes that look upward and knees that are worn from my posture of reverence before my loving and almighty Savior and God.

Steve & I faced a dissapointment last night, but when all was said and done, we had to admit to ourselves that we were partly to blame. We are not constantly in prayer for the people of God, not consumed with God's glory with a passion that takes hold of our whole being. It took the dissapointment to awaken that passion. We are in a spiritual battle, and we so often forget that when there is nothing more to battle than the dirt in our kitchen or the mood of the person who lives with us. There is a battle for the name of God to be upheld and treasured in our lives and in our churches! And the battle is more often than not fought on our knees.

Prayerlessness is evidence of our hearts. It means that
1) We are self-sufficient and think we can do it ourselves, whether we think that conciously or not
and/or
2) We are self-satisfied and too easily contented with our lives, not even noticing the filth in our own lives or the world around us
and/or
3) We are ignorant and foolish

Do we really know our need? Do we really know our God?
Do we really know that God is inviting us to know Him? Do we really want to know Him, or is that simply too scary for us to face? Are we scared to face a God who is perfect, who will know us through and through, who will know our sin with utmost clarity? Are we willing to rest in the arms of a Savior and let Him cover us, or do we foolishly cling to our own righteousness, trying to cover our nakedness with filthy rags? Are we willing to let Him KNOW us, know every part of us? It is hard. With all our sinful foolishness, it is hard.
And yet . . . Jesus promises that sin is harder in the end. "My yoke is easy and my burden is light," He said. "Pray - Pray without ceasing." We are invited to His throne room, to have communion with Him. What a burden - yet what a privaledge!

Here is my prayer for tonight:
Lord Jesus, our Savior,
Make us prayer warriors, we pray! Fill us with your Spirit, as you laid your hand on Nehemiah to pray, as you heeded Hezekiah when he laid his enemy's letter before You in Your temple. Fill us with your Spirit, move us to greater and deeper communion with you - communion that overflows to the people in our lives, that causes us to grow and others to grow through us. Show us what the real battle is, and give us wisdom to fight it with all our hearts. Give us the posture of humility - the bended knees, the hands open and uplifted to you, giving everything over to you and also recieving from you. You are mighty and awesome and holy, oh Lord, and we praise you. We want to know you, to have you know us. Consume us with your glory & the desire to have your church built and your kingdom advanced! We love you, Lord - we love you with a passion that we pray you will never let die.
Forgive us for our prayerlessness and self-sufficiency we pray.
In the name of our precious Jesus we pray, Amen.