Yesterday morning I awakened with feelings of anxiety again. As I looked at my life, I could find no reason for these feelings. I have had so many revelations that have resulted in good relationships, good health, abundant supply and anything else necessary for my physical, mental, emotional and spiritual well-being, especially revelations about being freed from the law.
And yet I continued to be plagued by thoughts of my life being useless or inadequate, of deficiencies in my understanding of truth, of confusion about the meaning of Scriptures. So I just gave up and decided to forget it all and go back to the monotony of everyday life. I began by doing some stretching exercises that I’ve been doing for years upon awakening in the morning. I just let my mind go blank and started breathing deeply, refusing to think about anything spiritual.
In a few moments, without even attempting to listen, I began to hear the still small voice speaking to me. The first words I heard were, “You can make your bed in hell, but I will still be there. You can never get away from Me. I will never leave or forsake you, no matter what you do or don’t do.” A peace came over me as I began to hear and understand so much more.
I knew then that I was Peter giving up and going fishing after feeling I had betrayed the Christ whom earlier I had recognized as the Son of God indwelling the son of man. And, also like Peter, I felt this Christ refusing to leave me in that state but coming to me, asking me if I loved Him and instructing me to feed His sheep.
I knew I was Job wanting to reason with God and have Him tell me why I continued to suffer in spite of all my best efforts to understand and obey Him. And, like Job, I heard God tell me that He is much bigger than I will ever comprehend, but not so big that I could not to be in fellowship with Him and trust Him to restore me in the midst of my suffering. And I knew that, like Job, I must pray for anyone whom I felt misunderstood or criticized and condemned me—because they too lack understanding.
I knew I was Solomon who began to see that no amount of well-being on this plane of existence could ever satisfy, that it is all “vanity,” that “of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh” (Ecclesiastes 12:12). I came to the same conclusion he did:
Ecclesiastes 12:13 Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man.
This is precisely what Jesus told the lawyer who asked him what was the great commandment in the law:
Matthew 22:37 Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. 38 This is the first and great commandment. 39 And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. 40 On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.
I knew I was Gideon who kept putting out fleeces to make sure I was really hearing the voice of God when I felt I had been given a revelation and instructed to write it down.
I knew that I was weak like Gideon, but, like Paul, I was hearing God tell me that it was in my weakness that I and everyone else could see His strength pouring through me.
And all at once I saw that this “weakness” in me that has caused me so much suffering, this feeling of fear that I haven’t heard right or done right or written it down right (which I’ve called the hold of the law on me, from which I must get free) is my “thorn in the flesh” which I have so earnestly prayed to be removed from me.
Now I knew that I had to hear what Paul heard, “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness” (2Corinthians 12:9). I’m not implying that the revelations God has given me are on the level with Paul’s, but I am saying that God is showing me that my “weakness” is what will keep me from ever losing empathy and compassion for others, no matter what their particular weakness may be. I will never be “exalted above measure,” no matter what revelation is given me. For perhaps the first time I really began to understand why Peter (who had seen his weakness all too clearly) instructed us to “greatly rejoice” when we are “in heaviness” because our faith is being “tried with fire” (1Peter 1:6-9). I knew that I could now agree with Paul: “Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (2Corinthians 12:9).
I am in no way saying that God makes us sick to perfect us (as so many have interpreted Paul’s “thorn” to be physical illness). But I am saying that I have a new respect for the words of the writer of Hebrews:
Hebrews 12:6 For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. 7 If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons; for what son is he whom the father chasteneth not?
This Scripture has been so misinterpreted that we have wanted to just ignore it. What I now saw was that, being the perfect Father, God does not give to us that which is harmful to us; neither does he remove from us that which is beneficial. I had never felt more deeply that I was the beloved child of God (in whom He is well pleased—(Matthew 3:17; 17:5) than when I was receiving this revelation.
The human ego wants to exalt itself, but self-exaltation never results in spiritual growth. It is our “weaknesses” (in different areas for different people) which keep that self-exaltation in check. They keep reminding us of our need for complete dependence upon God since, in reality, apart from Him the man Jesus could do nothing (John 5:30 I can of mine own self do nothing:) and neither can we:
(John 15:5 I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing.)
So it is of course futile to ask God to remove that which is contributing to our spiritual ongoing. Our mistake is ascribing to God a sovereignty which micromanages our personal lives, arbitrarily making the decision to give us this or that or take it away. No, spiritual laws are in place that God does not violate to satisfy our humanity. One of them (which sounds like God is doing this sovereignly) is that God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble (James 4:6). But when we hear this same spiritual law spoken by Solomon and by Jesus, we can see that it is just a law in operation, applying equally to those who know God and those who don’t—just as the rain falls both on the just and the unjust:
Proverbs 29:23 A man’s pride shall bring him low: but honour shall uphold the humble in spirit.
Matthew 23:12 And whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased; and he that shall humble himself shall be exalted.
God is not punishing the proud person; the effect of being proud is being brought low just as the effect of sin is death, not that God is punishing the sinner.
I began to once again see the Bible as a parable of our spiritual journey out of darkness into light, not a historical record for us to make doctrines out of to debate about. Every story is my story, when God reveals to me how it applies to my journey.
I got up from the floor where I had been exercising, assured that I could continue to pursue my intimacy with God and write down whatever I felt inspired to write (as I am doing now) without the fear that I might get it wrong. It was as if a burden had been lifted, not as I had expected, but much more profoundly effective. I had thought that one day I would awaken and find myself free from fear of any sort. Now I understood that, viewed correctly, that, as “godly sorrow worketh repentance to salvation not to be repented of” (2Corinthians 7:10), I was in possession of a “godly fear” which was working in me a “repentance [a change in my way of thinking about it] not to be repented of,” an ongoing humility toward God as I could never lose sight of my utter dependence upon him for anything that I might receive from Him. This realization will ensure that I never “think of myself more highly than I ought” (Romans 12:3) because my “godly fear” will continually remind me that I am but an instrument of God’s grace, having no ability of my own.