For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, "Abba! Father!" ~ Romans 8:15 (NASB)
Abba Father, there are days that come when we feel so overwhelmed by our life circumstances; by the situations and events we see taking place all around us; by the people in our lives who are often abrasive, deceitful, difficult to love or forgive -- cold and uncaring or just plain too busy for us.
Things aren’t working out the way we want them to; life isn't turning out the way we’d hoped, dreamed or planned. We cry out to You in desperation, but our voices echo back to us, our tears splash back on our faces and we feel alone in our struggles and our desperate needs. We wonder where You are in the midst of these dark and violent storms, these fiery trials and frightening happenings, these climbs up the steep mountainside......are You listening? Why won’t You answer the cries of Your children? We are anxious and afraid.
Oh, but Abba, You DO hear us and recognize our voices. You are well aware of our circumstances, You know exactly what we need. You see us in our wilderness and You are not surprised to find us there. You are with us, right beside us in the lonely deep, dark pit or in the chaotic and frantic crowd, although we find it hard to see You through our tear soaked eyes, and to hear You and feel Your presence above our rapidly beating hearts, racing minds and shaking bodies.
Help us to be still and know that You are God, and that You are constantly working behind the scenes in our favor, although we can’t see the work being done nor the fruit of that work as yet. Perhaps You are leading us down a path we don’t want to travel. Perhaps You are preparing us for something yet to come. Or You are teaching us a hard and painful lesson we don’t wish to learn. You tell us, “Follow Me,” but we are afraid of the destination and the unfamiliar change of scenery.
Help us, dear Father, to trust You totally and completely, because we know that You are merciful, forgiving and compassionate, always offering us Your amazing grace and unfailing love. You have ransomed us; You know us well, calling us by our names because we are Yours. When we pass through the deep waters, You WILL be with us; when we go through rivers of difficulty in our lives, You WILL NOT let us drown; and when we walk through the fires of oppression, You WILL NOT let them burn us up nor allow the flames to consume us as we fear they will.
We are so very precious to You and You love us. Help us to remember this, dearest Abba Father, and to not be afraid, no matter what. We ask this in the wonderful Name of Jesus, amen.
Why should the Father bother to call us His children?
Why should the Spirit hear it when we pray?
Why should the Father bother to be concerned with all our needs?
It's all because of what the Son has done
And we cry "Abba Father, Abba Father
Abba Father, Abba Father"
We cry "Abba Father, Abba Father
Abba Father, Abba Father" ~ Why Should The Father Bother? by Petra
I’m at the beach on vacation this week with my kids and their two friends. Brigantine Beach is a lovely little town, hidden in the giant shadow of bawdy and obnoxious Atlantic City. So many people I’ve spoken with have never even heard of Brigantine Beach, and that’s fine by me. It’s quaint, it’s quiet, it’s friendly, it’s like the town that time forgot; you can actually go out somewhere for any length of time, leave your doors unlocked and windows open and come back to find nothing tampered with. We’ve been vacationing here for 8 years and I love this place.
I’ve done some dumb things here over the years. Once, I locked my keys in the car while I was at the Laundromat around the corner and had to pay a ridiculous amount of money to the garage across the street from it to come get them out. Another time, I ‘forgot’ to drink plenty of water on a very hot day while hanging out at the beach with my kids and a dear friend of mine, and wound up dehydrated, causing my one foot to cramp so severely that the beach EMTs had to drive over to our blanket, pick me up, place me in their vehicle and escort me back to the house. I’m not sure who was more mortified…me or my teenage son and daughter!
Tonight, while my kids and their friends took a walk over to the nearby park to play some tennis, I decided to stroll down to the beach by myself. I love to stand by the water with my feet in the cool, wet sand and watch and listen to the waves breaking. To me, there’s so much of God’s beauty and power and majesty in them, and God‘s presence seems so very intense there. When I started off, it wasn’t dark yet -- the sky still was still alight with some brilliant streaks of purple, pink and orange.
I whispered out loud, “Jesus, this place is so beautiful, but PLEASE GET ME OUT.” I was trusting Him to guide me back. I looked down onto the sand and realized there was just enough light there for me to take the next step…and another…and another. I looked towards where I had come from earlier, but still saw nothing but pitch black darkness in the distance ahead. I could only see what was directly in front of me, and I was trusting in Jesus for each and every slow and steady step. I plodded along slowly and carefully, eventually making it off the beach.
As I headed home down a well lit street, I thought about how this little scenario related to my life. There have been times in my past where the destination ahead looked extremely dark, hopeless and foreboding. The proverbial light at the end of the tunnel seemed nonexistent, and I had no idea how I was going to make it from Point A to Point B. And sometimes, I wasn’t all that certain there even WAS a Point B. Fear, doubt and anxiety danced around me like some demented playmates, taunting me loudly. I’m currently journeying down another one of these paths. A simple phone call earlier in the day brought some disheartening news and the future of someone close to me may be in for an unexpected and unwelcome change. After the phone call ended, I just lowered my head and burst into tears. Right now, it looks pretty dark and ominous up ahead, and I must admit, I‘m anxious and somewhat afraid. Yet through all of these kinds of moments and seasons, Jesus reminds me that I don’t need to be anxious or worried or afraid or even doubtful about anything. No matter how dark it looks, He simply asks me to cry out to Him and to trust Him to give me just enough light for the next step I am to take.
Sometimes only the step I’m on,
or the very next one ahead,
is all that is illuminated for me,
God gives just the amount of light I need
for the exact moment I need it.
At those times I walk in surrender to faith,
unable to see the future
and not fully comprehending the past.
And because it is God who has given me
what light I have,
I know I must reject the fear and
doubt that threaten to overtake me.
I must determine to be content where
I am, and allow God to get me where I
need to go.
I walk forward,
one step at a time,
fully trusting that
the light God sheds
is absolutely sufficient.
