Letting Go of Egypt

In the desert, as the Israelites walked through the wilderness with nothing but the guiding presence of God to let them know when or where they were going, they cried out against Moses, saying "Would that we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the meat pots and ate bread to the full, for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger." (Exodus 16:3) Focusing on what they were lacking, focusing on their current pain and discomfort, the people of God forgot the conditions they had come from. Though they did have food to eat, their days were filled with very hard labor and cruel treatment by their taskmasters. What they had forgotten, or lost sight of, is that they were no longer under the oppression of the Pharaoh and the Egyptians, but on their way to a land promised them through a covenant between God and Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. In their hunger, they remembered not where they were going, but where they had been. The purpose of their liberation from Egypt was to go out and "Serve the LORD". God wanted them to let go of Egypt and cling to and worship Him for what He did, but more for who He is: Almighty God, creator and father of all.

Recently several areas of my life have been thrown into a state of uncertainty, one right after another, and it's unnerving. Having just graduated from College 5 months ago, I'm finding myself in a similar situation as the Israelites in Exodus. From age 5 until age 24, school has been a constant. Up until now, school has been my Egypt. Now before you draw the wrong conclusion, I loved school. School is the reason for many, many very good and positive memories in my life. I wouldn't trade my experiences I've had during the last 19 years for anything in the world, but school has been my Egypt in the sense that it has consumed a very large part of my time, my attention, and my thoughts. School, while enjoyable, has been a very demanding taskmaster.

Now that I've come out of Egypt, I find myself now wandering in the wilderness. With the way seemingly open on all sides and with no path to follow, I'm dependent on God's guiding presence to lead me safely to the place that He has for me. As with Israel in the deserts of northern Africa, my situation at any given time is somewhat uncertain, and each new situation presents a new opportunity to put my trust in God (or to grumble and yearn for situations past).

I'm confident that everyone, no matter their social strata or economic status, has had, and will have times when their lives seem to be in a state of flux, a time when everything, or a lot of things seem to be changing in an uncertain manner, or with an uncertain outcome. It's at these times that God is wanting us to let go of Egypt, whatever Egypt might be, and trust and worship him for what He has done, what He will do, but most importantly, who He is: Almighty God, Creator, Sustainer, Liberator, Savior, Father, and Son.

Arms High and
Heart Abandoned

This evening, I was singing along with the worship band at this week's Thursday night meeting of the KSU Navigators, and they began to sing a chorus that really made me think and challenged me. The chorus went like this, "I stand, with arms wide and heart abandoned, In awe of the one who gave it all. I stand with arms wide and heart surrendered, all I am is yours." This chorus was repeated over and over again, and this at the end of a rather energetic worship set. Singing this over and over again with my own arms in the air, I began to think about the message that was just delivered by Bob Walz, the speaker of the night. His message was about the thirsting of our hearts and the quenching water of Christ. But in the message, he talked about Jesus using metaphor to turn our minds to spiritual things, which are foreign to us, using physical images, which are very familiar to us. Thinking about this while singing this wonderful chorus led me to think, what kind of metaphor could this chorus hold about spiritual things? Of course, it was speaking of worshiping God with energy and vigor and with a recklessly open heart, but though connected to spiritual things, that is still mostly a physical act. Then this thought popped into my head: Standing with arms high is a way to worship in such a way that others can be encouraged and share in your joy. What other way can I worship in that manner? I can share my Lord with people, share what He's done for me, and share with them the promises that a relationship with Him can hold for them. That's worshiping God just as much, if not more, than singing with hands raised high. But, as the testimony of others and my own personal experience have shown, this may lead to some hardship in the sense that people may treat me differently because of what I've shared with them. People may be inclined to keep their distance for whatever reason. This can produce some heavy heart-ache, especially if my heart is invested in the people I share these things with. But that's the second part of the song's chorus: I stand with arms high and heart abandoned. An abandoned heart is a heart that's been left in the open to be broken; one that's no longer protected from being broken. Abandoning my own heart in order that others might come to know the redeeming grace and abundant joy of a relationship with Christ Jesus is, I believe, a high form of worship. That is a desire of mine, to stand with arms high and heart abandoned, but this is not something that one just does one Saturday afternoon. This is a lifestyle. And it's a hard one at that. To seriously live it out one needs to count the cost, and when I do that, I keep coming to the same point. I see what it will cost, and shrink back. I can't tell you why, because I don't quite know, but I do know that I want very much to have the fortitude to count the cost and say "count me in!" Perhaps what my problem is is that I'm only counting the cost. I'm looking at this lifestyle and thinking, "what will this cost me." I think, what will I need to give up, what will I need to deal with, where and how will this hurt? What I don't consider is, what will this give me. How will this benefit me. What will I gain from this lifestyle, and more than that, what will others gain from this lifestyle of mine. In that light, I can say that the decision gets easier. In living a lifestyle of arms high and heart abandoned, I may loose some friends, but I also may gain brothers and sisters. My heart may be broken when someone I've trusted in, loved on, and laid my heart out before rejects what I have to say and me along with it, but I may also get the chance to rejoice with someone who's just found the fulfilling love and all-sufficient grace of Jesus Christ in their lives. I may loose sleep thinking about the people who haven't responded to Christ's invitation, but I also may rejoice in the ones who have received life, and life eternal. When one counts the cost of this lifestyle, it looks hard and dim and painful. But when one weighs the cost of this lifestyle against the benefit, the scenario changes. We begin to see our life as Christ saw his: in other people. This chorus is my desire for my own life. I stand with arms high and heart abandoned, in awe of the one who gave it all. I stand with arms high and heart surrendered. All I am is Yours.