Isaiah 18 | Wayfarer

This is what the Lord says to me:
“I will remain quiet and will look on from my dwelling place.
like shimmering heat in the sunshine,
like a cloud of dew in the heat of harvest.”
Isaiah 18:4 (NIV)

Our local gathering of Jesus followers recently went through a book called Walls Fall Down by Dudley Rutherford. The subtitle of the book is “7 Steps from the Battle of Jericho to Overcome Any Challenge.” For those not well versed in their ancient Hebrew history, the battle of Jericho was an unusual event in which the Hebrews marched around the walled city of Jericho, blew their trumpets, gave a shout, and “the walls came a tumblin’ down.”

I had the opportunity to share a couple of the messages from the series. One of the reminders that I gave listeners is that the miraculous events of Jericho happened once. It is an amazing story and there are many worthwhile lessons one can gather from it. Nevertheless, the truth is that it happened just once. Israel didn’t take their Tower of Power horn section on a tour of every city in the land. The other cities of the land would have to be defeated the old-fashioned way.

Along my journey I have witnessed and experienced some amazing things. There have been climactic moments in which God intervened in everyday life in very cool ways. There have been even more moments in which I desperately would have loved for God to intervene, to supernaturally remove the obstacles before me, yet God remained just as the prophet Isaiah described in today’s chapter: quiet, and looking on. I was required to do the heavy lifting, to exercise faith, to learn the hard lessons, to suffer through the hardship.

Some blame God for not making things easier. Some try to package the miraculous into repeatable human formulas and promise that God will topple every wall. Some walk away in anger and resentment at the fact that God toppled walls for some one else, but not for them.

This is part of the journey, and it’s part of the lesson we are required to learn from it as we progress spiritually. Sometimes God acts in amazing ways and climactic events. Often, we are left to the daily slog of faith and the grind of pressing on one step at a time. They are equal parts of the journey and they each have their eternal purposes.

Excuse me while I lace up the hiking boots. It seems I have a long, uninspiring trek ahead of me today. You never know, though. Miraculous things might happen at any moment. Anything can happen.

The Cubs might even win the World Series! 🙂

Featured image: six steps via Flickr

For here's what God told me: "I'm not going to say anything, but simply look on from where I live…."Isaiah 18:4a (MSG)

There have been stretches along the journey when God seems agonizingly silent. There are times when it feels like God is just sitting back and looking on. This has always frustrated me. As a father, however, I think I may be capturing some understanding of this.

As a parent, you spend much of your time heavily involved in your child's life. You talk, help, direct, correct, punish, reward, chastise and praise. It's a very active relationship, especially when your child is young. As the child grows older, more discernment is required as the child must naturally gain some independence and learn to successfully strike out on his or her own path.

Sometimes I still choose to actively speak into my daughters' lives and circumstances. There are still ways I can and will be actively engaged. Other times, however, I don't say anything but simply look on from where I live. My silence is by no means an indication of indifference. My love is not less. My concern is not absent. If anything, my personal anxiety over them is even greater as I love them enough to let them go.

God's message says that when all else passes away three things remain: faith, hope, and love. If I love my child like God loves me, then I must have the faith to let go at the right time and hope God's best for them. I must also have faith that when God, my Father, seems silent in my life, it is not because He's abandoned me. It's actually an indication of His faith, hope, and love for me.

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and crazyfast