Resting

I have a confession to make: I rarely make it through the pastor’s sermon application and summation without having the “perfect” closing hymn come to mind. Certainly, there could be many hymns that fit the bill, and the one I think of is not usually the one we sing. But that’s not the point.

The point is that my pick for today’s closing hymn actually came before the sermon. It’s been floating around my head the last couple days. In fact, I caught myself drifting to it during the sermon more than once and had to reign in my thoughts so as not to miss anything my pastor was saying. Today, he was helping us understand Moses’ pleading with God in Exodus 33:12-17, pleading with God to go with him. It’s all about knowing God and being known by God. His conclusion was that in God’s presence, in knowing and being known, because of Jesus’ work on our behalf, there is rest and there is joy. All of a sudden, I was right back in the middle of that hymn, the hymn whose words have been floating through my head for the last couple days. We sang a different hymn to close the service, but that’s okay. I love the one we sang just as much, and another day I’m sure it will be the one I can’t get out of my head. But for today, Jesus, I am resting, resting, in the joy of what Thou art.

Jesus! I am resting, resting
In the joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.
Thou hast bid me gaze upon Thee,
And Thy beauty fills my soul,
For, by Thy transforming power,
Thou hast made me whole.

Jesus! I am resting, resting
In the joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness
Of Thy loving heart.

Oh, how great Thy loving kindness,
Vaster, broader than the sea:
Oh, how marvelous Thy goodness,
Lavished all on me!
Yes, I rest in Thee, Beloved,
Know what wealth of grace is Thine,
Know Thy certainty of promise,
And have made it mine.

Simply trusting Thee, Lord Jesus,
I behold Thee as Thou art,
And Thy love, so pure, so changeless,
Satisfies my heart,
Satisfies its deepest longings,
Meets, supplies its every need,
Compasseth me round with blessings,
Thine is love indeed.

Ever lift Thy face upon me,
As I work and wait for Thee;
Resting ’neath Thy smile, Lord Jesus,
Earth’s dark shadows flee.
Brightness of my Father’s glory,
Sunshine of my Father’s face,
Keep me ever trusting, resting,
Fill me with Thy grace.

~Jean Sophia Pigott, 1845-1882

©Erika Rice

 

Break Forth Into Singing

“Sing, O barren one, who did not bear; break forth into singing and cry aloud, you who have not been in labor!” Isaiah 54:1a

Ten days into the new year I can’t shake the promise stalking me since New Year’s Eve. It lurks at every corner, appears with every bend of thought. As sinister as that sounds, it is more like the security of a strong presence on a dark street at night, or the warmth of an embrace when waking from a bad dream.

That’s exactly what Isaiah 54 was meant to be to the people of Israel–comfort after a time of desolation. The people were bereft, abandoned, scattered, grieving and shaken. Yet suddenly they are being told to sing. To sing in spite of their sad state. How does a barren and desolate woman sing? The answer follows in a promise, the promise of blessing and a relationship with God.

“For the children of the desolate one will be more than the children of her who is married,” says the LORD. (Isaiah 54:1b)

“For you will spread abroad to the right and to the left, and your offspring will possess the nations and will people the desolate cities.” (vs. 3)

“Fear not, for you will not be ashamed; be not confounded, for you will not be disgraced; for you will forget the shame of your youth…

For your maker is your husband…

and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer…

For the LORD has called you like a wife deserted and grieved in spirit…

with everlasting love I will have compassion on you,” says the LORD, your Redeemer. (Isaiah 54:4-8)

Such tender, soothing words from a loving maker continue:

“O afflicted one, storm-tossed and not comforted, behold, I will set your stones in antimony, and lay your foundations with sapphires.” (vs. 11)

“In righteousness you shall be established; you shall be far from oppression, for you shall not fear; and from terror, for it shall not come near you.” (vs. 14)

Oppression is far away, because fear is removed. How is this even possible? How can one so oppressed, afraid and grief-stricken believe that good, beyond imagining, can happen? That answer is found before the promise of such abundant blessing, in Isaiah 53.

“He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrow, and acquainted with grief […] He was despised and we esteemed Him not. Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God and afflicted. But He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with His wounds we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned–every one–to his own way; and the LORD has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.” (Isaiah 53:3-6).

He (Jesus) was oppressed, and He was afflicted, led like a lamb to slaughter. (Isaiah 53:7) He knew greater grief than I will ever know, but because of HIS grief, I have the assurance that MY grief will not last forever. The promise of restoration and blessing and a glorious future are mine.

As I look back on the last year and the loss of family members to the ravages of cancer, the new diagnoses of cancer in close friends, see accidents and illness taking their brutal toll, and think of the mothers I know whose arms are now empty, I feel the weight of so much grief. But I know the One who bore those griefs on His own beaten and bloody back, who was stricken, crushed, and pierced to bring me peace. My sins and sorrows were heaped on Him and the anguish of His soul is where satisfaction is made. Because Jesus Christ bore my sorrows first, I am not crushed beneath the weight of sin and grief. I can do as Isaiah said in chapter 54 and break forth into singing! This grief is passing, but the promised reward is everlasting. It’s a reward that  will wipe sorrow and despair from memory.

I am embraced and secure and comforted, and it stirs a song way down deep that can’t help but be sung.

“Fear not, for you will not be ashamed;
be not confounded, for you will not be disgraced;
for you will forget the shame of your youth,
and the reproach of your widowhood you will remember no more.” Isaiah 54:4

“Sing, O barren one, who did not bear;
break forth into singing and cry aloud,
you who have not been in labor!
For the children of desolate one will be more
than the children of her who is married,” says the Lord.        Isaiah 54:1

©Erika Rice 2015