When the Wind is Loud and the Land is Dry

My apologies. This was supposed to post on Friday. I found it in draft mode today.  Go figure...

On Wednesday, I mentioned the dry spot I find myself in. Like standing in the desert, waiting for rain. How convenient (I don't believe in coincidences, or luck. I believe in divine appointments.) that I came across this song on Pandora last night:
 

 

"Desert Song" starts out with a verse about God bringing Moses and the Egyptians out from under Pharaoh's rule, walking them through the sea as it moves aside.

I immediately thought of how living in the bondage of our sins, whether they are perceived or presumptuous, is like living in bondage under a mighty ruler. We so desperately are driven by that sin day-by-day as we toil and sweat under the weight of the guilt it brings to our hearts and minds. We crave a drink of life. We starve, looking to the heavens for nourishment and finding none. We walk on blistered feet down paths never intended for man to travel. We buckle under the weight of it all and finally fall to our knees, exhausted, unable to go any further.

Until Moses (fill in Jesus) comes with a message from God and commands the sin in our life to let go. Because under the blood of God's precious Son, darkness must flee. The clouds of life part and the tunnel has light at the end and the seas rear up and move out of our way. Because God calls us out into His glorious presence. He calls us forth to a new life with Him.

And then we have a choice. Will we worship Him in spirit and in truth? Or will we find our way to the wilderness? I choose worship. I choose freedom. I choose life.

How do I avoid the wilderness and enter into a heart of worship?

1. I turn on the praise. I have a "Jesus Radio" station on Pandora. I've listened to three hours of Jesus music--mostly worship songs--tonight as I've worked and typed and worshiped. My heart has lifted the name of God high. As a result, my spirit has lifted, as well. The frustration has released its grip. The overwhelming weight has dissipated. I smile instead of scowl.

2. I pray. I pray when I open my eyes. I pray while I pack my husband's lunch. I pray while I yell at the kids (that I would have more patience). I pray before I read the Word. I pray while I shower. I pray before I turn out the light. Is it always out loud? No. Is it always for an hour straight? Hardly. Is it long-winded? Not a chance. Is it always a request? Nope. My prayers are in the moment. They are short, brief, to-the-point. Once in awhile they are written or whispered or hollered from the top of my lungs.

3. I read the Word. No matter how dry I feel, the Word is always living water. I may be so parched I can't recognize its life-giving power, but with every drop I remain alive. I may be scorched in my sin and floundering like a fish out of water, but I will not wait for someone to pick me up off my bed of life and drop me into the pool as the angels come to stir it. No, I will inch closer and closer to re-hydration with every line of Scripture.

4. I give thanks. God deserves my thanks regardless of how I feel in this moment of life. He doesn't put me into my sin. I do. Why bemoan Him when He is my Refuge and my Strength? No. I will not complain. I will thank Him for my salvation. I will thank Him for the victory already won. I will thank Him for the storehouse of blessings coming my way. I will thank Him for just being the One Who Sees Me. 

5. I press on in the midst of adversity. I wait on the Lord. I still my thoughts and listen for the still-small voice. I wait as the wind, the earthquake, and the fire pass by. I look for the seas to part and the Promised Land to come into view. Because I know it will. God called me out of the darkness into His marvelous light. His word over my life never comes back void. I stand on the promise of the joy of salvation. And I wave my hands heavenward.

What do you do to make it through the dry places? What facet of faith do you cling to? What Scripture brings life into your heart?