the beauty of devastation

I think one of the most merciful things that God could ever allow in our lives is what might seem to be total and utter devastation. Don't get me wrong, I don't love pain, I don't enjoy suffering, I don't innately want hardships, conflict, trials or anything that is synonymous with such things. In fact, I actually like to laugh until I can't breath, savor the moments as they come, drink deeply from the joy well, etc. If I could do this all the time, I probably would. But now, lying level in this place that I am in, whatever the address is, I find it all has a different feel to it. Life, that is. Laughter now crests over quickly, becomes tears and a smile that is pulled from a place deep inside of me. Gratitude looks like not being able to say all that's in my heart because there is just too much. Eternity feels like gentle brushes and breezes, blowing over me, into me. I'm just different. Life is different, but in the very best way. So sincerely thankful, for everything; especially the hard things.

In preparing my heart for service this morning, the title of this blog post kept running through my head. I was thinking about how much beauty has come from this wilderness I've been in. The Lord has been so gracious, so giving, so kind to me in allowing me to walk through the valley that this last season has been. It's just like Him to do it this way. It's just like Him to give life for death, to level to establish, to allow loss that I would gain. I see that there has been severe loss, severe tearing of the heart. Yet, what has been poured into me, what has been measured back to me from the heart of God is much more valuable. I can't get away from the notion that I am incredibly rich, that I posses all things because I posses Christ. How can you be bursting at the seams when you are so entirely emptied? How can you posses prevailing faith and hope when you've just limped bloody off the battlefield? Jesus. Only Jesus.

I think most of us put a maddening amount of energy into staving off the Cross of Christ in our lives. I'm certain I have. When we are confronted in the gardens of our lives, as Jesus was, with the cup of the fellowship of His sufferings, I think we inwardly plead, "Please not that, God. Anything but that." 'That' constitutes something different for each one of us but, it does exist, perhaps even as our deepest fear. I believe God puts His Divine finger on those very things for a reason. I think He actually intends to drive out fear, bring faith to the places that if not exposed or confronted, would serve ultimately as the thing that keeps us from really dying; the thing that keeps us from the Cross of Christ. And it's fellowship we gain when we say yes to the beauty of devastation, to the scorn and glory of Calvary. What could have been seemingly more devastating than watching God's son (the one who's supposed to save all) die a brutal, unjust death by crucifixion?

During worship today He touched me and I was undone and in my moment of weakness, out flowed these prayers that always get me in trouble. He corners me with His worth, His glory and I'm left powerless to say no, to turn Him away. He has His ways.

Lord, do whatever you want.
Just be God.
Mess me up.
Flip the script.
Turn my world upside down.
I want you, no matter what it looks like.

I just prayed a world of hurt right there but you know what? God is really wise. He's so wise that what looks like total devastation, what looks like a criminal's death on a rugged cross; what seems to be hopeless, dark, even dead, He makes beautiful. He makes all things beautiful, especially the suffering Savior's labor for my soul. He got what He wanted on that cross. He got me.

It is a gift to suffer severe loss in this life, to suffer seemingly unrecoverable devastation. It is meant for abundant life, no doubt. It is meant for an eternal gain that makes the riches in this life seem like dung. It is wisdom to suffer loss in this day that we would not suffer on that day. This is at times what mercy looks like in light of an incredibly wise Maker who can see both the beginning and the end. He is glorious in infinite wisdom.

Wow...the beauty of devastation when the power of the Cross resurrects it. Selah.