The crackle of the corn burner calls me. My fuzzy, turquoise socks and heavy wrap aren’t enough to take the bite out of a cold winter morning. The melodic trickle of corn accompanies the growing heat on my back. The warmth is matched by the trail of coffee that stirs my innards. Morning light finds a smile of gratitude play on my lips.
I crack open the book wondering why I awoke before my alarm. I’m equally curious as to why the pages land so clearly where they did. I have markers, notes and pens everywhere else. Despite all those signposts my book determinedly parts to clean, unmarked pages.
I read while rubbing the sleep from my eyes. It doesn’t take long until I realize why I’m here. It’s my story.
And it’s intertwined with His.
The truth is, I hadn’t thought about this chapter of my story for a very long time. If I had, I can promise you I’d glossed over it. Decades have a funny way of helping us forget the ugly and cling to the not-so-ugly.
He took me to the book of Ezekiel. “Really Lord?”
My less than awake brain was perked by the words before me. It was a not so pretty narrative of God’s beloved Jerusalem. The author minced no words. This was serious ugly. Cobwebs began to lift and I restated the question. “Are you sure this is where you want me to read today?”
Who am I kidding? Caffeine had kicked in and by this point I’d determined I’d rather read something else. Categorical headings like; People Who Love Listening to Lies, Idols in Their Hearts, What a Sick Soul are not my idea of curling-by-the-fire, coffee-in-hand reading.
But, I pressed on. And true to form He was waiting for me at the end of the chapter. Waiting. Hoping I’d continue. Because more than anything in the world He wanted to whisper to me (again) just how much He loved me.
I forget how much He loves because I forget how much He saves. This life I live in the flesh falls so short of God’s goodness. I’m certain I don’t comprehend…
His holiness.
His righteousness.
His so-much-better-than-anything-I’ve-ever-knownness.
His gift to me this morning was a reminder of that.
You see my story had its own case of the ugly’s. I could share details but then you may be tempted to think one kind of ugly is worse (or better) than another. Truth is, it doesn’t matter. Ugly is ugly. But now for the good part.
Nobody eradicates ugly better than God.
I read my story between the commas and periods of His story…the history of his beloved Jerusalem. I’m reminded how my past choices hurt not only me but Him. Crazy how when we’re bent on sin what it really means is we forget we’re not an island. We’re daughters. Daughters who when we make poor choices break a father’s heart.
You and I are his beloved Jerusalem.
Even if we believe lies (about ourselves, others, or Him), even if we have idols in our hearts; even if our souls are sick; He’s there at the end of the chapter wanting us to turn our lives around.
“The upshot is this, Israel: I’ll judge each of you according to the way you live. So turn around! Turn your back on your rebellious living so that sin won’t drag you down. Clean house! No more rebellions, please.
Get a new heart! Get a new spirit!
Why would you choose to die Israel? I take no pleasure in anyone’s death. Decree of God, the Master.
Make a clean break! Live!” Ezekiel 18:30-32
Can you hear the pain in His voice?
The keeping of commandments isn’t just about honoring a holy God, it’s about listening to a father’s voice when He says, “Little one! Don’t touch the stove! You’ll burn your hand and get hurt!” Oh, how we hurt ourselves when we don’t listen. When we don’t turn around. When we don’t make a clean break, and live…really live.
Live free.
Of course, the pride crushing news is that despite wanting to make good choices, my innate bent always was (often still is) to reach for the stove. And then there it is. Next to the rules that save my life lays the rope that reels me in.
“I’ll firmly establish my covenant with you and you’ll know that I am God. You’ll remember your past life and face the shame of it, but when I make atonement for you, make everything right after all you’ve done, it will leave you speechless.” Ezekiel 16:62-63
It takes a lot to leave a chick like me speechless but his matchless grace does just that.
Imagine. God sent His own Son to atone for a girl that can’t seem to keep her hands off the stove. I guess that’s where my story ends. Speechless. A place with no words just the beating of an awe-filled heart.
How about you friend? What’s your story?
If (like me) the words from Ezekiel prick your soul or burn your hand I’ll hope you’ll read the rest of history. His…story. And I hope you’ll let your story become a part of his.
I’ll guarantee you, the new covenant He made wasn’t just for this DoAhead Woman. The greatest DoAhead ever, was the need God anticipated for each and every one of us and then His provision for that need on a hill called Calvary.
“If we confess our sins He who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” John 1:9
Your (speechless) DoAhead Friend,
Share the Inspiration!
{If you’d like to share what’s moving or inspiring you——link up to Angie Ryg’s Inspire Me Monday (see below.) I also hop over to Suzanne Eller’s #LiveFree link up and Meredith Bernard’s W2W (Women to Women). Take ten minutes to visit them…I pinky-swear promise your cup will not only be filled but stirred! 🙂 }
Beautiful! I don’t spend a lot of time in Ezekiel, but now I’m going to have to go read it. I’m so glad that we have a God who wants to leave us speechless.
I agree Anita!! Thanks for stopping over!