Hooked

When I was in third grade, I vividly remember playing the same game every day at recess.  It was called “boys chase the girls”.  Yeah, real creative name, right?  Well, just as the name describes, the boys would chase the girls all around the playground, and we would scream and cry, “No, leave us alone!”  There was one time when a teacher came up to us and told the boys to stop.  She said, “Can’t you hear them?  They’re asking you to stop.”   I remember looking up at her and saying, “No, we don’t want them to stop.  It’s fun.”

From the time we are little girls, the desire to be pursued is profoundly ingrained into our hearts.  There is something fun indeed about being chased by someone who desires you.  We enter into adulthood with these same desires, hoping that the man of our dreams will chase us, catch us, and carry us away.  If he’s smart enough, he’ll know that the running away is merely part of the game. 

Whatever you are going through today, you are loved. You are loved by a King who bears your name on His nail-scarred hands. It’s a make your knees tremble, heart skip a beat, do crazy things kind of love.  And He is zealously, passionately, and jealously pursuing your heart.  Right now.  Right here.  HE WANTS YOU TO BE HIS AND HIS ALONE!!!!

The problem is we like to run.  After all, it is part of the game, right?

“If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them gets lost, what will he do? Won’t he leave the ninety-nine others in the wilderness and go to search for the one that is lost until he finds it? And when he has found it, he will joyfully carry it home on his shoulders.” Luke 15:4-5

I struggle fully understanding the imagery of Jesus as my shepherd. Every sermon I’ve ever heard on it highlights the fact that sheep are stupid. They wander around, getting into trouble because they are too dumb to stay focused. Shepherds use their crooks to catch straying sheep.  The curve at the top of the crook is just the right size to fit around a sheep’s neck.  When we think of Jesus as our shepherd, this image often comes to mind.  We picture a man who is constantly grabbing those trouble-making sheep who can’t seem to get their act together.  There have certainly been times when I’ve been caught red-handed wandering to who knows where.  I can wake up in the morning determined to stay on course, but it seems like something always draws me away.  Whether it’s a thought that reminds me of the hurt I’ve experienced, or the temptation to surrender to pride and selfishness, I so easily wander away from who I am created to be.  Sometimes I run ahead of God, telling Him which way to turn because I’m pretty sure He doesn’t know where He is going.  And then there is always the tendency to think that I can do things on my own.  I’ve experienced the discipline of being pulled back to where I belong.  It doesn’t feel good, but I’m glad I have a shepherd watching out for me.

If we only see Jesus as the one who keeps us in line, though, we’ve missed the point.  There is a difference between being caught and being hooked.  The word hooked means, “To be captivated by or devoted to.”  How do you view Jesus?  Is the staff that leads and protects you one that must always be catching you?  Or are you hooked?  Are you captivated by the love that He freely offers you?

I want to be more than just caught by His embrace.  I want to be so hooked that I won’t ever want to wander away again.

Isaiah 40:11

He will feed His flock like a shepherd.  He will carry the lambs in His arms, holding them close to His heart.  He will gently lead the mother sheep with their young.

Are you doubting God’s love today? Are you struggling with disappointment or loneliness? Are you tired, frustrated, and let down? Are you unsure of your worth?

Let Him carry you in His arms, close to His heart. For that is where you belong.

Detours and Dead Ends

The curtains were picked. The paint colors were chosen. The garden was planned. The chicken coop was designed. The papers were signed…our offer was strong. I even had my facebook update ready.

Driving home from the gym, smiling at glistening snow while children sang along to the music, that’s when the call came. That’s when I got the answer to my earnest prayers.

NO again. It seems that that is the only answer we ever get. No…No…No…

I had told myself over and over not to hold on too tightly to this dream. Yet deep down I could not deny how devastated I would be if it didn’t happen. I told God that I would praise Him regardless. I did. I praised Him because I know who He is. He doesn’t play games. He doesn’t dangle carrots in front of us and watch us chase them, even though it seems like it sometimes. His plans are good for our life. His dreams are big for our family.

My praise didn’t feel complete, though. I couldn’t escape the nagging feeling that God had made a mistake this time. Didn’t He realize how much I wanted it? Couldn’t He see how ideal the location would be for ministry? We had prayed for months for this house specifically. The doors kept opening. Why does He always lead me straight into disappointment?

I was reminded, as I often am, of the Israelites standing hopelessly before the Red Sea.

When Pharaoh finally let the people go, God did not lead them along the main road that runs through the Philistine territory, even though that was the shortest route to the Promised Land…So God led them in a roundabout way through the wilderness toward the Red Sea Exodus13:17-18

What?  A roundabout way through the wilderness!  If you look at a map of ancient Egypt, you will notice that in order to get from Egypt to Canaan, the people did not need to travel anywhere close to the Red Sea.  It’s a straight shot along the Mediterranean Sea, which should have taken around eleven days.  But God didn’t take them the easy way.  In fact, as soon as they thought they were out of harm’s way, he actually made them turn around and change course.  Can you imagine the thoughts racing through their minds—the questions, the doubts, the fears encircling their anxious hearts? 

Here they are on their way to the culmination of centuries of dreams, and God says, “Actually, can you please go back.  Trust me, I know what I’m doing, but I want you to head right back to Pharaoh.”

Umm…yeah right!  I don’t know about you, but my response may have sounded something more like, “No way, Mister!” 

Surely God didn’t really know what he was doing, right?  How often do I accuse him of ignorance in my life?  In my anguish I cry out, “If you only knew what was going on…If you could only see what I see…”  Sounds crazy, but it’s what we do.  It’s what the Israelites did.  But can you blame them?  Basically, they found themselves in the worst situation possible.  Rugged mountains blocked their way on either side.  The Red Sea loomed in front while the Egyptians shouted from behind.  No way across, and no way to run back; God had led them straight into a dead end.

Talk about a serious disappointment. 

In my own disappointment, God probed my heart once again with the mystery of this story. I responded with questions. “Why does it have to be about your glory?” “Why can’t you give me something just because I want it?” “Why do you have to lead us to the Red Sea when there is an easier route?”

In the midst of my questions, I found this verse:

Your road led through the sea, your pathway through the mighty waters—a pathway no one knew was there! Psalm 77:19

Does God actually lead us to disappointment? That’s often how I view my life. He leads us to disappointment and then comes through at the last minute to prove once again how faithful He is. But this verse made me see things differently.

God never viewed the Red Sea as a disappointment. It was the people who made it into one. God didn’t make something good happen out of something bad. The Red Sea was something good. While the Israelites saw their dreams dissipate, God saw the path there all along. In God’s eyes, the Red Sea wasn’t an obstacle. It wasn’t a setback. It wasn’t the loss of a dream. IT WAS THE DREAM—A bigger dream than the people could have ever conjured up on their own.

What if I really believed that God wants what’s best for me? What if I really trusted Him enough to stop questioning His goodness? What if I began to view the Red Sea not as a disappointment, but rather as the pathway to a dream bigger than I can see right now?

What disappointments are you facing right now?

What if you believed that maybe, just maybe, there is a pathway only God can see? Can you trust Him enough to praise Him before He parts the water?