Dare to Reach Up

He beckons me. He calls for me. He wants me.

Even when I’ve been less than desirable. Even when I’ve stiff armed. Even when I’ve said No, I can do this myself. Even when I’ve said I don’t want to do it your way.

He waits patiently for my return.

There have been many seasons of silence in my walk with Christ. All of them can be attributed back to the fact that I am a selfish human. I get annoyed at my circumstances and instead of turning to the one that can change my attitude around, I turn inward to myself and try fix the problem. My solutions are never ample, and the hole I sit in gets deeper and deeper until I am actually not able to throw dirt out any more and I am just heaping the stones and gravel upon myself.

And then eventually, with the nudge of brothers and sisters in Christ, I look up. And I see Him…smiling, and reaching out a strong hand. Bending down to pick me up. In his beautiful spotless white linen. The dirt doesn’t even stick to it. My filth can’t touch him. It just falls right off, and as I reach toward him and see how filthy my mud covered hands are from trying so hard to do it all – I question if I can truly be clean from this. This need for self doing. This need to fix my own problems because I want them fixed right now. Because waiting is too hard. Because His way hurts sometimes. Because I’m not sure that I can trust Him today, with this.

Does He want this dirty hand?

And he keeps reaching. Bent low from his throne room. He heard my cries for help. He heard my whimpers in the night. And in my distress he came. And I finally  reach back because there is nothing else I can do. I cannot save myself. I without a doubt  need someone. Someone way bigger than me. And as his hand grasps big and his fingers engulf as they wrap, the mud begins to fall off of mine. And as I am pulled out of the dark pit and back into the light, the dirt continues to fall off until even the tips of my toes and soles of my feet are now standing spotless on solid ground. And I am standing so undeservingly next to him in the same white linen with his arm around me covering me.

And I look at that pit, and become filled with gratitude to the one who pulled me out. And I’ll swear that I’ll never go there again. Because that place was lonely, oh it was so lonely. And it was so dark. And it was so clearly not where I belonged.

And I can’t even fathom how the God of the Universe. Creator, Holy God even cares about me. Selfish me. But then I remember He is Abba. He is Daddy. He is love. And that it’s not being in the hole that’s sinful; it’s being without him that is. It’s heaping the work upon myself that separates me more from HIm.

So Sister, if you are out there in your own hole, with your own shovel, heaping the dirt back on yourself. Getting farther and farther from the light because you keep digging a bigger hole. Maybe you’ve gone so far as to get tunnels going because you just can’t see how going up is going to make it better. STOP digging. Stop clawing. Be still and look up and wait. Cry out to Him as loudly as you can. Because even if nothing more than a faint whisper leaves your lips, it will reach Him. And then you wait.  You wait expectantly on the Lord your God, Abba, Daddy. And you listen. And you will hear his voice. And you will see his light. And you will see his hand reaching down, down, down to come and rescue you. All you need to do now is reach up.