The Vally of Vision
LORD, High and Holy, Meek and Lowly,
Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision,
where I live in the depths but see thee in the heights;
hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold thy glory.
Let me learn by paradox
that the way down is the way up,
that to be low is to be high,
that the broken heart is the healed heart,
that the contrite spirit is the victorious soul,
that to have nothing is to possess all,
that to bear the cross is to wear the crown,
that to give is to receive,
that the valley is the place of vision.
LORD, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells,
and the deeper the wells the brighter thy stars shine;
Let me find thy light in my darkness,
thy life in my death,
thy joy in my sorrow,
thy grace in my sin,
thy riches in my poverty
thy glory in my valley.
(this is the title prayer in Valley of Vision, a collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions)
With a mere 50 acres of corn left in the field, the combine harvester blew out it's engine on Monday. This is a catastrophic failure that will cost my FiL a ridiculous amount of money to fix.
In the context of a much larger, not-looking-so-grand-anymore scheme of things, however, it is merely one event among many that is out of our control.
You've probably noticed that there doesn't seem to be much left that is under our control. Truth is, there never has been. It has just become much more obvious lately. Everywhere you look there is pain and disease and broken relationships. No one seems immune.
In an ever increasing way I am becoming more aware of my own emptiness. I am powerless to alleviate the pain of others in spite of how deeply I care for them. I can't fix machinery that is beyond repair no matter how desperately it is needed. I cannot heal hearts and souls regardless of how much I long to do so.
There is nothing left to do but give up.
Not quit. Give up.
Give up trying to be the hero when that was never what God intended for me in the first place. Give up striving and straining and stretching and reaching.
Give up thinking that I have something to offer in and of myself.
I need to just put it all down and come to my Savior with my empty hands extended and ask him to fill me.
Fill me with forgiveness for denying the grace that was always mine if I would just admit I needed it.
Fill me with trust that His plan is perfect even if I can't imagine how it will all work out in the end.
Fill me with a rest that is not dependent on sleep. A rest that can look past the howling winter wind and feel the warmth of the sun. A rest that can take a nap in a storm tossed boat.
A rest that believes Romans chapter 8.
Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision,
where I live in the depths but see thee in the heights;
hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold thy glory.
Let me learn by paradox
that the way down is the way up,
that to be low is to be high,
that the broken heart is the healed heart,
that the contrite spirit is the victorious soul,
that to have nothing is to possess all,
that to bear the cross is to wear the crown,
that to give is to receive,
that the valley is the place of vision.
LORD, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells,
and the deeper the wells the brighter thy stars shine;
Let me find thy light in my darkness,
thy life in my death,
thy joy in my sorrow,
thy grace in my sin,
thy riches in my poverty
thy glory in my valley.
(this is the title prayer in Valley of Vision, a collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions)
With a mere 50 acres of corn left in the field, the combine harvester blew out it's engine on Monday. This is a catastrophic failure that will cost my FiL a ridiculous amount of money to fix.
In the context of a much larger, not-looking-so-grand-anymore scheme of things, however, it is merely one event among many that is out of our control.
You've probably noticed that there doesn't seem to be much left that is under our control. Truth is, there never has been. It has just become much more obvious lately. Everywhere you look there is pain and disease and broken relationships. No one seems immune.
In an ever increasing way I am becoming more aware of my own emptiness. I am powerless to alleviate the pain of others in spite of how deeply I care for them. I can't fix machinery that is beyond repair no matter how desperately it is needed. I cannot heal hearts and souls regardless of how much I long to do so.
There is nothing left to do but give up.
Not quit. Give up.
Give up trying to be the hero when that was never what God intended for me in the first place. Give up striving and straining and stretching and reaching.
Give up thinking that I have something to offer in and of myself.
I need to just put it all down and come to my Savior with my empty hands extended and ask him to fill me.
Fill me with forgiveness for denying the grace that was always mine if I would just admit I needed it.
Fill me with trust that His plan is perfect even if I can't imagine how it will all work out in the end.
Fill me with a rest that is not dependent on sleep. A rest that can look past the howling winter wind and feel the warmth of the sun. A rest that can take a nap in a storm tossed boat.
A rest that believes Romans chapter 8.
2 comments:
I love Valley of Vision. I'm thinking I might just print out your thoughts and slip them right between the leaves of my copy. ;-)
You are so right, Stacy. So little is really up to us - He is sovereign over all things, people, and circumstances.
Thanks! :o)
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