“Everyone who comes to me and hears my words and does them, I will show you what he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock. And when a flood arose, the stream broke against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built. But the one who hears and does not do them is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. When the stream broke against it, immediately it fell, and the ruin of that house was great.” – Luke 6:47-49
In this world we have tribulations, everybody has them. The righteous ones, the lawless ones, the holy ones just like the ungodly ones. Storms happen. We all build the best shelter we can wherever we think it best. But He came to make room for myself in Him, with Him as my foundation, walls and shield. That doesn’t mean the storms avoid me, storms come just as vicious on the house built on the rock as on the one built on the sand. I’ve built something that will stand. I might need heavy repairs after every storm, but by His grace, I stand.
Maker of my dreams and frame, King of everything there is and will be, here I am. I feel like one of your disciples following You towards Jerusalem dismayed and scared (Mark 10:32). I Want You to speak to me of Your plans for victory, about ruling, about plans to prosper, about blessings and joy… Hearing You talk of suffering terrifies me. An outcome where I hurt shakes my soul within me, but Lord, my Lord, I follow. Even as I don’t understand half the things You say or do, I follow. Even as I pray ‘please don’t let me be the one that betrays You!’, I follow. And I know just Whom it is I follow: The One who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross and despised shame (Heb 12:2) In order to have me You had to endure the cross, so I won’t think the trials I have are even worth mentioning for the joy of having You.
You thought it was all worth it, all the beatings, humiliation, unbelief, everything. You’re worth a tear or two, a denied hope or two, a frustrated plan or two, You’re worth all my small pains. Forgive Your daughter for dragging her feet in hopes of prolonging the inevitable. Forgive me for actually being tempted to command these stones to turn to bread, forgive me for considering jumping off the high top just to see You run to catch me, forgive me for almost considering kneeling (Matthew 4:3-11). I don’t take this hope for granted, Lord, nor do I imagine I have attained the goal yet, but I leave everything and follow after You. Don’t let me stumble, Maker of my feet. Command me to come to You, and I know that after I’ll finish debating the sanity of it in my mind, I’ll come to You even if You so happen to walk on waters. Just never stop calling me Lord and always give me voice to answer like Luther did, “Here I stand. I cannot do otherwise. God help me. Amen.”
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