Believing is Seeing.

"Faith is to believe what we do not see, and the 

reward of this faith is to see what we believe."

 (Saint Augustine)

Waiting for answers.  Waiting for hope.  Waiting for peace.  

It's exhausting, isn't it?

It is in our flesh-wiring to default to "I’ll believe it when I see it.”  But how do I reconcile that with my faith?  Because if I believe what I say I believe, then my faith isn’t dependent on my sight. 

When I am preoccupied and focused on the circumstances in my life  instead of centering on the constancy of God and in Who God is, my faith-life becomes intermittent, at best.   

Stop…Go…Stop….Go. 

We can learn a lot from the Words that cut through the darkness.  In contrast to Moses, who "endured, as seeing Him who is unseen", the children of Israel did not believe until after they saw the evidence.  They still doubted God when they came to the Red Sea, but only when they saw God open the way, lead them across and drown Pharaoh did they believe. 

Then they believed his promises and sang His praise... (Psalm 106:12)

They led an up and down life because of this kind of faith, and we do the same thing sometimes, don’t we?   

The world says "seeing is believing," but the sight-gift that He offers us is SO much better.  He wants us to believe in order to see.  That is the reward of our faith.

So what about my seasonal blindness in my faith journey? Because let’s just be honest here…there are times when all I can see is the darkness. Sometimes, my cup doesn’t runneth over…sometimes, it’s just empty. How do I wait for hope?

How do I wait for hope when not even a glimmer of it shines, yet still refuse to grow weary and refuse to doubt God’s unyielding faithfulness to me?

How do I experience the pain of a gaping, vacant hole in my heart, yet still resolve not to allow any presence inferior to God to occupy it?

How did Job do it? How did Abraham do it on the road to Moriah? How did Moses do it in the desert? How did Jesus do it in the Garden?

When waiting for hope amid darkness, how do we "endure, as seeing Him who is unseen?” 

There really is only one way. 

To refuse to let go of our empty cup and remain convinced that God’s eyes see eternally further than our own. 

To remain steadfast in our belief that in His perfect timing and in the completeness of His love for us, He will unhide that which is hidden to our eyes. 

To wait with confidence to see what we believe. 

Speaking in Pencil.

She called me today, heartbroken.  Words had been spoken – cruel ones. The kind that leave a wound, then a bruise, and then a scar that remains to maliciously remind. These words had wounded a loved one, and I was overcome with conviction and repentance when she shared her deepest ache through sobs of pain at the effect of the soul-crushing comments.  

You might be thinking that she is the grieving recipient.  She isn’t.  She is the grieving deliverer.  Her cries were so gut-deep that I could barely understand her.                                                             

“Oh Melissa, I hurt the one I love so badly.  How do I fix this?” 

My heart aches for her.  And for the one she loves.  And for me.  Because I have been that person.  I am that person.  While there is a population out there that would boldly proclaim that I have spoken encouraging words over them, there is yet another population (hopefully much smaller) that can describe the painful marks left on their hearts by my ruthless words.  And usually to the ones I love the most.  I don’t even like to think about it. 

Even with the most sincere of apologies offered, and even with the truest of repentant hearts, the memory lingers in the heart of the wounded.  The scar is left to remind, and from that point forward it becomes a battle within that the wounded must fight when someone or something unknowingly opens that scar.   

We write on the slate of one another.  We can trample a heart with 

One.

Single.

Word.

He entrusts us with words.  His words.  Words to edify, exhort, and encourage one another.  Words to build up, inspire, and to humbly lead.  Words to offer hope, comfort, and words to heal.  Words to proclaim the Truth of His love, mercy, and grace.  Yet with the same mouth that we share His words, we shoot sharp darts that can brutally pierce the heart of another.

Sometimes Too many times, I wish I could speak in pencil.  That eraser would be so handy.  As the magical word-remover leaves its evidence of black flecks where punishing words once were, we could point to the dust and show the unlucky recipient the proof that the word was no longer there.  

"See, look, I didn’t mean it.  It’s gone!  We can just forget this ever happened..." 

If only.  Unfortunately, indelible ink doesn’t have a handy little eraser.

I have some good news, though.  

As powerful as our words may be, they are powerless in the presence of the God of the Redeemed...the God of healing and restoration.   No wound is too deep for Him to touch. 
 
For our harsh words, there is grace and forgiveness to cover our sins.  Period.  Done.   

And for the wounded -- with faith, prayer, time, and forgiveness, God can heal a wounded heart.  He has healed mine, and He has healed the hearts of those whom I have wounded with my words.  

May we be reminded today, to pray His words:

May the words of my mouth and this meditation 

of my heart be pleasing in your sight, Lord, 

my Rock and my Redeemer.

(Psalm 19:14)

Would you join me in taking some time to listen to this song as you pray and dedicate your words to  Him today?

(Shane & Shane, "May The Words of My Mouth")