God with Us

God with Us

“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel (which means, God with us).” Matthew 1:23

Emmanuel, God with us....Over and over the last couple of days these are the words that come to my heart. Once again today it is the theme of the day.

Until this morning I did not know what to call this last season of my life. For two years I had lived in a perpetual state of grief. Not just a low point, not just a state of feeling down and out, but one of ultimate despair. Maybe you understand despair, perhaps you don't.  Despair is that season where it seems that all hope is lost. When it is just too difficult to put one foot in front of the  other and it requires effort to even get out of bed in the morning. That season I will forever call my Ichabod season.

 Ichabod was the name given to Eli's grandson. After the Ark of the Covenant was captured, Eli fell from a chair, breaking his neck,  killing him. His sons both killed in battle, and Phineas' wife left alone to give birth, names the son Ichabod, "inglorious" or "the glory has departed"

Jentezen Franklin spoke on this very subject this morning. Oh, what a blessing that message was. If you have an opportunity check it out.   .Immanuel is Mightier than Ichobad

"The Glory has departed" that is how it felt for so long, though really not true. It is difficult in these seasons to see God's hand in all that is going on around us. This thing that brought the despair is so at the fore front of our minds we see nothing else. For me, it was clinging to the hope in cruel situations that I could not control. It was placing my hope in man to be disappointed over and over again. It was fighting against the free will placed in each human soul and not being able to right the wrongs of the consequences of the actions of myself and others. It was feeling that because of someone else's disobedience to God, I was somehow unloveable.  Every prayer seemingly unanswered causes the despair to multiply around us. Despair, like darkness, deepens as the night goes on.

There is a phenomena, discovered in the 1973, after a 6 day bank heist in Stockholm, Germany. Coined "Stockholm Syndrome", the hostages formed and emotional bond with their captor, even to the point of offering themselves as a shield for his safety, once leaving the makeshift garrison.

To some of us, our relationship with despair becomes something akin to Stockholm Syndrome. It is all too familiar, and if we stay there too long it become our companion. We nurture it and it fully envelopes us. At some point we either make a conscience decision to disrobe ourselves of despair or we make an unconsciousness decision to remain in the painful, yet familiar pit.

For me, the time in the pit was far too long. The despair too comfortable. Though the enemy would have had me, the Almighty was merciful. When the enemy would scream my insecurities day and night, the Holy Spirit was faithful. Scriptures, words of knowledge, phone calls, text messages, the only explanation...God.

I would have perished if I had not known I would see the goodness of the lord in the land of the living.

Fear Not...

 Jesus' very birth announcement began with these words.   When the angels appeared to the lowliest of humankind to announce the birth of the King of kings;  the very first words were "fear not".

When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, In God I trust; I will not be afraid.

What can mortal man do to me? (Psalm 56:3-4

These are the words spoken to me over the last couple of years. Fear not, do not be afraid, be strong and courageous, be of good courage... promises and commandments from the Father. Promises that He will never leave me or forsake me. He is with me. God is with me...

I sit here in the wee morning hours, the only light comes from the Christmas tree and the fireplace. The rest of the house is dark, and quiet. Solitude is the word that comes to mind. For those of you that know me well, you know that solitude is both my friend and my enemy. It is during these times that I can delve into the deepest recesses of my mind and the fear takes hold of me out of no where like a cold, icy grip on the back of your neck when you least expect it, and yet it does not startle me. I can settle into its arms as comfortably as a cradled babe. It is in moments like this that I have learned that I must make a conscious effort to cast down these fears, to speak to the voice that says all hope is lost and remind the demons that my God is with me.  MY God...is with ME. 

My God chose to make himself a little lower than the angels, to come to the earth He created, as the most helpless of creatures... a newborn baby. Creator and son in one small, flesh covered gift of perfect sacrifice. The sacrifice was made even before the cross.  Do we ever stop to wonder, the glory that He left, to come and dwell among us? 

There are two kinds of tears that I shed these days. Those for deep regrets and days gone by and those that come when I am overwhelmed by the love of my Savior. Both can come without warning and both flow freely from the purest portion of my heart and soul. In this moment, it is the latter that stream freely down my cheeks. In these quiet moments, Holy Spirit has set himself down with me, taking my hands in his and softly reminding me in quiet whispers of the good. Small glimpses of hope, provisions and promises, just enough Grace for the moment. 

We "church folk" sure can miss it sometimes. We speak our "Christianese", "grace for the moment", "mercies new every morning", "God with us". It is so easy for those of us who have been in church for any length of time to spout off our cliches to others in cute little quip answers, but do we ever get real and examine what these cliches mean to us. No, really! 

If I have learned anything that I can offer to you over the last few years, it is this. Get real, it is personal. "Grace for the moment" oh how I wish I could adequately pen into words what this now means for me. How at the very moments that I had no hope, Grace found its way through the darkness to rescue me in that very instant while teetering over the abyss of despair. If I could give you each a gift this Christmas it would be to linger. To stop, abruptly in the middle of the madness, the hustle and bustle, the chaos we have created in the name of celebrating the Christ Child. I would give you the gift of being overwhelmed, by the baby, by the Father, by the Savior, the Holy Spirit, by what it all truly means. I would give you the gift of my tears, tears that for the very first time in my small, fragile existence, understand the True meaning of Christmas.

I am reminded tonight of Christ's words to his disciples, "I'm sending what my Father has promised, wait here (in the city), until you are filled with power from on high". He is still here with us. It is not just a fairy tale in a Holy Book. It is redemption wrapped in scraps of cloth. It is hope and joy in fleshly form laid in straw. It is a cruel crucifixion for the sins of the world. It is an empty tomb and a risen Savior. It is a fresh wind in an upper room. It is the hands and feet, given that we might share His love to the masses.  It is a precious promise and a provision from a father who loved us so much he would not leave us alone.. He searched for us, He found us, He calls us from the deep, He  lingers with us, He holds us, He comforts us. Hallelujah, we have been found! He is with us!  Immanuel!

Merry Christmas, 

Shannon