It's amazing how time flies when you're having fun...and the blog somehow gets neglected for two weeks! Yikes!
We've been busy working and gearing up for Charis' first birthday (in three days!) and the arrival of Zach's family (his dad gets here in three days, too.) We're so excited to have them here for a while and then look forward to Mom Tunney coming shortly afterward!
On a different note, the Lord has really been teaching me about remembering lately and has so convicted me on how quickly I forget His goodness. I was reading the story of Elijah in 1 Kings this week, and if you remember there are three pretty significant stories right there in a row: Elijah completely humiliating the prophets of Baal through an amazing display of God's power; Elijah running down Mount Carmel ahead of Ahab's chariot to Jezreel; and Elijah fleeing from Jezebel in the desert (and then the Lord appearing to him in a gentle whisper).
The first two stories clearly display the Lord's presence in powerful, supernatural ways. He sends fire down in a pretty glorious display of might with the prophets of Baal, and then He supernaturally empowers Elijah to run ahead of a chariot (think galloping horses) for a substantial distance. He is the miracle-working, power-wielding, awe-inspiring Yahweh.
But then there is a pretty dramatic shift. Having been threatened by Jezebel, Elijah flees into the desert and basically says, "I am no better than my ancestors. Just let me die here in the desert." He's depressed, moping, fearful, and has no hope. On some level I've always questioned this seemingly dramatic shift since just days earlier he was watching the Lord completely obliterate the prophets of Baal and was infused with a heavenly strength that obviously came from God Himself. How can his attitude change so quickly? How can he now doubt the God who so gloriously revealed Himself only a few days before? How can he not remember?
Even as those questions were rolling around in my own head, I realized that I often live the exact same way. God will provide in miraculous ways or will reveal Himself clearly, and moments later I am back to worrying, stressing, fearing, or doubting. I give up hope. I start moping. I stop trusting that the Lord can and will deliver me over and over again.
If you remember the story, the Lord tells Elijah to go stand at the mouth of a cave and tells him that His presence is about to pass by. A strong wind, an earthquake, and a fire all come, but the Lord says He is not in any of them. Finally, Elijah hears a gentle whisper -- the voice of the Lord. What's interesting to note is that a chapter earlier when God defeated the prophets of Baal, He was in the fire, yet now He's but a gentle whisper. In a sense, the King of Glory has become the Prince of Peace (Rich Mullins' song anyone?).
I believe there are seasons and times of life where God speaks in different ways. At times we hear Him almost audibly and see Him almost visibly because His work is so clear and His ways so obvious. But then there are those moments like this one where we are just called to be still, quiet. We must listen. We must strain our ears to hear and our eyes to see the ways in which He's working.
In many ways, that's where I find myself now -- in the season of God's gentle whisper. He is working and speaking, but I am finding that I am really having to listen harder these days. I pray that He gives me ears to hear all He is saying to me and that He allows me to remember His goodness to me in the past. And though He reveals Himself in different ways, I am thankful that He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.
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Finally, on a completely different note, we plan to send out a big email update on Charis' birthday this week that goes into a bit more detail about everything going on in our lives right now. If you want to receive it, send me your email address and I'll be happy to put you on the mailing list.
