Before Mike died, we had started reading My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers together, every night. It's a daily devotional book that we would take turns each night reading out loud. It held us accountable to ensure we had quiet time together every night. It was really, really, really good for our marriage. And I don't know about him, but I enjoyed that time where it was just me, Mike, and Jesus, every.single.night.
Since Mike died I've not kept up with the daily devotionals. If I'm being completely real, my relationship with Jesus has struggled. Badly. It has been hard for me to trust in someone when I don't understand the reasoning and when I feel betrayed. But I digress. I've been trying to be more accountable. And a couple of days ago I picked up the book again to read. For the first time since Mike died. I didn't get a chance to read yesterdays so I read it today also. And for some reason, I felt the need to turn to September 30th.
The night prior to September 30th, I snuggled up next to Mike and laid on his chest. We read the September 29th daily devotional. We talked. We prayed together for our family, our children, our marriage. And I fell asleep. On his chest. And then my life changed forever.
So today, I turned to September 30th. And this is what it says:
"I
now rejoice in my sufferings for you, and fill up in my flesh what is
lacking in the afflictions of Christ, for the sake of His body, which is
the church . . . —Colossians 1:24
We take our own spiritual consecration and try to make it into a
call of God, but when we get right with Him He brushes all this aside.
Then He gives us a tremendous, riveting pain to fasten our attention on
something that we never even dreamed could be His call for us. And for
one radiant, flashing moment we see His purpose, and we say, “Here am I!
Send me” (Isaiah 6:8).
This call has nothing to do with personal sanctification, but with being made broken bread and poured-out wine. Yet God can never make us into wine if we object to the fingers He chooses to use to crush us. We say, “If God would only use His own fingers, and make me broken bread and poured-out wine in a special way, then I wouldn’t object!” But when He uses someone we dislike, or some set of circumstances to which we said we would never submit, to crush us, then we object. Yet we must never try to choose the place of our own martyrdom. If we are ever going to be made into wine, we will have to be crushed—you cannot drink grapes. Grapes become wine only when they have been squeezed.
I wonder what finger and thumb God has been using to squeeze you? Have you been as hard as a marble and escaped? If you are not ripe yet, and if God had squeezed you anyway, the wine produced would have been remarkably bitter. To be a holy person means that the elements of our natural life experience the very presence of God as they are providentially broken in His service. We have to be placed into God and brought into agreement with Him before we can be broken bread in His hands. Stay right with God and let Him do as He likes, and you will find that He is producing the kind of bread and wine that will benefit His other children."
"Then He gives us a tremendous, riveting pain to fasten our attention on something that we never even dreamed could be His call for us." Yep. That happened. Riveting is a good word to describe the breathtaking (and not in a good way) experience of losing my spouse. I was shook to the core. And never, ever, ever in a million years could I EVER have imagined that God would have allowed this to be in my plan for my life. Never. But... "Grapes become wine only when they have been squeezed." Whoa. Good Point. "If we are ever going to be made into wine, we will have to be crushed-- you cannot drink grapes". Another good point. Never looked at it from that perspective.
I'm going to become wine y'all. I've been crushed. That means the wine is to come.
This call has nothing to do with personal sanctification, but with being made broken bread and poured-out wine. Yet God can never make us into wine if we object to the fingers He chooses to use to crush us. We say, “If God would only use His own fingers, and make me broken bread and poured-out wine in a special way, then I wouldn’t object!” But when He uses someone we dislike, or some set of circumstances to which we said we would never submit, to crush us, then we object. Yet we must never try to choose the place of our own martyrdom. If we are ever going to be made into wine, we will have to be crushed—you cannot drink grapes. Grapes become wine only when they have been squeezed.
I wonder what finger and thumb God has been using to squeeze you? Have you been as hard as a marble and escaped? If you are not ripe yet, and if God had squeezed you anyway, the wine produced would have been remarkably bitter. To be a holy person means that the elements of our natural life experience the very presence of God as they are providentially broken in His service. We have to be placed into God and brought into agreement with Him before we can be broken bread in His hands. Stay right with God and let Him do as He likes, and you will find that He is producing the kind of bread and wine that will benefit His other children."
"Then He gives us a tremendous, riveting pain to fasten our attention on something that we never even dreamed could be His call for us." Yep. That happened. Riveting is a good word to describe the breathtaking (and not in a good way) experience of losing my spouse. I was shook to the core. And never, ever, ever in a million years could I EVER have imagined that God would have allowed this to be in my plan for my life. Never. But... "Grapes become wine only when they have been squeezed." Whoa. Good Point. "If we are ever going to be made into wine, we will have to be crushed-- you cannot drink grapes". Another good point. Never looked at it from that perspective.
I'm going to become wine y'all. I've been crushed. That means the wine is to come.
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