Cleansing 10 Lepers; Healing One Soul

I was reading this morning in Luke 17: 11-19 about Jesus healing 10 lepers (read the whole story here), and a few things stood out to me:

1) All 10 lepers cry out to Jesus to be healed. We have to ask, to make our request. I saw a tweet today that said God will not answer 100% of the prayers you don't pray.

2) Jesus gives them a command: to go and show themselves to the priest. At this point, they are still lepers. Can you imagine walking away from Jesus, thinking, But I'm still a leper? How can I present myself to the priest? But the Word says "As they went, they were cleansed." They had to go first in obedience. Then they were healed.

The Greek word for cleansed here (v. 14) literally means 'to cleanse from filth, to make clean from leprosy." The other word used here for healed (v. 15) means 'to heal, cure, restore to bodily health." On both accounts, we're talking about a physical healing.

3) Of the 10, only one returns to Jesus to give thanks.

4) To the one who offers thanks, to the one who is grateful, Jesus declares him well. Other translations include "whole." The Greek word here is sozo. A beautiful word that means "to save" in other places of scripture, in other places where we link saving to salvation. However, this word also means "heal, preserve, be (make) whole."

This is the same word used in Romans 10:9 that if we confess with our mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in our heart that God raised Him from the dead, we will be saved [sozo]. and in Romans 10:13: "For everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved [sozo]."

There are three words in this passage that can all be translated in other places of scripture as 'healed.' But only one man received sozo healing.

What does "Not my will, but Yours" look like?

Every morning for a week. Seven days. The words replay in my head over and over and over again. His prayer in the garden: “not my will, but yours.”

But how? How does He get there? What does that even mean? Not my will, but yours? What does that look like? For me. For Laura. Today. September 15, 2013.

I can't find where I first journaled about these words, where the revelation hit me square in the face. His words--He, too, begged:

"O, Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will" (Matthew 26:39).

I read it again in Mark and in Luke: 

“Abba Father, all things are possible for You. Take this cup away from Me; nevertheless, not what I will but what You will” (Mark 14:36).

“Father, if it is Your will, take this cup away from Me; nevertheless not My will but Yours be done” (Luke 22:42).

But the cup could not pass; there was no other way for salvation. He had to endure the cross.  This was the plan for redemption—that He who knew no sin would become sin, on our behalf, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him (2 Cor 5:21). 

And so, it says, He prayed again—a second time: "O My Father, if this cup cannot pass away from Me unless I drink it, Your will be done." (Matthew 26:42). And in John, we see total acceptance: to Peter, He says, "Put your sword into the sheath. Shall I not drink the cup which My Father has given Me?" (John 18:11).

And there, in His words, I'm encouraged: He, fully human, God's only son, asked for a different plan. And, He, too, received a "No."  

But what does He do? Does he throw a fit? Does he become offended?  Of course not. He—fully human, fully perfect—sets the example: "Not my will, but yours." 

And so, for seven days, I've been thinking about that. What does that mean? What does “not my will, but yours” look like lived out? 

Just this week, I’ve had several women tell me they’re encouraged to read my blog. My first thought, I’ll admit, is something along the lines of What? People actually read this? But my second thought—the one that captivates me most—is pure fear: What if blogger Laura looks fantastic, but real Laura…not so much?

And here’s the truth God showed me: What people read and relate to is your vulnerability. When you’re willing to be vulnerable, you open a door to others that says it’s okay to be vulnerable. And when we’re vulnerable, we’re honest. With ourselves and with others.

Because here’s the other truth: Blogger Laura and Real-Life Laura do not have it all together.

And you know what?  That’s okay.

My vulnerability for today:  It's hard for me to admit that because, if I’m honest, I’d really rather have it all together. I’d rather be that woman of faith—already. Arrived. Complete. I see her in others—but it’s hard to see her in me.

The last seven days have been hard, but when I surrender, when I talk to the Lord about my heart—where I really am, I find that I’m right where He wants me to be. From the beginning of this journey, I told the Lord: I want to be real as I walk through this. Often we give our testimony after the fact. But I didn’t want that. I wanted to give my testimony during the journey.

And I’ve learned two incredible truths so far: 

1. The greater the hope, the greater the risk of disappointment. (And related: the greater the wait, the longer the delay—the sweeter the reward.)
2.  If my circumstances do not change, God is no less good and no less faithful.

 But I’ve learned some other things, too—that it’s okay to be offended with the Lord. He can take it. It’s not okay to stay there. But it’s okay to be there. For a time. 

It’s also okay to play the “What if” game. What if this doesn’t work? What if this—this thing I want—isn’t supposed to happen? What if ______ (Fill in the blank: worst case scenario)? But it’s not okay to stay there. It’s not okay to live there.

And above all: it’s okay to not be okay. Jesus was not okay in the garden as He prayed, as He begged: isn’t there another way? can there be a different plan?

This week, I’ve not been okay. I've been thinking all along if I just pray enough and beg enough and DO enough and have enough faith, I can somehow change God's will. I can make it like mine. But that's just not true--and I don't think that's what He desires of me. 

He desires a heart that says—that really says—not my will, but yours.

So what does that look like? Maybe it’s the choice to choose Him, to choose that He is sufficient for me. He is enough. He is Abba.

Maybe it means I change the way I pray—change what I demand. I’ve begged for my way, and now it’s time to stop; it’s time for my heart to align with whatever He wants, with whatever He wills.

I want to learn what He desires of me, and I only want to desire what He desires. I want to learn to really hide my heart in Him, to hide my expectations in Him, to be content that He is sufficient.

Not my will, but yours.

The certainty and security of what we know and don't know

In 2002, Donald Rumsfield made a controversial comment about what we know: "There are known knowns; there are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns; that is to say, there are things that we now know we don't know. But there are also unknown unkonwns--there are things we do not know we don't know."

Among other things, Rumsfield was criticized for his convoluted use of language--and this post has nothing to do with the politics of his statement. But I think he raises a good point in terms of what we know about what we know or don't know. And I wonder if the categories of knowledge may look more like this:

1. We know that we know.
2. We know, but we don't know that we know.
3. We don't know, but we know that we don't know.
4. We don't know, but we don't know that we don't know. 

Or, maybe there's only three categories that matter:

1. What we know for certain
2. What we think we know (but may or may not actually know)
3. What we don't know (whether we know or don't know that we don't know it)

Before I lose all my readers, I promise I'm making a connection soon... :) Some of you know, we have been on a "house journey" for about 6 - 8 months. We feel God is calling us to live in Plainview, and we've been trying to sell our house since October. In this process, God has taught us so much about trusting and walking in faith. And I was thinking this weekend about these levels of knowledge, and I was thinking that what I know for certain, and what I think I know, and what I don't know have all been so tested in this season to the point that some days, all I can do is declare: 

"Lord, I don't know what you're doing in all this. I don't know what your plan is, but here's what I do know..." 

In this journey, I've learned so much about the false security of the immediate--what we think we know and can take control of, which can, in fact, be easily changed. Our circumstances change, both good and bad, but His character, His attributes--these are things we get to know that we know for certain. 

Here is what I know: He is good and faithful. He is for me and with me. He will not fail me; He will not forsake me. He never changes. He is my rock, my refuge, my safe place. He is sufficient. He is my hope, my security--I have all I need in Him. And He is Daddy; He will provide for all our needs. 

When all that's in front of me is doubt and confusion, I just have to go to what I know. If I focus on what I think I know, I am fooled, and if I focus on what I don't know, I am frustrated. But if I focus on Him, I am fulfilled. 

After a long journey (I'll spare you the full story, but the climax includes re-plumbing our entire house), we have a contract on our house, we have survived the option period, and, Lord willing, we will sell our house on May 29. But there's a reason James writes, 

"Come now, you who say 'Today or tomorrow, we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit'; whereas, you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time, and then vanishes away. Instead, you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we shall live or do this or that'" (James 4:13-15). 

And because of that--because the certainty of our move is really only in "Lord willing," the Lord even still reminds me to hide my heart in Him, to put my plans and the "what we think we know" in the sovereignty of His hands. 

And so I do, but still I am left with other "unknowns," chief of which is where we will live in Plainview. And I don't know whether the answer to this question lies in knowledge 2 or knowledge 3:

• Do we know the house God has for us in Plainview, but we don't know that we know?
• Or do we not know, and so we just know that we don't know?

I'm not sure. Our "house in Plainview" story is about as long as our "Selling our house in Lubbock" story, but here's the short version: Back in October, we found a house we loved; then we had to re-plumb our house in Lubbock, which knocked that house out of the realm of possibility  Then we found another house we liked, but the inspection report blew that one quickly out of the realm of possibility -and at about the same time, the price on house number one was reduced, putting it back in the realm of possibility. 

So now we ask: Was the first one removed because it wasn't what God wants? Was the second one removed because the first is actually what God wants? Or were both removed because neither are what God wants? 

All along God has told me that He will open the doors so clearly and fully. And He has also told me not to plan--not to think I know, not to try to figure it out. And as hard as it's been, I feel like He wants to keep me in two places of knowledge: 

• What I know I know for certain: His character and attributes
• What I don't know, but don't know I don't know: which keeps me trusting in Him

When we got the second contract on our house in Lubbock, we laughed; we were in complete shock. I told the Lord, it would be like you to surprise us and also to orchestrate it at a time when we have no plan for a house in Plainview. 

So, even today--approximately one month from our closing date--I just declare that I still don't have it figured out. I don't know, and I don't presume to know what God is doing or how He will work it all out. But what I do know, I get to know for certain: I am His and He is sufficient for me. 

Ephesians 1 & 2 --Part 2

To read Part 1, go here.

To clarify, some Christians have taken the view that God's story is somehow their story and that the cross is all about them, and for them. Let us be certain that we are mere participants in God's story. Some might say God needed a relationship with us; others on a different extreme have twisted God's love as the motivation to be about them somehow...

So let's be clear: the cross and the mystery of his will were "to the praise of his glory" (Eph 1:11). Or to be even more exact, scripture says, "But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ--by grace you have been saved--and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, SO THAT in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus" (Eph 2:4-7).

Everything about the cross and God's story should point to his grace and love and glory. If it was "for us," it was only in the most undeserved way, as we were dead in sin and he made us alive! We've all read "by grace...through faith." But let's not forget the part that reads "and this is not your own doing; it's the gift of God...so that no one may boast" (Eph 2:8-9).

With the right perspective of God's story, we can begin to do that which he desires, that which he has given us the authority to do: "For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus, for good works, which he prepared beforehand that we should walk in them" (Eph 2:10). Post-salvation is not about waiting til we reach our mansion in the sky. It's about letting Jesus sanctify his bride--doing everything he can to conform us to his image is his desire. So when it says we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus, it's talking about our re-birth--our new man, brought to maturity through sanctification and the washing of the word. That new man is now ready to do God's work, his will, on earth.

The bride of Christ is sleeping and unprepared. We've not let our bridegroom sanctify us, and we're not doing the works that he asked. In fact, we hardly look like Jesus at all. We think "it's too hard; I'm too sinful," and in our laziness, we fail to bring the kingdom on earth. We fail to do what we've been given authority to do. We fail to walk in the plans that have already been laid out for us.

Do we not believe in the power of Jesus? Do we not believe that we've been given the same power? (Eph 1:19-23) Do we not understand our inheritance? The seal of the Holy Spirit? (Eph 1:13-19) Or do we not grasp the riches of grace lavished upon us, undeservedly? The great love that points to the glory of God in his redeeming will....

We must let our bridegroom renew our minds from what we know. We need to be washed with his word. Oh that he would begin to sanctify his bride... Oh that she would let him... and that we would begin to walk in his purpose for us here.