Friday, November 18, 2011

When I think "This is More Than I Can Handle"

Everyone has heard the popular saying, "God will never give you more than you can handle." Comforting, right? I had a rough day yesterday. I was to the point where I didn't know how much more I could take. I prayed, "God I know you won't give me more than I can handle...I really think my breaking point is coming soon." I was hurt to say the least.

Later, I opened up the blogs I keep up with and was scanning the most recent ones. I came across one called, "God Will Not Give You More Than You Can Handle." DING! I was pumped- this was going to be the little spiritual boost I needed. I opened it up and started reading. Then.....I realized the entire post was contradicting the saying. Oh joy. Just what I wanted to read.

However, the words brought me more hope and peace than any "feel good" message could have. As nice as this saying sounds, it isn't biblical in the least. Paul did have more than he could handle. The thorn in his flesh consumed him and he begged God to take it away because of his agony. After reading the entire post, I started thinking of things that I can "handle."

I can handle brushing my teeth. I can handle driving my car. I can handle working out. I can handle doing laundry. I can handle studying for a test. I can handle paying taxes.
Then I thought of some things that I need to survive. I need my sinoatrial node to tell my heart to beat. I need the earth to spin on it's axis. I need the atmosphere to protect me from the sun. I need North Korea not to bomb us. I need photosynthesis to happen. I need the huge trees in my yard not to fall on my house.

Isn't it interesting how the things I need for survival, aren't on my list of things I can handle? I can do nothing of importance, really. I am such a control freak and multi-tasker, but when it comes down to the essentials, I am helpless.

I can't even keep myself alive.

God does give us more than we can handle. He wants us to realize that without Him, we can't even take care of our own survival. If God never gave me more than I can handle, what reason would I have to trust Him? So right now as I try to muddle through the emotional and physical strain of this life's troubles, my only choice is to believe He has it all taken care of. I feel like I write about this struggle consistently. It really is difficult for me to do. Praise God that I don't have to carry my own troubles without any help. I know they would crush my soul. I am reminded of this passage from Hosea as I cope with the lesson that it was God's idea to lead me to this place of struggle.

"Come, let us return to the Lord; for he has torn us, that he may heal us; he has struck us down, and he will bind us up.....Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord; his going out is as sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth."

I have more than I can handle, but I have found joy because I don't have to handle it anyways. My Creator and Savior has my little life in the palm of His hand. I am estranged from the comfort of the high places, but He is with me in the valley.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

It's Kind of Like a Poem

The title of my blog comes from my favorite passage of scripture in the Bible. My "life verse" is Psalm 139:23-34, but my favorite passage is definitely Ezekiel 37 or "The Valley of Dry Bones." I'm not a poet, and I will never claim to be one. Since no one reads this, I figure I write wanna-be poetry all I want. This passage of scripture is also depicted in a song called, "Dry Bones" by a band called Gungor. They are amazing- I can't even describe how their music has influenced me. I would have never read this passage of scripture if I hadn't heard their song, and wondered what the heck they were talking about. haha Here's my "kind of like a" poem.

A lifeless breeze stirs my exposed body
The sun beats down without relent
I am at home in death, it's grip I do not thwart
A lonely crack slowly begins to shake
My bones rattle violently and I am afraid
Soon the breeze becomes a vicious wind
A Man appears and lifts my brittle skeleton
My porous limbs grow soft at His touch
He lifts me from my grave
A blanket of dust and years of abandon fall to the ground
His grip is strong and floods me with a thundrous shock
Suddenly I have feeling, sight, stimulation
Blood, tissue, breath- He fills me until I am complete
He steps back, a soft smile on His face
He watches as I take in air, and breathe it out
A strange moistness slips down my face
It is then that I realize what I am
I am alive