I feel the dew as hope seems to slip through tightly clenched fingers.  I stand on this cliff once again with wavering faith.  Struggling to believe that God’s welfare for me will occur.

And with tight eyes, I try to shut out the disbelief.  When impatience and the weary of waiting rests upon my shoulders I stand here.  I feel doubt slipping in where hope slips out.

I seem to lack the faith that God will accomplish that which He see’s fit for me.  I believe lies that He will never act.  That in this place of desertness I’ll remain.

My hope seems feeble and I peer over this sharp drop and see it failing.

I find my self envious of others green pastures and the goodness and welfare they have received there.  And as I toss in my bed, I pull back the strings of my bow and shoot arrows into my heart, reminding myself that love is not jealous.  Love is not jealous. Love is not jealous.

In these quiet moments where my mind tends to exhaust itself with thinking, I try to seek out the source of my hope.  The one who takes fear and disbelief.  Who replenishes my hope like oil in a widow’s jar.

And I breathe truth.  Truth which takes disbelief and tosses it over this cliff on which I stand.

Several years ago I fell head over heels for a guy.  When said guy informed me he didn’t share my same sentiments I did what any “good” Christian 20 year old young woman does when her heart’s been broken into a million pieces.  I threw a tantrum.  I became angry.  I blamed God.  I told God I wanted nothing to do with Him.

It took a about a month for me to get my act together and repent.  I remember it was a Good Friday service and my heart felt so heavy and so bitter.  I knew I was wrong.  Through tears and probably mangled words I confessed to our college group leader’s wife.  It took a while for me to get back to the place I was before I’d cursed at God.

I share this because I was reminded of it yesterday when I nearly stomped my feet and shouted, “NO! NO! NO!  This isn’t how it’s supposed to be!!”  Yes, even at 36 I can throw some pretty righteous tantrums.

But I want to stop for a moment and explain something.  As my heart raced and I ground my feet into the floor to prevent stomping from occurring, I had to stop and breathe.  The very thing I was freaking out about God saying no to, is something that I actually, firmly believe He may be saying yes to.  This is not a contrived feeling in my heart based on my selfish desires, but something that has been gone over (and continues to) with much prayer.

And when I slowed my breathing, and took my fears out of the voices and anger racing through my head, I heard this:  “Yes may be the answer, but what are you going to do if I say no?  I need you to be okay with it if I say no.”

This doesn’t magically make my heart okay.  It helps, but it doesn’t mean that I am all better.  That is a process in trusting and having faith no matter what the answer ends up being.

I believe that there are times God leads us through tests simply to see how we’ll react and to do as He did yesterday and remind me that no still is on the table and if He says no I need to be okay with it.

I don’t want a repeat of 15 years ago.  I never want to be in that state of heart again.  I need to consistently remind myself that just as there is a possibility of yes, there is just as much possibility of no.  I need to remind myself to trust that whatever ends up being the end result His best for me has always and will always be His motivator.

What is your natural response when God says no?

Have there been times God tested you with a “no”, and yes ended up happening?

Reading through the Bible I’m learning a lot.  This would seem fairly obvious but I’m also realizing that I have to be intentional about having an open heart and not simply reading it to be able to say I read the entire Bible.  It’s easy just to read it as I would any other book and not allow it to penetrate my soul.

I recently finished reading the Books of the Law:  Genesis – Deuteronomy.  With the exception of the first 11 chapters of 1 Chronicles Leviticus, Numbers, & Deuteronomy were the most challenging.  God repeating to Moses and the people His laws.  His sacrificial requirements.

I was thinking about the sacrifices last night.  Here’s the notes I jotted down:

◙  The Israelites were required to offer sacrifices every day.  One in the morning and one in the evening.  In addition, there were sin offerings, peace offerings, offerings if you were a woman after every cycle, offerings after you gave birth, and the list goes on.  Sacrifices were just that a sacrifice.  God required the best.  He wouldn’t settle for second best.

◙  The aroma of the sacrifices would have permeated the Israelite camp.  If you’ve ever driven by or walked by a steak house or walked out of your house while someone is grilling burgers you know that the air around is heavy laden with with the scent of cooking meat.  With at least two sacrifices daily, the aroma would have clung to their cloths, their tents, everything.  They would have constantly been reminded of the offerings they made to God.

◙  The sacrifices were not consumed.  The offerings were the sustenance for the priests and Levites.

◙  To not offer sacrifices was not only robbing God, but also the men were leading them spiritually.

Here is what this means for me (and you):

God wants our best.  We are unable to live perfect, sinless lives but we are required to live holy lives.  Living our lives for Him and not our own selfish desires.

As I daily offer my sacrifice to God the aroma of that will permeate every aspect of my life.  I’ll make wiser choices.  I’ll choose truth over lies, and holiness over sin.

I think the fact that the sacrifices were not consumed is what hit me the most.  God did not simply rain down fire to consume the flour or ram or wine.  They were offered God accepted and blessed the people.  God will not consume me when I give my daily sacrifice.  He will accept and bless and enable me to offer myself to Him the next day and the day after that.

When I choose not to live my life for God I’m robbing Him and I’m robbing myself.  I’m robbing Him of glory and worthy praise, and I’m robbing myself of His blessings.

Yesterday jealousy crept into my heart like a ghost.  Haunting areas of my life and rattling bones of skeletons I thought were safely tucked away.

In situations I thought were under control and my patience firmly rooted, I witnessed them plucked from loose soil and whipped around by chain dragging ghosts.  And observed flesh pulled back on my own self revealing festers that never quite healed fully, as envy oozed over what others have and God’s providential timing hasn’t placed into my life .

In all of this I’m learning that my story isn’t your story and your story isn’t mine.  And that with jealousy I’m saying I want your story; I don’t want my own unique one.

Jealousy longs to take your chapters and fit them into my book, but I’ll quickly see that no amount of trimming and gluing and refitting, your pages don’t and won’t align with the pages that God is writing out in my life.

Jealousy and envy tend to thrive in seasons of wait.  While we’re waiting for doors to open and questions to be answered we easily see everyone else’s doors open and questions answered.  We believe that their doors and questions had immediate responses (which often is not the case) while ours seem to take forever.

Patience is difficult but always worth the wait.  I want my story to be mine.  Uniquely written for me.  I don’t want jealousy to ghost write for me.