Spiritual Obscurity

Lately I've felt like God wasn't speaking.  Getting to Kenya brought with it huge changes in the way I pictured and thought about the world.  It seemed just about every day, I (Jim) was growing in my relationship with Christ, being stretched by the things around me and a necessary dependence upon Him.  Not that our dependence isn't necessary, it's just so often forgotten when we feel adequate.

I really felt that God was convicting me of one thing:  When we came to Kenya, it took considerable surrender on my part.  I knew I'd miss my family deeply.  Woodland Park was comfortable.  I liked my colleagues, my job, our home... Colorado was home.  We were surrendering a lot.  But in the back of my mind was a little number:  Two years.

"This is for two years, then we'll see what God has for us."  It was our default response to how long we'd be in Kenya.  But was it true?  I needed to let go of everything... not just for two years, but for life.  I wrestled with myself, prayed, agonized and finally felt that I could honestly say, "I surrender!"  I expected things to really start moving then.  I knew I was on the edge of some breakthrough spiritually -  I could feel it; I expected it.

Silence.  I never before felt quite that isolated despite efforts to keep growing in my faith.  For months.  God should have been speaking to me.  I was trying my best to be faithful.  What about His end of the bargain?

On Sunday afternoon, I had a few moments of down time, so I grabbed my Bible and went outside for some peace and quite.  As I was taking my Bible off the bookshelf, I noticed 'My Utmost for His Highest.'  I read through it some time ago as a devotional, and I brought it to Kenya.  I haven't been using it, but something made me pick it up.

I turned to the entry for May 1st and read.

 "For a time we are conscious of God's attentions, then, when God begins to use us in His enterprises, we take on a pathetic look and talk of the trials and difficulties, and all the time God is trying to make us do our duty as obscure people.  None of us would be obscure spiritually if we could help it."

I was craving attention.  I wanted to be recognized.  I wanted to do something big to serve God, yes, but also to feel that I was important, somebody.

I thought for a little bit. "None of use would be obscure spiritually if we could help it."  I put the iPod on.  I'd put the entire music library - new songs, songs from before college, kids songs, audiobooks - on random shuffle the day before.  The first song was an old hymn sung by Caedmon's Call "I Boast No More."   You can try listening here.

No more, my God, I boast no more
Of all the duties I have done;

I quit the hopes I held before,

To trust the merits of thy Son.

Now, for the love I bear his name,

What was my gain I count my loss;

My former pride I call my shame,

And nail my glory to his cross.

Yes, and I must and will esteem

All things but loss for Jesus' sake:

O may my soul be found in him,

And of his righteousness partake!

The best obedience of my hands

Dares not appear before thy throne;

But faith can answer thy demands

By pleading what my Lord has done. 

Suddenly, after exasperating silence, it seemed as if God was getting out a big stick and beating truth into my head.  I need humility.