"Through the storm, through the night"

A great cartoon from the New Yorker 

Yesterday, I was sitting in Denton Square Donuts, a little shop in “downtown” Denton. I love going there because not only are the donuts irresistible, but the quirky, laid-back vibe makes me feel like I am back in Austin. Their motto is “come for the donuts, stay for the culture.” All this to say that yesterday I found myself at a table there listening to a local artist and waiting for my friend to get his donut. The table I was sitting at was covered with an assortment of old hymns that made up the tabletop. I was looking at the hymns when my eye caught this one:

 

Precious Lord

“Precious Lord, take my hand

            Lead me on, let me stand

            I'm tired, I’m weak, I’m lone

            Through the storm, through the night

            Lead me on to the light

            Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home

            When my way grows drear precious Lord linger near

            When my life is almost gone

            Hear my cry, hear my call

            Hold my hand lest I fall

            Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home

            When the darkness appears and the night draws near

            And the day is past and gone

            At the river I stand

            Guide my feet, hold my hand

            Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home

            Precious Lord, take my hand

            Lead me on, let me stand

            I'm tired, I’m weak, Lord I’m worn

            Through the storm, through the night

            Lead me on to the light

            Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home”

I remembered hearing that hymn before, I just couldn’t place it. Then I remembered a memorial I attended eight years ago for one of my sister’s classmates, who died unexpectedly of heart complications while on a band trip. One of the band directors tearfully sang that hymn during the service. It was one of the most beautiful, haunting things I have ever heard. Just thinking about it gives me chills. I remember crying through the whole service. I had never met the boy who died, but I couldn’t help thinking how unfair it was that someone who sounded so full of life had to die at the age of sixteen. It was like he had been cheated.

This week has been a whirlwind of news, and in the flurry of it all, I couldn’t help but feel that the victims had been cheated. They were not supposed to die yet; they were supposed to celebrate running a marathon in Boston, or sleep soundly in their homes in West. I think of their families, how they had no way of preparing for such a tragedy, and I grieve for them. My only consolation is resting in the knowledge that we serve a just God. Hebrews 6:19 says:

“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”

This week, “through the storm, through the night,” God took some of his people home. Amidst the destruction and the chaos, he was an anchor, steadfast and in control. Jesus defeated death so that we don’t have to fear when evil shows itself. We can rest in the understanding that we are not bound to our earthly bodies, but that our souls serve an all-powerful God. We can pray earnestly that God would reveal himself in the midst of the tragedy and grief. 

  

"Take away the dross from the silver, and the smith has material for a vessel." Proverbs 25:4

I was sitting in Political Science, my Word document occupying half of the screen, my Pinterest page the other.  On top of that, I was online window shopping, checking my email, and refreshing my Instagram feed. All of a sudden, people around me started to pack up. I felt myself slowly beginning to tune back into reality, and realized that class was over. How many notes had I ignored? Did I miss anything important? I walked back to my dorm, checking my twitter feed the whole way. When I got back, I briefly entertained the thought of homework, but got on Netflix instead. Soon, the West Wing, my newest addiction, was dull, so I played a game on my phone while I watched. When even that   wasn’t enough, I opened a can of cashews and began snacking too. 

I wish that I could say this wasn’t an everyday thing for me, but that wouldn’t be true. I have ADD, so I am constantly searching for some kind of stimulation. I never listen to more than half of a class lecture, and I rarely get ten minutes into a TV show before I am reaching for my phone. The day I was describing, last Friday, was pretty routine, until nighttime.

I am a night owl. Nights are my time to unwind. Late last Friday, as I got home from being with friends, it hit me.  In that moment, the weight of the past few months came crashing down on me. What was I doing? It was like I could see myself from someone else’s view: the way I had spent my political science class alternating between taking notes and browsing the web until I wasn’t even taking notes anymore. And how I didn’t make eye contact with one person on my way back to my dorm I was too absorbed in my Twitter feed. Sad thing is, it took me having ten seconds without distraction to realize I was totally miserable. I felt that I was generally content, but if I really thought about it, I was disconnected from reality.

I started crying, and then I broke down. Feeling God pressing at my heart, I picked up my Bible. I opened it at random, and started reading passages from Psalm 119. I read verse 105, a classic, ” your word is a lamp to my feet, and a light for my path.”

I began to realize that I had opened myself up to dozens of avenues for filling my constant need for stimulation, neglecting the only One that can satisfy. I confessed to God that my heart had strayed, and that I needed Him to bring me back. But that wasn’t enough. God convicted me, and I knew that I had to get off of Pinterest and Netflix until the school year is over. I felt a tug in my heart as I tried to rationalize a way out. When I finally said aloud, “Ok God, I am off of Pinterest and Netflix until summer. Empty me out, and fill me up with your Spirit,” I felt relieved.

It’s funny how tightly we cling to things that are fleeting. When I think about how hard it was for me to promise God to do something as simple as fasting from two trivial websites for a month, I am ashamed. Sometimes, I think because I am ADD, I feel the need to avoid even a second of down time, but that’s when we truly engage with God. I have been going regularly to church and attending Bible study, but that isn’t enough. While community is vital, so is time alone with our creator.

For the next month, I am taking the time that I would have wasted watching TV or re-pinning cat memes and spending it reading through the New Testament. Since I am already pretty familiar with Matthew, I am starting with Mark. I hope that by doing this, I can begin to understand the character of Jesus. It hasn’t even been a week, and already I feel different. I don’t feel as weighed down by the frivolous things I was spending my time on, and I feel that God is helping me realign my priorities in a way that pleases him.

But I don’t think I am done stripping away yet. Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, etc. These social media sites are great for communicating and staying informed, but right now, they only offer distractions. I am realizing that the point of my breakdown Friday night was not so that I could outline a couple specific things to give up, but rather to overhaul my daily life. I am realizing that abstaining from Pinterest does not give me license to stay on Twitter during class, and that yes, Hulu is the same thing as Netflix. I am not going to go on a rampage, deleting all of my social networking accounts, but I am going to stop incessantly checking them, looking to them to provide anything more than a few minutes of entertainment. I think this next month is going to be a time of growth, where God is going to empty me of the idols I have built, and fill me up with a better understanding of him. At least, that’s what I’m hoping for.

I realize that Passover has ended and that Lent is over. But that doesn’t mean it’s open season. There are so many areas in our lives where God is saying “give that up, choose me instead.” I heard a verse at Bible study a few weeks ago that has resonated with me:

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” –Psalm 73:26

“My portion forever.” I love that. As you read this, think about ways that you make other things your “portion,” and give them to God. Over the next few weeks, ask God to empty them from your lives, and find out with me how willing and able He is to fill them.