Tag Archives: Jeremiah 31

When it’s rough…

Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be shaken but endures for ever. As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds his people both now and forevermore… Lord, do good to those who are good, to those who are upright in heart..

(Ps 125.1,2&4)

Restore our fortunes, Lord, like streams in the Negev. Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy; those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them.

(Ps 126.4-6)

Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labour in vain.. In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat – for while they sleep he provides for those he loves.

(Ps 127.1-2)

May the Lord bless you from Zion; may you see the prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life. May you live to see your children’s children – peace be on Israel.

(Ps 128.5&6)

“A voice is heard in Ramah, mourning and great weeping. Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more…”

(Jer 31.15& Matt 2.18)

As God’s creation, a woman, I know that I am made in his image – I reflect his nature and character in spite of the many ways in which sin has blighted and contorted that image. My experiences as a woman, as a mother, sister, and daughter are places where I gain insight into the nature of God. Many of my emotions are prompts, by which I am moved to pray according to God’s will for the situations around me. My mother-heart is a pale reflection of the passionate, powerful love which God has for his children – and as such, I believe that my pain is also an insight into what it costs for the Almighty to watch his children suffer, to be rejected by them, to know that their choices will cost them dearly. A father will know the pain perhaps in a different way, and that too is a reflection of our great God in his unfathomable richness and depth. I speak only for myself..

And sometimes, I am Rachel… weeping and lamenting for losses which seem unbearable. I have believing friends whose children are astray from the faith in which they were raised, seemingly immune to the love of Christ and resolute in resisting the Spirit. I have believing friends who have lost adult children and young grandchildren to illness and death, who daily have to choose to keep going in the face of unimaginable grief. I have believing friends whose believing children are facing huge challenges and who are struggling to find courage to persevere.

What do God’s believing people do when their lives are assaulted by such storms – when their lives become the storm and there is no hope of relief or abatement? In these circumstances, the blessings which the psalms call down on the heads of God’s faithful people ring hollow, and we resent their apparently easy assumption that faith brings prosperity in health, family and inheritance. In these circumstances, we return to Job on his ash heap; we sit with him and silently acknowledge that God is sovereign, his ways beyond finding out and that we are but dust before him. We follow the psalmist in lamentation for the very real grief and pain, threat and danger which we are seeing and experiencing. And then we follow the psalmist in preaching to himself, in deliberately choosing to consider the God who has revealed himself to us.

We see a covenant-keeping, self-sacrificing, patient, gracious, merciful, generous, powerful and all-knowing Lord. We see Love written large in the words of the prophets, in the ministry of Jesus and ultimately across the Cross itself. We see reason to hope, when the darkest and bleakest day in history becomes the moment when light triumphs completely and for ever over death, sin and evil. If we cannot find a refuge here, then we are truly astray without any guide in a cold and hostile wilderness, and life has no more purpose or reason to be prolonged.

So let us cling on my friends, because the Cross happened, the Resurrection is true. We have a saviour who knows what it is to be human, and what grief and despair can do to us. We have a God who knows that we are frail, and who invites – no, who begs – that we continue to come to him in all our troubles, for ourselves and for others. He promises, not that it will all suddenly become easy, but that He will NEVER leave us to bear it alone.

O Lord, the mystery of your divine purposes mean that we often fall bewildered and grieving in your presence, unable to understand or bear the pain of life, and struggling to hold on to your promises. When those we love are oppressed – by pain, bereavement, unemployment, illness, and despair – we pray for your deliverance and are disappointed if those prayers appear unanswered. It is not simple.. in so many grievous situations where your believing children suffer, we are overwhelmed by the pain and your ways seem utterly obscured. O Lord, you know our frame and what we can bear – spare us, strengthen us, protect our faith and keep us clinging to you when the waves mount high. Truly, we have no hope apart from you! In Jesus’ precious name, we cry to you.. 

  • Image courtesy of Neil Urquhart – with sincere thanks!

a lament for the lost

 

“I have surely heard Ephraim’s moaning: ‘you disciplined me like an unruly calf, and I have been disciplined. Restore me and I will return, because you are the Lord my God. After I strayed, I repented; after I came to understand, I beat my breast. I was ashamed and humiliated because I bore the disgrace of my youth.’

Is not Ephraim my dear son, the child in whom I delight? Though I often speak against him, I still remember him. Therefore my heart yearns for him; I have great compassion for him, ” says the Lord

(Jer 31.18-20)

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

(Rom 5.8)

A mother waits; no word comes. Promises are broken, excuses made and the days of silence become weeks. Love and hope are mute in her heart, only endurance is heard. She is continually braced for bad news, for more pain, another hammer blow to her hope.

A father prays; nothing seems to change. Money flows through the child’s hands to self-destruction, to profligacy and risk, to endanger the lives of others and leave lifelong scars. Disappointment threatens to spill out into words of condemnation and anger.

A child grows into independence, into a self-absorbed and reckless adulthood, where pleasure rules, and anything that hurts is drugged into silence by substances, by adrenaline, by noise and constant activity… anything rather than hear the quiet voice of loving forgiveness, the persistent whisper of regret and shame, or the weeping inner child crying for hope and love and belonging.

Lord, we live in such fear for our lost sheep. Terror shoots through us in the night as we wonder where they are, who are their companions, what is happening to them? Behind the bravado of their words, and the facade of a smiling face, we hear and see the child we loved who is lost to us, seemingly forever. We guess at the risks they take; at the damage they are doing to themselves and – we fear – to others and are convulsed by grief.

You made them beautiful in your image, gifted them with compassion, creativity, energy and insight. You made them loving in your image, destined to give and receive in trust and generosity. So many gifts being squandered in a far country, on worthless things that will not last. So much energy and ability being devoted to finding fulfilment and meaning in created things, instead of the Creator. You made them above all to know and be known by you, finding their identity, security and purpose in being your beloved children. Surely, as we weep over them, your tears fall too?

God of the lost and broken, hear our prayer for our lost sheep. We know that you see them, that their ways are not hidden from your sight, and no matter how far, fast or purposefully they run from you, they cannot outdistance your love. We know that the pain we experience is a mere echo of your loving heart for the lost of this world, so determined in rejection of you and in seeking to assuage their desperate need with other things.

God who sees, who meets the exiles in distant lands, meets the despondent in the wilderness, meets the proudly independent at the peak of their achievements, we are glad to know that you will meet our lost sheep in their chosen places. Those who have quietly walked away from faith; and those who have left a trail of destruction in their going – both are equally in need of your power to restore them to life and hope. They are astute in avoiding your people; adroit in avoiding conversations about faith; resolute in their rejection of Christ who loves them, quoting a multitude of ‘reasons’ which chime with their culture. But your Spirit is not bound, and your voice is not silenced. Speak to them we pray, loudly and clearly, persistently and tenderly. Break down their defences, undermine their arguments, make them profoundly dissatisfied with all that has mattered to them, so that their hunger drives them home to you. 

How long must we wait for them? How much damage must they do before they come to their senses? You see and know and love them, will you not lay hold upon them in power today, and deliver them from the spirits which bind them to darkness, rebellion and unbelief? Your Son died for them, rose to deliver them into your family as redeemed children with a place in glory, shall his labours not bear fruit in these lives?

Lord, have mercy; Christ, have mercy; Lord, have mercy.