deep desperation

i finished "enjoying god" and as always, i am amazed at the Lord's sovereignty in my life, how perfect He is in His timing, how precise He is in His plan. i started this book fall semester with my discipler, and when i started meeting with hillary in the spring, i just set the book aside, not knowing whether i would read it again later. as i packed for camp, i hurriedly grab it off the shelf, not thinking anything of it. and as i have read the second half here, almost seven months later, it is speaking exactly to where i am. it's so cool how the Lord used what seemed to me to be a not-so-great situation to grow me in this past week or so.

i love how God's ways are so much higher than my own.

in the book, hill addresses God's withdrawing His presence from us and how this can be the Lord's way of growing us into a deeper desire for intimacy with Him. i have been feeling a little bit dry lately, and i think a lot of this has to do with the fact that i haven't been able to really worship regularly. it's hard doing teaching program things, because i need to be making sure things are running smoothly while everyone else is singing. this isn't exactly the same as the Lord taking His presence, but it feels similarly to me. in turn, i am feeling a longing for the Lord bubble up in me, which is a really good thing, something i've been needing to experience.

there is a story in the book of a teacher and young man he is mentoring. the teacher walks the guy, eyes closed, into a lake until his head is covered. the teacher holds him under. eventually, the student starts to kick and flail, trying to come up to breathe. when the young man asks the teacher why he would do that, the teacher simply replied, "when you want God as much as you wanted air, you shall find Him."

on thursday, i was swimming a bit in the ocean after the mudpit (part of the sweating-out-the-pluff-mud-smell process). i decided to try this little story, and so i took as many strokes as possible before breathing. as i would finally gasp for some air, i would think about how much i felt i needed that air, and what it felt like to receive it.

this reminded me of how we don't really think through the things we sing. there is a worship song with the words "i need You more than the air i breathe." as many times as i have sung that song, i had never considered what i was professing until thursday. i had never thought through what wanting the Lord more than oxygen would look like. but i think i may have acquired a tiny glimpse of this.

and out of my barrenness and brokenness, i find i thirst for Jesus, knowing that He sees me even in my wilderness.