Through Smoke

Before the truth will come to fill our eyes,

The wool comes down in the form of fire 

And when the answers and the truth have cut their ties 

Will you still find me ,

Will you still see me, through smoke?

...And when the answers and the truth have cut their ties 

Will you still find me ,

Will you still see me through smoke?

When their whispers have painted pictures that 

Make you doubt what you once believed in 

Paper stories that hide the glory 

To keep us searching 

Through smoke 

Who do you believe when you can't get through (through smoke) 

When everything you know seems so untrue (through smoke) 

When I'm lost in a place that I thought I knew (through smoke) 

Give me some way that I might find you (through smoke) 

 Not only has this summer been a  hot one physically. It's been a scorcher spiritually.

Before the truth will come to fill our eyes,

 The wool comes down in the form of fire ...

It's Hazy.

Humid.

Uncomfortable.

I don't want to go outside because of the heat. It's too uncomfortable.

I don't want to go closer to this refiners fire because it hurts.

 I've taken a break from being involved so intimately with my God. Not intentionally. It kind of stings right now.

It feels like He is the one taking a break from me but in my head, I know that nothing could be further from the truth. 

I am just at a loss at how to communicate with God at all lately:

Not because I don't trust him

(that sounds like the good thing to say here)

Not because I don't believe in him

(even this week, I've questioned my faith more times than I care to admit. This small admission will suffice).

I am at a loss because for the first time in a long time I don't hear a ready reply on the other end of the spiritual phone line.

Maybe He is speaking but I am just not sure I want to hear what he has to say. That could be it. I wonder if the weirdness and the warfare of my circumstances are so thick that he can't see me.

Will you still find me,

Will you still see me through smoke ?

With so many of those around me walking in what seems to be in a season of abundance, I feel left out.

Surrounded by other's blessings, I struggle with being permeated with envy.

Surrounded by other's obvious answers to prayer, I wonder if my voice is even heard. I'm confused why I can't see past this spiritual smokiness.

Some things just seem to work out so perfectly and in such a quick time for many people and that it makes it hard to remember that God may choose to work differently in me.

I could be the special one, after all...

I am Bombarded with phrases like:

"Keep trusting."

"I thought I was!"

"it's all in God's hands"

"where are they?"

"believe in His perfect timing"

"How long, O, Lord, must we wait?"

"He has a plan"

"?!"

Cause when the answers and the truth take different sides 

Will you still find me,

Will you still see me through smoke?

I nod and I thank the people who say them. Because in reality, they are probably trying to give me a Word in season; to build me up and  encourage my faint heart.  But I long for the blockade between my mind and my heart to be opened. Knowing and feeling are different.  For this part of my soul to feel so dead and lonely is more than I can take at moments. I remember just now that feeling means, I am not dead...yet.  I want to feel in every fiber of my being that I DO trust in his every Word, that he has me securely wrapped in his huge, loving hands and that, in His perfect timing, this "plan" will be unveiled with grandeur.  

I am reminded of the fruit of the spirit:

 Missy, don't grow weary of being patient and being kind and doing that which is good and faithful and gentle and self-controlled.

Then it hits me just now.

When we aren't controlled by the Holy Spirit, the works of the flesh come in.

My fleshly mind starts working.

 "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." Ephesians 6:12 

When their whispers have painted pictures that 

Make you doubt what you once believed in ...

But Galatians 6:9 says, "Let us not grow weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart."

To keep us searching 

Through smoke..

In the moments, days, weeks where I am disappointed and unsure I need to take those words meant in comfort and use them to draw strength and life to my fading self.

My enemy lurks about to destroy my faith; to uproot the seeds and the firmly rooted trees of truth and trust in my life.  He wants to separate me from this Hope in which I am placing every desire of my heart.

Who do you believe when you can't get through (through smoke) 

When everything you know seems so untrue (through smoke) 

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?....

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:35,37-39

The unbelief, the distrust, the distress, the mess-ups, the questioning, the confusion that's my smoke. But he's using the fire for  his purposes.

“For you, O God, tested us; 

You refined us like silver." Psalm 66:10

 "As a father has compassion on his children, 

 so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him;

 for he knows how we are formed,

  he remembers that we are dust." 

Psalm 103:13-14

  

I am asking my God to remember my frame today. I ask for forgiveness for my doubt for my whining. And I thank him, that amidst the silliness that is my weak and powerless enemy, he is refining me to be "Something Beautiful" 

When I'm lost in a place that I thought I knew (through smoke) 

Give me some way that I might find you (through smoke) 

God, listen to me shout, bend an ear to my prayer. When I'm far from anywhere, 

down to my last gasp, 

I call out, "Guide me 

up High Rock Mountain!" 

You've always given me breathing room, 

a place to get away from it all, 

A lifetime pass to your safe-house, 

an open invitation as your guest. 

You've always taken me seriously, God, 

made me welcome among those who know and love you. 

Psalm 61

When I'm lost in a place that I thought I knew (through smoke) 

Give me some way that I might find you (through smoke)