Hide and Seek; Stepping into the Storm

I said, “You are my servant”, I have chosen you and have not rejected you.

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:9-10

Like a spring storm that quietly begins to rumble in the distance, doubt rolls in ever so subtly winding itself around this thing called faith. Uneasiness sets in, joy and peace crumble, questions that have long been answered emerge like unwanted shoots firing through my mind. Faith is a shield (Ephesians 6:16) and my shield is down, flaming arrows are leaving a mark. Tumbling, wrestling, walls going up fast, my heart shutting down faster. This seeker is hiding, battle worn and weary, doubting the everlasting goodness of her God.

Uneasiness transpires to a full blown storm, wind, pouring rain, thunder that is no longer a gentle rumble, but now loud and angry, followed by lightening streaks running zigzag across the sky. Does the storm come to bring me to my knees in surrender? To shake free what I cling to? Or does it come to cleanse me, to leave me awestruck in remembrance of Who is in control? To awaken my hiding self to His presence? Does it come to move me from a place of hiding to a place of seeking?

It has taken me too long to recognize this familiar storm. Familiar, because I know it, like I know the fragrance of the air that came before it. Too long, because here I am in it again, doubting that what He has planned is wholly good, wholly satisfying, and not forgotten.

My faith in His faithfulness is what He is after, again. He will keep me here in the pelting rain until I see, until I know, until I cling to Him and let go of all doubt. He’s like that. Faithful to what He is after, to His purpose, to reminding me of His absolute sovereign goodness.

But first, I must stop hiding.

Remember. I must remember. I must recount His faithfulness, His favor, already shown to me, His promises already whispered, His direction, already given.

I must give thanks, without ceasing, without regard for the storm that rages (Philippians 4:4-6, 1 Thessalonians 5:16-17).

I must declare who He is, and was and always will be, never changing (Hebrews 13:8), never leaving (Hebrews 13:5).

I must acknowledge who I am in Him, chosen, redeemed, purposed, called by a name that only He knows.

I must tuck my head in the shelter of His all powerful word. The word that untangles scrambling roots of doubt that clog the fresh water streams of my mind. Tuck my head in the shelter of His powerful word. Let it wash over me, calming the torrential rain that comes with the storm, surrendering to the power of the One who brings the storm.

I must pray to the One who holds me under His wing, held in His protective pinions, resting in the hand of the Almighty (Psalm 91:4). Pray to the One whose faith shield never falters.

I must stop hiding and willfully engage in this battle, this battle that He controls with a thought. A storm He can hush with a whisper. Willfully engage in a battle that He has already won.

No where does His word read, first you must understand, and then…the words run more like this…trust in Me with all of your heart, and lean not on your own understanding (Proverbs 3:5-7). Let go of your intellect, your logic, your plans, hold fast to Me with all of your heart. Trust Me. Ask Me. Seek Me. Find Me. Know Me. Remember Me.

Trust who He is, was and ever more will be.

So the storm rages. So it comes back. So I fail to recognize it before it brews full. So He waits for me in the midst of it, every single time.

Tucked in the middle of Zephaniah, a book composed of words detailing war and destruction, is this truth treasure. The LORD your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing (Zephaniah 3:17). I imagine there is a melody stringing those peals of thunder together, an unimaginably beautiful melody that quiets my will to full surrender. A melody that calls me back to the reality of His patient goodness.

A rainbow emerges in the fading pink sky, not one, but two. Two reminders to the One who brings the storm. Two reminders to Him of what has been promised by Him (Genesis 9:15). Two reminders for this battle worn child that her Father is faithful (and that He is paying attention to the condition of her weary heart).

My faith is to rest not in the outcome I think God should work out for me, my faith rests in who God is. The quietness of my heart is the fruit of an absolute confidence in God.

Elisabeth Elliot