by Megan Johnson | Jun 24, 2017 | Life, MS, Uncategorized
A friend and I were talking about longing for heaven a mere week ago. Our hearts both seeing the beauty around us as heaven comes to earth now, but also the brokenness around us that we long to be made whole. It wasn’t but a few days later that she endured some really hard news and was struck afresh by brokenness. News that makes you cling to the hope of God being sovereign and Jesus coming back.
It reminds me to read one of my hands-down-favorite stories from the Jesus Storybook Bible. The interpretation of Revelation, “A Dream of Heaven”, which I can’t get through without weeping and choking out the words… Hear the beauty and power in this:
“And the King says, ‘Look! God and his children are together again. No more running away. Or hiding. No more crying or being lonely or afraid. No more being sick or dying. Because all those things are gone. Yes, they’re gone forever. Everything sad has come untrue. And see – I have wiped every tear from every eye!’…..And John knew, in some mysterious way that would be hard to explain, that everything was going to be more wonderful for having been so sad. And he knew that the ending of The Story was going to be so great, it would make all the sadness and tears and everything seem like just a shadow that is chased away by the morning sun.”
Wow. The sadness and tears will seem like a shadow because the ending will be so great. I can’t fathom. I can never read through that without getting choked up so I let my kids see my tears this time and ask me why. I tell them, “I can be thankful even for something like MS because I get to have a longing for heaven I wouldn’t have had otherwise. I wouldn’t have thought I needed to be made new if I didn’t know brokenness. I wouldn’t long for it if I saw the world only through the eyes of the well.”
Russ Ramsey says, “Unmet desires in this life are intended to arouse a hunger for the next. Physical limitations are felt as an ache for a perfected body. Coming face to face with my mortality has awakened my appetite for eternity. As I have stood at the summit and surveyed the distant mountains beyond, I have longed to explore. Beyond what I can see lies a glory I was made to behold. The grand adventure tugs at my heart…Tim Keller wrote, ‘Human beings are hope shaped creatures. The way you live now is completely controlled by what you believe about the future’. This isn’t a hope we can create or muster. It must be given. And by the grace of God it is – a hope that ‘does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us’ (Romans 5:5-6)” (Struck, pg 152-153)
I feel awakened. Awakened to the reality that I can’t fathom the wonder of heaven. Awakened to pain around me, and because of that, awakened far more to the beauty around me. Awakened to adventure and living to the fullest — whether it’s resting really well and not feeling guilty about it or doing something challenging and exhilarating I didn’t think I could do.
I believe, for myself, my family, and my dear friends, that God is good. God is sovereign – mysteriously beyond me in wisdom and love. I believe He is restoring and making all things new around me and you, even now, in the way our kids laugh, the way our taste buds delight in delicious food, and a good story can make us laugh and cry simultaneously. I want to embrace that and live fully – hoping, lamenting, laughing, and dancing – in sorrow and in joy, as we get tastes of heaven on earth. I believe that when He comes back finally and fully that He will make things new in a way we can’t even imagine and better than we could even dream. Hungering for that Kingdom changes that way I laugh, grieve, love, and dance here. I know it can change you too.
by Megan Johnson | Jun 10, 2017 | Church, Life, Mom, MS, Uncategorized
Towards the end of December, as I thought on the new year and the mystery therein, the Lord graciously led me to mine out the many diamonds of Isaiah 55, including: “and you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace and the mountains and hills before you shall burst forth into singing and the trees of the field shall clap their hands.” I’m struck by the word of the Lord enabling me to go out in joy and peace, into the mystery, but also floored by the fact that the mountain isn’t moved. Think about that. The Lord CAN throw the mountain into the midst of the sea – absolutely – that’s miraculous DELIVERING grace! But, in this passage, it’s still there.
Tall. Sturdy. Unmoving.
And yet, it’s breaking forth into singing! How often do I miss this? The beauty of the new road I’m on and the mountain and hills around me? It’s not simply a detour I need to rush and pray to “get through”, but it is the new road – a new road filled with SUSTAINING grace. Not an interruption, but an opportunity – really, an invitation. An invitation to admit dependance, an invitation for great courage and learning new things, an invitation to turn mourning into dancing. Henri Nouwen says: “As we dance and walk forwards, grace provides the ground on which the steps fall. Prayer puts us in touch with the God of the Dance. We look beyond our experience of sadness or loss by learning to receive an all-embracing love, a love that meets us in everyday moments. And so, we wait patiently, if the situation requires it, watching for gifts to come where we are. ” (Turn My Mourning Into Dancing, pg 14-15).
And this new road, on the mountain, is full of good and beauty and gifts waiting to be discovered, mined out, and cherished. Oh, how I long to remember this daily! Whether it’s a mountain of laundry, or what seems like a mountain of an unending season of seemingly fruitless discipline for my kids, or a mountain of questions about the future I simply cannot answer. The Lord’s sustaining grace is all around. Isaiah goes on to say: “instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress; instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; and it shall make a name for the Lord, an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.”
Being a lover of trees, I did a quick Google search on these trees and found that the Mediterranean cypress is known for longevity, ability to withstand storms, and pointing straight up to heaven.
That the myrtle that grows most commonly in the Mediterranean areas grows there because it requires a long, hot summer to produce its flowers.
The Lord, as He commonly does, dropped this in my lap on December 29 as I looked across the abyss into a a new year. Wow. What beauty and power in those words and imagery – in the entirety of Isaiah 55 as the Lord invites all who are thirsty, broken, and poor, to come and be satisfied. What hope! What seems like a treacherous mountain ahead has gifts waiting to be discovered. What seems like an unending long hot season of trial or wondering is producing flowers! So, walking in peace, being led forth in joy walking straight into the mystery. We savor Christ in the mystery, on the new road winding towards the mountain, because HE has been faithful in the past and HE will be faithful in the future. Where is He inviting me, where is He inviting you, to see the gifts within the mountains?
by Megan Johnson | Jun 1, 2017 | Life, MS, Uncategorized
I really wanted to write something else today. But I can’t shake the leading of the Lord to share this particular thought right now…even though I had other ideas and plans. Maybe it’s because I’m a pastor’s wife, but I am literally surrounded by friends who are journeying through loss, questions, struggle, fear and unforeseen diagnosis’ in this season of life. So, here’s something that I hope is encouraging and, most of all, God-filled for those of you who are in, will be in, or have been in a long, dark night…
Dark. Sometimes it’s dark y’all. Usually when it’s night. Both literally and figuratively speaking, of course. You’ve been there. I’ve been there. Or you will be there if you haven’t yet. Gloomy. Black. Dusky. Seemingly unending. I have had days (usually all in a row) when I feel like a vacuum has sucked all the emotion and feeling out of me. Or that, it feels like I’m being plunged into water against my will and that even a quick breath up above the surface isn’t much to hope for because I’m going to get plunged back down again. Maybe you’ve been there? In that pit of despair? Not knowing when the dark night will end? If you have, you know exactly what I’m talking about. But, hear this (my soul as well as yours!), it’s NEVER WASTED. Not one dark night of the soul is without purpose. Maybe that’s the most important thing I can say: no season is ever a waste for a child of God. Drink it in. Fall in that stream. Cry and weep there. Let the LORD do His work. Speak scripture aloud because the Word of the Lord is powerful, even if your heart doesn’t feel it. Drink deeply from the fountain of all that is Him and keep abiding – even when it feels pointless. Even when you feel apathetic; even when the answers don’t seem to come; even when hope keeps slipping through your outstretched fingertips; even when the joy you once knew seems like just that – a joy you once knew.
Because, somehow, there are gifts in the night. Gifts our eyes aren’t aware of in the day. I want to see them, and that means being fully aware of where I actually am and being okay to sit in that season and be fully alive there.
Our theology of God in salvation – that He alone can rescue — must be the theology of our dark nights — He alone can and will rescue. May your heart rest on this rock-solid foundation of truth:
“He sent from on high, he took me; he drew me out of many waters. He rescued me from my strong enemy and from those who hated me, for they were too mighty for me…the Lord was my support…he rescued me, because He delighted in me.” Psalm 18:16-18
I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined His ear to me and heard my cry. He drew me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.” Psalm 40:1-2
Make haste O Lord, to deliver me! O Lord, make haste to help me! …. You are my help and deliverer; O Lord, do not delay! Psalm 70:1, 5
Here’s one of my anthems for the dark night and difficulty trusting (King of My Heart, by Sarah and John Mark McMillian, and the live version is best!)
Let the king of my heart
Be the mountain where I run
The fountain I drink from
(He is my song)
Let the king of my heart
Be the shadow where I hide
The ransom for my life
He is my song
You are good, good.
Let the king of my heart
Be the wind inside my sails
The anchor in the waves
(He is my song)
Let the king of my heart
Be the fire inside my veins
The echo of my days
He is my song
When the night
Is holding on to me
God is holding on
You are good, good.
When the night
Is holding on to me
God is holding on
You are good, good.
You’re never gonna let
Never gonna let me down
You’re never gonna let
Never gonna let me down
You’re never gonna let
Never gonna let me down
When the night
Is holding on to me
God is holding on
You’re never gonna let go
Never gonna let me down
When the night is holding on to me, God is holding on.
I like add in a few extra “when the night is holding on to me”, and will myself to say with grit and determination and a nodding head, “you are good”.
I’ll leave you with this quote, this hope…May what CH Spurgeon says come to life in us: “Our infirmities become the black velvet on which the diamond of God’s love glitters all the more brightly.” (Check out: 10 Spurgeon Quotes for Wounded Christians)
May we be fully where we are – even if the night is holding on to us – trusting that God’s hold on us is greater and open our uncertain hearts to the gifts He gives in darkness.
