Still stuck in Isaiah 58 and the very first verse is shouting my name today in a not entirely pleasant way.
Cry out loudly, don’t hold back! Raise your voice like a trumpet.
Isaiah goes on to implore us to weep and wail because those with whom we share a neighborhood or a city or a country or a spinning globe, are far from flourishing.
If I’m honest, I have some trouble here. My emotional tank is pretty much empty – or, maybe not empty – maybe just used up on things closer to home. I’m spending a lot of energy dealing with the stuff inside the walls of the Family Stern. It’s hard to move my heart outside to other places and feel for them as well. I stay away from sad movies. I’m careful with the news I read. I know it’s cowardly, but it feels like survival. Fear and self-absorption, dressed up like wisdom.
The thing is, it hasn’t always been like this. I used to care so much about orphans, brutalized in other countries, and a generation of American teenagers being beaten up by our culture. They were wedged in my heart in a way that kept me up at night, dreaming of solutions and strategies for change. Now, I push aside the heavy thoughts, certain I can’t afford to feel sad about anything else and I only have enough to take care of my own people. Only enough bread for my own house.
Through this fast, however, God has been whispering to me something dark and stormy and dangerous and it’s this: It’s okay to feel again. In fact, He’s telling me it’s more than okay – it’s right and wonderful and, though it seems like it will break me, it will not. It will actually strengthen and expand my heart in ways that let me breathe deeply again. This singular focus I’ve had on the sorrow in my own world is like daily submitting to water torture – the constant dripping of one drop in one spot leads to miry, myopic living. Today, I can feel Him gently lifting my head to look around at our beautiful, broken world and saying, “See it. Feel it. Serve it.”
Without the willingness and supernatural ability to feel the pain of those sick with hunger and poverty and loneliness, we will never have the passion to become the healing we are called to become. Christ in us, the hope of glory. That counts for something. That ought to matter. Jesus, make it matter more to me than ever. I can’t do everything, but I can do something, and I want to hear my something today. I want to be re-called and reclaimed for this grand adventure of bringing hope to a hurting world .
Part of a prayer I love by Walter Brueggemann makes a bold ask, and I’m shouting it up to the heavens for myself and my church:
We are listeners, but we do not listen well.
So we bid you, by the time the sun goes down today
or by the time the sun comes up tomorrow,
by night or by day,
that You will speak in ways that we can hear
out beyond ourselves.
It is your speech to us that carries us where we have never been,
and it is your speech to us that is our only hope.
So give us ears. Amen.
Amen.
Bo
Thank you so much for sharing your daily struggle with a struggling world. We are both saddened by the Stern Family dilemma, and encouraged by your constant seeking of God’s strength and the hope that comes from that search. What you write has become a part of my daily devotional.
Dear Bo,
This so speaks to me today. I too have begun to hear His sweet voice to wake once again and get out of the security of my isolation.To once again have a voice and get out into the world.
Thank-you!
Thank you Go for your sharing and growing in his grace. We are praying for you, Steve and the family. We know that God is with you all and working His purposes in your lives.
Hi Bo,
this is Suzanne’s dad. Loved your post. Anyway laying in bed last night at like 10:30 and Georgina, my wife, says lets pray for Steve, so we did. He had been on her heart all day as she was putting her song together to lead worship. I preached on “The Why Question” and used your chap. on the God who knows all. That is not the name of the chapter as I left the book at church, but it starts on page 51. put the last section up on the screen for all to read and it really ministered to people. The book Ruthless. That chap. really, really helped me a lot. Any, just wanted to let you know you and your family are in our prayers and thoughts. We stand with you for a miracle!!! Cliff
Bo,
I wanted to say hello this morning. Knowing your walk of faith now, I instead stepped close to pray. To pray for the family I was with and to pray over yours. To pray bold prayer of endurance, of peace, of hope, of joy.
It was such an encouragement to see you this morning.
I was thankful to introduce all of our girls (five between two families!) to a woman who showed me first that women can preach, women can stand strong, women are called. Thank you for Selah many years ago, and thank you for today.