One Line at a Time

Last night, even as I expressed my frustration and sadness on this blog, a question was brewing in my mind:

Why, God?

Who do I feel this way? I went through the list of the usual culprits. PMS? Nope. Time of year? Maybe – January and February are usually hard on my mental health, but so far I’ve managed to stay pretty light. So, maybe, but I don’t think so. As I went through the list of possible explanations nothing seemed to fit.

But even as I did that mental exercise, there was something there in the background that I didn’t really acknowledge, that I was either too tired or too stubborn to acknowledge. That God IS there. That God KNOWS why, even if I don’t. And especially this, that no matter how many times in my life I have cycled in and out of the darkness, God has remained constant and continually and relentlessly has reminded me of his great love for me. Even as accusations hurl towards me, often from right inside my own mind, God swoops in and whispers: precious, valued, redeemed, beautiful, adored, faithful, enduring, loving, loved, mine, mine, mine, mine. 

His.

And it isn’t just a hunch that I have. He shows me. He tells me. He reminds me of this truth over and over. Mine, mine, mine, mine mine. Love, love, love, love, love.

So why do I continue to go back to the dark places? And so quickly and easily? What is wrong with me that God keeps having to teach me the same lesson over and over?

This morning I got out of bed when the alarm rang at 6. I peeled of my pajama shirt and started putting on my workout clothes so I could head down to the elliptical machine in the basement. Suddenly. Not today. Today I need the quiet. and the Word. So I put my jammies back on, and my warm robe and fuzzy socks. I found coffee waiting for me in the kitchen from my hubby who just left for work shortly before I woke. I found my Bible and I picked up where I left off in Isaiah.

I found my comfort in a weird spot. In Isaiah 28 the prophet is… well he’s prophesying, which means I don’t really understand what is going on… but at one point he id describing the priests as drunkards. Not a pretty picture. It says “They reel when they see visions and stagger when they render decisions. Their tables are covered with vomit; filth is everywhere.

“Who does the Lord think we are?” they ask. “Why does he speak to us like this?

Are we little children, just recently weaned?

He tells us everything over and over –

one line at a time

one line at a time

a little here

and a little there!”

When I read that I laughed. The drunken priests, metaphorical or not, seem arrogant, belligerent, to me.  They are complaining that the Lord speaks to them this way.

Not me. I say, God tells me I am HIS, and praise that he speaks to me like this. YES I am a little child, just recently weaned. He tells me everything over and over.

Mine, mine, mine, mine.

One line at a time.

One line at a time.

As many times as I need to hear it. Because he loves me.

A little here. A little there. One line at a time.

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2 thoughts on “One Line at a Time

  1. Amen! He loves you. My desktop calendar has a great quote for today, which totally fits the theme of your post. I’ll share it in the hope that it encourages you as it did me:

    “God loves me. He doesn’t just tolerate me. He doesn’t just put up with me because I’m a Christian and He has to. He really, truly loves me.”

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