The other day, my husband Jem and I had a celebration. We have much to celebrate: walks outside, fall leaves, haircuts, hollow tree trunks, playgrounds, music, picnics, carpet, grass, garden tools, shoes, grapes, carrot cake, sea food, finger food, a fancy restaurant, grape tomatoes, the library, cuddles on the couch... all things that just a few months ago, OCD had not allowed me to enjoy or do.
We called it our Ebenezer celebration day. You know the old hymn, "Come Thou Fount." The second verse begins with:
"Here I raise my Ebenezer.
Hither by thy help I've come;
And I hope by thy good pleasure
Safely to arrive at home."
Tucked back in 1 Samuel, there is a story of a battle between the Israelites and the Philistines. It was not an absolute victory. It was not to be their final battle with their enemies. But it was significant, and Samuel needed to commemorate it. He set up a rock, a monument, and called it, "Ebenezer," which means "Rock of Help." "So far," he said, "God has helped us" (see 1 Samuel 7:12b). It would stand as a lasting memorial of God's power to help, and evidence that He would help again.
Ebenezer--Rock of Help. I have arrived. I do still fee like I'm still in the battle, like Israel with the Philistines, and I fear fresh outbreak of war each day,...
Yet, God has subdued my enemies. They hold no power over me. Niether the fear, nor the anguish of anxiety, nor the fear of fear is victor. Christ is Victor, and with Him, so am I.
"Looking deeply at our royal lineage, we see that we are of the highest royal line.... We need rush nowhere else to get it. We mainly need to attentively relax and dissolve the amnesia that obscures our true identity" (Tilden H. Edwards, quoted in Benson and Benson, 1989, p. 69).
It takes courage to attentively relax in the midst of what I still experience as a raging battle. It means I let down my guard a bit. It means I celebrate partial advance, and risk being embarrassed later by apparent defeat, retreat. But if I don't celebrate, if I don't commemorate, I miss the grace along the way. I miss the process by which God makes me who I am created to be.
So child of God, don't forget who you are. You are not your fear. He brought this pain into your life to make you "more than conqueror" (Romans 8:37). Embrace the pain--it is your enemy's weapon turned against himself. Pain, the enemy's sharp sword, glittering, raised by Christ in your conquering hand. God raising you up in victory.
Here I raise my Ebenezer. "So far, God has helped me."
J
We called it our Ebenezer celebration day. You know the old hymn, "Come Thou Fount." The second verse begins with:
"Here I raise my Ebenezer.
Hither by thy help I've come;
And I hope by thy good pleasure
Safely to arrive at home."
Tucked back in 1 Samuel, there is a story of a battle between the Israelites and the Philistines. It was not an absolute victory. It was not to be their final battle with their enemies. But it was significant, and Samuel needed to commemorate it. He set up a rock, a monument, and called it, "Ebenezer," which means "Rock of Help." "So far," he said, "God has helped us" (see 1 Samuel 7:12b). It would stand as a lasting memorial of God's power to help, and evidence that He would help again.
Ebenezer--Rock of Help. I have arrived. I do still fee like I'm still in the battle, like Israel with the Philistines, and I fear fresh outbreak of war each day,...
Yet, God has subdued my enemies. They hold no power over me. Niether the fear, nor the anguish of anxiety, nor the fear of fear is victor. Christ is Victor, and with Him, so am I.
"Looking deeply at our royal lineage, we see that we are of the highest royal line.... We need rush nowhere else to get it. We mainly need to attentively relax and dissolve the amnesia that obscures our true identity" (Tilden H. Edwards, quoted in Benson and Benson, 1989, p. 69).
It takes courage to attentively relax in the midst of what I still experience as a raging battle. It means I let down my guard a bit. It means I celebrate partial advance, and risk being embarrassed later by apparent defeat, retreat. But if I don't celebrate, if I don't commemorate, I miss the grace along the way. I miss the process by which God makes me who I am created to be.
So child of God, don't forget who you are. You are not your fear. He brought this pain into your life to make you "more than conqueror" (Romans 8:37). Embrace the pain--it is your enemy's weapon turned against himself. Pain, the enemy's sharp sword, glittering, raised by Christ in your conquering hand. God raising you up in victory.
Here I raise my Ebenezer. "So far, God has helped me."
J
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