MOVING FORWARD â—½ ENCOURAGEMENT
Ridiculous Praise
by Pam Charro
I've recently come to grips with how disadvantaged I am in certain areas, and it can really make some situations appear hopeless. One of those areas is an ability to feel a satisfying emotional connection with an authority figure. It wasn't instilled (or even remotely available) at an early age when I desperately needed it. And now, even though my head understands that I can have it with God, I just don't know how. I have practiced for years, but I keep realizing that having this connection remains such a weak area for me.
How I long to be like John and just rest my head on Jesus' chest, able to consider myself "the disciple Jesus loves" -- as though I were the only one -- but it's so unnatural and awkward for me to feel that degree of ease with him (even though it would be so wonderful!) Sometimes, I feel so sad. Will I ever feel loved and cared for the way that I know I am? Will I ever feel seen and heard and enjoyed by the one who died for me? It seems the answer is no.
But our sermon today was from Luke 4, where Jesus was explaining to the crowd that he was the fulfillment of Isaiah 61. However, many were unable to accept this truth because they knew him as Joseph's son. And Jesus offended the religious people by telling them that God is often able to more greatly bless those who appear to be disqualified, as they aren't even God's people, but they have greater faith and are able to receive the blessing. It helped me to realize that my setbacks from my earlier life won't necessarily stop me from being blessed. But it also challenges me to press on and continue in what I already know.
What does that look like?
It's obedience. No matter what. In fact, I am convinced that my sacrifice of praise is more appreciated by God when it sounds ridiculous to everyone else. When it makes no sense whatsoever to have even a shred of faith. I will only get so many opportunities to give him that kind of trust and glory while completely helpless to change my situation.
It’s proclaiming that he is always good when my difficult circumstances haven't changed.
It’s to speak that he sees me, hears me, and cares about how I feel even in the middle of suffering.
It’s to insist that I am aware he is always working, even when I don't see it or feel it.
And it’s all because his ways and thoughts are higher than mine. He is good at being God when I am not. And he knows the perfect gifts that I need, or may not really yet need, despite my opinion. The bigger picture for my highest possible good.
The woman I am becoming in all of the discomfort
will be so very worth all of the temporary pain
as I cling to him.
Giving him praise in the middle of the storm is warfare. It's the highest praise when it seems most ridiculous. And I don't want to miss a single chance to do it.