His "I wills"

When it happens I rarely can explain why. I can hardly put a finger on an exact event or a single happening and assign blame. It’s usually just a feeling that leaves me wanting to retreat, to bury my head in my pillow and cry.
And of course, I figured I am the only one.
Until this week.

Early in the week, I read-
     There are mornings when I wake up feeling fragile. Vulnerable. It’s often vague. No single threat. No one weakness. Just an amorphous sense that something is going to go wrong and I will be responsible. It’s usually after a lot of criticism. Lots of expectations that have deadlines and that seem too big and too many.
     As I look back over about 50 years of such periodic mornings, I am amazed how the Lord Jesus has preserved my life. And my ministry. The temptation to run away from the stress has never won out — not yet anyway. This is amazing. I worship him for it.
     How has he done this? By desperate prayer and particular promises. I agree with Spurgeon: I love the “I wills” and the “I shalls” of God.
 And that confession comes from a pastor, from John Piper, he who created the term “Christian hedonism,” he who wholeheartedly believes that “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him." John Piper suffers the same unexplainable vulnerabilities as I do?

But as answer to our cry, Piper and I both found ourselves in the book of Zechariah that day. And we both quickly came back to the “I wills” of God in found in Zechariah 2-
“For I,’ declares the Lord, ‘will be a wall of fire around her, and I will be the glory in her midst." (verse 5)

“Sing for joy and be glad, O daughter of Zion; for behold I am coming and I will dwell in your midst,’ declares the Lord.” (verse 10)
And I remember, again, His promises are for me.

I have coffee with a friend later in the week, and I share these thoughts, these Truths, with her. We both find ourselves with tears about to spill over.
No, certainly I am not the only one longing for He who makes all things new.

Relationships are broken and in constant need of repair. Bodies are fragile and hurt. I don’t even know how to pray as I should. And yet, He promises faithfulness.

So, on this last day of the year, I stand ready to move forward, eyes fixed, and yet, echoing those last lines of Revelation,
Amen, come quickly, Lord Jesus.
The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all.
Amen.
And, He will.