There it is again. I feel it rising up from somewhere deep inside. It is difficult to describe, but there it is all the same. I want it to have a name. Somehow that will make it seem safe and predictable, possibly even controllable. However, it is anything but safe and predictable, most certainly not controllable. It is pressure that builds and needs a release; a cry from the deep that can only be satisfied by an answering calm, a gentling of the urgency; a whispered word, saying “Peace, be still child; how very close I am to you.” It is birthed in quiet moments of meditation and worship, where time ceases to exist and I know I have Your undivided attention. It is a place where my voice, my love and the groaning of Your Spirit, mix and intertwine in the Heavenlies, bringing delight to Your heart; setting into motion things I could never comprehend. It is so beautiful, yet not safe and certainly not predictable; uncontrollable. This it comes surging up as I fall to my knees in awe of all that You are; knowing that the small bit I know of You is almost more than I can bear. To know that there is more, that You are richer and more brilliant than my most vivid dreams frightens me, because that, too, is not safe, is not predictable and cannot be contained. No, it is holy, a consuming fire, pure and wild; it’s more fierce and passionate than I can handle on my own.
At times, it swells up when my fingers finally release their death grip on what I knew all along I could never control or hold onto, yet almost died in the trying. I hear it in the sound of chains falling and walls crumbling, as another stronghold tumbles to the ground; the scent of victory overcoming the stench of defeat. It comes as a wave, a pounding of the heart, as Your anointing falls when obedience calls and is answered with “Yes Lord, here I am.” It is there when the howling loneliness calls out for filling, clawing in desperation until Your presence is given permission to enfold and permeate the void. I sense it’s presence when joy unspeakable and peace that passes all understanding snaps like a banner in the wind, high above the circumstances and distractions of life, proclaiming that Jehovah Nissi is my covering and victory, shielding me with love.
As I wait in Your presence, I am beginning to understand what it is. It is desire for You so indescribable it hurts, a needy emptiness that can only be filled by all that You are. It is the craving my spirit discerns can only be satisfied when I am forever in Your presence for all eternity. It is an obsession that keeps me hungry and thirsty for revelation and wisdom; for truth and a startling intimacy found only with You. No, it isn’t safe or predictable; it’s certainly not controllable, but I know it will be with me until I see You face to face. I am learning to love it, not fear it, to embrace the wildness and fierceness of it. I will welcome it with open arms and tender heart. Its name is yearning.
Extravagant Hope 