My beloved is mine, and I am His (Song of Songs 2:16)
update 3.7 / Weeks 12-13
Hello again!
There’s a lot to be said about life lately. The weather’s getting warmer, a common cold almost took me out, last weekend I went to Oak Glen, etc. There’s actually not that much to be said about life lately, so I’ll leave it at that for now. I’d describe the past few days as the subjective experience of Hymn #284, Loved with everlasting love. More on that later.
In middle school, you sing the words to God’s eternal economy during your first Summer School of Truth and even though you don’t really know what it means, you enjoy it but never really think about it. In high school, you sing the words to God’s eternal economy and because you know a little more about who this God is you appreciate it a little more, but most of these things are still just words on a page. By this time you’ve heard the term “God’s economy” a few hundred times and you’re a little tired of it, but the tune of the song is pretty good so you don’t really mind singing it. In the training, you sing the words to God’s eternal economy and for some reason now you’re holding back tears. For some reason the words mean so much more. Tonight, you see God’s eternal economy. You see that all of this is to make man the same as He is. You see that all He wants is to make Himself one with man and man one with Him. The gentle voice that’s almost indiscernible reminds you that I want to be one with you, and it’s those words that make it impossible to move on.
God’s eternal economy is to make man the same as He is
in life and nature, but not in the Godhead,
and to make Himself one with man and man one with Him,
thus to be enlarged and expanded in His expression
that all His divine attributes may be expressed in human virtues.
So here I am, on a Thursday night at 11:28 pm, and I can't sleep because I can't stop thinking about the fact that the walls of the New Jerusalem are adorned with precious stones. I love this verse––“Coming to Him, a living stone, rejected by men but with God chosen and precious, you yourselves also, as living stones, are being built up as a spiritual house into a holy priesthood” (1 Pet. 2:4-5). This is God making us the same as He is, making us living stones as He is a living stone.
In the beginning of the Bible, what we see is the God of the universe being personally involved in the creation of man––stepping out of eternity and into time to stoop down and form man from the dust of the ground, shaping the clay as a potter would, breathing into his nostrils the breath that would give him life. What we see is a God who created man in His image, giving three parts––a body, a soul, and a spirit––to match Him as the Divine Trinity. What we see is a God who has a hidden longing in His heart. From “in the beginning” (Gen. 1:1), from “let there be light” (Gen. 1:3), from “Jehovah God formed man” (Gen. 2:7), God’s goal has always been the same.
God’s intention is to take this dust, to take this shapeless clay, and to lovingly form it into something worthy––to transform it little by little, slowly and gently infusing it with a higher and greater life. In the book of Revelation, the walls of the New Jerusalem are adorned with every precious stone (Rev. 21:19). But precious stones are not created. They’re transformed. We become living stones by coming to the One who is a living stone, and that’s how we go from men of dust and clay to precious stones. Somewhere between the Garden of Eden and the New Jerusalem, somewhere between eternity past and eternity future, somewhere between predestination and glorification, we’re being transformed. Time was created for this purpose, the universe was created for this purpose, and we were created for this purpose. Everything is for this. It’s hard for me to comprehend sometimes because all I know are my 23 years of being alive, but from eternity past this has been the one thing on God’s heart. He’s been waiting for this, and He’s been waiting for me to be willing to cooperate with Him.
Some of the sixth graders got baptized on Sunday, and they sang this song to us. Maybe it seems a little melodramatic, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently.
oh my life of misery,
in this world of vanity,
as I searched for happiness,
my reward I received––just emptiness.
My teammates are helping baptize one of the boys and he’s repeating after one of them because he’s too nervous to pray by himself, and he repeats “now my life will never be the same.” I don't know if he realizes it yet, and I don't even know when I realized it myself, but it’s true. Once you have Him, once you know Him, life will never be the same. In the training I do all the same things I would do before, but all these things are ever-so-slightly different now. As I fold my blankets at the crack of dawn the Lord reminds me that He wants to spend this day with me, so suddenly instead of wallowing in how I’m so tired I’m asking Him to fold these blankets with me. I used to make my bed every morning before the training too, so it’s seemingly not that groundbreaking, and in an outward sense nothing much has changed, but life simply cannot be the same as it was before. When you know Him, there’s this inward reservation that God wants to be mingled more with me that begins to underscore everything that you do.
Last weekend I spent approximately 21 hours in Oak Glen with some other teams in my cluster, and what’s really stuck with me since then is that when you know Him, the whole world changes. At some point we sing Hymn #431 and I realize how real that is. My God, Thy gentleness hath conquered me; life cannot be as it hath hither been.
God was far away from me,
yet You took on humanity; You came for me.
that’s why I love Him.
that’s why I treasure Him.
that’s why I give my life and all to Him.
God was far away from me, but He took on humanity for me. He came for me, and that’s why life can never be the same. God became man, but He didn’t stop there. He’s making man God in life and in nature, but not in the Godhead. He’s making Himself one with man and man one with Him. That’s God's economy. That’s why I can love Him whom I have not seen (1 Pet. 1:8). In the training, you sing the words to God's eternal economy and you’re holding back tears because you’ve seen the slightest glimpse of what all of this is for. It’s not objective anymore, so it means so much more. It’s not lifeless words on a page, because the Spirit inscribing these things into your inner being. It’s not empty recitation that GodbecamemantomakemanGod, but an intrinsic realization that God became man to make man God. And now, life can never be the same.
On Monday morning I sat at the base of this mountain for like 45 minutes just to linger here, still seeking after Thee. There’s so much to tell the Lord and such little time, but for some reason that morning all I could do was call on His name over and over again––without expectation, without intention, and without motive. It’s like breathing, only what you receive is literally everything that God is. As I sat there, all I could do was call upon Him breath by breath. The verse that came up was Song of Songs 3:4––“When I found him whom my soul loves; I held him and would not let go.”
heaven above is softer blue,
earth around is sweeter green;
something lives in every hue
Christless eyes have never seen:
birds with gladder songs overflow,
flowers with deeper beauties shine,
since I know, as now I know,
I am His, and He is mine.
Maybe it’s because there’s something special about being up in the mountains, or maybe it’s because I spent a few sick days in the confinement of Grace Gardens, but as I sat there with the Lord it really felt like everything was different. It’s not that our believing is accompanied by a pair of rose-colored glasses, but that there’s a certain kind of peace and calm that can only be found in Him––one that comes with this realization that I am His, and He is mine. It’s not about the outward environment, but that “My beloved is mine, and I am His” (Song of Songs 2:16). It doesn't really matter whether I'm at the foothills of a mountain or at the 7-11 on the corner of Brookhurst and Ball, because I am His, and He is mine. And once I find Him, I can hold Him and not let go. Maybe I don't get the answer to all of life’s most burning questions, but at a certain point none of that matters because I have found Him whom my soul loves! And not only that, but I am His… and guess what… He is mine :-)
At Oak Glen we sang Hymn #284, and I feel like I could have sat in that little room for hours singing those four stanzas over and over and over again. If that’s a foretaste of eternity, I'm all in. Oh, to lie forever here, doubt and care and self resign, while He whispers in my ear: I am His, and He is mine. Even at the end of week thirteen, things that once were wild alarms cannot now disturb my rest. Despite how I feel, even though heaven and earth may fade and flee, I am His and He is mine.
Not much is new. Life moves at the speed of life. Things are good. Bye for now!
Until next time,
Chloe