How much is God on our side? How much can we trust Him, I mean, to be our comforter and provider? I often think of it as our being on His side, not He on ours (He is, after all, God!), but when it comes to mercy, we need Him to come to us. But how can He? Are we not too ungodly for Him to come near? And then we cannot receive Him when He does come, as the Savior and the Lover He’s promised to be for us. But does He come near? Is He really that accessible?
When Jesus showed up in the flesh, John the Baptist warned those who came to see him to “repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near.” It was not, notice, “Repent so that the kingdom can come near,” for it — He — was already close by! It was, rather, a warning to change their mind about things so that they could receive the kingdom.
I think this is where many Christians find themselves now. The longer we wallow in the “Woe is me. I cannot enjoy the life of God because I am unclean,” the longer we cannot, indeed, enjoy the life of God — not because we are unclean but rather because we are unbelieving. For not only is the Lord God the Life we need (the justice and mercy, the love, the connection), He is also the Water to wash us clean, ther tears of mercy weeping to wash over us. Woe is me, for sure, if I had only my means to reach the Lord God!
But He is more for us than we must think. This is the secret depth of His great love shown for us at the cross, in the death of Jesus. He stood in for us! We repent when we simply embrace that so that we can embrace Him. Then we begin living in this kingdom, in the reign of the King Jesus, with full and complete access into His presence. That’s why we can come boldly into His throneroom, because our failure and shortcomings are no longer an issue between us and God — at all. He has come, bringing the Kingdom of God along with Him in the train of His robe.
There is so much deep, bewildering, astounding truth here that to grasp it in its fullness could kill a man by the sheer ecstasy that would follow, by the unspeakably beautiful grace. It’s like Moses seeing the back side of God. Any more revelation and he would die.
Perhaps that is why I am slow to grasp even the most elementary of God’s provisions for me. Maybe I must go it slowly, with He controlling the locks of the dam of His greatness and glory. I have asked many times — begging on my knees — that He would release His full revelation to me. Perhaps it is mercy that stays the flood. And, perhaps it is persistence that will find me in the deepest end of it, conquered and overtaken.
I think that would be a cool way to die. Someone finds my bloated, drowned body. They notice a curious and out-of-place smile frozen on my face, and my eyes are stuck wide-open. “Poor fool” is repeated again and again by those attending the funeral service, by the same who did not understand when I was alive what it was I was running after. More true than they realize would be their comment, “He fell of the deep end.” The simple phrase on my tombstone would tell all: “He cried out for rain all his life. In the end, he got what he wanted, for ‘what the righteous desire will be granted’ (Proverbs 10:24).”
Righteous, not by my own merit, but because I embraced what Jesus has done for me, and entered into the kingdom at hand.
