Come, Let us Return to the Lord

“Come, let us return to the Lord. He has torn us to pieces, but he will heal us; he has injured us, but he will bind up our wounds. After two days he will revive us; on the third day he will restore us that we might live in his presence. Let us acknowledge the Lord; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth.” -Hosea 6:1-3

Currently, I am sitting in my beautiful office, with a view of the mountains and the majestic towers of Valor listening to a calming Bon Iver. I live with my 2nd family, I have my dream job, and all thanks and glory to the God who ordained it. This was not my own doing, but as it stands, I am well acquainted with comfort.

And yet…surrounding me and engulfing my mind is sadness, discomfort, and hurt. I ache for those less fortunate than me, and my heart rages against the injustice. Why God? How much longer will you let this go on? This weekend has left me feeling numb…then totally not numb, angry and hopeless. An elementary school? The horror. And yet, so many children all over the world experience trauma just as devastating every day. How can this happen? How have we have gotten so far from Christ?  I am shaking my head in disbelief.

I am urged to do something about it; to stop this madness. To scream at God, and tell him that we can’t do this anymore and that he needs to come get us. We can’t do it, IT'S TIME JESUS! I want to cry and tell him to make it all stop. I want out. The pain is insurmountable, and the hurt is unbearable. Hearts are absolutely breaking all over the world. One of my favorite authors says it perfectly: “It’s all I can do. I’ve reached my threshold. I am begging for morning, praying for the dawn. I am truly in a season of Advent, waiting. Jesus, when are you going to come and make all things new? When will you redeem these losses and heal this land? When will children be safe? When are you coming? We are waiting, a groaning earth. We are aliens and strangers, reaching toward the kingdom, gasping. The hope torch is so heavy.

My only answer in the face of all this madness is Jesus. I literally have no other words, no better narrative. I believe Him. Just like He came the first time, in the margins, and the earth received her King, I know He is still here, ruling the world with truth and grace. I know He cares and He sees and He will be found. I know He is the light of the world, even though the night is so dark, so pitch black.”

Despite all of my longing and lofty ideas of how to redeem all of this, I cannot even fix myself…much less the rest of the world. I find myself helpless and broken at the feet of a holy God. I am part of this problem in the first place. I am reminded that, in itself, moral failure is not our biggest problem. Instead, the most hideous problem in the world is a failure to see God for who He really is. We get really messed up when we dont know who God is...and what He thinks of us.

My flesh and the enemy speak out that God must be perpetually displeased and disappointed with my feeble attempts at obedience. And yet, in the bible I find something totally and utterly different. Astoundingly different. GRACE. God’s mercy to sinners is not calculated and careful, it is lavish and outrageous.

It is baffling to me that after years of following this Jesus, who loves me with such persistence that it sometimes makes my head spin, that I can still lose sight of the offer he makes every day, every hour. The gospel that says “it is finished” and “come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.” I forget all too often. I forget that the gospel is for Christians; for me. That it was at my worst that Christ died for me. How is that possible? Outrageous grace, unending love; it makes no sense.

Yet, it’s true. It is true in the highest sense. Ephesians says:
“As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. BUT BECAUSE OF HIS GREAT LOVE FOR US, GOD, WHO IS RICH IN MERCY, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

God is so frustrating and awe-inspiring. The whole concept is just absolutely ludicrous. Undeserving acceptance, unrequited love, unending mercy and grace. This rails against everything that seems true. Today though, I choose to believe it.  Because it is our only hope.

An oh, do I feel the weight of my inability to make my heart completely submissive to Him. This morning, I am pleading with Jesus for a heart that loves Him rightly, claiming the blood of Jesus to cover my constant and overwhelming shortcomings. I feel this holy discontentment for where my life is, and where I want it to be. I want more of Him. More of the joy and peace that he offers. So with my failures and anger and confusion and frustration and tear-filled rage blackouts, I find myself re-reading Hosea 6. “Come let us return to the Lord…”

And so I will.