Thankfulness for the Lack

Sometimes the things Jesus says are baffling. Jesus had just been preaching to a city that didn't respond. A city that didn't care. A city he condemned to Hell. And here comes the crazy part. After this frustration of non responsiveness. After watching the tragedy of people He came to save turn away when He offered himself, he prayed. But he didn't say, "God, why?" He said this: "I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding...yes, Father, this was your precious will." What? Thank you that these people didn't accept my love, Thank you that all the work I just did went by the wayside.
That right there, is a hard prayer.
Coming off a week of camp where I didn't get much response, this passage is hurting my head. Because it broke my heart to see no hunger in my campers for the word of God, it was frustrating when they talked and giggled their way through my devotion that I spent time and thoughts on. And that's what Jesus had to feel. He watched the people he loved on, the people he spent time with, the people he dedicated his ministry to, he watched them turn away. He knew his message was the only one to save, yet he watched them turn away, and he let them. Because he loved them. Wrap your head around that one. I was given these girls for the course of one week, to serve, to love on, and to disciple. And this week, service was hard, love wasn't returned and I watched them build walls against the discipleship I offered. And if I want to be like Jesus. I need to offer thanksgiving in the lack, because I can't see the completion of the promise offered, just as Abraham didn't see his nation. Maybe, the Spirit used my words to plant seeds, or they will be remembered in the years to come. Maybe it was just a carrying out of the summer theme verse. "I will boast in my weaknesses so that Christ's power my rest on me." Because as always, I tried to be strong in my power, yet through that, Christ worked in my weakness of a desire for control. Whatever the reason, it was for the glory of God. And maybe there was so much more than met the eye.
So I will aim to be like Jesus and thank him for the lack. Even if it is a hard prayer, even if it hurts to let go of the control.
God's faithfulness is fantastic, because through the crazy week, I didn't take much time to step back and reflect. It's a go, go, go experience. We've got to be here, I've got to change my devotional for tonight, the one I planned doesn't apply, I've got to do, and most importantly I've got to sleep. But now, at home, stepping back, I've realized what God was trying to teach me. The campers were never mine. It was never my role to save them, or change them. That is something God does in His awesome power. I also think he was trying to teach me the importance of rest. Friday morning I got sick so I was counselor down for the count, and I took 3 much needed naps, had time to breathe and fellowship with fellow staff. It was sad, not being about to interact with my campers for a few hours, but I think he was continually showing me these girls were His, not mine, he loved them, and he had plans for them and he didn't need me in order to fulfill them. And he loved me, and he knew I needed rest, so he gave me that gift through my surrender of them to Him.
This morning in Sunday School we learned about building alters of thanks wherever we go. The teacher had us take a rock and build an alter after where we've seen God actively working recently. I realized that even though throughout the camp week, I didn't see God's hand in many things, I see it now. I'm thankful for the week he's given me, I'm thankful for the things I've learned and most importantly I'm thankful for the lack.
And I can sing the words of the hymn this morning in church honestly:

Great is thy faithfulness,

Great is thy faithfulness,

Great is thy faithfulness,

morning by morning new mercies I see.

All I have needed,

Thy hand hath provided.

Great is thy faithfulness.

Empty My Hands

Oh, how quickly I've forgotten.
Oh, how I've grown so restless and unsatisfied.
How often have I made it to the alter, ready to surrender my entire life and laid it down before you?
Yet all too rashly, snatching my favorite parts back because I love the feel of their touch to my thirsting heart and I fear I will never see them again. I love the joy they bring to my soul, the relief they bring to my life. And I take them back once again, so stealthily that I barely realize I've done it.
You look at my hands, overflowing with the gifts You've given to me, the gifts I've hoarded selfishly, the gifts I've forgotten to share and entrust back to the Giver. The things I hold all too tightly overflow and God, I've given you no room to hold my hand or my heart. You shake your head whispering "You've done it again, my precious child..." And like Hosea, you buy back your unfaithful bride you "allure me and bring me into the wilderness, you speak tenderly to me. You will remove the names of the [idols] from my mouth."
In love and utter faithfulness you allure me to you with the dissatisfaction of the meaninglessness of the daily, you put the unquenchable thirst in my soul, that can only be satisfied by You. I am the woman at the well, searching for meaning and acceptance and you tell me that You are the only Water that can satisfy, my idols will never suffice. The items I've built alters for, the people I've placed on pedestals, were blessings given from You. But I've loved them into idols, I've worshiped their existence in my life instead of the Savior who has given.
If only I would let go of the things I hold so dear, you could hold my hand and use these gifts to lead my back to your glory. My hands are full and it has emptied my heart. So, Lord, open my hands because I hold so tight, let me "taste and see that you are good." Because once I've tasted, I'm sure my hunger will be set ablaze again. I will be always searching, always wanting more of you. Let me have gratitude for the things you've done. Let me not be like the 9 lepers you healed, who turned their face without a simple 'thank you.' Let me be the remaining leper, who turned to praise you at my healing, and received an even deeper healing: salvation. Lord, I don't want to be just healed, I want to be saved. Lord, I don't want be be just saved, I want to be sanctified.
In gratitude, I remember what you have done, I thank for what you have given. In gratitude, I'm awed by the many times you've bought me back, the many times you've had to quench my spiritually dehydrated soul because again I've run, again I've searched for meaning in other things, again I've taken back my life.  In gratitude, I am the 10th leper who turned, knowing what you've done for me, asking for more than just healing, asking for You for forever. In gratitude, I will ask for more of You. Only You can satisfy.
The words of Tenth Avenue North could not have captured it better: "Oh, empty my hands, fill up my heart. Capture my mind with you."
Empty my hands.