Draw Near

Most often when the Lord speaks a word to me, it is in the quiet, when I have prepared my spirit, usually when I am praying, reading sacred scripture or other writings, or simply seeking Him and listening carefully. But several years ago the Lord spoke a word to me in an odd setting. It came in the chaos of Chuck E. Cheese, with wild children, noisy machines, and singing mice. I was trying to keep track of my little ones and looked toward the window. It was getting dark outside and a restaurant on the other side of the parking lot was lit up.  My eyes glanced over the flag of Texas and the word came into my spirit very clearly. "You are the lone star." Later I realized it was the name of the restaurant I had been looking at. It was such an odd word. I really didn´t know what He was saying or why He had given it to me. Over the years I alternated between pressing in for an understanding and trying to leave it by the wayside. But though He was silent, I always felt I should honor its significance. Maybe He was just waiting for me to look at the sky from here.
I’ve always loved the night sky from this perspective. The stars always feel out of place to me in the States. When I look at the stars here, they feel like they're back where they belong, and I can easily locate my favorite constellations. Now I have a new favorite. The Southern Cross is unmistakable here. There are five stars in it. I thought there were four, but we went to the science museum yesterday and there was a section on Brazil's two most famous constellations-- As Tres Marias e O Cruzeiro do Sul. And there it was, a cross with five stars.  It jumped out at me right away when we got to the beach. I sat on the balcony of our beach condo and lost myself in it at night. It felt a bit like it was healing my sky.
While I was looking at it, the Lord said, "The stars are closer here." It's true. Seems if I get up on my tippy toes I could almost touch them. And the sky always seems to have more stars here. Matt says it's because there's less light pollution, but I think there must be more to it than that.
Daren gave me a beautiful necklace for Christmas. It's a silver chain with a black pearl pendant that has two stars suspended over it. It's gorgeous. It felt like it carried meaning. So I began to pray again about the lone star wondering if the Lord would open up its meaning for me. After a few days, He did.
There have been a number of times I have glimpsed a partial understanding...none of which seemed to lock in fully. At one point I really felt like He was telling me He had put my diamond in the sky. The symbol of betrothal--my very own engagement ring from Heaven. Remember? "Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky." Isn't it the most beautiful thought? Other times I thought perhaps it meant I would be alone. But that always came with the sense that He cares for each of His stars. Being a star alone isn't all bad. I mean, when you can only see one star, it's usually because it's the brightest in the sky.
Now that I understand a bit more, neither of these thoughts were really off the mark, but I didn't really understand how it applied to me and what God was teaching me about Him.
It started to open up to me when I heard a Portuguese expression. The word is actually so (pronounced saw) and it means only. Brazilians use it colloquially to mean, there is no other like it. Nothing can compare. For example, when it comes to buying flip-flops (chinellos), so (only) Havianas.
I don't know about you, but I have a hard time with this concept. A friend once quipped to me about God, "He says I'm the apple of His eye, but I heard he said that to the girl next door too." I remember feeling conflicted. It sounded so wrong, but actually there is a whole lot of truth in the statement. There is this sense throughout Scripture that God has His favorites: Israel, of course, His chosen. Then there is the Beloved Disciple as well. How can God love each of us as His only Love?  But that is what He aludes to over and over again.  It is as if God wants to communicate to each one of us that He longs for me like He does for no other, that He wants me to belong to Him and be with Him in an intimate way like no one else. And I believe we were made with a corresponding need to respond to Him. We were made with the same longing for Him. The sense that there is this hole in our heart that only He can fill, this missing part that only He fits. This place of final rest that is home with Him. We have a need to be together with Him, it is where we truly belong. It's a picture of the deepest intimacy two beings can share and yet He feels that way toward each and every one of His sons and daughters. We are somehow each, to Him, the Lone Star.
That is so hard for me to wrap my head around. I can't possibly imagine feeling that way toward more than one person. I don't think we were made to do that, but because He is God, He can and He does.
A few days after I arrived here, I went book rummaging. I always look for the oldest most tattered ones first. (I love old books but sometimes my allergies don't.) I found one that looked promising--published in 1918. It's my Grandfather's. (He said I could keep it!) It's called To Be Near Unto God by Abraham Kryper. I found his words incredibly insightful. He likened God's love to us as a Mother to her child.
He says we are "his child in a special way, in a personal relation different from that of his other children, even the closest relation conceivable in heaven and on earth. He who has not entered into this can not understand it. It extends further than his reach...But to be Near Unto God means such nearness to God as to see him with the eyes, to be aware of his presence in the heart, to hear him with the ear, and to have every barrier removed that thus far kept him aloof. To Be Near Unto God means to be near him in one of two ways: either to feel as though we were caught up into heaven, or as though God had come down to us in our loneliness, sorrow, or joy. The very word "near" implies that there is much that separates us from God and makes us solitary. When God is far away from us and we from him, it makes us desolate. It also implies that we are not contented, that we cannot endure it; that our whole heart goes out after him and will not rest until the last barrier is removed. For only when God is near unto us and we are near unto him is there blessedness again, which nothing can exceed, since it is unspeakably good to Be Near Unto God. This exceeding blessedness can only be enjoyed in rare moments here, but in the life to come it shall endure. For in the Father's house above we shall be near unto God forever and forever."
This idea is beginning to work its way into my mind, but I have to be honest and say that right now my heart still feels very distant. I actually understand why, but I haven't quite found a way to fully heal. You see, the journey God has taken me on through the past couple years is one in which He has asked me to walk the love of Christ, the way of suffering, the path of the crucifixion. It's one He eventually asks all of His followers to walk. And so the focus of my heart was to sacrifice, to bear up under, to lay down my life. This was my path, my school. Sometimes I was a very willing student, other times I felt God took me beyond my strength, beyond the life in me and I felt almost dead, unable to participate. Almost like I lost myself in a black hole... or maybe a tomb.
The difficulty for me was not an unwillingness to love or even to suffer, but that I began to feel that though God could love through me, there was no love of God for me. I remember feeling so deeply the lack of God's calling someone to love me like He called me to love others. I began to feel like God Himself did not love me. I'd walked through so much loss and been asked to show love through so much rejection that my soul began to feel deeply grieved. I began to wonder why God never brought along that kind of love to me. I felt a tomb slowly forming its way around me, and found myself wondering if something went wrong on Good Friday. My capacity to feel loved by God was numbed. People would often come to me with a word and say, "Do you know how much God loves you?" "Do you know that you are special?" "Do you understand what that means?" I would nod as the hollow cave in my soul threatened to swallow me up. My head knew all the right verses, but my heart began to feel like the Lover of my Soul had forsaken me. I felt used.
The turning away of the Father's face--the experience of complete desolation and the loneliness of feeling fully parted from the Father for the first time--it is by far the most difficult leg of the path. I wonder if Jesus ever fully recovered. I'd bet there is still a scar somewhere on his heart. Maybe about the length of the tear through the temple curtain.
I think that's why God told me about the Lone Star. He knew that I needed to know from Him. I needed to be reassured. He knew that when the sky went dark the brightest light could still show the way home.
I know that He loves me. I have been told and shown time and time again. I actually believe it in my head most of the time. I know that I love Him too. Though I know that, I don't often feel it...yet. You know what else I know, though? The depth of pain that blocks that feeling tells me how deep a love it really is.
I know healing takes time--and there's a lot of time left in forever.
That's what they say about diamond's you know...they are forever. 

"It is good to draw near unto God."

Psalm 73:28

"Draw near to God and He will draw near to you."

James 4:8

Photo from this Website.

The Southern Cross is the 5 star constellation in the bottom right corner of the photo.