rainbows

"When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth." Genesis 9:16

This is something God said to Noah after he had been through 40 days of flooding, 150 days of floating, and even more days of being capsized on the top of a mountain. When Noah finally came off the ark, family and zoo in tow, the very first thing he did is build an altar of praise and thanks to God. (I'm noticing this is a trend in biblical heroes - leaving a trail of altars everywhere they've been. They stop in their tracks, they build, they praise. I like that. I think I'd like to leave a trail of praise and thanks everywhere I've been too.) Anyway, then God said these very words to Noah: "When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant." 

Excuse me, but did GOD just say that when HE sees a rainbow HE remembers His OWN covenant with the people He HIMSELF created? 

WHAT?

Who is this gracious God? Who is this God who reminds HIMSELF of His own promise to keep holding out for us, to never wipe us out with a flood again? It blows me away that the rainbow is just as much a reminder to Him as it is to us. And when God says that every time He sees a rainbow He remembers His covenant with us, I believe Him. 

But that makes me think about all the times I've seen a rainbow and not thought about that covenant or my part in it. All the times that I've passed it by as just a pretty thing and not a sacred reminder – a tangible promise made to us by our Creator. And all those times I missed it, I know God was still being reminded. He was back in that moment with Noah, promising all over again to never give up on us. To never start over again. Goodness, 

OUR GOD IS FAITHFUL! 

Faithful to keep reminding Himself of His own covenant with us. To keep throwing rainbows up everywhere even though we miss it sometimes. To never give up on us. To always be there. 

This is the God we serve: the God who defines what faithful means by measuring above and beyond His own unattainable standard of consistency. By keeping His own promises. By doing every day what no one else can do for us. 

So, question: where is your faith small today? Do you fear He won't provide? Do you feel He doesn't care? Do think He doesn't see you? Do you not make time to give Him time? Do you believe He isn't good? Do you wonder if He's even real? Do you doubt that He's with you? Do you white knuckle the reins of your life, finances, relationships, or time? 

Maybe you should do what Noah did. Build an altar and look for the rainbow. God's made a promise. 

And He's not going anywhere.

letting go --

"You've brought me to the end of myself, and this has been the longest road." 

I had one of those moments this morning. The Lord brought me to the end of myself, and what I found there was a very tired girl with knuckles so white they were translucent. Apparently, I have  had* some unresolved control issues. 

"I'm letting go, falling into You." 

Some mornings, just as I've gotten my coffee, set my bunny rabbit (Howie) free in my room to happily destroy everything I own, and I'm starting to open my bible, I hear God say, "Go outside." By this time, I've gotten better at saying "yes." I used to say, "Wait, really? It's cold. It's dark. I'm in pajamas. And I'm pretty sure I'll never locate Howard and be able to get him back in his cage." Now I just say "yes." And I never regret it.

When I go outside on those mornings, I usually go to Murchison. The school has a hill that looks east over Austin. It's the perfect place to watch the sunrise slowly bathe the city in a new dawn. It was on the hill this morning that all my mess fell to the ground. 

"I confess I still get scared sometimes, but perfect Love comes rushing in." 

Standing there watching people run around the track below me, anticipating the moment the sun would crest over the horizon, I realized I'd been grasping some things. Little things. And it was making me tired. It was as illuminating a realization as the sunrise, because I had no clue I had control issues. Trust me, I know I have issues (I'm almost 24 and I have a bunny rabbit, so I'm well aware there are some screws loose in the ol' noggin.) 

But this morning, God so gently showed me that when I have doubts about things He has told me are sure, that's me holding on to control. When I have anxiety about the outcome of  certain situations in work or relationships, that's me holding on to control. When I have fear about the future, that's me holding on to control.

As Bethel Music's "Letting Go" was on repeat in my earbuds, I was reminded that when I hold on to stuff, I'm not experiencing the freedom of trust. Trust is stepping out onto water despite the size of the waves. Trust is not dwelling on outcomes despite the current murky circumstance. Trust is choosing joy and forbidding doubt to manifest. 

As I watched the sunrise this morning, I got to let go of the teeny, tiniest things and fall into Him. And I think releasing small things brings just as much freedom as releasing big things. Because, regardless of size, all the stuff we hold on to separates us from trust. And the freedom of falling into Him. 

So, next steps:

1. Listen to "Letting Go" by Bethel Music. Not only will it remind you of the glory to beheld in music reminiscent of the 80's, but the lyrics will encourage you. 

2. Take a big, deep breath, and let go of what you're trying to control. 

3. Experience FREEDOM in falling. Falling into Him.