Skip to main content

Bridges

I've been reading Leviticus using the app called Read The Word which is associated with The Bible Project. The animations are great, they help create a picture of what things looked like in Biblical times.

I don't have much to write at this moment, but I know that it must have been hard to keep the statutes laid out for the Israelites- truth be told, I have a problem understanding them, let alone following them.

God shows the Israelites how Holy He is. He tells them that He wants them holy too. Sin must be purged out from their midst. As I read those weighty chapters, I pictured myself amongst the Israelites listening to the words of Moses reading God's commandments.

Maybe I would have been attentive, taking detailed notes, or maybe I would be gazing into the wilderness wondering where this much talked about land of promise is. But I know for sure that I my heart would be heavy, weary and tired from wandering, wondering how I could possibly be holy as God had commanded.

You see, if I were there, it may have felt like this: the wilderness starts to look more vast, and the promised land seems more distant and I begin to get a sinking feeling. The burden of keeping these commands is heavy on me, and the ground beneath my feet struggles to hold me up. Now, there is water gushing through the cracks in the ground, collecting and morphing into stormy seas. The skies are grey and the waves are crashing hard. This promise land seems so unattainable and there is no way I can get there. It's all too much for me to bear.

"Come unto me all you labour and are heavy laden, Come find rest for your souls"

That's the first call I need. It's Jesus, God's Son, calling me to Himself to walk over the raging sea. He is here just at the right time to save me.

Jesus builds a bridge over the stormy waters to the promised land.


Psalm 32:6 Therefore, let all the godly pray to You while there is still time, that they may not drown in the floodwaters of judgement.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Cold Within

It's a cold day. Wrapped up warm, ready for bed, I was thinking about what my plans are for tomorrow. There's a lot of following-up to do from today, and the thought of the work waiting for me tomorrow almost sends me to sleep an hour before my scheduled bedtime. But I regularly do some reading before bed, and today, I have come across an article by Jon Bloom on Desiring God . It is about Robert Chapman, a relatively unknown leader, however, one of great reputation. His legacy of love was outstanding and Charles Spurgeon referred to him as the saintliest man he ever knew.  So what  does this have to do with being cold? I looked at my life after I read of his. I realised that although my intentions are to love like Jesus commanded ( John 13:34 ), I seldom go out of my way for others. Rarely do I choose the interests of others before mine ( Philippians 2;4 ). Slowly, in harsh conditions, the heart becomes a cold heart of stone. Age and experience have bred cynic...

Power

Carrying on from the previous post , this post is about where to get courage against despair. I am no counsellor or therapist; I write from personal experience. I have also come to learn from research that many share similar opinions as I do which have helped them as well.   Depression causes one to feel alone in the dark; the cloak of gloom never lifts and it traps you from seeing anything in life as good, enjoyable, dependable or worth it. For many, there is a heavy feeling of shame and worthlessness and that you have nothing to offer this world. It is really difficult to go through this nearly every day and some have tried to find freedom by ending their own lives. My interactions with people who have made suicide attempts have showed me that many regret the decision. I heard of one man who jumped off a bridge and survived. But his thoughts when he let go of the railings were “What have I done?”, “I don’t want to die”. Each of us have a fighting spirit that wants to live...

Prologue- Memoirs of A Skilled Hunter

Dawn was drawing close. The gentle breeze came as a consolation, symphatising with the wild for bearing with the downpour that befell the night. This time, the predator walked along an unusual path, the rays of sun bouncing off the shy green of wet leaves providing a source of illumination to its glowing eyes. It had spotted prey and now it was calculating the next move... I hadn't seen her in ages. I watched intently as she made her way towards me, her hips swinging graciously from side-to-side, her movement emphasized by the frills on her flowery gown, accentuating her hourglass figure. It's been 10 years since I last saw her and it seemed every part of her body, visible to my eyes, had been renovated in heaven time and time again. She had become much more attractive, she was beautiful. The predator studied its prey. Well-hidden by the shadows cast by the tall fruitless trees, it was being careful. Avoiding every broken b...