for every furnace...

i originally posted the following thoughts on google+, but thought i'd share them here as well...
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there are things for us to learn about ourselves and about God that we can only learn in places of hopelessness. we have become averse to the dark moments on our journey because of the truths to which they bear witness. we have become so enamored, so convinced of our potential, our ability, we forget our life in him begins in death, and the resurrection to which he invites us begins at a place of (repeated) mortification.

we have become those who don't want to talk about where we come from, though where we come from is inextricably tied to where we are going. our journey began in the valley of dry bones, in Lazarus' grave, in the borrowed garden tomb in which Jesus was placed. our victory begins in defeat, our bright shining light is berthed in the song-less night of despair.

it stands to reason, then, that we should not hurry past the moments, the seasons, of darkness in our lives now. we ought not flee our hopelessness, or worse, deny it. we should, i think, embrace it, and ask Jesus to meet us there. in so doing, we give him the opportunity to remind us that our inability to change an impossible situation, cure a terminal illness, or cross an impassable sea, is not the end of the story.  here him tell you, tell me, that for every desert there is manna, for every sea, dry land underfoot, and for every furnace, there is one walking with you, whose face is like the Son of God.

in our hopelessness, in our inability, in our daily death, let us remember that we have been buried with him, yes.  but also, with him, raised up anew...