New Years’s Resolutions

“Therefore, behold, I will allure her, will bring her into the wilderness, and speak comfort to her. I will give her her vineyards from there, and the Valley of Trouble as a door of hope.” –Hosea 2:14

This is the prophetic promise that our church is entering into the new year believing, that 2008 will be a year of new beginnings, and that our Father has opened a door of hope in the place of our troubles. It speaks of being brought into the wilderness, and finding something unexpected but very precious there.

Philip asked me on the eve if I had any New Years resolutions, and I was surprised to realize that no, that perhaps for the first time, I don’t have any! I am as excited as I’ve ever been about the new year, and do believe with all my heart God has good things in store. 2007 has been a year in which I’ve observed many many people I dearly love dealing with great difficulties, certainly in places of trouble. It’s been a tough year, but not a bad one, because God has been in it.

I found myself thinking about another Scripture talking about the wilderness, and God seemed to speak strongly to me about it—Song of Solomon 8:5—“Who is this coming up out of the wilderness, leaning on her beloved?” The answer—“It’s me, oh, it’s me! I’m coming up out of the Valley of Trouble and I’m leaning on the one I love!”

Anybody who knows us knows how we love hiking in the mountains, going out into the wilderness. We venture out into the mountains with specific goals in mind, intending to conquer a peak, reach a specific destination, to return with great satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment, enjoying being able to tell the story and perhaps brag a little.

I’ve read many reports, however, of those who ventured forth with those same goals, but instead became lost, encountered unexpected storms, and found their great adventure turned into a nightmare. They end up wandering for days, without food and shelter, until finally a rescue party is sent out to bring them home.

I’ve often imagined, reading those stories, the emotions that must flood those people when they are found and realize they’ve been saved. Great joy, exhilaration, relief, but then perhaps, as they are led back to civilization and encounter their friends and families and other searchers, a little bit of sheepish embarrassment as they have to admit they needed help, they made mistakes and used bad judgment.

I know God sometimes sends us into the wilderness so we can learn to lean on him, to trust him completely. And that is what I want to do more than anything, to lean on my beloved, the one I love, to trust him implicitly, to acknowledge that he is my great rescuer and that without him I am lost–I flounder and wander aimlessly. This year I want to come out of all my wildernesses “leaning on the everlasting arms”, and I won’t be embarrassed or ashamed. And may all those with whom I’m walking through this life do the same!

Paul knew about leaning on God, and the extraordinary lengths it sometimes takes to learn to lean on him, to trust him with everything. “For we do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, of our trouble which came to us in Asia: that we were burdened beyond measure, above strength, so that we despaired even of life. Yes, we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead, who delivered us from so great a death, and does deliver us; in whom we trust that He will still deliver us.” (2 Corinthians 1:8-10)

Paul was in a wilderness, a place of great trouble, so great that he despaired even of life, yet the God who can cause all things to work together for good was teaching him a lesson that would bring the fruit of great peace to him throughout the remainder of his life.

And so perhaps that is my only resolution this year—to acknowledge that all my past resolutions have generally failed, and all I really need to do is totally lean on my Savior, to learn to cast all my cares upon him and no longer try to carry them myself, not to frantically try to find my way out of the forest, but to wait for my beloved to come and lead me through that doorway of hope into the bright sunlight of his plans and purposes for me.