The comfort of consolation...

When I went to take the recycling to bin a few minutes ago, I struggled to breathe in the cold air.  I had not thought the temperature was low enough yet to worry about that asthma trigger, but I think that having the cold has made me more susceptible.  I admit that I find it rather dweeby to walk outside with a scarf wrapped around my face so that I can breathe.  So, I rarely do.  However, tonight, it felt like knives were stabbing me each time I tried to draw a breath.  I wish the snow had at least remained.

Amos, well, he objected to the cold grass.  He's added cold to his list of objections.  Dry grass.  Wet grass.  Leaf-covered grass.  Cold grass.  So, he spent quite a bit of time tip-toeing around the brick edging of the beds until he found a spot to hang his backside over the grass.  All four paws on the same brick whilst conducting his business and my puppy dog avoided a face plant.  His fears are impelling him to acquire interesting skills.

My pastor came to visit today.  To bring the Gospel.  And the Word of Absolution.  I think that I might have been better at speaking clearly of my anguish and fears.  He very clearly has upped his listening game.  He brought me a bit written about faith to parse together, read Matthew to me, sang to me, prayed for me, read a psalm to me, read to me from Gerhard's Handbook of Consolations, and talked to me about my spiritual fears. Not in that order, but all of those good things God gifted me.

Having such rich thoughts to ponder, I decided to plumb the depths of cookie mix wickedness.  If you would like to do so, too, I would highly recommend that you buy a box of Pillsbury Carmel Apple cookie mix and a bag of Kraft's Caramel bits.  Once you have beaten the egg, butter, and mix into cookie dough, add half the bag of caramel bits.  Bake.  Try not to eat too many in one sitting.

"What rich thoughts are you pondering, Myrtle?"

"Well, sometimes I am fearful of reading things, so I have not read the consolations.  The one my pastor read seems to have been written just for me.  And has this thought about not losing faith in sleep that is a bit of a spiritual lifeline to me."

19.

QUESTIONING THE PRESENCE OF FAITH

       TEMPTED.  Not only is my faith weak, but there are times when I feel no faith in my heart at all.  Nor do I call upon God with the intensity of spirit that is able to penetrate the clouds.  I fear, therefore, that my faith has indeed perished and is utterly extinct.  If my faith is extinct, what hope or salvation shall remain for me?  I examine myself (2 Cor 13:5) and, behold, I feel no faith in my heart. Among the reprobate, therefore, shall I be numbered.

       COMFORTER.  At such times as these, the Spirit helps us in our weakness and places His hand, as it were under us, for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words (Rom 8:26).  There are times when we know not what or how we believe, but the Spirit fosters and preserves faith in our heart.  Just as a spark may lie hidden under the still ashes and not appear to us outwardly, so too faith may at times dwell in the inmost recesses of the heart and, like that spark, not be perceived by us. Although you feel no faith, do not conclude that your faith is wholly dead and extinct when you yearn, groan, and will believe.  That yearning, groaning, and willing proceeds from faith.
       Moreover, it is one thing not to feel faith and another to be altogether unwilling to believe.  The former is a sign of lament and the latter of stubborn pride.  Truly, Christ dwells in your heart through faith, even if you do not clearly feel that indwelling of grace (Eph 3:17).  Likewise the Holy Spirit, that internal comforter, has a holy habitation in your heart, even though there are times when it feels that He has withdrawn such consolation from you.  As Abraham, the father of those who believe, believed in hope against hope (Rom 4:18), so you ought to trust in the Word rather than your feelings.  Just as we must take every thought captive in the obedience of faith (2 Cor 10:5), so also you must take captive unconscious faith by faith.  That is to say, receive the Word into your heart and steadfastly cling to it.
       The seed lies hidden and concealed under the sod of the earth, even though it does not as yet protrude with even the smallest evidence of growth. Similarly, the seed of faith lies hidden in the heart, even when its fruit does not as yet appear plainly and abundantly.  When you sleep, you do not feel your faith.  But who would argue that faith has perished at such times?  So in this temptation our soul is oppressed, as it were, with a certain sleep.  Although you feel little movement of your faith, do not, for this reason, think the faith you so long for is extinct.