To The Untamed Heart.

I don’t know where to start this exactly, so is it okay if we just dive right in? We’re going to start in the book of first fruits. The book of Genesis. There was a man named Terah. His son Haran died. He gathered his now fatherless grandson, Lot, as well as one of his remaining sons, Abram, and Abram’s wife, Sarai, and heads for the land of Canaan. But for some reason we are not made aware of, he doesn’t complete his journey. He stops short and plants his feet in a city called Haran. Again, I want to reiterate that the Bible doesn’t make it clear why Grandpa Terah stopped short and decided to move into the land of Haran with his son, daughter-in-law, and grandson. We know it wasn’t where he intended to stay. But do you want to know what I hear when I read a man who stops short of his destination to build a home in a land that happens to share a name with his deceased son? I hear a father who is stuck in his grief. So this is where they stayed. In remembrance of what was. In the land of Haran. Until Terah dies, and God speaks to Abram.

You are free! Go! It’s time to keep moving from where your father stalled. This is not the resting place I wanted to show you. This is not the promise. Follow me- lets go!

So Abram picks up everything and starts walking again. As the reader, it’s easy skimp on the emotional narrative. Because we have that third-person narrative. We have open eyes and a full perspective. But scoot in a bit, look at the nitty gritty, and you’ll see a man being stripped who is afraid to lose it all. He is, by definition, uncomfy.

-his brother died

-his father decided to pack up and head to the land of Canaan

-his dad makes a pit stop in a land that shares the same name with his brother and never leaves

-his dad dies

-God asks him to leave his second home and ‘trust him’

Up to this point, Abram has experienced a lot of loss. And all he knows is God is speaking to him and asking him to pack up and keep going- leave it all behind. Leave your father’s family. Leave your idols. Leave your traditions. Come to me.

We know Abram acquired many possessions. And that sounds nice and plushy, right? But when a famine struck the land- the land where God told him to go- and the land was not providing, more was definitely not merrier. To feed his people and his livestock, he had to go to Egypt, where he feared for his whole life- lying in order to live. Maybe it wasn’t necessary. In all reality it was probably not, because the Lord doesn’t place us in positions where we have to sin if we want to get to His plan. But Abram felt it in his gut. I’m sure you know the feeling. Something goes wrong and you can’t imagine it ever going right again.

Abram’s lie causes him to be kicked out of the land of Egypt, escorted to the border by security, losing all temporary comfort and feeling of direction. Then while they’re trying to figure things out, the final straw breaks. (spoiler alert: actually it’s not the final straw and the saga continues. but we’re going to rest here for a second) Here Lot is given the option to leave and take whatever land he wants. He does. And he takes the best looking land for himself. Leaving his uncle with little hope. And here is where we find Abram. Empty. Downtrodden. Staring at the ground. Hopeless and deserted.

“Lift your eyes, Abram.” Can’t you just imagine the situation? I see Abram sitting on a log. elbows on his knees, hunching over with his head in his hands. Examining the dirt in a seemingly desolate good-for-nothing land, glancing over to his barren wife who he had forced to lie for him and in turn marry another man. (If you can’t feel the tension in that you aren’t paying attention) And then a voice. The Father’s hand under his chin, lifting his gaze from the muck. Look at me. The Father meets him in the middle of hopelessness and promises him this is not the destination.

God doesn’t pick him up and magically transport him to a better place. He didn’t clear the land out of all the other inhabitants before he made it here. He still brought the famine. He didn’t take fear out of the equation, reaching into Abram’s inner being and pulling out all the pain, grief, and fear.

Abram’s walk was littered with fear and uncertainty. I want you to get that. I want you to squeeze every emotion out of this story that we can read if we look between the lines and read with our hearts. He was afraid. He had knots in his stomach. If I get to heaven and find out the man had a couple stomach ulcers I will say darn tootin, brother. The pressure was real. He was surrounded.

The story goes on and he has to go rescue Lot when he was captured as a prisoner of war. He and Sarai tried to fulfill the Lord’s promise on their own and get them some children through another women, causing bitterness and turmoil in their home and family. And it doesn’t stop here, friend. We tend to glamorize the little details and blow them up, the parts where the Bible says God talked to them, they saw him, he fought for them in battles, and performed miracles. Whatever it is- however he showed up- we just focus on that and make these biblical characters superheroes and we sweep away every ounce of humanity. Abraham was human. His life was difficult. And yes, the Lord met him in battle and gave him the victory but hear me out- he still had to go to battle. He was called into hard. Comfort wasn’t Abram’s story. Comfort isn’t supposed to be your story either, friend.

We weren’t made for cookie cutter stories- and believe me when I say this- you are a living story. Someday in heaven I believe the books are going to be opened and we’ll hear your story, too, just the same as we read Abraham’s now. Our God who bottles our tears, journalling our life stories. He loves us, friend. And that is exactly why He wants us to break out of our zones of comfort and lean into our actual comfort that lies within us at every turn- the Holy Spirit. The Father, meeting us in those difficult moments, lifting our chins. Look at me. Jesus, walking to meet us in the King’s Valley when we’ve waged war on the enemy and fought for what the Lord said was ours. Jesus, refreshing us communion on the other side of every battle. A couple days ago I felt the Lord stirring me to write this down:

“Our God is breaking the things we use to hold our comforts. He is breaking our comfort. He is asking us to go into the uncomfortable and the vulnerable and be received. Watch the harvest. It is ripe.”

Do you hear that? There is a whole harvest to be received outside our comfort zones. There are victories waiting for us to fight. There are miracles waiting for us to raise our voice. Are you ready to let go? Are you ready to go all in? There is no time left to waste. All creation is waiting. Talitha Koum. Rise up.