Deeper still
ezekiel 47
As the man went Eastwood with a measuring line in his hand, he measured off a thousand cubits and then led me through water that was ankle deep. He measured off another thousand cubits and led me through water that was knee-deep. He measured off another thousand cubits and led me through water that was up to the waist.
When I was living in Cambodia a few years back, after being pretty ill, i’d finally gathered enough strength to go out the house and decided to venture to a coffee shop, the only problem was I’d ventured there via push bike, a push bike the landlord had left us with in which there were no lights, the front tyre completely flat and the bike stand continually down.
Half an hour or so into being in the coffee shop, the rains came. When I say the rains came, I mean the rains CAME. Within an hour or so, the guards were ankle deep in water, buckets were placed all over the shop to catch stray drips, and people were at the windows documenting the scene. Three hours later, the rains were still falling and so was the evening, and my options were not looking great at all. Using a push bike on a Cambodian road is a stupid enough idea on it’s own without there being flooding and a lack of light too. I was praying for wisdom when soon the rains lifted, and from what I could see out the window the water looked to have reduced dramatically.
I soon discovered however, that the rain had only dispersed itself to other areas of the city and cars, motos and people were piled up at junctions and in the denser back streets of Phnom Penh, attempting to make their way home with little avail.
That very morning, before leaving the house I had told Jesus how tame I was feeling after days on end in bed, and had asked Him for an adventure. I laughed.
At first, even though ankle deep, I was able to bike through the waters. But soon, in an attempt to escape traffic, and dodge some of the worst affected areas, I found myself in one of the worst affected areas with NO one else around just a mass expanse of water. The water in this area had become so deep that I could no longer ride my bike, it was darK, almost pitch black in fact, and I had no idea where I was. Coming to what without the water must have been a junction, I looked to my left and saw far far into the distance car lights. Taking the left I started wading through the water pushing the bike. Though I didn’t know where I was, I knew that I must be near ‘stink river’, as it is coined, the sewage disposal river of Phnom Penh. Not only was I pushing my bike against a flow of water, but against the teeming flow of sewage and trash. I had my laptop on my back, and with the water now being waist deep I had to push the bike with my back bent to make sure my bag didn’t touch the water and on my head I was wearing a heavy duty motorcycle helmet. Every now and then I had to get out my phone light to look at shop signs around me to know if I was anywhere I recognised and to make sure there was no animals in the water with me. I remember laughing hysterically, amidst praying in tongues, as I stumbled and fell down pot holes, and as my bike stand got caught on every rut in the road as I dragged it along. At each house I passed, each one haphazardly slapped together with wooden planks, I peered in, to see families gathered on the highest ledges, waiting for the flood to evade their houses so they could return to the ground. And I smiled and introduced myself as they looked on baffled that a) there was a white girl saying hi b) she was in the middle of a flood c) she was wearing a heavy duty bike helmet and d) everything else. I hit the road about 25 minutes later, got my bearings, got laughed at some more and biked home, with the rungs of the wheels carrying about 10% of stink river, and I lived to tell the tale.
And I was reminded of Ezekiel, though the waters he was found in were altogether different. I don’t know whether he expected to find himself in the waters flowing from the threshold of the temple. Healing waters that brought life wherever they flowed. Waters that caused fruit never to fail, and fruit continually in season.
These past months, I guess they’ve seemed pretty ‘normal’, yet He’s been teaching me that they appear normal, because He’s expanding what I deem to be normal as He’s taking me deeper. It’s because the things that used to satisfy no longer do. He’s increasing my hunger. See, He’s the God who gives the hunger, and also produces the means in which to satisfy the hunger. If we don’t hunger we can’t mature, if we don’t hunger, we’re saying we’re okay with where we’re at.
Hungering for more doesn’t mean the miracles lose their wonder or we are saying we’re not content with where we’re at. We simply learn to love the possibility of hte impossible. Knowing He dares us to go bigger and dare greater. To sumberge ourselves in the waters.
We’re created to live submerged. The place where there is perfect communion between our spirit and all dimensions of God’s presence. We’re not called to a life where a mere toe is dipped in. Dipping a toe in means you can sure enough take it back out again. We need to get to a place where we are drowned, where we’re in over our heads. We need to get to a place where we understand we cannot live outside of the waters of life, and neither do we want to.
Being submerged is surrender. Surrendering my hopes, plans my dates in the diary, my scheming. Losing a grip on everything, hands held high in surrender. It’s when we’re submerged that our cries become the ones of laid-down lovers straight from the heart of God. We find ourselves in the position for us He always intended, abnormal continually becoming normal. What once appears as danger becomes our desire, as He ever accustoms us to the realm we were truly built for.
THERE IS always MORE. It’s deeper still Jesus and then deeper still. He is never done with us. There is always progression with Him, we don’t suddenly reach a point of plateau in the Kingdom, it’s the ongoing great adventure.
How yielded do we want to be? It’s never about how much He desires to be with us, because Child He is waiting, He wants us, 100% of the time. It’s how much do we want to be with Him.
“‘He measured off another thousand, but now it was a river that I could not cross because the water had risen and was deep enough to swim in- a river that no one could cross.”
I don’t believe our hopes and dreams should ever be rivers that we think we can cross on our own. See many people get to the point where they realise they can’t cross and stop. Yet, this is the very place we should be! The very place He wants us. Living in the place of impossibility. If you think you can do something, if you have dreams you think you can achieve, they’re probably not big enough. I don’t want to function or remain inside of limitations that are humanely possible. I want to live within an ever expanding threshold, where my tent pegs daily widen to the realm of impossibility.
The more we risk, the more we realise how much more there is to give. The more we are pushed to count the cost less, and surrender more of who we are.
It’s the yieldedness of the ‘yes’ that is so precious to Him. ‘Yes I will go, Lord’ ‘Yes, Lord, send me’. ‘Yes Lord, What more can I give’.
If you want impossibility to come into your life, start by fashioning a grid for it. Start by silencing the rational and giving yourself over to the hope of the impossible. Child, he wants to take you deeper if you would only be willing to be led.
The gain of the river is greater than you will know, in it’s wake lies the healing, and the restoration, and the abundance you had always longed for if only you would dive in.