A few weeks ago, I sat crossed-legged on my balcony, oatmeal and coffee in hand, looking for Him. In the haze of the city’s morning light, I thought of how close 2016 was and what word He might give for it. The thought was passing, the feeling fleeting. But then, an answer arose. He spoke.
As I prayed, read some in His word and in Streams in the Desert, I cried a lot of tears. But out of that arose a word. A word I heard a lot sprinkled throughout 2014. Hannah Brencher’s words have scattered it like glitter in my heart. I’ve written on it as well, similarly craving its spark and shine in my day-to-day. It’s a word that has since faded; refusing to enter my mind ever since “banner” came up, ever since “trust” stirred in me “like a sleeping giant,” as I wrote on January 1st, 2015.
But that day. It returned to me. Full of promise, full of hope, in the midst of a morning where I could not stop crying. At all. The tears were unending. But He met me in the middle of them. He caught them all in His bottle, then whispered over the contents, making them an anointing of sorts, whispering of what He would do with each one…
“This coming year will be GOLD. A golden year. This banner will remain, waving, waving, waving in the wind. Over the testing. Over the trials that still await. ‘But when He has tried me, I shall come forth as gold.’”
That comes from Job 23.10-following, the entirety of which says,
“But He knows the way that I take;
when He has tried me, I shall come out as gold.
My foot has held fast to His steps;
I have kept His way and have not turned aside.
I have not departed from the commandment of His lips;
I have treasured the words of His mouth more than my portion of food.
But He is unchangeable, and who can turn Him back?
What He desires, that He does.
For He will complete what He appoints for me,
and many such things are in His mind.
Therefore I am terrified at His presence;
when I consider, I am in dread of Him.
God has made my heart faint;
the Almighty has terrified me;
yet I am not silenced because of the darkness,
nor because thick darkness covers my face.”
I expected that to be it. But He kept speaking. I rediscovered words from my Exodus Journey–the completed project of 2015–as I typed out the words I had penned on chapters 25-27. I discovered in those days–days before He spoke this word– the beauty of His dwelling place:
There is so much glittering gold on every surface in this place, because it is the purest, most beautiful element with which to crown His presence among us.
So let us, too, seek the same purity and refinement like the gold that gleams under the light of His presence.
He keeps bringing up these words, old and new, to speak over 2016. He keeps speaking.
After Exodus, I expected to “stay in the wilderness,” to continue in that story. Instead, He brought me to a book to mine out this gold in, mingling with it another word—wisdom. “Wisdom & gold,” He whispered as He beckoned me to study a book I rarely ever want to read anything from, let alone sit with and study through—Proverbs. And He began to speak of adorning. treasuring. seeking out.
All of this is speaking a word better than gold. A word of One better than wisdom.
It is He that I am seeking. Him that I want.
He is my wisdom.
He is my gold.
And this year, He’s calling for more. He’s calling out of these deeper places, beckoning more to be brought out and more to be brought in.
I asked for a poem to capture this, and He gave it immediately:
He’s looking into the deeper places,
calling gold the rusting treasures,
naming wisdom in the hidden places
that I’ve let no one see.
He’s inviting Himself in,
breaking down the doors I barred,
calling gold the rusting treasures,
naming wisdom in the hidden places
that I’ve been hiding.
And He’s singing—
of course He’s singing—
this God who delights in me,
who quiets me by His love,
and pierces my silence with a song.
He’s singing a song for me,
a song I’m meant to sing:
“You uphold me.
You know me.
Abundance is coming.”
And I’m awestruck, overwhelmed
by all the words I’m hearing,
calling into existence the very things I’ve denied.
And I’m dumbstruck, silenced
by all His words over me,
beckoning my voice to join its familiar harmony.
I’m remembering the deeper places,
the communion that called me out
from darkness to light,
from blindness to sight,
from silence to songs—
even songs in the night.
I’m remembering the deeper places,
the refining that calls me still further in,
from light to light,
from strength to strength,
from glory to glory—
glory in the growth He gives.
He spoke again, on the last sunday of 2015:
Gold must be mined for. It must be searched after. It must be found. Discovered. It is hidden in the deep places. It is covered by other rock. So much must be broken up in order for the gold to be harvested. And that is just the first step of the journey: Mining. Discovery. But there is no fools’ gold with our gold. There is no false hope or pretend expectation or unfounded confidence in Him. There is only truth. There is only reality.
There is so much more reality than we realize. Our circumstances cloud the chance to find Him in the midst of it all—the One walking on the water of the stormy sea. the One leaving the flock to find us as we wander. the One bearing all our sorrows and griefs. the One counting each tear. This is more real. He is more real.
“Dig for the gold, Daughter. Dig for Me.”
Let’s dig together, friends. Let’s go deeper with Him this year. There’s gold to be found, gold to be had, gold to be made into, gold to be made like. And let’s not lose Him in our quest, for He is our gold. As a friend said to me, “I could spend most days looking for the golden moment ahead of me, when the gold is already in front of me.” He’s with us. He’s here. Closer than we’ve let ourselves feel. So let’s not resolve to “be better” about seeking Him; let’s resolve to let Him nearer, nearer still.
