No Doubt Restrains

Music brings me to tears more often than anything else in this world. I have cried at the opening scores to movies. I have cried watching youtube videos. I have cried almost every week in church. I have cried in my car to the song on the radio. 

I did that today, actually. Hard day. My reality is beating down my heart. I'm tired of believing God will do a miracle. I'm weary of holding out hope. My trust is wavering. I'm doubting I can even hear the voice of God, let alone believe what He says. The powers that rage against me are having a heyday and my shield arm is numb, my sword hand clenched in pain. My soul is fearing a fatal blow. 

And then, this comes on the radio, sung by Natalie Grant's beautiful voice:

Give me eyes to see more of who you are,

May what I behold still my anxious heart,

Take what I have known and break it all apart,

For you my God are greater still.

No sky contains,

No doubt restrains, 

All you are,

The greatness of our God!

I spend my life to know,

and I'm far from close

to all you are,

The greatness of our God.

And I begin to cry. Really cry. Because I know, this is true. 

No doubt restrains... all You are... the greatness of our God... 

I am remembering something that happened recently, in which God proved to me that no amount of doubt I have will ever restrain His greatness. No amount. He is not limited by my doubt, or my fear, or my battle fatigue. Nothing restrains Him but Himself. 

One day last winter we shared prayer requests in a staff meeting at church. My prayer request was basically a churchified version of the second paragraph of this post. I'm going under. To my left, our Student Ministries pastor asked for prayer for his joints - ankles, knees, wrists, elbows. He's in his 30's, might have rheumatoid arthritis, in chronic pain, can't run, can hardly walk, and it's getting worse, seeing a specialist soon. Pray for healing. 

We took turns praying for each other. It fell to me to pray for him. This is what I wrote in my journal a few weeks later, reflecting on that event... 

Two weeks ago I prayed in personal anguish for someone else’s need. I could hardly pray that prayer, Lord, so weak was my faith. So overwhelmed with the cares of this life.  Literally, sinking. I felt completely inadequate and surely not strong in any way. Broken. I prayed through tears not shed for Chris’ need, but for my own needs.

Believe me now when I say this. God heard my prayer. He knew my brokenness. He saw my lack of faith. He was with me in my sinking... and He still completely healed Chris. 

The day after that meeting where I prayed through brokenness and tears, Chris awoke pain free and the pain has not returned since. As I write tonight, it's been four months, and he is still pain free. Running for exercise, even. I don't think he ever had to go see that specialist after all. 

No doubt restrains... 

God, you heard. Lord, my Jesus, you heard that prayer, and you answered it. You healed Chris. 

And I am undone by what this means to me. In my complete and utter brokenness, you heard my prayer and worked a miracle like one I have longed to see - really see - in this generation. 

Like in the book of Acts. 

It had nothing to do with me. 

And everything to do with me. 

No doubt restrains... 

God knows my heart has wanted for years and years to see people healed, to see broken lives made whole, to witness and be a part of the Greatness of our God. 

God knows how disillusioned I can get with piety and religion when so many people, myself included, are broken and in need of saving. Real saving. God-saving. 

God knows I am weary of trusting him. He knows I am about to loose hope. He knows I have no more faith that he will do through me what he said he would do through me. 

And so he reminds me... 

No doubt restrains...