Whenever the stresses of life “distress” you, do you
fantasize an escape? A Caribbean cruise or European vacation? Or just a day
in the woods, or a walk on the beach? “From my distress I called upon the
LORD who answered me and set me in a large place” (Ps. 118:5). “Distress” refers to confinement (Ps.
4:1). Whether a jail cell or classroom; a difficult task or a challenging
relationship—it is the feeling of being pressed in, i.e., a ‘tight spot.’ In contrast, a
“large place” signifies the freedom of wide-open space.
Solomon said “God has put eternity in our hearts” (Eccl.
3:11). If time is the vestibule of eternity, it is
not surprising we feel confined in this narrow hallway called earth. If, as
A.W. Tozer says, the biggest thing in the universe is the human spirit, it is no
wonder we cannot be satisfied with such a small space.
Since 911, America has tried to find its place
in the world, and especially the Mideast. It has become Obama’s chance to establish his place in history, not unlike a
baseball star hoping to win a place in the Hall of Fame. I realize that finding one’s place
in the world is both the hope and bane of human existence. Men and women of
fame and success spend a lot of energy, and their fortunes,
cementing their place among men.
The author of Hebrews speaks, however, of anonymous Hall of Faith-ers who never found a place on earth, going “about in goatskins, destitute (men of whom the world was not worthy), wandering in
deserts, mountains, caves, and holes in the ground” (He. 11:38). They were homeless. To suggest we follow their example
may seem a bit severe. But didn't Jesus exhibit the same spirit of detachment, “the Son of Man has no place?”
Because we are inclined to attach ourselves to places on earth, God “un-places” us—an often painful uprooting that allows Him to root us in Christ (Col 2:7). Jesus says, “find your place in Me, and My Father
and I will come and make our place in you.” (John 14:23). Is there any other place you'd rather be?
Have you ever saved a place for your friend(s) in a crowded church service and felt uncomfortable because you knew there was a chance they might not show up, and the seats would be empty? But what if it was a concert your friend(s) had paid for? You would have no reservations about holding their places.
While on earth, Jesus never had a place, once telling an aspiring follower, “Foxes have dens to live in, and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head” (Matt. 8:20). Jesus knew His Father was holding His place in Heaven.
And to His disciples, He promised: “In My Father’s house are many dwelling places, and I'm going to prepare a place for you” (John 14:2). Ever since, all believers have treasured the truth that He has reserved our place in Heaven. It is prepaid and has our name on it (Eph. 1:20; 2:6; Col. 3:1). And without reservation, I can tell you there will be no empty seats in heaven.
"My thoughts are completely different from yours," says the LORD. "And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine. For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts” (Isa 55:8-9 NLT).
As I was reflecting on these verses, it occurred to me that God’s ways are not just different and higher, but smaller. There’s something about fallen humanity that worships “BIG” proportions!—and quality is often sacrificed at the altar of quantity—big is better. But in Deuteronomy, God says “The LORD did not choose you and lavish his love on you because you were larger or greater than other nations, for you were the smallest of all nations!” (7:7)
This “smaller is better” theme is played out many times in Israel’s history whenever they came up against large enemy armies—but nowhere is it more striking than in the story of Gideon. When it was time to go to war, he gathered 32,000 soldiers. But to make sure they wouldn’t credit the victory to their manpower, God reduced Gideon’s army to a meager 300. And you know the rest of the story.
Here is the principle: God must reduce your strength before He can give you His. “God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things which are strong” (1 Cor. 1:27).
One of my young friends is going through a ‘fiery ordeal,” explained by Peter as necessary “for your testing.” Peter reminds us to “not be surprised … as though some strange thing were happening to you” (1Pe 4:12). But it seems we often are taken by surprise, aren’t we! After I had counseled my young friend how to pray during his test, I realized I had forgotten to tell him this important thing: to pray for brokenness!
The story of the Hebrews’ arrival in Canaan illustrates the principle of brokenness. Before taking possession of the Promised Land, God required every man to be circumcised. Canaan represents our victorious life in Christ. Circumcision represents dependence on God. The cutting of the flesh symbolizes their death to natural strength. Likewise, before you can enter your “Canaan,” you must be “broken” of your self-life, allowing God to expose and cut out everything that remains of your natural strength and self-determination. Afterward, you will be ‘enlarged’ by your trial.
King David knew brokenness was God’s way of enlarging his life (Ps. 18:36; 119:32). Whenever you are about to break through to your “larger place,” God will need to cut deeply into the bone, tissue, and muscle of your pride, false confidence, and self-reliance. He loves you too much to let you go into Canaan with your natural weapons, for they would surely sabotage you, and bring about your defeat. Let God break you. Let God’s knife do its work. “For the word of God is full of living power. It is sharper than the sharpest knife, cutting deep into our innermost thoughts and desires. It exposes us for what we really are” (Hebrews 4:12).
