The Consumption of Crumbs- Genesis 25, 27

We were born into this fight, my brother Esau and I.

I look at the Scriptures and I see how it’s easier to crawl under the table and consume the crumbs than it is to stand and be seen and demand to be blessed in the hard place.

I sit down slowly across from God and I throw my burdens down on the table, all of them, and I point my finger and I demand a reckoning.

This is anger.

We keep giving God the pain of the present moment, but what He also wants are our hurts from the past.

The broken, tender and untouched places that we cover up.

Most anger has roots that go back to our first day on this wounded planet, when we were born into a disadvantage that was never ours to choose.

Ours is always second place, even when we are sure we will come out on top.

We hoard and protect our brokenness because it gives us great power- the power to beg, cry, weep, accuse and cover up our wounds with offense. The power to avoid healing.

Anger disguises our fear of being born into a 

starving world filled with lack.

We barter with our Creator for the crumbs from His table, when really, there is a place set for us right next to Him. But instead we crawl around on our hands and knees, weeping and asking for even a tiny remnant of our brothers’ blessings.

What we need to do is stand up, brush the dust off our knees, take a seat directly across from God, look Him straight in the eye, shake our finger and determine to be blessed in the broken place.  We need to slide our pain across the table and tell Him to take it all back.

He wants us to give our anger to Him, so that He can heal it.

So let’s get up off the ground where we consume the broken crumbs of lost dreams. It is time to toil and labor for a crop of well-worn, hard-learned wisdom.

This week I was reminded that the Bible is a complicated mess.

Confession- I am starting to fall in love with all the broken misfits in Scripture.

So far this year I have walked with Cain, Hagar, and Abraham’s servant. This week I had the privilege of meeting Esau.

His story is delicious.

Esau is one whose brother wronged him, deceived him, and took away the things that should have been his. Esau also made the terrible mistake of showing careless contempt for his own birthright. He threw it all away without realizing.

He was born into a world full of opposition and lies, where love is war.

Love is war.

And the temptation is to hate that brother whose abundance exposes our lack. And we stick around and scheme while desperately consuming the crumbs of others success.

Some of us are like Esau. We cry ““Oh God, give me one blessing to hold onto, just one. That’s all I ask now. Is there anything left of what I thought I wanted in this place? I’m starving.”

See, us God, here on our knees crying for leftovers. Begging for the opportunity that was never ours to have.

We are angry at You, God 

for putting this hunger in our heart.

We inherit the strife of our ancestors, the ones who snuck in through the backdoor of Scripture. The ones who aren’t qualified to be there. The ones who lose everything because of stupid mistakes and revealed unhealed brokenness.

God. These are my people.

And we did not ask for this- it was handed to us from birth. Ours is an inheritance of human flaws and failure. This is unfair.

God. I’m angry.

We demand a reckoning.

But if someone shows you who you really are, 

remember that they are probably right.

I stand in line with all the misfits of Scripture, my beloved messy ancestors. We are a broken race of image-bearers. Our stories are the ones that won’t get a place of honor. These are the stories that nobody wants to share, the ones best left to their own devices.

To lay claim to the lineage of Esau is to be overlooked circumstantially.

This is nobody’s fault, really, except

 the fault of the entire Universe.

And we are afraid to aim our hate at the Almighty Creator.

So instead, we aim it at each other.

And then we weep because we are starving for love.

The seed of these hungry beggar tears is anger. It lays the table for all subsequent events to come. We water this seed as we bide our time here, hoping helplessly for a fresh outpouring of blessing while settling for scraps from around the feet of blind superiors who dine above us.

All the things that made Esau feel small and disadvantaged from birth were handed to him by the Universe without consulting his opinion. He was dropped into his life without any say about his own introduction.

Esau faced insignificance

from his first day on earth.

So pull up a seat and let’s read Esau’s story together now, shall we?

Genesis 25:

“Isaac pleaded with the Lord on behalf of his wife, because she was unable to have children. The Lord answered Isaac’s prayer and Rebekah became pregnant with twins. But the two children struggled with each other in her womb. So she went to ask the Lord about it. ‘Why is this happening to me?’ She asked. And the Lord told her, ‘The sons in your womb will become two nations. From the very beginning, the two nations will be rivals. One nation will be stronger than the other; and your older son will serve your younger son.’ And when the time came to give birth, Rebekah discovered that she did indeed have twins! The first one was very red at birth and covered with thick hair like a fur coat. So they named him Esau (hair). Then the other twin was born with his hand grasping Esau’s heel. So they named him Jacob (heel/deceiver)."

--v21-26

This is where the struggle begins- Esau is born into a circumstance he did not choose but which chose him, and his world is defined by lack-

there is not enough love to go around.

We are small, unknowing, and so young.

We adapt.

We avoid.

We excuse ourselves from the table and step outside.

“As the boys grew up, Esau became a skillful hunter. He was an outdoorsman, but his brother Jacob had a quiet temperament, preferring to stay at home.” v28

We don’t ask questions, we just move through the situation as best we can with what we know so far, which is very little.

We observe the world around us.

“Isaac loved Esau because he enjoyed eating the wild game Esau brought home, but Rebekah loved Jacob.” v28

And though we are children, we are becoming aware that we must either produce or quickly consume whatever crumbs that we can.

We must be the strong one and let others take the seat of honor.

We internalize the pain.

This is a world of lack, and so

we put on a protective mask of apathy.

We become cynical and careless.

We self-sabotage.

“One day when Jacob was cooking some stew, Esau arrived home from the wilderness exhausted and hungry. Esau said to Jacob, ‘I’m starved! Give me some of that red stew!’ ‘All right,’ Jacob replied, ‘but first trade me your rights as the firstborn son.’” ’Look, I’m dying of starvation!’ said Esau. ‘What good is my birthright to me now?’ But Jacob said, ‘First you must swear that your birthright is mine.’ So Esau swore an oath, thereby selling all his rights as the firstborn to his brother, Jacob. Then Jacob gave Esau some bread and lentil stew. Esau ate the meal, then got up and left. He showed contempt for his rights as the firstborn.” 

--v29-34

And now at the table that the Universe has laid, our insecurities become the centerpiece.

We feast on “it’s complicated”, sticky-sweet dishes that we cannot identify but which wound and defeat us slowly from within, without our conscious awareness. Meals without nourishment.

This is where all Creation serves up harsh reality in abundance.

It is the people closest to Esau that become the greatest teachers of his pain.

“One day when Isaac was old and turning blind, he called for Esau, his older son, and said, ‘My son.’ ‘Yes, Father?’ Esau replied. ‘I am an old man now,’ Isaac said, ‘and I don’t know when I may die. Take your bow and a quiver full of arrows, and go out into the open country to hunt some wild game for me. Prepare my favorite dish, and bring it here for me to eat. Then I will pronounce the blessing that belongs to you, my firstborn son, before I die.'"

--27 v1-4

We leave the table and go outside, where we can often be found, because it’s just easier that way.

We give up our seat of honor, completely unaware of the cost.

“But Rebekah overheard what Isaac had said to his son Esau. So when Esau left to hunt for the wild game, she said to her son Jacob, ‘Listen. I overheard your father say to Esau, "Bring me some wild game and prepare me a delicious meal. Then I will bless you in the Lord’s presence before I die." Now, Jacob, listen to me. Do exactly as I tell you. Go out to the flocks, and bring me two fine young goats. I’ll use them to prepare your father’s favorite dish. Then take the food to your father so he can eat it and bless you before he dies.’” --27 v5-10

And minding our own business, while aiming our arrows at innocent beings in the distance, we’ve no idea that our birthright is being taken from us at that very moment.

Others are in discussion about us behind our backs, determining our fate and preparing our demotion. 

And those who decide our fate, they are blind to reality.

We lift the bow and arrow, narrow our gaze, find the perfect target, and release.

And our inheritance is destroyed while we are away shooting at small game.

“Then she took Esau’s favorite clothes, which were there in the house, and gave them to her younger son, Jacob. She covered his arms and the smooth part of his neck with the skin of the young goats. Then she gave Jacob the delicious meal, including freshly baked bread. So Jacob took the food to his father, ‘
My father?’ he said. 
‘Yes, my son,’ Isaac answered. ‘Who are you- Esau or Jacob?’ 
Jacob replied, ‘It’s Esau, your firstborn son. I’ve done as you told me. Here is the wild game. Now sit up and eat it so you can give me your blessing.’ 
Isaac asked, ‘How did you find it so quickly, my son?’ 
‘The Lord your God put it in my path!’ Jacob replied. 
Then Isaac said to Jacob, ‘Come closer so I can touch you and make sure that you really are Esau.’ 
So Jacob went closer to his father, and Isaac touched him.
'The voice is Jacob’s, but the hands are Esau’s,’ Isaac said. 
But he did not recognize Jacob, [because he was blind]. So Isaac prepared to bless Jacob. 
‘But are you really my son Esau?’ He asked. ‘
Yes, I am,’ Jacob replied.  
And when Isaac caught the smell of his clothes, he was finally convinced, and he blessed his son.” 
v15-27

The seed of self-sabotage, planted so long ago before we were even born, has now taken root and grown beyond our control. This is the moment when we reckon with our past, regret our choices, and grasp desperately for our future.

We enter the room totally unaware of what is about to pass. We are proud of what we bring to the table. Our innocence is our undoing.

Our ignorance is about to be consumed.

“As soon as Isaac had finished blessing Jacob, and almost before Jacob had left his father, Esau returned from his hunt. Esau prepared a delicious meal and brought it to his father. Then he said, ‘Sit up, my father, and eat my wild game so you can give me your blessing.’ But Isaac asked him ‘Who are you’ Esau replied, ‘It’s your son, your firstborn son, Esau.’ Isaac began to tremble uncontrollably and said, ‘Then who just served me wild game? I have already eaten it, and I blessed him just before you came. And yes, that blessing must stand!’” 

v30-33

The blessing is gone forever.

It’s gone.

So we deny the truth.

We still desperately believe that we can change the past.

“When Esau heard his father’s words, he let out a loud and bitter cry. ‘Oh my father, what about me? Bless me, too!’ he begged. But Isaac said, ‘Your brother was here and tricked me. He has taken away your blessing.’ Esau exclaimed, ‘No wonder his name is Jacob (deceiver), for now he has cheated me twice. First he took my rights as the firstborn, and now he has stolen my blessing. Oh, haven’t you saved even one blessing for me?’” 

v36

Oh God, give me one blessing to hold onto, just one. That’s all I ask now- a crumb! Is there anything left for me here? Not even the scraps from the table?

If sheer will-power could erase the regret, all would not be lost.

So we strive against the forces of fallen nature.

“Isaac said to Esau, ‘I have made Jacob your master and have declared that all his brothers will be his servants. I have guaranteed him an abundance of grain and wine- what is left for me to give you, my son?’” v37

Those who have hurt us, they are so very sorry, but it’s not really their fault. After all, they are blind, so it couldn't be helped.

It’s the fault of the Universe-

the loss is circumstantial.

Yet the holy part of us, the piece of our soul that knows it bears the image of the Creator, the royal and divine essence of our being, that voice inside us rises up and demands a reckoning.

Esau pleaded, ‘But do you have only one blessing? Oh my father, bless me, too!’ Then Esau broke down and wept.” v38

We are broken. Oh my God.

We were born into this fight,

my brother Esau and I.

The opposite of love is not hate. The opposite of love is apathy.

To be unseen is the ultimate form of dehumanization.

So we kneel and beg for a remnant. We wait for a handout. We try to give sight to the blind.

But the blessing we receive is not going to be what we hoped for.

"Finally, his father, Isaac, said to him, ‘You will live away from the richness of the earth, and away from the dew of the heaven above. You will live by your sword, and you will serve your brother. But when you decide to break free, you will shake his yoke from your neck.’” v39-40

We did not choose this.

We are angry, but we hide our anger from God and give it to our brothers instead.

And anger is the reason we stick around and scheme.

We plot and war against our brothers to cover up our wounds inflicted by the circumstances of the Universe, the wounds inflicted by our own contemptuous choices and masks of apathy.

“From that time on, Esau hated Jacob because their father had given Jacob the blessing. And Esau began to scheme: ‘I will soon be mourning my father’s death. Then I will kill my brother, Jacob.” v41

And so Esau will not see his brother for twenty years. They must part ways for all that time, because forgiveness is a process that cannot be rushed.

Reconciliation is a long hard journey, not a destination.

It takes time, so much time to heal.

Forgiveness takes a lifetime.

So for a long while afterwards we hoard and protect our anger, clutching it to our hearts, because it gives us great power- the power to beg, cry, weep, accuse and cover up our brokenness.

Hatred disguises our fear of being born into a fearful world full of lack.

And it has come to this- we hang around and barter with our superiors for the crumbs from their table.

And they are unseeing, blind to our plight- it is not their fault that they are blind, and they are so very sorry.

But the blessing is gone.

In the grief shall we miss the opportunity that is rising up from the ashes of defeat?

What is this strange poetry that we have been given?

Isaacs’ blessing leaves more than crumbs to grasp upon- there is a richness here, a hard-worn hope that stands out in stark contrast against Esaus’ weeping.

~*~

“You will live away from the richness of the earth, and away from the dew of the heaven above.”

This is the blessing of searching inwards.

First the thoughts will rove through a hard wilderness of denial, keeping far away from either the heights of joy or the depth of hurt.

We will retreat to consider our options. Our thoughts will wander among the remnants of the past. We will need to fight for purpose and meaning, rather than receive them effortlessly. Any nourishing thing we consume in this place will require the hard labor of effort and persistence, endurance and maturity.

~*~

“You will live by your sword, and you will serve your brother.”

This is the blessing of love as war.

Our thoughts will be volatile for a time and we will cast blame on others, enslaved to all the stages of grief.

We will need time to grieve- to pass fully through all the stages of sorrow and loss. This cannot be rushed or forced- it must be endured patiently and consciously. We must honor the pain of lost love. We have trusted and been hurt, but we can trust again. But first we must allow ourselves to be angry and grapple with what our anger means. We must face down our demons in order to defeat them. This internal warfare is the eventual path to acceptance, as we begin to face the reality of what cannot be undone.

~*~

“But when you decide to break free, you will shake his yoke from your neck.”

This is the blessing of freedom from offense.

When we forgive, we will victoriously rise above the grief.

The servitude to suffering is temporary, should we choose to do the long hard work and make a conscious change. If we can learn to adapt to the wilderness of regret, learn the discipline of forgiveness, wage warfare against hate, then we can break free from the angry and offended thoughts. But we must get up from where we now crawl around on our hands and knees, weeping and asking for even a tiny remnant of our brother’s blessings. This is the place of letting go.

We must release our pain through forgiveness of self and others.

But how do we know if we have truly forgiven?

Because our view of the world is no longer filtered through the past. We stop striving to change what has already happened. We accept the loss, we dwell in it, we make peace with it.

~*~

Someday we will fully forgive .

This is the blessing we are given now.

~*~

That brother who has wronged Esau, deceived him, taken away the things that should have been his. That brother who took away his blessed future, his very existence now tempts Esau to hate and scheme and strive.

We will someday have the strength and healing necessary to forgive- and therefore we are blessed.

This is the brother whose crumbs of success we are tempted to follow after and consume.

But this brother, the one who hurt us, he has his own story to tell, and it's a perspective to which we ourselves are blind.

The blind cannot lead the blind.

And so we must let him go in order to break free.

Our stories must diverge

in order to heal.

We must accept where we are today without criticism.

We must say goodbye to the past.

I am drawn to the story of Esau because I have inherited his spirit. These are my people, my ancestors, my birthright fathers and mothers- Cain, Hagar, Esau. The broken, doubting and angry ones- those who search for belonging. The outcast, the overlooked, the less-than, the small minions moving the plot along in the hidden background.

We feel so small because our stories go unseen-

but we are not invisible.

Here in Scripture are all the stories nobody else would tell except for God Himself- stories of the unseen, the forgotten, the ones whose thoughts rove through a barren wilderness, engage in warfare with hate and anger, and then break free through the power of forgiveness after a long hard struggle.

God gives me and my people a stage and a microphone, a social media platform and a pulpit, and He is our audience and His presence fills the entire auditorium. He sits in every pew, every chair, takes every seat. He listens intently and reads our every word. He hangs onto every sentence, supporting and encouraging and being present with us as we heal.

He does not abandon us in our time of vulnerability. 
Jesus will never send us away from His table.
He saves a special seat for his beloved.

He loves all of it, especially the uncomfortable chapters of our story that nobody else wants to touch. He is not threatened at all. He is enraptured with our stories- He values them for the treasures they truly are.

He cares deeply and truly about every word we think, write or speak.

And after we are done telling everything we ever needed to say, with a standing ovation and thunderous applause, God puts out a hand, smiles into our eyes and extends the invitation to you and to myself-

"I am so proud of you.

Now give to Me your anger and your pain,

beloved."

Because somewhere inside we must admit- we are angry at Him for our being born into a broken world filled with lack.

And there is nobody to blame, really, except the entire Universe which conspired against us from before the birth of our story.

We were born into this fight, my brother Esau and I.

I look at the Scriptures and see how it’s easier to crawl under the table and consume the crumbs than it is to stand and be seen and demand to be blessed with forgiveness in the hard place.

I want to fight for my blessing of forgiveness in the way Esau did- brazen, broken, desperate, determined and vulnerable.

Somewhere along the line I lost track of which things are

 my fault and which faults belong to others. 

It all gets muddled up in the scraping and striving.

And He asks us, “Give me your anger, child, give it to me. Let me transform it for you. Stop consuming crumbs around the feet of unseeing superiors. Set down your anger, push it across the table and give it all to Me. I want all of it.”

We can consume the broken crumbs of lost dreams or we can get up off the floor to work and labor for a crop of well-worn wisdom.

My friends, today let’s settle down into this wilderness where we have been roving. Let us begin to wage war against the lies we tell ourselves, and begin to break free from pretending the past can be any different than it already is.

When we learn to draw nourishment from the hard place where we dwell here and now, then we will no longer have a taste for the broken crumbs of regret.

And someday we will dine together with those who have hurt us, the broken misfits with embarrassing stories, and those who are blind. We will come together as brothers and sisters who are lacking nothing, bringing an abundance to the feast, because

we are all welcomed

to consume the blessing of forgiveness as equals

around the table of our King.

Cheers, my tiny tribe of readers! A toast to the lifelong journey of reconciliation.

Consume His promises today and be fully satisfied.

May all beings be peaceful and happy. Amen.

~*~

With deepest gratitude for all my readers-

Rebecca

To read Pearls and Presence, click here.

To read my story, click here.

Blessings in Earthen Vessels- Genesis 24

A Blessing is found in a clay pot within the hands of a stranger.

But I am an introverted skeptical cynic.

Which is why I have a blog. So I can write things like-

How can the answer to prayer be found in a plain earthen vessel?

Ah, my friends, let’s not forget that the King of the world was found in a dirty wooden trough.

It’s time to de-mystify and normalize the voice of God.

It’s time to recognize and trust the simplicity of the abundant gift.

My friends, when God extends to you an answer to prayer, do you stop and stare at it and question it before trusting? Do you pause and wait to see if you might be let down? Do you evaluate your level of emotional certainty and weigh all the other options?

Yes. I do. I am an introverted skeptical cynic.

But the reality is that sometimes the answer is standing before us, hands extended, offering us a drink of water to quench our parched throats after a long journey through the hot desert.

The answer to prayer is within the simplicity right in front of you.

Perhaps we have been walking along with a great caravan of baggage that brings us comfort and security, and so we are very weary. When finally we come to the well, we can set it all down and take a break to pray.

This is when we will encounter an answer before we can even finish asking.

And all we can do is stare in wonder at the stranger who stands before us with the earthen vessel. All we can do is repeat our questions.

Is this too good to be true? How do I know if this is an answer to prayer?

We almost miss the Blessing because we are searching for something more mysterious, more profound. We don’t realize that the answer is simple, straight-forward, and available here and now.  A treasure found in a jar made of clay, held in the arms of Someone we have never met before and yet have known all our lives.

A drink for our thirsty soul.

This week I made a specific and important ask before God. It is a new year and I knew there were some things that I was ready to let go of- emotional baggage that no longer served me, change I wanted to see happen in my personal life. It was all wrapped up in one specific prayer request that ended with “God, please GIVE ME A SIGN. Amen”.

I wrote it down in a journal entry and said it out loud. And I don’t know what I really expected to happen after that, except maybe nothing.

Or a miracle.

Would I hear the audible voice of God speaking in reply? I thought if I did get something in response, it would be mysterious feedback that I would need to decode. Or perhaps there would be some strings attached in order to prove myself and earn the prize.

Funny thing is, unlike most prayer requests, this answer came within HOURS. Literally, just a few hours. And it was straight-forward, clear as day, smiling into my dusty eyes, extending a drink to me, saying “THIS IS YOUR BLESSING”.

And I doubted.

"Where is the mystery? This is too easy. What am I missing?"

I’m scared to believe, God.

I also came to Genesis 24 on my slow journey through Scripture, and there I learned that treasures are often found in earthen vessels, even here and now.

Simple answers to prayer that don’t have any strings attached, but hands of kindness extended out.

“Accept the gift,” I said to myself. “Blessing is found within the clay pot. Take it, for God’s sake, girl!”

“See the sign and trust,” He said to me. “Receive the abundance. For your sake, child!”

In order to recognize the answers to prayer that stand before us, the Blessings that are extending to us a cool drink of water for our thirsty souls, we need to do just one thing:

De-mystify and normalize the voice of God, because Abundance is actually very simple.

Answers to prayer are not relegated to churches or Sundays or pastors- in fact sometimes it is the very religious things that will hinder or distract us from hearing directly from Him.

Sometimes the long caravan of baggage we 

carry is a religion empty of Divinity. 

So let’s walk together through Genesis 24-

“Abraham was now a very old man, and the Lord had blessed him in every way. One day Abraham said to his oldest servant, the man in charge of his household, ‘Go to my homeland, to my relatives, and find a wife there for my son Isaac.” v1-2,4

Okay. We are given an assignment; a task to accomplish that involves specific instructions. Seems straight-forward enough, what could go wrong? You say to yourself “you’ve got this! Execute it with perfection!”

Mmmm, wait. Perfection? Uh-oh. Fear creeps in, because striving for excellence brings anxiety. This is a lifelong struggle for me. And when I become anxious, I start asking worried questions-

The servant asked, ‘But what if I can’t find a young woman who is willing to travel so far from home?” v5

The worry is that perhaps we are being asked to do something too hard, because naturally we plan to achieve it in our own strength.

“But what if I can’t?”

The road to Blessing now looks difficult. The journey appears to be really long with too much hard work; the path is through a hot and dry desert.

So God encourages us with His promises, and He gives us His Word.

Abraham responded, “The Lord will send His angel ahead of you, and he will see to it that you find a wife there for my son.” v6

We want to be absolutely certain there is a drink of cool water on the other side.

With some hesitation we say, “Okay, God, I will trust you on this one. I will take the journey.”

“The servant swore to follow Abraham’s instructions.” v9

But we also take a whole caravan of backup plans and fear-based thoughts, just in case God doesn’t fulfill His end of things. Best to be prepared to do this independently, right?

“Don’t worry, God, I’ve got this. Let’s go…”

Then he loaded ten of Abraham’s camels with all kinds of expensive gifts from his master, and he traveled to a distant town.” v9-10

And so we go where God instructed us, but the journey is even harder because we are carrying everything we could possibly take with us for protection and security.

Loaded down with qualifications, possessions, titles, achievements, past hurts, regrets, grievances, offenses, fears, unmet needs and other impressive things we treasure- whatever convinces us we will be worthy of and entitled to the Blessing when we arrive.

Because maybe God will send an answer, but maybe, just in case, we should have something to bargain with to make the Answer to our prayer even better.

So naturally, by the time we get to the destination, we are desperately thirsty.

We must sit down, release our burdens, rest and gather back our strength.

We look around and wonder, “where is the Blessing? I’m so thirsty, God. It’s hot here, and this baggage is a lot of work. Where are You? All I see here are strangers in this place.”

 “He made the camels kneel beside a well just outside the town. It was evening, and the women were coming out to draw water.” v11

He did not ask us to grasp every single treasure we hold dear and caravan them all across the desert.

He only asked us to show up

and arrive thirsty.

But maybe we realize too late that the heavy load we shouldered through the entire wilderness was not going to accomplish anything when we arrived, except to hinder our strength. So now we lay it all down and realize nothing we brought is of any use in this moment.

All the protection and security we planned for, it’s out of our control.

We are surrounded by strangers in a foreign land.

Empty trust is required here.

Simple prayer is needed now, nothing more.

So we simply pray.

“Oh Lord, God of my master, Abraham,” the servant prayed. “Please give me success today and show unfailing love to my master Abraham.” v12

There is no certainty here, only need- an awareness of lack.

We show up, dusty and tired, lay our burdens down, and wait for help.

“God, give me a sign. What am I doing here?

Please help. This caravan is useless.”

“See, I am standing here beside this spring, and the young women of the town are coming out to draw water. This is my request. I will ask one of them, ‘Please give me a drink from your jug.’ If she says ‘Yes, have a drink, and I will water your camels, too!’ – let her be the one you have selected as Isaacs wife. This is how I will know that you have shown unfailing love to my master.” V13-14

We doubt that help is coming, and so we make parameters because of the fear that it will be easy to miss God’s answer. We think He may not clarify what the Blessing looks like. We think His reply will be complicated, so we start establishing guidelines.

We are afraid to trust.

We start to negotiate with the Creator of the universe.

But Blessing interrupts our frightened futility.

“Before he had finished praying, he saw a young woman named Rebekah coming out with her water jug on her shoulder. She was very beautiful and of age to be married, but she was still a virgin. She went down to the spring, filled her jug, and came up again. Running over to her, the servant said, ‘Please give me a little drink of water from your jug.’” V15-17

The answer to prayer shows up in the middle of our bartering tactics, interrupting with a cool drink of water. The Blessing is here after all. And she smiles and extends the earthen vessel out towards us and asks us to trust the simple Abundance.

“‘Yes, my lord,’ she answered, ‘have a drink.’ And she quickly lowered her jug from her shoulder and gave him a drink.” v18

Now we are a bit embarrassed by all the security measures we took to ensure an answer to prayer. Perhaps we realize that our manipulation is showing. What can you say when Blessing waters all your baggage, even if that burden looks like ten camels loaded with stuff you thought could help ensure the outcome?

You say nothing, because there are no words for this kind of Grace.

And the Abundant blessing has only just begun…

 “When she had given him a drink, she said, ‘I’ll draw water for your camels, too, until they have had enough to drink. So she quickly emptied her jug into the watering trough and ran back to the well to draw water for all his camels.” V18-20

Abundance looks like a lot of trips to down to the well and back. But Blessing covers all of it without hesitation.

Every last camel in our caravan of wounds is

watered, and peace covers the multitude of 

fear.

And still, we doubt.

Still, we remain speechless.

“The servant watched her in silence, wondering whether or not the Lord had given him success in his mission.” V21

All we can do is stare at Blessing in action.  Abundance waters every dry place inside: qualifications, possessions, titles, achievements, past hurts, regrets, grievances, offenses, fears, unmet needs and other impressive things we thought were a treasure but are really the things that makes us weary and worn.

Why do we doubt the freedom of Abundance?

The voice of God needs to be demystified- it’s not a church or a pastor or a Sunday. It’s not complicated or hidden deep inside religion.

It’s a child of God holding out a drink of 

water.

Someone who will willingly bring enough refreshment to compensate for all the weight of control that you were determined to drag with you in the heat of a dry desert afternoon.

Blessing quenches all of it.

Abundance lays it all down to rest.

Peace settles on the caravan of chaos.

All is quiet and time stands still.

And as we stare into the kind eyes before us, we realize that the things we believed would serve us in this moment, most of them are totally unnecessary and only weigh us down.

We discover that Abundance is found in simplicity.

Only a few things are really necessary now.

“Then at last, when the camels had finished drinking, he took out a gold ring for her nose and two large gold bracelets for her wrists.” v22

We realize that of all the burdens that we loaded onto our ten camels, perhaps only a handful of our treasures were really necessary after all. So we take them out and offer them up and say a prayer for help.

‘Whose daughter are you?’ He asked. And please tell me, would your father have any room to put us up for the night?” v23

And we wait for the voice of Blessing to give us permission. We are totally vulnerable now, exposed, broken and waiting. There is anticipation in our soul.

We are broken.

“I am Rebekah, the daughter of Bethuel. Yes, we have plenty of straw and feed for the camels, and we have room for guests.” V24-25

The wait is over. The weight is over. Blessing is upon us, here and now.

And we didn’t have to barter or beg, search or decode or strive.

We don’t need an impressive caravan.

We only needed to show up and be seen, ask and receive.

We have permission

to receive the Abundance.

“The servant bowed low and worshiped the Lord. ‘Praise the Lord, the God of my master Abraham.’ He said. ‘The Lord has shown unfailing love and faithfulness to my master, for he has led me straight to my master’s relatives.” V26-28

Worship is the recognition that blessing is found in earthen vessels.

That a King is found in human persons.

That a Kingdom is established in broken hearts.

We lay it all down and realize that God has been waiting to bless us all along, whether we showed up with just a handful of things or a full caravan of camels

.

The Blessing was not contingent upon our ability to impress or manipulate- it was based on the fact that we made the journey to show up and be seen.

The drink was going to be offered regardless. We just need to admit we are thirsty.

God, our souls are thirsty, deep down inside.

Dig a well, draw the water, and deliver us.

And now Blessing rushes back to the Father to call down a feast of Abundance upon us.

“The young woman ran home to tell her family everything that had happened.” V28

She forgot her jug.

The servant forgot why he came.

This is the law of awe and wonder.

Religion is simply the catalyst for

spiritual connection.

Blessing has been waiting for us longer than we have been waiting for it.

And so the Abundance to come is even greater than our present need.

Our request was too small.

This is the law of lavish love.

This is Abundance in action.

 “Rebekah’s brother rushed out to the spring, where the servant was still standing beside his camels. The man named Laban said to the servant, ‘Come and stay with us, you who are blessed by the Lord! Why are you standing here outside the town when I have a room all ready for you and a place prepared for the camels?’” v30-31

There is still a place of doubt in our heart which has had a great deal of influence and experience from our past. Our skepticism says we must earn the Blessing in order to receive Abundance.

Even in the joy of answered prayer, we still struggle for control.

I am an introverted skeptical cynic.

Won’t you join me, my friend?

“Then food was served. But Abraham’s servant said, ‘I don’t want to eat until I have told you why I have come.’” V32-33

As the abundance of Blessing is presented, we step back and wonder what it’s going to cost us.

We doubt. We don’t fully trust.

And because Blessing makes room for doubt, respecting our insecurities and honoring our fears, it keeps the feast warm while waiting patiently for all our skeptical questions to be answered.

“All right,’ Laban said, ‘tell us.’ v33

And we begin to state our case.

We tell God all the reasons that we have earned this Blessing, reasons why we deserve it, as if we need to convince Him of our worthiness.

We tell God all the reasons that we didn’t earn this Blessing, reasons why don’t deserve it, as if we need to convince Him of our unworthiness.

We parade

 our caravan of treasures.

“I am Abraham’s servant. And the Lord has greatly blessed my master; he has become a wealthy man.” v34

We are afraid to receive from Him. We are afraid He will see through us and revoke the Abundance. And so we list our accolades, our achievements, our titles, our labels, our acts of service and greatness.

We are afraid to be denied.

We are afraid He will see through us and deny our desires and crush our hopes and dreams.

And so we punish ourselves, take ourselves out of the game, revoke our own privileges as children of the King.

We keep one foot out the door, waiting to be kicked, planning an exit strategy.

But eventually we come to the end of the list of reasons why. 

And then we realize that none of it is holding us back, because the feast is already laid out and it’s meant just for us.

So we humbly admit our lack, our need and dependence…

Today when I came to the spring I prayed this prayer: ‘O Lord, God of my master, Abraham, please give me success on my mission. See, I am standing here beside this spring. This is my request.’” v42-43

We are vulnerable, revealing our inability to manipulate the outcome.

Exposing our need.

And expecting to be turned away now, we give Blessing an exit because we doubt our Divine inheritance.

“So tell me, will you or won’t you show unfailing love and faithfulness to my master? Please tell me yes or no, and then I’ll know what to do next.” v49

And Blessing sees our fearful heart and smiles at our childlike honesty.

And the answer to prayer comes quietly, honestly, straightforward.

“Then Laban replied, ‘The Lord has obviously brought you here, so there is nothing we can say. Here is Rebekah, take her and go. Yes, let her be the wife of your master’s son, as the Lord has directed.’” V50-51

Dear God, you really do want to bless me, don’t You? You love me so much.

Ah, the goodness is heartbreaking.

Tears flow. Abundant tears of gratitude.

Worship will be the natural response, and then the feast can begin.

“When Abraham’s servant heard their answer, he bowed down to the ground and worshiped the Lord. Then they ate their meal, and the servant and the men with him stayed there overnight.’” V52-54

So we dine with Divinity and celebrate the victory.

But receiving a Blessing is only the beginning.

Responding to it means returning to our community and sharing it with others.

Being responsible for answered prayer means

living your whole life as if it’s true.

It means taking it home with you.

Shouldering the burden of Blessing requires action.

Because what happens at the feast must travel out with you onto the desert road and beyond.

“Early the next morning, Abraham’s servant said, ‘Send me back to my master. Don’t delay me. The Lord has made my mission successful; now send me back so I can return to my master.’” v56

We could sit and enjoy the feasting and celebration for many days to come, basking in the goodness. But to truly receive the Blessing, we cannot be passive.

We must actively respond and pay it forward- we must take the Abundance back home.

It’s time to go home.

“Well,’ they said, ‘we’ll call Rebekah and ask her what she thinks. So they called Rebekah. ‘Are you willing to go with this man?’” they asked her. And she replied, ‘Yes, I will go.’” v57-58

So we leave our heavy caravan of treasures behind. The journey home with be easier because we travel lightly, carrying only Abundance now. There is certainty in the simplicity.

Our thirst has been quenched. Our prayer has been answered.

“Yes, I will go.”

It’s time to act as if this is really true.

Which sometimes means saying goodbye to the treasures from your past which no longer serve you.

“So they said good-bye to Rebekah and sent her away with Abraham’s servant and his men. Then Rebekah and her servant girls mounted the camels and followed the man. So Abraham’s servant took Rebekah and went on his way.’” v59, 61

The return journey is still long, hot and dry- it is the same road as before.

But we no longer carry the weight of our treasured past as we walk the road back home.

Now we carry an eternal soul and a trust in the lavish abundance of our everlasting God.

And we will eagerly pass on the Blessing to others because we realize we won’t lose a thing.

The caravan we travel with is eternal and immeasurable, contained in human vessels.

“One evening as Isaac was walking and meditating in the fields, he looked up and saw the camels coming. When Rebekah looked up and saw Isaac, she quickly dismounted from her camel. ‘Who is that man walking through the fields to meet us?’ she asked the servant.” v63-65

We present our gratitude to God with tears of joy, hands raised, fearless and free. This is the moment we could never earn, not even with a thousand camels of weighted regrets.

This is when Abundance meets community.

“And the servant replied, ‘It is my master.’ So Rebekah covered her face with her veil. Then the servant told Isaac everything he had done.” v65

And the Abundance of our answered prayer will echo for generations to come, because we learned to release our burdens, trust the Blessing and share it with others.

There, in community, Abundance can multiply.

 “And Isaac brought Rebekah into his mother Sarah’s tent, and she became his wife. He loved her deeply, and she was a special comfort to him after the death of his mother.” v67

My friends, we took the long hard journey through the dry and dusty desert, to show up and let ourselves be seen, lay down our burdens and ask humbly for help.

And now we see that blessing is found within the clay pot which is extended out in the hands of a stranger.

Now all creation celebrates with our victory, and the story will go on forever.

Because we trusted the simple Answer which is found in a dirty wooden trough, available to every human person that has ever lived and loved and known what it means to be thirsty.

We showed up and allowed ourselves to be seen and stand in the uncertainty of not knowing.

We were willing to travel the long road back 

home, to share what we had learned with 

others.

Blessings are answers to prayer, simple and beautiful, a Stranger we have always known.

“God has yet to bless anyone except where they actually are.” 
― Dallas Willard

On my own journey through the desert, I had quite a caravan of camels with me.

And one day in particular I will never forget: I was using my iPhone gps for directions to someplace new.

I was looking for a well, because I was thirsty.

“Take the exit,” my iPhone gps stated very matter-of-factly.

This instruction made me cry.

I burst into tears when my iPhone told me to “take the exit”. I cried as I took the freeway off-ramp. A well of tears came up.

Because I realized I was not going to carry this caravan of useless treasures with me for very much longer. I was about to take an EXIT.

I was time to travel in a new direction.

The Blessing was going to be found at a well in a foreign land among strangers.

And Abundance was in the releasing of 

treasure.

The journey would lead me through a dry desert to a well, where only humility and honesty would quench my thirst.

I would need to have a great deal of courage to trust the answer and receive the Blessing.

Remember, dear reader, that Blessing is found inside a clay pot within the hands of a stranger.

An Abundance which will fill all the dry places and follow us home.

This week I was blessed with an answer to prayer that simple and yet profound. A Blessing which looked like a dry desert road that required courage, humility, bravery and honesty.

But I am an introverted skeptical cynic.

Which is why I have a blog. So I can ask things like-

How can the answer to prayer be found in a plain earthen vessel?

Ah, my friends, let’s not forget that the King of the world was found in a dirty wooden trough.

It’s time to de-mystify and normalize the voice of God.

It’s time to recognize and trust the simplicity

 of the abundant gift.

My friends, when God extends to you an answer to prayer, do you stop and stare at it and question it before trusting? Do you pause and wait to see if you might be let down? Do you evaluate your level of emotional certainty and weigh all the other options?

Yes. I do. I am an introverted skeptical cynic. Are you?

But the reality is that sometimes the answer is standing before us, hands extended, offering us a drink of water to quench our parched throats after a long journey through the hot desert.

The answer to prayer is within the simplicity right in front of you.

Perhaps we have been walking along with a great caravan of baggage that brings us comfort and security, and so we are weary. When finally we come to the well, we can set it all down and take a break to pray.

This is when we will encounter an answer before we can even finish asking.

And all we can do is stare in wonder at the stranger who stands before us with the earthen vessel. All we can do is repeat our questions.

Is this too good to be true? How do I know if this is an answer to prayer?

We almost miss the Blessing because we are searching for something more mysterious, more complicated.

We don’t realize that the answer is simple, straight-forward, and available here and now.  A treasure found in a jar made of clay, held in the arms of Someone we have never met before and yet have known all our lives.

A drink for our thirsty soul.

Don’t miss the Blessings this week, my friends. When you pray for guidance, remember that Abundance is simply waiting beside the well to give you a drink.

Bring only what is absolutely necessary- humility and honesty contained in our earthen bodies.

Don’t drag all your junk through the dry desert- it won’t help you anyway. Trust me, I know.

Just show up, ask for help and allow yourself to be seen.

And Abundance will lay a feast in your honor and then follow you back home. And when we get to our destination, we will pass the Blessing along to others, and the story will go on for all eternity.

Receive the earthen vessel. Drink deeply. Release your burdens.

And bring the Abundance home.

~*~

With deepest gratitude for all my readers-

Rebecca

To read Pearls and Presence, click here.

To read my story, click here.