Monuments and Markers

This week is the 25th anniversary of our church's founding. To lead into the week our pastor spoke about our ebenezers, or the times we can point to as reminders of God's faithfulness. I thought it an interesting topic, quite honestly because that is something I have been thinking about for a couple of weeks now.

The origin of the term ebenezer comes from the Hebrew Eben-Ezer, meaning stone of help or thus far God has helped us. There are two narratives on Eben-Ezer in the Old Testament; one detailing the capture of The Ark of the Covenant by the Philistines upon being taken into battle by the Israelites, the second is of Samuel offering sacrifice to God and Israel defeating the Philistines. After defeating the Philistines it is said that Samuel placed a stone as a remembrance and calls it Eben-Ezer.

I have not been focused on the past 25 years of our church, the seven years we have been part of the church, or some ancient rock a prophet set in place. I have, though, been thinking of the times when I realize God's faithfulness in my own life. God is always faithful, it's me who is unfaithful, and to that end I have looked for markers to remind me of the times when my blindness to his faithfulness was returned to sight.

There are so many markers to remind me of God's faithfulness. My wife, my kids, and my family all remind me of his blessings. My home, my health, my comfort, and my possessions remind me of his provision. These are constant, sustaining graces bestowed on me. While there are times any one of those things can be frustrating, I cannot think of a time when I have not been able to thank God for those things. I don't think those are my ebenezers.

Depression and bipolar, though, that is another story. Perfectionism is yet again another. Many of my years I stewarded those little kingdoms unto myself. I protected, sheltered, and grew them because I feared that part of my story was unacceptable to God. Those were some of the things where I relied on myself, where I worshiped at the alter of my own heart. I held closely to that brokenness for fear it would reveal my lack of faith.

Over the past year I have come to realize entering into brokenness, recognizing it for what it is, and accepting it as part of my nature have really set me free from myself. In setting me free of myself I have become free to be myself. Sure I still struggle and hold on to those broken pieces. They are my little idols and it takes a lot for me to hand them over. The difference is, time and time again, I find myself able to hand them over. When I do hand them over I find myself wrapped in loving arms, not the deep condemnation and contempt I drowned in when I was holding them. In not living for me, I find I am loved so much that I like being me for once.

Handing myself over, stewarding the brokenness by giving my heart away, is where I place my ebenezer. I even picked a physical marker to remind me of it. I'm not sure everyone needs to do that, but it's helpful for me. I can think of all the years when I felt so alone, so unloved, so reviled, and realize, even in the darkness of my own idol worship, God was faithful to bring me to today.