Monday’s for me always seem to be a challenge. I have my week pretty well planned out but even my quiet time with the Lord in the early hours seems to be a struggle. I guess, over the years I’ve just learned to live with it, but this morning I was reminded of something; something so subtle that it usually goes unnoticed. I was asking the Lord why on some days I just can’t seem to enter into His presence; usually on Mondays. What’s wrong? His response was a bit startling… Read Your Book!
Well my first thought was, You told me what to write so it’s really “Your” book. But I’ve learned the hard way to keep those comments to myself (well at least it feels that way). So as I thought about it the Lord reminded me of the first part of Wake Up And Rest. He took me back to the Song of Solomon and one verse that had always been a part of my motivation for writing the book:
Song 1:5 I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon. KJV
That’s when He reminded me that while I often see myself as unworthy and dark as those tents that have been blistered by the hot sun, He sees me as comely; lovely and highly desirable. So why the discrepancy? Why don’t I just agree with Him, after all my sins have been paid for and forgiven? Well, that’s just the problem. I don’t fully agree with Him and when I pressed the subject His answer took me to another favorite part of the book:
Song 2:15 Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes. KJV
My thoughts went back to when I was writing the book and at this particular verse the Lord spent quite a bit of time talking about the importance of the little foxes. The part that really stuck in my brain was the fact that foxes don’t come in a pack like wolves. They sneak in and nip at the vine; slowly and subtly spoiling the fruit. At the same time they take the attention of the laborer away from the owner of the vineyard and focus it on the foxes. Put another way, they are little distractions that interrupt our relationship with our bridegroom. We like to think of them as sins, which they are, but they are more than that.
Oh, how many times have I let one of the little foxes slip into the vineyard and excused his presence… it’s just one of my quirks, just an old habit I’ll get rid of one day… that’s just who I am. They are all just subtle thoughts from my old nature that are casually brought up as excuses by the enemy; or by me! But it’s those little foxes that I am so ready to dismiss as just a nuisance that spoil my relationship with Jesus. Oh, I’m not talking about backsliding, although they could lead to that; I’m talking about those little sins that interrupt my peace. The ones that, without my even noticing, disrupt my thoughts and keep me from hearing the voice of the Spirit who is telling me to deal with them. Then, rather than taking care of the “fox of the moment,” I try and press on into His presence and wonder why I’m not getting there.
So, when we aren’t able to enter into His presence there can be a number of reasons; His withdrawing to urge us to press in deeper or our own soulish (selfish) distractions. But when we are searching for the reason, one of the first things we need to do is check in our vineyard. Is the Holy Spirit trying to point out a little fox that is spoiling the vine; spoiling our relationship with Jesus? They can be just as much of a problem as what we think of as “big sins,” but they are much more dangerous because we find them so easy to ignore. If a pack of wolves came in they would have our immediate attention, but a little fox slinking in under the cover of the vine itself is another matter.
Quirk, Habit or Something Else? For me it’s most often a “little fox” that I try and pass of as a Quirk or a Habit. So we need to deal with them and not allow them to gain such a foothold that we once again see ourselves black as the tents of Kedar. Jesus wants us to see ourselves as He does… comely and white as the curtains in Solomon’s tent. And to do that we have to deal with the foxes; straightaway the moment He tells us they are in our vineyard.