New Wine

One of my favorite moments of the trip happened on a Sunday morning in the breezeway. The breezeway was a favorite spot because it was surrounded by palm trees and offered a beautiful place to hammock where the gentle breeze would disrupt the humid air. The breezeway was a place where you couldn't feel temperature. Weather was something you didn't really notice, because it was perfect. It didn't have a chill that brought goosebumps and it didn't bring a sweat-inducing heat. It was so perfect it was nearly intangible.

These details aren't really relevant to the story, but it's worth acknowledging how much this location meant to me. It is where my most impactful quiet times happened, my richest conversations, and the moments where God spoke to me most. 

This happened beautifully, like I said, on a Sunday morning. We were planning on going to a church in Belmopan (the capital city) called LifeNet. Because the tire on our bus was slashed, we had a bit more time to relax, as we would be carpooling in shifts. 

I sat in the comfortable chairs amidst the comfortable weather with friends who make me feel most comfortable, and the Lord prompted a conversation that initiated our discomfort. 

One friend put down her book and interrupted the serene silence. "Do you ever feel like you're not enough? Like...not good enough? Or not talented enough???"

A bit leery, we slowly nodded our heads "yes." 

Eventually, another friend spoke up. "Yeah, or not helpful enough. Not involved enough. Surely there's no way God could use someone like me." 

The words seemed harsh, but they evidently described what everyone was thinking. It can be so easy to get weighed down with insecurities...to feel like we are never enough for Him. Despite the motivational self-love rallies and posts about being worthy, the truth is that we live in a world where comparison robs joy like a thief and Satan continually uses the things we feel worst about to distract and discourage us from reaching our full potential in Christ. 

Fortunately, God gave me words about that exact idea just moments before. I had been reading Lysa TerKeurst's newest bestseller, It's Not Supposed to be this Way. She discusses the Moabites, a nation who was spared from going into captivity. In fact, they didn't face many trials at all. 

Jeremiah 48:11 describes Moab like this: "It has been at rest since the beginning, like wine left on its dregs, not poured from one jar to another - she has not gone into exile, so she tastes just like she always has and her aroma is unchanged."

Like I said, life is easy for Moab. Things are comfortable for them. They feel like they are good. And because they think they're good, they don't get turned upside down or shaken up. Good wine is left unjarred by its winemaker, but it eventually rots because it has been left alone for so long. It is in the moments where we recognize how desperate we are for our Winemaker that we are truly made new. 

So, we began to discuss this. We talked about our feelings of inadequacy and how maybe those were necessary to keep us pressing into our Winemaker. If we thought we were good, we would likely rot. We wouldn't look to God to change us and turn us and make us new. We would sit comfortably...so comfortably that we would eventually come to ruin. 

Eventually the conversation dwindled back to comfortable silence and we sat there contentedly, thinking about the way God had just worked through each of us. If that wasn't enough, we finally left to go to church at LifeNet. The title of the sermon was, "New Wine." The song we sang throughout most of worship was Hillsong's latest, "New Wine." 

I was absolutely floored. Tears brimmed my eyes and chills spread like wildfire all over my skin. I couldn't believe the way He worked. 

As we worshipped, I belted the words to the song like I had never belted before.

In the crushing
In the pressing
You are making
New wine

...

'Cause where there is new wine
There is new power
There is new freedom
And the kingdom is here
I lay down my old flames
To carry Your new fire today

...

Jesus, bring new wine out of me.

And oh did He ever. I was crushed. Pressed. Burnt out and worn down. But I found that He was using all of that to make new wine out of me. He was keeping me from sitting still for too long. He loved me enough to jar me and turn me upside down and make me new. What a joy it is to carry His new fire today. 

I am so thankful for the pressing and crushing that is making me new. Here's to hoping for a year full of new wine!