writing

Adorning the Dark

/ Morgan Grace Hart / Leave a comment

Excerpt from Adorning the Dark by Andrew Peterson: B&H Publishing, 2019.

“The first few times I was in a position of leadership at a retreat or conference I was so nervous I could hardly speak. When my dear friend Kenny Woodhull asked me to co-lead a retreat with Michael Card about fifteen years ago, I declined. Putting on a concert is one thing; I could do that. But teaching? Speaking? Leading? Clearly Kenny had the wrong guy. But he talked me into it. At the first session of that retreat, after Michael gave his brilliant introductory thoughts, it was my turn to say a few words. I stammered as I told them that I felt unqualified, but that I had to trust something George Macdonald once wrote about the inner chamber of God’s heart: 


‘As the fir-tree lifts up itself with a far different need from the need of the palm-tree, so does each man stand before God, and lift up a different humanity to the common Father. And for each God has a different response. With every man he has a secret—the secret of the new name. In every man there is a loneliness, an inner chamber of peculiar life into which God only can enter . . . a chamber into which no brother, nay, no sister can come. From this it follows that there is a chamber also—(O God, humble and accept my speech)—a chamber in God himself, into which none can enter but the one, the individual, the peculiar man—out of which chamber that man has to bring revelation and strength for his brethren. This is that for which he was made—to reveal the secret things of the Father.’


That is to say, you know and understand things about the heart of God that only you can teach. Once I was in a counseling session with my dear friend Al Andrews, working through a painful season of my childhood. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I said with a sniffle. “My brother and sisters don’t seem to carry this same pain, and we were all there at the same time, in the same house.” Al said, “If I were to interview four siblings about their childhoods, they would each describe a completely different family.” Your story, then, is yours and no one else’s. Each sunset is different, depending on where you stand. So when the voices in my head tell me I have nothing to offer, nothing interesting to say, I fight back with George MacDonald. 

Jesus said, “In my Father’s house are many rooms” (John 14:2). Could it be that those rooms are inner chambers in the heart of God, each of which has an individual’s name on it? If this is true, and I’d like to believe it is, then all I have to do is tell about my Lord and my God. Because I know him intimately, uniquely, it may be a revelation, in a sense, of the secret things of the Father. This is part of my calling—to make known the heart of God. And because he holds a special place in his heart for me and me alone (just as he holds a special place for you), my story stands a chance to be edifying to my sisters and brothers, just as your story, your insight, your revelation of God’s heart, is something the rest of us need.”

Thank you, and have a wonderful weekend. 

With Love,
Morgan Hart

My Snuggly Bunny

/ Morgan Grace Hart / 1 Comment

The other day, I saw an image that took my breath away. It was a pastel watercolor of a young boy, falling asleep on a porch swing, with a young rabbit curled up on his chest. The image was so gentle, so peaceful, that it brought tears to my eyes.

With a little research, I found out it was from this book:

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Furtively, I went online to order a used copy. Looking over my shoulder, I made sure no one saw me order it, made sure it would come in a plain brown box, as if I was buying something obscene!

This is how deeply I hate being the sensitive person that I am. It feels too much like weakness to me. I hate personality tests that rate other people as “lions” or “wolves” while rating me as a “dove” or “doe” or another useless, severely weak animal.

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I hate people seeing me crying at a movie, or looking at a children’s book. I even hated it when I had my first child, and some coworkers came to visit. I felt pathetic and laughable to be seen in such a state, marked as I was by blood and bandages, not fully dressed, unable to sit up unassisted. While I loved my child like crazy, the presence of a newborn in my arms did not help. In my mind, this one visit ruined the image I had worked so hard to cultivate: the image of a strong, self-assured, working woman.

It hasn’t gotten any easier since that day. In mixed company, I avoid talking about being an artist, for fear that it will make me look moody. I avoid owning anything that is too pink, too lacy, or too silly, for fear I won’t be taken seriously. I think about creativity and emotion – my “soft” side – as something inferior, an embarrassment that must be covered up at all costs.

This time, though, God has not been silent on the matter. He told me that while I may despise my “soft” side, it’s actually the part of me that most closely resembles Him. He said love and sensitivity – and with it, the ability to be hurt – were Godlike traits. He said that the problem was not sensitivity at all: it was the fact that someone, influenced by the Devil, had told me that I shouldn’t be that way.

In my mind’s eye, I saw a flowing river, and at one spot, its movement was being impeded by an ugly, rock-covered sand bar, jutting out almost to my full height. Jesus told me not to worry, that we’d work on it together, over time. And He took my hand and told me that He loves me.

He loves me.

I can’t count the number of times He’s told me this, sometimes through others, sometimes through scriptures, and sometimes from His own mouth; but every single time, it catches me off guard. He loves me. The God of all the Universe loves me.

Beloved Readers,

May you find His love today and throughout the week.

Sincerely,

Morgan Grace Hart
Scripture for Today:
“Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:

Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death
— even death on a cross!
Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.”
Philippians 2:1-11 – https://www.biblegateway.com/passage?search=Philippians%202:1-11&version=NIV

You Never Belonged

/ Morgan Grace Hart / Leave a comment
So I had the most wonderful conversation with Jesus Christ recently. I hadn’t felt His presence in what seemed like eons. I had decided to push on in prayer, through sheer force of will, and just hope for the intimacy to be restored — it feels like walking through hot smoke and ice water when I can’t feel my Lord near me.
I don’t know what caused him to show up out of the blue, one afternoon. But I had recently gone through a huge personal struggle about being upset with my status at work, and ultimately, consulted the scriptures and decided to pursue humility. If I were to guess, it was this conscious decision that brought my Lord near me, as humility always brings God closer to us (Micah 6:8; James 4:6-8; Psalm 34:18, 51:17-18, 149:4; 1 Peter 3:3-4, 5:6; Phillipians 2:3-9; Isaiah 66:1-2; Luke 14:11; Proverbs 3:34; 2 Corinthians 12:9-10). Or perhaps it was just my continued wanting him (James 4:8, Jeremiah 29:13). But it’s not mine to know: we “walk by faith, not sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7).
At the particular moment he came to me, I was praying and  struggling with some very unhappy things in my heart. In my mind’s eye, I saw myself standing alone. Then Jesus approached me, and wrapped his arms tightly around my shoulders, resting his head against mine, my face against his shoulder. He gave me a moment of quiet, then broke the silence in a gentle but assured voice:
“I know that you feel like you’ve never belonged anywhere,” he said, slowly. “But you do — you belong here, you belong with me. I want you here with me, forever, every time you wake up, every time you go to sleep.”
Then he quoted to me from John 14:20: “On that day you will know that I am in My Father, and you are in Me, and I am in you.” And it struck me for the first time that, this wonderful man whom I admired and loved so much – I was actually a part of Him. I had always understood that Christ was in me – a piece of his heart metaphorically beating in my chest – but I had never, ever thought about, that I was a part of him.
I was in Him – who I was, in some small way, contributed to who He was. He let that sink in, with an equally amazing idea that I really did have a job to do for the Kingdom of God, that I really was chosen for a reason and tasked to maintain some crucial role in the will of Jesus Christ and His goals here on the Earth, a “member of His body,” as Paul described it. And Jesus said to me, in my mind’s eye, “you belong with me, here, forever.” He emphasized this last part: “and you are exactly the person I wanted.” I was elated. I could not think of a kinder commission he could have spoken over me. I’m still reeling, weeks later.
Forget sin, forget failure, all that is behind us now. As far as my Lord is concerned, I have always been, and always will be, the one who fills a tiny hole in His heart, the lost sheep so crucial that He’d leave everything behind to redeem me.
God bless, and have a good weekend.