Every year I read through the Bible. When I come to the last day of the year my heart beats a little faster as I read the words of Malachi, the last book of the Old Testament. The prophet speaks of the great and awesome day of the Lord. "For indeed, the day is coming, burning like a furnace, when all the arrogant and everyone who commits wickedness will become stubble. The coming day will consume them root and branches. But for you who fear My name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings..." (Malachi 4:1,2). These words remind me of what Zechariah said concerning the birth of Jesus, "because of the tender mercies of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high" (Luke 1:78). And in Jesus the morning light from heaven broke upon us, inviting those who would to seek shelter beneath his wings, receiving salvation from the wrath of God that would be poured out upon the wicked.
The last Psalm begins and ends with the word, "Hallelujah!" As I read this last Psalm I feel as if the curtains of heaven are pulled back and my heart is filled with the music of trumpets. I hear the harp and the lyre all playing songs of praise. I feel within me my spirit laughing and dancing with joy at the sounds of the tambourine and the resounding cymbals; the praise of the clashing cymbals!
Everything that has breath is praising God in His sanctuary. In the sheer beauty of praise I see Him in His mighty heavens. I am overwhelmed with praise for His powerful acts and His abundant greatness. My heart joins with all of creation as I cry out Hallelujah!
Now I read the last verse in the book of Proverbs and pray with all that is within me that this verse can be spoken of me, "Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord will be praised. Give her the reward of her labor, and let her works praise her at the city gates" (Proverbs 31:30-31). The tears burn in my eyes as I read these last words from the book of wisdom and my heart cries out, "Oh Lord, may the works of my hands and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in Your sight!"
Now I come to the last chapter in this love letter from God. "Then he showed me the river of living water, sparkling like crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the broad street of the city. On both sides of the river was the tree of life bearing 12 kinds of fruit, producing its fruit every month." Even as I read these words I am reminded of Jesus crying out, "If anyone is thirsty, he should come to Me and drink! The one who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, will have streams of living waters flow from deep within him." Jesus broke the curse and now we are free to drink living water and eat from the tree of life. Then come the final words of the book, "He who testifies about these things says, 'Yes, I am coming quickly.' Amen! Come, Lord Jesus! The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all the saints. Amen" (Revelation 22:20,21).
Tomorrow I will begin my day by reading, "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth."
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Wednesday, December 28, 2016
Released
I wanted to. I tried to. I just didn't know how.
Following brain surgery I lost the hearing in my right ear. My balance nerve had been severed. My facial nerve was also damaged, causing the right side of my face to be paralyzed. It took three months and two surgeries before I was able to close my eye without taping it closed. However, the hardest loss of all was my loss of dignity.
Following the surgery I was unable to turn my brain off. I felt like I was a marionette whose strings were being pulled by unseen hands. I wanted desperately to sleep, to rest, to just stop thinking! Finally, I was taken to a doctor's office where I was asked to give my mental history. I was just getting ready to respond by saying that over forty years ago I had had a bi-polar episode but had not any problems with it until my brain surgery, when the person I was with began to answer for me. She began to give a detailed description of the most embarrassing chapter of my life. She was very thorough and nothing was left out. I sat there in stunned, humiliated silence.
Later, I went to a different doctor where I was allowed to speak. I was given something to help me sleep, and within a short amount of time I was back to normal--except for the tormentor called "Unforgiveness". I couldn't seem to get the degrading scene out of my mind. It played over and over. Each time I saw it, the rut was dug deeper into my mind. I felt like my soul had been scarred by shame. I didn't want to be angry; I truly wanted to forgive. I believed that this person had not intended to harm me but to help me. But that didn't matter. This incident became the focal point of pain, the place where my last shred of dignity was taken away.
The memory haunted me every day for over a year. Every day I prayed and asked God to help me forgive. And then finally it happened. My pastor was preaching on the Lord's prayer. When he got to the phrase, "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors," he explained that sometimes the reason we have trouble forgiving has to do with an idol in our heart. I prayed, "Father! what is the idol in my heart that is making it impossible for me to forgive?" As soon as I asked, I heard my Father say, "Your idol is your pride. You are seeking your own glory."
It was true. Everything that had happened since my surgery had been ripping away at my pride. I had always prayed for humility because I knew that God gives grace to the humble but resists the proud. I just had never realized how proud I really was. Now I realized that, like a skillful surgeon, God had used all the hurtful circumstances to expose this idol that was buried deep in my heart. I wish that I could say, "Thank God that's over with! I'll never struggle with pride again." But I know that it is a daily choice to humble myself. What I can say is that, when I was able to find the idol attached to my inability to forgive, God gave me the grace to forgive and He packed my wound with peace and healed it with His presence.
Following brain surgery I lost the hearing in my right ear. My balance nerve had been severed. My facial nerve was also damaged, causing the right side of my face to be paralyzed. It took three months and two surgeries before I was able to close my eye without taping it closed. However, the hardest loss of all was my loss of dignity.
Following the surgery I was unable to turn my brain off. I felt like I was a marionette whose strings were being pulled by unseen hands. I wanted desperately to sleep, to rest, to just stop thinking! Finally, I was taken to a doctor's office where I was asked to give my mental history. I was just getting ready to respond by saying that over forty years ago I had had a bi-polar episode but had not any problems with it until my brain surgery, when the person I was with began to answer for me. She began to give a detailed description of the most embarrassing chapter of my life. She was very thorough and nothing was left out. I sat there in stunned, humiliated silence.
Later, I went to a different doctor where I was allowed to speak. I was given something to help me sleep, and within a short amount of time I was back to normal--except for the tormentor called "Unforgiveness". I couldn't seem to get the degrading scene out of my mind. It played over and over. Each time I saw it, the rut was dug deeper into my mind. I felt like my soul had been scarred by shame. I didn't want to be angry; I truly wanted to forgive. I believed that this person had not intended to harm me but to help me. But that didn't matter. This incident became the focal point of pain, the place where my last shred of dignity was taken away.
The memory haunted me every day for over a year. Every day I prayed and asked God to help me forgive. And then finally it happened. My pastor was preaching on the Lord's prayer. When he got to the phrase, "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors," he explained that sometimes the reason we have trouble forgiving has to do with an idol in our heart. I prayed, "Father! what is the idol in my heart that is making it impossible for me to forgive?" As soon as I asked, I heard my Father say, "Your idol is your pride. You are seeking your own glory."
It was true. Everything that had happened since my surgery had been ripping away at my pride. I had always prayed for humility because I knew that God gives grace to the humble but resists the proud. I just had never realized how proud I really was. Now I realized that, like a skillful surgeon, God had used all the hurtful circumstances to expose this idol that was buried deep in my heart. I wish that I could say, "Thank God that's over with! I'll never struggle with pride again." But I know that it is a daily choice to humble myself. What I can say is that, when I was able to find the idol attached to my inability to forgive, God gave me the grace to forgive and He packed my wound with peace and healed it with His presence.
Tuesday, December 20, 2016
The Parable of the Doll
My eyes shot open with the thrill of anticipation. For months I had asked--no, I had demanded--that I be given the doll I had seen advertised on TV. I had hardly slept all night, and now at last it was Christmas morning. I ran into the living room, and there, beneath the tree, was the doll of my dreams. There was only one problem...my sister's name was on it.
I sat there in stunned silence staring at my sister and her doll until my mother came and took me to the gift that had my name on it. It was not what I had chosen or wanted. My disappointment was obvious. Mother gently explained that she had chosen this particular gift for me. She told me that she had gone to the store to buy what I had asked for, but when she saw this doll she knew it should be mine.
That Christmas I had the flu. I took Susie to my sick bed and somewhere during the day I found that my mother had made the right choice for me. I don't remember what happened to my sister's doll, but Susie became a symbol of my childhood. I spoke of her so often to my children that one Christmas morning to my utter delight there was a doll identical to Susie sitting under the tree! My daughter Elisabeth had searched for years until she found a replace for the doll of my childhood.
I have found that there are times when my Heavenly Father has chosen gifts for me, gifts that I would have never chosen for myself. These are things in my life that have seemed at first more like curses than blessings or gifts. Surely this was true of the man who was blind from birth who heard the question asked,"Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" But Jesus responded by saying,"This came about so that God's works might be displayed in him." And so the man's blindness was not a curse but instead a great gift.
Today my new Susie sits in an antique chair with her arms open wide. She is not only is a symbol of my childhood, she is a parable to me of a deeper truth. Sometimes an unwanted gift, chosen by a loving parent, represents a great blessing. Sometimes when the thing we thought was a curse comes in contact with Jesus we find that it is the place in which we see God's works displayed in our lives.
I sat there in stunned silence staring at my sister and her doll until my mother came and took me to the gift that had my name on it. It was not what I had chosen or wanted. My disappointment was obvious. Mother gently explained that she had chosen this particular gift for me. She told me that she had gone to the store to buy what I had asked for, but when she saw this doll she knew it should be mine.
That Christmas I had the flu. I took Susie to my sick bed and somewhere during the day I found that my mother had made the right choice for me. I don't remember what happened to my sister's doll, but Susie became a symbol of my childhood. I spoke of her so often to my children that one Christmas morning to my utter delight there was a doll identical to Susie sitting under the tree! My daughter Elisabeth had searched for years until she found a replace for the doll of my childhood.
I have found that there are times when my Heavenly Father has chosen gifts for me, gifts that I would have never chosen for myself. These are things in my life that have seemed at first more like curses than blessings or gifts. Surely this was true of the man who was blind from birth who heard the question asked,"Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" But Jesus responded by saying,"This came about so that God's works might be displayed in him." And so the man's blindness was not a curse but instead a great gift.
Today my new Susie sits in an antique chair with her arms open wide. She is not only is a symbol of my childhood, she is a parable to me of a deeper truth. Sometimes an unwanted gift, chosen by a loving parent, represents a great blessing. Sometimes when the thing we thought was a curse comes in contact with Jesus we find that it is the place in which we see God's works displayed in our lives.
Saturday, December 17, 2016
Mother's Prayer and Blessed Hope
The words echo in our ears and are written on our heart.
We gathered to celebrate my mother's ninetieth birthday. Her nine children and their spouses surrounded her as she opened her gifts. After the last gift was opened my mother stood to speak. Mother shared with us her prayer, her blessing, her benediction for her children, her grandchildren and her great grandchildren. We all know the prayer by heart, For many of us it is the prayer that we now pray for our children and grandchildren and one day for our great grandchildren.
Mother said, "I ask God for one hundred fold, that all my descendants will know Jesus Christ as their Savior. I pray that you will walk in the truth. I pray that you will fervently love each other." Mother then spoke of the blessed hope that she has, the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ. This blessed hope of the second coming of Jesus was passed from her grandmother Nell Gillespie to her father and mother and then to her. It was urgent to mother that this baton which had been passed down to her should be passed onto the next generation.
Jesus' first coming was spoken of as, "the tender mercies of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace" (Luke 2:78,79). The Dawn came and the light shown, yet there were many who chose to stay in the darkness because they rejected the truth. They were unlike Simeon who was looking forward to and waiting for the promised coming of the Messiah.
The exhortation my ninety-year-old mother gave to her children is an echo of what Peter said. "I think it right as long as I am in this body to stir you up by way of reminder, since I know that the putting off of my body will be soon, as our Lord Jesus Christ made clear to me. And I will make every effort so that after my departure you may be able at any time to recall these things" (2 Peter:13-15). And what was the exhortation of both my mother and the apostle Peter? "So we have the prophetic word strongly confirmed. You will do well to pay attention to it, as a lamp shining in a dismal place, until the day dawns and the morning star arises in your hearts" (2 Peter 1:19).
My mother's eyes shone with the light of eternity when she spoke her benediction and shared her hope. As I listened to her voice, I heard an echo of the angels' voices when Jesus was taken up into heaven, "This same Jesus who has been taken from you into heaven, will come in the same way that you have seen Him going into heaven" (Acts 1:11). I add my prayer to that of my mother--that all my descendants would know Jesus Christ as their Savior, that they would walk in the truth, love each other fervently and keep their eyes on the Eastern sky.
We gathered to celebrate my mother's ninetieth birthday. Her nine children and their spouses surrounded her as she opened her gifts. After the last gift was opened my mother stood to speak. Mother shared with us her prayer, her blessing, her benediction for her children, her grandchildren and her great grandchildren. We all know the prayer by heart, For many of us it is the prayer that we now pray for our children and grandchildren and one day for our great grandchildren.
Mother said, "I ask God for one hundred fold, that all my descendants will know Jesus Christ as their Savior. I pray that you will walk in the truth. I pray that you will fervently love each other." Mother then spoke of the blessed hope that she has, the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ. This blessed hope of the second coming of Jesus was passed from her grandmother Nell Gillespie to her father and mother and then to her. It was urgent to mother that this baton which had been passed down to her should be passed onto the next generation.
Jesus' first coming was spoken of as, "the tender mercies of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace" (Luke 2:78,79). The Dawn came and the light shown, yet there were many who chose to stay in the darkness because they rejected the truth. They were unlike Simeon who was looking forward to and waiting for the promised coming of the Messiah.
The exhortation my ninety-year-old mother gave to her children is an echo of what Peter said. "I think it right as long as I am in this body to stir you up by way of reminder, since I know that the putting off of my body will be soon, as our Lord Jesus Christ made clear to me. And I will make every effort so that after my departure you may be able at any time to recall these things" (2 Peter:13-15). And what was the exhortation of both my mother and the apostle Peter? "So we have the prophetic word strongly confirmed. You will do well to pay attention to it, as a lamp shining in a dismal place, until the day dawns and the morning star arises in your hearts" (2 Peter 1:19).
My mother's eyes shone with the light of eternity when she spoke her benediction and shared her hope. As I listened to her voice, I heard an echo of the angels' voices when Jesus was taken up into heaven, "This same Jesus who has been taken from you into heaven, will come in the same way that you have seen Him going into heaven" (Acts 1:11). I add my prayer to that of my mother--that all my descendants would know Jesus Christ as their Savior, that they would walk in the truth, love each other fervently and keep their eyes on the Eastern sky.
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
The Message of Christmas
For some, the joy of Christmas is eclipsed by sadness.
I know many this year over whom death has cast a shadow. They saw the date approaching and simply wished that they could skip Christmas this year. But the first Christmas came because of the tender mercies of our God. His light shown into our darkness with the promise of eternal life.
For some, Christmas reminds them of their failures. Their life has been broken by choices they have made. The smiling faces around them only intensify the pain of their own broken heart. But the first Christmas came because God wanted His people to know that the Deliverer had come. There was forgiveness for their sins. Christmas represents the breaking of the curse.
One of the consciences of a broken heart is loneliness. This is a loneliness that cannot be remedied no matter how many people surround you. This loneliness can be reinforced during this season if the truth is forgotten. What is the truth? The truth is that Most High God dwells in the highest heaven and with those who have a broken and contrite heart.
The true promise of Christmas is that the Dawn from on high has visited us. There is no need to sit in the darkness because He has come to shine His light on us. He has come to guide our feet into the way of peace.
The message of Christmas was meant to bring comfort to those who grieve. The message of Christmas is that the Deliver has come to set us free because we could not free ourselves. The message of Christmas is that the light has overcame the darkness. If you listen carefully you will hear the message of Christmas. The message is that we don't have to be afraid. There is good news of great joy. We have a Savior.
I know many this year over whom death has cast a shadow. They saw the date approaching and simply wished that they could skip Christmas this year. But the first Christmas came because of the tender mercies of our God. His light shown into our darkness with the promise of eternal life.
For some, Christmas reminds them of their failures. Their life has been broken by choices they have made. The smiling faces around them only intensify the pain of their own broken heart. But the first Christmas came because God wanted His people to know that the Deliverer had come. There was forgiveness for their sins. Christmas represents the breaking of the curse.
One of the consciences of a broken heart is loneliness. This is a loneliness that cannot be remedied no matter how many people surround you. This loneliness can be reinforced during this season if the truth is forgotten. What is the truth? The truth is that Most High God dwells in the highest heaven and with those who have a broken and contrite heart.
The true promise of Christmas is that the Dawn from on high has visited us. There is no need to sit in the darkness because He has come to shine His light on us. He has come to guide our feet into the way of peace.
The message of Christmas was meant to bring comfort to those who grieve. The message of Christmas is that the Deliver has come to set us free because we could not free ourselves. The message of Christmas is that the light has overcame the darkness. If you listen carefully you will hear the message of Christmas. The message is that we don't have to be afraid. There is good news of great joy. We have a Savior.
Thursday, December 8, 2016
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
Meditations of a Pregnant Woman at Christmastime
I remember just sitting there staring into the mirror.
The year was 1988. It was Christmas time and I was nine months pregnant. I was also exhausted. Staring into mirror, I wondered how on earth was I supposed to do it all? It was hard enough to carry out my basic responsibilities without the added pressure that Christmas brings a mother of young children. So there I sat, staring at myself and complaining to God.
I groaned when I thought about how uncomfortable the forty-five minute car ride to church would be. And that's when it happened. Suddenly, sitting there, I began to think about Mary as she prepared to leave home and begin the long journey between Nazareth and Bethlehem. A journey that could possibly take up to four days and be ninety miles long.
Nine months earlier Gabriel had come to her with the message that she would give birth to the Son of the Most High. But there were a lot of details that were not included. Like, for instance, at the time when Gabriel appeared to Mary she didn't know that the birth of the Son of God wasn't a public announcement. What she was told, however, was that she was not to be afraid because she had found favor with God.
Gabriel told Mary that God would give her son the throne of His father David and that He would reign over the house of Jacob forever; and His kingdom would have no end. However, there was no mention of the fact that, when the time came for Mary to give birth in David's hometown, the only place available would be a stable surrounded by animals.
Sitting there, staring into the mirror, my heart began to rejoice because I realized that the same promise that had been given to Mary so long ago had been given to me as well. I heard echoing in my heart and spirit the words of Gabriel, "Rejoice, favored woman! The Lord is with you." There are so many details of my life that I don't know or understand, but when I meditate on this promise that the Lord is with me, my soul magnifies the Lord and my heart rejoices in God my Savior.
The year was 1988. It was Christmas time and I was nine months pregnant. I was also exhausted. Staring into mirror, I wondered how on earth was I supposed to do it all? It was hard enough to carry out my basic responsibilities without the added pressure that Christmas brings a mother of young children. So there I sat, staring at myself and complaining to God.
I groaned when I thought about how uncomfortable the forty-five minute car ride to church would be. And that's when it happened. Suddenly, sitting there, I began to think about Mary as she prepared to leave home and begin the long journey between Nazareth and Bethlehem. A journey that could possibly take up to four days and be ninety miles long.
Nine months earlier Gabriel had come to her with the message that she would give birth to the Son of the Most High. But there were a lot of details that were not included. Like, for instance, at the time when Gabriel appeared to Mary she didn't know that the birth of the Son of God wasn't a public announcement. What she was told, however, was that she was not to be afraid because she had found favor with God.
Gabriel told Mary that God would give her son the throne of His father David and that He would reign over the house of Jacob forever; and His kingdom would have no end. However, there was no mention of the fact that, when the time came for Mary to give birth in David's hometown, the only place available would be a stable surrounded by animals.
Sitting there, staring into the mirror, my heart began to rejoice because I realized that the same promise that had been given to Mary so long ago had been given to me as well. I heard echoing in my heart and spirit the words of Gabriel, "Rejoice, favored woman! The Lord is with you." There are so many details of my life that I don't know or understand, but when I meditate on this promise that the Lord is with me, my soul magnifies the Lord and my heart rejoices in God my Savior.
Saturday, November 26, 2016
Beyond the Horizon
Look beyond the horizon where time and eternity meet. If you are in need of encouragement look there.
I have been preparing the classes that I will be teaching on Daniel this January. One of the ways I've been studying is to read and listen to the visions Daniel had until I can picture them in my mind. Then when I have trouble sleeping I review the visions that Daniel had when he was lying on his bed while I'm lying in my bed. I picture the four winds of the heaven stirring up the great sea. I watch the panorama of world kingdoms parade before me until One who is like a son of man comes with the clouds and approaches the Ancient of Days.
I find courage as I contemplate the now but not yet of the everlasting kingdom. Wrapped in the darkness of the night I let the promise bathe my mind that the kingdom, dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom under all of heaven will be given to the people, the holy ones of the Most High God. I am aware of wars and rumors of war, yet my hope has found its anchor beyond the veil where the Prince of Peace reigns. "His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and His kingdom is one that will not be destroyed" (Daniel 7:14).
My studies take me beyond the seventh chapter in Daniel as I compare the visions there to the ones I find in Revelation 12 and 13. Again, reading and listening to these chapters until I can see them with my mind's eye, I am aware of the kingdom of God that is both present and yet future. I recognize both the victory that has been given but the battle that must still be fought as well. The battle against the ancient enemy who accuses the saints before the throne of God day and night is won by "the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony" (Revelation 12:11).
To look beyond the horizon to where time and eternity meet is to understand that, though the battle we fight is real, the victory has already been attained. Here we find endurance. Here we find what we hope for. And here we place our confidence in what we do not yet see.
I have been preparing the classes that I will be teaching on Daniel this January. One of the ways I've been studying is to read and listen to the visions Daniel had until I can picture them in my mind. Then when I have trouble sleeping I review the visions that Daniel had when he was lying on his bed while I'm lying in my bed. I picture the four winds of the heaven stirring up the great sea. I watch the panorama of world kingdoms parade before me until One who is like a son of man comes with the clouds and approaches the Ancient of Days.
I find courage as I contemplate the now but not yet of the everlasting kingdom. Wrapped in the darkness of the night I let the promise bathe my mind that the kingdom, dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom under all of heaven will be given to the people, the holy ones of the Most High God. I am aware of wars and rumors of war, yet my hope has found its anchor beyond the veil where the Prince of Peace reigns. "His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and His kingdom is one that will not be destroyed" (Daniel 7:14).
My studies take me beyond the seventh chapter in Daniel as I compare the visions there to the ones I find in Revelation 12 and 13. Again, reading and listening to these chapters until I can see them with my mind's eye, I am aware of the kingdom of God that is both present and yet future. I recognize both the victory that has been given but the battle that must still be fought as well. The battle against the ancient enemy who accuses the saints before the throne of God day and night is won by "the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony" (Revelation 12:11).
To look beyond the horizon to where time and eternity meet is to understand that, though the battle we fight is real, the victory has already been attained. Here we find endurance. Here we find what we hope for. And here we place our confidence in what we do not yet see.
Wednesday, November 23, 2016
When Darkness Calls Grace Responds
"Hello darkness my old friend. I'm here to talk to you again." No! Darkness is not my friend, and, Simon and Garfunkel, get out out of my head with that song of yours. Every year it's the same; even though I am determined that seasonal affect disorder is fake, I find myself sucked into a vortex of despair.
Darkness is not my friend, it is my sparring partner. It's not like the noble art of fencing; no, it's more of a wrestling match. It involves clinch fighting, throws and take downs, joint-locks, with my opponent constantly finding and taking advantage of my weaknesses. Sometimes I just want to give up because I just don't want to fight anymore. I want to say, "I'm tired. You win. Close the curtains. Darkness, come on in." When I've used up all my hoarded resources, I have to find help outside myself.
Earlier this week I found myself bruised, with my joints out of their sockets from wrestling with depression. I felt like I was just about to be pinned to the mat. Because my enemy had been in such close proximity, he had been whispering gloom, despair and agony into my ears. When I cried out for help I heard the voice of kindness respond, "You don't have to fight this battle on your own. Lean on me."
I felt exhausted and exposed from my wrestling match, so I was grateful to find refuge in the truth that I was not alone. Leaning on a strength that was not my own, I began to find my heart bathed in light. As I filled my mind with the words of my Savior I found that His goodwill was sufficient for me. Because of my weakness I was able to experience His strength in a more perfect way.
As I drew near to this source of strength, I found that He had drawn nearer to me. Leaning towards this grace when I felt so in need of something other than myself, I experienced a spark of joy. There is a sense of rejoicing even in the suffering because, if I didn't suffer with this depression every year, I would be able to be self-reliant. But I'm not. Instead, year after year I have had to patiently endure and lean towards grace. But something happens when you are in close proximity to the light. You are changed. So I choose to rejoice when year after year I face my weakness, because I don't face it alone. Because of my Savior, when I am weak I become strong--because He is with me.
Darkness is not my friend, it is my sparring partner. It's not like the noble art of fencing; no, it's more of a wrestling match. It involves clinch fighting, throws and take downs, joint-locks, with my opponent constantly finding and taking advantage of my weaknesses. Sometimes I just want to give up because I just don't want to fight anymore. I want to say, "I'm tired. You win. Close the curtains. Darkness, come on in." When I've used up all my hoarded resources, I have to find help outside myself.
Earlier this week I found myself bruised, with my joints out of their sockets from wrestling with depression. I felt like I was just about to be pinned to the mat. Because my enemy had been in such close proximity, he had been whispering gloom, despair and agony into my ears. When I cried out for help I heard the voice of kindness respond, "You don't have to fight this battle on your own. Lean on me."
I felt exhausted and exposed from my wrestling match, so I was grateful to find refuge in the truth that I was not alone. Leaning on a strength that was not my own, I began to find my heart bathed in light. As I filled my mind with the words of my Savior I found that His goodwill was sufficient for me. Because of my weakness I was able to experience His strength in a more perfect way.
As I drew near to this source of strength, I found that He had drawn nearer to me. Leaning towards this grace when I felt so in need of something other than myself, I experienced a spark of joy. There is a sense of rejoicing even in the suffering because, if I didn't suffer with this depression every year, I would be able to be self-reliant. But I'm not. Instead, year after year I have had to patiently endure and lean towards grace. But something happens when you are in close proximity to the light. You are changed. So I choose to rejoice when year after year I face my weakness, because I don't face it alone. Because of my Savior, when I am weak I become strong--because He is with me.
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
Seeing the Unseen
"You will only be able to do this if you close your eyes. You will need to visualize the muscles around your mouth working independently from the rest of your face." These were the directions I received from my physical therapist. After my brain surgery my face was paralyzed for several months. This trauma caused my facial nerves to rewire so that even after the paralysis was gone my face was permanently altered.
Because of the rewired nerves, the muscles around my mouth are connected to the muscles in my cheek and my eye and my neck. The therapist told me that I could retrain my brain to overcome this misfiring of the muscles. Looking in the mirror and trying to do the exercise she had given me seemed utterly hopeless, and I would have just given up if I had not talked to others whom she had helped. If I was ever to get better I had to close my eyes and believe that things could be different from what I saw in the mirror.
Recently I have been suffering from spiritual paralysis. This sometimes happens when I become overwhelmed by the suffering and hurt I feel and see around me. To overcome this paralysis of spirit and soul I have to fix my eyes not on what is seen but on what is unseen. I must look beyond the temporary and focus on what is unseen and eternal.
My physical therapy involves not only believing that healing can take place in my face, but also doing the exercises prescribed. In the same way, in order to overcome spiritual paralysis I have to act on what I believe. By faith I choose to rejoice in hope because I believe that God is at work. Focused not on what I see with my earthly eyes but what I perceive with my spiritual eyes, I rejoice in suffering knowing that the testing of my faith produces endurance. Endurance must do its complete work, so that in the end I may be mature and complete, lacking nothing.
One of the reasons I was willing to even listen to the therapist was that first I had talked to someone else she had helped. In the same way my faith is strengthened when I read about the heroes of faith. Some were miraculous spared others were not, but what they all had in common was that their focus not on what is seen but unseen. Because I am surrounded by this great cloud of witnesses who chose to live by faith and not by sight I too choose to lay aside the doubts and not let what I see cause me to be discouraged. I choose instead to fix my eyes on Jesus.
Because of the rewired nerves, the muscles around my mouth are connected to the muscles in my cheek and my eye and my neck. The therapist told me that I could retrain my brain to overcome this misfiring of the muscles. Looking in the mirror and trying to do the exercise she had given me seemed utterly hopeless, and I would have just given up if I had not talked to others whom she had helped. If I was ever to get better I had to close my eyes and believe that things could be different from what I saw in the mirror.
Recently I have been suffering from spiritual paralysis. This sometimes happens when I become overwhelmed by the suffering and hurt I feel and see around me. To overcome this paralysis of spirit and soul I have to fix my eyes not on what is seen but on what is unseen. I must look beyond the temporary and focus on what is unseen and eternal.
My physical therapy involves not only believing that healing can take place in my face, but also doing the exercises prescribed. In the same way, in order to overcome spiritual paralysis I have to act on what I believe. By faith I choose to rejoice in hope because I believe that God is at work. Focused not on what I see with my earthly eyes but what I perceive with my spiritual eyes, I rejoice in suffering knowing that the testing of my faith produces endurance. Endurance must do its complete work, so that in the end I may be mature and complete, lacking nothing.
One of the reasons I was willing to even listen to the therapist was that first I had talked to someone else she had helped. In the same way my faith is strengthened when I read about the heroes of faith. Some were miraculous spared others were not, but what they all had in common was that their focus not on what is seen but unseen. Because I am surrounded by this great cloud of witnesses who chose to live by faith and not by sight I too choose to lay aside the doubts and not let what I see cause me to be discouraged. I choose instead to fix my eyes on Jesus.
Saturday, November 19, 2016
Seeing the Unseen
"You will only be able to do this if you close your eyes. You will need to visualize the muscles around your mouth working independently from the rest of your face." These were the directions I received from my physical therapist. After my brain surgery my face was paralyzed for several months. This trauma caused my facial nerves to rewire so that even after the paralysis was gone my face was permanently altered.
Because of the rewired nerves, the muscles around my mouth are connected to the muscles in my cheek and my eye and my neck. The therapist told me that I could retrain my brain to overcome this misfiring of the muscles. Looking in the mirror and trying to do the exercise she had given me seemed utterly hopeless, and I would have just given up if I had not talked to others whom she had helped. If I was ever to get better I had to close my eyes and believe that things could be different from what I saw in the mirror.
Recently I have been suffering from spiritual paralysis. This sometimes happens when I become overwhelmed by the suffering and hurt I feel and see around me. To overcome this paralysis of spirit and soul I have to fix my eyes not on what is seen but on what is unseen. I must look beyond the temporary and focus on what is unseen and eternal.
My physical therapy involves not only believing that healing can take place in my face, but also doing the exercises prescribed. In the same way, in order to overcome spiritual paralysis I have to act on what I believe. By faith I choose to rejoice in hope because I believe that God is at work. Focused not on what I see with my earthly eyes but what I perceive with my spiritual eyes, I rejoice in suffering knowing that the testing of my faith produces endurance. Endurance must do its complete work, so that in the end I may be mature and complete, lacking nothing.
One of the reasons I was willing to even listen to the therapist was that first I had talked to someone else she had helped. In the same way my faith is strengthened when I read about the heroes of faith. Some were miraculous spared others were not, but what they all had in common was that their focus not on what is seen but unseen. Because I am surrounded by this great cloud of witnesses who chose to live by faith and not by sight I too choose to lay aside the doubts and not let what I see cause me to be discouraged. I choose instead to fix my eyes on Jesus.
Because of the rewired nerves, the muscles around my mouth are connected to the muscles in my cheek and my eye and my neck. The therapist told me that I could retrain my brain to overcome this misfiring of the muscles. Looking in the mirror and trying to do the exercise she had given me seemed utterly hopeless, and I would have just given up if I had not talked to others whom she had helped. If I was ever to get better I had to close my eyes and believe that things could be different from what I saw in the mirror.
Recently I have been suffering from spiritual paralysis. This sometimes happens when I become overwhelmed by the suffering and hurt I feel and see around me. To overcome this paralysis of spirit and soul I have to fix my eyes not on what is seen but on what is unseen. I must look beyond the temporary and focus on what is unseen and eternal.
My physical therapy involves not only believing that healing can take place in my face, but also doing the exercises prescribed. In the same way, in order to overcome spiritual paralysis I have to act on what I believe. By faith I choose to rejoice in hope because I believe that God is at work. Focused not on what I see with my earthly eyes but what I perceive with my spiritual eyes, I rejoice in suffering knowing that the testing of my faith produces endurance. Endurance must do its complete work, so that in the end I may be mature and complete, lacking nothing.
One of the reasons I was willing to even listen to the therapist was that first I had talked to someone else she had helped. In the same way my faith is strengthened when I read about the heroes of faith. Some were miraculous spared others were not, but what they all had in common was that their focus not on what is seen but unseen. Because I am surrounded by this great cloud of witnesses who chose to live by faith and not by sight I too choose to lay aside the doubts and not let what I see cause me to be discouraged. I choose instead to fix my eyes on Jesus.
Saturday, October 29, 2016
When I'm On My Knees
When I'm on my knees before the King of heaven, all of life is translated according to His glory. The roar of angry voices is hushed by reverent silence. The clamor of those who want to dominate others ceases because of the presence of His Majesty. The truth can be clearly seen. The Most High God is ruler over the kingdom of men, and He alone places over it anyone He wants and He sets over it even the lowliest of men.
When I'm on my knees I recognize that the Lord has established His throne in heaven, and His kingdom rules over all. The inhabitants of earth, though puffed up with pride, are counted as nothing. The Lord of Hosts does what He wants with the army of heaven and with the inhabitants of the earth. There is no one who can hold back His hand or say to Him, "What have You done?" The King of heaven is able to humble those who walk in pride.
In His presence I hear the roar of crashing thunder, but when I'm on my knees the sound of thunder becomes the gentle voice of my heavenly father inviting me to call on Him, to come and pray to Him. With the invitation comes the promise that the Most High God will listen to me and that when I seek Him with all my heart I will not be disappointed. The King of heaven resists the proud but gives grace to the humble.
On this side of eternity there is so much I cannot understand and often my eyesight is dimmed by tears. But when I humble myself and bow my knees and look at life through the lens of faith, I recognize that though the way is dark to me Light dwells with Him. When all of life is translated by His glory I can at last see He never makes a mistake.
When I was young I thought of God as though He was a secret ingredient that I could add to the recipe of my life to make it more pleasant. But now in awe I realize the truth: The same God who is sovereign over the kingdom of men is also sovereign over the details of my life. When I'm on my knees before the King of heaven I can at last see that He humbled Himself and became a man so that I could become a citizen of the kingdom of heaven.
When I'm on my knees I recognize that the Lord has established His throne in heaven, and His kingdom rules over all. The inhabitants of earth, though puffed up with pride, are counted as nothing. The Lord of Hosts does what He wants with the army of heaven and with the inhabitants of the earth. There is no one who can hold back His hand or say to Him, "What have You done?" The King of heaven is able to humble those who walk in pride.
In His presence I hear the roar of crashing thunder, but when I'm on my knees the sound of thunder becomes the gentle voice of my heavenly father inviting me to call on Him, to come and pray to Him. With the invitation comes the promise that the Most High God will listen to me and that when I seek Him with all my heart I will not be disappointed. The King of heaven resists the proud but gives grace to the humble.
On this side of eternity there is so much I cannot understand and often my eyesight is dimmed by tears. But when I humble myself and bow my knees and look at life through the lens of faith, I recognize that though the way is dark to me Light dwells with Him. When all of life is translated by His glory I can at last see He never makes a mistake.
When I was young I thought of God as though He was a secret ingredient that I could add to the recipe of my life to make it more pleasant. But now in awe I realize the truth: The same God who is sovereign over the kingdom of men is also sovereign over the details of my life. When I'm on my knees before the King of heaven I can at last see that He humbled Himself and became a man so that I could become a citizen of the kingdom of heaven.
Saturday, October 15, 2016
The Mystery
In a time of turmoil. I lift my eyes to the One enthroned in heaven. The curtains of heaven are pulled aside and I see Him, the Ancient of Days. He reveals the deep and hidden things; He alone knows what is in the darkness, and light dwells with Him. He is seated on a throne of flaming fire. A river of fire flows out from His presence. Thousands upon thousands serve Him; ten thousands upon ten thousands stand before Him. In a time of turmoil I lift my eyes to the King of Heaven.
Humbled by His glory, my soul at last finds rest in the presence of the One to whom I give my sole allegiance. He is the God of gods, He is the Lord of kings, He is the revealer of mysteries. The secret things belong to the Lord and yet He in His kindness has chosen to reveal His mysteries in His word.
With the eyes of my flesh I see the instability of the times in which I live. There is great disturbance, confusion and uncertainty. Nature itself seems to be reflecting the disorder I see around me. But when I listen to the thundering voice of the Most High God, I realize the truth. His kingdom is the only eternal kingdom, and He alone has dominion from generation to generation. With Him there is wisdom and power. He changes the times and seasons; He removes kings and establishes kings.
The nations with prideful wrath seem to raise their fist to the One who sits enthroned in heaven. In rebellion they take their stand and cry out with one voice, "We are free from Your restraints! You have no power over us!" But the King of Heaven only laughs and ridicules them. He knows the truth. The Most High is ruler over the kingdom of men. He gives it to anyone He wants and sets over it the lowliest of men.
There is more to the mystery that has been revealed. As I open His book I see the vision given to Daniel. I too see One like a son of man coming with the clouds of heaven. I see Him approaching the Ancient of Days. He has been given authority to rule, and glory, and a kingdom; those of every people, nation, and language will serve Him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and His kingdom is one that will not be destroyed.
I fall to my knees and add my voice of those who cry out, "Even so come now, Lord Jesus!"
Humbled by His glory, my soul at last finds rest in the presence of the One to whom I give my sole allegiance. He is the God of gods, He is the Lord of kings, He is the revealer of mysteries. The secret things belong to the Lord and yet He in His kindness has chosen to reveal His mysteries in His word.
With the eyes of my flesh I see the instability of the times in which I live. There is great disturbance, confusion and uncertainty. Nature itself seems to be reflecting the disorder I see around me. But when I listen to the thundering voice of the Most High God, I realize the truth. His kingdom is the only eternal kingdom, and He alone has dominion from generation to generation. With Him there is wisdom and power. He changes the times and seasons; He removes kings and establishes kings.
The nations with prideful wrath seem to raise their fist to the One who sits enthroned in heaven. In rebellion they take their stand and cry out with one voice, "We are free from Your restraints! You have no power over us!" But the King of Heaven only laughs and ridicules them. He knows the truth. The Most High is ruler over the kingdom of men. He gives it to anyone He wants and sets over it the lowliest of men.
There is more to the mystery that has been revealed. As I open His book I see the vision given to Daniel. I too see One like a son of man coming with the clouds of heaven. I see Him approaching the Ancient of Days. He has been given authority to rule, and glory, and a kingdom; those of every people, nation, and language will serve Him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and His kingdom is one that will not be destroyed.
I fall to my knees and add my voice of those who cry out, "Even so come now, Lord Jesus!"
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
A Year Later
It was a hard year. It was a year of change. There were things that I had always taken for granted about my identity that I never thought would change, but they did. For example, last year when I had my brain surgery and my right auditory nerve was severed, I had no idea how isolated I would feel in a crowd. Losing the ability to hear much of what was being said has caused me to often feel alone even when surrounded by people. My severed balance nerve has caused me to feel a vulnerability I've never known before. A certain amount of confidence is lost when you're concerned about losing your balance. The expression to "lose face" means to be humiliated. To have your facial identity altered is hard; even though it has improved, it's still hard. But there are some things that haven't changed.
I remember last year when they rolled the gurney into the operating room. I saw all the people there, all the bright lights. I remember thinking how small the operating table seemed and how I didn't think I should still be conscious. Once I was placed on the operating table the head anesthesiologist began giving instructions about tilting my head back and holding me still. I could feel the panic rising in me. I also remember the prayer I prayed, "Jesus, take me to a place where my faith has no boundaries!"
I have found that a place where faith is without limits is best found when what you believe is tested. When I looked into the mirror shortly after surgery and I didn't recognize my own face I felt sick. My basic sense of identity was stripped away. But I have a deeper identity that I held on to. I found refuge and strength in the God who loves me; who promised to never leave me or forsake me.
When I woke up in the recovery room after surgery I experienced a thirst I had never known before. It was then I had a vision. I have been asked if perhaps it was a drug-induced hallucination; the truth is, I don't know. But what I do know is that what I saw so vividly then has stayed with me every day since. This is what I saw. I saw Jesus crying out, "If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water." My physical thirst was maddening, but in coming to Jesus I found the deepest thirst of my soul and spirit quenched.
A year has passed; a year of change, a difficult year, and yet it's also been a year when I have begun to experience a boundless trust empowered by the Spirit of God. The promise I received in the recovery room was not only that my thirst would be satisfied, but that "out of my heart would flow rivers of living water." Because what I saw was based on what I read in the the seventh chapter of John, I believe that it is true. I am grateful that living water can flow from broken vessels.
I remember last year when they rolled the gurney into the operating room. I saw all the people there, all the bright lights. I remember thinking how small the operating table seemed and how I didn't think I should still be conscious. Once I was placed on the operating table the head anesthesiologist began giving instructions about tilting my head back and holding me still. I could feel the panic rising in me. I also remember the prayer I prayed, "Jesus, take me to a place where my faith has no boundaries!"
I have found that a place where faith is without limits is best found when what you believe is tested. When I looked into the mirror shortly after surgery and I didn't recognize my own face I felt sick. My basic sense of identity was stripped away. But I have a deeper identity that I held on to. I found refuge and strength in the God who loves me; who promised to never leave me or forsake me.
When I woke up in the recovery room after surgery I experienced a thirst I had never known before. It was then I had a vision. I have been asked if perhaps it was a drug-induced hallucination; the truth is, I don't know. But what I do know is that what I saw so vividly then has stayed with me every day since. This is what I saw. I saw Jesus crying out, "If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water." My physical thirst was maddening, but in coming to Jesus I found the deepest thirst of my soul and spirit quenched.
A year has passed; a year of change, a difficult year, and yet it's also been a year when I have begun to experience a boundless trust empowered by the Spirit of God. The promise I received in the recovery room was not only that my thirst would be satisfied, but that "out of my heart would flow rivers of living water." Because what I saw was based on what I read in the the seventh chapter of John, I believe that it is true. I am grateful that living water can flow from broken vessels.
Sunday, September 11, 2016
Peace When Your World Unravels
It all began with a negative thought no more significant than a tiny thread. But in the same way that a whole garment can become unraveled by pulling on a loose thread, my world felt like it was being ripped apart. Insignificant worries gave way to significant worries. My lack of control over personal concerns deepened into a world that felt as if it was spinning out of control.
I wanted and needed to change the direction of my thoughts, so I closed my physical eyes and opened the eyes of my spirit. I chose to meditate on the One who made everything; who stretched out the heavens by Himself; who alone spread out the earth. I found comfort in the God who established the earth and fixed its dimensions. I found rest in the strength of the One who supports the foundations of the earth. The God who laid the cornerstone while the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy!
My mind and soul and spirit was bathed in the light of His majesty and splendor. There was no room for any other thought as I meditated on the God who measured the waters in the hollow of His hand and marked off the heavens with the span of His hand. He brings out the starry hosts by number; He calls all of them by name. Because of His great power and strength, not one of them is missing. He is the everlasting God, the Creator of the whole earth, and He knows my name.
This is the same God to whom wisdom and power belongs. He is able to change times and seasons; He removes kings and establishes kings. He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who have understanding. He reveals the deep and hidden things; He knows what is in the darkness, and light dwells with Him. Though He is the Almighty Lord of the Universe, He is also a loving Father. Even as a father stoops down to hear the voice of his child, in the same way my heavenly father has invited me to pour out my heart to Him in prayer.
I know that sometimes the earth trembles and that there have been times when the mountains have toppled into the depths of the sea. The waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with its turmoil. Nations rage, kingdoms topple; and war brings devastation to the earth. It is in times like these when my world seems to be unraveling that I hear the voice of the Spirit speak to my spirit, "Be still, and know that I am God. I will be your refuge and strength, a helper who is always found in times of trouble. Do not be afraid."
Job 38, Isaiah 40, Daniel 2, Psalm 46
I wanted and needed to change the direction of my thoughts, so I closed my physical eyes and opened the eyes of my spirit. I chose to meditate on the One who made everything; who stretched out the heavens by Himself; who alone spread out the earth. I found comfort in the God who established the earth and fixed its dimensions. I found rest in the strength of the One who supports the foundations of the earth. The God who laid the cornerstone while the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy!
My mind and soul and spirit was bathed in the light of His majesty and splendor. There was no room for any other thought as I meditated on the God who measured the waters in the hollow of His hand and marked off the heavens with the span of His hand. He brings out the starry hosts by number; He calls all of them by name. Because of His great power and strength, not one of them is missing. He is the everlasting God, the Creator of the whole earth, and He knows my name.
This is the same God to whom wisdom and power belongs. He is able to change times and seasons; He removes kings and establishes kings. He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who have understanding. He reveals the deep and hidden things; He knows what is in the darkness, and light dwells with Him. Though He is the Almighty Lord of the Universe, He is also a loving Father. Even as a father stoops down to hear the voice of his child, in the same way my heavenly father has invited me to pour out my heart to Him in prayer.
I know that sometimes the earth trembles and that there have been times when the mountains have toppled into the depths of the sea. The waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with its turmoil. Nations rage, kingdoms topple; and war brings devastation to the earth. It is in times like these when my world seems to be unraveling that I hear the voice of the Spirit speak to my spirit, "Be still, and know that I am God. I will be your refuge and strength, a helper who is always found in times of trouble. Do not be afraid."
Job 38, Isaiah 40, Daniel 2, Psalm 46
Saturday, September 3, 2016
The Lost Power Cord
"I can't find the power cord!" With those words of panic a cyclone hit my home. It was a rapidly rotating storm with strong emotional winds.
The power cord had been attached to my computer but somehow the two had ended up in different parts of the house. The homework was about to be lost because the battery was dying. If we didn't find the power cord we wouldn't be able to print the work that had been done and all would be lost! Frantic energy was produced by the panic and I watched as my grandson ran from one room to another in a whirl of emotion. I found myself caught up in the intensity of the storm.
Earlier that day I had told my grandson how God had revealed a mystery to Daniel. I had explained to Jack how Daniel had prayed to God seeking understanding that only God could give him. When God answered Daniel's prayers Daniel had praised God by saying, "He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who have understanding. He reveals the deep and hidden things; He knows what is in the darkness, and light dwells with Him." (Daniel 2:21-23) I had told my grandson that we had access to the same God Daniel did, yet when we couldn't find the power cord I panicked.
In the midst of the crazy I prayed a simple prayer,"Help!" Next, I went to my grandson and reminded him of what we had read that morning. I asked if he would join me in asking the God who reveals the deep and hidden things to show us where the power cord was. To be honest, I was a little nervous. Did I really believe that God cared about such a small matter?
Jack and I prayed together. Then we stood for a few minutes in silence and Jack said, "I think Uncle Dave took the cord." He went onto explain that the last time he'd seen the cord it had been on the same table as Uncle Dave's computer. He thought perhaps Uncle Dave had gathered up my cord when he left.
We found out later that day that Jack was right. We didn't get the cord in time to print off his homework. However, the emotional storm was abated when we experienced the truth that we really do have access to a merciful God who reveals mysteries.
The power cord had been attached to my computer but somehow the two had ended up in different parts of the house. The homework was about to be lost because the battery was dying. If we didn't find the power cord we wouldn't be able to print the work that had been done and all would be lost! Frantic energy was produced by the panic and I watched as my grandson ran from one room to another in a whirl of emotion. I found myself caught up in the intensity of the storm.
Earlier that day I had told my grandson how God had revealed a mystery to Daniel. I had explained to Jack how Daniel had prayed to God seeking understanding that only God could give him. When God answered Daniel's prayers Daniel had praised God by saying, "He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who have understanding. He reveals the deep and hidden things; He knows what is in the darkness, and light dwells with Him." (Daniel 2:21-23) I had told my grandson that we had access to the same God Daniel did, yet when we couldn't find the power cord I panicked.
In the midst of the crazy I prayed a simple prayer,"Help!" Next, I went to my grandson and reminded him of what we had read that morning. I asked if he would join me in asking the God who reveals the deep and hidden things to show us where the power cord was. To be honest, I was a little nervous. Did I really believe that God cared about such a small matter?
Jack and I prayed together. Then we stood for a few minutes in silence and Jack said, "I think Uncle Dave took the cord." He went onto explain that the last time he'd seen the cord it had been on the same table as Uncle Dave's computer. He thought perhaps Uncle Dave had gathered up my cord when he left.
We found out later that day that Jack was right. We didn't get the cord in time to print off his homework. However, the emotional storm was abated when we experienced the truth that we really do have access to a merciful God who reveals mysteries.
Saturday, August 13, 2016
Fifty Years
I did the math and was surprised to see that it's been fifty years. I can remember so vividly the afternoon that I told my mother I wanted to have more faith. She didn't even hesitate, she simply told me that if I wanted to have more faith I could find it by reading God's word.
The next morning at 5 a.m. my mother came quietly into my room without even turning on a light. She whispered into my ear,"If you want to have more faith, get up." Then she tiptoed out. My eyes opened and the battle began. My first prayer of the morning was, "God, help me! My spirit is willing but my flesh is weak!" Finally, after praying that prayer several times, I rolled onto the floor and crawled out of my room.
One thing I know for sure, I would have never gotten out of bed that morning if God hadn't answered the desperate prayer of a sleepy thirteen year old girl. But there is another thing I've learned after fifty years of reading through the Bible. It's God who initiates a relationship. In the Old Testament I read, "For the eyes of the LORD range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him" (2 Chronicles 16:9). In the New Testament I read that the Father is seeking those who will worship Him in spirit and in truth.
I confess that over the last fifty years there have been seasons where is was more difficult to respond to God's invitation to know Him than others. When my children were babies and sleep was rare, sometimes I would hold onto a verse. A verse was all my tired brain could grasp. But even a verse when it is lit by God's glory can illumine the darkness.
You would think that reading the same book over and over for fifty years would get old, but it's just the opposite. Every morning I find myself waking with a sense of anticipation. I open God's word and feed my soul and spirit with bread from heaven. I quench my thirst with living water. He wakes me morning by morning and opens my ear like one who is being taught.
I have been wanting to share this ever since I realized that it's been fifty years since that first morning I crawled out of my bedroom begging God to help me. God does the pursuing, but we have the choice to respond to Him or not. I am so grateful that He not only gave me the desire for more faith but also heard my cry for help. He understood that my spirit was willing and that my flesh was weak.
The next morning at 5 a.m. my mother came quietly into my room without even turning on a light. She whispered into my ear,"If you want to have more faith, get up." Then she tiptoed out. My eyes opened and the battle began. My first prayer of the morning was, "God, help me! My spirit is willing but my flesh is weak!" Finally, after praying that prayer several times, I rolled onto the floor and crawled out of my room.
One thing I know for sure, I would have never gotten out of bed that morning if God hadn't answered the desperate prayer of a sleepy thirteen year old girl. But there is another thing I've learned after fifty years of reading through the Bible. It's God who initiates a relationship. In the Old Testament I read, "For the eyes of the LORD range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him" (2 Chronicles 16:9). In the New Testament I read that the Father is seeking those who will worship Him in spirit and in truth.
I confess that over the last fifty years there have been seasons where is was more difficult to respond to God's invitation to know Him than others. When my children were babies and sleep was rare, sometimes I would hold onto a verse. A verse was all my tired brain could grasp. But even a verse when it is lit by God's glory can illumine the darkness.
You would think that reading the same book over and over for fifty years would get old, but it's just the opposite. Every morning I find myself waking with a sense of anticipation. I open God's word and feed my soul and spirit with bread from heaven. I quench my thirst with living water. He wakes me morning by morning and opens my ear like one who is being taught.
I have been wanting to share this ever since I realized that it's been fifty years since that first morning I crawled out of my bedroom begging God to help me. God does the pursuing, but we have the choice to respond to Him or not. I am so grateful that He not only gave me the desire for more faith but also heard my cry for help. He understood that my spirit was willing and that my flesh was weak.
Friday, August 5, 2016
I Can See
I am often asked if I can see with my right eye. Before responding I close my left eye and and check. Then I smile and say, yes.
I went for three months after my surgery unable to close my right eye because my face was paralyzed. It was a miserable experience because my eye refused to close even when I taped it .The only relief I could get was to wear a patch. The eye doctor finally told me that if I didn't do something in the next two weeks I would loose my vision permanently in that eye.
A couple of nights later I woke up and found that I was unable to see anything with that eye. I felt panic rising up in me. The taste of fear made me physically sick. I felt small, alone and afraid. My prayer was short but desperate, "Please, please Lord, don't take my vision!" I had nothing else to say and fell asleep still unable to see.
The next morning I opened my eye and I could see. The terror of the night before had been replaced by a deep sense of gratitude. In the midst of my struggle I knew that the Lord was near. He had not been deaf to my cry for help. The answer to that prayer was like a light shining in the darkness to help me find a path to joy.
Sometimes it's a battle not to be depressed, but when I find myself starting to go in that direction I close my left eye and let the vision in my right eye show me the truth. I have found that gratitude can heal the blindness of sorrow and help you see a pathway to peace.
I went for three months after my surgery unable to close my right eye because my face was paralyzed. It was a miserable experience because my eye refused to close even when I taped it .The only relief I could get was to wear a patch. The eye doctor finally told me that if I didn't do something in the next two weeks I would loose my vision permanently in that eye.
A couple of nights later I woke up and found that I was unable to see anything with that eye. I felt panic rising up in me. The taste of fear made me physically sick. I felt small, alone and afraid. My prayer was short but desperate, "Please, please Lord, don't take my vision!" I had nothing else to say and fell asleep still unable to see.
The next morning I opened my eye and I could see. The terror of the night before had been replaced by a deep sense of gratitude. In the midst of my struggle I knew that the Lord was near. He had not been deaf to my cry for help. The answer to that prayer was like a light shining in the darkness to help me find a path to joy.
Sometimes it's a battle not to be depressed, but when I find myself starting to go in that direction I close my left eye and let the vision in my right eye show me the truth. I have found that gratitude can heal the blindness of sorrow and help you see a pathway to peace.
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
God has Placed Our Tears His Bottle
This past year has been really hard. This month has been particularly hard because I've been discovering some of the permanent ways my brain surgery has altered me. I knew that my right auditory nerve was severed during surgery and that I would no longer be able to hear anything out of that ear. But somehow I missed the fact that my balance nerve was also severed. The right side of my face was completely paralyzed for several months. Although the paralysis was not permanent, the trauma to my face caused a mis-wiring of my facial nerves. The mis-wiring is permanent. But one of the biggest things I'm struggling with is how to honestly process all these changes.
I don't want to be overly righteous and act as if I am not grieving a loss, but on the other hand I don't want to try to keep the spotlight on poor me. What I want to do is to be honest and vulnerable about who I am. This is the pattern I see in the Psalms when the psalmist is honest about his struggles and then points to the true source of comfort.
Psalm 56:8 says, "Record my misery; put my tears in your bottle--are they not in your record?" Then the psalmist goes on to say, "This I know: God is with me." I know without a doubt that I am not alone in my struggles; but the reason I want to share them is because ultimately I want to share the comfort of knowing that no hurt, no grief that we suffer is wasted or goes unnoticed by our heavenly father.
During my lifetime I have experienced an abundance of God's blessing, but these blessings have all been placed in a clay jar. More and more over the years this clay jar has begun to show the wear and tear of time. My prayer is that as this clay jar begins to be broken what is inside would become more visible.
When I was younger I had dreams of the great things I wanted to do for God. Today I pray that His strength might be seen in my weakness. I pray that as I decrease He would increase. I also pray that I will be able to comfort others with the comfort I have received.
Monday, August 1, 2016
Rejoicing in the Storm
I stepped out onto my porch and looked up into the thick darkness of the storm. It was a darkness that I not only saw but felt. Suddenly the heavens resounded with the crashing, booming sound of thunder. Then lightning lit up the world. The wind was so strong it caused the trees to bow. There was power in the storm. But instead of frightening me, the storm caused me to feel a deep sense of peace.
This has been a tumultuous year for me. I have often felt like I was in the middle of a powerful storm. In contrast to its power, I have felt my own vulnerability. At the height of the storm I sought and found refuge in the shelter of the Almighty. The darkness, the booming voice of the thunder, the bright flashes of lightning, caused me to flee for refuge and find strong encouragement to seize the hope that was set before me. As the storm raged around me, I found that my soul had found a sure and firm anchor.
When I am in a safe place, the the sounds of a storm around are transformed from frightening sounds into peaceful sounds. I am reminded of what Job said, "Listen carefully to the thunder of God's voice as it rolls from his mouth." The lightning that illumines the darkness comes at the Almighty's command. From my place of refuge I see the storms in my life as a display of His power.
I have learned to rejoice in the storms because by faith I can see the power of God at work. Sheltered by His love I have learned to endure the stormy nights that seemed to never end. I also found that as I sought refuge in His presence I have been changed. Experiencing God while the wind howled and the rain came relentlessly, my hope grew.
I have not been disappointed by hope because even as the heavens pour out rain I have felt the love of God being poured out into my heart. In the midst of the storm I have encounter the power of the Holy Spirit of God. So, as I see the dark clouds gather and I begin to hear again the rumbling voice of the thunder I smile, because it reminds me of the almighty power of the God who loves me and who is the Lord of the storm.
This has been a tumultuous year for me. I have often felt like I was in the middle of a powerful storm. In contrast to its power, I have felt my own vulnerability. At the height of the storm I sought and found refuge in the shelter of the Almighty. The darkness, the booming voice of the thunder, the bright flashes of lightning, caused me to flee for refuge and find strong encouragement to seize the hope that was set before me. As the storm raged around me, I found that my soul had found a sure and firm anchor.
When I am in a safe place, the the sounds of a storm around are transformed from frightening sounds into peaceful sounds. I am reminded of what Job said, "Listen carefully to the thunder of God's voice as it rolls from his mouth." The lightning that illumines the darkness comes at the Almighty's command. From my place of refuge I see the storms in my life as a display of His power.
I have learned to rejoice in the storms because by faith I can see the power of God at work. Sheltered by His love I have learned to endure the stormy nights that seemed to never end. I also found that as I sought refuge in His presence I have been changed. Experiencing God while the wind howled and the rain came relentlessly, my hope grew.
I have not been disappointed by hope because even as the heavens pour out rain I have felt the love of God being poured out into my heart. In the midst of the storm I have encounter the power of the Holy Spirit of God. So, as I see the dark clouds gather and I begin to hear again the rumbling voice of the thunder I smile, because it reminds me of the almighty power of the God who loves me and who is the Lord of the storm.
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
From the Womb of the Dawn
Shadows of darkness linger in the sky, but as I take my seat I turn my eyes to the East. From the womb of the dawn a new day issues forth. He awakens me morning by morning and opens my ear like one who is being taught... and so I listen.
As I watch the light overtake the darkness, I see that each drop of dew has encapsulated a rainbow. I breathe deeply the fresh moist air of the morning and let the message of hope bathe my spirit in truth. The same God who wraps Himself with light as with a garment has called me out of darkness into His marvelous light.
The freshness of the morning reminds me that I am invited to let go the burdens of yesterday and instead to humble myself and receive the fresh mercies that are being offered. More faithful than the sunrise is the God that I worship. I find rest for my soul in His compassion that never fails.
Each morning in the light of the newborn day I open His word and worship Him in Spirit and unveiled reality. I commune with my Creator and nourish my soul with the bread of heaven. The events of this day are unknown to me, but not to Him. In worship I take hold of the One who holds yesterday, today and tomorrow in His hands.
In His presence I know a peace that passes understanding. As the sky is transformed from light blue to a deep sapphire, I hear a voice from Heaven say, "I am the Alpha and the Omega, the One who is, who was, and who is coming, the Almighty." As I rise to begin my day, I add my voice to the voices of all who believe. "Amen! Come, Lord Jesus!"
As I watch the light overtake the darkness, I see that each drop of dew has encapsulated a rainbow. I breathe deeply the fresh moist air of the morning and let the message of hope bathe my spirit in truth. The same God who wraps Himself with light as with a garment has called me out of darkness into His marvelous light.
The freshness of the morning reminds me that I am invited to let go the burdens of yesterday and instead to humble myself and receive the fresh mercies that are being offered. More faithful than the sunrise is the God that I worship. I find rest for my soul in His compassion that never fails.
Each morning in the light of the newborn day I open His word and worship Him in Spirit and unveiled reality. I commune with my Creator and nourish my soul with the bread of heaven. The events of this day are unknown to me, but not to Him. In worship I take hold of the One who holds yesterday, today and tomorrow in His hands.
In His presence I know a peace that passes understanding. As the sky is transformed from light blue to a deep sapphire, I hear a voice from Heaven say, "I am the Alpha and the Omega, the One who is, who was, and who is coming, the Almighty." As I rise to begin my day, I add my voice to the voices of all who believe. "Amen! Come, Lord Jesus!"
Saturday, June 25, 2016
Anchoring My Attention in Eternity
I was twelve years old when I heard the song for the first song.The song affected me so much I almost swooned. It makes me smile to remember my strong emotional reactions because the song was Yesterday by the Beatles. And to be honest at twelve years of age I really didn't have that many yesterdays to count.
Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away
Now it looks as though they're here to stay
Oh, I believed in yesterday
Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be
There's a shadow hanging over me.
Oh, yesterday came suddenly
...
I said somethings wrong now I long for yesterday
....
Now I need a place to place to hide away
Oh, I believe in yesterday
This is has been a year of change and in many ways a year of loss. It's been the kind of year that makes me look back and remember my yesterdays with a sense of longing. But recently an obscure Bible verse kept coming to mind. It was a instruction on how to deal with the feelings that I was having, "Don't say, 'Why were the former days better than these?' For it is not wise of you to ask" (Ecclesiastes 7:10).
The night after I looked the verse up to find out where it was I had trouble sleeping. I thought about the wisdom of not asking why the former days were better than the days we are living in, and I decided to turn my attention to the name that God gave Moses to call Him, I AM.
As I focused on what it meant to worship I AM, I could feel the knots in my soul begin to untie. I remembered that God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. I began to rest in the truth that His steadfast love never failed and His mercy was new every morning. When I anchored my mind, my soul and my spirit in the great I AM, I was ushered before the throne of the Eternal God. With eternity in mind, the thoughts of yesterday found their correct perspective.
Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away
Now it looks as though they're here to stay
Oh, I believed in yesterday
Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be
There's a shadow hanging over me.
Oh, yesterday came suddenly
...
I said somethings wrong now I long for yesterday
....
Now I need a place to place to hide away
Oh, I believe in yesterday
This is has been a year of change and in many ways a year of loss. It's been the kind of year that makes me look back and remember my yesterdays with a sense of longing. But recently an obscure Bible verse kept coming to mind. It was a instruction on how to deal with the feelings that I was having, "Don't say, 'Why were the former days better than these?' For it is not wise of you to ask" (Ecclesiastes 7:10).
The night after I looked the verse up to find out where it was I had trouble sleeping. I thought about the wisdom of not asking why the former days were better than the days we are living in, and I decided to turn my attention to the name that God gave Moses to call Him, I AM.
As I focused on what it meant to worship I AM, I could feel the knots in my soul begin to untie. I remembered that God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. I began to rest in the truth that His steadfast love never failed and His mercy was new every morning. When I anchored my mind, my soul and my spirit in the great I AM, I was ushered before the throne of the Eternal God. With eternity in mind, the thoughts of yesterday found their correct perspective.
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Life's True Purpose
The sky was painted with the colors of the sunset and the evening breeze began to gently blow as Papa and I sat in companionable silence. His wife of sixty four years had died earlier that week. His voice was tender and full of emotion when he finally spoke. We talked that night about the meaning of life.
Papa was ninety one years old, yet, when he was a young child, even before he was able to read, his mother taught him the first catechism question and he never forgot it. So that night I gently asked him, "Papa, what is the chief end of man?" Without hesitation he responded, "The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever."
In some ways the answer seemed simple, but the weight of its meaning had brought stability to all he had encountered in his ninety one years. Papa had seen God's glory as he gazed into the heavens seeking a sign that a drought would be broken by the coming of rain. As a farmer he had entered into the joy of creation when watching the birth of a calf. He understood too that, though he could put the seed into the ground, only God could make it grow.
That night we sat together watching the sunset and talking about the meaning of life. Papa put his gnarled hand down to gently stroke the head of his faithful dog. We spoke of heaven and, although there was deep sorrow, there was also joy. This was a man who had walked humbly and quietly with his Savior, glorifying and enjoying Him in both the big and the small things of life.
It was silent for a few minutes and then I turned to Papa and said. "You know, if God calls you home you can go." He seemed startled for a moment and said, "Sarah, do you know what you are saying?" I spoke with quiet conviction. "Papa, when you were a little boy your mother taught you that the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. I think you've done that." All of his life he had sought to glorify God. The next morning he was welcomed into the joy of His presence.
Where Papa and I sat that last night of his life there is a marble bench given in honor of Papa and Ma Belle. Sometimes at twilight I sit there and pray that my children will remember the lesson their grandfather learned from his mother--that the true purpose of life is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.
Papa was ninety one years old, yet, when he was a young child, even before he was able to read, his mother taught him the first catechism question and he never forgot it. So that night I gently asked him, "Papa, what is the chief end of man?" Without hesitation he responded, "The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever."
In some ways the answer seemed simple, but the weight of its meaning had brought stability to all he had encountered in his ninety one years. Papa had seen God's glory as he gazed into the heavens seeking a sign that a drought would be broken by the coming of rain. As a farmer he had entered into the joy of creation when watching the birth of a calf. He understood too that, though he could put the seed into the ground, only God could make it grow.
That night we sat together watching the sunset and talking about the meaning of life. Papa put his gnarled hand down to gently stroke the head of his faithful dog. We spoke of heaven and, although there was deep sorrow, there was also joy. This was a man who had walked humbly and quietly with his Savior, glorifying and enjoying Him in both the big and the small things of life.
It was silent for a few minutes and then I turned to Papa and said. "You know, if God calls you home you can go." He seemed startled for a moment and said, "Sarah, do you know what you are saying?" I spoke with quiet conviction. "Papa, when you were a little boy your mother taught you that the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. I think you've done that." All of his life he had sought to glorify God. The next morning he was welcomed into the joy of His presence.
Where Papa and I sat that last night of his life there is a marble bench given in honor of Papa and Ma Belle. Sometimes at twilight I sit there and pray that my children will remember the lesson their grandfather learned from his mother--that the true purpose of life is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.
Monday, June 20, 2016
From Lament to Praise
On my way to church yesterday the memory came. It was so strong that I could almost hear again the desperate cry of my daughter's voice,"Mommy, come quickly!" On Father's Day a year ago I took my daughter to the hospital. On that day Abigail gave birth to Cherie, and on that day Cherie died.
At church the congregation was given the opportunity to offer praise. Abigail stood and said, "It was on Father's Day last year that I went to the hospital to deliver Cherie. Today my little girl sleeps beneath the ground in her woodland nursery. But God has blessed me with a wonderful man who is the father of the son we are adopting and of our baby Hardeman." As I listened to my daughter I was reminded of the words of Lamentations.
"Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. "The LORD is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him" (Lamentations 3:19-24).
There are memories that cause the soul to bow in grief, and there are memories that anchor it as well. To remember God's steadfast love is to remember His covenant of love. The steadfast, unfailing love of God is His response to the deepest cries of our heart. His tender mercy never comes to an end but are fresh and new like the daily manna given by God in the wilderness.
To say that, "The LORD is my portion and I will hope in him," is to choose to daily open your heart and receive the gift of compassion and mercy in much the same way as the children of Israel gathered their daily portion of manna. I have watched this year as Abigail and her husband Dave have placed their hope in the steadfast love of the LORD. Their faith has transformed a time of lament into an opportunity for praise.
At church the congregation was given the opportunity to offer praise. Abigail stood and said, "It was on Father's Day last year that I went to the hospital to deliver Cherie. Today my little girl sleeps beneath the ground in her woodland nursery. But God has blessed me with a wonderful man who is the father of the son we are adopting and of our baby Hardeman." As I listened to my daughter I was reminded of the words of Lamentations.
"Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. "The LORD is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him" (Lamentations 3:19-24).
There are memories that cause the soul to bow in grief, and there are memories that anchor it as well. To remember God's steadfast love is to remember His covenant of love. The steadfast, unfailing love of God is His response to the deepest cries of our heart. His tender mercy never comes to an end but are fresh and new like the daily manna given by God in the wilderness.
To say that, "The LORD is my portion and I will hope in him," is to choose to daily open your heart and receive the gift of compassion and mercy in much the same way as the children of Israel gathered their daily portion of manna. I have watched this year as Abigail and her husband Dave have placed their hope in the steadfast love of the LORD. Their faith has transformed a time of lament into an opportunity for praise.
Saturday, May 21, 2016
The God who heals
Where was it in the Bible that God referred to Himself as "I am the God who heals you?"
It had to do with bitter water. Have you ever had to deal with bitterness? It is a sickness that creates a desert in the soul. Bitter water brings with it a curse. It is corrosive and eats away at mental and emotional well being. And yet, it is impossible in this broken world not to experience the grief that comes when true thirst is met with bitter water.
I woke up at 3:15 am praying for a woman I know whose son was shot and killed. There was a trial but the trial only added more sorrow and bitterness to this grieving mother's heart. I woke up praying for her, and as I prayed I remembered how Moses cried out to God about the bitter waters of Marah. God responded to Moses' cries by showing him a tree. When Moses threw the tree into the water, the water became drinkable. As I prayed for my friend in the night I thought, only the cross can cure the bitterness of her soul.
As I continued to pray for my friend I prayed that she would experience the God who heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. In the wilderness a tree was used to heal the bitter water. On the tree at Calvary Jesus' heart was pierced and living water flowed.
For all those whose soul is filled with bitterness, Jesus cried out, "If anyone is thirsty, he should come to Me and drink! The one who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, will have streams of living water flow from deep within him" (John 7:37). On the cross Jesus drank from the bitter cup of suffering so that those who believed in Him could know the God who heals.
It had to do with bitter water. Have you ever had to deal with bitterness? It is a sickness that creates a desert in the soul. Bitter water brings with it a curse. It is corrosive and eats away at mental and emotional well being. And yet, it is impossible in this broken world not to experience the grief that comes when true thirst is met with bitter water.
I woke up at 3:15 am praying for a woman I know whose son was shot and killed. There was a trial but the trial only added more sorrow and bitterness to this grieving mother's heart. I woke up praying for her, and as I prayed I remembered how Moses cried out to God about the bitter waters of Marah. God responded to Moses' cries by showing him a tree. When Moses threw the tree into the water, the water became drinkable. As I prayed for my friend in the night I thought, only the cross can cure the bitterness of her soul.
As I continued to pray for my friend I prayed that she would experience the God who heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. In the wilderness a tree was used to heal the bitter water. On the tree at Calvary Jesus' heart was pierced and living water flowed.
For all those whose soul is filled with bitterness, Jesus cried out, "If anyone is thirsty, he should come to Me and drink! The one who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, will have streams of living water flow from deep within him" (John 7:37). On the cross Jesus drank from the bitter cup of suffering so that those who believed in Him could know the God who heals.
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
Sanctuary
I needed asylum.
The storm clouds blackened the sky; the only lights to be seen were the flaming arrows of lighting. The booming thunder left a deafening ringing in my ears. I was driven by the storm to seek sanctuary.
I found a hiding place, a place of peace, a place of deep rest. This is a stillness that you can only know in the midst of a storm. Here, I heard the sound of rushing waters like a mighty peal of thunder and yet the sound soothed my soul. I was calmed as if listening to a harpist strumming his harp.
I found myself in the presence of one who wrapped Himself with light as with as garment. In this holy place no darkness could dwell. When His light shone in the storm I saw that I was surrounded by a rainbow.
In the beauty of the rainbow I heard the whisper of a promise of peace. I found myself enveloped in the love of God. It was then I realized the storm that drove me to seek asylum had in truth been an invitation to know the stillness that can only come by knowing God.
The storm clouds blackened the sky; the only lights to be seen were the flaming arrows of lighting. The booming thunder left a deafening ringing in my ears. I was driven by the storm to seek sanctuary.
I found a hiding place, a place of peace, a place of deep rest. This is a stillness that you can only know in the midst of a storm. Here, I heard the sound of rushing waters like a mighty peal of thunder and yet the sound soothed my soul. I was calmed as if listening to a harpist strumming his harp.
I found myself in the presence of one who wrapped Himself with light as with as garment. In this holy place no darkness could dwell. When His light shone in the storm I saw that I was surrounded by a rainbow.
In the beauty of the rainbow I heard the whisper of a promise of peace. I found myself enveloped in the love of God. It was then I realized the storm that drove me to seek asylum had in truth been an invitation to know the stillness that can only come by knowing God.
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
Even to the End of Time
The microphone was passed from person to person. Each shared with the congregation the blessings of the week. The last one to take the microphone told how, though an accident had taken place, her loved one had been spared. She concluded her praise with the words, "God is good." As I sat there, the room began to fade and I was taken back in memory to another April morning where I had heard another woman say the words "God is good."
I was not far from my home when it happened. The crash was so sudden I barely missed being part of it. The woman in the car in front of me had been killed. When the police came, my car was encircled by the yellow tape designating the scene of the accident. So I was there when the family gathered.
The grief was tangible; the sorrow brought with it a solemn silence. The silence was broken by a voice that whispered, "God is good." Each person repeated the proclamation until finally the woman beside me turned to me, and with her eyes looking directly into my eyes, she said firmly, "God is good. All the time God is good."
Their words of faith were transcendent. For a brief holy moment it seemed as if the curtains of Heaven were pulled back. I saw a brilliant light; a sapphire throne encircled by a rainbow. The beauty of the rainbow was the result of the light of His presence penetrating the tears of the saints.
The God this grieving family proclaimed as good was acquainted with their sorrows and knew the taste of tears. By His stripes they found healing for their souls. By His blood He purchased for them eternal life. They had put their faith in Jesus and He had given them a blessed hope. The promise was that "They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will exist no longer, grief, crying, and pain will exist no longer, because the previous things have passed away. The One seated on the throne said, 'Look! I am making everything new'" (Revelation 21:3-5).
All the time, even to the end of time, God is good!
I was not far from my home when it happened. The crash was so sudden I barely missed being part of it. The woman in the car in front of me had been killed. When the police came, my car was encircled by the yellow tape designating the scene of the accident. So I was there when the family gathered.
The grief was tangible; the sorrow brought with it a solemn silence. The silence was broken by a voice that whispered, "God is good." Each person repeated the proclamation until finally the woman beside me turned to me, and with her eyes looking directly into my eyes, she said firmly, "God is good. All the time God is good."
Their words of faith were transcendent. For a brief holy moment it seemed as if the curtains of Heaven were pulled back. I saw a brilliant light; a sapphire throne encircled by a rainbow. The beauty of the rainbow was the result of the light of His presence penetrating the tears of the saints.
The God this grieving family proclaimed as good was acquainted with their sorrows and knew the taste of tears. By His stripes they found healing for their souls. By His blood He purchased for them eternal life. They had put their faith in Jesus and He had given them a blessed hope. The promise was that "They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will exist no longer, grief, crying, and pain will exist no longer, because the previous things have passed away. The One seated on the throne said, 'Look! I am making everything new'" (Revelation 21:3-5).
All the time, even to the end of time, God is good!
Saturday, April 9, 2016
The Cup
Lyn drove by and surveyed the scene, but something caught her eye. Beside the dumpster there had been placed a small fragile cup blackened by the blaze. Curiosity caused her to stop the car. She went over to the dumpster, picked up the charred cup, and wondered if it could be salvaged.
After my brain surgery I doubted I would ever be able to speak in public again, partly because of my facial paralysis and partly because I was afraid that when they drilled into my skull they had scrambled my brains. Because of this I hesitated when my church asked me to speak at the women's retreat. But I said yes because I believe that light can shine out of darkness.
As I timidly prepared to speak, I was reminded of 2 Corinthians 4:7-15, "Now we have this treasure in clay jars, so that this extraordinary power may be from God and not from us. We are pressured in every way but not crushed; we are perplexed but not in despair; we are persecuted but not abandoned; we are struck down but destroyed...And since we have the same spirit of faith in accordance with what is written, I believed, therefore I spoke."
The day after I spoke, Lyn handed me a brown bag. Inside the bag I found nestled in the white tissue paper a beautiful, fragile, china cup. It had survived the fire.
Friday, April 8, 2016
What is the difference between humiliation and humility?
In the hospital after my brain surgery I was given mega doses of steroids to keep my brain from swelling. They had to give me hourly insulin shots to protect my pancreas from the steroids. The nurses in the Neuro ICU checked on me every few hours so I was unable to sleep.
For five weeks after my surgery I suffered with insomnia. Because I could not turn my brain off, I ended up struggling with mania. My thoughts came faster and faster until I felt like a marionette. I longed to cut the strings so I could rest, so I could sleep. I felt humiliated and out of control.
I don't believe my life is a random series of events; instead I believe that the Lord is my shepherd and that He is leading me. Sometimes He leads me through difficult places. In Deuteronomy 8:15 it says, "He led you through the great and terrible wilderness with its poisonous snakes and scorpions, a thirsty land where there was no water." Why would a loving God lead me into such nightmares? The answer to that question can be found later in the chapter when it says, "in order to humble and test you, so that in the end He might cause you to prosper."
I don't think that to be humiliated and to be humbled are the same thing. Humiliation carries with it a sense of shame. Humility is when the trials of life show what is in your heart and you come to God with a broken and contrite heart. When I was humiliated, it was because my focus was on myself and my pride. My humiliation was turned to humility when my heart became tender and I let God expose my sin.
Wounded pride will always bring with it a sense of shame and humiliation, but it also brings with it anxiety. Pride makes us think that we are our own god in control of our own destiny; when the circumstances of life prove otherwise, we suffer with anxiety. Our good shepherd leads us into the great and terrible wilderness with its poisonous snakes and scorpions where there is great thirst, not to destroy us, but to set us free. Here in the wilderness-experiences of life we are invited to let go of our pride and take hold of His hand. For those who take hold of His hand, the pain of humiliation is replaced by the grace that accompanies humility. For those who hear His voice and do not harden their heart, He leads them out of their anxiety and into His rest. Those who enter into His rest find rest for body, soul and spirit.
For five weeks after my surgery I suffered with insomnia. Because I could not turn my brain off, I ended up struggling with mania. My thoughts came faster and faster until I felt like a marionette. I longed to cut the strings so I could rest, so I could sleep. I felt humiliated and out of control.
I don't believe my life is a random series of events; instead I believe that the Lord is my shepherd and that He is leading me. Sometimes He leads me through difficult places. In Deuteronomy 8:15 it says, "He led you through the great and terrible wilderness with its poisonous snakes and scorpions, a thirsty land where there was no water." Why would a loving God lead me into such nightmares? The answer to that question can be found later in the chapter when it says, "in order to humble and test you, so that in the end He might cause you to prosper."
I don't think that to be humiliated and to be humbled are the same thing. Humiliation carries with it a sense of shame. Humility is when the trials of life show what is in your heart and you come to God with a broken and contrite heart. When I was humiliated, it was because my focus was on myself and my pride. My humiliation was turned to humility when my heart became tender and I let God expose my sin.
Wounded pride will always bring with it a sense of shame and humiliation, but it also brings with it anxiety. Pride makes us think that we are our own god in control of our own destiny; when the circumstances of life prove otherwise, we suffer with anxiety. Our good shepherd leads us into the great and terrible wilderness with its poisonous snakes and scorpions where there is great thirst, not to destroy us, but to set us free. Here in the wilderness-experiences of life we are invited to let go of our pride and take hold of His hand. For those who take hold of His hand, the pain of humiliation is replaced by the grace that accompanies humility. For those who hear His voice and do not harden their heart, He leads them out of their anxiety and into His rest. Those who enter into His rest find rest for body, soul and spirit.
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Reflections on Holy Week
This morning I was thinking about Holy Week. I wanted to share my reflections.
The first thing that comes to my mind is a picture of Adam and Eve hiding when they hear the sound the Lord God walking in the garden at the time the evening breeze. God had come to seek fellowship, but they are hiding because, although God had placed them in a garden and invited them to eat from any tree in Eden, Eve, beguiled by the serpent, chose instead to eat from the one tree that was forbidden. As a result of their rebellion they were sent out of the garden, but with the promise of a savior. One day a man would come who would strike the head of the serpent, though the serpent would strike his heel.
My mind went next to the wilderness. Here I saw a people with whom God sought fellowship; but this time instead of being offered a garden full of trees to select from, they were given bread from heaven to eat. For forty years He shepherded them in the wilderness, teaching them the lesson they had not learned in the garden; that He was their God, their provider. How did they respond to the bread from heaven? In their own words they said, "We loath this worthless food" (Numbers 21:5). There had been a beguiling serpent in the garden, but in the wilderness the snake took the form of a fiery serpent biting the people so that many died. And, just as in the garden, along with the curse came the promise of salvation. Salvation was offered in the form of a bronze snake lifted on a pole. When someone was bitten, if he looked at the bronze snake, he recovered.
In the fullness of time the prophecy given in the garden was fulfilled, the seed of woman came to break the curse. Once more God had come to His people offering fellowship. He came not only to break the curse brought about by the beguiling serpent in the garden, but also the fiery serpent in the wilderness. At the beginning of His ministry Jesus explained it to Nicodemus this way, "Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so to the Son of Man must be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in Him will have eternal life. For God loved the world in this way: He gave His One and Only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life" (John 3:14-16).
Jesus, the bread of heaven, was rejected, loathed and counted as worthless. The One who descended from heaven to break the curse of man's rebellion was rejected and sentenced to death on a cross. On the cross His heel was bruised, but on that same cross the curse was broken. The thief dying on the cross beside him admitted that the punishment he was receiving was just. He, like those dying in the wilderness, could do nothing but turn his head and look at Jesus, but that was enough. Fellowship was restored that day, not in the garden nor in the wilderness, but in paradise.
The first thing that comes to my mind is a picture of Adam and Eve hiding when they hear the sound the Lord God walking in the garden at the time the evening breeze. God had come to seek fellowship, but they are hiding because, although God had placed them in a garden and invited them to eat from any tree in Eden, Eve, beguiled by the serpent, chose instead to eat from the one tree that was forbidden. As a result of their rebellion they were sent out of the garden, but with the promise of a savior. One day a man would come who would strike the head of the serpent, though the serpent would strike his heel.
My mind went next to the wilderness. Here I saw a people with whom God sought fellowship; but this time instead of being offered a garden full of trees to select from, they were given bread from heaven to eat. For forty years He shepherded them in the wilderness, teaching them the lesson they had not learned in the garden; that He was their God, their provider. How did they respond to the bread from heaven? In their own words they said, "We loath this worthless food" (Numbers 21:5). There had been a beguiling serpent in the garden, but in the wilderness the snake took the form of a fiery serpent biting the people so that many died. And, just as in the garden, along with the curse came the promise of salvation. Salvation was offered in the form of a bronze snake lifted on a pole. When someone was bitten, if he looked at the bronze snake, he recovered.
In the fullness of time the prophecy given in the garden was fulfilled, the seed of woman came to break the curse. Once more God had come to His people offering fellowship. He came not only to break the curse brought about by the beguiling serpent in the garden, but also the fiery serpent in the wilderness. At the beginning of His ministry Jesus explained it to Nicodemus this way, "Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so to the Son of Man must be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in Him will have eternal life. For God loved the world in this way: He gave His One and Only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life" (John 3:14-16).
Jesus, the bread of heaven, was rejected, loathed and counted as worthless. The One who descended from heaven to break the curse of man's rebellion was rejected and sentenced to death on a cross. On the cross His heel was bruised, but on that same cross the curse was broken. The thief dying on the cross beside him admitted that the punishment he was receiving was just. He, like those dying in the wilderness, could do nothing but turn his head and look at Jesus, but that was enough. Fellowship was restored that day, not in the garden nor in the wilderness, but in paradise.
Thursday, March 10, 2016
Like a Little Child
The words have become like a soundtrack always playing in the background of my mind.
"Lord, my heart is not proud; my eyes are not haughty. I do not get involved with things too great or difficult for me. Instead, I have calmed and quieted myself like a little weaned child with its mother; I am like a little child" (Psalm 131:1,2).
I wake in the night haunted by situations beyond my control; and, like a little child, I call out to my Heavenly Father. In humility I acknowledge the fear that woke me is too great, too difficult for me. So, like a little child who is confident of her father's love, I turn my attention to the power of His love. I quiet and calm myself in the light of His presence and find rest for my soul.
This soundtrack that I hear as I journey along is a song of ascents. As I listen to this psalm with childlike faith, I am reminded of the words of Moses to the children of Israel as they made their ascent from Egypt to the Promised land, "So I said to you; Don't be terrified or afraid of them! The Lord your God who goes before you will fight for you, just as you saw Him do for you in Egypt. And you saw in the wilderness how the Lord your God carried you as a man carries his son all along the way you traveled until you reached this place" (Deuteronomy 1:29-31). I am often frightened on this pilgrimage until I am reminded that I am invited to childlike faith in a God who goes before me and is able to carry me all the way home.
"O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore" (Psalm 131:3). This theme song constantly playing in my mind only has three verses, and this last verse again reminds me of childlike faith. When Jesus' disciples argued about who was the greatest, He took a child and brought him into their midst and held that child in His arms while He taught about what it means to be great in His kingdom.
Another day has begun. I recognize that today I face challenges that seem too big for me. If my confidence was based in my own abilities I would be overwhelmed by fear. But my soul is calmed and quieted within me as I anchor my hope in the love and promises of my Heavenly Father.
"Lord, my heart is not proud; my eyes are not haughty. I do not get involved with things too great or difficult for me. Instead, I have calmed and quieted myself like a little weaned child with its mother; I am like a little child" (Psalm 131:1,2).
I wake in the night haunted by situations beyond my control; and, like a little child, I call out to my Heavenly Father. In humility I acknowledge the fear that woke me is too great, too difficult for me. So, like a little child who is confident of her father's love, I turn my attention to the power of His love. I quiet and calm myself in the light of His presence and find rest for my soul.
This soundtrack that I hear as I journey along is a song of ascents. As I listen to this psalm with childlike faith, I am reminded of the words of Moses to the children of Israel as they made their ascent from Egypt to the Promised land, "So I said to you; Don't be terrified or afraid of them! The Lord your God who goes before you will fight for you, just as you saw Him do for you in Egypt. And you saw in the wilderness how the Lord your God carried you as a man carries his son all along the way you traveled until you reached this place" (Deuteronomy 1:29-31). I am often frightened on this pilgrimage until I am reminded that I am invited to childlike faith in a God who goes before me and is able to carry me all the way home.
"O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore" (Psalm 131:3). This theme song constantly playing in my mind only has three verses, and this last verse again reminds me of childlike faith. When Jesus' disciples argued about who was the greatest, He took a child and brought him into their midst and held that child in His arms while He taught about what it means to be great in His kingdom.
Another day has begun. I recognize that today I face challenges that seem too big for me. If my confidence was based in my own abilities I would be overwhelmed by fear. But my soul is calmed and quieted within me as I anchor my hope in the love and promises of my Heavenly Father.
Friday, February 19, 2016
Sadie, a Light Shining in the Darkness
Have you ever felt like you have been sucked into a vortex of despair?
Sadie DeYoung's seventh child was still a baby when her husband abandoned her. In a small mill town in Massachusetts where there are no secrets, everyone knew that Sadie's husband had left her for her oldest daughter's friend. As if this were not enough to strip her soul bare with humiliation, her husband showed his contempt for Sadie by trying to run her over with his car.
Even though Sadie had always been a woman of faith, her circumstances hurled her headlong into a state of hopeless desolation. She felt abandoned and alone, and for a season she lost her grip on life, on God, and on reality. In the 1940's there were no mental hospitals. Sadie was sent to an insane asylum. However, although Sadie had lost her grip on God, He never lost His grip on her.
When Sadie was released from the asylum, the circumstances she faced were daunting. In her absence her family had been evicted from her home and her children were scattered. There was no part of Sadie's life where she had not been humbled. But the God that Sadie believed in is a God who gives grace to the humble.
As Sadie's sanity returned, so did her faith. Her faith was simple but strong. When Sadie read, "The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears, and delivers them from all their trouble," Sadie cried out. Her life gave evidence to the truth that "The Lord is near to the brokenhearted; He saves those crushed in spirit" (Psalm 34:18). The evidence was so strong that all seven of her children chose her faith as their own. Each one of them saw the glory of God as He shown brightly in the broken vessel of their mother.
For the rest of her life a shadow would sometimes come across her soul and she would whisper, "Why?" But her question wasn't, "Why did this happen to me?" Her question was, "Why didn't I trust Christ more?" It was in those times that her son, who had become a preacher, would wrap his comforting arms around her and remind her that, though she had stumbled, she had never been hurled headlong because God had held her hand.
Her son learned an important truth from his mother. Sadie's life showed her children the truth that, though the stars are always shining, their light can be seen best in the night.
Sadie DeYoung's seventh child was still a baby when her husband abandoned her. In a small mill town in Massachusetts where there are no secrets, everyone knew that Sadie's husband had left her for her oldest daughter's friend. As if this were not enough to strip her soul bare with humiliation, her husband showed his contempt for Sadie by trying to run her over with his car.
Even though Sadie had always been a woman of faith, her circumstances hurled her headlong into a state of hopeless desolation. She felt abandoned and alone, and for a season she lost her grip on life, on God, and on reality. In the 1940's there were no mental hospitals. Sadie was sent to an insane asylum. However, although Sadie had lost her grip on God, He never lost His grip on her.
When Sadie was released from the asylum, the circumstances she faced were daunting. In her absence her family had been evicted from her home and her children were scattered. There was no part of Sadie's life where she had not been humbled. But the God that Sadie believed in is a God who gives grace to the humble.
As Sadie's sanity returned, so did her faith. Her faith was simple but strong. When Sadie read, "The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears, and delivers them from all their trouble," Sadie cried out. Her life gave evidence to the truth that "The Lord is near to the brokenhearted; He saves those crushed in spirit" (Psalm 34:18). The evidence was so strong that all seven of her children chose her faith as their own. Each one of them saw the glory of God as He shown brightly in the broken vessel of their mother.
For the rest of her life a shadow would sometimes come across her soul and she would whisper, "Why?" But her question wasn't, "Why did this happen to me?" Her question was, "Why didn't I trust Christ more?" It was in those times that her son, who had become a preacher, would wrap his comforting arms around her and remind her that, though she had stumbled, she had never been hurled headlong because God had held her hand.
Her son learned an important truth from his mother. Sadie's life showed her children the truth that, though the stars are always shining, their light can be seen best in the night.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
What is your relationship to the truth?
I can see it in my memory as if it happened yesterday.
I was going down and he was coming up. The stairwell was in a narrow hallway, and there was hardly enough room for us to pass each other even though I was a very small child. When I saw him, my eyes were as full of terror as my hands were full of the money I had taken from his bureau.
"What are you hiding?"
"What are you hiding?" This was the question my father asked me when he encountered me in the narrow stairwell. Up until then I had rationalized my acquisition of my father's pocket change; after all, I was to young to even spend it. I was just transferring it from his bureau to my pockets.
"Tell the truth. Did you take my money?"
When my father asked me these questions, he was also confronting me with the truth. As long as I could hide what I was doing from my father, I could justify my theft. My father's question brought me to a place where I could confess what I had done. I repented, and I never again stole from my father. My father forgave me and never introduced me as "Sarah, the family thief."
"Where are you?"
This was the question God called out in the garden. In response, Adam admitted he was afraid because he was naked. God's next question was, "Who told you that you were naked?" But God didn't stop there. He went on to ask, "Did you eat from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?" In response to these questions, Adam laid the blame on God, because it was the woman He had created that invited him to eat the forbidden fruit.
"What have you done?"
This is the question God asked Eve. With this question God invited Eve to confess her sin. She chose to confess that the serpent had sinned. The serpent had deceived her.
During this season of Lent, God invites us to ponder the questions He asked in the garden when He came in the cool of the evening seeking fellowship. "Where are you?" "What have you done?" Maybe it might even be helpful to ask the question my father asked me, "What are you hiding?" Lent is a good time to take a look at our relationship with the truth.
I was going down and he was coming up. The stairwell was in a narrow hallway, and there was hardly enough room for us to pass each other even though I was a very small child. When I saw him, my eyes were as full of terror as my hands were full of the money I had taken from his bureau.
"What are you hiding?"
"What are you hiding?" This was the question my father asked me when he encountered me in the narrow stairwell. Up until then I had rationalized my acquisition of my father's pocket change; after all, I was to young to even spend it. I was just transferring it from his bureau to my pockets.
"Tell the truth. Did you take my money?"
When my father asked me these questions, he was also confronting me with the truth. As long as I could hide what I was doing from my father, I could justify my theft. My father's question brought me to a place where I could confess what I had done. I repented, and I never again stole from my father. My father forgave me and never introduced me as "Sarah, the family thief."
"Where are you?"
This was the question God called out in the garden. In response, Adam admitted he was afraid because he was naked. God's next question was, "Who told you that you were naked?" But God didn't stop there. He went on to ask, "Did you eat from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?" In response to these questions, Adam laid the blame on God, because it was the woman He had created that invited him to eat the forbidden fruit.
"What have you done?"
This is the question God asked Eve. With this question God invited Eve to confess her sin. She chose to confess that the serpent had sinned. The serpent had deceived her.
During this season of Lent, God invites us to ponder the questions He asked in the garden when He came in the cool of the evening seeking fellowship. "Where are you?" "What have you done?" Maybe it might even be helpful to ask the question my father asked me, "What are you hiding?" Lent is a good time to take a look at our relationship with the truth.
Thursday, February 11, 2016
Remembering
I was only six years old when I first knelt before the priest and heard, "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." After he said this he took some black ashes and made the sign of the cross on my forehead. I was told not to wipe it off. I could hardly wait to look at my reflection in the mirror. As I stared at myself I repeated in a whisper, "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." It was a strange and new thought for me as a young child.
On December 29, 2015, I climbed the stairs with a cup of hot coffee to bring to Bonnie who was spending Christmas with me. I handed her the coffee and then I sat on the edge of the bed as I had done every other morning of her stay and shared with her a devotional I had prepared for the day. I remember what I shared with her that day because I recorded it in my journal. That morning we talked about Genesis 3 where God told Adam, "You are dust and to dust you will return."
We shared a special harmony of thought that morning as we talked about what it would have been like to have God coming into the garden at the time of the evening breeze to have communion with us. And we were both struck by the barrier that rebellion had placed, preventing the fellowship the Creator came to share with His creation.
"Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." That morning in December we remembered the curse that came when rebellion entered the garden, but we focused on the comfort of the promise. The promise was that one day a savior would come who would strike the head of the serpent and break the curse. The Christmas lights were still lit as we spoke of Jesus who came bringing beauty for ashes.
As I left her room that morning, Bonnie said, "Sarah, do you mind if I just stay here a while before I come downstairs? I just want to think about this." I closed the door aware of the presence of the Spirit of the Lord God who binds up the brokenhearted and proclaims liberty to those who put their trust in His promise. One month later on January 29, 2016, Bonnie died. Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return. But never forget that Jesus came to bring beauty for ashes.
On December 29, 2015, I climbed the stairs with a cup of hot coffee to bring to Bonnie who was spending Christmas with me. I handed her the coffee and then I sat on the edge of the bed as I had done every other morning of her stay and shared with her a devotional I had prepared for the day. I remember what I shared with her that day because I recorded it in my journal. That morning we talked about Genesis 3 where God told Adam, "You are dust and to dust you will return."
We shared a special harmony of thought that morning as we talked about what it would have been like to have God coming into the garden at the time of the evening breeze to have communion with us. And we were both struck by the barrier that rebellion had placed, preventing the fellowship the Creator came to share with His creation.
"Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." That morning in December we remembered the curse that came when rebellion entered the garden, but we focused on the comfort of the promise. The promise was that one day a savior would come who would strike the head of the serpent and break the curse. The Christmas lights were still lit as we spoke of Jesus who came bringing beauty for ashes.
As I left her room that morning, Bonnie said, "Sarah, do you mind if I just stay here a while before I come downstairs? I just want to think about this." I closed the door aware of the presence of the Spirit of the Lord God who binds up the brokenhearted and proclaims liberty to those who put their trust in His promise. One month later on January 29, 2016, Bonnie died. Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return. But never forget that Jesus came to bring beauty for ashes.
Monday, February 1, 2016
When Demons Howl
The howling storm called forth the terror inside them. Can light prevail when darkness comes? When the wind screams, it summons fear. The wind became like the hands of a demon intent on destroying them. The waves were breaking into the boat and Jesus was asleep on the cushion in the stern of the boat.
The demon of the sea had done its work and the disciples were blinded by terror. "Teacher, don't you care that we are perishing?" "He woke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, 'Peace! Be Still!'" (Mark 4:39) The power of the storm was matched only by the sudden calm that came when the wind ceased.
"Who then is this, that even wind and sea obey him?"
He howled among the tombs. There was terror in the darkness and his screams were heard even in the day. In agony he had bruised and cut himself with stones. The demons that possessed him were stronger than the cords and shackles that had often been used to try to restrain him. Was this a man forsaken and forgotten by God?
The demons had seen the storm cease and had come to meet Jesus as soon as he stepped out onto land. The disciples may have wondered who Jesus was, but the demons knew. They knew that he was the Son of the Most High God and that he had dominion over them. He cast the Legion out of the man and into the pigs. The pain that this man had experienced can only be matched by the perfect peace that blanketed him when the storm in his life ceased.
I have seen the fear that comes when the storm clouds rise. I have seen the agony of those who seem to be helpless victims among the tombs. However, some things never change. The same Jesus who was the Lord of the ancient storm is the Lord of all storms. The same Jesus who had dominion over the demons of the past has dominion over the demons we encounter today no matter how loud the demons howl.
The demon of the sea had done its work and the disciples were blinded by terror. "Teacher, don't you care that we are perishing?" "He woke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, 'Peace! Be Still!'" (Mark 4:39) The power of the storm was matched only by the sudden calm that came when the wind ceased.
"Who then is this, that even wind and sea obey him?"
He howled among the tombs. There was terror in the darkness and his screams were heard even in the day. In agony he had bruised and cut himself with stones. The demons that possessed him were stronger than the cords and shackles that had often been used to try to restrain him. Was this a man forsaken and forgotten by God?
The demons had seen the storm cease and had come to meet Jesus as soon as he stepped out onto land. The disciples may have wondered who Jesus was, but the demons knew. They knew that he was the Son of the Most High God and that he had dominion over them. He cast the Legion out of the man and into the pigs. The pain that this man had experienced can only be matched by the perfect peace that blanketed him when the storm in his life ceased.
I have seen the fear that comes when the storm clouds rise. I have seen the agony of those who seem to be helpless victims among the tombs. However, some things never change. The same Jesus who was the Lord of the ancient storm is the Lord of all storms. The same Jesus who had dominion over the demons of the past has dominion over the demons we encounter today no matter how loud the demons howl.
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
Reading Through My Journals
Every year it's the same. I smile as I look at the clean blank pages in my journal and my planning calendar. In my journal I write my hopes and my dreams for the coming year. In my planner I write the goals I want to accomplish. Each year begins the same--but I do something else as well; I read through my journals from the year that has just passed.
In retrospect I am reminded, "A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord determines his steps" (Proverbs 16:9). As I closed my journal and calendar for this past year, I sighed. Last year was a hard year for me. I watched as my granddaughter took her final breath so soon after her birth. My heart ached with the grief as I stood at her graveside beside my daughter and her husband. I woke from brain surgery with half my face paralyzed and a total and unnatural silence from the ear whose auditory nerve had been severed. The steps that the Lord had determined for me to walk last year were difficult.
When I was a teenager I learned, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding; think about Him in all your ways, and He will guide you on the right paths" (Proverbs 3:5,6). As a young person I was quite sure what those "right paths" were. I thought surely they had to do with my own fame and prosperity. Trusting in a God who is going to lead me into a bright and glorious future isn't very hard.
I now have a bookshelf full of journals from my past. Many of the pages are tear-stained. I found through the years that trust was something I had to learn, and often it was learned best when the path the Lord had chosen for me to walk was difficult. When I look back over the years represented in the pages of those books, I don't see any bad years; but I do see many that were perplexing. If I had only had my own understanding I would have been lost in the labyrinth. However, when I turned my mind to think about the Lord, my mind was filled with light and peace even though my eyes were filled with tears.
"Lord, You are my portion and my cup of blessing; You hold my future. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance" (Psalms 16:5,6). Today if I looked at the blank pages of both my journal and my planning calendar with only my earthly understanding, I would not be smiling. But I have learned to surrendered my confusion to the Lord. And because I trust the one who holds my future I approach the unknown with a smile.
In retrospect I am reminded, "A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord determines his steps" (Proverbs 16:9). As I closed my journal and calendar for this past year, I sighed. Last year was a hard year for me. I watched as my granddaughter took her final breath so soon after her birth. My heart ached with the grief as I stood at her graveside beside my daughter and her husband. I woke from brain surgery with half my face paralyzed and a total and unnatural silence from the ear whose auditory nerve had been severed. The steps that the Lord had determined for me to walk last year were difficult.
When I was a teenager I learned, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding; think about Him in all your ways, and He will guide you on the right paths" (Proverbs 3:5,6). As a young person I was quite sure what those "right paths" were. I thought surely they had to do with my own fame and prosperity. Trusting in a God who is going to lead me into a bright and glorious future isn't very hard.
I now have a bookshelf full of journals from my past. Many of the pages are tear-stained. I found through the years that trust was something I had to learn, and often it was learned best when the path the Lord had chosen for me to walk was difficult. When I look back over the years represented in the pages of those books, I don't see any bad years; but I do see many that were perplexing. If I had only had my own understanding I would have been lost in the labyrinth. However, when I turned my mind to think about the Lord, my mind was filled with light and peace even though my eyes were filled with tears.
"Lord, You are my portion and my cup of blessing; You hold my future. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance" (Psalms 16:5,6). Today if I looked at the blank pages of both my journal and my planning calendar with only my earthly understanding, I would not be smiling. But I have learned to surrendered my confusion to the Lord. And because I trust the one who holds my future I approach the unknown with a smile.
Monday, January 25, 2016
There is a Thirst
There is a thirst.
Some try to quench the thirst with pleasure; some with possessions; others try to find satisfaction in their work or in an endless pursuit of knowledge. But this thirst was given as a gift from God to cause those whom He created to seek Him. Those who look for a source of satisfaction under the heavens and apart from God only find emptiness at the end of their pursuit. They come to the end of life and find that they have been chasing the wind. What they thought would quench this God-given gift of thirst only proved to fill them with a since of futility. The pleasures, possessions, work and pursuit of knowledge will, at the end of life, prove meaningless.
There is a thirst.
When this thirst causes us to look beyond our earthly quest for satisfaction we find an invitation from God to be loved and to live a life full of abundance and meaning. "For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His faithful love towards those who fear Him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him, for He knows what we are made of, remembering that we are dust. As for man, his days are like grass -- he blooms like a flower of the field; when the wind passes over it, it vanishes, and its place is no longer known. But from eternity the Lord's faithful love is toward those who fear Him" (Psalm 103:11-17).
There is a thirst.
Some will spend the few days of their lives building cisterns only to find that their cisterns are broken and will not hold water. Others will hear the voice of God calling, "Come, every one who is thirsty, come to the waters; and you without money, come, buy, and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost! Why do you spend money on what is not food, and your wages on what does not satisfy? Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good, and you will enjoy the choicest of foods. Pay attention and come to Me. Listen, so that you will live" (Isaiah 55:1-3).
There is a thirst.
There is a thirst and there is a God who loved us so much that He was willing to experience our thirst so that we could experience His life, His abundant life. "Jesus stood up and cried out with a loud voice, 'If anyone is thirsty, he should come to Me and drink! The one who believes in Me, as the Scriptures has said, will have streams of living water flow from deep within him'" (John 7:37,38). When Jesus accomplished His mission to provide for us what we could not provided for ourselves, He said, "I thirst." For His thirst He was given bitter wine so that for those who believe in Him they could receive His Spirit to satisfy the deepest longing of the soul.
There is a thirst.
There is a thirst that is so real and so deep that it is spoken of on the last page of the scripture. This thirst is a gift from God because along with the thirst comes an invitation. "Both the Spirit and the bride say, 'Come!' Anyone who who hears should say, 'Come!' And the one who is thirsty should come. Whoever desires should take the living water as a gift" (Revelation 22:17). If you have read these word and you are thirsty, then you have also heard the invitation of God to "Come."
Some try to quench the thirst with pleasure; some with possessions; others try to find satisfaction in their work or in an endless pursuit of knowledge. But this thirst was given as a gift from God to cause those whom He created to seek Him. Those who look for a source of satisfaction under the heavens and apart from God only find emptiness at the end of their pursuit. They come to the end of life and find that they have been chasing the wind. What they thought would quench this God-given gift of thirst only proved to fill them with a since of futility. The pleasures, possessions, work and pursuit of knowledge will, at the end of life, prove meaningless.
There is a thirst.
When this thirst causes us to look beyond our earthly quest for satisfaction we find an invitation from God to be loved and to live a life full of abundance and meaning. "For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His faithful love towards those who fear Him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him, for He knows what we are made of, remembering that we are dust. As for man, his days are like grass -- he blooms like a flower of the field; when the wind passes over it, it vanishes, and its place is no longer known. But from eternity the Lord's faithful love is toward those who fear Him" (Psalm 103:11-17).
There is a thirst.
Some will spend the few days of their lives building cisterns only to find that their cisterns are broken and will not hold water. Others will hear the voice of God calling, "Come, every one who is thirsty, come to the waters; and you without money, come, buy, and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost! Why do you spend money on what is not food, and your wages on what does not satisfy? Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good, and you will enjoy the choicest of foods. Pay attention and come to Me. Listen, so that you will live" (Isaiah 55:1-3).
There is a thirst.
There is a thirst and there is a God who loved us so much that He was willing to experience our thirst so that we could experience His life, His abundant life. "Jesus stood up and cried out with a loud voice, 'If anyone is thirsty, he should come to Me and drink! The one who believes in Me, as the Scriptures has said, will have streams of living water flow from deep within him'" (John 7:37,38). When Jesus accomplished His mission to provide for us what we could not provided for ourselves, He said, "I thirst." For His thirst He was given bitter wine so that for those who believe in Him they could receive His Spirit to satisfy the deepest longing of the soul.
There is a thirst.
There is a thirst that is so real and so deep that it is spoken of on the last page of the scripture. This thirst is a gift from God because along with the thirst comes an invitation. "Both the Spirit and the bride say, 'Come!' Anyone who who hears should say, 'Come!' And the one who is thirsty should come. Whoever desires should take the living water as a gift" (Revelation 22:17). If you have read these word and you are thirsty, then you have also heard the invitation of God to "Come."
Thursday, January 7, 2016
Communion in the Wilderness
I have read it over and over again. I think I feel drawn to it because I find comfort there.
"He led you through that vast and dreadful wilderness, that thirsty and waterless land, with its fiery serpents and scorpions" (Deuteronomy 8:15). Perhaps it seems like a strange verse to draw comfort from, so I'll explain. For the last several months I have felt like I've been in some sort of a wilderness. But there is a difference in finding myself somewhere just by chance and being led someplace on purpose. In the barren places of life I learn who I am but I also learn who God is.
Why? What is the purpose of a wilderness? "Remember that the Lord your God led you on the entire journey these 40 years in the wilderness, so that He might humble you and test you to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands" (Deuteronomy 8:2). God's children were humbled when He let them go hungry and then fed them with manna. They were humbled again when He led them to a place where there was no water and then brought them water from a hard rock.
When all is well in my world I find it easy to daydream about who I am; but when I am led into the wilderness I also am humbled and find that my heart is tested. When I was in school I never enjoyed tests, but the purpose of the test in school was to reveal what had been learned. The purpose of the test in the wilderness is to reveal what we really believe. In this vast and dreadful wilderness, with its fiery serpents and scorpions and its thirsty ground because there is no water, do we really trust the God who led us there?
When I have been humbled, can I be satisfied with Jesus, the living bread that came down from heaven? When the desires of my heart have been exposed, can I find my thirst quenched by accepting the invitation of Jesus to come to Him and drink? In the wilderness, when I have been humbled and tested, I seek communion with the God who is leading me through this experience. In this communion I taste and see that God is good.
"He led you through that vast and dreadful wilderness, that thirsty and waterless land, with its fiery serpents and scorpions" (Deuteronomy 8:15). Perhaps it seems like a strange verse to draw comfort from, so I'll explain. For the last several months I have felt like I've been in some sort of a wilderness. But there is a difference in finding myself somewhere just by chance and being led someplace on purpose. In the barren places of life I learn who I am but I also learn who God is.
Why? What is the purpose of a wilderness? "Remember that the Lord your God led you on the entire journey these 40 years in the wilderness, so that He might humble you and test you to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands" (Deuteronomy 8:2). God's children were humbled when He let them go hungry and then fed them with manna. They were humbled again when He led them to a place where there was no water and then brought them water from a hard rock.
When all is well in my world I find it easy to daydream about who I am; but when I am led into the wilderness I also am humbled and find that my heart is tested. When I was in school I never enjoyed tests, but the purpose of the test in school was to reveal what had been learned. The purpose of the test in the wilderness is to reveal what we really believe. In this vast and dreadful wilderness, with its fiery serpents and scorpions and its thirsty ground because there is no water, do we really trust the God who led us there?
When I have been humbled, can I be satisfied with Jesus, the living bread that came down from heaven? When the desires of my heart have been exposed, can I find my thirst quenched by accepting the invitation of Jesus to come to Him and drink? In the wilderness, when I have been humbled and tested, I seek communion with the God who is leading me through this experience. In this communion I taste and see that God is good.
Sunday, January 3, 2016
Being Seen
"It's really hard to go to church. I wish I could be invisible." This is the text I sent my husband Sunday morning.
One of the reasons I share on such a personal level is because I don't think I am alone in my struggles. The other reason is because I am trying to process my pain through the eyes of faith. My goal is to be sure of what I hope for and confident about what I don't see, but I'm not always sure how to do that. So,, if you're reading this, you're reading about a work in process.
When I had my brain surgery my facial nerve was tangled up in the tumor, so I ended up with half my face paralyzed. I wanted to be invisible not because there is no improvement but because there is. After two eye surgeries I can finally close my eye. The last time they did surgery the doctor even made it so my eye brow stays where it's supposed to be. I look better, but I have a bruised soul.
A paralyzed face is hard to hide, but a crushed spirit and a wounded heart are not always easily detected. So I wanted to be invisible. I didn't know how to respond to the duplicity I was experiencing, so I prayed to the God who really sees. When I go before God I go just as I am--broken, wounded, waiting. I wait with anticipation because in His presence I know that I am understood.
After the service my friends gathered around me. They encouraged me because they looked past my face and inquired about my heart. Because I knew they cared, I was able to put my struggle into words.
I believe in a God who dwells in the Highest Heaven and with those who have a crushed spirit and a wounded soul. It is hard to be vulnerable and wounded and to admit that your heart is hurting. But there is a deep healing that takes place when the Spirit of God touches you through the hands of other believers.
One of the reasons I share on such a personal level is because I don't think I am alone in my struggles. The other reason is because I am trying to process my pain through the eyes of faith. My goal is to be sure of what I hope for and confident about what I don't see, but I'm not always sure how to do that. So,, if you're reading this, you're reading about a work in process.
When I had my brain surgery my facial nerve was tangled up in the tumor, so I ended up with half my face paralyzed. I wanted to be invisible not because there is no improvement but because there is. After two eye surgeries I can finally close my eye. The last time they did surgery the doctor even made it so my eye brow stays where it's supposed to be. I look better, but I have a bruised soul.
A paralyzed face is hard to hide, but a crushed spirit and a wounded heart are not always easily detected. So I wanted to be invisible. I didn't know how to respond to the duplicity I was experiencing, so I prayed to the God who really sees. When I go before God I go just as I am--broken, wounded, waiting. I wait with anticipation because in His presence I know that I am understood.
After the service my friends gathered around me. They encouraged me because they looked past my face and inquired about my heart. Because I knew they cared, I was able to put my struggle into words.
I believe in a God who dwells in the Highest Heaven and with those who have a crushed spirit and a wounded soul. It is hard to be vulnerable and wounded and to admit that your heart is hurting. But there is a deep healing that takes place when the Spirit of God touches you through the hands of other believers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)