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.
Friday, February 19, 2016
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.
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