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.
Saturday, November 26, 2016
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.
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