There was a time when coal miners would take a canary into the mines with them. They would listen for the song of the little bird as they worked. As long as the canary could sing it reassured them that the air was safe to breathe. I recently saw a similar situation, how the hearing of a song showed the health of its listeners.
The group held its breath as the woman with a childlike mind rose and walked to the stage. She stood there holding the mic expectantly. She was dressed in a golden gown. On her feet she wore tennis shoes and anklet socks. She had a childlike expression on her face. It often seemed that she lived in a world set apart from those around her, but tonight she wanted to share with us the song in her heart.
But something was wrong; the disk that held the music to accompany her song would not play. So she stood before us vulnerable and waiting. She waited, we waited, and all the while there she stood in her golden dress, anklets and tennis shoes with an expression of childlike faith. We were all knit together in a moment of discomfort and uncertainty.
Then it happened. A kind man in his eighties stood and began to approach the stage. Slowly he climbed the steps to where she stood. He took a chair and placed it beside her. Then, taking her by the hand, he gently invited her to rest.
Tears were streaming down my face as the would-be audience began singing, “Jesus loves me, this I know.” Then one love song followed another and were sung as a gift to the woman seated on the stage. Finally, she stood and in a beautiful soprano voice she sang, a capella, “We Shall Behold Him.” Earlier in the day this group had been questioning its viability. I believe that the health of this organization was shown by the way they responded to one of their most vulnerable members. That was the night I felt like I heard a canary sing.
Friday, May 11, 2018
Saturday, April 28, 2018
Treasuring the Gift of Love
When you take hold of a moment and treasure it in your heart it becomes a memory. This is a gift that a child gives to their mother, moments of wonder to ponder and cherish. And when your child has a child, the wealth of these memories are exponential.
The soft, clear light of the moon peeked round my curtain this morning, announcing that the night was coming to an end and a new day was about to be born. But since it was still dark I chose to stay cuddled under the warmth of my down comforter. Today is my granddaughter Ann's wedding day. Today, my Ann is a bride.
So, bathed in the silver moonlight I took the key of memory and unlocked the treasury of my heart. Once more I experienced the wonder of her birth. And then, as if I was riding the wind, I saw the years come and go. I heard the echo of her childish laughter. I watched with joy as she began to crawl, then take her first wobbly steps. Then, suddenly, she was opening the door and walking out into the world.
So many moments make up a day. So many days make up a week. So many weeks make up a month. So many months make up a year. But today is my granddaughter's wedding day, and my heart is holding on to moments. Treasured moments that we have shared together: Holding her hand; pushing her on the swing; having my picture taking with her in her prom dress; waving goodbye as she drives away in her first car.
Today my granddaughter is a bride. This is a day that will be filled with new moments to treasure. Today I will hold my daughter's hand in mine. Today both my daughter and I will open our hearts and treasure together the gift of love.
The soft, clear light of the moon peeked round my curtain this morning, announcing that the night was coming to an end and a new day was about to be born. But since it was still dark I chose to stay cuddled under the warmth of my down comforter. Today is my granddaughter Ann's wedding day. Today, my Ann is a bride.
So, bathed in the silver moonlight I took the key of memory and unlocked the treasury of my heart. Once more I experienced the wonder of her birth. And then, as if I was riding the wind, I saw the years come and go. I heard the echo of her childish laughter. I watched with joy as she began to crawl, then take her first wobbly steps. Then, suddenly, she was opening the door and walking out into the world.
So many moments make up a day. So many days make up a week. So many weeks make up a month. So many months make up a year. But today is my granddaughter's wedding day, and my heart is holding on to moments. Treasured moments that we have shared together: Holding her hand; pushing her on the swing; having my picture taking with her in her prom dress; waving goodbye as she drives away in her first car.
Today my granddaughter is a bride. This is a day that will be filled with new moments to treasure. Today I will hold my daughter's hand in mine. Today both my daughter and I will open our hearts and treasure together the gift of love.
Thursday, April 19, 2018
Don’t be Afraid of the Struggle
I saw that my friend was struggling and I asked her about it. I knew that she had gone through some very difficult situations. She was grieving the loss of many whom she loved. She was facing a life-altering illness. She told me that she didn’t think it was right to complain to God. She had been told that when you come before God it should only be with praise.
My friend is a strong and disciplined woman who wants to do what is right. I told her that when we come before our Heavenly Father we are invited to be vulnerable. He doesn’t want us to come wearing a mask. In fact, no matter how old or mature you are, when you enter His presence you enter as His child. I remember when I was a child I could often contain my emotions and hide my hurt. But when I saw my mother I would burst into tears. I was safe in her presence to express the depth of my emotions.
Sometimes it’s hard to put into words what you’re feeling. I believe that is one of the reasons God gave us the Psalms. Consider the words of Psalm 142, "I pour out my complaint before Him; I reveal my trouble to Him. Although my spirit is weak within me, You know my way." The Psalm continues with these words, "I cry to You, Lord; I say, 'You are my shelter, my portion in the land of the living.' Listen to my cry, for I am very weak. Rescue me from those who pursue me, for they are too strong for me. Free me from prison so that I can praise Your name. The righteous will gather around me because You deal generously with me."
Grief can be a prison. Suffering with a life-altering illness can make you feel like you are being pursued by an enemy. We come vulnerable and sometimes weeping into the presence of the one who knows us best. We come acknowledging our weaknesses and claiming His strength. Like a child throwing themselves into the arms of a loving parent so too we are invited to cast all of our care on our Heavenly Father because He cares for us.
I reminded my friend also that there is a whole book of the Bible entitled Lamentations. It is a book filled with honest grief and the confusion that often accompanies those times. Yet, in the heart of this book we find hope. "Because of the Lord’s faithful love we do not perish, for His mercies never end. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness! I say: The Lord is my portion, therefore I will put my hope in Him." (Lamentations 3:25-27)
So I reached out my hand to my friend, not as someone who is strong and has it all together, but as a sister who understands what it is to cry and to be weak. I reminded her that not only did our Father give us words to express the deepest cries of our heart and a book entitled Lamentations, He gave us each other. He did not design us to be alone. He made us a family. He knows that there are times when we not only need the words to express our hearts we also need the physical touch of a friend who can weep with us.
My friend is a strong and disciplined woman who wants to do what is right. I told her that when we come before our Heavenly Father we are invited to be vulnerable. He doesn’t want us to come wearing a mask. In fact, no matter how old or mature you are, when you enter His presence you enter as His child. I remember when I was a child I could often contain my emotions and hide my hurt. But when I saw my mother I would burst into tears. I was safe in her presence to express the depth of my emotions.
Sometimes it’s hard to put into words what you’re feeling. I believe that is one of the reasons God gave us the Psalms. Consider the words of Psalm 142, "I pour out my complaint before Him; I reveal my trouble to Him. Although my spirit is weak within me, You know my way." The Psalm continues with these words, "I cry to You, Lord; I say, 'You are my shelter, my portion in the land of the living.' Listen to my cry, for I am very weak. Rescue me from those who pursue me, for they are too strong for me. Free me from prison so that I can praise Your name. The righteous will gather around me because You deal generously with me."
Grief can be a prison. Suffering with a life-altering illness can make you feel like you are being pursued by an enemy. We come vulnerable and sometimes weeping into the presence of the one who knows us best. We come acknowledging our weaknesses and claiming His strength. Like a child throwing themselves into the arms of a loving parent so too we are invited to cast all of our care on our Heavenly Father because He cares for us.
I reminded my friend also that there is a whole book of the Bible entitled Lamentations. It is a book filled with honest grief and the confusion that often accompanies those times. Yet, in the heart of this book we find hope. "Because of the Lord’s faithful love we do not perish, for His mercies never end. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness! I say: The Lord is my portion, therefore I will put my hope in Him." (Lamentations 3:25-27)
So I reached out my hand to my friend, not as someone who is strong and has it all together, but as a sister who understands what it is to cry and to be weak. I reminded her that not only did our Father give us words to express the deepest cries of our heart and a book entitled Lamentations, He gave us each other. He did not design us to be alone. He made us a family. He knows that there are times when we not only need the words to express our hearts we also need the physical touch of a friend who can weep with us.
Friday, March 2, 2018
The Gift
I see the memory as if it was a scene in a play I am watching. I cannot picture where I was when I was given the CD. I cannot picture who it was who gave it to me. The gift was given without a word of explanation. It wasn't new; in fact the CD was 16 years old. I found myself simply holding this plastic case in my hand and saying thank you.
I didn't have an opportunity to listen to the music for almost a week. I still haven't listened to all the songs. It's not because I don't like what I've heard so far. It's because I've been captivated by one of the songs. The song has become a prayer. The prayer has become a lens through which I view everything around me.
When I finished Daniel last Spring I was asked to teach the book of Revelation. To be honest I felt completely inadequate. To prepare myself I began to listen to Revelation. I listened to it daily--while I was walking, while I was working around the house, while I was resting. I began to picture the prophecies that John saw.
Our class has been using a Precept study of Revelation. For several weeks the instruction has simply been to draw what is being described in the prophecy. Wait a minute, did I just use the word simply? There is nothing simple about this! However, something has happened as I have wrestled to capture what is written on the pages of this prophecy. I find myself being drawn more deeply into what I am reading.
I have listened to Revelation. I have read through Revelation over and over. I have used my imagination to picture the words I have heard and read. Finally, I have in a very childlike way drawn what my mind now sees. What I have seen is God's glory. What I have tasted is living water. The truth of God's Kingdom has taken up residence in both my heart and mind.
Let The Weight Of Your Glory Fall
Spirit of the Sovereign Lord
Come and make Your presence known
Reveal the glory of the Living God
Let the weight of Your glory cover us
Let the life of Your river flow
Let the truth of Your kingdom reign in us
Let the weight of Your glory
Let the weight of Your glory fall
Steve Merkel
I didn't have an opportunity to listen to the music for almost a week. I still haven't listened to all the songs. It's not because I don't like what I've heard so far. It's because I've been captivated by one of the songs. The song has become a prayer. The prayer has become a lens through which I view everything around me.
When I finished Daniel last Spring I was asked to teach the book of Revelation. To be honest I felt completely inadequate. To prepare myself I began to listen to Revelation. I listened to it daily--while I was walking, while I was working around the house, while I was resting. I began to picture the prophecies that John saw.
Our class has been using a Precept study of Revelation. For several weeks the instruction has simply been to draw what is being described in the prophecy. Wait a minute, did I just use the word simply? There is nothing simple about this! However, something has happened as I have wrestled to capture what is written on the pages of this prophecy. I find myself being drawn more deeply into what I am reading.
I have listened to Revelation. I have read through Revelation over and over. I have used my imagination to picture the words I have heard and read. Finally, I have in a very childlike way drawn what my mind now sees. What I have seen is God's glory. What I have tasted is living water. The truth of God's Kingdom has taken up residence in both my heart and mind.
Let The Weight Of Your Glory Fall
Spirit of the Sovereign Lord
Come and make Your presence known
Reveal the glory of the Living God
Let the weight of Your glory cover us
Let the life of Your river flow
Let the truth of Your kingdom reign in us
Let the weight of Your glory
Let the weight of Your glory fall
Steve Merkel
Wednesday, January 24, 2018
When You Lose Your Way
It was dark when I left home, so very dark. I was going to meet my daughter at her shop. It is only a twenty minute drive. I chose to take the route my husband had showed me using the back roads. But it was early in the morning, the sun had not yet risen and it was dark, so very dark.
As soon as I turned onto the back roads I began to wonder if this was really the best route. It was so dark that I was unable to see any familiar landmarks. My headlights showed only the road directly in front of me, so when the road split I wasn’t sure if I had gone the correct way. I could feel myself gripping the steering wheel tighter and tighter. I could feel the tension in my shoulders and neck as I drove further and further into the darkness.
Finally, I came to the conclusion that I was lost. I didn’t know where I was, nor did I have any idea how to get back onto the right path. I carefully pulled over to the side of the road and turned on my GPS. But I was so far out in the country that I had no service. I sat there for a moment feeling very lost and trying to think of what to do next.
Though I was still unable to see anything around me, what I knew was that I was going in the wrong direction. I knew that if I kept going the wrong way I’d simply get more and more lost, so I carefully turned my car around. To be honest, I still didn’t know where I was, but I was hoping that perhaps I would get to a place where my GPS would work. Finally, I was able to connect. It took me one hour to make a twenty minute trip. But at last I finally made my destination. Had I continued to go in the wrong direction I would have never found where I was going.
In the book of Mark the first words we hear Jesus say are, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe in the good news” ( Mark 1:15)! The word repent means turn around. If you're going in the wrong direction you won’t get there. You may feel like I did when I was lost in the dark on unfamiliar roads and wasn’t sure how to get back. Here is the good news: Jesus came to seek and save the lost. You can only truly know how good that news is if you have experienced how it feels to be lost and alone in the darkness, going in a direction that is taking you away from the kingdom of God.
As soon as I turned onto the back roads I began to wonder if this was really the best route. It was so dark that I was unable to see any familiar landmarks. My headlights showed only the road directly in front of me, so when the road split I wasn’t sure if I had gone the correct way. I could feel myself gripping the steering wheel tighter and tighter. I could feel the tension in my shoulders and neck as I drove further and further into the darkness.
Finally, I came to the conclusion that I was lost. I didn’t know where I was, nor did I have any idea how to get back onto the right path. I carefully pulled over to the side of the road and turned on my GPS. But I was so far out in the country that I had no service. I sat there for a moment feeling very lost and trying to think of what to do next.
Though I was still unable to see anything around me, what I knew was that I was going in the wrong direction. I knew that if I kept going the wrong way I’d simply get more and more lost, so I carefully turned my car around. To be honest, I still didn’t know where I was, but I was hoping that perhaps I would get to a place where my GPS would work. Finally, I was able to connect. It took me one hour to make a twenty minute trip. But at last I finally made my destination. Had I continued to go in the wrong direction I would have never found where I was going.
In the book of Mark the first words we hear Jesus say are, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe in the good news” ( Mark 1:15)! The word repent means turn around. If you're going in the wrong direction you won’t get there. You may feel like I did when I was lost in the dark on unfamiliar roads and wasn’t sure how to get back. Here is the good news: Jesus came to seek and save the lost. You can only truly know how good that news is if you have experienced how it feels to be lost and alone in the darkness, going in a direction that is taking you away from the kingdom of God.
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
Found
I'm not sure when it happened. I had set up a miniature nativity scene on my kitchen table; it was complete with a little stable, sheep, a donkey, wise men, Joseph, Mary, and of course the baby in the manger. But somehow, in my hurry and flurry, when I was cleaning I must have thrown the baby out! I couldn't find him anywhere! So what good is a nativity scene without the baby?
I rearranged the scene and instead of the having the characters looking down at the Prince of Peace I positioned them so that they were all looking anxiously around the table for the lost baby. Looking at the chaos on my table I was reminded of the prophecy in Isaiah, "See, the virgin will become pregnant and give birth to a son, and they will name Him Emmanuel, which is translated, "God is with us."
As I thought about what this means I was reminded of something that had happened earlier this year. I was confronted by a situation that overwhelmed me. I saw no solution. I felt afraid. As I began to pray I heard in my spirit the words from Isaiah, "Do not fear, for I am with you." I turned my thoughts away from the situation that brought me anxiety and focused instead on Emmanuel.
In the intimacy of prayer I heard His voice, "Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." I felt my weakness exchanged for His strength, my fear was replaced by His peace.
Sometimes I have a level of anxiety that comes with the Christmas season. It's a feeling of being incomplete, not enough. The missing baby in the manger caused me to pause and reflect on what it means to have an ever present God. A God who was, who is, and who is coming again. It caused me to think about the Almighty God who is the Prince of Peace who came as a shepherd to find me. I was the one lost, not Him. As I meditate on this truth I hear deep in my spirit, "Do not be afraid, I am with you."
I rearranged the scene and instead of the having the characters looking down at the Prince of Peace I positioned them so that they were all looking anxiously around the table for the lost baby. Looking at the chaos on my table I was reminded of the prophecy in Isaiah, "See, the virgin will become pregnant and give birth to a son, and they will name Him Emmanuel, which is translated, "God is with us."
As I thought about what this means I was reminded of something that had happened earlier this year. I was confronted by a situation that overwhelmed me. I saw no solution. I felt afraid. As I began to pray I heard in my spirit the words from Isaiah, "Do not fear, for I am with you." I turned my thoughts away from the situation that brought me anxiety and focused instead on Emmanuel.
In the intimacy of prayer I heard His voice, "Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." I felt my weakness exchanged for His strength, my fear was replaced by His peace.
Sometimes I have a level of anxiety that comes with the Christmas season. It's a feeling of being incomplete, not enough. The missing baby in the manger caused me to pause and reflect on what it means to have an ever present God. A God who was, who is, and who is coming again. It caused me to think about the Almighty God who is the Prince of Peace who came as a shepherd to find me. I was the one lost, not Him. As I meditate on this truth I hear deep in my spirit, "Do not be afraid, I am with you."
Friday, November 24, 2017
The Rest of the Story
I opened the sliding glass door into the night coolness and was greeted by the smell of "good cigars." The fire was blazing and the conversation was animated. I have a very large family with very large personalities. The topic was politics, even though it had been decided ahead of time by the host that that topic was off limits. However, since he was the one holding forth I figured he must have changed his mind. Everyone was friendly even though they didn't agree with each other.
I listened a while in the darkness, but because of my ever encroaching deafness I found it difficult to follow what was being said. I could hear the hum of their voices rising and falling, but my attention was drawn to the starlit sky and I let my mind move in that direction.
"Then I saw heaven opened, and there was a white horse! Its rider is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness He judges and makes war. His eyes were like fiery flame, and on His head were many crowns, He had a name written that no one knows except Himself. He wore a robe stained with blood, and His name is called the Word of God. The armies that were in heaven followed Him on white horses,wearing pure white linen. From His mouth came a sharp sword, so that with it He might strike the nations. He will shepherd them with an iron scepter. He will also trample the wine-press of the fierce anger of God, the Almighty. And on His robe and on His thigh He has a name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS" (Revelation 19:11-16).
As I drove home I was aware that the Christmas season was in full swing. I was beginning to see mangers everywhere. I thought with wonder about Jesus who is, "the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation; because by Him everything was created, in heaven and on earth, the visible and the invisible, whether thrones or dominion or rulers or authorities--all things have been created through Him and for Him" (Colossians 1:15-16). What a picture of incredible grace! That this same Jesus would humble Himself to be born into poverty--such a picture of love that stoops down and offers salvation to those who hung Him on the cross.
I thought about this picture of grace, but then I could almost hear a shout from heaven and I thought about His glory. "Look! He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him, including those who pieced Him. And all the families of the earth will mourn over him. This is certain. Amen" (Revelation 1:7). My mind, my heart, my soul, my spirit are filled with wonder as I meditate on His grace and glory.
I listened a while in the darkness, but because of my ever encroaching deafness I found it difficult to follow what was being said. I could hear the hum of their voices rising and falling, but my attention was drawn to the starlit sky and I let my mind move in that direction.
"Then I saw heaven opened, and there was a white horse! Its rider is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness He judges and makes war. His eyes were like fiery flame, and on His head were many crowns, He had a name written that no one knows except Himself. He wore a robe stained with blood, and His name is called the Word of God. The armies that were in heaven followed Him on white horses,wearing pure white linen. From His mouth came a sharp sword, so that with it He might strike the nations. He will shepherd them with an iron scepter. He will also trample the wine-press of the fierce anger of God, the Almighty. And on His robe and on His thigh He has a name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS" (Revelation 19:11-16).
As I drove home I was aware that the Christmas season was in full swing. I was beginning to see mangers everywhere. I thought with wonder about Jesus who is, "the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation; because by Him everything was created, in heaven and on earth, the visible and the invisible, whether thrones or dominion or rulers or authorities--all things have been created through Him and for Him" (Colossians 1:15-16). What a picture of incredible grace! That this same Jesus would humble Himself to be born into poverty--such a picture of love that stoops down and offers salvation to those who hung Him on the cross.
I thought about this picture of grace, but then I could almost hear a shout from heaven and I thought about His glory. "Look! He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him, including those who pieced Him. And all the families of the earth will mourn over him. This is certain. Amen" (Revelation 1:7). My mind, my heart, my soul, my spirit are filled with wonder as I meditate on His grace and glory.
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