Thursday, March 31, 2011

Sorrow into singing

We are coming up on the 10th anniversary of my daddy's death on april 3. In so many ways, it seems like yesterday. But one of the things I remember most clearly is that Easter sunday which followed shortly after his death. Needless to say, it was a bittersweet time--a year earlier he had been with us, celebrating the resurrection of our Lord. And a year and a half earlier, we had lost my mom unexpectedly less than 2 weeks before Christmas. We had lost two of the dearest people in the world to all of us a mere 18 months apart--one right before the celebration of Christ's birth and the other right before the celebration of His resurrection from the dead.
Sure, I recall the numbness, the sorrow, the just plain missing so badly the sound of their voice or their laugh. I missed being able to call them on the phone to tell them the latest funny thing one of the children had said or done. I missed their wise perspective. There is just nothing to prepare you for losing your parents. But, I also just as clearly remember the joy of contemplating what wonders they must have been experiencing right at that moment in heaven. While we grieved, they rejoiced. While we wept tears, they laughed with the angels. While we could still only see in part, they could see and understand fully and completely. I wondered if it was as if we still were seeing only in black and white and they were seeing in brilliant, glowing rainbows of colors. I can still recall walking a few nights after mama died and hearing bells pealing and through my tears sensing that she was hearing the joyous pealing of bells in wondrous celebration of finally, truly being home for Christmas. As I have so often shared with others who have lost loved ones, I learned that you can have deep pain in your heart and yet a song in your soul. That Easter after Daddy's death, the resurrection held a whole new joy for me for I knew that because our Saviour lived, my daddy lived too!
I have often thought about this strange yet wonderful paradox. And then the other day as I was reading the classic book, The Incomparable Christ, I saw this very paradox reflected in the life of Christ. Of course, we all know He was both the man of sorrows and the man anointed with joy. But on the night before His crucifixion, right after the Lord Jesus shared the last supper with His disciples, Scripture records that "When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives." (Mt.26:30) I had never noticed that before--that, as Oswald Sanders put it, "The Saviour sang under the very shadow of the cross."
We even know what Jesus and His disciples sang, for at the Feast of Passover all Jews would sing Psalms 115-118, all originally one song known as "The Hallel" (which means "to praise"). One of the verses of that hymn would have been "This is the day that the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." (Ps.118:24) I've always loved this verse and have it displayed in our kitchen as a daily reminder to be present and joyful in each day the Lord gives us, but I'd never before realized it's proper context. This "day that the Lord has made" referred to the day of Jesus' crucifixion. We surely should rejoice in that terrible day for it resulted in our redemption, but how could our Saviour sing these words as He faced the unimaginable agonies of the cross? We cannot even begin to fathom the weight of all the sin, all the wrath of God, poured out upon the perfect One who had never known even a single tiny sin. But in Christ, despite sorrow, joy.
Sanders explains, "But not only did He go to the cross with a song on His lips, but the last words of the song [the Hallel] were words of thanksgiving: 'O give thanks unto the Lord for He is good,' With these words on His lips, and the shadow cast by the Passover moon, He led the little band to the Mount of Olives. What can we learn from the Passover Song? That we can turn our trouble into treasure and our sorrow into song. Faith can sing her song in the darkest hour. Sorrow and singing are not incompatible."
I wept as I read those words, for they were precisely my experience after my parents went home to be with the Lord. Faith had enabled me to sing even in the midst of sorrow. Because the Lord Jesus became incarnate in a crib at Christmas and then gave His life on a cross at Easter, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my parents are rejoicing in heaven and I will see them again. We truly can declare that the worst satan could devise, death, has lost it's sting, for Christ has given us the victory!
No matter what you are facing, no matter how seemingly hopeless or frightening, know that He who can turn sorrow into singing and trouble into treasure will enable you to sing even in the very shadow of your cross. And after the cross, comes the crown! He has saved the best for last, so don't put away that fork--dessert is coming! And keep on singing. To Him be the glory.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Paul's prayer for us

It has been another one of those weeks: sick children, interruptions, countless chores and errands. So much to do and time just seemed to slip by. By last night, I felt like I had hit a wall of discouragement and defeat. I needed to be working on a lecture I would be giving, but instead all I seemed to be doing was folding endless baskets of laundry, cleaning up the kitchen, taking children to the doctor, attending track meets, picking up and cleaning up and washing up... One of our children who is away at college got really sick and I added that to my list of worries and concerns--I felt helpless as he is far away at school and yet I felt heartsick that he was far away at school and sick and discouraged! You think that your hardest and most exhausting times as a parent will be when they are young, but when they grow up and are gone off, it is a whole different kind of mental exhaustion (that is much more challenging--it's worry without any control).
Yesterday I had assumed I would finally have a free day to spend in God's Word and work on this lecture, and instead, my youngest was at home sick. Now, I know this is not his fault and he did not do it intentionally to ruin his selfish mama's scheduled day, but there you have it! I spent the day going over all the make up work with him and wondering how on earth his class could possibly get his much done in one day. We laughed that he couldn't wait to get back to school and have a break from all this school work with his slavedriver mom! God certainly gave me clear confirmation (if I ever needed it) that He did not call me to homeschool!
When I fell into bed after dealing with an assortment of problems ranging from frustrating to ridiculous, I figured I'd get up really early and start to work on Bible study. Well, in the middle of the night, our youngest stood by the side of the bed and said he had a terrible ear ache. Bless his heart, it turned out he had a severe ear infection. So, after another night of very little sleep, I awoke exhausted and discouraged and overwhelmed with all I had to do.
I talked to the Lord and told Him all about it--shared my complaints and my frustrations and my disappointments. And when I was finally through moaning and fussing, our faithful Lord who never gives up on his most stubborn and slow-learning of children spoke to my heart: Pray the prayer! Okay, the prayer I'm referring to is the magnificent prayer in Ephesians 3:14-21. Ephesians 3 is the chapter we are studying in Bible study, and this prayer has blessed me as I've read it and contemplated it the past few days (hence the entry I wrote a few days ago on Eph. 3:20-21). What a prayer asking God for His power, His presence, His perception and His provision!
I've been reading it and praying it for my family and loved ones, but here's the thing, I'd been somehow missing it. Sure, I'd been praying for those things, but in the early morning darkness, it all became so real and alive to me. The words jumped off the page--they were for now, they were for us. It was if Paul sat in that dark prison just yesterday and was writing them just to us, right now, today. As I read the words in v.14 "For this reason I bow my knees before the Father" I got down on knees before the Lord, holding my Bible before Him. I prayed that He would "strengthen [us] with power through His Spirit in [our] inner being." (v.16) I asked the Lord to, right at that moment, enable us to be rooted and grounded in His love and that we would know and experience the overwhelming love of our Lord--the breadth (for God so loved the world), the length (that He gave His only Son), the depth (that whoever believes in Him should not perish), and height (but have eternal life) v.17-18. I asked the Lord to fill each member of my family--the sick ones, the discouraged ones, the preoccupied ones--with all the fullness of God. v.19
How often I seek the temporal over the eternal, the worldly over the spiritual. I want to pray for success and health and happiness for those I love. I'd been happy if God would answer this prayer with golf tournament wins for my son, with a perfect restoration to health of my children and my friends, with unblemished academic school success, with financial security, and while we're at it, world peace and happiness and joy! But praise the Lord He doesn't just seek to make me and the ones I love happy; He seeks to make us holy. He wants us to depend upon Him and to live with Him in an intimate moment by moment relationship. He reminds me that I don't need a genie-I need a Redeemer. I don't need a santa--I need a Saviour.
And so with Paul, we pray for inner strength. We pray that the Lord would not so much change our circumstances as change our souls. It's the inner strength and provision and presence of the Lord that will give us joy and peace in the midst of the stresses and strains of life. And isn't that the greatest miracle--when He changes us in the midst of our storms and gives us supernatural peace and power and joy?
So Lord, thank You for the problems of life that drive us to You. Thank You for never ever giving up on us. Thank You for Paul, chained in a prison for all those years and yet faithfully, joyfully, lovingly writing these words and these prayers for us. We pray them right now, in whatever prisons we are enduring right now, and ask You Lord, do it again! "Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to Him be the glory... forever and ever. Amen."

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Dislocated Joints

A few weeks ago, a dear friend of mine took a bad fall as she was leaving book club one night (yes, this is what happens to folks my age! We fall walking down the sidewalk rather than flying down the ski slope or parasailing in the tropics!). She dislocated her shoulder, and she said it was the worst pain she had ever felt in her life. Now mind you, she has had 5 children, so she knows a thing or two about pain! Moreover, she is one strong, athletic woman who played varsity basketball at UNC, so her pain threshold is far higher than average Joe's like me. She said the pain literally knocked her off her feet, and it was so intense that she could not even think or speak. One dislocated shoulder.
Then suddenly the other day it hit me: all His joints were dislocated. Psalm 22 prophesied the horrific crucifixion of the Lord Jesus. Apparently, the words of the Psalmist accurately predicted and portrayed what would happen in this Roman form of capital punishment--from raging fever to severe dehydration to the effect on the heart and on and on. But listen to Ps.22:14 "I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint."
Somehow that aspect of suffering slipped by me, since I was ignorant concerning the horrible pain resulting from a dislocated joint. My dear friend was in agony from one dislocated shoulder. My Saviour had every bone out of joint while He hung on the cross. And unlike my friend, He had already endured hours of scourging, beating, and abuse. He had been betrayed by His friends and humiliated and taunted by His enemies. And He, who had never known sin in His whole life, bore the awful, unimaginable weight of every sin that had ever been or would ever be committed, in His nail scarred, battered, bruised body.
And add to all that, the pain of dislocated joints. For you. For me. And I had never thanked Him for that. Such is the depth and breath and length and height of His love for us. Thank You Lord Jesus for bearing my sin on the cross. I cannot imagine Your pain...but O how I thank You. To You be the glory forever.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Now to Him who is able

Thank You Lord for this glorious day! This truly is the day You have made and I thank You that I can rejoice in it! The warmth, the sunshine, the chorus of birds outside, the brilliant red camellia bush outside my door, the ability to take a deep breath and think about Your goodness. Thank You Lord.
The other day, one of my children shared discouragement over an overwhelming workload at school, another child was frustrated over persistent crippling foot pain, another struggled with school work issues and on and on. I KNOW to PRAY and not worry. I know that I know that I know. But, forgive me Lord, I'm praying on the outside but fretting on the inside. I will hand over my cares and concerns to the Almighty and the next thing I know, I am anxiously twisting and turning them over in my mind like some mental rubric's cube, and I forfeit the peace and joy and strength the Lord longs to give me. The Lord demonstrates His faithfulness and provision over and over again and yet, along comes a bump in the road, and I'm ready to run off the road in panic and despair.
I don't know why the Lord puts up with the likes of me! If I were God, I certainly wouldn't. O, but for this we have Jesus. "But God shows His love for us in that, while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Rom. 5:8 Did you notice, there's another one of those, "but God's?" We mess up, we fail, we fall, we flounder...but God. We know we are to pray and not worry, and yet we do just the opposite...but God died for us even knowing we would fail again and again all the way to heaven. We know we are to rely on His power and strength and yet we get busy doing things in our own paltry strength and we crash and burn. And as we lift our bleary eyes from the ashes, He gently reminds us "but God" died for all our crashes and mess ups and, incredibly, He loves us just as much as if we never sinned. Who can explain a love like that?!
Okay, I digress. Here's what I was thinking about this morning. We are studying the book of Ephesians in Bible study, and Eph. 3:20 has come to my mind over and over. "Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly that all we ask or think, according to the power at work within us" (and v. 21 "to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen." Amen to that!!) Driving back from carpool, it was if the Lord said, "break it down and really think about all this is saying to you, Emily!" "Now"--right at this moment. Today. What do you need today? His power and provision are available to us right at this minute--whether we are driving children around or doing laundry or going to work or sitting by a loved one's bedside or encouraging a desperate friend. He is the eternal God of NOW! Sure, eternity is coming, praise God, but right now, right in the ditches and muddy pits of our everyday lives He is here and available now!
"To Him"--okay, so don't take it for granted--it's Him, Almighty God, Creator, Sustainer, Redeemer. The Alpha and Omega, the very very beginning and the very very ultimate end (if there were an end!) The omniscient, the omnipresent, the omnipotent--think of a word and put omni in front of it and you get the idea! Sort of makes you calm down when you realize the Lord who created the vast solar system is with you and He can handle whatever you are facing right this very moment, doesn't it?
"Who is able"--what can I say? He is able! He is able! He is able! He is able! He is able! He is able! Tell yourself that a thousand times of day when dread and worry and inadequacy threaten to swamp your little boat--you are not able "but God" is able! O let me say it again, because I love to hear it--HE IS ABLE!
And it that were not enough: He is able "to do"--He can do it. Now, I'm a big doer. When there's a problem, I immediately shift into "what can I do" mode. (You did notice that pronoun, "I," didn't you?) Who can I call? Who can I ask? What can I do to make this problem go away? What can I say or do... But He is able to do. For pete's sake, we need to go to Him and ask Him "to do" what we can't. I can get lost going to the grocery store. I can't remember the name of my son's dorm room (pathetic, I know). I can't seem to get rid of clutter or stop eating sweets or cease nagging my children. But He is able to do what I can't. Thank You Lord!
But He doesn't just "do" a little. That would still be pretty spectacular, you know, since He is the Lord of the universe, so His little would be waaaaaay waaaaaaay beyond anything I could ever do. "But God" is able to do "far more abundantly than all we ask or think." Unbelievable. I don't even know how to comment on that! Who can even get their minds around that? "Far more abundantly"--God's "abundantly" is like the difference between a the ocean and a microscopic drop of water. And He does abundantly more than we could ever even dream up in our wildest and most improbable of dreams. Our minds can range pretty far--He is so far beyond that we can't even come up with a metaphor! Paul just says it best "far more abundantly than all we ask or think." Wow. That is power.
But here's the ridiculous part: "According to the power at work within us." That superabundant, supernatural power is at work IN US! The God of eternity and space has placed His power within us as He works in us and through us to His glory. What kind of God would do that?--give away His power to frail, failure-prone people? What kind of God would give His power to those who He knows will reject Him and refuse to listen to Him?
"For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16
Look at the cross and You will see what kind of God. Such is our Saviour and there is none other. And whatever you are facing, right now...He... is able... to do... abundantly more... than all we ask or think... according to the power at work in us. With Paul we say, "to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen."

Monday, March 14, 2011

No more death

Just a few days ago, my husband and I left the home of some friends who had just lost their 27 year old son who had died in his sleep. Grief and pain etched deeply on their faces, how I longed to be able to do something, to say something to ease their sorrow. But what could be said, what could be done to lift such an unimaginable burden? Only our heavenly Father knows such a fearsome, searing loss for He gave His only, beloved Son on our behalf. And once again, I am confronted with His sacrificial love that is beyond comprehension.
Jesus, too, knew the horrific price of sin and death. He lost His earthly father, Joseph. But it is the loss of His dear friend, Lazarus, that always moves me. When their brother was desperately ill, Mary and Martha immediately asked Jesus to come to heal him, as He had healed so many others. But Jesus waited, knowing that Lazarus would die and knowing that He had a greater plan than any of them could imagine, for as He told His disciples, "Lazarus has died and for your sake I am glad that I was not there, so that you may believe." (John 11:14-15)
When Jesus finally arrived, Lazarus had been dead four days. Jesus, the Omnipotent One, knew all this. Moreover, He knew that He was about to raise Lazarus from the dead...and yet, Scripture tells us that "Jesus wept." (John 11:35) He wept at the terrible price of sin. He wept at the sorrow and unremitting pain of death. He wept for the grieving friends and relatives. He grieved for a world marred by death and loss and separation and disappointment and betrayal and fear. Jesus wept for a world where young sons die. Jesus wept for a world where earthquakes and tsunamis wipe out entire villages, destroy thousands of innocent lives, and decimate homes and farms and businesses. Watching the horrific destruction and death in Japan, we weep. And Jesus weeps.
Because this is not how it was supposed to be.
But this is not how it will always be either.
Jesus tells Mary and Martha "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in Me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die." John 11:25-26 Moments later Jesus demonstrated the truth of what He had just said, as He goes to the tomb, already smelling of decomposition and death and commands "Lazarus, come out." (John 11:43) "The man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, 'Unbind him, and let him go." (John 11:44) From death to life. From bound to free. From sorrow to joy. Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life and He truly makes all things new. New life. New hopes. New beginnings. New mercies.
How we praise Him that when we have lost a dearly loved child or parent or friend or sibling, if they are in Christ, then we WILL see them again. We can take that to the bank--they are not actually "lost" for we know exactly where they are and we know with certainty that we will find them again one day...for all of eternity.
But for now, we grieve--just as Jesus grieved for the death of His beloved friend whom He knew He was about to raise from the dead. We weep for all the years we will miss talking to them on the phone or laughing with them or hugging them or watching them grow and change. We weep for the missed opportunities and the missed commonplace moments that we took for granted but that we so long for now. We weep because we miss their advice or their jokes or their eccentricities or their smile.
Yet in the midst of our grieving and pain, Jesus comes to us and whispers to us, "It will not always be this way. Take heart. Look unto Me." Early the other morning, as I pondered all the sorrow of this family's loss and the tragedy in Japan, I read these words: "Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the the throne saying, 'Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God Himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. And He who was seated on the throne said, 'Behold, I am making all things new.'" Rev.21:1-5
What unspeakable joy--a world without tears and pain and death and failure! A world made new and perfect, redeemed by the One who died to save it. A world where we never say "goodbye" or "I'm sorry" or "O no" or "not again." Thank You Lord Jesus for the promise and hope of heaven. Thank You that You are the Resurrection and the Life. And thank You for dying for us that we might live with You and our loved ones forever and ever and ever. To You be all the glory.

Friday, March 11, 2011

The glorious forsaking

That glorious form, that light insufferable,
And that far-beaming blaze of majesty,
Wherewith He wont at heaven's high council table,
To sit the midst of Trinal Unity,
He laid aside; and here with us to be,
Forsook the courts of everlasting day,
And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay.
John Milton

Can we ever get over the wonder of that?...That the Sovereign Lord of the universe, the second part of the Trinity, the Lord Jesus, willingly "laid aside" all, and "forsook the courts of everlasting day" and the attendant and infinite wonders of heaven in order to "chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay." How can it be? I think if we had even an inkling of all that our Saviour forsook to leave the throne of heaven as well as how far down He came to enter the miry, dark depths of humanity, we would be overwhelmed with gratitude and joy every single day of our lives. We cannot imagine the greatness of heaven nor the sordidness of our sin-sick world, but if we could but glimpse the stunning contrast between what He gave up and what He came to, all out of His love for us, we would never complain again about anything in our lives.
For truly, in comparison to the sacrifice of my Saviour, what is my "light and momentary affliction" in the words of Paul? Can I not "count it all joy," as my Lord did, as He faced the cross? Can I not give up my rights or my desires and take up my cross and follow Him? Surely I can die to myself and my selfishness when I gaze at Him and contemplate what He did. What sacrifice can be too great when I consider the sacrifice that He made for me?
The great Scottish preacher from the early 1800's wrote: "For every look at yourself, take ten looks at Christ." Preoccupation with self always results in discouragement and defeat and despair. Preoccupation with Christ always results in praise and perspective and personal victory over sinful attitudes.
So today, look up and rejoice in a Saviour who forsook the most glorious in order to chose the most lowly and ignominious all for the love of you and of me. To Him be the glory!

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Two mighty words!

Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day that many Christians observe as Lent--a time to focus upon the Lord Jesus, remember the sufferings of our Saviour, and remember all that Christ has done for us. I am reading a chapter a day (roughly) over the course of Lent from the classic devotional book, The Incomparable Christ, by Oswald Sanders (and listening to Nancy Leigh DeMoss as she focuses on this book during Lent). I have already been so challenged by fixing my gaze on the Lord Jesus and contemplating who He is and what He has done for us. How convicted I am that I need to gaze at Christ and glance at all else. All too often, however, in the frenetic busyness of life, I gaze in rapt attention at all the world has to offer while giving a merely passing glance at my Saviour. I pray that this Lenten season will change all that for me--for good.
Just the other day, I was studying Ephesians 2, and the Lord pierced my heart anew with what He has done for the world on the cross. Paul emphasizes in the first 3 verses of chapter 2 how dead we all are before Christ saved us. "And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air..." v.1-2. We were children of wrath: doomed, desperate, depraved. We were prisoners of our sinful habits and desires, "having no hope and without God in the world." v.12
I don't know about you, but I tend to forget that! I tend to get so comfortable in the world that I forget I deserved nothing but everlasting punishment and hell. I forget that, like that death row prisoner, sitting alone--hopeless and helpless--with no real future, no real freedom and no joy or peace or security save the bars of my prison cell of pride and selfishness and envy and bitterness.
And then Ephesians 2:4 begins with 2 of the most beautiful words in the english language: "But God..." Isn't that just the Gospel in a nutshell? "But God being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together in Christ--by grace you have been saved--and raised us up with Him and seated us with HIm in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus so that in the coming ages He might show the immeasurable riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing: it is the gift of God." Eph.2:4-8
But God. Adam and Eve would have perished in their sin...but God. Noah would have drowned with the rest of the hopelessly corrupt world...but God. Abraham would have died without an heir, his wife old and barren...but God. Rahab would have died when the walls of Jericho came tumbling down...but God. Failure would have been failure after the defeat at Ai of Joshua and the Israelites...but God. O, we could go on and on. Peter would have been finished and rejected after he betrayed His Lord 3 times...but God. The Christian hating Saul would have continued in his blind and hateful opposition to the Saviour...but God. Jonah, Judah, David, Samson, John Mark, Thomas--the list goes on and on--would all joyfully proclaim...BUT GOD!! And I, wretched and lost and hopeless, would have never known the joy, the peace, the wonder, the security, the love, the grace, the infinite "spiritual blessings in the heavenly places" (Eph.1:3)...but God.
But God! But God! But God! Might it be our song throughout eternity: that our Saviour left the throne of heaven and while we were imprisoned in our sin and greed and selfishness and depravity, God broke through time and space and entered His planet to redeem His creation. To the parent worried sick over a prodigal child, never forget...but God. To those struggling with broken bodies or broken marriages or broken finances, remember...but God. To the hopeless and helpless and heartbroken, o please recall...but God.
There is no place He cannot go, no situation He cannot transform, no relationship He cannot restore, no sin He cannot redeem, no heart He cannot heal. But God--the Gospel in two beautiful words. Might we reflect upon our beautiful, immeasurable, incomparable Saviour this Lenten season and to Him be the glory forever.