Seeing and Believing

     As we drove up to the mountains late yesterday, we rounded a bend in the road, and suddenly, there in the far distance, were those beautiful blue peaks outlining the horizon.  That first glimpse of God's gift of the hills never fails to amaze and excite us.  "There they are!" Peter shouted excitedly from the backseat.  And your heart lifts ever so slightly at the sight and the anticipation.
     But just as suddenly as they appeared, we rounded another curve, and the mountains momentarily disappeared.  Seemingly vanished completely.  Where had they gone?  No where, of course!  Those majestic hills still sat just as serenely and solidly has they had a moment earlier... or a thousand years earlier.   They had not vanished or moved one iota... we were the ones who had moved.  The reality of the mountain's presence had not altered, only our vision, our perception, of them had changed.  And sure enough, a few curves later,  there they were again... only this time a wee bit bigger.  We now could see them even better and more clearly.  Still there... only bigger and better!
     Same thing with this view of the valley.  I've taken this same shot at least 100 times off the porch of our house overlooking the valley below.  On a sunny day, you can clearly see Pilot Mountain, looking as one of our children describes it, "like the top of baby bottle sticking straight up."  We've taken beautiful photos of Pilot Mountain at sunrise and sunset and everything in-between.  I know it's there.  I'm telling you that it is absolutely there... but you can't see it in this photo, can you?  Nope, just some trees, a single soaring bird, and an extremely cloudy valley.  Those pesky clouds obscure our vision of the reality beyond our porch.
     God has given us His promises.  He has given us His Son.  He has given us eternal life.  He has given us heaven.  Our vision, our perception, clouded as it so often is by our sinfulness, our doubt,  our circumstances, does not change the reality, the "real," rock-solid Truth behind God's gift of salvation, of abundant, eternal life, and behind every single one of His promises.  Some days we contentedly feel that joyous reality deep in our marrow.  We know that we know that we know.  We feel His presence, His pleasure, His goodness, His grace.  And, boy, it is a tiny foretaste of heaven!
     But then on other days, we waiver.  We struggle to truly see--to see with our hearts, to see with our faith that which is unseeable.  Like Peter walking on the water to Jesus, buoyant and exhilarated, we suddenly look around at our circumstances and focus on the waves and not the Savior.  And we begin to flail around and sink.
     Don't we all have them: those doubting, darkened days?  Those times when our young children seem to stay sick, sleep flees, and we feel exhausted, depleted and discouraged.  Or those times when we deal with criticism or unfair treatment or betrayal.  Or we feel overwhelmed with the strain of caring for a loved one--whether elderly or prodigal or ill or difficult or seemingly unlovable.  Maybe it's worry or waiting or weakness that has us failing to see and believe that our Father is really there and that all His promises are true.
     Can we trust even when we cannot see?
     All I know is that Pilot Mountain is there even though my vision is momentarily blocked.
     And the mountains do not move or disappear even when they are completely absent from our view.  They stand strong and immovable... always there, always faithfully beckoning to those who would come closer, look and see.
      Such are God's promises made to each of us in His Word.  Immovable, eternal, powerful, unchanging, supernatural... all real and rock-solid and TRUE.  He has not left you.  He has not changed.  He has not moved.  He is only a breath away, a prayer away.  We just need to stop seeking to measure Him and His promises against our circumstances and instead measure all our circumstances against Him.  Measure all against His greatness, His love, His power,  His faithfulness, His kindness, His grace.
     Believe Him... and then see.  Fix our gaze upon Him in His Word and then see the clouds begin to dissipate and the vision clear.  Keep traveling closer to Him, keep seeking Him in the midst of the journey, and suddenly around those bends in the road, you find your vision of Him bigger and better and greater than ever before.  Isn't it funny how the bends in the road, those struggles and strains of life that momentarily block our vision, always ultimately result in our having a closer, clearer vision of Him and His glory?  But it sometimes takes some time.. and trust.
     "Let not your hearts be troubled.  Believe in God; believe also in Me,  In My Father's house are many rooms.  If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to Myself, that where I am you may be also." (John 14:1-3)
     So many glorious promises--this one I read  just this morning.  Having lost a good friend recently, how I rejoice in this reality--a place for us, a place for our loved ones--lovingly, completely, perfectly, faithfully prepared by the Lord Jesus!  And He's promised to come back and take every single one of His children home to their new and glorious and eternal abode.  Maybe we can't see it... but it's there, because He said so.  The real reality of a future home so much greater and bigger and better and more glorious than this one we see now.   I can't see it yet... but I believe!
     Lord, help us to believe, even when we cannot see.  Teach us to trust You and Your Word even when clouds come along or curves in the road block our view.  For we know You are there, You even now are preparing our eternal, perfect home, and You will never leave us or forsake us.  Help us,  Father, to believe and then to see.  For a vision of You is glorious and beautiful beyond all our imagining!
     To our faithful, eternal, immovable, Rock and Savior, be all the glory forever.

Packing

     Just for the record, this was not my packing job.  Our youngest son, anxious to get on the road to the mountains, figured he'd devised an ingenious plan to carefully choose, fold, and pack his clothes. Please see the above laundry bag stuffed with clothing he found in under 2 minutes.  Who needs a suitcase?  What could be better than a laundry bag jammed with everything you need?  Easy access every morning--just reach in and whatever you pull out, voila, your outfit for the day!  And I can only imagine how neat and organized this will all be in his room in the mountains.  Sigh.
     Despite our pathetic packing job (I'm not much better as I tend to bring everything, and I mean everything, needed to survive a prolonged siege or possible nuclear attack... especially chocolate), we managed to arrive in the mountains and happily unloaded.  Boy, there's just nothing like getting in the car one place, sweaty and grumpy, and magically, just a few hours later, stepping out of the car in a whole new world of beauty and cool temperatures.
     But just one comment on packing for trips:  Moses detests packing.  Seriously, he all but told us so.  The moment he sees the first bag appear in the hall, he adopts a worried, pitifully anxiety-ridden expression on his face.  This must be the origin of the phrase "hang dog look," because believe me, when the suitcases come out, that's his look.  As soon as we begin loading the car, well then he walks back and forth with us to the car, ever alert to the possibility of jumping in the car and refusing to get out, even on pain of death.
     Doesn't matter what we do--put out his leash and dog bowl so he knows he's going, repeatedly reassure him that he's going, give him extra treats and attention, constantly remind him that we've never left him behind--he's just one desperate dog.  But when we finally tell him to jump in the car--joy and rapture.
     And when we finally arrive in the cool, fragrant mountains, everyone's thrilled, especially Moses.  Here he is with a smile on his face, resting in the grass while watching us unpack our plethora of bags, groceries, books, and chocolate:

        But how often does this reflect my worried attitude?  You can learn a lot from your dog, and Moses clearly has my propensity towards fretting.  When will Moses and I learn?!  God has it!  He's had it all along.  He's got everything under control, and we just need to trust Him.  Has He ever left me behind?  Has He ever failed to meet my needs?  Just because there may be a few disquieting signs on the horizon, surely this is no reason to cause us to doubt our ever faithful Lord!  Those bags sitting in the hall that cause Moses such consternation, ultimately will result in the blessing of mountains for our dog.  And those things that cause us to grow anxious and discouraged will just as surely be used by God for His glory and our good.
     God commands us "Do not be anxious about anything; but in everything, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Phil. 4:6-7)
     How often I need to remind my restless heart:  anxious about nothing, prayer and thanksgiving about everything.  And trust that the Savior who gave His all, His very life, so that we need never ever be left behind, will be with us on the journey and will bring us all joyfully home.
     Moses, don't worry: we've got you.  And God has us every step of the way too. He will never leave us or forsake us. (Heb.13:5)  He's promised in His Word and that which God promises, He always always always fulfills.  Time to jettison the worry and enjoy the journey with our ever faithful Father.  To God be the glory.

The Start... or the Finish?

     If you call our house anytime during the next two weeks, don't be surprised if you get the answering machine.  Why, you might ask?  Well, duh, the Olympics!  If there is laundry to be folded or counters to be cleaned or dinner to be cooked, it will be completed vigorously and with a vengeance while anxiously watching and rooting for Michael or Gabby or Missy or any athlete under the sun whose story we learn and thus admire and cheer on.  For many of us, or at least embarrassingly for me, the Olympics brings out the competitiveness/loss of perspective when it comes to sports, on steroids (absolutely no pun intended).  I watch gymnastics late into the night and then can't fall asleep for fretting over that fall on the balance beam or that stumble on the vault.  Or the swimming, gracious, those hundredths of a second finishes just about undo me as I yell at the TV to "GO  GO GO, push it push it."  My family has banished me to another room.
    But that's okay, because I love it all.  Swimming, running, biking, jumping, volleyball... who knows, maybe even fencing this year.  I do draw the line at boxing and weightlifting.  I girl has to have some standards.
    There's just something about watching dedicated athletes who have sacrificed, sweated, trained, worked, focused, and given their all to gain the victor's prize.  Or for many, just doing their best, giving their best effort at the ultimate event, the Olympics.  How can you not love it?
     This morning, though, God reminded me of a very simple lesson: it's not how you start; it's how you finish.  I don't know about you, but I'm prone to forget that.  (And sometimes especially with my children.)  I watched an women's swimming heat (a heat, mind you, not even the final--I can even get worked up and worried over a heat, for pete's sake).  The American favorite, and one of the favorites for the race, started out waaaay back.  "Come on, " I fussed, "Don't let that German and Chinese and Russian and Australian and who knows who else beat you!" (Like I said, it was not going well at first.)   But that was just after the first lap... and then the second.  By the third lap, she was at least gaining on them, and by now I'm shouting.  "GOOOO!  You can do it!!"
      Something remarkable happened at the turn on the third lap: she went from about third to first in a manner of moments.  And guess what?  She cruised to victory--blew everyone away.  "USA!  USA!" I chanted to Moses.  He seemed pretty excited as well, even though I explained to him that this was only a heat.  Mercy, I may have to take a sedative before the actual finals.
     But amidst my celebrating, the Lord pointed out to me my tendency to forget that it's not over till it's over.  That sometimes where we begin, those halting and faltering initial steps, will not be where we finish.
     It's not how you start... it's how you finish that matters--in races and in life.  With us adults and with our children.  Just because we--or they--failed or struggled in the past, doesn't mean that is our, or their, destiny.  Sometimes, we just need to keep plugging, keep trying, keep working, and keep trusting that God is not finished with us yet.
     Paul put it this way: "And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ." (Phil.1:6)   Or  "Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you completely; and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.  He who calls you is faithful; He will surely do it." (I Thess. 5:23-24).
     We are His workmanship, and He always always always completes that which He started... not somehow but triumphantly!   Our job is to just keep praying, keep trying, keep trusting.  He's promised to do the rest.  We just have to stay in the race... God will make sure we win it at His appointed end.
     And guess what?  I've read the end of the story... and it's gonna be great!  So keep training and trying and trusting all the way to the finish line.  To God--the finisher and perfecter of our faith--be all the glory.

Trash into Treasure

     Bet I know what you're thinking: "What on earth?  Has she totally lost her mind?  That looks like an old Sprite box."  And you would be correct--on both counts.  I think I lost my mind about three children ago, and yes, this is in fact, a dilapidated, empty Sprite box.  Now, granted on the surface, this might appear to be some insignificant trash sitting on top of our battered old fridge in the garage. And again, that would be partly correct.
     But there are two things that make this box a bit special.  First of all, our children love Sprite, so this represents a somewhat rare, but greatly appreciated, treat around our house.  Please don't report me to the  nutrition gurus--trust me, it's a losing battle, at least with our boys.
     But secondly, though this box appears empty, it is not.  It actually houses a treasure hidden deep within it's flimsy cardboard walls:

     Granted, my photography skills leave something to be desired, but can you identify those little grey balls of fluff?  Baby birds!  A mama bird searching for a good place to build a nest and have her babies, looked all around, all over this big wide world filled with trees and bushes and all manner of foliage... and choose an old empty Spite box on top of an ancient fridge inside a disorganized garage!  Yep, there's no accounting for taste, is there?  I couldn't help but think of the old saying, "One man's trash is another man's treasure."  Thank goodness my husband warned me that he thought he saw a bird flying in and out of this box, as I was just preparing to throw it into the recycle bin!
      After another bird family grew up in the hanging fern on the kitchen porch and then flew away a few months ago, we sadly figured we had seen the last of them.  But nope, looks like we are back in the baby bird business! Every few minutes I can hear a faint "cheep cheep cheep" when Mama bird apparently flies in with her worms or whatever other delicacies she feeds her brood.  The only downside to all this: whenever we walk through the garage, the mama bird suddenly flies out in terror--nearly causing me a heart attack every time.
     God just makes a way, doesn't He?  Who would have thought an old, good-for-nothing discarded box could house new life?  But isn 't that what our Lord does with us?  He takes trash and makes treasure.  He takes that which the world might say is washed up, finished, hopeless, or hapless and transforms it by His redeeming power into something beautiful and worthy and wonderful.  He loves to take nobodies and use them to change the world--from the prostitute Rahab to the foreign, penniless widow Ruth to the the shepherd boy David to the uneducated fishermen Peter to the blind Bartimaeus to the self-righteous, murderous Paul and on and on.   Give God some trash, and in His hands, He'll bring forth treasure.
     Just this morning I read these words from Isaiah 43:16-19: "Thus says the Lord, who makes a way to the sea, a path in the mighty waters... Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old.  Behold, I am doing a new thing, now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?  I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert."
     God always makes a way--He makes "a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert"... and bird nests and baby birds out of trashy Sprite boxes.  Who would've thought?  But sometimes we need to put those past failures and false starts and missed opportunities to bed, and allow God to do a new thing.  Trust that He is moving and making a way even when we cannot see a path forward.  Trust that He can do immeasurably more than all we can ask or imagine (Eph.3:20) even with our meager offerings, our small strength, our little abilities, our minuscule hope.
     But it's not about us.  It's about Him... and HE IS ABLE!!   And He is in the transformation business--trash into treasure, past failure into future glory, emptiness into fullness.  We see it over and over again in His Word and in His world.  "As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today," Joseph tells his brothers in Gen.50:20.  That's what our redeeming Savior does--evil into good, sorrow into rejoicing, Sprite boxes into baby birds.
     Help us, Lord Jesus, to trust You even in our struggles and failures and limitations, for we know You are working and transforming and redeeming... even when we cannot see or understand.  Thank You for new life, Father!  To God, our Transformer and Redeemer, be all the glory.

Fighting for God's glory

     As I sat looking out the broad glass windows overlooking the golf course, waiting (anxiously) for my son to finish his round of golf in the tournament, I read these words from John 12:42-43:"Nevertheless, many even of the authorities believed in Him, but for fear of the Pharisees they did not confess it, so that they would not be put out of the synagogue, for they loved the glory that comes from man more than the glory that comes from God."  Think of it, these were folks, even many leaders in the Jewish community, who heard Jesus' teaching, perhaps saw His miracles, and believed.  They were believers in the Son of God, the Messiah, the omnipotent One... but they were more afraid of some Pharisees, some men, than they were afraid of and awed by God Almighty!
     And "they loved the glory that comes from man more than the glory that comes from God."  Consider for a moment: what an incredibly foolish and ridiculous tradeoff they made.  They preferred man's fleeting, fickle accolades, here today and forgotten tomorrow,  to the glory of the all powerful, eternal God of the universe!  His glory never fades, never falters, never diminishes one iota even out into incalculable billions and trillions of years.  His glory fully satisfies.  His glory awes.  His glory astonishes.
     And man's?  Well, ask the folks who just unceremoniously removed the statue of the revered, winningest coach in NCAA history: Joe Paterno.  Man's glory is fickle and often rests upon the wrong foundations.  Quick, can you name the winner of the Heisman Trophy five years ago... or even last year?   The richest, the smartest, the prettiest, the most talented--you name it, it comes and goes, forgotten and empty. We all know that the accolades and perks that come with fame and success in this world prove to be fleeting at best... and often ultimately devastatingly destructive.
     So, these guys who surely should have known better, who knew God, who believed,  they still feared man, not God.  And sought man's glory, not God's.  Thank goodness we never do that.  Yeah, right.
     John Piper recently wrote: "If you love the glory of man, you do not love the glory of God."   We can't have it both ways--we love one or the other, we seek after and yearn for one or the other.  And it is a fight we all have to wage every single day of our lives--fight our sinful, shallow nature that craves man's applause rather than God's.  It's called pride, and it will take us down.  Pride--that seeking after the glory of man--promises much but delivers precious little.  And it always results in disillusionment and ultimately emptiness and despair.
     The answer?  We fight it--tooth and nail, by the power of God.  We wage war against our misplaced affections.  We continually return to the cross, daily, hourly, asking God to forgive us and help us to fix our hearts and our affections upon His glory.   Seeking to make much of Him, rather than much of me. Asking Him to be ever increasing while we ever decrease.... so that we might see and experience and revel in His glory.
     Paul fought this fight.  John Piper is fighting this fight.  Even Billy Graham and the godliest person you know. Every single one of us who loves the Lord Jesus must tenaciously wage war against our love of man's glory rather than God's.  As John Piper wrote,  the war is between our affection and love for man's glory and applause versus our love and affection for God's glory and "We are all fighting to love God most."
     Nothing compares to the glory of God.  Help us, Father, to remember that and enable us, by Your almighty power, to wage a victorious fight within ourselves to yearn after, to love, to seek, and to see Your glory, not man's, in our lives and in this world.  Keep us fighting and faithful, Father.  And to God--and God alone--be ALL THE GLORY!

God and golf... again!

     Well, it's day three in Florence, SC, for a golf tournament with our 15 year old son.  He begins his second round of play in just a little while, and I must say, this whole golf thing has proven to be mighty nerve-wracking.  I thoroughly enjoy walking along on a golf course and watching my boys play golf.  What's not to love: fresh air, beautiful verdant grass, trees and flowers, all kinds of wildlife (we've seen deer, a bear, foxes, hawks, bunnies, and who knows what else!), and time spent ambling along with people you love, enjoying the sunshine and the gift of God's creation.
     That is, however, unless it's a golf tournament.  Then all bets are off.   While following any of our boys in a golf tournament, I'm always pretty certain that I will either drop dead of a heart attack or throw up.  I'm thinking my boys would prefer the heart attack since it would be a tad less humiliating for them.  My husband does not have this problem.  Sure, he wants them to play well and feel good about their game, but he does not stress to the point of needing immediate medical attention. But that's a man for you.  How pathetic that I can't just relax and enjoy it more, but sadly, relaxation and competition--especially involving people I love--are not compatible with this Mama.
     Apparently our boys can sense my nerves.  How can this be when my husband has vehemently instructed me to always stay well ahead of the golfers on the hole?   I've tried this, but my nerves remain just as taunt, and, somehow, though the boys can barely glimpse me way up ahead on the hole, they can sense my tension.  I don't think it helps when I gasp audibly when they miss a putt.  Mind you, I never intend to do this.  It just happens as a result of my love... and lousy perspective as to what really matters.
     Clearly, my sons' character, sportsmanship, and love of the Lord should matter immeasurably more in my heart and mind  than whether they make a putt or drive the ball deep into the woods (though I confess, this causes much weeping and gnashing of teeth--with me, that is, not them).  And those character and pursuit of God issues are infinitely higher and greater in my priorities... until I'm following a child at a golf tournament.  And then, like I said, perspective and wisdom all too often flee and are replaced by worry, fretting, and Murphy's Law.  You recall Murphy's Law don't you?  It's the law that dictates whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.  My theme song when it comes to sports--especially golf and Tarheel basketball.  What ever happened to rejoicing and hoping and trusting in the Lord?!
      I confess this to my utter shame, and starting today, right now, seek, by the power and grace of the Lord Jesus, to do better... to maintain a more sanguine, wise perspective that trusts God and His ways and plans--even on the golf course during a golf tournament!   Isn't it funny how the Lord most often teaches and challenges and grows us in the small things of life?  We can sometimes more easily trust and rely upon Him in the big crises than in the minutia of daily living.  How often have I lost my temper over a messy bedroom or misplaced my joy over a lengthy to do list or sinned by fretting over a child's grade in school.
     Yet in one hundred years, what will any of that matter?!  When we get to heaven, will I still be complaining about all the weeds in my yard or questioning God about why He didn't allow my child to make some sports team?  Will I really be worried about the economy or the size of my thighs or broken appliances at the wrong time or the lack of vegetables in my child's diet?   I don't think so!
     And if it won't matter a hill of beans in thousand years or a hundred years or even a decade of years, why on earth am I allowing it to steal my peace, my joy, my love, and my witness right now?   We--or at least I--need to daily put on our "Hundred year glasses" to correct our myopic vision and regain a  proper, godly perspective.
     "You will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.  Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock." (Is.26:3-4)  Amen, Lord!  You promise that YOU will keep us in perfect peace if we will stay our minds upon You, because we trust in You.  We don't trust in our bank accounts or our homes or our families or our success or our education or our bodies... or our children's success in sports or school.  We trust in You, Lord, and so we keep our minds ever fixed upon You and Your goodness and greatness and grace and glory.
     So we take it one day, one hour at a time, and when our minds start to meander down those well-worn paths of worry or fretting, we choose to turn our gaze and our focus back upon our all-sufficent, all-knowing, all-powerful, all-loving Lord.  And we claim Your promise that when we trust in and fix our minds upon our everlasting Rock, You will give us Your supernatural peace and joy.
     Time for golf!  Lord, You know how weak and prone to wander this fallible sheep is, so keep me fixed upon You, trusting You, and rejoicing in You and Your ways... no matter the score or the missed putts or errant drives!  Put on those hundred year glasses and keep focused upon the the Rock.  To God--our Almighty, everlasting, ever dependable Rock--be all the glory.

   
 

"Do you believe this?"

     I wonder: what must it have felt like to have witnessed Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead?  We are so familiar with the story that we can forget this was an actual, real event with real people experiencing real emotions, real tears, real fear, real disappointment with God.
    Just for a moment, place yourself in that knot of mourners who, only days earlier, witnessed Lazarus gradually grow weaker, slowly sicker and sicker, all the while waiting and hoping for Jesus to come.  His desperate sisters, Mary and Martha, had sent for the Savior, knowing, indeed certain, that Jesus would come to their brother's rescue.  After all, think of how many folks Jesus had already healed--the blind, the lame, the bleeding, the disease-ridden.
     Now here was Lazarus--Jesus' dear friend, the man whom the Lord most often stayed with whenever He was in town, the man devoted to the Savior, determined to provide comfort,  hospitality, and rest to this One Lazarus believed was the Messiah.  This beloved and devoted friend of Jesus was sick, and he needed the Savior and needed Him NOW.  Lazarus' whole family, in fact, adored Jesus, followed Him, served Him, trusted and believed in Him.  So if ever there was a slam-dunk for Jesus coming and supernaturally healing someone, well, this was it.  Jesus would come.  He must come.
     But day after day after day, Jesus does not come.
     And Lazarus dies waiting for Him to come.  Do you suppose Lazarus felt abandoned or mystified?   Wonder if he doubted or despaired... or just wondered?
     What if you are Mary or Martha?   You suddenly find yourself, perhaps for the first time, doubting Jesus.  Doubting His goodness.  Doubting His love.  Doubting His ways and His plans.  Doubting His timing.  What are the first words out of Martha's mouth when Jesus finally arrives (a full 4 days after Lazarus' death): "Lord, if You have been here, my brother would not have died." (John 11:21)  Likewise, when Jesus approaches the sorrowing Mary, her first words are the same, "Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died." (John 11:32)
     If only.
     If only He had come.  If only He had come sooner.  If only He had had spoken a word of healing, even from a distance.  If only He had listened.  If only He had hurried or helped or healed in some way, in any way, then the outcome would have been--should have been--different for this devoted, dedicated follower.
     What are we to think, those of us standing by the tomb of Lazarus, weeping and wondering?  Or those of us who pray and pray for healing of a loved one or healing of a relationship or healing of an addiction or healing of some incurable disease... and God seems strangely absent or late or distant.   We may silently accuse Jesus, "Lord, if only You had been here..."  But Lazarus lies dead in the tomb these four days.   And our loved one grows sicker.   That addiction seems impossibly tenacious.  That relationship remains wounded and tenuous.  That prodigal child continues to struggle.
     And then Jesus commands, "Take away the stone." (v.39).  Martha judiciously answers, "Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days." (v.39)  How could there not be!  Lazarus is dead.  Absolutely, totally dead.  Decay has set in and mourning has been going on for four long days in Jesus' glaring absence.  Wouldn't we have responded in the same way?   Part accusation, part resentment, part incredulity at the audacity of Jesus' command.
     But deeply hidden within the heart of Martha was that tiny seed of faith, of hope beyond hope, that maybe just maybe... even now... could Jesus do something?  Just moments earlier Jesus had told her, "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.  DO YOU BELIEVE THIS?"   Does she believe?  Against all the evidence of four days of mourning her dead brother.   Despite her disappointment.  Despite her frustration at the Savior's delay and absence.  Despite all her doubts and fears and questions, will she believe?  Will we?
     Jesus again reminds Martha, after her comment about the odor of a dead man, "Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?" (v.40)  I don't pretend to understand all this--all this mystery in the will and ways of God.  Who can understand the mind of God or fully comprehend His plans and His timing?  In the words of that great old hymn "God moves in a mysterious way:"

1. God moves in a mysterious way
   His wonders to perform;
   He plants His footsteps in the sea
   And rides upon the storm.
2. Deep in unfathomable mines
   Of never failing skill
   He treasures up His bright designs
   And works His sov’reign will.
3. Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
   The clouds ye so much dread
   Are big with mercy and shall break
   In blessings on your head.
4. Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
   But trust Him for His grace;
   Behind a frowning providence
   He hides a smiling face.
5. His purposes will ripen fast,
   Unfolding every hour;
   The bud may have a bitter taste,
   But sweet will be the flow’r.
6. Blind unbelief is sure to err
   And scan His work in vain;
   God is His own interpreter,
   And He will make it plain.
7.      And so, as we stand, stunned and weeping, outside the tomb of our friend or our brother, Lazarus, we hear Jesus commandingly shout: "Lazarus, come out!" (v.43)  Silently we peer into the gloom of the darkened tomb, holding our breath, shocked, doubting... yet hoping... and wondering.  
8.     Until we see a dead man walking.  Bound by dirty linen wrappings.  Dead, yet shuffling into the light and into life and into the joyous arms of his weeping sisters... only now tears of joy, of laughter, of awe and wonder.  This, even this--Jesus has power even over this most hated, most formidable, most desperate enemy: death.  So we all stare at our dead friend and brother and stand amazed at such a Savior who defeats man's most ancient and despicable and powerful foe.  If Jesus can do this, what can't He do?  And if He can do this, if He promises that those who believe in Him, though they die, yet shall they live, well, then what ultimately need we fear?  He has conquered death, redeemed it, and promised that He will do the same for every one of us who believes in Him.  
9.      So the question remains, "Do you believe this?"  Do we trust Him when we can't understand?  Do we believe even when He seems to delay?  Do we trust even when His ways or His timing or His plans for us or our loved ones are not what we hoped and wanted and dreamed?  
10.      "Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?" Jesus tells us.  How many of us have been encouraged by the story of Lazarus?  How much greater and deeper and stronger and more glorious this one event, because Jesus didn't just heal a sick Lazarus but instead raised a dead Lazarus?  He can heal, sure, but He can also raise that which is dead and buried and hopeless to new life!  Jesus does His best work in a graveyard!  All saw the glory of God that day in an astounding, wonderful, life-changing way. 
11.      God does indeed "move in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform."  Might we too take "fresh courage" as we trust that the "clouds ye so much dread are big with mercy and shall break in blessings on your head."  The clouds of death, of disease, of delay, of disappointment with God, will yet break with unexpected mercy on our heads... and we will see the glory of God.  His delays are not denials... only displays of His sovereign power and plan that will ultimately be for our greater good and His greater glory.  
12.     He asks us to believe and trust even when we cannot comprehend--to trust the One who sees the whole picture and has all the power to accomplish that which is ultimately best, pleasing and perfect.  The choice is ours.  While we may wonder, while we wait, He asks us: "Do you believe this?"   Lord, like the father of the sick young child, we too answer, "Lord, I believe!  Help Thou my unbelief!"   Help us to see Your glory!  To God be the glory.  

Hummingbird, butterfly, or bee?

     Okay, so I'm not on the mountain anymore, but just had to include one more picture from our porch of a hummingbird sipping nectar from the hummingbird feeder.  What remarkable little creatures!  Their wings beat impossibly quickly, and they seem to dart through the air--seemingly zipping from one spot to another within a millisecond.  Just amazing!  And along with the loud humming, almost motor-like sound of their wings, they chirp!  We never realized that before and stand in awe that God could create a creature so compact--consisting solely, it seems, of swiftly beating transparent wings and a long thin needle-like beak-- that can also produce an audible chirping sound!  
     Our mountain porch overlooks huge butterfly bushes in the yard, and at all times of the day the bushes were filled with butterflies, bees and hummingbirds.  We loved gazing at them and observing the differing ways they each approached the sustenance provided by the beautiful purple flowers.  The hummingbirds, true to form, generally darted in and out, a sip here, a sip there, flitting and chirping, almost never stationary.  (The only time we ever saw them still was at this feeder, and even then, it was a rare and brief occurrence.)
     The butterflies were a bit more deliberate--but only a bit.  They too flitted and fluttered, but when they set down to enjoy a meal at one of the flowers, they would generally still their lovely wings and stay and sup for a more leisurely amount of time.  But the bees, well, those little guys were persistent and patient.  Once they found their flower, they locked in for sometimes minutes at a time.  They would seemingly disappear into the flower and did not come out, I suppose, till they had throughly had their satiated their appetites.
     Now, on the one hand, I could make much of the symbolism of speed eating and rushing through one's repast--as this would often represent our family.  Sigh.  Every night, I dream of a meal that everyone actually likes and actually eats--granted, this is an utter impossibility in our house, but hope springs eternal. Moreover, I envision the Fountains, a la the Waltons, eating, laughing, talking, and richly sharing over a long, leisurely meal.  Theoretically, it could happen.  If the apostle Peter could walk on water, then perhaps the Fountains might be able to all eat and savor such a meal.  But, suffice it to say, we have a looooong way to go when it comes to this dream!
     But I did ponder how we respond when it comes to eating God's Word.  Do we zip in and out like a hummingbird?  Do we rush in and just try to get something quickly, always alert to possible distractions and alternatives?  Lord, forgive us whenever this is our attitude--just another item on the to do list to be checked off before going on to our busy day.
    Or am I more like the butterfly?   Still with a fragmented mind, still rushing, but at least trying to pause and ponder what God is telling me in His Word.  At least trying to apply it to my life--even if I fail to slow down long enough to really munch and meditate upon His supernatural nectar.
     How I hope, however, to be more like the bee--digging down, seeking to be still and know and love Him better through His Word.  Not only asking "what is He teaching me, what is He telling me to do or to change" but asking the deeper, greater question: "what is He revealing about Himself here?  How do I see Christ here and how can I know, love, and worship Him better?"  Digging deep to know Him.  Taking time to savor His character--His grace, His forgiveness, His power, His patience, His love, His power.  For when we know and love Him better,  then we will then respond with daily lives consisting of better  attitudes and behavior and actions.  
     Help us to be bees, Father, who settle in and drink deeply of Your Living Water that fully satisfies and quenches our often restless hearts.  Help us seek to know and love You better today than yesterday, better this month than last month, better this year than last year.  Keep us moving deeper, Lord!  To God be the glory.

A sheep lost at the airport!

     Whew.  I've forgotten... can someone remind me again about the mountains?
     We've been back in the valley for a day or so and that mountain mentality took a momentary hiatus.  This morning we took our daughter, Janie, to the airport at 3:30 a.m.--yes, that is A.M., as in she had to be at the airport at 3:30 IN THE MORNING IN A RAGING THUNDERSTORM!  There is nothing like going to bed, knowing that you must get up by 3:00.  Trust me, you don't sleep a wink, certain every 15 minutes that it must already be time to rise and shine--in the pitch black dark--only to groggily glimpse the clock at 12:50, 1:15, 1:33 and on and on.
     We were all a bit grouchy as we staggered out the kitchen door at 3:15 (and our dog, Moses, looked throughly confused--"Is it time for my walk and breakfast already?  Why aren't you taking me?  I think I must be hungry.")   There are many advantages, however, to a 3:30 a.m. arrival time at the airport:  no traffic, incredibly quiet and peaceful, and plenty of parking to boot.  It was lovely... except for the driving rain and blinding lightning and eardrum-splitting thunder.
     But we made it in plenty of time to meet the rest of Janie's fellow travelers.  A group of 16 folks from our church is going to Kenya for a two week mission trip where they will be staying at an orphanage and helping out at various orphanages, prisons and schools.  She is awfully excited, and we are so thankful she will have this amazing opportunity to serve the Lord Jesus and see Him active and at work in such a beautiful yet challenging part of the world.  Thank You Lord!
     By the way, did I mention that when we got to the airport at 3:30 a.m.,  their plane had been cancelled  due to mechanical problems?
     Life is full of surprises... and I'm learning that I don't always respond in the most wonderful, godly way to some surprises.
     The cancellation of the first flight meant that the group would miss their next flight out of Washington, D.C.... and then their next flight out of Ethiopia... and then their next flight into Kenya.  All they had to do was reschedule 16 people with all their boxes of supplies for the villages (containing everything from school supplies to medical supplies to clothes for the children) and somehow miraculously get them all into Kenya through a seemingly infinite number of flight changes and connections.  Sigh.
     Suffice it to say, it was a long morning.  We drove out to the airport three separate times this morning--all before 7:45a.m.  We left the airport and returned home the first time after learning that the airlines had rescheduled the group, and they were due to fly out shortly.  Yeah!  But as soon as we got home, our daughter called from the airport to say things had fallen through, and they weren't leaving until tomorrow--joy, we get to go to the airport the next day at 3:30 AGAIN.  So, I drove back out to the airport to pick her up... only to learn that the airlines might have worked out another set of flights and could I just circle around the airport for a while.  No problem--I love driving around the airport at 6:00 a.m. while trying to stay awake and pray that the Lord would bless their trip and somehow allow them to get out of Raleigh today.
     After 25 minutes of circling, great news: they had it worked out and were flying out in a few minutes!  Thank You Lord!  I drive back home praising Jesus for answered prayer... and grateful that I still had time to exercise and take a long, hot shower before church.  Life is good.
     That is, until I arrived home, walked in the door and the phone rings.  The flights fell through again, and they are definitely not leaving until tomorrow.  I need to drive back out to the airport and pick up my daughter.  Not good for our carbon footprint.
     This is where the story gets ugly.  Because at this point, I no longer have a "mountain mentality."  Mountains, peace, trust,  butterflies and sunrises, walking with the Good Shepherd beside still waters--forgotten all about it.   Choosing my response to my circumstances?  Remembering that I can choose my attitude?  Yep, I thought about it, as I grumbled and fumed on my drive back out to the airport for the third time.  This time, I'm ashamed to say,  I fretted and fussed to the Lord.  "Why, Lord?  Why couldn't You answer our prayers for this mission trip?  This group is going to serve You!  And they are encountering nothing but roadblocks and difficulties and setbacks."
     Here's where you may want to stop reading--because, truth be told, the one who was really inconvenienced and frustrated and disappointed with God was not those dear 16 souls going to Africa, but selfish, shallow me.  Sure, this has been one hard day for our mission group, but there I sat in the comfort of my car, my air-conditioning, my safety, my abundance, my family, and I had a complaining, ungrateful, untrusting heart.   O Lord, forgive me.  How I hate my sinful love of comfort and my selfish desire to have everything go according to my plans and my desires.
     Well, by the time I arrived at the airport for the third time, my daughter called again and told me to circle around since they might have worked it out yet again!  By this time, I'm a pro at airport circling--maybe this could be a future career opportunity.  So, after refueling my car (all that driving back and forth and circling, it turns out, is not ideal for a gas-guzzling Suburban), and, what else, circling, I learned that the group was dividing up and flying on all sorts of different flights at all different times, but, Lord willing, would all end up in Kenya by tomorrow sometime.  My daughter was flying with 4 other folks to Cleveland, then to Newark, then to Zurich, then to Kenya.  Geez.
     Well, sheepishly, I asked the Lord to forgive me for my temper tantrum with Him a few minutes earlier and thanked Him for His faithfulness and grace in getting the group on it's (convuluted) way.  I drove back home again, and when I stumbled in the door, Moses looked at me as if to say, "Boy, you really are confused today.  But maybe it's time for my third breakfast, don't you think?"
     So, right about now, my daughter is somewhere in the air over... somewhere.  I'm not exactly sure, though I think they have gotten as far as Newark, praise God!  I'm learning to let go of control, since I'm also learning that I really don't have control anyway--but He does.  And the bottom line is: do I trust Him?  Do I trust Him when the flight is cancelled and our plans are disrupted?  Do I trust Him when life seems to be taking an unplanned detour or an unscheduled "bend in the road?"
     Because if I truly trust Him, then I will rest in Him and His plans and His ways.  I will rejoice in Him even when my circumstances are not exactly as I had hoped or dreamed, because He is worthy and He always knows best.  I will follow Him, because He is my faithful, perfect, trustworthy Good Shepherd.  "My sheep hear My voice, and I know then, and they follow Me.  And I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; neither shall anyone snatch them out of My hand." (John 10:27-28)  O, Lord Jesus, help us to hear, help us to follow, and thank You for holding us securely in Your love-scarred hands, even when we totally don't deserve it.  Aren't you thankful it's all about Him and His grace and not about us and our "good deeds" (which truly are nothing more than filthy rags)?
     Lord, this sometimes wayward, selfish, silly sheep is following!  Forgive me for forgetting to listen for Your voice... and for failing to follow You thankfully and trustingly.  But I'm back Lord!  After a brief detour of ingratitude and selfish irritability, this sheep is seeking to follow her Good Shepherd and trust that He will lead her and her loved ones into His green pastures, still waters, and paths of righteousness for His name's sake.
     Jesus--You lead, we'll follow with joy and trust... and thank You for Your grace when we sometimes forget.  To God be the glory.

Choose wisely

     One more memory from the mountains--a bank of sunshine gracing the Inn across the way from our house.  How I love daisies--predominantly because they were my mom's favorite flowers, but also because, well,  much like sunflowers, daisies just make you smile with their happy, welcoming appearance.  Such a basic color scheme--white and yellow--yet somehow their simplicity only adds to their joyous greeting of each new day.  And these cheerful beauties make me recall a print my mama always loved that featured hand-drawn daisies with the words, "You are as welcome as the flowers in May."   Like I said, there is just something about the common, hospitable, jovial daisy!  Thank You Lord for daisies and for my Mama and the gift of having her on this earth for 80 years--she was a daisy of kindness and joy and exuberance if there ever was one!
     Perhaps we just needed to reminded of the beauty and peace and joy in this world.  This sin-scarred but Savior-redeemed planet seems darker and sadder today after the horrific shootings in Aurora, Colorado. I surely don't pretend to have all the answers, but I know the One who does, and trust that even in the face of such unspeakable evil, God is still in control and on the throne.
     I read the words at the end of this blog from a mother who survived the shootings in that Colorado theater yesterday.  May her account encourage us all in our times of testing or terror or trials of life--for we will all have them.  We may never face a deranged gunman, but we will all face evil, tragedy, crushing disappointment, debilitating or incurable illness, or deep sorrow in some form or another.   The question is not "if" but "when" and then "how"--how will we respond?  Will we grow bitter or better?  How will we grow deeper and stronger in our faith... or will we doubt and question and resent?
     It is our choice.  We cannot choose our circumstances but we can always choose our response.  I am reminded of an unforgettable book I read many years ago, Man's Search for Meaning, by Victor Frankl.  Frankl's mother, father, brother, and wife all died in the concentration camps.  Out of his entire family, only Frankl and his sister survived.  Yet Frankl wrote powerfully of his experiences: "We who lived in the concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread.  They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms--to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to chose one's own way."
     We choose our attitude.  We always have the choice "in any given set of circumstances to choose our way," our response.   Bitter or better.  Greedy or giving.  Worry or worship.  Fear or faith.  Resentful or rejoicing.  Doubt God's goodness or desire deeply to love and trust Him even in the darkness.  Follow our faithful Father or follow our fluctuating feelings.  Might we choose rightly, lovingly, trustingly.
     Father, help us: might we choose wisely.  To our sovereign, powerful, loving God be all the glory.


     Below are the words of Marie, a mother of six children, the youngest of whom is in high school:

SO YOU STILL THINK GOD IS A MERCIFUL GOD?!

(Maybe, just maybe God spared my life because He loves YOU and wants you to hear this..He wants you to believe that He loved you so much He gave His only begotten Son that if you would believe in Him you would have eternal life.)
“So, you still believe in a merciful God?”  Some of the comments online are genuinely inquisitive, others are contemptuous in nature. Regardless of the motive behind the question, I will respond the same way.
Yes.
Yes, I do indeed.
Absolutely, positively, unequivocally.
Let’s get something straight: the theater shooting was an evil, horrendous act done by a man controlled by evil.  God did not take a gun and pull the trigger in a crowded theater. He didn’t even suggest it. A man did.
In His sovereignty, God made man in His image with the ability to choose good and evil.
Unfortunately, sometimes man chooses evil.
I was there in theater 9 at midnight, straining to make out the words and trying to figure out the story line as The Dark Night Rises began. I’m not a big movie-goer. The HH and I prefer to watch movies in the comfort of our own home…where I can use subtitles and get a foot rub. I don’t like action movies. And I don’t like midnight showings.  But, as I wrote in my last post, parents sometimes make sacrifices for their kiddos and I decided I would take my fourteen year old and sixteen year old daughters who were chomping at the bit to see this eagerly anticipated third movie in the Batman Trilogy. Twice I had the opportunity to back out and twice I was quite tempted. But something in me said just go with your girls. I did.
So I was there with them, fidgeting in my seat, some forty or  fifty feet away from the man with the gun. It’s still a bit surreal, but I do know that when the seemingly endless shooting started, as my girls were struggling from whatever gas or chemical had been released, and we figured out what was happening, we hit the floor. I threw myself on top of my fourteen year old who was on the end of the row, straight up the aisle from the shooter.  In that moment, as the rapid-fire shots continued, I truly thought I was going to die. And I realized that I was ready. I have put my faith and trust in Jesus Christ as the redeemer of my soul, and there wasn’t the slightest doubt that I would be received into heaven, not because of any good thing that I have done but because of His merciful nature and the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Still, as I lay over my daughter, I began praying out loud. I don’t even remember what I prayed, but I don’t imagine it really matters. I’m sure it was for protection and peace. It drew me closer into the presence of God. When there was a pause in the shooting, people began to clamor for the exits. The girls and I jumped up and joined the masses. We had to step over a lifeless body, not knowing where the shooter was. We raced to our car and I dumped my purse, frantically searching for keys, looking all around, prepared to hit the ground. I yelled at Michelle to call Matthew and find out if he had made it out of the theater next door. She did. He did. We booked on out of there.
Why would you think such a tragedy would make me question the goodness of God? If anything, both of my girls said it made Him a much more real presence to them; the youngest shared this verse: Do not be afraid of sudden fear nor of the onslaught of the wicked when it comes; for the LORD will be your confidence and will keep your feet from being caught.
He is not the cause of evil, but He is the one who can bring comfort and peace in the midst of evil.  It’s been amazing to see the outpouring of love from so many people after this unthinkable act.  Yes, there was one evil act, but it is being covered by thousands, possibly millions of acts of kindness.
We have not yet slept, so the girls and I are overtired and a bit emotional.  But overall, we are praising God and resting in His Goodness.   I love this word of wisdom and encouragement from a former pastor of mine:
Up to this point I haven’t had words to say that would matter. Of course we are all glad that you and the family are safe. Of course we would all state the obvious that this is horrific and senseless. But those words still don’t carry weight that remain in the midst of the questions. Then it hit me… Do you know what the difference was between Job and his wife in their response to the tragedy of losing everything… Job 1:20 Job was the only one that worshiped in the midst of it. Marie, I know your heart and I’ve seen your worship lived out before your family. Before the weight of this becomes unbearable… worship. Your profile pic was not coincidence, not by accident that you changed it on July 15th, but a beautiful foreshadowing of your need to hear the cry of your heart and give Him praise.  
Though we don’t have all the answers, we do indeed listen to the cry of our hearts: When I am afraid, I will put my trust in You. In God, whose word I praise, In God I have put my trust; I shall not be afraid. What  can mere man  do to me? Psalm 56:3-4
God is always good.
Man is not.
Don’t get the two confused.
We will continue to praise and worship our mighty God, anticipating that He will bring beauty from ashes, as only He can do.
If you want to know how to pray for us: first and foremost, we need sleep. Somehow our bodies seem too wired. We also want the life that God has graciously allowed us to continue to live to not be a gift given in vain, we want our lives to draw others closer to Him. We do not want fear to dominate, for God has not given us a spirit of fear. We want His joy to be seen and experienced in all that we do.
Pray for the families who lost loved ones, and for young people who witnessed such horror. Pray for this to be an opportunity for God to manifest Himself in mighty ways.
As for you…we will pray that YOU might know His goodness.
Still grateful for this wonderful life,
Marie

Mountain Mentality

     Dawn on our last morning in the mountains.  If serenity could be visually depicted, this would be it! Thank You Lord.  There is nothing more beautiful than early morning sunrises (followed closely by evening sunsets).  We are headed back down the mountain in just a little while, and, whew, much must be accomplished before we all cram back into the car.  Sheets, towels, beds, laundry, cleaning, searching for missing items, straightening, and on and on.
      But, Lord, help us to maintain a mountain mentality even as we descend back into the valley and "real life."  Perhaps this is all just a tiny taste of what You envision as our real life--time to savor, to share, to sit back and appreciate, to rejoice, to thank.  Maybe our "real life" of frenzy and worry and haste and striving is really just a shadow of what the abundant life could and should be.  Real life should be joy and peace and love and hope and thanksgiving and contentment all the while actively working and doing everything He's called us to do.  After all, He gave the very first man and woman work in the garden from the very beginning and that work was good and satisfying--well, that is until the fall.  The work isn't the problem--it's the worry and hurry, the frenzy and fretting that gets us.
     One day in heaven, don't you think we'll finally realize what "real life"--abundant life--truly is--and what God meant for it to be all along, even on this sin-scarred but Savior-redeemed planet?  I wonder if it will be like coming home and saying, "Ahh, this was it all along!  How could we have missed it?  Look how much He had for us, but we were too busy or worried or preoccupied to see it.  Such wonder, such glory, such joy, such peace, such beauty--fully realized and appropriated for all of eternity in heaven, but little foretastes, little foreshadowings of it on earth."
     Surely each of us can maintain a mountain mentality (or beach mentality or whatever it is that enables you to slow and see and savor and feel fully satisfied in Him and in His plans for you).  He has given us His Holy Spirit to guide us into all Truth and to encourage us, to teach us, to help us.  And He is always, at every single moment of every single day, only a breath away: just one whispered prayer, one silent prayer to the God of the universe.  Imagine that--our every prayer connecting us to all that power, all that peace, all that enabling and strengthening to meet our every need.
     So Father, as we go back into the valleys of our lives, help us to constantly practice Your presence and call on Your supernatural power.   Give us, we humbly ask, Your joy, Your peace, Your love, Your strength,  Your grace, Your compassion, Your forgiveness as we live this day and every day.   Give us a mountain mentality that sees and trusts You in the midst of our valleys, our challenges, our crises, our circumstances--good, bad, or indifferent.  And remind us to give "Thanks."
    To the Lord of the sunrise and the sunset, the mountain and the valley, to our great and glorious and good God, be all the glory.

Following the Good Shepherd

     Nothing like a boy and his dog... and his book.  Now mind you, much weeping and gnashing of teeth went into the boy picking up this book.  There is a mama behind the camera who practically had to threaten with "no golf for a week" (or something equally shocking and horrific) before he would sit down to read.  Gee, two things I've never understood about children--why fight naps and books?  Two of the finest things the Lord ever created in this life--other than chocolate, of course--and you'd think they were being asked to get a root canal... and shots... and clean up their rooms all at the same time.
     But once my son and Moses settled down on the porch with a hefty rain pouring down, well, you can see everyone was pretty contented and peaceful.  Nothing like hearing the peaceful sound of falling rain,  feeling the cool breeze across your face, and reading a good book--with no agenda, no meetings, no to-do lists clogging up your mind.
     Have I said I love the mountains?!  Gracious, what a joy to get away and slow down and just feel God's peaceful, powerful presence up here amidst all His creation.  I know we can, and should, be able to experience this anywhere, but there truly is just something about pulling away from the rush, slowing down, and spending time just seeing, listening, reading, and rejoicing.
     I've just reread the familiar (and, in my case, too familiar) words of Psalm 23.  Jesus is our Good Shepherd--yeah, yeah, you might say.  But have you really thought about what that means?  That He is our Good Shepherd?  Well, Psalm 23 reminds us of just a few of the remarkable benefits of being one of His sheep.  I guess the words of Psalm 23 particularly resonated with me since these past few days in the mountains have been His gift--and His reminder--of all that He has for each of us when we follow our Good Shepherd.
     I encourage all of us to reread these oft quoted words in Psalm 23 and put our name in it in each of it's verses.   He promises that if He is your Good Shepherd, you "shall not want." (v.1)  How often we think we need more, deserve more, crave more--and it's a sure path to misery, envy, frustration, and discouragement.  Seek Him, savor Him, and He promises we will not "want."
     But here's one I love: "He makes me lie down in green pastures." (v.2)  "Makes me?"  You'd think it wouldn't be so tough and unpleasant to lie down in a green pasture--especially if you are a sheep seeking nothing better than a nice green pasture in which to eat all day long and rest and relax (sounds pretty terrific to me--especially the eating part).  But sometimes He has to make His frantic, frazzled sheep slow down and lie down in His place of beauty and rejuvenation.  Thank You, Jesus, for making us do what we need so desperately but seem to avoid to our great detriment.  How often we miss His choicest blessings and pleasures, because we think we have a better plan--usually involving stress and striving and self-effort.  Sigh.
     "He leads me beside still waters.  He restores my soul."  Just contemplate that for a moment or two.  First of all, He leads us.  We aren't in this on our own, praise God.  He leads, we follow.  O how I need the daily reminder that HE LEADS, and my job is simply to follow!  Stop running ahead; stop looking back; stop looking all around at whatever everyone else is doing and where they are going.  Jesus is leading--I just need to follow Him... because wherever He is going, well, that's the place of blessing and security and adventure.
     But secondly, He leads me beside "still waters" and "restores my soul."  Anybody around here need a little restoring?  A little rejuvenation of resting beside beautiful, peaceful waters?  Still waters provide the sheep with water and with no danger of getting swept away by a fast running current.  Who doesn't need that?  Filled with the Living Water that brings us all that we need, all that we crave in our restless hearts and all the while meeting our needs, providing eternal security and peace.  Sign me up, Lord!
     And "He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake." (v.3)  Again, He leads, we follow... and when we follow Him, we can know know know that it will be in paths of righteousness and not paths of wickedness or deception or despair or evil.  Why would we not want to follow Him into green pastures, still waters, paths of righteousness and abundant life?  Do we seriously believe we have a better plan, a better path?
     That's just the first 3 verses of Psalm 3, but the Good Shepherd blesses us in so many infinite ways, we can spend our lives exploring this life with Him leading the way, and we'll never come to the end of His goodness and grace and glory and greatness.  So today, slow down.  Pause to pick up a book, pat your dog, and savor the joy of following the Good Shepherd.  Let Him lead you beside some still waters and restore your soul.  If He's leading, you're good to go wherever He's headed!  Help us Lord to follow.  To our Good Shepherd be all the glory.

God's New Morning

Morning has broken, like the first morning

Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird

Praise for the singing, praise for the morning

Praise for them springing fresh from the Word.

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven

Like the first dewfall, on the first grass

Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden

Sprung in completeness where His feet pass.

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning

Born of the one light, Eden saw play

Praise with elation, praise every morning

God's recreation of the new day.

     Morning in the mountains--overlooking Pilot Mountain, low lying clouds nestled amongst the valley look like dew. How I wish this photograph could capture the serene beauty of this fine morning.  The sky has now lightened a bit and has a wash of pink all over, dotted with clouds that look like they are somehow infused with bright light.  

     And the sounds!  The loud hum of the hummingbird as he flies up to sip the nectar, the crows calling brashly, the chorus of birds, along with an occasional whippoorwill. But no traffic, no TV, no radio--no noise.  Just the symphony of birds serenading Moses and me as we sit on the porch with some hot tea and drink in the beauty.  Moses, as usual, seems throughly contented.  Sigh... O to learn the peaceful contentment of a dog when he happily rests beside you.  But right at this moment, as we sit in silence and wonder at God's "recreation of a new day," well, I think I've got it.  

     How I have always loved the hymn, "Morning has Broken!"  (By the way, a Scottish poet in 1931 composed this lovely song of praise as a hymn to give thanks for a new day--not Cat Stevens.)  A new day.  A fresh start.  A new opportunity to "praise with elation, praise every morning God's recreation of the new day."  He truly does make all things new, and each fresh bright morning is His continual reminder to us of this great and wonderful truth.  

     Resurrection... new life... yesterday is past, over, forgotten--so start today, start now.  He is waiting and ready to enable us to begin anew with Him, our God of glorious new mornings, new starts, new life.  Forgiveness and grace beckon us to put the past to bed with yesterday's failures and falterings, and begin today--this new day given by the God of all goodness and grace and glory.  He is waiting for us to walk with Him through whatever challenges and choices and adventures this new day brings.  Choose Him today.  Trust Him today.  Walk with Him today.  Praise Him today.  For He is always worthy, always faithful, always good, always glorious... just look at God's faithful recreation of the new day this morning and rejoice anew.  To God be the glory.   

Freedom... and abiding

     The other day I read these well-known words: "and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." (John 8:32)  What a promise from the Lord Jesus!  How great to really know the truth--not all the hype, not all the spin, not all the opinions, not all the misinformation, not all the internet half-truths or blatant falsehoods--but the real, actual, you-can-totally-take-it-to-the-bank truth.  Amidst all the confusion and fast-paced, constantly changing information and cutting edge technology, Jesus tells us we can actually know the truth.
     Moreover, that truth will set us free.  Not "may" set us free or "can help" set us free or "sometimes" will set us free or "if you try hard enough and want it badly enough" can set us free.  Nope, the Truth, His Truth, will set us free.  Who doesn't need freedom?  Freedom from bondage to addictions.  Freedom from enslavement to destructive thought patterns.  Freedom from the oppression of seeking others' approval.  Freedom from servitude to anything that demeans and destroys us--whether worry or despair or chronic discontentment.  "Freedom"--makes me think of that last shouted line from the movie Braveheart--as William Wallace is being drawn and quartered and in his dying words shouts: "Freeeeedooomm!"
     But here's the thing: as I was reading John chapter 8, it suddenly hit me that this oft-quoted verse is connected to the verse immediately preceding it (hence the word "and!"  I know I'm a bit slow, but, well, there you have it).  Do you know what Jesus says in verse 31?  "If you wish to abide in my word, you are truly disciples," and then, of course, "and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."
     In other words, the condition for knowing the truth and being set free by the truth, is abiding in Jesus' word.  Duh, you are probably saying.  But seriously, this really struck me.  No wonder I sometimes get my priorities so misplaced.   No wonder I sometimes do the very thing I hate.  No wonder I sometimes fail to do what I know I should, and long, to do.  No wonder I suddenly find myself worrying or despairing or fretting or envying.
     Because I'm not abiding in His Word.  
     You can almost always trace the days when I descend into the "slough of despond" or melt into a pool of self-pity or find myself feeling completely overwhelmed and inadequate--on that day I failed to spend time abiding in His Word.  I rushed off into my full day and felt I--Miss Important, Miss Too-busy-to-bother-abiding-with-the-God-of-the-universe--didn't have time or energy or need to abide in Him and soak in His strength and guidance and love and encouragement.  Seriously, I can look back at nearly every instance when I lost it emotionally and lost my perspective or my joy or my love, and I had ceased abiding.
     And it's not just reading His Word.  It's daily, hourly, practicing His presence.  Reminding yourself in the midst of the trenches of life that He is with you, He is for you, He is helping you.  He has died for you, redeemed you, and filled you with His Holy Spirit that guides you, teaches you, and leads you into all TRUTH and gives you all you need for life and godliness.  (2 Pet.1:3)
     We have to choose to abide.  That's our job.  We abide... and He does all the rest.  He equips, He leads, He helps, He redeems, He strengthens, He encourages, He does all that we cannot.  And He will enable us to know the truth and His truth will set us free.
     So today, Lord, we desire freeedoooommm!  Help us to abide in You.. in Your Word, in Your loving, joyous, powerful, perfect, glorious presence.   As we abide, we trust You to set us free from our bondage to whatever is enslaving us or our loved ones.  Help us to abide, Father.  To God be the glory.

Mountain Gifts

     Thank You, Lord.  Right at this moment, I gaze out over the valley as I sit on our porch in the mountains.  This is our first time up here since last summer--and our first family vacation this summer as well (golf tournaments TOTALLY do NOT count as vacation).  The peaceful songs of birds and crickets and the breezes blowing through the trees sound more magnificent than the New York Philharmonic Orchestra.  The serene beauty at every turn calms my frenzied, hurried heart, and all I can say is "Thank You, Lord."  To think, such peaceful, outstanding beauty exists every moment of every day--only I'm often too busy to glimpse it all around me.  But, boy, you just can't help but see it and feel it deep in your bones up here.  A humming bird just darted up to the feeder, and swallows dip and soar in the wide sky.  What a creation... what a Creator.
     The butterflies swarm our butterfly bushes right off the porch.  I had to take a picture of those as well:

Have remarkable butterflies are!  So delicate, so light and airy--they perform daily ballets, fluttering and lighting and lifting off again in their colorful costumes of yellow and bright blue and midnight black.  And all the while, Moses, our sweet old black lab, rests at my feet, contented just to smell the clean air and be wherever we are.
     God didn't have to make butterflies... or hummingbirds... or black labs, you know.  He could have just created a much more utilitarian world of black and white and gray, of necessities--no bells and whistles. But not our God, for He loves color.  He loves beauty.  He loves creating... and soaring and fluttering and resting and lumbering and crawling and running and dancing.  And most of all, His adores His own precious children, for He loves to bring us joy and laughter and wonder.  And awe.  How dare we fail to pause and gaze upon His creation and be filled with wonder and with awe!   He is our Almighty Creator God and there is none other.
     Time for me to get busy with dinner, but I had to cease striving for just a few moments and wonder at our Lord and His gifts upon gifts upon gifts in these blue hills.  His gifts are everywhere--in the mountains, at the beach, in the city, in the country.   The question is: will we pause to see and to name those gifts ("Count your blessings--name them one by one!")?   And then would we choose to put aside our agenda, our little resentments, our petty worries and disappointments and instead rejoice in the glorious Giver of all gifts?
      Thank You Lord.  Thank You for mountains and hummingbirds and butterflies and swallows and dogs and deer and families with which to share them.  You truly are amazing and wonderful and worthy of all our praise.  To God be the glory.

The Sunflower

     "Mom!  You need to come outside with me quick!" our 11 year old son shouted excitedly as he burst through the kitchen door.
     "I have got the best surprise for you!  You won't believe it!  Come on!"
     Well, what mother can resist that?   I practically threw down all the mail, dirty dishes, and accumulated detritus collecting on the kitchen counter that I had been unhappily wading through and rushed outside with my son.  Peter proudly led me to this beauty--this bright yellow burst of sunshine growing right beside the path to our kitchen door.  Who wouldn't love a sunflower?  Did you know that sunflowers are one of honeybees' favorite flowers?  In fact, I've read that if you want to help to shore up the radically declining bee population, then plant sunflowers.  Every single time we walk by that sunflower, we check and, sure enough, there is always at least a bee, and often two, busily sipping away at the golden nectar.
      Sunflowers have always been one of my very favorite flowers: big, bold, showy splashes of joy that  always make me smile.  We've never actually grown one, however.    But one day Peter found an old packet of seeds sitting around the garage (no telling how old and outdated they were) and sprinkled them on the hard, dry ground outside our kitchen door... and then we promptly forgot all about it.
      Of course, nothing would grow.  Nothing should grow.  We are not green thumb people--though my youngest son and I are certainly trying--hence the tangled mass of tomato vines and the little purple flowers (we don't remember their name but our son picked them out and, praise God,  they are growing and are lovely!)   Nope, no hope for that old packet of seeds.  There had been no watering, no mulching, no fertilizing, no care of any kind.   Just a wing and a prayer.  And time.
     And sometimes that's enough.
     Sometimes God honors our weakest efforts and our feeblest prayers with joyous surprises.      
     Sometimes we hope and dream and pray and pray and pray some more... and nothing.  The skies seem brass, our efforts and prayers seem futile and empty, and the way ahead seems discouraging at best.  Don't we all grow weary and disheartened at times?  Tired of sowing and not reaping.  Tired of praying and not receiving.  Tired of trying and not enjoying the rewards.  Tired of hoping and not finding fulfillment of our dreams.
     But God reminded me, in this hardy sunflower, that He sees and hears it all.  And He takes our small, our weak, our exhausted little seeds of faith and hope and effort, and He eventually sends us a beautiful harvest of blessing.  A bursting sunflower of joy.... of revival... of restoration... of renewal... of new life and new hope.
     We never saw the sunflower growing.  Seriously, we never saw a shoot or a flower bud or any evidence whatsoever that anything exciting was in the works!  But, as God did with this unexpected gift growing seemingly overnight, He can change everything in a moment.   He can part the Red Sea when the enemy is baring down.  He can still the sun for 24 hours to allow the victory. He can use a pit and a prison to lead Joseph to a palace to save nations from starvation.  He can send the whale in the nick of time to prevent Jonah's drowning... and then summon the whale to land to give a rebellious prophet a second chance.  He can calm the sea in the midst of a storm.  He can open the eyes of those born blind.  He can raise the only beloved child from the dead. He can multiply the tiny bits and pieces and make a feast for the hungry thousands.  He can die on a cross in my place, in your place, and take away your sin and shame.  And He can rise from the dead and give us eternal, abundant, joy-filled life.
     "Christ sometimes delays His help that He may try our faith and quicken our prayers.  The boat may be covered with the waves, and He sleeps on; but He will wake up before it sinks.  He sleeps, but He never oversleeps; and there are no 'too lates' with Him."  Alexander Maclaren
     Keep praying.  Keep trying.  Keep trusting.  Know that the sunflower seed is in the ground, silently but surely, growing and, when you least expect or even hope for it,  preparing to burst forth into the sunshine, drawing honeybees and grateful glances it's way.
     Thank You Lord for this reminder that You are faithful... forever faithful.  And You are able to do abundantly, immeasurably more than all we could ask or imagine or dream by Your infinite power and Your sovereign love. (Eph.3:20-21)  Thank You for the little things in our lives that bring us so much joy and help us to remember that You are always good and always giving us gifts.  Father, give us one thing more, we pray: give us eyes that see and hearts that thank.  Thank You for my son's sunflower.  To God be the glory.