A little food for Monday-but-let's-pretend-it's-still-weekend-thought--
Sigh. Sort of reflects my state of busyness--that is now veering towards frayed tiredness--right at the moment. Can we just all agree that it's still, say, Saturday morning? Boy, that would be helpful with all I've got to do. But since I'm not thinking the Lord will turn back time today, let's just try to maintain that weekend state of mind for few more minutes and find a moment to breathe deep and savor the invigorating freshness of the fall air...even if we aren't feeling very fresh!
C.S. Lewis (of course!) writing of the two meanings for the word "life"--
"We use the same word life for both: but if you thought that both must therefore be the same sort of thing, that would be thinking that the 'greatness' of space and the 'greatness' of God were the same sort of greatness. In reality, the difference between the Biological life and Spiritual life is so important that I am going to give them two distinct names. The Biological sort which comes to us through Nature, and which (like everything else in Nature) is always tending to run down and decay so that it can only be kept up by incessant subsidies from Nature in the form of air, water, food, etc., is Bios. The Spiritual life which is in God from all eternity, and which made the whole natural universe, is Zoe. Bios has, to be sure, a certain shadowy or symbolic resemblance to Zoe: but only the sort of resemblance there is between a photo and a place, or a statue and a man. A man who changed from having Bios to having Zoe would have gone through as big a change as a statue which changed from being a carved stone to being a real man.
And that is precisely what Christianity is about. This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumor going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life."
Alleluia! And today, Lord, that's what I need--I need for this heart of stone to be transformed into a heart of flesh pulsing with your life. I need Your Word and Your Spirit to breathe life back into these weary, dry bones. "This is what the Sovereign Lord says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life." (Ezek.37:5)
Thank You, Father, that it's not us striving to turn ourselves from statues into living beings. It's not our breathe that gives life to dry, desiccated bones. It's not about working harder and pushing farther in an endless effort to measure up.
It's You. Start to finish--all You. And You've promised that by Your grace and power, we can do all that You've called us to do this day. Give us resurrection hope and renewal this day. In You we place our hope and our trust.
To God--who makes dry bone live and weary hearts refreshed--be all the glory.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Bird house faith
The frog's been perched up there for years--a silly mental note to Fully Rely On God. Get it? I'm a slow learner and a quick forgetter so it helps to have reminders strewn about the house!
The lovely chapel bird house, however, is a beautiful new addition, given to me by my sweet friend, Betsy, who saw it up in the mountains. I wish I knew the story behind the artist, but I guess he'd rather me know The Story about The Artist...and so it's to God's glory alone that he creates his little masterpieces to encourage us all to remember the True and Glorious Artist. I must say, the frog's expression seems to betray a bit of exasperation...as if to say, "Geez, I have to sit next to this? Is this some kind of joke about beauty and the beast?
Painted on the back of this tiny treasure is the reference to the verse--Matthew 6:26. "Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?" Boy, don't we all need that reminder daily!
Yes, Lord, we are of more value than even the magnificent birds, for You made us in Your image. And You tell us over and over again in Your Word of Your love and grace. Every verse proclaims Your power, Your provision, Your peace, Your presence...but we tend to forget.
We're mighty good forgetters.
We tend to wring our hands over the past that we cannot change, and worry over the future that we cannot control. In the process of that fruitless, faithless regret and worry, we can completely forfeit the joy of the present day--the only day You've given us. The only day we can live fully for You and by You. The only day we can love our family and friends. The only day that gives us the opportunity to make changes that could help and alter our future. But we can't make changes today if we're preoccupied and focused upon yesterday's failures or tomorrow's worries.
I'm betting the birds aren't out there today bemoaning the bugs that got away from them yesterday. Nor are they fretting about whether our bird feeder will have enough seed tomorrow.
Nope. They're just busily working and eating and flying--today. Today. We've just got today.
The Lord's given the birds--and us--today to soar--or to savor. Today to work hard...but trust for tomorrow. Today to love and encourage others. Today to be kind. Today to be grateful. Today to rejoice in His gifts. Today to worship the Gift-Giver. Today to live to His glory.
And today to know that the Lord Jesus will help us shoulder today's burdens. Today's burdens--not tomorrow's...not yet. But even as we hand Him today's hardships and difficulties, we'll trust that our forever faithful Burden-Bearer will give us the grace and the strength to handle those of tomorrow as well. And somehow, in His sovereignty to work out all things for our good and His glory.
Augustine said it best: "Trust the past to the mercy of God, the present to His love, and the future to His providence."
Our Father's got it all...so we can rest in Him. To God be the glory.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
A parking ticket reminder
Yep, that's pretty much what it is. But let me explain--
My morning had gone from bad to worse...or at least from disorganized (my usual) to chaotic to totally falling apart. Nothing major, I'm happy (and also embarrassed) to say--just the usual minutia and busyness of life that suddenly seemed to overwhelm me. It was just one of those days where I had waaaaaay too much to do, not enough time to do it, and constant interruptions and minor emergencies that threatened to send me off the deep end. Even as I write this, I'm thinking, "Get a grip, girl! Are you kidding?" But at the time, I pretty much lost all perspective and felt, well, discouraged and defeated.
I rushed in the house after running to do a chore for my husband that he really needed done right then, and it was fairly apparent I was at the end of my rope. He didn't say anything at first--just handed me that ticket. Words were unnecessary.
The previous afternoon, we had my car cleaned for the first time since the earth's surface cooled, and the car cleaner guys (who were fabulous, incidentally!) put a couple of things on my car seat that they had unearthed from the deep recesses of my dirty car. One of them was this little ticket. I had paid no attention to it the day before but just threw it on the counter with the other stuff when I came in the house.
But Richard had looked at it a little more closely and immediately recognized it: one of the parking lot ticket stubs from the hospital at ECU when Janie was in ICU a year ago. We looked at the date on the ticket. Sure enough, it was one of the really long, tough days when Janie was not only still unconscious and unresponsive, but also the day when her lungs suddenly became a huge problem. In fact, that was a day we had felt particularly frightened because the doctors had to perform an emergency bronchoscopy to clear out one of her lungs so she could breathe.
And here's all my husband had to say to me: "If you could go back to that day, what would you think about your 'problems' today? Don't you think you would have been thrilled to trade these worries today with what you were facing then?"
And he quietly taped the ticket on top of my computer as a reminder of God's goodness and grace. God's utterly underserved graciousness and kindness that I, inexplicably, seemed to have completely forgotten with my present concerns. His remarkable power displayed that I seemed to have completely discounted with my pressing chores. His love and care and provision...that I, in my ingratitude and self-absorption, seemed to have completely disregarded.
O forgive me, Father. Forgive me for so frequently adopting the selfish attitude of "what have You done for me lately." Forgive me for forgetting. Forgive me for failing to live a life devoted to praising and thanking You constantly--in good times and bad. In moments of joy and of disappointment. In times of fulfillment and frustration.
Thank You, Lord, for reminding me--You are good all the time...even when we can't see it. Whenever the clouds shroud the sun, the sun is still there. Our view is just momentarily blocked. So too, help us to trust in You and Your love and Your goodness and Your grace even when our circumstances momentarily block our understanding. Our circumstances change. You do not.
And so, might we all remember--our God is forever faithful. If you need a little help recalling, take a few minutes and list His gifts to you this past week. List them all--from the lovely fall weather to the solace of friendship to the strength He gives to endure some hard, dark place.
And then list the greatness of the Gift-Giver. His love. Grace. Power. Joy. Forgiveness. Kindness. Strength. Holiness. Glory... and on and on...
"Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer" (Rom.12:12)--our memory verse for this week's Bible study. Yep, that pretty much covers it, Lord! Keep us rejoicing, give us patient endurance in our trials and help us to pray without ceasing.
For You are faithful and good...all the time. Thanks for using a parking ticket to remind me.
To God be the glory.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
One choice...
A little food for weekend thought:
From C.S. Lewis on the subject of our choices--
From C.S. Lewis on the subject of our choices--
"Every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different than it was before. And taking your life as a whole, with all your innumerable choices, all your life long you are slowly turning this central thing into a heavenly creature or a hellish creature: either into a creature that is in harmony with God, and with other creatures, and with itself, or else into one that is in a state of war and hatred with God, and with its fellow creatures, and with itself. To be the one kind of creature is heaven: that is, it is joy and peace and knowledge and power. To be the other means madness, horror, idiocy, rage, impotence, and eternal loneliness. Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state of the other.”
We are studying Ruth 1 in Bible study right now, and the subject of our decisions has really been upon my mind: how our choices affect others; how our seemingly inconsequential choices can shape our destiny; and how we are all only one choice away from a new beginning.
It's so true--each good decision we make--no matter how small--somehow makes the next good decision just a tiny bit easier. But on the other hand, every sinful or selfish choice we make often proves to be a slippery slope that slides us deeper and deeper into a pit of sin or discouragement or defeat.
So often, the only answer is to start where we are. Start small. But start. Stop delaying. Stop making excuses for our crummy attitude or our poor self-discipline or our lack of love and kindness or our prideful jealousy or ingratitude.
Sometimes, we just need to decide to start with that one small choice to die to ourself and refuse to share that gossip or indulge in that pity-party. Maybe today we begin with the decision to do what God has called us to do on this day--despite our feelings. Just for today--don't worry about tomorrow, but do it today. Or if we're really stuck in a pit of despair, perhaps we simply make the choice, as Elizabeth Elliot used to say, to "Do the next thing." Even if that just means getting up and making the bed.
If we will take one tiny step of obedience, we will find that our relentlessly pursuing God--like the Father in Jesus' story of the prodigal son--is already running towards us to help us take the next step.
But it all begins with one step. One choice. One decision to obey--even if it's a tiny one. After all, we serve a Lord who loves to take our teensy, insignificant bits and pieces and multiplies them beyond anything we can imagine.
O Father, help us this day to choose wisely. Help us to choose You today. Even if we start small, help us to start. To God be the glory.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
On the lookout for cardinals
Don't we all need those reminders of God's constant, unconditional, no-matter-what love for us? Life can be so hard. Right now I am praying for a number of dear friends who are struggling with such weighty sorrows, losses, and longstanding troubles. As I prayed early in the morning, I wept with the sadness and perplexity of it all. But I also released those burdens to our Great Burden-Bearer.
Frances Ridley Havergal writes "In perplexities--when we cannot tell what to do, when we cannot understand what is going on around us--let us be calmed and steadied and made patient by the thought that what is hidden from us is not hidden from Him." He sees. He knows. He cares. And He is at work even in those hardest, darkest corners of our lives--especially in those places.
But in those moments when we are tempted to despair in our circumstances or in the weight of the sorrow and hardship those that we love are bearing, we need, we must, have those "Cardinal Love Note" reminders that our God is there. That He is faithful. That He is in control. And that He is always working to bring all things together for our good and His glory. (Rom.8:28). That's why I love to spot cardinals throughout my day--I need to be constantly reminded of His powerful, relentless influx of His love and Presence in my life.
Because here's the thing I've learned--the daily grind of life will suck that sense of His love and power and presence right away from us. Snatch it from us and cause us to doubt, to grow discouraged, to even despair. Man, I am so quick to measure God by my circumstances rather than measure my circumstances by my Almighty God!
There is one sure fire antidote for this destructive, hope-stealing dilemma. We must confront and battle against the lies of our feelings of despair or fear with the eternal, powerful Truth of God's Word.
Christine Cane put it this way: "When there is a fight between your heart and your head, experience has taught me that the best thing to do is pick up your Bible and remind yourself of what God says..You need to return to the truth of God's Word that will last forever, not meditate on circumstances that will change and fade."
We have that choice daily. Listen to the lies of "This is hopeless." "They'll never change.""This is just how I am and I can't help it." "I will always feel this way." "This disease will destroy me and my life." "This relationship is beyond all hope" On and on go the lies of destruction and despair.
But the Word says... But the Word says...But the eternal Truth of God's Word says...But the cross reveals... But the resurrection shows...
Fight defeat and discouragement with the Word. Remind yourself a thousand times a day--God's Word says He loves me with an everlasting love and underneath are His everlasting arms. (Dt.33:27) He promises us--"Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." (Isa.41:10) And "'Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet My unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor My covenant of peace be removed,' says the Lord, who has compassion on you." (Isa.54:10)
O Father, help us make that choice daily--to choose to listen to Your great, powerful voice of Truth and love rather than stew in the destructive juices of our feelings of discouragement or fear. Keep reminding us this day of Your love. Might we meditate on Your love and power rather than our limitations and sorrows. Might we be preoccupied with You rather than our problems.
This day we will have multiple opportunities to choose which voice we will heed. Lord, remind us again and again that You are with us, that You love us, and that You are working all things--ALL things--for our greater good and Your greater glory.
Keep sending those cardinals--and keep us on the lookout for them! We love You, too, Lord!
To God be the glory.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Remembering...thanking...loving
Just remembering--
We looked up the other day while we were in Chapel Hill and saw this overhead--the hospital's medical helicopter. I suddenly choked back tears as I thanked God for another helicopter exactly one year ago that flew Janie to the hospital at ECU and saved her life. And another one that took Tessa to UNC to help her with multiple badly broken bones. Thank You Lord.
But here's the thing that struck me: we never knew the names of the pilots or the medical personnel onboard that helicopters. O how I wish I could thank them and tell them all that they accomplished--allowed two girls to go home to their families, to go to high school, to go to school dances and basketball games and Young Life and graduation. And now to go to college.
Do they know? Do they have any idea how many people they have blessed through their faithful actions that Friday night a year ago? Probably not. Surely not. But God knows. We know. And while we can't thank them personally, we thank our Father and ask Him--Lord, whisper encouragement deep into their hearts. Give them strength and steadiness and wisdom and safety and courage as they do their job. Might they see not with their eyes but with their hearts that every patient is a beloved daughter or son or sister or brother or mother or father. And might they know that every life they save is a life restored to those families...for another day to love, to laugh, to sing, to hug, to share.
Yet, isn't that the case with everyone of us? How can we begin to know the ways God will use us in someone else's life? Who even this very moment might need for us to be their lifesaver? No, maybe not on a medical helicopter or in an emergency room, but perhaps to give that desperately needed word of encouragement. Or to be the arms and feet and hands of Christ and give that hug of love or that tear of empathy or that tender touch of healing or that quiet offer of grace and forgiveness.
We might never know. We will probably never know. But God knows and that is His call. To love others relentlessly. Love till it hurts...and then beyond. Love to exhaustion...and then beyond. Love like He loved...without expecting a thank you or a pat on the back.
Like those medical personnel, we may never know the difference we make. We may never hear an audible thank you. But God speaks in ways deeper than words. No love is ever lost or wasted or missed. It is received and absorbed and God will use it and grow it in places and in people we may not ever know this side of heaven. And somehow, in the end, I have to think He will take all that hurt and exhaustion and suffering and pain and bind it all up with His love and and enlarge it into something new and beautiful and huge. Just as "death is swallowed up in victory," so His love swallows and transforms all that pain and suffering.
So Father, help us take our eyes off ourselves and our petty problems and put them on You and on those around us who need Your love and Your touch. Show us someone to encourage. Someone to help. Someone to forgive. Someone to love like You love.
And then help us do it again...and again...and again without counting the cost. Because You didn't. O Lord Jesus, thank You. To God be the glory.
But here's the thing that struck me: we never knew the names of the pilots or the medical personnel onboard that helicopters. O how I wish I could thank them and tell them all that they accomplished--allowed two girls to go home to their families, to go to high school, to go to school dances and basketball games and Young Life and graduation. And now to go to college.
Do they know? Do they have any idea how many people they have blessed through their faithful actions that Friday night a year ago? Probably not. Surely not. But God knows. We know. And while we can't thank them personally, we thank our Father and ask Him--Lord, whisper encouragement deep into their hearts. Give them strength and steadiness and wisdom and safety and courage as they do their job. Might they see not with their eyes but with their hearts that every patient is a beloved daughter or son or sister or brother or mother or father. And might they know that every life they save is a life restored to those families...for another day to love, to laugh, to sing, to hug, to share.
Yet, isn't that the case with everyone of us? How can we begin to know the ways God will use us in someone else's life? Who even this very moment might need for us to be their lifesaver? No, maybe not on a medical helicopter or in an emergency room, but perhaps to give that desperately needed word of encouragement. Or to be the arms and feet and hands of Christ and give that hug of love or that tear of empathy or that tender touch of healing or that quiet offer of grace and forgiveness.
We might never know. We will probably never know. But God knows and that is His call. To love others relentlessly. Love till it hurts...and then beyond. Love to exhaustion...and then beyond. Love like He loved...without expecting a thank you or a pat on the back.
Like those medical personnel, we may never know the difference we make. We may never hear an audible thank you. But God speaks in ways deeper than words. No love is ever lost or wasted or missed. It is received and absorbed and God will use it and grow it in places and in people we may not ever know this side of heaven. And somehow, in the end, I have to think He will take all that hurt and exhaustion and suffering and pain and bind it all up with His love and and enlarge it into something new and beautiful and huge. Just as "death is swallowed up in victory," so His love swallows and transforms all that pain and suffering.
So Father, help us take our eyes off ourselves and our petty problems and put them on You and on those around us who need Your love and Your touch. Show us someone to encourage. Someone to help. Someone to forgive. Someone to love like You love.
And then help us do it again...and again...and again without counting the cost. Because You didn't. O Lord Jesus, thank You. To God be the glory.
Monday, September 16, 2013
Gratitude for golf...and other gifts
For anyone reading this who hates golf, I apologize. I used to be firmly in your camp, but I have to say I'm converted--thanks to three boys and a husband who love it so. Now that doesn't mean I play--O nooo, I watch, walk, and talk. But those are three of my favorite pastimes anyway (watching, walking, and talking while enjoying God's glorious world, that is), so I'm good. If we could just figure out some way to eat chocolate cake while doing all that, then golf would be the perfect sport. I'll work on that.
So today is simply a thank you note to God...but I hope it might remind you of some things for which to be thankful as well.
Thank You, Lord, for the gift of watching our son play golf for Davidson College. This time last year we were still with Janie in the hospital. But this weekend we had the joy of watching his team play at a tournament at UNC-Chapel Hill. Our Wildcats didn't play especially great, but they played, we watched, and we enjoyed every moment of it...okay, well, except when I was feeling sick to my stomach due to gut-twisting anxiety over every shot. Sigh. I'm a work in progress.
This will be one of my favorite memories of the weekend. The guys had just played all day long on Saturday. In college tournaments, they typically play 36 holes on one day and 18 holes the next. Think of it--they walk and carry their own (extremely heavy) bags...for 36 long, stinking holes. In case you're wondering, that is one heck of a workout. They began playing at 8:30 in the morning and finished about 6:30 at night--and that's playing straight-through. No breaks for lunch. No breaks period. Of course, they are all young bucks, so I'm not feeling too sorry for them, but still, it's a game that requires large doses of perseverance and mental toughness (more on that another day).
Anyway, saturday had been a tough day for our beloved Wildcats. None of them had played well. Our son, Richard, struggled with his driving all day and after playing for 10 straight hours, he went over to the driving range to try to work on his driving. His daddy went over and sat down behind him, just enjoying watching and being there with him.
I ran to get my camera, but by the time I got back, the rest of the team had gone over to join him. So here they all were, on the range near 7 p.m., working, talking, trying. No other teams were out there, just our Wildcats, on a warm, lovely fall evening. And a silent prayer of thanksgiving went up from this mama--thanking Him for the moment and the memory.
And so thank You, Lord, for the gift of these fine young men that play with Richard. Such a great group of guys. (And we adore all their families too!) Here they are just after finishing the tournament--
Another thank You, Father, that Janie and Peter were with us yesterday! And of course, our wonderful friend, Ellen Culler, who pretty much ran the whole tournament--and who has been a dear friend of our family's for many, many years. Thank You Lord for the gift of family and friends (especially old friends!). Can we ever thank Him enough for the priceless gift and solace of family and friends?
One more thank You, Lord. Thank You that I was able to watch our son play without dropping dead of a heart attack on the course. I have a long way to go as a spectator, but I did manage to watch without too many gasps or groans. And, every now and then, I actually enjoyed it. Of course, the rest of the time I thought I might spontaneously explode with anxiety or frustration, but well, I'm still here, so that's something.
And it was a spectacular weekend--sunny, warm, just a hint of fall in the sweetly-scented air...God's glory in full display for a perfect fall weekend. If this sin-stained earth could be so breathtakingly beautiful, can we even begin to imagine heaven? Wow, thank You, Father.
Here's hoping today we will all pause to thank the Giver of all good gifts...the big and the little gifts, the ordinary and the surprising gifts, the eagerly anticipated and the not-so-welcome but still allowed by His sovereign hand gifts. And then go on to praise the Glorious Giver Himself who is infinitely greater than any and all of His gifts. Might we live in the grace of gratitude this day knowing that our Father who relentlessly gives and blesses will not fail us in the future.
"Let my mouth be filled with Your praise and with Your glory all the day... I will hope continually, and I will praise You yet more and more. My mouth will tell of Your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all the day, for their number is past my knowledge." (Ps.71:8,14-15) Keep us grateful, Lord. Keep our mouths praising You this day. To God be the glory.
So today is simply a thank you note to God...but I hope it might remind you of some things for which to be thankful as well.
Thank You, Lord, for the gift of watching our son play golf for Davidson College. This time last year we were still with Janie in the hospital. But this weekend we had the joy of watching his team play at a tournament at UNC-Chapel Hill. Our Wildcats didn't play especially great, but they played, we watched, and we enjoyed every moment of it...okay, well, except when I was feeling sick to my stomach due to gut-twisting anxiety over every shot. Sigh. I'm a work in progress.
Anyway, saturday had been a tough day for our beloved Wildcats. None of them had played well. Our son, Richard, struggled with his driving all day and after playing for 10 straight hours, he went over to the driving range to try to work on his driving. His daddy went over and sat down behind him, just enjoying watching and being there with him.
I ran to get my camera, but by the time I got back, the rest of the team had gone over to join him. So here they all were, on the range near 7 p.m., working, talking, trying. No other teams were out there, just our Wildcats, on a warm, lovely fall evening. And a silent prayer of thanksgiving went up from this mama--thanking Him for the moment and the memory.
And so thank You, Lord, for the gift of these fine young men that play with Richard. Such a great group of guys. (And we adore all their families too!) Here they are just after finishing the tournament--
And it was a spectacular weekend--sunny, warm, just a hint of fall in the sweetly-scented air...God's glory in full display for a perfect fall weekend. If this sin-stained earth could be so breathtakingly beautiful, can we even begin to imagine heaven? Wow, thank You, Father.
"Let my mouth be filled with Your praise and with Your glory all the day... I will hope continually, and I will praise You yet more and more. My mouth will tell of Your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all the day, for their number is past my knowledge." (Ps.71:8,14-15) Keep us grateful, Lord. Keep our mouths praising You this day. To God be the glory.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Waiting for miracles
A little food for weekend thought:
From Mark Batterson: "All of us love miracles. We just don't like being in a situation that necessitates one. We hate finding ourselves between an Egyptian army and a Red Sea, but this is how God reveals His glory. We want God to part the Red Sea when the Egyptian army is still in Egypt. We want God to provide for our need before we even need it. But sometimes God waits. And then He waits longer...
So why does God wait until the very last second to make His move? Why does He let the Egyptian army get close? Because you could make a movie about that someday! And we love those kinds of movies, don't we? Unless, of course, we're in the middle of them. Once again, the God who provides just enough parts the Red Sea just in time."
Boy, can I ever relate! We want to experience God's miraculous provision in our lives...but we just aren't willing to be put in positions where we need His provision. I want God to send His manna before I even begin to feel the pangs of hunger. I want to know for certain right now that God will protect, provide for, and bless my children--but it's in their stretching and struggling and waiting that God builds into them His character. Yes, I want miracles...but without the difficulties and hardships associated with needing those miracles.
So, remind us Lord, if we want to see You working supernaturally in our lives, we must be willing to endure some waiting, some discomfort, and some uncertainty in the meantime. If we never lack, we'll never recognize our need. If we never wait or we're never desperate, we'll never make room for the God who provides "just enough, just in time."
Miracles come at a cost...but boy, when they come, they usher in God's glory and grace like nothing else. Help us, Father, to trust while we wait. To God be the glory.
From Mark Batterson: "All of us love miracles. We just don't like being in a situation that necessitates one. We hate finding ourselves between an Egyptian army and a Red Sea, but this is how God reveals His glory. We want God to part the Red Sea when the Egyptian army is still in Egypt. We want God to provide for our need before we even need it. But sometimes God waits. And then He waits longer...
So why does God wait until the very last second to make His move? Why does He let the Egyptian army get close? Because you could make a movie about that someday! And we love those kinds of movies, don't we? Unless, of course, we're in the middle of them. Once again, the God who provides just enough parts the Red Sea just in time."
Boy, can I ever relate! We want to experience God's miraculous provision in our lives...but we just aren't willing to be put in positions where we need His provision. I want God to send His manna before I even begin to feel the pangs of hunger. I want to know for certain right now that God will protect, provide for, and bless my children--but it's in their stretching and struggling and waiting that God builds into them His character. Yes, I want miracles...but without the difficulties and hardships associated with needing those miracles.
So, remind us Lord, if we want to see You working supernaturally in our lives, we must be willing to endure some waiting, some discomfort, and some uncertainty in the meantime. If we never lack, we'll never recognize our need. If we never wait or we're never desperate, we'll never make room for the God who provides "just enough, just in time."
Miracles come at a cost...but boy, when they come, they usher in God's glory and grace like nothing else. Help us, Father, to trust while we wait. To God be the glory.
Friday, September 13, 2013
Hospital room or palatial estate?
What a tragic ending to a life that held so much promise--the life of heiress Huguette Clark. I read briefly about this eccentric and reclusive daughter of copper industrialist, W. A. Clark (who was, apparently in his day, as wealthy as Rockefeller). Huguette, brilliant and talented, certainly had every material advantage known to man, but she as she grew older, she became increasingly reclusive and eccentric. Indeed, when she died at the age of 104, not a single photograph had been taken of her for many decades. And she left none of her vast $300 million estate to any of her family members. Tells you something right there about the nature of her relationships--or at least her familial ones.
But here's the thing that really struck me: Huguette owned a number of palatial estates--in California, New York (15,000 square feel on 5th Avenue!), and Connecticut to name a few. Yet the last 20 years of her life she chose to live in a tiny hospital room...despite the fact that she was perfectly healthy.
Why? Well, apparently over two decades ago, Huguette went to the hospital for some kind of relatively minor health issue. But when it came time to leave and return home, she decided that she much preferred that tiny hospital room to any of her beautiful homes. Despite her good health, she voluntarily chose a sterile hospital room over any of her gorgeous estates scattered throughout the country. Can you imagine? Who would make such a trade?
Well, who indeed. For I had to ask myself, how often do I chose a trade-off just as ridiculous--or tragic--as that? How quickly do I insist on my infinitely inferior ideas or my limited vision of a perfect plan instead of trusting the all-knowing, all-loving God for His perfect plans for my life--or the lives of those that I love.
"No, Lord, it has to be this way!' "No, Lord, this school, not that school for my child." "No, Lord, let me stay here in the safety of my comfortable status quo instead of venturing out into the great adventure of Your often not-so-controllable or predictable plan." "No, Lord. I think I'll just stick it out here in my mud puddle of sin rather than do the hard work of repentance and obedience--even though that leads to freedom!" "No thanks, Lord. I think I prefer my little hospital room of comfort and convenience rather than enjoying the freedom and beauty of Your will, Your way, Your Word."
O Lord, forgive us for our lack of faith and trust in You, Your Word, and Your will! We're tired of settling for the tiny, sterile hospital rooms of our limited plans when You long for us to have so much more...to be so much more. Help us to be willing to step out in faith and obedience into Your glorious and grand adventure for our lives. Sometimes it may be hard...unpredictable...scary...but it's ultimately gloriously good!
As C.S.Lewis said about Aslan--He's not safe...but He's good. That's our Father--not safe. Not status quo. But full of grace, love, power, hope, and joy....and O soooo good. To God be the glory.
But here's the thing that really struck me: Huguette owned a number of palatial estates--in California, New York (15,000 square feel on 5th Avenue!), and Connecticut to name a few. Yet the last 20 years of her life she chose to live in a tiny hospital room...despite the fact that she was perfectly healthy.
Why? Well, apparently over two decades ago, Huguette went to the hospital for some kind of relatively minor health issue. But when it came time to leave and return home, she decided that she much preferred that tiny hospital room to any of her beautiful homes. Despite her good health, she voluntarily chose a sterile hospital room over any of her gorgeous estates scattered throughout the country. Can you imagine? Who would make such a trade?
Well, who indeed. For I had to ask myself, how often do I chose a trade-off just as ridiculous--or tragic--as that? How quickly do I insist on my infinitely inferior ideas or my limited vision of a perfect plan instead of trusting the all-knowing, all-loving God for His perfect plans for my life--or the lives of those that I love.
"No, Lord, it has to be this way!' "No, Lord, this school, not that school for my child." "No, Lord, let me stay here in the safety of my comfortable status quo instead of venturing out into the great adventure of Your often not-so-controllable or predictable plan." "No, Lord. I think I'll just stick it out here in my mud puddle of sin rather than do the hard work of repentance and obedience--even though that leads to freedom!" "No thanks, Lord. I think I prefer my little hospital room of comfort and convenience rather than enjoying the freedom and beauty of Your will, Your way, Your Word."
O Lord, forgive us for our lack of faith and trust in You, Your Word, and Your will! We're tired of settling for the tiny, sterile hospital rooms of our limited plans when You long for us to have so much more...to be so much more. Help us to be willing to step out in faith and obedience into Your glorious and grand adventure for our lives. Sometimes it may be hard...unpredictable...scary...but it's ultimately gloriously good!
As C.S.Lewis said about Aslan--He's not safe...but He's good. That's our Father--not safe. Not status quo. But full of grace, love, power, hope, and joy....and O soooo good. To God be the glory.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
September 11th and our Burden-Bearer
"I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth." (Ps.121:1-2)
A view of God's mountains from a Young Life camp in Malibu, British Columbia...and a reminder that He is our always and forever our Helper and Sustainer.
On this hard day of remembering, this day of September 11, might we also remember the God who sustains us in times of triumph and tragedy. The God who sometimes seems to answer our prayers in dramatic, miraculous ways...but who also sometimes seems to answer them in ways that wound us deeply and leave us wondering why.
But the older I've gotten, the more I've grown to find peace in that hard but mysterious place--that place of knowing God's ways are so much bigger and greater and deeper than anything my puny mind can even begin to conceive. And if He's allowed--or withheld--that trial in our lives, well, then, we can trust that He who knows all, does best.
In the words from a great old hymn-
God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform.
He plants His footsteps in the sea and rides upon the storm..
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take; the clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break in blessings on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.
We may not understand His hand...but we can trust His heart. We may not always like His plan...but we can forever love His perfect Son, our Savior.
And He tells us to "Cast your burden on the Lord, and He shall sustain you." (Ps.55:22)
He is our Burden-Bearer even, and especially, in the midst of September 11th days.
Mark Batterson says: "Sometimes the power of prayer is the power to carry on. It doesn't always change your circumstances, but it gives you the strength to walk through them. When you pray through, the burden is taken off of your shoulders and put on the shoulders of Him who carried the cross to Calvary."
So today, we grieve for those families who lost so much on this day--shoulder their burdens Lord, and give them Your perfect peace. And for all those today who feel mired in the mystery of unanswered prayer and are weighed and worn down by those burdens, O Lord, renew their strength! Give them a fresh vision of the One who bears their burdens and gives them grace for this day, just for this day and this hour, to carry on. Might they take fresh courage knowing that those dreaded clouds are, in Your perfect plan, big with mercy and will one day, one glorious day, break with blessings upon their sometimes parched hearts.
Remind us all--we live in the "not quite yet"--You will, one day, make all things new and right and perfect...soon, but not yet. Help us persevere even in the mystery of the "not yet."
And thank You for bearing our burdens in the meantime...until that glorious day.
To God be the glory.
Monday, September 9, 2013
"Let's go to Sunday School!"
You'd have thought he was embarking on the Baatan death march.
Yesterday morning, our youngest son prepared for the first day of the new year of Sunday school. And I should add, this was not just any first day. This was the first day of going to Middle School Sunday school. It never occurred to me that this might prove anything but routine. I mean, after all, how many times have our children gone to Sunday school over the years? Hmm, well, just goes to show, you mustn't go on autopilot when it comes to your children...though that can be mighty easy and tempting to do.
We started out well enough getting ready for the morning. Dressed--check. Teeth brushed--check (after a reminder and a deep sigh). Grab Bible--check. Run out the door to the car--well, check, but it was at this moment that things started to slooooooow down a bit.
Arrive at church and jump out of the car and rush into Sunday school so we'd be almost on time--NOT check. Instead, my son inexplicably leaned over in the back seat for several moments.
"What on earth are you doing, let's go!" I shouted impatiently as I waited to lock the car doors. When the leaning over continued, I looked in the window and repeated my question--with a little more impatient frustration beginning to sound in my voice and attitude.
"I"m stretching" he responded tersely. Stretching?! Since when did he "stretch" to touch his toes before exiting the car?! I'm starting to get a wee bit suspicious.
And then began the Bataan death march. I'm telling you, slugs could've walked that parking lot faster than he did. Not to mention the amazingly circuitous route he navigated around the cars and cones and, I'm sure, ants and centipedes. It took us forever to walk the normally 2 minute walk from parking lot to front door. Now I'm really getting suspicious.
I hear an exasperated voice declare, "You GO ON! I'm coming. I know where to goooo!"
Okay, here's where I'd like to say I'm such a remarkable, sweet, patient, and wise mom that I slowed and stopped and went and hugged my child and told him how much I loved him and how much God loves him and how much everybody loves him and how much his class will love him....
But, that, of course, would not be what happened. Not on planet Fountain. If you want to hear that story, go read one of those supermom books. Sigh.
Here's what happened in our non-supermom world...cause here's the thing. I'm not a super-mom but I do have a SUPER-GOD!!! So, I praise Him that our Lord broke through--even in my aggravated state--with His still small voice that revealed that, just perhaps, our little guy was the teeniest bit intimidated about this new venture into the Middle School Sunday school world. Thank You for Your grace, Father.
So, impatient Mama finally slowed down and said "I'll wait. I'm going to go in with you to make sure you find the new classroom."
This was not greeted with excitement. O noooo.
"No, you do NOT NEED TO DO THAT!" It was that strange mixture between feeling intimidation as the new guy and absolute mortification at his parent showing her face anywhere near his fellow middle schoolers. O well, what can you say? That's part of a parent's job description: embarrass your children...and I'm pretty good at it.
Anyway, we continued the snail/slug/sloth pace down the halls of Broughton High School (where our church meets). After what seemed like an eternity, we had almost arrived at the door, when he announced: "I need to go the bathroom. You go on! I'm fine!" O yeah, I know that trick. It's amazing how frequently my youngest needs to run to the restroom when it's time for homework or chores...or, apparently, Middle School Sunday school.
"No problem, " I actually replied calmly. (Thank You Jesus--this was not me!) "I'll just wait right here outside the door. As soon as you're finished, we'll head on to class." Okay, I have to admit it, evil mom that I am, I was grinning at the time as I imagined his chagrin and heard his deep, deep sigh from inside the restroom.
"I'm still here waiting, sweetheart, whenever you're ready." Now another admission: I'm also tapping my foot like machine gun fire because I'm hating how late I'm now going to be to our adult Sunday School class. I was so determined to arrive at least close to on time, and here I was again, surely the last one to arrive and feeling like a dead-beat. O well, sometimes you have to make hard choices in life and this was one of them. Look like a dead-beat, ne'er-do-well to my friends in my class or hang in there with my middle schooler and "encourage" him to get to his class.
I chose wisely, and when I finally arrived in my seat, I prayed to myself that God would encourage his little heart and bless him in that class.
The good news--we finally made it. I'm quite certain had anyone been timing us, we'd now be in the Guinness book of records. The really great news--he LOVED it!!! After church, he went on and on about how much fun it was and how much he loved his teachers...
And you know what, I know God was smiling. Because once again, He came through. Sure, came through in answering a haggard mama's prayer about her son enjoying Sunday school, but even more remarkably, broke through in the first place to a frustrated, preoccupied, rushed Mama's heart. He gave wisdom and love and joy in a place where it was desperately needed--my selfish heart.
So thank You, Father. Thank You for never giving up on us. Thank You for always encouraging us as our Perfect Parent--our Abba, our Daddy. Even as I write that, I want to cry--God, my Daddy. Incredible. Thank You for slowing to our pace, but prodding us along when we need it. And thank You that Your grace is always and forever sufficient.
"May our Lord Jesus Christ Himself and God our Father, who loved us and by His grace gave us eternal encouragement and good hope, encourage your hearts and strengthen you in every good deed and wold." (2Thess. 2:16-17) And He did and He does and He always will.
To God be the glory.
Yesterday morning, our youngest son prepared for the first day of the new year of Sunday school. And I should add, this was not just any first day. This was the first day of going to Middle School Sunday school. It never occurred to me that this might prove anything but routine. I mean, after all, how many times have our children gone to Sunday school over the years? Hmm, well, just goes to show, you mustn't go on autopilot when it comes to your children...though that can be mighty easy and tempting to do.
We started out well enough getting ready for the morning. Dressed--check. Teeth brushed--check (after a reminder and a deep sigh). Grab Bible--check. Run out the door to the car--well, check, but it was at this moment that things started to slooooooow down a bit.
Arrive at church and jump out of the car and rush into Sunday school so we'd be almost on time--NOT check. Instead, my son inexplicably leaned over in the back seat for several moments.
"What on earth are you doing, let's go!" I shouted impatiently as I waited to lock the car doors. When the leaning over continued, I looked in the window and repeated my question--with a little more impatient frustration beginning to sound in my voice and attitude.
"I"m stretching" he responded tersely. Stretching?! Since when did he "stretch" to touch his toes before exiting the car?! I'm starting to get a wee bit suspicious.
And then began the Bataan death march. I'm telling you, slugs could've walked that parking lot faster than he did. Not to mention the amazingly circuitous route he navigated around the cars and cones and, I'm sure, ants and centipedes. It took us forever to walk the normally 2 minute walk from parking lot to front door. Now I'm really getting suspicious.
I hear an exasperated voice declare, "You GO ON! I'm coming. I know where to goooo!"
Okay, here's where I'd like to say I'm such a remarkable, sweet, patient, and wise mom that I slowed and stopped and went and hugged my child and told him how much I loved him and how much God loves him and how much everybody loves him and how much his class will love him....
But, that, of course, would not be what happened. Not on planet Fountain. If you want to hear that story, go read one of those supermom books. Sigh.
Here's what happened in our non-supermom world...cause here's the thing. I'm not a super-mom but I do have a SUPER-GOD!!! So, I praise Him that our Lord broke through--even in my aggravated state--with His still small voice that revealed that, just perhaps, our little guy was the teeniest bit intimidated about this new venture into the Middle School Sunday school world. Thank You for Your grace, Father.
So, impatient Mama finally slowed down and said "I'll wait. I'm going to go in with you to make sure you find the new classroom."
This was not greeted with excitement. O noooo.
"No, you do NOT NEED TO DO THAT!" It was that strange mixture between feeling intimidation as the new guy and absolute mortification at his parent showing her face anywhere near his fellow middle schoolers. O well, what can you say? That's part of a parent's job description: embarrass your children...and I'm pretty good at it.
Anyway, we continued the snail/slug/sloth pace down the halls of Broughton High School (where our church meets). After what seemed like an eternity, we had almost arrived at the door, when he announced: "I need to go the bathroom. You go on! I'm fine!" O yeah, I know that trick. It's amazing how frequently my youngest needs to run to the restroom when it's time for homework or chores...or, apparently, Middle School Sunday school.
"No problem, " I actually replied calmly. (Thank You Jesus--this was not me!) "I'll just wait right here outside the door. As soon as you're finished, we'll head on to class." Okay, I have to admit it, evil mom that I am, I was grinning at the time as I imagined his chagrin and heard his deep, deep sigh from inside the restroom.
"I'm still here waiting, sweetheart, whenever you're ready." Now another admission: I'm also tapping my foot like machine gun fire because I'm hating how late I'm now going to be to our adult Sunday School class. I was so determined to arrive at least close to on time, and here I was again, surely the last one to arrive and feeling like a dead-beat. O well, sometimes you have to make hard choices in life and this was one of them. Look like a dead-beat, ne'er-do-well to my friends in my class or hang in there with my middle schooler and "encourage" him to get to his class.
I chose wisely, and when I finally arrived in my seat, I prayed to myself that God would encourage his little heart and bless him in that class.
The good news--we finally made it. I'm quite certain had anyone been timing us, we'd now be in the Guinness book of records. The really great news--he LOVED it!!! After church, he went on and on about how much fun it was and how much he loved his teachers...
And you know what, I know God was smiling. Because once again, He came through. Sure, came through in answering a haggard mama's prayer about her son enjoying Sunday school, but even more remarkably, broke through in the first place to a frustrated, preoccupied, rushed Mama's heart. He gave wisdom and love and joy in a place where it was desperately needed--my selfish heart.
So thank You, Father. Thank You for never giving up on us. Thank You for always encouraging us as our Perfect Parent--our Abba, our Daddy. Even as I write that, I want to cry--God, my Daddy. Incredible. Thank You for slowing to our pace, but prodding us along when we need it. And thank You that Your grace is always and forever sufficient.
"May our Lord Jesus Christ Himself and God our Father, who loved us and by His grace gave us eternal encouragement and good hope, encourage your hearts and strengthen you in every good deed and wold." (2Thess. 2:16-17) And He did and He does and He always will.
To God be the glory.
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Cross out the "I!"
Just a little food for weekend thought:
I've been reading about the lives of several remarkable women. One of them, Helen Roseveare, was a medial missionary in Africa in the Congo for many years where she founded and built several hospitals and medical training facilities (and in which she also served as a doctor and teacher). A truly remarkable woman, but her workload was almost unfathomable.
She writes honestly of the times when her temper would get the best of her or she would grow impatient and snap at those around her due to overwork and exhaustion. Boy, none of us can imagine what that would be like, I'm sure! HA! Here are her powerful and convicting words after one such incident:
"I struggled on through a few more frustratingly, irritating weeks. I knew God was speaking to me, but I would not listen...I piled up the excuses--my over weariness, my taunt nerves, the load of responsibility.
Then one morning at our Bible study hour, I broke down. The Holy Spirit was working in the hearts of African students and pupils and workmen, but not in my cold, hard heart, and I could bear it no more.
Suddenly I knew I had to get away from it all and sort myself out and seek God's forgiveness and restoration, if I was to continue in the work.
Pastor Ndugu [her African pastor] had seen my spiritual need and made all the arrangements for me to go to stay in his village for a long weekend....There he gave me a room, and left me alone. I sought God's face for two unhappy days, but I could find no peace...I knew I was quite unworthy of the title 'missionary.'
Sunday evening, Pastor Ndugu called me out to the fireside where he and his wife, Tamoma, were sitting... We prayed. A great still silence wrapped us around....
Opening his Bible at Galatians 2:20, he drew a straight line in the dirt floor with his heel. 'I,' he said, 'the capital I in our lives, Self, is the great enemy...
Helen...the trouble with you is that we can see so much of Helen that we cannot see Jesus.'
...My eyes filled with tears.
'I notice that you drink much coffee,' he continued...apparently going off on a tangent. 'When they bring a mug to you...you stand there holding it, until it is cool enough to drink. May I suggest that every time, as you stand and wait, you should just lift your heart to God and pray...' and as he spoke, he moved his heel in the dirt across the I he had previously drawn, '[and say] Please God, cross out the I.'
There in the dirt was his lesson of simplified theology--the Cross--the crossed-out I life...'I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.' (Gal. 2:20)"
Lord, how often does that reflect me? Do folks fail to see Jesus because they see far too much "I?" O how prone we are to crave applause, or even just appreciation rather than desiring that Christ be magnified in our lives. And isn't our irritability or impatience with others--whether our family members or simply that slow driver in front of us--simply an indication of our uncrucified egos? Of our (or at least my) selfish desire to ultimately get our own way?
This reminds me of a line from a Chris Tomlin song..."It will be my joy to say: Your will, Your way." Can we say that? Can we truly say, "Father, it would be my joy for You to have Your will, Your way--whatever that will and way might mean--in my life and the lives of those I love?
Pastor Ndugu was so right--we have to die to ourselves. We have to daily, hourly ask God to cross out the "I" in our lives so that we can live cross-centered lives. It's the Gal.2:20 life of being crucified with Christ so that Christ lives in us.
But here's the thing--when we die to ourselves and cross out the I, we will discover that we truly live! Eternal, abundant, joyous Life, with a capital "L!"
So Father, a simple prayer, but a life-changing one: Help us this day to "cross out the I" so that others see not the "I" but Jesus. Might we die to our selfishness, unkindness, impatience, and irritability. Might we desire to reflect Jesus far more than we need to be right. O Father, help others to see Jesus as we, by Your grace and for Your glory, cross out the "I!"
To God be the glory.
I've been reading about the lives of several remarkable women. One of them, Helen Roseveare, was a medial missionary in Africa in the Congo for many years where she founded and built several hospitals and medical training facilities (and in which she also served as a doctor and teacher). A truly remarkable woman, but her workload was almost unfathomable.
She writes honestly of the times when her temper would get the best of her or she would grow impatient and snap at those around her due to overwork and exhaustion. Boy, none of us can imagine what that would be like, I'm sure! HA! Here are her powerful and convicting words after one such incident:
"I struggled on through a few more frustratingly, irritating weeks. I knew God was speaking to me, but I would not listen...I piled up the excuses--my over weariness, my taunt nerves, the load of responsibility.
Then one morning at our Bible study hour, I broke down. The Holy Spirit was working in the hearts of African students and pupils and workmen, but not in my cold, hard heart, and I could bear it no more.
Suddenly I knew I had to get away from it all and sort myself out and seek God's forgiveness and restoration, if I was to continue in the work.
Pastor Ndugu [her African pastor] had seen my spiritual need and made all the arrangements for me to go to stay in his village for a long weekend....There he gave me a room, and left me alone. I sought God's face for two unhappy days, but I could find no peace...I knew I was quite unworthy of the title 'missionary.'
Sunday evening, Pastor Ndugu called me out to the fireside where he and his wife, Tamoma, were sitting... We prayed. A great still silence wrapped us around....
Opening his Bible at Galatians 2:20, he drew a straight line in the dirt floor with his heel. 'I,' he said, 'the capital I in our lives, Self, is the great enemy...
Helen...the trouble with you is that we can see so much of Helen that we cannot see Jesus.'
...My eyes filled with tears.
'I notice that you drink much coffee,' he continued...apparently going off on a tangent. 'When they bring a mug to you...you stand there holding it, until it is cool enough to drink. May I suggest that every time, as you stand and wait, you should just lift your heart to God and pray...' and as he spoke, he moved his heel in the dirt across the I he had previously drawn, '[and say] Please God, cross out the I.'
There in the dirt was his lesson of simplified theology--the Cross--the crossed-out I life...'I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.' (Gal. 2:20)"
Lord, how often does that reflect me? Do folks fail to see Jesus because they see far too much "I?" O how prone we are to crave applause, or even just appreciation rather than desiring that Christ be magnified in our lives. And isn't our irritability or impatience with others--whether our family members or simply that slow driver in front of us--simply an indication of our uncrucified egos? Of our (or at least my) selfish desire to ultimately get our own way?
This reminds me of a line from a Chris Tomlin song..."It will be my joy to say: Your will, Your way." Can we say that? Can we truly say, "Father, it would be my joy for You to have Your will, Your way--whatever that will and way might mean--in my life and the lives of those I love?
Pastor Ndugu was so right--we have to die to ourselves. We have to daily, hourly ask God to cross out the "I" in our lives so that we can live cross-centered lives. It's the Gal.2:20 life of being crucified with Christ so that Christ lives in us.
But here's the thing--when we die to ourselves and cross out the I, we will discover that we truly live! Eternal, abundant, joyous Life, with a capital "L!"
So Father, a simple prayer, but a life-changing one: Help us this day to "cross out the I" so that others see not the "I" but Jesus. Might we die to our selfishness, unkindness, impatience, and irritability. Might we desire to reflect Jesus far more than we need to be right. O Father, help others to see Jesus as we, by Your grace and for Your glory, cross out the "I!"
To God be the glory.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Trouble and our Overcomer
Mary Norris and Matt made and gave this to Janie for her high school graduation. It's made of rough wooden planks that were harshly sanded, worked over, primed, and finally painted with Janie's favorite verse. It required a lot of time, effort, and, for the wood especially, hardship! True beauty often requires some painful sanding and chiseling and struggling, doesn't it?
Reminds me of the words of A.W. Tozer: "It is doubtful whether God can bless a man greatly until He has hurt him deeply." We may not understand. We may not like it. But it's simply true. The people I love and admire best on this planet are those whose hearts have been seasoned and softened by suffering and sorrow. An unmistakable beauty emerges--hard, hard won but with a "beauty from ashes" that strengthens others and glorifies God like nothing else.
And so the words on Janie's seasoned planks emerge, clear and beautiful:
"In this world you will have trouble. But take heart; I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)
Jesus' words painted across the wood that He, our Creator, made and that He, our Redeemer, chose to die upon...for us.
Even as I write this, I hear the chorus from a hymn waft drift across: "O the wonderful cross, O the wonderful cross, bids me come and die and find that I may truly live..." O thank You, Jesus, for the harsh, hated, glorious beauty of that rough wooden cross. Your beauty from ashes.
And yes, His Word once again and always not only reveals truth but is Truth. Don't we all know that trouble always seems to find us in this world?...
But Jesus!
But our Redeemer!
But our Overcomer!
O how I love seeing those two words together in the Scriptures. And we see them over and over again: "But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." (Rom.8:8) "My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." (Ps.73:26) "But God raised Him from the dead..." (Acts 2:24) "But God will redeem my life from the grave..." (Ps.49:15) "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible." (Mt.19:26)
Jesus--the Creator. Jesus--the Redeemer. Jesus--the Overcomer.
Yes, trouble may seem to constantly seek and find us...but our Overcoming Savior tirelessly, relentlessly, and perfectly always, always seeks and finds His beloved children. And His seeking and finding is deeper and stronger and surer and greater than all that trouble.
So today, might we praise our "Hound of Heaven" Who never tires of relentlessly seeking and saving the lost. And Who will never ever leave or forsake His own--whether through sunshine or storms, tranquility or trouble.
He has already overcome the world--
and we are in Him and He is in us. That makes us overcomers too!
To God--our Overcomer and the One through Whom we, too, will overcome--be all the glory.
Monday, September 2, 2013
Planning a wedding...
And when they came back to the house, we were all waiting with lots of hugs and kisses and tears of joy...and a delicious Casa Carbone lasagna supper. And strawberry shortcake. Really doesn't get much better than this. (This was everyone gawking over the ring!)
And then the next day, Matt's wonderful parents came up for the weekend and a couple of Mary Norris' close friends. Really really doesn't get much better than that.
Thank the Lord for dear friends who are helping and advising us. In fact, have I said lately--thank You Father for the priceless gift of friends and family?! No telling where we would be without them.
I'm quite sure I'm the most clueless mother of the bride in the history of the world. Here's my stock response when asked multiple questions from fabulous Brenda who's in charge of receptions at the club (Praise God for Brenda!!): "Well, we haven't thought about that. What do most brides do?" Or "Gee, we have no idea about that. What do you suggest?" Or "Gosh, I don't know. Can we get back to you on that?"
Here, on the other hand, is the question my husband would like for me to be asking--it's quite simple really: "Well, how much would that cost?" Because we are learning weddings are not inexpensive affairs. My dear mama always taught me that it was the teeniest bit tacky to talk about prices and cost... my husband, however, does not agree with that philosophy. And I'm just thinking we can't have a reception with nothing but cheese and crackers. But you never know...as long as there is lots and lots of cake, we ought to be good. (Now there's one aspect of wedding planning I'm really fired up about--cake tasting. Finally, something in all these details and decisions that I ought to be pretty darn good at...but that's another blog post too.)
So, there you have it. We are in great need of mercy and grace...and wisdom and joy and patience and perseverance and hope as we enter these next exciting, but wee bit challenging, months. Aren't you glad God is a God of details...especially when we aren't? And aren't you thankful He is the Lord of perfect and infinite love...especially when we can sometimes start running on fumes in the love department? O, and don't you want to praise Him for His never ending supply of grace--for us, the often ungracious and underserving...and His bountiful mercy and forgiveness--for us, the desperately needy and sinful? And don't forget His limitless strength for the weary, joy for the joyless, and hope for the anxious.
"Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; His understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the weak, and to him who have no might He increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint." (Isa.40:28-31)
Yep, that is our God, and there is none other!
So bring it on wedding! I may be crummy at planning...but I have a Lord who planned and created everything from far flung galaxies down to microscopic cells. I think He's got this too.
And by the way, thank You, Father, for the beautiful, priceless gift of Mary Norris and Matt and their love for You and for one another. That's what it's all about. If we were to have nothing but water and crackers at the reception but we have our Lord, and Mary Norris and Matt and love, well, we are soooo good! To God be the glory.
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