From sin...to repentance..to joy and Life

        Oh how thankful I am for God's Word, for His forgiveness, and for His grace...and how desperately I need each of them--and Him--every moment of every hour!  Thank You, Lord Jesus!
        This past weekend, we had the pleasure of going to a golf tournament in Morganton called the Joe Cheves.  It's named for a wonderful man (and his son) whom we never had the privilege of meeting in this life, but boy, they both sound remarkable.  And the tournament was simply top notch--from the bagpiper and opening ceremony on the morning of the first day to the U.S. serviceman shaking the hands of every competitor on the last hole of the tournament the final day.
        So here I was: in a beautiful little town...with my husband and son...getting to watch our youngest son play golf...on a beautiful, sunny end-of-summer August weekend...at a truly delightful golf tournament...with a number of great golf friends...sharing several delicious dinners at terrific local restaurants...and all of this four years to the very weekend of Janie's accident.  You'd think I would have been one overwhelmingly thankful, joyful, contented girl, right?
        Sigh.  Well, that would be quite true about 99% of the time.  But then you've got to factor in yours truly's sin nature.  That would be my tendency to worry and fret--let's call that unbelief, doubt, and fear, because that's what it is. And then there's my tendency--in the heat of the moment--to lose all perspective on what really matters and Who is really in control.
         Yep, here we were enjoying the astounding beauty of God's creation all around us--

       Watching our son and some other really nice young men play golf (play--as in a game!)--

       Watching one of America's finest who so bravely and unselfishly serve our country and secure our freedoms--

     All good.  All wonderful...yet I somehow manage to allow my fickle heart to be hijacked by worry over how our son plays a--did I mention this?--game?  Are you kidding me?  Surrounded by blessings and overflowing goodness, yet my sinful nature can still find something to get upset about, with the sad result that I forfeit all the joy, peace, and wonder God had for me in that moment.  
      It didn't take me long to realize how badly I had run off the rails to my own detriment.  Worry is such a dirty thief--steals your joy, hurts your witness, destroys your peace.  And worst of all, blinds you to the glorious and good God who is right there with you, loving and calling you to come to Him, rather than jumping into that ugly, muddy pit of anxiety and discouragement.
      But no matter how deep our sin and blinding selfishness might be, His forgiveness and grace are infinitely deeper still.  Such is our Savior, and there is none other.
      I read this from Daily Light the very next morning: "The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and He delights in his way.  Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; for the Lord upholds him with His hand." (Ps.37:23-24)  What beautiful, wondrous words.  Our good, good Father forgives and upholds, leads and delights, even when we fail and fall miserably.  Who can comprehend such astounding grace?
      The Lord Jesus not only takes away our sin, He carries away our shame--which often can be as, or even more, debilitating that the sin itself.  When we recognize and repent of our sin--meaning we see our sin for what it is, without making excuses, and choose to turn away from it--Jesus washes that sin and shame away.  "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." (I John 1:9)
       I love that the very word "repentance" means "to change your mind."  That where it all begins, right?  In our minds.  With our thoughts.  And when we choose to confess those sinful actions and thoughts and "change our minds"--by turning away and rejecting them--everything changes!  Our status changes--we're now forgiven and cleansed.  Our attitude changes--we're peaceful and contented.  Our perspective changes--we're wiser and filled with gratitude.  Our outlook changes--we're hopeful and joyful.
         So today, if you're feeling anxious or discouraged or perhaps discontented, ask the Lord to reveal to you your sinful thoughts, attitudes, or actions.  And then be willing to go humbly and in repentance to the throne of all grace to receive forgiveness, mercy, and beautiful grace. "Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." (Heb.4:16)
          There's nothing like the joy of coming home to your Savior and saying simply, "I'm so sorry.  Please forgive me, Abba."
        For He will.  Always.  He's promised in His Word and by His never-changing faithfulness.  Don't waste another moment in the slimy, ugly pit of worry, anger, or whatever you're struggling with today.  Come to the Savior for forgiveness, and find freedom, joy, hope, peace, and Life.
        There's nothing like it.  There's nothing like Him.  To God be the glory.
       

Remembering...and rejoicing

        Remembering...and rejoicing this day.
        Four years ago at about exactly this time in the afternoon, four precious girls from Broughton were in a terrible car wreck.  Their car rolled over several times, three of the four were thrown from the car, and two of them sustained horrific injuries.  Tessa was airlifted to Chapel Hill for multiple broken bones, and Janie was airlifted to Greenville with a life-threatening brain injury.
        It was a day much like today: warm and sunny, school just about to start, and all the stress, busyness and excitement that comes from summer ending and school, fall, and all those activities ramping up.  This time of year always feels like being shot out of cannon (which, thankfully, I have never experienced).  It's going from "Ahhh, summer, beach, mountains, barefoot, reading in the sun, staying up later, no homework, no worries...to AWWWWWW!  We're about to go careening down the precipice of the rollercoaster and we can't stop!  Heeeelp!
       Suffice it to say, we were not anticipating a stop-in-your-tracks, forget everything else, life-changing event to occur that sultry August day.  But isn't that just life?  You never know what's around the corner--good or bad--and that's a blessing.  If we knew the future, we'd just dread it, wringing our hands in despair, certain that we simply cannot survive whatever it is.
       But we can and we will, because the Lord's already there.  He's the One who sustains and strengthens us through it all. As I read in today's Daily Light, "When my spirit was overwhelmed within me, then You knew my path." (Ps.142:3)  Oh what peace that should give us--He knows.  He's there.  He's got it.  And He's got us tightly, lovingly, and eternally in His nail-scarred hands.   We may feel overwhelmed, but the Lord never is.  In fact that's when He does His very best work in our lives.          Early this morning, I reread some of my blogs from those first days after the wreck, and I simply wept and worshipped our awesome, loving Lord.  How well I remember that little ICU room where God's presence was so close, so dear, so all sustaining in those hard, frightening, and often dark days.  It has made me love Jesus more dearly and trust Him more completely.
         As David Jeremiah has said, "Our  Lord's past performance of faithfulness is an ever-present comfort during times of distress.  One of the reasons God allows trials is to strengthen our faith for the future.  Don't waste yesterday's lessons by forgetting the deliverance of God.  The same God who delivered you from the lion and the bear [based on I Samuel where as David faced Goliath, He remembered God helping him overcome the wild animals] will give you victory and grace today and tomorrow."  Amen!
           So Lord, today, we remember and rejoice that in Your great mercy, You saved these four girls.  Thank You for healing them.  Thank You for healing Tessa of her many broken bones, and thank You for waking Janie from her coma and bringing her back to us.  Thank You for all the incredible good You brought out of their accident and their injuries.  Thank You that souls were saved as a result of what those girls endured.  Thank You that You always bring ultimate good out of every single thing--even the hard, dark, mystifying places in our lives. (Rom.8:28)  Thank You that You never ever waste our suffering.  And thank You that You are always with us--right there in the trenches of sorrow and pain--so that we are never forsaken, never alone, never without Your love, grace, and hope.
          For whoever happens to be reading this right now, I don't know what kind of season of suffering you might be entering, enduring, or exiting, but suffering happens to every one of us.  None of us gets a free pass on pain and sorrow.  I pray that these words might encourage you to trust the unseen God and know that He is working and moving even when you can't see or feel Him.  He's there.  He's with you.  He will pull you through.  He will teach you treasures in the darkness (Isa.45:3) that will bring you wisdom and deep joy you cannot imagine.  And one day--maybe in this life, maybe not till eternity--you will fully see, truly understand, and extravagantly rejoice in all that He allowed you to endure and all the ways that He used it in your life and in the lives of others for beautiful good and for eternal glory.
          Janie shared these verses with us this morning that she read in this day's devotion: "O Lord my God, I cried to You for help, and You have healed me.  O Lord, You have brought up my soul from Sheol; You restored me to life from among those who go down to the pit." (Ps.30:2-3)  Thank You, Lord, that that is what You did...and that is what You do.  You are the God who raises, resurrects, restores, and redeems.  We praise You and thank You. Do it again in our lives and in this world, Lord.           To God be the glory.

        A giant p.s.--No need to read the following, but if anyone is interested in reading again what was going on in those very first hours in the hospital four years ago, here it is below.  Sometimes it's good, as Stephen Curtis Chapman sings, "to remember the chains...and remember the chains are gone."  The Lord Jesus is still--and always will be--in the chain-breaking business.  Praise Him!  Four years ago--

     It is 1:00 in the morning, and my daughter and I wage war.  She lies in her hospital bed, impossibly beautiful and serene, while hooked up to all kinds of wires and machines that aid her in her fight, while her mama fights fear with faith, despair with God's promises.  His Word becomes to me a supernatural weapon of power and strength and solace that at various moments in our battle comes alive, piercing the darkness with Truth.  And so we fight. 

     But we do not fight alone. 

     For we fight with an army beside us, behind us, before us.  Even at this moment, the army of the body of Christ fights with us and for us.  Praying when we have no words or strength left.  Praying for my daughter's battle against bleeding and swelling in the brain.  Praying for our peace.  Praying for God's supernatural healing.  Praying for His peace, His enabling, His will, His love, His Light in our darkness.  And we feel their prayers.  Almost palpable, we feel their precious prayers, many through tears, filling us with His presence and perseverance and patience in this long, hard struggle.  We feel the prayers of my daughter's high school friends, so young, so uncertain, and yet so fervent in the only way they know to fight for their friend.  And the prayers of our dear friends and family and family of faith--O how they fill us with determination when we are desperate and with faith when fear assaults.  They are our Aaron and Hur, holding up our arms so that we can continue to wage this war. 

     Thank You thank You thank You, Father, for this body of Christ.  Never before have I so experienced the incredible gift and power and love of Your body of believers who just seem to overflow with Your grace in our hour of greatest need.

     But most of all, as I look out the window in our darkened room and see the glowing moon, I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the Lion of Judah fights for us in this room.  I have felt His presence and power in this tiny cubicle of flashing lights and beeping sounds of monitors.  He is here right now, undergirding, filling, fighting, calming, loving, breathing His Life and Light and Love.  No, in the darkness of this night, my daughter and I, we are not alone, for He is with us and for us and around us and in us.

      O how I thank Him.  O how I love Him.  For He knows what it is to fight against death and despair, against fear and pain.  He fought it at the cross and won.  And so, too, one day we all will win.  We may lose a war or two along the way, but our ultimate victory is assured.  And so we fight on. 

     We do not know how or when our war will end.  The way ahead is long and hard and uncertain.  But we do not fight alone.  With the prayers and love of the body of Christ, with the powerful presence of our Savior, the Lion of Judah, we will continue to wage war, and, by the grace of God, we will not give up or give in.  Fighting fear with faith.  Fighting worry with the Word.  Fighting swelling and brain injury with supernatural prayer and belief. 

    And even as we wage our war, we pray for and with our friends who fight their own battles--whether against disease or doubt or despair.  For my daughter's dear friends hurt in the same car accident--O Father, help and heal them and use this all for glory in their lives and in the lives of a watching world.  For friends battling cancer or struggling with addictions or mental illness--Lord, we don't know all that others are facing, but You do, and You are with them.  Be their mighty Lion of Judah. Be the Light in their darkness.  Be their All in All and fight for them. 

     The last 30 hours have been a blur of battle for us.  But in the midst of it all, God has flooded my heart with His Word from the gospel of John.  When fear overwhelms us, He is our Peace.  He is our Living Water.  He is our Good Shepherd.  He is our Light.  He is our Bread of Life.  He is our Door.  He is our Resurrection and the Life.

      Last night, in the darkness, as my husband and I stood by our daughter's bed, I almost desperately tried to talk to her, encourage her, pray for her, and my dear husband quietly reminded me: "The Lord is keeping her company. She is not alone."  And suddenly I remembered, "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it." (John 1:5)  "Jesus, " I silently prayed, "thank You for keeping her company.  Be her Light in her darkness."

     And He was... and He is.  And He is mine as well.  In this darkness, His Light shines and shines. 

     And so my daughter and I, on this quiet dark night, we fight on.  But not alone.  Never alone.  Thank You Jesus.  I think I can hear You roar. 

     To God, our Savior, our Lion of Judah, be all the glory.

Pass. The. Baton!

                             

         For the record,  I LOVE Allyson Felix.  

        Just wanted to put that out there.  But in addition to that news flash, I have to add that I'm not sure whether to rejoice the Olympics are over so I can finally get something accomplished and get to bed at a decent hour...or whether to despair, well, because it's over.  Sigh.
        Yes, I'm a total Olympics geek.  My family has banished me more than once (okay, it's been multiple times) to another room due to my whooping and hollering.  In fact, I'm stunned NBC never came calling to ask me to come to Rio to help with the commentating and cheering.  I was so ready to join the Today show team of Natalie, Al, Hoda, and Matt, but somehow that message never go through.  Oh well, maybe next time.  

        After all, when it comes to yelling and cheering, I'm on a first name basis with Michael, Simone (both of them), Katie, Laurie, Gwen, and David, to name just a few.  I adore them all.  But oh my, I love, love, love Allyson Felix.  To watch her long, loping stride as she races so gracefully and (seemingly) effortlessly down the track is poetry in motion.
         But more than that, Allyson's a Christ follower who consistently exhibits incredible grace under pressure.  She's dealt with one setback after another this year, and yet here she is, winning Olympic silver and gold medals.  As she recently told one reporter, "I'm currently a work in progress and like anyone else I face struggles every day. My goal is to be more Christ-like each and every day and that is not an easy task.  I know that I'm trying to be something different from [other Olympic runners] and after I run I hope that people can distinguish [Christ-like] character in the way I present myself."            That's knowing you're a sinner saved by grace who's humbly seeking to be salt and light in this world.  And isn't that what we're all called to do?--make a difference for Christ wherever He sovereignly choses to place us.
          I do have to say that one of my favorite memories from this Olympics will also be one of the toughest moments--when the USA women dropped the baton in the 4X100 Relay semifinals and were apparently disqualified and out of the race.  Turns out Allyson dropped the baton in the handoff, because she was bumped and interfered with by the Brazilian runner in the next lane.  It was a devastating turn of events, but to Allyson's credit, she quickly calmed down enough to tell the next runner to pick up the baton and finish the race, so the team would be allowed to make a formal protest. (Apparently, in order to lodge the protest, you have to complete the race.)
         This all happened the day after Allyson lost out on the gold medal when another runner dove over the finish line to beat her by mere hundreds of a second.  And now the talented American relay team was apparently disqualified.  All this, by the way, had followed a terrible ankle injury Allyson suffered in the spring that had threatened to keep her out of the Olympics and contributed to her failing to qualify at the US Olympic trials for her strongest event--the 200 meters.  She was surely, as my daddy would have put it, "Going through a rough patch."
           I digress.  The good--no, the fabulous--news is that whatever big dogs decide on these protests, they agreed with the U.S. and the team got another chance!  The relay team was permitted to rerun their heat that night and had to race against the clock to gain a spot in the finals. Which they did!  With the best time!  And no dropped batons!
            This has already gone on too long--actually I'm showing remarkable restraint as I'd love to give you the blow by blow account--so I'll just cut to the quick to say that the USA team won the Olympic gold the next day...with yours truly, and who knows how many other folks, screaming our lungs out the whole way!  And they prayed together at the end...which pretty much made me cry.  Well that and Allyson's comment to the reporters that her grandmother had told her earlier that day that God wouldn't give her more than she could handle.  Well that and also her tweet quoting my hero, Eric Liddell, "God made me fast.  And when I run, I feel His pleasure."
           But here's what has stuck with me since that race.  One, when you fail, don't quit.  Pick the baton back up and get back in the race.  God can do remarkable and even beautiful things with our failures.  After all, the joy of that relay team's victory was multiplied exponentially by the fact that they almost didn't have the opportunity to run in the finals.  Failure and difficulty gives us wiser perspective and teaches us valuable lessons we'd never learn if we had nothing but success.  So don't quit...ever.  And don't wallow in your failures.  Yeah, maybe scream in frustration like Allyson did for a moment or two...but then pick up that dang baton and get back to running!  (I'm preaching to myself!)
           And second, need I say it?  Pass.  The.  Baton.  We're on this planet only a brief millisecond of time in terms of eternity.  God's given work to each of us to do for Him, and He calls us to hold that baton of faith and then...pass it on.  Pass that baton faithfully.  Pass that baton joyfully.  Pass that baton intentionally.  Pass that baton hopefully.  Pass that baton perseveringly.
          Pass that baton of faith to your children.  Pass it to your friends.  Pass it to your neighbors.  Pass it to whomever God brings into your lane and life.  Pass it in whatever work and ministry God has assigned to you.   No one else can carry and pass on your God-given baton.
         It's not how long we live, but how well we pass on the baton of faith.  And until you hit the tape and your race is over, you've got loads and loads of batons to pass.  Don't give up when you fail or hit life's inevitable roadblocks.  Don't give in to feelings of discouragement.  Don't give out when you're so near the finish line.  Just keep your eyes fixed on Jesus, keep running hard, and pass that baton, by His power, for His glory.
         To God be the glory.  
             

Children, college...and keep on running!

        School begins again.  Which for us means we just dropped off and moved in two of our children in college.  Senior year for one--

         Sophomore year for the other--

         It's mighty quiet back home.  Just Mr. Bingley to give us a happy, hearty greeting (thank You Lord for dogs!).   Seems like yesterday this house was a buzz of frenzy with five children, mountains of laundry, piles of shoes, and endless back to school orientations from preschool, elementary school, and middle school.  Now we're down to one high school freshman--for whom I thank God--and trying to keep up with college students and grown children living in other cities.  
         When I arrived back home the other day after dropping off our first college student, I cried and cried.  How I love summer!  The warmth, no homework, no schedules, children coming home, and time together with family and friends.  So I wept for the end of summer.  I wept for the children leaving home.  But most of all, I wept that time relentlessly marches on, and try as I might, I simply cannot hold onto those I love tightly enough.  They grow up and leave--for which, again, I thank the Lord--but I MISS THEM!  I miss the noise and mess and energy and activity.  I miss having those I love right smack dab here with me all the time.
           But here's the thing--we can't stop time.  We can't stop--nor would we ever want to--our children from growing up, leaving  us, and going out into this big world to make a difference for Christ and living for His glory.  But here's what we can do--keep running our race.  As long as we're still here, God is not finished with us yet...so we keep running "with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God." (Heb.12:1-2)
          For those of you who have grown children, God's not finished with you or your children yet.  Whether you have young children, grown children, or no children, if you're still breathing, God's still working.  And He's got plans--good plans--for each of us.  He's promised: "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.'" (Jer.29:11)            
           Until the Lord takes us home to heaven, He's not finished with us...which means we're not finished.  And we've gotta keep running the race of faith.  Keep loving and encouraging our children--whether they are still at home or are away.  Keep fixing our gaze on Jesus and running each day by His power and for His glory.  Keep sharing the love of Christ with everyone He brings into our path.  Keep living out the grace and power of the Gospel day by day.  Keep reading and being transformed by His life-giving Word.  Keep rejecting worry and anxiety, and instead keep praying and giving thanks in everything (Phil.4:6)
         Whatever season of life we're in, God's got work for us to do, people for us to love, faith for us to grow, gratitude for us to express, and joy for us to experience.  Oh might we stay faithful and focused on running our race all the way to the finish line...all the way till we hear His beautiful voice exclaiming, "Well done My good and faithful child...enter into the joy of Your Abba."
          Yep, the house may be quiet but my heart is full.  Thank You, Father, for the joyous gift of our children and the privilege of raising these five eternal souls.  Thank You for Your endless grace--I've messed up so badly and so often, but Your grace and forgiveness are deeper and greater still.  Thank You for the treasure of dear friends. Thank You for Your Word that transforms and renews our mind.  Thank You for the beauty of Your world.  Thank You for work to do and folks to love.  Thank You that Your mercies are new every morning and Your faithfulness never, ever fails.  Thank You for Jesus--our Savior, Redeemer, Lord, and Friend.
          Father, please keep us faithful.  Keep us thankful.  And keep us running the race You've marked out for us--all by Your power, all to Your glory, all the way to the finish line.
          To God be the glory.  
         

The Olympics!

        Not to complain, but today I'm tired...bordering on exhausted, actually.   I've got mush-brain, am fighting the beginning of a cold, and am struggling to get much of anything accomplished.
       And the Olympics are totally to blame...staying up waaaay too late every night, glued to the TV.
        But my oh my, if you're an addict like me, aren't they simply fabulous?  Who knew water polo or skeet shooting could be so fascinating, engrossing even?  I've watched and yelled and cheered on to victory Michael Phelps, Simone Biles, Katie Ledecky, Simone Manuel, and all the rest of the USA olympic team in every sport from beach volleyball to synchronized diving (YAY Johnson and Boudia!!) to cycling to swimming of all types and distances.  I love, love, love it all!
        And since it's now time for women's trampoline, let's keep this short and sweet.  Just two comments.  First, thank the Lord for the timing of the Olympics.  If our country ever needed something to cheer about, something positive and good to watch and listen to, something encouraging and thrilling to focus upon, it is NOW!  I think I've successfully avoided watching or listening to the super depressing, negative news (especially political--mercy!!) for the past week, and can I just say, it's been glorious?  Feels kind of like taking a long, hot shower and getting wonderfully clean after wallowing in the mud and sweating in the heat on a long, tough hike.  Thank You, Lord, for the Olympics and for reminding us that there's still plenty of good stuff happening in the world.
        Second, how great are so many of these stories from the Olympics?  We cheered and cried when we heard the synchronized divers, Boudia and Johnson, share that the way they stayed calm, kept it all in perspective, and dealt with the pressure was: "My  identity is rooted in Christ."  They both have amazing stories of heartache, struggle, and ultimately redemption through the power of Christ.  You may not read about it in the newspaper, but look it up on youtube and listen to their stories.  Wow--Christ is in the redemption business.
         Or how about Michael Phelps?  Two years ago, he had his second drunken driving arrest and was a suicidal alcoholic.  He described himself as "a train wreck.  I felt lost."  Phelps told ESPN that after that arrest, he "thought the world would just be better off without me . . . I figured that was the best thing to do — just end my life."
         His friend, Ray Lewis (as in the former All-Pro linebacker and an outspoken believer), saw Phelps' despair and told him, "This is when we fight . . . This is when real character shows up. Don’t shut down. If you shut down we all lose.”
          Lewis convinced Phelps to enter rehab and gave him a copy of Rick Warren's classic, The Purpose Driven Life.  Within days, Phelps called Lewis to tell him the book had changed his life. Phelps explained to ESPN that the book had "turned me into believing there is a power greater than myself and there is a purpose for me on this planet.”
         I don't where Phelps' faith is, but I do know that his life has turned around.  He has reconciled with his father from whom he'd been estranged for over twenty years.  He has a new purpose, a new fiance, a new baby, a new determination, a new love for his sport, and a new peace.   And man oh man, can that boy swim!  He's simply a joy to watch.
         There's story after story like this from the Olympics, and it reminds us that God has His people everywhere.  From the pool to the track.  From the soccer field to the gymnastics mat.  From the elementary school to the stock exchange.  From the manufacturing plant to the hospital.  Our sovereign Lord is everywhere.  His plans will never be thwarted.  And He has placed His people in all sorts of places, doing all sorts of things, and accomplishing all sorts of purposes.
        I don't know about you, but that puts a spring in my step and renewed hope in my heart.  We're never alone.  Never.  God is always, always, always with us...and He has infiltrated this planet with His people.  As C.S. Lewis put it, "Enemy-occupied territory---that is what this world is. Christianity is the story of how the rightful King has landed, you might say landed in disguise, and is calling us to take part in a great campaign of sabotage.”
        So go Simone! Go Johnson and Boudia!  Go Katie!  Go USA!  But never forget the infinitely bigger Story behind all their stories--the King has landed.  He has already won the victory.  And we are each called to serve our King to the best of our ability in whatever arena of the battle He has placed us.  Whether in sports, school, business, home, or wherever He's sovereignly set us "for such a time as this." (Esther 4:14) All by His grace.  All for His glory.
         To quote Simone Manuel, "All Glory to God!  Isn't He awesome?!"  Preach it, Simone, preach it!  To God be all the glory.
       

Our Lord...our Daddy

        "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me." (Ps.23:4)
        Hope you'll forgive a few more thoughts on Psalm 23 (the Psalm I've been "memorizing" even though most all of us already know it by heart--I need all the help and positive reinforcement I can get when it comes to my sorry memory).
        Okay, I'm a mighty slow learner, but it's only been since I started committing this Psalm to heart--which means taking it to heart, a whole different thing--that a critical distinction jumped out at me.  David, the writer, switches from talking abut the Lord in the third person ("He makes me lie down...He leads me...") to referring to Him in the second person ("You are with me...You prepare a table before me...").  Have you ever noticed that??  I mean, that's not "proper" writing, is it?
        Oh yes it is!!  Seriously, go back and look at Psalm 23.  Right smack dab in the middle--in verse 4--the writer switches...and it's as if the Almighty Lord has suddenly become the adored Abba.  Almost like David moves from an intellectual knowledge about God and His greatness to an intimate and deeply personal understanding of his heavenly Father.
         And here's the thing--it happens right as David begins talking about sorrow, hardship, and fear.  It's as if walking through that deep, dark valley of the shadow of death has brought David to a whole new level, a whole new understanding and realization of who the Lord is and how His Heavenly Abba is with him and loves him every single moment.
         Oh how I love that, because it's the hidden, beautiful secret of suffering.  In our darkest moments, the glorious, awesome Lord of the universe suddenly can become our dearest, Heavenly Daddy who holds us so close and loves us so dearly.
         I've seen it in my own life again and again.  In those hardest of times, when the walls closed around me and fear constricted my heart, the Lord's presence became so real, so near, so incredibly precious.  In Janie's ICU room, in the blackness and loneliness of the midnight hours, the presence of God felt palpable.  The room pulsed with His glorious but loving, enveloping, sustaining presence. Goodness, my words are so completely inadequate, but it's true and as powerfully real and tangible to me right this moment as it was four years ago.
        In the valley of the shadow of death, if we will turn to our Abba and cry out to Him, we will come to know, love, and enjoy Him in far greater and deeper and sweeter ways than ever before.  The shadows become a path to the radiance of His goodness and grace.  The Almighty Lord becomes our Heavenly Daddy.  The shadows of death bring the Son of Life.  We crawl into His lap and are loved, so loved and held. 
        Today, I don't know what fears or sorrows or difficulties might be casting their dark, frightening shadow over you or those you love. But here's what I do know:
       In the darkness, His Light shines brightest, for He is the Light of the world.  "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." (John 1:5)
       In the shadows, you can come to know the Lord of the universe in deeper, more intimate and sweeter ways than ever before.  What was once theoretical becomes wonderfully realized and personal.  And there's nothing like that closeness.  Nothing.  "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me, your rod and your staff, they comfort me." (Ps.23:4)
        Thank You, Father, thank You for being our Good, Good Shepherd who made us, knows us, loves us, cares for us, forgives us, empowers us, and walks with us every moment of every day and every night.  Thank You that even in those places of our greatest fears and deepest sorrows, You are with us, holding us, and somehow, someway using and redeeming it all for our good and your glory.  (Romans 8:28) We don't know how, but You've promised us this in Your never-failing Word, so we place our trust in You--our changeless, perfect, sovereign, loving Savior.
           Jesus, You endured the worst of death, so that we might pass only through the shadow of death.  You suffered death forsaken and alone, so that we might never ever be alone in our sorrows.  And You defeated sin and death, so that we might have unconquerable, eternal hope that You will defeat and overcome the sin, failure, and fear in our lives as well.  "I have said these things to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)  
          Thank You, Father,  that no matter what the future holds, no matter what we must walk through, we know, know, know that  "You. Are. With. Me."  Always and forever.
         Our Lord...our Daddy.  Oh how we thank You and love You, Abba.
          To God be the glory.  

Rainy and foggy...but thankful!

         The view from our porch yesterday evening when we arrived in the mountains--

Thank You, Lord, for a lovely evening and for the Your magnificent creation.
         The exact same view today...the view all day.  As in all morning, all afternoon, aaaaallll day long--

Sigh.
        Okay, Lord, I'm not feeling particularly thankful for all the rain, rain, rain, and fog, fog, fog...but here's where the rubber meets the road, isn't it?  Am I only grateful for the gifts...or am I infinitely more grateful for the Giver?  Is it all about "Thank You Lord for this blessing and that blessing"...or is it, "Thank You Lord for any blessing You choose to give or to withhold, because You are my greatest treasure of treasures."  What does it take to move me from gratitude to grumbling? And surely it's not something as utterly inconsequential as the weather?
         As I sat here feeling just the slightest bit grumpy--and convicted--Job and his wife came to mind.  You remember Job's good old wife, don't you?  This couple had lost everything, and I mean everything.  All their children, all their worldly goods, and finally even Job's health.  I'd venture to say none of us have ever endured as much unrelenting pain and mystifying loss as righteous Job and his wife.  
        So, Job's wife finally responds...and I'm reminded of the quip (from Calvin Coolidge or someone like that) that we will never get in trouble for words we don't speak.  "Then his wife said to him, 'Do you still hold fast your integrity?  Curse God and die.'  But he said to her, 'You speak as one of the foolish women would speak.  Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?'  In all this Job did not sin with his lips." (Job 2:9-10)
         Now before we get up on our high horse and condemn Job's wife, we've got to remember that Job's wife had lost everything--including every single one of her children.  I cannot imagine.  And then on top of all that, she was watching the man that she loved most in the world endure horrific, unrelenting physical suffering.  Her words were utterly wrong, but still, mercy, what tragedies she had endured.
           Yet look at Job's response: "Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?"  Or earlier, right after learning about all these horrible losses, Job declares, "The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." (Job 1:21)
          Wow.  I simply cannot imagine such faithfulness, and Job's words convict me to the core.  How quickly I can shift into the ugly and ungrateful "what have You done for me lately Lord" mode when things don't go my way.  To paraphrase the great old hymn, "Prone to grumble, Lord, I feel it.  Prone to leave the One I love.  Take my heart, Lord, take and seal it, seal it for Your courts above."
           Sometimes the Lord sends us sunny days...and sometimes rain.  Sometimes success...and sometimes failure.  Sometimes good health...and sometimes sickness.  Sometimes fulfilled dreams...and sometimes bitter disappointments.  Sometimes happy answers to prayer...and sometimes His "Not yet" or even "No" (because He knows best).  
          But the Lord's in it all, working through it all, and using it all for our ultimate good, for His greater glory.  We may not see it this side of heaven, but like Job, we trust...we rest...and we rejoice in Him.  
           So this day, Lord, we choose to give you thanks and praise for whatever You choose to give and whatever You choose to withhold.  You make no mistakes and You do all things well, so we place our trust and our hope in You.  
         "For all that has been, thank You.  For all that is to come, yes."  (Dag Hammarskjold)
         Thank You, Father.  And yes.  To God be the glory.