Today, I'm thankful for the beautiful treasure of friendship and am reminded afresh that we must never take this priceless gift from God for granted.
Last night a group of us had the opportunity to celebrate six decades (and counting!) of life of one of our very dear friends, Joan. What an evening--laughing and talking together, hearing wonderful (and hilarious) stories about Joan, sharing how much her friendship means to all of us, not to mention savoring delicious food together--it doesn't get much better than that! Joan is, to put it simply, a remarkable friend--and so much of friendship consists of continually showing up. Of being there. Of being willing to be vulnerable. Of laughing and crying together so that our joys are multiplied and our sorrows are divided. Friendship maximizes the happiness to be celebrated and diminishes the pain of sorrow and disappointment.
C.S. Lewis once wrote, "Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art, like the universe itself… It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival." Oh my, the incalculable value that friendship adds to our lives! Thank You, Father, for this sweetest of treasures.
God's Word puts it this way: "My command is this: Love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends." (John 15:12-13) That's the mark of believers--how well we love one another. We were never intended to be lone ranger Christians but to live and love in community.
"And let us consider how to stir up one another in love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near." (Heb.10:24-25)
Oh my, how we all need this! Aren't you thankful for friends who have stirred up the sometimes weary, weak embers of love in your heart? Aren't you thankful for friends who encourage you not to give up or give in but to keep running the race of faith? Aren't you thankful for the joy of encouraging others in the midst of the challenging or confusing parts of their race? Aren't you thankful that we have one another to pick each other up when one or the other of us is flagging? Aren't you thankful for the priceless gift of a friend constantly pointing you back to Christ? In the midst of our selfie-obsessed, FOMO, look out for number one world, aren't you thankful for the priceless gift of friends who constantly point you back to Christ? And aren't you thankful for the simple but life-changing by-product that accompanies friendship--laughter?
So today, let's choose to remember and savor God's gift of friendship. Don't allow busyness or laziness or distractedness or pettiness or unforgiveness cause you to neglect this priceless treasure. Instead, ask the Lord to help you to make it a priority to daily appreciate, nurture, and encourage your friends. Make the phone call. Write the note. Plan the outing. Celebrate the small victories. Grieve the losses. Forgive...laugh...pray...share...and point one another to the Savior who is our perfect and eternal and forever faithful Friend.
Thank You, thank You, Father, for our friends.
To God be the glory.
Friday, April 26, 2019
Wednesday, April 17, 2019
Start talking to your tears!
I recently read a devotion from John Piper that really resonated with me. After recounting his thoughts with a few friends, I'm sharing it here as well since it might prove encouraging to some other folks.
I've always loved the verse Piper discusses--"Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him." (Psalm 126:5–6)
Here's what Piper wrote--
"There is nothing sad about sowing seed. It takes no more work than reaping. The days can be beautiful. There can be great hope of harvest.
Yet the psalm speaks of sowing “in tears.” It says that someone “goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing.” So, why are they weeping?
I think the reason is not that sowing is sad, or that sowing is hard. I think the reason has nothing to do with sowing. Sowing is simply the work that has to be done, even when there are things in life that make us cry.
The crops won’t wait while we finish our grief or solve all our problems. If we are going to eat next winter, we must get out in the field and sow the seed, whether we are crying or not.
If you do that, the promise of the psalm is that you will 'reap with shouts of joy.' You will 'come home with shouts of joy, bringing [your] sheaves with [you].' Not because the tears of sowing produce the joy of reaping, but because the sheer sowing produces the reaping, and you need to remember this even when your tears tempt you to give up sowing.
So, here’s the lesson: When there are simple, straightforward jobs to be done, and you are full of sadness, and tears are flowing easily, go ahead and do the jobs with tears. Be realistic. Say to your tears, 'Tears, I feel you. You make me want to quit life. But there is a field to be sown (dishes to be washed, car to be fixed, sermon to be written).'
Then say, on the basis of God’s word, 'Tears, I know that you will not stay forever. The very fact that I just do my work (tears and all) will in the end bring a harvest of blessing. So, go ahead and flow if you must. But I believe — though I do not yet see it or feel it fully — I believe that the simple work of my sowing will bring sheaves of harvest. And my tears will be turned to joy.'"
AMEN and AMEN! I loved that--talk to your tears!
It's like I've shared repeatedly--don't listen to yourself; preach to yourself. Talk to those tears. Proclaim the truth of the gospel to your weary, burdened heart, and then--whether you feel like it or not--simply begin doing the next right thing God has put before you. It might be as simple as making a phone call or making your bed, but sometimes in life we have to choose to "sow in tears" while trusting that God will someday, somehow enable us to reap a harvest of blessing in the future if we "do not give up." (Gal.6:9)
Today, let's choose to talk to our tears, telling them "'Flow if you must,' but the Lord has work for me to do. And I trust that if I will get busy obeying and doing this next right thing, my God will send future blessing on my present faithfulness. 'And my tears will be turned to joy.'"
Because never forget--the Lord who has called you is faithful, and He. Will. Do. It.
(I Thess.5:24)
To God be the glory.
I've always loved the verse Piper discusses--"Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him." (Psalm 126:5–6)
Here's what Piper wrote--
"There is nothing sad about sowing seed. It takes no more work than reaping. The days can be beautiful. There can be great hope of harvest.
Yet the psalm speaks of sowing “in tears.” It says that someone “goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing.” So, why are they weeping?
I think the reason is not that sowing is sad, or that sowing is hard. I think the reason has nothing to do with sowing. Sowing is simply the work that has to be done, even when there are things in life that make us cry.
The crops won’t wait while we finish our grief or solve all our problems. If we are going to eat next winter, we must get out in the field and sow the seed, whether we are crying or not.
If you do that, the promise of the psalm is that you will 'reap with shouts of joy.' You will 'come home with shouts of joy, bringing [your] sheaves with [you].' Not because the tears of sowing produce the joy of reaping, but because the sheer sowing produces the reaping, and you need to remember this even when your tears tempt you to give up sowing.
So, here’s the lesson: When there are simple, straightforward jobs to be done, and you are full of sadness, and tears are flowing easily, go ahead and do the jobs with tears. Be realistic. Say to your tears, 'Tears, I feel you. You make me want to quit life. But there is a field to be sown (dishes to be washed, car to be fixed, sermon to be written).'
Then say, on the basis of God’s word, 'Tears, I know that you will not stay forever. The very fact that I just do my work (tears and all) will in the end bring a harvest of blessing. So, go ahead and flow if you must. But I believe — though I do not yet see it or feel it fully — I believe that the simple work of my sowing will bring sheaves of harvest. And my tears will be turned to joy.'"
AMEN and AMEN! I loved that--talk to your tears!
It's like I've shared repeatedly--don't listen to yourself; preach to yourself. Talk to those tears. Proclaim the truth of the gospel to your weary, burdened heart, and then--whether you feel like it or not--simply begin doing the next right thing God has put before you. It might be as simple as making a phone call or making your bed, but sometimes in life we have to choose to "sow in tears" while trusting that God will someday, somehow enable us to reap a harvest of blessing in the future if we "do not give up." (Gal.6:9)
Today, let's choose to talk to our tears, telling them "'Flow if you must,' but the Lord has work for me to do. And I trust that if I will get busy obeying and doing this next right thing, my God will send future blessing on my present faithfulness. 'And my tears will be turned to joy.'"
Because never forget--the Lord who has called you is faithful, and He. Will. Do. It.
(I Thess.5:24)
To God be the glory.
Sunday, April 14, 2019
A determined dogwood
Just watched Tiger Woods win the Masters...and I must say, if Webb Simpson couldn't win it (always the one we're pulling for!), then Tiger's who we were all cheering for hard at our house. What a comeback! What a reminder that so much of life is about refusing to give up, even when the way gets hard and discouraging. Even when we suffer setbacks. Because nobody, nobody, nobody gets through this life without plenty of setbacks and storms. But often it's those very setbacks and storms that ultimately propel us forward to the higher, better place God has for us.
"And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up." (Gal.6:9)
What a golden verse.
Our family is reminded of this basic but oh so powerful principle--simply refusing to quit even when the going gets tough--when we gaze at our little dogwood tree peaking out between the boxwoods--
Now you might not be that impressed with this little fellow, but believe me, he's a fighter. For you see, we planted this dogwood about five years ago. And he started out mighty tiny and unimpressive. We're talking about a foot and a half high. Why on earth we decided to nestle him amongst these big old boxwoods, I have no idea.
We dutifully watered the little shaver all during the hot summer months. But by his first birthday in the fall, well, let's just say he looked rather sad and forlorn. We saw virtually no growth whatsoever, but we kept watering and hoping....year after year. Still, never a bloom, not many leaves, nothing promising about this guy.
Finally by about the year three, we determined our poor little dogwood had given up the ghost. That spring, we saw no leaves, no nothing. But for some stubborn reason (or maybe it was just sheer laziness), we cut him way back and left his pitiful, skinny little trunk sticking up out of the ground. After all, why bother digging him up when he was hidden by the boxwoods.
And then, low and behold, that spring, against all odds, we saw some branches beginning to poke up just barely past those beefy boxwoods. What on earth? Was it some kind of mutant weed? It couldn't possibly be our poor, desiccated dogwood, could it? There were still no buds, no flowers, of course, but good heavens, there were a few leaves. And he'd grown high enough to peak out the teensiest bit above the bushes. Who would have thought?! We'd done nothing--and I mean nothing--to help him recover. Yet he didn't just recover; this hardy, refusing-to-give-up dogwood actually began to grow and even, dare I say it, thrive!
But this spring, oh my, we were astounded to see not just massive growth, but BLOOMS! Lots and lots of them! Beautiful pink blossoms, all in the lovely shape of the cross--the shape of death leading to resurrection life.
Who would have thought? Well, who would have thought that the most horrendous event in the history of the universe--the crucifixion of the perfect Son of God--would lead to the most wondrous event in human history--the forgiveness of sins and the salvation of lost mankind? God, that's Who.
Thank You, Jesus, for refusing to give up even when we betrayed You, denied You, abused You, tortured You, crucified You, rejected You, ignored You, disobeyed You, failed You. Thank You for finishing the work of our salvation, even though at unimaginable, inconceivable cost to Yourself. Thank You for refusing to quit ever, even now, on us, Your often disobedient, clueless children.
So today, I don't know what storms you might be enduring, what setbacks you've suffered, or what hardships you're fighting against, but don't give up. Don't quit. If Jesus is Your Savior, you have the unconquerable, infinite, omnipotent One within you and for you, and He has promised that He will finish in you that which He started. (Phil.1:6 "And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.") He is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine (Eph.3:20), so Do. Not. Quit. Who knows the harvest of righteousness and glorious good that God has for you if you will simply refuse to give up.
It's always too soon to quit. Always. Not with Jesus. Not ever. Just ask our determined little dogwood.
To God be the glory.
Friday, April 12, 2019
Wisteria...and abiding
One of my favorite little surprises this time of year is the sudden annual appearance of the wisteria blooms that line my walk with Mr. Bingley along Lassiter Mill Road. Or more specifically on one section of the road across from Root Elementary. It's worth braving the steady hum and rush of traffic along the route to meander past those fragrant showy blossoms and inhale their intoxicating perfume. If you're zooming past in your car, slow down and look over when you get to the bridge--although they're starting to fade now, you can still see them.
I took several lovely pictures of them the other day, but for the life of me, I cannot get them to download on this blog. Oh mercy, technology truly drives me insane! I started to give up and go do something else entirely (something easier and more mindless like eating a snack or scrolling through emails) but then thought better of it. Nope, time to buckle down and write. Time to reestablish a habit that I've been woefully neglecting while working on Bible study lectures.
So sorry, no pretty pictures, but here's my silly little unadorned musing...
Wisteria, it turns out, is a vine. Actually, the seeds in the pods can be poisonous and cause severe stomach distress if consumed (just in case you were enticed by that delectable purple color). And I guess you might characterize it as a parasite since it has to have something else to cling to in order to grow. People don't often specifically and purposely plant wisteria. Rather, wisteria seems to have more of a mind of it's own and simply starts to grow...and cling...and twist around and around it's host.
You have now learned the vast extent of my botanical knowledge about wisteria. But I couldn't help but think of that line from Livingston Taylor's song from many years ago: "There are flowers in my garden. Pretty ones all in a row. But my favorite are the weeds. They don't know where to grow...but they know enough to grow."
That's the Lassiter Mill wisteria if you ask me. That wisteria may not know where to grow, but it knows enough to grow.
Nobody planted it; nobody fertilizes it; nobody prunes it; nobody waters it--except the Perfect Gardener. He knows just what that wisteria needs to grow and prosper so that it can gently perfume and adorn a bustling corridor of a busy city. And so that wisteria clings to the branches around it, draws from the soil that the Gardener provided and soaks up the sun He created...and it thrives.
And I'm thinking, maybe that's just the tiniest picture of what it means to abide. "Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me." (John 15:4)
To abide in Christ. To cling to Him, to draw from and soak in His life-giving Word. To moment by moment depend upon Him. To go where He bids us to go and to stay when He bids us to stay. To simply do the next right thing in love that He sends our way. And all the while to abide with Him and in Him. To "Abide in My love" (John 15:9)
If you're anything like me, you have so many weaknesses, so many foibles and frailties. But surely we can simply cling to and abide in Him and His love. Like that wisteria, we can daily seek to draw nourishment and strength from His Word. He's the One who will provide all we need to grow and thrive...but we have to daily, hourly, choose to abide. Abide in the One who is all, who has all, who is perfect forgiveness, love, faithfulness, wisdom, power, peace, joy, strength, grace.
When we have such a glorious, all-sufficient, all-loving One in whom to abide, why on earth would we choose to go it alone? All I know is a wisteria that's not clinging and abiding will wither and die. But when that vine does what the Gardener intended and clings, draws, soaks, abides, that wisteria thrives and blooms...and perfumes...and brings glory to Almighty God. Might we do the same. He is able...and He is infinitely worthy.
To God be the glory.
I took several lovely pictures of them the other day, but for the life of me, I cannot get them to download on this blog. Oh mercy, technology truly drives me insane! I started to give up and go do something else entirely (something easier and more mindless like eating a snack or scrolling through emails) but then thought better of it. Nope, time to buckle down and write. Time to reestablish a habit that I've been woefully neglecting while working on Bible study lectures.
So sorry, no pretty pictures, but here's my silly little unadorned musing...
Wisteria, it turns out, is a vine. Actually, the seeds in the pods can be poisonous and cause severe stomach distress if consumed (just in case you were enticed by that delectable purple color). And I guess you might characterize it as a parasite since it has to have something else to cling to in order to grow. People don't often specifically and purposely plant wisteria. Rather, wisteria seems to have more of a mind of it's own and simply starts to grow...and cling...and twist around and around it's host.
You have now learned the vast extent of my botanical knowledge about wisteria. But I couldn't help but think of that line from Livingston Taylor's song from many years ago: "There are flowers in my garden. Pretty ones all in a row. But my favorite are the weeds. They don't know where to grow...but they know enough to grow."
That's the Lassiter Mill wisteria if you ask me. That wisteria may not know where to grow, but it knows enough to grow.
Nobody planted it; nobody fertilizes it; nobody prunes it; nobody waters it--except the Perfect Gardener. He knows just what that wisteria needs to grow and prosper so that it can gently perfume and adorn a bustling corridor of a busy city. And so that wisteria clings to the branches around it, draws from the soil that the Gardener provided and soaks up the sun He created...and it thrives.
And I'm thinking, maybe that's just the tiniest picture of what it means to abide. "Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me." (John 15:4)
To abide in Christ. To cling to Him, to draw from and soak in His life-giving Word. To moment by moment depend upon Him. To go where He bids us to go and to stay when He bids us to stay. To simply do the next right thing in love that He sends our way. And all the while to abide with Him and in Him. To "Abide in My love" (John 15:9)
If you're anything like me, you have so many weaknesses, so many foibles and frailties. But surely we can simply cling to and abide in Him and His love. Like that wisteria, we can daily seek to draw nourishment and strength from His Word. He's the One who will provide all we need to grow and thrive...but we have to daily, hourly, choose to abide. Abide in the One who is all, who has all, who is perfect forgiveness, love, faithfulness, wisdom, power, peace, joy, strength, grace.
When we have such a glorious, all-sufficient, all-loving One in whom to abide, why on earth would we choose to go it alone? All I know is a wisteria that's not clinging and abiding will wither and die. But when that vine does what the Gardener intended and clings, draws, soaks, abides, that wisteria thrives and blooms...and perfumes...and brings glory to Almighty God. Might we do the same. He is able...and He is infinitely worthy.
To God be the glory.
Saturday, April 6, 2019
A simple thank You
Pay Attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
Thankful for these words today. Because if ever there's a season when we need to wake up, pay attention, be astonished, and share our wonder and our thankfulness to our Almighty Creator, it is spring. Beauty explodes all around us. Are we too busy to notice? Or too familiar with the turn of the seasons to be stunned by the riotous rebirth of color and scent? Or too preoccupied to thank the Giver of all good gifts?
I couldn't help but think of a line from The Color Purple. (I'll rephrase it just a tad to avoid using one ugly word.) "I think it irritates [not the word originally used!] God if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it."
Okay, okay I know God doesn't grow irritated, but surely He intends for His children to pay attention, to be astonished and to rejoice in and thank Him for His magnificent handiwork. We surely don't want to sleepwalk through spring...or any day for that matter. So--
Thank You for the sound of the owl this morning, the brilliant red of the cardinal on the greenway, the burgeoning green all around us, they symmetry of the geese flying overhead. Thank You for the budding pinks and whites of the dogwood in every yard. Thank You for the warmth of the sun and the scent of cut grass and flowers all around us.
Thank You for the priceless gift of our family and friends. Thank You for life. And thank You most of all for Jesus, our Savior.
Lord, help us to pay attention to all You are constantly doing all around us and in us. Might we never lose our sense of wonder and astonishment at Your goodness and grace. And so, Father, thank You. A very simple, very inadequate, but heartfelt, thank You.
To God be the glory.
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