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.

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.

Planning a wedding...

           One of my favorite pictures from Mary Norris and Matt's engagement.  Matt singing Mary Norris a song before proposing on a cool, gorgeous May day on a spectacular overlook in the mountains.  Doesn't get much better than this.

     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.

     And Moses was there to celebrate with us.  And the mama swallow had just completed her nest (well, and daddy swallow was in there helping too)--no babies yet, but lots of swooping in and out of the porch.  Lots of activity and excitement and joy...for the swallows and for us.  Really really really doesn't get much better than this.

       And so now, I'm remembering all this as I'm LOSING MY MIND trying to plan a wedding.  Good grief.  Who knew there could be so many details and decisions...never good for a "big picture" person (that's lingo for "I am horrible with details").  And the list...ooh the list.  Don't get me started.  That's another blog post.  I will need lots of chocolate therapy to deal with that one.
       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.

   

Joyful worshipper or critical consumer?

                              Just a little food for weekend thought--
     Since tomorrow's Sunday, I found some words from C.S. Lewis mighty thought-provoking when it comes to our attitude about church.  How do we, well shoot, how do I,  approach worship?  Do I drive to church expectant and excited about what God has for me?  Do we walk in the doors of church as if we were being ushered into the throne room of heaven...filled with awe at this unspeakable privilege?  And enjoying this high and holy privilege with a bunch of people we love--wow!  
     Are we joyfully wanting to praise and glorify our Savior or are we petulantly waiting to be entertained and engaged?
      It's so easy to fall into the trap of insisting that my needs be met, that my notions and opinions about everything from the music to the style of worship to the length of the message must be fulfilled to the fullest extent.  Tragically,  our often prideful insistence on "having it my way or the highway" has one of two outcomes: either restless and relentless church shopping (because we assume there's some mythical, perfect church out there somewhere that will meet all our exacting, rigorous standards).  Or sitting in church but with our minds a thousand miles away....inwardly complaining about the temperature or the sound system or the meandering message
     Geez, that's just so terribly wrong.  And sadly, we're the ones who miss out on all God has for us, on all He longs to say to us, on all the ways He wants to equip, encourage, and strengthen us for the coming week.  But how often do we forfeit all that supernatural manna with our inward negative chatter or our preoccupation with all the detritus of life (ever go through your to-do list in your head?).
     So here's what Lewis wrote: "What He [God] wants of the layman in church is an attitude which may, indeed, be critical in the sense of rejecting what is false or unhelpful, but which is wholly uncritical in the sense that it does not appraise--does not waste time in thinking about what it rejects, but lays itself open in uncommenting, humble receptivity to any nourishment that is going...This attitude, especially during sermons, creates the condition...in which platitudes can become really audible to a human soul."
     Once again, it's so often about our attitude, isn't it?  And no one controls my attitude but me, myself and I!  I can't control the circumstances around me, but I sure as shooting can control my attitude and response to those circumstances.  We have the choice to come to church as joyful worshippers and grateful receivers of all that God has for us...or as preoccupied attenders and endlessly critical consumers.  The path of blessing or cursing.  And we choose.
     Once again, our Lord never compels.  Never insists.  He leaves it up to us whether or not we will come to Him with humble love, grateful praise, and teachable spirits.  O Father, help us to choose wisely and rightly this Sunday...and every day.  Might we "Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise.  Give thanks to Him, bless His name."  (Psalm 100:4)  Might we choose blessing and life this Sunday and everyday by choosing You.
     To God be the glory.
   
   

No more death

          I have loved reading the prayers of Scotty Smith, and in particular one I just read yesterday--"A Prayer about No More Death."  Amen to that.  The older I've gotten, the more loved ones I've lost, the more painful partings I've endured, the more suffering and defeat and failure and tears I've experienced and witnessed, well, it all just makes me long for that glorious day when faith will become sight.  And when death has not only been defeated but will be utterly destroyed, removed, and wiped away even from our vocabulary.  No more broken bones, broken hearts, broken dreams, broken spirits, broken bodies, broken relationships, broken environments...no more broken anything.   Only whole and healthy and happy and holy...one day...one day.
     But until then, we live in a world where brokenness, exhaustion, separation, and sickness are still a reality, though all tempered by our hope--our certain, but nonetheless not-yet-fulfilled, hope--that Christ has already won the victory over sin and death.  He will one day make all things new, perfect, permanent, and completely death-proof.  How great will that be?!
     So here's Smith's prayer.  May it encourage your heart over this Labor Day weekend and remind you that no matter where you might be right now, Christ has already defeated death and secured our ultimate victory.  And in the meantime "We can do all things through Him who strengthens us." (Phil 4:13)  Right?  Right!

     "Dear Jesus, I've never longed for the day of 'no more death' more so than today.  It's a source of immeasurable comfort to know this promise is trustworthy and true, for your death was the death of death, Jesus.  Indeed, Jesus, you are making all things new.  Your resurrection is the guarantee and first fruits of a whole new order.  Decay and death, in every form, will be gone forever.  Hasten that day, Jesus; hasten that day.  No more picking out caskets for loved one.  No more compost piles of yesterday's bouquets.  No more walking to divorce court with broken friends.  No more death of innocence.  No more life-robbing cancers.  No more burying of unrealized dreams.  No more environmental disasters.  No longer the heartache of 'putting down' a beloved pet.
     Jesus, this is the first day in nearly 16 years I wake up minus a faithful friend.  The void is great and the tears are many.  Luther had it right: some of the greatest companions you give us in life are our pets.  I never dreamed a Yorkshire terrier could have been such a declaration of Your glory.
     A part of me is embarrassed for feeling so sad. The other part says, 'Go for it.  Let yourself go.  Grieve the loss; grieve the ugliness of death that you might advocate for the promise of life--resurrection life--eternal life.'  Surely that's the way of the gospel, Jesus.
     So as You wipe away my tears, please fuel my hope and focus my gaze.  Death is defeated but not yet annihilated.  Decay will be no more, but not yet.  Send us forth as your people, Jesus, into the valley of the shadow of death with a glimpse of the first sunrise in the new heaven and new earth.  It's supposed to feel like hurt and hope at the same time.
     You will make the written saying true: 'Death has been swallowed up in victory.'  'Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?' (I Cor.15:54-55)  You are the grave robber, Jesus.  Our labors in You are not in vain.  In Your trustworthy and triumphant name I pray.  Amen."

     All I can say is Amen!  Lord, even as we grieve whatever sorrow, separation, or suffering death's curse has wrought in our lives, might You "fuel our hope and focus our gaze" upon our glorious Grave Robber, the Lord Jesus.  Whether we're missing a faithful old friend--

Or dealing with broken bones or broken health--  (just remembering!)

Or whatever our loss, keep us tethered to the promise of Your Word, Lord.  We praise the One Who will one day wipe away every single tear and will make ALL things new.  In Him we place our certain hope.
     To God be the glory.
   

Sydney speaks

     The Sydney necklace.   Thank You, Jesus.
     I had to run home and change today, because I forgot to put on a very important piece of jewelry: my Sydney necklace--named for a very special young woman.  Today is the second anniversary of her homecoming.
      "God has given us eternal life, and this life is in His Son." (I John 5:11)
     Two years ago on this day, Sydney Boone Gaylord, went home to be with the Lord and met her beloved Bridegroom, the Lord Jesus, face to face for the first time.  Sydney was a greatly loved wife, mother of three, and daughter of two of the finest people I know. While we may remember this day and weep, I imagine there is some serious celebrating going on in heaven.  O give us eyes to see, Father.
      Sydney's earthly life may have ended with a brain tumor, but I cannot help but think of the words from Hebrews 11:4--"he being dead still speaks."  Yes, yes, Sydney's life doesn't just still speak--her life sings!  I can still remember nearly every detail of her funeral...and the last song we sang: "O Happy Day."  Because for Sydney, it was the happiest of days when she would finally meet her Savior face to face.  Sydney wanted to be buried in white--her wedding dress to meet her glorious Bridegroom on her ultimate and perfect wedding day.

     "Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder, crying out,
Hallelujah!
For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns.
Let us rejoice and exult and give Him the glory,
for the marriage supper of the Lamb has come,
and His Bride has made herself ready,
it was granted to her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure--for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints." (Rev.19:6-8)

     Sydney's love for the Lord, her enthusiasm, her love of worship, her appreciation for all things colorful, her great love for her family and friends, but most of all her undiluted adoration of, and joy in, her Savior, O how they speak,...and sing...and glorify the Lord.  What a reminder--it's not the length of life, it's the level of love for God and others.  It's not about the number of years we might live but about the Name of the Lord Jesus and His greatness in our lives.  And it's about enjoying joyous eternal life, not about experiencing copious days of life.
      O Jesus, help us to live--truly live and savor--each day that You choose to give us...all by Your grace, all to Your glory. None of us is guaranteed tomorrow.  Nor do we have yesterday.  We have only today, this very day,  this moment, to live fully and freely to the praise of Your glory.
      Might we make much of You, Lord, each and every day, so that on that great and glorious day when we, too, meet our beloved Bridegroom face to face, we will be ready to sing and laugh and dance in the streets of heaven.  With Sydney.  And with so many beloved family and friends who, even though, dead, still speak.  For in reality, they live--truly LIVE!  
     It will be one happy, happy day...after day...after day...after day....and on into eternity with Jesus.
     To God be the glory.

Mourning into dancing

     Okay I lied--one more thing!  And such a seemingly little thing...but really, aren't all those "little things" ultimately the big things that give our lives satisfaction, joy, and meaning?
      All those small moments...when we suddenly recognize the commonplace as infused with the holy and the eternal.  We slow down for a moment and see, truly see, the wonder of the first leaves of fall or the warmth of a sunny August day.  The happy wag of a dog's tail or the quick, open smile of a child.  The sweet fragrance of flowers as we walk past or the comforting mug of hot tea in the predawn darkness.  The ordinary, but extraordinary, moments of life: playing a card game, folding laundry, sharing a laugh, eating frozen yogurt, going to the grocery store, singing along to a favorite song.  All "small things" that we sometimes need to see with fresh eyes.  Eyes opened by gratitude.
     Here was my small thing today--Target in the sunshine.  Yep, that's it.
      I realized this afternoon--I don't need a trip to Paris or a fancy car or spa vacation or a home makeover.  Nope, none of those will bring us lasting satisfaction.  If that's what we're chasing after, we'll find ourselves endlessly striving and searching and, in the end, empty.
     But this afternoon, I ran over to Target to pick up a few things for our youngest child who was home sick.  I bet you know the feeling--just going through the motions of shopping and buying and lugging out bags of groceries while clicking off in my mind all the items remaining on my lengthy to-do list.
     And then, wham, it hit me.  What was I doing and feeling at this moment last year?  I stood in the parking lot, suddenly stunned, and looked about me. What a gloriously sunny August day!   How had I failed to notice earlier?  And here I was with the freedom of being able to go to Target to get what my family needed.  I wasn't in a hospital room, cut off from the rest of the world.  I wasn't looking out a window, wondering what all those people outside were so busy rushing about and doing.  I wasn't listening to beeping buzzing machines and watching life-sustaining monitors.
     No, here I was, one year later, walking in the sun, free to go to Target or my children's schools or the bank or the dry cleaners.  Such freedom!  Such beauty--even in a parking lot--with the sun shining strong and clear.  And if you had seen me just then, you would have glimpsed a happy smile mingled with tears of amazement at the goodness and grace of God.
     But here's why I share this--because perhaps someone reading this is right where we were one year ago.  Maybe there's someone who feels stuck in the heart of darkness or confusion or fear or even despair today, and you cannot imagine ever walking out in the light of happiness again.  This afternoon, it hit me so plainly--I need to tell you from personal experience that you will come out on the other side.  Whatever you might be enduring today will not last forever.  It might feel like it will.  You might be certain you'll never smile or laugh or sing or savor life again...but you will.  You will.
     I couldn't have dreamed as I stood staring out that window in Janie's ICU room a year earlier that on that same day, one year later, I'd be walking out of Target in the sunshine, feeling unabated joy.  I couldn't have begun to imagine how radically different life would feel only one year later.  But that's the nature of life--ebbs and flows.  Lows and highs.  Burdens and blessings.  Darkness and light.  Storms and sunshine.
     This life consists of both for all of us.  We will never experience only sunny days and smooth sailing.  None of us gets a pass on hardship, sorrow, and difficulty.  Nope, we'll all face storms.  But we face them with Jesus.  He's with us in the midst of the crashing waves.  He's with us in that tempest-tossed boat, and He will carry us through to the other side.
     And truth be told, without the sorrows, the celebrations would never be half so glorious.  Without the rain, the sun would scorch the earth.  And if we didn't experience the darkness, we could never appreciate the brightness and wonder of the light.  No, life consists of both...and God uses both.  Often His choicest lessons are in the dark.
       But the dawn will always always always follow the darkness.  When you can't see the way ahead, sometimes you just have to choose by faith to keep walking, keep rowing, and keep trusting that God will somehow get you through to the other side...knowing that one day, some day, you will again find joy and laughter and peace.
       Whatever kind of storm you might be enduring right now will not last forever.  "Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning." (Ps.30:5)  And "You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;  You have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my glory may sing Your praise and not be silent.  O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever!" (Ps.30:11-12)
     And for all of us, no matter our storms, heaven is ahead--joy and glory unimaginable!  So surely we can hang in there just a little bit longer for that glorious dawn.
     Simple message, but maybe one person out there needs reminding--whatever it is, it will not last forever.  Joy's on the horizon.  One fine day you will suddenly find yourself marveling at the simple gift of sunshine or laughter or music...or even shopping at Target!  And when you do, remember to thank the One who turned your mourning into dancing.  'Cause that's Who He is--the God of Resurrection.
      To God be all the glory.