Even so it is well with my soul

      Here's what I should be working on right now--a Bible study lecture.  Oh well.
      I'm blaming this detour on the Lord--He keeps gently, but insistently, tapping me on the shoulder, reminding me of this special day...and of all He teaches us through suffering...and of His faithfulness...and of His grace to bring us through whatever He allows in our lives.
      You see, on the day after Labor Day two years ago, Janie first began to awaken from her coma.  She had just been moved from Greenville to Chapel Hill by what was essentially a traveling ICU.  Amazing.
      The doctors warned us that the trip would be hard on her.  And they were right.  When Janie arrived in Chapel Hill her temperature shot up to 110 degrees.  I didn't even realize you could survive a temperature that high.  We were back close to home--praise God--near our immediate family, my brothers and sisters, and our friends. But Janie was still unconscious, struggling to breathe,  and with an infection, a badly shattered ankle, no movement on her right side, and an extraordinarily high fever.  It was a tough time.  By all accounts, nothing signaled any hope of change or improvement, but still...home.
      And then in that dark moment, when it had appeared she'd taken a big step back, in the very early hours of the day after Labor Day, it happened.  Isn't that how God often works?  It truly is darkest just before the dawn.  Around 2:00 a.m. my husband glanced at Janie's face as the nurses were tending to her...and seemed to see her eyelids suddenly flutter and then crack open just the tiniest bit.
      I cannot write about it even now--too many tears of wonder and gratitude.  But Richard said the nurses rushed up to her face and began shouting to her, "Janie, Janie, can you hear me?  Janie, if you can hear me, wiggle your toes."  And there it was--faint, weak, but nonetheless clearly a little movement of her toes.
      It was the beginning of the most extraordinary few days of our lives--where we stood amazed as we witnessed God slowly awaken and raise our blond-haired Lazarus seemingly from the dead and bring her back to her family and friends.  I'll never forget the first time I saw her awaken for a minute or two.  The nurse yelled her name and told her if she could understand,  to give us a thumbs up.  And there it was--my forever favorite sign--a small, weak, but beautiful, thumbs up with her left hand.  (She still couldn't use her right side at that point.)   I wanted to dance down the halls with the joy of it--thumbs up to the One who had sustained us by His grace through every up and down of the whole ordeal and thumbs up to the One who, in His sovereignty, had allowed Janie to awaken.
       I share this once again, because we have several dear friends who are going through a very difficult season right now.  Richard and I have talked a lot recently about all that God taught us and all the ways He powerfully used this time of suffering in our lives.  Stripping away the extraneous and the sinful.  Teaching us dependence, contentment, trust.  Giving us depths of compassion, empathy and love for others we'd never had before.  Scouring away those chokeholds of pride, preoccupation, and selfishness.
      We will never be the same for the things He taught us, the ways He carried us, and the grace and mercy He extended to us in those dark times.  We wouldn't trade any of the suffering, because of all the gifts, all the good that God brought out of it.
      But oh my, I so want others who are struggling to know that your suffering is not wasted--that God works best in the darkness and He will teach, refine, and draw you closer to Himself as never before in those moments of hardship...if you'll let Him.
      David Jeremiah calls these unexpected times of suffering or difficulty "disruptive moments"--when life takes an unexpected, unwanted turn...due to disappointment or disease or accident or betrayal or suffering of any kind.  Jeremiah has quoted a poem by Helen Steiner Rice about these disruptive moments, or what she refers to as "a bend in the road."  Here are her words--
        Sometimes we come to life's crossroads
        And we view what we think is the end.
        But God has a much wider vision
        And He knows that it's only a bend--

        The road will go on and get smoother
        And after we've stopped for a rest,
        The path that lies hidden beyond us
        Is often the path that is best.

        So rest and relax and grow stronger,
        Let go and let God share your load
        And have faith in a brighter tomorrow--
        You've just come to a bend in the road.
     Please forgive me for talking about the accident again, but we've prayed all along that God would use this to encourage others who are struggling and that His mighty name would be lifted high and glorified.
      God is more than enough to guide you through whatever storm you're enduring.  Look to Him, depend upon Him, seek Him, trust Him.  Don't waste your suffering.  God will use it in ways far beyond anything you can imagine--in your life and in the lives of other people whose names you may never know until you reach heaven.  Oh my, how that redeems our suffering.
      God's Word, of course, says it best--
      "Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart." (Ps.27:14)
      "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God.  I will uphold you, yes, I will help you.  I will uphold you with My righteous right hand." (Isa.41:10)
      "Now no chastening seems to be joyful for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.  Therefore strengthen the feeble hands which hang down and the feeble knees" (Heb.12:11-12).
      In our disruptive moments, in those bends in the road, might we all turn our eyes upon Jesus, in dependence and trust, knowing that He is ever moving and working out all things for our ultimate good and His greater glory. We may, or may not, see it this side of heaven...but we will see it...and He will make all things beautiful in His time.
      "When peace, like a river, attendeth my way;  When sorrows like sea billows roll;  Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul."

      Yes, Lord, even so it is well with my soul.  To God be the glory.
   

God's gift of labor

      On this Labor Day, I'm thinking about work.  Duh.
      We don't always love the thought of work, but it's one of the reasons God placed us here--to "Do business till I come." (Lk 19:13)  And God's work comes in all shapes and sizes.  Yep, there's work in an office or hospital or classroom or courtroom or restaurant.  But there's also work in a home, yard, laundry room, or church.  And surely our most important work can be with a sick friend, a teething baby, a grumpy preschooler, a confused teenager, or a lonely college student.
      God gives each of us work to do, in every season of our lives.  Just as summer's heat transforms into fall's foliage,  our work constantly changes in different seasons of our lives, but thankfully our God does not.  Whatever work He's given us to do in each stage of our lives, we're to do it to the best of our ability, offered as unto the Lord and always to His glory...but then trust the results to our eternally faithful and changeless Father.
      "Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for me, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward.  You are serving the Lord Christ." (Col.3:23-24)
      I cannot tell you how this radically changed my attitude towards work years ago.  I've been a stay-at-home mama for many years now.  And for a number of those years, I somehow missed the point.  I failed to truly grasp that, yes, my work at home was indeed work, and every single bit of it was to be done with thanksgiving and to the glory of God.  Oh my, when you have that as your goal each day and in every job you need to perform, it radically and completely transforms even the most menial of tasks.
     Back in the day, I had a number of friends who were doing big, splashy, important things while living in the hot shot metropolis of New York. They were traveling the globe in exciting careers--all of which was grand.  Except here I was "wasting" my education while changing diapers, cleaning up cheerios goo, and trying to figure out how to cook a decent meal (still working on that one).  And sadly, I was not alway doing it with a joyful attitude.  Well, actually, let me rephrase that--I was rarely doing it with a joyful attitude.  My attitude might've often been described as slightly resentful.  "I went to college and law school for this?"  Sigh.
      But one day, God in His great mercy and grace revealed the truth to me--this was God-given, God-ordained, and God-enabled holy and beautiful labor!  Every bit of it.  And that which God had given should always be received with thanksgiving and, yes, even excitement.  "For everything created by God is good, and nothing is be rejected if it is received with gratitude; for it is sanctified by means of the word of God and prayer." (I Tim.4:5)
      God has given me the privilege, the honor of mothering and caring for five eternal souls (well, actually six--don't want to forget about my husband!)  The Lord has bestowed upon me the gift of work to serve and help them and to do it all, all, all to His glory.  Folding clothes in order to love and bless those in our home...and doing it to the glory of God.  Cleaning up a messy kitchen...or reading bedtime stories...or helping with homework...or running to pick up last minute supplies for a project...all to be done as an offering of love for these wondrous souls God has placed in my life, as well as an offering of love and thanksgiving to my Savior.
      Yeah, some days that work is laborious beyond belief.  Some days you feel like shouting, "How about somebody serving me?"  (Hello selfish, prideful sin nature.)  Some days "your get up and go, just got up and went" and you cannot imagine how you're gonna dredge up an ounce of strength to do what needs to be done.  Shoot, some mornings you wake up and wonder, "I've got to this all over again?  I've got to face the insane, blast-from-a-canon morning routine again?  How on earth will I get everyone up, dressed, fed, devotions...oh mercy."
      But those are the days, we have to cling harder to the cross.  Oh how we need Him--every day, every hour, every chore, every unseen,ungrateful, and unkind motive.  When that selfishness and pride start to rear their ugly heads (which for me is daily),  we go to Jesus in our utterly bankrupt estate and ask for His love, His energy, His compassion, His forgiveness, His kindness, His strength.
     And you know what?  That desperately needy, totally inadequate position is the very best place to be--completely dependent upon Him for our next breathe, our next word, our next bit of work, and our next transformation of attitude.
      There's lots more to say about work, in fact, there may well be more on this subject, but for now, let's just God to give us grateful hearts that readily and happily receive whatever work He has for us to do.  Let's offer it all to Him--whether it's working in an office, a school, a hospital, or a home--asking Him to enable us to do it heartily, completely, prayerfully, and thankfully.
      And whatever our work, might we remember that we are to do it all by God's grace and all to His glory.
      To God be the glory.  

Lost keys and the Throne of Grace

                      A little food for weekend thought:
      Lost my keys the other day.  Yeah, yeah, I know all about putting them in the same place everyday.  How many times have I given that lecture to our children?  sigh.  But that's just it--I always put them in the same place right by the kitchen door in a little container, so this had me completely bamboozled.  Where on earth could they be?  We've searched high and low--behind sofa cushions, in the cavernous recycling receptacle, under bushes, in every possible coat pocket, on shelves...no keys.
      My husband and I spent (or should I say "wasted") several hours looking for those keys yesterday--all to no avail.  Oh well, if the Lord decides we need to find them, we will.
      But here's the thing that convicted me--what was my first response?  Frustration.  Totally frustrated with myself that I could have so foolishly and irresponsibly lost my keys.  Frustrated at wasting all that time looking for keys.  Frustrated and worried that I have no idea where they are--you sure don't want a set of keys floating around out there in the great unknown.
      Yet the most frustrating thing of all is what I didn't do first--pray.  Instead, I went into full bore panic mode searching for those keys.  And the more I looked, the more irritated and anxious I got.
      Until a simple text from a friend:  "Pray about it so you won't be frustrated"  
      Well yeah, there's that.
      Somehow going to the throne of God for lost keys--and far more importantly for my sinful, ungrateful, grumbling heart--had not crossed my mind.  Sure, I had prayed a quick prayer that we'd find the keys, but had I prayed for a peaceful, joyful attitude in the midst of the search?  No.  Had I asked for forgiveness for my complaining, self-centered spirit?  Nope.  Had it occurred to me to ask God to give me that same kind of zeal and focus in seeking and searching for lost souls that I had at the moment for a silly, ridiculous set of lost keys?  Busted.  Oh forgive me, Father.
      But here's the good word.  Oh my, I keep coming back to it again and again this summer--"For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.  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.4:15-16)
      Jesus understands our failures and false starts.  He can sympathize with our tendency to go to pieces over stupid stuff, or to go to grumbling and worrying.  Aren't you thankful He understands?
      But the even more glorious news is He overcame all that sinful gunk at the cross and now He lives to intercede for us...at this very moment.  When we're at our worst.  Our most selfish.  When we've blown it...again.  He tells us to come to with confidence (can you believe that?) to the throne of grace to receive mercy and grace to help us right there, right then, in our time of need.
      I'll never get over the wonder of that.  To go to the Highest Throne in the universe--a throne of power and majesty and greatness and glory--and to do it with confidence.  Not in ourselves, oh no...but in Him.  
      And when we get to that throne, we find not condemnation or even condescension (both of which we deserve), but mercy.  And grace.  And help.   Mercy and grace for our repentance and His forgiveness.  Mercy and grace for our failures and weaknesses and sins.  Mercy and grace to pull us up out of the mire and set us back on the path.  Mercy and grace to equip and empower us to live for His glory.  Mercy and grace to enable us to deal with whatever is facing us and to do it with peace in our hearts and a song in our souls.
      I love these words of Charles Spurgeon: "How encouraging is the thought of the Redeemer's never-ceasing intercession for us.  When we pray, He pleads for us; and when we are not praying, He is advocating our cause, and by His supplications shielding us from unseen dangers.  We little know what we owe to our Savior's prayers.  When we reach the hilltops of heaven, and look back upon all the way whereby the Lord our God hath led us, how we shall praise Him who, before the eternal throne has pleaded our cause against our unseen enemies."
       Oh thank You, thank You, thank You, Lord Jesus, our great, gracious, and merciful High Priest!   Thank You for always interceding for us--day and night, year in and year out, and at this very moment right now--and thank You for the unutterable privilege of coming to Your throne of mercy, grace and help.  Thank You for the cross that provided the bridge to Your throne in heaven.  Oh Lord, might we come this day and everyday to Your throne of grace to receive Your mercy, grace and help.  We love You, Lord.
      To God be the glory.

Love lessons from Bingley

       Ever since he was a wee little fellow, Bingley has loved to snuggle...preferably in your lap--

And he's not partial to any particular lap.  If you're in his "family," he's in your lap--

If you're sitting on the sofa, Mr. B is certain to trot over and softly (but insistently and pathetically) cry.  I'm not kidding.  He's such a baby.  It's as if a little buzzer goes off in his head, and here's what he's thinking: "Time for some lovin'.  I need to be reminded how much you adore me."  

Sometimes, he'll give you no warning...he'll simply walk up to the sofa or chair, and with a soulful expression, suddenly leap into your arms.   You can almost read his mind: "You look as if you need a bit of time and affection, so I'm your guy...uhh, dog." (Though we're not at all sure Bingley realizes he's a dog...not that we spoil him or anything. Ahem.)  

"I think my daddy needs some love"--

"Time for Matt to get some encouragement"--

"Mary Norris' turn (she's in her PJ's--which means it's morning...which means she's tired...which means she really needs my time and attention)"--

"Oh, my boy Peter is practicing his trombone.  I know he could use my help and encouragement"--

"Janie's back from college. I've missed her...and I know she's really missed me, so I better reassure her with a little love"--

Yep, Mr. Bingley has his own special ways of receiving and giving love. He may not be able to say it in words...or with a surprise gift...or even with an act of service...but he does it in the only way he knows how: snuggling.  In fact, we'd say he's olympic calibre in the snuggling department. 

So it got me to thinking: how quickly and consistently do I seek to love and encourage those around me?  Seriously, am I going to let a canine outdo me when it comes to the number one job God assigned to me when He placed me on this planet: to love?  To love my Savior, first and foremost, of course, but then to love those He's sovereignly and graciously placed in my life.  Jesus tells us repeatedly that we are to love one another.  "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.  By this all people will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another." (John 13:34-35) 

Wow, think of that: we're to love as Christ loved us.  That's some kind of standard...and it leaves no room for petty jealousy, ingratitude, resentment, or an unforgiving spirit.  

Nope, if Jesus could forgive me of my enormous, humongous, gigantic load of selfishness, pride, envy and all the rest of my ugly sin and then on top of all that, love me, well then, how dare I do any less?  

If the Creator and Sustainer of the Universe could wash filthy feet, then what act of service for others could possibly be beneath me?  

If the Redeemer could love me at my worst and desire to have a relationship with me even when I'm indifferent or preoccupied (Oh Lord Jesus, forgive me!), then surely I need to willingly pursue and persist in loving those in my life who don't always reciprocate or respond.  

"Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins." (I Pet.4:8)  Amen!

"And now these three remain, faith, hope, and love.  But the greatest of these is love." (I Cor.13:13)

"Do everything in love." (I Cor. 16:14)  Yep, that about covers it!  

And by the way, love means action.  We can't just think it or feel it--we've got to show it.  With our words and with our deeds.  

Bingley, thanks for reminding me why I'm here.  Father, help us--by the power of Your Spirit that lives within us--to love.  

To God be the glory.

I.F. or F.T.?

      A new school year dawning...on an absolutely spectacular fall-like day, I might add.  We're down to two still at  home--a 7th grader and a senior higher.  We have no idea what this year may hold for us...but we know Who holds this year.  But, oh my, it's tempting to look ahead, isn't it?  What will happen if...how will we handle it if...what will we do if...what if...what if...what if?
     Can you, can anyone, ever know the answer to that question?  Of course not.  None of us has the foggiest idea even what tomorrow might bring.  So what's the point in asking unknowable, unanswerable, and unprofitable questions?  Seriously.  Who does that ever help?
     Here's what I know--those "if's"never help prepare us for the future.
     Those "if's" divert our focus from where it should be (hint: our Savior!  "...looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith" Heb.12:2).
     Those "if's" greatly diminish the strength we need for this day's challenges.
     Those "if's" inevitably give birth to fear.  (I once heard Beth Moore comment that the letters in the word "if" could stand for "I fear."  Yep.)
     And those "if's" rob the present moment of all it's joy and peace.  Is that any way to live?  Is that really how we want to run our race--nervous, jumpy, uncertain, and joyless?  No thank you.
     Here's what I'm thinking: those "if's" need to be banished!  And when they creep into our thoughts and into our vocabulary, how about we replace them with a simple phrase, like "faithfulness today."             'Cause here's the deal--God has called us to be faithful today.  Right where He's planted us.  To love the people He's placed in our paths today.  To do what He's called us to do today.  To trust Him, obey Him, and seek to bring Him glory with our lives, today.  To run the race set before us today as faithfully and fully as we know how ("let us run with endurance the race that is set before us" Heb.12:1).
     And to trust God that when tomorrow comes, He'll give us the strength, love, grace and wisdom to be faithful with tomorrow's challenges as well.  Faithfulness today.
     For those of us feeling sad or anxious about children growing up and moving away, here's what "faithfulness today" looks like: Let's stop worrying about what will happen when our babies graduate from high school and we're empty nesters.  They're still here now, aren't they?  Well then, love them, teach them, encourage them, care for them with everything you've got today...and trust that God will have different--but still wonderful and exciting plans--for you when they've flown the coop for college.
     Or if you're stuck in the trenches of seemingly endless diaper changing and exhausting, non-stop mothering of pre-schoolers, stop wishing today away in the quest for some imaginary future filled with time, sleep, relaxation, and applause for your work.  No!  God's given you today...the opportunity in this never-to-be-repeated moment to influence, shape, and love these little eternal souls, and to do it to His glory, with faithfulness today.
     Whether it's being a wife or husband, a parent or a child,  a sibling or a friend, a worker or a boss...do whatever God's called you to do with faithfulness today, entrusting the results and the future to Him.
     I love how Martin Luther once put it: "There are only two days on my calendar: this day and that day."
     This day, meaning the 24 hours right here before us.  The gift of this day that God has given us.             And that day, meaning that glorious day when Christ returns, and we all stand before Him face to face.  If we're faithful each day with this day, then we can anticipate that day with joy, peace, and excitement.  And if we're practicing faithfulness today, then we're running our race in such a way that one day, we'll hear those beautiful words from the lips of our Redeemer, "Well done, good and faithful servant...Enter into the joy of your Master." (Mt.25:21)
      No more "I.F"--"I fear."  Instead, it's "F.T."--"faithfulness today."  To God be the glory.
   

Remembering and rejoicing

     Two years ago this weekend, on the Friday before school started, around 5:00 in the afternoon, we got the phone call that changed everything.  The terrible news that Tessa, Grace, Madeleine, and Janie had been in a very serious car accident.
     It was a day much like today--very hot and humid--with all the frenzy associated with the start-up of school, activities, and fall.  All that busyness had crowded out any kind of thoughts about the ultimate issues of life and death.   About what really mattered to us.
     In fact, one moment forever remains frozen in my memory: Janie rushing out the door that morning to get a ride to the lake, shouting, "Bye, Mom!  I'm late!  And me, preoccupied on the telephone, simply waving goodbye and failing to say those words that I always said to my children when they were leaving the house, "I love you!  Salt and light make a difference!"  Later that night, while sitting in the ICU waiting room, and in those long days afterwards, I sadly pondered that seemingly insignificant moment...when I had missed the opportunity--perhaps for the last time--to tell my daughter I loved her.  How could I have failed to do and say that which was most important?  That was my greatest regret in those hard days and weeks.
     If you knew that this day, this hour would be your last chance to share with someone how much you love them, to give them a hug or an encouraging word, wouldn't you always pause to take the time to say it and show it...rather than busily remaining focused on a to-do list?  Oh how often we mistakenly choose the temporarily urgent over the eternally important!

     Our lives were rocked to the very core, as we were confronted with whether Janie would survive the night...and if she did, would she ever wake up or walk or talk or attend school or sing or even know us or anybody else?   Suddenly carpools, school supplies, broken washing machines, and multiple undone chores didn't matter a hill of beans.  How on earth could we have been so worried and frustrated about them before?
     No, we suddenly and shockingly had the gift of clarity--of who and what truly mattered.

       It was a long two weeks of waiting.  Waiting and praying her lungs would heal.  Waiting and praying her brain would heal.  Waiting and praying God would wake her up and enable her to regain consciousness.  Waiting and praying that in His mercy and grace, God would give us back our girl.

(One of many memorable moments--Russ and Creecy helping get down Janie's high fever--with wet towels and a bedpan "fan."  God gave the gift of laughter even in the ICU.)
      I won't go into all of it again, but God taught us so much in those days and weeks.  We had learned and now knew by experience, rather than just theoretically, that our God is forever faithful, gracious, and loving--even in the hardest, darkest of places.  And we discovered that when you hit rock bottom...He is deeper and greater still.  And though it was a painful, hard-won lesson, we learned that our Lord is sovereign; and if He chose to take Janie home to Himself or leave her in a wheelchair or hospital bed for the rest of her life, then our God would somehow, someway supply us all with the grace we'd need for each day, everyday.
      God uses pain, uncertainty, and waiting in our lives in such powerful, shaping ways, doesn't He?  C.S. Lewis says that "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pain.  It is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world."  It's so true.  Some things can only be learned in the dark.
      "I will give you the treasures of darkness and the hoards in secret places, that you may know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, who call you by your name." (Isa.45:3)  We would not trade for anything the treasures of darkness that the Lord gave us in those long days:  Drawing us closer to Him.  Teaching us dependence upon Him.  Bringing His Word alive to us as never before--His words seemingly breathed straight from His lips...warm, healing, strengthening.  Schooling us in the truly important (versus "urgent") need of choosing gratitude---and the incomparable blessings of peace and joy that such thankfulness brings.  Gratitude even for the smallest of gifts (our favorite nurse at night; the Starbucks in the hospital; dear family and friends; laughter--even in the ICU; hot tea; prayer; hymns; gifted doctors; home; sweet memories; the Word...)
     And so today, we simply remember and rejoice over God's amazing grace and forever faithfulness.  From the helicopter that flew Janie to Greenville to the ambulance that carried her to Chapel Hill--

     For the gloriously happy days after God, in His sovereign timing, finally said, "Now, I will return her back to you"--

 And that moment seared in our hearts when she and Tessa saw each other for the first time--

 To the happy Starbucks run in the lobby of the hospital--

 To that first rainy--but quietly joyful--football game a little over a month after the accident (who would have thought, or even dreamed, they would be able to go?  No one...except God)--

   To those painful but hilarious rehab walks on the greenway and on the Root track--complete with wheelchairs, walkers, crutches, and belts (Hilary is right--it took a village)--

     To an unforgettable reunion that Christmas with Johnny--the EMT who saved their lives at the scene of the accident--

      From grace to grace to grace.  What can we say but thank You, Father.
      I don't know what kind of hard, painful struggles you might be enduring this day, but this I do know--your God is able.
     Able to carry you through.  Able to reveal to you treasures in the darkness.  Able to bring ultimate good even out of the most difficult of circumstances.  Able to "do far more abundantly than all that [you] ask or think, according to the power at work within [you]." (Eph.3:20)
      If He can give sight to the blind...cause the lame to walk...walk on water...calm the fiercest storm with a word...forgive the vilest sinner with His blood...feed the hungry masses with a lad's snack...and raise the dead to new life...well, then, I think...no, I know that He can fully and faithfully carry you too. Not somehow, but triumphantly.
     "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)
     To God be the glory.

Change...fear...and faith

 

     Back in Raleigh...summer waning...frenzy of school beginning...children flying the nest...missing the mountains...saying a sad and reluctant farewell to summer's slower tempo...and time relentlessly marching on and on.
     Can you tell I really don't want this summer to end?  Boy, transitions are so hard, aren't they?  Even good transitions can prove challenging for many of us (at least for yours truly).  And that means we often resist and resent change--of any strip or color--because, well, change often hurts.  I've said it before, but I'm clearly a "status quo" kind of girl: let's keep life (and the people we love)  just the way it is.  Children not growing up and moving away.  Loved ones not getting sick and dying.  Jobs not being lost.  Steady as she goes, might be my motto.
     But you know what's just dawned on slow-learning me?  Behind my dislike of change and my desire to cling to the old and familiar is basically one thing: fear.  Plain old joy-robbing, peace-destroying, adventure-avoiding, and faith-denying fear.
     Fear of all the unknowns that lurk right around the corner.
     Fear of something harmful happening to our children when they're no longer within our eyeshot and control.
     Fear of losing my memory, my abilities, my usefulness (especially a fear for us stay-at-home moms as our children grow up).
     Fear of losing those we love.
     Oh fear wears so many terrible masks--
     Fear of not measuring up.  Fear of disappointing others.  Fear of failure...or even fear of success.  Fear of loss.  Fear of risk.  Fear of missed opportunities...and fear of taking those opportunities.
     Fear is a merciless thief and a relentless attacker.  Always on the lookout for that tiny opening, that smallest of vulnerabilities, and then moving in for the kill.
     And fear is from the pit of hell.  Smells like smoke.
     Fear really underlies my sorrow at letting go of the past and embracing the future.  Because here's the bottom line--either we trust that God's plans for our future and the future of those we love are ultimately good, pleasing and perfect...or we don't.
    We either trust in the ways and plans of the One who is both perfectly powerful and perfectly good...or we trust in our own cramped, myopic view of what we--fallen, selfish, sin-prone dust-people that we are--think will be best.
     It's either trust in the Great God Jehovah, Creator of the heavens and the earth...or trust in little, old me, myself, and I.
     One way leads to peace, joy, hope, and excitement over the future...the other to fretting, fussing, complaining, and fear, fear, fear over what's ahead.
     And we get to choose.  Every single day.  Every single one of us.  What will be it be?  Will we choose to live our lives constantly battling our resentment of change and our simmering fear of the future?  Or will we live our lives continually placing our trust in the One who holds us and the future in His nail-scarred, grace-filled, love-saturated hands?
     Just as with His ways and will, His hands are personal--knowing and loving each of us personally.  They are purposeful--planning and fulfilling in each of our lives that which is ultimately for our good and God's glory.  And they are oh so powerful.  Whatever is ahead, our God is able.  That's what His power means to us--He is able to forgive the worst sin.  Able to redeem the most hopeless situation.  Able to give peace in the most frightening of circumstances.  Able to resurrect the deadest of hopes.  Able to revive and restore the most embattled relationships.  
     He is able, able--able from the day we breathed our first breath on this earth...and able until the day He brings us home to heaven.  And if He is able, well then, we can relax and trust Him with whatever our future brings.
     "The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; You hold my lot. The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance. I bless the Lord who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me.  I have set the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken." (Ps.16:5-8)
     Fear, take a hike.  You've been permanently removed from your position and replaced by the Lord who is "always before me, because He is at my right hand."
     For all He has given in my past and for my chosen portion in the present, I say "Thank You, Father!"  And for the future, I say, "Yes, Lord!"   In You I place my trust.
     Anybody else out there need reminding today?   We might need to remind that thief fear a thousand times of day to get lost!...and to preach to ourselves a thousand times a day the truth of the One who is really there and really in control.  That's okay.  Just keep teaching and reminding yourself of the truth.
     Stop rehearsing your fears. Start reciting your faith.  Your faith in the Almighty who is not just with you and for you, but is before you, behind you, beside you, and inside you.

  A new day is dawning.  Time to be grateful for the past...faithful in the present...and hopeful for the future.
     For our God is already there; He is Almighty; and He is always able.
     Thank You, Lord Jesus.
     To God be the glory.