The dressing room is private, but not sound proof. The bantering between clothes changers and those who waited for them added an element of recreation to my dress hunting mission. A young and playful voice spoke from the room next to me, ping-ponging questions and comments to "Grammy" and, I'm guessing, a younger cousin seated on a bench close by. Grammy sounded fun and her opinions sought and valued. Without seeing the voice of my fitting room neighbor, her tone and topics conjured up an older teen, positive and teasing, and I smiled at her kind and clever sense of humor.
A few stalls farther away from me another voice caught my attention. This I surmised to be an older woman. She was quick to judge appearances, too this, or not enough that and this makes me look like___fill in the blank. She gave commands to whoever was outside her door to fetch another size or to make sure not to get another one of those.
How our words give us away, I reflected, as I quietly left my changing session. If I would have given a running account of my thoughts as I tugged on tight bodices and wiggled through unzipped crevices, what would you have surmised about me?
Deep inside the little book of Ephesians, there's a verse that arrests my attention.
"Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen." Eph. 4:29.
Avoiding unwholesome, I might have under control most of the time, but what about helpful for building up, tailor made to their needs and giving them a gift with my delivery of words? It happens most when I listen mostly, hearing their needs and caring, wanting to extend kindness.
Reading the gospels and concentrating just on the words Jesus spoke and how and when he said them, would be a speech course worth signing up. As I read the story of Christ's death and resurrection this weekend, I was impressed by the kindness in his words to his mother and to John as he hung in agony on the cross. He tells a dear friend to care for his widowed mother. My mother heart feels the tenderness Mary must have experienced as she heard those words. In the throes of grief, Jesus' words would have been a priceless gift to her.
Simon Peter knew the depths of regret and self loathing as he cursed and renounced, Jesus, the Master and Friend, he loved dearly. Fear had gripped him in the moment. We sorrow with him. There are no words of rebuke from Jesus, yet there must have been a wondering, and awkwardness in Peter 's heart as he sees Jesus after his resurrection. He understood forgiveness or he would not have stayed with the group of believers. His sin could have driven him to despair and hopelessness. But Peter grieves, yet counts on grace for himself and from the other disciples.
Later, on the shore, the risen Lord asks three times for Peter to respond to him with a declaration of love, each time assuring Peter of how he is needed and the place where he belongs in Christ's kingdom. Peter's wound of failure is still tender, and Peter is upset that Jesus pushes against the hurt. Maybe Peter wanted to forget the past. He knew he loved Jesus; why did Jesus keep asking? Perhaps Jesus was insulating Peter from future doubt about how things stood between them. Or doubt that he was good enough to serve in the Kingdom. Peter's repeated confession of love brought things to the open. Resolutions that bring our hearts to restoration and peace are harder to question later on, if they have been spoken aloud and others have heard. I don't know for sure what Jesus was accomplishing in that encounter, but that he singled Peter out and spoke so personally of their relationship and spoke prophetically to him the same number of times as Peter had denied him, affirms again that Jesus cares deeply and speaks what is necessary and beneficial for us to hear.
Do you need to know Jesus cares about how things are between you? He freely forgives your sins, sees your longing to be fully restored and wants to clear the air with you, so you don't need to wonder if he loves you less or if you love him less. Confess your love for him, openly. His love never ends and his good purposes for you won't be thwarted. That's how complete his forgiveness is.
Father, teach me more about your love. May my speech reflect our love for each other. Teach me what to say and how to say it. Let me build others up and give gifts of tenderness and kindness from my tongue. When I grieve you, help me to recognize and confess my sin. I will declare my love for you, and I pray you let nothing stand between us.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Monday, March 25, 2013
Storeroom Treasures
He said to them, “Therefore every teacher of the law who has become a
disciple in the kingdom of heaven is like the owner of a house who
brings out of his storeroom new treasures as well as old.”
Matthew 13:51-53Old meets new, or old alongside new, or old and new together could have been a title to my week. The chat with my elderly aunt on the phone, who was convalescing from a broken pelvis, was followed up with a text message I sent to her sister, another older aunt, to see how she was doing. These two precious relatives remind me of my mother who is no longer living. A while later I talk to my dad who is remarried, giving me a new status of stepdaughter.
A hankering for an ice cream dessert I learned to make in college, had me buying pistachio pudding and vanilla ice cream. Anyone else remember this 70s recipe? After mixing the dry pudding mix with the softened ice cream and a half a cup of milk, this soft serve consistency is swiggled over ritz cracker crumbs enriched with nuts and butter, then a few reserved crumbs sprinkled over the top. The clerk at Krogers remembered this oldie, but goodie, as we discussed ways to use pistachio pudding.
Kevin and I are still learning new dance steps; had a chance to try them out at our first ball recently. Test driving the Civic I mentioned before in another post, led to a new vehicle occupying our driveway. But another glimpse of life in our house would show us wiping and drying dishes by the kitchen sink while the dishwasher sits idle close by. The 30s something refrigerator hums faithfully from across the room.
My brother came by for a visit last week. I had to make him our favorite childhood meal and we kept true to family tradition by playing a game of Scrabble. I hauled old heirloom photos out of the storeroom so we could cut up a few poses to glue on a handmade card to send to the invalid aunt. Before you gasp in horror at destroying such old treasures, I will tell you they have been scanned and digitized, making it much easier to store and manage them. However, I have not succumbed to trashing them. They only sit in an upstairs wastebasket waiting for that fateful day when my minimalist resolve will take effect. The day is hastening closer every time I hear my mother-in-law express anxiety about what to do with her old photos. No offspring want them, they take up space in the villa my parents-in-law have downsized to, and have become a bane to their owner who lacks the energy to tackle organizing them.
The Scrabble game board spreads across the well -worn oak, Daddy-made, dining room table again. This time my son has brought his new girlfriend home for the first time and wants to introduce her to one of the things we do best, fiercely compete to win! He counts on her college English major to qualify her for the brutal combat. Their new love is counted among the recent treasures in the storeroom.
Bible study every week reminds me of the timelessness of God's Word. As we handle these treasures, inspecting, appraising and touching them with our minds and hearts we marvel at their relevancy to our lives now, today. Whether the insights we receive are brand new, or gems we're again admiring, the storeroom holds an endless supply of wisdom, righteousness and truth.
Whether your storeroom has a long history or you've just recently started filling it, let's bring those treasures out and give them away---the stories of God's faithfulness, the answers to prayer, the way his Word accomplishes good in our lives and defeats our enemies, or the wisdom we gain by obeying his Word that makes life enjoyable and rewarding.
Thank you, Father, for your Word. What an anchor for our lives! How shallow we are if we're not grounded in its truth! How vulnerable we'd be to the swaying winds of doctrine, or to shifting positions according to popular voices around us. Your mercies are new every morning. Great is your faithfulness!
Sunday, March 10, 2013
How Will They Know Us?
Cozied inside the silver Civic, my husband and I removed the For Sale signs from the window and maneuvered out of the parking lot for a test drive. We slid buttons, turned knobs, opened compartments and flipped visors. Would this become our next 'new' used car?
I pushed all the preselected radio set buttons and found myself trying to analyze the owner's interests by the stations he had selected. It appeared he liked public radio, pop music, and classical symphonies. I found myself wanting to judge his spiritual condition by what his fingertips weren't choosing as preferred stations. Like the numerous Christian listening choices we have available in our area. How unfair of me and definitely not conclusive!
Several occasions recently have made me wonder, though, about how we can identify other believers. While I can't determine someone's salvation by the radio he listens to, it might be a clue that a person is interested or familiar with Christianity if Casting Crowns or Third Day boomed forth after a button tap.
In Bible study this week, the question came up as to what we look for as clues that someone is a believer. One lady said kindness, or the light shining from their faces. Another thought speech gave it away. "Wouldn't it be great if there was some sign only believers could see and communicate to each other?", the women on my left voiced. It happened in the Left Behind book series, when the end time mark of the beast meant believers had to know who was on the same side in order to keep from death or persecution.
Christian traditions says that early believers used the sign of the fish to secretly identify each other.
"Greeks, Romans, and many other pagans used the fish symbol before Christians. Hence the fish, unlike, say, the cross, attracted little suspicion, making it a perfect secret symbol for persecuted believers. When threatened by Romans in the first centuries after Christ, Christians used the fish to mark meeting places and tombs, or to distinguish friends from foes. According to one ancient story, when a Christian met a stranger in the road, the Christian sometimes drew one arc of the simple fish outline in the dirt. If the stranger drew the other arc, both believers knew they were in good company. Current bumper-sticker and business-card uses of the fish hearken back to this practice."
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ch/asktheexpert/oct26.html
What about me? How long would it take for a stranger who knew and loved Jesus to know that I loved him to? Depending on the day, it might be covered up pretty good. Instead of a serene face, I might look worried or more often distracted. My words might be sharp rather than graceful when someone overcharges me, is rude or refuses to give me proper customer service. I might be exhausted and just not feel like being available to the people I encounter in public. I know someone (in fact I know her well) who was in such a hurry the other day that she ducked into a different store isle when she saw a friend in the distance just so she could avoid any conversation.
In the bank yesterday, a few people were throwing speech back and forth to each other as we waited in line. An elderly gentleman who we had no difficulty hearing, was sharing freely about how he suspected the unwelcome weather was a test from God to help us learn patience. He went on to proclaim God's work with him and true things about who God was..kind of generally to no one in particular, but not obnoxiously, just boldly. Several nodded their heads his direction and because he was directly behind me, I added some amens and affirmed his words to let him know I agreed and was listening. It wasn't long before his positive statements became personal expressions of hope as he told me his longing to see his wayward son come back to the faith. This father's heart was heavy and his voice broke and his eyes teared as he shared. But he was praying and believing God to intervene. Our turns were next at the counter, and when I was done I passed him, gently patted his arm and encouraged him not to give up. I knew he wouldn't, and I added a prayer for the son as I headed to my car.
Isn't it refreshing to hear someone unabashedly, shamelessly letting his Christianity show? It was almost uncomfortable for me at first; what will everyone around us think? Is this guy off his rocker? Is what he's saying the truth? Isn't he worried about everyone knowing about his private life? I'm so glad I listened and showed him sympathy. For those few minutes I jumped in the ring with him, witnessed his fighting tactics and tenacity and was able to cheer him on, and hopefully pull a few punches to our common enemy myself.
Jesus said the world will know we love him when we love each other. We belong to a great big family of much diversity and often no outward resemblance. Yet, we have our Daddy's heart and his eyes of love and his accent that should give us away as his children. We were born into this family and we share the same inheritance.
Whether, then, I'm buying a car, shopping or banking or whatever I do, I want to act and speak like my Daddy's child. Even in the times when self squelches Spirit, I can ask forgiveness not just from the Father, but from those I've wronged. That's a birthmark that stands out!
I am so grateful that you have accepted me into your family, Father. Help me love all my brothers and sisters as you love us. Help us to boldly bare your insignia so the world may see and want to belong to you, too.
This song will take you back, but it's words never grow old.
They'll Know We are Christians by Our Love
I pushed all the preselected radio set buttons and found myself trying to analyze the owner's interests by the stations he had selected. It appeared he liked public radio, pop music, and classical symphonies. I found myself wanting to judge his spiritual condition by what his fingertips weren't choosing as preferred stations. Like the numerous Christian listening choices we have available in our area. How unfair of me and definitely not conclusive!
Several occasions recently have made me wonder, though, about how we can identify other believers. While I can't determine someone's salvation by the radio he listens to, it might be a clue that a person is interested or familiar with Christianity if Casting Crowns or Third Day boomed forth after a button tap.
In Bible study this week, the question came up as to what we look for as clues that someone is a believer. One lady said kindness, or the light shining from their faces. Another thought speech gave it away. "Wouldn't it be great if there was some sign only believers could see and communicate to each other?", the women on my left voiced. It happened in the Left Behind book series, when the end time mark of the beast meant believers had to know who was on the same side in order to keep from death or persecution.
Christian traditions says that early believers used the sign of the fish to secretly identify each other.
"Greeks, Romans, and many other pagans used the fish symbol before Christians. Hence the fish, unlike, say, the cross, attracted little suspicion, making it a perfect secret symbol for persecuted believers. When threatened by Romans in the first centuries after Christ, Christians used the fish to mark meeting places and tombs, or to distinguish friends from foes. According to one ancient story, when a Christian met a stranger in the road, the Christian sometimes drew one arc of the simple fish outline in the dirt. If the stranger drew the other arc, both believers knew they were in good company. Current bumper-sticker and business-card uses of the fish hearken back to this practice."
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ch/asktheexpert/oct26.html
What about me? How long would it take for a stranger who knew and loved Jesus to know that I loved him to? Depending on the day, it might be covered up pretty good. Instead of a serene face, I might look worried or more often distracted. My words might be sharp rather than graceful when someone overcharges me, is rude or refuses to give me proper customer service. I might be exhausted and just not feel like being available to the people I encounter in public. I know someone (in fact I know her well) who was in such a hurry the other day that she ducked into a different store isle when she saw a friend in the distance just so she could avoid any conversation.
In the bank yesterday, a few people were throwing speech back and forth to each other as we waited in line. An elderly gentleman who we had no difficulty hearing, was sharing freely about how he suspected the unwelcome weather was a test from God to help us learn patience. He went on to proclaim God's work with him and true things about who God was..kind of generally to no one in particular, but not obnoxiously, just boldly. Several nodded their heads his direction and because he was directly behind me, I added some amens and affirmed his words to let him know I agreed and was listening. It wasn't long before his positive statements became personal expressions of hope as he told me his longing to see his wayward son come back to the faith. This father's heart was heavy and his voice broke and his eyes teared as he shared. But he was praying and believing God to intervene. Our turns were next at the counter, and when I was done I passed him, gently patted his arm and encouraged him not to give up. I knew he wouldn't, and I added a prayer for the son as I headed to my car.
Isn't it refreshing to hear someone unabashedly, shamelessly letting his Christianity show? It was almost uncomfortable for me at first; what will everyone around us think? Is this guy off his rocker? Is what he's saying the truth? Isn't he worried about everyone knowing about his private life? I'm so glad I listened and showed him sympathy. For those few minutes I jumped in the ring with him, witnessed his fighting tactics and tenacity and was able to cheer him on, and hopefully pull a few punches to our common enemy myself.
Jesus said the world will know we love him when we love each other. We belong to a great big family of much diversity and often no outward resemblance. Yet, we have our Daddy's heart and his eyes of love and his accent that should give us away as his children. We were born into this family and we share the same inheritance.
Whether, then, I'm buying a car, shopping or banking or whatever I do, I want to act and speak like my Daddy's child. Even in the times when self squelches Spirit, I can ask forgiveness not just from the Father, but from those I've wronged. That's a birthmark that stands out!
I am so grateful that you have accepted me into your family, Father. Help me love all my brothers and sisters as you love us. Help us to boldly bare your insignia so the world may see and want to belong to you, too.
This song will take you back, but it's words never grow old.
They'll Know We are Christians by Our Love
Sunday, March 3, 2013
What's in Your Suitcase?
I wonder if the airport's stern-faced security scanner guards picked up any clues from my luggage as to where I was headed. Did they see the slither-down-the-wall globs hiding among the underwear? Or the coloring book tucked between my sweatpants and pajama bottoms? Maybe the two different sized ziplok bags were a hint. Oh, surely they would have known if they would have read the directions for making water bottle lava lamps. And that new box of Uno cards would have been a dead give-away.
All packed up and loaded with love, I jumbo jetted my way to two precious boys who call me Nana. I arrived after their tousled heads were slumbering for the night, but I couldn't wait for morning to see them; I had to peek in on their angelic sleep poses and kiss their dreamy faces.
Ian shared his bedroom with me. I on his bed and he camping out on the floor during my stay. His younger brother Dominic woke up too early in the morning to be a good roommate choice and I thanked my daughter for her wisdom in deciding my lodging arrangements. The following three days flew by as I soaked up Nana time.
We colored and stenciled. Then drove trucks and cars on imaginary highways where no road rules applied and traveling between the library and post office were only a foot apart on the colorful rug village. Dominic and I hid in closets or behind doors while Ian counted haphazardly to the right number and then came to find us. Some how monster truck apps popped up among the word games and weather apps on my tablet. My exercise walk stepped up a notch as I pulled the wagon carrying Dominic behind me. Ian sailed by us on his bike, knowing only one speed-FAST.
The ziplok bags aided our ice-cream making and the lava lamps were definitely a hit. (See here for the recipes.) Ian caught on to Uno quickly and I lost track of how many games I endur...,or rather we played.:) Win or lose he was set to play again.
We bundled up one day in sweatshirts and hats and drove to the beach so Nana could breathe in the salty air, feel the white sand between her toes and relish the sound of surf. Although the water was too cold to even wade in, we welcomed the sun's cheeriness and sought it's warmth with upturned faces. I prayed that someday I could live close to a place where sand meets ocean. It's beauty will always allure me.
Mommy and Dominic
Ian
Bedtime ritual included stories, songs and a family hug. Dad was on his second time around of reading the Bible story book and Ian knew what the story would be about, listening with interest. The stories are being passed down again, the same ones I heard in the rocking chair with my dad and the same adventures I read to Ian and Dominic's mom and her siblings. His-story, where faith starts and hearts are imprinted with the unchanging Truth. Where the God of creation makes himself known to the ones he created, so they can see his faithfulness, grace and love from the very beginning and believe in him and his gift of salvation.
I'm so thankful God created family. How hard the enemy works to destroy this precious unit. Family is the embodiment of intimate relationships, beginning with husband and wife, and becomes the container for training his children in the way they should go. But none need be left out, even if this intended haven failed, was torn apart or in dysfunction. God redeems, restores, adopts, makes up for and heals so there are no homeless in his spiritual family. In fact scars are marks of valor and weaknesses are badges that boast of the Father's grace and mercy to make good out of what was maimed or discarded as hopeless.
I left my grandsons with a lighter suitcase, but a fuller heart of thanksgiving, joy and memories. Those airport guards saw only dirty underwear, sandy flip flops and emptier ounces of toiletries this time through the scanner. But if they were paying attention they would have noticed the addition of a foam picture frame decorated with hearts and bows that held two handsome faces of grandsons snuggled flat for safe keeping inside my tablet case and the date balls my daughter created and stuck in a baggie for my journey home.
Yes, indeed, what's in a suitcase holds stories coming or going. May any packing you do be filled with everything good.
All packed up and loaded with love, I jumbo jetted my way to two precious boys who call me Nana. I arrived after their tousled heads were slumbering for the night, but I couldn't wait for morning to see them; I had to peek in on their angelic sleep poses and kiss their dreamy faces.
Ian shared his bedroom with me. I on his bed and he camping out on the floor during my stay. His younger brother Dominic woke up too early in the morning to be a good roommate choice and I thanked my daughter for her wisdom in deciding my lodging arrangements. The following three days flew by as I soaked up Nana time.
We colored and stenciled. Then drove trucks and cars on imaginary highways where no road rules applied and traveling between the library and post office were only a foot apart on the colorful rug village. Dominic and I hid in closets or behind doors while Ian counted haphazardly to the right number and then came to find us. Some how monster truck apps popped up among the word games and weather apps on my tablet. My exercise walk stepped up a notch as I pulled the wagon carrying Dominic behind me. Ian sailed by us on his bike, knowing only one speed-FAST.
The ziplok bags aided our ice-cream making and the lava lamps were definitely a hit. (See here for the recipes.) Ian caught on to Uno quickly and I lost track of how many games I endur...,or rather we played.:) Win or lose he was set to play again.
We bundled up one day in sweatshirts and hats and drove to the beach so Nana could breathe in the salty air, feel the white sand between her toes and relish the sound of surf. Although the water was too cold to even wade in, we welcomed the sun's cheeriness and sought it's warmth with upturned faces. I prayed that someday I could live close to a place where sand meets ocean. It's beauty will always allure me.
Bedtime ritual included stories, songs and a family hug. Dad was on his second time around of reading the Bible story book and Ian knew what the story would be about, listening with interest. The stories are being passed down again, the same ones I heard in the rocking chair with my dad and the same adventures I read to Ian and Dominic's mom and her siblings. His-story, where faith starts and hearts are imprinted with the unchanging Truth. Where the God of creation makes himself known to the ones he created, so they can see his faithfulness, grace and love from the very beginning and believe in him and his gift of salvation.
I'm so thankful God created family. How hard the enemy works to destroy this precious unit. Family is the embodiment of intimate relationships, beginning with husband and wife, and becomes the container for training his children in the way they should go. But none need be left out, even if this intended haven failed, was torn apart or in dysfunction. God redeems, restores, adopts, makes up for and heals so there are no homeless in his spiritual family. In fact scars are marks of valor and weaknesses are badges that boast of the Father's grace and mercy to make good out of what was maimed or discarded as hopeless.
I left my grandsons with a lighter suitcase, but a fuller heart of thanksgiving, joy and memories. Those airport guards saw only dirty underwear, sandy flip flops and emptier ounces of toiletries this time through the scanner. But if they were paying attention they would have noticed the addition of a foam picture frame decorated with hearts and bows that held two handsome faces of grandsons snuggled flat for safe keeping inside my tablet case and the date balls my daughter created and stuck in a baggie for my journey home.
Yes, indeed, what's in a suitcase holds stories coming or going. May any packing you do be filled with everything good.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
What Makes You Cry?
Tears happen. Whether from joy, sadness, or frustration, and at times unexplained or unexpected, these salty droplets randomly punctuate my emotions.
During church today when we listened to a video clip from Frank Peretti's testimony, I felt them.
--compassion for those bullied and ridiculed
As my husband and I circled the living room our feet moving in the Texas Ten step dance, my eyes burned with those familiar pre-tear sensations. Our bodies were moving in sync, it felt so good and our practice had not been in vain.
--kudos for accomplishing something that required effort
I prayed for insight for those who seem to have let "pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God" cloud their thinking. My spirit longs for those close to me to see truth and understand the love and grace of their God, and how he yearns for relationship with them. Somehow intense prayer turns on my tear ducts.
--longing for change and better things for someone else
The tear switch may be flipped to on when reading a book. Miraculous Movements stirred up the well as I read of many Muslims being personally visited by our Lord through visions and dreams. The workers who are discipling them are so passionate in their mission and full of love for the ones they work among.
--a craving to see God work in and through me and in those I encounter
I woke up several mornings lately feeling weary, anxious and weak. I know where my strength resides and my curling up into the Father's presence for more of his grace and enabling was accompanied by teary cries for help. In these moments, text messages via Scripture give me hope and make his presence real. When the words come to my mind automatically from previous meditation or memorization, the Spirit's whispers make me cry even more.
--vulnerability, anxiousness and worry
--the sweet comfort of the Holy Spirit
While writing this post I came across this blog entry by John Piper.
John Piper wakes up sometimes with a 'fragile' morning syndrome! Just realizing that I'm not alone and that others experience similar things, brings comfort and encouragement, and yes, tears. :)
--the sweet comfort of the Holy Spirit through others
In the course of running some errands in a bustling morning of activity, I paused to listen to a breaking heart. Her marriage was tearing apart. She was in the midst of making hard decisions and feeling alone. She wept in pain, and my eyes watered sympathetically as I prayed for her.
--the ability to feel and care for others and to be about my Father's business
OK, I'll say it. There are times my eyes burn when I say our national pledge of allegiance. I am one voice among a crowd of people who all share in the abundance of a prospering, peaceful country. (I didn't say perfect, and I'm not in denial about the sins and godlessness of our times) We may not have much else in common, but we know these same words and we share this piece of the world together.
--gratefulness for the good things we have and the brief moment of unity I feel with my fellow citizens
I cry when hurtful words are hurled at me. Sometimes when a friend is insensitive. When I know I've done wrong and am sorry. When the day feels overwhelming and I just want to stop and relax. When rejection makes me feel worthless and unwanted.
When I don't get my way? Ummm...I can't say it hasn't happened.
These salty companions bring release; they are the bridge that takes me from emotion to clearer thinking, to a calm place once again, to the Father's presence where all pretenses melt away and everything is uncovered and laid bare. Oh, what a privilege to be known and loved like that!
So what makes you cry? Do you let the tears bring you to His presence?
"If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." James 1:5.
That covers any reason for tears. That and his never failing love.
During church today when we listened to a video clip from Frank Peretti's testimony, I felt them.
--compassion for those bullied and ridiculed
As my husband and I circled the living room our feet moving in the Texas Ten step dance, my eyes burned with those familiar pre-tear sensations. Our bodies were moving in sync, it felt so good and our practice had not been in vain.
--kudos for accomplishing something that required effort
I prayed for insight for those who seem to have let "pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God" cloud their thinking. My spirit longs for those close to me to see truth and understand the love and grace of their God, and how he yearns for relationship with them. Somehow intense prayer turns on my tear ducts.
--longing for change and better things for someone else
The tear switch may be flipped to on when reading a book. Miraculous Movements stirred up the well as I read of many Muslims being personally visited by our Lord through visions and dreams. The workers who are discipling them are so passionate in their mission and full of love for the ones they work among.
--a craving to see God work in and through me and in those I encounter
I woke up several mornings lately feeling weary, anxious and weak. I know where my strength resides and my curling up into the Father's presence for more of his grace and enabling was accompanied by teary cries for help. In these moments, text messages via Scripture give me hope and make his presence real. When the words come to my mind automatically from previous meditation or memorization, the Spirit's whispers make me cry even more.
--vulnerability, anxiousness and worry
--the sweet comfort of the Holy Spirit
While writing this post I came across this blog entry by John Piper.
John Piper wakes up sometimes with a 'fragile' morning syndrome! Just realizing that I'm not alone and that others experience similar things, brings comfort and encouragement, and yes, tears. :)
--the sweet comfort of the Holy Spirit through others
In the course of running some errands in a bustling morning of activity, I paused to listen to a breaking heart. Her marriage was tearing apart. She was in the midst of making hard decisions and feeling alone. She wept in pain, and my eyes watered sympathetically as I prayed for her.
--the ability to feel and care for others and to be about my Father's business
OK, I'll say it. There are times my eyes burn when I say our national pledge of allegiance. I am one voice among a crowd of people who all share in the abundance of a prospering, peaceful country. (I didn't say perfect, and I'm not in denial about the sins and godlessness of our times) We may not have much else in common, but we know these same words and we share this piece of the world together.
--gratefulness for the good things we have and the brief moment of unity I feel with my fellow citizens
I cry when hurtful words are hurled at me. Sometimes when a friend is insensitive. When I know I've done wrong and am sorry. When the day feels overwhelming and I just want to stop and relax. When rejection makes me feel worthless and unwanted.
When I don't get my way? Ummm...I can't say it hasn't happened.
These salty companions bring release; they are the bridge that takes me from emotion to clearer thinking, to a calm place once again, to the Father's presence where all pretenses melt away and everything is uncovered and laid bare. Oh, what a privilege to be known and loved like that!
So what makes you cry? Do you let the tears bring you to His presence?
"If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." James 1:5.
That covers any reason for tears. That and his never failing love.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Equipped With All We Need
Our study on Hebrews is almost finished. The last verse ends with "Grace be with you all."
In this study we observed the heart of an author who truly cares for the ones he is addressing. The listeners are urged to keep their faith strong, to not let anything they have heard or been taught slip away and to keep their eyes focused on Jesus. They are told to run with perseverance the race marked out for them and are reminded of the faith of great saints from their history. The warnings and advice are given with intensity, yet much is made of God's provision for them in Jesus and how Jesus has made it possible to go boldly into God's presence without fear to make their requests known to him. In Hebrews we learn of a future that far surpasses this life-- a heavenly city of joyful angels, God's redeemed people made perfect, face- to- face time with our Father God and Jesus Christ, and things that are too awesome to describe with human words.
I am so thankful when the scriptures I focus on have much relevance for the specific day I face. Verses 20 and 21 of chapter 13 were those kind of words for me this week.
"May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen."
I will be equipped with everything good for doing his will. So, for instance, strength will be there when I feel weak, words will be given when he nudges me to speak of Kingdom things and besides that he'll be working in me what pleases him. While I'm doing his will, equipped with all I need, he keeps his transformation work going inside me. The titles of our Equipper and Remodeler are the God of peace and the Great Shepherd. Do you feel the grace being with you? (Grace be with you all)
An object lesson this week illustrated the importance of the one behind the scenes keeping watch and transforming things to keep them pleasing. I received a call one evening from a retailer online who wanted to know if I had made a purchase for a certain amount of money a few days prior. I did not remember that transaction and it was agreed that someone had stolen my credit card number. The order did not get charged to me and it was canceled. I asked what had raised the red flag to cause them to call me. There were things that had not looked right about the transaction, maybe missing information or that the purchase didn't fit my history and profile. I had to follow through with my card company and get a new card.
I had two reactions to that incident. One, I was pretty sure I knew when the number had been stolen and I felt violated and taken advantage of. Secondly, I sensed a lot of gratitude that I had been notifiied and relieved of any unwarranted expenses. I also realized how good it feels to have someone cover your back like that and to know that the system of protection and maintenance of accounts works.
I praise you, Father, that you always keep me as the apple of your eye and hide me under the shadow of your wing. You work to make things turn out for good, and you delight in transforming me to look more like Jesus. I believe that you have provided me with everything good for doing your will. Help me to use what you've provided and never worry that it won't be enough or use some substitute instead because it's more familiar to me. I am so blessed to be your child and to know your wonderful grace and love to me ALL the TIME! Thank you!
In this study we observed the heart of an author who truly cares for the ones he is addressing. The listeners are urged to keep their faith strong, to not let anything they have heard or been taught slip away and to keep their eyes focused on Jesus. They are told to run with perseverance the race marked out for them and are reminded of the faith of great saints from their history. The warnings and advice are given with intensity, yet much is made of God's provision for them in Jesus and how Jesus has made it possible to go boldly into God's presence without fear to make their requests known to him. In Hebrews we learn of a future that far surpasses this life-- a heavenly city of joyful angels, God's redeemed people made perfect, face- to- face time with our Father God and Jesus Christ, and things that are too awesome to describe with human words.
I am so thankful when the scriptures I focus on have much relevance for the specific day I face. Verses 20 and 21 of chapter 13 were those kind of words for me this week.
"May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen."
I will be equipped with everything good for doing his will. So, for instance, strength will be there when I feel weak, words will be given when he nudges me to speak of Kingdom things and besides that he'll be working in me what pleases him. While I'm doing his will, equipped with all I need, he keeps his transformation work going inside me. The titles of our Equipper and Remodeler are the God of peace and the Great Shepherd. Do you feel the grace being with you? (Grace be with you all)
An object lesson this week illustrated the importance of the one behind the scenes keeping watch and transforming things to keep them pleasing. I received a call one evening from a retailer online who wanted to know if I had made a purchase for a certain amount of money a few days prior. I did not remember that transaction and it was agreed that someone had stolen my credit card number. The order did not get charged to me and it was canceled. I asked what had raised the red flag to cause them to call me. There were things that had not looked right about the transaction, maybe missing information or that the purchase didn't fit my history and profile. I had to follow through with my card company and get a new card.
I had two reactions to that incident. One, I was pretty sure I knew when the number had been stolen and I felt violated and taken advantage of. Secondly, I sensed a lot of gratitude that I had been notifiied and relieved of any unwarranted expenses. I also realized how good it feels to have someone cover your back like that and to know that the system of protection and maintenance of accounts works.
I praise you, Father, that you always keep me as the apple of your eye and hide me under the shadow of your wing. You work to make things turn out for good, and you delight in transforming me to look more like Jesus. I believe that you have provided me with everything good for doing your will. Help me to use what you've provided and never worry that it won't be enough or use some substitute instead because it's more familiar to me. I am so blessed to be your child and to know your wonderful grace and love to me ALL the TIME! Thank you!
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Rewards After Peas and Before Bed
Moist chocolate cakiness clumped to my fingers like fudgy glue. Licking them off would only attract a thicker coating of the gooey goodness as I held the frozen treat to my mouth again. The combination of the soft outer layers of chocolate with the cold hard vanilla ice cream inside made this sandwich my favorite summertime reward.
Earlier in the day, I and my siblings had opened pea pods methodically from the bucketfuls my mother kept bringing in from the garden. The green balls filled the bowl in my lap slower than coins mounded in my piggy bank. The cool morning quickly turned into a heat monster that spewed muggy droplets of humidity over every inch of my body, trapping the moistness in the pockets where elbows folded and behind bent knee caps. Fans' breath equaled little more effect than a toddler trying to blow out a birthday candle. After hours of shelling and my thumb nails turning green, the last pod was popped and our work was finished.
Hopping on bikes we pedaled uphill to the corner grocers. The wooden floors creaked as we stepped inside. Candy jars lined the long counter and the air smelled of both licorice and vinegar from pickles bouncing in brine in barrels on the floor. My dime was spent on the one treat I had salivated for all day; dreaming of it's goodness had sustained me through aching muscles and boring hours of unwrapping homegrown garden bounty.
My clammy skin goose-bumped as the arctic bites met my hot throat. In this moment I was satisfied and happy.
Rewards are like that. They come after completed tasks that require work and endurance. Whether they are promised and anticipated or given as surprises, we feel compensated and grateful.
I've been noticing a pattern related to my bedtime routine. I may feel touches of exhaustion when I get home from work. Then lethargy makes it's attack after supper when my belly is full and I begin to relax. Whatever the evening holds, a church meeting, bills to pay, or laundry to fold, sleep is prohibited until the bed covers are turned down and I stretch out on the comfy mattress. However, no matter how tired or yawn prone I've been, I find myself turning on the tablet to check Facebook, or reading some mail I've been wanting to catch up on, or texting a family member, or listening to the news on TV. This behavior baffles my husband who crawls into bed before me and is often snoring comfortably before I have finished brushing my teeth.
Why would I jeopardize my best chance to ward off belly fat, by staying up past my bedtime? Or why do I trade my sleep for time to do something I enjoy? Is it worth feeling guilty that I haven't acted responsibly? Or worth feeling sleepy and tired the next morning? Apparently, yes, because I continue to put off turning out the light.This is something I've had many a conversation with my Father about.
As I bedtimed one night this week, I realized I wanted to reward myself with me time before the day ended. If the day and evening was full of work and obligations, I felt cheated out of time for myself. While many nights it was legitimate to enjoy those down moments, other times I was insisting on stealing the time.
God is so faithful to get through to us, to answer a prayer for wisdom and revelation. It was as though the Holy Spirit pulled out the lesson on rewards and I was listening. He reminded me of what he said to Abram in Genesis 15:1. "I am your shield, your very great reward." God also said he rewards those who diligently seek him. Then the Teacher said, "Hey, kid, where are you storing up treasure? ...it's obvious isn't it? the place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being." (Italics quoted from Matt. 6:21, Msg)
So if I end up being on the computer because that's the place I most want to be, against wisdom that says I need to be sleeping, or I'd rather be there than having a few last words with the Father or listening to His words from the Bible before I fall asleep, do I really consider him my reward? The Greatest Reward? Am I finding him more precious than life itself? More satisfying than ice cream sandwiches after working and sweating hard?
You are so good, Faithful One! To keep drawing me closer, to keep my eyes on the prize that can never be found in this world. Please keep teaching me how to enjoy this life, receiving it and the good things it offers, as gifts from you, while you remain my greatest reward and joy. I know that I am tempted to misspend my time. Time is also is a gift from you. May I do everything to your honor and glory, not because I should, or even because I feel guilty when I do my own thing, but because you are beyond comparison. The rewards and things you have in store for me are glorious and out of this world and the life I live in you is far above the pleasures I experience in earthly things. I'm yours always, and especially in the moments before I go to sleep. Love you so much, Abba!
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