Hungry for Blood

I hate mosquitoes.

Don't you? Look at that picture! It's enough to make your skin crawl.

This is a strange thought to have dancing in your brain first thing in the morning. Especially when I opened my eyes to a whitened world of snow-covered pine trees here in New England. Why am I even thinking about mozees?

Maybe it was a whining sound from somebody’s brakes outside, or a hissing from the furnace, but I woke up remembering how much they aggravated and annoyed us on a daily basis when we lived in the jungle for sixteen years. 

They are thirsty blood-hunters and blood-thirsty hunters. A nuisance when I was trying to sleep, hovering behind my elbows when I was trying to work, and landing on my ankles when I was trying to teach. Try as you might, you could never cover your entire body in that heat. Thank God, there were refreshing heaven-sent reprieves from their misery!

It wasn't just the annoyance of their stinging bites. In the tropical jungle, they infect you with malarial parasites and all who lived there struggled with repeated cycles of fevers, chills, vomiting and mind-splitting headaches that would last for three days. New chloraquine-resistant strains were breeding around us too, like the deadly cerebral version.

So, what is it about them? Mozees, so hungry for blood, relentlessly seeking a warm body on which to prey. Those pesky varmints march out in force no matter what the obstacles. In the jungle we would burn stinky coils, use lotions and sprays, and swat at them with little straw brooms, but nothing could deter the vicious band. Yes, mosquitoes teach a solid lesson in perseverance that could bolster any army.

Do I seek God with diligence, or do I easily get distracted and let little things derail or disrupt my pursuit of the Almighty?

One day it hit me, even mosquitoes were created with purpose. They could either drive us out of our minds, or drive us to God.  

Truth is, we need blood to survive physically, and a blood covering to ensure we live eternally. We need the shed blood of a sin-bearer in order to be forgiven.  

God said, the life is in the blood and without it there can be no forgiveness of sin. The whole message of the Bible makes this key point.

Without the blood of our sin-bearer, we will not survive the judgment seat of God on our own merits. We need the covering of a pure and worthy sacrifice. We need Christ, whose blood was shed on the cross of Calvary in our place in order to receive forgiveness before a holy and righteous God.

Thank God for His heaven-sent relief!

If you haven't found relief perhaps a better question would be, are you diligently seeking? Maybe mosquitoes are God's little reminders to the planet that we need blood to live, and we need to seek until we find it or we will not survive.

Uncomfortable Places or Thoughts on Chrysallis House

When I arrived at Chrysallis House to lead Bible study last night, the girls were all in lock-down and the study was canceled. “I thought someone in the office had called you,” Jim said apologetically, “but it looks like they didn’t.”

Well, my first reaction was, Lord knows I probably need the rest. (I had been sick and throwing up just a few hours earlier and thought it was all the more reason to keep pressing on. I was wondering if there was a spiritual battle involved even before I got there.) But it’s so sad when this happens.

I tried to press a little, offering to come in and at least pray with any who wanted to come, but the poor guy looked like he had been crying, actually. The decision was firm. He said they’ve gotten a lot of new girls and things have been extremely trying all afternoon. I could only imagine.

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What is it really like for them?

Here is a houseful of young girls whose lives have been turned upside down. They’ve been torn from the people they love, then sentenced to a life they can’t accept. Many of them come from tough backgrounds, neighborhoods and families. They’ve had to deal with more than their fair share of obstacles and environmental issues. Now they are confused, misplaced, and disoriented on top of everything else. They feel misunderstood and miserable. And some aren’t even out of the ninth grade.

Life adjustments, all these periods of transition, are probably the hardest thing to deal with. There is a giant disconnect, but we are created to seek connection. Even the tiniest negative molecules floating around in the cosmos seek to be attached to positives. Dating all the way back to Genesis, God said, “It is not good that man is alone.” Obviously, we are happiest when we have healthy and meaningful relationships. Yet, these girls are suddenly surrounded by strangers.

Some people thrive on change, but of course it makes a big difference if it is something you’ve chosen. A new house, a new job, a new relationship or a wild trip can be the very things that spice up an otherwise dull existence. Such adventures are usually couched in terms like novel, romantic, exotic or exciting--all considered perks.

However, when life just takes a sudden turn in an unexpected direction, whether through an accident, loss, a doctor’s report, or some court decision, it takes on a whole new meaning. We feel like life is spinning out of control.

Another aspect of the frustration comes from losing the autonomy that we are intended to strengthen as we mature. Decisions and rights are taken away. The girls are given strict rules and enforced regulations. They don’t choose what to eat, when to get up, or when it’s lights out at night. They can’t even go to the bathroom alone, and of course, they have to ask to go, like toddlers.

The incarcerated are quickly reduced to a number in a slot. It’s easy to feel like you’ve lost your whole identity. It is first name only. There can be no outside relationships. Everyone is clumped into a phase of sentencing, an assigned floor, and even assigned matching colors to wear. They can’t express themselves in any of the familiar clothes or customary styles. Second floor is red and third floor gets the blue smocks. The clothes are like hospital gowns, plain and simple, with Chinese black thongs and socks on their feet to complete the wardrobe. Of course, no extras either. No jewelry or personal effects, posters, or decorations. All that is stripped away.

When I come in, I’m dressed in normal street clothes and might have things like phone calls, email, traffic, and weather on my mind. None of this has affected their day whatsoever. They’ve just been shuffled from room to room. Their days are filled with a schedule of required classes, reviews, and mundane chores like mopping floors. Harder still, they’ve had staff “on their backs” every waking moment, guarding and firmly addressing every attitude, and every tone of voice.

Not only so, but they have privileges taken away, time and weekend passes denied accordingly. That really hurts. It is not uncommon to hear of one of the girls looking forward to a home visit for weeks, but after some last-minute flare up, to have it denied. It’s akin to telling a child that Christmas is canceled. Then comes anger and another onslaught of raw emotions to deal with.

I don’t mean to say that the staff is the enemy, but like everyone else, they have bad days too. They make mistakes and probably misjudge the girls at one time or another. I’m sure they mean well, but it’s a difficult job trying to keep order and peace in such a house of conflict.

Bottom line, it can feel like a pressure cooker to the girls. All they want is to go home! They want to have their lives back. They crave freedom. Many are missing boyfriends or little sisters. Most of them talk about their moms. Prayer requests usually reflect their burdens for the people they miss at home. They pray for safety and health for moms and grandmoms more than any other thing. They pray for brothers and dads in jail and for help with drugs and alcohol dependencies.

In our brief moments together, one of the most common themes of our studies revolve around suffering. Where is God when it hurts? How do you deal with anger? Why does life seem so unfair? One series I did was called Living in the Pits where we studied the lives of others who had to wade through stormy seas. Job and Jonah, Jeremiah, John and Paul, Joe and Moses offer real encouragement through their stories.

Or, when you look at natural wonders like diamonds, pearls or butterflies, it’s easy to talk about God’s renowned ability to transform the hard things in life into strength and beauty. Molting eagles, giant oaks or delicate desert flowers display God’s enduring power. In the same way, we want these young lives not only to endure, but to emerge as trophies of His grace. That’s our mission!

We believe our Redeemer is serious about the business of arresting our attention. He wants to clothe us in the new linens of Christ. He wants to use the pressure to pull us closer to Him. The Lord wants to turn a house of conflict into an oasis of redemption.

Yes, Chrysallis House is perfectly named after the butterfly cocoon. Even in a place of confinement and restriction, healing can take place. In those dark weeks and months of isolation, young wings are formed and new life is generated.

Thankfully, many of the girls do discover their need of the Savior. They realize that they need to turn around and change the way they were living. And the best part of it is that many put their hope and trust in Jesus Christ and find new life.

Pray that these little rooms of confinement will become springboards to heaven, and their few short months of sentencing will lead them to eternal life!

Thank you for your prayers for Straight Ahead Ministries!

“I consider that our present sufferings
are not worth comparing with the glory
that will be revealed in us.”
Romans 8:18

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Hearing God’s Voice: A Tiger or a Lamb?

"Let's play the guessing game," my sweet boy pleaded the minute the car door closed.
Okay, guess what I’m thinking of.
“Is it a living thing?”
Yes!

I invited my four-year old grandson shopping with me this afternoon, just for the fun of it. What a great time I have with him! Between twenty-one questions, finding license plates or singing songs, there’s never a dull moment with that boy.

“Give me a clue,” he pleaded.
It has yellow stripes, I offered. Pause.
It starts with a J and ends with a D. Was I giving too much away?
He looked at his ski jacket colors. “Is it Judah?” he was so excited.
YES!
“But Nana, my name doesn’t end with a D.”
Well, you’re right. I was using your initials, I explained. Does anyone ever call you JD?
“Yeah, my Dad,” he said.
What else does he call you?
“Sometimes he calls me tiger!”
Wow, is that when you’re doing something great or strong?
“Yeah. Or he calls me Budders.”
When does he do that, when he’s tucking you into bed?
“Nope. When he calls me to do something.”
Oh, that makes sense. What else does he call you?
“Judah… or sometimes he says Judah Vaughn,” adding his middle name.

We have a lot of names, don't we? Then we went on to talk about how God knows everything about us. Not only does he know the easy thing, like the names we have and all the different things we do, but he even knows the hard stuff, like the number of hairs we have on our heads. We don't know even how much hair we have--there’s just too many to count! We marveled at the details that God knows about us.

“God knows EVERYTHING!” he hollered from the back seat.

I wonder what name GOD calls us? I asked.

Without missing a beat he said, “SHEEP!”

Isn’t he precious? I laughed pretty hard at that refreshing simplicity. So which one are you? A yellow striped tiger or a lamb?

The easiest answer is both. Dad calls him tiger and God calls him sheep. I've even called him lamby at times.

For a split second, this made me wonder about the different faces of God that people see. Some probably see Him as a fierce tiger and others may see Him as a gentle lamb. He also has many names and different faces. He is also both.

You're right honey. God calls us his sheep, our conversation continued, and the Good Shepherd calls his sheep by name. You know what else? Jesus said, “My sheep know my voice," too.

That’s when he got quiet. I peeked in the rear view mirror. In all seriousness, Judah said, “Nana. I’m confused. I asked God to talk to me one time, and he didn’t.” He looked so concerned, almost distraught about it.

I remembered teaching him the story of young Samuel. You don’t have to worry about that, sweetheart. When God has something to say to you, he’ll know the perfect way that you’ll understand. He might even just have your Dad and Mom tell you what you need to know for right now. The most important thing is that you obey what you already know. There’s no point in the Lord talking to us if we’re not going to do what he tells us, huh?

My little darling bit his lips and nodded. The serious expression made him look older. Honestly, this dear child was grappling with one of the heaviest concepts there is for any Christian. Where do I stand in relation to the Lord? Am I living in obedience? What would He say right now?

There are easy questions and there are hard ones, but if we were going to play twenty-one questions with the Lord, I wonder if he would start with this one: Where are you on obedience, sweetie?

Isn’t it precious that this four-year old is already desiring to hear God’s voice? Then, as always happens after telling him these things with such certainty, I was challenged. That’s the natural ricochet reaction whenever you teach, isn’t it. I came away yearning to hear Him more myself.


A couple weeks ago we marked the first anniversary of Frank’s death and with that, I relived the crucial, life-changing moments. Oh, how powerfully God spoke to my heart through a little yellow pot of daffodil bulbs! I wish I had such clear conversation, such mountaintop clarity, more often in my life. How long has it been since God spoke to me so powerfully and so vividly? His voice, as gentle as a lamb, as tender as a lover.

For me, that was a burning bush experience and there is nothing I yearn for as much as that. What an incredible God! Oh, there are words, phrases, and lots of nudges from the Sheperd's staff, and I don't mean to minimalize any of them. But even after God promised his presence and rest, Moses begged, God, show me your glory! (Ex 33). Think about it, they were talking face to face and he hungered for more.


When we read about Abraham, Moses and all the prophets, it seems like God was talking a blue streak to these guys from morning til night! The reality is that many years passed between the Red Sea and the mighty visions in the lives of these great leaders. Decades have been compressed into paragraphs, centuries into chapters.

There’s a huge difference between the Mt. Carmel exhibit and the small still voice in the desert cave, too. God meets us in a variety of ways and always, always, provides exactly what we need.


There's no doubt, even one minute with Him is worth more than all this world has to offer--that is, if you know Him as your Father. If he is still a fearsome tiger to you, than you must meet him. The tiger truly is a lamb and we are only truly safe when we are close to Him.

I hope my writings introduce you to the Lamb of God, Jesus, who loved you so much that he proved it on the wooden cross we call Calvary.



Oh God, I yearn to hear you and to feel your presence in my life more! I want to be more attuned to you, ready to follow, and quick to respond.

Lord, be nearer to me. Fill the empty places with more of yourself and help me stay close to you. Close enough to hear your voice, Good Shepherd.
Amen.

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Dreams

A Bad Dream
I had a dream about a week ago that keeps coming back to me. Maybe it has something to do with the fleeting thoughts I’ve had, wondering how all this is going to turn out. Am I really going to make it? Or, maybe it was just one of those late night snacks… something chocolate.


I dreamed I was driving the pathfinder in Natick, somewhere along Route 9, across from the mall. It was a busy parking lot area and I had visible luggage in the back, but I had to go inside the store for something and I had no choice but to leave everything locked up outside. I had my laptop and valuables in there too. What a nuisance. Oddly, I had a couple litters of puppies with me, and for some reason, I was sorry I had them. How am I supposed to manage all this alone?

I parked in the shady spot near a row of bushes and went inside. I have no idea how much time passed, but when I came out, the puppies were out on the grass. They were fine, cool, laying in the shade, and I was glad no one had taken them. How odd. Who did this?

Then my heart quickened. Maybe Frank came by while I was inside and decided to help with the puppies! Maybe he went to get water for them? That’s just the sort of thing he would do, I thought. No, he would have come and told me--wouldn’t he?

That’s when I noticed my car. It had been completely stripped! Not only was all my luggage, laptop, camera, and all I owned gone, but the car itself had been stripped down to the bare metal! I couldn’t believe my eyes. Why would someone leave all these adorable and valuable puppies and take all that metal and stuff? Even in my dream, the worst part of it was realizing that all my writing was stolen too.

I just stood there, stunned, trying to absorb the loss. It was so painful I woke myself up. The very worst part is that I never got to see Frank.

And I woke up, alone again.

Gosh, I wish I could have happier dreams!

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Understanding it
The sweetest part is that I still felt that Frank was around, checking up on me from behind the scenes somehow, and helping me take care of things. Boy, that was comforting! I wish I could have seen him though.

Now when I think about it, the dream highlights the things I value. How ironic that the things I didn’t want, the pathfinder which I’ve been trying to sell, and all those puppies, were all that was left. Everything I really cared about had been taken.

There are things I can’t hang onto or protect. Everything can be taken away. There’s so little left of my life and of the things I value!

The dream exposes how I feel emotionally. Like Naomi had said in the book of Ruth, I'll be honest. I feel like my life has been stripped clean, picked to the bare bones in significant ways.

What’s left?

Where do I go from here?

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Looking Up
Okay, it’s not the norm for me to write to such a downward spiral and leave you (and me) in the pits. Life does have pits, but we don’t need to stay there.

This reminds me of the old Rabbi who said, “We can’t stop the birds from flying over our heads, or pooping on our shoulders, but we can keep them from building a nest in our hair!” Ha! Isn’t that great?

Truly, the Lord is able to lift us up from those downer moods and aching thoughts. He reminded me by this dream that what I truly need to value is what is eternal: God’s Word and souls--the souls of men, women and children who will live forever.

All these things around us now will be stripped away. Everything will be laid bare before your eyes. All our cares and worries will be laid aside too.

Come what may, we still have a choice to make every day.

God, help us live our lives so they will count for your glory when we come into your awesome presence. I can't wait!...

Now there’s a good dream to hold onto.

Sweet dreams!

God speaks through a flock of geese

I was standing in my favorite book store the other day when my eye caught sight of a little flock of geese out over the trees. Wow, they’re just heading south now, I thought. It’s the end of January!

Certainly this prolonged season of warm currents and bizarre shifts in temperature must be confusing to them. Why, tulip buds are showing in my gardens! I’ve never seen anything like it in New England.

I watched them silently crossing the Southern sky. Straining my ears, I wondered if I could hear their trumpet calls, but they were too far away. Besides, I was behind a huge plate of glass. I started counting them and it suddenly hit me. These were MY GEESE from Beaver Pond! These are the same little flock I’ve watched on many occasions from my favorite sandy knoll. Goodbye my old friends! Safe journeys! I whispered.

But wait, something’s strange. I noticed that their usual vee formation was out of order. The leader was behind the rest of the flock and the vee was actually upside down and backwards! I’ve never seen that before either. As they distanced themselves further away to the right of my window pane view, they never altered that backwards stance. The whole vee was inverted!

I was amazed. Even nature gets confused I thought. Sure, they were going south. They were all in flight, they were all moving, even heading the right direction. BUT the norm was bent, everyone was strangely out of sync. I’ve never seen that before.

Wow. That's exactly how I feel right now. Me and my family are trying to move on but our leader is behind us now. He is out of sight and we’re trying to function without him. We don’t have the benefit of the current and thrust from his wings. We don’t feel the strength of his presence. He is gone from our view. So much of life seems backwards to me now.

He is fading into the background. Removed from sight. I'm having to learn a whole new way of have to flying. I'm flying solo now.

As with most images that God gives me, a double meaning emerged. It caught me like those southerly currents and took me a little farther along in my own journey. Not only for a widow like me, but this is exactly what happened with the church when Jesus returned to his heavenly throne. His disciples felt lost. How confusing life can be when things don’t go as we expected.

You can just imagine the sleepless nights, the tossing and turning, and the endless arguments they had trying to decipher the facts and reorganize their little frat house there in the upper room.

Come on Lord! A leader isn’t supposed to disappear from view! We need you right here where we can see you. How can a group of disciples carry on without someone to follow? Isn’t that what you said when you called us? You said, “Follow me.” Well, we’re trying, but we never knew you were going to go straight to the cross of Calvary! Where does that leave us?

The One they pinned all their hopes upon had been beaten before their eyes. They had to endure the pain of watching him suffer to the bitter end. They had to live through the horror of seeing him die.

Boy, I can relate to that confusion.

The Savior isn’t visible to us now either. As a church, the real flock of God, we also have to fly by faith and ride these winds through the whole winter season. We have to band together and support each other in the long and arduous journey. Even if the season is prolonged and bitter, or harder to understand than we ever expected.

We have to believe he is flying with us to the very end.


We have to listen a little harder now. Maybe we have to strain our ears. We only 'see darkly as through a glass' right now. But someday we will arrive at the end of our long flight and we will be with him! Hang on, dear flock. This season shall pass and it will be worth it all.

Until that day, dear God, be the wind beneath our wings. Increase our strength and ability to endure even when it hurts, when we can’t see you, and when we feel alone. Amen.

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"I am with you always, even to the very end of the age."-- Jesus

(as recorded in the last words of Matthew)

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On Untimely Death and the Best of Days

I recently picked up and finished another of Chuck Colson’s thick and thoughtful books. These are always meaty and extremely relevant works. I am a great fan of this humble servant. He is a great apostle of the kingdom.

I had borrowed The Good Life from our church library, but never quite finished it. In fact, it was buried in a huge stack of books on my bedside table. Determined to get it back to the church library, I settled into my pillows in bed one night and flipped toward the back of the book. Ahhhh, yes! The Good Life!

Let's see, where did I leave off? Ouch! No wonder. I was apparently stuck on one of the final chapters, A Good Death! Is there any such thing? I wondered how many people who were attracted to this book because of its congenial title would even make it this far? It’s true, we all love to read and talk about the good life, but is it any wonder that Colson chose to leave this chapter til the end?

Colson describes the full, long life of Bill Bright. Of course he referenced standard verses, “to live is Christ and to die is gain,” for example. Then Colson writes, “It is a very healthy thing to live knowing we are going to die... We can enjoy every stage of life, including old age and final illness, entrusting our lives to God’s care. We need to accept the seasons of life and learn what God has to teach us through each.”


I paused, and questions rose up like bubbles in a wave. What happens if we don’t? What about when you wish you could turn back the clock and reverse the seasons? Yes, the world attempts to prevent, postpone or at least ignore death, but in the end, death forces us to seek what matters in the time we have. Colson asks, if we were assured of living forever here on earth, would people ever feel their need for God? Would parents feel the need to guide their children? Would children ever have to care for their parents? Would we even value one another at all? It really makes you think doesn't it?

Then he changes direction, addressing the deeper question: It's one thing to talk about death for the aged who lived a good life and loved the Lord, but WHAT ABOUT those who die young? He’s touching the raw nerve and I am cringing. Do I dare go there? Now? Frank's unexpected and untimely death still baffles me.

Colson continues, “This seems, on the surface, to be terribly unfair. For the Christian believer at least, there is the assurance that this life is NOT THE END—except in the sense that it is our last earthly witness. Sometimes our deaths can be more powerful than anything else we’ve ever done in our lives.”

This final statement was weighted with TNT. It’s true. Because of the life he lived, it may be that Frank spoke louder from an early grave than either of us ever imagined. Had he been 83 instead of 53 that surely wouldn’t have happened. It's almost as though death punctuated his message and accentuated everything we valued about his marvelous life. Death inadvertently called attention to everything he loved and lived for... his undying affection and devotion to grace, an infectious humor, an unexpected candor, his zeal for life.

The terrible shock of it caused people to sit up and take notice. Many were drawn to evaluate their lives. People were moved by God’s presence and His story of grace in our lives. Some came to salvation, others to surrender. Priorities were changed.
Death can do all that.

And how can it be? The memorial service felt more like a wedding than a funeral. It was truly turned into a celebration of gratitude for a life well spent. There was rejoicing knowing that Frank was in the presence of the Lord he loved. The pain was gone and his struggle had ended. An eternal perspective can do that.

But what about me? I wondered. I'm still at the part where I have to "accept the seasons of life and learn what God wants to teach me through each one." I'll tell you honestly, sometimes I wish I could just get to the end of the road a little quicker!

Yet, as Paul wrote, "I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed..." (Romans 8:18) So, in the meantime, until I get to go to see the face of my loving Lord, I look at life as a necessary process that is fulfilling his purposes and bringing me closer to the best of days.

Colson ended with these words: “Live each day as if it were the best of days and the last of days. And when the last of days comes, live it as the best of days.”

In other words, to the one who knows where he's going and knows Jesus on a first-name basis, make it count and finish well, cuz soon we're going home.

Let me ask you this. Do you know where you're headed? Don't just follow blindly down some beaten path.

Dear friend, if you don't know Him personally, if you're not sure where you stand or where you're going, make sure you settle the matter quickly.

We're already living in the last of days.


Besides, no matter how old we are, from 3 to 103, I think death will always feel like an untimely visitor. We were created to desire LIFE!

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Who am I?

The Official Newsletter of Today's Christian Magazine
Friday, February 02, 2007

"But who am I?"

They were the first words out of his mouth when, standing before the burning bush, Moses learned of God's overwhelming plans for him. And often they're the first words we utter when, kneeling before God in prayer, we sense His calling us to embark on an impossible ministry—or meet one of our world's staggering needs.

"What can I do to make a difference?" we ask. "I'm only one person!"

Andrea Bianchi,Newsletter EditorToday's Christian Weekly


I read this item the other day and decided to go back and review the other side of that conversation at the burning bush. It struck me that the real brilliance of the whole event comes not from his many questions and lame excuses, but God's amazing answers and generous provisions beginning with "I will be with you," and "I AM who I AM."

Now I'm sitting here praising the God of wonders who not only calls, but promises His presence and then empowers us to keep going.

I heard a wonderful worship song at a thriving church in Oregon in November. Part of the lyrics ask the same question,

Who am I that thou art mindful of me? That you love me?

And is it true? Is it true that you are thinking of me, that you hear me, when I call?

It’s amazing! I am a friend of God!

I am a friend of God, He calls me friend!

Though it seems only right that I should ask such questions, it's more of a stretch to think that Moses would have felt so insecure. After all, Scripture tells us that God spoke to him face to face as a man speaks to his friend! Yet, we are told that he was the meekest man on the face of the earth.

But, who am I? Anyone remember the 70's? People left home in droves, okay in rainbow-painted Volkswagons, to discover the answer to that question. But when Moses asked it, he wasn't seeking fulfillment or self-realization. His was the honest question of a man who couldn't believe that the mighty God of Creation was stooping to his level. His was the amazed, humbled response of a man who was little in his own eyes. He felt unworthy.

One thing about that Moses, he knew he didn't deserve God's blessing. Having murdered an Egyptian, he had run away to live in self-imposed exile for forty long years. No longer impressed with himself, this former prince of Pharoah had become a simple goatherder on the back side of the desert.

In other words, just the sort of man God delights to favor! He opposes the proud and uplifts the humble. At last, here was someone He could use. Yet, what pleases God is not only that we confess truth and realize our own limitations, but take it to the next level. We must believe and humbly accept his divine provisions.

Don't you love how God turns our questions around? The "am I?" became the great "I AM".

The Lord God calls us to lift our eyes away from ourselves and all our shortcomings. In the end, it's not about us at all. Our focus needs to be on trusting who He is, and receiving his answers to our needs.

For the next forty years, Israel would labor through the school of hard knocks to learn these things. Some of their exams included the diet of manna, water from a rock, giants in the land, and snakes at their heels. It wasn't easy, but the Lord provided.

The more impossible the situations, the more incredible and evident His power. Quail fell three feet deep and twenty miles around them when they thought he was incapable of giving them meat in the wilderness! Is God's arm ever short? These are the very circumstances that gave him the glory.


God, forgive me. I keep slacking back into self-reliance, as if to say that I can do everything in my own strength. I keep thinking that it's what I do, or can do, or should do more, to meet my needs. But I can't!

The answer to the who question (as in, who am I?) is, nobody special. But what Moses should have asked is, who am I with? Certainly the next part is the best part, when God answered and promised His own presence. The best parts of the story are when He proved the mighty power of his hand.

The Lord, who does not change, still says it to us today. Lo, I will be with you! And I AM who I AM!

Yes Lord, help me never to forget that You are the great provider. It is only in your presence and strength that anything of lasting value can be accomplished.

All the rest is sheep dung in the dessert.

Slay that Dragon and Kill that Clown!

Life is a battle and the mind a battleground. My friends, feed your spirit. Be strong in the Lord.

The monster we fight reminds me of the clown in Stephen King's It. I flicked on a few scenes of it late one night while scanning the stations. Eeeeeeh! I respect King as a writer, and marvel at the clever usage of the ordinary, but yikes! The evil one is lurking behind every doorway and popping out in the most unexpected places. Appearing in such common places of everyday comfort, he chooses the bathroom sink or inside a refrigerator, or a bunch of ordinary, helpful people whose voices suddenly change.

That's just what the enemy of our souls does too, disguising himself in many colors, perverting the ordinary and even distracting us with balloons at times. Whatever it takes to pull us away or squelch our joy.

And just as a bunch of colorful balloons should bring joy to our lives, instead they bring a sense of ominous dread. They strike fear in our hearts in a King film simply because you know what’s coming.

This is the kind of world we live in now. Everything’s being twisted and confused values are taking over in every arena. None is so sinister and void of reason as abortion, where something as innocuous and innocent sounding as ‘pro choice’ has become the byline for murdering babies by the thousands. We are duped! We are so sadly deluded. We scramble from one scandal and horror to another, but nothing changes. It seems our nation is careening further away from God on a slippery path toward destruction. You can almost hear demonic laughter in the sewers.

Similarly, that pitiful band of childhood friends scrambled through life hoping to find the magic bullet. But to their dismay, that clown just kept appearing, finding new and more frightening avenues to disarm and horrify. The most uncomfortable part of watching IT was realizing how utterly defenseless they were.

In real life, we have a relentless enemy also. He keeps trying to throw us off balance or convince us to abandon faith entirely. His schemes grow more inventive, more wildly anti-God. He pops up around every turn and tries to undo us, but THANK GOD we are not left powerless!

Yes, dear band of friends, the LORD has given us sure defenses against every wile. The Word of God is able to slay the dragons and kill the clown every time he rears his ugly head. It really works! His Word never fails!

Here are some trustworthy arrows that will help you stand even on the most fearful occasions.

I can do ALL things through Christ who strengthens me. Phil 4:13

He said to me, “My GRACE is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that CHRIST’s POWER may rest on me. That’s why, for CHRIST’s sake, I delight in weaknesses.. hardships… difficulties. Because when I am weak, THEN I AM STRONG! 2 Cor 12:9-10

God is able to make ALL GRACE abound to me so that in ALL THINGS at ALL TIMES having ALL that I need, I WILL ABOUND in EVERY good work… He supplies seed to the sower and bread for food and he WILL supply and INCREASE… and ENLARGE the harvest… 2 Cor 9:8-10

To God be the praise and overflow of thanksgiving! Amen!


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On things Intermingled

Grief and joy are my roommates now. How do these two oddfellows dwell in the same house?

Sometimes I stand in the spot where Frank drew his last breath. I make a fire in the fireplace, I light scented candles. I celebrate knowing that heaven is so near. Sometimes I put on music and dance to the Lord. I thank him for life and for providing my every need. I have food and light and clothing and heat. I have a roof over my head and for this moment anyway, everything’s alright. Sometimes I feel such deep joy and gratitude for all the good life I’ve known.

At other times I am overwhelmed with the pain. I look harder and longer at Frank’s pictures and remember how the two of us were together like glue. We were best friends. We sat and walked and swam and flew together everywhere, around this globe so many times together. We were one flesh. Then the pain rushes in like the tremors of an unexpected earthquake and I am quickly thrown off balance.

How Lord? How can two become one like that? It’s a mystery, Paul said. But then, how on earth can the one be torn in half again? This must surely be a terrible mystery also.


Case in point: Different shades and Dragon Tails

Friday night I had my grandkids over for a slumber party. Judah and I played cards in front of the fireplace and sipped hot chocolate. It was so sweet. They both came into bed with me in the morning to watch cartoons and then we got out the playdough.

Of course, those eager little hands sometimes squeeze too hard and colors get mixed beyond repair. I spent a good deal of the time trying to separate the clumps of white in blue, the bright pink in yellow, and the green in the black.

With a kitchen knife I was actually trying to splice through the spots on animal legs and dragon tails. It was impossible.

It would be so much easier to roll them all together like a big marble than to try to maintain the original colors. The soft clay had been pressed together and rolled too hard. Oh Judah, we’re just going to have different colors now, I finally told him. The pink will be a little more purple and the orange will be a little more brown, I explained. We’ll just have to work with different shades from now on.

Now I realize what a powerful image this is for my marriage. Like soft clay, our lives had been so completely intertwined. For more than thirty years we were pressed together, rolled and shaped into one animal. How do you sever that incredible work of art that the Lord created us to be? We were such a team!

Even with the sharp blade of death, it is impossible to totally REMOVE the colors of Frank's life from this lump that remains.

I will never be the same, never feel the same, again. I am not my original color or shape. You will always see the pressed in colors and reminders of the one I love.


Dear Lord, I will never really understand why you wanted this shade, this severed piece to remain. What’s left is discolored, squeezed and soiled by the pain of life.

Perhaps the only good left in it is to make marbles.


Pliny the Younger (62-113CE), a lawyer, author and philosopher of ancient Roman times said, "Grief has limits, whereas apprehension has none. For we grieve only for what we know has happened, but we fear all that possibly may happen."

I'm not entirely sure that grief has limits. A sense of loss extends into one's perceptions of the future, doesn't it? And for me, there's no visible or predictable end in sight... at least until I also get to leave this body behind. I grieve not only for what we had and for what has already happened, but for what could have been.

How long will grief live here? If I could, I would evict this tenant.