Faithwalker

Extravagant Holiday

2012-01-26T12:54:00.000-08:00

When the tinsel is packed and all the pine needles are finally vacuumed, what's left? Are we filled with contentment and joy?

Sadly, many of the holiday gifts were returned as soon as the relatives went home. Some didn’t fit, didn't match, or weren’t appreciated. Parking lots around our malls were filled to the brim in the days after Christmas as much as the days before. Stores even opened two hours early to brace for the post-holiday frenzy. It's as though all the effort and planning and giving wasn’t enough.

We are an unsatisfied people living in a world FULL of STUFF. We ask, "What did you GET?" and "Did you get what you wanted?" And the music fades.

It is a studied fact that Americans have more wealth than much of the world, but we are more miserable and discontent than ever. Suicides and pills, addictions and divorce rates have skyrocketed disporportionately higher here than in other parts of the world that barely have the necessities of life!

So let me ask, did you get what you want? Do you have what you need?

If peace and contentment aren't scratched off your list, and you haven't yet been given a full heart of the riches of God's forgiveness, it's NOT TOO LATE! The great thing is, these gifts don't involve a large debit on your credit card, because they have been fully paid and reserved in heaven for you.

God created a one-size fits all package, wrapped with his care, guaranteed to give rest to your soul and satisfy for all ETERNITY! It is the promise of life eternal; a clean slate, a forgiven heart, a renewed mind and a place at his table forever.

You don't even have to find a parking place or stand in line! Just ask Him. Talk to Him. He's always listening, for the eyes of the Lord roam to and fro over the earth, and his ears are open to our cry.

I was just thinking, wouldn't it be great if instead of rushing through all our holidays like crazed consumers, we could roll them all together into one big celebration and make it last longer? What if it could even affect our daily lives? That would be one extravagant holiday!

Like the Magi you could "get wisdom, with all your getting," and pursue the God who has been pursuing you! Then, look ahead and celebrate a prosperous future that will last forever. Finally, commit to the One who sent his ultimate "valentine" and the greatest love letter ever written—the Bible.

This is so much more than a fleeting or forgetable toast to good health. The Word of God holds hundreds of promises to carry us through whatever we may face, and then on to a glorious future in his presence!

So, Merry Christmas! Happy New Year and the most extravagant Valentine’s!

You are deeply loved by the One who made you.
Psalm 139

Extravagant Gift

2012-01-23T17:00:00.000-08:00

We have stowed all the ornaments and heaved our trees out into the snow. Now we are three weeks past watching the ball drop in Times Square, planning New Year resolutions and toasting to a happy future. Almost overnight it seems the stores were cleared and shelves newly stocked with Valentine’s hearts and candies.

Where does it all go? All the hope and hype melts like candle wax.

You gotta admit, there’s no time quite like those final weeks of the year when everything around us glitters and points to the BIG day. Kids know—it’s the biggest celebration of the year. It is a festival of lights and a highlight like no other holiday. Christmas is magical.

There’s joyous holiday music, colored lights, wrappings, ornaments and trees. Everywhere we look we see twinkling houses, and bustling shopping malls in that enchanting season of expectation. Billions of cards are mailed, cookies decorated, candles lit, and countless packages are wrapped with care.

Somewhere in the midst of all this activity, lies a story that ignites the hearts of those who know it. We should pause and swell with gratitude because two thousand years ago the birth of a small inconspicuous child changed everything.

He demonstrated the extravagant love of an invisible God and made the Almighty reachable by becoming one of us!

Interestingly, all of this happens precisely at the time of year when the world grows darkest! The sun sets earlier, temperatures plummet, and the nights grow longer. Fireplaces are stoked and blue smoke curls from chimneys as we dig in for the long chill of winter, wondering how long this year?

I wonder how often this is so, when light from above bursts on the scene at our darkest hour. When all seems hopeless, dawn breaks and love is born by the God who created it.

He came down and dwelt among us, and “in him came grace and truth. No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only, who is at the Father’s side, has made him known.” (Jn 1:17-18) His birth was a glorious surprise, but many missed it completely.

Dear God, in all the hustle-bustle of our celebrations and gift-giving, perhaps we have overlooked the greatest gift of all. It is life itself in a relationship you made possible through the offering of your own body on the cross! In Jesus we can approach your throne to receive forgiveness. Father, call us back to remembrance and thanks for your extravagant gift.

Portrait of Expectency

2012-01-22T18:37:00.000-08:00

It’s been building for weeks. What is God going to do? What is He saying to me? My heart can become fretful and distracted.

Just before Christmas with my thoughts a jumble of shopping lists and gift ideas, I passed the lake nearby and my eye caught a great blue heron standing in the shallow (and not yet frozen) water by the rocks. He struck a perfect silhouette with his long beak stretched forward. He was ready to pounce, yet standing in perfect stillness against the colors of the lake and sky.

It was such a beautiful sight I turned the car around and stopped, then walked out to a better vantage point to admire him. Wow, what a portrait of expectancy! Oh Lord, I want to stand like that.

Poised and upheld in grace.
Watchful, but trusting.
Perched in readiness, but anxious for nothing.

Yes, Lord, a portrait of expectancy and readiness, but a quiet voice of serenity and wisdom seeped through.

I never did get his picture. As I neared with camera in hand, he spread his great wings and flew along the tree line, apparently intent on fishing in solitude. But I decided in that moment, I want to stand like that—unruffled and resting, knowing the all-sufficient grace. It is enough.

“Come and see the works of the Lord,” the Psalmist declared. “Be still and know that I am God…. I will be exalted in the earth... The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.” (from Psalm 46)

And again, David wrote in the Desert of Judah [which means praise], "Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me." (Psalm 63:7-8)

Kite

2011-12-01T19:02:00.000-08:00

I’ve been thinking a lot about the ebb and flow of God’s moving. The ocean tide goes way out before it floods back in to shore. The night grows very dark before the dawn breaks. And, winter gets extremely long and interminably cold. The frigid ground grows hard as stone and seems hopelessly barren before spring bursts forth.

In my life, I should be able to rest in the down times and trust when life doesn’t make much sense. I should know that God is still working, as all of nature confirms. “This too shall pass.”

Friends of mine told me recently that I was “like a kite without a string,” and we laughed.

“Yeah, Frank used to hold me to the ground.” I smiled with a few tears remembering my good husband who always made me feel safe and secure. “Only God knows where I’m heading now.”

I’ve watched kites in the wind before. When conditions are right, they can rise so high and quickly cover great distances, but then the wind softens, they dip and the string slackens. Sometimes, it looks like they’re flying upside down! Or, they may twist around in circles awhile, turn laterally, and rest on the gentle breezes awaiting another surge.

I feel like I’m in that stage right now. I don’t know the ‘next thing’ for my life, but I’m way waaay out there! Life seems bewildering up here in the clouds, but the options are many.

Yes, I’m very kite-like.

And life very much resembles the wind. We never know where it will take us or how suddenly it will change. It could be anything from a gentle breeze to a tornado with enough gale force to lift our house off its foundation. We live with certain unpredictability.

Now, I look down at the faraway ground and remember what “normal life” used to feel like.

Will I ever have a home again, a “real job” or even a husband? Sigh. Will I soar to greater heights or will I nose-dive straight into the rocks?

I suppose from this altitude anything’s possible, but one thing is clear. Kites don’t control what happens. All they do is yield.

Dear God, hold onto me. Sustain me. Be my string.

“The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” –Jesus
John 3:8

ADVENT!

2011-11-30T11:56:00.000-08:00

My friend Scott spoke about Zechariah and Elizabeth Sunday morning. The story is found in the very beginning of Dr. Luke’s gospel and piqued my interest with a whole new perspective. Honestly, there’s no other book in the world like God’s Word! Even after 39 years of serious Bible study, there is always something new, like diving in the ocean. You can never exhaust the wealth and riches of it, and there is always some fantastic new treasure to be discovered.

After 400 silent years between Malachi and Matthew, all the years of waiting and praying for a child, the DIVINE STORY breaks back on stage. The curtain rises and we, the reading audience, come to the opening scene: the day Zechariah was chosen by lot to offer incense in the temple. Steeped in Jewish tradition and the laws of Moses, Scott pointed out that he was 1 out of about 18,000 priests on call. It probably felt like winning the lottery to have this opportunity to serve.

Let me insert a thought about that--a striking contrast to the AWESOME PRIVILEGE we have today! We are urged (at the end of Hebrews 4) to approach the throne of grace with confidence, since Christ’s death on the cross caused the temple veil to be rent in two from top to bottom. He opened the way for us to approach God freely at any time and call him Abba Father! Back in ‘the day’ however, you had to be selected to enter into the presence of God, in the holy of holies. They even had to tie a cord around his ankle in case he fell dead due to a misstep and had to be dragged out!

But getting back to the main stage of our story, the precise timing and hand of God in the details was evident when the old man stood before the altar and now his day got even better when an angel appeared and said, “Your prayers have been heard.” Wow! Who among us wouldn’t LOVE to have that happen? “Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to give him the name John. He will be a joy and delight to you and many will rejoice because of his birth…”

It’s a great story, isn’t it? Don’t you love it when someone finally has a breakthrough and a dream is fulfilled? We often skim over the details of a familiar tale, but “well along in years,” they had probably carried an unfulfilled desire for a child for decades. For all we know, this couple was in their seventies or eighties, and had every reason to give up hope. Insert another cultural tidbit: Elizabeth’s barrenness was actually just cause for divorce in those days, but they stuck with it. They chose to stay the course, and both were called blameless in the sight of God.

God knows the desires of our hearts. We can’t change our circumstances, but it’s up to us what we do with them. We can shake our fist, blame the heavens and powers that be, or we can rest in the hands of a loving God and trust that He knows. That’s it! It’s not really very complicated. The God of the heavens understands and he has a plan for all this. It doesn't matter how long it takes. It doesn't really matter if I understand it all. His perfect will is well worth waiting for, and when He moves, it's going to blow your mind!

“For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” (I Cor 13:12)

I hope that whatever you're going through today, you'll stay the course knowing, God understands. Say in your heart, Lord, give me the strength to endure the waits, and the wisdom to trust in your promises. Amen.

My Generous Friend

2011-08-30T07:31:00.000-07:00

I have a really good friend named Jeshua, who lives above me in my humble apartment building here in Rome. I knew he was a business owner, but I was surprised when neighbors told me he owns a sprawling coastal villa on the Mediterranean.

“Why don’t you live there?” I asked him one day. “That’s got to be a lot better than this old building.”

“Oh, it’s a long story,” he said with a sigh. Though he was obviously heartsick about it, he told me about it, bit by bit.

As it turns out, Jeshua had a friend who lost his job and his home when the economy turned. He’s known him since childhood and loves him like a brother. The man has five kids and it looked like they would end up on the streets. At the same time, my friend’s business needed him in the city, so he decided, "Why not let them stay at the villa and enjoy it in my absence? Besides, they really needed help,” he said apologetically.

Understanding that this family was desperately scraping to get by, Jeshua was feeling extra generous and decided to charge no rent “until they could get on their feet.” He secretly decided to keep paying all the utilities and arranged to have the bills sent to his office, and told them they could use the game room and the pool in the backyard too. "Those kids were jumping for joy at their good fortune. They never had it so good," he chuckled.

Weeks rolled into months and the father still had no work, so my friend never asked them for a dime. The tenants lived in a sprawling estate completely at his expense, responsible only to clean and put out the garbage. “I just assumed they would take care of it,” he said.

Instead, they got lazy and the kids got out of control. They trashed the game room and broke equipment. Floors and bathrooms got filthy, furniture was scratched up, everything in disarray, and the trash piled up outside in heaps, not taken to the gate for pick up as he requested.

The unemployed father started drinking heavily and the mother became chronically depressed. The kids acted out and costly dishes and decorations were broken. Upholstery was ruined and Persian rugs were stained with spills. "But that's not the worst part," he said, preparing me.

"One night the teenagers got into the liquor cabinet and had a pool party. The parents weren’t even aware of it since they were
watching movies in the theater room in a detached stupor."

"Horribly, a beautiful thirteen year old girl was raped in the garden area while loud music played. And that's not all... Another young girl fell into the deep end of the pool, and couldn’t swim. By the time someone realized what had happened out there in the dark, it was too late."

"Two kids pulled the girl out of the water but she was already turning blue by the time one of them called 911 in a panic." Jeshua's voice cracked and his eyes filled with tears. "She could not be revived," he said sadly.

"When paramedics and police arrived they began inquiries about who owned the home. Then, through some quirky old legalities, I was implicated. Though I wasn’t even home when all this occurred, I was found legally responsible."

"They rushed to arrest me and take me into custody facing rape and murder charges of minors on my property, not to mention thousands of dollars in damages and legal bills."

When he read the reports and saw photos of the property, Jeshua couldn’t believe how they had taken advantage of his kindness to them and let things get so far out of control. “What really hurt,” he said, “was the feeling of betrayal by my own friends.”

Once again, my friend had to pay for everything. Not only did he have to settle the charges and cover all the damages and legal feels out of his own pocket, but Jeshua had to serve time in custody while that whole family went scot free!

I was outraged. The extraordinary generosity of my friend was completely abused. He bent over backwards in their hour of need, but then he was blamed when things went wrong. "It isn’t fair!" I said. Once the lawyers and insurance companies latched onto the fact that the homeowner is wealthy, they went after him with a vengeance for the drowned victim and the raped girl whose parents finally settled for huge sums.

“It cost millions,” he whispered, “but you know what hurt most?" I shrugged, unable to imagine how I would ever separate all my conflicted emotions of anger and hatred in prison under such circumstances. "My dear old friend never visited me in prison, never lifted a finger to clean up the house, and, never even thanked me.” Then I almost dropped my teeth when he said, "and they’re still living in my house to this day!"

“Are you kidding me?" I asked. "How much longer are you going to put up with it? If it were me I’d march right over there and kick them all out on their ungrateful butts! I probably would have done it a long time ago!”

“Ah well, I’ve had enough to worry about. And where would they go?..." His eyes looked off to the horizon as though remembering his childhood while I stared at him in amazement. "Do you still care?"

"Don't worry," he smiled, "my plan is to finish up my business here in the city and then go back and put my house in order.” He took a sip of wine and said slowly, “Someday, my friend.” His eyes got a little misty as he added, “but I’m really not looking forward to it.”

*******

My good friend in this modern parable is Jesus. The jobless homeless thankless friends he loves so much are you and me, common everyday self-centered sinners who take, take, take, and then blame God whenever we get into trouble. We accuse and rant, “Why did GOD let this happen?”

When will we recognize that it is our laziness, our ingratitude, our drunken stupor, our lust, greed, violence, mindlessness and stupidity that creates so much pain in the world? We fail to see whose generosity and giving heart covers all costs and suffers all damages, but has sworn to return from the heavenly city and put his house in order.

“But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise... He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief…

...in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness…

Bear in mind that our Lord’s patience means salvation…”

2 Peter 3:8-15

America in Crisis

2011-08-29T17:42:00.000-07:00

Since there have been attempted burglaries in my Rome aparment building lately, I left the TV turned on to MSNBC Italian news Sunday morning and came home late surprised to hear broadcasters covering Hurricane Irene from the States, in English. It seemed strange to ‘recognize’ the fast headlines in my mother tongue, and even more, to hear such terrible highlights like these:

Irene threatened 65 million people along the US east coast - THE LARGEST NUMBER OF AMERICANS EVER AFFECTED BY A SINGLE STORM.
22 states affected by Hurricane Irene, more than any other single storm EVER
President Obama declared a state of emergency for 11 states and Puerto Rico
12” of rain dumped in New Jersey, serious flooding in many areas
Vermont sees worst flooding in 100 years
40 lives lost as stories of rescue and clean up crews continue, half from electrocution
4 million without power, many downed trees, power lines and $40 billion destruction to property

Wow, all this on the heels of the first earthquake that rocked the whole East Coast just days ago, and the economic crisis before that. At first, it seemed many international headlines focused on Obama's golf game on Martha's Vineyard, but I'm sure for many of us, this was the first time we realized that a 'little' 5.8 on the rector scale can shake half the nation because it sits on one geological plate.

Thankfully, there didn't seem to be much loss of life. While many are relieved they only saw heavy rains, some complain that it was overly hyped in the press, but I don't believe that's the last we'll see, do you? Three times in three weeks I've seen news about America in crisis.

When the earthquake hit near DC, my friend Walter was teaching a Bible study up in MCI Concord prison in Massachusetts. He wrote:

"So there I was preaching down underground in the Prison Chapel today. There were probably 60 inmates listening to my every word... teaching on the coming of Christ. If you remember... at the exact time Jesus gave up His life an earthquake shook Jerusalem and God tore the temple curtain in two from top to bottom... All of a sudden the prison walls and floor started shaking and all the inmates started clapping. It was awesome!"

Having lived in the Ring of Fire in New Guinea for 16 years, we were accustomed to regular shakes, more than a dozen were documented in a year's time from 6.0 to the 8's! (I believe there were actually 18 of these in a nine-month period.) Water would slosh out of our water tank, tins would rattle off the shelves in our pantry, and trees would fall into the river and float away. Tribal people would wonder if the gods were angry. We were so far interior there were no streets or big buildings to worry about. It was difficult to judge intensity from our vantage point, though I once watched the ground at the airstrip rolling toward me like a big sheet.

On the East Coast in the States however, people aren't familiar with the sound that resembles a crew of Thunderbirds rushing overhead at sonic speeds, and that's a much riskier place to be. Whole cities of concrete and bridges and overpasses and even tunnels could quickly crumble and bury people alive. I read about people flashing back to 9-11 last week and wondering if terrorists were involved as they rushed out of tall buildings.

Listen, earthquakes, tornados, tsunamis and hurricanes are more frequent, more powerful, and hitting more places around the globe than ever before. 100-year records are being broken in many categories according to the data. This isn't made up hype by any stretch.

Scientists on global watch and response teams have been studying these things for decades already. They've been meeting since at least the 90's when they called the 80's a decade of alarming natural disasters.

The majority don't make the headlines, but every single day there are recorded natural disasters of one kind of another. Cyclones, droughts, earthquakes, flooding, freak waves, hurricanes, landslides, meteor strikes, mystery booms/skyquakes, pandemics, record-breaking disasters, solar flares, space weather, tropical storms, tsunamis, volcanoes, unusual animal behavior, weather extremes and wildfires are observed... I'm not over-reacting. You can read the observations of world class scientists (their speeches at summits are on public record) or read daily records such as http://globaldisasterwatch.blogspot.com/

It isn't fluke. It's increasing on a global scale. And I was reading that next year scientists say we are in for a massive solar flare that might knock out all our cellphones and technology. There's nothing we can do to prevent these global or universal eruptions. When it happens (and scientists are saying it's not a matterof 'if' but 'when' in their writtn report), just be prepared.

So how?

Please think about this if you've never thoughtfully done it before. How could someone predict all this with such accuracy 2000 years ago?

"'Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be great earthquakes, famines and pestilences in various places, and fearful events and great signs from heaven. ... When you see Jerusalem being surrounded by armies, you will know that its desolation is near... There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea. Men will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken. At that time they will see the Son of Man, coming in a cloud with power and great glory. ..'

'Look at the fig tree and all the trees. When they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is near. Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that the kingdom of God is near. I tell you the truth... Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.'

'Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with disspation, drunkenness and the anxieties of life and that day will close on you unexpectedly like a trap. For it will come upon all those who live on the face of the whole earth. Be always on the watch, and pray that you may be able to escape all that is about to happen, and that you may be able to stand before the Son of Man.' Each day Jesus was teaching at the temple ... and all the people came early in the morning to hear him..."

Luke 21:10-38 New International Version of the Bible

All these things come as warnings from a gracious God who wants us to receive forgiveness and find salvation. Jesus said plainly it all points to his coming and soon we will see Him restore all things, recreate the heavens and the earth, and bring judgment on evil.

Perhaps this is hard to think about when you are wealthy and content with life, but imagine the prayers of the millions of victims of human trafficking, 27 million slaves, 10 million children, 40 million displaced worldwide, the abused, hungry and imprisoned... Like the men in Walter's Bible study, they will stand up and clap for joy at the expectation of being freed and saved.

We should all look forward to a time when righteousness will reign and there will be peace at last.

Arise my love!

2011-08-29T14:52:00.000-07:00

“Therefore prepare yourself and arise, and speak to them…”

Jeremiah 1:17

Dear friends old and new, near and far,

I’m sorry I let my blog lie in dormancy so long. Where did the last year and a half go?

I finished my book and moved a couple times. The first move was in Boston, and now I'm living in Rome and working with refugees. I just took a short trip to Switzerland and am planning to go to Wales next month. In all these things I've been stirred to journal more and now that I’m back in the writing groove, I’ve decided to revive the faithwalker site.

I invite you to enjoy the ride with me as I write about my travels and God-encounters, current events and issues that move me, and of course, messages from God’s Creation and spiritual reflections based on a Biblical faith.

I'd love it if you'd share comments so I could meet and include your voices from around the globe.

Sincerely,

Faithwalker

Little Hibiscus Tree

2009-10-26T11:49:00.001-07:00

My beautiful hibiscus tree had a great summer season. At one point I counted 65 buds in the afternoon sun, delighted with coral gems blooming four and five at a time! They would greet me every morning when I stepped outside, Bible in hand, to spend time with the Lord. That tree breathed fresh encouragement to my soul every time I passed. Ah, thank you for seasons of refreshing, Father.

If you’ve been to my house you know how much I love flowers, but I especially care about that tree. It is a remembrance of the years with my husband. I even matched the color of its petals to paint the two Adirondack chairs (an anniversary gift from our kids) where Frank and I would sip coffee, reminiscing about our lives together in the tropics and dreaming about the future.

Last winter I thought she would die. She suffered a blast of bitter cold in the process of moving. I pruned her severely and tried protecting her through the transition, but arriving in my new home, all the leaves withered up and dropped to the floor. It was a horrible sight--but I couldn’t give up. I wrapped it with decorations and kept watering and hoping… even speaking to its lifeless limbs! “You have to survive! You and I both have to get through this somehow!”

I thought by determination I could see her through life’s traumas. More water, more sun, and more prayer for renewal. That’s why I shared a sense of sheer victory when she came through it with brilliant blooms like messengers of hope.

We had beautiful warm days this October, still in the sixties, and the tree kept blooming prolifically. Then temperatures started dipping. We reached a meager 34 degrees one morning and the leaves frosted. “How am I going to save you?” I whispered. “I need someone to help me.”

My landlord, a tree guy, stopped by just in time and together we carried it up and across the threshold, placing it lovingly beneath the skylights so it could continue to enjoy the same hours of sun it was getting on the patio. A perfect environment! I hoped it would thrive again and appreciate returning to the warmth of my kitchen. I thought I was saving it, but would it respond?

I think I know how God feels. He is the vinedresser. He cares and provides for us, and sent Jesus to carry our burdens. Then he took us lovingly in his own arms wanting to bring us into the warmth of his fellowship. The question is, will we respond?

Sadly, my little tree is in a state of shock again. All the leaves have been turning yellow and falling on the floor. Sometimes, I admit, I feel like doing that too. (Just like me, a hibiscus doesn’t handle change very well.) Every morning I'm sweeping withered leaves and the upper branches are almost empty. Here we go again, I huffed under my breath. What a terrible waste!

But what’s this? Just when I was losing hope, one more flower bloomed in brilliant red yesterday morning. It’s very low on the branches and hanging on for dear life at a place I wouldn’t ever expect to find a bloom. Oh God, you are too much. You’re reminding me of your continuing story with another message of perseverance.

I need to be like that!

Bloom, even when everything’s against you. Go the extra mile when the chill of winter is upon you. Break out in love for no other reason. Forgive or reach out to someone who’s hurting when you feel like you have nothing left. Smile for someone else’s happiness even if your own heart is broken.

Even if no one sees, no one else knows or understands but you and He alone,

bloom for God!

“Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” Phil 1:6

Raku Firing

2009-10-11T23:21:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago a good friend asked me to her home to take part in a night of raku firing. Diane is a potter who loves exploring new techniques and mastering her craft. She goes to great lengths to learn and perfect every aspect, even to the extent of making her own kiln.

According to wikipedia online, raku is Japanese meaning “enjoyment,” and dates back to the 16th century. Raku pottery involves a glazing and firing process in a kiln with temperatures reaching as high as 1800°F. A post fire processing draws the oxygen out of the pottery. It is in the reduction chamber that the glaze creates a unique bronzed finish in the pottery.

Patterns and colors are unpredictable since they are created through this natural process of oxygen removal. We also experimented with a number of natural enhancements melting feathers, horse hair and leaves on the pottery while it was still red hot. The items burned off against the surface of the pottery leaving their indelible patterns.

After the firing is complete, the pottery is dunked in water to "freeze" the patterns. The reason the clay doesn’t crack under the drastic temperature change is that it is specifically designed to withstand thermal shock.

Witnessing the fiery passion of raku as evening fell in the backyard, accentuated the magic for us all. Mosquitos came out and nibbled at our elbows and ankles but we kept working, engrossed in the process and unwilling to abandon the work. The volcanic glow of the kiln, the heat of inhuman temperatures, and the sudden freezing and hissing of the pottery seemed like an alien encounter in the night.

I couldn’t help but think of God and how the breath of his nostrils created the universe. By the power of his word he called galaxies forth and in the end he will also melt this world with a fiery judgment.

As we come before him we are humbled in his presence, reduced as in a great reduction chamber. The Lord melts away the dross, forgives and cleanses. In this divine rearranging and instruction, He impacts our lives for the good.

When the Almighty touches us by the power of his Spirit he leaves an indelible mark on our souls. Every life is uniquely stamped and there are no two pieces alike. This is his purpose and it is magical, beyond our understanding. We are being transformed into his image, prepared for glory! This is the joy of creation. I am fearfully and wonderfully made and God makes all things new!

Though we face hard times and pass through dark trials in the night, our Creator is not willing to sleep or abandon the work of his hands. He labors to finish what he has begun and will continue faithfully until time has run its course and we are complete in him.

God says to us in His Word, I am faithful and I will bring it to pass. I will complete the good work I have begun in you until the Day of my appearing. Though night is coming, live as children of the day. Stand fast and be pure, even in times of trial. I am refining you that your faith may be made strong. Persevere and you will receive the crown of life.

Windsor Chairs

2009-10-11T21:11:00.000-07:00

I’ve been corresponding with a girlfriend who’s suffering a terrible divorce. Last week she was served papers by an unfaithful husband--a self-absorbed jerk who’s been cheating on her for some time. Though the circumstances of our losses vary greatly, I sure understand the awful whirling emotions. How could this be? Where do I go from here? Oh Lord, when all seems lost what do I DO?

My friend mentioned a strange compulsion to go out and buy new kitchen chairs and that triggered memories with me too. I did the same thing when Frank was in the middle of his fight with radiation and chemo.

I was walking around in circles saying silly things, feeling out of control as life was unraveling around me. One day, I told Frank, I'm going to go out and find some matching kitchen chairs if it’s the last thing I do. I couldn’t explain my odd obsession, but at least this was something I could FIX in a world that was falling apart.

It felt good to remove the wobbly and creaking old things from my presence and bring in something whole and strong to our little abode. Yes, this one thing I could do and it brought deep satisfaction. Sometimes, a task as menial as finding kitchen chairs can be the one thing that stabilizes you.

I still have those kitchen chairs around my table, sturdy as oak can be. They are black and walnut windsors, handsome and strong, but my husband is gone. Life can pull the seat right out from under you, can't it?

Many a day, I feel as wooden as windsors, and just as empty. I too was created for purpose. I was made to be full, but now I stand as a silent reminder of the family that once gathered here.

So much has changed!

I don't believe it's God's purpose to hurt us. When the chair is gone, his hands are still waiting to catch us and put the pieces back. HE is a loving Father who hates to see us fall.

But one thing is unchanged. I’m still standing! My legs are firmly planted on solid ground! I have staked my claim on such promises as the blessing to Asher:

"...your strength will equal your days. There is no one like God… who rides on the heavens to help you and on the clouds in his majesty. The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms... "

Deut 33:25-29

On Being Renewed

2008-12-31T20:49:00.000-08:00

New Year’s Eve, 2008

I just celebrated my birthday this week and it suddenly feels unbelievable that I even made it to this age.

I’m 54, the age that my parents died.

I used to think that this was old, but it sure as heck doesn’t feel old when you get there yourself. Seriously, life is short.

I suppose we have two choices. We can either think, man, I’m getting old and go out drinking or get depressed because so little time is left.

Or, we can look at a birthday as a day of new beginnings. We get to draw a line in the sand and start afresh! It is time to turn the page and start a new chapter of life.

16Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.
2 Corinthians 4:16 (New International Version)

16-18So we're not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There's far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can't see now will last forever.
2 Corinthians 4:16 (The Message)

I think it’s essential that we be mindful of the brevity of our lives in a healthy, spiritually-aware kind of way. Perhaps too many people go through life in a haze and come to the end of it without ever having given it one deep thought. Now that’s pitiful.

James says that we are like a vapor that is here one minute and gone the next and no one knows what’s going to happen tomorrow. (4:13-17)

The Psalmist asked God, give me a heart of wisdom to number his days aright. How fleeting is my life and yet we have God’s protection as a mighty eagle hovering over us with his wings while we rest in the shadow of the Almighty. (Psalm 39:4-7, 90:12, 89:47 and 91:1-16)

Consider the lyrics to Who Am I by Casting Crowns…

Who am i? That the lord of all the earth,
Would care to know my name,
Would care to feel my hurt.
Who am i?
That the bright and morning star,
Would choose to light the way,
For my ever wondering heart.
Not because of who i am.
But because of what you've done.
Not because of what i've done.
But because of who you are.

I am a flower quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow.
A wave tossed in the ocean,
A vapor in the wind.
Still you hear me when i'm calling,
Lord you catch me when i'm falling,
And you told me who i am.
I am yours.
I am yours.

Who am i?
That the eyes that see our sin
Would look on me with love
And watch me rise again

Who am i?
That the voice that calmed the sea,
Would call out through the rain,
And calm the storm in me.
Not because of who i am.
But because what of youve done.
Not because of what i've done.
But because of who you are.

I am a flower quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow.
A wave tossed in the ocean,
A vapor in the wind.
Still you hear me when i'm calling,
Lord you catch me when i'm falling,
And you told me who i am.
I am yours.
I am yours.

Knowing God gives life new meaning that’s for sure.

Dear Lord, thank you for renewing us as the eagle.

God's Yardstick - Part I

2008-12-31T19:08:00.000-08:00

The Forgotten

Here it is, New Year’s Eve and many of us are taking stock of our lives. In addition, I just celebrated a milestone birthday, so thoughts about where I’m going with my life have come to the foreground. Traditionally, many of us set new goals for the future and make ridiculous New Year’s resolutions. We’ll hear some on the news tonight.

Okay, they’re not all ridiculous, but perhaps futile is a better word. We make the same ones every single year but nothing changes, right? I read that only one out of five people will actually stick with a New Year resolution past a couple months!

Usually, the resolutions people discuss openly revolve around weight loss and dieting. Even Oprah apparently set her number one goal as losing lbs. People say things like, I’m going to get on that treadmill and exercise more. I remember hearing one man shout into the anchor’s microphone, “I’m going to floss everyday!” And I was startled. Is that really someone’s goal for the year? I mean, isn’t there more to life than taking care of our teeth? I have a dear friend who tells me I think too much. But seriously, are we put on this planet merely to avoid gum disease?

I get it though. Basically, these are things that have gone undone, though we all know we should pay better attention to maintaining health. When we were young our parents nagged, cajoled and urged us constantly with reminders to brush and clean off our plate, to wash our hands and say please and thank you. Maybe, in some small way, we revert to that part of our collective conscience when we think about starting a new year. Let’s see, what would my mother say to me? What am I forgetting? Where am I out of whack in my life?

There can be a lot of guilt wrapped up in these resolutions. In other words, I’ve been failing at some important areas of my life. What must I do to make this next year a better one? Sadly, the world’s most cited answers deal with physical appearances. The whole focus is on the externals and totally disregards the inner soul where so much remains untended in our lives. It’s on the inside that we harbor grudges and unforgiveness. The outer body can be trim and tanned while the inner man is tarnished with pain and sorrow.

And getting back to Oprah, a woman who has it all, I did notice on my Comcast home page that she set other goals after slimming down. She hopes to honor herself, reverence herself and then to have increased harmony in her life. Interesting. A woman whose assets are in the billions, exceeding a majority of third world countries, wants to find internal peace. And she's brave enough to admit it.

I think a more important question needs to be asked. What would God say about my life? And if he had one, what would be his yardstick with which to measure?

A Hot Love Affair
When asked about New Year resolutions, I’ve found that Christians often say they want to be more faithful with spending time in the Word of God and prayer. These are the things we’ve neglected or let slide, but we know we should tend to more faithfully to be healthy and fit in spirit. We too, definitely fall into the trap of paying too much attention to the externals of our busy lifestyles and day after day, week after week, we leave the Lord out of our daily affairs.

Then, when things run amuck, we come scurrying back “to find his grace in time of need”. Of course, when we come to him, he is always there just as he promised, but we have lost out on the relationship side of things. We’ve drifted far out of the currents of a love affair into the milder waters of lukewarm seas.

Yes, on what should be a honeymoon cruise with the love of our lives, we’re still stuck in the harbor. The U.S.S. Relation Ship is still tied to the moors. Think about it. Have we really become intimate or even consummated the relationship with our God? (And if you don’t know the answer to that one, please don’t even wait for the ball to drop at midnight! Shoot me an email.)

Ask yourself, have I become filled and intoxicated with him? Or, am I still too busy planning the wedding or packing my suitcases or just being distracted with the guest lists to have even allowed myself time just to be in his arms? To smell his cologne and nestle on his neck and to feel his arms around you? That nearness, those intimate moments, should be so desirable that you crave it above all else. This, the essence of a love-based relationship, is exactly what your God wants with you! He is the lover of your soul!

Now, I have to pause a moment to look at this a little more. Wouldn’t it be ludicrous if a young woman, espoused to be married, remained content her whole life just to know that someday she will be with him, but never spent any time getting to know him? No phone calls, cards or gifts? Not one romantic date or passionate embrace? Indeed, if she didn’t even know his voice, you would certainly conclude there must be no love there. This must be a marriage of convenience, of status, or political unions, of necessity, or some other thing, but this isn’t true love.

I want the hot love affair with God, do you? I would rather have some passion than some old stale religion. I can’t wait to be with him at the marriage supper. I can’t wait to spend eternity in his heavenly city and to revel is his presence, but don’t you want to know his voice and hear him more now? Today? Shouldn’t his love color all your days and quicken your heart?

Heaven help us not only to untie the Relation Ship and get out of the harbor, but to become head over heels in love with the Lord. To learn what it means to walk hand in hand with him on the deck. To feel his kiss at the sunset and to hear his whisper of love in the winds. To stay the course with our heavenly Father whose love surpasses everything and anything this earthly life offers, and not from a sense of guilt or failure, but true desire, a hot and passionate love that burns deep in our spirits.

God, teach and mold us into the image of your perfect love. Touch and transform us deeply within so that love becomes us. Just as in marriage, the mysterious example of Christ and his bride, and just as Jesus said in the garden his last night on earth, bring us into complete unity that we may be one. (John 17)

Now that’s a powerful resolution.

God's Yardstick - Part II

2008-12-31T19:06:00.000-08:00

Remember when you were a child, how your mom and dad would take a yardstick to see how tall you were? At the annual family reunions on the Fourth of July you would hear your dear Uncle Bob and Aunt Betty exclaiming how you’ve grown like a weed, but you couldn’t see it. You sure as heck didn’t feel any different than the last time you saw them. Well, maybe your pants were only down to your ankles standing up, (and they barely covered your shins sitting down!), but maybe they were shrinking in the dryer, right?

So when you were told to stand up against the wall and the yardstick came out of the broom closet, you knew we were finally going to set the matter straight. Exactly how much have you grown since last year? An inch or a quarter? Place your bets ladies and gentlemen. The truth is about to be revealed! Is your godfather really right and your pants the same size, or is it just a figment of their imagination? And they would put a little pencil mark on the wall, lest anyone would dare to question it for the next year.

When I’m reading the Word of God, his unchanging standard for truth, it’s just like that, except for one thing. I’m usually brought up shorter than I thought I would be. Actually, this is just what He tells us in Romans 3:23, there’s no exception among man, but “all fall short of the glory of God.” And again, “Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment.” (Romans 12:3) Coming before God in his Word is the time I get to stand up to the wall and see where I am, regardless of what anyone else says or thinks. And if I’m smart, I’ll pay attention to the markings.

What is Love?
Let me give you a great example.

The Greek city of Corinth was at a crossroads in Biblical times. It was a melting pot of the nations, much like Boston is today. And with the prestigious status of being a Roman colony in the days of Caesar, there came great wealth and prosperity. In an atmosphere of intellectual pride there was material affluence and moral corruption much like we see flourishing in the neighborhoods around Cambridge and across America today.

Likewise, the early believers were living in the midst of an anti-Christian environment in which people were encouraged to indulge every sensual desire. Gee, the similarities are astounding and it seems nothing’s changed in these two thousand years. Today, instead of meeting at the Roman baths, we have Sex in the City, Desperate Housewives, and a host of other programs piped in on cable and lauding the same pagan messages right into our homes.

We know the Corinthian church was riddled with problems. Jealousies, broken homes, and social pressures were rampant. Arguments and theological factions threatened to undo their fellowship. So what did God do? He went to the broom closet and put up a yardstick!

I Corinthians chapter 13 is where we find the so-called “love chapter” of the Bible, where God Himself invites us to step up, “Now stand tall, and see how much you’ve grown, my child.” Through his messenger, an apostle named Paul, the Lord preserved for all time some markings to help us see how he defines love. Read it through a couple times and think about God’s incredible standard.

First, here it is in the New King James Version, the widely loved and revered NKJV. Many of us memorized these words at some point in our lives. So they ‘ring’ with a certain familiarity like the lyrics of a Christmas carol or the national anthem. Maybe they are words that we haven’t really paid attention to in a long time. I challenge you to read slowly.

Remember, this is God’s definition of love written to the conflict-ridden church, to people who know him and like to imagine that their lives of service and worship are counting for something. In reality, they were filled with controversies, factions and divisions, and striving against one another.

Paul writes through the direction of the Spirit of God:

1 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. 2 And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3 And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.

4 Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; 5 does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; 6 does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; 7 bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 8 Love never fails. But whether there are prophecies, they will fail; whether there are tongues, they will cease; whether there is knowledge, it will vanish away. 9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part. 10 But when that which is perfect has come, then that which is in part will be done away.

11 When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. 12 For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.

13 And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

And here is the Message translation, Eugene Petersen’s contemporary parallel… See if the modern lingo does anything for you.

1 If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. 2If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing.

3-7If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love. Love never gives up. Love cares more for others than for self. Love doesn't want what it doesn't have. Love doesn't strut, Doesn't have a swelled head, Doesn't force itself on others, Isn't always "me first," Doesn't fly off the handle, Doesn't keep score of the sins of others, Doesn't revel when others grovel, Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth, Puts up with anything, Trusts God always, Always looks for the best, Never looks back, But keeps going to the end.

8-10Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled.
11When I was an infant at my mother's breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good. 12We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!

13But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.

How are you doing? Are you still standing tall or like me, did you feel the hand pushing down on top of your head, and the unyielding wall against your back?

“Hmmm,” the Lord whispers, “you’ve only grown a quarter of an inch in my love. You have a long way to go honey!” But be assured, your Heavenly Father never speaks with anything but the utmost tenderness.

“My child, I have such high aspirations for your life. If you let me, I’ll bring you up into all that I’ve dreamed for you! I will strengthen those sagging spiritual muscles and nourish those weak limbs of faith. My plan for you is growth and maturity. I WANT to see you growing like a weed kid! I want you to attain to your full stature and go on to enjoy a happy, productive life!”

Sure, we don’t really like standing up to the wall to be “measured”, and yet it’s just part of showing us where we are and where we need to go. Just like a birthday or like New Year’s Eve. This is a healthy time to stop and think about what’s important in life.

My prayer for you, dear reader, is that you stand up tall and let God show you truth. Let Him make a mark on the wall and then you set some wonderful resolutions for the New Year. By His grace, you will be wonderfully encouraged as you grow in his love.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, 2009!
(Let’s make it count!)

What a Trip!

2008-12-19T17:18:00.000-08:00

ON THINGS ABOVE...

A friend in Moscow sent me this link (see below) after we spent a couple afternoons discussing the ways we see God's fingerprints in our universe. Karina is still an atheist, but she is asking all the right questions. (I keep telling her that she needs to ask the One who has the answers now.) She was right to assume I would love this site.

For me, it is mind-blowing in a great healthy way (no drugs involved!) My father, the late Vaughn Thomas Judd, impressed me with a delight in things like this from an early age because as an engineer he was fascinated with the wonders of the universe. You know, he took us kids to the museum of science all the time and we sat in the garage to watch electrical storms and things like that. If he was still alive I'd send it to him too. Come to think of it, he's probably already seen it since this stuff is scenery en route to heaven! And we'll all get to take this scenic route someday too. What a trip that will be!

When you stop to think about the scope of all this, something like a couple hundred million light years from one place to another on this vast canvas of God's, it's a wonder that mere mortal can even produce photographic images like these. Some of these galaxies also span more than 100,000 light years across, too!

With names like Magellanic Clouds, Interacting Galaxies, or Star forming Region, you realize the awesome immensity of life. There's the polarized light of Boomerang Nebula, the swirling rings and marbled luminaries of such distant edges of all that is known to man. Yet, you get the distinct impression that it is a mere sandbox to our Creator.

One Supernova remnant resembles a gigantic red ribbon and I would name it Rahab's Scarlet Cord. It seems to whisper in your ear that God kinda likes that little story of redemption. And the Polar King Galaxy is like a giant golden cross. Another one of God's favorites!

The Reflection Nebula looks just like an enormous keyhole. Again, the Lord smiles as mankind seeks to find answers to the riddles that confound us. He is there, waiting to answer all who seek him. Come unto me, he beckons! Cry out and I will answer you! And who can gaze at the Planetary Nebula and not imagine that you are being watched by the beautiful all-knowing eye of God? You are the God who sees, as Hagar cried in the Genesis account. Speak to me Lord! Know my heart oh God, my Father.

The Star Forming Regions and planetary nebulae look like human cells as we would see them through a microscope. The Monocerotis Light Echo looks like a sonogram of a child in the womb. Then it hits you. All of life is patterned after something out there so much greater than we have ever realized. We are part of this incredible and expansive universe, and the One who stretched all this out across the canopy of the skies is the same One who made you and me. Our very life was breathed into us from the One who lives forever.

These are the most mind-blowing pictures of our universe that I’ve ever seen. You can put on some inspirational music and browse through them for a tremendous uplift to focus your thoughts and "rise above" when you feel sad or afraid or overwhelmed by the obstacles and challenges in life. Remind your soul that our GOD is GREAT (and here's where I wish we had an even greater vocabulary to express the awe that I feel) and that HE who created the heavens and spread them out like a bedsheet is ABLE to do everything he promised. The God who hung the sun, moon and earth upon nothing is able to sustain us, all the way to eternal life!

https://owa.newenglandmoves.com/exchweb/bin/redir.asp?URL=http://heritage.stsci.edu/gallery/gallery.html

“Since then, you have been raised with Christ,
set your hearts on things above,
where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.
Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.”

Colossians 3:1-2

THE WONDER OF THUNDER SNOW

2008-12-19T16:55:00.000-08:00

IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF THINGS

We're having a blizzard all across New England today. It upset my son's plans to move cross-country with a U-Haul trailer, my Christmas party was postponed, and of course area schools closed at noon.

Many heeded the advisories this year and stayed off the roads because a similar storm last December bogged things down so much the commute was anywhere from three to eight hours long. I myself needed nearly four hours to go twenty miles that day. I nearly lost my life on the way home, really, and a thing like that stays with you. Just to be sure, this morning I saw a tape of the Governor's message, urging people to stay off the roads.

It makes me wonder, how many canceled appointments and postponed deliveries were there? How many meetings didn't convene or classes didn't get taught? How many sudden schedule changes, deletions, and no-shows were there as people everywhere adjusted their priorities today?

I like to think of some positive probabilities too. Maybe people will get to spend more time together. Fathers may get to ignore their cells and play with their kids instead. When's the last time they made a snowman or threw a snowball with their sons? Mothers may get to shut down their laptops and cook a hot meal or bake some pies instead. Maybe they can snuggle their babies a little longer today. Fireplaces may be lit and games may come out instead of rushing to the malls for this final commercial weekend before Christmas.

Of course anytime you turn on the news channels it is the main item. We see pretty women wrapped up in scarves and earmuffs standing beside the highways to tell us how fast it's coming down and how much is accumulating of the 14" we're expecting. The sight is a familiar one for anyone who grew up in the northern states, yet you can still learn something new every day.

Take "thunder snow", for example. I grew up here and never even heard the term until recently. In fact, just like el nino, it's not even in my dictionary, but the weathermen are saying thunder snow is when we get an incredible 3-4 inches per hour. Wow, isn't that like God dumping it out of the skies in buckets? Is this something new? Will wonders never cease!

So, here we are, a highly educated, highly populated northeastern beltway of the nation, grinding to a halt and left looking upward. There are two more storms coming on the heels of this one, so we're in for a very white Christmas and our old friend Bing would be dreaming happily now.

All this is a great reminder that life is not something we can control. There are greater forces at work out there. It is baffling, mysterious, and change can come sweeping down upon us in a moment.

When I lived in the jungles of New Guinea however, there were no forecasts whatsoever. Things like earthquakes and tsunamis came out of nowhere. Floods and monsoon storms appeared with no advance warning. In fact, we could take off in a small boat and hit a wall of rain halfway up the river. Or, board a small plane and fly an hour over the tree line only to discover our airstrip was nowhere to be found! Life was full of surprises out there in a world without CNN and Fox News.

In stark contrast, today's storm started right on schedule at 2:00 sharp! We're pretty good at predicting and measuring. We're astute observers of our world, but no, in the grand scheme of things, we're not in control. Not the least bit. The sooner we awaken to this truth, the better off we will be.

There is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the one who is able to save and destroy. But you--who are you...?

Now listen, you who say, Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money. Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

Instead, you ought to learn to say, If it is the Lord's will, we will live and do this or that. As it is, you boast and brag. All such boasting is wrong... James 4:12-16

Is any among you in trouble? He should pray... James 5:13

The Geese on Goat Island

2008-02-22T23:16:00.000-08:00

On the second anniversary of Frank's death last month I headed down to Newport to spend some time alone. First stop after crossing those bridges was a place that Frank and I used to take the puppies. I headed to what I call the great wall on Goat Island.

To my surprise, a flock of about 100 Canadian geese were grazing on the grass by the beautiful Del Mer resort where people celebrate weddings. The sky was beautiful and I started snapping pictures right away, imagining God’s eye upon me through the golden clouds. Then I got lost in the spectacle before me…

At first, all the geese looked identical, with their sleek black heads and plump and downy bodies. Beautiful creatures! How do you tell one from another I mused? I enjoyed walking amongst them, trying not to disturb them much, and taking photos against the beautiful but obscured sun in the harbor. Something about that setting reminded me of Psalm 23 with the Lord as shepherd of the flock.

After about fifteen minutes, my fingers getting numb from the cold wind, I noticed that there was one big goose along the outer fringes of the flock who was limping badly, and I was mesmerized. To be honest, he was the only one I saw with any physical deformity. How sad to watch him painfully lifting that right leg as they shuffled constantly around the grassy field, eyeing me with mistrust.

"Oh, my poor buddy, you have a hurt leg," I cooed sympathetically. "Take it easy, take your time, I won’t hurt you." Then I remembered something I’d heard a long time ago. Geese mate for life and if one is wounded or sick the spouse will remain with them when the flock flies south, even if it means death. "Which one is your sweetheart?" I searched to see if one was sticking closer to him, but there didn’t seem to be.

"Oh, are you all alone too?" And then, watching this poor limping, brave creature made me want to cry my eyes out. The pain of losing Frank flooded right out to the surface again. In that instant I knew, I was just like that limping goose.

My mind raced back to another beach in the spring of 06. It was about three weeks after Frank's funeral and I was walking along the shores of Falmouth Heights. “Oh Lord,” I cried, “I feel like you’ve cut off my left leg!” I felt like a cripple, out of balance and unable to make even the simplest decisions alone.

“And where is that leg now?” the Lord asked gently.

“I guess it’s in heaven with you.” I thought of Frank and wondered what he was doing and seeing at that very moment.

“Then you’re half way home,” he said. “You’re in the spring-step to heaven.”

Those words buoyed my aching soul. It seemed the Lord had given me a higher perspective on the pain. I should raise my focus to the skyline.
But now, with a shot of raw awareness I thought, here it is two years later, and I’m still limping heavenward. Oh God! I still feel the shooting pain that screams through my heart.

Looking at this limping goose I said, "I know just what you feel like my friend." There he was, surrounded by this huge flock of birds, all strutting around and grazing happily. A perfect way to describe how it feels after church, for example, when everyone stands up to help each other with their coats and go home, or go out to eat somewhere… They are oblivious to the shooting pain that you feel with every single step. Only the limping goose truly knows the effort it takes to keep up, or that extra little dose of weariness at the end of the day. "None of the others know what you’re dealing with, do they?"

"But I do," the Lord assured my heart. I praise the God of wonders, beyond the galaxies, the God who sees me! The God who understands every inner thought and every inch we tread in this frozen earthly pasture.
Before long, a few of them hopped up on the wall and eyed the water in the harbor. Then, in groups of six to eight, they started flying off to the south along the water’s edge and out of my view. I watched the whole scene unfold until yes, even my crippled friend was able to take flight. It seemed he was hurting as they waited for him to clamber up to the concrete wall. But when the time came, he soared with the best of them, right off into the setting sun.

As I watched them leave, I realized that flying must be a lot less painful than hobbling around on the ground. And there it was—another aha moment! When we take to the skies, rising up on invisible currents of God’s grace, all the obstacles of this earth fall away.

Oh Jesus, my Heavenly Father, lift me up on wings of eagles. Guide me to your green pastures and help me to stay on course for the paths that you have outlined for me. Teach me in this painful season, how to walk, how to take off and fly again, and how to keep fighting the good fight of faith. By your grace, let me be as brave and beautiful as that striking black and silver goose against the sunlit sky today.

“Since then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things…” Colossians 3:1

“They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings as eagles.” Isaiah 40:31

The end of the story

2007-08-13T21:02:00.000-07:00

Distractions.
Hurting.
Loneliness.
Grieving.
Wholeness.
Healing.
Glory.

These are some of the topics that have been pried to the surface of my thinking lately.

Sunday morning I felt drawn back to NEC and was surprised to learn that they were having a kids program in place of the regular service. Kids Zone was a place that I personally taught for about a year and a half, and loved it, so I prepared to be blessed.

Some of the current teachers did a skit about a laboratory and they floated an egg in saltwater, demonstrating what happens when we add God’s word to our lives. In the same way, Lazarus was raised from the dead when Jesus called the command.

Then they acted out the story of Lazarus. It was cute and comical with adult humor and contemporary wit, but I may be the only one out of that huge congregation who cried.

In the middle of it, when Martha came to Jesus’ feet crying, If only you had been here, Lord, he wouldn’t have died! And the words reached into my deepest wounds like tiny claws and made me bleed again.

Oh God! I know that argument. I know too well how it feels to ask that why and not understand it all. Why did you stay where you were for two more days, Lord? Tears came quickly then. Again, Mary came to Jesus and repeated the anguished cry, IF ONLY you had come sooner, Lord! Even he wept, which touches me deeply. Yes, I have my residing if only down there in my heart.

Then I was struck again with the poignant beauty of the rest of the story when they moved to the part about going to the tomb. Lazarus had been dead four days and the women argued, Lord, he’s dead and this stinks! (my paraphrase)

But another line was added to the drama on stage when I felt the Lord speaking again to my soul. Jesus’ answer, at least the way I heard it went like this… “This story isn’t going to end in death, but in GLORY! Remember, I’m not finished yet.”

Yes, and what a wonderful, refreshing, dynamic truth. THIS STORY doesn’t end in death! We go on to glory! Even before we leave this body, this planet, the whole theme of creation is to show forth the glory of God. God wants me to focus on the ultimate glory even in the silence, even in that transition period before he returns.

Whether it’s four days as it was for Martha and Mary, or four years, or forty more years… He’s going to show up again and call our names with power and authority! He will loose the grave clothes and truly, finally, we will be set free. The trump will resound and we will all be raised! Hooray! He’s told us ahead of time so that we can hang onto the promise and wait in hope. We don’t have to grieve in the darkness of despair, like those who have no hope.

Until that day, I will bring my questions and complaints to Him because I KNOW he loves me still. He knows my pain. He feels the sorrow and doesn’t condemn it. I remember how he cried from the cross, FATHER! WHY hast thou forsaken me?

In the same way, he beckons me to pour out my inner anguish, surprisingly fresh even with the passing of time. It’s been the hardest, the deepest loss I have ever felt, but I know I know I know that glory will come of it.

I stood outside very late last night and again the Lord reminded me of his presence. All I did was stand there in the driveway in front of my darkened empty house and look at the stars.

Isn’t there a message for the listening heart in the beauty of the skies? It’s as natural as breathing. When we’re in the deepest, darkest part of night, and everything is clothed in shadow, we turn our eyes upwards to the heavenlies. We are drawn to the glimmering of the distant lights. They sparkle in silence, while the moon reflects a hidden sun.

The Lord seemed to whisper the reminder once again. Karen, there is more to come! This story will end in glory! Remember, I’m not finished yet!

BLUE SNAIL

2007-08-11T19:42:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I feel so alone in the world.

There are times that I am jabbed with the thought like an elbow in the womb.

I could be sitting on the beach having such pleasant thoughts and reveling in the beauty of sand and surf all around me. The air is sweet where grassy fields meet salty spray and sounds of sea gulls carry me to faraway lands and places. Kids laughing and splashing sound just like mine, though they are all grown now.

Sounds and smells so familiar lull me to peaceful serenity every time I sit on the beach. Basking in the sun I find myself in that nether world somewhere between reality and a distant dream. With my bottle of water and lotion, a couple of books in my bag, it is luscious to know I have a couple hours just to think and watch and pray.

I bird watch, I sky watch, and of course, I people watch. They drift by in relaxed chatter. Girls and children giggle, guys flex and act tough, couples hold hands and banter. Some pick up rocks and shells. Some dabble their toes in the cool water. Some jog and some meander. Then when they’ve had enough they pick up all their stuff, so much stuff, and head back to the car.

I am surrounded by little clusters of human groupings, like families, friends and lovers. All polite, but steadfastly distant. Like me they are just here to enjoy the nothingness, the solitude.

People don’t come to the ocean to connect to other people. They come to disconnect from their everyday lives. I think we come to feel a part of something much bigger than one another, and greater than our ordinary lives.

We were made to yearn for timelessness and our inner spirits crave renewal. We come to put our toes in God’s creation and feel that we have brushed up against eternity. When we touch God’s vast creation we touch the hem of his garment. We want to be renewed by the wonder of great deep things, and to feel like a child again. Yes, that’s it. We wade and dabble in the river of life and it makes us feel more alive.

My eyes trace the steps of a loving couple, their hands and arms around each other, laughing as they pass. Then the elbow kicks at my innards awakening the pain of an unseen life. Ouch! It is the life of my true love who has gone on ahead of me and now dips in the true ocean of life on the distant shores.

We used to be like that, I recall with a dreamy smile, watching them pass. We USED TO BE like that! Back when everything used to be “we” and I lived in a married world. A tear emerges from nowhere, crests like the waves rolling in before me, and rolls to the sand. My salt mingles with my salty surroundings. Oh Lord, we were so in love! But I’m not part of the we anymore.

I am like the solitary blue snail that I photographed today.

The people gradually fade into tiny blurs and voices drift away. They will have their dinners, put kids to bed, and find sweet solace in one another's arms. Ho hum.

The sky kaleidoscopes into oranges and pinks drawing my eyes heavenward once again. I took photos of the breathtaking sunset, trying to capture its golden brilliance. Even in its going down I am nearly blinded by its glory.

Oh God, I came to the ocean for renewed hope and perspective. I came for vision and strength. I came to feel a part, but was reminded of my losses. Yet just as the sun goes down every day I know it will return in full renewal. And though I now see only in part, one day my sight will be full.

No matter what jabs my soul or stirs its memories of pain and loss, help me to look ahead to a brighter day. Help me to wait in hope for the luscious and pleasing works you will display. Like a new day, you will arise with grace and healing in your wings.

I may be a blue snail right now. My feet are stuck in this course sand of earth. I can’t even see where I’m going and I don’t understand the plan, but I can hear the water afar off.

I wait for you, Lord God, and look forward to the Day when I will put off this little blue shell and be clothed in newness.

“Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed- in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.

For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality… then the saying that is written will come true: ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’"
1 Cor 15:51-54
NIV

Unwelcome Alarms

2007-05-26T12:56:00.000-07:00

I need to go in reverse a little and write about the repeated warnings God’s been giving me. There were three dreams with the same message (see former entries in April and May), sandwiched by the two bookend encounters with a warning sign at Beaver Pond [The Little White Sign, July 06, and The Fallen Sign, May 07].

Then there was a real live experience that woke me sharply at 3am one night last week.

I had thrown some old bank papers and checkbooks into the fireplace before going to bed. (Why buy a shredder, when I have this huge stone feature in my living room?) I thought they had long turned to ashes when I finally shut out the lights and headed to bed at 2am. Unbeknownst to me, the thick dockets and bound records merely smoldered. The smoke crept gradually up the stairs to my bedroom while I slept and then set off all the alarms simultaneously. When I opened my eyes, the shrill beeping filled every room of the house!

I rushed downstairs to check the house, relieved that there was no fire where it shouldn’t be, but the smoke was burning my eyes and making me cough. (Okay, it didn't look anything like this photo, but this was the only good smoke picture I could put my hands on. I just wanted to get you thinking about the awful loathsomeness of gagging smoke.)

Trying to keep my hands over my ears, I ran around opening doors and windows to air the place out. I was hoping that a skunk or bat wouldn’t find these doors open and help themselves to come in.

But a bigger, more immediate concern overshadowed that momentary thought. How do you turn OFF these blooming alarms? Waving towels in front of them used to work whenever we had damp firewood, but this is the first time the upstairs alarms had ever been set off. They’re mounted on 12-15’ ceilings up there and I don’t have a ladder in the house that will reach any of them.

Oh Lord! Why did you wake me in the middle of the night? What am I supposed to learn from this? Do I have to call the fire department to get these things disengaged, I wondered. I muttered to myself as I went from room to room waving smoke out and fresh air in, hoping the alarms would clear.

I flashed back to nights when we were awakened by strange sounds or bad dreams. Frank and I would be up together scuttling around in our flip flops and holding flashlights. We would usually end up making jokes and making it fun. When rain would blow in the kids’ rooms at night, we would end up all together on the living room floor, giggling and snuggling together. Even in hard times, I remember it being so joyful when we were all together.

Now, it’s just me, and my heart’s pounding. I have to figure this out or I’ll never get back to sleep, and this doesn’t feel very fun! Lord, be my husband, please help me.

The alarms finally slowed down and stopped after about twenty piercing minutes. I closed all the doors and windows and shuffled back upstairs. Crawling back under the covers I thought, Phew! That was adrenalin-rushing, mind-blowing, ear-piercing excitement for the middle of the night. What on earth? Then, I started talking to Jesus about it.

Lord, I’m glad I have smoke and carbon alarms in the house, but I’m not happy when they all go off at once… especially not when I’m sleeping. This is really bad timing, Lord. Too bad it didn’t happen at a more convenient time, I whined. I really need some sleep!

Is there ever a good time for alarms to go off? the Lord whispered.

That’s when it hit me. Did God orchestrate this whole event just to amplify what He’s been trying to say all along?

We despise warnings. We don’t want to be roused from the comfort of our beds. Oh, if the whole house was engulfed in flames, I would have been grateful for that piercing sound, but not when it’s just for a smoky fireplace.

***

Perhaps this resembles the church mentality. The end times are coming, sure, but NOT YET! Not now! Why can’t we just continue on as we’ve always done in the warmth of our own homes and the comforts of familiar patterns? We still have our programs and new semesters and monthly bills to think about. We’re busy celebrating our birthdays and holidays and planning our retirement. Lord, don’t interfere with our plans. This is bad timing.

I want you to come, and I sure want to go to heaven, but not today Lord. I’m too busy. I'm too comfortable. Please don't rouse me from my bed.

Keith Green sang such powerful prophetic messages to this generation. His lyrics practically screamed to our hearts about the need to be real with Christ, practical in how we spend our lives and meet needs around us. We need to wake up!

Jesus came to your door, but you, you've left him out in the cold.

God bless you, be at peace, and all heaven just weeps!

Jesus rose from the dead, and you, you won't even get out of bed!

How can you be so dead when you've been so well fed?

How can you be so numb, not to care if they come?

RELAY FOR LIFE, MAY 18

2007-05-26T12:34:00.000-07:00

11pm
I'm just back from the relay for life event at Tri-county high. I've never done anything quite like this before. Oh, I've done the hike for the hungry. We marched more than 20 miles to Boston, but this was different. This was Frank's birthday, and for me, it took on a lot more meaning than any charity event I've ever done or supported.

Besides trying to dress for the raw and rainy weather, I prepared myself with the choice of some significant jewelry I wore. I had my Psalm 23 bracelet on my left wrist, always a reminder of the presence of God walking with me. Around my neck, my own wedding band encircles a triple diamond tier representing the three decades I had Frank in my life. I also wore my mother’s ring, one diamond had been my grandmother’s, and one my mom’s—and I lost them both to cancer. On my right wrist I wore a beautiful emerald crystal bracelet made by Laurie, a dear friend who has been battling cancer for years.

Lastly, I carried a piece of paper in my pocket with the names of everyone who supported me. Counting spouses there are thirty names including one anonymous donor, and all were with me in spirit and in heart. The majority couldn’t give a lot in dollars but I can tell you that even the smaller amounts meant a lot to me and really added up to make a difference, too. Over $1000 came in and I am grateful to everyone who made that happen. Their names are still scrolling on my web page on the cancer site in a little section called “honor roll”. And let me take this opportunity to say another HUGE THANK YOU to all of you dear friends.

In all these symbols, I wonder if this is like the priests of Levitical times who bore the names of the 12 tribes of Israel on their garments and engraved them into the jewels they wore. I love the depth of meaning this portrays. I have a strong ‘hunch’ God’s into it too.

I met the kids for dinner at the Rome, a favorite old Italian place in the heart of downtown. Frank and I used to go there for date nights because he knew I loved the lacey curtains and candlelight. Together we enjoyed the great food and friendly wait staff on many a special occasion.

Tonight it was with Nate and Naomi and their kids, and Isaac and Jen. (Jesse & Bri had to stay home with little Jaden Frank, their newborn.) I’m SO so grateful that some of them could be there with me to remember Frank’s birthday.

Afterwards, Isaac and Jen went with me for the actual walk. We dressed for outdoors but heavy rain forced the whole event indoors. At first, it was much more upbeat than I thought it would be, but maybe that was because of all the high school kids. There were a few speeches and raffles and a DJ providing music for the walkers. It reminded Isaac of his own high school days when they would have skate nights in the gym, but I’m so glad they stayed and walked beside me. They may never know what their hugs and support meant to me.

All the luminaries were spread around the gym floor and in the center they formed the word HOPE. Reading them as we circled the laps moved me deeply. Bags were written with the names of loved ones. Words like, ‘Miss you Dad’, and ‘Love you Mom’ or, ‘my Nana’ and ‘we’re praying for you’ barely convey the depth of pain and loss with true justice. Isaac and Jen helped find our luminaries and we put them all together in a little row.

Then the mood changed considerably. The DJ took a break and a lone bagpiper walked through the middle of the rows playing softly as the lights went out. Then the high school band played a violin memoriam piece for those who “lost the battle”. We were sitting right there in the corner near our names and wished with all my might that Frank was there. I could see the words we’d written, ‘Miss you Papa’ and “my best friend and husband of 31 years”, “Frank”, from where we sat, and the tears streamed down my face. Not just for us, my kids who lost their father, and losing my best friend, but for every one of those names on every one of those luminaries. Each one represents a precious soul and a family that has been torn apart, a beloved life cut short.

The survivors were called up to do a lap or two around the track as we applauded them, and there were more tears. Young and old, some holding hands, some crying, they paraded by holding little lights. For me, I wondered what it would be like to have Frank in that round, too. Oh my, it was more than I expected. Why couldn't he have been a survivor instead of a name on a bag? I tried to picture what he would be doing, and I longed with everything in me to see that smile of his. I know, the day will come. I will see him again. But sometimes I wish it were sooner. I wish it could be now, Lord.

I saw a few people I knew there and had a couple friendly conversations, but basically the whole gym was full of strangers--volunteers, grandparents, teenagers, men and women and scattered children. Yet, I could see the familiar expressions in many of their eyes. The brave and hurting. I recognized the agony of all who have been touched with the battle against cancer. In reality, we may not know each other’s names and stories, but we are united, this little assembly. This is a sect of humanity that is trying to fight a common enemy with our heads held high. There was something very solemn and sacred about that. Grief not only isolates, but I found out tonight that it also unites people.

It is my prayer that all our combined efforts and the cries of our hearts, with all the silent tears that fell tonight, will be gathered together and carried before God’s holy throne by angels.

I pray God will be pleased to grant us the cure to this horrible disease called cancer.

And to all who supported me, thank you and God bless you.

The fallen sign

2007-05-18T21:46:00.000-07:00

A few days after the third dream, I had a little time to read at the lake and the sun came out fully in the late afternoon. I went back to Beaver Pond, a place of quiet solitude where I used to read and write last summer.

I carried a water bottle, my book and Bible to the edge of the pond. I sat down and started reading, aware of little birds and the voice of some kids walking along the sand.

One of the boys spotted something at the water’s edge and called out, “Hey! What’s that? A basketball hoop?” The two brothers ran right past me to discover something lying in the shallow water. I couldn’t believe it. They had seen the sign that I wrote about last year. Somehow it was knocked down and just left there protruding slightly from the water.

“What does it say?” they asked curiously. The old familiar words, ‘caution deep water drop off’ didn’t seem to make much sense or carry much relevance to these youngsters. It’s funny, I was thinking, they could have asked me. I was right there in ear shot and knew exactly what it said and what it meant. I remember when the sign was attached to a long line of buoys, delineating the places where the deep water ran. I'd even written an article about it last summer! [The Little White Sign, July 06] But they didn’t ask.

Instead, the older brother decided to jump on it, roller board style, but it didn’t offer much of a ride. With all his weight he tried to snap it, but it wasn’t breaking. He pounced on it over and over, hoping for some exciting reaction. A snap, a break, but the sign held firm. Quickly bored with its potential for fun, they strolled away and meandered down the beach looking for something more interesting to do. Truly, this is a disregarded warning sign--nothing but an unwanted bit of useless information. They left it lying in the sand.

Watching their backs and their slumped shoulders as they walked away, it struck me. This is how our generation too often treats the Word of God. Once it stood plainly, marking the edge of the drop off. Then it began to be degraded, removed from schools and people’s hearts.

We are a people who have been systematically discarding and disregarding the Word of God. We have despised the warnings. Churches have closed, clergy has fallen into one sad scandal after another, and the house of God has fallen into disrepair just as this sign has been trampled in the sand. Some try to destroy it, but it can’t be broken. God’s Word will hold true and stay strong under attack. The day will come that no one will remember there was a drop off, or a sign that in clear red letters tried to warn the passersby. Many won't know it until they stumble into the dark waters and find that there is no life saver in reach. It will be too late.

God doesn’t seem much fun, so humanity has drifts on by. Some may have tried church, halfheartedly attempting to jump-start a spiritual life with a prayer or two. But whatever the expectation, He didn’t seem worth the time of day. Upside down words don’t make much sense and don’t seem worth deciphering. It's not near as exciting as a basketball hoop to a couple of boys.

The clear red letters of the Lord’s Word can be easily understood to those who ask. There is help available, right within ear shot, but no one asks. The Lord promised the Holy Spirit to those who ask him and wisdom to those who seek it, but they don’t bother. I wonder if the day's coming that it will even be hard to find someone who knows and remembers the words, or the days that they stood proudly in public places?

This little episode left me reflecting again on the three dreams I’ve had. All the repeated warnings in the world can’t effect a soul unless they have the honest heart of a seeker.

The Lord and his prophets have been calling out in the streets and villages, “Let him who has an ear hear what the Spirit says! Today is the day of salvation. Don’t let it pass you by!”

Seek the Lord while he may be found, my friend.

The Third Dream: an ocean rising

2007-05-18T21:40:00.000-07:00

May 10th

I had the third dream of warning and it came back to me the next night when I lay down to go to sleep. This time our house was located by the ocean and felt a little like Cape Cod. The house was built on a hill, similar to Wewak Hill where we once lived, overlooking the Bismark Sea. It should have been a dream come true location. Sunny skies and a crystal tropical green ocean surrounded by swaying palms seemed magical.

Suddenly the skies darkened and the waters turned hostile as the sun set. The tide started rising to alarming heights and approached the back side of the house. Waves were pummeling the sides and water was entering the rear rooms. I started saying, “It’s time to leave! We have to move quickly!” With great sadness I knew the time had come. It was time to go. Once again, it felt like no one was listening. No one was there to tell.

I woke up feeling very much alone, watching the dark deep waters rising. I was wondering how long the house could stand against that tide? How much longer do we have?

What does this mean, Lord? Why do I keep dreaming the same thing?

This third dream seems to portray the same message. I believe it is a warning that though we seem to have such freedom and such sunny skies here in America right now, the time is quickly coming that everything’s going to change. How long will the church stand when the tide of our enemies becomes fierce and rises against us? How many will be there to fight the good fight?

The Lord urged us to walk while we have the light. Soon we will have it no more.

DREAMS: Rising temps and swirling tides

2007-04-30T22:42:00.000-07:00

I had a couple intense dreams in the last two weeks, and I've been carying them with me, knowing that I should share them.

I. The first dream took place in the middle of this house, yet it also carried traces of our old house in New Guinea. Frank and his dad (both passed away) were somehow making a fire right where the kitchen island is. I saw that they were heaping lots of wood into the stove of the fireplace and they were saying how much heat it would produce. They were so pleased and the kids were playing around us. But I looked up above the fireplace and saw that the walls were so hot that the paint was starting to turn black and peel as though it would burst into flames any second!

Horrified, I was trying to tell everyone we need water to put it out, but no one was paying attention. Everyone just kept doing what they were doing, almost like I wasn’t there… I woke up feeling like fire would burn down my whole house and there was nothing I could do. It was an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. I got up and got a drink of water.

II. About a week later I had another dream. This time I was living on the riverbank. Again, it was a combination of this house I’m in now with the PNG environment mingled in. My kids were all around and they were young. They were playing around in the water and floaties and their toys were scattered around our front porch. It was such a happy scene and a pleasant memory of sunny days gone by.

The river was about 20-30 feet away from our front steps and the level was high, so I kept an eye on it. The strong current reminded me of Bisorio or the mighty Sepik at flood stage. Come to think of it, I couldn’t see the opposite bank. Suddenly I noticed that the swirling eddies were lapping into the kids’ play area right near us, and picking up items like a raft and some toys and taking them out! One by one things were being pulled away, and to my horror, my little babies were out there floating on innertubes, oblivious to what was happening! Hurry! I was trying to point out the dangers and get everyone to understand that we need to get to safety.

Again, it seemed everyone was just standing around watching it, but they were all motionless. Why? Why doesn’t anyone do anything?

I woke up just as some of the larger things like an empty raft were being lost downriver, well beyond our reach. I felt like everything was going to be lost and it would be too late to recover.

Hmmm. Isn’t it interesting the similarities here? Whether by fire or flood, there is clear danger and a real threat of losing everything. Am I anxious about losing the house? Am I afraid about not being able to warn or protect the ones I love? Or, does it come down to a deeper spiritual significance about the coming end times? I do think this explains my urgent passion to share Christ while there is still time.

There's no doubt, we all see the signs of the end and sense that it is fast approaching. As these dreams so vividly portrayed, the very paint is peeling and the angry tide is rising. Current events are swirling around us every day and we know our enemy isn't sleeping.

It's interesting that both dreams started with good intentions and happy times. There were warm fires and playful kids, but in both scenarios we were oblivious to encroaching dangers. Then there was an inability to respond or hear the warnings until it was too late. What a dreadful situation!

Let us not grow weary! Remember that we have the life raft, but let's not hog it to ourselves. Whether people listen OR NOT we have a job to warn people. The TIME IS SHORT.

It always amazes me how very real a dream can seem. Like an internal flight simulator, you feel like you’re right there, and your mind's eye is being impacted by the visions. The emotions can carry you away just like the current of that high river and you can be transported to another time and place. When you wake up your pulse is racing, your clothes are sweaty, and your mind is far away. It's as though you really did go there and travel in your spirit. It reminds me of the astral projection I tried in Alaska. The experiences seem so real. Of course when I woke up each time I asked the Lord to reveal to me, why am I dreaming such things? And the best I can tell you is that I believe God wants me to write these things down for you, whoever you may be.

I know the Word teaches that God uses dreams to speak to us. Sometimes it's baffling, sometimes it's obvious, but these visions knit themselves to my inner memories, and I really believe God wants to use them to spur me (and hopefully you) to action.

Lord God, teach me what you want me to learn or do. I am meeting so many people each day who are listening and responding, spiritually hungry, yet there are some, even within my own family, who are unaware of the impending danger and unfamiliar with your voice.

I pray, Lord, open our eyes and our hearts before it is too late! Grant that your people would be sensitive to the opportunities and open doors around us and give us boldness to teach what we know to be true, in Jesus' Name.

++++++++++++++

The lesson of these visions actually boils down to a simple one, and not just for me, but I believe it is for the church here in New England, and beyond. The combination of cultures and places gave these dreams a universal feel and I believe there is a universal message here that fully agrees with the Scripture.

The fire and the flood are coming and time is short. We the church need to keep warning people! We can’t just keep going about our business watching the kids swim or enjoying the heat of our fires, but keeping an eye on the surrounding temperatures and the escalating currents against us. There is danger lapping at our very shores and approaching our very doorsteps. We must quickly deliver the water and words of life.

Lord God, give us awareness of the urgency and boldness in the face of trouble. Grant us wisdom, eyes of discernment to see what's happening around us, even beyond our shores. Give us the confidence of a lion and the gentleness of a lamb. Make your people strong to the glory of our Captain and our Master, Jesus.

And, if for some reason, you are reading this and you do not know the words of Jesus or what he did for you by taking your place on the cross, I pray for you right now. Ask him to show you the truth about these things. Believe me, he will. He will hear your prayer and forgive your sins whether you feel like you deserve it or not.

Don’t let the life raft drift away beyond your reach. Grab onto it and get wisdom with all your getting as the Psalmist wrote. Jesus is alive! He is willing to forgive and impart real spiritual life, but you have to ask. No one can do it for you.

For everyone who calls upon the Name of the Lord shall be saved.
Romans 10:13

+++++++++++++++++++

Hungry for Blood

2007-02-24T05:37:00.000-08:00

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.

Mozees are hungry for blood, relentlessly seeking a warm body on which to prey. Those pesky varmints would march out in full force no matter what the obstacles. We used to burn stinky coils, use lotions and sprays, and swat at them with little straw brooms. 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 also need blood to survive. 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 to be covered by the blood of a sinless 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. We need to seek Him and receive forgiveness or we will not survive.

Uncomfortable Places or Thoughts on Chrysallis House

2007-02-18T20:28:00.000-08:00

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.

+++++++++++

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?

2007-02-11T14:29:00.000-08:00

"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.

+++++++++

Dreams

2007-02-10T17:48:00.000-08:00

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!

++++++++++++

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?

+++++++++++++++++++

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

2007-02-08T16:41:00.000-08:00

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.

++++++++++++++++++

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

(as recorded in the last words of Matthew)

++++++++++++++++++

On Untimely Death and the Best of Days

2007-02-07T14:22:00.000-08:00

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!

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Who am I?

2007-02-06T19:28:00.000-08:00

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!

2007-02-06T17:25:00.000-08:00

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

2007-02-04T20:08:00.000-08:00

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.

DEFROCKED: A COUPLE OF FALLEN SAINTS

2007-01-23T22:48:00.000-08:00

Friday night I met a girlfriend at a local pub restaurant and we sat at the bar to eat supper since the place was so packed. We got corner seats, which seemed far better than a 45-minute wait at the freezing doorway.

By the time dinners arrived we were deep into conversation, comparing notes on life in general since we lost our husbands. You know, how little we cook, how much we clean, and how many odd things around the house betray the lack of a man’s strong hands and know-how. So much has changed!

Our Asian waitress joined the conversation every once in awhile. I recognized her from a previous visit in early autumn when I came in for a hot bowl of soup. So we started calling each other ‘soup’ and even as it got late she’d ask if I still wanted some.

Gradually, she found time to share her story, beginning in a crowded Korean orphanage where she was sickly and riddled with health problems. Eventually, she was adopted by Americans. Her surroundings may have improved but she grew up without ever knowing her natural family. She was the only Asian in her school. Ouch. It seemed to make sense how she had developed a toughness on the exterior, but remained a little girl on the inside. And now this little girl is a mommy of a two-year-old.

Then we started talking about the Lord. She was raised Catholic, but admits that she doesn’t go to church anymore. There’s a huge gap between religion and a true relationship with a person named Jesus, I said. He never changes and never forsakes you. And so the question revolved around what religion do we believe and who can we trust?

That’s when my girlfriend rolled her eyes and said that the Catholic Church has even changed the status of some of the saints she used to trust in. Some of the ancient saints had actually lost their titles! I couldn’t believe my ears. WHAT on earth could a bunch of dead guys have done to lose their sainthood?! I hollered. Even from heaven they have somehow fallen from grace? I suppose somewhere on the seven hills of Rome someone decided they were no longer worthy.

Imagine the shock to millions of parishioners around the globe who have spent a lifetime praying to St. Anthony every time they lose something, and to St. Christopher every time they go somewhere! No longer saints?

Honestly, I had a hard enough time with the whole concept of praying to dead people anyway, but this really pushes the limit. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I’ve read the Bible through and through dozens of times and have never seen a bit about the church’s ability to DE-SAINT anybody after they’ve gone to heaven! This is truly a far stretch from Biblical doctrine. The only ones cast out of heaven were Lucifer and a third of the angels.

In fact, what Scripture does say plainly is that it is appointed unto man once to die and then comes judgment (Hebrews 9:27). There’s nothing about purgatory either. And certainly nothing, nada, zip about priests praying for the dead on our behalf to get them out of there! God’s judgment is final, much as the flesh and carnal man hates to admit it. We still somehow like to think that we can do something to change God’s mind or bend the rules.

I admit, I wasn’t raised Catholic and I don’t know all that much about all their contrived systems. But as I said, I’ve studied Scripture for years and these are foreign concepts. I can only hope that people who are exposed to these customs will take the time to acquaint themselves with the Word of God itself where matters of heaven are concerned and their own souls are at stake.

Once again, it seems the church has overstepped its rightful bounds. Why, they would even reach into heaven and pull people down if they could! How can mere mortals take on so much? It is more than they ought. God alone is judge and keeper of heaven. It angers me to no end that people are swallowing such philosophies and judgments hook line and sinker in ignorance of the teachings of Christ.

My own mother was discouraged from reading the Bible because she was told frankly that she couldn’t understand it without a priest. Then in the church services everything was spoken in Latin, so there was not much help there. What a shame that people are being duped into believing that only a priest can know God and then dole him out in little pez dispensers for all us fools.

No, there’s a lot of ritual, robes and incense in grand cathedrals around the world. There may be sacred music and tradition galore, but Jesus doesn’t need these things to reveal himself or to sup with the likes of common men and women. He that believes is born of the spirit and has life everlasting, (John 3:15-16) regardless of what anyone else says. God says so, and that’s good enough for me.

Not only can we speak with him and hear his voice and enjoy his presence forever, but all who believe in Christ are saints, which literally means, set apart for him. It stems from the word sanctified, such as the temple vessels intended to serve his purposes. Aren’t we, who are inhabited by his spirit, his vessels on earth?

Yes, the robes and externals are unnecessary. We are completely outfitted from the inside out. And that includes all who believe in the Name of Jesus. As Peter teaches us, “His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature…”

And the best part? He doesn’t change his mind from year to year. Just as the so-called Italian prophet Malachi wrote, “I the Lord do not change.” (I’m teasing of course. Malachi was a Jewish Prophet and his is the last book of the Old Testament.) Thank God that his holiness and his standards of right and wrong, his forgiveness, and the status we receive as his sons and daughters, do not shift like passing shadows.

“God is not a man, that he should lie, nor a son of man, that he should change his mind.Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill?” (Numbers 23:19) And again, in I Samuel 15:29, “He who is the Glory of Israel does not lie or change his mind; for he is not a man, that he should change his mind." What has he to gain by deception anyway? His light is pure and constant and strong. He can be trusted and his word never fails.

Most importantly, my sainthood status is irrevocable according to the One who called me and gave me life. Romans 11:29 assures us of that. And “Rejoice that your names are written in heaven,” the Lord told his disciples in Luke 10:20. It seems astounding that any earthly regime presumes to have the power to eradicate those registered by the angels in God’s heavenly record. The audacity!

Peter also testifies that we were redeemed not by perishable things such as gold or silver, but with the precious blood of Christ. (I Peter 1:18-19) Does this mean nothing to the pompous hierarchy of worldy religion in all their gilded mansions? Can any earthly figure uncover me from the effect of Christ’s blood? What I have received by faith is mine forever. A favorite and powerful portion of Romans makes this evident:

“Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died-more than that, who was raised to life-is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?... No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Rom 8:33-39

Millions around the world have found the truth in the Word of God, regardless of what the self-proclaimed authorities have pronounced to their followers. Unfortunately, they are the blind leading the blind, just like Jesus said.

The trouble is that the vast majority don’t know the Word of God. They have no foundation to stand on, nothing to compare to, and they are easily misled. In these last days it is more critical than ever that people seek God and find true faith.

Before I take leave of all my rantings tonight, I have to pose one final thought. Do you know who agrees with me? For starters, there’s a couple of guys named Anthony and Christopher who are nodding their heads somewhere in glory where they are enjoying the full status of their redemption and sainthood.

We can lose a lot of things--our keys, our cars, our house, even our husband. But when it comes to our position in heaven, all I can say is thank God that some things cannot be changed.

Moulting: A Time for Renewal

2007-01-22T17:24:00.000-08:00

As I was getting dressed the other morning I heard a preacher mention the eagle of Isaiah 40:31. He was talking about renewal, and the eagle as a prime example. I've loved eagles for many years so this caught my attention, but I had never heard this particular aspect before. This truly amazed me.

Do you know what eagles do? They go into a cave somewhere and knock their beaks off! Then they lose their feathers.

It was a freezing morning, made worse by the fact that my furnace had gone out the night before. So I was skipping around from the shower to the bureau, looking for my warmest wool socks and sweaters. All this seemed to exaggerate the images that danced in my jumpy brain. What DOES an eagle look like without its beautiful feathers or a beak? I wondered. Eeeeuuuw, how horrible! What a ghastly disfiguration of such a glorious creature! Another shiver sent me hobbling for my boots.

Can you imagine a creature that knocks off its own beak? Wow, this is much more than any moulting I’ve ever heard of. What an unusual process! I wonder how it happens. Do they fast until the new beak is strong? Isn’t nature interesting? Eventually, after all the agony and losses, they emerge like new! It may take years, but they are totally remade.

As a writer, teacher or speaker, I was momentarily stunned. When the Lord impresses such an image on my heart, I have to mull it over for hours or days. It’s apt to come back to me for months and years in fact.

Lord, what would that be compared to in my life? Is it about the need for silence? Is it like John the Baptist’s father who was struck mute for 9 months because he didn’t believe your word? Is it about a time for finding a cave to grieve and to be renewed from the inside out?

Doesn’t this image lend new meaning to the familiar verse, “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings as eagles.” I haven't ever really thought about the fact that those wings are made up of brand new feathers.

I looked it up on the web and read the following: “When eagles reach a certain old age, they go through a moulting process. They tear out their feathers one by one. Knock its talons and beak against rocks to break them and then they go to a solitary place in the mountain to wait for the sun's rays to heal it.”

"Feathers are what makes birds unique in the animal world. They are used for camouflage, advertising, waterproofing and of course without them a bird would be unable to fly.

Wings must be able to spread, fold, flap and twist. Flight feathers provide an unbroken surface which when flapped, acts as a resistance against the air allowing the bird to lift. The speed, angle of the wings and position of the flight feathers decides how fast or maneuverable the bird can be.

Feathers have a limited life as they wear out and need to be replaced. Old ones fall out and new ones grow in a process called moulting. All raptors moult, this normally occurs once a year, after the breeding season. Some birds such as eagles can take as long as three years to complete the moult, depending on the bird’s general condition."

I always figured that moulting was about the wings. But what about that beak? And how about those talons, so necessary to their survival?

This really made me think about the comparisons to my own life. This whole process of renewal seems to touch every aspect of life.

My own moulting…
On January 10th the kids and I all drove down to beautiful Wellfleet and we had a personal memorial for Frank. We have marked the first year without him. Even as I write those words, it feels oddly ill expressed. It feels so much longer--maybe five years since I’ve been with him… since life felt normal.

Yes, I feel like I have no talons or feathers. No balance, no strength to fly, nor ability to hunt. Even my beak has been altered. Ever since, I’ve been trying to emerge, but I have no lift.

At times, I have felt stronger. Surges of independence have brought me through a lot. I’ve traveled, taught, made my way back into an office and out into a community of study groups, church life and various classrooms. I even got an annual physical and dental checkup this month. (Good girl, huh, finally trying to take care of herself.) I’m taking vitamins, exercising and starting to force myself to get to bed by midnight.

Well, maybe one a.m.

Two for sure, and it’s lights out.

On a deeper level, almost verging on some psychological disorder, I’ve been going through everything, repossessing my own territory since the kids moved out. Organizing my whole life and household has been my aim. Is it a carry-over from Mom or is it the attempt to dominate my surroundings and control what I cannot change? Have I been duped into thinking that I can’t really write, I can’t move on, until I have everything in its place in perfect order? The War of Art brilliantly addresses this kind of dementia. Oh, I despise my own methods!

The entrapments of the mind are so cunning. In fact, funny thing, I read the Yellow Wallpaper tonight and related more than I’d care to admit to the progressions and digressions of a lonely heart. I also read a collection of essays by authors on writing from your life that really moved me. Especially Why I Write by a woman (Joan Didier?) who described how differently she views the world around her. How the peripheral consumes her. How she dabbled at the intellectual pursuits but never felt at home there. How she tried for years to fit into the collegiate mindset but took years to discover who she really was—a writer! I loved it. At last, I thought, here’s someone who truly understands my crazy brain. I should read that at the next writers’ group.

Yes, I’m going through a lot of motions and sometimes don’t feel much at home here anymore. Kinda like an eagle in a cave. Yes, that’s it exactly.

I toggle back and forth. Independence, strength and surges of minor victories are interspersed with the frightening reality. Sometimes I feel like I’m coming apart and am at great risk of destruction and homelessness. There’s no money coming in and yet the bills routinely flood my little mailbox. I don’t know how I’m going to survive. Eagles don’t belong in caves, do they. What am I doing here, really?

Yes, this image really fits me right now. I’ve found my cave and have been smacking off my beak.. My feathers have fallen off and the God of heaven is recreating me. There is frightful ugliness with a featherless creature. Awful, unsightly tears and raw sorrow.

Someday, maybe there will be the glorious season of taking flight again. Is there anything so breathtaking as a mighty eagle leaping from the mountain peaks and gracefully soaring over the heights?

I can’t wait!

My God, I need you Lord! I need your wisdom, direction and blessing. Lord, you made me different the first time around and now you are RE-making me. Show me your plan heavenly Father. Show me how to make my life work in the way that you intended!

Make 2007 the year of renewal and mounting up over obstacles for this bare and beakless eagle. Amen.

My Mother's Birthday

2007-01-20T20:55:00.000-08:00

Januray 19th

Today was my mother’s birthday. Let’s see. She would have turned 81 today. Wow. That’s really hard to believe.

Instead, she has been enjoying glory for 26 years now. I wonder if she was one of the ones who met Frank when he arrived a year ago. I wonder what 26 years in glory feels like.

I've really missed knowing her, my dad, and all my grandparents. But it’s good to remember.
Life is short.

Mom was so brave and courageous. It warms my heart to know that this dear faithful woman was covered by God’s grace and received by him in the end.

Dear Lord, I thank you for such a wonderful mother. She was an example of goodness and uprightness who gave herself to her family unselfishly. Thank you for her life and all her hard work. Thank you for her songs and laughter. Thank you for the role model she was to us. Lord Jesus, would you tell her happy birthday from me tonight? Amen.

Gleaning Sticks and Leaning Flowers

2007-01-20T17:40:00.000-08:00

I have to take a few minutes to record a couple wonderful moments of inspiration that came at those silent unexpected times in the last twenty-four hours.

Yesterday afternoon the sun came out and I bundled up and went out back for a few loads of firewood. I also scoured the grounds to fill my big clay pot of kindling. Hard enough to start my smokey fires with all this damp wood, I thought. I need some good dry sticks.

It felt almost like a spring day. Birds had come out to chirp after all the freezing weather we’ve had. This was an interlude of calm. As I lingered to collect my little harvest of fallen branches and twigs, the simple task suddenly filled me with gratitude.

Here I am, a widow, gathering what I need to make fire and I felt such a kinship with humanity. For centuries people have had to hunt and scrounge for firewood like this. How good of God to bring so much of it down for us. He provides food for the sparrows and his eye is on me too. I remembered the old hymn and the deep base voice of the man who sang that in church one Sunday when we were in boot camp.

I paused and looked around. The storms and high winds of recent days had brought down handfuls of broken bits and pieces. Just what I needed! Ha! Yet another of the many ways my God transforms in nature and in my own life.

Nothing is wasted in God’s economy. What may seem to be the worthless waste of a previous storm provides the warmth of a crackling fire on a bitter night.

He takes the bruises and the losses of my own limbs, and generates new passion, new hope and renewed life.

I just stood there with an armful of kindling and smiled up at the warm sun in a moment of pure worship. I marveled at the wisdom of the fallen twigs.

Then I was tidying up in the living room where I’ve planted a couple little bulbs of daffodils for my annual memorial of the great epiphany of 2006. What a joy to find the delicate yellow flowers opening and standing proudly on the coffee table at the center of the room.

They are all lined up like happy children, facing the afternoon sun out my western picture window. As if to mirror that stunning golden light, they add such refreshing color and beauty to the middle of this winter season.

Make me like one of these Lord.
Enable me to stand and mirror your love and beauty.

Interestingly, last week I was also moved by the occasion to splurge on a bunch of yellow tulips for myself. I arranged them in the wide glass vase with my bamboo and hoped as much of them, to brighten the room and fill me with delight.

But for some reason they did not hold as strong as the daffodils. By comparison, their stems seemed weak and the heads were drooping. I changed and fertilized the water, hoping to give them a boost, but realized that if I didn’t prop them up a little, they probably wouldn’t recover.

I frowned. These buds are much bigger, but it's only been a week and they’re sagging down to the table. What’s wrong with you guys? I asked, carrying the vase to the kitchen for some extra nursing. I rinsed and trimmed them up. As I was placing the stems across stronger ones, leaning them on one another and across the sturdiest portions, they seemed to say, ‘we all need support at times.’

Hoo boy. Another great reminder. Families. Friends. Churches. Neighbors. Although God can easily redeem every circumstance and provide for our individual needs as with the fallen twigs, we are not meant to stand alone. God placed us in groups and there are times when we need to lean on each other a little harder.

This is not a journey of one, but the Lord is at work in the body and we are all interwoven into one great universal story of redemption.

Collectively we reveal the fullness of his grace. Make us stand together Lord. The church is your prize, like a trophy of grace on your mantel.

My Broken Bracelet - the Saga Continues

2007-01-20T17:07:00.000-08:00

I just met a woman who had been on the brink of such despair that she had considered taking her own life. Funny thing. I could understand it.

She actually thought that if she were out of the way, as she put it, she could leave more money to her kids. Things have been tough ever since the divorce. She was forced to sell her four-bedroom home and now is looking for another place to live. How will she make ends meet? My heart went out to this dear mother in all that she's gone through.

Thank God, we were led together and the Lord brought us into such sweet conversation. He wanted me to share the bracelet story with her right there at the kitchen counter.

Well, we were able to spend about an hour together, the bulk of which was focused on the beauties of Psalm 23, using my newly reconstructed bracelet! (Good thing my friend fixed it for me just the day before!)

At one point she got so excited to hear what I was saying that she stood up with her hand on her heart and her mouth wide open! I always felt that Psalm 23 was moving, and there’s even a book which I love called, Psalm 23, Song of a Passionate Heart, but for a moment I was afraid she would have a heart attack right then and there!

It was clear that God was moving, speaking, touching her heart. And right in the middle of it another new lesson emerged. In light of her attempts to rebuild her life for the last 3 years, I could see that God wanted me to deliver a particular message to this dear woman. He alone is the One she needs to reconstruct her life. He is able to heal and mend and restore her completely.

I suddenly realized why my bracelet broke--so that my friend could lovingly restring it and illustrate God's healing power.

He seeks and finds every lost piece, and every lost soul. He values each one like a precious pearl and He makes all things new! Praise the Name of our Loving Savior!

Is your life in disarray? Are the pieces hard to find and even harder to put back in order?

Ask the Lord. He specializes in things thought impossible.

The Bracelet: crystal beads and blueberries

2007-01-13T23:41:00.000-08:00

January 13, 2007

When I was with the women of Medway at a weekend retreat in Newport last spring, we made bead bracelets that were strung to match the verses of Psalm 23. At first I didn’t like the odd pattern and mix of browns and pink, blue and gold. I couldn’t detect an order or system and it seemed too random.

Then I grew to love it and found it a useful tool for teaching others about the lessons of God’s incredible presence through the hard times. On planes, in stores, with the girls in lock-up, it came in handy time and time again... until I lost it.

I checked everywhere. Coat pockets, purse pockets, pants pockets, and desk drawers. What did I do? Granted, I had flown across country and spoken to hundreds and thousands of people. I had been seated on four planes and covered a lot of ground in that span. I finally gave up the search and decided, maybe it will turn up one of these days.

I was so sad I eventually contacted a friend from Medway to see if she knew where I could get another one. Well, it so happens Sue had more beads. Not only so, but she strung up a beautiful bracelet and gift-wrapped it for me! Wow. I was humbled and amazed. This one was even more beautiful then the first. I love it. I started wearing it every day and in fact, didn’t even take it off my wrist anymore... until last Tuesday.

I was rushing around all day, errands, calls, appointments… I was rushing out of the dentist’s office to get to the office and while pulling out of the parking lot juggling my cell phone and talking to a prospective buyer for Medway, I noticed an elderly gentleman standing behind the car. He wanted the number from my for sale sign. Somehow, I managed to continue the phone conversation, waving at the old man while twirling the steering wheel, when my bracelet must have caught on something. Suddenly, I felt a sharp tug.

Before I even knew what caused it, the twelve-pound wire snapped right off my wrist and beads flew through the car! I was sick to my stomach as I saw only a thin wire with a clasp dangling from my wrist. Beads were dribbling down the seat and into the console and around my boots. Ugh. I kept up the conversation with my client, but I wanted to scream.

Later on I got up the courage to email Sue again. And would you believe, that dear gracious woman offered to make yet another bracelet for me. Like an addict needing another fix, I said, but I would be happy to pay this time. We arranged to meet this afternoon.

Fortunately it was light enough to search the car, under the seats, through the console and even in the doors. I kept running my hands under the seats hoping for crystal beads, but instead finding a curious collection of little black rocks. After gathering a small handful, I looked harder at them. WHAT are these things? Suddenly it dawned on me. These are the dried blueberries from October, 2004! I couldn’t believe it. Tears started instantly and my throat went dry as it dawned on me what I now held in the palm of my hand.

Coming home from Wellfleet with Frank a few years ago, he was holding a bag of fresh blueberries. I was driving, and we were listening to an old Chicago CD as we watched the scenery along the harbor. That’s when I noticed Frank was having a seizure. Blueberries were flying around in the car. I never knew so many had rolled under the seats, but I never would have found them if that bracelet hadn’t snapped. Of course it’s not the seizure I want to recall, but this last wonderful trip together, the music, and the ocean scenery at one of our favorite spots on earth.

Wow. I was hunting high and low for crystal beads to signify lessons learned. Instead my scouring hands came upon the dried fruit of meaningful memories together with Frank. Both are significant to me. These things are physical reminders that trigger the mind’s own media replay, but lessons learned and meaningful memories live on in the internal storehouse called the soul. Thank God
that some things that cannot be lost!

Now I have added to the box of sand that I scooped up in Wellfleet. This will be my memory box now. The ashes have been returned to the sea he loved. I have Wellfleet sand, a few shells, cards from all of us in the family to Frank, and now the blueberries. The Lord be praised. We had a wonderful life! And now, there is a precious handful of precious berries to symbolize the sweet and lasting fruit of a life well spent.

Getting to back to why I was hunting in the first place, the whole incident seemed like a test to me. Did I really KNOW the order of all those multi-colored beads? Had I really learned the lovely and timeless words of David’s Psalm 23?

As I scavenged every nook and cranny, I prayed. Oo, there’s no blue bead. Lord, I need still waters! Oh no, the green one’s gone. Lord please, don’t let me miss the green pastures! Each one represents part of the awesome presence and provision of God. From anointing oil to a cup that overflows, God generously and tenderly meets our every need. As I pulled out each precious piece of this shepherd's song, I embraced its beautiful and inspired message. He leads, restores, guides, nourishes, corrects and uplifts me. His love and mercy follow me forever and in the end--yes, the glorious end of the story is already written!--I will be with him forever, living in his house!
Well, I found every single bead and silver separator and had them restrung thanks to Sue. Yay! But something still bothered me about this bracelet breaking into a million pieces. Why, of all the few things that I really cherish and savor, would the first one be stolen or lost and the second one literally explode off my body? (I still can’t for the life of me figure out what pulled it off around the steering wheel.) Lord, what are you trying to teach me through this? It’s as though the devil delights to rip me off. His aim would be to rip me off of God’s very presence and joy if he could! Clearly, he wants to disarm me of a great message.

Just now as I was writing this, two college girls walked by the big store front window and met my eyes, and smiled. How sweet. I must have looked like I was taking an exam, I mused. My searching countenance also broke into a happy smile.

The Lord Jesus smiles too. Then I felt his calming assurance. Karen, that bracelet is meaningful to you because of the lessons you learned in the valley. No matter how dark it gets, know that I am still here, unchanged and undaunted by anything the devil does. And remember to live for the fruit that lasts for all eternity.

Yes, Lord. Thank you that no devil can rip your presence away from me. None can steal it. Nothing this world has to offer can squelch your glory. Nothing can destroy or obliterate or conquer your Spirit. Let grace abound and overflow in my life no matter what!

Impress these truths on my heart forever, where no thief can steal and no earthly forces tear them away.

Don’t sit on your hands!

2007-01-13T22:51:00.000-08:00

It's Saturday morning and here I sit, at my favorite corner table at Barnes. I'm facing out to the rainy parking lot and busy sidewalk with a nice cup of green tea.

We just had our first writers’ group meeting of the year and I'm so glad that I didn’t cancel it--though it crossed my mind. Now I have two glorious hours to read and write and just reflect on what the Lord did this morning.

We had a great time of sharing—no, commiserating is more like it. When people ask me how my book's coming along, I often say that I feel like I've been pregnant with a breach baby for about ten years. When will I go into labor? Oh, if only there was a way to schedule a C-section on this child and deliver!

Truth is, none of us are writing as much as we feel we should. It’s like a disease, and so often misunderstood. With it is the guilt of not tending to other responsibilities, the never-ending work and calendar events… ahh me. We will never have it the way we want it seems.

So the timing was perfect this morning to be directed to a tremendous book that was given to Gail for the holidays. I’m going to suggest that everyone in the group get and read it so we can discuss at the next couple of meetings. It is called The War of Art by Steven Pressfield, author of The Legend of Bagger Vance and other highly reputed works (recommended reading at Oxford and so forth)… such as Gates of Fire and Tides of War, which I should probably read. Being right there at the store I was able to walk up to the main desk and order 6 copies on the spot, and purchase the one on the shelf for me.

After the others left, I couldn't wait to dive into it. I quickly drank up a third of it and you see how it has affected me. Here I am now, writing! It is such a healthy kick in the pants and just what the doctor ordered. I heartily recommend it for anyone who feels a special calling on their life.

Besides sharing from our personal lives and actual stories, I shared a mini devotional on Ephesians 4, which interestingly enough had a triple whammy effect on me this morning.

While I was exercising I heard Pastor Jimenez bellowing, ‘Don’t sit on your hands’. What an interesting rebuke to a writer, I thought. Since I was in the middle of doing my push-ups, my eyes rested on my hands. Where would I be without my hands? And, what good are your hands if you're sitting on them? On the other hand (ha, pun intended) what power and potential lies within our own fingertips!

I showered, dressed and came down to the office. I've been reading the Message version of the New Testament lately and opened to the page where I left off. Quite unexpectedly, I came across the same exact phrase in Eph 4! In fact, the whole section relates beautifully to the writers’ group. Here are the outstanding excerpts:

“In light of all this, here’s what I want you to do… I want you to get out there and walk—better yet, run!—on the road God called you to travel. I don’t want any of you sitting around on your hands. I don’t want anyone strolling off, down some path that goes nowhere. And mark that you do this with humility and discipline—not in fits and starts, but steadily, pouring yourselves out for each other in acts of love…

You were all called to travel on the same road and in the same direction, so stay together… God and Father of all who rules over all works through all and is present in all…. But that doesn’t mean you should all look and speak and act the same.

Out of the generosity of Christ, each of us is given his own gift…. prophet, evangelist, and teacher… His very breath and blood flow through us, nourishing us so that we will grow up healthy in God, robust in love.”
Eph 4:1-16

As if that isn’t enough, would you believe that when I got into the car my New Testament CD came in at exactly the same passage! Wow, God is telling me, don’t sit on your hands! Write kid, write! Now is the time! Use your gifts! What a holy calling!

Dear Lord, how I praise you, Creator of the Universe who hung the stars upon nothing. You are the God of the impossible. I was telling the ladies about the lesson of the fig (mouni) tree in Aumi. Remember how I looked outside my bathroom window in tears one day complaining to you about the impossible tasks. You listened patiently, waiting for me to notice the astounding lollypop fruit budding out from the wooden branches. No leaves, no buds, just fruit emerging straight out of the woody sticks!

Wow! I will never forget the sense of wonder and amazement I felt at seeing that for the first time—really seeing it-- even though we had lived there for years already! The landscape hadn’t changed. I just needed my eyes to be open. I am the God of the impossible, you said in my heart. If I can do this, I can do what needs to be done in your life too.

Oh yes, Lord, YOU flow through my veins and pump through this little vessel to produce what pleases you.

Forgive me Father for sitting on my hands for so long. By your great grace Lord, lead me on!

My Humpty Dumpty Life

2006-12-31T20:34:00.000-08:00

Quiet Despair can become a Quilt to Share

Have you ever felt like your life was in a state of disrepair? I have. At times I've felt like Humpty Dumpty who’s fallen off the wall. Not even king’s men can put me back together. I am irreparably broken in many ways.

This is why I was so glad to have been invited to attend a women’s retreat at a historic church in Medway recently. Many of the women brought treasured family quilts which were displayed around the sanctuary and hung from all the balconies. A booklet was made describing the various themes and motifs and telling the peculiar stories of each piece.

Following a hot breakfast buffet, Mary got up and introduced the event with a short devotional that instantly found its mark in my heart and brought tears to my eyes. She singled out the blue lines used by quilters to hold things in place while the work is in progress. They seem to go nowhere, she said. In fact, to the untrained eye they appear to be aimless stitches--and this is the part that touched me deeply.

Oh Lord, losing a loved one sure seems like a blue line! Being left without my husband surely seems like aimless stitches in the pattern of my life. I had been quietly wrestling with the senselessness and meaningless in my life, not understanding where these lines have been drawn. Tears warmed my face as I gave it all to Him again.

The speaker continued. The Quilter, as master craftsman, chooses not only the pattern, but every color, every shape, and he creates his own story. He knows exactly what he's doing.

And then it gets even more interesting. When the work is finished, these blue lines can come clean out with cold water! She used this to parallel God's cleansing forgiveness and spirit of restoration. He has the power to remove all the pain, to heal all wounds and cleanse every part of our lives.

Interestingly, she noted that hot water would have the adverse affect and set the stains. The Spirit within whispered that this is what hardness of heart does, if we remain unyielding and unrelenting. We can avail ourselves of his power or we can hold onto the past with unforgiveness or bitterness of spirit. The choice is ours. One thing is certain, those blue lines will wreck the final pattern of our lives if we let them.

Afterwards, an author named Lucinda McDowell also spoke around the appointed theme of quilting. As I sat in one of the back pews, I was deeply moved by this amazing metaphor. It suddenly struck me that this is exactly how I’ve been feeling about my own life, so greatly fragmented into so many small pieces. Like an impossible and unfinished quilt pattern, I should be boxed up into someone’s attic.

Like a scattered mix of rags, a pile of worthless bits and senseless pieces, I had been feeling like my own life is in such disarray. I've been asking the Lord to order my steps and direct my path. I have so many areas of need, such varied interests, so much unfinished business, and an emptiness that gnaws away in the quiet moments. Where is my life going now? What's the plan? I look ahead at the expanse of time and wonder if I will ever see my goals and dreams to completion. I look at the heaps of scraps and feel the weight of the work to be done pressing on my shoulders. Sometimes it all feels like such hopeless confusion.

Yet, when I turn to the Lord who made me and brought me this far, a sense of peace warms my soul. This too is beyond comprehension. In fact, Scripture calls it "a peace that passes understanding."

I may be too close to the miniscule stitching, my eyes may be dizzy with overlapping squares, but he readily sees the whole pattern. He alone knows the intricate details of all that He has designed for me, and he knows the full potential and the final outcome of all that he wants to do.

The speaker made great spiritual applications from the whole quilting process which the Spirit took and applied to me in the hushed congregation. This is what he pressed home to me.

The Lord my Master sees the potential in every piece, no matter how small, how ordinary, or how painful. He uses everything, including our failures, mistakes, our sorrows, and especially the things I don't understand. Lastly, God completes the pattern, though we may not see it as we like or when we want. We simply have to trust him.

I found it very interesting that the Amish quilters would intentionally ADD mistakes to their work as a reminder, in fact, that only God is perfect. That wouldn't be a problem in my life. There are plenty of reminders of human imperfection here! But that's when it hit me. In God's eyes, those are the very details that will showcase his victory in the end. As the beautiful old song declares, "If there be any praise it will go to Calvary."

Looking around the sanctuary at all the beautiful tapestries, I soaked up the encouragement to the depths of my soul. None of this is too hard for you, my God and maker. You see the whole quilt of my life and know every stitch of it has its time and purpose.

I don't have to worry about being put back together like broken eggshell fragments. What is impossible with men is quite simple to you. For you have taught us:

“My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Is 55:8-9

And so I can say by faith:

“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” Ps 139:14-16

“For you make me glad by your deeds, O LORD; I sing for joy at the works of your hands. How great are your works, O LORD, how profound your thoughts! The senseless man does not know, fools do not understand… But you, O LORD, are exalted forever.” Ps 92:4-8

“Great are the works of the LORD; they are pondered by all who delight in them. Glorious and majestic are his deeds, and his righteousness endures forever.”
Ps 111:2-3

Lead me into this New Year, Heavenly Father. Draw the lines where you please and fit these pieces together according to your perfect design. Lead me by your love because I trust your wisdom. Amen.

The Pursuit of Happiness

2006-12-29T21:45:00.000-08:00

Today is my birthday. Wonderful people send cards and call to say, Happy Birthday. Then of course, we just had Christmas and Chanukkah so we are in the habit of sending cards around the globe to say, Happy Holidays. And next up, we have New Year’s Day so everyone you meet says, Happy New Year’s. Well, what does it take to be happy? Is this something we can conjure up at will or command for certain days of the year? Is happiness in our control at all, or is just something to be wished for and doled out for good measure to all our friends and loved ones? I think not.

I look around, either at the faces at the Salvation Army kitchen, or on the streets around me and realize how weak and hollow the words can sound. With all this happy talk I can’t help but think it’s not enough. We can’t drum it up no matter how hard we try. All our words fall far short of creating even an ounce of happiness. In fact, it’s a well known fact that there are more suicides at this festive time of year than at any other. So much for the convincing power of all this happy talk. It seems we only achieve a heightened awareness of how UNhappy we are!

Last night I went out to dinner and a movie with a dear friend. We saw the Pursuit of Happiness, a true story about homelessness and the family struggles that bring a young father and his son into the streets. Ha, it sounds depressing, but it was so well done and so captivating that in the end it was enheartening. Will Smith did a great job in this sensitive role. You could just feel this father’s frustrations and ache with his drive to succeed for his boy, who was admirably enacted by his real son. The story forces you to probe the meaning of happyness—purposely misspelled--as well as the subject of the worthy pursuits we choose for ourselves.

In a very temporal and immediate sense, I wondered why the Will Smith character chose such a difficult position when his very survival depended on getting an income. Why should a bright young man endure such hardship for a six month internship? He was so capable and driven and certainly could have fit into any industry or field. Aha, I thought, it’s the power of the dream. He had a vision of happiness on the street one day that set him on that chosen course.

That film certainly raised the bar of compassion for those who struggle in the pursuit, a commonality for all of humanity. It also led me to wonder about what it takes for me to be happy and challenged me to persevere for what I believe God wants me to do. This is a fitting time to ask the questions, what do I truly desire? What do I truly need to be happy and fulfilled?

This morning I read some astoundingly beautiful words by a great scholar. CS Lewis wrote, “There have been times when I think we do not desire heaven, but more often I find myself wondering whether, in our heart of hearts, we have ever desired anything else… when at last you meet another human being who has some inkling (but faint and uncertain even in the best) of that something which you were born desiring, and which, beneath the flux of other desires and in all the momentary silences between the louder passions, night and day, year by year, from childhood to old age, you are looking for, watching for, listening for? You have never had it. All the things…have been but hints of it—tantalizing glimpses… echoes that died away… But if it should really become manifest… you would say ‘Here at last is the thing I was made for.’ … It is the secret signature of each soul... which we will still desire on our deathbeds…”

And again he wrote, “The mould in which a key is made would be a strange thing if you had never seen a key: and the key itself a strange thing if you had never seen a lock. Your soul has a curious shape because it is a hollow made to fit a particular swelling in the infinite contours of the divine… All that you are, sins apart, is destined, if you will let God have His good way, to utter satisfaction…. God will look to every soul like its first love because He is its first love. Your place in heaven will seem to be made for you and you alone, because you were made for it—made for it stitch by stitch as a glove is made for a hand.” The Business of Heaven, p.318-319.

The happiness we pursue is a deep-seated contentment and satisfaction with life. I believe the real bedrock and foundation in our souls is a desire for purpose and a conviction of significance that makes us feel complete.

It is a connectedness and meaningfulness that assures us that our lives are not dripping out like a leaky faucet and going down the drain without accomplishing anything of lasting value.

I believe this true happiness comes from knowing the God who created us. He has the mould. He is the true smith of all that we are meant to be. When we link up with Him we find that which nothing else can give and no one can lightly bestow or wish upon us. We can have our deepest desires completely fulfilled in him. The thing that Lewis says we were born desiring, that secret signature of every soul, and that which we will still be yearning for when we take to our deathbeds--All is but a breath away in the one we call Jesus.

I pray you will find him this Christmas Season and I hope you will invite him to lead you into 2007. Then you will have a much better shot at a truly Happy New Year.

“…pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called…” 1 Tim 6:11-12

"Whoever would love life and see good days must keep his tongue from evil and his lips from deceitful speech. He must turn from evil and do good; he must seek peace and pursue it. For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their prayer…” 1 Peter 3:10-12

“…if you seek the LORD your God, you will find him if you look for him with all your heart and with all your soul.” Deut 4:29

“The LORD looks down from heaven on the sons of men to see if there are any who understand, any who seek God.” Ps 14:2

“The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands. And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else. From one man he made every nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us.” Acts 17:24-27

“Seek the LORD while he may be found; call on him while he is near… turn to the LORD, and he will have mercy… and to our God, for he will freely pardon.” Isa 55:6-7

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FEAR FACTOR versus RUBY SLIPPERS

2006-11-15T19:51:00.000-08:00

I woke up recently in a state of panic. I was wondering how long I could hold my breath.

It was a very strange dream. I was watching a boy holding onto a rope underwater, with weights on his feet in a deep pool, like one of those fear factor reality shows that I detest. He was running out of air and needed to come up badly but the weights on his feet were dragging him down. It sure looked like an impossible situation. I was sitting alone, outside the glass tank.

I always change the channel if something like that comes on, but my only option in the dream was to wake up and try to shake it off. So I just lay there for awhile and started praying.

Sometime later, I was scouting around on the web and stumbled across an interesting site on the meanings of dreams. Hmmm. That triggered the vision of that awful night, so I typed in some key words and read this under the section on common nightmares…

To see someone drowning in your dream, suggests that you are becoming too deeply involved in something that is beyond your control. Alternatively, it represents a sense of loss in your own identity. You are unable to differentiate who you are anymore.

Suddenly, I wondered if that’s why I had the dream in the first place! Was it about the conflicts I've been facing over my property? relationships? work? or my seeming inability to write and do ministry fulltime the way I want? There are a number of frustrating questions in my life right now, and situations I can't change. I'm literally fighting town hall and yes, I suppose I feel sorta helpless, like I'm being weighted down.

Sure makes you think. Especially the part about identity and being unable to understand who you are anymore. Now that one makes a lot of sense. For months I've been trying to explain to friends how I feel like a one-legged freak who doesn't know how to stand anymore.

How exactly are you supposed to learn how to live as a widow? How do you revert to being single after so many years? I don't think the same. All my habits and patterns and my whole framework of functioning is accustomed to a dual process. The void is palpable in my mind. Where do you check yourself in for social rehab?

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that I’m feeling helpless, imbalanced, and handicapped in some ways. But that dream emphasized an interesting perspective. Notice that I wasn't the one drowning. Rather, I was the spectator! Maybe that's the writer in me. I'm an observer in my own life. It's as though I'm waiting to see what God will do. Somewhere in there, I still feel safe.

Maybe that's the ultimate in mental release. I was watching through that plate of glass, safely seated on some sort of bleachers. In many ways, I would be unaffected by the outcome of that poor boy, and yet I was involved, and awoke in a nervous sweat to discover it was all just the workings of my mind. And just as easily as the "show" was created and observed through glass, it was halted. All I had to do was open my eyes!

The other night I caught the end of the Wizard of Oz. After all her efforts to find her way back to Kansas, even after killing a wicked witch and risking life and limb, the Good Linda appeared and said that she had the ability all along. She could go home whenever she wished.

"Why didn't you tell her?" the friends demanded to know.

"She had to learn it for herself," she said kindly.

I've always loved the Wizard of Oz, but on this particular night I was taken by that simple lesson. There are some things that we struggle to find, expend great effort and energy trying, and then come to the end of ourselves and realize, poof! It was right there all along.

The power, the promise, the way home, right at our fingertips, or maybe in our ruby slippers.

Dear Lord, maybe one of these days, I'll wake up to find that my reality has changed. The drama and dangers of fear factor victims will be replaced by powerful resources.

Open my eyes to behold your truth. Grant that I realize the inherent power and blessing you've given, rather than dwelling on flying monkeys and black forests. Give me peace amidst apple trees that smack you or the green-faced witches that try to snatch away your puppy.

Guide me on this yellow brick road to the place that I learn what you want me to learn.

Bring me home, dear Lord.

There's no place like home!

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"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world..." 2 Peter 1:3-4

Prison Life

2006-11-15T14:44:00.000-08:00

My grandson’s best buddy from Little Lambs is another very colorful and imaginative little boy. It’s no wonder the two of them are self-proclaimed “best friends for life.”

Last night I heard his parents telling what happened in the rain the other day. They’d had just about enough of the stalling tactics and it was time to put their foot down. "Put your coat on and march STRAIGHT to the car," they demanded. Joel surveyed the situation and said with a huff, “Raining... Marching… I may as well be in PRISON!”

Where would a four-year-old get such an idea? The dad was just shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. His mom remembered having read the Bible story about Paul being in prison and wondered if he just filled in the blanks with an active imagination. Who really knows? The mind of a child is full of surprising things. One thing is certain, no matter how winsome and adorable, every child eventually tries to test the limits.

It’s so cute because we big 'smart people' know that his life is far from the harsh realities of prison life. We smile because he thinks he’s got it bad being made to do something he doesn’t want to do.

But how often do I look at life and do the same thing? Like Joel, I might make radical judments based on a few random observations. I might glance at my circumstances, select a pair of simple problems or events, and then calculate by the same ridiculous formula, saying, one plus one equals prison! I’m not always adding right, because I'm not always seeing right. My vision is skewed and biased. My eyes are weak and self-centered. God, help me to see clearly and to make right deductions.

Jesus, do you laugh and smile at my short-sightedness, or does it make you mad? Do you feel like putting your foot down with me too, Lord? Help me to grow up and to grow wise in the ways that make you proud. Meanwhile, thank you for your incredible patience!

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Consider it pure joy when you face trials because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.
James 1:2-3

In everything give thanks for this is the will of God in Christ concerning you.
I Thes 5:18

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith who... endured the cross... so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
Heb 12:2-3

Is the problem really solved? Or, Pumpkin Heads Part 2

2006-11-15T14:36:00.000-08:00

For anyone who was worried about my recent posting on the plastic pumpkin story, Pumpkin Heads and Silly Putty Comics, here’s a national update from the front page headlines on one of the most popular hits of the day about this true deer incident.

Yes, dear friends, wonder of wonders, he freed himself! All the rain in recent days not only slacked his thirst but apparently helped him out of his predicament. Evidence was reported with glee when some children found the empty pumpkin head on someone's property there in Cascade Township, in Michigan.

So there you have it. In my best Andy Rooney impersonation, I’m telling you, there's one less thing to worry about, one problem solved, here in the USA.

P.S. Deer season will be opening on time later in the week.

I’m asking myself about the comparisons to real life. Am I content to settle for temporal comforts and short-lived solutions when I know I’m going to die?

I'll restate the big silly putty question from my earlier posting on plastic pumpkins: The real question becomes not how do I deal with the temporal veneer before my eyes, but how will I deal when the bullets start flying? I need a survival strategy, not a facelift! Yet, in all our emotional knee-jerk reactions, the real issues are quickly warped. This is a cry for reason.

There is a link on this site to some video footage that will most assuredly put Rudolph right out of business. http://c.moreover.com/click/here.pl?x703495017 It is pitiful to watch, stirring, and maddening all at once. This delicate and free creature is captive to his own mistake.

While I was watching it, I couldn't help but ask myself if there is any resemblance to my own ridiculous life. To all the foolish decisions, silly distractions, and ridiculous situations that divert me from dealing with the eternal.

God, help us to get free of the things that bind us, and to get serious about the real issues of life! Teach me to live in such a way that I don't settle for the immediate or look for temporary solutions, but focus on the lasting and eternal realities. This is a cry for wisdom.

THE REAL PICTURE

2006-11-12T22:09:00.000-08:00

11-12-06

Over a beautiful salmon dinner at my daughter’s house Friday night, Naomi whispered into her son’s ear and he scurried into the bedroom to find a surprise for Nana. To my delight, he reappeared with a picture frame and in it, the smiling so grown-up-looking face of his school picture.

Wow. How does that happen? His hair is long and the curls seemed piled up on top of his head. His hands are folded on his lap and the red and white striped shirt and white collar look so crisp. He’s sitting so tall in the white cane chair and his smile looks so much older than I’ve seen.

Oh my goodness, he looks about six years old already, but he’s just turned four, I exclaimed. Seeing that picture made me realize that time is leaping into the future and this little boy seems half grown already.

Well, something about the way I was carrying on must have seemed ridiculous to him.

With both hands tapping his own chest he said, “Nana, this is the REAL Judah.” And then pointing at the picture frame as though he were teaching a class, he said dramatically, “That’s the fake Judah. See? This one has his mouth open. This one is moving. That one can’t.” And then his expression looked so puzzled and amazed, as though he were waiting for the light bulb to go on in my head. Don’t you get it?

His theatrical voice and cute expressions just made it funnier. I guess what he was trying to ask was, why get so excited about a frozen picture of me when the REAL ME is standing right here? Was he jealous?

I wonder if the Lord feels that way about how we treat him sometimes. We make a fuss over some memory of something he’s done years before and we ignore or miss out on the REAL LIVING JESUS of today! Maybe we settle for a lifeless picture from the past and don’t even recognize his presence or know his voice or understand his moving lips at all? What portrait do I see?

Wouldn’t Jesus want to put his hands on his hips and correct us too? THIS is the real me. See my mouth is open? Do you hear my words? See me moving here in this situation? See me at work in your life? Hey kids, don’t be consumed with fake images. Don’t miss the real picture.

God is alive and yet we treat him like a lifeless thing.

Don’t insult the living God.

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Thou shalt have no other gods before me. Thou shalt have no graven images. I AM the Lord your God. I am a jealous God. - Exodus 20

PUMPKIN HEADS AND SILLY PUTTY COMICS

2006-11-12T17:25:00.000-08:00

I opened MSN.com the other day and was immediately arrested by the following headline:

“Wild deer gets plastic pumpkin stuck on snout! A plastic jack-o'-lantern meant for collecting Halloween candy is threatening the life of a small deer...” http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/15649788/from/ET/

Okay, now tell me why everyone is going to get worked up about this poor animal's trouble, only to free it in time for deer season? They are literally going to worry about that plastic pumpkin, track it down to remove it so the poor deer can have a drink and then turn it loose to become a legal target! Their momentary mercy will only allow it to see better when the hunters start blasting on opening day, right?

Sometimes I just can't stop shaking my head at the way things go. We can't make up our minds between the compassion we wish we had and the harsh realities. Doesn't it seem ridiculous to use tranquilizers just to free its head and then use live ammo to kill it?

I'm not against hunting, nor against eating meat, but I'm rebelling against the craziness of it all. Why does life seem to blur all the lines of reason? Why is it that we run around in circles trying to do something to help and completely miss the point?

This image really struck me. Maybe it's because it is such a pitiful picture of the truth. We should be figuring out how to be saved instead of how to deal with plastic absurdities. Maybe it makes me mad because I feel like that too. So much of life is preoccupied with pumpkins and yet there is a hunter’s rifle awaiting us. Life is so short! There are so many vital issues to consider, but we too easily miss the big picture and end up straddling fences, or losing our way completely. Meanwhile, life hangs in the balance.

The real question becomes not how do I deal with the temporal veneer before my eyes, but how will I deal when the bullets start flying? I need a real survival strategy, not a facelift! Yet, in all our emotional knee-jerk reactions, the real issues are quickly warped. This is a cry for reason.

Don't even get me started on abortion and the three seconds difference we've set between freedom of choice and heinous murder, sucking the brains out of half-born infants so that they can be dismissed from this earth without a voice. It’s wrong, so terribly wrong, and yet it’s the women, the very mothers of this generation, who champion the cause in the name of “freedom” with fervor.

We need clarity and common sense. We need conviction and clear direction on a daily basis. Instead, I have confusion and blurred lines. I have opposition and inner conflict. The things I want to do I don’t seem to get to. The things I don’t want seem to overtake my life and fill my calendar. That's it. I'm that stupid deer and I feel doomed. I’m stuck in many ways.

Life is too full of predicaments. Weird, almost comical, how stuff happens and gets twisted. Things get distorted, blown out of proportion. Like silly putty comics that get stretched beyond recognition. That's been my life lately.

And when facing various troubles I get lonely. It makes me miss Frank all the more. This is a cry for understanding.

There. I just spewed out all my frustrations and it cuts right to the heart of me. As I wrote Frank's name I started crying again. It's hard enough to go through misunderstandings and conflict, but to have to stand up in meetings and public hearings and sort it all out on my own has made it feel so much harder.

I know the Lord knows it all and has promised to be my husband. It just feels so much lonelier now. Come on, who doesn't need a hug at the end of a hard day? I miss hearing Frank’s reassuring words. "It'll be alright honey." You know, all the little things that people do to support each other when the going gets tough. I need his corrective lenses to look at life. I need the balance of his reasonable thoughts. I need his steadiness when life seems to be rocking and rolling. Gosh, he was so steady. I’m an emotional basket case.

I miss him for so many things. So many little, everyday, huge and meaningful things! I miss snuggling on the couch and talking about the day. I miss cooking supper for someone and planning surprises. You know, lifting the lid of the pan and saying "tada!" You don't do that for yourself. I miss lying in bed on rainy mornings and saying, "Let's go get coffee!" I miss saying, "Where do you think we'll be in five years?" or "Remember the time we..."

There's no more "we".

No more "let's" anything.

He was truly my best friend and I miss him more than ever when I feel stuck and the lines are blurred.

Dear Lord, this is my cry. Be my God and my reassuring husband. Be my best friend when life presents its pumpkin head predicaments and silly putty problems. Show me that there is still a 'we' and a 'let's' in my life.

***

Jesus said, "I will not leave you as orphans... on that day you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me, and I am in you... Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you... Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid... I am coming back..." John 14

"If anyone acknowledges that Jesus is the Son of God, God lives in him and he in God, and so we know and rely on the love God has for us." I John 4: 15-16

From Now On...

2006-10-31T08:01:00.000-08:00

October 31st

I woke up early this morning wondering how long I could hold my breath. It was a very strange dream. I was watching a boy holding onto a rope underwater, with weights on his feet in a deep pool, like one of those fear factor reality shows that I detest. He was running out of air and needed to come up badly but the weights on his feet were dragging him down.

I always change the channel if something like that comes on, but my only option in the dream was to wake up and try to shake it off. So I layed there for awhile and started praying.

Came down here to the office at 6 and had emails from some dear old friends. One, in Canada, used to work in a neighboring tribe, ten minutes by small aircraft or about six hours by land from us. Now he's dealing with knee surgeries and is unable to walk.

Another dear friend in Australia sent an update. Doug is the original Crocodile Dundee who used to work in another tribe in Papua, wrote about his current struggle with cancer that's invading his eye and surrounding brain cavity. After weeks and weeks of MRIs and cat scans and delays, he's still waiting for the surgery that will remove his left eye. He sent this grand conclusion to all his troubles...

Tolstoy talks of peoples differing attitudes, 1. Life is bad so get drunk to evade and forget. 2. Life is bad but struggle against it – the stoical attitude. 3. Life is bad so do the logical thing – commit suicide. 4. Life is bad but go on living, accepting life as it comes.

None of these being the Christian approach to life, American writer, Edward Borroughs puts it correctly, when he says. ‘Christianity combines the most absolute pessimism about man’s unaided powers with an unquenchable optimism as to what in God’s hands it may become.’

Jesus expressed that optimism when he stood before the Sanhedrin and said, “from NOW on,” Luke 22:69, the Son of Man will be seated - ‘FROM NOW ON’. We too can stand in that confidence.

+++++

I want to live in the "from now on"!

My life on earth here has been radically divided into the before and after. I look at pictures and think, oh yes, that was before. Then the missing face of my dear Frank in all the big events since that line was drawn depicts an after diagnosis, or an after seizure, or finally, after he died.

Then I quickly rally that optimism and say, BUT after all this has run its course there will be a glorious ever-after! There will come a time that these lines will blur and time will be no more. We will live in the great from now on that Jesus talked about. I can't wait!

So what's running through my head this morning is that we CAN live in the from now on right here and now. I'm thinking about the timing of Jesus' words. When he said that, he hadn't stood before Pilate yet. He still had the scourging and the humiliation and the cross before him. Yet he said, "from NOW on", and I realize that he was already living in that positional truth.

And when you read through this section of Luke, five times the issue of his identity is questioned. Twice from the soldiers and the crowd when they sneered, "Let him save himself IF HE IS the Christ." The council asked, "Are you the Son of God?" He answered plainly, "I am." Then Pilate asked, "Are you the king of the Jews?" He said again, "Yes, it is as you say." Then the criminal on the cross asked, "Aren't you the Christ?" And Jesus' answer started with the beautiful words, "I tell you the truth, TODAY..."

Now. Today! Jesus lived in the from now on. So can we. We need to set our minds on his word and believe in the One who lifts all our burdens. He aligns the planets, rules over every evil power, and conquers all our enemies. Even death, when he neared that door, could not obliterate his view of what lays beyond it. Today, paradise!

Imagine what went through that ruffian's mind and heart to think that he could be so close to something so wonderful. He was hanging there in agony. Blood and sweat and blinding pain coursed through his veins. A lifetime of regrets and bad choices led him to that awful punishment and the cruel justice of the Roman guards. He knew he deserved it. Now his hands were tied and his feet were bound. Helpless. Humiliated. Pinned to his past, he hung there in utter abandonment.

Somehow, his mind kept going. He heard the soldiers mocking. He heard them challenge this lamb of God. "He saved others; let him save himself IF HE IS THE CHRIST OF GOD, the CHOSEN ONE." Then with all the strength and focus he could muster, he turned and looked at Jesus. Something different about this man. Something pure and separate. Though nearing death, there was a knowing, an inner strength that seemed to sustain him.

"Father, forgive them, they don't know what they're doing," he heard him pray as they divided up his clothes. Could he be? Then he spoke the words that changed it all. "Jesus, remember me..." A very simple plea but a very real and forward faith... "WHEN you come into your kingdom."

Of all the things that he couldn't do, he did the ONLY thing, the smartest thing that he could do. He looked at Jesus.

Of course we weren't there and maybe none of the gospel writers noticed it, but I believe that right there on the cross, a smile crossed his lips. I believe the Lord's eyes glowed with pride and happiness. Right there in his final hour, another soul was saved, even as the blood that paid for his soul was still fresh on his tearing skin.

Lord, remember me too! I want to cry. Remember me with my breaking heart. Remember me in the pain and loneliness. Remember me in a frightening future. And then I look with the eyes of faith and I feel his assuring smile. I imagine his eyes glowing with love and joy, and all else fades. He invites me to live in the from now on. He meets me in the promise of paradise today.

This is my Lord who I love. His Name is Jesus.

No matter what you are facing, no matter what your fears for tomorrow, you can live in the from now on too. Turn to him and ask him for the grace that you need. He will surprise you.

"Since then, you have been raised with Christ, set your heart on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For your life is now hidden with [him]... When Christ appears, then you also will appear with him in glory."
Colossians 3:1-4

++++++++++++++

Ode to the inconvenient

2006-10-31T07:54:00.000-08:00

Waiting for my car along a busy stretch of highway in Norwood, a flock of sociable geese just made me laugh.

Such living beauty on a patch of green sandwiched between the racing speedway known as Route One and the mundane flats of black pavement for commercial parking at this mall. They seemed oblivious to the noise and commotion, content to enjoy their little patch of greenery.

I watched their striking black necks and admired the natural order of everything they did. They even seemed to be standing in vee formation, their eyes fixed on their leader, who stood erect with his eye alert to my approaching. A couple times a few of them on the outskirts would chase each other with outspread wings and nasty beaking, but then they would settle down and resume their grazing. How like people they seemed, this little flock.

There’s so little natural wildlife in these parts, it’s a shame that people don’t like them. At Choate Park even the elderly complain about how dirty they are. At Chilson they’ve polluted the pond and their droppings make the beaches unclean for children to play in the sand. I’m told that they are a constant irritant to golfers and landscapers. No one seems to know a solution because just as soon as you chase them away they return to another spot. One older gentleman at Honeydew was telling me that they’re going to have to start shooting them off. What a shame. We should at least have a roast goose Thanksgiving dinner for the poor in the town, I suggested.

Another natural problem was on the news this morning from the state of Vermont. Though coyotes have been plentiful in the area, it’s now been reported that someone shot a ninety-pound WOLF on the border! The reporter said that there haven’t been wolf sightings in the area for a hundred years, but that seems unbelievable. I wonder how often they are mistaken for coyotes.

It’s a little easier to understand the fear of wolves, than the hatred for the geese that are here for such a brief time and then fly south.

We are a generation who hates to be inconvenienced. We are a people who don’t want to be bothered to clean up messes. We like our yards perfectly manicured, our golf ranges uncluttered, and now, even some of the last remaining wilderness regions to be free of the free and wild.

We Americans, of all people, are accustomed to the most unrealistic expectations on the planet.

+++

Awakening the inner spirit

2006-10-31T07:36:00.000-08:00

October 7th

On my way out the door this morning, I grabbed my laptop and camera and headed out not knowing where I’d end up today. It was only in the high 40s this morning but it’s heading up to the 60’s with sunny and beautiful skies. With the foliage turning it’s tempting to head up to New Hampshire or maybe to Gloucester for pictures.

I stopped along the way to shoot some beautiful open places near Medfield and was even taken with a sociable flock of geese outside. I love stopping to take pictures, just trying to capture the beauty around me so I can take it home with me.

This is the most powerful witness I experienced at the age of eighteen. It is the thing that brought me to my knees while living in Alaska, and it remains one of the things that continues to move me to worship.

Natural beauty in God’s creation, when you really stop to admire and soak it in, speaks of who God is in all his might and perfection. Like the quiet majesty of snow-peaked mountains or the whisperings of the great tundra. The secret mysticism one feels overlooking the rainbow-painted desert or the depths of the sea.

Whether in stillness or storm, whether in the brilliance of sunset or sunrise, even in the cool blue light of moon glow God’s earth is rich with inspiration. It always points us back to wonder. We’re the ones who spoil it with all our pollutions and dissolutions, our high wires and commercial signs. Strip away all our neon nonsense and material madness.

Look at the sheer intelligence of design and purpose and be amazed. From chrysalis cocoons to eagles moulting, from swarming bees to the marching of army ants, from salmon migrations to the parade of penguins it is all too wonderful to contain. Too complex to explain away.

In Miller’s book, he speaks of what I call the awakening of the inner spirit. Miller writes,

“For a while, I felt as though the world were a watch and God had lifted the lid so I could see the gears. The intricate rules of the sociospiritual landscape were something like a play to me, and I was delighted at every turn in the plot.

The truths of the Bible were magic, like messages from heaven, like codes, enchanting codes that offered power over life, a sort of power that turned sorrow to joy, hardship to challenge, and trial to opportunity… After I became a Christian, every aspect of human interaction had a fascinating appeal, and the intricate complexity of the natural landscape was remarkable in its perfection: the colors in the sky melding with the horizon, those south Texas sunsets burning distant clouds like flares, like fireworks, like angel wings starting flight.

God was no longer a slot machine but something of a Spirit that had the power to move men’s souls…” Blue Like Jazz, p.59-60

Illusions

2006-10-31T07:01:00.000-08:00

October 6th

Something that’s been rattling around in my brain this week is illusions.

The first contributing factor is a movie I saw with Brianne on the weekend called the Illusionist with Ed Norton, an actor I really enjoy, in the leading role. He’s usually in films with great suspenseful and twisting plots and he is a powerful and convincing dramatic actor. In this script, he played a magician in love with a princess in European 19th century society. Though there was some conjuring of spirits, or the appearance of magic, the plot itself was romantic in nature.

At one point, and at great risk to his own personal well-being and that of the princess he loved, he proclaimed from a balcony to the townsfolk, “Everything you’ve seen is an illusion!” He claimed to have no spiritual powers and certainly never used his abilities to deceive for his own benefit.

Second influence came unexpectedly from a book I’ve been loving called Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. After Rob Bell’s Velvet Elvis, this book shares the same dynamic of stripping away a lot of the stale and traditional Christianity and making it more alive and authentic.

One of Miller’s chapters is called Magic, a title you wouldn’t even expect in a book addressing authentic Christian faith. Basically, he says he always thought God was like David Copperfield, an illusionist of sorts. And the older you get the less you are apt to believe in the Wizard of Oz, “just a schmuck behind a curtain.” Miller’s writings are wonderfully honest and refreshingly candid. I want to read all of his books and already have them on my most wanted list, including Searching for God Knows What and more.

He always thought Christianity was a religion for the intellectually weak-minded and naïve. Pastors and Christians sound more like salesmen trying to convince themselves of what they were saying, he says. “I felt as if Christianity, as a religious system, was a product that kept falling apart, and whoever was selling it would hold the broken parts behind his back trying to divert everybody’s attention... You either had to reduce enormous theological absurdities into children’s stories or ignore them,” he writes (p.30-31).

So in the film, a hopeless romantic albeit helpless man is known as the illusionist. Granted, in the end, he wins out through the sheer application of his God-given abilities. But then in Miller’s experience, God is seen as the illusionist. In other words, intelligent people in this day and age feel that they can’t trust who God is. He holds the cards behind his back and deceives us.

++++++++

I wonder how many truly feel that they know more than God. Obviously, there is an age-old distrust of the resurrection. Many feel that Jesus Christ was part of a well-conceived hoax and that his body was simply stolen away in the dark of night. If this is true of course, the entire Christian world has been duped and our faith is based on nothing but wishful thinking.

I can understand this reasoning, but I still reject it. Of course, anyone who prays to Jesus and knows the Lord and has tasted spiritual reality of His living Word, have no trouble accepting that the empty tomb is a pivotal concept in which God proved fulfillment of everything that the prophets said. And that miracle is not such a far cry from the centuries of miracles that preceded it from the Red Sea to the plains of Sinai, to the top of Mount Carmel, to David’s slinging of a small stone into the forehead of a giant named Goliath. God has been in the miracle business for a very long time!

Either you believe in God or you don’t. Either you get honest about his supernatural strength, or you go through life clinging to the visible and insisting that this realm of the hard and fast, the physical body, is all there is.

Still, how can you prove that there is NO GOD? You can’t. Unless someone has been to heaven and hell and survived, unless cosmonauts could travel to every corner of the universe, none could claim to KNOW what’s beyond this life.

Psalm 14:1 says, the fool says in his heart, there is NO GOD.

No, let me tell you what I think. Neither man nor God is the real illusionist. Satan is the culprit. He is as Jesus said, "the father of all lies". He is the perverter of every principle. The twister of every truth. The subverter of every standard. He is the mastermind behind every grand illusion and he is fiercely opposed to God.

Beware of his tactics. Know that he will fight and resist every good thing and every truth with relentless devotion. If he can’t get you to ignore it, he will attempt to defuse all spiritual reality.

Because of his many active strategies at work within our culture, our schooling systems, even our subconscious minds, we have to counter the contemporary messages that surround us. On the radio, the TV, the ads, the billboards, the world’s mind-numbing messages scream for our attention and drown out the whisperings of the living God, if we let it.

In order to take a step away from all this noise we have to seek a little quiet. A little ocean side repose or a mountain view might do the trick. A quiet yard or a wooded path where only the birds are rustling. Get alone with God and talk to him. Get down to the nitty gritty of who you are and ask the real honest questions on your mind. You may be surprised at what you hear.

God is no deceiver. He wants to open your eyes. The only "trick" is this. You have to ask.

+++++++++++++++

Autumn Moons

2006-09-28T20:54:00.000-07:00

Doing laps my thoughts flash back
to the snowy footprints of December—
I remember…
Cries to God for help and grace..
And pleas to Jesus,
To run this race.

As I persevered, though trembling,
Cold and lonely, I remember,
Suddenly I found my footprints
Safely couched between the others.
One track left and one track right--
I chose to stay with all my might.

I’m not alone as I might fear—
The Lord is with me, ever near.
And though unseen he holds my hand
And comforts till I understand.

Today, I smiled under the sun.
God never changes.
He’s the One
Who’s held me fast
All through this year.
He is my strength—He’s always here!

A butterfly, bright orange and black
Flitted straight across my track.
The chyrsallis time is so short-lived!
Must be time to shed cocoons
And flit about before autumn moons
Give way to new and wintry seasons.
(So swift, so changing are times and seasons.)

Help me Lord, to use my life
The energy and time you give,
To spend them wisely, while I live,
For your glory, for your glory!

To bear with sorrow, pain and strife,
And laying all before your throne,
It’s for your glory, this my life--
I know nothing’s all my own.

Last night I sat in the car outside,
And watched the stars and a sliver of moon.
The bats streaked across the deep blue sky
And songs played mistily in the gloom.

We used to sit here as a pair
And talk and dream of going somewhere.
New horizons to explore,
Tales and memories galore.
Now I sit and the tears stream down,
Good thing there's no one else around.

In many ways it feels like years
Since you were here, since we were one.
Still hard to fathom how suddenly
Our lives were stricken and came undone.

I came in chilled by the cool night airs
A hot bath will warm and soothe my cares.
I don’t normally linger there
For this is where--

After a long hard day at work
I’d find you soaking, fast asleep.
That was your daily comfort and peace
A quiet repose and a sweet relief.

I hesitate to intrude
on sacred moments, your interlude.
The candles are there—
They still look the same.
But my memories flicker to life
Like the flame.

Your towel, your robe,
Your pillow, your clothes…
The work of you hands
Adorns every room—
But You! You’re gone!
And the bride's lost her groom.

I dared to soak in the deep hot bath
The bubbles reminded me of your laugh.
I put on your robe
And wrapped myself tight.
I kissed your photo
And said good night.

But where you are, honey,
All is bright.
You dwell in the presence
Of Jesus, my light.

I grieve cause I miss you.
I cry till I sleep.
Then pray for the morning
And try not to weep.

BUT one day He’s coming.
I’ll see what you see.
I’ll leave this world behind
And be wrapped up in glee.

How warming to think of that day to arise
When I’ll finally close these tired weepy eyes.
I’ll awake in glory beyond the skies
And begin a NEW STORY the day that I die.

+++++++++++++

This is an unusual cadence which reflects the emotional upheaval and unsteadiness of it all, like faltering steps toward healing. A few steps forward, then back. The whole poem is composed of broken sets, like my life. It is 2-1-1, 1-3-1, 3-3-4. 19 stanzas in all.

The number of lines in the stanzas also form an irregular yet meaningful pattern.
6-6-4-6 stanzas –on the track, not alone
7 God never changes (in numerology, seven is the number of completion)
4-4-4-6 prayer
4-4-4 seeking comfort
6-6-6 grief (according to numerology, three sixes are the number of man)
4-4-4-4 The final 4 stanzas of 4 lines each focus on heaven so end with the greatest emphasis on the hope of what lies ahead. Our hope of glory! This is my final aim.

The NUDE Church

2006-09-18T22:14:00.000-07:00

A contemporary country song about getting a new girlfriend includes a line about lying on the beach “wearing nothing but a smile, playing kissy kissy smoochy smoochy…"

It’s got a great catchy tune and feels so upbeat, but unfortunately the message is about a man who walks away from a troubled relationship and runs off with another woman. What’s the big deal, right? Oi vey, the world’s drive-through solutions for relational problems aren’t worth the paper sack that holds the French fries.

That song doesn’t mention anything about fatherless boys or the crumpling families and futures that are going down the tube. Just as that man in the song cast off his clothes somewhere in the sand, he’s cast off the lives of people he once loved and trashed them in the dirt too. The song wouldn’t have made it to number one on the charts if he brought that up though. No, it’s more fun to focus on the new girl and the nude beach.

Ironically, the artist’s name is Holy, which means to be set apart for God’s purposes. This is the way of the world, isn’t it. Turn things backwards and upside down. We like things new and shiny. We like vacations and thrills, but we shy away from the hard stuff.

I know, it’s easy for me to sit here and bash a song and point the finger at others, but I want to turn it around and ask the question, what about me? What am I wearing? And what about the church of Jesus Christ, His body? What have we cast aside on the beaches of America? Have we become a nude church?

The Lord used the model of a soldier to describe the spiritual clothing and protection that he offers us for this life. We may not realize it, but we have lethal enemies and there are real snipers in the bushes.

So in Paul’s writings to the Ephesians, he describes a helmet of salvation to anyone who believes, which covers our life forever. Then, there’s the breastplate of righteousness and a belt of truth. Put these on. There’s the shield of faith for one hand and a sword for the other, which is the Word of God. God’s promises that never fail and his words that never change are the sword that we need to hold onto. This is the only active offensive weapon he’s given us for fighting life’s battles. We need to learn to wield that sword effectively. The rest of the pieces mentioned are strictly protective armor.

A missionary from the jungles of Venezuela spoke in our home church yesterday morning. He used a great illustration about playing paint ball. The father of four sons, Walt loves the game, but he doesn’t love getting hit! Consequently, he takes lots of precautions to cover himself with all sorts of buffers and padded clothing. Getting hit hurts and his boys usually end up covered with welts.

Yet, it seems we have a church of millions in America who believe God’s Word but hardly ever pick it up. So in a great passing comment, Walter said, "We go to church and sit there wearing nothing but a helmet... Isn’t that an ugly picture?” We all had a real good chuckle about that, maybe there were a few embarrassed glances. We get it quickly in the natural, but where are we in the spiritual realm? God wants us fully clothed and prepared for life.

We’re living in perilous times. We can’t cast off our responsibilities and live behind excuses. Like the man in that song, we can’t just run from conflict and lounge around playing kissy kissy on the beach. To borrow from another line in that song, are we just 'riding shotgun like a shitzu hound' with the world at the wheel? We need to get serious about what we believe. For the times, they are a changin'.

Let’s get dressed and get ready for that day.

The Lord’s coming soon!

Happy Trails from the Pilot

2006-09-18T22:02:00.000-07:00

It was a beautiful summery afternoon as I was heading home with the top down and the music playing loudly. My mind was filled with plans and projects when I was suddenly arrested by the beautiful sky. I knew I had to stop. This was a God moment. I pulled over at the crest of a hill overlooking the valley and got out and stared. A breathtaking panorama of eagles' wings and angel pathways spread as far as I could see.

I watched the streams of happy trails across a setting sun… golden reds and peach, some spreading out like fuzzy memories. Some new, sharp and clear, moving forward in dynamic brilliance. Distilling, fanning out or splicing through with speed and power, every mark has significance. Long or short, high or low, toward the sun or away from its light, all represent a single journey. All are changing views. All are passing by, and all will fade in time. This is a picture of life.

As I watched the criss-crossing layers I thought, it must be incredibly easy to get off target in such wide open spaces. If pilots didn’t follow their charts or operate their equipment properly, they’d get lost up there. Without radio communications, coordinating satellites, control towers, and a ground team, they'd all drift off track and we'd have daily catastrophies. Not to mention, when you’re so far above the ground, all it takes is a little cloud cover, a little dusk or darkness, and everything looks the same down here on planet earth. From space it looks like a beautiful blue-green marble. You might even mistake it for a little jewel where peace and harmony rule our lives. Now that couldn't be farther from the truth, could it. It's all about perspective and contact, isn't it.

In that stillness, I wondered, what about me on my journey? Am I on target? Am I accomplishing God’s purposes? Am I going to leave golden memories in the sunset of my life? Or am I wandering way up there alone where my eyes deceive me and everything looks the same?

As I gazed at the view I couldn't help but wonder, what would my life look like if it were displayed up there in living color like a roadmap in the clouds? Ha! Left to my own devices, mine would be a whirlwind or a giant zigzag like a toddler's scribbled coloring book! Trust me, the Lord reminded. I'll keep you on track. I'm your pilot.

Our lives are fading, like smoke in the air or flowers in the grass. Like the mist that rises in the morning and fades at the break of day. But happy is the one who perseveres and stands the test. He will receive the crown of life that God promised. As it is, you can't say, today I'm going to do this and tomorrow I'm going to do that. You don't even know what a day will bring, how can you set the agenda? Remember who's in control. It's the Lord's will that really matters.
James 1:10-12 and 4:13-17 paraphrased

Thank you, Lord, for another beautiful visual reminder. Your peace is like nothing else on earth. Help me never to forget you in all that I do. I need constant contact with you and a heavenly perspective.

We're still on course.

9-18-06
The photos I took of the sky that afternoon a few weeks ago still grace my memory. Of course, it helps that I’ve loaded them onto my computer and they start flashing before me whenever the screen is idle a few minutes in one of those automatic slide shows.

These often trigger other automatic responses, calling up the word of God, the things He’s spoken in my heart, and the gentle inner workings of the Holy Spirit, my true teacher. I love and adore how God speaks to my heart!

This has to be the greatest joy of my life, and with the passing of time I’m growing to appreciate God’s tender voice in increasing measure.

But something troubles me. People often comment that they wonder why they don’t hear him in their lives like this, and it grieves me. I don’t want to hold this treasure to myself! I pray for you, dear reader, to know Him too. I want you to find that incredible peace and a personal relationship with this compassionate, forgiving, speaking, knowing, perfect God. He is my heavenly Father but he isn’t only mine. His great arms are large enough to embrace you too. His grace is great enough to cover your sin. He wants to dwell with you and to put it simply, he wants to be on friendly terms, if you’ll let him.

Jesus explained it to the disciples before facing the Cross. It is recorded in John’s gospel, chapters 14-16. Allow me to paraphrase the teachings of Jesus Christ…

Soon you won’t see me anymore, but don’t be afraid. I won’t leave you as orphans. The Father will send the Spirit of truth, a holy Counselor. The world doesn’t understand this because they can’t see it and they don’t know the Father, but you will know and realize that I am in you.

The Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach and remind you of everything you need to know. Peace will be yours, not like anything the world can offer. Don’t be troubled or worried or let fear rule your hearts. I’m telling you all this now before it happens so that it will make sense when you see these things occurring. (all from ch.14)

When the Counselor, that Spirit of truth, comes into your life, he will explain and expound on the things I have been teaching you. Who I am, my character, my plans. He will always give testimony that backs up the Word of God. (from ch.15)

You are sad and grieving now because I told you that I’m leaving, but the Counselor will come to complete the work in the world. He will convict the world of its need for God, revealing sin and guilt and righteousness and judgment in the hearts of men. I can’t explain it all to you now because you couldn’t bear it. But when the Holy Spirit comes he will guide you and teach you everything. He will show you what is going to come to pass. He will make things known to you that you can’t understand right now. You won’t see me for a period of time, and then when the time is fulfilled, you will be with me again.

You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. You will be scattered, but don’t be afraid. I’m telling you all this so that you can have peace when the time comes. In this world you will face troubles, but be encouraged. I have overcome the world. (from ch 16)

Of course, that’s just a smidgen of some of the most comforting chapters in all of the Bible. There is so much depth to be found there when you dig into the Word of God, but if you don’t have that inner teacher at work in you, you won’t get it. It will seem far off and mystical and you won't hear that gentle voice of the pilot, really, the chief engineer of the whole Creation, instructing you.

You don't have to wander or feel lost in uncharted spaces. Pray, my friend, ask God to show you whether all these things are true. This is a prayer he loves to answer!

Face it, if HE isn’t there you’ve got nothing to lose.

But if HE IS the great God of Creation, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, who hung the stars and planets upon nothingness and called the universe into being, then you have everything to lose. Your eternal soul is at stake if you don’t link up to the guidance system through stellar connections he's provided. A network of prayer, the Word of God, and learning to listen. Oh, and there's a ground crew of other believers to pray and counsel with you too. What a safety net!

The first thing he will do is get you safely seated on board. Your name's on the docket, the fare is fully paid, and you are fully forgiven. Then, you're outfitted for the cruise. He freely gives his Spirit so that you can know his peace and his presence for the entire flight. You will never be alone! You need never fear the future! Now, you can get to know him on the journey. He's your loving Father, the pilot, who will direct your path to a safe landing.

Happy journeys!

Life Worth Hollering About

2006-09-13T23:23:00.000-07:00

Sunday afternoon I scooted down to the lake with a stack of books and a water bottle and my little folding chair. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve been there, so from the minute I arrived, I was taken by the warm emerging colors of fall. A sprinkling of fishing canoes and the sound of the ducks pushed me to sit down and record the following...

Arriving at the lake today, the first thing I noticed is the color of the trees. Reds and oranges and smudges of purple surround the water now. A new season is being ushered in. Something about coming to the water’s edge that at once renews you and reminds you of all that is and was and is to be. Water bodies remind you of eternal bodies. They always mirror the face of their maker.

Three young boys are playing at the edge. “Mom! Mom!” they started screaming. “Look what we found! It’s ALIVE!” they hollered.

“What is it?” came a concerned voice drifting across the sand.

“A turtle!” they shrieked together and ran to show her the little creature. Little boys. So ready to explore all boundaries and apprehend every new discovery with such exuberance and delight. Aren’t they great? They remind me of Huck Finn and his pals, tirelessly inventing new games and contests. Eight-year-old boys sure know how to enjoy the adventure of the day.

Lord, give me that childlike joy. Life is meant to make us holler! What better description of the abundant life?

Thank you for coloring the world with so much to be discovered and enjoyed. Thank you for the newness of seasons and the excitement of knowing that YOU never change!

After this, a chilly wind picked up and I couldn’t sit still any longer. I was thirsty for a little adventure too. I walked around the sandy beach and came to one of the mothers of the fishing, rock-throwing, hollering eight-year old boys.

"Your kids are delightful," I told her as we watched them scrambling from one exciting idea to the next. "It's been a long time since my sons were that age."

It was a wonderful chance to talk with Mary, a young mother of four, who I discovered had a near-death experience that radically changed her life. She confessed her dissatisfaction with religion, affirmed her faith in God, and expressed a deep concern for her kids and her husband.

"My husband crosses himself every time he passes a church and he goes to mass each week, thinking he will be accepted into heaven for doing these things," she said with a pleading look in her eyes. "But I keep trying to tell him that it’s more important to the Lord to live as a disciple every day than to perform certain holy rituals at certain times."

I agreed, reminding her of Jesus' own words to the Pharisees and the "white-washed tombs" of his time. They made sure they kept the outside painted and pretty, but inside, he told them plainly, they were full of dead bones. No matter how we dress up or cover up the outside, the Lord most definitely looks within, and cares about matters of the heart the most.

It was a joy to talk about the freedom that comes from the cross alone, rather than a good works based message that many churches offer. Though she seems to understand the need for reconciliation (a message which she came out of the near-death experience with), I think she may still have some works-based philosophy entrenched in her thinking after a lifetime of teaching. But her heart seems pure and I know the Lord is working to liberate her and her family.

"What do I teach my kids?" she asked honestly.

"Point them to God directly through His Word. If it's not in the Bible," I said as plainly as I know how, "then don't worry about it." In saying this, I was hoping she would grab onto the absolute truth that the focus of our hearts and lives should be KNOWING HIM, rather than performing mindless rituals or any other thing that the minds of men have invented to make us feel close to holiness. True holiness is having God at work in your life on a moment by moment basis. It's the LIFE dwelling within that makes you holy and nothing else.

We talked about the philosophical difference between doing good IN ORDER to get to heaven and receive the approval of God, versus doing good BECAUSE of the grace of God in our lives. "Religion" misses this when it imposes all sorts of regulations and rules. Grace is, after all, the UNMERITED favor of God. It cannot be earned no matter what we do, otherwise we nullify the gift.

There are seven wonderful, liberating chapters in the Bible that you should study if you don't understand this and want to. Romans 4:1-5:11 and the six chapters of Galatians. These sections will explain why I am so strong on these points. God is strong on the gospel being free. If we could have earned grace in any way, then Christ died in vain. In other words, if "being good" and going to church on Sunday could save our souls from hell, then the cross of Calvary was a pretty dumb idea and a complete waste of time. Did you ever think about that? How can we possibly add to what He did for us?

No, Scripture is as plain as the voices of these children. We are saved by faith plus nothing, but those who rely on observances of laws and rituals are under a curse. Anyone who preaches any other message is also under condemnation (Gal 1:9). Oh, there is so much deception and confusion in the world, I pray that anyone reading this will understand the goodness of God. He is a God who provides a salvation that ALL OF US can afford. The total, finished work and promise of salvation is FREE, by faith alone.

Well, the temperature was dipping as the sun dropped lower in the sky. So, we said good-bye and from there I went to Honey Dew. The chill in the air made me thirsty for a hot cup of coffee. Inside, I met a retired Navy-Army guy who was watching the news and wanted to talk. A real good discussion emerged from the state of the world today to overseas living (he’d been in about 10 countries including Iraq and Kuwait leading convoys) and back to ‘spoiled America.’

Most people who have served lengthy military careers appreciate authority and structure, so it was easy to bridge over to the sovereignty of God who commands the planet. Mark showed a real respect and interest, and at one point he got real serious and said, “That’s exactly where I am right now.” I discovered yet another adventure, another life, as the Lord quietly nudged him to trust that He knows exactly what he’s doing. The Lord God is our able and ever-present Superior Officer and I'm so glad I know Him!

As I hopped back in the car, the sky was now painted with sunset bands of color. The joy welled up within me and I felt like hollering to the skies, Father! Father! Look what I found again today! You’re alive!

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Making the Grade

2006-09-13T23:18:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite stories from a panel event on Saturday came from a psychologist’s introductory comments explaining the passion she has for what she does.

She was asked to take on a kid who was headed for serious trouble in Boston. If she didn't take him, he was going to jail.

She described this very difficult young man who was clinically rated an "F" on the big wall chart--isn't that awful? Of course he was obstinate and angry and unmotivated. It seemed no one could get through to him.

Linda asked to be with him alone and was warned that he was considered dangerous. But, this mother of two sons said she felt she needed to do this. She sat down with him and asked, "Do you understand grace?"

"No," came the sullen reply.

She walked to the wall chart and erased the F. She said, "Well, I'm going to make you an A today."

"What are you doing?" he asked incredulously.

"This is grace," she explained. "In my eyes, you're an A and nothing else matters."

The turn-around was amazing. The boy immediately wanted to write apologies and make amends with everyone. Then, the best part of the story, he went on to become an A student and an athlete, and continues to this day to be making improvements. He literally became what this dear woman saw him to be!

He just needed to experience some grace. Day after day before he met her, all he was seeing and hearing was his failure. The world and the system had wet-stamped him, branding his life with a big RED F! It was inescapable. Until one beautiful day, someone extended a little grace and breathed a clean breath of air into his life. Everything changed.

Grace ignited the hope of change and a life was turned around. I love that story! Why? Because this is exactly what God did for me. My friend Linda demonstrated the same saving grace that took my life from the bottom of the scale and swung open the door of new life and total acceptance. When I came into His presence, He not only changed the grade, he tore down the wall chart and gave me a new name. God the Father freely gives us a clean record and a right standing. He makes all things new!

God loves grace and lavishes it on us. He erases the F for all who come to him and proclaims with a smile, “I’m making you an A today, tomorrow, and forever.”

++++++++++

The Wedding Remembered

2006-09-13T23:16:00.000-07:00

I’m sitting in the reverent hush in the chapel waiting for the bridal party to enter. I’m watching the candles burning and suddenly I am transported to another time. I’m remembering a very similar Saturday afternoon thirty-two years ago in June when Frank and I came nervously to this same place to be wed.

The piano prelude, the bouquets of lilies, white and pinks with baby breath spilling down the sides like a foretaste of fruitfulness to come… all reminiscent of our own ceremony. Small. Uncomplicated. Holy.

We were so young. We had no idea what we would do, where we would go, or how we would get there. We couldn’t foresee the journey, the places we’d live and how beautiful our babies would be. All our adventures around the world spanning times and seasons, yet unknown, but sacred.

In sickness and in health. In times of prosperity and hardship. We were together until death us did part. Oh God! Thank you for my marriage! Even though it has come to an end, a premature parting of our souls—I thank you for giving him to me and for all that we shared.

And now I’m seated next to a lovely young woman with ravishing eyes. She is an exotic beauty in a tropical print of reds and creams. Naomi is the living reminder of her father’s spirit. His life continues and blossoms like these floral surroundings, living in watered urns before me or pressed onto the fabric patterns of my daughter’s dress.

These lives of ours, so simple and of such humble beginnings, matter immensely to our God. They will be recorded in His book and engraved on my heart forever.

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The Rod of Moses

2006-09-13T23:02:00.000-07:00

God appeared to Moses in the burning bush and asked him, “What’s that in your hand?” Of course, whenever God asks questions (i.e. Adam, where are you?), God doesn’t need our information. He asks because he wants to accomplish something in our realization. In other words, identify this thing. Look at it, this dead, unproductive piece of wood. Then God said, “Throw it on the ground.” (Exodus 4) And from these verses, I heard a wonderful message from Jentzen Franklin of Chicago citing three good points about what’s in my hand…

The rod represented his identity. It was a shepherd’s staff.
It represented his income, an occupation that provided his trusted resource and living.
It also represented his sphere of influence, the world around him and where he lived.

He used a star football player from his congregation as an example and showed a slide of this man bowing the knee at the end zone and thanking God when he made a goal. He’s using his influence to point to God. It so happens a football is in this man's hand, but there he was, laying it down for God to get the glory. Some may not understand that, but what a refreshing contrast to the superstars who strut around the endzone thumping their chests like tribal warriors when they can run 100 yards carrying that little pigskin. No, this man was using what he had in humility, recognizing that it all came from God and publicly thanking Him for it. The Word encourages us, “Whatever you do, do it wholeheartedly as unto the Lord and not unto men.” (Col 3:23) This man was truly serving an audience of One.

I noticed the three I’s in his outline, and it was a triple-punch to the solar plexus, or should I say, soular plexus? This is a solid reminder of the all-encompassing self-life. Me, myself and I. We could say, the mind, the heart and the soul. Or, some think of the will, emotion and being. All that I am needs to be surrendered at the feet of Jesus. How tightly am I holding on? Truly, nothing that is "in my hand" is permanent or dependable forever. All these things can be taken from me in an instant. But the God who gave me life can teach me how to use what He has put in my hand. I only have to listen.

A popular commercial asks the question, "What's in your wallet?" Usually, a band of rogue warriors is trying to steal it from you. But who has the authority to ask such a question? Certainly the one who gave it to you could do that. God has the right to ask you for what's in your wallet. You wouldn't have a wallet, and there would be no photo on that license. There wouldn't even be a name printed there because you wouldn't have a breath without him! Like the disappearing faces on the old movie, Back to the Future, there would be no YOU! If we could only understand, it all belongs to Him and begins and ends with Him.

In every area of our lives, the Lord asks, "What’s in your hand?" He just wants us to recognize the gifts He's given us. We should have our eyes wide open and thankful hearts. There are bountiful blessings in our hands. There are families and children, friendships and opportunities, abilities, creativity and time! All so precious! Do we see all that is in our hands?

If so, the first step is God's command, "Throw it down!" It was just a dead stick in Moses’ hand, but when he obeyed God, casting it at his feet, it became a living thing! God knew he couldn't really use Moses until this weak and faltering lipped man realized a thing or two. It's as though God had to set the record straight.

Sometimes I wonder, shouldn't the burning bush have been enough? Was that sight too remarkable, too distant or intangible for him to grasp? God went a step further. He demostrated his power with the very familiar staff in his own hand. Moses probably carved and then carried it for years, possibly for the forty years he had been a shepherd in that distant land. His hands must have known every minute crook and crevice of that staff. In a very real way, that chunk of wood represented his own life.

It's as though the Lord was saying, Let me come a little closer and show you something you will really understand. You shaped that piece of wood, didn't you? You've used it and held onto it for many years. You think you have power over it? You think you have something special there, do ya? Wait til you see what I can do with that little stick! When it hit the ground it became a live snake and Moses ran from it! Moses had no idea the potential that was in that wooden stick. Potential for life as well as potential for death. In the same way that you carved that stick, I shaped you! Just as you've carried it and know it intimately, I've carried you and know you inside and out. I AM your creator and I'm calling you to trust me with everything that is in you.

Later on, of course, this same "stick" touched the Red Sea and it opened up so that two million people could walk across on dry ground in one night. I've heard scoffers say things like, "Oh, it was low tide anyway. The water was probably just a few inches deep!" Wow, if that's true, then it is even more remarkable. God drowned the whole Egyptian army in a little stream of bath water and thousands of horses and chariots were covered on a sandbar! No, it's a cute joke, but I think not.

There have been excavations at the site where it happened at Nuweiba, a red granite pillar that was erected by Solomon that is still standing, and the gilded chariot wheels have been found on the ocean floor. The place is ten miles long and up to 5000 feet deep. Though many want to look the other way and pretend it never happened, the Red Sea was a dynamic miracle as God stretched out His bare arm and brought his people out of slavery, just as He promised.

The point is, that little "stick" was seriously promoted. It went from herding a bunch of sheep in the back side of the desert to commanding angels on the front lines of history! Moses' rod in God's hand called down plagues on their enemies and led them to the Promised Land. As Moses learned to listen to God's command, that little stick became the ruling rod of God on earth. From a shepherd's humble staff to a reigning scepter in the hand of the Almighty!

God takes whatever we have and he can do the unthinkable. He can bring things to life! For me it’s writing, speaking and teaching. It might be a bunch of words and the learning and the messages he’s put in my hand. Without his life-giving Spirit, without his blessing, these things would never accomplish a thing. They are just dead things like so many scratchings on pages or so many splinters of wood. But at God's command, even the very familiar can overpower me. Like a slithering serpent, I would run from these same words and be destroyed by them.

So I cast down my identity, I trust you God for the income and resources I need to live. My future, my security, the ability--it all comes from you. I cast the sphere of influence, the readers and writers' groups, the congregations or classrooms, the people I “bump” into along the way… WHEREVER it is and WHENEVER it is, Dear God, I throw it all at your feet in Jesus' Name.

Thank you, Father, for the wonderful things you have put in my hand, but God, help me never to cling to them more than you, or lean on them or trust in them for life. It is the giver, not the gifts that I seek. Like the rod of Moses, these things are powerless without you.

Jesus said, "I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remain in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." (John 15:5)

An Overgrown Garden

2006-09-13T22:54:00.000-07:00

A couple days ago, I was outside at lunchtime tackling another section of weeds down the driveway garden. I had been putting it off for weeks but once I got out there, I couldn’t stop! It was addictive, like picking berries. Just one more and then one more section.

Why didn’t I do this sooner, I berated myself. Weeds, like conflicts, only grow bigger when you ignore them. They’re not going to go away!

I was encouraged though. First thing I noticed is that when I got down on my hands and got close enough to it, I could see more clearly to distinguish between the weeds and the spreading clusters of phlox. From a distance, it all looked like weeds!

As I worked my way down the driveway, I also found that many of the long trailing shoots that looked like they’d be tough to uproot, actually ripped up easily once I gathered all the pieces and gave a firm twist. What was going through my mind as I did it was, the hardest part is just getting started! Now, I don’t want to quit!

When I stood up and appraised the cleanliness of the ground, the newly stirred mulch, the clean borders and the spruced up plantings, I was greatly satisfied! Then I realized, maybe no one else will even notice, but to me, this feels like a victory over my enemies!

And so I realize with every task that God gives us to do, the best thing we can do is to apply ourselves to the best of our ability and just DIG IN! We may be surprised at the strength and ability that shows up just when we need it. Even if we only cover a few feet the satisfaction alone will be worth more than anyone else might ever understand.

God help me to put my hand to the task and open my mind and heart to the things you want to tear from the soil of my life. Whatever it is Lord, help me to ruthlessly remove any unproductive and destructive weeds that have taken root, and nourish the living seeds.

Help me to remember this natural illustration whenever I feel overwhelmed at the task you’ve called me to do. Then I pray that when I stand up before you at the end of the age, you and I will both be satisfied and full of praise at what was done in your name.

An Unseen Hand and a Holy Whistle

2006-09-06T19:33:00.000-07:00

My son was telling me about a friend who is applying to the FBI to work as an agent. The hiring process is thorough and there are many levels of interrogations and tests involved. In fact, he’s been followed and monitored with exacting precision.

We were saying that it must be a weird feeling to realize you’re being followed and scrutinized by unseen eyes, whether driving down the highway or sitting at your desk at work. Then the thought struck me. Isn’t it even more daunting, more mind-boggling, to realize you’re being led by an unseen hand?

The most exciting thing I know in life is the realization that God is at work in me. For example, whenever I experience one of those 'chance encounters' I just can’t get it out of my mind. GOD can DIRECT our very STEPS! You have to keep your eyes open though. It's easy to miss what God is doing.

Do young children choose his path?
We may think we’re taking a casual stroll, as I was doing with my grandchildren yesterday. “Let’s go Nana,” my grandson urged. “Maybe we should just walk around the block honey,” I coaxed. "We don't have much time before the baby has to nap." “Oh no! Nana, we have to go to Choate Park!” he pleaded. But when we got there one of the local daycares was having a welcome day and the entire park was buzzing like a beehive. Every swing was taken and practically every spot of sand was filled with little people. I'd never seen it so busy.

"Let’s walk this way," I called to my grandson. So we were detoured down the bike path and that’s when we suddenly found ourselves walking side by side with another woman and a couple kids. The kids started playing tag around us as we walked. Next thing you knew it, we were deep in conversation and I quickly realized that this was more than a chance meeting.

I learned that this dear woman had been praying for six years for a certain thing, a word of encouragement, an inspiration in her life. She has struggled against many obstacles including physical handicaps in her and her child. As I listened to her, I knew in my spirit that God had already prepared me with specific words for her encouragement and I was so excited and happy to be his messenger. I didn't even want to come to the park that day, but my grandson had practically insisted.

GOD wanted this dear woman to see how HE cares for her. HE HAS A PLAN! He is the master designer of our lives! The wonder of this present, living and active God will never cease to fill me with awe.

Do Dogs listen to God?
I spent the afternoon on Labor Day at a lovely country field watching the dogs run and the kids play and the clouds roll by as I was reading and praying. It would sure be nice to talk to someone, I thought after finishing my book.

Just then, I spotted a couple of beautiful goldens coming down the path. Right behind them, a runner appeared and waved. “Nice dogs!” I waved back as they ran by. But without my realizing it, both dogs had circled around from the path and came back to see me. I still miss my old dogs so it was fun to visit them. And right behind them, the runner had also doubled back.

Hmmm, I’m thinking, how unusual. Runners don't usually like to stop. Lord, what does this man need to hear? I invited him to join me and almost instantly we were talking about spiritual things. He pulled out a silver chain that had belonged to a great uncle and showed me the inscribed emblem around his neck. The medallion had actually been grazed by a bullet in the Civil War and saved the man’s life! Bill wears it to this day and is reminded of God’s blessing over his family.

"I don't go to church," he said with a twinge of guilt, "but I do believe in God. I thank him every morning." The focus of our conversation went right to the heart of what it means to live your faith dynamically, wholeheartedly, in fellowship with Jesus. You can know his presence. You can hear his voice just like these dogs hear your whistle. You can walk with him through this life. It's not about going to church. It's about the faith in your heart and the vital link to him that comes only through his Spirit.

He asked lots of questions and the Lord filled my mind with examples and truth for him. Honestly, a lot of the ideas were filtering right through the book I had just finished reading. That was a marvelous encounter, so perfectly timed. I could see the Lord was challenging him to think deeply about his life. “You should go to divinity school,” he advised after some serious moments. Oh, I think the only school I need is obedience school!

Again, I knew the Lord had directed that meeting. Who knows but that the dogs themselves had heard a holy whistle and played a role in it? It’s almost as though he was pulled over with some unseen magnetic force. And afterwards he shook my hand and thanked me for giving him new perspective. It's not me though, of course. Isn’t God amazing? He is the unseen hand and the director of the "chance encounter." He draws and whispers and answers the innermost prayers of the heart.

Do you know him? Do you hear his voice? Do you follow him like these children and family pets? I wonder sometimes if these "lesser" souls and creatures put us to shame in their responses to God?

The Lord often refers to himself as our shepherd and likens us to sheep. Why sheep? They are among the simplest of creatures. Timid... needy... ignorant... followers. We need protection, we need guidance, more than we even realize half the time. But the interesting thing is that God set such a perfect relational lesson in place for those who will listen. Even the silly sheep know their master's voice! If it's that simple, why don't we?

"I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me..." John 10:14

"The watchman opens the gate and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls the sheep by name and leads them out... his sheep follow him because they know his voice." John 10:3-4

"My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand." John 10:27-28

My sheep know my voice, the Lord said plainly. All you have to do is ask him and come into the fold of his loving embrace.

To me, it is entirely evident,
clearly construed,
and absolutely apparent.
It is perfectly plain
when I bump into someone
with a hunger for God
that He had it planned all along.

Nothing surprises him.
He is the God of the minute detail.
He is always watching.
This is the God of all creation.
Is anything too hard for him?
Yes, every little unseen detail
is laid bare before the eyes of the Lord!

The Chyrsallis Times

2006-09-06T16:33:00.000-07:00

One of the great joys of my life has been leading Bible studies in a corrections facility called the Chrysallis House. Last night I had just a couple girls, but as is usually the case, I came away knowing that it was more for my own learning and encouragement than for theirs. It's no accident that I was assigned to this house. It is a place for healing and for regeneration. It is a home for hearts to find renewal.

I was so happy to see one of the girls pouring over the study books and desiring to know God. She was so animated, flipping through pages of poetry and reading her favorites. So what are you learning? I asked. "She's like a therapist," she told the guard with a laugh. But she surprised me when she blurted out a question that has apparently been churning inside awhile. She got serious and more reflective and then said, "Ever since I've started believing God, it seems like my life has gotten harder. What's going on with that?" Her honesty is so refreshing! "I pray, but I don't know if God's listening," she frowned. We needed to talk about timing and expectations.

The Lord steered us back to the chrysalis times. Have you ever heard the story of the kind and sympathetic onlooker who cut a butterfly loose from its cocoon? That butterfly who is so quickly “helped” and spared the struggle is actually crippled for life. Its wings never form, but remain dwarfed and whithered. That butterfly will never fly.

Why do we get so impatient? Why do we measure our days so frantically and think that God isn’t doing anything? If God immediately removed us from every challenge, how would we mature? How would we develop spiritual wings? There would be no real strength, no depth of character, indeed no real learning takes place without some struggle or pain.

C.S. Lewis put it this way: "God whispers in our pleasures.. but shouts in our pain. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world."

From there we turned to John 11 for a slow verse by verse accounting of the death and resurrection of Lazarus. There’s the frustrated confusion of the women--Lord, why weren’t you here sooner? And the binding graveclothes and the awful stink of the tomb, which could well describe how we feel about our circumstances at times. But it always comes down to God’s glory, his plan. How awesome is our God!

Can't we trust him with our times and trials? Even though the hole is small and our limbs are weak, can we just learn to rest and believe that He’s going to give us the strength that we need and teach us to fly when the time is right? Can't we learn to exercise the limbs of faith?

He is the resurrection and the life! He has complete power over every circumstance, but he also works on his own schedule.

Jesus asked the women, "Didn't I tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?" (Jn 11:40)

Dear Jesus, just as you lifted your eyes to heaven and thanked the Father for hearing you right before calling Lazarus to come out of his grave, I thank you, Lord, for hearing me as I pray for my readers tonight.

I ask that you call them out from whatever holds them back, out from the stench of death and the hopelessness that surrounds us.

Roll the stones away, dear God, call us out from spiritual darkness and deception. Remove the things that bind us--the faithlessness and hardheartedness that separate us from you!
Amen.

The fragrance of friendship

2006-09-06T15:51:00.000-07:00

At Jim and Lisa's Bible study the other night, we were a small but genuine group seated on big stuffed chairs and surrounded by bowls of popcorn and m&ms. So sweetly nursed to comfort after a long and hectic day. My dear friends always listen with their hearts, and they pray and believe so fervently. I love these guys, and their home is nothing short of a spiritual oasis.

With Bibles and notepads open on our laps we were discussing the meaning of Proverbs 27:9-10.

“Perfume and incense bring joy to the heart, and the pleasantness of one’s friend springs from his earnest counsel. Do not forsake your friend….”

The beauty of that passage emerged after Jim kept asking about the word earnest and what does that say to you? We rolled the words around in our thoughts and sweet gentle discussion flowed amongst friends. Sometimes, even when you talk to a friend, you feel like your heart is in your hand, one said. There's some risk in every confrontation. My own thoughts melded together and tumbled out, too…

To me, the word earnest implies great effort, time spent, and depth of feeling, I think. That’s the beauty of it. How is perfume made but by the alchemist who takes the seeds and rose petals and crushes them with the mortar and pestle? He crushes and pounds and works the substance around until the fragrances are released and blended into the oils. What brings the fragrance out but the process, sometimes breaking, sometimes in mingled in the oil of tears? It is the crushing of humility and putting down our ugly pride, baring our true souls through thick and thin.

When you find a true friend like this who will be honest and genuine, even when it hurts, you have found a refreshing joy to the heart. It will be like perfume or incense, a sweet fragrance released that can enhance who God made you to be.

True friends will invest time and make an effort and give advice in earnest because they care. They won't give up on you. They will bare their true souls. What a valuable treasure!

I looked around the room at the sweet faces of these people I love. Mmmmm. Yes, it is just like perfume.

Lord God, whether I’m writing or teaching or just trying to be a friend to someone, teach me how to bare my soul to the people I truly love and care about. Let me bring joy to the heart of my friends, too.

Crikey Croc Hunter!

2006-09-06T14:56:00.000-07:00

The news this morning included an interesting tidbit about the Croc Hunter of Aussie. Steve Irwin died this morning from a stingray. The tail came up and hit him directly in the chest and punctured a hole in his heart. Can you believe it? He was only 44 and left a wife and 2 kids.

People are saying, well, he died doing what he loved, but what a terrible waste. All that experience and strength and natural charm. All that raw courage and a lifetime of dedication had literally made him a household name. This likeable man, with his wonderful enthusiasm and brilliant personality, with all the abilities and knowledge he acquired and mastered over decades, came to such an abrupt and unexpected end. Everyone is saddened by the news.

YET what a challenge. Here's a man who faced death daily for a bunch of reptiles and fish just because he loved it. He loved them! I have to pause and ask myself, what do I love that much? Am I willing to go to such extremes?

Come on, oftentimes, we who claim to love God won’t even walk across the street to talk to our neighbors. We won’t go ten feet or ten minutes out of our way for the One who died for us. As the wonderful Keith Green sang so powerfully in the 70’s, “The Lord Jesus rose from the dead! But you! You won’t even get out of bed!”

Heaven help us to live in such a way that when it’s time to leave this planet, we will have invested well in the things we believe and the ones we love. We will have lived it fully with all our hearts. Follow your passion, take a few risks, kiss the ones you love. SAY what you believe and stand up for the ones you love. Don't hide or make excuses. Live while it is still day. As Beth Moore says,

"Life shouldn't be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather, to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out and loudly shouting, "Wow! What a ride! Thank You, Lord!"

Naked Soul

2006-08-25T23:25:00.000-07:00

I have been so amazed by the activity on this site. I just figured out how to allow comments and I also set up a site meter he other day. In just 48 hours or so, it is mind-boggling. The online predictor is estimating 12,000 pages per month will be viewed by you people OUT THERE!

Here in the USA, there are places that really surprise me. Little dots were lit up like a Christmas tree across the country and my heart was pounding at the thought of people actually reading my journal entries and articles. WOW! From Oregon to Arizona and from Texas to Minnesota and from New Hampshire down to Florida… the coverage and extent is truly surprising. With regular emails you don't get to SEE what's happening, so this was a real revelation to virgin eyes.

I put on the world map and saw that someone was reading it in FINLAND and in MOSCOW! I mean, I don’t even know anyone in Finland… And there was a red dot in China and England and about four hits from an “UNKNOWN COUNTRY”… What does that mean? All part of the wonders of electronic journaling.

I don’t know if I can wrap my mind around this thing. This soulscriber’s had some moments of sheer paranoia. Seriously, this is quite an exercise in testing the limits of one’s vulnerability and willingness for exposure. Yes, what I’m saying is, it makes me feel quite naked! Soul naked.

You know how odd this is? God often calls people to do things that they are not naturally comfortable or good at doing. I mean, MOSES had a speech impediment and God called him to speak to the most powerful world leader of the day, for Pete’s sake. Well, I am actually a fairly private person, but God has called me to expose my heart and soul.

Somewhere underneath it all, there is a wondrous sense of delight that God is in it. I know He can take even the smallest crumbs and multiply them as they are dispersed to the four winds in His Name.

But when I see those little twinkling lights, red, greens and whites, I'm tempted to feel violated. Who are these people? Yeah, it’s unfamiliar territory. Do I quit this? Nah, I can't stop now! This is a life-giving exchange. A forum for real feelings. A platform for searching souls.

It’s do or die, baby. Sink or swim! As Garth sings, “I’m going to sail this vessel till the river runs dry!”

Dear God, once again I commit this journey into your hand to be used for your glory. May our hearts be drawn and spiritual appetites salted for the quenching that you alone can give. Excite and challenge and expose real truth as you move across boundaries and time zones, toward the breaking down of walls in people’s lives…

Especially my own!

Amen.

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