Who Are You?

Who are you?  We answer this question is many different ways.  We explain where we come from, who are our people.  What we do is somewhere in there, along with hobbies, friends, and what makes us happy.  All of these things contribute, of course.  They are all a part of our stories.  But are they who we are?  Do we argue genetics versus environment?  Are we our family tree?  How much choice do we actually have about who we are?  Do road trips actually help us in finding out who we are?  I can tell you all about my story, who I’ve been, what I’ve done, where I’ve been.  But maybe, I’ve been looking at all this from the wrong perspective.

When we see art, most of us admire the art itself.  But when an expert looks, they see much more than the art, construction or design.  They study the artist, architect, and designer.  They discuss who the artist is or was, what their goals were, what they were thinking and feeling.  What is the purpose of the creation?  What was the creation intended to do?  So, maybe instead of searching for ourselves in an answer of ‘who am I’, we should look and study our Creator.  To start, check out Jeremiah 1:5, “Before I shaped you in the womb, I knew all about you.  Before you saw the light of day, I had holy plans for you…”  Not bad for a start, huh?  Then, there’s Ephesians 2:10 “God does both the making and saving. He creates each of us by Christ Jesus to join him in the work he does, the good work he has gotten ready for us to do, work we had better be doing.”  How about 1 Peter 2: 9-10 “But you are the ones chosen by God, chosen for the high calling of priestly work, chosen to be a holy people, God’s instruments to do his work and speak out for him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference he made for you—from nothing to something, from rejected to accepted.”?

Folks, the things written about us in Scriptures are almost unending.  Check them out for yourselves!  What was our Artist, our Architect, our Designer thinking?  What is His goal, the purpose of it all?  My take is simple, foundational, and infinitely complicated…  Love.  We argue over everything.  Politics.  Sports.  Everything from how to worship to how to cook an egg.  And what does He want us to do?  Love.  Love the people who are different from me.  Love the people who are persecuted.  Love the people who need what I have.  What did Christ do, nailed by His hands and feet to wood and hoisted in shame?  He looked at His killers and He loved.  What are we to do when faced with disagreeing thoughts, when ridiculed and persecuted?  Love.  Listen to this video of Chris Tomlin singing Good, Good Father.  Read and print out the lyrics.  Study.  Learn.  Love. 

So, who am I?  Who are you?  You are loved by your Creator.  It’s who you are.

How Do We Get Out of the Mess We've Made?

All these years later, I still remember the confusion, the fear.  I had no idea what to do or where to start.  It was too much!  I was overwhelmed and it was all my fault.  What happened, you ask?  When was this, you ask?  Well, let me tell you, I was five years old and had been told to clean my room…  You’re laughing, aren’t you?  It does seem funny, even to me.  Until I remember how it felt.  How was I supposed to clean up the mess I had made?  Have you ever been there?  Has the mess ever been so overwhelming that you were defeated before you even started?  How could you ask for help, when it was so private, so shameful that you couldn’t even admit you had made it?  How many of us are thinking of that secret, so embarrassing that no one knows of or suspects?  What do you do when your world up ends and you are left surrounded by that secret, and all its exposure has destroyed?

Your mess might actually be an easy fix.  All you may need is the skills to organize or the cleaning supplies.  It might be as devastating as the earthquake and following tidal wave that hit Japan in 2014.  And the organization and clean up takes years, even decades.  The size really doesn’t matter.  It’s what we do with this mess.  You could be the person everyone else takes their messes to.  You could even be the ‘mess whisperer’.  But all of your skills, your comping mechanisms, and giftings could be useless when facing your own mess.  Seems hopeless, doesn’t it?  And it is.  When we only look at it with human eyes.  Human eyes, you ask?  What other eyes should we use?  What other eyes do we have?  Hindsight?  Foresight?  Intuition?  Experience?  All are possible and all can be great tools, even when cleaning up messes.  But the eyes that I am writing of are not our own eyes.  They are the Eyes of the Holy Spirit.  The Eyes of God.  The Eyes that saw our mess from the beginning.  They Eyes that see the middle, end, and eventual results of our mess.  The Eyes that see our intentions, our hopes, our secret sins, our addictions, along with everything else that went into making our mess.  He is the only One who can make beauty out of it.  He is the only One who can restore the loss and makes what seems impossible happen anyway. 

So where do we go from here?  You’re sitting, surrounded by all the destruction around you.  Helpless.  Hopeless.  Terrified.  Your secret is minutes from being exposed and there is nothing you can do.  Don’t shove everything into the closet or corner.  Trust me the mess only gets bigger.  If you don’t believe me, just watch one of those horders shows.  It gets bigger, messier, and more destructive. Thanks, Lara, you’re thinking.  Describe my life, down to the second, and leave me hanging.  That’s human thinking.  You may feel or have felt deserted by God.  That’s human feeling.  He has never and will never desert you.  What do you do?  What did I do when overwhelmed by the contents of my toy box all over my bedroom floor?  I cried out.  I asked for help.  Cry out.  Ask for help.  Look up.  He’s just waiting for you to ask for help.  Ask forgiveness, He never says no to that.  Read the manual, the Bible.  Go to your spiritual leaders.  If they are true followers of Christ, they will work and walk through this with you.  Come clean with those you love.  If they love you and are true followers of Christ, they too, will work and walk through this with you.  Get counsel.  Get counsel.  Get counsel.  Do whatever it takes to stop the cycle.  Tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God.  Repent.  And when the enemy of our souls tries to remind you of the mess and your part in it, when he blames you for the fall out.  Stand strong.  Because he will.  Cry out.   Look up.  Reach out.

Memorial Day

The beaches, lakes and parks of the States are filled with people escaping for their three day weekend.  This weekend starts my own vacation, so I am right there with the masses.  Stores have marked down prices to attract buyers.  Churches today have low attendance.  Grocery stores have stocked up on hamburger meat, hot dogs and the buns that attend them.  In Vestavia Hills and Homewood, Alabama, American flags fly all along Highway 31.  Twenty years ago, on Memorial Day, I flew for the first time.  I flew from Atlanta to Portland then to Nagoya, Japan.  It was the perfect day to fly, you see, as my family were all off work that day so they could wave me off.  A little more than a year later, and I was back on American soil and have called Alabama home ever since.  As I sit writing, the beach out the window is filled with tents, umbrellas, coolers and radios.  I’ve seen kites, floaties and swimsuits today along with sunburns a plenty. 

But if you watch on Facebook, Twitter or any other social media, you will find the ones who remember what this weekend is all about.  One of my friends changes her profile picture to one of her dad as a (very) young man in his new Navy Blue’s, ears sticking out.  Another friend’s father was on the Beach at Normandy.  He was little more than a kid who lost many of his own friends that day.  Decoration Day is what it used to be called. Just after the Civil War (or the War of Northern Aggression as some Southerners call it) it was dedicated to the lives lost from both the Confederacy and the Union.  In a country ripped apart by war, slavery and hatred, it recognized all lives lost.  By the twentieth century, it was extended to remember and recognize all American lives lost in service of this amazing land. 

 

A few months ago, I was in San Antonio, Texas and my friends drove me through Fort Sam Houston.  She showed me her former home, her route to school, the PX, and the youth center.  On the way out, we drove past the cemetery.  I felt the weight of the cost of freedom.  But it didn’t end.  The more we drove the heavier it felt.  You see, there seemed to be no end to the gravestones.  The fields like the one you see, kept going.  Stone after stone, field after field.  It was overwhelming.  This friend’s father and husband are still alive.  They served without losing their lives.  Tina’s father and Marlene’s father both died old men.  But in this one cemetery, there are many who did not survive the wars and skirmishes that bought freedom for me.  As of 2008, there were over 120,000 graves. 

So, maybe instead of whispering our thanks as we bite into a hamburger or jump another wave, we should go a little farther.  Perhaps we should remind each other and teach the young that what we have comes at a great price.



 

He's Got This

The grief is a mist that permeates the very walls of their home.  Every breath, every heartbeat is saturated with it.  There are so many ways that she and her sister differ, but the grief overwhelms them equally.  They handle it differently, though.  The tears, the gasping for breath are the same, but the places are different.  She wants to pummel something, preferably dough for bread.  But the ‘helpers’ had overtaken her kitchen.  They said that they are helping, but she wants them out of her space.  They won’t leave, though.  They cook for her.  They clean for her.  They eat her food and sleep in her beds.  They are there to help, but there is no help to be had.  Why won’t they just leave?!

Then she sees Him coming.  The One who was supposed to be here over a week ago.  Where has He been?  What was more important than being there for a friend?  How could anything be more important than a promise?  She runs out to meet Him. 

“Where have You been?  Why weren’t You here?  We sent for You?” she cries.  But her heart begs for answers to a much more painful questions.  Where were You when I needed You?  Do I matter so little to You?  Is this how You treat a friend?  I thought I was Your friend!

He answers that this is not the end…  Great.  Yeah, we will have an eternity together.  Thanks…  That really helps now.  That answer might have worked a week ago.  Now?  It’s just letters strung together to make words, then words strung together to make a sentence. 

If my friend, Duane, had been there in that moment, he might have said something to Martha that he texted me the other night. 

“He’s got this.”

You see, those aren’t just letters, words or a sentence.  It’s a promise.  He knows.  He cares.  And He’s going to do something about it.  That was the bleakest moment of Martha’s life.  She thought the days before had been hard, but watching the only One who could have changed the circumstances walk in late?  No, that made it even darker.  Because those doubts that had been hidden or explained away almost destroyed her when He walked toward the house.  It was too late and He hadn’t cared enough to get there any earlier.  That’s as dark as it gets. 

And yet, by nightfall, everything had changed.  The sun had risen, her brother was somehow with her again and those painful questions had disappeared.  Because it hadn’t been too late.  He was right on time.  He had it handled. 

So when it’s darker than ever and those doubts, those questions are getting harder and more painful?

He’s got this.

What is Beauty?

 

I must admit that I, like many others, have become addicted to Pintrest.  I can spend hours on that site, just looking and pinning to my boards.  I remember my reaction when I first heard about Pintrest, I could not understand why people would do this.  What good is a virtual bulletin board?  It didn’t take me long to start pinning.  I still can’t tell you what good a virtual bulletin board is, I just know I have wasted many hours building a board, organizing and pinning.  My latest board is one I call ‘What is Beauty?’ 

This is what I feel that the Lord is teaching me right now.  Beauty has nothing to do with size, race, age, religion or creed.  Beauty is a concept that people of today truly do not understand.  Today, every commercial, advertisement, indeed every facet of entertainment screams to teach us what beauty should be.  And they couldn’t get it any more wrong. 

So here’s my definition of beauty.  The creation of God.  Nature.  Men, women and children showing true and deep emotion.  Beauty is a woman holding her daughter’s hand, whether she is your neighbor or the first lady.  Children laughing, whether they are share your color skin or not.  Heroes who gave their lives to save others.  People, looking into the eyes of the ones they love.  This is beauty.  And it can’t be bought from a store.  A hairdresser or a makeup artist can’t give it to you.  Jewelry, clothes and as much as I hate this, a pair of shoes does not bring beauty. 

Where do we go to find it?  First check your mirror.  You are His workmanship.  I know, I know.  We are His workmanship.  It’s easier to see in the faces around you, in the ones you love.  But it’s there even in the ones we don’t love.  He loves us.  He made us.  He considers us beautiful.  Because we are His.  He is beauty.  And because He is, so are we.

Secrets

What secrets do you hide?  When you are alone, or when no one is paying attention, what do you think, do, want?  Are these secrets silly, immature or dangerous?  Are they shortcomings?  Are they sinful?  Do you fight against them?  And are you successful?  How often do you fail?  Does that failure not add to your secrets?

Is your secret your love for God?  Do the unsaved in your life know your beliefs?  Would they be shocked to hear you praise God on Sunday morning?  How would your church family respond to hear the language you use outside the church?

Is your secret rooted in fantasy?  If your pastor looked at the history of your Internet browser, would you be ashamed?  Do you use the previous channel button on your TV remote to hide so no one can see?

Is your secret dissatisfaction?  Life isn’t or hasn’t turned out the way you want, and all you can do is complain?  You don’t have the right job, the right house or the right car?  And you worry that you will never have the right anything?

Are you afraid, terrified even?  Does every sound in your home cause your imagination to run away with you?  Do you worry what will happen to you?  To the ones you love?  Does fear motivate everything you do?

Maybe you struggle with a few of these.  Maybe you struggle with all and more.  Let us face the facts, thought.  Really, only one fact.  Not a one of these can stand up to the Cross.  In part or in whole, the Cross of Christ cancels out all.  Jesus came to bring light to the world.  Light is the enemy of secrets.  Light exposes all.  Dust, spills and stains.  Secrets tie us up.  They keep us from worshipping.  Secrets don’t want to be anywhere near the Cross.  They keep us from reading the Word.  They keep us from prayer and communion with God.  And anything that stops us from those things must be brought to light.  They must be taken to the Cross.  There, the Blood of Christ completely cleanses us from secrets.  See you there.

A Remoteless Life

Have you ever counted the number of remotes you have?  There are ten in my home, not counting the remote for the alarm system or the ones for the garage door.  Remotes have become staples in the lives of Americans today.  An attempt to describe life without remotes to today’s children brings the same responses that we gave to our elders when they described life without television, color or otherwise.  Incredulity.

I remember a spring break of mine years ago.  I had the flu and both of my parents worked.  In an attempt to get out of the prison my bed had become, my mother set me up on the couch in the den.  She set the regulatory water glass, peanut butter crackers and sweet tea, close at hand.  The only time I needed to get up was to walk to the bathroom.  She also turned on the TV to a channel that specialized in old movies.  Because there was no remote, I ended up watching black and white movie after black and white movie.  I felt too badly to get up, walk to the TV and physically turn the knob.  I slept through some of the classics.  And all because I had no remote.  I didn’t even miss it.

Today, when I am sick at home, two or three remotes are at my side. One for the TV, one for the satellite and another for the DVD/Blue Ray.  I can’t imagine a channel that I would want to leave on for hours.  Unless it was Duck Dynasty.  I think I could watch that for hours!  It would certainly make me feel better, but I digress.

This brings me to my point.  With all these remotes around to change the channel to something more comfortable, mute words we don’t want to hear, and pause the action when someone interrupts, what do we do when remotes don’t work?  I don’t mean when they just need batteries.  I mean when there isn’t a remote for the situation or the person.  When life gets hard, there is no pause or fast forward button.  When you don’t like the words or conversations that are surrounding you, there is no mute button.  When you are bored or uncomfortable in a situation, there are no other channels to turn to.  If you miss a moment, life isn’t a DVR and you can’t rewind.

Scripture tells us that God speaks in ‘a still, small Voice’.  As time passes and technology grows, it becomes harder and harder to hear His Voice.  And while we may not have a remote for God, it is VERY easy to ‘mute’ Him.  We change the channel to hear and watch something, anything other than what He wants us to experience.  We know that He is patient and we know that He loves us.  So it can be such a temptation to just pause Him.  He’s not going anywhere.  He promises that He is always with us.  So what’s the big deal?

A few weekends ago, I did this.  I glanced at my YouVersion.  I remember thinking as I saw the scripture of the day and the daily devotional, I don’t have the energy for this today.  Just forget it.  I’ll read it later.  I figuratively pushed pause and mute on God and His Word.  I knew what I was doing, I just didn’t care. 

Now I didn’t stop loving God.  I know who He is and what He has done for me.  I just didn’t have the energy or will to acknowledge them.  Then on Sunday morning, in the middle of praise, I remembered that choice.  That foolish, temper tantrum choice.  Yes, He still loved me.  Yes, He was still there, waiting for me.  But I had lost time.  Time to hear His beautiful Voice.  Time to feel His love and Spirit wash over and through me. 

This is the crime, folks.  This is what is lost when we try to use a remote on a big God.  Moments.  Moments that change lives.  Our lives.  The lives of others.  Yes, He loves us.  Yes, He is always there, just waiting for us.  And those things will never change.  But what are we missing when we take these truths for granted?  Put down the remote.  Leave the volume and channel where they are.  Bask in His Presence.  Watch and listen.  Rest and heal.  He is there.  He is speaking. 

Fishing for what?

Well, I'm back.  I have found myself in a strange state of mind this last year.  Avoiding writing like the plague!  The only thing I seem to enjoy is looking up anything I can find on Facebook & Pinterest...  It's as if I am afraid of what is buried deep inside me.  You know, the things that creativity could bring to the surface. 

There have been times when I fell back into the safety of surface living, but my heart tells me that the Lord isn't pleased with it.  Do you ever have those moments when emotions seem too difficult to allow sway?  I find myself wondering if God is working deep in me or have I just stepped back from Him.  Do we have to be open for Him to work? 

Several years ago, I was worshipping God with my church's youth group and it was an amazing time.  I wondered why my own worship didn't seem to have the results that this service was bringing.  Suddenly, I saw myself so clearly and I saw something that frightened me.  It was as if I was standing in a room and God was in the middle.  But up to that point, I had been standing with my back to Him.  My back to Him, but I still expected an intimate conversation.  That intimate moment could not happen until I turned to face Him.  When my back is turned to anyone, I cannot have any kind of communication, much less an intimate one!

Is this what I have been doing?  Backing off?  Distancing myself from anything that would infringe on my 'space'.  Oh, I know God can still work in me.  He is God, after all.  But have I done what the disciples did after Jesus' death?  They had lived with, watched, and ministered with the very Son of God.  They should have had everything they needed to begin their own ministries.  But what did they do?  They went to what they knew.  Fishing.  And not fishing for souls.  No fishing for fish, just what they had been doing before Jesus even came into their lives. 

Is this what I've been doing?  And if it is, then why?  Wouldn't His work in me go much easier and faster if I actually took part in it?  And am I willing to turn around, put the phone down, log off of the social pages and step forward?  What will be the cost?  What will be the reward?

On this day, the world was still dark. On this day, loneliness took on an entirely new meaning. On this day, it appeared that evil had won. On this day, followers were in hiding. On this day, the future was unsecure for believers and unbelievers. On this day, hope was still lost. On this day, the tomb still held the Body of the Beloved. On this day, the stone was still. On this day, guards stood unchallenged. The earth still mourned its Creator. The curtain was still torn.

Do you ever wonder what was going through the minds of Pilot, the religious leaders and Barrabas? We spend so much time remembering the followers of Christ, but where were the minds of those instrumental in His execution? Were they holding their breaths, waiting for the third day? Or were they resting easier as each hour passed? My imagination has Pilate's wife in torment. She knew that her husband had crossed the line. But what about everyone else? I picture the earth as being on 'pause', just waiting for the Creator's reaction.

It's so easy, from 2000 years later to judge them. We know what happens next. We know that the stone is tossed away by the power of the Holy Spirit. The hidden followers become the great leaders of the Church. The curtain was torn and the presence of God was never held from man again. Hope was NOT lost. Evil had been defeated. Dawn was merely hours away.

He is risen! He is risen, indeed!

Promises, promises

"Nothing compares to the promise I have in You."

Along with the rest of the world, I discovered this song several years ago. It is one that touches my heart, deeply. I find myself closing my eyes and singing with complete abandonment when I do sing it. I'm ashamed to say that after about two years of singing this, I found myself asking, "What is the promise?" Now, I was raised my two Godly parents who had also been raised by Godly parents, so why did I have to ask? I think I wanted to specify so that I could honestly believe that there is nothing on this earth or in the heavens that could begin to compare to His promise. So, what is that promise?

Both the Old and New Testaments are filled with promises from God. Promises for a long life when we obey His commands. Promises to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob (Israel). Promises to the enemies of His people. Promises to the mighty men of Adam, Noah and Joseph. The beautiful and wondrous promise of the Messiah. The promise to cleanse our sins and carry our burdens. The promise of a living, breathing relationship with the Holy Spirit. The promise of His return and our eternal home. I mean, take your pick, people! His promises to us are numerous! To my, sometimes, literal mind I wanted something different. I wanted to know which specific promise was incomparable.

So, like Winnie the Pooh, I 'thunk'. I thunk and I thunk and I thunk. Why do we 'thunk' instead of just asking Him? Finally, I felt the gentle reminder of the Holy Spirit. He reminded me that I am never alone. That even to the ends of the earth and the ends of time, He is with me. He will NEVER leave me. He will NEVER forsake me. And that, my friends, is a promise that is beyond compare.

Forgive? Are you kidding?

Can we truly ever understand forgiveness? Think about it. Have you forgiven the person who cut you off in traffic this morning? If we can't do that, how are we supposed to forgive those who hurt us the most? The friend that turned their back when we needed them most? The hand that reached out in hate, not love? The lie that turned others against us? What about our leaders? The ones who seem to disappoint just when we start to trust?

Scriptures tell us, no command us to forgive. But surely He didn't mean those circumstances I just listed! Doesn't God know what that person did to us? Maybe if I tell Him about it, He will see my point. Maybe if I complain and whine long enough, He will take my side. I would be willing to bet that's what the disciples meant when they asked Jesus how often we should forgive.

He surprised them, of course. He requires us to forgive. And before His crucifixion, the disciples could have said that He couldn't understand. But then there was that execution. Was there ever a more violent, despicable execution? If he, hanging on that cross, could express forgiveness how can we not? He understands your worst. He understands the worst that has been done to you. He chooses to forgive you. And somehow He understands the one who did the worst to you. He is there to forgive them. Like it or not, He is forgiveness at His core. And if we are to be like Him, this is something we must learn. Because I believe that forgiveness is not at our core, He has to teach us. So, let's learn.

September?!?!? Are you serious?!?!? I haven't posted since September?!?! Well, no, I haven't died, quit writing or decided to close out this blog. I am just a victim of time flying, as well as being lost in my own procrastination. I would like to blame the Christmas drama, but there were many times I sat in front of my computer playing games & reading other blogs, so that won't hold any weight. So, I'm back. I'm tempted to promise to write more frequently. And I probably would... for a little while. Then I would drop off the blog world again. Wish I could tell you differently, but since I'm in my forties, I don't think I'm going to change that much.

I hope you felt the presence of the Holy Spirit and the Cross of Christ this past Holiday season. I hope that the January "blah's" are keeping their distance. I've got several post ideas brewing and I promise to write them down before they go the way of snow in the Deep South! Happy New Year!

Faith of a Child - Part 4

"She's being a butt-face!" Little Girl

"That's not a nice thing to say.

Maybe you can pray that she will be

nicer tomorrow, " Mommy

"I know what I'll pray!

I'm gonna ask God

to put a sock in her mouth!" Little Girl.

Search the world over, and you will never find anyone more honest that a child, or the childlike. On one of my friend's FaceBook status, he mentioned that his first experience in kids church was a child saying that he needed help 'wiping'. Now if you've worked with children this does not frighten you at all, or even make you pause. To the rookie, a statement like that can blow you away!

Children are not political. They don't know the meaning of the word tact. They don't see multiple sides of each view. They only see their own. They have to be taught the proper times and places for words. But something can be lost. That 'something' is what these last posts have been all about. This one? It's about honesty. Loose that facade. Drop the mask. Show yourself, raw and wounded. Honesty.

I remember growing up in Sunday School when no one wanted to pray out loud. We were old enough to be concerned about what we would say and how it would sound. Not just to God, but to the friends around us who were hearing also. In the decades since then, I have come to an understanding. The only One that is listening and that matters is not going to diagram your sentence. He's not grading your grammar. He doesn't even care if the words make sense. You see, He hears your heart. So no matter how bad or good your prayer sounds, He's not only listening to it. He's hearing what you're thinking. He's hearing the honesty.

So, step back. Use your words. The ones that expose you. Stomp your foot. He's not intimidated. Wait and see, He will be honest with you. Be honest with Him.

Faith of a Child - 3

Jesus loves the little children,

all the children of the world.

Red and yellow, black and white,

they are precious in His sight.

Jesus loves the little children

of the world.

Prejudice is nothing new. Even Elizabeth Bennett in Jane Austin's novel held her own prejudices. Everyone struggles with prejudice. Anyone who says otherwise is either lying or hasn't dug deep enough into themselves. The biggies are race, gender, creed or religion. But the truth is, we are all prejudice or afraid of anything or anyone different. That 'different' could be from ourselves or even what we have become accustomed to.

A perfect representation is what has happened across the Deep South and East Coast over the last few decades. When Central American immigrants began to travel east, we here in the South were faced with a new race in our neighborhoods, grocery stores and schools. Used to only two races in our communities, we have had to adjust. And who among us adjusts to change well? The Australian Aborigines were not a free people until the middle to end of the twentieth century. That is in our lifetime and how can that be possible? The Jews of the 1940's were called 'Christ Killers'. Have we forgotten that it was our sin that held Him on those beams of wood? He hasn't.

Is this the way He wants us to live? Obviously not, as the words of that little chorus tell us. No matter who or what they are, Jesus loves them. No matter who or what you are, He loves you. Scriptures tell us that He does not respect one person above another. King or peasant. Millionaire or beggar. Slave or slaver. Believer or unbeliever. Not one of us can outrun His love for us. Even our own hate is snuffed out by His love. There is not one moment of your life that He has not loved you. Whether you are the victim or abuser. He was grieved by what you did or what you received and He loved you. In that horrible moment, He loved you.

Faith of a Child - Part 2

I see the moon and the moon sees me.

The moon sees someone I can't see.

God bless the moon and God bless me.

God bless someone I can't see.

A coworker of mine quoted this prayer to me. She learned it when she was a little girl. We agreed that it was a sweet prayer for a child to pray. Then we both thought about it for a few minutes. It is more than a child's prayer. It says much more.We live in a world of goodbyes. We always have. But in this day and age, this world is smaller than ever. Thanks to unlimited texting, free long distance, FaceBook and Skype, 'goodbye' is temporary. It only lasts until the next 'hello'. That leaves only one question, 'Can any of these amazing creations replace the connection of a hug or the touch of a hand?'

They cannot. And there are always going to be moments that we miss. Moments when we can't see the ones we love. Parents who are deployed throughout the world. Broken homes. Job transfers. The fact remains that the same moon we see above us, is the same moon those loved ones see as well. And the same God, sees them just as closely and intimately as He sees us.

So those moments when all you want is a hug from that missing loved one; when you long to hold their hand; when you long to sit next to them in sweet silence, remember that prayer. Remember that the Lord of all the universe holds you both in His Hand.

God bless someone I cannot see.

Faith of a Child - Part 1

13-16The people brought children to Jesus, hoping he might touch them. The disciples shooed them off. But Jesus was irate and let them know it: "Don't push these children away. Don't ever get between them and me. These children are at the very center of life in the kingdom. Mark this: Unless you accept God's kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you'll never get in." Then, gathering the children up in his arms, he laid his hands of blessing on them.

Mark 10:13-16

The Message

Over the next few posts I will be writing about the beauty that is faith from the perspective of a child. So often, we Christians, over analyze, over complicate life and all it entails. You can't fake it for long with children. They tend to see the bottom line. They don't worry about the manners or embarrassing truths that we avoid mentioning in 'polite' society. There is so much we can learn from them. There is so much we can learn by returning to the simple things. The Bible stories, the prayers, the songs. We may know them all, but how often to we concentrate on the words? On the truths?

I have the next two posts already, but if you have your own ideas, please leave a comment. This group of posts can be as long as we want. So put down your pens and pick up your crayons. Stop walking and skip a few steps. Take your mom's or dad's hand and hold it. Don't worry about your grammar or spelling, just say it. Go to bed early. Watch an old cartoon. Sing at the top of your lungs, whether or not it sounds good. Throw your head back and laugh loud, long and hard. Be 'little' for a while with me. Let's see where it takes us.

Stabilze

Walk into any emergency room in the US and you will see the same things. People waiting. Loved ones, waiting to hear. Sick and injured waiting to be seen. Worry. Pain. Fatigue. Impatience. But follow the hallway and through the doors you will find a different picture. Oh, you will still see the worry, pain and fatigue. But in the place of all the waiting, you will see motion. Nurses, radiologists, lab techs and doctors. All moving. You see, in this area, these are the most emergent cases. These are the patients who can't wait in that room. Here you will find trauma. Here is all the action. And what's the name of the game? Stability. All the professionals are working toward that goal. Keep those lungs working. Stop the bleeding. Get that heart pumping. These are not the professionals who worry about scars. Life is the goal, not the quality of it.

Do you ever feel that you're in God's ER? Maybe you're waiting... Waiting... Waiting... Maybe you're bleeding out. Maybe you're lung is punctured. Maybe you've experienced a spinal injury and you can't feel anything. Something isn't working and it's a major crisis. You're on the gurney. Worried. Hurting. Tired. You can't feel or see it, but He's working. His goal is to get you stable. And what's next? Maybe getting stable is all the help you need. Sometimes the problem is much deeper. He's working on the symptoms because you aren't in a healthy environment. He's pumping you full of fluids. Watching your blood pressure and heart rhythms. And once you're stable?

Then He moves you. He finds a clean room and bed. He puts the right staff around you to monitor you. He's gotten the bleeding stopped. Now it's time to treat the cause. Now it's time to get you healed. It may required extensive surgery. Or painful therapy. You weren't ready before, but now you're stable. It's a mess. You're a mess. But you're one step closer to healing. Sometimes it's just a paper cut. But many times, it's worse. A lot worse.

It's a long and painful process. Lonely. But this hospital, this place of healing, is full of people. People who are going through this very process. Just at different levels than you. Don't rush it. Take it at His pace. He knows the beginning and the end better than you do. We have all been there and His are the gentlest of Hands.

Judge Not...

There is a reason that God, in His infinite wisdom, told us not to judge others. He did tell us to watch the actions (fruits) of others. He did tell us to be wise. He also commanded us to love. How can we truly love when we are grilling someone on the witness stand or strapping them into the electric chair?

Judging is some serious business. When we judge, we decide that we are God. We decide that we are better than He. We decide that we know more than He knows. There are some problems with that, besides the fact that we are NOT God. All we can see are the actions, the words and the results of that person. While those can be very damning, there is something missing. And that something is very large. That is the heart of the defendant. We cannot see, no matter how well we know them, what their motivations were. Even if we spent days, weeks or even years trying to learn their heart, we would never understand them as their Maker does.

The basic reason for this can be found in the Book of Genesis. The story of the Tower of Babel. When we all speak the same language, when we all think the same, we can make the decision that there is no need for God. So He introduced languages to the builders. It was quite disastrous at the time, but something beautiful (and frustrating) came out of it. We found that we need a Mediator. And who better than our Lord?

So the next time that car cuts you off on the interstate, pause. They may be rushing to a loved one's side. The next time your office manager speaks sharply, pause. They may have just received bad news. The next time a dear friend doesn't notice your pain, pause. They may be in pain themselves. Ask Him to see through His Eyes. Have you taken the time to hear the heart of the defendant? Have you taken the time to put yourselves in their place? Be quick to listen and very slow to judge.

Fighting the Inevitable

18 On the seventh day the child died. David's servants were afraid to tell him that the child was dead, for they thought, "While the child was still living, we spoke to David but he would not listen to us. How can we tell him the child is dead? He may do something desperate."
19 David noticed that his servants were whispering among themselves and he realized the child was dead. "Is the child dead?" he asked. "Yes," they replied, "he is dead."
20 Then David got up from the ground. After he had washed, put on lotions and changed his clothes, he went into the house of the LORD and worshiped. Then he went to his own house, and at his request they served him food, and he ate.
21 His servants asked him, "Why are you acting this way? While the child was alive, you fasted and wept, but now that the child is dead, you get up and eat!"
22 He answered, "While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept. I thought, 'Who knows? The LORD may be gracious to me and let the child live.' 23 But now that he is dead, why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him, but he will not return to me."

2 Samuel 12:18-23

David knew that this child was going to die. Nathan, the prophet, had told him that because of his repentance, David would live, but his son would die. Even so, when the boy became ill, David fasted and prayed. Why did he fight it? Then, why did he not grieve afterward? So many times, I wish that the writers of the Bible would give me more information. I want to know how David felt in the days, weeks, months after his son died. How did he feel and act on the anniversary of his little boy's birth and death? We won't know this side of Heaven. But I still wonder.

I have fought the inevitable. For a year and a half, I grasped at straws, pretended not to hear my doctor when he used the word hysterectomy. I tried to bargain my way out of infertility. Then I stopped fighting. I gave up what I had always wanted and always believed would be my future. Are there moments when I grieve? Absolutely. Do I believe that this was God's road for me? Absolutely.

So, is there something wrong with fighting the inevitable? I don't think so. Without hope, how can we survive? Didn't Jesus, Himself, ask for some other way moments before He was taken by the Roman soldiers? The God we serve is not threatened by our fears, our anger and our tears. In other words, He is not threatened by our fighting. We cannot see our futures, but He can. We cannot see around the bend of our road. But He can.

There were many people in the Bible whose prayers, fasting and cries moved the heart of God. Moses, Jonah, Hannah. Find their stories. Read them. Learn from them. Fight the inevitable. You never know when it isn't inevitable.

The Cost

How much does it cost? How much would you be willing to give up to follow Christ? That is a question that is rarely asked. In this 'feel good' society and time that we live in it isn't a very popular thought. Has Jesus' question to the rich young ruler ever plagued you? Is He asking the same of all of us?

C.S. Lewis stated (with my interpretation) that we welcome Him into the tiny house that is our hearts. We open up the rooms that we want Him to see, but lock the one that we don't want Him to see. He is not interested in leaving our hearts the way in which He found them. He begins to open locked doors, knock down walls and begin a complete renovation. The goal is become as Christ-like as possible. He builds a mansion out of our tiny little bungalow. While the end result is stunning beauty and there can be moments of amazing joy and beautiful moments with Him. However, changes like this also cause pain along with facing what we have stored in those locked rooms.

In the Japanese culture, the present generation's job & duty is to keep a shrine. That shrine is to be kept clean & spotless. It is at that shrine that the Japanese pray. They pray to their ancestors. This is how they honor the generations that came before. When a Japanese person becomes a Christian, they stop praying to their ancestors and begin praying to the one and true God. They turn their back on their ancestors. They turn their back on their parents, their family. To become a Christian means that they pay a high price.

So, we are back to the question, how much does becoming Christ-like cost us? And are you willing to pay it? The rich young ruler couldn't turn his back on his riches. What habits, sins and cultures are we going to turn our backs on? And what do we get in return?

A Lord who stays closer than a brother. Freedom that comes from binding ourselves to Him. An entirely new family. I believe that there can only be facades of peace and happiness without Him. As Jesus told the woman at the well, the thirst is only quenched for a short time. She would have to come back again and again to the well. He is the well that never runs dry. And the cost for this well? Nothing we could hold onto is worth losing what He has to offer.