No Greater Love

The children led in worship this morning at church. They were an inspiration to most if not all who were there, for they didn't "perform"... they worshiped.  As they did, a theme emerged: the death and resurrection of Jesus so that we might live.

That sounds so basic, so very "yeah, so tell me something I DON'T know..."  But that's just it, isn't it?  Haven't we become blasé about the cross, about the great love of God?  haven't we become so used to it that we take it for granted? that we've forgotten the fiery hell from which He saved us?

Do we even really believe that He loves us?

I don't know about you but I have a hard time sometimes believing it.  My life experiences and my own woundedness get in the way and all of a sudden His love seems the farthest thing from my consciousness.  That's why when I saw the movie "Matthew" based on the gospel of Matthew (the photos are from that movie starring Bruce Marchiano as Jesus) the two words that come to me uppermost are love - and joy.

Can we not believe that Jesus joyed in the healing miracles He performed? that He didn't get a kick out of seeing someone with leprosy be able to touch members of his own family again for the first time in years? Of course He did!  Love oozed from Him because He was walking daily with the Father - by the power of the Holy Spirit - just as He said we would be able to do after He went back to the Father.

And when He died on a Roman cross, put there by His own people, can we not believe that the love and compassion He showed there on that day was just as much for us as it was for those who had beaten Him, ripped out His beard, and drove the nails in His body?

One of my favorite scenes in the movie is when Jesus heals the leper who believes that Jesus CAN heal him - but WILL He??  See the love.... in the clip below.

 

One old alcoholic lady, sober for years through the AA program (which in itself is a blueprint for a relationship with God) said this:  "I know not whether God in His mercy will open the gates of Heaven for me.  All I know is that He opened the gates of hell for me ... and let me out."

What if we could get a glimpse of just how much He loves us?  What if we could dare to believe that and let it sink deep into our spirits?  One thing is sure: we would never need to TRY to talk to people about our faith.  We couldn't help ourselves... not because we felt we should - but because (and only because) we are so grateful that He loves us.  

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

We saw it going through school.  Perhaps we did it; perhaps we had it done to us.

Some of us experienced it at home, even.  Unspeakable things said and done to the most vulnerable of humans: children in a relationship with parent, sibling, relative, mentor. Unspeakable.

Bullying (abuse, discrimination, harassment) hurts.  It hurts everyone: aggressor, victim, bystanders, friends, relatives, those in authority and those with none at all.  And if humans are constantly evolving into a better state ... I really don't see it.  Except that it's worse, more intense, and lasts longer when it happens now than it did when I was growing up.

It doesn't end at graduation either.  Bullies in the school playground or in the locker room become bullies in whatever profession they choose.  Some of these are on construction sites and in stores; others are in the boardroom, still others become teachers, doctors, lawyers, or coaches themselves and trample all over their peers to get to be in charge.  Workplace bullying is very real.  It might look a bit more subtle but it happens just the same.  Harassment, whether sexual, physical, verbal or exclusion, is the cause of so  many people becoming depressed, getting physically sick, less productive, and more apt to entertain thoughts of suicide.  And it doesn't just happen there.

It happens in the church too.

How often we've trusted someone in the church, someone who has betrayed us after we opened our heart to that person.  How many times we've left a church service or a church-sponsored event feeling bullied, condemned, or torn to pieces by something said either over the pulpit or in the hallways by those who, twenty or thirty minutes earlier, had their eyes raised heavenward and were singing their hallelujahs and shouting their Amens!!  One would think that Christians, because we answer to a higher power than the state, would be the first to treat each other with respect.  In many cases we do.  Sadly, though, some of the worst hurts of all have come from within the four walls of supposedly the safest place to be: church.

The Canadian Human Rights Commission is very clear.  Harassment (or bullying) is not acceptable and is against the law. See their definition by clicking this link.  That I would even feel the need to talk about this issue ... saddens me.  Every day, there are people considering the unthinkable just because someone will not get off their case.


So for the record, here are some simple guidelines.

1. Treat others the way you wish they would treat you.  (This does NOT include making sexual advances in any form!!)
2. Silence does not necessarily mean agreement. If in doubt about how someone really feels, back off and lighten up or they'll NEVER share how they feel.
3. Friendship does NOT mean you can say what you want in whatever way you want, and the other person will separate the wheat from the chaff.  That's not friendship, that's having a whipping boy.
4. Every person, no matter what they look like or how old, rich, skinny, or charismatic they are, is worthy of consideration and respect.  People don't go around carrying big signs that say what they're struggling with.  Everyone needs another chance.

In conclusion, let me point you to a video someone shared with me recently, something that touches the every-day.  It might help you (as it did me) see the world with new eyes. I can't display the video here, but I can give you the link on YouTube...


Paradigm Shift Video

A simple connection

A card was waiting for me on the breakfast table yesterday; it had come in the mail the night before and I hadn't seen it. It was addressed to Judy and family, and it was from the Vet Clinic.

It had only been a week since my cat Cody had to be put down. Inside the envelope, on the front of the card, I saw a photo much like the one on the left, with a caption like, "Real friends leave lasting impressions on our hearts."

Inside was a short but heart-felt hand-written message of sympathy from the vets and staff of the clinic. I recognized the handwriting from so many charts I had seen with the same pen; it was of the very doctor who had handled the euthanasia, and I was reminded again of the compassion and the care shown to both Cody and us in his final hour and afterward.

And I lost it. Tears bubbled up and spilled over. It was an unexpected reminder of happier memories, mingled with the sad one, and gratitude welling up for such wonderfully caring people as Doctors Lisa and Andrew, and of course Anne-Marie, their assistant who has been there at the clinic from the very first time we walked in with one of our charges.

They are two such powerful words, yet they seem so inadequate to express the depth of emotion felt at a time like that. But I say them anyway.
Thank you.

Be Yourself

"Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken."
- - Oscar Wilde

The injunction to "be yourself" used to frustrate me so much. The struggle to be authentic just didn't work for me - I was always changing to suit the person I was with, a real chameleon. It took me a long time to figure out why I just couldn't "be myself."

I didn't know who "me" really was. I'd never gotten to know myself, I was taught never to trust myself, and certainly didn't like myself (at least the self I thought I was). The person I had become was someone who survived an abusive past, had to adopt certain coping mechanisms to survive that intact, and retained those coping mechanisms, using them on others in my life when those behaviors were no longer necessary. It's in a small way the same process that soldiers go through after witnessing atrocities overseas and being afraid for their lives while in a war zone, and then returning home where it's safe. But they are still on "red alert." Never able to shut the warning bells off, they lose the joy they used to have in their social, family, and recreational pursuits.

With me, my childhood was such that I felt that I needed to control something - anything - anyone - to give myself a sense of balance. But even when I got what I wanted (and I did at times) the victory was a hollow one. More times than not, it drove people away, made them not want to hang around me. I needed so intensely that people were scared away by it. I opened myself up to people too quickly, too deeply - and they accused me of playing the victim. But it got me attention, and I ate that up. I did the same thing with my husband - controlled him by manipulating, guilting him into doing things for me. He loved me, and he did things for me anyway because he loved me, but there were times that I am sure he wished I would just grow up and "get it."

And then when I had children, I tried to control them too. It was okay at first because they were little and they didn't know any better. But as they got older, they started to resent my controlling ways. By that time I was hopelessly addicted to it and couldn't have stopped it even if I had tried. I had to control what they said, did, watched, listened to, thought and believed. At the same time I was dealing with a husband who had become an alcoholic without my permission. I tried to control him and he just drank more. When I confronted him, he was contrite and then went and drank behind my back and then lied about it. I did all the wrong things: I poured the stuff down the sink, threatened to leave, yelled, withheld sex, gave him the silent treatment, and complained about him to the children. They loved him - and they seemed to hate me. I was so confused and upset. I wanted everyone to be happy and of course they couldn't be happy unless and until they were like me. (Oh really? was I happy??)

When I hit my lowest point in December 2008, and realized that I needed help to be able to "help my husband" with his drinking problem - I found a family counselor who "clicked" with me. I believe God brought that relationship into being when the time was right.

I distinctly remember sitting in my counselor's office, early in the process, and him telling me that along the way, in looking after everyone else in my life, I had lost myself and that I needed to find me again. I broke - shattered into scores of confused pieces inside. "I don't even know who that person is!" I sobbed. "And I am SO afraid that even if I find out who she is, I won't like her!"

Truth about myself began inside of me on that day. That was the beginning of my healing process, my recovery from that obsessional mind-set, that need to control. I did start to find myself finally - and to my surprise I discovered that I actually was (and am) starting to like that person.

Who knew?

I needed to control, for all those years, because I hurt so much. Over the course of the following year in this process of inner healing, I learned how to let God enter those wounds, to let Him have those hurts and take them away. Once I didn't hurt anymore, I didn't need to control people anymore. I learned to "lighten up." My kids noticed the change, and they started to like me for the first time since they were very young. And my husband - well, I'll just say that a month ago he celebrated 18 months of sobriety, on his own journey of recovery that has somewhat mirrored my own...

And the best part is, I didn't have anything to do with it. YAY GOD!!

Blown Away

I love to watch Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. There's something amazing to me about how someone can be in such a desperate situation and then they get something they never expected and could barely dream about. The first thing that happens after the family is safely away on vacation is that what is old has to come down. And come down it does. It seems they're always finding new ways to bring down the old house.

The old house represents stress, limitations, worry, fear, anger, and a whole host of other nasty things that the family experiences. In the following clip, those emotions are demolished in a moment of time and leave room for the above house to be built.
 
There's something though, about this type of show that sort of bothers me. I could never really put my finger on it until just recently, and then it all became clear as I heard our pastor talk about what Jesus did for us while we were still in our darkness, when we were still rejecting Him.

What about the person who ISN'T taking in handicapped kids and adopting them, but is just working faithfully to pay the bills for the spouse and kids he/she has? What about the one who ISN'T fund-raising for Multiple Sclerosis or the Heart Foundation, or who DOESN'T have terminal cancer and up to their eyeballs in medical debt, or who ISN'T making a huge impact on their community in some way, but just slogs away, day after day, dealing with all kinds of insults and ingratitude even from people in their families, and keeps on because it's the right thing to do? It appears that the TV show only has the budget to help those who "deserve" the help. I know that ABC only has so much money and that they are looking for a good story. It's good television. And I do like the show for a lot more reasons than just the family getting a new home.

What I'm trying to do is use this as a springboard to talk about something even more important than a nice home.

The Bible tells us that we might hesitate to die for a righteous man, and that some of us would even dare to die for a good man. But Jesus went way above and beyond.

He died for us when we were still spitting in His face.

In His great love, He did it anyway, without regard to how we would take it, whether we would accept it, or whether we even deserved it. He knew we didn't deserve it.

And yet the Great Carpenter offers a new life, a totally radical makeover - complete with demolition, design, construction ... and a final Reveal that's out of this world.

That's Extreme.

Watch - and Listen

I can't improve on the message I'm about to share with you.

Please watch - and listen. It's called "GoD and DoG."

Take a breath

Every once in a while, after a series of emotional body-blows, it's like God calls a "time-out" in my life. The storm clears, the wind dies down, and He invites me to "take a breath." Stop. Breathe. Re-orient. Rest.

About 8 years ago I stumbled on something that King David said when he talked about how well God knew him. I read it in the New Living Translation. "You chart the path ahead of me and tell me where to stop and rest. Every moment You know where I am." (Psalm 139:3)

The tacit permission that gave my spirit - to be where I was, to feel what I felt, and to take the time I needed to rest - has come to my aid so many times in my recovery.

This week I've needed to do that again. It's been very comforting to know that even when I think that my life is spinning out of control, He has gone ahead of me and will give me a rest stop, a place to pause and take a breath before going on. And that no matter where I am, He knows where I am and ... He's not nervous about it; He knows what's ahead.

I can trust - and rest - in Him.

A loving touch

The first time I touched Cody, it was to comfort him in a very scary place for him: the local animal shelter. (See my first post on Cody, here.)

Even in the middle of that place, with dogs barking in the background, when I stroked his face, he leaned in to my hand and began to purr - a sputtering, deep-throated muttering.

Twelve years later, the last touch of which he was aware - today - was mine. It was a loving touch, meant to communicate comfort in what was a very scary situation for him. The vet sedated him, and put him in my arms. Over the next two or three minutes, he relaxed as I stroked him. He didn't even have time to start to purr. It was straight from fear to a relaxed state, do not pass go, do not collect $200.

My touch, my voice was with him as he entered a state of mind free from stress. Once he had relaxed, I placed him gently on a little hand-towel we'd placed on the examining table, and I kept stroking him until the vet came back in with a pair of clippers. I didn't see a needle. As arranged, I left the room and my hubby supervised the actual euthanasia. He told me it was handled tenderly, lovingly, and with great compassion.

Over the past few months, he had not been feeling very well. He lost weight; he began to drink more and more. The last month, he started to follow us around and meow at us. He wanted to be with us; if prevented he would become irritated and take out his frustrations by urinating on our clean laundry, on carpets, on beds. He was less and less contented and more and more demanding. Finally I called the vet. As I described his symptoms, it became more and more clear that he was getting less and less comfortable and that something was definitely wrong.

Which brings me to today. A brief examination showed that although he was drinking over three times more than a cat his size should have been drinking, his veins had almost collapsed from dehydration. Only one thing could do that. "Cancer - most likely of the kidneys."

That explained the meowing. "Mom - make it stop. Please."

Given his age - 16 - he would not survive an operation. Without one, he would have been in more and more pain, and not survived the winter.

It was the right decision to have him put down. But that didn't make it any easier, nor did it make me hurt any less.

But at least now, after 18 or so months of recovery, I can allow myself to hurt. I can allow myself to feel the sadness, and instead of lashing out at my loved ones and hurting them I can be there to share in their sadness. Together, we will emerge from our grief and retain the good memories.

Somehow, I cannot help but picture Cody in all his glory curled up in the Master's lap. Purring.

What's in it for me?

Every once in a while, a pastor or minister will preach a sermon on something that believers "ought" to be doing. Praying, reading the Bible, tithing, and so forth.

Let's use tithing - a largely misunderstood concept - for the sake of argument. It's commanded in Malachi 3:10 - give a tenth of the income to God, right off the top. After exposing their heart attitudes of "giving God the leftovers", God actually dares the people to test the principle of "tithing off the top of the pile" and see for themselves the blessing He will pour into their lives because they put Him first.

Face value is face value; the principle of tithing does work. But fear value is fear value too. Jesus is about the heart. He is about generosity out of a sense of gratitude, not out of a sense of obligation or of fear of what will happen if we don't "toe the line."

I believe in tithing; I tithe because He gave everything for me, and to remind myself that He gets first place, my best, not leftovers. Time after time God has provided for me as I have given Him not only my money but also every area of my life. I'm not disputing that tithing "works"; I have experienced it in my life. But to hear some of these preachers talk, you'd think that God is into retribution if you don't tithe, that the church isn't in revival because not everyone in the whole church tithes, that the reason why the Lord's return isn't happening is because somehow we are preventing it by not doing what we are supposed to do. The rules and regulations start coming out of the woodwork, and always and ever, the "promise" of blessing (or the withholding of it) is held out like a club over your head.

That wasn't God's intent. He wanted people to give their money, not because He needs it (because He doesn't!!) but as a symbol, a reminder that He made the first move by making it possible for us to even approach Him in the first place. We give out of gratitude for what He has given, not out of a desire to get more (even if we DO intend to bless others with it!) Focusing on the blessing in store - is bribing (see the drawing above) and it misses the whole point. It puts the focus on our performance, not on Him. The whole idea of 'blessing' (and the crafty ones say it's not just financial blessing but miracles, revival, etc.) in return for tithing, just panders to the idea that we can help God do His work, that we can hinder His plan by not doing what we are "supposed" to do, that we can make His kingdom appear on earth just because we open our pocketbooks or our wallets. Another term for all that is "the pride of life." The "reward" aspect of it appeals to the lust of the eyes (it looks/sounds good, appeals to our sense of equity) and the lust of the flesh (we can get more stuff if we give more). The enemy perpetrates this kind of "gimme" heresy by mixing it with the truth that putting God first in everything is its own reward.

The missing ingredient (as with all religion-based heresy) is the heart-attitude. It's out of a profound sense of thankfulness that we give... not to get a blessing.

Jesus started a kingdom of the heart without money. Not without personal cost to Him - but without money. He Himself said that His kingdom is not of this world because if it were, His servants would fight. He was the One who took the initiative. Humans had nothing to do with this. Humans didn't choose the time of His coming; God did. Humans didn't even believe He was who He said He was. He came anyway. Even if NOBODY ever accepted His free gift, He STILL would have gone to the cross. That's love. That's heart. That's giving.

That's the point.

Work at Rest

"Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light." - Jesus

There are a few seeming paradoxes in the Bible and especially in the teachings of Jesus. Lose your life and you will find it. Give and you will receive. Humble yourself and you will be exalted. You get the idea.

Perhaps the most mystifying is the directive in the book of Hebrews that tells us that there is a rest promised to the people of God and that we are to "labor to enter into that rest." Prior to that the writer of Hebrews talked about ceasing from striving, just as Abraham ceased from his own efforts and just believed. So did a whole host of others, as Hebrews outlined. So this rest is not Heaven; it is a state of mind, of contentment.

"Labor to enter into that rest." Sounds weird. Kind of like when Jesus talked about the yoke He wanted us to wear. How anyone could find rest with a yoke (physical OR spiritual) strapped on, is beyond human understanding. Until you realize what a yoke does. It focuses the animal on the task in front of it. And ONLY on that task. It trains the ox to live in the moment, to cooperate with every step, to listen to the master. Further, when a young ox needs to be taught how to function in the yoke, how to receive instruction for that moment and that moment only, it is paired with an older, more experienced ox, who will keep the younger one on the path and teach it to respond to the master's commands.

That Jesus would use that illustration not only spoke to the farmers and others in that rural community, but it gave a very powerful hint at the secret to a happy life. That secret is living in the NOW. This is where the illustration above comes in. The New Testament calls the Holy Spirit, who comes to live in us the moment we personally cling to the sacrifice of Jesus as the only way to relationship with God, a Counselor. The Greek word used here is parakletos, meaning advocate, or one "called alongside to help." Fighting against the yoke, being distracted from the moment, causes much distress to the young ox until it gives up its own agenda and works with the older, more powerful ox. Instantly the task becomes much easier, and the drag on the yoke ceases. The job is done in half the time. "My yoke is easy and My burden is light."

In fact, once the ox has learned to live in the moment, it is common to see the pair chewing their cuds while working side by side. A ruminant like a cow or an ox will not chew its cud if it is stressed. Such an animal chewing its cud is a picture of rest, of contentment. It has learned to listen; it has submitted its will to the care and instruction of the master, and it has found peace.

Finding that place of peace takes work. Not busywork. Not following a set of rules and regulations. It takes work to make a priority out of spending time with Him and listening to His voice. Not because we're "supposed to" but because He is our life. Once that willing communion, that ready fellowship and cooperation happens, there is rest.

Walking Together

One of my favorite things to do is to take a walk in the woods, preferably hand in hand with my hubby. We used to do that a lot before the demands of family pulled us away from those simple pleasures. Now, whenever it happens, we appreciate it even more and make every moment count.

On walks in the woods we've seen squirrels, rabbits, jays, even a woodpecker once. When we talked, we spoke about important things of the heart, planned for the future, celebrated the present, reminisced over delicious memories.

Always the trees bore silent witness to our trysting.

Looking out the living room window this morning and seeing the sun filter through the maple branches, I found my thoughts drifting to those sweet moments, captured amid the heady fragrance of pine needles and autumn leaves, with no sound other than our own breathing, the crunch and occasional twig-snap of our footsteps, and the voices of the animals and birds with whom we shared our ramblings. That's a picture of close communion, one which needs no words. Sometimes, we would use words - but often we would just enjoy each other's company and bask together in the beauty all around us.

I like to think that fellowship with God is like that. Carving out time - just to be together. Just because He loves us, and we love Him back. Time spent exclusively with Him - no agendas, no demands, no posturing. Just Him. Just enjoying His presence, listening to His heart, learning to recognize His voice, appreciating all He is, all He does. And making plans to do it again.

Metamorphosis

"If anyone be in Christ, he is a new creature. The old has gone; the new has come!"

I just spent the last 15 minutes watching a series of photos that picture the life cycle of the monarch butterfly. It's fantastic!

Did you know:

- Even though nobody sees the egg, it is a thing of beauty in itself, looking like tatted lace?
- The monarch caterpillar's first meal is its own eggshell?
- A monarch caterpillar sheds its skin four times before it turns into a pupa?
- The caterpillar hooks itself into an anchor and turns itself upside down to be changed?
- The old skin, the markings and all that identified it as a monarch caterpillar disappear as it sheds its final trappings of the earth-bound life left behind?
- The pupa is NOT a coating the monarch caterpillar puts on itself, but the revelation of the grown larva's insides?- The skin of the pupa becomes more and more transparent as the transformation takes place on the inside, allowing us to see the colors of the wings before it ever emerges?
- The emerging butterfly grasps the pupa's transparent skin on the way out, so that it turns right side up when the rest of the body comes out?
- There is an excess of fluid in the body of the new monarch and this fluid is pumped out into the veins in its wings, making them stiff enough to fly?

The changes all take such a long time - weeks - if we were to do nothing but watch them in real life. Fortunately we have the benefit of time-lapse and of sequential photographs. Even with that, sometimes it seems as though nothing were happening. But it does. And it's miraculous.

The butterfly's process mirrors the fundamental shift in our spiritual beings, a shift that takes place on a spiritual level when we are honest, open, and willing to embrace the changes that God has planned for us when we turn our will and our lives over to His care. The changes are invisible at first, but no less miraculous. Most happen in obscurity, unseen by anyone, and (if you hadn't noticed) they happen from the inside out: ALL of them. That's a lesson in itself. External stuff brings about no lasting change and may even hinder (or kill) the life that Christ died to give us. But the inner work He does is worth the time it takes to let happen naturally. It can't be forced; it happens when it happens. It's not human effort; it's a divine and sovereign work.

That way, only God gets the applause.
If you have about 15 minutes, check out this link to watch the butterfly's process for yourself:
http://vimeo.com/7203408

I am the words; You are the music

I can't imagine my life without music. I grew up in a musical family; there was music all around me from before I was born. My nicest memories growing up all revolved around singing together, harmonizing, playing instruments.

Beside "First Words" in my baby book, my mother wrote, "Tried to sing."

I love the music of Ferrante and Teicher, a piano duo that has never been equaled. André Gagnon, Canadian composer and pianist, comes a close second in the piano world. My heart has thrilled to the classical guitar styles of José Feliciano and of Leona Boyd. I've sung in choirs, played in bands, done solos with both live backup and "canned". Music is in my blood, it's interwoven into my spirit - inextricable from it. It's so much a part of me that it's only natural that this would be the most powerful way for me to express my feelings - to my family, to God, to the world around me, and to myself.

I cannot "not sing." There's always a song in my head - I wake up with one every morning - and it could be a gospel tune or just as easily one from a popular artist from the 70's or 80's. Usually the tune contains a message I need to hear that day; this message I view as from God, another way He tells me that He loves me. It's uncanny!! Like this one morning when I was particularly rushed and feeling a little lost in the shuffle, the song I heard was something from the 70's hit parade, "Darlin' if you want me to be closer to you, get closer to me..." and when I realized what the song was, I knew God was telling me to take some time to spend with Him. When I did, the day didn't seem quite so rushed and I knew peace.

Yesterday, when I was practicing worship songs for church with the team, I remember how I "fluttered" inside when I heard the three-part harmony blend together ... it sounded so good and just touched a spot in me that nothing else can touch. I can't explain it; it just makes me bubble up inside.

I thank God for the fabric of music He has woven into my soul.

Nature's Thanks ... Giving

Two seas. Both in Israel. One - the Galilee - is teeming with life, surrounded by fishing villages and farms.

The other - the Dead Sea - lives up to its name. There is salt residue on the shore, stuck to the rocks. Salt from which the seawater has evaporated. Nothing can live in that concentration of salt. A tourist trade is all that can be produced in its jagged coastline and briny waters.

Both seas get the same amount of rain in that Mediterranean climate.

The reason why the Galilee lives and the Dead Sea doesn't ... is because the Galilee has an outflow (the Jordan River) and the Dead Sea doesn't. In other words, the Galilee gives and the Dead Sea takes.

Giving, generosity, graciousness, thankfulness, abundance, joy - or taking, complaining, reducing, stinginess, misery.
You see - God doesn't need words to get His message across.If we listen.

When God Says NO

A guy I know is currently going through what I'd call a "crisis of faith."

He prayed earnestly and with all the belief in him for a certain thing to happen. He honestly believed that not only COULD God do this thing, but that He WOULD do it because - well, because he believed.

It didn't happen.

Now he is far less assured when he prays. I am not sure exactly what his thought process is, but it might be something like this:

God said no. God is all-powerful and He is also good. He can't be at fault for this. So the problem must be me. I must not have enough faith to please Him. I thought I did, but I guess my faith needs work. I can't imagine how this could not have been His will. He always wants to heal, to work miracles... so the problem must be me. What did I do wrong? How can I make it right? Is God dissatisfied with me?

I've been there. I've had those questions. Everyone does at one time or another. And while I don't have all the answers - nobody does except God - there are some things I've learned and I'd like to share them.

1. God always does what's right. Even if we don't understand. Even if it doesn't make sense.
2. It isn't necessarily that we don't have enough faith. He simply chooses to say no. He has that right; He is God.
3. We don't have the right to order God around. He is God. We aren't. We ask; we don't demand. He is the One who has the power and the will to answer.
4. When we read Romans 8:28, ("And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, who are the called according to His purpose,") we need to read it in context along with verse 29 because that verse defines the word "good" in verse 28. The ultimate good that God is seeking to work all things together for, is that we are "conformed to the image of His Son." He knows best what will do that. Sometimes that will mean an answer we don't expect, or the opposite of the one we were hoping for.
5. God always answers prayer. "No" is just as much an answer as "Yes."

I believe that we in the Western church have a spirit of entitlement - the idea that God is obliged to do what we want just because we're His kids. If my kids treated me that way (and sometimes they do) I would not be a very happy camper and I might say no just because they were so presumptuous to take my "Yes" for granted.

I'm not saying that God is like that. I'm just saying that God is a Person, not a vending machine. He doesn't operate according to a prescribed formula, and one thing I've learned in my relationship with Him is this: He absolutely hates "being pegged." He will do something differently the next time just so I don't try to reproduce the same conditions that got me a "Yes" the last time. His ultimate goal is conforming me to Jesus' image. That might mean I am in an uncomfortable position for a while, or that someone I love might have to suffer for a while - maybe even a long while. Or worse. And since He knows the end from the beginning, maybe He knows that if I got what I wanted, I might become arrogant - or the person I'm praying for might be worse off spiritually after being healed than before. Maybe they need the affliction to keep them close to Jesus and transform them into His image.

It's His call.

A poem I read once - by L. B Cowman, author of Streams in the Desert, comes to me as I write, and I think that today I will share that poem here as well. It talks about the trials we face every day - the testings, one of which is (of course) the question of "unanswered" prayer. It doesn't mention this specifically but I think the concept Cowman speaks of, is broad enough to encompass this topic as well.

Here is the poem:

He sat by a fire of seven-fold heat
As He watched by the precious ore,
And closer He bent with a searching gaze
As He heated it more and more.
He knew He had ore that could stand the test,
And He wanted the finest gold
To mould as a crown for the King to wear
Set with gems with a price untold.
So He laid our gold in the burning fire
Tho' we fain would have said Him, "Nay,"
And He watched the dross that we had not seen
As it melted and passed away.
And the gold grew brighter and yet more bright,
But our eyes were so dim with tears,
We saw but the fire - not the Master's hand,
And we questioned with anxious fears.
Yet our gold shone out with a richer glow,
As it mirrored a Form above,
That bent o'er the fire, tho' unseen by us,
With a look of ineffable love.
Can we think that it pleases His loving heart
To cause us a moment's pain?
Ah no! but He saw through the present cross
The bliss of eternal gain.
So He waited there with a watchful eye,
With a love that is strong and sure,
And His gold did not suffer a bit more heat
Than was needed to make it pure.

The Galatian Desolation

Ever since the Fall of man, humans have wanted to feel as though they had some control over their own destinies. Perhaps it's an instinctive effort to try to recapture the glory that was ours before the Fall...I don't really know.

God's ultimate desire for mankind was to be in relationship with us. Not like automatons but by choice, on both sides. The Fall ruined that. So God looked for those whose hearts would be toward Him, and when the time was right He instituted the Law. The law was designed to show people that there was no way they could be perfect enough to earn God's love, God's attention. It drove those who sought Him (like King David, for example) to look to Him as the source of power for their lives. The Law's rituals were foreshadowings of the greater plan that He had for us: a way for us to enter into intimate relationship with Him. That Way was Jesus. All the sacrifices at the Temple, all the religious feasts, all the fasts, the offerings, the cleansing rituals, all of these spoke in some way of the coming of Messiah, through which all men would have the opportunity to enter into relationship with God.

When Jesus finally came and walked the roads of Galilee, the disciples of John the Baptist asked Jesus why His disciples didn't fast or observe any of the religious disciplines they did. Jesus asked them why the bride would fast and be sad when the bridegroom was with her. Rather, she would celebrate because he had arrived. At another time, He said that He came to fulfill the Law. He was the answer that people were looking forward to, the solution to their problem of not being able to keep the whole Law. He Himself was the completion of the Law. The need for that system of dos and don'ts had been done away with. Jesus' kingdom was of the heart. When He said, "It is finished!" He meant "It is accomplished!" It was a business term. It was a "done deal."

But people still didn't get it. In the early church, Paul had to confront Peter because he was telling the Jewish Christians that they still had to obey Moses' law, that they had to be circumcised, that they had to observe the new moons and the feasts. Paul withstood him, and in no uncertain terms told him that he was wrong to ask them to continue to be in bondage to a religious system. Peter repented.

And then there were the Galatians. Oh, the foolish Galatians. These were Gentiles who were saved under Paul's ministry. Their error was that they subscribed to the theology of the Nicolaitans (which Jesus said He hated - see the letters to the churches in Revelation). This theology says that one must be saved, yes, and then one must observe the Jewish religious rituals God set out in the Law: circumcision, tithing, sacrifices, offerings, and feasts. Paul argued that the need for those things had passed and that in Christ, there is neither Jew nor Gentile, slave nor free, male nor female. He said that these were fleshly efforts to earn God's favor when He already favored us to the ultimate degree in Jesus Christ. He even went so far as to call this "Jesus plus" doctrine "Falling from Grace."

OUCH.

I remember seeing a drawing one time of a bride hugging and kissing a portrait of her beloved - quite touching, actually! However, it also symbolized for me what the Galatians were doing. They already had Jesus as their bridegroom, He loved them and gave Himself as their dowry; they didn't need to do anything to merit it, He had done it all. He'd already come into their hearts and they were in a relationship with Him. What they were doing was like a bride taking her new husband's picture, the one she used to remind herself of him before he was with her, along with her on her honeymoon and spending time only with the picture, kissing it, stroking it as though it were him. Kind of pathetic, isn't it. So here they were observing the new moons, the rituals, the feasts, the dietary laws, the over six hundred laws that were written down - when all they needed was Jesus.

We're not all that different from them. Jesus can't possibly love us more or bless us more than He already has in HIM. It's HIS presence (His face) He wants us to crave. Not His blessings (His hands). They only come as an accompaniment to spending time with Him, focusing on Him. Not what everyone else is doing, not how they do things in mega-churches, not how successful this program or that methodology is, not even "trying" to be good and to live a righteous life (this automatically comes the more time we spend with Him!!) We are so incredibly bound up in the lie that satan has fed us for so long - that what God has provided for us isn't enough. That we have to add to it. That we can make our lives better, make God listen to us more, or get more blessing just by doing this thing or that thing. It's all a bunch of crock - straight from the pit of hell. Christianity isn't about us or our blessing. It's about Him, relationship and intimacy with Him, His power to transform, His sufficiency when we're weak.

His grace.

The poor Galatians were selling themselves - and God - short. They were robbing themselves of the super-abounding joy of knowing Him...which, when Paul talked about it, was worth more than all the credentials he held as a Pharisee - someone who had observed all the laws, feasts, moons, and offerings - religiously. He knew better than anyone the emptiness of that kind of life, the bondage it entailed. He didn't want that for them; he wanted them to know the joy of growing deeper and deeper in their intimacy with God through the only Way possible: Jesus.

Anything added to that perfection only ruins it.

Keep the door open

I heard a sermon once by a dynamic speaker - who liked to use props whenever he spoke; he found it helped his audience remember what he had said. This particular day, he walked onto the platform with a bright blue mop handle, unscrewed from one of those wonder-mop varieties of mops they sold in the stores about 15 years ago or so.

He hadn't been speaking very long before the color of the mop handle, or even that it was a mop handle at all, didn't matter any more to me. I was transfixed.

He spoke of the life and ministry of Moses. In particular, he spoke about the experience at the burning bush. And then he started talking about the miracle of the rod - how God told him to throw the rod on the ground; when he did, it became a serpent. (I can still see him throwing the mop handle on the floor and jumping away from it as if it had started to move and he might get bitten. Then gingerly, carefully reaching for the end of it - and raising it up for all to see it was a mop handle - er - shepherd's rod again.)

Then this pastor held the rod up in his hand and said something like this: "I want you to understand something. In Egypt, Moses was the next thing to being a god. He had it all: money, power, anything he wanted. But when he identified with his own people and tried to help them on his own, he was so disgraced by his failure to help them that he left all that behind and lived in self-imposed exile. He took on the life of a simple shepherd. And a shepherd's rod is his most important tool for doing his work; it protects the sheep from predators, keeps them in line when they stray, and helps the shepherd reach craggy places and tight spots into which sheep have gotten themselves. But over the course of 40 years, this rod came to symbolize for Moses ... everything he lost, all the failure, all the guilt and shame, all the things he could never be, and all the things he believed he always would be. Nothing but a shepherd.

"That rod was a metaphor for everything he had lost in his life. Lost dreams, lost reputation, lost future. Then God came into the picture and told him to throw it down. The Almighty told him to throw down the symbol of the life that he'd been living the last 40 years - a life of disgrace, of shame, of lost opportunities. Deep in his heart he wanted so desperately to be rid of all of that. So yes, he threw it down. Then it transformed into the very personification of those feelings : a venomous snake!! Moses ran from it. Who wouldn't!! But God told him to do something that scared him even more. 'Pick it up.' Not only was this a venomous snake, which would bear watching, it was also the symbol of all of his failures. Why? why would God say to pick up the very thing he loathed? the very thing that caused him so much pain?

"But Moses DID pick up that serpent - and it transformed back into a rod again. And here's what I want you to get. Ever afterward, when Moses talked about that rod, he didn't call it 'the rod of Moses' when he wrote about it. God called it 'your rod' but Moses never did. He called it 'the rod of God.' "

Then he said something else I will never forget. "God can take the very thing that is causing you the most pain, the thing in your life that you feel you can never be free of - and transform it eventually into an instrument that He can use to help others. All you need to do is throw it down at His feet, see it for what it really is, and then allow God to transmute that into what will eventually become your own unique ministry - whether you are a pastor or a lay person who rubs shoulders with hurting people every day. God can use the very thing you think is so ugly and turn it into a beautiful thing for Him. When He tells you to throw it down...throw it down.

"And when and ONLY when He says it's time to pick it back up, do it, for only then will you be ready to enter into the realm of using that very thing to help others who are suffering with the exact same issues you once had. And you will be the only one who can reach them because quite frankly, they won't listen to anyone else who's never been through what they have. That will be your unwitting gift to them, just as it was Moses' gift to his people, given totally unawares. And God will be glorified in and through it. You will be amazed."

How could I improve on that kind of message!? All I can say is that in my own experience, this has proven to be true. No matter how far down the scale I have gone, I have eventually been able to see how my experience not only of recovery and healing but of what I have been healed FROM, can benefit others, and God gets all of my gratitude for it, for without Him (and I tried for years to do it on my own and failed miserably every time) I can do absolutely nothing.

Remember Me

Someone recently commented that it was patently unsatisfying to reduce the Lord's supper to a little wafer and a half-swallow of juice - that we were meant to celebrate Him and that it should be so much more than that. It should be a feast.

I must admit that I never saw it along those lines before, because it was the symbolism that always got me, not the amount or tastelessness of the bread. (Okay, those wafers really taste awful.)

But my friend had a point. Sometimes we do things a certain way just because it's always been done that way. There isn't any good reason for it. When Jesus first instituted the Lord's supper, as we call it, He didn't give them a little bite. He told twelve men to share the "loaf" among themselves - yes, Judas hadn't left yet. I put "loaf" in quotation marks because of course this was the Passover and all that was available was unleavened bread...matzoh.

I personally believe the "loaf" He used was the middle one - the one the Jewish people saved aside during the Passover meal and put between two layers of cloth (unknowingly symbolizing the second person of the Trinity going into the ground). It was kept sacrosanct, uneaten - nobody knew its purpose. And He married another Jewish ceremony into the mix to highlight the reason why He would soon die for them : a betrothal ceremony - see my post "It's Just like Jesus" (click here for the link).

What He wanted when He instituted communion was one thing only: "Remember Me." In other words, always be grateful: never forget what I'm about to do for each of you, the price I'm going to pay for you, the lengths to which I will go in order to have an intimate, personal relationship with you. Remember that - often. Remember Me - together. Don't let your remembering turn into a dead ritual. Keep it alive. Don't "observe communion." Behold the Lamb of God.

Like a Little Child

"Grown-ups never understand anything for themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them." 
     - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

A few weeks ago I accompanied my hubby to a music practice. Someone was late and the person in charge asked a friend of mine, who had her first baby this year, to fill in for her. So she brought her baby to me to hold it while she went up on stage.

It had been a very long time since I'd held a baby that age - around 6 or 7 months old - it had been many years. I sat her straddling one of my legs, facing away from me so she could see her mom, and leaning her back against me. The little girl and I just enjoyed the music together. She could not speak and I chose not to as well. Yet we communicated. Every once in a while she would look up at me and then back up to the stage. It's like she was saying, "This is fun. I like this. Thank you for letting me watch everything." She demanded nothing. All I provided was a safe place for her to be while she enjoyed that moment. Lived in the present. No regrets, no worries.

I've thought about it since. I believe that babies are much more intelligent than we give them credit for being. They have a way of cutting through all the façades we adults put up; it is one reason why they are able to turn most adults into blithering idiots in the space of two minutes. They have, I believe, a vital connection with the Almighty, but since they don't have the power of speech yet, they can't communicate that to the grown-ups. Jesus knew that little children had life nailed and He said that unless we became like them, we couldn't enter into His kingship over us - His kingdom.

There is a sense of wonder, a newness, a thirst to learn, an inherent trust in the present moment, that characterizes a young baby. I think that this is what Jesus was talking about. We tend to complicate things so much. We get concerned, fret about the most unimportant things. We beat ourselves up over the mistakes of the past. We wonder about the future, about whether people like us or not, about whether we're playing by the rules and doing what's expected of us. Babies don't do that. They just are. Period.

I've found myself wanting to soak in those unspoken lessons from them, to sit at their feet if you prefer that analogy, and open my heart to the voice of the Spirit, draining away all the extraneous, and focusing on the most important thing: relationship with Him. (I saw a video clip earlier today and the person who was talking, was wearing a T-shirt that said, "It's against my relationship to have a religion." I like that.)

I wonder what life could be like if we lived in the moment, in relationship with Him, not trying to impress anyone or influence anyone. If we truly opened our innermost selves to Him with no masks, no façades, no games.

I just wonder.