Spirit-Walk (With a Limp)

Some Snow . . . You Heart Gets a Little Colder When Its Gone

2008-07-12T11:25:00.000-07:00

Tony Snow has died today. I am so sad. He was a really great man, and I truly missed his work.

It's weird to grieve for the death of a person I didn't really know, but I am truly sad about this. When Rush would have to be on vacation, Tony would stand in for him, and he was the one guest host that I never shut off. Most of the folks who fill in for Rush aren't even really close, but Tony was such an enjoyable conservative voice. It's really awful that he is gone.

Time to Resume

2008-04-02T21:49:00.000-07:00

So I need to start this blog again.This kind of thinking is something I need to be doing constantly.

Luke 9:18 Now it happened that as he was praying alone, the disciples were with him.

As I look at this, I think of why I need to do this. I need to keep my spiritual walk going, so that I don't end up in the place where the disciples are here in this verse. Jesus is praying alone, and the disciples are with him? What's that about? Why does that verse not read "Now it happened that Jesus and his disciples were in prayer"?

But I cannot be too critical of them, because how often do I feel Christ draw me into prayer, but I will not go. I know He wants me to spend time with His Dad, but I've got other stuff going. I feel the nudge, but on I go, and I listen to the radio or I watch TV or I wash dishes or do laundry or call somebody, but not prayer.

I leave Jesus praying alone. I may be with Him, but I haven't learned to be drawn by Him into prayer yet.

I don't want to be in this state of heart. I want to be responsive to His calls to prayer.

Oh, God, deepen my limp. Wrestle with me more. I want to be overcome by you. I want to fall into prayer with you and be beside you. I do not want to sit in your presence, to cool or clueless to fall with you into prayer.

Deepen my heart God. Deepen my limp.

God Rends His Clothes

2007-03-03T14:34:00.000-08:00

And Jesus uttered a loud cry and breathed his last. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom.
- Mark 15:37-38

In the ancient Hebrew world, the way to express the horror of grief, to reject blasphemy or treason, or to express repentance was for a person to tear his or her clothes. This wasn’t like Bruce Banner becoming the Incredible Hulk – the torn clothes would still be wearable. One would make a small rip in the cloth next to the throat. This would be a physical sign of what was in the person’s heart.

For instance, when Jesus was on trial, the high priest Caiaphas tore his robes in response to one of Jesus’ few answers to that kangaroo court:

Then the high priest tore his robes and said, “He has uttered blasphemy. What further witnesses do we need? You have now heard his blasphemy.

- Matthew 26:65

Of course, Caiaphas was the one committing blasphemy – if only he’d known. Had he known what he was about to do, if he’d believed and known what he was involved in, he surely would have torn his robes, but for very different reasons. He would have cried out for compassion and mercy from Jesus, and torn his robes in repentance.

But recently, I’ve been reading about the tabernacle and the temple, and we just looked at the curtain that separated the Holy Place from the Most Holy Place. According to Josephus, this thing was so thick and strong that teams of horses pulling in opposite directions could not tear it.

This is what tore when Jesus died. The curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom.

Theologically, what I’ve always thought about that was that it was God’s way of saying – “The way to me is open now.” With Jesus death accomplished, the separation of sinners from holiness is no longer a necessity. Forgiven sinners, purified radically of their sins, can enter directly into the presence of God.

But is that what it means?

Perhaps, but might it also be something more.

I cannot help but wonder if this is God expressing his grief about what has just happened. His boy is dead! If ever anyone needed to express grief, it’s the Father at that moment. If ever there were a blasphemy, it has just happened in the murder of the Son of God. If ever there were sorrow that needed expression in the heavenly courts, it was at the moment that the sun refused to give its light, when the angels wept and went about in sack cloth and ashes, when the stars shook with the stones of the earth. The Prince of Glory, the precious beloved Son, died.

So God tore his clothes.

The curtain of the temple stood as God's robes, and in His terrible sorrow and pain, He tore them to pieces.

When this occurred to me, I wished that I could hold Him and weep with that horrified, grieving Father.

Never before in my life have I wanted to comfort God – the idea is preposterous. He doesn’t need my comfort – I need His. Furthermore, I’m unworthy to even think of this, since by my sins, I have participated in His Son’s murder.

But thinking of His sorrow, I was moved. Maybe it’s because I have a son, and cannot imagine what He must have felt at that moment. I cannot imagine what it must be like to look upon the dead body of my boy. What must You have felt, oh my God?

Thinking of His grief and sorrow, the cross and the death of Jesus became more real to me. To think of Him mourned in heaven, the grief of heaven, the sorrow of the bereaved Father – it makes it all more terrible. It makes it all more profound and wonderful too.

For me, He did what made Him tear His clothes.

Oh, my God, I am so sorry. I am so grateful. I love you so much.

Dangerous Holiness

2007-01-31T20:29:00.000-08:00

And the Lord said to Moses, “Go down and warn the people, lest they break through to the Lord to look and many of them perish. Also let the priests who come near to the Lord consecrate themselves, lest the Lord break out against them.” And Moses said to the Lord, “The people cannot come up to Mount Sinai, for you yourself warned us, saying, ‘Set limits around the mountain and consecrate it.’” And the Lord said to him, “Go down, and come up bringing Aaron with you. But do not let the priests and the people break through to come up to the Lord, lest he break out against them.” So Moses went down to the people and told them. Exodus 19:21-25 ESV

God is dangerous.

God is dangerous because God is holy, and to we polluted, weakened sinners, holiness is deadly.

God wants to be close to us, but we cannot bear Him. We are sinners, and He is not. His holiness is too much for us. His glory, the glorious weight of His holiness, is too much. Should we come into contact with Him with our sin still within us, we are too brittle. God's presence in us will crush us, kill us, obliterate us.

So He warns His people - don't get too close to me, lest I break out against you. He does not want to kill them. He does not want to see them die.

This little exchange between Moses and God is an interesting one. God gives Moses this warning for the people. When Moses hears the redundant warning, he responds as if saying, "Umm . . . yeah, you told us that." God reinforces the warning yet again, a warning that was already repetitive when he said it. Why go into this?

Of course, God doesn't tell us why he said this stuff, but I think it's because God knew that we want to see Him. We may not want to be holy ourselves, or willing to pay the price it would cost us to be holy, but we want to see. Holiness is attractive, because holiness is good. And God is fascinating – we are drawn to him.

But unless our sins and corruptions are dealt with, He is dangerous to us. Not so much because He cannot stand to be near our sin (although, no doubt, it is unpleasant for Him), but because we cannot bear his holiness.

I think this is why I so often meet God at my points of weakness. God wants to reinforce these broken parts so that I can become a person who is able to bear the weight of His glorious holiness. So as I come to Him, He comes to me at the very point at wish He would leave me alone, or at least ignore me. But He will not ignore my sins, and I think it’s because He does not want to break out against me. He wants to repair me so that He might not kill me.

So I will come to Him on His terms, though it means that He will come to confront my sins. I will let Him work His painful fixing on me. He wants to be near to me, and I want to be near to Him, so I will be open to His sanctifying work in me.

Because to do less is dangerous.

Holy Interruptions

2007-01-24T18:26:00.001-08:00

. . . the house of the Lord, was filled with a cloud, so that the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord filled the house of God. - 2 Chron. 5:13b-14, ESV

This little snippet from the Scriptures hit me today. I'm sure that Solomon and his folks had things all planned out, to make it the most impressive event they could make it. This is, after all, the dedication of the Temple of God - it doesn't happen every day. Everybody has stuff to do, and they are trying to do their best.

And in the middle of the music and the festivities, God comes wandering in to interrupt things. This cloud, so like the could that filled the tabernacle once to keep Moses out, comes drifting in to fill the place up, and now no one can get anything done. These poor guys have priestly duties that no doubt they are supposed to be doing, but not now. Now is God's time. He has interrupted things.

Sure, Solomon will move things forward - he has a long prayer, something like a State of the Union address delivered to both God and His people - but not now. In this moment, everything has to stop, because God has taken over the NOW. It is His, and He has shown up on the scene. There was no doing anything except be still in the presence of the glory of God.

And I find myself thinking - how often do I let God do that to me?

I've got stuff to get done every day, appointments to keep, classes to prepare, sermons to write, phone calls to make, yada yada yada - and sometimes I'll feel this pressure on me, like a whisper in my brain, ". . . pray . . ." And too often, I blow it off, and keep being busy.

. . . pray . . . I'm here . . . talk to me . . .

As I read this passage, I think about the holy cloud of his glory settling upon them. If my body is the temple of God, could these gentle prodding’s be something the same? Could he be trying to interrupt me with the wonder and glory of his presence? If so, how crazy am I to miss that? How insane must I be to keep the motion going when the cloud has come to stop everything? Why am I busy with the Christ is calling me to peace?

Oh, God, please interrupt me again. Help me to be still.

Jesus a Masochist?

2007-01-09T11:41:00.000-08:00

I recently heard Jesus called a sick masochist. The person who said it hated Him, and said quote, "I wouldn't want to spend eternity with this sick masochist anyway." My though was, well I wouldn't worry about it, because unless He saves you from that brokenness, you wont. Though you probably won't like what you do get.

But I wondered about her words. Why would anyone think of Jesus that way?

And of course, she was talking about the cross. As if Jesus wanted the cross - as if he persued the cross. Which I suppose he did. As if the cross were some kind of expression of erotic love. Which obviously it is not.

An atheist can never understand the cross. How can they hope to understand that someone would love them enough to die this terrible death. How could they ever hope to understand it when I can't get my head around it and I love Him?

But the thing is, the charge won't stick if you know anything about Jesus at all. Certainly not if you know about the garden where he prayed before he died. Jesus wanted what the cross would accomplish, but he did not want the cross at all.

• • • •

Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here, while I go over there and pray.” And taking with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch with me.” And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” And he came to the disciples and found them sleeping. And he said to Peter, “So, could you not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Again, for the second time, he went away and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” And again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. So, leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time, saying the same words again. Then he came to the disciples and said to them, “Sleep and take your rest later on. See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going; see, my betrayer is at hand.”
--Mathew 26:37-46 ESV

• • • •
That's not a man running toward suffering because he will enjoy it. That's a man willing to suffer what must be suffered. Suffering and love are connected on the cross, but not in a sick way. There is love there beyond understanding. There is suffering there because we cause it.

It's amazing that someone would hate Jesus and mock him right at the point where his love is most profoundly expressed. But then there were unbelievers making fun of him at the foot of the cross as well.

I Want to Know Christ

2006-10-25T20:24:00.000-07:00

. . . that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. - Philippians 3:10-11 [ESV]

That I may know him, Paul says.

That is hard to hear. Especially the way that the NIV says it "I want to know Christ . . ." If Paul is going to say that, what hope have I got? I was not converted by a blazing white hot presence of God. I have never been caught up to the third heaven so that I could learn dirrectly from Christ. He's not talked to me and told me that there are people he owns in any given city. These are things that have not happened to me, but they are things that did happen to Paul, so if he feels like he needs to get to know him, what hope have I got?

But of course, what Paul means is not that he wants to know about Christ, but that he wants to know him through the experience of a growing spirituality. He wants to join Christ in a life of willingness to suffer and expectation that God will let him experience that. He wants to become like Jesus, not in his life or in his glory, but to have the kind of character about him that Jesus had while dying. In this is his hope for new life.

I can have that. I want to have that. I can have a spiritual life that is always growing, ever closer to Christ, daily more open to Him. By his power and help I can adopt a posture that cares less about what I want, less about my comfort and more about a willingness to give my life up - even to suffer pain and sorrow. I can grow to love as Jesus loved while dying - to pray for those who hurt me.

I want to know Christ.

Sorrow

2006-10-24T21:08:00.000-07:00

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints. - Psalm 116:15 [English Standard Version]

My sister told me about a little boy named Canon. I never met this boy or his mother, Carla. I don't know them. In this life, I'll never get a chance to know Canon - he died three days ago at the age of four from complications in his treatment for heart disease.

This terrible death is not the first time I've seen tragic death. Obviously, if you were alive on September 11th, you saw tragic death on live television. I had a professor who's child died when I was in grad school, and that was pretty terrible. When I was a kid, I met a boy named Chad who died of cancer. One of my few friends in high school was a kid named Mat Morel who also died of cancer. And then there is my Dad. I come up with that list without even really thinking about it.

But this death, this one has touched me very deeply, because I have a little boy and a little girl not much younger than this little Canon. His mother had hoped to see him healed. Now she must say goodbye. How can she be ready to do that? Could I do that? They are so precious - these little ones who share our lives, enrich our lives, make our lives more full. Wouldn't it empty our lives so to loose them? It seems strange that the darkness should be so close and terrifying.

I've cried a bit, thinking about this poor woman. How terrible.

It's enough to make you wonder where God is. Why would he let this go on? Why not heal little Canon? Is he not significant to you, oh God? Does he not matter? Does this woman not matter to you?

I read this Bible verse, and my questions are stilled.

The first thing I note is that little Canon did not die as an oversight. God paid attention to him. Canon was never out of Gods sight. He never took His eyes off of that little boy. Not one moment of his struggle was missed. Carla says that Canon wanted to live and he fought hard to survive. All that suffering was not alone - God was with him. God cares about Canon, and always has and always will. He knew Canon before he was born, and He knows Canon now. He never took his eyes off him.

But also, I see that death is a precious thing to God. Not that it's cute, like Precious Moments figurines, but that it is costly. God sees these deaths as significant. One that was bearing his image well is gone from the world, and will not be back until the resurrection. The pain of this loss is felt by more than Carla - her father in Heaven feels it too. My pain is nothing next to God's pain.

Why pay this cost if he does not have to pay it? If it's costly to him for Canon to die, then why not keep Canon alive? If God can do it, why not do it? Why not answer my prayer and the prayers of so many who asked Him for Canon's life?

Perhaps because God is going to let this world be broken until the time for ultimate fixing comes. It may be that God does not intend to fix things one piece at a time, but all at once, in one great, sweeping, cataclysmic moment when Jesus comes back. It may be that God chooses to leave this world in the mess it is so that people can continue to have the option NOT to believe in Him if that's what they choose. Maybe this sorrow is left in the world so that it can be obvious that things are not the way they are supposed to be, in the hopes that people will feel the discord in their hearts and search for what will resolve all the dissonance.

Who knows for sure? Only God I guess.

But I know this - the death of Canon was a thing that hurt God's heart as much as it hurt anyone's heart. Jesus shows us that people who mourn will encounter him with tears on His holy cheaks. He knows exactly how Carla feels, because He also has had to watch a son die.

Oh God, please, don't let this sad, broken world go on much longer. Please, send your Son to take us home.

Sunset Peace

2006-09-18T15:13:00.000-07:00

Ephesians 4:26: Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger . . . [ESV]

Anger is such a volatile thing, and so risky. Few things are more likely to draw us into untransformed living as anger.

Anger rises out of offense. When someone does something to us that humiliates us, or makes us feel hurt or offended, we become angry. Sometimes it's totally legitimate for us to feel that way - if someone steps on your heart or violates you, it makes sense to be angry. Who could criticize a rape victim for feeling anger? Sometimes it's less legit - when we think more highly of ourselves than we ought to, anger will be all around us because people will treat us as we deserve to be treated, rather than with the high level of respect we think we have coming.

But what's significant in this passage is not what makes us angry, but what we do with that anger once we are.

It's so easy to make bad decisions when we are fierce with rage. It's so easy to say things we can never take back, to do things that will later make us blush, to act without thought from the depth of our emotion.

The advice here is two fold - When we become angry, we have to keep an eye on how we behave. Don't let anger make you do everything that anger tries to get you to do.

Second, don't give anger free range in your heart. Give it the time it deserves, but never more than one day. By the time you lay down to sleep, be sure that you've given your rage to God, and entrusted him to make things right.

The Difficult Easy Life

2006-09-14T10:14:00.000-07:00

"Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” - Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew Chapter 11 verses 29-30

“Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few." - Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew Chapter 7 verses 13-14

Okay, so which is it? Is the Christian life hard or easy?

On the one hand, it is terrifically hard. Following Jesus means leaving behind so many forces that surround me. There are billboards and websites and movies and books and clubs and fashions and traditions and a million other things in the culture around me that would push me from God. And I must be wary of so many dangerous broken parts within me. My jealousy and pride and anger and lust and shame and selfishness and fear and a hundred other distortions make me less aware of God.

Add to this my spiritual sluggishness - my tendency to be lazy and foolish. My unwillingness to spend the time with God that I know I need. If I don't have time in my life with God, I know I will be less than what I could be. But it's so hard! A million tangible, touchable things crowd in on me, and God is not touchable. So my heart too often stays out of his hands, and I don't receive his transformative touch.

Finding time and desire for the whole thing - it's hard.

And yet, it is so much easier.

In my job, I often have to provide counsel to people who are making choices that are very far out of line with God's plans and desires. As a man trained in God's word, I can often see the pitfalls that are before them that they cannot see. I have told people, "Don't go that way! Don't do that! It's going to hurt" and been ignored, and I have seen the disasters come upon them.

In my own life, my own sins have been a disaster. Even ones that have not had painful consequences that have hurt others - even those sins have come with pain. Deep shame. Withering pain and humiliation - even when no one else thinks about them or remembers them any more, I do and it hurts.

Life lived without God hurts! When we do what ought not to be done, or we do not do what ought to be done, life hurts. God has made us to be good, beautiful creatures, but sin distorts us, bends us, breaks us, and the breaking is painful. A broken bone has nothing on a broken soul!

Jesus calls to us and tells us that his way is easy and his burden is light. His way of leading us to God reveals to us that God expects so very little from us - he just wants our love and trust, and a heart open and willing to be molded by him. He really does do the rest. It is God that empowers us to righteous living - not our choices or our will, but by his power. When we make our hearts rest with him - when we pray, when we fast or study, when we meditate, when we worship with upraised hearts - when we do these things, he pours his spirit into us and we become better people. It's easy because he is helping us do it.

But to believe this - that's hard. To find our way to Jesus' difficult path of trust is so challenging. It's so much "easier" to not try at all and presume upon God's love, or else try to prove ourselves to God and try to earn his love. But these ways lead to destruction.

Jesus way calls for work - the hard work of making God a priority and setting time to be with him, of opening my heart to him - even the parts I am ashamed off - and letting him work in me. It calls for the work of learning to love, being taught by him to care about other people and let other people care about me. It's hard to really do. Having fun with people is easy, but loving them - really loving them - that's hard. The work Jesus calls us to is hard, because it means overcoming all the forces of sin and death that are at work within us and around us, and putting our trust in God.

But the work he calls us to is easy once it is begun. When we begin spending time with God, he ignites our passion and brings us joy. We find the work that was once a duty becomes a pleasure.

Getting into it can be so hard. Finding the way is difficult, and staying on it can be difficult to. But walking with Jesus, really being with him and with his people - that's the best way of life that there is. That's easy!

Knowing God or Knowing About Him?

2006-07-06T05:48:00.000-07:00

So what's the difference between these two things? How do I know if I know God? How do I know if I love Him?

A short time ago, I spent an hour with my wife and children flying a kite. Why would I do that? Because it was terrific fun, and because I love them. I don't want to be a stranger to my kids or allow my relationship with my wife to drift, so I invest the time.

So is it any fun at all to spend time with God? When other things demand my time, do I greive because I can't be with Him? Does it ever worry me that I'm starting to feel like a stranger to Him or He seems strange to me? Do I enjoy wasting time with Him?

When I talk with my daughter, she says some of the funniest things. I love talking to her and holding her on my lap. She will lean over and say "I want to tell you a secret, Daddy." And then she will whisper in my ear, "I love you, Daddy."

Do I like to pray? Is it a sense of duty that sends me to my knees, or do I look forward to it? Do I feel like I am getting to spend time with a loved family member when I spend time in the quiet with God?

Sometimes I wonder if I know Him.

I know a lot about Him. I can explain His behavior and His character to people who have not heard and do not know. I can explain His great actions, and I can help people to look for Him in their lives. I can even see Him in mine.

But do I know Him? Do I love Him?

I want to. Sometimes, I think I am getting to know Him. But I do wonder sometimes if I will ever come to feel like I am any more than a nervous beginner in a relationship with Him.

I am glad to be known by Him. I want to come to know Him.

Miracles or Life with God

2006-06-12T20:51:00.000-07:00

Numbers 26:1-4 [English Standard Version]
[T]he Lord said to Moses and to Eleazar the son of Aaron, the priest, “Take a census of all the congregation of the people of Israel, from twenty years old and upward, by their fathers' houses, all in Israel who are able to go to war.” And Moses and Eleazar the priest spoke with them in the plains of Moab by the Jordan at Jericho, saying, “Take a census of the people, from twenty years old and upward,” as the Lord commanded Moses.

This is the second time in the book of Numbers that God says they should count the people. This generation of people has spent twenty years living as a huge group of nomads. They have basically been walking around waiting for their parents to die. The parents didn't believe that God could do what he'd promised to do for them, so they were not allowed to take the Promised Land.

What's interesting to me about all of that is this: the parents generation were thinking adults when they saw the miracles that God did to lead them out of Egypt, while the second generation were just small children. Both parents and children then walked through the wilderness for years. Which of these two things seems to be more significant in faith development? It seems like the daily walk with God is the more significant thing.

I have sometimes found myself jealous of those who saw Jesus perform miracles. It seemed to me that if I could see that, I'd have deeper faith. But I'm not sure that's true. I hope so, because those who had faith seemed to have their faith deepened and confirmed by the amazing things that Jesus did. John says the reason he writes about them is so that we can believe (although, I think it may be what we will come to believe - that Jesus is divine - as much as belief and trust in Jesus in general).

There were many who saw Jesus perform miracles and interpreted those signs as a reason to murder him! Yikes!

I think it is the daily walk with God that builds faith. The second generation that followed God with Moses in the wilderness, lived their lives in constant awareness of God. The tabernacle in the middle of the camp, the glory of God that filled it, the care and food and water He provided all made them aware of His presence.

Like those long ago men and women, I too live with God's constant presence around me. I can choose to see it or fail to be aware of it, but He is most certainly there - providing, keeping, leading.

I may not get to see God perform a natural order defying miracle in my life. But I can live with him, walk with him, and let him shape me throughout my life. I hope that my heart stays open to Him doing that. I'm pretty impressed with the faith that second generation had. I'd love to have it myself.

Kenny's Song and Mom's Prayer

2006-05-17T14:50:00.000-07:00

When I was nine years old, we made a trip to Tennessee. That really wasn't all that out of the ordinary - we did that a couple of times every year, because my whole extended family lives right around a little town called Paris, Tennessee.

But the trip I’m thinking of was unusual, because my father’s body had been sent down before us. We were following him there to say good-bye.

That trip was the saddest I ever remember being in a childhood that had plenty of sad moments. The ride was always long, but that trip seemed longer. The car seemed smaller and more cramped.

One of my father’s favorite albums was Kenny Roger’s The Gambler. I can hear his rough, baritone voice singing – “You godda know when ta hold’em!”

One of the songs on that album is called The Coward of the County. I’ll never be able to hear that song – or even think about it - without tears. Heck, I’m teary now.

In that song, a young boy named Tommy is told by his convict father to live a better life than he had lived – “Promise me, Son, not to do the things I done.” He keeps his promise, though they brand him the coward of the county because he will never fight. When he’s pushed too far, though (his girlfriend or maybe wife gets attacked or maybe raped by three wicked guys), he lashes out with righteous violence.

My dad loved that song. I think it talked to something in him – something primal and powerful, wanting to be in control and wanting to lash out. I think that really spoke to him.

It talks to me, too, but for different reasons. Among the opening lines of the song are these:

He was only ten years old
When his daddy died in prison.
I looked after Tommy,
Because he was my brother’s son.
I still recall the final words
My brother said to Tommy:
Son, my life is over,
But yours is just begun.”

Ach! That hurts. Even now, decades later, it hurts.

Because I know how little Tommy felt. You see, I was only nine years old when my daddy died in a prison. It wasn’t one built by people or out of bricks, but one built by a mood disorder and out of alcohol. But it was a dreadful place and it killed him.

Who knows why we would have been listening to that song on the way to burry him. I have no idea. Perhaps it made us feel like he was still with us. But what I know is that when Coward began to play, I couldn’t fight the tears. I began to cry.

I sat in the backseat of the car and cried. I was in the middle between two sisters – one leaning on each shoulder as they slept (I think I was serving as Switzerland between to warring countries at that point). I was quiet (I didn’t want anyone to know that I was being a baby and crying – it was just the death of my father, after all), but Mom saw me. She called me up to the front seat, and I sat on her lap.

While I sat there on Mom’s lap for the next fifty miles or so (this was before the seatbelt law, by the way) two things happened: one was that my father’s death became truly real to me. The other was that God became truly real to me.

I remember my brother, Richard, driving with tears running down his cheeks. I think that made me realize more than anything had before that my dad was really gone – that he was truly dead. When my dad started to fall apart, Rich became a kind of stand-in father for me. Richard was a rock in my life – he was never weak or small. He was solid, and his love was unquestioned. He was strong and masculine without some of the more problematic issues I saw in my father’s version of masculinity (and that’s pretty much the way I still see him).

At that point in my life, I could count on one hand the number of times that I’ve seen him in tears and have fingers left over. If it was bad enough that he was crying, then it was all real and true.

As I sat there in horrified wonder at the sight of Richard’s tears, Mom began to speak:

“Ethan,” she said, “we’ve hit rock bottom. We really have. And when you hit bottom and your flat on your back, the only direction you can look is up.”

I remember the sound of the wheels on the pavement humming for a few seconds, and she whispered, “We have to look up.”

She whipped her eyes, and then she went on, “We have to believe that God is real now. That he’s up there and he’s taking care of us. That he’s going to take care of us. We’ve hit bottom, but he’s going to take care of us.”

She was quiet for a few moments, and the car rolled closer to where we would burry my father’s body. The she prayed while I sat in her lap. I don’t remember what she said to God, but I know that her prayer made God real to me. That prayer made a difference in my life – it showed me that my Mom trusted God, even though we were in such a terrible place in our lives. She was telling me that I could trust Him, too.

I trusted my Mother, and so I chose to believe her. If she said that God would take care of us and get us through it, then He would. He had to, because I was pretty sure no one else could.

I think that Mom’s few wise words and her prayer have shaped me more than I can describe.

Decieved by God

2006-05-03T14:58:00.000-07:00

Jeremiah 20:7

O Lord, you have deceived me,
and I was deceived;
you are stronger than I,
and you have prevailed.

I love these words of Jeremiah's, because I can relate. I'm not sure I'd have signed on for this job if I knew how frustrated and sad it would so often make me. I hear about the bad stuff going on in people's lives, and I hear about people making choices to do bad things even though they would be so much happier if they did good stuff. I look at that and I think, "It would be better if you would just . . ." and they nod and smile and then they just go ahead with whatever. If I didn't care, it wouldn't hurt so badly.

I think of myself when I was new at this job. I came into it thinking I could save the world (I never would have worked for Bethel Grove if I hadn’t believed that). I think God even encouraged my idealism to help me head this direction - he wanted me in this job, and he let me fool myself some.

I also think, "okay, we can get this church on mission. We can focus it. I can do it. I can help us discover a sense of purpose and drive. My work will make a difference." and then I wonder if I am getting anything done or getting anywhere besides frustrated. Sometimes, it seemed I worked so hard to accomplish so little.

I've learned now - I can't save the world. I can't save anyone. I can't fix anyone. I can't save or fix a church. I can't even help anyone. Not even myself. No, I can't even fix myself.

I cannot do God's job.

I can do what He expects me to do - point people to Him. I cannot do more than that really.

I think he let me fool myself so that He could work through my feble efforts. He is stronger than I am, and he can do what I cannot.

Thank God, He prevails over me. I stay in this job because of Him. Even when I’d rather not. Especially when I’d rather not. Of course, there are people and things that I love, but I think if I were to stay in it for them and those things, I wouldn’t stay long. Nor would they stick with me long. It is God who draws us into this thing. He draws me. He prevails over me.

Perhaps He even prevails through me? Could it be that He directs some of my steps and causes me to actually accomplish something sometimes? I hope so. I so want my life to be a significant one.

When ministry frustrates me, I think of Jeremiah shaking his fist at heaven and shouting - "You never told me it would be like this! I thought it would be different from this. You fooled me. You deceived me. You made a fool of me!"

I can hear him laugh when he says that this is the only life he can live - that if he tries to do something else, the fire inside him takes over and he cannot get away.

And I hear him sigh a little after his rant is over. No matter that God does sometimes use us and work through us against our will and no matter that He fools us into this life of ministry – even though he does all that, you can’t hate God. Not and be sane. God is just so good, being his fool is better than being my own wise man. You cannot hate someone who loves you so much, and is so very good. Frustrated you can get, but He overcomes even that.

Praise God that he overcomes us. He fools us. And in making us fools, makes us alive.

And in fooling us, he gives us a life worth living.

Even if it is frustrating sometimes.

God Among Other Gods

2006-04-20T20:23:00.000-07:00

2 Kings 17:28-33

So one of the priests whom they had carried away from Samaria came and lived in Bethel and taught them how they should fear the Lord.
But every nation still made gods of its own and put them in the shrines of the high places that the Samaritans had made, every nation in the cities in which they lived. The men of Babylon made Succoth-benoth, the men of Cuth made Nergal, the men of Hamath made Ashima, and the Avvites made Nibhaz and Tartak; and the Sepharvites burned their children in the fire to Adrammelech and Anammelech, the gods of Sepharvaim. They also feared the Lord and appointed from among themselves all sorts of people as priests of the high places, who sacrificed for them in the shrines of the high places. So they feared the Lord but also served their own gods, after the manner of the nations from among whom they had been carried away.

This story is about the origin of the Samaritan people that the Jews came to hate so very much that they would not even talk to each other. The hatred became so profound that a woman beside a well would be shocked that a Jewish man would talk to her, at least until she discovered that he was Messiah.

What's creepy about this story is that it paints a picture of what can happen to anyone when they do not make a clear choice to trust God. These people believed in God - they had a priest come and teach them about God and taught them how to fear God. They believed in the Great I Am, and they feared him.

But they also feared others.

The believed in God, but they didn't believe that He was the one true God. They believed he was truly God, but that others were just as true. Nibhaz and Tartak had just as much claim on true divinity as Yahweh. Even bloodthirsty Adrammelech and Anammelech, who drank the blood of their children, were as worthy of worship in their minds as was the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

How very post modern of them. They didn't want to offened any sensibilities or any dieties by making any exclusive truth claims. One God is as real as another, and we all are really on the same spiritual path going to the same places. We shouldn't tie ourselves down to one truth or one God. Yahweh, Allah, Kami, Brahman, Adrammelech, Jesus - all are equally valid.

Except, of course, that they are not equal. Each of these Gods expects different things of His/Its followers. Yahweh and His son Jesus call people to a life lived in love of Him and love of others. Adrammelech calls for his followers to sacrifice their children to him. These are clearly not the same Gods, and adherance to these very different belief systems results in people doing different things and becoming very different people.

God does not put up with this. He will not be one among many. He calls for our allegiance to Him and to HIm alone.

He knows very well that we need HIm and HIm alone. If He were to let us have our own gods, we would destroy ourselves with them. We would feed them our children, hoping that they would protect us.

We American's are very sophesticated people - we would never dream of having a false God to which we would sacrifice our children. Except perhaps for the god of Wealth and Economic Security that we worship with the hours of our lives and love more than our families. We are willing to give up our families for this god. Or perhaps the god of adventerous adultery - we will happily feed our children's wellbeing to this god, and tell them it is none of their business what we do with our private time. Or the lying god of eternal good health. Or the god of entertainment. Or a thousand other secular gods that America worships.

This text is frightening to me, because it is not that the people here do not believe in God. They do. They trust him. They fear him. They even send for a priest to teach them how to fear God correctly.

But they have brought their own gods into the relationship as well. They want God's protection, but they want to hedge their bets and make sure that the other gods are pulling for them too.

I believe in God, but I still want a good portfolio to care for my old age years. I trust God, but I still want an extensive education to prove to myself and to others that I am competent. When I get sick, I pray, but my first thought is of medicin and doctors. I trust God to provide for me, but I still have insurance.

I suppose some of that is just being responsible. But how much of it is a lack of faith in the one God and too much faith in other gods?

Perfect Peace

2006-04-19T21:03:00.000-07:00

Isaiah 26:3 [ESV]

You keep him in perfect peace
whose mind is stayed on you,
because he trusts in you.

How do I do that? How do I get my mind to stay on Him?

There is so much that distracts me. And the louder it all gets, the less peace I have.

And yet in the middle of the loudest cacophony, the craziest chaos, the wildest life-storm, if I will just let my heart rest in His direction, I am overwhelmed with a relief-bringing flood of peace. If I will just trust Him, I can rest no matter how awful things are or what threats I face.

Because He is able to give me quietness of heart and mind, relaxation of tight muscles, steadiness in my belly, and open hands instead of clenched fists. Grinding of teeth is a behavior of those in hell, not at rest in the presence of God.

I have felt Him come crashing down on me with His peace before. There have been times when I have thought, “I can’t do this! I am not strong/smart/good/competent enough to get through this!” And in that terror, I turn to God and give that fear to Him, and He comes wading into my heart like a warrior to liberate me from my fears. He crushes them – the dragons of my heart – like bugs.

He is my peace. My only hope of being the man I want to be is in Him.

If I will trust Him, and take the time to seek Him, He will give me peace.

His peace He will leave with me. He does not give as the world gives. I must not let my heart be troubled, neither should I let it be afraid.

Perfect peace. That’s surely worth the time it takes to pray

My Foolish But Seeking Heart

2006-04-01T18:07:00.000-08:00

Psalm 53:1-2 [English Standard Version]

1 The fool says in his heart, “There is no God.”
They are corrupt, doing abominable iniquity;
there is none who does good.

2 God looks down from heaven
on the children of man
to see if there are any who understand,
who seek after God.

We are all of us fools. There is not one human person born who does not make this dreadful mistake.

I believe in God, but there are times when I don't.

It isn't that I stop believing in him logically. In fact, aside from one faith struggle I went through in college, I don't think there has been a time when I've really doubted the existance of God. I know he's real.

But if I look at my behavior, I have to conclude that there are times when my heart doesn't believe what my head knows is true. It isn't so much that I think with my head, "I chose not to believe in God." It's that my heart decides, "I don't want to do what is right, I want to do this instead."

I think this is the way of fallen people - we may want to believe in God, but we just don't do it all the time. Not when we are acting out our sinfulness, because if we believed in an Almighty, God, we would never treat people the way that we do. His wrath would terrify us! We would never dare to act on our lusts, or lash out in anger, or decieve people, or take what is not ours to take. We wouldn't do these things if we believed in God in our hearts, because fear of him would keep us from it. Even if the love of God did not inspire us to behave ourselves, the terror of him would do it.

But we don't really believe. We think we can get away with it. We think that if he exists at all, he'll wink at our evil misbehavior, and give us a pass. Our hearts decide that God is not God, and it won't really matter.

And God watches all this unbelief, searching our hearts and minds and behaviors to see if there is anyone who realizes what this unbelief is doing to us. Do any of us really understand our state? Is there anyone on earth who comprehends what sin does to us, the distortion and death it brings into us, and the estrangement from Him.

And is there anyone who will turn from all that mess and try to find Him again?

If you don't know God, the idea of him looking down from heaven is a pretty creepy picture - an All-powerful Being watching us to see what we are going to do, and perhaps trying to decide how best to kill us.

But if you do know God, then it isn't scarry. It's hopeful.

To think that God has not given up. To think that even though I acted like I didn't believe in Him, He has not stopped believing in me. He's looking for me, to see if I will look for him.

This Psalm leaves it up in the air - if I do seek him, what then? Will that matter? If I have acted in ways that say "there is no God," will he let me come back from that?

And this is where I think of Jesus promise to me - If I will seek, I will find. God is there to be found, and because of the cross, I am not so alienated from Him that He cannot bring me back.

If we will seek him, his salvation waits for us.

Search and Rescue

2006-03-30T15:14:00.000-08:00

Ezekiel 34:11-12 [ESV]

11 “For thus says the Lord God: Behold, I, I myself will search for my sheep and will seek them out. 12 As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so will I seek out my sheep, and I will rescue them from all places where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness.

Sometimes, I feel God probing into my soul, pushing His way into the dark places in my heart.

Not that I feel him force himself upon me - it's not that. I have never felt violated by God.

But like a good friend, or a good therapist, or a good father - like the good God that he is - where there is trouble, he goes to help. When I know there is trouble in me - I've just been rude or short with someone and I know it, or I have had some old sin that I thought was long behind me jump up and surprise me, or any of the broken things we fallen humans do - when I am honest about the sinful trouble within me, and I take the time to look at it, I am amazed by how often I find God there.

It's strange, because I would expect him to be far from there. I would expect him to shun my sinfulness, to find me as abhorrent as I find myself, to be unwilling to be soiled by the grime of my broken heart.

But that isn't how I experience him. When I find myself far from him, when I see myself so different from him, so much less than what I ought to be, that's when I find him close to me. He pursues us, comes after us.

When there is something that I don't want to deal with inside myself - anger or hate, lust, fear, failure, pride - I find Him wanting to go right there. When I try to ignore it, when I let a day or two go by after doing something stupid or bad or down right evil, it's amazing how often I find him bringing it up. I settle into prayer, and I want to spend time with him, and whatever the problem is in my heart comes whispery into my mind. As if he will spend time with me, but first we must deal with this.

Or perhaps I don't settle into prayer. Perhaps I know very well that I should pray, but I feel bad about something. Maybe Ash and I have a fight, and I know she was more right than me, or I am ashamed of how childish I was. Sometimes when I do stuff like that, I feel to guilty or stupid to pray. And in some quiet moment during the day, I feel him prompting me to get with him and talk to him. But when I feel bad enough about something that I'm not praying, I know that if I do pray, we are going to have to deal with this shame first. I know that if I go to him, the very thing I don't want to think about is the very thing we are going to spend time with. So I don't want to give in to his gentle pursuit.

It's as if I hear him outside of me, asking me to let him in so that he can deal with it. And I don't want him to, because I know I'll have to face what I really am - a sinner struggling to leave behind my sin. I don't want to face that reality. I want to already be whole and perfect and good. I don't want to deal with the dark in me. I don't even want to think about myself as a less than admirable, likable person. I'd prefer to just pretend that I am who I wish I was already.

But he can be relentless. Especially when times are quiet. He comes pushing and whispering at me, and there is weight on my heart, and I know that it is him, and that he wants me to look in and see what's really in there. He wants me to confront the hidden parts of myself, so that I can stop trying to hide them from him - he knows about them anyway.

He knows that I am lost without him. He is coming after me himself - pursuing me into my own heart, coming after me to the place where I have wandered. The thing is, when I really wander from him, it isn't to some far off place outside of me, but to some far off place within myself. When the clouds and thick darkness cause me to loose sight of him, it is into my own sinfulness that I wander away. That's when I behave in ways that he never would and be a person that is so unlike him - without my sight on him, I become the me that I don't like.

And though I may not want to deal with Him when he comes with his gentle pressure, I know that he is coming to rescue me. I know that he seeks me so that he can save me from what I will become without his help. He's rescuing me from that dark place where I become an agent of darkness in this world and make the world a worse place.

And when he does this to me, and together God and I sift through my worthless heart - when we work where the pain is, I find him doing the most amazing healing. He really is a savior God, coming after me to rescue me from myself.

God's Song

2006-03-28T04:28:00.000-08:00

Zephaniah 3:15-17 [ESV]

15 The Lord has taken away the judgments against you;
he has cleared away your enemies.
The King of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst;
you shall never again fear evil.
16 On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:
“Fear not, O Zion;
let not your hands grow weak.
17 The Lord your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.

When Isaac was born, I held him in my arms, and I sang to him. Ashley took a picture of me, and I had no idea how sad I can look when I am so incredibly happy. Holding this little boy, my son, my beautiful, wonderful son - so fresh and new in the world, looking for all the world like my dead father, born with all his dark hair, resting quiet against my chest - I was filled with wonder and awe and gratefulness.

I sang a song that long ago my father sang to me. It's by Peter, Paul and Mary, called “Day is Done.” It's a song that basically says, I love you little boy, and everything is going to be all right.

As I sang to my son, I thought of my father. I thought of how much he loved me – Bobby R. Brown did everything in his life with incredible passion, whether it was something good or something very bad, and his love for me was no exception. My father loved me so much, and though I think he never really believed he could sing well, his song to me has always been a treasure in my heart.

I think my father sang that song to me because of his own fears and hopes. He hoped that if I would take his hand, I would be all right, but I think it was just as significant to him that he would be all right. That if he could love me, and know that I loved him, then his life would be better.

It breaks my heart to think that I wasn’t enough to heal his madness. I feel sometimes like I failed him. Like I wish that my love for him could have been enough to change him, and help him become sound and whole, and allow him to live. That I could have made his life better when the days were done – not just by easing his pain, but by diminishing his evil.

But how silly – I am not God.

I cannot even do this for myself! I wrestle with my own sick heart, my own broken parts, and I try to put pieces of myself back together, but as long as I am doing this myself, it all keeps falling apart. I don’t expect Isaac to help me with this, any more than I think Dad expected me to solve his depression or alcoholism. The fact that I wish I could have is a silly, boyish dream, kind of like when I used to wish I was Superman and could fly.

We simply cannot do this for each other. We can love each other, and we can hold each other, and cluster together against the darkness – but the world outside of us stays a mess. It doesn’t get better, and all is not well when the day is done. Worse, much worse, the world inside of us isn’t healed by our love for each other either! Instead, our love for each other is infected and distorted by the brokenness inside of us.

So I guess the song “Day is Done” is just a silly, hopeful dream. I can hold Isaac’s hand, but I can’t promise him that “all will be well” at the end of any day, can I? It breaks my heart into shards to think that someday, this beautiful little boy will take up my broken ways of sin. That he too will have to learn to fear evil, and that like his father, and like my father, he will hurt with the pain of being who he never wanted to become.

But what if God sings the song?

The picture in Zephaniah 3:17 is one of the most stunning ones in the Bible. I’m not sure which is more powerful, Jesus weeping, or God singing. Both are amazing pictures of love.

I think about God singing over me like I sang over my son, like my father sang over me. I know the joy in my heart as I sang to Isaac, and I wonder, is that how You feel about me God?

Just imagine the voice that first broke the darkness and spoke light into existence, the voice that continued speaking things into existence until He spoke your life into the world. Now imagine that voice singing to you, singing about you. Imagine strong arms holding you against a chest that contains a passionate heart, while the deep music that created the universe is sung in joy about you!

This is one who can do for us what I could never do for my father, and will probably not be able to do for my son either, what in truth I cannot even do for myself – He can quiet our troubled hearts. All the terror of the world around us just drops away when we are in his presence. All the sorrow and shame of the evil within us is carried away by His love.

He is in our midst! He is mighty to save us! He can help us to have strong hands that do good things, instead of weak hands that do those things that we do without Him in our lives.

And when day is done, it really will be well. When all of the dark, evil days are over, and they are swallowed up by the eternal day of God’s light and love, then all will be well. God can promise that all really will be well when these dark days are done.

I think that God is singing even now. That when I take the time to listen, my fear of darkness and of sin and death are vanquished by the beauty and wonder of His loving song. When I will take the time to try to hear his singing, I find that sin fades in me even now. Even now, before the end of the day, he is making me well.

So my dream for Isaac is not that I will be able to keep him from the brokenness of this dark world. Oh I dream that, and wish for that, but I don’t guess I really believe that. I wish I could keep my son from the sorrow and shame of sin, but I don’t think I have the power to do that.

No, my dream for Isaac is not that he will hear me sing to him and be healed by my love.

My dream for Isaac is that he will hear his true Father sing to him. And perhaps that he will long to sing with God His wonderful love song.

Walking with a Limp

2006-03-07T15:50:00.000-08:00

Genesis 32:24-31 [ESV]

24 And Jacob was left alone. And a man wrestled with him until the breaking of the day. 25 When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he touched his hip socket, and Jacob's hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. 26 Then he said, “Let me go, for the day has broken.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” 27 And he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” 28 Then he said, “Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, [5] for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed.” 29 Then Jacob asked him, “Please tell me your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him. 30 So Jacob called the name of the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life has been delivered.” 31 The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip.

Assuming I don't keep changing the title of this blog, this is the scripture I had in mind when I titled it. I kind of think that I'll be using this blog for my own Spirit-Walk.

It's interesting to me that this story starts with: Jacob was left alone. I really don't like to be alone. I don't always want to be around people, but I run from the quiet of being alone. I turn on the TV and let the 24-hour news channel blather on and on, or I turn on the radio and let the political noise do its thing. I let the sound distract me and keep me from being alone.

But God comes to people who are alone. I believe that more than ever now that I've actually spent some time with Him. I think He disdains our distractions, and will not approach a distracted heart. He wants us for Himslef, and He wants to have us alone.

So why don't I do it more? Well, it's not always fun. Sometimes, being in God's presence is like listening to the best music that was every performed while eating the best food that I've ever tasted and smelling flowers from some far away exotic volcano. But other times, it's like going two rounds with Mike Tyson (I say two rounds, even though when God is hard, I rarely go more than one). (Of course, with Mike Tyson, I'm sure I could easily go two. Seconds.)

Because God will touch where it hurts! He makes me look at how ugly I am inside. He shows me all the vanity of my anger. An honest contact with Him shows me just how misplaced my pride really is - he is so much better than me, and he doesn't mind if I discover that. His purity burns my impurity of heart. When God is hard, I find myself splintered to pieces against him.

But even then, I want Him! When I am smart enough to be alone so that I can be with God, and I find Him being firm with me, my first thought is, "Oh NO!" But I don't want to leave right away! I want to grapple with Him and be so bold as to demand my wounded hip! I want my blessing, and when I am faithful enough, I grasp at Him and cry out, "Don't leave without blessing me!"

I want my life to be marked by my encounters with Him. I want to walk with a limp because I have wrestled with Him! I know He won't mark me from a distance - I will have to get close enough to let Him hurt me. But his wounds are kind - I know the hurts I receive from Him are therapeutic and that I cannot really live without them. I want God to so mark my life that my spiritual walk is a limping walk.

I think there are people who want to have a spiritual walk, but don't want the limp. They want to believe everything just right without having to get into the ring with God. They want his blessings, but they don't want him putting their joints out of socket. A spiritual walk like that has no limp. It also has no truth or reality. A sinner without a limp is a sinner. The Pharisees had no limp. Many Christians don't limp either.

I know this because I was like this for most of my life - pleanty of truth, not much prayer; lots of study, not much contemplation; knowing lots about God, but never believing He would actually care if I didn't try to get to know Him. Why would I limp? I knew the truth and was free. I thought that it was the lost sinner, not the sanctified righteous, who walked with limps.

No more. Now I know that sometimes God will hit more personally than the world does, because unlike the world, God expects me to change. God wants to alter me rather than letting the world (and my own foolish heart) kill me. And the alteration will hurt.

So I want my walk to be broken. I want my heart to be broken. I hope He hits me so hard that I never try to stand up on my own ever again. It would be okay with me if I have to lean on Him for every step I take for the rest of my life.

I say that, and as I think about it, it fills me with fear. The kind of fear I feel just before the doctor gives me a shot and I think - oh man, I hope this doesn't hurt too bad!

But better the cure than death. Better to limp.

John's Encouragement

2006-03-07T05:13:00.000-08:00

Isaiah 35:3-8 [ESV]

3 Strengthen the weak hands,
and make firm the feeble knees.
4 Say to those who have an anxious heart,
“Be strong; fear not!
Behold, your God
will come with vengeance,
with the recompense of God.
He will come and save you.”

5 Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
and the ears of the deaf unstopped;
6 then shall the lame man leap like a deer,
and the tongue of the mute sing for joy.
For waters break forth in the wilderness,
and streams in the desert;
7 the burning sand shall become a pool,
and the thirsty ground springs of water;
in the haunt of jackals, where they lie down,
the grass shall become reeds and rushes.

8 And a highway shall be there,
and it shall be called the Way of Holiness;
the unclean shall not pass over it.
It shall belong to those who walk on the way;
even if they are fools, they shall not go astray.

The text God led me to for encouragement last night when I was feeling so incredibly freaked out was verse four in this passage. This morning, I went back to it, kind of to remember that whatever I will face today will be something that God can help me through.

I read the verses around it, and something hit me pretty hard. I thought of John the Baptist, and his question for Jesus - are you the one I was told to expect, or is there someone else? - and I thought about my stress in light of John's. I guess what he was going through was probably a little harder, being in prison for being a good person.

And I thought of Jesus' reply to John and how much it sounds like this passage. Look at his reply and compare it to verses 5 and 6 in Isaiah 35. Here are Jesus words:

Matthew 11:4-5 [ESV]

4 And Jesus answered them, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: 5 the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. 6 And blessed is the one who is not offended by me.”

See the similarity? I wonder if Jesus did that on purpose. I wonder if Jesus meant for John to think of Isaiah 35 in light of his reply. Because John certainly knew the prophet Isaiah - he understood his whole life in light of Isaiah's prophecy! He believed he was the voice crying out in the wilderness to "prepare a way for the Lord and make his path straight!" Isn't it interesting that verse eight talks about a prepared way? Was Jesus telling John - "You did it, buddy! You fulfilled your life purpose. You may not understand everything I'm doing or how things are working out, but you can know this - you have done the job God put in front of you! Good job, John."

And in the midst of that hope, is the promise of salvation. Maybe not deliverance from prison ('cause that didn't happen), but that God would save him. And I suppose in eternity, John will certainly be among the saved. In a sense, knowing that your life has purpose and that you've lived it is part of salvation.

Anyway, I think about how Jesus took care of John, even though he didn't rescue him from his distressing situation. I think of that, and I think - he'll take care of me too. All I have to do is trust him.

An Anxious Heart Tonight

2006-03-06T15:34:00.000-08:00

Isaiah 35:4 [English Standard Version]

4 Say to those who have an anxious heart, “Be strong; fear not! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God. He will come and save you.”

I have an anxious heart tonight!

I am supposed to defend my thesis sometime, but I have no idea when. My professor won't get back with me! I expected to hear from him tonight, but I have heard nothing! It maybe even this week.

On top of this, a group of college students is coming to work with our congregation, and I'm feeling a bit wigged out about that. Put those two together, and you've got a heart that can hardly think about God or listen to Him. I feel no peace in my heart right now - I feel a constant grating, as if paper were being torn slowly in my gut.

Be strong, God says. Isn't that a weird command to someone who feels overcome and weak? Be strong? I wish I could. But I'm so overwhelmed.

And a voice in my head says, "Are you going to obey or not? God told you to be strong. You are making a choice to dwell in and on your weakness. Trust God! He will work all this out."

And I think that voice is probably the Spirit of God Himself, and that I should trust it.

But right now, I don't want to be strong. I want to be angry and stressed - to shout and break things. I want to be weak! I want to dwell on how things might not work out instead of trusting that they will.

Be strong!

Do not be afraid, God says. A hard one to hear as well, when it seems to me that I have every reason to be afraid.

Again, that voice in my head - the choice is mine to obey. If I want to be strong and not to be afraid, then I must trust God. The only way I can be strong when I am at the end of my rope like this is to borrow strength from Him. The only way I can be at peace and not affraid is if I trust him to take care.

Which is what he promised - he will come and save.

So I think, okay, I'll try to be strong. I'll try.

And now, I wonder if the voice in my head is God or Yoda when I hear, "There is no try! Do!"

So I will obey. Even though my heart feels what it does, I will tell it to be quiet within me. I will get a grip on my emotions, and love my kids and do my work, and I will trust God to take care of me.

I love you, God, and I am counting on you to help me though all this stress and anxiety. I will trust you. Please help me.

Saturday Prep Work

2006-03-04T11:48:00.000-08:00

Matthew 28:2 [English Standard Version]

2 And behold, there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone and sat on it.

I don't do it every Saturday, but I should. Most often, Saturday is crazy for me - I'm putting last minute polish on what I'll be doing the next day, working through kinks and trying to make things as strong as possible. I usually don't have much still time on Saturday.

But today I'm taking a minute to consider the wonder of an angel sitting on a big, unnecessary rock.

Tomorrow, I'm hoping to have an encounter with God among his people, and I want my heart to be ready for that. The thing that gets me ready for tomorrow isn't all the prep work I do on my class or my sermon, or laying out my clothes so we won't have to deal with that tomorrow.

What gets me ready is God's action so long ago when he emptied a grave.

It set's my heart toward worship if I close my eyes for a moment and remember the God who I have - what he's like, what kind of power he has and to what lengths he is willing to go. He's willing to send his son on a mission into a realm of darkness, to guide him through the world of death and pain but not to protect him from it.

He is a God willing to watch a horror I cannot contemplate without pain. When I imagine the death of my son, my heart locks and screams, NO! He would see the blood fly, listen to the screams and groans of Jesus. He would hear the soldiers laugh and see their terrible smiles, and watch them gamble for his son's only possession - his clothes. He would see the iron driven through flesh and into wood. He would listen to the crowd laugh and point and jeer. He would let this all go on. Because of the kind of God that he is, He will not stop it all.

He would do all of this because I needed it.

I have all this death in me - all these things I've been and done, all this distance I've put between me and my God, all the times I've been angry and let it fly without control, all the times I've been dishonest or manipulative or unkind, all of my lazy or unguarded moments - it was killing me! Sometimes, it feels like it still is.

But it isn't killing me anymore.

Because it killed Him instead.

Oh grief! Oh shame! Oh sorrow beyond understanding! The Prince of Light has died, and I am responsible. Oh horror!

At least, that's how it would be. Except for that angel sitting on the useless rock.

Instead of grief, the angel tells me to rejoice.

He sits on the stone to show me the empty cave that proves that all of my shame has been taken away. The angel on the rock tells me that Jesus is alive and that He has taken it all from me.

Because of the empty grave, it isn't sorrow that passes understanding, but peace!

Instead of horror, I find him showering me with honor - adoption into his own family! The Prince of Light has called me to stand with him as a member of his family and to know his Father as my own.

And now I am ready. I cannot wait for tomorrow to come. I want to worship Him now!

The Very Present Help

2006-03-03T19:50:00.000-08:00

Psalm 46:1-3 [English Standard Version]

1 God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble at its swelling.

Most people who live long enough face times when they feel their world collapse under them. This is such a terribly broken world that horror and pain come to all of us. If you don't know what I'm talking about, wait a little longer. It'll make sense eventually.

I don't mean to be depressing - just realistic. The world we live in is messed up, and awful things happen all around us all the time. Sometimes they touch us very personally. When that happens to you, I think your going through the kind of life event that the psalmist is writhing about here. "Though the earth gives way" he says. I've felt the earth give way. I've been through times in my life where things seemed to be fine, and then suddenly I'm in a ruined heap.

What do those times look like? It's different for everyone. Death of someone you love will often take the ground from beneath you. A lost pregnancy. A lost job. A church split is a big one. A slide back into addiction or the threat of it - the emotional pull that comes out of nowhere so unexpectedly and threatens to rip you apart. Unexpected illness - to hear that you have cancer will make you wonder if there is any solid ground anywhere. A relationship collapse - a divorce will tear the ground under the parents of the divorcing people, the children in the broken family, and separating spouses themselves. Or even something trivial like an undeserved chew out session from an angry boss.

When the world collapses under us, our typical first reaction is to complain and to wonder why. Why did this terrible thing happen to me, we wonder, as if I am special, and should be exempt from all the junk of the broken world. Why indeed. Why should it happen to other people and not to me? Somehow, I don't think of that question when life comes tumbling in on me.

Or else we just shut down. Our hearts fill up with fear and our minds lock up. If life can be this uncertain, what can I depend on? God didn't protect me from this - what else will he let fall on me?

What this psalm is trying to do to us is to redirect us when life does tumble in on us. To remind us that complaint and fear are not our only options.

When life gets so hard that it seems that there is no high ground to which we can run, when it seems that even the mountains have been swept away in the flood and the ground is no longer there to stand on - we can either react with terror and complaint or with faith and trust.

The words that are most encouraging in these verses are "very present help." It isn't just that he's there - he's really, really there! When trouble comes, and life gets as bad as it can get, and then it gets a little bit worse, don't you find that you become more aware of Him? Do you find that you look for him more when you are desperate for him?

I know I do. When I've been through really bad times, when nothing in my life seemed to be going well or to make sense, when I've soaked my pillow with tears at night, when the world around me has gone gray like someone turned down all the colors and I find myself trying to remember what it was like to laugh, in those bad times I find that I grow more in my faith, that I open myself up more to God.

And in those times, I find God to be safe.

When all else is bad, God is not. No matter how upset I am, He can handle all my pettiness, my pain, my raging heart. My hurt pours into Him, and what might really hurt someone else is simply gone when I give it to Him. And in the emptiness I find peace.

He is a refuge from the broken world - a safe place to go and find peace when my life has no peace.

He is strength when all my strength is gone. When life has exhausted me and I cannot go on any more, He is the one who makes it possible for me to go on. Why is it that so often I have to get all the way to exhausted before I turn to Him?

In the worst times of my life, He has been there. I have never faced a hard time alone. Even when I wasn't looking for Him, I can look back and see his influence. Even when I was looking for Him and couldn't see Him at the time, I can see His work later and know that He was there with me.

When the world falls away underneath you, run to the refuge. He is very present and wants to help you.

God is Salvation

2006-03-01T19:49:00.000-08:00

Isaiah 12:1-2 [English Standard Version]

12:1 You will say in that day:
I will give thanks to you, O Lord,
for though you were angry with me,
your anger turned away,
that you might comfort me.

2 Behold, God is my salvation;
I will trust, and will not be afraid;
for the Lord God is my strength and my song,
and he has become msalvationn.Ã‚?

These words are deeply emotional words for me. I cannot read them without thinking of the cross. His anger turned away from me alright - it all was turned on Jesus. Every vile and twisted thing I've ever been was pushed onto Jesus so that God might become my comfort!

How amazing is this God of ours. He loves us so much that even while we are wicked he chooses to turn his anger aside. He makes that choice, and He also becomes one of us so that His terrible anger will have somewhere to go.

The wrath of God pours out of God and into God so that He might become our peace, our comfort and our salvation.

I will give thanks to you, O Lord. They are meaningful words, but they seem so small next to what He has done. How can I ever hope to give Him thanks enough? What words are there to express that? All of human language is small and weak next to God's amazing action. How can words ever be enough

So I will trust Him, and I will not be afraid. I think this is how I give Him my thanks - I live my life with faith in Him, trusting Him, and giving to Him every fear that threatens me. If He can be my salvation and rescuecue me from myself and from all my wretchedness, if He can turn His anger aside from my sins, surely He can handle my parenting problems, or my financial worries, or my health troubles. By trusting Him with all my life - that's how I put flesh on my thanks. Even as He put on flesh to be my forgiveness and my salvation, my trust is my thanks incarnate.

And when I begin to trust Him, I discover something wonderful. Something that my sin would hide from me if I stayed lost in my sins. When I trust Him, I find that He is truly everything I've ever wanted in my life. I would never have known how really wonderful it can be to be with God if I had only trusted myself. But trustin Him I find that just resting in His presence and being quiet with Him - this is life. I might have lived my whole life chasing things that would never give me peace. I might have lived all my life trying to prove to Him (or to the people around me or even just to myself) that I am really a good and loveable person. But when I trust Him, I find that He IS salvation from all of that.

God is not merely savior. He is salvation. To be with Him is heaven. He is paradise. In His presence is where the Kingdom is realized in my life. When I rest with Him, when I pray and know He is with me, when I meditate on His Word, I experience Him, and He is salvation. I am rescued from life without Him. With Him, I am not the weak man who fails all the time, but I become strong. With Him is empowerment to become who I dream I might be in the very best of my dreams. With Him, all of life becomes music and song.

All of this comes from Jesus, who gave himself for me so that the anger that I inspired in God might be turned away, and God might become my comfort and my salvation. What an amazing man He is. I love Him so much.

You Have Only to Be Silent

2006-02-28T08:21:00.000-08:00

Exodus 14:12-14 [English Standard Version]

12 Is not this what we said to you in Egypt, ‘Leave us alone that we may serve the Egyptians’? For it would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness.” 13 And Moses said to the people, “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will work for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall never see again. 14 The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.”

So often in my life, I find myself full of anxiety and worry and stress. Mostly it manifests in a bad, grumpy mood, but I know that deep down, it's that my life isn't completely under my own control. I find this has been more true ever since the two little ones came along.

Particularly when I am up against a dead line, or something big is happening in my work - I feel the fear of messing up and leaving someone's life worse than it would have been without me, the fear of dropping the ball, or I fear feeling like a failure. When the stress is rolling over me, I find myself wondering why I even wanted to be in this line of work - why couldn't I be doing something less personal?

When I am really overwhelmed, this scripture comes to my mind. [Okay, sometimes, it comes to my mind after God sorts my stressful situation out for me, and I think, "Duh! Why didn't I think of that before?"] My troubles may not get blotted out as spectacularly as the Egyptians did, but God does tend to take care of them.

And even when He does not, even when He leaves me twisting in the wind for longer than I'd like with uncertainty or danger around me, I find that if I will only be silent in the presence of God, the worry and stress and anxiety are washed away in the sea of His power.

I need more quiet time with God - silent with Him to experience and witness His power.

Praying with Gillian

2006-02-28T08:02:00.000-08:00

One of the best times of my day is praying with Gillian just before she drifts off to sleep. Lately, she's been wanting to say the prayers herself (which means that I say a few words and she repeats them).

One of the first nights we ever did this, after we thanked God for everyone on the planet who knows and loves Gillian (a pretty long list), out of the blue, she says "I love you God." A sweet simple little voice, full of sleep and whispers, a little bit afraid of who she's talking to, but truely loving Him too.

I sat there in absolute wonder - where did that come from? The heart of a child, that's where. It brings tears to my eyes.

Now we say that everytime she prays. And I find myself saying it a lot now too. I love my daughter, and I love that she's teaching me to love God more.

Welcome Friends

2006-02-27T07:41:00.000-08:00

For about two weeks, some of us have been sharing scriptures and breif devotional thoughts through email. We've all found that it makes our days better.

We hope this blog will widen the conversation and spread the encouragement further.