Sing a Song to the Darkness

I was awakened in the early morning gray by the sound of one little bird singing. His sweet trilling call rang out strong and silver. I had to smile at his bold declaration, his confidence, that the morning was coming.

As the gray softened and gave way to the morning his lone voice was joined by many friends. After making a cup of tea I stepped out on the back patio. The luminous moon hung low and full behind the pines. By now the yard was alive with the morning song of dozens of birds, almost raucous.

Is your life wrapped in gray? Turn your ear and listen for hope singing in the darkness, and join it. (Tweet This)

"But as for me, I will sing about your power. Each morning I will sing with joy about your unfailing love. For you have been my refuge, a place of safety when I am in distress." Psalm 95:15

Other people are in the darkness listening. When your song of hope, of joy in your salvation, breaks out in the lean space between night and morning it touches another heart and invites your friends to join in the song.

When the job is over sing, when the illness drags long sing, when the news is bad sing, after a night of grieving sing. 

I believe in the spiritual discipline of mourning. Stuffing or denying our sorrow isn't healthy or wise. God is looking for followers who will join him in sorrow. Grieving their own sin and the effects of sin in this world. But after a night of grief joy comes. 

The darkness is all around you. Sing a song to it. A song of hopeful confidence that morning will come, a bold declaration of faith in Jesus unfailing love.

When do you find it most difficult to sing about God's love? Have you had a friend ignite hope in your own heart before? Tell us about it!

Becoming Washers of Feet

I'm writing less and more sporadically these days, and it seems more raw. I thought when I came back from Serbia last October I would be a more liberated, world wise writer. I was wrong. It seems that words have become like a jagged, ugly cry rather than a thing of beauty. But some things of beauty, at least outwardly, are hideous. A brand new baby in a smelly, manure filled stable for example. Or perfect Jesus, with the tender voice and piercing eyes, blood matted on a cross. Perhaps that's where worth comes in, the holy meeting the putrid in a visceral mess.

Lately, when I un-clench a protective hand from my blood red heart, I stare at a silver vein running through it. It creates a stark contrast, this sliver of hope tracing itself on flesh. A promise held in trust. It aches like a splinter and throbs like love, tethering it's owners together, stretched thin through time and space.

What story can be told? I've told it before, over and over. Hands I've held in my own, small and dry from lack of care. Chewed for comfort, missing a mother's touch. I remember the feel of them; some days I wish I didn't. And yet he smiles and coos and laughs, if you can call the sound he makes laughter. Who's womb bore him and then gave him up when illness clamped it's steely jaws around his mind? Why would I, a stranger, grieve and cry and pray and beg for his life more than his own flesh and blood? What could her story be.

Sometimes I remember his fragile frame and wonder if a soul and body can just disappear. How many months until his stick legs are bent and twisted, never to straighten again? Will his smile dry up and the mask of loss be his to wear forever? Will the dull, glassy, institutional eyes replace the sparkle? Will he be lost for good? At the moment I see life flicker behind his eyes and I pray it doesn't vanish.

I'll see him in July. I catch my breath and wonder what I'll find. Will he be in the little bed, arms pushed through the rails, waiting? Will he have changed? Will I be able to bear seeing him again?

Sometimes I wonder how the world can take the burgeoning weight of her orphans without ripping at the seams of her huge heart, when it feels my own cannot. How do you taste the brutal love of a Father grieving for his children and not stagger under the weight of it? I cannot, and so most days I cry.

I cry for his mother who knew a beautiful, sweet child and lost him to disease. I cry for the hopes she had for who he would be. I cry for his body, his time, his future, his days locked away from love. I cry for what could have been and what may not be. I cry for me to have seen him and have fallen in love and have to live without him. I cry for everyone who hasn't seen, and lives as if he and his brothers and sisters don't exist, and miss the agony of caring. I cry because I escaped a life of neglect that so many in the world have known. I cry because Jesus cries and he wants company in the grieving. I cry because one day I trust I won't have to any more.

He's just one orphan of so very many, why could it possibly matter that I love him? Ezekiel 16 contains a peculiar passage that hints at the answer. God says to his people Israel, "No one had the slightest interest in you; no one pitied you or cared for you. On the day you were born, you were unwanted, dumped in a field and left to die. “But I came by and saw you there, helplessly kicking about in your own blood. As you lay there, I said, ‘Live!’" Is that not the story of humanity, of me? Is that not the story of the cross?

What if God had passed  by on the day we became orphans in the Garden at the beginning of time? What if he decided Jesus was too great of a price for our own lives, could you blame him? But he didn't. He has pursued us as though we have always been his sons and daughters.

That's what I came away with this Easter season. I was reminded that a great God stooped to clean and care for an orphaned humanity. I was reminded that I'm not greater than my Master and just as he washed feet it's my privilege and responsibility to wash feet too. Wherever I may find them. In my home, in my church, on the side of the road, in Serbia.

I wish I could daily wash the feet of this little orphaned boy. But right now I can't. And so I daily choose to bear the burden of love and wash his feet in prayer from a distance. It's always more complicated when holy and profane meet. I don't know if I'll ever bring him home and be his mama. But I will climb in the yoke of suffering with Jesus. The cross has made a way, and burdens that never seemed as if they could be born, for the love of Jesus, can be. I will labor for this child. The heavy heart that comes, in the light of Jesus, becomes a joy.

When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them. John 13:12-17

Who's burden are you carrying, who's feet has Jesus asked you to wash. The burden becomes joy when carried in love.

Leaving Behind I'm not, Embracing I Am!

It's easy for me to get stuck and recite in my head what I'm not. How about you? Statements like I'm not pretty enough, not organized enough, not thin enough, not successful enough, not patient enough, not good enough taunt me. But today I'm reminded to focus on what I am. Because God has revealed himself to us as I AM and shared his very nature with us, as his people, we too can say "I am"! (Exodus 33)

Maybe, like me, you have gotten stuck on the I'm not's. Instead I invite you, leave that broken record behind, and join me in declaring I am!

God's love has enabled us to say, I am chosen.
His mercy has empowered us to say, I am forgiven.
His Word has taught us to say, I am wise.
His presence has emboldened us to say, I am known.
His power has invited us to shed the robe of victim, and claim I am a conqueror.
His robe of righteousness gives us the right to say, I am beautiful.
His design has taught us to say, I am precious.
His promise has given us reason to say, I am hopeful.
His gifts have taught us to say, I am thankful.
His light has penetrated our hearts to say, I am alive.
His strength gives us confidence to declare, I am safe.
His Spirit allows us to say, I am equipped.
His invitation to serve with him allows us to say, I am valued.
His Son's blood has allowed us to say, I am worthy!

So today let's stand on his faithfulness and declare I am! No doubt you can add to the list of I am's based on God's word and your experience. Go ahead, in the comments below add a few to the list! And if you found this list encouraging why not send it to a friend!

Therefore, since we have been made right in God’s sight by faith, we have peace with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us. Because of our faith, Christ has brought us into this place of undeserved privilege where we now stand, and we confidently and joyfully look forward to sharing God’s glory. Romans 3:1-2

All For Friendship

I went to Serbia to make friends. It may seem an odd goal to have, flying across the world, to engage in friendship. But I hope that's what I did.

Bob Goff says, "Some people will always be skeptical of extravagant love. Give them something to talk about." (If you haven't read his book Love Does, you really should) I could have gone to Serbia to start programs, to preach, to document a situation, but I believe friendship is more powerful than programs any day. 

View from the Seminary we stayed at in Novi Sad.

When I landed in Belgrade on October 18th with my friend Nichole I was prepared with months of prayer, the support of some amazing family and friends, and many weeks of email exchanges with the staff of the mental institution. I had also been in contact in the previous week or two with a few Christians in Novi Sad, and Nichole and I had even found a Theological Seminary to stay at. 

A typical street outside of the city center

While that seemed like plenty of preparation when I got on the plane, it was a completely different story when we got off! I can't say that the Belgrade airport has spent sufficient money on making a first impression to those arriving in their country for the first time. I wonder if they get a lot of international travelers, it was hard to find someone who spoke English, and we felt not like Americans but two headed aliens. In short, as we stood waiting on the sidewalk for the bus to take us the hour and a half to Novi Sad, after some challenging communication about currency exchange, and with Nichole's phone battery drained, the inevitable wave of 'what are we doing here' washed over me.

Is an email exchange with someone in another country, someone I've never actually spoken to, someone who knows we're coming to find out information about their institution that has a not so nice reputation, is that really enough grounds to have bought two very expensive tickets just so we can show up? For a moment I wanted to cry but God reminded me it wasn't just Dom Veternik I was coming to see, it was his glory. For the last few months my prayers for the disabled, warehoused in a mental institution, had changed to prayers for the entire people of Serbia, that they would know God's glory expressed to them in mercy. There was no turning back now.

When we stepped onto the curb outside of the Novi Sad Theological Seminary friendship began. Relief washed over us and gratitude rose up from our hearts. Ladislav Repic, a member of the Seminary staff, met us warmly, and our time at the Seminary was graced with comfort, great conversation, and the bond of Christ. Later in the week we met up with Gordana, I've mentioned her in a previous post, we had been connected on facebook through a mutual friend. We knew God was involved in orchestrating the beautiful connections we had with Novi Sad's Christian community. Everything I've ever written about sisters here on this blog was evident in our meeting with Gordana, and others. I love when Jesus in me resonates with Jesus in another heart, and that certainly happened as we opened our hearts and relished God's grace with Gordana.

A group of young adults with mobility issues

On Friday the moment had come for us to see with our own eyes the truth about Dom Veternik. We were a little nervous because we had heard that the director was concerned about our visit. The MDRI, a human rights group, had released a report the weekend before that was less than favorable in it's description of several institutions, including Dom Veternik, and that had put him on edge. When we arrived we were welcomed warmly and were able to address their concerns and state our true reason for coming; that we wanted to see with our own eyes their needs, and to be friends. Of course that sounds strange when you say it out loud. The inevitable questions, "who sent you, what are your qualifications, who do you represent," are bound to be asked. I'm getting better at answering those questions they've been asked so many times!

Children on the floor for immobile and mentally disabled , they are all over 10 years old

Over the next several days I think, I hope, they came to see our motivation. The staff took us everywhere, not holding back the most troubling sights, answering any question, expressing their needs and hopes. I knew I would come to care for and love the kids, I was surprised by how much I came to care for the staff. We were making friends. Serbia is less than 1% evangelical, most people identify with the Orthodox church, so I knew that expressing our purpose in coming (to express the love of Jesus, the ultimate friend) might sound weird. I'm getting used to sounding weird though. Most cultures can understand the language of friendship I think, compassion, empathy, love. The staff just wanted to be understood. It had hurt them that they have been painted in reports and media coverage as unfeeling and unkind to the residents. It was obvious to us that the men and women who work with the 600 hundred residents of Dom Veternik care a great deal about their well being. It was also obvious that their care is not enough. 

 Painting a poster of peace with a group of disabled children

We saw workers put in straining situations, limited by resources, working hard in some cases just to keep people safe and alive. Three women for almost 50 profoundly disabled immobile children and adults is not enough. Or how about three women for 75 profoundly mentally disabled children, children who can walk, some can talk, get into trouble, hurt themselves and each other, who need hugs and stimulation and therapy. Three women. I can't imagine three women for 75 healthy children, forget about 75 very needy children. The shortage of staff isn't Dom Veternik's fault, the government sets the ratio of workers to patients, and it's not the governments fault, they are struggling to rebuild their country after difficult times and in a challenging economy. It's the nature of life, there are always poor, helpless, and weak people, there are always people trying to help without enough resources. It's a waste of time to look for who's at fault. Better to pitch in and help.

Anna, me, Jana, Nichole, and Marina at Dom Veternik

And that's what I want to do. Because now Zoran and Srdjan, Anna, Marina, Jana, Lubitza, and Dragana are our friends. They work in different roles in the institution, administrating, teaching and caring. Nikola, Borin, Petra, Luca and many others are also our friends, they live in different spaces, with different needs, inside of Dom Veternik. Love doesn't judge, love helps, love finds the good, love sees God's mercy extended to all of his creation and joins in. God is obviously not finished with Serbia and neither am I. These friendships are just the beginning. Now it's time to pray harder, love deeper, and work more! Who's with me?

Srdjan and Nichole shopping for Dom Veternik

I'm working on the next steps and I'm excited about what God is going to do. Nichole and I have lots of ideas! The first thing I need to do is begin a non-profit organization. And to do that I need a name. I want you to help me! What do you think would be a good name for an organization partnering with the disabled of Serbia to help give them hope, dignity and a better life? Give it your best shot and leave your suggestions in the comment section below. If I choose one of your suggestions I'll send you a Starbucks gift card!

Far From Home

I have been "far from home" for a long time. When I started this blog I named it Beck Far From Home for two reasons. The most obvious being that Wyoming, where I lived at the time, was a significant distance from my Georgia roots. 

Living in a land wildly different from what I knew, longing for the familiar, highlighted the second reason for my homesickness. The longing was just a reminder that Home is a deeper truth my heart is searching for. My heart agrees with the psalmist cry, "Lord, through all the generations you have been our home!" (Psalm 10) I live in eager anticipation for the day my body will experience the reality my heart already knows, where Jesus is there is my home.

Lately a new homesickness has surfaced. My heart has taken flight and wanders outside of itself longing to be with those Jesus loves. What could compel a journey far from home to be with a people who are not my own? Only the grand love of the Father. What compels me to walk out the doors of my house into the messy life of a neighbor? Only Jesus grace.

My imagination is being caught up in the wonder of what God has planned for a nation. My heart is captured, becoming a co-conspirator, by his love for a needy little boy just across the street. God's deep desire to reconcile all mankind to himself compels me, and has set a new kind of homesickness in my heart. I have a new awareness of being far from home. I long to be where Jesus is. I hear him calling from an ancient land, from the halls of people institutionalized in their suffering. And he's calling in the voice of a tongue tied preschooler, with speech so broken it makes me wince. "Love sees, love goes, and love is present."

I choose to see the neighbor, the needy foreigner; I choose to move toward them in their pain and loneliness; I choose to sit with them in their need being the ears that listen, the hands that sooth, the shoulder that gives rest. I wonder how much I'm really blessing though because truly I'm the one being blessed. I didn't know it was possible to love a child that isn't your own so fiercely. That surprise can only be due to the years I've spent loving like a legalist and not like a Servant. I choose love only because Love chose me. 

My heart hears it's Love call and leaves home but I'm learning, that in a sense, it's impossible to leave my home because it's always been Jesus.

Five Minute Friday ~ Here

I woke up to Lisa-Jo's Five Minute Friday invitation to write. Just what I needed. So I'm joining in to write on; Here.


Start


Here. Jehovah Shammah. The Lord is Here. He is here, with us, now. With me. Whether I deserve it or not. And I don't. He's here anyway. In spite of all that I am or have done, he's here. With mercies that are fresh and new, he's here bearing gifts.


The Lord is in the here and now of orphans crying and droughts crippling and slaves groaning and wedding celebrations and art created and servants bending gently. 


Here with us all, not put off by messy, entering in. Here in our words and our hearts and our lives. Here far and wide with us all. The question is do we recognize his presence and welcome it. Do I? Mercy greets me every morning, a fresh kiss of kindness, willing to be embraced. Life is in returning that embrace.


Joy blooms in the welcoming of Jehovah Shammah, the Lord is Here. 


Stop


I hope the reminder of Jesus of presence, an offering for every moment, refreshes your heart as much as it does mine!


The faithful love of the Lord never ends!
    His mercies never cease.
²³ Great is his faithfulness;
    his mercies begin afresh each morning.
²⁴ I say to myself, “The Lord is my inheritance;
    therefore, I will hope in him!” Lamentations 3:22-24

Beauty Calls

Sometimes life pounds hard, zips past, and makes demands. Even if it's just the simple routine of work and dishes and bills. And sometimes, really all the time if we're listening, beauty calls out. Her voice isn't demanding though. It's gentle as a mother's, salty as an ocean breeze; full of nuance and flavor, whispering of rest, joy and healing. Beauty is a gift. God's gift, an intimate part of his created order. I wonder if enjoying his gift of beauty is a form of worship, an expression of thanks.

This Sunday, after the work and privilege of worshiping God, our family took time for the work and privilege of enjoying beauty, together. It was hot and we (okay me) snapped once or twice, but it was lovely and satisfying to be together. It's a whole other experience living near water, one that we're discovering the joys of bit by bit. These pictures were all taken in Pensacola, Florida, enjoy.

Our lunch view at The Fish House, best grits EVER!

My sassy southern belle!

I loved the artistry of this charming old church.

A peak inside.

Live oaks! Living poetry in a park.

Live oaks are prone to long limbs that break.
I love their solution to offering the trees support!

My water baby enjoying the splash of a pretty fountain.

Southern architecture delights my senses.
I love the balance and decorum of this house with it's cheery mustard walls.

Beauty makes us better. Where have you seen beauty lately? Won't you share with us how you answer beauty's call?

I hope

I hope this week you find rest like a child, even in the midst of busy days and heavy responsibility. Lean back on the arms of Grace that speak the "I've got you" strength of a father. All the lists in the world can't define you, or the completion of their tasks. Look for a cozy corner and dream like an innocent under dancing dragonflies.

I hope your days drip sunshine and ring with golden laughter. Even if you're in the snowy north. Laughter and joy can be as much of a discipline as contemplation and silence, and certainly just as necessary. May you make space to search for the shimmering moments, and soak them up.

I hope each day your face is set to the dazzling sunshine. I hope you meet it's bold gaze of glory like a warrior and it's brilliance burns it's way into your heart. I hope your feet are set on fire and you run headlong into glory. Knowing it's fire consumes, may you chase the light anyway.

I hope that this week your days are lived out with the knowledge that God's word is a lamp to your feet so that you won't stumble in darkness. That his love is satisfaction richer than any food. May you remember that worship fuels action and silence fuels intimacy. I hope that every opportunity to commune with your Love is taken and moments of thanksgiving are embraced!

Christmas Blessing

 Merry Christmas to you my dear family, friends, and cyber sisters!

 As you celebrate the Father's love may you rest on the assurance of his faithfulness.

May joy permeate the corners of your soul, filling your conversation, and quiet moments.

 May the wonder of the incarnation fill you with humble gratitude.

 May peace blanket your days and nights with the reassurance of God's presence.

And may the glorious song of love that rang out over Bethlehem hills so many years ago ring clear across your heart! Good news, your God loves you, he is with you, redeeming you. All at a cost to himself. What kind of love is this?! Wonder, ponder, reflect on such a gift. Love for love's sake!

May your Christmas be a time of worship and your New Year seasoned with undeserved grace!

Advent - a season of JOY

This week we light the forth advent candle. These candles help us to remember the hope, peace, love, and joy found in God that were proclaimed through Jesus' birth. These weeks leading up to Christmas Day are a great time for reflecting on the first coming of the Messiah and our hopeful expectation of His return.

The shepherds in Bethlehem experienced great joy when the Angel announced, “I bring you good news of great joy for everyone! The Savior – yes, the Messiah, the Lord – has been born tonight in Bethlehem, the city of David,” Luke 2:10-11. After they had gone to see this small Savior Luke 2:20 says, “the shepherds went back to their fields and flocks, glorifying and praising God for what the angels had told them, and because they had seen the child, just as the angel had said.”

Like the shepherds, joy naturally flows out of our hearts when we encounter the saving power of Jesus in our own lives. As we stand in wonder of what we once were and what we are in him today, we have reason to rejoice! Once we were lost and now we're found, once an enemy and now a friend, once brokenhearted and now made whole. And the promise of Jesus' coming again gives us reason to live in expectant joy!

May we make time to joyfully celebrate the gift of Jesus and share the wonderful news with those around us.

Five Minute Friday: Joy

I find myself running up to the edge of obsession over home and eternity. Death is all around. Portals into the unseen punctuate the landscape of this tattered world. I crane my neck to peer in, hungry to glimpse the promised satisfaction I long for. Today Lisa-Jo is honoring a blogging sister on her way home to Jesus. Her Five Minute Friday girls are writing today on Joy.

Go.

Joy is in the meeting. The never enough of me, meeting the more than enough of Him. I stand amidst the careless words that slip from my tongue, the dirty dishes, the mess of anger, the want of home, the lack of kindness, the longing for beauty, the bone ache of world weary.

I am so not enough. This world is so not enough.

I lift my eyes from the mess I stand in. Eyes up. In comes joy. I catch the look of His unsullied delight. And the not enough ache melts.

"Who me," I feel my heart say. Looking over shoulder, there must be another. Can you imagine a grin that would break your heart?

A glimpse of that one smile, it's what I long for, it haunts me. I've never seen it with my eyes, oh but I've felt it with my heart.

The smile that broke out over all creation. Joyful voice ringing victorious delight, "It is good!" That same smile washes over me.

Filtering through the cracks of my messy need. Filling up my not enough. For just a moment I believe and sigh out the hurt and breath in His joy. And then the dance begins again.

Stop

You satisfy me more than the richest feast. I will praise you with songs of joy. Psalm 63:5

I hope your day is filled with joy you don't deserve, that rushes in where you need it most and expect it least, that drowns out the sorrow of your weakness and lifts your eyes to Jesus' sweet face!

Obedience = Joy

Edited and Re-posted from March 2010:

Joy: the emotion evoked by well-being, success or good fortune or by the prospect of possessing what one desires: Delight. (Websters)

God has taught me so much about obedience, his will and joy. I'm learning how linked they are. Two passages highlight this truth well, Leviticus 9:22-24 and Hebrews 12:2. Both deal with pleasing sacrifices to God, first in the old testament Tabernacle and then on the cross. 

Leviticus 9:22-24, “Then Aaron lifted his hands toward the people and blessed them. And having sacrificed the sin offering, the burnt offering and the fellowship offering, he stepped down. Moses and Aaron then went into the Tent of Meeting. When they came out, they blessed the people; and the glory of the LORD appeared to all the people. Fire came out from the presence of the LORD and consumed the burnt offering and the fat portions on the altar. And when all the people saw it, they shouted for joy and fell facedown.” 

Leviticus shows Israel's obedience in every way to God's command to build him a dwelling, and the joy his favor ignited as a result of their obedience. God's favorable response to our obedience is his presence and his presence always results in joy. We find joy when our hearts love the will of God. We rejoice when we see his plan unfold, because our hearts are in line with his; loving truth, righteousness, his glory.

So often, however, we choose our own way and exchange joy for sorrow. If we seek joy and wonder why it alludes us, it's wise to examine our obedience. Nothing kills joy like living for our own pleasure. On the surface we may not see our own pleasure as the evil it is. Sometimes it's disguised in self-righteousness or accomplishing things for God, but the motivation is the key. Is what I'm doing for God's glory or mine. Sorrow is always meant to drive us into the heart of the Father. The lack of joy is a warning sign to get our attention. Yet even sorrow can turn to joy in his hands. Here are some more verses on joy: Psalm 16:10-11, 19:7-9; Prov 10:28, John 15:10-12; Jude 1:24

Hebrews 12:2, says, "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." 

I had originally thought the joy set before Jesus in enduring the cross was the salvation of men. Salvation has been the Father's plan from the beginning, certainly Jesus came to earth to rescue the lost. But was Jesus fixing his eyes on us as "the prize" while on the cross? I'm not so sure, because man is never the focus, God's glory always is. I believe Jesus was fixing his eyes squarely on his Father, it's the way he could endure the sacrifice and likewise the only way we can. Love for us flowed out of Jesus death, but love for the Father was the source. Obedience brought him joy. The distinction is important because it sets the example for us. It shows us God is the priority, even the salvation of man isn't really about man, it's about God's glory. It also shows us the right reason for obedience is not for reward, it is a response of adoration. Nothing short of delighting in the Father's will can compel us to die to our own desires and live for his. Oh God, that our hearts would beat in tune to your will, delighting in obedience!

These are big thoughts, deeper than my mind could ever plumb. What do you think? 

Glory kind of day

Friday morning started in wonder. I woke before my alarm and went early to be with Jesus. The world was softened by a blanket of mist, I was enchanted.

In a few hours the sun evaporated the clinging vapor and beauty changed faces. My family, along with our friends Mike and Terry, reveled in the freedom to enjoy. First we went to Magee Marsh for a little bird watching and nature soaking. Unable to capture tiny warblers flitting from tree to tree, I did enjoy photographing a variety of nature's other beauties. I loved watching Maggie and especially Max's enjoyment.

Finally we ended our day with a visit to Lakeside, a place of charm, beauty and tranquility. Our friends have vacationed at the quaint summer resort for decades. We walked by the water, enjoyed streets lined with lovely houses and ate delicious pizza.

After a treat of ice cream we began our drive home, my heart was full and content. And then just one more display of beauty.

  Praise the LORD, my soul.

   LORD my God, you are very great;
   you are clothed with splendor and majesty. 

He made the moon to mark the seasons,
   and the sun knows when to go down. 

 How many are your works, LORD!
   In wisdom you made them all;
   the earth is full of your creatures. 

Psalm 104:1,19,24

Creativity

Recently my son, Max, was reading aloud from his new Bible in the book of Genesis. He read the familiar words from Genesis 1, "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and empty, and darkness covered the deep waters. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters. Then God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. And God saw that the light was good." Further on he read, "So God created human beings in his own image. In the image of God he created them; male and female he created them." My ears perked up, heart resonating and I begin to think.

For the last several days my three year old daughter, Maggie, has been almost obsessively creating. Painting, coloring, play-doh she can't get enough. Interestingly I've been overflowing with creativity myself. Every moment a picture to be captured, I go everywhere with my camera. Words tumble out of me and I write constantly. My book is slowly taking shape. I even feel like cooking something tasty and beautiful tonight (this is a big deal because in general I hate to cook).

I pondered what Max had read and I felt my eyes opening. Nature is awash with color all around me drenching my senses; goldfinches, lilac blooms, emerald grass. Bird songs fill the air, laughter, music it all surrounds me and testifies of a God that's not boring. But even more remarkable, he invites us to join him. He's not done creating, we're a part of the work. Flowing from God's heart of grace is the invitation to embrace our likeness to him. We create because God does, what a privilege to express gratitude and joy through creativity. It is good when we live like the image bearers we are, joyful, exuberant, colorful, whimsical; all flowing from hearts of gratitude.

What creative outlet excites you? How do you join in the celebration of creation, I'd love to know?

Joy

In March I wrote about what I was learning regarding obedience and joy in this post.
Last night I was reading a book I've been enjoying by Oswald Chambers, The Love of God. In a section called The Ministry of the Unnoticed he writes on following Jesus example. I was so excited because he puts so much more eloquently what I was trying to express in the ramblings of my previous post.

Chambers writes, ""These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full" (John 15:11). If Jesus Christ is the life of God and we have to follow Him, we must find out what His joy was. It certainly was not happiness. The joy of the Lord Jesus Christ lay in doing exactly what He came to do. He did not come to save men first of all, He came to do His Father's will. The saving of men was the natural outcome of this, but our Lord's one great obedience was not to the needs of men but to the will of His Father, and He says, "As my Father sent me even so send I you." We are never told to consecrate our gifts to God, but we are told to dedicate ourselves. The joy of anything, from a blade of grass upward, is to fulfill its created purpose "that we should be to the praise of his glory" (Ephesians 1:12). We are not here to win souls, to do good to others. That is the natural outcome but it is not our aim, and this is where so many of us cease to be followers. We will follow God as long as He makes us a blessing to others, but when He does not, we will not follow. Suppose our Lord had measured His life by whether or not He was a blessing to others. Why, He was a "stone of stumbling" to thousands, actually to His own neighbors, to His own nation, because through Him they blasphemed the Holy Spirit, and in His own country "He did not many mighty works there because of their unbelief" (Matthew 13:58). If our Lord had measured His life by its actual results, He would have been full of misery. We get switched off when instead of following God we follow Christian work and workers. We are much more concerned over the passion for souls than the passion for Christ. The passions for Christ is the counterpart of His passion for God. The life of God is manifested in our Lord Jesus Christ. He came to do His Father's will; then when we are following Him, it will be a matter of indifference whether God puts us in the forefront or in the back seat. When we realize this, then the joy of the Lord is ours because we are fulfilling our regenerated purpose. The passion for souls is not a New Testament idea at all, but religious commercialism. When we are taken up with this passion, the joy of the Lord is never ours but only an excitable joy which always leaves a snare behind. God engineers our circumstances as He did those of His Son; all we have to do is to follow where He places us. The majority of us are busy trying to place ourselves. God alters things while we wait for Him. Are we fulfilling the purpose of our recreation, namely, to glorify God? The sign that we are glorifying God is not that we are happy: happiness is childish, individual and pagan. It is natural for a child to be happy because a child does not face facts, but a Christian who is merely happy is blind. The way God's life manifests itself in joy is in a peace which has no desire for praise... That is the joy of the life of God; it is uncrushable life, and there is never life without joy."

Obedience=Joy

Joy: the emotion evoked by well-being, success or good fortune or by the prospect of possessing what one desires: Delight. (Websters)

This month God has taught me so much about obedience, his will and joy. I hadn't realized previously how completely linked they are. In studying joy and the Father's will recently he took me to two different passages Leviticus 9:22-24 and Hebrews 12:2. Both dealing with pleasing sacrifices to God first in the old testament Tabernacle and then on the cross.

Leviticus 9:22-24, “Then Aaron lifted his hands toward the people and blessed them. And having sacrificed the sin offering, the burnt offering and the fellowship offering, he stepped down.

Moses and Aaron then went into the Tent of Meeting. When they came out, they blessed the people; and the glory of the LORD appeared to all the people. Fire came out from the presence of the LORD and consumed the burnt offering and the fat portions on the altar. And when all the people saw it, they shouted for joy and fell facedown.”

There is no other place to find joy than in God’s glory and satisfaction. The above passage shows how Israel obeyed in every way God's command to build him a dwelling, for the purpose of communion, and the joy his favor ignited as a result of their obedience. Joy is always the result of God's favorable response to our obedience. We find joy when our hearts love the will of God. We rejoice when we see his plan unfold, because our hearts are in line with his; loving truth, righteousness, his glory. It appears God's greatest response to our obedience is his presence, which is the cause of true joy; even sorrow turns to joy in his hands.

So often, however, we choose our own way and exchange joy for sorrow. If we seek joy and wonder why it alludes us, it's wise to examine our obedience, nothing kills joy like living for our own pleasure. (On the surface we may not see our own pleasure as the evil it is, sometimes it's disguised in self-righteousness, fairness, accomplishing things for God but the motivation is the key, is it for God's glory or mine.) Sorrow is always meant to drive us into the heart of the Father. The lack of joy is a warning sign to get our attention. Here are some more verses on joy: Psalm 16:10-11, 19:7-9; Prov 10:28, John 15:10-12; Jude 1:24

Hebrews 12:2, says, "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." I had originally thought that the joy set before Jesus in enduring the cross was the salvation of men, but I don't think that anymore. I believe the salvation of men has always been the Father's plan and I believe Jesus came to earth to do the Father's will. However, I honestly don't think Jesus was fixing his eyes on us as the prize while on the cross and I'm glad, because man is never the focus. I believe he was fixing his eyes squarely on his Father, it's the only way he could endure the sacrifice and likewise the only way we can. I believe love for us flowed out of that, but love for the Father was the source. I think the distinction is important because it sets the example for us. First of all it shows us God is the priority, even the salvation of man isn't really about man, it's about God's glory. Second it shows us the right reason for obedience is not for reward but is a response of adoration. Nothing short of delighting in the Father's will can compel us to die to our own desires and live for his. Oh God, that our hearts would beat in tune to your will.