Un-surprised by Evil

Kermit Gosnell is you, and he's me; without the grace of Jesus active in our lives that is. I came to terms a long time ago that I was born with the cancer of evil pumping through my heart. Evil that I know could take me to dark places.

In our culture we tirade against evil and immoral people. My question is, why? Are we really surprised by sin and the media's inability to cover it accurately or well, or the governments ability to address it effectively? What I really want to know is are we moved enough to go places where people are ignorant, poor, desperate, trapped and meet the need? Are we willing to walk into darkness?

Is there a reason we think evil is going to give up the fight, roll over, and play dead? Why are we outraged when people act exactly as the Bible tells us they will without the illumination of truth? Why do we judge those who are already judged.

Of course what Gosnell and many, many others has done is disgusting and outrageous. But I don't see anywhere that Jesus was outraged by people, except by religious dead men carrying out a show, hording mercy for only those deemed worthy in their own minds.

What happened to the women and children at Gosnell's hands is gut-wrenching. But is it so different than what has happened for years to thousands of babies and women? Just because there is documentation of perfectly formed, breathing babies that died in his clinic does it make the legal death of a 15 week old pre-born baby less messy or heartbreaking?

Can there really be shades of death? Sin is sin, death is death. (Tweet This)

I wonder if our surprise over evil speaks of insulation. Let's don't insulate ourselves from the heartbreak and evil of this world. Babies die daily by the hundreds at the hands of violent men. Outside of our homes lies the carnage of sin, sometimes right at our very doorstep.

It's hard, I know, at moments to look. To truly see the socially awkward woman who was once a badly abused child. To witness the starvation of whole people groups. To know of children who suffer a life of not belonging. To look full faced into the eyes of a dying world. So very hard.

But let's go on and assume that today in our town a desperate woman will walk into a clinic and suffer violence to the very core of her motherhood and body, and in the process become an accomplice to death. Let's assume the worst around us. And then lets get involved.

Why not be the nosy neighbor, the concerned friend, the voice of truth, the one who goes into dark places for a rescue mission? I wonder about those babies and women who lost their lives at Gosnell's hands. What if? What if a church patrolled the area looking for victims to rescue, would they have died?

Of course we can't prevent every death, every wound, every violence. The question is, do we try? I'm asking myself. And I'm asking you. I wonder, where is the wound in my community? How can I be the one that Jesus uses today to run a raid on the enemy camp and bring the captive home?

I don't want to be surprised when the evil of my community, of my world, raises it's head. I want to already have been there, looking for the vulnerable to rescue from it's grip. Perhaps those are noble and idealistic dreams but I've always been a crusader I don't intend on stopping now.

How do you respond to the evil of the world, of your community? I'd love to hear about what you are doing to reach out to the broken around you! Inspire us!

Trusting As I Go

And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him. Hebrews 11:6

As I spend these last few days before our trip to Serbia I find myself in a flurry of activity and emotion. Nichole and I leave in 8 days! I've started a few blog posts but they've gone unfinished. I'm unable to find adequate words to express what I'm feeling and what God is teaching.

I'm distracted and busy, focused on educating children, navigating church life well, and thinking through the details of foreign travel. I wish I could take out my heart and up end it on the page, dumping out it's contents like so much clutter and sort through the mess, like I do when my purse gets too full. But I don't really know where to start.

I wish I could write eloquently about faith and the mind boggling truths I'm learning. The truth of Hebrews that makes me question if chapter 11 is really meant to be a hall of fame or if it's mean to be a pattern for all believers to live by. If faith that clings to promises, stares down kings and lions, recons this life worthless compared to the next, and strikes out in search of God's glory and goodness isn't meant to be the norm instead of the exception.

I want to write about anticipation that is holy and hushed as I get ready for the most awesome journey of my life. But instead I'm a frazzled mama who realizes saying goodbye to dear ones at home is going to be harder than she realized. I'd like to say I feel fearless, ready to strike out boldly, but all of a sudden I remember how much I truly loath flying. I guess going in obedience doesn't have to be pretty and perfect, I just have to go and trust that in the going God will make something beautiful of it all. Honestly I doubt a lesser reason than seeing these broken ones would compel me to fly over the ocean, crammed into a metal tube for hours. Just the thought of it turns my insides squiggly.

I imagine Jesus didn't relish the pain of the cross, Moses didn't always enjoy the tedious leading of a rebellious people, Joseph didn't find pleasure in false accusations. The point is they loved something, someone, more than their own comfort. All be it brokenly and haltingly I'm learning to as well.


I love that Exodus and Hebrews tell us that when Moses had intimate faith to ask to see God's glory, God responded. He responded not by revealing his creative power, or judgement, or holy fire. God revealed his mercy. I'm taking that to heart and as I go I'm asking to see God's glory. Moses' example teaches me to ask for God's glory too, he is always eager to display his mercy and for his children to follow suit and show mercy too.

So I leave in 8 days, trusting in the promises that God's mercy is new every morning, that he gives power to his children to love the brokenhearted, that God draws near to all who seek him. I would love your prayers as I say goodbye at home and set out for the unknown. God has so faithfully provided materially for this trip, now I'm trusting him to provide his very presence for the journey.

What promise of God's do you believe that changes the way you live?

The Key to Blessing ~ Obedience

"This is what the Lord says: Because you have obeyed me and have not withheld even your son, your only son, I swear by my own name that I will certainly bless you. I will multiply your descendants beyond number, like the stars in the sky and the sand on the seashore. Your descendants will conquer the cities of their enemies. And through your descendants all the nations of the earth will be blessed—all because you have obeyed me." Genesis 22:16-18

I read this passage recently and was sobered. I'm afraid so often we take Jesus as an add on in our lives, I've certainly seen it happen in faith communities and on occasion in my own life. But God will have none of that. He's all or nothing. He goes for the heart, he doesn't mess around. 

God demands first place in our affections, our thoughts, our imagination. And he should. Nothing in our life is safe from the altar. But look what happens at obedience. Blessing rained down. And not temporal worldly blessing either, which we are so easily distracted by. No, it's an eternal, sweeping, generational blessing. 

I don't know about you but I want the fruit of my life to multiply "beyond number" I want to conquer the enemy and be a blessing to the nations. All because I've obeyed. 

Do you see the connection here between personal obedience and communal blessing. It's humbling and inspiring. When I obey, God blesses me so that you, my family, my church, my neighbors, Serbia can be blessed. When you obey, God blesses you so that your family, church, and community can be blessed. Amazing!

What would have happened had Abraham turned down God's request of complete faithfulness and obedience? I mean who would have blamed him if he had said, 'you know God when you asked me to leave home I followed, when you asked me to trust you to provide a son I did, I've obeyed you. But now you're taking things too far. We all know killing is wrong and this is my son, so don't even think about it.'

If Abraham had declined to obey, God would have let him. But then we wouldn't consider Abraham the father of the Jewish people or a hero of faith. God would have raised someone else up to bless and be a blessing, he always accomplishes his plan. But Abraham would have missed out.

What about us. Will we decline to obey? Or will we allow obedience to unlock blessing in our own lives and the lives of those around us, even into future generations. I've found the longer I trust Jesus the crazier his requests for obedience seem to become.

How did Abraham obey such an outlandish request from God? How can we? It was by faith that Abraham offered Isaac as a sacrifice when God was testing him. Abraham, who had received God’s promises... reasoned that if Isaac died, God was able to bring him back to life again. And in a sense, Abraham did receive his son back from the dead. (Hebrews 11)

Our obedience rests firmly on the foundation of God's faithfulness to his promises. Do you believe God is faithful, are you willing to find out?

When Serbia Calls Your Name

A package came in the mail yesterday. It held the exciting promise of travel to Serbia. My passport! I've been itching to post an update but it hasn't been time, until now.

I'm excited to say that God is continuing to unfold his plans to show compassion to his dear ones in Veternik, Serbia's mental institution. I want to invite you to partner with me. Won't you lean in close and see Jesus in the midst of the broken?

I'm thrilled to tell you that I'm at the make it happen stage of this trip and it's time for action. As I said before, I have my passport. I also have my travel companion.  I haven't gotten permission from her to share her name publicly yet, so I'll have to tell you that later. But I can say that I see God's finger prints all over this partnership. We've been friends for many years and I'm thrilled to share this experience with her. I believe we complement each other well and her gifts will be excellent for this trip. Her experience working with disabled children weekly in her job will be invaluable.

We will travel sometime in October and stay for up to two weeks. During our time at Dom Veternik we will meet with the staff to discuss their needs and how we can help. We anticipate touring their facility and spending time with the disabled children and adults residing there. I'm also praying for good opportunities to make contact with other Christians in the area who would be willing to partner with us long term.

When we arrive at the institution my desire is for us to not show up empty handed. Ultimately this trip, and any future ministry, is about showing Jesus' great love for them personally. I believe the best way to do this is to represent him well by showing joy, affection, humility, hope, kindness, and generosity. One of the ways to do this is by helping them with the needs they are facing. Serbia is a country still recovering from war not too many years past. The lack of resources affects the vulnerable of their society most.

Material Needs:

I asked a staff member for a list of things they are in need of. Here are some of the items they listed:

Hygiene products; toothpaste, tooth brushes, deodorant, soap, shampoo, diapers, etc.
Linens; sheets and towels
Clothes and shoes of various sizes
Non-English Educational materials; educational toys such as puzzles or blocks, paper, pencils, craft supplies

If your church or family is interested in putting together a box of some of these items to send to the institution please let me know and I can provide further details for you.

What you can do:

If God has laid it on your heart to respond to these needs there are a few ways you can do that.

* You can pray. 
Pray that God would prepare hearts to hear his message of grace and receive his love, both the staff and residents.
Pray that he would empower us as we go to show that love.
Pray that he will provide for every detail as we travel and for our families still at home.

* Send a box. As mentioned above you can help provide material resources for this institution, a tangible expression of love to the staff and residents alike.

* You can give. If you feel God leading you to contribute financially to this trip you can give through the chip in box on the side bar of this blog or if you prefer you can contact me and send a check personally. Expenses include airfare, accommodation and food, an interpreter, and travel in country.

* Spread the word. You can share this post with others that you feel would be blessed by hearing what God is doing in Serbia or would like to join in by praying and supporting.

Thank you friends for your encouragement and prayers as we prepare to walk by faith and respond to God's call to care for the helpless!

It excites me that God invites us to participate in the reconciling of the world to himself. You may not be heading to Serbia any time soon but you can certainly display the mercy of Jesus to those hungry for his love in your community. I pray that he will give us all eyes to see and hearts to respond.

{We are no longer planning on sending boxes of supplies to Serbia. Due to the high cost of shipping and customs it is more cost effective to buy supplies in the country. If you are interested in contributing to the purchase of supplies for the residents of Dom Veternik you can contribute through the Chip In account, or contact me about sending a check. Make sure to note the purpose of your contribution.}

Freedom's Cry

I wanted to share with you a short story I recently submitted to a writing contest at The Write Practice. The prompt was "America Is." Instead of a typical piece on fireworks and apple pie, I took another angle.


It's a hard story to read. It was hard to write. The story is fiction but it is based on research I have done on human trafficking in India. Girls, such as the one depicted in my story, are real. The greatest gift we can give them is to look full faced at their suffering and not turn away. To allow their need and our compassion to compel us to action. 

Nazeeya sat on her little cot looking at a patch of sky through the small window high above her head. It had been days since she had seen the whole expanse of that blue or smelled fresh air. It had been days since she had seen anything, except the walls of her prison, and men.

She imagined her younger sisters, her mother, her father all sitting under the same blue sky. Did they looking up as they tended the garden in their little village and think of her too? The ache in her chest grew tight, almost too tight to breathe, as she remembered the last day she had seen them.

Her father had brought a strange man to the house. He was at least twice Nazeeya's 15 years. A cold chill had shivered down her spine as he was introduced as her prospective husband. His name was Abhijay. “He will offer a home to you,” her father had said. “You know we have little to feed you with. Women in his village are scarce and he needs a wife.”

Her parents had little choice, and she knew it. There was no reason to argue. Had they known her fate they may have been less willing to part with her, even for the modest payment. Abhijay had taken her hundreds of miles away to a village in the province of Delhi. But a marriage had never taken place. She had lived with him as a wife for several weeks and then he had sold her
at a profit.

The new man had not bought her to be his wife either. She was taken to the outskirts of New Delhi and given into the custody of Avani. The old woman had charge of a house full of girls. They rarely saw one another but she could guess their stories. They were poor, with little hope, and now even less.

She pulled her blue sari around her and swatted away flies. Dressed in azure from head to toe she was the only bright spot in the drab, dirty room. The greyness had crept into her soul until she felt nothing. Except perhaps the faintest glimmer of irrational hope.

Reaching under the thin mattress of her cot she pulled out a magazine. Written in English she understood none of the articles or advertisements. She did understand the pictures. Images of well dressed, well fed people smiled at her. Pretty houses and pretty things, bright colors and unfamiliar landscapes spoke to her of beauty and wonder.

One page in particular captured her attention; a man in a uniform, his arm around a woman, children by their side. There were pictures of him getting off of a plane surrounded by his family all holding little flags. A picture of him
playing with a dog in front of a nice house, the same flag hanging from a pole. Red, white, and blue. She knew what that meant. America.

It was her one hope. Even more than returning home she longed for a new life in America. There was nothing for her here. If she went home would she be sold again? Her parents couldn't afford a dowry, or to keep her, which is why they had sold her in the first place.

She tore out the picture of the family standing happily together, flag waving proudly in the background. Folding it carefully into a square she tucked it into her dress beside her heart. Quickly she slid the magazine back to it's hiding
place. She never knew when the key would grate in the lock or who
would enter.

Several hours later Nazeeya was awoken by Avani storming into the room. Yelling at her. Hitting her with a heavy stick. She makes out from the woman's shrill screams that she has committed the ultimate sin. She's become pregnant. Apparently a customer has complained about her condition. Angry at the inconvenience and loss of income the old woman takes her anger out on Nazeeya's thin, already bruised body.

It's dusk and Avani's blows drive Nazeeya from the room and into the courtyard where the man waits for her in an dirty black jeep. The old woman throws her into the back and shuts the door. Huddling in the floor Nazeeya glances up at the strong back and bald head of her owner. Trembling she rides in silence as the houses slip away and fields flash by in the twilight.

She knows she will never make it to the land of promise as he roughly drags her from the backseat into the empty field. Fumbling for the page tucked into her clothes as she's dragged along, she reaches for hope even now. Her eyes fall on the smiling faces and bright flag as the man shoves her to the ground, planting her face in the dirt with his boot.

Nazeeya's heart races to the sound of steel as he unsheathes his Gurkha knife. Freedom comes in many forms. She closes her eyes against the harsh world. With a whoosh of his blade her red blood stains the brilliant blue of her sari and splatters her crumpled hope.

***
Freedom shouldn't be a commodity we posses but a way in which we live. I think it's important, and a gift, to use our freedom for the good of others. If you're interested in responding to the need, here is a website that sells jewelry made by young women rescued from the horrors of human trafficking, offering them dignity and hope, setting them free. http://www.isanctuary.org/home

The Real Deal

I'm not Ann Voskamp, or one of a dozen other amazing authors, I'm not sure if that fact dismays or delights me. It's been on my mind lately and I've been wrestling it into submission. 

Two different blog posts on friend's sites recently prompted these responses from me.

Why do I write? Does the world really need another novel, another blog post, another e-book. Yes and no. The entire world may not need to hear what we need to say, but our sphere of influence does. Words of hope, words of healing, words of wisdom or challenge, words of joy, of meaning, of beauty, they are our gift to the hearts of those around us. Loved ones and strangers alike. Our hearts long to connect and words allow us to do just that. 

and 

I've been pondering lately, how I can be the best me, who honors God, if I'm worried about being someone else?

Are you being the best you possible? Do you wonder if what you do matters?  I say it does. One of my favorite quotes is from Jim Elliot, “Father, make of me a crisis man. Bring those I contact to decision. Let me not be a milepost on a single road; make me a fork, that men must turn one way or another on facing Christ in me.” 

It may be that my words and actions, led by Jesus, impact one person or one hundred. But that's up to God. He can use whomever he wants however he wants. Our responsibility isn't the size of the audience, the budget, the talent, ours is the responsibility of submission and obedience.

"For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do," Ephesians 2:10. Don't offer the world a copy of someone else, offer the gift of you, uniquely created to honor God, pointing others to the truth of Christ. 

I want to hear your story. What dreams has God given you, what are you gifted for, what are you offering to others?

The Gift of Right Expectation

Yesterday I wrote about not being enough. Not enough to satisfy other people, or accomplish anything on my own really. Only Jesus is enough to satisfy and to overcome our weaknesses. 

Today I'm wondering, do we allow Jesus to be enough for others as well? Grace let's others off the hook. It is a right expectation that they can never be enough to satisfy or fulfill us. Grace says, your weaknesses are covered by Jesus' righteousness. Grace has orderly expectations of God and of people. 

I'm not saying we don't hold other Christ followers accountable to a righteous life. And I'm not saying that we don't desire those living in sin to be reconciled to God.

I'm saying we live out our relationships with others, even the hard parts of confrontation and restoration, with a heart remembering that we ourselves are not enough. Expecting others to be enough to get it right all the time, please God in their own strength, and never disappoint us, is unwise and unkind. 

I think that may be what God meant when he inspired Proverbs 16:18. "Pride goes before destruction,  a haughty spirit before a fall." He hates it when his children, whom he saved when they couldn't save themselves, forget their humble beginnings and deal harshly with others. When we expect others to be enough we're saying we can be perfect ourselves, which is a lie, and God opposes that lie in our lives for our own liberation.

I have to confess, I have struggled for years with this. But God has faithfully been stripping away spiritual pride. Of course I'm disappointed when leaders don't lead, peers stumble, those who should know better don't. But the reason I'm disappointed has changed. Instead of being offended by the short comings of others, it's my love for Jesus' bride that desires the health and well being of it's members.

I've lived too long with the proverbial plank in my eye, running around pointing out others specks, their not enoughness. But I don't think the size of the sin is the issue in that teaching, I think the ownership is. Our own issues should be foremost in our lives, our sin, our obedience is our primary responsibility. It's not that we aren't supposed to assist others with their own speck. It's that we need to deal with our junk, recognize in humility the that we have junk, and remember it's a privilege to assist others with their messiness.

Not an easy task, to admit we are not enough and allow others that same freedom. But what a liberating way to live; our eyes on Jesus, trusting his righteousness for us all. Our devotion in prayer for the church body and our families, our gift of forgiveness, our hopeful expectation, are all evidence of faith in the One who is enough for us all.

Ephesians 5:1-2, "Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God."

Is it harder for you to accept weakness in yourself or in another? Ask God to help you extend life giving grace today.

The Work of Preparation

There are desires, big and small, that lay deep in my heart at various stages of fulfillment. A published book, relief for orphans, holiness, a thriving garden, discipled children, a well ordered home, knowledge of the Word, healthy relationships, all are works in progress.

Rarely are the deepest desires of our heart's granted in one moment without participation on our part for their fulfillment. One of the things the items in my list all have in common is preparation. Certainly God accomplishes the good in our lives, but he invites us to participate.

It's tempting to long for the dreams of our heart right NOW! But more often than not the ministry, book, degree, career, education, health, understanding, godly children, etc. that we desire are works in progress, demanding preparation and devotion.

I find it tempting at times, when something has taken longer than I can bear, to quit and move on to a new task, leaving things unfinished. But that's not God's desire for us, or satisfying. Galatians 6:9 "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."

What desire has God given to you that you are in the preparation stages of? How do you remain faithful, preparing for a good harvest?

Linking up with The Grace Cafe:

Hope

It's a little scary when God begins to do a new thing. That's where I find myself at the moment, scared of what he may ask, afraid of my own weakness. But there's also hope. The burden for orphaned children in Eastern Europe is not one that God has given Chris, which is okay because God has given Chris his own burdens and tasks, he's given it to me. I pray, and believe, that one day we will adopt. But I've begun asking myself lately if perhaps there's more. What if God has more in mind? What if instead, I'm supposed to go to them? The living conditions of "orphans" and disabled adults in Serbia is appalling. Sadly only a very tiny percent of them are available for adoption. Many will live out their lives confined to a crib in orphanages more like prisons than homes. What if instead of working to bring them here I go there? What if?

How? I ask myself how in the world is an average mommy, who's afraid of flying and loves her comfort, able to make a difference? How does God use people as ordinary as me? The answer is in learning to trust it's God's heart for the broken that moves people to action, it's God's goodness that provides resources, it's God's power that enables small people to join in his big jobs. So I'm straining to hear his voice. Is it calling me? Am I understanding what he's saying? 

In obedience and trust I know I will find the answer. I'm learning God doesn't ask me to overcome obstacles on my own. He's just asking me to obey. One step at a time, following him. He knows the need, he knows the plan. I'm also counting on the obedience of others in the long run, on God moving hearts to action, because together we can be the hands and feet of Jesus, the whole body moving as one. I'd rather plug my ears and say, "I can't hear you". But I've learned that to disobey silences God's voice quicker than anything and I don't want to live like that. So I'm committing to obey, whatever that looks like.

Prayer is the first and most important work of the church. No activity should begin without it. So, the work I'm engaged in for orphans at the moment is prayer. I chose to look full faced into their pain and suffering, to gently speak their unknown names to Jesus, remind him of his little ones, and grieve. Asking on their behalf. I'm praying for Godless countries to be open to Christians caring for the needs of their broken and outcast. Praying for leader's hearts to turn to God in need, for help and forgiveness. Praying for the church to rise up from our comfort and search out the desperate, choosing to love like Jesus even when it costs. I'm praying bold prayers, tearful prayers, constant prayers. I'm starting to think I even pray in my sleep, haunted by hungry little faces needing to hear just once that Jesus loves the little children and has a place for them in his kingdom.

As I pray I'm expecting that God will answer. I'm expecting my heart to change from a hard stone to a beating reflection of God's love. Praying scripture is the best way I know to line my heart up with the Father's. Prayer for believers to be united in the common purpose of love joins my words with God's will (John 14). Prayer for the rescue of the oppressed (Psalm 10), prayer for God's glory to be displayed to the nations (Psalm 102), prayer for my heart to love mercy (Micah 6), all can be found in his word. As I pray I expect him to answer. If I ask but don't believe I've already called God a liar; I'm expecting.

I ask myself questions a lot lately. What if hedging my bets and saving for the future isn't God's best? What if every resource is meant to be spent in love for others, for God's glory? After all, everything I have comes from him anyway. Am I writing a legacy of faith and love for my children with my life and not just my words? Does my life show that I believe God's word, that the last shall be first, the least is really the greatest? Big questions. But I have hope, because God has always been faithful, because he's more generous than I can imagine, because his love is compelling and I want more. What if the best way to be filled up with incomprehensible love is to pour out the love we've already received?

I'm asking myself if I'm willing to touch absolute brokenness with my own hands for Jesus' sake? Today let's ask God how he want's to use us, to help us obey, to give us a burden for prayer, to increase our expectation in his faithfulness!

{If you would like to see a brief video of the conditions in Serbian institutions that have compelled me to ask these questions you can watch here. It is an edited version of a much more detailed documentary by Ann Curry. WARNING: This is a graphic video with disturbing images. I wasn't able to bring myself to see it for weeks.}

Some thoughts...

I hope your Christmas celebration has been restful and satisfying. Our time during this holiday break has been sweetly spent as a family. I've enjoyed my children and the quiet times we've shared. We've appreciated having Chris home, eating yummy food, snuggling down during rainy weather. 


Now in the last couple of days as Chris has gone back to work, and we're telling the Christmas season goodbye, the weather has changed. The sun has come out and warmed us, waking us from our quiet cocoon. Yesterday was spent in the sand and water of the bay, what a treat. Today was spent at the park and library and later making fresh squeezed lemonade, from local lemons.


In this new season of our lives I'm constantly turning my ear to catch traces of the Father's voice leading. I find the need to reflect and quiet my heart, heal from old wounds, catch a fresh vision. Interestingly it seems that quiet time is being enforced by my Parent, to some degree. 


I struggle to let loose the voice I was carving out in blog land, connections I've enjoyed making, lessons learned. It's antithetical to me to be less visible and consistent as I work on completing my book and will need a platform from which to present it. And I will sorely miss the encouragement I find through your blogs chronicling your journey towards godliness, shared with candor and grace.


However, I don't have much choice. My own computer is showing it's age and is unable to connect to the internet anymore. My access will be limited to the occasional use of my husband's computer. So I'm not sure how frequently I will be posting or visiting your sites. Hopefully this situation is temporary, but it's hard to tell.


In the meantime, let me say, may "The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the LORD turn his face toward you and give you peace," in this New Year! (Numbers 6:24-26)

Borrowed Bed

{Four months ago my husband and I left our last place of ministry, the move was due to many factors, some positive, some not. We stepped in faith with trust in the One who rescues and provides. We're living in the home of generous friends as we seek and wait. As you can imagine the financial and emotional strain is daily. My heart wrestles and I write.}

All that's left is a borrowed bed. A suitcase shoved full of dreams. Opened to the sun the dreams dissipate like a mist, and I wonder why I packed them in the first place. Maybe the faith that's been growing was plucked too green. It seemed bigger and firmer, ripe and full then, whenever then was.

When all that's left is waiting and wanting, I lay down in a borrowed bed. The ache so deep it feels eternal. The hunger of now bleeds into the hunger that's been. A soreness in the heart that came with every pack-up-and-move, all the what ifs. It's been around long enough, familiar but not like an old friend. Often it hides behind the busy moments of life, forgotten in the midst of living. In this quiet waiting it creeps back in to sit by the bed and keep watch.

For years, gaining experience, adding to a family, buying, learning and doing have felt like progress. But in the end the faith is still too green, the bed is still borrowed, and want is all too familiar. Isn't that what life is like, a borrowed bed? You come in bare and the bed you're laid in isn't one you bought. And the accumulation is an illusion. It's these moments, bereft, that the starkness stands out. Life is good and full of wonder, stars shine bright, hands hold, gifts are given. But when you stand face to face with a borrowed bed it all comes rushing back.

At least I have a bed to borrow, things to shove into a 10x10 unit, car to drive, food to eat, kids to hug, eyes to see. Why do I have this life? Why wasn't I born in the Sudan to usher innocence into pain and spend my days brushing the flies away. And yet I can't swallow the lump of loss down. The shiny dream of a work that mattered, vibrant as a rainbow, has shattered and lays as glass, only a broken jagged edged mirror of what it had been. Hope tries to float up like a bubble and I bat it away, not allowing it to form. I've been through that drill before and I flinch to go there again.

Could it be the pit of hunger I feel is the same soul hunger as the Sudanese mother, at least in origin if not in reality? I would never wish to trade places with her, ever. Yet, when stripped bare, is the ache of every heart not the same. Each soul a gaping hole of want, whether clothed in silk or in mud. And maybe the illusion of physical needs met only postpones the face to face of deep soul cry, “I want more”.

Laying on the borrowed bed I claw my way to obedience. I don't feel like worshiping, don't want to give thanks, but I do. Naming the gifts, reciting promises, asking for forgiveness, calling out in need, I flex spiritual muscles. I know I'll have to do it again and again and again. But obedience makes a way.

Later in the assembly, gathered to obey together, worship pours out. From pure lips, from scarred hearts, from dirty feet, from desperate hands, from joyful souls, all mingling together as perfume. It washes over me, that faithful sacrifice, and lifts up where my faith has faltered. Obedience has led me to a place where my ears can hear, the sound is sweet, it's life.

Light, a single ray, penetrates. Dispelling lies and sorrow and bitterness and self-pity. The cross is not for once, it's for every day. Eyes must see the gift, ears hear the call, heart know the words, again. The light of eternity falls across my borrowed bed dispelling self-pitying gloom. I come like the priests of old, into the Holy of Holy's, right up to the Mercy Seat, in the shadow of angel wings I bow.

In reality all beds are borrowed. All belongs to Him. I'm learning to grab hold of the golden moments, gifts every one, knowing one day all will be golden. A borrowed bed pushes me on to grab hold of more, more than what's seen. No golden moment is ever only that, nor the gray ones. Beauty and ugly, joy and pain mingle in this life. Only eternity justifies either. I'm living the hard worship, in the dark trust, until looking at his face faith becomes my sight.

Maybe you've had moments when nothing is enough. I think we were made that way, to be satisfied by nothing but Jesus. Even the satisfaction of good things in life is temporary. This world is not enough, because we were made for another one. Does your heart long for it's eternal home? How do you cling to hope in the hard times?

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? 

Tangled Hearts

Re-post from August 14, 2009

Broken tangled heap, barbed, rusty mess. Useless. Hearts lying in disrepair, hidden, hurting. Encountering people, children who are broken, tangled, messy challenges me. Little ones, barefoot, soiled, wasted by loved ones, by the world. I don't understand. I don't like brushing up against poverty, I resent ignorance. I like things neat and useful. I like people I can understand. Nice, clean, tidy people. I like to pretend I am one...

Jesus' eyes pierce, reveal, hold answers. He's not put off by messy. Thank heaven. He delights in challenge, chance to show his power, time for glory. I straighten, tuck, clean the rooms of my heart. Puff of wind and the card house falls. Eyes raise, meeting his. Questions forgotten, answers found in his face, The Answer, The Face. Hopeless people, scary people, secrets locked in wounded hearts. I see broken mess, cast aside and useless, he sees... he sees... Promise.Mess made straight. Promise of wounds healed, chains loosed. Freedom. Do I hope in the promise? Find comfort in the promise? Extend the promise? To me, to others? Oh, God help me. I want to see beauty behind angry eyes. I want to see fear turn to love right before me. Reaching out to take a marred, quivering world by the hand scares me. Turn my fears into bold belief, Heart Tamer. "Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me."

Do you believe the promise for you, for the broken others?

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.

Tangled

Broken tangled heap, barbed, rusty mess. Useless. Hearts lying in disrepair, hidden, hurting. Encountering people, children who are broken, tangled, messy challenges me. Little ones, barefoot, soiled, wasted by loved ones, by the world. I don't understand. I don't like brushing up against poverty, I resent ignorance. I like things neat and useful. I like people I can understand. Nice, clean, tidy people. I like to pretend I am one...

Jesus' eyes pierce, reveal, hold answers. He's not put off by messy. Thank heaven. He delights in challenge, chance to show his power, time for glory. I straighten, tuck, clean the rooms of my heart. Puff of wind and the card house falls. Eyes raise, meeting his. Questions forgotten, answers found in his face, The Answer, The Face. Hopeless people, scary people, secrets locked in wounded hearts. I see broken mess, cast aside and useless he sees... he sees... I don't know, I can't understand. Promise.Mess made straight. Promise of wounds healed, chains loosed. Freedom. Do I hope in the promise? Find comfort in the promise? Extend the promise? To me, to others? Oh, God help me. I want to see beauty behind angry eyes. I want to see fear turn to love right before me. Reaching out to take a marred, quivering world by the hand scares me. Turn my fears into bold belief, Heart Tamer. "Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me."