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!

Adventures in Gardening ~ Thorns

"For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God." Romans 8:20-21

Maggie and I continue digging in our dirt. We haven't planted yet, we're still removing large amounts of grass and rocks from the soil. Hopefully this week we'll add lime and fertilizer and then the seeds will go into the ground!

I was reminded yesterday, as the sun beat down on my neck and droplets formed at my temples, that gardening is done in a fallen world. The curse of sin is seen so clearly as we fight weeds and thorns to grow good things from the ground. It isn't without sweating and getting dirty that good food is grown.

That's true of spiritual gardening as well. Life is lived in a fallen 'garden', truth is often choked out by lies. Healthy relationships don't grow without the hard work of cultivation.

In this world there will always be weeds and thorns, rocky ground, hard soil, bad weather. Right expectations are so important to avoid discouragement and defeat. We, as believers, are not what we will be, the church is not the pure bride she's becoming, this earth is not free of the curse, yet. The day will come when everything in heaven and earth will be made right, the curse will be lifted, the dragon slain. But not today. Today we toil under the curse. Today we cultivate rocky ground. Today we live under the shadow of death.

"But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells. So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him." 2 Peter 3:13

Today as we do the hard work of toiling, physically and spiritually, under the curse of sin, let's remember what we look forward to. A home of righteousness and peace! Every golden day overshadowed by a rain cloud, every walk through the dark valley brightened by a surprising ray of sunshine reminds us of the hope of a better day, of the world we were made to live in! We're going home.

Grief, an invitation

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." Matthew 5:4

  
Sometimes black clouds roll in and the sky opens up in a nasty gash and pours out grief. That's where I find myself today. After weeks of witnessing the worst of humanity's suffering, even if through blurry images, my heart has no where else to go but grief. Prayers have turned to tears.

Sin is a big deal and it's effect stretches through all of creation and life. If it wasn't a big deal, the payment for sin wouldn't be death.

Grief can be personal, the private wrestle with failed health, the daily longing for a lost loved one, the ache for a rebellious teenager, grief touches our hearts in a thousand ways though out a life time.  


It's also appropriate to grieve the scar of sin across creation, the suffering of a people group, the sin of a respected leader. Mourning is an invitation to join in an expression of our Father's heart. Aware that we will grieve, inviting us to mourn; he has provided.


Psalm 84:6 "When they walk through the Valley of Weeping, it will become a place of refreshing springs." How? "A single day in your courts is better than a thousand anywhere else!" (vs. 10) Our comfort and refreshing is his presence.


Just like anything, mourning can become worship, it's a holy work, not to be despised or shunned. Grief isn't a land that should be lived in, but rather a season, important to the rhythm of life.

If you find yourself in a season of mourning, invite God to be present, he has promised comfort. If you are walking in a season of joy, celebrate God's good gift, every season comes from him. 

Five Minute Friday: Loss

I'm linking up with Gypsy Mama for Five Minute Friday's.We write for 5 minutes flat with no editing, tweaking or self critiquing. Link back to the post and invite others to join. Then encourage the writer before us. Head on over if you'd like to join in. (Today is a little different. Lisa Jo is allowing us to bend the rules and write longer, since she did, if we'd like.)

Today's prompt: Loss

Go:

At time's dawn. Known in perfect fellowship, face to face. Perfect in freedom, alive in unity with Triune Community, perfect balance. Bare feet padding through pristine mossy glades, jeweled sunshine dappling unblemished skin. Ahh, dwelling. Together in beautiful companionship with each other, with each exquisite creature, with I Am, dwelling. 


First juicy bite, death stained chin quivers, knowing. The soul bleeds out, drenching ground with anguish. Heart beat hushes, her perfect home is deathly still. Stars and angels, serpent and dove,  the Father, all look in grief at the marring of beauty. Loss. In one moment, perfect and utter loss.  Driven from home and Him, wanderers amidst thorns. Time turned in one moment against us all, born into dieing. Each loss born from first loss. 

The world spins to the music of her children's plaintive wail, bereaved from their beginning. Grieving a home they never knew, but know was there. I am one of them, homeless wanderer seeking, never satisfied. Each beautiful moment stirs in me the dream of what was lost, what will one day be found, dwelling. 


Hearts hush at the coming, ears twitch listening hard. Light spilling on all marred by the loss. There in the beginning, witness to tragedy. Light wraps up in flesh and bone, Word pierces time with his being, Home has come to us! What we lost in the beginning, he restored. Death for death and it is done, all made right.

The prophecy rings in my ears and drives me on. The promise of dwelling, all things new, God with his people once again. The stain and sting and sorrow of what has been, swallowed up. Long night gone. Day will last forever, illuminated by the Lamb. Light wrapped in skin, one of us. Loss will be forgotten, as we dwell.

Stop.
(Boy did I break the rules today!)

Women who Inspire: The Sisterhood

Sister -  (from dictionary.com)
adjective

12. being or considered a sister; related by or as if by sisterhood: sister ships.

13. having a close relationship with another because of shared interests, problems, or the like.

I have been undeniably blessed by precious women in my life. Some close family, some that lived before my time, some have rubbed me hard smoothing away jagged edges, some young, some old, some who know my heart deeply and still love me, some I've never met. But all sharing a common relation, fellowship birthed from the blood of Jesus. Sweet family, a gift. These women have so energized my Christian walk I just had to introduce some of them to you. (I hope you will post a comment and tell me about the women who have blessed your life.)

This week's sister:

Shameful, broken, unloved. I wonder if you've ever felt that way. I'd like to wrap myself in a churchy shawl of holier-than-thou and pretend I haven't, but it would be a lie. This week's sister was no stranger to sin. Perhaps she was wounded as a girl. She could have been a rebel at heart, hating the confines of law. Maybe it began innocently enough, one decision leading to another until she found herself farther from God than she ever intended to wander. What ever the case may be, she was well aware of her neediness.

The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?”...he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground. At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”“No one, sir,” she said.“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.” (John 8)

Broken, life battered, suffering at the hands of others as well as her own, she is my sister. Your sister. We're alike in need and in grace. Of all the women in the Bible she may be the one I love most. She stood bare before Jesus, on the brink of death, guilty. Deserving to die, she received grace. She looked up, where were her accusers? Gone, the guilty can not condemn the guilty. Mercy chooses not to.

In your life do you forget that shame is gone, that accusers have walked away and Jesus has not condemned? Our past is not meant to define us, forgiveness is. The Bible doesn't say what comes next in the story. It ends begging a question. Will each fresh encounter with the mob, bringing us to the feet of Jesus, lead us to live in restored worship?


How about you, do you live free? Or, do you walk back to the mob, hand them their rocks of condemnation and refuse forgiveness in favor of guilt? You are not condemned.

Jesus Blood

As I sit down to write my heart is so full. Today, or maybe I should say the last few weeks, parenting Max has been a challenge. Ive noticed since his 5th birthday in January and since Jacob moved a few weeks ago Max has been less mellow and more argumentative. He's been expressing his displeasure at having to obey or being corrected with rude words, angry faces, stomping, things he's never done quite to this level. I think in some ways as he's grown he's been testing the boundaries and trying out a few new tricks. Tonight we required that he try at least a bite of either an orange or black beans with our meal. There was much wailing, gnashing of teeth and in the end a spanking. As he expressed his frustration and anger we tried to help him to understand that some expressions (especially rudeness and setting your parents straight) are not appropriate.

The terrible ordeal ended with him crying with orange in his mouth, which led to choking, which led to him going to bed early. Unfortunately there will be orange for breakfast, we'll see how that goes. As I got him ready for bed he was very emotional and crying still. Between tears he sobbed he was nothing but trouble, he just couldn't do things right. As much as that broke my heart I believed I was hearing conviction. I took the opportunity to talk him through what he was feeling.

I should clarify that this all started a few days ago in a time out for something or other. I asked him why his heart was so angry. He told me it was because his heart was black. I asked him what he thought would help his heart. "God's blood, I need God's blood for my heart." Profound. When I originally asked the question I wasn't expecting anything quite so deep.

So, back to tonight. As he was telling me he was nothing but trouble I realized one thing that was distressing him was that if Jesus blood was in his heart why was he still trouble. Oh, haven't I asked the same question a hundred times. He said he believed God loved him but not that Jesus died just once, because he needed his blood again. I took the opportunity to explain that even though Jesus blood saves us we also need to ask for his blood applied to our hearts to forgive us again when we sin, but that Jesus doesn't need to die again. So he said right away well I better ask for his blood to forgive me again. He squinted his eyes real tight and prayed, "Jesus, I'm sorry I was rude and I'm trouble, will you give me your blood to forgive me, Amen."

He was hooked and wanted 'to know more'. So I told him a little about the Jewish sacrificial system and why Jesus was our lamb. His eyes got wide. I told him about sanctification. To which he replied, "I just don't get it." I told him I didn't get it when I was little either but that he would learn. I explained that sometimes mommy and daddy are still trouble and we need Jesus blood in our hearts all over again too. But that one day we would all be perfect and we wouldn't be trouble or need to be forgiven ever again.

He relaxed and went to sleep. And I left his room full to the brim to hear my child cry out to his savior. I learned so much about myself, my son, God. Life is painful, even when you're five, only Jesus blood gives the pain meaning. I love how he grasped the concept of the blood. Where there is sin someone has to die, there must always be blood. I'm so grateful Jesus provided his. I don't ask Jesus to "put his blood in my heart again" often enough. I'm thankful for the reminder of a child.

Cleansing

Words are jostling around in my mind all vying for attention, reflection, definition. Passion, worship, spiritual, sin, holiness, commitment. All words God is teaching me about and challenging me on. Each word could be focused on exclusively and developed in my life. Yet I'm learning they are interwoven, each effected by the other.

How does a person, a church, become spiritually passionate? How do we become committed to holiness? When does worship become a lifestyle? How do we get past the form of spirituality and to the heart of spirituality?

I believe the crux of the issue is sin. I am not merciless with sin. I, and I believe many others in the church, let sin creep in unchecked. I confess I'm not consistent with confessing and dealing swiftly and brutally with sin. I wouldn't knowingly allow cancer to go unchecked in my body. Sin is just as surely a death sentence in my life.

I don't want to live at the mercy of sin anymore. I've learned it has no mercy. It's goal is my destruction. God's glory and holiness should reign in my life and all that it brings, not the putrid stench of death. If I haven't washed my heart in Jesus blood, cleaning the stains of sin from my heart, when I walk into his presence to worship, pray, commune the stench of death rises to meet him instead of the sweet perfume of Jesus. What an assault to his gift of grace.

Whenever I ask myself why does God seem silent, why don't I have joy like I did or should, why is the bible dry, why am I at odds with others, why, why, why... I know sin is the culprit. When I hear other people ask those questions, or see a lack of fruit and passion I know sin's at the root of it. When I see a church struggling to connect with each other and the community, lacking zeal, disconnected in worship I know sin is lurking.

The Holy Spirit is hindered in his work of transforming us into holy people when sin is left undelt with in our lives. Only when we begin at the beginning, washing our hearts for the first or the five hundredth time, can passion ignite, worship flow freely, healing begin. Oh, come and clean us Jesus. May our goal be your glory and the means be our holiness.