The Scandalous Truth

Have you ever read the Bible to a kid? I didn't realize how scandalous the Bible was until I tried to read it to my son! It's full of murder, adultery, lying, stealing, and trickery, and that's all done by the good guys. It's worse than a Maury Povich show, father-in-laws and daughter-in-laws and babies. How do you read that to an impressionable nine year old? 

All of that scandal points out a greater scandal though, God's love. He's not surprised or put off by the mayhem. He moves in with grace anyway. 

Do you ever feel like your life is a wreck, one big scandalous mess? Don't hide from God, like your parents Adam and Eve did, or you'll miss out on the bigger scandal; God's not impressed by your mess, he's impressed by his mercy.

But we really good Christians try to clean all that up, and in the process, without realizing it, we lose the power. It's unfortunate really that we tend to do that. 

As I read the Bible to Max I want to teach him to read it with wonder over the worst of man being met by all the goodness of God. 

Let's read the Bible with fresh eyes.Without hiding our flaws and mistakes, let the light of truth bring them out in the open, only then can we realize the greatness of God's gift of reconciliation. 

"The old life is gone; a new life burgeons! Look at it! All this comes from the God who settled the relationship between us and him, and then called us to settle our relationships with each other. God put the world square with himself through the Messiah, giving the world a fresh start by offering forgiveness of sins." 2 Corinthians 5:18

Do you let the messy reality of your life, of the world, of the heroes of the faith, and the undaunted goodness of God come face to face in the pages of the Bible? 

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!

Called to Love

Gordana and Beck

Last week I shared a little bit about meeting Gordana when I traveled to Serbia last year. Her work reaching out to the brokenhearted women of Novi Sad moves me. Many of us have heard of the huge amount of women caught in human trafficking and prostitution around the world. How many people do we actually know on the front lines working personally to help these women? 

What a privilege for us to hear from Gordana's heart today! I hope you will listen closely as she shares about the burden God has given her:

When God called me to the ministry with abandoned women I didn’t know what to expect. I still wasn’t really aware of the way God’s heart looks like, how His love overwhelms and what is the work of His grace. I knew this would happen, He firstly had to break my heart and bring me on my knees before Him. 

Unchanged hearts can never bring forth God’s love to broken people. 

One Friday night as we went to the roadside district where the prostituted girls stood, God came to me with His words, which almost blew me away from my bike as we rode for prayer. 

He asked me, "Gordana, beloved, you have a daughter, right?" 

I said, "Yes, Lord, I do." 

"What would you do in a big city like this if she was lost?" 

The conversation continued. "Ooh, what wouldn’t I do? We would all go looking for her!" 

"OK, I have my daughters lost and I want you to go looking for them!" Jesus said. A tear was running down my cheek. 

I wanted to bend my knees before Him. I hadn’t know how broken His heart was for the girls who are giving their bodies and souls to other men... devil... whoever... Our Lord is crying for the lost. It could be anyone, your brother, sister, cousin or neighbor. 

Can we sit and do nothing? No, I cannot. Because of His love! 

After I met some of the street girls I couldn’t believe the strong feelings I had for them. I felt such strong love which I was not able to explain. I knew God poured His love into my selfish heart. My heart was no longer the same. And He is continuing to keep my heart at this humble state. 

Then I read famous three-times question from John 21. Jesus asked Peter over and over again, "Do you love me?" Yes, I do. "Then go and feed my children. Then go and care for the needy. Then go and help them." This is the way you show me love. You received love and grace. Now go and give it away. As you do, the love and grace will always be refilled in your heart. 

So, if you want the key to increase your love, this is the way to do it. Give love away. God’s love in you and your love for Him will grow and you will be His beloved loving daughter. 

Gordana, Nichole, and Beck

Gordana, and two of her friends ride bikes through the red light district of Novi Sad praying for the lives of the women chained in hopelessness. They take small gifts to the women and engage them in conversation, offering them friendship and truth. Her ministry, Nova Zena, which means New Woman, offers help for women in abusive relationships and those caught in prostitution. 

Today I'd like to ask you to do a few things. 

• Take a moment to pray for Gordana and her team. Pray for safety and wisdom and courage. Ask God to help them build trust with women and to lead women trapped in bondage to freedom, spiritually and physically.
• Share this post with others that you know are interested in being a part of ending human trafficking.
• Lastly, as you pray will you ask God how he may want you to be involved? Consider giving a one time gift or a monthly donation to the work of Nova Zena. Consider becoming a regular prayer partner and receiving ministry updates.

Gordana reminded us that God's love grows in our heart as it is given away. Who has he called you to give his love away to today? 

We don't want Religion

"We don't want religion or rules, we want you Jesus" a friend of mine recently prayed. 

My mouth formed a hearty, "Mmhmm." But my heart lurched in conviction. Is that true? Do I want Jesus more than the safety of rules or an attainable form of religion?

I've been reading through the gospels in The Message lately and one thing that's grabbed my attention is Jesus' assault on religion. Not an affront to holiness, or righteousness, or people, but against an empty measuring of our own goodness by human standards and rules.

I'm reminded of my twenties, I spent a lot of time pursuing Jesus but using the wrong standard to measure by. Conforming to religious rules was a measurement I was comfortable with. It was all born out of fear. If people don't obey the rules things can get out of hand real fast, and we don't want a mess.

But I found I was the one in the box, following the rules created, and the mess of life still wasn't contained. It's understandable to appreciate guidelines and rules. As a child and a young Christian it's how we know what's right and wrong, our understanding is shaped, the world is explained. But rules are for children, not friends, not disciples.

Don't get me wrong I'm not suggesting sin is okay. Evil has no place in the heart of a Jesus lover. But standards govern what we eat, wear, say, do, use, not our hearts.

Freedom is a threat as much to the religious as to the true enemy of our soul's, that old father of lies. Because when grace pries the fingers of religion off of a soul, freedom abounds. Religion is a hard thing to identify, even in our own hearts. I find that an action begun in grace can turn to a law or rule quicker that I can blink.

I think that's why everything must be up for evaluation, regularly. Every motive, every discipline, every program, rule, and action has to be weighed in the balance of grace. In Luke Jesus challenges the religious leaders. Those perfect at keeping the letter, though not the heart, of the law. Is the Sabbath for "helping people or leaving them helpless?" he asked. (Luke 6:9) He asked them to evaluate, in the balance of grace, their practice of keeping the law.

When he challenged them on a rigid doctrine, devoid of life, a kind of righteous slavery they were "beside themselves with anger, and started plotting how they might get even with him." (Luke 6:11)

It's so easy to be caught up in holy action, righteous practice, devoted living and not even realize the heart has gone out of it all. A good test of whether we're pursuing religion or Jesus is how we handle evaluation. If what we do is for the sake of our Beloved we face very little threat of evaluation and will humbly accept questions. However a loud protest and rigid defense of our programs, guidelines, and actions is typically a good indication that it's our own kingdom we're defending, not Jesus'.

If these words tread on your toes don't feel too badly, mine are thoroughly bruised! But isn't it better to endure a little toe stepping as a precaution against finding ourselves "plotting against Jesus"? 

So let's ask ourselves, why do we do the things we do. Are they born of love, or religion?

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

How do you use your influence?

Business bullied my heart this week and pressing responsibility squeezed tight. The littlest one bore the brunt of it. She usually does. As I felt the crush of expectation, mostly my own; and drive to accomplish, my words turned sour and sharp. How could I think about, write about, celebrate mercy, and yet so shamefully neglect to give it? 

I'm reminded once again that I am sorrowfully broken, so easily misguided. Even the best of my intentions, without God breath, are a puff of dust leaving a dry taste in the mouth. 

Perhaps that easy distraction, a slipping into the love of boxes and rules instead of truth, isn't so new a problem. In Acts Paul mentions a group of women, devout, God fearing women, who were easily stirred up to love their own way more than the truth.

And so the Word of the Lord [concerning eternal salvation through Christ] scattered and spread throughout the whole region. But the Jews stirred up the devout women of high rank and the outstanding men of the town, and instigated persecution against Paul and Barnabas and drove them out of their boundaries. Acts 13:49-50

The truth of Christ is always met with opposition. What is scary is that it can be met with opposition even in the most devout. Truth always requires a response, a bending with or standing opposed. It strikes me in this passage that the women mentioned had the opportunity to affect the whole community, for good or bad, with their actions and words.

Do I realize, do you realize, the power our words and attitudes, actions and choices have on those around us? Our children are watching, our husbands listening, the young women we teach, the facebook community we interact with, the women we have coffee with, they are all influenced by us.

Women are influencers with the power to "instigate". Sometimes it's hard to look in the mirror, but I think this question bears attention. How are we influencing? Are our words negative, biting into the heart of those listening, leaving behind a trail of doubt and cynicism; are they self exalting; are they colored with rigid religion, fear, or pride?

Or do our words wash others with an outpouring of hope, fresh as rain, quenching parched hearts. Do we speak of mercy, forgiveness, trust? Do we confess our fears and weaknesses, doubts and lack of understanding in humility? Do we celebrate the spread of Christ's eternal salvation, for all people?

Our influence as women in our communities is powerful and not to be taken lightly. I'm convicted regularly how short I've fallen, how careless I've been with such a sacred trust.

I'd love to hear from you. How do you guard your influence? Do you have women in your life who hold you accountable? 

You can leave a comment here or head over to the Allied Women website and join in the conversation in the Mentoring forum. We would love to have you!

Jesus In The Real World

I really like to think of sweet little Jesus boy coming to a cozy stall, gently laid in fresh, golden straw. Thankfully the mirage isn't the reality. His Mama hurt like every other woman since Eve was cursed with pain in child birth. She couldn't blame Joseph with the look of daggers, saying, "it's all your fault." But even though she was submissive to God's plan I don't think for a moment it took the pain of labor away. Jesus was born just like every other baby, a precious, pink infant into a broken, dangerous world. 

His birth was heralded by angels, while taking place during political turmoil, and before long his family was on the run from a narcissistic king. He escaped, but the children of Bethlehem did not. I hate that part of the story. How do we go from good tidings of great joy to the wail of Bethlehem's mothers who won't be comforted because their children are no more?

And yet the world Jesus entered is the same world we entered upon our birth. A world of terror, a world of simple joy, all swirled together in the human experience. Attempting to sterilize the story of Jesus birth does us a disservice. We need him to be one of us.

It's precisely because violent men kill small children, then and now, that Jesus joined the human race. He came not to suggest a better way of living, or establish a utopia, he came to wage war. He came to lead us home.

How many Christmases have we spent festive and partying, celebrating a baby wrapped in tradition, obscured by culture, forgetting that the night the sky tore open and God's glory spilled out, it was heaven's warriors that came, announcing the strategy for the victory of an ancient battle. Jesus birth wasn't the soft, velvety scene from a Christmas card. It was full of political intrigue, murder plots, terror, and scandal.

This Christmas season I feel particularly tumultuous. I don't know why, it could be my own personal struggles. But I also think it has to do with the weariness I feel in this world. She's groaning and straining under the weight of the curse and either I'm more aware of what's going on or things are getting worse. The shooting at Sandy Hook school was terrible but let's be honest, was there really more suffering that day than the day before or the day after. Our world is suffering, violence is real.

Evil stalked Newtown on Friday, and carved out a momentary victory. Let's not forget evil stalks humanity every moment of every day. Which is why the angels shouted, good news Salvation has come! And why the shepherds were told to go and see. After the shepherds saw their salvation they shouted it far and wide, to men and women who lived in darkness they proclaimed the light. God was with them in a way he never had been before.

I want my neighbor, who's yard last night was full of cops and whose children were crying in the night, to know that God is with me, and can be with her as well. I want to combat evil with Christ in me, our only hope of glory, our only means of Salvation. Jesus is not a stranger to the ache of life, it's what he was born for. It's what I'm reborn for. To display his glory to dying men, that they may have true life.

"In him [Jesus] was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:4-5

Words ~ A Life-Giving Fountain

"I used to think the words spoken about us describe who we are, but now I know they shape who we are." Bob Goff, "Love Does"

Words that have changed me.
Notice which one is just under the Bible.

I've been reading Bob Goff's amazing book, Love Does, for a few days now. It is impacting how I see things, what I feel, my capacity for believing the impossible. Words do that.

I love words. Spoken and written. I'm a talker, a writer, a dreamer. I always have been. It's a gift, except when it's not. Words are powerful, they can shape a person's image of themselves, impart hope, explain beautiful truths and draw others to God.

But words also have the power to destroy. We all know that, we've been on the backside of words flung from a careless mouth that cut to the bone. That's when words are more of a curse than a blessing.

I've been shaped and encouraged by words, and I'm thankful. The words of people who love me have guided and comforted. The Word revealed in the Bible, God sharing his heart with us on paper, is more of a gift than I can fathom.

There are books too, written by men and women who's hearts are on fire, the words blaze off the page and into mine. I'm so grateful, I will never be the same because of the words they've shared. There are several that come to mind immediately.

One of those books is Susie Larson's "The Uncommon Woman". I've read it three times in the last few years and shared it with numerous friends. Her vulnerable, passionate words changed how I saw Jesus and his church. They made me fall in love all over again. But what's even more remarkable is the gift she's given to me personally.

About a year ago I wrote a post and asked if she would share it on her blog. She did! The people in the next county over heard about it that night, all the way from the front porch! For a year or so I've commented on her blog or facebook page and she has responded graciously, personally, warmly, to my comments. Of course she does that with the other women and men who leave comments for her, but that doesn't matter, somehow for a moment I feel heard and valued.

What Susie probably doesn't even realize, but I'm acutely aware of, is the power of her words to speak life, to launch a dream, to cast a vision. Why is that, why does she have such power? I believe it's because people like myself have recognized the influence of the Holy Spirit in her life. In a way we're not just hearing what Susie Larson thinks when she speaks to us, we're hearing from God.

That realization got me thinking. What if we all thought of our words as a sacred trust? What if we all realized that we have the power to speak words of life and death, to kill a heart or resurrect a dream? What if we were so in tune with Jesus and the truth of scripture that people, our children and husbands, our co-workers and neighbors, our friends and enemies, heard the voice of God when we spoke?

"The words of the godly are a life-giving fountain; the words of the wicked conceal violent intentions." Proverbs 10:11

What do you think? Do words have that kind of power? Have you experienced life giving words from another, how about life killing words? Do you use your words as a sacred trust, offering life and hope? 

Jesus Bugs Me, the Cure for a Wicked Heart

"Yes Jesus bugs me, yes Jesus bugs me, yes Jesus bugs me the Bible tells me so," sings my four year old Maggie lately. I chuckle to myself over her misunderstanding or perhaps her interpretation of the children's classic. Her perspective sheds light on some pretty sketchy behavior and I think she speaks for others when she claims, "yes Jesus bugs me." Jesus bugs us in different ways. Some are bugged by his insistence that he in fact is in charge, I have a feeling Maggie falls into this category. Others are bugged by his altogether uniqueness, they're bewitched, can't get enough of him, he gets under their skin.

Last week I was reading Psalm 1 to the kids at breakfast.  

Oh, the joys of those who do not    follow the advice of the wicked,   or stand around with sinners, or join in with mockers. Psalm 1:1

I hadn't even made it passed verse one when Maggie jumps in, "I like being wicked." Taken back I wasn't quite sure what to say. Chris had come into the kitchen in time to hear his littlest pk (pastor's kid) make that charming statement. "What does wicked mean?" he asked Maggie. I'm sure he was hoping to clarify her misunderstanding of the word. No such luck. Without missing a beat she answered, "to be bad." Well, she has a good vocabulary.

We took a moment to help her understand that it was entirely her choice to be good or wicked. She just needed to be aware of the consequences, which we explained. Her brother was horrified that she would want to be wicked, which is a heart reflection, he wants to please Jesus and his parents. Jesus has gotten under his skin. Maggie is not encumbered by such desires. We told her that her family loves Jesus and wants to please him, while she lives with us she will be required to do what is right, the above mentioned consequences will ensure her compliance, but ultimately the issue comes down to her heart.

Her confession is honest. Most people should be so candid. I think her statement is a reflection of the human condition. Unless we respond to Jesus' love and come to the place of willingly submitting to his authority we're like Maggie, free to choose wickedness, and apt to, we just need to be aware of the consequences.

We've all had moments when we "like being wicked." But when Jesus bugs us, gets under our skin, in a good way we will begin to love being righteous more. Until that time we're free to be wicked we just need to be aware of the consequences.

For the Lord watches over the path of the godly,  but the path of the wicked leads to destruction. Psalm 1:6

I pray for my little girl, that Jesus would "bug her", he's the cure for a wicked heart. I pray he would get under her skin and mold her to his likeness, I pray that for myself as well. I trust that in time she will come to prefer the joys and blessings of a godly life. 

Let's make that our prayer today for those around us who are choosing wickedness, that the consequences will lead them to grace. And for our own hearts that Jesus would bug us, would get under our skin, molding us more to his likeness every day.

A Lesson In Abiding, Humility, Grace and a New Found Limp

On Wednesday I wrote a blog post that I regret. (If you didn't read it don't bother looking for it, I removed it.) On Thursday I wanted to delete my blog and silently slip away, never to have my words read again. Like shards of glass, sharp and scattered, I knew I could never call the words back. Friday I woke up to Mercy, a song over me, grace extended in my direction even though I hadn't offered the same. Sweet relief.


The week before I posted about not being enough. Then I posted about a right expectation of other's and their inability to be enough to satisfy us. I then promptly forgot everything I learned and gave way to the self-righteous urge to sloppily express hot feelings.


Thankfully Jesus doesn't deal with me in the same manner I deal with others. 


Interestingly, Wednesday morning, my father-in-law and I had a conversation about learning from the mistakes of others and our own mistakes. And still I blazed ahead giving vent to feelings I had not allowed Jesus to temper properly. What could have been an opportunity to give voice to truth was lost because truth and humility cannot be separated, and I would have none of that.


Graciously some friends emulated Paul in my life, "But when Peter came to Antioch, I (Paul) had to oppose him to his face, for what he did was very wrong." Their gentle push back, a reminder to embrace grace, stung. Their words also forced me to Jesus in prayer. Through it I gained more clarity about the concerns I had so clumsily expressed but more importantly I regained a right perspective of who I am in Jesus.


I had not been abiding in him. Disconnected from Jesus' heart, that great source of love, my words had turned brassy and ugly. A painful reminder that abiding is essential. Apart from him I am nothing, my words mean nothing. 


John 15:3-5 "Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me. Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing."


As a writer, to have an audience is a privilege, words are a trust. When my words resonate with you I'm thankful. But when they don't I'm thankful for friends who are willing to say so. I have people in my daily life I'm accountable to. I've given them the right to challenge me. I want to do the same here. I welcome accountability from you the reader to remind me to abide in Jesus, to use words according to his purpose. 


There are times for a writer to call out a bold challenge, times for quiet tones of beauty, and then there are times to sit in quiet humility, hand over mouth. Sometimes it's a challenge to know which is which. 


I know that I will at times meet with disagreement or criticism, that's an inevitable part of putting yourself out there as a writer. Pleasing people can't and shouldn't be my goal. But a healthy part of the writing process is taking challenges from trusted sources to heart, allowing them to sift motive and intent.


I will write with a limp for weeks, months, maybe even years. Which I think is a valuable gift. A costly gift, guarding words as they flow from my fingers and into your heart. Reminding me I'm susceptible to pride and foolishness, reminding me to abide in Jesus.


Thank you for reading, for being gracious and patient, and for second chances. 

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?

Set Free

Freedom...

Love of self kills our freedom in Christ.

"Do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh ; rather, serve one another humbly in love." Galatians 5:13

Conforming to the image others have for us, out of fear, leaves us prisoners.

"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." Galatians 5:1

 

Laws; self imposed, government imposed, church imposed, never lead to freedom.

"I will walk about in freedom, for I have sought out your precepts." Psalm 119:45

 Searching for freedom in the face of another love is dangerous.

"He has sent me [Jesus] to proclaim freedom for the prisoners... to set the oppressed free." Luke 4:18b-19a

 Freedom on earth is a temporary truce, anything else is surrender.

"Creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God." Romans 8:21

 Pride tears down freedom. Man never authors freedom he enters into it.

"Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom." 

2 Corinthians 3:17

 We don't fight for freedom, as something to win, we live in it. 

"In him we may approach God with freedom and confidence." Ephesians 3:12

 Freedom without responsibility, love, or self-sacrifice  is not freedom, it is petulant self-indulgence.

"Live as free people, but do not use your freedom as a cover-up for evil." 1 Peter 2:16

Freedom is everywhere, if we're looking for it. It takes eyes focused, not on ourselves, or others, but on the crucified and risen Christ Jesus. 

"For these rules are only shadows of the reality yet to come. And Christ himself is that reality... Since you have been raised to new life with Christ, set your sights on the realities of heaven, where Christ sits in the place of honor at God’s right hand. Think about the things of heaven, not the things of earth. For you died to this life, and your real life is hidden with Christ in God. And when Christ, who is your life, is revealed to the whole world, you will share in all his glory." Colossians 2:17, 3:1-4

That is the ultimate freedom!

 

 Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains or slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take but as for me, give me liberty or give me death! - Patrick Henry

Can we resonate in our spirits with Patrick Henry's sentiment. Is there any sin, or law, or pleasure that binds us to anything other than true freedom in Christ? This week of celebrated liberty do you live set free, liberated in joy? What's holding you back from living in freedom today? 

 

{The content of this post has been recycled from an archived post dated August 31, 2011.}

Unity Matters ~ A Match Made in Heaven

"Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her  to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. After all, no one ever hated their own body, but they feed and care for their body, just as Christ does the church— for we are members of his body. "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh." This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church. However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband." Ephesians 5:25-33

God has been teaching me about unity lately (I've written several posts on that topic in the last few months. You can read three of them here and here and here.) Lately, I've been pondering God's picture to us of unity in marriage. I'm compelled to probe God's call to be united to him and I'm intrigued by the "profound mystery" that he communicates to us about unity in marriage. Let me begin by telling a story:

Once upon a time a good man; a man of character and fortune, a man of excellent reputation and wisdom, a man of authority, of royalty, asked a common, shamed, foreign woman to marry him. Her response was an affectionate but flighty, “Yes. But only on my own terms, I want to keep my old habits, my own hours and friends, dirty up the mansion, remain unrefined and by the way keep a few boy friends on the side.” She was the worst kind of fool. He set his terms; an exclusive relationship. She refused. But he was patient; he overcame her fears and payed off her debts. Eventually she came to love him and realize the worth he was offering to her. She woke up from her stupor, realized her pitiful state, and embraced the love of her generous suitor, too thankful to be ashamed.

Will we embrace the proposal of such a groom as Jesus or in return for his gracious payment of our sin debt will we flaunt our sin and other lovers in his face? God offers his church transformation, to be made into a radiant bride. A commoner turned princess couldn't undergo a more complete makeover and yet so often we as people and churches insist on remaining a filthy tramp as long as we can get our hands on some of the good stuff like grace, mercy, forgiveness, and oh yeah, love. The problem is the bride is operating under a lie; mercy doesn't come without repentance, or grace without humility.

And the most shocking thing of all? The bride has missed out on the greatest of the wedding gifts, union. The Prince has offered to make her in every reality one with himself, sharing his title, his status, his power, authority and wealth in every way. He's willing to hand over the signet ring for her to use in his name. Love, mercy, and grace aren't an end in themselves they are a means to an end, they are the nature and method in which complete union takes place. But these are the terms; the tramp must transform into a princess. He's willing to pay for the transformation, but she has to agree to it.

God has, from the moment of creation, gifted us with the picture of unity through marriage. The image of a bride and her Husband has been painted from Genesis to Revelation. Understanding the significance of being united with God illuminates the high value of marriage, likewise the union of marriage points back to the gracious gift of Jesus' union with the church. God structured a man and woman's relationship with each other to best reflect his character to us.

Thankfully purity is not a prerequisite of our union with Jesus, but it is a hallmark of it. Jesus knows exactly who he is offering himself to be united to; sinners. He's not shocked and his love is not overwhelmed. He offers himself to make his chosen one pure. His blood, his own righteousness, is the purifying agent. Jesus draws his bride to himself and away from other lovers, making her holy, which essentially means set apart for his own purpose. But then, once she is clean and has accepted the terms of his marriage proposal, he expects purity. And he should, it's only fitting. 

Why is the picture of marriage so sacred? Because nothing on earth depicts the union of Jesus to his beloved bride, the church, like a husband and wife do. Unity is the crux of the gospel and I wonder if we regularly miss the significance of that. I know I have. At the heart of God, at the heart of humanity, at the heart of relationship, at the heart of the gospel, at the heart of the bible, at the heart of the New Heaven and the New Earth (our eternal home, Rev. 21) is unity. At the fall unity with God and each other was broken, at the cross it was restored, in heaven it's consummated. "He made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times reach their fulfillment —to bring unity to all things in heaven and on earth under Christ." Ephesians 1:9-10

One day Jesus will sit down to feast with his bride at his wedding banquet. To have the Creator of the universe, the holy eternal God willingly offer to make us one with him is a scandalous grace. But he never said we could come on our terms, he expects full and total surrender. His love is a willingness to transform and redeem at a high cost to himself. His gift is generous beyond comprehension and available if we are willing to die to our own glory and live for his alone. What a joyful people we should be, united to our Beloved, loved beyond what we can even comprehend!

Let's consider how we can honor our marriages as the holy picture of divine unity that they are. Our hungry, fainting world needs the hope such truth can provide. 

Anticipation

I've been in a quiet, contemplative, prayerful place for the last week. I posted this as a facebook status last Thursday and it describes my heart well:

Sometimes wrestling with God leaves me limping, tender footed, and quiet. The hours spent in the vice grip of truth, seeking God's face, takes it's toll on my blustery confidence. I put my hand over my mouth, and walk out humbly. Aware that my confidence can only be in God's righteousness and never my own.

This week I'm praying to walk out in the confidence of God's truth and grace in my life. I'm living in a sense of anticipation. One thing I'm anticipating is a birth. Not a new baby in my family or friend circle, but a spiritual birth. My neighbor shows signs of being ready to be born into new life and I'm praying God will use me as an effective midwife. I'm praying to love her and her family with a compelling, honest, attractive love. I'm praying the Holy Spirit opens her heart to truth.

I offer her summer squash and a bible, both wrapped in life giving prayers. I've never witnessed a death to life, first gulps of grace, birth. But I imagine just like any baby's birth it's messy and bloody and there's crying and celebrating and the soft hush of the miraculous.

What are you anticipating this week? Do you expect the miraculous? Where do you hope to see truth born out in grace?

Adventures in Gardening ~ Seeds

Today little seeds sleep in the dirt of my garden, tucked in the soil, I watch and wait patiently for signs of life. Isn't that so like the seeds of truth we sow in hearts. Those seeds are watered by the Word of God, the sunshine of grace falls warmly, the soil of love nourishes. We patiently, watchfully, prayerfully wait.

It's true in our own lives as well. Sometimes God reminds us of one of his promises, or we're convicted anew by truth we had forgotten or ignored. At first we may not see life springing up in us, or those around us. But the seed of promise grows as we hold fast in faith. The Gardener tends our hearts, pulling out lies, fertilizing with difficult life circumstances, watering with his life giving Word, and the seed begins to grow. Little leaves of hope and joy, faith and obedience poke their heads from the soil of love and flourish.

Patience produces a garden of love, a place of intimacy to walk with the Author of Love; a crop of love to nourish the hearts of the church.

"(Groom) I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk. (Friends) Eat, friends, and drink; drink your fill of love." Song of Song 5:1

Today let's purpose to water the seeds of truth planted deep in our own hearts, and the hearts of our brothers and sisters, to partner with the Gardener in faith. Let's look forward to a bounty of love. How can I pray for you as you hold on to hope?

Satisfied by Love

On waves of velvety darkness swells a deep thrumming tone, a rhythm and cadence, rising and falling. A voice, is it a voice? "You're beautiful." A whisper, an echo?

But an icy darkness clutches my chest and I can't believe. Or is it refuse? Smaller voices contradict. "Not enough, fool, unloved, boring, failure, fake, cheap, fraud, silly, dreamer, forgotten, uninvited," the hot words lick like fire, hissing in my ear. A raw ache buried deep down aches like a wound.

Glittering grace drips from my fingers. Like a child bored with a day old toy I toss it aside for something different. Even as I reach for fire, deep and steady I hear the pulse rumble, reminding me of the lullaby a child hears in it's mother's womb. Tucked snug under her heart, soothed by her body's life song. I feel it in my feet, like it's coming from underground, the air shimmers hot and yet it resonates from far away. "You are beautiful."

My eyes peal away from small, ordinary people; great big larger than life people; tiny hidden forgotten people. And I concentrate on the sound. My head cock's like a greedy robin, searching for a meal. I hear it, hum loudly in the vibrations of the earth, crashing like cymbals on sandy shores, pealing like a bell from stormy skies. "Fearfully, wonderfully, you." I strain my ears for more.

"The Lord your God in your midst,
The Mighty One, will save;
He will rejoice over you with gladness,
He will quiet you with His love,
He will rejoice over you with singing."

Zephaniah 3:17

I pray today you and I embrace the truth of God's word concerning us instead of fighting it; saved, loved, at peace, sought, HIS.

Adventures in Gardening ~ Soil

Here in the mild coastal south it's time to get ready for growing. I'm so tickled this year to have my own little garden to tend. Everyone in the family has picked an item to plant and my Maggie girl is thrilled to have a reason to play in the dirt. I am too honestly!

Today a rectangle of rich Alabama soil was tilled in our backyard. The pungent fragrance of rich, dark soil filled my lungs and begged me to get my hands dirty. It was invigorating! Mild and overcast, we worked in a fine mist all day.

Maggie and I worked at raking the grass clumps out of the loosened soil, she was a marvelous help. Along with grass we also found worms, grubs, a cricket and a spider hiding in the fresh turned earth. We cleaned out almost a third; it will take us the rest of the week to clear the grass out of the dirt.

As I was handling the dirt and thinking of all the wonderful things I plan to grow, imagining tiny shoots and later sturdy plants living in that soil, I asked God to teach me. Participating in the rhythm of the created order of things is an opportunity to be inspired by a tangible picture of God's overarching truth.

I was struck today by the fundamental truth that what we root ourselves in matters. Good soil matters, it will effect what grows. Taking the time to remove the grass, fertilize, mix lime in my garden will impact my harvest. I believe that's true of us as well.

"And now, just as you accepted Christ Jesus as your Lord, you must continue to follow him. Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness." Colossians 2:6-7

It matters if our lives are rooted in truth, the person of Jesus. It matters if we water our faith with prayer and the Word. The fruit of our lives will be a thankful heart and all kinds of good things growing out of our salvation. Others will be nourished and God will be glorified.

Of course if I'm lazy about my garden, both the spiritual and physical, the result will be quite different. What is your heart rooted in? Is it the rich soil of Jesus, I pray so. Let's allow him to remove the lies that choke the truth from our lives and feed us with his very own self so that we grow strong. I'm looking forward to sharing more about the truth God teaches me on this gardening adventure!