Friday, March 30, 2018

Good Friday

The sermon I heard at the Maundy Thursday service last night and the devotional I read this Good Friday morning both painted a picture of the ugliness of sin in the face of the beautiful holiness of our God. The world we live in is the result of our selfish desires having been given full rein; the evil, hatred, violence, disrespect and animosity we see day in and day out are difficult to describe. Just as the prophets had trouble describing the glorious visions of the heavenly throne room, the Lord seated on his throne and the mighty angelic presence surrounding him, there simply are no words to describe the indescribable. 

We are so immersed in the disturbing images and news of this world that, probably to save our sanity, we are becoming sort of numb to it all. How do we grasp the seriousness of our sin, the level of darkness we’re living in? What drives us to our Savior and his glorious light that delivers us from all the darkness and sin? One of my (many) favorite verses in John’s gospel is verse 5: The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. Darkness cannot overcome the light - it’s simply impossible; light a candle in a dark room if you need a quick reminder. When we get overwhelmed with how bad things are in this world, when it seems that the darkness is winning, read John 1:5 again. And again.

But the root of the problem, the source of the darkness, is sin. How can we truly turn from sin and turn to God without realizing the ugliness of our sin? How do we turn to God without seeing the beauty of his holiness and the power of his love? How do we walk out of the darkness into the light without seeing the light inviting us? Sin blinds us to the truth of who Jesus is and it blinds us to the truth of what sin is. Human beings are masters at justifying wrong choices! We can so easily make excuses for the choices we make until we become so embroiled in the lies that we can’t see the truth. What a mess we are!

But Jesus came into this world - this mess - to show us what love looks like, to show us the Father’s heart for this fallen world. He lived, he breathed, he walked among us, he laughed, he cried, he celebrated, he mourned and every day showed us the Father’s love for each one of us. My devotional this morning referred to Jesus’ “embarrassing choice of companions”. That would be us. But, he loves us, he really wants to be with us and he never gives up on us. 

The season of Lent and maybe especially Holy Week, allow us opportunities to see what sin looks like - to see the cost of our sin. It cost the life of our Lord and Savior. God chose to die because of his unending love for his “embarrassing choice of companions”. He who created us, knows us inside and out, calls us each by name, and sees every dark corner of sin in our hearts, loves us beyond measure - even to the point of dying for us. 

I can’t bear to watch scenes from movies that depict the hours leading up to and including the crucifixion of Jesus. I can’t bear to watch the re-enactment, yet Jesus endured the reality of all that horror. Just for me. And you. And all the rest of this world full of “embarrassing companions”. Truly the most amazing love we can ever know.


Tuesday, March 27, 2018

A New Focus

I read an Oswald Chambers devotional this morning that referenced Luke 14:28: For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it? The devotional goes on to explain that the cost is not ours to count but has already been counted and paid by Jesus in his life, ministry and death on the cross. 

A lot of us who are Christians (myself included) talk a lot about counting the cost of discipleship, about taking up our cross, or referring to something as our cross to bear; but I don’t know that I think of all this in the terms described by Oswald Chambers in this morning’s reading. I don’t know the theology behind this, but perhaps taking up our cross has more to do with being crucified with Christ: I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (Gal. 2:20)

My life - the life I live as a believer and follower of Jesus - is, or should be, all about responding to what Jesus did, once for all. I need to retrain my thoughts! Instead of feeling the burden of “counting the cost”, I should remember that a present difficulty or trial has been dealt with on the cross. Then, instead of focusing on that current situation, turn my eyes to Jesus and thank him for what he has done and for what he is doing and will do in and through those circumstances. That’s his promise - he will never leave me or forsake me. He has promised that in all things he works for the good in my life. If I think in terms of the self-sacrifice being made in the name of discipleship, I’m missing the ultimate sacrifice that Jesus made. My focus is on me and not on the Lord. 

Even as I write this, I’m realizing how easily I’ve been fooled into accepting as truth something that is actually a very wrong way of thinking. It’s just like the serpent in the garden with Eve, twisting the words of the Lord. The test for right or wrong thinking in regards to Christian living, is to ask who’s getting the glory. At the heart of my “old” thinking, was self: MY cross to bear, MY sacrifice. 

We do make sacrifices of our time and convenience and other things as we serve the Lord; but are those sacrifices pointing to Jesus or to me? Who’s getting the glory? Am I, as Paul wrote to the Galatians, living my life in the flesh or by faith in Jesus? Am I making those sacrifices as an offering of thanks and love in response to the Lord? Do you see the subtle shift, the difference in focus? 

We are in the last days of Lent - Holy Week - remembering and re-visiting the days leading up to and including Jesus’ crucifixion, death and resurrection. What a perfect time to sit with and pray the words from Psalm 139: 
Search me, O God, and know my heart. 
Try me and know my thoughts!
And see if there be any grievous way in me,
    and lead me in the way everlasting

Guard my thoughts, Lord. Reveal the subtle ways my thoughts go astray and keep my eyes turned to you, looking to you as my all in all, the sufficiency for all my needs. Thank you Lord that you and you alone are worthy of all glory and honor.



Friday, March 16, 2018

What Does Love Look Like?

As I wrote in my previous post, I’m in a new season of my walk with the Lord - a season of rest and restoration. A dear friend gave me the idea of looking at the definition of the word ‘restoration’ through the eyes of faith. A very interesting and worthwhile idea! Here’s what I found:

  • Bring back into existence, use or the like; reestablish
  • Bring back to a former, original or normal condition
  • Bring back to a state of health, soundness or vigor
  • Put back to a former place, or to a former position / rank
  • To give back, make return or restitution of anything taken away or lost
  • To reproduce or reconstruct (an ancient building, extinct animal, etc.) in the original state
  • Synonyms: mend, replace, reinstate, rebuild
Isn’t that great? As I re-read that list this morning, it made me so aware of the incredible love that’s behind this work of the Lord. How thankful I am to be so loved - so well loved and cared for! I have no idea how long this season will last nor do I need to know. I am aware of my spiritual ‘dryness’ - a loss of the joy of my salvation (Ps. 51:12), that feeling of lightness instead of the feeling of being weighed down by the things I’m not even meant to be carrying around on my shoulders. I am also very aware of the deep sense of peace and knowledge of the presence of the Lord with me and for that I’m so very thankful!

I know that this new season of my life is a gift - a very precious gift - and I’m so thankful that the Lord is leading me and guiding me as I walk this out and watch him at work restoring my soul (Ps. 23). How amazing is the love of our Lord! This is what that love looks like: that my heavenly Father, knowing my needs before I know them myself, is taking care of me - healing, bringing rest and restoration, attending to the health of my soul. What a loving Father. What a tender Shepherd. What a blessing to be loved like this. And what a powerful and wonderful truth to just live into and experience. I know that as I continue to let this truth, this reality of God’s love, soak into my mind and heart, the promised restoration has begun. Thanks be to God for his amazing love and presence for and with us, his children.




Monday, March 5, 2018

Baby Steps

I've been thinking about serving and offerings this morning. We offer our selves, our souls, our bodies, our time, our talents to the Lord. In Exodus, the Israelites were invited to bring what they had to offer to construct the temple and its furnishings. There were offerings of talent and skill as well as materials. These weren't forced offerings, but offerings of the heart. They gave until the supply far exceeded the need. And what about the widow's offering in the temple (Mark 12)? Her act was held up by Jesus because she gave from her heart and, meager though it was, the generosity of her offering was praised and immortalized. Then there are the two accounts of the fishes and the loaves. Another small quantity in the face of a large need but the Lord multiplied the offerings and they far exceeded what was needed. 


This all came to mind in response to my sense that the Lord is calling me to a season of rest and restoration. The doubts and questions and guilty thoughts are roaring around in my brain. I catch myself asking if I'm doing enough. What if I'm supposed to be doing more? What if I'm not doing enough? What if I'm not living up to the expectations of my heavenly Father? What if I'm supposed to push through this season of weariness and learn about "perseverance" and "faithfulness in times of trial"? Lord have mercy! I recognize this lie! How many of us live under the need to prove ourselves worthy of God's love and acceptance thinking we have to earn what God has so freely given? That trap of "if I do this, then ...." I thought that old lie was buried a long time ago but it's rearing up it's ugly little head again!

As I sat with all these thoughts and questions, the instances above came to mind. Did the Lord refuse to accept the fishes and loaves with a "you can do better than that" response? Or what about the widow? No! He graciously, appreciatively, and lovingly responded to those offerings and blessed them. He multiplied them. 

Our Lord invites us to rest in him and with him, to allow him to shoulder our burdens as we are joined with him as a team, working, walking and resting side by side. Rest is so important and a sabbath rest is a commandment. After Jesus sent the disciples out two by two, they returned full of the news of the events of their mission. Did he pat them on the back and say, "Get on back out there and see how many more people you can meet"? Thankfully, no! Jesus' response was to invite them to come away with him to a quiet place and get some rest. We serve him out of the fullness of his presence not out of the draining supplies of our own resources.

I believe I'm entering this season with little baby steps but the sense I have is that this is what's being asked of me. Take the first step. Watch and wait. Trust that the Lord's plans and purposes are, as always, good and right. I think that it's perfectly ok to feel uncertain; I'm taking a baby step away from a very familiar pattern or comfort zone. And if there's one thing I've learned in my years of following Jesus, if I start feeling like I'm pitching my tent in a comfort zone, I can expect to have that situation changed. Comfort zones (for me) imply that I've got everything under control and am doing just fine, thank you very much. Ha!! Look at who thinks she's in control! Thank you, Lord, for booting me out of that place of wrong thinking - the sin of self, of pride. No wonder I'm balking at this new direction; I'm having to let go. Fortunately, I have a long history of seeing the Lord reveal his love, provision and blessing when I just let go and let him do his work. I will trust him on this next new path.







Saturday, March 3, 2018

God's Presence

My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest. (Exodus 33:14)

The past week has been hard. I don't know what has caused the swelling and pain in my leg but I know how uncomfortable I've been, how confined to one place and how limited my mobility has been. I've needed help with the simplest tasks and have been unable to live my normal, busy life - no driving, having to work from my bedroom rather than the office, relying on someone to do things for me - not my norm, to say the least. It's only been a week. There are people with far more debilitating conditions for far longer periods of time. I'm not being a good patient. I'm not being patient in this whatever-it-is kind of season. 

It seems that in my part of this world, there is an awful lot of suffering and I'm weary with it. What's going on Lord? What is the lesson in all of this? My prayer list is getting longer and longer and the needs are great: loss of loved ones, unemployment, financial difficulties, sickness, age-related mental and physical disabilities. All are challenges and raise the ultimate question of "Where is God in all this?" In all honesty, I do know where God is in all this; I couldn't pray for the dear ones on my list, trust and hope that this is a season and not a 'forever thing' without God - without the knowledge that the Lord I love is a very present help in times of trouble. He is near to the broken-hearted, he is Jehovah Rapha - the God who heals; he comforts those who mourn, he's with me in these wee hours of the morning when I can't sleep because of my own discomfort. 

I think we miss the extent of God's presence with us in our suffering, we miss some of the message of the cross. There is no length to which the Lord will not go to reach his child who is suffering, lost, being led astray. Look at the cross. We pray for the Lord to have mercy, we pray for justice, we pray for healing, forgiveness, redemption, salvation. Is there a shadow over our prayers? Are we praying those things fully expecting the Lord to answer our prayers or are they words that we're not sure are being heard? Look at the cross. 

I picked up one of my devotionals as I was dealing with my sleeplessness and read the verse above from Exodus. The Lord's presence is with me. Even in my sleeplessness he will give me rest: physical rest, hopefully, but spiritual rest and peace in my soul in the midst of my worries and concerns for myself and for those near to me for whom I'm praying. I cannot imagine a life apart from the presence of God. The emptiness, hopelessness and loneliness is beyond my imagination. What must it have been like for our Lord Jesus to experience that separation from his Father as he bore our sins on that cross? The one who knows his Father so intimately, so perfectly, in such unity of personhood experienced the loss of that as he became sin in order to restore us to our Father. 

My pitiful complaints at 2:30 in the morning pale in comparison but the fact remains, they're real and they're important and they're not going unnoticed. The Lord has promised his presence will be with me - and it is. The Lord has promised he will give me rest - and he will, he is. 

1 O Lord, you have searched me and known me!
2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
    you discern my thoughts from afar.
3 You search out my path and my lying down
    and are acquainted with all my ways.
4 Even before a word is on my tongue,
    behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
5 You hem me in, behind and before,
    and lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
    it is high; I cannot attain it.
7 Where shall I go from your Spirit?    
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
    If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
9 If I take the wings of the morning
    and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
10 even there your hand shall lead me,
    and your right hand shall hold me.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
    and the light about me be night,”
12 even the darkness is not dark to you;
    the night is bright as the day,
    for darkness is as light with you. (Ps. 139)