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.

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.

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.

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)

Reaching Out

Mark 5:25-34  And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, 26 and who had suffered much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was no better but rather grew worse. 27 She had heard the reports about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment. 28 For she said, “If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.” 29 And immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. 30 And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone out from him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my garments?” 31 And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing around you, and yet you say, ‘Who touched me?’” 32 And he looked around to see who had done it. 33 But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling and fell down before him and told him the whole truth. 34 And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”

Such a familiar passage - I have no idea how many times I’ve read it or heard sermons preached on it. But this morning, as is the way with God’s word, something hit me a little differently. I thought about this woman and how desperate she was, how long she had suffered. But, what gave her the idea that simply touching the hem of Jesus’ clothes would bring her healing? Why would anyone even think such a thing was possible? I believe she saw Jesus - saw him in a way that others did not; and, to this day, still do not! She must have seen his power, his holiness to such a degree that she somehow knew that even the clothes on his back were infused with this power. 

What does it take to recognize that? I ask that question of myself! I want to have the faith of this woman - the sight that she had. I want to see Jesus’ holiness and power the way she did. I think, if I had been her, I would have been so desperate for healing that my touch of his garment would have been more like a grab - something to get Jesus to stop, turn around and pay attention to me. But this lady was so broken, so wounded; as the outcast in her world - unclean because of her disease - she was completely separated from her community. She didn’t want to be noticed. She felt unworthy to even approach Jesus face to face so she crept up from behind and below, so very hesitant but so full of the awareness of this power-filled man in front of her. She reached out and touched the hem as he passed by. How amazing!

No matter what we’re dealing with, all we have to muster up is enough strength to reach out - just enough to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment. He knows our touch. He knew that power had gone out of him as soon as the woman touched his clothes. He knows. He sees. He responds. His power was released into her life just as in ours. He heals, restores, touches; his healing power is his love, poured out into our lives. Our meager, weak reach is answered by the greatest power in the universe - the Word of Life, God himself, reaching out to his. He calls us his son or daughter and brings life and wholeness into those broken, dis-eased places. Our tentative reaching out is acknowledged and responded to with “immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine” (Eph. 3:20).

I pray we can all have the faith and hope that this dear woman exhibited and that, no matter what we’re dealing with, can reach out to our Lord and watch as we responds to us in the power of his love.

Refuge

But let all who take refuge in you rejoice; let them ever sing for joy, and spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may exult in you. For you bless the righteous, O LORD; you cover him with favor as with a shield. (Psalm 5:11-12 ESV)


Reading these two verses, I reflected on what it meant to take refuge in the Lord. We're given the promise of joy, protection, blessing, God's favor that covers us like a shield. That's a lot to take in. I felt the need to ask the Lord to continue to teach me how to take refuge in him and to be mindful of when I needed to seek that refuge. That gave me pause - do I realize that need? How long does it take me to finally recognize my desperate need for the peace of God? In the stresses and busy-ness of life, we keep trudging along taking care of what needs to be done and before we realize it, we're like that proverbial frog in the pot of water with the temperature rising gradually to the boiling point. That's such a terrible image but isn't it true for the way we approach the hard / sad / trying / stressful times of life? What does it take for us to admit we can't handle things on our own and, in fact, were never meant to?

In times of crisis, we can seek refuge in God. We can draw near to him, set aside time to just be in his presence - with or without words - and know that we're right where we need to be. In that place of refuge, we're protected. That protection is described as a covering spread over us and also like a shield guarding us. In that place of comfort and safety, we know God's favor, we can experience joy and rejoicing even in the midst of our crisis. We can take sanctuary in the presence of God and watch him work through the trials and crises of life to bring us into a deeper awareness of his power, his watchfulness over us, and his loving intentions and attentions towards those who love his name.

It's About Prayer

What Do We Believe About Prayer?

It’s boring . . . . . One-sided. . . . . Lots of words . . . . . Have to put on our ‘holy face’ – get it just right . . . . . Some people are better at it than others . . . . . We do it on Sunday mornings – otherwise, in emergencies or when we need something . . . . .  ‘Good thoughts’ sent out into the universe . . . .

What Is It?

Communication, conversation that springs from relationship . . . . . Natural . . . . . Easy . . . . . Continuous . . . . . . Two-sided – speaking and listening . . . . . Always heard and answered . . . . . Love . . . . . Real . . . . . Honest . . . . . Raw . . . . . Sweet . . . .

Why do we struggle so with prayer? Because relationships take work – sometimes hard work – and maybe we imagine prayer to be like dropping a penny into a wishing well and waiting for our wish to come true when, instead, God calls us to enter into relationship, to do the hard work that relationships take, to get to know our Lord and Saviour.

And that ‘getting to know’ part? That means all the parts of us that we’d rather people not know about.  Our Lord sees and knows all those parts, all of us – warts and all. And he loves us totally, unconditionally, and eternally. Is that scary? I think so - perhaps because it’s too hard to believe and too good to be true. There’s got to be some part of us that when it’s revealed will be too much, will tip the scales in the other direction. We dare not get too close, dare not open ourselves too much; therefore, we approach God with our prayers and we offer them the way we think they should be offered – make sure the words are right, that we’re ‘holy’ enough – because if we said the things that were really on our heart, that bolt of heavenly lightening would come crashing down and obliterate us. Well, maybe not that extreme but there’s a certain amount of fear that, I think, prevents us from being completely open and honest with our prayers.

Think about your best relationships – friendships, family members, your spouse – the ones with whom you can be totally honest. We don’t have to put on a certain face for those people. When we’re mad, we show it. When we’re excited, we jump up and down, laugh and celebrate together. When we’re sad, these are the people that will hold us and cry with us. If we’re afraid or worried, they’re the ones we can call at any hour and ask for help.

Why not God? Our God, who became man and came to this earth to walk with us, eat, sleep, laugh, cry, celebrate, mourn, worry, be afraid – shares every emotion with us. Jesus gets us – he totally knows what we go through because he went through all that and more. Why can’t we go to him with all our stuff?

Any relationship that’s worth anything is an authentic one. Perhaps prayer is, in its simplest terms, an invitation from God to get to know him better, to learn to trust him and to grow in our ability to let go of our fear and guardedness and just be --- our true, real, authentic self. The psalmist wrote, Be still and know that I am God. It’s a useful exercise to meditate on each one of those words – one at the time. I think it sums up what I’m trying to express:

Be

Be still

Be still and know

Be still and know … I AM

Be still and know that I am God

I don’t presume to have all the answers but I value the prayer lessons I’ve learned by struggling through, asking the questions, getting mad some of the time, asking “WHY?” a lot of times, learning to trust, learning to wait, learning to watch, and seeing prayers answered in ways I could never have imagined. And in the process of all that, I’ve come to know Jesus in a way that astounds me.

His name was the first name cried out when my car was spinning out of control at 70mph two weeks ago after being hit by another car. His name was the first name I gave thanks to when the car stopped and I was ok. His name is the first name I think of when I look at my beautiful grandson take his first steps and when I give thanks for the wonderful people I’m blessed to call my friends and family. The more I’ve spent time with him, gotten to know him, grown in relationship with him, the more my thoughts throughout the day-to-day stuff of life become conversational and prayerful. Maybe that’s what Paul meant when he wrote, Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 ESV)

Prayer, like our best relationships, is a journey of discovery. It’s a journey I invite and encourage you to begin and continue  -- and be blessed.