Conviction

Saturday morning in my jammies, drinking coffee, reading about Old Testament history and the sins and missteps of the tribes of Israel. One of those mornings I love to savor until the to-do list has to be taken care of.

I was tempted to keep reading in 1 Kings today because I hadn't read very far, when I remembered someone long ago suggesting that my time in Scripture should last until God stops me. He stopped me and had me scratching my head and searching my heart within just a couple of chapters today.

In 1 Kings 13 there is a man of God who comes to give King Jeroboam kind of a scary prophecy. The prophecy is not favorable to the king so he tells his guards to seize the man of God, and when he points at the culprit, his hand shrivels up. (Don't you love this stuff!?) "AAAHHH! Pray for me and heal my hand!" the king yells. (Wildly paraphrased by me)

He does; it heals; the king invites the man of God for dinner. (again, not a word for word translation, you understand)

"No can do," says the man. "You can offer me anything, but I've been told by God not to eat or drink anything on this mission. And I have to listen to God's instructions."

That was my first pause. What conviction, I thought. I will not be swayed by the king himself. I won't let power or influence or reward to sway me from listening to and obeying what God has said. I want to be like that.

Read on.

The king sends a guy after him, who also invites him home to eat. And again, the man of God sticks to his guns and says he can't eat or drink on his mission from God. (Is this where Dan Akroyd and John Belushi got their phrase?)

Never mind, says prophet #2. God told me you're supposed to come back with me and eat and drink with me at my house.

Ok, says prophet #1. He goes back and eats at prophet #2's house, leaves and gets mauled and killed by a lion on the way home because he disobeyed. You just can't make this stuff up, I tell you.

Prophet #2 gets wind of the tragedy and says, "Yep. Look what happened because he didn't obey God. Poor guy. Let's bury him."

The story made me think about the strength of my convictions and where they come from. If the man of God in this story had strong enough conviction to say no to the king, what or who finally wore him down to a place of disobedience? And what was it like to feel that surge of conviction and God-confidence in the first place? Finally, how careful do I need to be when tossing out the words, "God told me..."?

I can tell you that I long for a deep sense of conviction that comes from God in my life. How glorious to have heard His voice so clearly that I can have an inner, resounding, "Yes!" from him to propel me in my daily actions and life's purpose. I also know that it doesn't take much for me to waver in that. To wonder if it really was God after all. To question the wisdom, convenience or timing of it all. Truth be known, I probably would have caved in front of the king.

But sometimes I feel so superior in my spirituality that I want to make others question their own convictions. It doesn't make sense to me, so I say, "Did God really say that to you?" Huh. That's what Satan said to Eve in the garden. Real spiritual...

So my takeaway this morning, as I realize I simply MUST get dressed and be on with my day, is that I'm going to boldly ask God for conviction. To hear His voice. And for the inner fortitude, through the power of the Holy Spirit, not to be swayed.

And that I will have the grace and humility to trust that God is speaking to other people, too. And that Jesus died for them, too. And forgives them, too. It's not just about me. Ouch.

Lord, would you speak clearly to my heart and give me bold conviction to follow where you lead. Amen.

Lesson of the week: how an overflowing toilet and a lying teen have humbled me and reminded me of God's perspective.

We bought a new house. Which is really an old house. We are having a lot of work done: painting, two-sided fireplace put in, new shower in a bathroom, and various repairs that are too tedious to mention. All this is happening before we move in, so periodically (read: daily) I go over to see the progress. Yesterday I saw things coming together in a way that made me think we actually could live in this house. 

While I was talking to my painter in the living room, he noticed that the carpet he was standing on was wet. We traced the source of water to an overflowing toilet on the other side of the wall, where the bathroom floor was a vast puddle and the water had found its way under the wall into the carpeted living room. Panic ensued. 

After the water had been turned off, the mess cleaned up, and fans set up to dry the carpet, I left workers in place to continue progress on the rest of what needed to be done. 

Later that day our family had a gathering of sorts around some discrepancies in teen story-telling. (Read: lying) No matter what the infraction, I find that these issues are heart-breaking, and I've tried to explain to our son that when you lie to someone, it makes all the good in that relationship feel like manipulation, at worst, or questionable, at best. 

So I cried a lot yesterday.

Then, this morning, as I continued my slow trek through Isaiah, praying for my son, and wondering if we've made a mistake with him, the house, or other things, I saw the blue highlighted words through the chapters that indicate qualities and names of God. I was reminded that God is:

- The LORD my Maker

- Sovereign LORD

- My Redeemer

- The LORD Almighty

- The first and the last

- A righteous God and Savior

- My King

- The Holy One

There may or may not be a lesson in or a reason for our suffering, as it were. A sin to confront. Character to build. Stories to share. But I do know that God wants to be found, He wants to be known, and He WILL be glorified. 

I'm reminded that He loves me and is high and lifted up, seated on His throne, ruling the universe and my crazy little life. He sees my tears and hears my voice. And He transcends it all. And He says, 

"I, even I, am he who comforts you." (Isaiah 51:12) 

Yes, and amen. 

"Let him who walks in the dark, who has no light, trust in the name of the LORD and rely on his God." (Isaiah 50:10)

Over two hours in the dentist's chair today.

Awesome. (Another well-deserved shout out to Dr. Yang!)

I had a couple of crowns replaced, one of which was the right front tooth. It's been needing work for a while - 20+ years, to be exact - and today was the day.

Back in 4th grade I hit this tooth on the bottom of the swimming pool while trying to show off for a friend and do a smiling back flip under water. (I know. Whatever you're thinking, my mom has probably brought to my attention. And now that I'm a mother...well...)

Anyway, I lived most of my adolescence with this slightly shorter front tooth to tide me over until I could get a "grown-up" crown. One day, in Seymour, Indiana, between 1989 and 1991, I did just that.

And it was a fine tooth. Shiny porcelain that introduced my smile to many new acquaintances. But over time my gums receded, revealing the black metal beneath the porcelain at the gum line, and I couldn't bleach it like the rest of my teeth, so it took on a recent buttery shade. Considerably less attractive.

Today I got a new crown. It's temporary, but it's already so much better than my old one!

Before I could see this beauty, however, the old crown had to be sawed in pieces by a diamond drill and cracked off my real tooth, which was lurking beneath the surface.

What did that look like?

I should never have asked to see it.

Have you seen versions of Snow White's witch?

That's pretty close.

A short, narrow, brown stump is what I have for a front tooth in reality. It was horrifying. Like an Appalachian witchy woman, grinning over her cauldron at the entrance to her cave.

But that's my real tooth. This creamy white temporary crown isn't me. It's the beautiful cover my dentist put there.

A crown I couldn't have applied myself.

A crown that covers a rotting (or so it appeared), shriveled stump that has become useless and appalling.

"That's good to remember, when I'm tempted to get cocky about my beautiful smile!" I thought to myself, while admiring my new crown in the mirror this evening.

Then it occurred to me that this crown is just like what Jesus did for my sinful nature when He took my sin upon Himself on the cross.

He covered my sin with His spotless life. A beautiful crown, a white covering, a righteousness I did nothing to earn and couldn't possibly have provided for myself.

The prophet Isaiah said this:

“Come now, let us reason together,”
    says the Lord.
“Though your sins are like scarlet,
  they shall be as white as snow,
though they are red as crimson,
they shall be like wool. (Isaiah 1:18)

Our sin has been washed away by the perfect sacrifice of Christ. We did nothing to earn it. We can't do anything to keep it. So I can be comfortable revealing my weaknesses and my sin because we all have it! Why would I pretend this beauty that covers me is mine?! 

I have a brown stump for a tooth, and I'm not ashamed to admit it! 

And I have a Savior who has washed away my sin and given me a righteousness I don't deserve. 

My sins were as scarlet; now they're as white as snow!

Thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ!

Fear and Splendor

While beginning another trek through the prophet Isaiah last week, I took note of some powerful imagery in chapter 2. Now, I like the major prophets as much as the next gal, but sometimes the fire and brimstone imagery is a bit of a downer, I find. This beginning section was no exception:

"Go into the rocks, 

hide in the ground

from the dread of the LORD

and the splendor of his majesty!" (Isaiah 2:10)

The updated version of the NIV says, "from the fearful presence of the LORD", and the ESV calls it "the terror of the LORD".

I couldn't help but wonder who these unfortunate people are who have to fear and hide from God. The heading of Isaiah 2:6-22 is "The Day of the LORD", which usually describes something pretty dramatic, if I understand a lot of the Bible right. But the stunning thing about this verse wasn't the specific dramatic imagery here as much as it was the exact repetition of the phrase again in verses 19 and 21. I wrote in the margin of verse 2, "You can't handle the power and beauty of God!" and I still think that's the case. Let's call that the Holy Spirit's primary revelation to me that morning. God is too much for mere mortals to comprehend. 

When I read the rest of chapter 2 and saw those aspects of fear and hiding repeated, God's Spirit started to reveal something else to me. Descriptions of those who are going to have to hide and fear the presence of the LORD are sprinkled throughout this chapter. They are "the proud and lofty", and those who "bow down to the work of their hands, to what their fingers have made". Umm... that's me, if I'm being completely honest. And other places in Scripture point to the fact that there will be those who experience God's wrath during the day of the LORD, at some point in the future. But I didn't feel threatened or afraid, despite my acute awareness of these shortcomings.

I relate to the places in Scripture that talk about longing to come into God's Presence, not running away from it. The spots that elicit joy and comfort in being with God, protected and loved. What's the difference?

This is when I had my epiphany.

I wrote in the margin after verse 21: "I want to stand in confident awe in your presence, Lord. To experience the dread of the Lord and the splendor of your majesty." I know my sin and that I'm not at all worthy to stand in God's presence on my own. But I read these verses and they are, in my life, inextricably linked with these:

"Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water." (Hebrews 10:19-21)

I can run to God and not from the terror of His presence because of Jesus!

I can "approach the throne of grace with confidence" (Heb. 4:16) because Jesus paid the price for my sin and took God's wrath from me onto Himself. I can draw near to God - not run from Him - because the blood of Jesus sprinkled our hearts and cleansed us from ALL unrighteousness, so we can have full assurance of faith, based on HIS work and righteousness, not our own. 

I can experience a balance of assurance and awe. Freedom and fear. 

Author Francis Chan says,  “...when we love God, we naturally run to Him-frequently and zealously."

I heard another author say something about our only refuge from God being in God. And I think the combination of these ideas, albeit somewhat counterintuitive, is right. Yes, a parent will discipline a child he loves and the child wants to run away from the discipline when he's disobeyed. But there is also great joy and safety in knowing that same parent will protect the child and provide for him with all his energy out of fierce love. 

It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God, says the author of Hebrews (10:31). Thanks be to God for Jesus Christ, who made a way for us to stand in His presence in full assurance of faith because of His great love and sacrifice. He has redeemed us from God's wrath and brought us into His family as sons and heirs. 

Whose Honor?

Recently I've been reading The Five Love Languages of Teenagers, which I highly recommend when your kids are about eleven. As I've been pondering how to best fill my teen's love tank, I've also had a couple of interesting and challenging conversations with folks about parenting. It seems the best we can do for our children at any age is pray and love them toward the most solid foundation of God-confidence possible. Not to modify their behavior or spare them any pain in life - that's how we learn, after all - but to train them to lean on God and depend on Him only for their sense of self and security.

This morning I was reading the story of a man whose parents either didn't have this goal or whose heart was just to hard to be molded. His appetite for man's praise and power was insatiable. Here's just one example of the warped perspective Haman lived with:

"Calling together his friends and Zeresh, his wife, Haman boasted to them about his vast wealth, his many sons, and all the ways the king had honored him and how he had elevated him above the other nobles and officials. 'And that's not all,' Haman added. 'I'm the only person Queen Esther invited to accompany the king to the banquet she gave. And she has invited me along with the king tomorrow. But all this gives me no satisfaction as long as I see that Jew Mordecai sitting at the king's gate.'" (Esther 5:10-13)

Even though the king had honored Haman, he had a fertile family, and everyone in the kingdom recognized his power and accomplishment, "that Jew Mordecai sitting at the gate", who wouldn't bow down to him, overshadowed everything good in his life.

It got me thinking: whose honor do I care about most? Where does my sense of well-being come from? Who do I strive to please in my daily activities?

The Bible tells me that the answer to all these questions should be God, of course. But is that how I live it out when I worry more about a friend being mad at me than being obedient? Is that the reality when I set professional or personal goals without consulting God or considering His perspective? Am I living for God's honor alone when I choose to lie? When my insecurities drive me to treat others poorly? When gratitude for all of God's blessings are minimized and I focus on the few things I want that I don't have? What about when I fall prey to the green monster of envy over someone else's good looks, good fortune, or good life?

These behaviors and attitudes all reflect a Haman-esque perspective. A focus on self and a pride that keeps me from experiencing God's best in my life and peace in His presence. And when I recognize the symptoms, the only remedy is to repent.

You see, I want my son to have a strong sense of identity in Christ, but I want it for myself, too! I want to focus like a laser beam on the things of God: what pleases Him, what is holy, serving others. But I'm incapable of that kind of life without the powerful intervention of the Holy Spirit and the redeeming work of Christ's perfect sacrifice on the cross.

Thanks be to God that we have access to these because of the grace and love of God our Father! He speaks ALL the love languages, because He is love. What better place to turn in order to be transformed!

So I met a guy in a bar last night.

Let me explain.

I was meeting a couple of friends who used to work for my husband, and when we meet, we meet at the restaurant my husband used to own, which is where they used to work. As we were catching up on jobs, relationships, and the state of politics and the economy, a man seated a few barstools away from us joined our conversation.

First, he commented on the frustrations of the aging process. Brother, I hear you there! We nodded politely, then turned back to our conversation.

After he'd had a couple more drinks and our conversation seemed more interesting to him, he chimed in once again. This time he had overheard us talking about gay marriage laws and differing views Christians had on the subject. My friends and I have agreed to disagree on many issues, this being one of them. Our new friend directed his comment to me when he said, "so you're one of those judgmental Christians who thinks all gay people will go to hell." Awesome. I responded that if by judgmental he meant putting myself in a superior position to others, then, no. I'm not judgmental. (This after he wondered why I just didn't embrace my judgmentalism.)

"Do you believe there's a hell?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Do you believe people will actually go there?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe all gay people will go to hell?"

"Absolutely not."

His eyebrows raised, he pursed his lips and nodded slowly, as if to say, "tell me more". So I did.

As my friends had quickly exited for a cigarette, throwing me under the bus to engage our new friend alone, I continued:

"You see, I don't think it's what anybody does that determines whether or not they go to heaven. It's who they know. If someone knows Jesus and accepts what HE did by dying on the cross for them, that's what determines whether or not they go to heaven."

More nodding.

Then, after some talk of Americans not knowing the difference between consubstantiation and transubstantiation, and illiterate spirituality, and "slaughtering" religious differences, we discovered that the barstool denizen was, in fact, Canadian. He'd been living here for 10 years and had assessed the American spiritual zeitgeist so thoroughly that there really was nothing left to discuss.

So he finished his meal, paid his tab, and left.

My friends and I debriefed.

Turns out they really agree with a lot that he was saying. But he was such a jerk about it that they didn't trust themselves to engage calmly in my defense as he ranted about "literalist Christians" and their problems interpreting the first 2 chapters of Genesis (idiots!). There was some awkward head-shaking and sighing before we moved on to the next topic in his absence.

This morning I'm replaying the conversations in my head. Did I represent Christ well? Did I speak truth? How can I keep engaging people on issues like biblical interpretations of social issues without appearing to be (or actually being) ignorant or condescending or rude?

Thank God for the power of the Holy Spirit! I was leaning heavily on His direction last night, for sure. And so, this morning, I release my second-guessing and hand-wringing to His sovereignty. May my Canadian spiritual nemesis find truth and peace in other conversations as God reveals Himself more and more.

He is risen!

Easter Sunday.

What better opportunity for teenage boys to ride, jump with, and fall off bikes? Last weekend we travelled over the river and through the woods - to Grandmother's house we went. There, we found skate parks and piles of dirt to make a young boy's heart pound and adrenaline race through his veins.

A few crashes? Not to worry. Our chiropractor will soon put everything back in order.

The beauty of the huge mounds of dirt on the neighbor's property was the height to which bikers could soar if they had enough momentum. Some went higher than others, of course, but everyone involved caught some air.

The freedom and joy in the faces of the bikers this weekend was more than apt for Resurrection Sunday. As I contemplate all that Easter means for us, I am more and more in awe of the perfect plan and effect God's sovereign power wrought.

As we embrace the glory of the cross - the ultimate victory over all the sin that weighs me down and the death that threatened to separate us from God forever - we have access to God's Holy Spirit, who will empower and transform us to live in freedom with God.

Because He is risen.

Death could not hold Him. The grave could not keep Him from rising again.

And because of that glorious sacrifice and victory, I am free to soar. I'm free to live without the burden of my past. I can run unhindered by sin that trips me up and makes me stumble.

Because He is risen.

I want my life in Christ to be like the bikers who caught the most air last weekend: exuberant, free, and exhilarating. Defying gravity and moving forward in power. We can live like this!

Because He is risen!

The Cross on the Side of the Road

This morning I was heading to what I thought was going to be a momentous and emotionally heavy, but healing, conversation. I prayed in the car all the way, asking God to bring healing and truth into the conversation. I confessed that I trusted in Him, not the process I was engaging in.

Imagine my chagrin when, upon arriving at my destination, I found that the person with whom I was to have the conversation was out of town! We had clearly crossed our icalendar wires and I left feeling disappointed and empty. I was geared up. Emotionally charged. Ready for the carefrontation to occur.

But alas, it wasn't meant to be today.

Returning home, I asked God, "What's this about? What does it mean? Was I wrong to schedule this in the first place? Is this your way of telling me it was a bad idea to pursue it?" The combination of the emotional letdown, PMS creeping in, and the misty weather blurred my vision as I drove.

Then I saw the cross.

No, I mean a literal cross. On the side of the road.

It was the huge cross that a local church has in front of it and it was draped in a long white cloth that was dancing in the rainy breeze. Adorning the top was a crown of thorns.

It was a vivid reminder to me from God that THIS is where healing and redemption lie. Not in a conversation or a process or a life formula. The details of my situation were immediately dwarfed by the looming cross and its significance.

I began to pray for my friends whose lives were broken by their circumstances. For family members who weren't following God. For my own faith - that it would only and ever be based solely on the miraculous, redemptive work that was done on that cross.

It was a timely and necessary means to jog my memory and draw me into God's perspective on my circumstances. The truth is that everything else pales in comparison to the eternal truths that the cross represents. And this is a perfect time of year to be reminded of that each time I drive past a church with a liturgically dressed cross.

I am loved.

I am free from the burden of my past and of my failures.

I am part of God's family and I will spend eternity with Him.

Jesus died to pay a debt I could never pay to a holy God and HE IS ALIVE to intercede for me.

I've run the emotional gamut this morning, and it's not even lunchtime yet. But I've also experienced my Savior's truth and perspective in a way that should last until we say, "Hosannah, Hosannah! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the LORD!" on Sunday.

God First

This morning I said to God, "I have a lot to do this morning, but first I have to do you."

He smiled and nodded imperceptibly.

And that has made all the difference.

Building a Kingdom

I have to come clean and admit that I'm fully engaged in another Facebook game: Castleville. (Here's a shout out to all my friends in neighboring kingdoms who have been so kind as to visit me and give me shards of exploration crystals and have unwithered my crops. Hollah....)

The tag line on this highly addictive and relatively unproductive game is: Build a happy kingdom with your friends. How could I resist? I mean, who doesn't long to build a happy kingdom with friends? I want a kingdom, of which I am presumably in charge, and I want to have community. So it's perfect, right?

Sure, if all you have to do is complete random quests given to you by Rafael and Yvette by chopping down trees, crafting in your workshop, and destroying beasties who invade your happy kingdom. Then you are set.

However, as I've been contemplating deeper, more spiritual questions, the tag line of Castleville has been reverberating in my mind. As my family and friends have been through some tough church issues in the past few years, I find myself asking the question: what's church for? The realization I've come to is that for most of my adult life I've thought church is to build a happy kingdom with my friends.

It's not.

I heard a fantastic sermon at church this morning entitled: "Life at 2AM - Why are we here?" Our purpose in life is to glorify God, and when we do that in community we build HIS kingdom, not ours. And whether or not our friends are there, we love others and work together in unity to work toward HIS purposes, doing HIS will. It's not about us.

Church is not about building our kingdom with our friends. It sounds obvious, but is it how we react when things go badly? Is it manifested in our priorities in such a way that we live in a tension between our individual surrender to God's Spirit and our devoted participation in His body?

The temptation is great to work toward building a happy kingdom with my friends. But the bottom line is that my friends aren't always around and they often have very little to do with who God is asking me to do to build His kingdom.

Friends move away; God is always with us.

Friends disappoint us; God is always faithful.

Friends are sinners; God is holy and just.

This personal epiphany has opened my eyes to a new perspective and I'm hoping God will continue to show me how He wants to use me to build His eternal kingdom. I'd love company if you're in....

Towels

Living in the Northwest, I often find that my bathroom towel never completely dries between showers. It may be partially because of our climate: damp, cool, and dreary most of the winter. It may also be partially because my towel hangs on a hook, whereas my husband's towel hangs fully stretched out on a bar of the shower door. (I know. The lack of symmetry in the design of our bathroom is a topic for another day.)

So, not surprisingly, it got me to thinking about things as I looked at the towels in our bathroom. There's something attractive about the idea of being completely stretched out and available to perform at optimum potential. If a towel is not fully dry, how can it do its job? And a towel perpetually folded upon itself doesn't dry properly and it starts to smell after a while. Moldy, moist, and not what you want to wrap around your dripping body after a shower.

I want to be like a towel that's stretched out and ready to perform. One that has the service of other people as a priority. I want to have everything unattractive in me taken out and whisked away into the atmosphere so I can be fresh and available.

A towel on a hook - a life that's imploding in self-absorption - not only has limited usefulness, but after a while, starts to smell. I don't want a life that's only worried about MY boundaries that have been crossed. MY desires met. MY feelings hurt.

If God is like a dry breeze that lifts the mold and mildew of my life so I can selflessly serve others, let the wind blow! Let me have a virtual heated towel rack in my bathroom of life! I catch of whiff of my selfishness from time to time and I want to toss the towel in the laundry basket and start with the fresh scent of Downy again. And I can with Jesus!

That's what redemption is all about.

A fresh start.

A do-over.

No more moldy odors or damp cotton to do a half-assed job. I want to be stretched out and ready to serve. Fresh and clean. Nothing to hide in the mildewy folds of my introspection.

Let the cleansing wind of the Holy Spirit blow into the towel racks of my life, Lord! I want to smell Downy fresh!

Confidence

“‘This is what the great king, the king of Assyria, says: On what are you basing this confidence of yours?'" (2 Kings 18:19)

This is a question I've been pondering a lot over the past year or so. On what am I basing this confidence of mine?

If it was on my looks, then middle-age is taking care of changing that.

If it's on my smarts, well, God Himself took that off the table by endowing me with only slightly above average intellect.

On doing the right thing? Good luck to those around me. I score 0 on the scales of compassion and service.

How about my accomplishments? Again, not much to brag about.

It would be pretty easy to look at me and say, "On what are you basing this confidence of yours?"

But what if, like Hezekiah, I'm basing my confidence on God's promises? What if I believed what God said is true regardless of what anyone else says about me or my chances of success in this world?

Because God says I'm loved.

I'm redeemed and forgiven.

And I was chosen to be adopted into His family.

And that He's got my back and is preparing a place for me to spend eternity with Him.

So in spite of my lack of credentials or achievements, in the face of colossal mistakes and epic fails, I am pretty confident. Not in me, of course, but in the God who chose me, loves me, and calls me to live for Him.

Naaman

"Go wash yourself seven times in the Jordan and your flesh will be restored and you will be cleansed."

But Naaman went away angry and said, "I thought he would surely come out to me and stand and call on the name of the LORD his God, wave his hand over the spot and cure me of my leprosy." (2 Kings 5:10-11)

Am I missing out on something God wants to do in my life because I'm too focused on the expectations I've built up? Is my focus on the wrong thing so I don't see God's activity in my life? Do I want drama more than His Presence? And can I even clearly identify my need?

My expectations?

My hope?

Am I, like Naaman, expecting God to do something big in my life while I wait, idly, and simply complain?

That's not what I want, Lord! I want to respond by doing whatever you require of me; just show me what it is! Oh, that it would be as clear as it was for Naaman. But then, would I balk like he did? Probably.

As is true so often in Scripture - and in life - there is a tension that exists between what only God can do and what He asks me to do. How could I possible get those confused?

But I do.

Would you give me eyes to see the difference, Lord. And strength to act or submit, accordingly.

Work and Play

I just got home from Paris.

Don't feel too badly for me. It wasn't as bad as it sounds.

We had good food, walked for miles, ate crêpes in the Tuileries Gardens, and took a fascinating tour of the Veuve Clicquot champagne cellars. All in all, a pretty rocking week.

But have you discovered that no matter how glorious the vacation, how amazing the scenery, and how fascinating the experience, once you know it's time to get home, you just can't wait?

What is that?

I have a theory.

It's time to be productive. It's how we were designed.

Take a look at this verse from the creation account:

"The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it." (Genesis 2:15)

And this one from a wise, wise king:

"Then I realized that is it good and proper for a man to eat and drink, and to find satisfaction in his toilsome labor under the sun during the few days of life God has given him - for this is his lot." (Ecclesiastes 5:18)

We were meant to live in a balance of work and pleasure. Labor and laughter. Toil and tranquility.

And often we don't realize we lack one because we're so imbalanced in the other.

I've recently taken on some tutoring responsibilities, getting my feet back into the world of education, and it wasn't until my days were filled with meaningful activities that I realized how much time I had been wasting! There is great satisfaction in doing a job and doing it well.

We were created with a rhythm and a tension. It's the concept behind God's emphasis over and over again on the Sabbath. Work your tails off for 6 days, then take a break, for crying out loud! A real break that changes pace, focus and priority. Then go back to what you were doing with God at the center of it.

Recalibration is good because it realigns our purposes and priorities. And in my opinion, there are fewer places better to do that than in Paris with a few girlfriends.

But now it's time to be productive again. Bring it on, Lord!

Scavenger Hunt

My son's youth group did a scavenger hunt yesterday at church.

I didn't ask him the kinds of things they were supposed to look for but I have been thinking about my own hunt, as I scavenge (is that even a word?) through life looking for purpose. Looking for God's glory. For comfort. Love. Beauty.

Is there holiness in raising my face to the sun and letting it dry the tears that stream down my face, escaping my tightly squeezed eyelids?

Is there holiness in sitting at my desk, reaching for the words to describe God's truth, and being distracted by a huge spider that meanders, uninvited, along the baseboard, among electrical cords?

Is God's glory in snoring spouses?

Is there something divine in stitches from surgery and post-op meds that are instantly bitter on the tongue but stave off infection in the body?

My theology is challenged in the dichotomy of the divine and the mundane.

Yes, God is present in all of it. He made the sun's warmth. The unwelcome arachnid is His creation, too. (Ew!) He's in the nearness of noisy breathing. In the healing process. In my triumphs and in my epic fails.

He is everywhere and in everything.

And He wants to be found. To be seen. To be embraced and sought after.

This is my scavenger hunt list:

One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple. (Psalm 27:4)

Reveal yourself to me, Lord. Show me your beauty and your glory in everything today. Amen.

Morning Stillness

I sit and listen to the rhythmic whoosh of a sprinkler,

To the now-audible hmmmm of the refrigerator.

I gaze at still branches awaiting a scrambling critter or gentle breeze to stir,

And sip warm coffee, the color of summer skin.

I inhale deeply, peacefully, slowly.

Sigh.

Loved ones still sleep, unseen, unheard.

But I am fully, blissfully awake, embracing the potential of a new day.

Anticipation. Longing. Contentment.

All intermingled as I pause before the light is so bright.

And the noise is so loud.

While God is still near and I am fully present.

Poised, with open arms and heart.

Whoosh.

Sigh.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Sun in the trees

"From where I lay I can see the sun,

rising through the trees.

Before I face this morning rush,

I get down on my knees.

I lift my eyes and I thank you

for this life you've granted me.

I pray that every day I live, your heart will be pleased."

(from All I Ever Wanted, by Margaret Becker)

I was thinking of this old favorite song of mine this morning, as I sat watching the sun peek through the trees on its way to light the sky for the day. I was reading about the land allotments in the book of Joshua and paused to stretch my problematic neck. (See previous post for details.)

I caught a momentary glimpse of bright orange as the rising sun peeked through the cedars in the back yard. In that split second, I sensed God saying to me, as He had to Paul centuries ago,

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

(2 Corinthians 12:9)

Recently, I've been struggling with an ongoing personal issue and, even though I was stretching for physical comfort in that moment, God met me with a much deeper comfort. A reminder that although it only seems we see the sun for a second, it's always there. Even though there may only be a spot - a single ray - of sunlight shining into our darkness, it's never blotted out completely.

God's light - His comfort, His truth, His love - is always rising to fill our lives.

Whether we see the effects dimly - diffused through leaves or morning fog - or if it's brilliantly spectacular in its hues and intensity, the sun - like God - is constant and unchanging. We'll catch glimpses; then it will seem to disappear because we've lost sight of it. But God will use His Word, His Spirit, and other people in our lives to remind us that He is there.

As I still sit and see the shadows and lighting shift among the trees, I'm reassured. I sense God's peace in my present situation as well as for life in general, as He reminds me that His grace IS sufficient for me. Whether I need to pull up my big girl panties and suck it up because life is hard, or I lay out my heart before Him in my need and pain, what He offers is enough.

"These muscles are angry."

Words spoken by my chiropractor as she delved deeply into my shoulder tissue, stretching my neck while massaging tender places on the opposite side.

This, after I had taken a deep breath in, lying on my stomach, and let it out slowly, only to have her hands come down powerfully in the middle of my back, releasing an audible, unwitting "HUH!" from my lips.

Why would anyone submit to this treatment?!

Because whatever Dr. Denniston does is for my good. (Anyone see where I'm going with this?)

Most of us don't want God or other people poking and prodding in our lives, especially when it reveals something uncomfortable or downright sinful. Conversations with friends that push back on my bad theology or question my motivations and behaviors are unpleasant. God's Word shining its objective light into the dark recesses of my conscience can illuminate areas of my life that aren't holy. Sometimes it's unpleasant; sometimes it's painful.

But what's the goal of opening ourselves up to the scrutiny and treatment of those we trust? Hopefully our goal is wholeness and health. Nothing short of transformation.

Jesus told the religious leaders of His time: "You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to the traditions of men." (Mark 7:8) That could not have been easy to hear, especially because the rebuke was so public. Jesus was exposing the wrong motivation of their hearts: they were all about themselves and not about God. Ouch.

So the reason I seek out the objective truth of God's Word and the authentic conversations of trusted friends is because I want that stuff out of me! I want and need help seeing my personal blind spots, even if it's uncomfortable. Even if it makes me angry and defensive at first. Because in the process of examining truth in the inmost parts (Psalm 51), I move forward in the transformation process of becoming more like Jesus. And in understanding Him more and more.

And as I've discovered in chiropractic care, sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better. Adjusting one area that's out of alignment requires that our whole bodies make the shift and feel the brunt of the change. But there are devastating effects of vertebral subluxation if we allow the misalignment to continue. (Right, Dr. D?)

Lord, open my heart to the unerring truth of your Word, the clear and powerful conviction of your Holy Spirit, and the trusted words of friends who love me like you do. Would you do whatever it takes to align me with your will to reflect your glory to the world around me. Amen.

Thoughts on Paul's example

I'm reading through Philippians and Colossians this summer with some gals on facebook. This week we're reading Philippians 4 and this morning I was struck by the repetition of Paul's bold invitation to follow his example in following Christ. Here, he says it in verse 9:

"Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me - put into practice. And the God of peace will be with you".

In verse 17 of Chapter 3 he said:

"Join with others in following my example, brothers, and take note of those who live according to the pattern we gave you".

What would that look like in the lives of those I've discipled over the years, if they followed my example and put into practice not only what they've learned, received, and heard from me, but also what they've seen? Definitely better some days than others. And Paul was so intentional about having those people in his life, wasn't he? Constantly multiplying himself by investing in younger men to further the kingdom.

Have you been the beneficiary of that kind of relationship? Have you had the blessing of being that example to someone else? It's quite a challenge, but also very satisfying. It requires that we spend a lot of time with God, allowing Him to make us into an example that can be followed. And an example that always points back to Jesus. Lord, let it be so.

Jesus Christ Superstar

So our family and some friends saw a local production of Jesus Christ Superstar last night. Having never seen the production, I had been warned that it might be offensive, and some actually used the word blasphemous. I am publicly admitting today that I am either theatrically ignorant or more religiously tolerant than I thought. Or both.

In bullet points (because it's how I think and see the world) here are my observations:

• No one approaches the subject of Jesus' life without bringing a certain bias, and Andrew Lloyd Weber and Tim Rice are no exception. They are entitled to express their bias with their own creative and brilliant methods.

• The music of the 70's rocked!

• There is no biblical evidence for portraying Mary Magdalene as a woman with a sordid sexual past, but there it was. Again, I refer to my first point: you're the genius in theater - you get to portray the characters any way you like. Weber and Rice were certainly not the first, nor will they be the last to think of Mary as a former whore.

• Dan Brown (author of The DaVinci Code) probably loved this play. The whole Mary/Jesus love connection...I'm just sayin'.

• Jesus and Judas did die the same week. Fascinating premise to chronicle what that last week would have been like between them. (Also wondering how that era produced such high tenors that could melt your face with their singing. Who knew that's what Jesus and Judas had in common?)

• Staging the tongue in cheek numbers (think Herod in a spa and Judas in the all-sequined afterlife) just that way seemed apt in light of how off everyone was in their assessment of Jesus' purpose. Had Jesus jumped down off the cross to appease the crowd's thirst for sensationalism, everyone would have believed; but they would have believed in an incomplete Jesus. Bottom line: He had to die and rise to actually conquer sin and death. It wasn't the show-stopping number everyone anticipated. It was so much more. I miss it too, sometimes. "Prove you're who you say you are", I demand. As if this life is about me.

• I don't believe Jesus told the lepers, the lame, the poor, and the blind to heal themselves, as He did in the play, but I do believe He may have felt tempted to, if we're to believe Hebrews 4:15, which tells us that "we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are - yet was without sin."

• The song Jesus sang in the Garden of Gethsemane scene depicts every bit of anguish and desperation that I picture when I read the gospels. Gorgeous lyrics, heartbreaking delivery. What must that night have been like? Did it feel like Jesus was drinking poison to obey? How does that figure in with the description in Hebrews 12 that says Jesus endured the cross "for the joy set before him"? And what would it be like for me to have my mind so focused on an eternal perspective - so consumed with love for my Savior - that joy could be mingled with anguish? I think I've experienced that to some degree in my life at times, but nothing like Jesus.

So I think the 1973 movie might have to move up on my netflix list. Those rockin' disciples and their songs are going to be haunting me for a while.