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.