Feeling like Christmas

It hasn't felt much like Christmas this year. 

Maybe it's because the month of December has been fraught with sickness and the stress that comes from having to squeeze a month's worth of Christmas shopping into just a couple of days (hence - gift cards don't quite cut it!)  Maybe it's because there hasn't been much snow. (Naah, for me that's not it.) Maybe it's because we had been looking forward to all being able to go out to a peaceful, serene candle-light Christmas Eve service which turned out to be anything but - for those of us that were even well enough to go at all. :( 

Maybe it's because we've not been able to sing since early December, so it's seemed pointless to have Christmas music in the house. (We like to sing along.) 

Perhaps it's because right around the time the sickness started, there was an injury that put one of our family into a wheelchair and off work. Our days have been pre-occupied with making the house accessible - when we've been able to expend the energy to do manual labor. 

It could be that we were so weak that we couldn't get the tree put up until December 15 instead of the first weekend in December. 

As I look at all those possible reasons, nowhere do I find anything about what the season is really about. All I see are traditions to which we've become attached and which weren't possible. 

I had "Christmas Moments" a couple of times this month, but they had nothing to do with the traditions. They had to do with giving something to someone who needed it, who couldn't possibly afford it, or who wouldn't get something like [fill in the blank] for him or her self. Nowhere was there the thought of being paid back (or of that mentality that says, "Well SHE spent twenty dollars on MY gift so I have to spend at least twenty dollars on HERS." (Yikes!) It was simple giving, from the heart, made all the more special because it was unexpected without keeping score. 

Once I let go of my preconceived notions, my hopes of what I would experience, and started focusing on the Reason we mark December 25 on the calendar - the baby in the manger, the light in the darkness, the way opened to everyone who would open the door to Him - that's when it happened. 

It started "feeling like Christmas." 

It didn't matter that there wasn't any snow, or many presents under the tree. It didn't matter that plans were foiled, that the whole Christmas Eve traditions were ruined, or that we weren't able to sing Christmas carols and go look at the lights. 

Christmas morning came, just the same. Sitting around the tree, one of us read the Christmas story (not the "Night Before Christmas" poem by Samuel Clemens, but the one in Luke 2!) and we went to Youtube and found the song we always sing. We let the Brooklyn Tabernacle choir sing it instead - and as usually happens - I 'teared up'. 

There wasn't anything super-special about the whole thing. And soon, I'll be starting to get the Christmas meal ready, with all the hard work that entails.

And it still feels like Christmas.

Co-workers with God

I love it when God works something out that a bunch of His people have been praying about, and allows us to participate in the outcome with the prayers and the support He allows us to offer. 

A buddy of mine was in quite a bind lately. The situation was absolutely hopeless. On a fixed income and limited in what she could pay for rent, she was told she could no longer live in her apartment, which cost $200 more per month than she could afford (long story but suffice to say that this was due to someone else's bad choices.) The apartment kept her from the elements, but that was about it. The heating was off-and-on, there was mold, there were other issues as well. And her landlord basically said, "Well if you can't afford this amount of money, you have to be out of here by the end of November." Plunged into this situation with little time to arrange for a place to stay, she put her name into subsidized housing programs; no joy there. She tried to find an apartment for the maximum she was supposed to pay on her fixed income and still leave money to buy groceries and pay other bills, but there were no apartments available that weren't (as she called them) "dives." 

Her situation was doubly compounded by the fact that any place she went would need to accept pets - in particular, cats - because her kitties are her babies; she would never go anywhere they were not welcome.

A few weeks ago, as she and others were making her situation a matter of more concentrated prayer, she received a call from a telemarketer one evening. On a whim, she answered the phone. The young man asked if she wanted to donate to some worthy cause; she was unable to and told the man a little of her situation. He asked if he could call her back, and he did a few days later with the cell phone number of her local Member of Legislative Assembly (the Canadian equivalent of a State-level elected representative). He told her to call this number and say that he had given out this number.

In fear and trembling, she did. She told her MLA the situation and he was shocked at the amount to which she was limited for rent and more shocked at her total monthly income! He asked how she even managed for groceries! Then he said to call his personal assistant on the next working day, and tell that person exactly what she had told him... which she did. Then .... nothing happened - for over a week. In the meantime, she was getting more and more desperate. Through the kindness of a friend of a friend, more options surfaced. Yet, there were no openings. So it seemed, anyway. 

A nice apartment kitchen

Last night, my friend got home from volunteering at a local charity and saw a message on her voice mail. It was Seniors housing (one of the subsidized housing programs); they wanted to talk to her. They called her again this morning. "We have a place we would like you to look at; you may not like it but why don't you come and have a look?" 

She went, bathed in prayer by all who knew about it. The moment she stepped into the place she fell head over heels in love with it. It had lots of storage space, a larger kitchen than the one she has now, and her own designated parking space, in a nice quiet neighborhood, as well as an in-house laundry - all included. Timidly, unable to believe how amazing this place was, she asked them if they took cats. 

"Yes, we do," came the answer. 

That was the clincher! They assumed she wanted some lead time to pack. "I'm already packed," she informed them, and within an hour they made arrangements for her to pick up her key. On this coming Friday the 30th - the last day of this month - the very day her lease runs out on the old apartment, she signs the papers and picks up her key.

Whether the politician was able to make a plea for her, or whether some people ahead of her on the list decided not to participate in the program any more, we don't know. All we know is that God has been in control of this process from the get-go, and He worked things out in such a way that He gets all the credit. 

Being able to be a small part of the process and having the privilege of watching this happen up close ... has been nothing short of thrilling. Hearing the excitement in her voice as she was telling me about her new place and also sharing how much better off she is now than even 2 months ago has been such an encouragement. 

I thought I'd share this story because it is often discouraging to pray and pray and pray for something that seems never to come. We think that we are not making a difference. Our faith falters. Yet Jesus said that nothing is impossible with God. So we wonder if there might be something wrong with our faith. I know I have.

I recently read an article written by a Scottish pastor who actually reads ancient Hebrew and ancient Greek. He talked about that verse and said that it was not quite translated the way that we think it was. In the original, the sentence reads more like, "What God speaks as 'rhema' (sometimes spelled 'rema') that is, His personal word to your situation, is going to happen. Period. Even if it seems impossible; if He has spoken to you, He will accomplish it."

When we pray God's "rhema" word, we can have full assurance that it will happen. My friend was led back here by God a couple of years ago from out of province - and it was like He told her in no uncertain terms that this was where she was to be; her support network was here, and she was to be here. 

So when her world toppled a couple of months ago, and this stressful situation was created through no fault of her own, the temptation was so great to question whether she'd really heard right. Yet deep in her heart she knew that God wanted her here with friends and in community with other believers. 

We as her friends and fellow-believers could co-operate with God's will for her by praying that He would provide a place for her to live. He left it to almost the last minute - as usual - but when crunch time came - He came through. And we who were praying for her were able to rejoice in her miracle, knowing that in some small way, we had the blessing of participating in it. 

I also wanted to share this story so that someday, if ever someone is in that spot, that place where all human avenues had been exhausted and it's a question of, "Will God do for me what I know He CAN do?" he or she can look at this story ... and take heart.

Goat-herds and shepherds

There is one major difference between a goat-herd and a shepherd, other than the fact that one herds goats and the other herds sheep. (For the purpose of NOT making this post difficult to read by putting a lot of references in to "his or her" - I'll just say "his" - you can assume I also mean "her" if that's what floats your boat.)

It's the manner in which each gets his charges to go where they need to be.  

A young goat-herd motivates his charges to move.

The goat-herd positions himself somewhere to the rear of the group and uses his stick to whack the goats on the side or the backside to drive them in the direction he wants them to go. His means of motivating his goats is external. Basically, he tells them with his stick, "You're not where you should be. Go there. Do that. Stop doing this." 

The shepherd, on the other hand, goes ahead of his flock. He calls to them and moves forward. The sheep trust him and follow willingly. He carries a stick, but it has a crook in the top to rescue the sheep who's caught in a thorn-bush, to hook around its neck or under a leg to pull it to safety. The other end - the rod end - is to ward off enemies; its use is for punishment. Rarely if ever does the shepherd use the rod on his sheep. His way of making the sheep go where he wants is by going there himself first, and they will want to follow; he doesn't have to whack them. They learn to trust the staff as an extension of his loving care for them, and be grateful that the shepherd is there to protect them from the predators with his rod.

In the church, a problem arises when shepherds, entrusted with the care of their flock, act like goat-herds. A sheep treated like a goat will end up acting like a goat: rebellious, inattentive, mistrusting, and stubborn. 

It is indeed frustrating to see people floundering around in their own free will and heading into danger zones. It is frustrating to see empty prayer rooms and altars full of bless-me Christians, overworked people in ministries with nobody to give them any respite, folks with seemingly nothing better to do than criticize those who ARE working their tails off, and interpersonal conflicts that nobody seems to want to resolve, each thinking that it's the other's responsibility to make the first move. The natural tendency is to want to yell at them, shake them, do something to make them behave themselves so that the desired result is produced. The problem is that for the most part, that kind of approach is met with even more of the same. People will become more stubborn, more needy, more selfish. It's the push-push-back reaction. 

It takes something of the divine to launch out in front instead, and show the way, to trust the results to God. For, as if I had to spell it out, it is not the shepherd's job to "make" his flock do anything. Effecting change in someone is not anyone's job but One - the One who is even now interceding on our behalf and who groans within each of us to transform us into better people from the inside out. Leading is a labor of love. And it's also an exercise in trust - trusting God and also trusting the people who are being led. Intimidation, sarcasm, and shame are weapons ... and not ever to be used on the flock. 

Lean on the staff

May I go a step further here and say a personal word about the notion that many leaders have regarding leadership? I am not merely speaking to pastors here. I am also talking to anyone in a position of leadership, from a church ministry to a parent to a coach.

One of the most powerful statements I ever heard from a pastor was this, "Don't be afraid to lead with a limp." He talked about Jacob - the time when he wrestled with someone a lot stronger than he was (who turned out to be what most Bible scholars call a "pre-incarnation manifestation of Jesus") and would not let go until He blessed him. This powerful being touched him in his hip (and blessed him when he would not let go even then, changing his name to Israël), and ever afterward, Jacob walked with a limp. It was a reminder to him that once God touches your life, you are never the same again. But it is also a reminder to us that vulnerability doesn't make you a weaker person; it makes you a stronger one because people see your desire to follow the Master even when it is hard, even when you can't do it as well as someone else might. 

That vulnerability keeps you humble, keeps you depending on God instead of relying on your own strength.  It prevents you from being arrogant and judgmental. 

Paul knew about this too ... most intimately!! He called his "thorn in the flesh" a "messenger of Satan to buffet me." Yet we learn from the book of Job that nothing happens without God's okay. So, when Paul asked that this hindrance be removed, God said NO. It was a sure bet that Paul's thorn in the flesh (whatever it was) hampered his efforts, limited his ability to do what he thought he "should" be doing. (See my series on "shoulds and oughtas" for an in-depth discussion of that whole topic, search for it on Get Unwrapped!) But God wasn't interested in how MUCH Paul did FOR Him but in how much HE could do in PAUL. Bingo. Here is the crux of the matter. God is only interested in conforming us into the image of His Son Jesus (Romans 8:29) and if the truth were told, THAT is the "good" that He causes all things to work together for (vs. 28). 

It's okay if the sheep see you limping, leaning on the staff once in a while. It helps them identify with you. Gone are the days when ministers, parents, and leaders needed to project the image of invulnerability, of "having it all together." That kind of image smacks of authoritarianism ... and makes the rest of us feel as though there's something wrong with us when we get tired, or bored, or frustrated with ourselves, when in fact, those feelings are perfectly normal and human. Or it might make us feel resentful that you seem to expect us to be carbon copies of you, when that's not necessarily what God has called us to be. Perhaps.

I would venture to say that the limp, the vulnerability, the weakness of which you are so ashamed, makes you a better leader. It gives you compassion. It helps you remember that the process of self-improvement ... or sanctification if you want to call it that ... is just that - a process. It isn't a destination and it is no human's responsibility to produce that in anyone else's life. It is an outflow of a relationship with God that bursts out of its little box and takes over more and more of an individual's life. It spills out over all other relationships: with self, with others. It is not your responsibility to make that happen. Quite frankly, it is God's.  He's been doing it for a very long time. He's probably qualified. ;)

So perhaps it's better to follow the Good Shepherd, pay attention to your own spiritual growth, and just live your life. He'll take care of the rest. And along the way, some people might see you following Him, and they might do the same, in a way that is unique to them. 

So much the better.

The Blow Torch

"Be angry, and sin not; let not the sun go down on your wrath."

I've heard the above verse quoted all my life. Usually it was followed by a warning to not go to bed angry, and a sermon (formal or not) on the evils of anger.

I have a problem with that. If anger is so bad, why does the passage say to be angry in  the first place? What it the verse doesn't mean what everyone seems to think it does? What if it's telling us to not let our anger go down and lose power like the setting sun? 

Oo-oo. That puts a whole new spin on it. I know the verse warns about sinning (that would be, being angry at a person and not at an injustice or an unwise way of thinking)... but just imagine for a moment if we have been getting it wrong for generations and that this has prevented us from righting wrongs that have gone unchallenged. The Scriptures say that God is angry every day. Ouch! And what exactly was Jesus doing when He cleansed the temple with an improvised whip? teaching Sunday school? 

Blowtorches are useful tools
but dangerous weapons.

Anger is like a flame. Out of control, it can cause great damage. However, if used as a tool, it can accomplish great things, just like a blow torch: refine the flame, make it hotter and more efficient, and use it the way it was intended, and it can do things that we couldn't hope to do otherwise. 

Abraham Lincoln was angry that people were buying and selling other people as property. He turned up the heat - and when others caught the fire, there was a lot of damage done, granted - but he refined that flame and brought freedom to the oppressed. The suffragettes were angry that women were denied the vote. You get the picture. 

It's when we use it on each other that it becomes wrong. That's when the fire can burn out of control because the blow torch was never meant to touch human flesh. It was meant to do a specific job - to build, to help, to cut through obstacles. It was never meant as a weapon. 

It was also never meant to be concealed or denied. Believing that anger is wrong and denying its existence is like having a blow torch on and trying to put a blanket over it. It will burn the blanket, for one thing! It will also come out in an area you never intended it to ... and the results of that are not pretty... The outcome is far worse than grabbing hold of the torch the way it was meant to be used ... and treat it with the respect it deserves.

Power failure

"...His divine power has granted to us everything pertaining to life and godliness, through the true knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and excellence..." - 2 Peter 1:3 NASB

God: unlimited power; unlimited love. Yet He's promised that we can access all we'll ever need to live life fully, to be like Him. In fact, He tells us that He's already given it to us.

No way. Not this little black sheep!!

Trying to wrap my understanding around this concept is difficult! However, I remembered an unbelievable sight I saw once: during a thunderstorm in broad daylight, we were driving past an electrical substation. In a nearby field, about  a hundred and fifty feet from us, there was this tall evergreen tree - it would have been about four feet in diameter at the base.

Lightning strikes a tree - a photo I found at
Solar Navigator

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck the tree. In a moment of time, it was transformed into a brilliant four-foot column of white light that arced all the way into the sky! Almost exactly at the same time, we heard a giant "CRRRRAACK!!!" and I watched in amazement as the huge tree literally exploded into splinters, all of which caught fire and burned into ash before they even reached the ground. What remained was a jagged stump left in the earth, only barely singed where the electricity had surged through it. Remarkable.

I was only vaguely aware of a metallic smell in the air.

This all happened in the short time it took to drive past the substation: about 5 seconds. I was breathless with awe, humbled at the raw power of it. And so grateful that it was over there, not right here.

The power contained in that one bolt of lightning, earth to sky, according to scientists, would have been about a trillion volts - that's a million million volts! It's infinitely greater than the current that courses through the electrical cable that runs from the power pole outside our house to the house itself, and even THAT is enough to kill someone many times over. Even in that form, though more controlled, it is still unusable, inaccessible by the average person.

All that power available to us - yet we are unable to get at it, to use it. 

Kind of like 2 Peter 1:3 is at first blush. "His divine power" is pretty big. How can I tap into that kind of force in a meaningful way? in a way that gives me the power to live life to the full?

About four years ago, we had some electricians come in and update our wiring. They took out the old fuse box and replaced it with a circuit-breaker box. They increased the number of lines that ran into the box and left some spares in case we wanted to add other lines. They re-routed some of the extra electricity that was making our fuses overload, and put those lines on a separate circuit of their own. They re-labelled the lines. 

I don't think much about electricity. I just use it, for all practical purposes not even thinking about all the nasty things it COULD do to me or of the possibilities that could ensue when I flip a switch. Even though I know it could burn down not only the house but the whole neighborhood, I act as though I'm unaware of the potential, and avail myself of that power as if it's just part of my everyday life. It's dark; I turn on a light. I'm hungry; I go to the fridge or I use the stove to cook something. I don't have to plead and beg the power lines to bring that current into the house; it's already there. I just need to live my life. The power just comes. 

It's just there. Period. The thing of it is that with God, He's already provided the power, paid the bill, and run the lines. The hookup is there and the power engaged the moment I entered, of my own free will, into a relationship with Him. The only way I wouldn't be able to access that power would be if there was some sort of interruptor blocking the current from getting through, something bleeding off the power and diverting it into somewhere it's not supposed to be. 

Perhaps it's a live wire that's hidden behind the wall in my past somewhere - one that isn't hooked up to anything but is just sitting there funneling power away from where it will do the most good. If I brush up against that (or if someone else touches it!), or if other (flammable) debris gets in there as well, it could be very dangerous not only for me, but for those I love. Even a small spark can burn unseen behind those walls and engulf the entire house before I even know it's there.

Perhaps I'm just trying to do too much on my own - and overloading one area of my life (or a lot of areas of my life) too much. It happens. Perhaps the lines have gotten crudded and dirty, frayed over time with much use - or disuse. Maybe I need new wires; or, maybe they've gotten crossed and hooked up the wrong way. I might need professional help if that's the case. 

Good thing I have a Live-In Inspector who'll come alongside me and show me what needs updating ... or rewiring. 

I think I'll have a chat with Him.

Quiet: Testing in Progress

Have you ever seen these signs on a door when in an office building or a campus? "QUIET: TESTING IN PROGRESS." I have, frequently. I've even been behind a few of those signs - the one being tested, either individually or in a group of people writing the same test. 

From a site selling
all kinds of safety signs

Can I get away with saying that it's a lot easier being outside the door than inside? Can I even venture to say that it's a lot easier grading the tests (well of course it is: the grader has all the answers!) than it is taking them? 

It's so natural to slip into the role of grader - the one with all the answers, and therefore able and willing to point out another's mistakes - than it is to be the one taking the test and making the mistakes. I know; I do it all too frequently, and the results are ALWAYS bad. My problem is, I tend not to tell the person directly. I handle things in a couple of different ways. One is that I tell someone else and hope word gets back to them so they'll stop doing [fill in the blank]. If it does, by the time it gets there, it's all blown out of proportion - and feelings get hurt on both sides. Another way is that I don't say anything for a long time, and I let things build up and up and up ... and then one day I can't take it anymore and I say something snarky, and the person's feelings get hurt - and I end up looking like the bad guy. (Yes, I know that "snarky" is not a word. But it should be: snide remark = snark.) Plus ... that person never speaks to me again and gets others to see things his/her way, and a whole pile of people prejudge, and stop talking to me. This has happened most often in Christian circles (probably because that's where I spend most of my time outside work and family), but it's not limited to that part of my life. I have to conclude, then, that the problem isn't with Christians or with non-christians; the problem is with me. 

You know that moment before you give in to the temptation to justify yourself and make the other person look bad? Yes, I know it's temptation (which is never God's fault - it's the other guy's, you know, with the horns and the pitchfork - haha), but in a sense the circumstances surrounding that situation also constitute a test. I have a choice - call it multiple choice if you like - as to how to react to any given situation. The more I realize that, left to my own devices, I will ALWAYS choose the wrong thing ... the more I will leave the choice of what I do to God and follow what He wants me to do rather than what comes naturally. And therein lies the test part. It's not a test of character; it's a test of helplessness and dependency. As a human being, I like to run things. When I do, I inevitably mess up. It's as simple as that. 

I think that part of the answer lies in the first word of that sign I mentioned at the first of this post. Quiet. I think it was Solomon who said something like, "Even a fool, when he keeps quiet, is considered wise." The French people have a proverb or saying that sort of goes along with that: "Il faut y penser deux fois avant de parler" - which means, "Think twice about it before speaking." In this type of test, that's good advice for people on BOTH sides of the sign - inside (the one being tested) and outside (the one who is passing by, or passing judgment.) Quiet - think - pray first. I'm talking to my self here - the part of me that has to have her own way. I am so quick to react, to shoot first and ask questions later. 

King David prayed once, "Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth; keep the door of my lips." (Psalm 141:3) If that prayer is not a great signpost, a reminder to be quiet, I don't know what is.

When it comes right down to it - the "testing in progress" is taking place on both sides of the door, just from different perspectives. Perhaps it's time to give each other a break and just ... do what the Sign says.

All Saints Day

Tomorrow, if God wills, I will be wishing at least one person (probably many more than that) a Happy All Saints Day.

Everyone is so hyped up for Halloween that they've forgotten why it exists in the first place; it was chosen BECAUSE it was the day before All Saints Day. They used to call October 31 "All Hallow's Eve" because November 1 was the day set out to pray (hence the word "hallows" - alluding to the frequent repetition of the Lord's model prayer, " ... hallowed be Thy name") for the saints. 

FOR the saints. Not TO them. (small bunny trail there - very small. Or is it?)

I'm sure some would say, "Why would you pray for a bunch of dead people? Statues holding up the pillars of some church building somewhere?"

That's probably one big reason why All Saints Day never caught on; it got warped because the meaning of the word "saint" got warped. 

Most people think of the halo
when they think of a saint.
Picture source Patron Saints Index

The word translated "saint" in the New Testament didn't refer to someone who was so good that he or she had achieved sainthood or was beatified by the rulers. No, "saint" in the Greek means "called-out one" - and it was how every New Testament writer spoke of the people who believed in Jesus as their only hope. In other words ... every born-again Christian is a saint. Every. Single. One. 

It doesn't matter what your theology is or isn't; it doesn't matter how good or bad you think you are. If you have trusted Jesus' once-for-all-time sacrifice as your only way to have a relationship with God, then you are a saint. Period.  Sainthood isn't for the dead. It's for the living.

And yes, that means that there are a whole passel of saints (including me) walking around out there, and it also means that a good many of us aren't acting very uh, saintly. That's okay. WELL, all right, in the strictest sense it would be preferable if we behaved ourselves - but out of love, not out of duty. The perfect image of the halo-infested person who has it all together and who dispenses wisdom and hope to the poor shmucks who can't get it right ... is somehow broken by this concept. However, saints - real saints the way the Bible talks about - know all too well that we cannot do anything on our own, and that left to our own devices, we WILL fail. It smudges the image. The beauty of the smudged saint image is that we know where to find help and hope ... and it isn't in us. It's in Jesus. Period.

And some of the people who are walking around out there who are also saints ... ARE acting "saintly" - so well, in fact, that they've got themselves convinced that they've got the market cornered, that they've "arrived" and that they're above reproach. The warning bells ring when I see this type (and especially when I begin to become this type), because they think they have the right to judge other people. These are the people everyone thinks of when they call someone "holier-than-thou:" arrogant, narrow people with nothing better to do than count the number of swear words in a movie, or make hateful placards to brandish outside an abortion clinic ... or something similar.

They've forgotten that without Jesus, none of us has a hope. Ever. Being a saint doesn't mean you've arrived. Being a saint means knowing that you can never arrive and that Jesus arrived for you; you spend the rest of your life in gratitude to Him, needing Him, depending on Him! And that is when it starts to get exciting, because that is when He can step in and allow us to participate in and cooperate with His great and miraculous dealings with the human race... which ALSO includes us.

If we realize and understand deep in our insides that we need Jesus, All Saints Day makes more sense in its original meaning - praying for all the saints. James 5:16 says, "Confess your faults one to another, and pray for one another, that ye may be healed." (KJV) I use the King James here to make a point (not about the right version to use). The King James version only used "ye" for the second person plural. That word has fallen out of usage; we only use "you" now - and it can be confusing. The original Greek in that portion of James' letter means that if I tell you my stuff and you tell me yours, we pray for each other, and you and I can BOTH be healed. Healed of what? "Your faults." Our failings, our inner shortcomings. When was the last time that ever happened?

Put that on a more corporate level, do that for every "called-out one," and ... can't you see how revival (coming to life again - which implies that revival is not for the unbeliever but for the believer!) - how revival can't help but happen? 

So - tomorrow when I say, "Happy All Saints Day" - you'll know what I mean.

Say it. Today.

Last night our pastor preached on creating a culture of prayer based on loving each other and cooperating with the Spirit... among other things. It dovetailed perfectly with our associate pastor's message yesterday morning on approaching God in humility instead of haughtiness, meekness instead of manipulation. Then pastor gave us an opportunity to put into practice what we'd been taught - to seek out someone as God would lead us, and pray with that person. What followed can only be described as a manifestation of tenderness. 

People left their pews and sidled into others - one by one - to touch someone on the shoulder, or to sit with him or her in the pew. Some had left their seats and were praying alone at the altar; others joined them - one to one - and prayed with them. I was on the platform in music ministry, sitting on the edge of one of the platform tiers, singing. Most of the time my eyes were closed, so what I saw was mostly in short 'vignettes' - snippets of time. 

It was beautiful. 

Praying for someone else builds unity
and relationships. Image source

I felt an arm across my back and a hand on my shoulder. Someone had taken a seat next to me. This person began to pray for me - and try as I might, I could not continue singing. The microphone - still in my hand - dropped to my lap. My tears started to flow, because I could tell through tone and through the sincerity of the grip on my shoulder that this person loved me ... a lot. 

The words were nice - but they weren't the main thing. The main thing was that this individual cared. Cared about me. Cared about my life. Cared about the people I loved, the things that mattered to me. Cared enough to talk to the Almighty One on my behalf. 

I'd been feeling like my efforts - at home, at church, with friends and family - sometimes were for nothing; I was starting to lose hope that the things I was hoping and praying for would come to pass. This person's prayer (and it wasn't to me; I just got to listen in!) renewed my faith, bolstered my belief. I needed that ... so much.

The prayer over, my benefactor squeezed my shoulder again and left to follow God's leading somewhere else. After a minute or so, I was able to mop up my face and resume singing.

After another few minutes, another person approached me with words of encouragement and affection expressed for both my husband and me. It was so very touching, and it met an inner need I didn't even know I had; I felt (and feel) so blessed, so grateful.

In that whole sanctuary, there was no gossip, no condemnation, no animosity or frustration with each other. The whole place was transformed.

The love in that room was tangible. Everyone felt it; I could tell by the looks of awe and peace that I saw on their faces as we gathered in a final circle to pray together as a group. 

This - this is community. This is a glimpse of the Church at her finest, realizing the grace of God and passing that grace along, building each other up, coming alongside each other, supporting and loving each other. 

I issue a challenge to you as a member of the community of faith. Ask God to bring someone to your mind who needs some encouragement, who is struggling and needs prayer. It might even be someone you think has it all together; trust God's leading on who it is. Pray for that person, pray in as many specifics as you know how - and then contact and encourage him or her. 

SAY it. Don't just think it. TODAY, not tomorrow, not next week. You never know when someone might need to hear something from your heart. 

You just never know.

Call Me Ishi

When I read the Bible, I like to treat it like a bit of a treasure hunt. I know that there is something in the pages that I read that will speak to me about who God is, how much He loves and what He really wants, among other things. I ask Him to show me what He wants me to see. 

Today I prayed, sat and waited for direction on where to go. "Hosea," came the answer. 

So I went to Hosea. One of my favorite passages is Hosea 2:19, 20 - and I was looking forward to reading it. But first, I read chapter one, where God tells the prophet to go and marry a prostitute and have children with her. He says some stuff about how His people say that they're His and then go chasing after other things without even giving Him a thought. There are some pretty strong words in there. "Name your first child 'No-Compassion,' for I will not have compassion on My people. Name your second, 'Not-My-People' for I will disown them." Whew! But in chapter two, He reveals His desire to have compassion on His people, and to bring them back to Him and bless them. 

And He gives them a promise - one that is (to Him) the ultimate in what He wants deep in His heart for [each of] His people: "You will call Me Ishi, and you will no longer call me Baali." (2:16)

'Baali' means 'my Master.' 

But 'Ishi' means 'my Husband.' 

It's a totally different relationship that God wants. He doesn't want a master-servant relationship where we do what He wants and we get paid (rewarded) for it. That is religion; He hates religion. Religion is doing stuff to make God notice you or - at the very least - keep Him from squashing you like a bug. 

Hosea puts his finger right on the crux of the matter. Religion is (in the symbolism of his book) spiritual prostitution: doing whatever the master - or in today's terminology, the john - wants ... so as to get rewarded. Rules are clear. A plus B equals C. It's contractual; you serve, you expect to be rewarded. 

In religion, you pray plus you do everything that is required (and in some cases that can be the rest of the alphabet!) in order to get the desired result: answer to that prayer. Do this and this and this and this, otherwise you won't be good enough for God to bless. Not getting what you want? Well then, you must not be believing hard enough. Or not doing enough good works. Or not sending enough money to Africa. 

Can you not see the fallacy here? Since when did anything in the Christian life depend on how good WE are?

Face-to-face, like husband
and wife... found this photo HERE

No, God desperately wants a husband-wife bond. In other words, tenderness, love, and loyalty as the foundation for an intimate, face-to-face relationship. Up close and as personal as it gets: that is what God longs to have with us. It's a marriage to Him - whether we think of it like that or not. That's the whole point of the book of Hosea. It was a physical representation of a spiritual truth. God reached down onto the street-corner and redeemed us from a life of slavery to what other people want ... and put a ring on our finger. He wants us to listen to His wooing and turn to Him because we want to, and for no other reason than loving Him in return. That's it. No contracts, no need to measure up. Just let Him love us.

But on many days and in many ways, the tendency many of us have is to settle for the business transaction rather than the extra time and vulnerability of pillow talk. To succumb to fear - the fear of losing the blessing - rather than take the extra time and effort to embrace our Husband ... out of gratitude for His loving care and a burning passion to please Him.

Those in full-time or even heavy part-time ministry are familiar with this penchant for slipping into the idea that they "work for Him" so the relationship becomes more like punching a time clock than wrapping their arms around their Beloved. (You want to read about God's desire for intimacy with us? try Song of Solomon!) 

I don't often recommend books or videos on my blog here - perhaps I should more often, I don't know - but I stumbled across a book a few months ago that captured my attention in this area. It's Francis Chan's book, called Crazy Love. I'm including a link to his book page that has summary videos of each chapter here. I find Chan's writing engaging: meaty, yet easy to follow. He writes like he speaks, and that's a big plus because he speaks on the things about which he is passionate - and he's supremely passionate about intimacy with Jesus. There are also links on that page to his other works - notably Forgotten God (about the Holy Spirit) and Erasing Hell - the title of which is totally self-explanatory. 

Crazy Love is all about going from Baali to Ishi.  It concentrates on developing that all-too-rare relationship with Jesus that is passionate and intimate; its goal is to promote being first and not primarily doing (which will take care of itself out of sheer overflow of being.) I highly recommend the book; if you can't afford it, at least watch the videos online. 

I can't guarantee that his message will change your life. But I can say that if you're tired of going through the motions, you need to consider clicking that link.

One more night - with what?

"When do you want me to ask God to remove the plague of frogs?" asked Moses.

"Tomorrow," Pharaoh replied.

What?  Let me get this straight - you have slimy, disgusting frogs in your bed, frogs in your breakfast muesli, frogs all over the floor and in your cooking utensils, you can't walk two feet without stepping on or kicking aside a frog - and you want to spend another night with them?

Ludicrous!

Found this photo HERE

What was that all about anyway?  Why tell Moses you want to spend another night with those revolting things crawling all over you?

Frogs are fine - in their place: in the water. Some of them are actually quite pretty.  But that doesn't mean I'd want them infesting everything I owned. 

So what was behind Pharaoh's bizarre desire to spend another night with the frogs? Why would anyone want to do that?

It's the illusion (or should I say the delusion) of control. I, like so many people, like to think that i have control over my own life.  And my innate selfishness dictates that if I can convince myself that I have control over things, they will not be the master of me.  Even if they are.  It's the same argument when I know that (let's say) overeating is bad for me. It makes me feel gross, I eat until I'm in pain and then I groan for hours afterward.  

Yet what do I do the next time? I do it again. And again. And when I think about portion control and healthy food choices and being more active ... I plan to do it "next week." Or "the first of next month." Or "after Christmas." It's the delusion of control. I can't face the fact that I can't do it on my own, so I put off the painful process of facing that fact until another day.  Same as stubborn old Pharaoh.  

It's become a stock joke between my husband and me. "Um, when are you going to _____?" (Answer - next week, next month, whatever).  "Hmm. Gonna spend another night with the frogs, huh?"  And we both laugh, because we both know the uncomfortable truth - the status quo is preferable to the pain of change, even change for the better ... and we both want to believe that we have the power over when, how, and for how long that change occurs. Next week becomes next month, next month becomes after Christmas... and the thing that stands in the way is fear ... and ego.  I've heard it said that EGO stands for Edging God Out.

That sounds about right. 

So am I going to put off until next week what I know I should have faced weeks ago? Or do I want to spend another night with the frogs?

Death of an atheist

I first met Ted (not his real name) at a 12-step group that met in someone's home.  He sat, defiant, beaten by alcohol for decades but unwilling to embrace steps 2 and 3 of AA: We came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity, and We turned our will and our lives over to the care of God... 

Image from this site

He had tried every trick in the book to get sober without "the God thing."  Nothing worked.  He'd lived a hard-drinking, hard-living life, filled with booze, drugs, women, you name it. His salesman's life had taken him far and wide; he was used to living in hotels and using every mood-altering substance he could. Now he was in his sixties and even more adamant that there was no God.  He had a spite against the church so wide, you could see it written all over him.  SOMEONE (and I suspect many, MANY someones) had hurt him so very badly in the church and he had written the whole Christianity thing completely off - it was ludicrous to him.  He saw the judgmental, self-righteous attitudes of any church people he had ever been in contact with, the small-minded, religious, cliquish, rules-based and narrow lives each of them led, and wanted nothing whatsoever to do with that.  And he'd tarred God with the same brush as those who said they believed in Him.

Now the guy leading this group was saying that in order to get and stay sober, he had to believe in the God he had for so very long resisted as being the source of the behavior of these horrible people - and not only that - to give his will and his life to Him?  No.  Ted argued, he disputed, he got red in the face and it looked like he was going to physically attack this guy.  I think the only thing that kept him in his seat was the fact that the forty-something man he was so angry at ... could whip him (but good) in a fight.  

So he left.  He "went back out" as they say in recovery rooms.  He went on yet another drinking spree that left him nearly destitute, beaten into desperation by the consequences of his choices.  And like a moth to a candle flame, he was again seated in our little group. 

But he wasn't saying much.  

One night, one of our number spoke up and told his story, the story of someone who had a real hatred of God and of His people, a victim of physical and religious abuse, hypocrisy, and abandonment all in the name of God.  He told how he finally came to the end of himself and in desperation cried out for God to either kill him or cure him.  And that was the beginning of a rather uneasy but successful end to his drinking career and the beginning of a relationship with the Creator not based on hypocrisy and religion but based on truth and honesty.

Ted's face was a study in conflicting emotions.  After the meeting ended, he approached this fellow and said, "Would it be okay if I called you sometime?" The man agreed, perplexed.  Everyone there knew Ted's hostile attitude toward all things religious.  And now he was wanting to talk to someone who freely admitted that relationship with God was the only way.  

Over the course of the next few months, after heart-to-heart talks over coffee, going through the shakes, the jitters and the intolerable cravings and being able to talk about them frankly and openly with his chosen mentor (and with others of the same ilk), after long walks and talks with God about anything and everything - this God to whom he referred as "The Old Man" because he couldn't bring himself to say the word, "God" - Ted grew into a personal relationship with his Creator.  It was like watching a baby being born - miraculous, raw, delicate, new.  His life was transformed! Every facet of it burgeoned with Life.  Everything was so fresh, so vibrant, so .... passionate.  Every bit of passion with which he had hated the church and (by association) God, was now funneled into loving Him, developing relationship with Him.  His whole demeanor exuded peace and joy.  God had truly touched his life.  

The atheist had died.  A believer was born.

He even started attending a church, but more out of a desire to please God than any other thing, like social expectation. He got - and stayed - sober.  He became everything that everyone knew that he could be if only he would let God love him: a better person, a better husband, a better father.  And he was so refreshingly honest about his journey.  He'd talk about it to people, to newcomers in our group, who would listen to him because he knew what it was like.  He knew how it felt to be that hopeless, that disillusioned, to not know what this God-thing was all about.  He told them it was okay to have doubts, but if they'd just be honest with God and start talking to Him, they'd see a difference in their lives.  He was a walking miracle - he was living proof that God could do anything with anyone who would give Him a real honest chance.  And folks knew it.

One night, after his usual long walk back to his hotel room, talking with "The Old Man" the whole way, he felt very tired, so he laid down in his bed without taking his street clothes off.  

The cleaning staff found him the next day just like that.  His heart had given out.  He was gone.

We, like many others in our little band, questioned the goodness and the love of a God who would take him from his family and his friends so soon after getting his life squared away, restored, renewed. What kind of cruel joke was this, we wondered.  We missed him; we missed his ready smile, his willing heart, his generous spirit. We still do.  But we had to accept that he was immensely happy where he was, marveling in his new-found everlasting life.  Some of us did accept this, and we were able to move on.  Others ... didn't. 

Now, several months after his death, I'm even more convinced of what I was in the beginning, when he first passed away.  He was taken from us while he was still unspoiled by religion.  If he had gotten any further into the western church, any church, any denomination, he would never have survived. The rules that so many rely on to try to keep people in line would have begun to make themselves known, to hem him in, to dissect his passion (apparently a dangerous thing in religious circles because it can't be controlled) and render it powerless. The pettiness, the hypocrisy that had hurt him in the past was (and is) still rampant.  It was only a matter of time before he realized it and his faith - tenuous and fragile that it was - would have been shaken.  And he would have "gone back out" again to reject his Creator and drink himself into his grave, another sad statistic.  I'm as sure of it as I know my own name. 

So I'm not angry at God anymore for taking Ted when He did.  I miss him, yes.  I really miss him.  But I know that he's happier now than he ever was - and that he left this world in an untainted, intimate love-relationship with "The Old Man" that leaves mine in the dust. 

Yes, it was a little rough around the edges.  Yes, he had a lot to learn. (Or did he?)  Be that as it may, I can tell you that with all that is in me, there are times that I pray for God to make me more like him.  Not like the ones that are so bound up in the shoulds and oughtas that they drive people away in droves - but more like Ted, who just learned to love and be loved, completely, honestly, warts and all.

Dead Heads

My gaze fell on the lilac bush in our yard as we left to go somewhere a few days ago.  "Oh.  While I'm thinking of it, those dead heads on the lilac bush will have to be pruned off." 

My husband turned to me briefly as he drove.  "Why?"

"There were a few left on there the previous year, and I noticed that we didn't have as many blooms this year as we should have.  They won't grow back if the flowers have gone to seed and stay there until the next spring."  

"Oh.  Okay," he responded, and the topic turned to other things.

I recalled that conversation when I was out on the deck this morning and heard the snip, snip, snip of the pruning shears as he cut off those lilac dead heads. Bless him! 

Dead heads.  Past productivity.  Last year's blooms don't mean this year's buds.  It's a simple lesson.  

But how many times do I rest on my laurels and think I've arrived, that I can coast, that I don't have to 'press in' - at least not with as much intensity as before?  How many times have I focused on the result of the relationship between me and God, and forgotten that it's the relationship that did it and that it's the relationship itself that must be maintained as if no results had ever been produced? 

Ouch.  That isn't a comfortable truth is it.  It's based on a much deeper truth, one that Jesus put His finger on many years ago: "Without Me, you can do nothing." (John 15)  Not, "you can do most stuff but I have to do the rest," or even, "you can only do a few things."  Nothing.  Zero.  Nada!!  

I like to think that I am capable of doing certain things on my own.  But the truth of the matter is that even the strength to believe, even the belief itself, are gifts that God gives. The breath I breathe, the beating heart, the power of thought - these are gifts. I can take no credit for them. So why do I think that I have any power over anything?  

That's the illusion isn't it...?  I have learned certain skills in the course of my life and I know how to apply those skills to achieve a desired outcome.  And it is that which deludes me into thinking that I can do it with everything.  But ... I can't.  Especially as it pertains to producing the fruit of the Spirit in my life: love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, meekness, kindness... all those and more. 

I think that it was brilliant that Paul likened the development of those qualities in believers to fruit. Fruit come from blossoms.  They can't produce themselves.  They grow out of the living plant - symbol of the long-term relationship between a believer and God. Nurtured by the sun (the Son), water (the Holy Spirit) constantly, continually flowing through the tree, a healthy tree will produce fruit.  Naturally.  It doesn't have to grunt, strain, and work up the fruit.  It just comes.  

The most amazing believers I have known in my life have not "tried" to produce that spiritual fruit; it has just been produced as they simply let God love them, let God know them ... the way He so desires.

And once produced - the fruit must be picked, used, taken from the tree.  If trees had feelings, it would seem a little harsh at first glance to rip something that amazing away from them. But if the fruit stays there on the trees ... it. will. rot.  And no fruit will be produced there until the old fruit is removed. The usefulness of the tree will be reduced. Often, in the wild, the best fruit are produced the year following a wild autumn or winter storm that sends the fruit flying from the branches.  From the pain of loss, loss of what has already come and gone, and served its purpose in our lives - new growth can happen.

Just like with dead heads.  

Fresh fruit, fresh blossoms.  Every year. Every season. No holding back.  No self-recriminations for dry times. It is what it is. Drink in the Holy Spirit, bask in the Son, lift your branches high to the Father. He will take care of the rest, the production of leaves, flowers, fruit (as He sees fit); others will see, will feast, will rest in your shade, will breathe in your fragrance.


Dedicated to a dear friend, Agnes Hawbolt, who passed away yesterday to be with the Lover of her soul.

Fabricated faith

I remember the fairy tale of The Emperor's New Clothes.  Often.  Half the time I remember it, I've just left a church service where some well-meaning but misled person has called people to "have more faith" in order to get something from God - a healing, the resolution to an impossible problem, a financial miracle, whatever the case may be.

I don't deny that it's important to employ faith in our lives.  I don't deny that without faith it is impossible to please God. 

But there is no such thing as a faith factory or an assurance assembly-line. It can't be manufactured.  It can't be faked. It is not the product of human effort. 

I absolutely detest the popular phrase, "Fake it 'til you make it."  The idea behind it is that you "act as if" something you want (whether healing, or whatever the miracle you want, or the quality that you wish you had) is actually yours.  It isn't.  "Act as if" essentially means "Pretend."  In other words, "Lie."  

Lie to yourself - go ahead, everybody does it. (Seriously?) That doesn't jive with another term that I have come to depend on far more: "rigorous honesty."  

The way to get more faith is NOT to act as though you already have it.  The way to GET it is by admitting you DON'T have it.  And then you ASK for it.  Because, as Ephesians 2:8 so clearly points out, "... faith [is] not of yourselves." It's not self-produced; it's a divine gift... the same way grace is, the same way relationship with God is.  He takes the initiative, gives the grace AND the faith to believe.... why? so that NOT ONE of us can boast and say, "It was because I believed so much, that this miracle happened."  The truth is, it was because God decided to do it, that it happened. If we used the faith He gave us to ask for whatever it was, then we didn't cause it to happen.  We got to watch Him work; He gave us that privilege too.

This illustration from a modern version of
Andersen's tale - HERE

Faith doesn't come from a factory.  It is not man-made.  It is organic; it is life, and God is its source. It can't be manufactured.  It can't be fabricated. (Interesting fact: the word "fabrication" is another term for "falsehood" or a story invented by a human to cover up his or her nakedness.  Exactly like the Emperor's New Clothes.) 

In the well-known Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale, the sheisters came in to the king's court, and offered to make a unique suit of clothing for the emperor.  They pretended to have fabric so special that only wise people could see it.  Of course they had nothing - and everyone who saw them pantomime their creation doubted himself or herself, right on up to the emperor himself. Nobody could see anything; everyone was scared to admit it.  It took a child to point out that what these fake tailors had made was fabricated; it wasn't real at all!  Only the child had the courage to say, "The Emperor has no clothes!" The misled monarch was parading around in his underwear thinking that he was covered - when he wasn't.  All the faking it in the world wasn't going to help him make it.  The bare truth was there: he had no clothes.

Fabricated faith is what the Pharisees had - and they'd had it so long that they thought it was real!  They faked it all the time!  They put on a big show, did the whole pious act, thought themselves to have "made it."  But Jesus called them "white-washed tombs" - scrubbed meticulously clean on the outside, and full of death and decay on the inside.  If they could have achieved what was necessary by faking it, they would have had it made in the shade. But I kinda think they missed the point entirely - because they ended up killing the Point.  Instead of realizing what they had was fabricated - and getting something real from the Giver of it all - they plugged their ears and kept on in their delusion that they were doing God's will.

The point is that it is not, nor has it ever been about how worthy a person is, or how able a person is to drum up enough faith to twist God's arm into doing something.  It's all about how worthy HE is.  His initiative, His plan, His grace, His faith, His salvation, His perseverance, His love. 

We just get to go along for the ride.
:D

Spiritual Superstars

I have what I call spidey-senses.  I don't know if anyone else does - probably so, although they'd call it something different - but when my mind tells me that I'm in danger, I feel a tingling, a prickling inside, something that tells me things are not right, that there's something to be avoided or stopped, that I need to watch it or I'll get hurt.  Or that something is just plain wrong with the whole situation. 

I get it when I feel like I'm being watched.  Or when I walk into a crowd of people (I have demophobia) - or when I hear some dude on the TV talking about the end of the world and starting to set specific dates and knowing that people are going to actually believe that nonsense and send the guy money!! 

My spidey-senses also tingle when I hear people talk about this or that spiritual leader as if there is some sort of special, one-of-a-kind gift this person has.  The statement, "We need to have this person come here or we need to go where he or she is, in order for God to work in our lives (or in our church)," makes my skin crawl.  It implies that the person talking thinks that this 'gifted' person has some kind of corner on God's presence, that ordinary people like us can't get in touch with Him.  

I remember our pastor warning us about this mentality a couple of years back - this "clergy vs laity" idea that is insidious in our religion (and by religion I mean man-made rules)-based church culture.  This is the idea that the clergy (or those 'gifted' people) have the call and the anointing of God on their lives and that the laity (or the rest of us) don't.  The outflow of such a belief is that the laity sits back and lets the clergy do the work of preaching, visiting the sick, and so forth (thus leading to high levels of burnout in the ministry) - all the while thinking only the clergy is qualified to do what God wants done. It also tends to arrogance in the clergy and in laziness (starting to believe the accolades of men), and to subservience and the "herd mentality" in the laity - which inevitably leads to disillusionment when the leader or the "gifted one" inevitably falls into scandal.

Got this picture HERE

I've been speculating about the source of this mentality.  I believe it's a basic insecurity about some folks' ability to have a vital relationship with God that is what's behind this tendency they have to think that this or that person has a "revival anointing" or "prophetic ministry" or "healing ministry."  Or whatever.  

Perhaps it's "Old Testament" thinking - where God's presence seemed to rest on one particular person for a specific period of time for a certain task.  

But when the New Testament came along - that is, when Jesus brought in the New Way and the Holy Spirit became accessible to all believers... every believer not only has the potential but actually IS a priest.  IS a saint.  IS a child of God - not just in the generic sense but in the adoptive sense (the adoption papers signed in blood at Calvary and sealed at the bodily resurrection of Jesus!) 

It is part of human nature to want to fixate on something we can see, on someone we can see, rather than to have a relationship with Someone we can't see.  That's why the human race, in the journey of faith, has always had its superstars: Moses, Joshua, Gideon, David, Elijah, the apostles, and so forth - but these people would have been the first to admit that it had nothing to do with their abilities or their "giftedness" that they were instruments in God's hand to accomplish His work.  No, they'd more likely say that it was God's choice, and God's initiative, not theirs.  That they were just ordinary people and the real extraordinary Person was God Himself.  That anyone could have that relationship with God - and be just as much an instrument in His hand, and that it doesn't take greatness to do that. 

It takes a realization of HIS greatness.  An understanding that HE is the only True Superstar.  That people are merely people, and as such, fallible.  I can respect the office someone holds, yes.  I can recognize that ministers or church leaders have a responsibility before God to watch over me and to give account of their own actions concerning me.  But it doesn't mean that I put them up on pedestals and assume that they have "the goods" and I don't.  Or that I can only fly with the assistance of their spiritual superstar cape. 

From the very beginning of human history, God has invited humans into relationship with Him - even in the time of Moses, that was His original plan.  But the people didn't want that.  They wanted God to speak to Moses and MOSES to speak to them.  They were afraid of that kind of all-pervasive intimacy.  

Am I?  Am I afraid that if I were to embrace God the way He so desires, that I would be consumed? Do I believe it's safer to ride someone else's coattails into His presence?  

Am I willing to worship and to serve only the True Superstar?

Impossible grace

Have you ever heard someone say that God never gives us anything to do that is too much for us?  I have.  And I used to accept that statement without question.

But wait a second. The Bible is FULL of people to whom God gave impossible tasks - only to show that they couldn't do them and HE could - so that those watching would know that He was God!

Joshua. Gideon. Jehoshaphat.  King David (remember Goliath? all those impossible battles?) Nehemiah. Elijah. Moses. Hosea the prophet being told to marry a prostitute and keep taking her back when she went out sniffing after other men (now THAT's an impossible task!) The list is endless. And none of these people were able to do any of those things God asked unless and until they were empowered by Him. 

It's human nature, I'm afraid, to want to do it on our own.  It's what got the human race into trouble in the first place, I seem to recall.  A lot of people laud the ones who, out of sheer pluck and determination, persevere and succeed.  Many aspire to be like them, to achieve great things. But the ones who admire such people don't see how inadequate they feel, how much pressure they are under, just to keep up the facade.  Self-reliance isn't all it's cracked up to be.

I'm not saying not to try to accomplish things with the talents God has given us, nor am I saying not to hone those skills.  What I'm saying is that it's unrealistic for me to expect God never to give me anything that is beyond my grasp, because if He did, I would never learn to depend on Him.  

And I SO need to depend on Him, to reach beyond my own capabilities (my own flesh) and tap into His endless strength.  For, you see, that is another part of Grace: the ability to do in the supernatural power of God that which is impossible for mere humans to do.  I'm not necessarily talking about gob-stopping miracles here: healing the sick, raising the dead, etc., and I'm not talking about the select few, the elite who seem to have "more of God" than the average Joe or Jane Christian. (Oh, don't get me started on Christian superstars. That's a whole other post!)

I'm talking about the consistent, day-by-day God-given strength to put one foot in front of the other when life is HARD and everything in my being says to pull the covers up over my head.  I'm talking about praying for the right words to say to comfort or encourage a friend - and the words just come, exactly at the right time.  I'm talking about the courage and empowerment and discernment that God gives to accept people and circumstances that are beyond my control, to change in me what needs to be changed, and to know where the line is between the two. 

I don't have the ability to do those things myself.  I suppose I might be able to do some of it for a little while, and perhaps fool someone into thinking I was someone great.  But it would inevitably end in bitter and desolate defeat.  How do I know?  Because that's where I lived - in Religion-Land.  Following the rules, playing the game, trying to one-up the next guy, trying to appear holy.  It was a crock.  I was all bound up in what people thought, what people might think, that I didn't have any joy or freedom in my life.  

Letting go of my need to control the outcome was the first step in learning how to live.  REALLY live - FEEL alive, enjoy the moment.  I learned - slowly - how to depend on God and cease from my own efforts to get the results I wanted.  Instead, I had to learn to let Him lead, to do what He said with His enabling power, and to let HIM take care of the results.  

It works, too.  A bonus is how liberating that is: how the weight of the whole world, of trying to take responsibility for everyone else's consequences, lifted from my back.  

I still have times when I slip back into that cesspool of trying to do things, trying to live the life that Jesus talked about, without His direction and strength - "just this once."  I skirt the borders of Religion-Land and hear its familiar siren song.  I succumb to its heady allure - the praise of others.  And I inevitably fall flat on my face. 

Then I remember that it's impossible without His Grace.  Every moment.  Every day, all the time.  No letting up.  It's only possible by me leaning hard on Him - and Him living His life through me, lavishly and unreservedly giving me His undeserved, outrageous, impossible grace.