Christmas Spirit

I assume that you all know that Jesus was not born on December 25th. Constantine chose that day to commemorate the birth of Jesus because it was the date of Saturnalia, celebrated four days after the winter solstice (December 21, so four days makes it December 25) to celebrate the hope of spring eventually returning after the longest night of the year. He did that with Christmas and with Easter (used by followers of Demeter, the goddess of fertility, to celebrate new life). 

Jesus was more likely born in the spring. You see, the shepherds outside Bethlehem would be watching their flocks by night only when the lambs were new - and they usually are born in February or March. The reason they had to watch the flocks was that the Bethlehem lambs were in hot demand for temple sacrifices at Passover time, which would happen in just a few weeks. It is likely that the Messiah, the Lamb of God, would be born around Passover time, which was in the spring of the year (March or April). 

The quaint little stable crêches that we see, with Jesus set into a wooden manger in a wooden barn with a thatched or shingled roof. But stables in those days were caves, not constructed buildings. And mangers were made out of large rocks with openings in them, sort of like dugout canoes ... but made of rock instead of wood. When Jesus was wrapped in swaddling bands (strips of cloth intended to allow the baby's legs to straighten out when the cloth was wrapped tightly around the infant's body) and laid in the manger, He looked like a mummy laid out in a tomb, with only the face uncovered. The symbolism is hard to miss here. 

And then there are the trappings of our traditional Christmas. The decorated evergreen tree comes from the Druid religion, some say. In the Dark Ages, these ancient Celts practiced animal and human sacrifices. 

Mistletoe, garlands, lights on trees, wreaths, and so much more come from either Celtic or Norse mythology. There is nothing specifically "Christian" about them. (Don't even get me started on Santa Claus!) Yet we decorate our trees, adorn our lawns and homes with lights, hang mistletoe, set a wreath on our door, all without thinking about where the original ideas came from.  

But regardless of their origin, or of the correct date (which would change every year because the Hebrew calendar is based on a 360-day year with a bonus year approximately every 50 years), we celebrate the FACT of Jesus' birth, and we believe that in that birth, God the Son was made flesh and became a human through a spiritual union with the seed of the woman. This "seed of the woman" is a reference to Genesis chapter 3, where Adam chose to eat of the forbidden fruit knowingly, and Eve, who gave it to him, was deceived (by the serpent) instead of rebellious. 

Therefore that holy child was conceived without sin one summer around 7 BC, and the shepherds bore witness to His arrival less than a year later. 

Portrait of a Baby Sheep in the Farm
by ponsulak at www.freedigitalphotos.net

Why am I going on about this right now? Because I celebrate Christmas on December 25, regardless of when His real birth day was. Yet I and my family don't celebrate with a big display or with huge gifts or going into debt or getting trapped into this whole "outdoing one another" thing that people do in so many places during the holidays. In fact, for a few years now, we've been going without the evergreen tree with real or artificial needles - as our youngest cat is allergic and has seizures when she eats the needles in the night. And frankly, we are seriously considering replacing our (now) pre-lit birch tree with a nice nativity scene, very simple with only the main players present: Jesus, Joseph, Mary, and three or four shepherds with a couple of lambs, maybe a donkey and a goat. 
_
No sages (they came over a year later); no fancy clothing. Just a simple carpenter with his young wife and a mystery baby squirming in what looked like mummy's wrappings, twisting gently like some developing butterfly... and shepherds speaking in hushed tones, wide-eyed with wonder, whispering about how the messengers they'd seen could be so accurate. All of them were huddled in the most unlikely of places: a cave used to house livestock and protect them from the rain and from wild animals. 

No fanfare. No twinkling lights. No red carpet. 

Just Jesus.

The heart of the matter

There's no getting around it. Life isn't easy. Sometimes stuff happens that is really difficult. Sometimes even survival itself seems impossible. Sometimes we wonder if things will ever be normal, if we'll ever experience any joy or peace. Sometimes the power of the old life we used to lead bears consequences that have repercussions on our current life, trying to kill us inside, trying to rob us of our joy, trying to destroy what we've worked so hard for. Sometimes those people from that old life try to drag us back down into the muck with them. 

It happens. It doesn't seem fair but it does happen. We wonder sometimes whether the fact that we belong to Jesus gives us any kind of 'edge' at all, or whether it just makes us more of a target. We may even wonder where God is in all of what is happening to us. 

Here's some truth that may bring a bit more clarity to whatever situation we are facing.  If we belong to Jesus, if we believe in His deity and have confessed that God the Father raised Him bodily from the dead, He has freed us, and taken up residence inside of us. In reality, He lives inside of our hearts.

Free photo by jclk8888 at Pixabay

What difference does that make? Well, to answer that, I need to talk about what the heart is. It isn't the physical organ that pumps blood. The heart, in Scripture, is that deep-down part of us that makes us who we are; it is the core of our being. God, who cannot allow sin to enter His presence, lives inside of us and has made us new creations, holy and acceptable in His sight, for the sole purpose of being our Friend for all time and eternity. Isn't that wild?

So no matter what happens, no matter what the present is like or what the future holds, we have this to hold onto: He loves us enough to live inside of us, accept us, create in us a new heart - one that is pure and whole - and protect that heart for time and eternity. That kind of love transforms our little trials here into opportunities to get to know Him better. It gives us the chance to lean hard on Him, to prove Him faithful and trustworthy. His love gives us the courage to face each new day. It inspires us to persevere. It reminds us that we are never alone. It changes us from the inside out. It helps us to accept ourselves. It strengthens us to learn and to grow. It makes us grateful and compassionate toward ourselves. 

This truly is the simplicity of the good news. God loves us. He loves us and lives inside of us through the finished work of Jesus on our behalf. He lives within us. And He will finish what He has started (Philippians 1:6).  He will never abandon us. Never. Not even once. And whatever happens, He will make it turn out for good, even if others mean it for evil (remember the story of Joseph in the book of Genesis?) 

God's got this. He's got you. And you've got Him. That's the heart of the matter.

The Dividing Line

For the last few decades, but especially the last four-plus years, I've watched it with growing alarm. Otherwise wonderful people, committed Christians, good-living, God-fearing individuals, are fighting and losing friendships and even relationships with family members - now even in public fora like social media - about things that (to my way of thinking) should not even be an issue.  Politics.  Doctrine.  Human rights. 

Seriously?  When Jesus said that He came to bring division in Luke 12:51, He wasn't talking about these kinds of obsessions. He was talking about the simplicity of the Good News.  He was talking about Himself, about the Scandalon (the stumbling stone) of the Gospel. He was predicting family members turning each other in (in other words, turning in believing family members), ratting on them to the authorities because of their own lack of belief in Him. 

As for those who are fellow-believers, Jesus prayed in John 17 that they would be united - that they would be as united with each other and with Him as He was with the other members of the Trinity. Not in the sense that we all believe the same way about the same things, but in the sense of loving and accepting each other the way we are, in spite of our differences in thought or method. 

He said nothing of external politics. He said nothing of believers hating and bullying one another over piffling little details that mean nothing. 

Photo "Girls Looking At Each Other" courtesy of Stuart Miles
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

The dividing lines that I've noticed lately have been whether this or that leader is the right one for our respective countries. Or whether women should or should not preach. Or whether someone is white or a person of colour and whether that matters. Or whether certain people should be allowed to fall in love with each other and get married. Or whether people do or do not have the right to identify as male or female, or other. Or whether climate change does or does not exist. Each side -by and large - uses scripture as a weapon against the other.

Again I say, SERIOUSLY??

Ever since the dawn of humanity, there have been differences of opinion. And there will continue to be differences of opinion. Trump, Trudeau, democracy, socialism, feminism, etc., etc. Pick a topic, and someone has at least one opinion about it.  I even know someone who has three opinions on just about everything, and who will argue with herself without even anyone there in the room with her! 

But all these differences of opinion -- especially if we are believers -- are opportunities to show love to each other rather than excuses to fight one another. Otherwise, we poison our own testimony. And the cause of Christ suffers.

The world sees us fighting one another, putting one another down publicly, making fun of each other, and so forth, and what is the first thing they think? "If that's what being a 'Christian' is, I want no part of it."  And they are perfectly justified in saying so. Some believers, wanting no part of what passes for Christianity today, have decided that even though they believe in Jesus, they no longer want to be considered Christian because of the negative image it conjures up.

ENOUGH!! 

I submit another, more deserving, dividing line: a line in the changing sand of the times, so to speak. And I dare each of us to cross it, and to pay attention to the changing times while we do it. That dividing line is LOVE.

Enough with beating each other up over things that won't matter in a hundred years. Enough with trying to look good by making other people look bad. Enough with the martyr mentality (oh look at me, I'm the only one who has it right and you're just making me suffer...). Enough with the siege mentality where it's 'them against us'. Or 'us against them' more accurately....whoever "them" is! Most likely, it's usually the current villain in the crusader-mindset of religious folks: anyone that doesn't look like, act like, or think like we do. 

Come on, admit it - we've all done it in one way or another. We find a way to set ourselves apart from other folks. This kind of practice has earned itself the term of "othering" - treating another group of people as "less than" us because of some sort of difference we feel uncomfortable with. So let's step over that line from "othering" to "ANothering" where we love one ANother, bear one ANother's burdens, meet one ANother's needs. It doesn't mean we have to be doormats, but it does mean that we need to accept one ANother the way each of us is. 

And I think that Jesus would do the same. I know He did with me.

Day of Rest

There was a time, a few years ago, when I looked forward to Sundays  -  well, SOME Sundays at least  -  because I was in worship ministry and I knew and enjoyed spending time with the people on my worship team.  The leaders were Spirit-filled and Spirit-led - and worship was a pure joy, so much so that when I entered in, there was nobody that I was aware of except for my Savior and me. My husband agreed. For a while, it was marvelous.

Then those people left. They had another ministry opportunity elsewhere, and after they were gone, it seemed as though the life and soul went out of that place for us. Others came in to take their place, but that sense of being led by the Spirit gradually got replaced by a sense of duty and obligation. When that happened, church became an effort, and we noted how we spent a good five or six hours in that place on a Sunday, and came home exhausted, dead tired, from the sheer effort it took to navigate petty bickering, personality clashes, and politics. More and more we dreaded going to church. 

Finally, for those reasons and more besides, we realized that the organized church was not the place for us. We were burnt down to the core, used up, and spit out. People only wanted us around for our talents - and sometimes not even then. Error began to creep into the preaching - not the kind of error that questions if angels do or don't have wings, but the kind of error that made Christianity more about internal politics, external performance, and following an arbitrary set of rules than it did about acceptance, love and grace. As we stood on the platform and ministered, and even had time limits put on that, we felt as though our being there was a form of support for (and therefore agreement with) this kind of fear-based thinking. We wanted no part of that.

So after much prayer and soul-searching, we left. That was August 2015. 

Image "Couple Having Breakfast" courtesy of Ambro
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

Since that time, we have grown to love Sundays again. It truly is a day of rest for us.  For one thing, we no longer dicker over whether Saturday or Sunday is the sabbath. Technically Saturday is, but we have long thought of Sunday as our day of rest, and as long as it is one day in seven (which we never had before; Sunday was our busiest day!) we figure it's all good. We finally can rest one day in seven!! For another thing, we can sleep in without guilt, leisurely have breakfast and talk to one another, spend time together, and do things we enjoy doing: reading, listening to music, going for a stroll, whatever. 

What's more, we are closer to God now than we have ever been in our lives. "What do you do for fellowship?" we hear church members ask us again and again when they hear us say we don't "go to church."  And we chuckle.  Back then, we "fellowshipped" by rubbing shoulders with people, shaking their hands (when we were told to) and talking about superficial things like the weather or sports or the latest style of boots, or whatever. Now, God sets up our fellowship (and so much more often than just once a week!) and we discuss deep spiritual things, we open up about our joys and struggles, and we pray for each other. It's koinonia - a real, living, fluid community, and we are so much more free than we have ever been. We have seen God heal, restore, encourage, and lift up our brothers and sisters, without ever setting foot inside a church building, because "where two or three are gathered together in My name, there I am in the midst."

And it happens all the time. Not just Sundays, but nearly every day of the week, in some form or other. We are happier, more at peace, more filled with joy, and growing in love and acceptance. We have seen God meet needs miraculously, whether physical or financial or emotional. It's exciting, quite frankly! And it gives us a sense of calmness and rest to live in that stream of loving community.  

So, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go read some more. And maybe I'll even take a short nap. Life is good. :)

Kids kids

It was about 1994. My two children, barely aged 5 and 2, were running around the church sanctuary as the worship team was practicing the songs. I let them run because nobody else was there yet for the service, but as people started to file in, I began to tighten the reins.

"People are coming in," I told them. "Time to stop running and play quietly."

They listened - for as long as small children's attention span lasts. Especially when one of them has undiagnosed ADHD. 

So they started making noises and playing under the seat. Their giggles mingled with thumps their feet made on the underside of the pew as they lay on the floor. Occasionally one of them would run around and I would have to go and catch the offending one (usually the youngest) and cart them back. 

I was getting more and more frustrated as more and more adults turned toward me and glared.

Free Image courtesy of chriswolf at Pixabay.com

One of the greeters at the entryway was a large, jovial man named Blair.  He watched the kids and saw my frustration. As I was carting my toddler back for the fourth time (it felt like the tenth), Blair touched my arm. I stopped, still holding the child under my arm like a football. By this time, the oldest was coming closer to investigate.

Blair smiled at me. "I'm going to tell you something that my kids' Ukranian grandmother said to me when our children were their age," he announced, jerking his head toward my children. He looked me straight in the eye and said slowly, "Kids kids."

I stared back at him quizzically, confused by his statement. "Kids kids?" I queried. 

He chuckled. "She didn't speak English all that well. What she meant was that children are going to be children no matter where they are. And they are children for such a short time. So let them be children." 

He grinned as I slowly grasped his meaning. He was encouraging me as a mother - saying that it wasn't so horrible of me to let my kids play - because after all, they were children! To let them be children was the best gift I could give them.

That statement helped form my (and our) parenting decisions from that time onward. If they wanted to play at church, I'd take them into the foyer (or outside if I could) and let them play themselves out, rather than subject a teacher to them fidgeting and their excess of energy. 

If they wanted to go into Cubs instead of Brownies, into Cubs they went - and excelled! The oldest wanted to go into Scouts - so we supported her when the time came. And when she decided on her own that it wasn't for her, we supported that too. 

We encouraged each of them to plunge into whatever they wanted and we didn't force them into activities they had no interest in. As a result, they decided to take swimming classes together - something their mom had never had the courage to do! The oldest was in her junior high school band for a little over three years, learned to play the flute, and dropped out of senior high school band when she got a "creepy teacher" (who eventually was discovered to be too "friendly" toward some of his girl pupils...) and the youngest discovered she had a gift (among the other gifts she had) for using her hands. She developed an interest in carpentry and welding before she passed away in 2013 in a car crash. 

Each person has unique gifts and fills a special place in the world that only they can fill. And it all came into focus for me that day when a man named Blair took the time to encourage a young, harried mother. 

He also had another saying, which he said quite often: "It's nice to be nice."  And he lived by it.  Thank you, Blair. Thank you.

 

Here - Through it all

Through it all, through it all my eyes are on You;
Through it all, through it all it is well.
Through it all, through it all my eyes are on You,
And it is well ... with me.  (c) Kristene DiMarco, Bethel Music

I just finished reading an amazing article. It's about photographs taken from INSIDE THE EYE of Hurricane Dorian while it was still a Category 2 Hurricane off the coast of the United States. 

It's full of birds. All kinds of birds!  Flying, sitting in the still water if they are able to swim, resting on anything that floats if they can't swim, they stay in the eye of the storm until it makes landfall, where they stay. If ships are in the eye of the storm, they rest on the ship.  

Amazing.  

This is a photo of Tropical Cyclone Catarina,
clearly showing the eye of the storm, courtesy of
a contributor to Pixabay.com

The analogy is plain between this image and the storms of life, so I won't belabour it here. But the mental picture of the eye of the storm being calm and a refuge for those caught in it ... is a powerful one. I can think of several incidents, not only in my life but in those of others, where this is the reality: we have stayed in the midst of turbulent circumstances and yet there has been an inner calm, a 'peace that surpasses all understanding' (Phil 4:7), that has steadied us and been a refuge for us. It's not that we are unaffected by the storm at all, it's just that our  focus has been on the One who is the Centre of all things. 

I've experienced a real hurricane before. Hurricane Juan (Sept. 29, 2003) visited our province and caused all kinds of damage to property, shoreline, and power lines.  We had not been listening to or watching the news for the previous few days, and I had been on vacation so away from the office grapevine, so we were totally unprepared. During the fury of the storm that morning, my husband and I felt we had to go outside because water was pouring over the edges of our rain gutters. 

We were soaked to the skin within two seconds, and we got the ladder out anyway. I held the extension ladder while hubby went up and cleared out the debris from the gutters, a job that we have since learned must be done in mid-summer. The rain and wind were blinding; the wind itself ripped our breath away from us, and we had to keep our chins tucked down to our chests to be able to breathe. And we were only out there for about five minutes. We lost three of our eleven shade trees in that storm. 

In hindsight, it was kind of crazy of us to venture outside. But we did experience the strength of a Category 1 hurricane - as least as much as we ever want to (if we wanted to, which I doubt). I'll never forget it. 

Yet, through it all, we were protected. We discovered a large, one-foot-in-diameter tree limb suspended in the maple tree that was right next to our house. It had been ripped off one of our other trees and became a projectile that was hurtling right at our picture window. And the maple tree's limbs caught it and didn't allow it to travel further. A mini-tornado (common in hurricanes, I've been told) landed on one of our other large shade trees (60 feet tall) and twisted it at the trunk as if it was a matchstick, slamming it onto the lawn. That tree was about 25 feet from our front door. When it hit the ground, it hit at an angle about 60 degrees to the house, so it missed us completely, still tethered by a portion of its own trunk to the ground. 

As I ponder this event, I am overwhelmed by a sense of divine protection - even in our ignorance - during Juan's devastating visit. And as Hurricane Dorian nears our province later today, I am trusting in God's protection for us and our home and property. 

And for the storms of our lives and circumstances, I am trusting that same kind of protection in the emotional and spiritual sense. I know we are in the Centre. 

So it's all good. Through it all, it is well ... with me. With us. 
He is here in the midst.

All Things New

"Behold, I make all things new." (Revelation 21:5)
"If anyone is in Christ, (they are) a new creation. The old is gone; the new has come!" (2 Cor. 5:17)

I am my own worst enemy, it seems. The good that people see in me, I don't usually see in myself. Sometimes I get a glimpse, but most of the time I see the glaring faults and weaknesses that seem to thwart me at every turn. But lately, I have been meditating on what God says about me as a regenerated, born-again believer. And what I have been learning is slowly changing how I see myself. And it is increasing my love for and trust in the One who made it possible.

Paul wrote, "I know that in me, that is in my flesh, dwells no good thing." (Romans 7)... but what he goes on to say is that "it is no longer I that does it; it is sin within me."  Basically he says, "Hey. I know it seems hopeless sometimes to do what's right. I do the wrong thing far too much. BUT THAT ISN'T ME." He explains that in his inner man (the regenerated one) he longs to do God's will. That is his real heart. That's what he longs for. That's who he is. 

Image by David Castillo Dominici
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

In reality, God has taken out his heart of stone and given him a new heart, as He promised way back in Ezekiel 36. And if we belong to Jesus, He has done the same for you and for me. Our hearts are no longer "desperately wicked" (as many churches teach to their members) for according to the Word of God, He has created us anew. In other words, He has given us new hearts; He - through the last Adam - has made our hearts good. Our hearts ... my heart ... is good. What a mind-blowing concept!

There is a chorus of a recently written song that goes, "You say I am loved when I can't feel a thing; You say I am strong when I think I am weak. You say I am held when I am falling short; When I don't belong, oh You say I am Yours. And I believe; I believe what You say of me. I believe." (Lauren Daigle, 2018)

If I truly believed what He says of me, who I am in Him, how differently would I live my life! How confident, how fierce in prayer could I be!  How present I could be in my life! How I could joyfully LIVE instead of stumbling through each day!

So what's holding me back? Lauren Daigle had it by the horns: "I believe what You say of me." How simple is that! 

God's appointments

"Disappointments are God's appointments." - Nancy Ravenhill

The way is rough. The way is long and hard. Nettles stick in the feet. Stones stub the toes. Bruises, bleeding, and questioning are the rules of the day. And then God comes alongside and speaks to the heart of the matter. The weariness lifts, the ache eases, and doubt subsides. 

Ever have one of those times when you didn't know if you were even on the right path, but all you could do was keep plodding? and then God meets your need and speaks to you through the darkness, and a little light comes on inside? It's almost as if the sky clears and the sun rises after a dark and rainy night. You want to tell everyone you know - Rejoice with me! Isn't this fantastic? Wow! God met me where I was, and He really came through for me!! Woo-HOOOO!!

Image "Sunrise At First Sight" by Keattikorn at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

I had the privilege of watching that happen for someone today. It had been quite the rough patch and he wondered if there was even anyone out there who cared ... and then an act of kindness blew him away and he was left completely floored, amazed at the goodness of God and of those who share His heart for those who are in need. We shared in that rejoicing that comes when the poor widow finds the lost coin, when a prayed-for miracle happens, when God meets a need that seemed impossible. It was truly inspiring to see that, to be part of that experience.

And we spontaneously worshipped God together. God's presence was there in power in that humble little place, and we enjoyed true fellowship. We were sharing Scripture with each other, and listening to uplifting music whenever God would lead in that direction. We didn't decide, "Well, now I think we'll have church. Pull out the hymnbooks Martha May."  There was no organ, no offering plate, no trappings of any kind; just us. Yet Jesus was there, just as sure as we were, "in the midst." And He was (like we were) grinning from ear to ear all afternoon and well into the evening. It was one of God's appointments, and we were there to enjoy it and be grateful for it.

Life's trials are hard, no question of that. But I wonder sometimes if we've gotten it backward when we question His motives after we've prayed and nothing happens. Perhaps life's disappointments are rather opportunities for God to involve people who hear His voice, and allow those people to participate in what He is doing to answer someone's prayer, meet a need, or bring blessing to someone who needs it. 

I think that's how the early church operated. If there was a need, people stepped up and met that need in Jesus' name. Givers and receivers alike could rejoice in the goodness of the same God who allowed them to join in what God was doing in both of their lives: the receivers by receiving, and the givers by giving, both knowing that it is God who is the source!

Every day could then be an adventure, and there were endless opportunities for God's people to hear His voice and keep one of His appointments with someone who needed something special to remind them that God was looking after them. I'm not sure if that makes any sense to anyone, but there is a sense of community in that kind of sharing. 

And this kind of community, I believe, is what the writer of Hebrews meant when he said not to forsake the assembling of ourselves together ... and so much the more, as we see the day approaching (11:25). Get together! Visit! See each other! Share frequently what God is doing! Meet each other's needs, if God so leads! This is the kind of dynamic that I believe the early church had, and they did NOT have a budget or a building to maintain (I'm just saying). 

And this grass-roots community, these God-appointments, or simply put, God setting stuff up so we can share His goodness and His provision, is something we've been experiencing more and more the last few years, with several individuals as God brings people our way. Sometimes, we get some inkling in advance.  Sometimes, it happens when we least expect it. 

Either way, it's exciting. It's inspiring. It's marvelous!!

Delegated Authority

I work for the government in a job where I make decisions about eligibility for benefits. I apply the legislation and provide an impartial decision with reasons for that decision if I say no. My signature can also release funds to successful applicants based on an assessment of their disability.

But the power I have to make such decisions doesn't come from me. It comes from the Minister of my department. It's called "delegated authority" and it means that I have the right, as a disability adjudicator, to make decisions on behalf of the Minister. 

And it's that kind of delegated authority I would like to talk about in the spiritual sense and more specifically in the area of prayer for the sick. So welcome to the message I have burning through my heart, aching to be shared.

I went through all the gospels not that long ago, and I tried to find even one instance where Jesus ASKED GOD to heal someone or perform a miracle of any kind. Know how many times that happened?

Zero. 
Zilch. 
Nada. 
Zip.

When Jesus sent out seventy of His disciples to the countryside in pairs, He didn't tell them to ask the Father to heal, or to ask Him, even. He said, "Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons." (Matt. 10:8). So how did they do this? Yes, it was His power, His authority, but they did it like they saw Jesus do it... every single day. 

And how did Jesus do it? If He didn't pray to the Father to do it, how did He go about it? 

Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.
From this site

Simple. 

He spoke to the problem. He didn't plead for God to take it away; He TOLD it to leave. And it did. Every. Single. Time. 

I know, I know; I can hear you now. "What about 'if it be Your will'?" Well, let's look at that. When did Jesus say that to His Father? in Gethsemane! He was facing the greatest trial of His life (spoiler: the cross!), and naturally wanted to get out of it (umm HUMAN!) and it was THEN that He said "if it be Thy will." Hmmm. NEVER did He say that phrase in relation to healing someone. That's kind of revealing in itself, isn't it?

Isn't it just? The only time He prayed ANYTHING before a miracle was at Lazarus' tomb, and ONLY for the benefit of those in earshot. And moreover, there was no request at all. When He prayed, it was to thank the Father for hearing Him. That's ALL. And then He spoke to the dead man, and called him out of the tomb. 

I know the objections. I had them too. The person doing that kind of healing has to have a lot of faith. Yes, there is a lot of faith involved.  But here's the thing. It's not YOUR faith. It's not MY faith. It's JESUS' faith.  

Hear what I have to say. Romans 6:23 - "It is by grace you have been saved through faith, and that [that is, faith] not of yourselves. It is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast." 

Not convinced? Try Galatians 2:20, the last part of the verse, "...and the life I live now, I live by faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me..." Did you notice it doesn't say faith IN the Son of God... but faith OF the Son of God?  Folks, it's JESUS' faith! 

This means that I don't have to drum up my own faith or work myself into a frenzy for it; I just need to rely on the faith of Jesus, which is Rock-Solid! Resting in His infinite faith, I can speak to the sick (germs, sickness) with authority (because He has granted delegated authority to do so) and the sick people will recover. (That is in one of the accounts of the Great Commission, by the way.) And so can you.

Me? Really? 

Yes. You. Really.

When I first stumbled on the concept of speaking TO the problem and speaking in the authority of Jesus' faith --- it revolutionized my Christian walk. No longer was I pulling my faith up by the roots every week or so to see if it was growing. I focused on intensifying intimacy with God, and spoke to problems as they arose in the mighty name (authority) of Jesus. And let me tell you ... IT WORKS. So far, since about 2 years ago, I have lost count of the number of times people have been helped, healed, been strengthened, had needs met, and been built up physically and/or spiritually when I have used Jesus' faith and spoken into their lives - family, friends, perfect strangers, you name it, regardless of distance and regardless of whether they were aware of me doing it. 

It's amazing. It's revolutionizing. It's very humbling. And yes, it's even FUN. The feeling of being on an adventure is something I couldn't have foreseen, but it happens every time I am led to speak life or healing into someone's situation. And it happens a LOT more frequently than could be explained by just coincidence. And I am so very grateful... it's hard to describe how that is, but it just is. That He would trust me (and you) with that kind of authority - is very humbling... yet invigorating!

Let your hearts be encouraged. Let your minds be expanded. Let the peace of God reign. Let go of your doubts and let God's love motivate your spirit.  Take the place of authority you were meant to have. You will NEVER regret it.

Mothers Day

For all of my adult life, I have dreaded Mothers Day.  I thought of it as a day where people were gushing on about their mothers, how wonderful they were, how lucky they were to have such wonderful people who loved them unconditionally.

And I would compare their experience to mine and come up WAY short. Not everyone's mother is a saint, I would say. Of course nobody would believe that my growing-up years were so awful, especially after they met my mom. But the woman they met was not the woman I knew. They were totally unaware of what happened behind closed doors, and she liked it like that. And that, as Forrest Gump said, is all I have to say about that.

All that aside, soon after the death of my youngest daughter in a car crash, I started to rethink Mothers Day. This time, I started thinking about it from the other side - instead of me gushing on about my mother, I could look at it as my family honoring me AS a mother. 

Image by Liz Noffsinger at www.freedigitalphotos.net

That changed my perspective a bit. Especially when I look at how my relationship with my daughters changed after I got into therapy - hard to believe that was over 10 years ago!! - and I started to understand about personal boundaries. 

What I mean by personal boundaries is how everyone has them (including me), how I need to take a step back and not try to control everyone's thoughts, beliefs, and actions, and just let life happen, let people be who they are, and allow them to bear the consequences of their own actions without trying to fix them. 

That realization that everyone has boundaries (see my page on "What is Codependency?" on this blog) literally revolutionized my life and my relationships with my husband and my kids! I learned a whole new way of living life, and I would never go back to the way it was. That new lifestyle was a gift; it gave me another four and a half years of good relationship with my youngest before she passed away, and it has allowed me to grow and become a better person and a better mom. 

So instead of looking at Mothers Day as a time to honour my own mother (thus living a lie in my own mind - she was my abuser, not what everyone thinks of when they think of the typical concept of motherhood) I started to see the day differently: it became a way to celebrate the mom I am becoming. It became a means to let my children express their gratitude to me, and not robbing them of that experience like I did before. 

And instead of spouting all sorts of platitudes about HAVING a mom and feeling resentful of those people who had that gift in their lives, I could literally celebrate BEING a mom, breaking the cycle of abuse, and starting a new, gentle, accepting, and loving legacy. And that shift in focus helped me survive the annual dread-fest in the month of May at the beginning, and actually (as time went on) look forward to the second Sunday of May.

It's been a slow and sometimes painful change at times. As my own mother ages and gets further into her age-related dementia, she has already completely forgotten the things she did and said to make my life a living hell when I was growing up. And - though it surprises me to say it - it's become less and less important to me to have people believe my story, and more and more important to BE the kind of mother that I wish I had, the kind who showed her love in private instead of just in public, who supported me and who believed in me. She was rarely like that with me because she didn't want me to become prideful, but that fact doesn't keep me from choosing to be that loving, caring, accepting person with my loved ones. I can give them what I never was allowed to have: a chance to believe in themselves, to take pride in their accomplishments, and to have their own voice.

I've also been rethinking my reaction to others' desire to honour their mothers on Mothers Day. Before, I would roll my eyes or just want to stay away from folks who do that. I would hide in my house that day, want to pull the covers over my head, and reject any effort made to spoil me on Mothers Day. Honestly. What that did was steal something very important from my children, and make others who had good relationships with THEIR mothers to feel guilty for having something so wonderful.

Now, I'm more inclined to just say "Happy Mothers Day" to them.  But not only to them!  Now, I say it to women who - because of trauma - don't feel good on that day: women whose mothers were mean to them, women who never could have a child of their own, women who have miscarried, aborted, or lost a child to tragedy, women who never had the opportunity to have grandchildren, and also women whose children (and/or grandchildren) have walked away from everything they tried to teach them. Those are the hearts that hurt and weep on Mothers Day. And those are the people I think deserve to hold their head up and say that yes, I AM A MOM. I am worth something.

And we are.

One Bad Apple

I was talking with my brother about a situation that had recently troubled me regarding the actions of one individual, and how I was tempted to walk away from all members of that group based on that individual's actions. I had recently realized how that was an overreaction on my part. In talking about it with my brother, I inadvertently quoted a song by either the Jackson 5 or the Osmonds (depending on who you're talking to) called "One Bad Apple." I said, "One bad apple don't spoil the whole bunch." 

He responded by saying, "Yeah, as long as you don't let it sit there. Throw that thing away!"   

I nodded, making myself a promise to reflect some more on what was essentially an important life lesson: remove the toxic thing from your life so that you don't ruin your enjoyment of the rest of your life. Like when Jesus said, "if your eye offend you, pluck it out."  I don't think He was talking about self-mutilation, but about closing the door on something that was not healthy for you. 

Free image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

But also, just because one person did something that hurt you, don't assume that everyone who seems similar will be dangerous to you. That's living life in fear and allowing that one person to poison your future. Don't allow that to happen. Learn the lesson you were meant to learn from that experience, and after that, throw the rest away. Remember that even a spoiled apple has unspoiled seeds, that good things can come from bad events. It doesn't mean you go looking for the bad, or that you embrace that person again, but that you know that God is looking after you, lovingly caring for you. In remembering that, you can cast your cares and concerns onto Him and trust that He will be there, loving you, working everything together to make you more like Him (Romans 8:28-29). 

That was the 'sermon' that I preached to myself. It helped me become more willing to look for the good in things, and to not go to that place of viewing myself as a victim. Rather, I needed (and still need more and more) to trust myself to the care of God, to His grace and faithfulness, to know that He will allow into my life only that which will make me a better person. 

Finally, without belabouring the point, I needed to learn that there are a lot more good apples in my life than there are bad ones. I'm determined to keep it that way. :)

A New Creation

"If anyone is in Christ, they are a new creation.
The old has passed; the new has come."- 2 Cor 5:17

"People I talk to keep pressuring me to go to church," he explained. "I'm not so sure I'm ready to go. My reputation around here is not good, and I just know there will be those people who will sit back and wonder who I think I am, coming in there and testifying..."

"Well, you'd get that anywhere you went. You know that."

"I know," he sighed. "But I just need to spend some time with Father God so that I can be strong enough to not care what other people think of me." 

I nodded. "You take all the time you need. The most important relationship right now (and for that matter, always) is your relationship with God. And church," I added, "might be one way to enhance that. However, only when you're ready."

He quirked an eyebrow. "But I thought we weren't to forsake the assembling - - - "

I smiled. "What do you think this is -- right here, right now? Huh? We've been communicating with each other, sharing the things of the Lord, talking about our struggles, and caring for one another. I don't know what anyone else might call it, but I'd call it church!!"

His eyes slowly widened, and a smile began to shine from his eyes like a sunrise. "Didn't our hearts burn within us, when He was with us along the road...?  Wasn't that the two disciples on the road to Emmaeus?"

Photo by David Alberto Carmona Coto from Pexels

"Sure was." I grinned. "Wherever two or more are gathered in My Name, there am I in the midst." 

His shoulders relaxed.

"You'll get to the place where it won't matter what people think. So just know that any pressure you feel comes from other people's expectations, not necessarily from God. Of course, they might mean well, but you also don't answer to them. I think you're pretty good at recognizing when you are being manipulated rather than when God is telling you something. When you're ready, you'll know that it's time to make that step to be with others. But until then ... here we are. And that's okay."

His eyes glistened. He got it.

I've had this same conversation with more than one person, but I've picked this one because it stood out for me. I've had to have chats like this one because so many people are "church-hurt" and they need a slow reintroduction to the people who say that they belong to Jesus but who take particular delight in pointing out areas of improvement (thus trying to do the Holy Spirit's work for Him, but don't get me going.) And by "improvement" I mean areas where the person's life doesn't look like theirs: from actions to appearance. Same words, same hair-cut, same causes, same version of the Bible, same, same, same.  

It doesn't matter. Our Father is a God of endless variety, and it would be pretty boring if all of us looked, smelled, and acted like the same human.

What matters most is that this person, no matter the past, no matter the number of times he or she has said things have changed, no matter your or my opinion of things, is a new creation in Christ. The old has passed; the new has come. Who are we to sit in judgment? Who are we to hold that person's past against them? Who are WE to determine how fast and in what areas he or she should grow? Do WE know the inner workings of their heart?  What God has started in that person, He will finish. Whether they agree with us or not on everything, it isn't our job to make them into perfect replicas of ourselves. 

It's God's work to grow them up in Him, in a way that will bring out their unique qualities. He is the gardener, the caretaker, the great shepherd. He knows best what will draw each person into an intimate and vibrant relationship with Him. He's been doing it for far longer and is much better at it than you or I could be. Let's set aside our preconceived notions of how spiritual growth looks, and trust God to nurture His own creation how and when He sees fit. 

Besides, maybe they can someday speak life into someone who can relate to the way they look or talk. For example, their appearance - whether they have tattoos, dreadlocks, piercings, or whatever - might put us off, but that doesn't mean God can't use them to reach people who would never be drawn to us. And isn't that the main reason why we're all still here in the first place?

Forget it.

There is an expression and a teaching in most Christian circles which, I believe, has caused a lot more harm than the good that it tries to do. It is also based on a misunderstanding of human nature and of the omnipotence and divinity of God. 

That saying is, "Forgive and forget."

I'm all for forgiving, when forgiveness isn't a substitute for the real thing. It isn't excusing the person because he was mad or she was having a rough time. It isn't saying it was nothing. It isn't saying that what the person did was okay. And it is definitely NOT forgetting.

I was in my forties before I learned what forgiveness was. When I was growing up, nobody apologized for anything ... and if someone did, the one receiving the apology was expected to pooh-pooh it and make the one apologizing feel better by saying it wasn't anything. Plus, in our family, apologies didn't say, "I hurt you. That was wrong. I'm sorry, and I'll try not to do that again," and leave it at that. No, the apology started with the I'm sorry part, skipped the hurting and the wrong part, and then included an explanation of why the person did whatever it was that hurt them. Or (which often happened) the person didn't say anything at all and just did something nice for the person they hurt.

Photo from Pexels at
https://www.pexels.com/photo/baby-child-close-up-crying-47090/

Only recently have I learned that neither of these is the way to apologize. This is a way to justify the original hurtful action and sometimes even make it the other person's fault. Or in not apologizing, the "good deed" is a thinly disguised bribe, which looking back, seems like the ultimate in avoidance. That realization was hard to accept. Very hard. 

Just as hard to accept for some is that when the Bible talks about forgetting sins, it's not talking about US forgetting them, but it's talking about GOD forgetting them when He forgives. This is not because He is forgetful but because He chooses not to remember them. Let me repeat this for emphasis: forgetting sins is something that ONLY GOD can do. Expecting humans to do it is unfair because it is beyond our capability to remove a memory once it's been made, especially a traumatic one. It might be possible with a mild infraction, I'll grant that. But trauma? Nope. Not happening, because trauma hard-wires itself into our brains; it is a survival instinct to remember in great detail something that will hurt us in the future. 

I have talked before in this blog about what forgiveness actually is: a process that starts with feeling and admitting the hurt, calling it wrong, and choosing not to make the person pay for what he or she did. And sometimes it needs to be repeated (especially in cases of trauma / long-term abuse). Often. Healing is possible. It is. But remembering serves the purpose of being able, once we are healed from the hurt, of being able to walk someone else through that process of healing.

That being said, never has human forgiveness been about forgetting. It is literally physically and emotionally impossible for us to forget being traumatized, unless we lose that part of our brain by accident or disease. And neither of those options is anything we would want... neither brain injury nor dementia is pleasant. "God understands our frame. He remembers that we are only dust."

We can be grateful that God is not like us, and that He chooses not to remember our sins for the sake of close relationship with us. In fact, our sins were ALL forgiven AND forgotten (past, present, and future) thousands of years ago, as all of eternity hinges on the sacrifice of Jesus, which in the spiritual realm sent tsunamis of forgiveness in every direction and in every possible timeline from the moment of the Rebellion in Heaven onward. Not convinced? How about "... chosen in Him before the foundation of the world...."? How about "It is finished!" 

But even though we as humans cannot forgive AND forget, we can be free of the nasty side-effects of holding a grudge... as hard as that is sometimes and as good as holding a grudge can feel (it feeds our pride and justifies our behavior toward that person or people who are LIKE that person). We can be free, I say. We can choose to begin to forgive. Let me explain what I mean.

Forgiveness is a choice, but it is also a process. We needn't beat ourselves up for not being able to let go of the hurt the first time we make that choice. It might take many times, depending on the depth of the hurt and how long it lasted. But forgiveness works best by going through the process I mentioned earlier: (1) not denying that you were hurt, (2) allowing yourself to feel that hurt, and exploring how it has affected you in the present day, (3) placing the blame on the person or people who hurt you and not on yourself, and (4) [and this could take some time], realizing that the person can never repay you what they took from you (for example, your innocence or your sense of safety), so it is time to not try to make them pay, time to stop wishing that they'd apologize or change.  THAT is forgiveness. It doesn't make what the person did all right (because it was wrong), but it does free you to move on with your life. 

And never mind that you can't forget. That's not your job anyway. It's God's.

Live Free or Die

"LIVE FREE OR DIE" -- New Hampshire license plate logo (quote from General John Stark)
“Walk free from the long shadows cast by small people.”  -- Fennel Hudson
"Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people." 
-- Eleanor Roosevelt
"The price of liberty is eternal vigilance." - Thomas Charlton, 1809
"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." Paul the apostle, Galatians 5:1
"I just wanna live while I'm alive." -- Jon Bon Jovi, It's My Life https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qAy9HEfR1dA

Found at Pexels - https://www.pexels.com/photo/low-section-of-man-against-sky-247851/

Of late, I have been doing considerable thinking about the concept of freedom and what it means. Wars and insurrections have been started for it; marches and protests have been staged for it; churches preach it and still people every day live in bondage, all the while thinking they are free. 

Such was the Galatian church's dilemma. They fell into the doctrine Jesus called "the doctrine of the Nicolaitans, which I despise..." in the book of Revelation. Basically it was the doctrine of "Jesus AND." That is, they thought that it wasn't quite enough to believe that Jesus died to save them from the wages of sin; oh no. They thought that one had to follow a strict code of rules and regulations in order to "keep" what Jesus had already provided for them free of charge. So Paul reminded them that Jesus was enough, and to stand in that freedom with grateful hearts that serve Him out of love and not out of fear. (Judy's paraphrase). 

How much of life do we spend living in fear!! A fear-based religion is one where the rules get stressed and so do the people as they try to keep them all. Living life fearing that if they do the wrong thing enough, or if they don't do the right things enough, God will be angry or at the very least displeased, sounds like a recipe for the performance-based focus of a lot of churches I have been to - and believe me, I've been to a LOT of churches of nearly every evangelical stripe. I've even heard this kind of "Jesus-AND" heresy preached from the pulpit in some places - that yes, Jesus saved you, but you gotta hang onto your salvation by doing, doing, doing. (Never mind BEING in an intimate relationship with Him that produces love and WANTING to please Him, oh no.) And in each of these churches there have been (percentages are approximate) the 8% who embrace that kind of thinking totally and judge those who don't toe the line, the 5% who get tired of being yelled at and leave, the 85% who beat themselves over the head every week for "not doing enough" and even come to expect the verbal abuse and welcome it (i.e., the religious masochists some of whom often also pray for revival because they know instinctively that something is wrong), and the 2% who actually are in a love-relationship with Jesus in spite of what they hear or experience at church. 

The thinking that the 'price of liberty is eternal vigilance' (1809, see above quote) came into being either during or shortly after the American Revolutionary War that led to its independence from Great Britain in 1776. Americans were afraid that the mother country would try to retake the colonies. But I believe that the thinking crept into the church as well, gaining a foothold of error just like the one that had taken hold of the Galatians. People LIKE the idea that they can have a say in their own destiny, not feeling entirely comfortable with the idea that salvation is a Divine initiative and even free will is absorbed into God's omniscience (aka predestination) - not that God decided who would be saved and lost, but that He knew in advance who would be (a subtle difference it is, indeed), because He knows all and is eternal, existing apart from Time. It takes nothing away from personal responsibility, but God being God will make His plan happen either through or in spite of us. (Think of free will and predestination as two sides of the same doorway. On the outside is written "Whosoever will" and on the inside is written "Chosen in Him before the foundation of the world.") 

But I digress. The kind of freedom I am talking about is freely given but to be earnestly and fiercely defended. I don't mean "defending the gospel" or using the Bible to cut someone apart with, as is the habit of many I've known in my life. What I am talking about is real freedom from the chains of "should" and "can't", freedom from fear, from cringing, from self-loathing, from what others think, even from what God thinks. (Try not to tar and feather me here; hear me out.) The truth is not that God is counting our sins or that He has this huge club waiting to smash us when we mess up. The truth is that we were forgiven before time even began, and Jesus came to Earth to show us that the way to personal relationship God was open to all. He came to take us by the hand and bring us to God (reconciliation) so that we could see that God viewed us as holy and blameless before Him. All we had to do was say Yes to Him - and we walked through the doorway of free will into the blessed truth that He has forgiven us ALL of our sins: past, present, and future - and made us a part of His body. His life courses through our spiritual veins. We are free. 

The old gospel men's quartet, The Imperials, used to sing a song called "Praise the Lord" featuring blues singer Russ Taff. One of the verses (and the chorus that follows) goes like this (emphasis mine),

Now Satan is a liar, and he wants to make us think
that we are paupers when he knows himself we're children of the King. 
So lift up the mighty shield of faith, for the battle has been won, 
we know that Jesus Christ is risen, so the work's already done!

  Praise the Lord - He can work through those who praise Him;
  Praise the Lord - for our God inhabits praise!
  Praise the Lord - for the chains that seem to bind you
  serve only to remind you that they drop powerless behind you
  when you praise Him.

I don't know how many ways I can say it. We are FREE. He has FREED us. He has redeemed us from slavery. We could not buy our own freedom; He bought it for us to prove His love for us and acceptance of us, just so we could feel FREE to be in relationship with Him. Just like old times. Just like the Garden. Walking with Him. Talking with Him all the time. Every moment, not a chore but a delight. Hello!! 

So yes, my heart's cry lately has been this, in the words of Bon Jovi : "I just wanna live while I'm alive." He has called me, like Lazarus, from the tomb. I don't want to toddle around still wrapped up in those putrid graveclothes of duty and obligation and fear. I want to be free! I want to ... Get Unwrapped!