... and the crick don't rise

"A man's heart devises his way, but the LORD directs his steps." - Prov. 16:3

"... you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we will live, and do this or that.'..." - James 4:15

An old tag (end of sentence) goes, "be the good Lord willin' and the crick don't rise." Folks said it after planning to meet again next week or next month, etc. The saying was an acknowledgement that nobody is promised more than the moment they are living in, and that God is sovereign. By sovereign, I mean that He chooses what happens in spite of our plans. Sometimes the things we plan happen, and sometimes they don't. Either way, it is God who decides how things will play out.

I have had constant reminders of this fact the last couple of years, mostly to do with my schooling. A planned practicum in the fall of 2018 led to a failed practicum and me having to put it off until the following fall, looking for a new site. Once I found one that was perfect, things were in place when all of a sudden one of the main participants became very ill, and needed to extricate himself from all non-essential commitments. Thus, again, I had to defer my practicum.

Photo by misterfarmer at Pixabay

And now it is 2020. By God's grace, the arrangement from last year has held, tentatively, since nobody knows what life will look like later this year (with COVID-19 being such a reality in our world). But even before the virus, I determined to hold such things lightly, and to leave the final decision to the Only One who sees the end from the beginning. It's an exercise in faith for sure!

As I've been preparing for "whatever God has" (as my formerly sick mentor put it recently), I've been doing some reading about the call of God to each believer to 'incarnate Christ' (yes, used as a verb!) to those around us who may be in need of His help. That requires that I have a vibrant and vital relationship with Jesus. More and more I am seeing how I have needed this time of waiting in order to step back from all I thought I knew, and to re-learn how I can be an instrument in God's hands. I am called to be the embodiment of Jesus to those who need to see Him and know Him in a more intimate way. I am one of His ambassadors - called to act on His behalf the way He would: with love, acceptance, and compassion.

And thank God, I have the power to do that - as do all believers - because of the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit. Without Him, I would be totally unequal to such a task.  This isn't just words. It's breath ... life ... living. I'm challenged to seek His glory above my own. I'm willing to open myself to Him in intimacy. All those things I have always wanted as a believer can be realities as long as I align myself with His desire for me: a love-bond with Him. Only then can I be a part of the overflow of His presence into others' lives at their point of need.

I truly hope that "the crick don't rise" this time.  And I know that even if it does, He's got this.

He always has.

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.

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.

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. :)

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! 

Myth-ing out

Life is hard. It's so good to have wonderful friends and family who are there and who care. Sometimes, though, friends and family have no idea how to do that.

It's amazing to me how many of God's people miss out on opportunities to step alongside someone and help them through a rough patch, or a dark and lonely valley, just because of preconceived notions - or what I call myths - about basic things like life, death, God's will, and prayer. These myths, expressed in ways intended to comfort, actually do the opposite in many cases. 

Take, for example, the person who is terminally ill. Their family is dealing with the hard facts that they may not have much time left with their loved one. I have heard all kinds of things said to the families (and to the sick person) and quite frankly, many of them do more harm than good. 

Here's one example. One of the things I have heard people say is that "it's never too late; God may still reach in to heal, so keep on believing." While this is true, and it could happen, first of all, why would you push for a return to this earth when Heaven is so much better than here? And what gives human beings the right to dictate what God's will might be for that individual or family? Secondly, telling the family to keep on believing is kind of an insult. Think about it. If there were any more prayers to be prayed, if there was any more faith to be exercised, don't you think they've already tried praying and believing every single waking moment? Isn't this experience hard enough without the family living with not only grief, but guilt and shame you placed on them because they feel they somehow didn't do enough to keep their loved one with them?

Here's another myth - the assumption that the person has already died, it's just a matter of when they stop breathing. Kind of cruel, isn't it? but people couch it in religious terminology like "Praying for peace for you and yours at this difficult time." All it really means is that (a) the person is a goner, in the mind of the person saying this, and (b) the person giving condolences distances themselves emotionally and is spouting platitudes, which are polite, meaningless noises that they think people are supposed to say when someone is grieving. "Feel better," is what this amounts to, but the person almost always has no intention of being around before the grieving one feels better.

Photo "Sadness Woman In Friend's
Arms" by David Castillo Dominici
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

A third (and this one is completely false): "God must need another angel." People don't become angels; that would be a demotion. (Look it up. Angels long to have the relationship with God that we do by second birthright.) That's the first myth. The second myth is the implication that God TAKES someone away from us, which is the farthest from the truth. When a loved one passes away, God WELCOMES them Home. They immediately step into the next phase of Eternity - a richness of life and joy that we can only barely begin to comprehend. And He is WITH the people who are left behind, available for them to weep hot tears or sit in stony, silent, excruciating heart-pain, or anything in between, for as long as they need to. His patience, love, and kindness is measureless and strong.


I get why people say these things. They say them because human beings were never created for separation. People feel uncomfortable with the word goodbye, when they know that the goodbye is for what might be a very long time. That's as it should be, really. But my point is that those people who are going to be left behind need as much help and support as we can give them, in a real and tangible way. Are we really helping them by telling them these things? Or are we just helping ourselves feel better by convincing ourselves we've done our bit? Where will we really be when the harsh reality of life without their loved one hits them like a ton of bricks? Hiding safe behind our platitudes, or walking the valley with them - in person - so they can lean on us when they need to? 

I am talking to myself just as much as I am to anyone else. Even though I have known the loss of many dear ones, every time is at least as hard, and every time is different. I know that the terminal illness or loss of a loved one is messy, and it can be very uncomfortable to witness up close; believe me when I say that the person undergoing such an experience would love to be able to NOT witness it. But people sometimes need that other witness, that person who sits with them or hugs them without saying a word, whose presence is there, comforting without the need to say anything. Sometimes that means going for a piece of pie and an iced tea, sometimes it means inviting them over for an evening, sometimes it means letting them talk and letting them cry - and crying with them - and sometimes it even means sitting with them in the hospital ward rest area and missing your favorite sitcom.

It might be inconvenient. It might be uncomfortable. But to do any less would be missing - and mything - out.

Cease Striving

One of the hardest things there is to do is to do nothing. Right? We humans, especially in Western culture, have this notion that if we are not doing anything, we are unproductive and wasting our time. 

However, there is a wisdom and a peace to doing nothing. I am not talking about slacking off. I don't mean to sit cross-legged in a corner and let the world pass you by. What I mean is that the reaching, grasping, grabbing tendency that we have can actually end up with us losing what we so desire to have, like trying to keep a handful of sand by clenching it in our fists. 

It disappears. It slips between our fingers and spills on the ground. That is why doing nothing can be so wise. We try so hard to "make" something that we want to happen and we often end up making the opposite happen. 

Photo "Rows Of Butterfly Cocoons" courtesy of xura
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

I remember a sad story I heard once of a child who wanted to see a butterfly emerge from its cocoon. Day after day she watched this little motionless sack sitting there in front of her, and one day, the thing started moving and a split appeared in the cocoon. She was thrilled, and yet she saw the struggle the butterfly was having inside its prison. She decided to help it escape, and pulled the split wider so the creature could get out. Sadly, although the butterfly was now out, it just sat there with wet, small wings. The body of the butterfly needed that squeezing to activate it to pump bodily fluids (that it had stored for this day) into the wings. They were flimsy and limp as a result, even after they dried, and they could not bear the butterfly's weight.... And a butterfly who cannot fly cannot feed on nectar and therefore cannot live. 

"Be still," said the Psalmist (46:10). What he was saying was to cease striving, and to stop trying to make things happen. They will happen when they are meant to happen. The butterfly - or that desired outcome - will emerge on its own. It does not need our help. We can trust that it will happen if it is meant to do so. We can let go of our tendency to put our oar in. We can know that God is in control.

When we cease striving, peace comes. We can accept what happens and enjoy the moments in between where we are and what lies ahead. We can let go of our "if onlys" and our "I can't waits" ... and live in the present. We will be where we are without losing ourselves in the past or the future. We can look for the little joys: the beauty all around us, our favorite sounds, the taste of good food, and the feeling of a cool breeze on a hot day.

We can live each moment to the full. But we don't have to strain. All we need to do is to courageously let go of our impulse to do it ourselves or to hurry it along, and instead to let go and stop trying so hard.

Stay in the present. The future will happen without our help.

"I will build My church"

It's now been over two years since my husband and I decided to leave the organization that is commonly known as the 'church'. When I tell people that we don't "go to church" anymore, I often see raised eyebrows, and very rarely do I get anything but judgment. Sometimes, though, people are curious and want to know what it is like for us to not gather for services on Sundays and other days of the week. 

My first response is always, "A big relief, honestly." When they want to know more, I describe what we experienced more and more in the 'church' as we got more and more uncomfortable there ... how we would come home from service after service drained, frustrated, and angry. But I don't spend much time on describing that. Instead, I like to talk about what it's been like since we left: relaxed, peaceful, and (to use a Christian-ese word) edifying.

And the inevitable question comes. "How can that be without fellowship?"

When I get this question, especially lately, I chuckle.  They must believe - as I used to believe - that "fellowship" can only be experienced in the pew!!  Just like I used to believe that "worship" could only happen in the context of a "worship service" with an "order of service" and so forth. Such "fellowship" could only occur behind the Four Walls. It was predictable. It was stale. It was familiar .... and not in a good way.

Photo "Two Friends Spending Happiest Time Together" by
imagerymajestic at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

It's not like that at all. Since we have left the Four Walls behind, God has provided what we need for fellowship. No, we don't have cottage meetings where we meet specifically for the purpose of "fellowship." God sets up opportunities for us to get together with people of the Way. 

What happens when we get together is never structured. It's visiting with people who love us and who love God, and who realize more and more how deeply and unconditionally He loves us. When the visit ends, whether we have shared what God is doing in our lives or not, whether He is even mentioned or not, we feel uplifted ... and not worn out. Sometimes someone shares something that someone else needs to hear, but it's not hyped up with music or "atmosphere" - just plain and simple. And sometimes there is nothing that "happens" - and that's okay too. We share each other's company as an expression of love, and that in itself is ministry. And there is no pressure either way.

It dawned on me this morning that Jesus said that on this Rock (the statement, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God") HE would build His church. He doesn't use bricks and mortar. He uses living stones - believers - and THAT is the church He is continually building.  It's HIS church, not mine, not yours, not anyone's. His. 

He also said that wherever two or three were gathered in His name, He would be in the midst of them. I used to think that "in My name" meant "for the sole purpose of glorifying Me" - but now, I'm thinking more that it has to do with a common or shared belief in Him, and less to do with following a contrived script. 

I have felt Him "in the midst" when I was with one other person in a hospital room, or sitting across from someone in a coffee shop, or sitting down to supper with someone, or sharing a coffee or a breakfast with someone, or talking on the phone, or texting, or having a conversation on Facebook's private chat (or Messenger, if you want to call it that). This fellowship, whatever form it takes (and it's God who sets it up!) happens way more often than just once a week. And it is encouraging, strengthening, revitalizing .... and completely natural and effortless. 

Take, for example, a visit I paid to my brother in hospital last Thursday. We laughed, joked, and talked about little things that would only matter to us. I felt led to lay hands on him before I left to go home - and spoke to his kidneys and his pancreas to behave themselves in response to the upcoming stent procedure (because the stent procedure involves injecting with a dye which is hard on the kidneys and the stress could affect his sugars). My 'ministry' only took about a minute. And when I was "done," I told him I loved him and left to go home. (By the way, the stent procedure went great the following Monday. They put in two stents ... and the pain in his chest went away almost immediately ... and the kidneys and pancreas behaved themselves! He got home yesterday, able to take a full breath, able to walk at least three times the distance he could a week previous, and grateful for the opportunity to amaze the doctors yet again ...)

I like this Way better. Much better. Jesus is a great builder.

More Light

Earlier this summer, we decided to replace the doors in our house. 

It was no small change. The frames around the doors were so rotted that they also had to be replaced, so we thought that this was a good time to get doors that not only were more energy-efficient, but also more secure (with a built-in deadbolt) and that were attractive as well. 

We spent considerable time choosing a design that we could all agree upon, and finally settled on one that allowed us a bit more privacy (without the need for curtains) but that also let in more light.  It costed more, but the final effect has been so nice. 

The windows in the doors are partly made of pebbled glass - hence the privacy without the need for drapery (which also makes for more light) - but the edges of the glass pattern insert are made of beveled glass. That edging has had an effect that we did not anticipate: when the sun is shining through the glass, it acts like a prism, and we have cross-sections of rainbows in our home every sunny morning and every sunny afternoon. 

Photo "Heaven Light From Sun Behind Clouds"
courtesy of criminalatt at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Rainbows always speak to me of mercy - undeserved favor - and I remember the scripture in the Psalms that says something like, "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness..." 

It's funny, but the more I stay away from religious people (and by religious people I mean those typical folks that believe "God is good, I'm bad; I must try harder"), the more I can clearly see the mercy and grace of God in everyday occurrences, the lavish, extravagant love of God, and the fallacy of trying to earn brownie points. I spent a lifetime trying to make God like me more, never feeling like I measured up, never feeling as though I was doing "enough" - and living life on that endless hamster wheel of fear, performance, and shame. Since taking time away from that system to experience God and who He is rather than the system with its rules and regulations and rigidity, I realize more and more the absolute non-necessity of "doing" anything to curry favor with Him.  I am ALREADY favored. I am ALREADY loved to the Nth degree! Just as I am, period!  

It never gets old. The wonder never dims.  In such an atmosphere, absolute freedom isn't an excuse to indulge in guilty pleasures (as some might fear) but an opportunity to develop intimacy with the Almighty One ... and all that means is that I get to spend time with Him without the need to ask for anything because everything I need is already mine in Him. And that includes fellowship, (again contrary to what some might think). God sets up His appointments with others of like mind, far better than I could, and exactly when I need them, to enhance my journey with Him.  It is not forced; there is no structure. What a great gift that is to one whose life was regimented and bound up in the whole notion of fear of what someone else might think. Or the terror that somehow I could damage what God was trying to do if I didn't do a good enough job at ... whatever it was. 

This life is like reveling in beams of sunlight in prisms through the glass - a joyful, grateful, peaceful appreciation of His love. No more cringing. No more hamster wheel. No more reliance on my own strength. Just rest, relax, and let Him shine.

There is always more mercy, always more love, always more light. Always.

The bitter and sweet seasons

Christmas day is a day some people sing about, look forward to, dread, and just endure. Everyone seems to have feelings about it - either warm, nostalgic ones or cold, harsh ones.  I've felt both extremes and everything in between.  

Some people try to minimize the spiritual side of the holiday and are militant about de-christianizing it, making it politically correct. Others try to shove 'the reason for the season' down people's throats (news flash: everybody gets it. It's called CHRIST-mas - celebration of Christ. You don't have to prove it to everybody) to the point of plastering social media with messages designed to make people feel guilty if they don't click Like, type "Amen" and click Share.  

So that's enough of the soap-box.  

My thoughts the last couple of days have been on the bitter side of the season, how it is so hard to go through it without the literal life of the party being around to share Christmas with.  This is our third Christmas without our youngest; she passed away just about 2 months prior to Christmas 2013, and the waves of grief and the bitter taste of loneliness are sometimes unbearable.  Yet, strangely they can mingle with the sweetness of good friends with whom we can share festive seasons.  

I know that the best I can do to be healthy inside my own skin is to be real, to not fake joy, and to pour into someone else's life in a meaningful way.

I don't think that holiday seasons (be they Christmas, Thanksgiving, or Easter or whatever else) get any "easier" when there has been a loss.  The feelings I have learned to pack away to deal with everyday life come raging to the fore when special dates or times of year come to pass, and that is only natural... and right.  

I can't apologize for feeling what I feel. (Often, allowing myself permission to have those feelings is the difference between function and dysfunction.... repressing feelings is never good for the soul.) However, I can try to make someone else's day brighter.  And I know that feelings are usually transient. They happen ... and then they pass.  This is a good thing to know.

Hubby reading the Christmas story -
the presents can wait.

This year, we had thought that our plans to have someone else share our Christmas morning celebration were going to be cancelled, and we were dealing with the disappointment of that (knowing that our friend was with her family, where she needed to be). 

We were just sitting down to breakfast when I got a text.  "I'm back home now," it said. "Can I still come over?" What a blessing that was!  within a half hour she was in our living room, listening to the Christmas story and joining in our sharing around the tree.

Later, another friend joined us, and we shared a meal. And pie. 

We all talked well into the evening, and each of us savoured the sweet of the season: the connection we feel with people who know they are loved and who love in return.  And though we each had a real reason to feel that bitterness, we chose to pour in the sweet, and taste the best of the holiday with each other. 

Escaping the siege

I've been trying to figure out what these past few months has felt like.  In late summer/ early fall, we decided as a couple (after much agonizing) to leave the church.  Not just OUR church, THE church... by which I mean the organized, religious system that calls itself the church.  

I can't begin to describe the growing dissatisfaction that we had felt the last few years while we ran faster and faster on the hamster wheel of performance, always wondering if we were doing enough, feeling guilty and blaming ourselves if our prayers were unanswered, and frankly, feeling embarrassed to invite people in - where we knew they would find what we had - another, deeper level of rejection - where hurting people thrive on pushing hurting people away.  

It's equally as difficult to describe the pulling that we felt toward a deeper and more intimate relationship with Jesus - a call to simplicity, to receiving His love and loving Him back. More and more we saw the futility of our involvement in a system that values nickels and noses, attempts to control its members through shame, fear, and judgment.  Rather than build bridges to those who embrace lifestyles or choices with which they do not agree, this system builds walls to keep them out.

As I pondered this last night, a little story from 2nd Kings 7 came to my mind.  There were these guys living on the outskirts of town - walled in and afraid to leave because "the enemy" was out there. Or so they believed.  The town was under siege.  Food was scarce and deadly expensive; they had even taken to eating bird poop and charging money for it!!  People were getting desperate, even to the point of devouring their children... it was horrible.  Anyway, these guys near the gate were outcasts - they were lepers.  They were not welcome in society, but they could not leave the town because after all, they were members of the community. 

Finally, these guys got fed up (pun not intended).  They figured, "Well, the enemy camp is out there - and it most likely has food.  If we go and surrender to the enemy, they might accept our surrender, and let us live (at least we would get something to eat) and if they kill us, we would have died a lot more slowly inside the wall."  So ... they left ... hearts in their throats.  Desperate.  It was a desperate move made by desperate people.

Meanwhile, the Arameans outside (many hundreds of them) were literally hearing things - and got it into their heads that the king whose town they were besieging had hired people to come and attack them.  So they split!!  Enter the lepers .... who found meals half-eaten, left in haste ... and they could not believe their fortune!  They ate, found money and put that away, and thoroughly enjoyed themselves!  

Photo "Buffet Set On Heated Trays Ready To Eat"
courtesy of jk1995 at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Eventually, they looked at one another and said, "Hey, let's tell someone about this!  This is such good news that we cannot help sharing it - the enemy is gone, and our neighbours can get out of their prison!"  So that is what they did.  By the end of the day, prices were back down to normal, and there was not one hungry person in town. 

I think the reason that I thought about those guys inside the wall, the ones who were so up against it that they left to take their chances outside, was because that was - and is - (in some ways) our story.  There was no sustenance for us in all that protection and so-called safety.  We were starving to death.  We saw a few atrocities, people turning on each other, but most of the time it was just a slow, lingering death of the soul: adherents trying to keep people from straying, unhappy and/or self-righteous people trapped by their own acceptance of things the way they were, with no desire strong enough for something more, no desire that would cause them to question their reason for being there and doing what they were doing.  So many people around us were living in fear, in a siege mentality (us versus them) and distrusting anything against which they had been indoctrinated, hell-bent (yes, that was intentional) on obeying the rules and excluding those who didn't. 

And it was like that everywhere. We had attended dozens of assemblies and it was the same wherever we went.  We had tried to fit in, but in every single place, we were eventually relegated to the role of the leper.  Either because we were not of a certain social or economic stratum, or because we were introverted, or because we were not linked with the founding families of the particular assembly we were in, we were slowly but surely kept at arm's length, treated like ... like lepers.  

But our isolation only gave us more time to think, to ponder how, in a community that stated that it followed the teachings of the One who is Love personified, the behaviour of its members was anything but - and we were as affected by this phenomenon as the next member. There were occasional bright spots, surprising us with kindness and caring (but only when someone died). Or there were brief periods associated with the arrival and ministry of people who seemed to hear from God, and for a time, we thought things might change.  But inevitably, they went on to greener pastures, and we were back to the same old thing. We wondered if things would ever change for good.

We compared the characteristics of this organization to those of the organism that the church was designed to be (as described in the book of Acts) and we could find nothing in common between the two!  "Is this all there is?" we asked ourselves.  "Is this the abundant life?"  If it was - we surely wanted a refund.... and if it wasn't ... then what were we doing? was there any way out?  Time and time again we tried to conform ourselves to what was expected, rededicate ourselves, and influence the system from the inside out.  And over and over again, we depleted our limited emotional resources; every time, we died a little more.  

Frustration grew.  Countless times we returned from church-based events stressed, exhausted, and - well - angry.   Sermons (both from the pulpit and in unofficial settings) from various people were little more than steam blown off by those frustrated with the people who sat back and never tried, so all we heard was, "You're not doing enough, not believing enough, not giving enough, not praying enough, not holy enough, not evangelical (or missional, or social justice-minded) enough ..." and the list went on.  I remember turning to my husband at one point near the end of that part of our journey and saying, "If I want to be yelled at and taken on a guilt trip, I'll go visit my mother."   

And the siege mentality!  That idea that the world is a horrible place and the people in it are against us permeated everything.  We were told that certain people with certain lifestyles or beliefs were not to be trusted, or at best they were deluded and needed to be converted.  Instead of reaching out to people, we were encouraged to lobby local school boards, write to politicians, sign petitions, support groups known for heavy-handed prejudicial treatment of certain minority groups, and decry perfectly legal medical procedures (if horrific to our sensibilities and beliefs) and vehemently condemn those who chose to undergo them.  In doing so, we were unwittingly contributing to their mistrust of the church and ensuring that they would not come to us for help when they needed a listening ear.  

Photo "Ruined House"
courtesy of sattva at
www.freedigitaphotos.net

All around us, the walls were crumbling.  More and more, we were seeing how our participation in this organization was counter-productive to the values of love, acceptance, and gentleness that Jesus taught and that we espoused.  We got closer and closer to the gate of this impoverished and starving community.  "Just hang on. It will get better," people said.  "Revival is just around the corner." We bought it for years ... until we didn't. 

And when we made the break, it had to be clean.  We left; we did not look back. We left our assembly, and we left the system. 

And you know, we expected to feel guilty... or afraid, or nervous for what we would do or where God would lead us next (if anywhere)... but all we felt was relief.  There was relief.  As the weeks passed, we remarked how much less stressful Sundays were, how much we enjoyed being able to rest instead of tearing our hair out and banging our heads against a brick wall for five hours or more almost every weekend. Our relationship with our daughter deepened. God set up contacts with people in His timing, and we had such precious times with them, times that we never would have had if we hadn't ventured outside the gate.   

There are times that we wonder if we did the right thing.  There are times when we miss frequent contact with people, wonderful people.  But we know that we were having our souls sucked out of us by the system.  Outside, we may not have found any bountiful banquet yet, but we can detect the faint odor of food, and we know we'll eventually find it.  And you can bet that as soon as we do, it will be way too good to keep to ourselves.