Straight trade

I trudged up the hill, towing my two suitcases, with my computer bag balanced precariously across the slide-out carrying handle of the largest bag, and my purse slung over my head and down my right side.  Every 20 to 30 feet I would stop, winded by the hill, the extra weight, and the altitude - 3500 feet above sea level doesn't sound like much unless you're from sea level - I could feel myself perspiring heavily. My hair stuck to my face. Fortunately ... it wasn't raining. 

Someone had given me these directions and I was following them to the best of my ability. I hadn't reached the top of the hill when I saw a man carrying a blue, lightweight tote on the other side of the road, going in the opposite direction. I was puffing and panting by this point. All sense of dignity had been lost. I was in refugee mode - quite literally - fleeing a situation of my own making which had gotten wildly out of control. 

The man slowed down. He stopped. "Could you use a hand?" he called to me. 

 My pride was nil.  "Wow! I sure could!" I stopped and rested my bags on their wheels on the concrete sidewalk.

He came over and asked me where I was going. "Student Residence B" I said, indicating my first stop: residence services where I would get my key.  He took the heaviest bag with the computer bag resting on it.  Then he gave me his tote bag - it literally weighed only a few ounces. I hitched up my purse and reached for my wheeled duffle bag. "No, you've carried that long enough," he said. "I'll carry your bags and you carry mine. Let's enjoy the rest of this walk."

I was so flustered and grateful that I knew that if I wasn't so exhausted I would have cried... I just didn't have the energy; it had been a tumultuous week.  Meekly I let him carry my load - some good thirty-five pounds worth of it - while I walked easily beside him.

He made conversation, asked me where I was from and when I told him, he said that he had lived there for 20 years and started a company there.  I had heard of the company!  He asked about my family (this happens all the time where I live, it's called "who's your father?") and it turned out that he knew of some people who were related to my husband.

When we got to the destination, he opened the doors for me and set my luggage back down on the floor, and asked for his tote back.  We parted ways and I thanked him once again for having compassion on me.  And after he was gone,  I thanked God for the kind detour this man took because he saw I was in distress. (By the time I got to my residence, I was beet red in the face from exertion.) 

That was the first of many kindnesses I was shown that day. A kind cabbie who took my bags, another who helped me with my groceries and gave me a discount because he got lost and I didn't have the precise address, etc.,  but the thing that sticks out for me is this man who traded his light package for all of mine.  He did so, in order that I might enjoy the walk.

Photo "Loving Father And His Baby" by
David Castillo Dominici at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

I could not help but draw parallels between that experience and the invitation of Jesus: "Come to Me, all you who labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke (my helping, my partnering with you) upon you, and learn from me, for I am meek and lowly, and you shall find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." (Matthew 11: 28 - 30)

Can it be that simple? giving Him our burden in exchange for His? Apparently so.  He can understand the most anguished cry, the smallest whimper, the silent pleading, tears in the dark, everything. And He invites us to trade that load for His, which is easy, because it doesn't burden people with shoulds and rules; His load is simply love. He invites us to come to Him and - if we need to - fall apart in His arms; He will hold us. He already took all that hurt away anyway.  Let's let ourselves be loved. It's okay. It is really okay.

In between

I'm neither here nor there, neither in the groove nor out of it, neither on the road nor aimlessly wandering. 

I am in between. 

It's an empty place - a quiet space - almost a vacuum. Between what I have known and what I will know, I am in that curious state of nothingness that begs for an answer, a voice, an activity, anything to fill that void. 

It is a dangerous place - an eerie space - more silent than a whisper, and just as elusive. It's uncomfortable. I am tempted to go back to what was, what I knew, not because it is a better place, but simply because I know it, and I know what to expect. Yet because I know what to expect, I dread moving backward in that all-too-familiar direction. Too long I have wallowed in its mediocrity and sameness. Yet the future - bright and glittering- is unreachable, shiny, taunting me with its promises of a better life, whatever that means. 

It looks as though I am stuck here - here in the present, here in the in-between. Here the echoes of what was ... are too loud, and the promise of what will be ... is too far off to provide any satisfaction. 

This is the void. This is the awkward silence, the silence of 'becoming'. 

It is empty ... and dangerous ... and absolutely essential. Here I can ask myself the tough questions from which I have been hiding. Who am I? Why am I here? Is this all there is? Is what I have known all that will ever be? Can I not hope for something more? Will I ever stop feeling so lifeless? Where is the joy I was promised? Can I ever learn to listen for - and hear - that still small Voice again? 

Other voices clamour around me to fill that silence with uplifting music, with many words, with groanings and fervent prayer, with busy-work. Yet the only sound my soul makes is that of a small, frightened child - so frightened that she dare not make a sound or she will be discovered. I hear the rapid beating of my own heart, as if I have stepped off a cliff with no assurance that anything will be there to keep me from falling to my death. There are moments of abject terror - of a panic so great that it steals my breath from my lungs.

The questions continue, go deeper, persist in spite of the pleadings of some part of me for them to stop. But they don't. Where did the Light go? Will I ever see it again? Why is it that others seem so satisfied with the status quo ... and I do not? Do I really know what it is that I am looking for? If I don't, then how will I know it when I see it? (Or WILL I see it?) 

This hurts. It's painful. I can't describe it well enough; only those who have been here will understand. I can talk to them, and they can encourage me to persevere, but it seems I can't make anyone else understand. "Why are you so dissatisfied?" I hear them say in my mind. "Why are you putting yourself through this?"

Nobody wants to hear about this place. They want me to be as I was, or they want me to be as I will be. They are just as uncomfortable with this awkward place in my life as I am - perhaps even more so. Everyone wants the finished product, something recognizable, something to point to and either pray for or praise God for. Not this. Not the transition. Not the uncertainty. Not the pain. Oh most definitely not the pain. 

I know that so many will not understand.  This fact tears at the fabric of my being, for I have spent my whole life trying to do whatever I could to make people approve of me, to like me, to hear me, to understand me. Yet I know - I KNOW - that so many people will think that I am sick, or sad, or crazy, or backslidden, or ... or whatever they will think. Yet I am so desperate for answers that I must face the monster of "What will people think?" and put it to death in my life. I must exist in this place of emptiness, of the void, no matter what people think.

This, THIS is in between. This is not comfortable. Yet it's all I know right now. Like the caterpillar in its chrysalis, I am being de-consructed; the person I was is no longer the person I am. I am being changed; into what, I do not know. It is too soon to tell. I am only beginning.

All I know for sure is that it will be different. Just how different, or what form it will take, is completely unknown to me. The only One who knows is the One who compelled me to enter this place, this space where all else fades away ... except change.

The View From Here

It seems like forever since I found myself down here, down below the surface, away from the sunshine. I'm not exactly sure why this was the place where someone thought I should be... but it's where I am. I've worked hard to accept it, because try as I might, I've not been able to extricate myself ... not from lack of trying! 

Wait. Wait and you will see. You don't need to understand. All will be made clear.

I can't help thinking how dark and slimy it is here. It's been a very long time since I've seen any lasting rays of light. I used to be so thick-skinned, but now the least little thing seems to pierce through. 

You are being softened. Trust. I am near.

I know that there are things that are happening within me. But I can only feel discomfort. I can't see anything beyond this oppressive, fetid place. I can't see any growth in me, just stirrings of irritation. I feel like I'm being split in two, that my whole life is coming apart. 

There is life. You are growing inside. You can't see it yet because you're too close to the situation. What you are feeling is normal. Relax; it will take time. I am in control. 

I feel as though I'm reaching in all different directions. I'm vaguely aware that I am growing, but I can't see how. Where is the sun? I feel like I'm losing myself to this process ... I'm not even sure I know who I am anymore. 

You are becoming. Who you used to be is being transformed. You are being rooted deeply. Soon you will see. 

Every movement is an effort, a struggle. I'm tired. I just want things to be easier, safer, less exhausting. I admit that now I can feel the warmth of the sun a little, but slogging through this dark place takes all the energy I have. I have nothing left over. 

Your growth is beginning to show. This is the hardest part, just before your breakthrough. Keep feeling that warmth, drinking in the nourishment I send. Soon you will see ... and gain strength to grow even more.

Photo "Young Plant" courtesy of
amenic181 at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Author and Finisher

In my last post, "Sacred Cows," I talked about how we compartmentalize and become very protective of those things in our lives that we consider "ours" ... when God's plan is to smash down the dividing walls that separate our relationship with Him from the rest of our lives. 

If, by reading that post, anyone might have thought how vigilant WE need to be, how we need to repent and confess our sinfulness to God, etc., let me be clear. 

Yes, knowing about where we may have been missing the mark can be helpful because at least now we are aware and can listen to and recognize His voice a bit better. But it is GOD who began this new creation. He is the Author of our New Life. And it is HE who will direct the path of our lives so that we bump right smack dab into Him, time and time again. HE will finish the work He started. 

The only thing we need to open our eyes to .... is Him. His passionate Love. His boundless Grace. His endless Patience. His supreme Sufficiency. 

Photo "Daily Planner With Pen" by
BrandonSigma at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

HE wrote the Book. Not only the Book we hold in our hands but also the Book of our lives. HE knows how it turns out. HE made provision for it, for us, for every possible outcome or circumstance. Nothing we have done or ever will do, will EVER take Him by surprise. Nothing we have done or ever will do, will change His constant, unconditional love for us - it won't make Him love us any less ... or any more ... than He always has for all eternity - past, present and future. 

It was HE who conceived the plan of salvation, in Eternity Past, before He even spoke the words, "Let there be light." It was HE who chose us in Him (Jesus, Himself) before the foundation of the world, planned for us (through Jesus) to be holy and without blame before Him (Eph. 1:4,5). At the Cross (and from Ages before the world began) God made Jesus, the Sinless One, to be our sin (ALL our sin: past, present and future) so that He could restore to us the glory we lost in Eden - the righteousness of God - in Him (2 Cor. 5:21). Not to condemn us to a life of slavery (touch not, taste not, handle not - Col. 2:21) but to free us from it (Gal. 5:1). Forgiveness is ours; we don't need to ask for it - it is OURS! He has broken down the walls between us and Him, and will continue to break them down within us so that EVERY aspect of our lives feels the warmth of His presence.

And we? we get to go along for the Ride. He is the conductor, He is the train, and He is the fuel; we are passengers. There is nothing that we can do to guarantee our arrival at destination (that's already been done for us too, see Phil. 1:6). Everything has been planned for, set up, started, is being maintained just fine, and will finish because HE has willed it so. 

We can relax. We can rest in His amazing, all-pervasive love. We can open ourselves to Him, knowing that only a great and supreme Love would reach down and translate us from darkness to light BECAUSE HE CHOSE TO. That's how much He loves. That's how much He plans for us, stays with us, and lavishes His Holy Spirit within each of us. 

There is nothing to prove. 
HE has done it all; HE will finish it all. 
Period.

What if? EVEN if.

The question "What if?" has been a prominent feature in my life. It's been a source of great stress and discomfort, and it could be followed by any number of possibilities based on fear. "What if they don't like me?" "What if I don't get the job?" "What if they say no?" "What if I don't get into that school?"  "What if they laugh at me?" ... the list is endless.  

And there's never an answer. The question hangs out there and begs fear to jump all over it and create all kinds of worst-case scenarios. And I have been blessed (although sometimes it doesn't FEEL like a blessing) a vivid imagination. 

The What If question even carries through to my spiritual life. "What if I don't pray fervently enough?" "What if I fail?" "What if I let Him down?" 

It dawned on me this evening that my performance, my success, is not the point. I put so much pressure on myself and it's (unfortunately) been drummed into me by the church as much as any other institution. I keep acting as though love is conditional, grace can only go so far, and my destiny can be influenced by how good I am at doing all those things I have been conditioned to do in order to get God to notice me: pray, meditate, fast, read the Word, go to church, attend Bible study, etc., etc., ... 

I'm not saying that there is anything wrong with those things. I am saying that if I am depending on my adherence to some standard set by someone else of what my behavior should be (there's that "S word" again) I will end up chasing my tail and winding up in defeat because I have forgotten that He is my source, He gives grace beyond measure, and He is the One on whom salvation rests (not me, thank God!!)

Photo "Sun In The Sky" courtesy of
graur razvan ionut at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Instead of asking "What if I fail?" or "What if I'm not saying the right words?" or whatever the question of the moment is, I wonder what would happen if I replaced my WHAT with an EVEN. ... 

An EVEN would prompt me to finish the sentence instead of dreaming up those worst-case scenarios. Here's an example. Take the question, "What if I fail?"  Hmmm.  That becomes "EVEN if I fail..."   "Even if I fail, He never does."  "Even if I don't say it right, God knows my heart and He cares about me."  "Even if I let Him down ... He's never let ME down."  "Even if I let go of Him, He still has hold of me. He stays faithful even if I've lost faith." 

His constancy is something I depend upon. It is my life.

It doesn't mean that I don't try; it means that my focus has shifted from my efforts to His sufficiency. It causes me to be grateful, not boastful when I "succeed" or despondent when I "fail." All that performance-based, rules-based living is nothing but a religious trap. 

I can be confident in His love. It's the one thing He keeps saying to me over and over again. "I love you." Even if my own love back to Him pales in comparison (and let's face it, we can never ever match His love, compassion, forgiveness, mercy, kindness, patience, you name it! Even if my love pales in comparison (and it does) ... His love is strong, passionate, enduring, and all-encompassing.

And it gives me something that all the "What ifs" in the world don't give me. It gives me joy - His joy - which, after all, infuses me deep inside with His supernatural strength.

Until Morning

This week has been a sad one. 

Two wonderful ladies I've known for a very long time both passed away this week.

The first was one of the first women to take me under her wing when I first started exploring the world of the Spirit-filled life, about 32 years ago. Jean was ... unique. There was such an inner thrill in her - and it didn't take long to figure out why. Her joy when she sensed God moving in someone's life just bubbled out of her like large bubbles coming up to the surface from deep inside. Her passion for people to be free, her perseverance and power in prayer, and her willingness to do whatever God said, when He said, for however long He said, was phenomenal. 

The thing I'll miss most about her, though, is the way she would give what I came to call her "holy hugs."  She'd wrap her arms around me and start to pray in the Spirit ... then she'd sense God's presence and she'd start to chuckle, a low, deep sound that reminded me of toffee cooking on the stove. She'd squeeze tighter as her joy just overflowed; I couldn't help but be touched. 

The same thing would happen when she hugged others as well. Her joy was contagious; people couldn't help but be affected. 

When I heard that she had passed away this past week, I felt sad - not for her but for me. She is happier, freer than she's ever been. But down here won't quite be the same without her.

Photo "Lighthouse At Sunset" by
Serge Bertasius Phtography at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Then, this morning, I learned that the second lady had passed away last Friday. I've known this woman for even longer than I knew Jean. 

Elma and her late husband were what I think of when I use the term "salt of the earth." Generous, giving, and accepting, she was in the running to become my mother-in-law at one point (yes, I dated her son for a while) and although nothing ever came of it, I always felt privileged to have met her and her husband, and held a special place in my heart for their whole family. 

She and her husband were so kind to me when I was pregnant with Arielle - and so sick I could barely drag myself out of bed, much less care for a toddler. When I was at my lowest ebb (hours away from being hospitalized for severe dehydration) they came over here and looked after our oldest, did housework and never expected any payment at all.... while I sat on the sofa and cried with mixed helplessness and gratitude. It was just what they did. They did what they could to bless people. And it worked. We were blessed ... beyond belief.

Our girls considered them their honorary grandparents. There was just something about Elma - sweet and humble and gentle, soft-spoken but yet respected (out of love) by her children. 

I will miss her.

Whenever someone passes away who is a believer, especially if that someone is special to me or to my loved ones, I have a habit of drawing something on that date on my calendar - the outline of a setting sun on the horizon. It reminds me of the old gospel song, "Sunset" - the chorus of which goes, "God paints the clouds in the evening sky to show me the way to the palace on high, and stars mark the pathway lest my feet should roam; it's Sunset, and I'm going Home." 

The promise of Heaven is not a hope-so-maybe kind of hope. It's a "know-so" kind of hope - a calm assurance that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. I know that Jean and Elma are there - enjoying the bliss of being face-to-face with Jesus. They are in that Never-ending Day - where there is no darkness, no pain, no sorrow, no separation. 

Good night dear ladies. Rest well - enjoy - and I'll see you in the Morning.

Beside Still Waters

For over a week I struggled with it. Every night (it was way worse at night) I'd awaken in the wee hours of the morning, feeling like I was drowning, unable to breathe because of the liquid in my throat and the back of my nose. Swallowing fiercely, snorting, swallowing some more, gasping for breath in between, I'd eventually get up and cough up unspeakably gross blobs of green into the sink, rinse them down the drain. 

When I finally got prescription medication for it, (the doctor thought it was bacterial) I took one - actually, 60% of one - dose of the prescription-strength cough syrup she suggested. It contained hydromorphone - a narcotic-based cough suppressant, as well as a very strong antihistamine (to quell the production of mucous). That was the worst night because there was absolutely NO moisture in my throat, not even the normal kind, and I awoke at 1:30 a.m. with a raging sore throat and no way to moisten it, afraid to take any other medication because I'd been warned against mixing them. (That was the last night I took that particular cough syrup!) 

I did take the antibiotics but they didn't seem to help. Ah, so it's viral and will just need to run its course.

And what a miserable, long course it has been. I've been home for a full two weeks of work.

To top things all off, I ran out of sick leave over a week and a half ago. The leave I have to take now is precious vacation time. It is limited. 

I've run the full gamut of emotions during this sickness - just plain fatigue, yes, but also frustration at not being able to sleep, frustration with myself that I can't fight this thing as quickly as I want, anger that nothing seems to help, sadness and helplessness that my body just can't get out of its own way, anxiety over what I'm going to do about my vacation leave, whether I will have enough, and the list goes on. 

Times like this cause me to question why such things happen. 

Well, it's been a stressful year, no doubt about that. And stress impacts the immune system. The house has had to remain closed in these frigid cold temperatures; that doesn't help. And someone, somewhere, decided it was a good idea to "tough it out" and go to work or to church or to a doctor's office, and in so doing, spread their germs for me to catch. 

I know this in my head. My heart, though, is another matter. All I want is for someone to make the hurting stop, to spoil and look after me, to listen to me when I need listening to, and to show me that I am loved. 

But He HAS already. He HAS shown me that He loves me - what more could He have done but to die for me?  He DOES listen to me. He dotes on my every word, whether spoken to Him directly or not. And He has unleashed an army of antibodies in my body to fight the internal battles I can't consciously fight. 

I listen to some worship music. I pray. I centre myself, breathe deeply ... (medication helps some) and remind myself that He looks after me whether I feel it or not. He constantly prays for me. He continually looks out for my welfare; I need to accept that and rest on it. 

"He leads me beside still waters." (Psalm 23)  I remember that sheep will not drink from moving (troubled) waters. The water must be still. Then the sheep will drink.

He stills the waters. He speaks peace. "I am here." 

Ah, there He is ... the Good Shepherd. The One who gave His life for me. He is here. All the questions melt away. 

I can drink. I can rest. 

Photo "Portrait Of A Baby Sheep In The Farm"
provided by ponsulak at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Majoring on Minors

There was a lady that used to come to my house when I was growing up; she came ever three months and got my mom to perm her hair. 

I never saw her in church, but she had a lot to say about it. Most often, she would ask a question that (to me) only showed how much she DIDN'T want to believe, how much she was trying to pick a fight. Every visit it would be a different one. Or two. Or three.

They were endless. Who was Cain's wife? Did Adam have a belly button? If God's so loving then why are there tragedies and wars and stuff like that? Is God male or female? What about science and evolution? Isn't God just some idea we created to make each other behave?  ... the list would go on and on. 

We'd patiently try to answer some of her questions but it only made things worse; she was determined not to respond in faith but with more questions, some of which - quite frankly - are unanswerable. 

She was majoring on minors.

Photo "Ring With Stone" courtesy of Boykung at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

I get it that people struggle with belief in God. I get that. I encourage honest questions from people seeking the truth. 

But this was different. This person thrived on confrontation and dissension. This kind of questioning wasn't designed to make it easier for her to understand the truth; this was to confuse, cloud and escape from the real issues: is God real? does He love me? can I trust Him? 

Just in case you were wondering, Yes, God is real; YES, He loves you; and YES you can trust Him. 

About five or six years ago, I met someone who struggled with the idea of a "higher power." She decided that her "higher power" was her "better self" or the person that she was when she wasn't messing things up.  Now ... those of us with faith in God might find that kind of thinking inflammatory, or (at best) sadly uninformed. I wish I could have conveyed to her how badly she was setting her self up for failure, since the very idea of a "higher power" presupposes a power outside of ourselves (since with our very best efforts, there is nothing that we can do to deliver ourselves from whatever addiction - or besetting sin, if you will - that has us in its grip). Believing that "I have it within me" will lead quite quickly to disillusionment and frustration. 

In order for God to be God, He has to be perfect, far above what you or I could imagine, and beyond our human - and puny - resources. If He isn't ... then He's not God. Reducing Him to a concept or a part of ourselves diminishes Him, diminishes His love and His power in ways that I can't begin to describe. Experiencing Him, experiencing His love for ourselves in a personal way is something that can't be argued, can't be refuted, can't be described. It is to be lived.

I believe that God knows where our hearts are, and if a person is truly seeking, He will find a way to reveal Himself to that person in a way that he or she will understand His love. He's not trying to hide. He wants to be found. Or rather - He wants us to understand that He's found US.

Instead of majoring on minors, then, can we not realize for our own selves that God IS real, that He DOES love us (so much that He died for us!!), and that we CAN trust Him. 

That's majoring on the majors. That's the "Good News."

Waiting for the rocks

One of my two favorite stories in the Gospels is the story of the woman caught in adultery.

We were discussing that story over breakfast. (A lot of times, posts on my blogs come from discussions I've had with people.) We'd been talking about how people form a relationship with Jesus. 

As many do, I suspect that this woman was a known adulteress, and that several of the Pharisees had availed themselves of her "services" before. They saw her as an object, a great way to relieve some tension before going home to critical, demanding wives (don't get me started). But in her they began to see a great way to set a trap for Jesus - and their "valuing" of her turned to betrayal. (How do I know this? because the Law said that both the woman and the man should be stoned; where was the guy???) 

They dragged her, naked, through the streets. They thrust her down in front of Jesus. "Rabbi! [don't you love how they toss that term around when they mean anything but that?] This woman was caught in the very act of adultery. The law of Moses says that such as these should be stoned. What do YOU say?"  (Read the story in John 8.)

The question was asked; the trap was set. 

And Jesus said nothing. 

The woman was crouched in the fetal position, sobbing, trying to escape as much public humiliation as possible. She fully expected the stones (big, heavy projectiles, not little pebbles!) to start flying any minute; she'd seen stonings before. Everyone had. 

He squatted on the ground beside her; He wrote things in the dust. What He wrote, we are not told. When pressed for an answer to their cleverly-designed question, He said simply (and this is how it appears in the Greek) "Whoever among you is without this sin, let him be the first to throw a stone." 

The Bible tells us that they dropped their rocks and split. Okay, it says that they left one at a time, beginning with the older ones, until all of them were gone.

Let's use our sanctified imaginations at this juncture. Here is the scene: A ring of robed men with big rocks in their hands, Jesus and the woman in the middle. Jesus is squatting and writing on the ground. The woman is sobbing in the fetal position with her head in her hands (as I've described) fully expecting the arrival of the first rock. 

She hears a rock hit the ground. She thinks it missed her. Her breath catches. 

One by one, the rocks fall to the ground as the Sanhedrin members realize their trap wasn't quite so clever after all, and they leave, convicted by their own consciences (possibly helped along by what Jesus was writing on the ground?)  And the crowd that gathered around them hushes. 

Jesus turns to the woman. "Where are your accusers? doesn't ANYONE condemn you?" 

And she looks around in wonder at the circle of rocks where the robed ones once stood. "No-one, Sir." 

The love in His voice was unmistakable. "Neither do I." 

Freeze frame right there. Before He says, "Go and sin no more," stop and think about what "I don't condemn you," means. 

Had she sinned? Oh yes.  Did she deserve death? According to the law of Moses, yes. Her lifestyle was totally exposed for all to see who were there. 

But He didn't condemn her. 

Photo "Stone And Sand Background" courtesy of
gubgib at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

She was waiting for the rocks to hit her. She'd been hit by hundreds of rocks before - all the dirty looks people gave her every day on the street felt like rocks hitting her soul. The way mothers shielded their children's eyes as they walked by the street-corner, the way men would leer at her, the contempt she saw when she passed by the scribes and priests in the outer court of the temple, all felt like sharp projectiles striking her, judging her, wounding her. 

I've felt those sharp rocks, those disapproving looks, those judgments from other people. I've felt the hot sting of shame for things over which I felt I had no control: my family, my socio-economic class, my (former and current) lifestyle, my parenting choices, and the list goes on. Each is an emotional stone - and does damage to the one it hits. The emotional rocks make the inner prison walls stronger, the sense of helplessness and hopelessness more intense. There is no escape.

Each of those sharp emotional rocks had made their mark on her ... every bit as real as the "real" rocks ... and now there was this day. This day she was sure she was going to feel the physical rocks hit her body. This is the day her life would end. She knew it.

And yet ... there they all are. The rocks are on the ground. She looks around and tries to grasp the idea that the Man before her actually saved her life - and restored her dignity. She looks up and sees the love and compassion in His eyes. For her. 

It rescues her. It sets her free. 

"I don't condemn you." Those words of forgiveness make her into a new person, one who doesn't want to live that lifestyle of shame anymore. He took her shame away, and gave her a clean slate.

Now. NOW, doesn't "Go, and sin no more" sound more like, "Here, let Me take off those chains. You're FREE!" than it does "Go study the rulebook and get your life straightened up"??

It sure does to me.

He. Is. Here.

The words to a little chorus we learned a few years ago are running through my head:

He is here, Hallelujah!
 He is here, Amen!
He is here, holy holy;
 I will bless His name again...
He is here, listen closely,
 Hear Him calling out your name; 
He is here; you can touch Him!
 You will never be the same.  - Kirk Talley (c) 2006

He is here. Such simple little words, but meditate on them with me for a few minutes.

He is here when we are all together worshiping. There's nothing like corporate worship to lift Him up and let us realize the truth of His presence together. I'm not talking about just singing songs; I'm talking about when hearts (not just hands or voices) are lifted in praise and gratitude and God seems to bend low to catch every word, every whisper, every tear shed. For some a mountaintop, for others a valley of weeping, He hears each heart's cry and He. Is. Here.

He is here when it's dark, when we can't see anything that is coming, when we feel at the mercy of our circumstances, and when sadness and discouragement roll over us like ocean billows. When there doesn't seem to be any hope, when there doesn't seem to be any answer, He. Is. Here. 

He is here when we think we have it covered. He is the One holding us, keeping us safe, even if we don't realize it and think that it's all our doing. He doesn't have anything to prove; He's already got it covered (He did that at the Cross) and the sooner we understand that, the sooner we will relax and not be so obsessed with getting it right. He. Is. Here.

Photo "Eagle In Flight" provided by
Jeff Ratcliff at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

He is here when we fail, when we fall. And sooner or later we will; we are human. He is still here, no matter what! His love will come up underneath us like a father eagle swoops down and catches a falling eaglet, too little to fly, on His back. He. Is. Here.

He is here when nobody else is. We long for the support of our loved ones, but the uncomfortable truth is that depending on other humans is a risky thing. Eventually, there comes a time when nobody else is in our corner. We can be alone. He. Is. Here. 

He is here when we call out to Him. Any time, anywhere, for any reason, He is delighted when we turn to Him, ask His guidance, include Him in our every day. He is waiting. Always. He. Is. Here.

He is here when we don't feel worthy. He believes in us, sees us as perfect in His sight, lifts us up and puts His stamp of approval on us. Because of the once-for-all sacrifice He made, He is enough for us when we feel "less than" - because He is "more than." And He makes us "more than" - because He. Is. Here.

He is here when we wonder where He's gone. Probably the most annoying thing about being human is that we can't see what's ahead, and we don't know what He has in store for us. Our inability to see beyond "what is" can make us uncomfortable with waiting until He opens doors for us. We spend a lot of time trying to force the lock. All the while He is preparing the way ahead of us. At such times, we can trust His love for us, trust His desire to grow inside of us what is best for us. Even when we can't figure Him out, He. Is. Here. 

He is here when we are afraid. Life can be overwhelming at times. Faced with realities like sickness, danger, even the cruelty of others, we can rely on His faithful presence. We can count on Him to be there to listen, to love, to help. We can lean on Him. He has already carried us when He carried the weight of the world on His back. He has defeated sin, death and the grave. He is the Master of the Universe. And He. Is. Here.

He is here when we step outside our comfort zones. He births the desire for something more in us, opens the door of opportunity for us and when we get ready to step through, knees can knock together! We can trust that if He brought us here, He will stay with us even if whatever it is, is hard. He can see the end from the beginning. He's got this. He's right in the middle of our situation, walking it with us, believing in us, and cheering us on. He. Is. Here.

His presence is everywhere. Like air, like life's blood, He is here. 

Listen closely; He listens to you.
Hear Him calling out your name; He's been doing it for a long time.
He is here, close as the breath you breathe.
You can touch Him; He's given His all for you; He loves you.
You will never be the same.

Un-punishable

Through the cross, Jesus introduced something into the world that we still don’t understand. He has made each and every one of us un-punishable. We are un-punishable.
~Danny Silk, Culture of Honor, p.80

Someone shared the above quote on Facebook today.

What Mr. Silk was talking about was grace. Pure and simple, grace goes beyond the acronym, "God's Riches At Christ's Expense" that we learned in Sunday school. 

I have searched for words to describe this concept, and when I saw the word "un-punishable" ... it reminded me of an experience we had in 1996, nearly 20 years ago (now THAT's hard to believe. It still feels a LOT more recent than that.) 

We went bankrupt. We'd made an effort in running a business and the debts piled up so much that we were six figures in debt (not counting the mortgage) and with no way out. 

For months, we robbed Peter to pay Paul - paid one credit card off with the other - or with a line of credit that kept growing more and more. When we borrowed money from a finance company for the second time in three months to buy groceries, we knew we couldn't dig ourselves out. 

It was time to say quit. 

Graphic "Tree Debt" courtesy
of jesadaphorn at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

The decision wasn't an easy one; it was wrenching, made even more so by the reactions of fellow-Christians into whose theology bankruptcy didn't fit. 

We felt alone, felt like failures professionally and personally, and felt completely, utterly overwhelmed. Trite, pat answers from well-meaning people just made things worse. This wasn't some financial crunch where there wasn't enough month at the end of the money; it was way beyond that. We'd already refinanced the house once, so selling wasn't an option. We were completely stuck. There was no way out.

So on the advice of the office of the Orderly Payment of Debt (yes, we tried going to them first and they knew that it was too much for us) we both declared personal bankruptcy. If only one of us did, the creditors would go after the other of us. So, we did it together. 

On September 30, 1996, we sat in front of a bankruptcy trustee. The definition of "trustee" is "a person whom someone trusts." I can tell you that we had major misgivings and that the trust we placed in this man was done out of desperation, nothing more. There was no way we could pay our debts. None. And this guy, with one simple signature, could fix that. 

We did everything that was required by law. We outlined every debt. We wrote down all our monthly expenses. Every. Single. One. He worked out a monthly budget with us as if the debt (excluding the mortgage, we would still have to pay that) did not exist.

And then he got us to sign some papers. And when he signed beneath them, he turned to us and said words I will never forget: 

"Your debt is gone. It has been written off, wiped clean. From this moment onward, under Canadian law, your creditors do not have the right to ever again demand payment from you for the debts that are on this paper. If they ever do, you send them to me." 

In spite of the stigma we felt for having to do this, it was like a great 10-ton weight dropped off our backs. The debt that was crushing us was absolutely and in every way, un-punishable. 

It was gone. And the trustee's job was to protect us from the creditors. 

That is the most precise worldly picture of divine grace that I could describe to you. There is NO condemnation. NONE. 

Except with Jesus, He wrote off ALL the debt. Every last sin, for every last second of the whole of our lives, past, present and future. The whole shooting match! And even if we mess up, even if we do it wrong, He is there to protect us from the attacks of the enemy, from the "you're not doing enough" demands for payment - accusations that somehow what Jesus did wasn't sufficient to pay our way and that it is somehow our responsibility to help Him out. 

NO. 

His grace is enough. He has made us un-punishable. Forever. 

Forever.

Faith - God's gift

"For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast." - Eph. 2:8-9

I've been thinking a lot lately about how and why it is that we humans tend to think that having a relationship with God has anything to do with what we do. 

It doesn't, you know. 

But somehow we fall into that trap door that Cain fell into. You remember Cain. Abel's brother, Adam's boy. Yeah, him. He got the notion that being acceptable to God was the way to have a relationship with Him. He figured if he could prove he was worthy enough, he'd be a shoe-in. On the other hand, Abel his brother knew that there was nothing he could do to secure God's favour. And so he did what his mom and dad told him was the only way (how else would he have known if not for the story of God clothing them with animal skins?) ... he sacrificed the best and purest of his flock. 

But Cain didn't get it. He didn't - or better put, he wouldn't understand that it wasn't about impressing God. In his mind, it couldn't be about resting in the one provision God made! He had to DO something! And when God told him that it wasn't acceptable - instead of doing what was acceptable (he already knew; he just could not accept it!) - Cain got angry. VERY angry.

We know the rest of that story.

Down through history we've done it over and over: we (individually and collectively) have tried to twist God's arm into paying attention to us. 

It never ends well. 

The apostle Paul was very meticulous about the simplicity of the gospel (some would say that in trying to show how simple it was, he made it sound so complicated!) His main concern was to show people that all they needed to do was believe in the authority of Jesus, the authority that His death bought and paid for, as our only way to a relationship with God. That's it, that's all. 

God is the One who thought up the notion of salvation. He's the writer and the completer of our faith. He didn't do it as a "Plan B" when Adam sinned; no, Jesus was our sacrifice and we were chosen to be in Him from before the foundation of the world. 

As the beginning Bible text shows, even the faith that we place in Him doesn't come from us. It comes from Him!! He gives to every person, the Bible says, the measure of faith. The same measure. Whether that person is an atheist or a Buddhist or whatever other kind of ist, every person is given that gift. But that gift (faith) alone does not automatically result in salvation. Like a seed, it depends on where it is planted. 

The process of bringing someone to salvation is accomplished by God. Jesus said in John 6:44, "No man can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him."

Pictures sometimes help us grasp how this works. One picture is of a lifebuoy, a red and white ring thrown to people who are in distress in the water. They can choose to grab it. Or not. Of course that analogy breaks down when you think about those who are too weak to hold on!! 

Photo "Ring With Stone" courtesy of
Boykung at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Of all the examples I could pick perhaps it's best to think about the example of a proposal of marriage.

The suitor has been wooing the intended for a while. And then the question is popped.

There are only two answers. 

Yes. 
No.

Yes takes the faith that has already been given, the knowledge of who the Lover is, of His character, His love, and trusts that love, rests in it, accepts the offer freely made. It's as simple as that. No strings, no buts, no ands, and no ifs. 

No means that the offer is rejected. 

It doesn't have to be more complicated than that.

I really don't need to get into all the theology in that description of the marriage proposal. The gospel can be understood by very small children. I've seen that understanding take place and watched a child as young as three years old ask Jesus to be her "special Friend." Believe me when I say that this child's whole attitude changed in that moment, and God has had His hand on her life ever since. 

Adding to that simplicity takes away from the beauty of it. 

Barry MacGuire's old song, "Cosmic Cowboy" (1978) gives another example:

I met a cosmic cowboy ridin' A Starry range
He's a supernatural cowboy and he's dressed-up kinda' strange
And at first, I didn't see him  being out there on the run
Yeah, but that ol' hat that he's wearing is shining brighter than the sun
And, when my eyes adjusted to the flashing of his smile
Hey, I saw his invitation: Say, come-on Barry, we'll go riding for awhile...

Cowboy of the night, Shooting rainbows through the night

We rode along together For more 'n half-a-day
Riding through the changing weather   Sky was all turned gray
Chilly winds were blowin'   Oh, the cold was cuttin' deep
Yeah, then it started snowin'  Trail was getting' steep
I was just about to turn-around  Head back the way we came
Somehow, without a sound   I heard him ... call my name

Cowboy of the Light   Shooting rainbows through the night

And looking up, I saw that we was high upon this ridge
And he took me by my arm  and led me right over to the edge
Hey, I was so scared I couldn't find a single word to say
You know, there's  ten-thousand feet of empty air
And it's just about an inch away!

But - a, billion miles was out beyond the waving of his hand
I was looking through his eyes right into another land

Cowboy of the Light shooting rainbows through the night

He said, this is my Father's ranch as far as you can see
He made it out of nothin' every branch and every tree
The stars, all the mountains, rivers and streams
The oceans, the fountains, and, the valley of your dreams
I know that place you're lookin' for
That place you long to be
Truth is, I'm the only door
You're going to have to pass ... through me

Cowboy of the Light shooting rainbows through the night

Bending back, I tipped my hat to look him in the eye
But he just smiled, and gave me confidence
And said, "Go-ahead and try!"
It was now-or-never and I, I knew I had to start
So, I took that step, and  I went fallin'
Straight in through his heart!

The first thing that I noticed coming out the other side
Hey, all my fears had vanished ...
He taught me ... how to fly!

Cowboy of the Light shooting rainbows through the night

Ahhh yeah, there's a cosmic cowboy and, he rides a starry range
He's a supernatural cowboy, He is dressed-up kind'a strange

And to think I, I nearly missed him being out there on the run
But, that old hat that he's wearing, it's shining brighter than the sun
Yeah, and when my eyes adjusted to the flashing of his smile
I saw his invitation, He said, come-on Barry
We'll go riding for awhile!
 
Cowboy of the Light, Whooo! Shooting rainbows through the night

Ha-ha-ha-ha, Ahhh!

Cowboy of the Light shooting rainbows through the night...
 

It's God's idea, God's initiative, God's calling, God's wooing, God's invitation. Once we say yes, it's God's Spirit in us, God's power in and through us, God's faithfulness in spite of us, and .... 

One more thing.  He always finishes what He starts. 
Always.

All that has taken my heart

"Lord, I will bow to You - to no other god
         but You alone...
 Lord, I will worship You, nothing hands have made,
         but You alone.
     I will lay down my idols, thrones I have made,
     All that has taken my heart, oh..
 Lord, I will bow to you, to no other god
     ... but You alone.

     I will lay down my idols, thrones I have made,
     All that has taken my heart, oh..
 Lord, I will bow to you, to no other god
     ... but You alone."     - - Bob Fitts

Yes. Yes there are Christian idols. There are things that take our hearts without us even being aware of them. 

I'm not talking about cars, or sports, or TV, or (fill in the blank that we turn to when we feel empty or bored). I'm talking about right inside the church.

When I first heard Bob Fitts sing the song I've quoted above, I was struck by how humble the man was. How he longed to worship God and God alone. Then I got to meet him and work with him briefly. His attitude in person was full of grace and gratitude. There was no hint of self-serving or arrogance in him. 

I fear that in some areas in church life, we've succumbed to an "American Idol" mentality. We follow superstars, or styles of worship (Hillsong vs Thousand Foot Krutch for example). We hear a worship band and reduce their ministry - which they give to Jesus - down to something that must be applauded, or tell them, "Good job!" (Job?? Really??) We rob them of their heavenly reward by lavishing earthly reward on them. 

Photo "Center Of Church" courtesy of Keerati at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

And that's not all. Idolatry is not just worshipping other gods. Idolatry is also worshipping a version of God that isn't really what He's about. Just like the children of Israel did once - it cost them three thousand lives that day. 

Let me explain. In Egypt, every altar or shrine erected to whatever god was being worshipped at the time had an altar base - a pedestal, if you will - which was made in the shape of Hathor, the goddess of the earth. She was represented by a cow. 

When Moses went up the mountain to get the law from God, the people got restless. "We can't just stand here," they thought. "We have to DO something!" They originally wanted to worship the God that brought them out of Egypt. They pressured Aaron into allowing it. They donated some of the gold they had plundered from the Egyptians and they made an altar base. Naturally it was in the shape of a bovine - a small cow - a calf. 

But it was JUST THE BASE. There was NOTHING ON TOP of the calf. (The Egyptians never did this. All their altars had something on top.) God's people intended to worship the "unseen God" which - they reasoned - was above the altar. But their worship and celebration soon focused on the human-made base upon which they had thought the presence of God would hover. They followed the practices they'd seen growing up (traditions of men). And they moved from a desire to worship God, to saying "THESE are the godS that brought us out of Egypt." 

Can you see the path of degradation into idolatry? 

This is what happens when people think that they can 'add' something to what has already been done for them. The people felt they had to add something of their own, something tangible, to this worship-fest. Just like the church today stumbles over the simplicity of the Good News and feels she has to add to it: the wood, hay and stubble of rules, regulations and ritual (1 Cor. 3: 11-13). 

Idolatry. It's spiritual adultery. 

Rules and regulations and rituals feel good. They make us feel comfortable, safe, like we are doing something for ourselves, securing our place, pleasing God. They take our heart, they steal it away from a life in which He is the centre because of His goodness, mercy and grace. Bit by little bit the focus becomes the altar (what we do or don't do for Him, our own human effort) and not Him. We get into the mindset that in order to please Him we have to appease Him, that is, to keep Him from getting mad at us by doing stuff He likes.

But don't we see? God is already pleased with us. Because of what Jesus did for us, we are already pure, clean, washed, made whole. We are the righteousness of God in Jesus, because He was made to be sin. For us. (2 Cor 5:21) Once for all time, He settled the sin question: past, present, and future. "He,  having offered one sacrifice for sins for all time, sat down at the right hand of God ... for by one offering He has perfected for all time those that are being made holy." (Heb 10: 12, 14.)

There is nothing we could do to add to that. It's already perfect. The forgiveness is complete, unconditional, absolute. "He is able to save them to the uttermost those who come to God by Him, seeing that He ever lives to make intercession for them." (Heb 7:25). "These things I have written to you that you might know that you have [present tense] eternal life, and that you may believe on the name [or in the authority] of the Son of God." (1 John 5:13).

This is basic stuff; this is the scandalousness - the lavish nature - of God's Grace. But it goes against our human nature. Like the people of Israel at the foot of Mount Sinai, we feel that we can't "just stand there" in the freedom with which Christ has made us free. We have to "do something" ... and in this lies the most dangerous fear-based lifestyle possible - thinking that we have to keep by our own efforts that which God has already freely given. 

So that is what I will lay down. I will lay down the idols of all my own efforts, all my own devices, all my arm-twisting where I try to behave myself so God will answer my prayers, and all my insistence on complicating His free gift, sullying it with my own kindling (wood, hay, and stubble). I will focus instead on His perfect sacrifice for me, and live in gratitude and worship to Him who gave all He had, all He was, for me, and who lives forevermore.

Between His Shoulders

I've been following a new blogger lately. She's been writing about something that to a lot of believers would be a 'ho-hum' topic: Grace. 

When I read what she writes, though, my heart stirs within me because she doesn't just talk about Grace as some theological construct but as a moment-by-moment, vibrant experience that has transformed her life even in the most mundane of experiences. She writes from personal, transformational experience and it's very, VERY hard to argue with that.

Not that I'd want to.

I've written many times about the gullible Galatians who thought they could add to what Jesus had done for them by keeping the law, following the rules, compiling a list of dos and don'ts. And I've said many times that this is the fallacy into which the modern church has fallen. Some have called this the Jezebel spirit - the spirit of religion. It is a very narrow view of a very wide, vast God.

My friend understands that, and for many years she lived in that religious experience. But she also understands and has experienced the truth: that the Christian life is just Jesus. That's it. There's nothing more complicated about it than that. Because of what Jesus did, we are forgiven: past, present, and future. No amount of straining or trying harder will make Him love us more or make us love Him more. It's just Him. Just His Grace. 

Many people I hang around with are actually frightened by that kind of talk. They think that saying that we don't have to DO anything once we are born again is equivalent to a license to sin (you know, "I can do anything I want because God will forgive me so I think I'll just go hog-wild.") I understand that the idea of that kind of Grace wouldn't make sense to someone who still believes more in the depravity of human nature than in God's unconditional love, who is thinking in human terms because human love is so often dependent on what the other person does or doesn't do. But God is bigger than that. His love isn't like our love. His love is limitless, lavish, and totally scandalous in its intensity.

Something my new friend said on her blog recently (in fact, her blog was how we met) struck me and vibrated something inside of me that was just waiting, longing for someone else to "get" this: "I have yet to see a heart that is gripped by God's unbelievable grace that wants to go out and sin. Just doesn't happen like that. No way. No how. In fact, I would have to argue that the opposite occurs!" (Read her whole post here.) 

Photo "Portrait Of A Baby Sheep In The Farm" courtesy of
ponsulak at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

 All afternoon, I've been reminded of an expression I read in the Old Testament somewhere and I knew I had to go look it up. It was a blessing that Moses pronounced on the tribe of Benjamin (which means 'Son of my right hand').  I found it in Deuteronomy 33:12 - "May the beloved of the Lord dwell in security by Him, who shields him all the day, and he dwells between His shoulders."

The picture of God's beloved one dwelling between God's shoulders has stayed with me for a long time ... for the place between His shoulders is His heart. The place of resting close to (or in) His heart takes me to Isaiah 40:11(b) - "In His arm He will gather the lambs and carry them in His bosom..." 

Jesus often used the metaphor of sheep to refer to His followers and He used the contrast between sheep and goats to talk about believers and unbelievers. Though related, sheep and goats are completely different species [and even if a sheep acts like a goat, it's still a sheep. (Just saying.)] Sheep respond to being led... or carried. Goats must be DRIVEN, forced to go where the goat-herd wants them to go. 

Once, we were spiritual goats. We needed to be externally motivated (i.e., given a good swift smack) to behave ourselves. Then we heard the Good News. The Shepherd had given His life for His sheep and offered to make us into new creations. Yes... sheep. A total species change. Only He had the power to do it, and once done, it was done for good. To the uttermost! There was nothing we could do to earn it; He did it all. And there is nothing we can do to keep it. He does the keeping. We have no strength? No problem. He picks us up and carries us between His shoulders, in His heart.

Because He loves us.
So.
Much.