the writing in the dust

Twenty-two years and seven months ago I surrendered my life to Christ. I was an emotional wreck, my marriage was a mess, I had a 3 year old daughter and was 9 months pregnant with my son. I was in crisis and, for the next twenty years or so, I remained in crisis. My marriage went from bad to worse to dead, while at the same time my daughter went spiraling out of control into self-destructive darkness.

In the midst of all of that, I discovered God. He taught me how to fight, and how to run for cover behind Him while the enemy assaulted my family relentlessly. I came to know His faithfulness, His power, and His own relentlessness to protect and defend that which is His. I came to know my all powerful, ever faithful God through a very long time of crisis. And now, my marriage is restored, and both of my kids are living lives sold out for Jesus. The dust has settled, and God stands victorious over the enemy who sought so hard to destroy a family. So for the past two years I have been trying to figure out what this nagging feeling deep inside of me is about. Why do I feel like I am wandering aimlessly around, looking for something I cannot define? This morning I figured it out. Actually, God figured it out and then told me about it.

I don’t know how to do relationship with God without a crisis.

For two years I have blamed this emptiness, this total dissatisfaction inside of me on everything from empty-nest syndrome to menopause, and my latest one…depression. All of those things are true in my life, but they are simply words to describe my behavior. They don’t explain the ache deep inside of me that co-exists with complete numbness. My empty nest isn’t the real reason that I feel more lost than found, or why the scriptures that gave me life all those years now look like just words on a page. This is me, being real. Because I can’t be anything else right now. I don’t have the strength for it.

But at least I know what it is now. I feel as though God just wrote it in the dust on my dining room table (because depressed, menopausal women who live in empty nests don’t dust very often), and He and I just are staring at the truth in that dust. Now what? Do I introduce myself to this omnipotent Being who just pulled my family from the wreckage of hell, as we both stand here in the after-the-war silence? What do I say, when shouting and declaring His promises over my family seems out of place now?

It was the voice of my daughter that God used to write the truth in that dust. We had a conversation this morning…her in Africa, me here in this very quiet house in Illinois. As I told her a little bit of my “empty-nest” woes, she matter of factly said this, in so many words:

“Being a wife and mother is a gift God gave to you, but it is not why He created you. You were made for relationship with Him, so maybe that’s what you need to concentrate on now.”

That’s what I heard my daughter saying to me. But what I saw God writing in the dust was, “You don’t know how to be in relationship with Me outside of a crisis”.

So, here’s the deal. I love God. I love His Word. I know His faithfulness and His power to heal and restore the most broken things. I know Him as a victorious God that puts the enemy to flight, chases after prodigals until they chase Him back, and turns hearts of stone into hearts of flesh. I know Him in the rage, chaos and deafening sounds of battle. I know my place and my purpose in the war.

I’m just unsure of what to do in green pastures, beside quiet waters.

Standing across from Him, staring at the truth, I could think of only one thing…

“My heart says of You, ‘Seek His face!’ Your face, Lord, I will seek.” (Ps. 27:8)

banished no more

For some reason, I landed in 2 Samuel 14 today.  As I was reading about people I don’t know, in the middle of a story that I knew nothing of, the words of verse 14 glowed like neon lights…

“But God does not take away life; instead, He devises ways so that a banished person may not remain estranged from Him.”

wandering-in-desertBeing a woman attracted by bright lights and all things shiny, I became captivated by that sentence and my thoughts wandered away from Absolam, Joab and the woman from Tekoa. A paintbrush begins to move across my mind, and a picture is emerging.

God, beautiful and holy, watching as His beloved falls under the deception of evil. Then, banishment. Wanderings and sacrifices. Rebellion and repentance. Love, calling out through His prophets, “Return to Me!”.

God, beautiful and holy, stepping down to the fallen earth to be among His beloved. Healing and hope. Light and life. Love, coming to rescue.

God, beautiful and holy, now bloody and beaten, hanging between His throne and Hell. Life and death.  Love, paying the price.

God, beautiful and holy. Calling, drawing, pursuing. Capturing, cleansing and captivating. A people, once estranged, now brought near. Love, calling a bride.

Redeeming Love. Beautiful and holy.

A way for the banished to be banished no more.

exposed expectations

Who is like God? “No one!” I shout without hesitation. I’m smart enough to know the right answer to a question like that. So then let me rephrase it.

Who do I expect to be like God? 

And that’s the question that makes my heart start to squirm.

Before I go on, let me just say something up front. I intensely dislike this business of “being honest with myself”. But I’ve learned two things concerning this annoying process:  First, God is ruthless when it comes to exposing the things that keep me from changing. He’s not put off by my squirming, my whining or by my obvious attempts to avoid this process. He just keeps coming. Second, it brings revival. At the end of the process, my heart is changed, something has been healed, and my love and knowledge of God have had a sweet explosion. So I’ve learned to say “yes” to something I’d rather say “no thank you” to, which actually brings up a third bit of learning…

My “yes” to God, even in the hard things, will always be worth it.

So let me go back to the question. “Who do I expect to be like God?” To find out, I need to recall a few things I know to be true of God. The scripture references I will list is not by any means exhaustive. The questions I ask are the process I go through in allowing God to expose my heart.

His is an unfailing love. (Ps. 13:5; Ps. 33:18; Is. 54:10)

In my humble estimation, every slight we feel, every offense, every rejection, every betrayal is, at its core, a love that has failed. Who has failed to love me? Spouse? Children? Parents? Friends? The Church? Has it brought an offense that I just cannot get past, unforgiveness that I can’t turn into forgiveness? Has it made me run away and hide? Has it hardened my heart?

The answer is yes..to all of it. The unmet expectation of an unfailing love from people has been a set-up for my heart, and my heart responded accordingly. The damage was great, both to me and to others.

When the scriptures speak of unfailing love, they always point to God, never to man.  My head knows it, but my heart has a bad memory. It still looks to be loved no matter what, by people who are not like God. In all of my unlovliness, my unfaithfulness, my selfishness and my all together unlovableness, God will not fail to love me. People will. I want that to be ok with me.

He is my Healer and my Deliverer. (Ps. 103:3; Ps. 147:3; The Gospels; 2Samuel 22:2; Ps. 40:17; Ps. 70:5)

Where is the first place I turn when I need healing, whether it’s physical, mental, emotional or spiritual healing? Where do I go when there is something I just can’t get past…a wound, an offense, a sinful habit? In my early days of faith, I went to people. Lots of them. And I would love to say that today I no longer place my expectations on other people to bring me healing, or deliverance. But one look around my house at the stacks of books and cds I have bought tell a different story.

stack_of_books-300x199Deliverance and inner-healing ministries; Christian counselors and psychologists; schools of healing; books galore. Most of these resources that the Church has access to are good and very helpful.  But this is what I have observed in the Church lately – “Oh, you’re struggling? Here, you need to read this book. It’s amazing.” Or, “you need to go see so-and-so”. It’s like watching the Church on auto-pilot, sending the sick and wounded to people, rather than sending them to Jesus. Is it intentional? I don’t believe so, but none the less, it has set people up with expectations that will often bring disappointment, because we are frail and weak, and we succumb to the temptation to expect others to be like God for us.

I was recently speaking to a woman who called me for help with her marriage. Near the end of our conversation, I felt overwhelmed by what she was dealing with, and do you know what I said to her? “I think you need professional help”!! Yes. I said that, all the while knowing that the Word of God held her answer.  The Body of Christ is well equipped to help people, because we know Christ, we know His Word and we (should) know His power. But we are not their healers or their deliverers. I believe we need to get back to telling people that their help is in Jesus…not in a book, not in a ministry, not in a pastor…in Jesus.

No one heals like God. No one delivers like God. He must be the first place I go in my time of need. And because God so often works through His Body, He may choose to have me go to His Body to get counsel, but I am to go knowing that the power to heal and deliver is found only in God.

He alone is sinless. (Hebrews 4:15; 1John 1:8)

This one took some digging, but one thing I can count on is that God will dig until He finds what He wants me to see. What takes place in my heart when someone has the so-called “fall from grace” (a term I do  not like, nor agree with)? What does my heart feel when I find out that a Church leader, or the person I looked up to,  has been caught in adultery, pornography, or an addiction? Do I become a little jaded? Do I lose faith in people, or worse yet, in Christianity? Does my heart become fearful, thinking that if it can happen to them, then what’s to become of the rest of us? Do I lose respect? Is it all because I have an expectation that Christians, especially those in leadership or in public ministry, should be like God? I would not have thought so, but now I’m not so sure. Jimmy Swaggart, Jim Bakker, Ted Haggard, Richard Roberts (son of Oral Roberts)…the list goes on, even down to one of my own former pastors. At the sound of their fall from the pedestal they were on, my heart felt disappointment, and the more it happens, the more hopelessness creeps in. Not grace, not mercy, not prayer nor indignation at the enemy’s schemes…disappointment, anger, hopelessness and even fear. Why? Apparently because people who were not supposed to sin did what they weren’t supposed to do. They failed to be like God. And I excelled in my sinful response.

An exposed heart is a crazy kind of scary. But I firmly believe that if I am willing to expose mine, it will help you have the courage to expose yours. To yourself. To God. To allow Him to be ruthless in going after the things that keep you from knowing Him more, from going deeper with Him, and then deeper still.

“With whom, then, will you compare God?
To what image will you liken Him?”

““To whom will you compare Me?
Or who is My equal?” says the Holy One.” Isaiah 40:18, 25

Father, forgive me for ascribing to others the love, power and perfection that is found in You alone. Help me to gather all of the expectations of my heart and lay them only at Your feet, not the feet of another. For I know that You alone are God, and there is none like You. You, my God and my King, are beyond compare.

the process of purpose

“For when David had served God’s purpose in his own generation, he fell asleep…” Acts 13:35-37 

He was a shepherd and a King.  He was a murderer, an adulterer, and  a man after God’s own heart.  He was loved and he was hated.  Disobedient and repentant.  He knew sorrow and joy, failure and victory, fear and trust.

It all served God’s purpose.

Plan-DesignIn the midst of a most painful, flesh killing time of learning to walk His way, I remember asking God a question. “When are You going to bring about Your plan?”  I knew He had a plan and I was trusting Him for the plan…but I was anxious for us to actually get to the plan.

“This IS the plan.”

One huge hissy fit later, I picked myself up off the floor and let Him continue to teach truth to my stunned heart.

God’s purpose is as much about the process as it is about the outcome.  I was waiting for the restoration of a marriage, but it was in the process of restoration that I saw and learned so much of God’s heart and character. I became an eye witness to His mercy, His love that won’t quit, and to His undeniable, undefeatable power.

And yet, He remains a mystery.  How does He do what He does?

Turn hatred into love?         Bitterness into compassion?

Rebellion into surrender?        Fear into trust?    Unbelief into faith?

How does He heal a heart that was so wounded? Transform a mind that was so contrary? How does He peel back our fingers and loosen our grip on our own lives and our own plans?

Bring beauty from ashes?                   Turn mourning into dancing?

I don’t know, but He does it through the process of our circumstances.

I was so anxious to get to the end of the place I was in, to the outcome of what God was doing. It wasn’t until He floored me with “This IS the plan” that I learned to stop longing for the destination and start looking for Him in the journey.

Pain, grief, defeat, lonliness…joy, victory, love…they all make up our lives. And in all of it with us is God, making sure none of it is wasted.

Making sure our lives serve His purpose.

“In Him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of Him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of His will…” Ephesians 1:11

What is your circumstance…your process? Has pain blurred your vision of God? Are you backed into a financial corner with no way out? Are you in a struggle to have hope? Is your life in the fire right now?

God is in it with you, and it will serve Him.

Your life…the purpose of God in your generation.

beautiful distraction

They were, I think, typical sisters. One was a tattletale, and the other one wouldn’t help out around the house. Their story has been told, taught on and used as examples that often bring guilt to women who like to “do” rather than just “be”.

Their story is in Luke 10:38-42, and when I really looked at it from a study perspective, I found a few treasures.

“As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, ‘Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!’

  ‘Martha, Martha,’ the Lord answered, ‘you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.’”

First, Martha opened her home to Jesus. And then she turned her eyes to Mary and was offended by what she saw.

Have we invited Jesus into our lives and then turned our eyes to other people?

The Lord’s rebuke was gentle.  “‘Martha, Martha,’ the Lord answered, ‘you are worried and upset about many things…”.

I have never known Jesus to shine His light on just one particular action in my life. Whenever I have felt His gaze on something I am doing or not doing, He is exposing a heart issue. So I can’t help but wonder if Martha’s being “worried and upset about many things” was something that characterized the way she lived her life, rather than a momentary condition.

Life offers us many reasons to be worried and upset. One day, we could look around and find our lives characterized by worry, because we have neglected the only thing that was needed…time spent listening to Jesus.

And now we come to my favorite part of this teaching. This is the part that stirs something in me, fanning my flame of faith.

The King James wording for “worried and upset” is “cumbered”. That word means “drawn away”. So let’s picture the scene for a moment.

Jesus enters the home of these two sisters and takes a seat. Mary finds a spot at His feet and listens to Him speak. Meanwhile, Martha is trying to “get it all together” for her guest. I think she might look like me on Thanksgiving day. Only probably less frazzled.

Two women. Sisters. Both love Jesus and are loved by Him. But on this day, one is drawn away from Him by the many things that need to be done, while the other is drawn to Him…just to hear His voice.

Both women are distracted. Martha, by the many things that, in her mind, needed to be done. But the Holy One she had invited in gently reminds her that “only one thing is needed”.

at His feet
Mary had found the one thing. The beautiful distraction.

desperate encounters – the finale

She still can’t believe he’s gone. The ache in her heart compels her once again to go to the grave. She knows he isn’t really there, but she finds her only comfort in the place where his body lay. She just wants to be near him.

A Delivered Woman

She was among those who traveled with Him as He preached good news. (Luke 8:1-3)

She was with Him at the cross. (John 19:25)

She was at the tomb when He was buried. (Matthew 27:57-62)

And early in the morning, while it was still dark, she made her way back to His grave.

John 20:10-16

“Then the disciples went back to their homes, but Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.  They asked her, ‘Woman, why are you crying?’  ‘They have taken my Lord away,’ she said, ‘and I don’t know where they have put him.'”

She had come to be near Him, only to find Him gone.

“At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.  ‘Woman,’ he said, ‘why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?’ Thinking he was the gardener, she said, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.'” 

She saw Him, but in her grief and desperation, she did not “see” Him. She just wanted to know where He was, and was even willing to go get His body. Do you hear her desperation?

Her name was Mary Magdalene, and she followed Him with the devotion of one who knows what it is to be rescued from darkness. It is here, at the tomb, that we see the impact Jesus had on this woman. Once He had set her free, she no longer wanted to be without Him.

And with one word, one intimate word spoken by Jesus, her desperation was answered.

Jesus said to her, ‘Mary.'” 

In the deep place, where desperation resides, Mary was desperate for His presence. And in that moment when her desperation collided with the One she couldn’t “see”, He revealed His presence through the intimacy of calling her by name.

I am very fond of Mary Magdalene. While I have not been delivered of seven demons, I have been rescued from darkness. And like Mary, I am utterly devoted to my Deliverer. But so often I find myself unable to “see” Him, and I feel that same desperation for the presence of the One my heart loves. And then…He calls my name. Water for a thirsty, desperate heart.

 We’ve stepped into the world of four desperate women who encountered Jesus. These women lived their desperation out loud. Many of us work so hard to keep ours silent.  Too often, we are women who are strong and self-sufficient…keeping our desperation at bay, but barely.  We are afraid to be desperate, believing it to be a sign of weakness. But in the Gospel, I make a wonderful discovery.

Jesus is drawn to weak, desperate people.

The world offers us many things to distract us from our desperation, and quiet that inner ache. And yet, desperate people are all around us, both outside and inside the Church.

Nothing the world can offer will satisfy our desperation. It may hide it, it may numb it…but only when Jesus encounters it, is our desperation satisfied.

Perhaps surprisingly, it is in the secret place that I have encountered Him most. Not at church. Not at a conference. Not in the right setting with the right lighting and the right worship song. I have encountered Him most when I have been alone with Him in His word, as the truth of His love and mercy washed my soul.  In those times of silent prayer, when my lips had no words and I just had to trust He could hear my desperate heart…this is when I’ve heard Him call my name.

Encounter Jesus.

desperate encounters – pt. 3

This is part 3 of a 4 part post in which I look at four women, desperate for different reasons, who encountered Jesus. In part 1 I highlighted the woman at the well. You can read that here.  Then we looked at the woman with the issue of blood in part 2. Today I want to get to know one of my favorites. Actually, they are all my faves, but today’s desperate woman just speaks to me.

From Luke 7:36-48

The Sinful Woman

To be invited to a Pharisee’s home for dinner was not a small thing. It meant you were “somebody”. To have the lastest teacher or prophet at your home was an honor. No doubt Jesus’ popularity meant Simon the Pharisee wanted to be seen with Him. Given the fact that the Pharisees were always trying to trip Jesus up, this dinner party could also have been an opportunity to publicly embarrass Him. We really don’t know. What we do know, is that Simon did not extend customary hospitality to his esteemed guest, so I’m leaning toward Simon’s motives being a little shady here. Nevertheless, Jesus reclined at Simon’s table. Dinner would have been eaten around a very low table, and Jesus would have been reclining on one arm, supported by divans or cushions.  His feet, sandals removed, would be stretched out behind Him. And to those sinless feet, a sinful woman would come to worship.

sinful womanThink about her life:  No husband, alone, no way to support herself, known all over town as “a sinful woman”, which most likely meant she was a prostitute. Her prospects did not look good. Few men would marry such a woman. She would have been shunned by respectable society and prohibited from participation in the local synagogue.

She was unclean, unwanted, unacceptable, uninvited and unwelcome. So she came to Jesus with nothing but her desperation and an alabaster jar. And with these, she made a public display of repentance and worship. She pushed past the scorn of those around her, and she worshipped the One who could forgive her sin.

                             Our desperation can take us into many places before we finally let it drive us to the feet of Jesus.

“When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, ‘If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is — that she is a sinner.'”

But He did know. And when He was finished with Simon, the Pharisee also knew what kind of woman she was. Forgiven. Publically, for all to hear, Jesus gave her worth and dignity.

He honored her in front of the very ones who considered her unworthy of honor.

 I think of this woman, and I remember. I remember my own desperation,  having nothing else to offer Him. I too wept at His feet many, many times as the forgiveness I had received from Him gave way to an outpouring of worship from within me.

Yes, I think of this woman. Desperate enough to go where she was not welcome, to encounter the Savior. In that encounter, she found forgiveness, and offered her worship to the Forgiver.

sinful woman2A most beautiful encounter.

 Read the Finale of Desperate Encounters