Category Archives: Blog

glory

joint

A very broad stroke of the brush would reveal that I spent my teen years running and numbing. Running from…everything, I guess. Reality. Pain. Fear. All of which I numbed with drugs. Way too many drugs at way too young an age.

My 20’s were lived for the moment. I left one marriage and entered into a live-in relationship with very little time in between. People who are desperate to be loved do that sort of thing. Drugs and alcohol flowed abundantly in that decade, because I still wasn’t quite numb enough. That live-in relationship morphed into a marriage with two kids, and on the edge of 30, Jesus rescued me. I didn’t ‘find’ Jesus. He was never lost. He didn’t ‘find’ me. He had been in pursuit of me the whole time. He knew right where I was at all times. And at what I can only assume was exactly the right moment, He reached down and pulled me out of the darkness.

I wasn’t living in that darkness. No one really does. But I was very busy dying in it.

In my 30’s I was raising two kids, fighting with my husband, and trying to learn to love God. Raising children with no idea of what I was doing. Like most things in my life, there was no planning, no real intentions concerning motherhood. I desperately loved my children, but it wasn’t enough to keep them from the effects of a broken marriage between two very broken people.

fire-heart

In my mid-40’s, things turned. I was on the brink of divorce when God offered me another way. His plan was for restoration. His method was to put me into a refining furnace. From a distance, it looked like a very unreasonable, unfair plan. But up close, in that fire with my own heart, I (eventually) knew God was doing it right. In that fire, my selfishness rose to the top, along with my judgmental nature and my conditional love. In the fire, my exhausting need for love came to an end, as God asked me a question. “I love you. Can that be enough for you?”. I was painfully aware that it was a yes or no question. In the fire, I discovered how easy it is to believe you are following Jesus, only to find out you were just following your own ways.

I’ll save more “fire stories” for future posts.

And then I turned around and here I am, in my early 50’s, wondering how life went by so fast. The past year itself has seen God’s shaking in our lives, uprooting us from 28 years in Illinois and moving us to Texas, complete with numerous stories of His provision throughout that process. I have told the story to many people, and have heard on more than one occasion, “I don’t know that I could have done that”. Oh, I don’t know about that.

You could, if on your 50th birthday you realized how much time you had wasted on you and your own life. You could, if on that same birthday you had asked God for just one thing – to make the second half of your life be about His Kingdom and His glory and not about you.

You could, if you knew God had heard you and you suddenly found yourself in the middle of His “yes” to your prayer.

I try not to spend a lot of time dwelling in the past, but every now and then I need to look back. I need to see the beautiful spectacle God created. The story of His persistent pursuit, of His rescue and His loving push into His refining furnace. His faithfulness to grow me up from a petulant, rebellious child into a woman who is…less so. His goodness still takes me by surprise, and I have yet to figure out if that is a good thing or not.

So what would I go back and change, if I could? I’ve thought about that question a lot and at first, a long list of things goes through my head. But in the end, I wouldn’t change any of it. I’d keep every painful minute of my past. Because my past is full of God’s glory.

The glory of a God who isn’t afraid of the dark but will pursue you right through it until you fall panting into the light. The glory of a God who ignores your refusals, because He knows that you don’t know why you are so afraid to say yes to Him.

The glory of a God who loves your children way more than you do, and who has plans for them that you cannot destroy. I can describe the glory of a God who goes after your prodigal child and brings her back to Him and teaches you of His unstoppable faithfulness in the process.

I can tell you that while God may permit you to divorce, He does not command it, and He just may show up and ask you to reconsider, because He is planning glory.

I can tell you that a broken marriage can be healed, no matter who or what broke it.

I can tell you that a dead marriage simply means a resurrection instead of a healing.

I can tell you that God knows what will bring Him glory. We mostly do not.

I can tell you that God is more sovereign than you think, more powerful than you imagined, and far more loving than you believe Him to be. 

I would not change one thing about the life that puts that glory on display.

And I can’t help but ask for more.

it’s time to jump

high diveI only jumped one time. That was enough. When I take my mind back to that moment, I can still feel the fear. I saw others jump with ease, and go right back for more. I knew I could swim. I knew that the water was safe. I believed the mechanics of jumping, that if I went straight in, the water would catch me, I would touch the bottom and push my way back to the surface. And the one time I jumped, it happened just like that. I think I was crying when I got out of the water, and I never, ever climbed that high dive again. I remained terrified of jumping, but I never understood why.

(because believing and trusting are not the same)

I was watching a group of kids recently, barely toddlers. They were in the playroom at church, climbing up through the giant tubes and tunnels, sliding down and going right back for more. Only a few held back, content to go up the few steps so they could come down the small slide. But most of them were absolutely fearless. It never occurred to them that something bad could happen to them. We had led them in there and turned them loose to play, so they played with abandon.

(adults believe. children trust)

And then life happens. Hearts get broken. Innocence gets taken. We fall, we get hurt, we find ourselves alone. We learn the hard truth that not everyone is good, and sometimes, everything doesn’t turn out okay. Sometimes things just get worse. And fear comes in and bullies our trust into submission.

(“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”)

Jesus said we must change and become as little children. Change is a process. It takes time to grow from an adult into a child. To learn the truth that God is good. But time belongs to God and God cannot be bullied by fear. Instead, He sends love into the fight. And like ocean waves it just keeps coming, beating back the fear that keeps us from jumping. Because trust and fear do not dwell together, no sir, one of them must go, and God cannot be bullied.

Trust renders us dependent upon the one we are trusting. Isn’t that it, really? It’s the falling backward, trusting the one standing behind you to catch you that makes us vulnerable, wholly dependent on someone else’s ability to be trusted. No control. And isn’t the need for control the darkest place in our heart, after all? Isn’t that the biggest fear of them all?

(“but there is a God in heaven…”)

And the hardest thing about growing from an adult to a child is realizing that we never did have control. Not really. Some would call it an illusion. I think deception is a more fitting name.

Do I dare say my next thought? The one that keeps pulsing against my heart? Believing makes you safe. Trusting makes you dangerous.

(because believers rarely jump)

I am a believer, becoming a child who trusts. Because God has refused to be wave1bullied by my fear and love has been beating against my heart like ocean waves.

And He has me at the high dive again. I believe He is with me. I believe He is good. I believe He has good plans for me. But none of that will get me to jump.

I have to trust Him to catch me.

Luke 18:16; Matthew 18:3; Daniel 2:28

Note:  Many times Jesus asked, “do you believe?”, or He said that someone’s faith had healed them, etc. Both of those words contain, within their biblical definition, the word ‘trust’, and the idea of going beyond having a knowledge of something to actually trusting what you believe. In other words, when Jesus said “do you believe Me?”, He was asking “do you trust Me?”.

Webster’s dictionary does not use the word ‘trust’ in its definition of the word ‘believe’, and I am convinced that neither do many of us.

for you i pray

I wanted to tie 2012 up in a nice bow, bid it a fond goodbye, wax poetic about lessons learned and new beginnings and such. But my heart keeps turning away from all of that, bidding my mind to stop chattering long enough to just listen. And the weight of what I hear bends my heart, bowing it low. Voices from this past year. Conversations I’ve heard, words I’ve read. And I feel the Holy Spirit in this little room, this prayer room. I feel His weight on my heart as He reminds me to step out of my small story. And so I enter yours, with prayer…

hanging_by_a_threadFor those who spent this year hanging on by a thread. Maybe it’s a thread of hope. Maybe a thread attached to the hem of His garment, but a thread nonetheless. For you, I pray you will stop trying to trust Him. Trust is not something you try, it’s something you choose. He wants so much more for you than a thread of hope, a thread of trust. He wants handfuls for you. I pray that you will not be content with a thread in hand, but that you will let go of His garment and grab onto Him, and find your hands overflowing, unable to contain what you hold. For you, the thread holder, I pray ~

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

A year of both hands full of Christ, holding on to all of Him with trust and confidence, and hope that overflows. Both hands, beloved, grab onto Him with both hands, and let go of the thread.

PENTAX ImageFor those who suffered great loss and spent time in the ash heap of mourning. For you, the one now familiar with great sorrow and what surely feels like unquenchable pain. I pray you will know His comfort, like a balm, for that pain. I pray God opens His hand and pours forth joy, like oil over your mourning heart. I pray that at just the right time, His time, He will invite you to dance. Yes, beloved, you have known the time to mourn, but there is still a time to dance. I pray that this year you will receive grace to comfort others with the comfort you have received. I pray for all of your pain, all of your grief, every tear to be used, nothing wasted. And I pray that His promise will strengthen you on those days when grief attempts to hijack your heart ~

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

I pray that you will emerge from the ashes, steadfast and sure that all of this, the pain, the tears, the death, are all temporary conditions. That you will know and give others the hope that a reunion will happen, a holy hand will wipe away the last of the tears, and never again will you know this pain.

For those who spent the year afraid. Afraid something will never end, or perhaps that nothing will begin. Afraid of too much or not enough. Afraid that you didn’t hear Him right, or that you did. Afraid of what you feel, or of the fact that you feel nothing and maybe you never will. What if nothing changes? What if everything changes? For the one tormented by fear, I first pray peace for your wildly beating heart. I pray that this year He will lead you on a journey of letting go of fear. A journey of cliff jumping into faith, arms wide, heart fully expecting to be caught by His hands. I pray that you will know that He is with you, always, and that He will not drop you. I pray that your heart will come to know perfect love in the deep places where fear often hides. For you, the one who lived this year full of fear, I pray you will hear the voice of your Savior ~

“Don’t be afraid; just believe.”

I pray that this will be a year of increasing faith for you, the year where belief in the power and love of your God leaves no room for fear.

For the one who lived with disappointment. Unmet expectations that took the wind out of your sails throughout the year. Hopes and plans and dreams that fell apart. Your heart grows weary. I pray for you, dear one. I pray that this will be the year of renewed hope in God, and lower expectations in people. I pray that all of your hope, every last drop of it, will be in God and God alone. I pray for strength to hold on, and strength to let go. To let go of people and hold firmly to God, where your hope will find no disappointment. I pray that this year will find your prayers being answered, for God knows what hope deferred does to our hearts.

“But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear Him, on those whose hope is in His unfailing love…”

Hoist your sails again, friend, and lift your voice in prayer with confidence that your God hears, your God sees, and your God will answer. His love will not fail.

For the one who tried. You tried being good enough. Tried praying, tried church. Tried to read the bible full of words you don’t understand. Tried to be nicer. Tried saying the right things the right way, tried fitting in. You followed the list of do’s and don’ts. You tried, but your life is still a mess. Your heart is still empty and so are your pockets. Your addiction still rages, and your marriage is still broken. And you just don’t get it. For you I pray that this was the last year.

The last year that you remain pinned to the ground by the enemy. The last year that you live unaware of Love. Unaware that there is a Father in heaven who created you, longs for you, and gave up His Son so that you could know Him.

I pray someone will be brave enough to walk up to you and tell you the truth; that what you need is grace and trying isn’t currency to buy it with because grace is free, and only grace can put us back together and Jesus has the grace to give if you will just come. Come, while you are yet a sinner. While you are yet broken and messy, with all that rages in you and against you…come. I pray they tell you that trying won’t save you, it takes dying and Jesus did that dying for you.

cross1

“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

For you, my messy, broken friend, I pray that this was your last year of trying. I pray this is the year you cry out to Jesus in faith that He is who He said He is…the only One who can save you. I pray this is the year you find freedom in Christ, and you find out just how loved you really are by Him. I pray this is the year someone tells you.

To all my friends, family, and those I encounter through the written word…I pray for you, and for me…

Our Father in heaven, Your name be honored as holy.
Your kingdom come. Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.And do not bring us into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one. For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.

Happy New Year!

Romans 15:13; Ecclesiastes 3:4; Revelation 21:4; Ephesians 3:17-18; 1John 4:18; Mark 5:36; Psalm 33:18; Romans 5:8; John 14:6; Matthew 6:9-13

doulos

Woke up with a massive migraine. Took painkillers left over from the car wreck. Woke up five hours later feeling hungover, but the tiny people were no longer using giant sledgehammers on my brain. Now they’re just rubber mallets. Much better. Opened my bible, thinking Psalms, or maybe Song of Songs. Something soothing.

Instead I went to James. I’m as surprised as anyone. Who reads James when they don’t feel good? I don’t know, because I didn’t actually read James. I read the first sentence and then tripped.

doulos“James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ”…

I think his opening words meant much more to James and the first readers of his letter, than to us. In fact, I bet most of us just skim over those words,  because who pays attention to introductions? The writer is simply identifying himself.

James was the brother of Jesus, and at first did not believe his brother was the Messiah and openly opposed Him. But James eventually became a believer, and very well known in the Church. He was the leader of the church in Jerusalem, and a “pillar” of the Church, according to Paul. James could have identified himself using any number of words. Personally, I think most of us would have pulled out the “brother of Jesus” card for sure.

Who are you, James? “a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ”.

What comes to mind when you hear the word ‘servant’? I think of foot washing. I think of someone who does the menial tasks, the one who sets up the tables for a church event. I think of terms we use, such as “servant-leadership”, and “he has a servant’s heart”, and how those terms generally refer to “doing”. I have even said “I am a servant of Christ” myself, usually under my breath while I am doing something no one else would volunteer for. And in my best martyr’s voice.

In the Greek language, there are various words used for our one word “servant”, and they have different meanings and shades of meaning. To fit my definition above (minus the martyr’s voice), the word James would probably have had to use is ‘diakonos’:

~ one who executes the commands of another, especially of a master ~ the servant of a king ~ a deacon, one who, by virtue of the office assigned to him by the church, cares for the poor and has charge of and distributes the money collected for their use ~ a waiter, one who serves food and drink.

But the word he actually used to identify himself is “doulos”, or “bondservant”:

~ slave ~ one who gives himself wholly to another’s will ~ one who is devoted to another to the disregard of one’s own interests ~ those who’s service is used by Christ in extending and advancing His cause among men  ~ all who obey God’s commands; His true worshippers

Big difference. James identified himself not as someone who did things for God, but as someone who had willingly enslaved and bound himself to God. He was completely and utterly devoted to God and to Jesus, laying down his own will and interests. A bondservant is one who is completely given over to the one he serves. It is a position that expresses the absolute highest devotion.

It is no small thing to be a doulos of Christ. It is not something we can use to guilt convince people to volunteer to do more in the church.

dig deepThis kind of study and digging fascinates me, and I could literally spend hours and hours doing it. But my desire to go deeper, and to know the heart of God more, won’t be satisfied by a word study, unless it results in revelation from the Holy Spirit. It was when I was reading my study notes about the life of James that I got the revelation that took me deeper.

James was martyred in 62 A.D.  Not because he was a diakonos, but because he was a doulos. 

James, Paul, Peter, and Jude all identified themselves as bondservants (doulos) of Christ. In their letters to the churches, they give a very vivid picture of what the life, and the faith, of a bondservant looks like. They were obedient, crucified lives. These men weren’t spiritual super heros. They were filled with the Spirit of God, but they were mortal men who had made a choice, a decision to live life, all of life, for God and for the cause of Christ.

Everyone of them were killed for that decision.

How do I want to be identified? diakonos, or doulos? One can make me feel like a martyr, the other, given the right place and time, could actually make me one.

I probably should have gone to the Song of Songs. James wasn’t good for my headache.

hope in the end

I don’t know why it happened. I don’t know how evil got into a young man’s heart and mind to convince him to go to an elementary school and open fire on children.

Woman-mourning-cryI don’t know how parents cope with a loss that must feel like a building fell on them, burying them in grief.

I don’t know how a community rises from the ashes of tragedy to trust humanity again.

All around me were the voices of others who were praying and grieving, reminded again that evil has no heart for the most innocent among us. I read the flurry of opinions as to how this happened, why it happened and what we need to do to make sure it doesn’t happen again. None of it changed the “I don’t know” in my heart.

Last night, I needed hope for my bruised heart. Hope in the midst of fear and the knowledge that darkness is all around, hanging heavy over us, and that the heart of darkness is evil indeed. So I turned myself to God, who gave me a one word answer to all my questions, and to my cry for hope.

Jesus.

Jesus, the light that God sent into darkness to show us the way out.

Jesus, bleeding and dying, heavy with the sins of man.

Jesus, leaving the tomb victorious over the death that could in no way hold Him.

Jesus, dwelling in me with grace and power to keep my own heart from succumbing to the evil that longs to have it.

Apart from Him, there is no hope. Without Jesus, despair would be all we have. Without Jesus, evil would be victorious and would have us all.

Pages turn, and hope rushes up to meet me.

light in the dark“In Him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

Light came and showed the way out of darkness. Light, dwelling in me, going wherever I am willing to go. To show the way out.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

The power of God’s comfort will be greater than the power of our mourning. Satan cannot cause us to mourn so deeply that God cannot meet us with far greater comfort.

And then I flip the pages all the way back. Because sometimes the darkness lays so heavy, that we need to hear the end again.

“When the thousand years are over, Satan will be released from his prison  and will go out to deceive the nations in the four corners of the earth—Gog and Magog—and to gather them for battle. In number they are like the sand on the seashore. They marched across the breadth of the earth and surrounded the camp of God’s people, the city he loves. But fire came down from heaven and devoured them. And the devil, who deceived them, was thrown into the lake of burning sulfur,where the beast and the false prophet had been thrown. They will be tormented day and night for ever and ever.”

“He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”

“He who testifies to these things says, ‘Yes, I am coming soon.’ Amen. Come, Lord Jesus. The grace of the Lord Jesus be with God’s people. Amen.”

Yes, sometimes, when our hearts are bruised and grief-stricken by the breath of evil, when “I don’t know” is all we can say with any honesty, we just need to hear the ending again.

Because there is hope in the end, there is hope today.

the-end-jesus-wins-2

John 1:4; Matthew 5:4; Revelation 20:7-10; Revelation 21:5; Revelation 22:20-21

missing joy full

All it takes is a few words. Just a few, skimmed over and paid little attention. And then one day, those few words come off the page dressed in neon lights, making my head tilt sideways.

Open-Bible-500x215“The seventy-two returned with joy and said, “Lord, even the demons submit to us in your name.”  He replied, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you.  However, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.’

 At that time Jesus, full of joy through the Holy Spirit, said, “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.” – Luke 10:17-21

Today I saw words I had been missing,

“The seventy-two returned with joy”

and something in me ached. It ached because I realized that I can’t remember the last time I had returned with joy from discovering His power in ministry. And I think it ached because I hadn’t realized that I missed it, this joy.

“Jesus, full of joy…”

He wasn’t disappointed in them because they missed the point. Instead, He traded stories with them. They saw demons submit to them, He saw Satan fall from heaven.

They didn’t return all excited only to get a rebuke. He didn’t burst their bubble of excitement, but He did remind them that there was something far better than demons in submission, something really worth celebrating. Don’t settle for rejoicing over demons. Not when your name is in the book of life.

He wasn’t against them, shaking His head because they had it all wrong. He was

Full. Of. Joy.

Somehow, I missed that.

It doesn’t really matter to me right now why He was joy full. Just the picture of Jesus, smiling, laughing (because people full of joy do those things) with His disciples…that picture makes my heart happy. Joy full, even. And I’ve missed that.

Here is what I didn’t miss. Not today…

“…through the Holy Spirit…”

I won’t get joy full by trying harder. It can’t be worked up, or manufactured.

Joy won’t come from things, from circumstances, or from other people.

In my search to know more of the Holy Spirit, I am taking note…

He brings

Joy

Holy Spirit, who are You?

In my quest to go deeper, to know the heart of God more, it was inevitable that I would find my way here. Because after almost 24 years of relationship, I still find the Holy Spirit to be a mystery. I’ve been taught much, heard much, and have even sensed His presence many times, and I still feel as though I need to stick out my hand, introduce myself and ask Him that question.

Just who are You, really?

I am filled with the urge to search, and I know of only one place to search for God; only one place that I know for sure He will be found.  And I remember that “In the beginning“, the Spirit of God was there, so that is where I turn. And I find the first glimpse of the Holy Spirit.

“Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep,and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” {Genesis 1:2}

Hovering. Rachaph is the Hebrew word. It means to brood, like a mother bird broods over her young.

It also means “to cherish”.

The exact same word is used in Deuteronomy 32:11, describing God’s care for Israel ~

“like an eagle that stirs up its nest
    and hovers over its young,
that spreads its wings to catch them
    and carries them on its pinions.”

He cherishes.

And I am reminded ~

“And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us.” {Romans 5:5}

I sat back and closed my bible, closed my notebook and put down my pen. And then I chose to believe what I had found.

The Holy Spirit of God is not just a vaporous mystery. He’s not just power and strength, worker of signs and wonders, and Giver of gifts.

Suddenly the fact that I am indwelt by the Holy Spirit looks different to me.

“In the beginning…”  became “Here is the first thing I want to tell you about Myself. You are cherished by Me.”

Holy Spirit of God…

It’s so nice to meet You.