Category Archives: Salvation/Gospel

Our Tree of Life: Suffering and Redemption

It was late. I needed to sleep but couldn’t get my brain to agree with my body. It’s become that thing that I do. Go to bed and not sleep. Lately, my brain’s aversion to sleep has been leading me to the secret place and middle of the night sessions with the Holy Spirit. This night was that kind of night.

Suddenly, a picture showed up in my mind. A tree. Large, lush, very green, and full of fruit. It was the tree of Life in the Garden of Eden.

And then I saw the cross and Jesus hanging on it. And suddenly, scriptures came across the screen of my mind.

“Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” – John 6:53

“Christ has redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, because it is written: Everyone who is hung on a tree is cursed.” – Galatians 3:13

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” – John 14:6

 “…that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and may share His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.” – Philippians 3:10-11

“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” – Galatians 2:20

And these thoughts pole vaulted into my brain –

The cross is now our tree of life, and Jesus is the fruit of that tree.

We no longer have access to that original tree of life. The one that came without suffering. The one that required no death.

Ours is a different tree.

We must be reminded of this tree and what it means, beyond “Jesus died for my sins”. We must take of the fruit of this tree in order to know life. We must partake of what Jesus suffered so that we too can obtain His resurrection.

For most of us, our suffering looks different than His. None of the people in my immediate circle, or in any of the circles near me, are being killed for the gospel. But there is certainly that suffering taking place in other parts of the world, and for those ones I pray Godspeed and mercy.

But here, in my world, there are other sufferings, as the death to our flesh is called for on a daily basis. A laying down of our own will in order to fulfill the will of the Father. A death to dreams and wants and our 5-year plan for our lives. The tearing down of idols that seems unending as the light continues to expose what has been hidden in us. A giving of ourselves when we would rather keep, remaining when we would rather leave, being emptied of our own selves so that we can be continually filled with Spirit of God.

Letting mercy triumph over judgment in our own hearts toward those around us. Giving grace that hasn’t been earned. Showing compassion, not just for the least of these, but for those who are against us. Speaking mercy instead of condemnation. Dropping stones that feel like justice in our hands.

Please tell me you’re getting this, because I can go on all day.

The cross is not just the place Jesus died a long, long time ago. It is where we die every single day. It is our tree of life.

And I have said all of that, to say this:

Oh, what a God! He looked through time and knew that we would go astray. Knew we would leave Him and claim our lives as our own. So He made a way before we even knew we needed one.

When He set flaming swords in front of the tree of life in the Garden of Eden, He knew there would be another tree, in the fullness of time, and it would bring eternal life to all who would partake of its fruit.

To taste the suffering of the cross is to taste the redemption of the tree of life.

I find it all a little mind-blowing.

beautiful words

“You will be with child and give birth to a son…“.

Suddenly, life was different than she thought it would be. Mary was blessed, highly favored, a virgin planning to be married, and live the life of a carpenter’s wife. She may have been dreaming of her wedding, perhaps even nervous about her wedding night. And in one moment, her small story gave way to a bigger story, as what had been possible gave way to what was impossible.

A virgin would give birth to God.

And from her came a most beautiful sound. “I am the Lord’s servant…May it be to me as you have said.”

doulos( The word is doulē – the feminine form of doulos.)

It is the sound of trust, of devotion, of one who does not count her life as her own. The sound of one who does not grip her own story, with all of its plans, hopes, and dreams. One who is willing to let her life bring forth God’s glory, no matter the cost.

It is the core of our Christianity, is it not? This impossible birthing of God from the womb of a virgin. Those of us who are followers of Christ do not question the truth of Mary’s story. What others celebrate once a year, we hold in our hearts every day.

Mary, blessed and favored by God. Chosen to carry Christ.

“To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.”

We too are blessed, having been chosen to carry Christ in us. The living God, dwelling in the hearts of those who follow.

So why is it so hard for us, this doulos life?

Christ is in us. God is for us. What do we lack?

What keeps us gripping our own story, our own plans, with our arms wrapped around our cisterns that do not hold water?

Christ is in us and God is for us. What should we fear?

That life will not go as we had planned? That we will not be in control? That our small story is all we have and if we lose that what is left? Are we afraid that what God has said is really true…that are lives are no longer ours to have and to hold?

I pray for us. I pray for me. I pray that by the power of Christ in us and God for us, we will stop. Stop gripping and fearing and chasing down what is possible.

This Christmas we will once again declare our faith in the impossible. Let us not stop there.

Let us turn, with our hands emptied of our own story, and speak beautiful words to God.

“I am Your doulos…may it be to me as You have said.”

 May our lives birth glory as we lay them down.

Luke 1:31; Luke 1:38; Colossians 1:27; Romans 8:31;

blood is in the air

Matthew 27

I stood at a distance with the other women, watching Jesus die. The smell of blood is in the air. Passover lambs being slaughtered and the Lamb of God dying. The law being kept in the shadow of grace flowing from the veins of God.

Blood is in the air and it means something to everyone.

Pilate, you washed your hands of the guilt of killing the innocent. How ironic that the very blood you washed your hands of was the only thing that could have washed away your guilt.

Pharisee, you killed the Lamb of God and then sacrificed your own lamb. You thought that the death of the One secured your prideful position before men, and the death of the other secured your humble position before God. How ironic, Pharisee, that the opposite was true.

Disciples, you left everything to follow, to be with Him. He was Messiah and His coming gave you hope and now He has died and your hope along with Him. Do you see the irony now, disciples? He left everything to be with you and your only hope is in His death.

Blood is in the air and isn’t it ironic? We wash our hands and kill a lamb and find hope in what we can see and touch. Our hands look clean but we ignore our hearts and we make our sacrifice while refusing His. We put our trust in what we see but we are blind.

I watch the rich man put His body in a tomb. Dead. Buried. Those who hated Him sighed relief, those who loved Him wept grief. The lambs were dead and the Lamb was buried. Sins had been taken and punishment given. Pilate sealed the tomb and posted guards and now the Pharisees could rest easy. While Mary weeps at the grave of the One she loves.

Her heart breaks in despair over the same death that makes mine beat with joy. Mary, don’t you know? What good is forgiveness if the grave keeps the Forgiver? Or the forgiven? Stay here, Mary. Watch with me. Because I know that today, blood is in the air.

But soon, that stone will roll out of His way.

And then we will sing…

He took my mourning and turned it into dancing;

He took my weeping and turned it into laughing;

He took my mourning and turned it into dancing;

He took my sadness and turned it into joy!

taking the cup

Matthew 26:36-46   Mark 14:32-42   Luke 22:39-46

They were gone now, and the garden was quiet. Jesus had been arrested, His disciples scattered. As for me, I am compelled to remain here, allowing what I had seen and heard to seep into deep places.

His words still hang in the air among the trees…“My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from Me. Yet not as I will, but as You will.”  

“…not as I will, but as You will.”  As I watched Him, the words echo familiar to me. They have flowed easily from me over the years. “Not my will, but Yours be done!” “I just want God’s will for my life.” “Lord, have Your way!” I see Him there, on the ground and I hear my voice speaking out those words. And I see Him there, on the ground sweating blood and I hear my voice. And somewhere inside of me something is tearing. Something hurts. Something that was hidden in darkness is backing away from the light coming in…but it’s too late.

“The words come easy, but there is no battle being waged for them. You say the words, but when your flesh resists you surrender to defeat. You say the words, because they are part of the Christian vocabulary of magic words spoken because they are the ‘right’ thing to say. You say the words, because you believe that My will looks like your will. You say the words. You want My will but you wants yours too. You say the words and then let the cup pass.”

I followed Him here, and He exposed my heart.

in the dirtEverything in me wants to lay on the ground where He had been, to press my cheek into the dirt still wet with His tears and sweat turned to blood. I want to capture it all, this war between flesh and Spirit, and hold it tightly somewhere inside of me. Because I want it to change me.

I listened as He asked for the last time…”if it is possible, may this cup be taken from Me…”. I heard no response. Maybe He did. Maybe His Father spoke words of comfort and strength to Him. Maybe He heard nothing because sometimes the silence of God says everything. Either way, it was done. He took the cup and set His face toward Golgotha. Death for Life. Victory was secured.

I followed Him here and I learned. “Not as I will but as You will” are the words of battle. Jesus didn’t enter Gethsemane and surrender His will so that I wouldn’t have to. He did it so that I could. He overcame so that I could overcome.

Death for life. Not a drink to be sipped. It is a cup to be taken hold of with both hands and swallowed down. It is hard. Agony. Weeping and falling face to the earth in surrender.

It is the prelude to victory.


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.

beautiful feet

news I live in a small town in the midwest. Not much of what is happening in the world seems to affect life here, except when I fill my gas tank, or try to find a job. But thanks to the brilliant minds of technology, I am able to open my laptop and with one or two clicks, global life is right in front of me. And with those few clicks, all of the pain that lives “over there” somewhere invades my quiet home and life. Suddenly the issues I have been focused on appear rather petty. Part of me sits up a little straighter as I join the rest of the grownups, now armed with a clue of what’s going on in the world. The other part of me wants to head right back to the kiddie table and just be petty. But it’s hard to un-know something.

So now I know. There are wars and rumors of wars; natural disasters crippling entire nations; kingdoms being divided against themselves. The discussions at the grownup table center around tragedy in Japan, radiation risks, crashing stock markets, and a place called Libya and the madman of power there. Words like Tunisia, Egypt, Darfur, genocide, reactors and meltdowns all fly past me as my brain searches frantically for Tunisia on the map in my head. Then someone mentions the name Rob Bell and the whole table erupts. And I glance longingly at the kiddie table.

They say knowledge is power. As of yesterday, I didn’t feel powerful. I felt overwhelmed and off balance. I wasn’t fearful, I just had a sudden sense that things are moving a lot faster than I thought they were. People are dying, but I have to figure out what to make for dinner. I didn’t know what to do about either one.

And then this morning, the Word of God began to speak.

From one page, one chapter, one verse to another I was reminded that He alone is God, creator of heaven and earth, sovereign ruler over all time and events, and the final authority over life and death. He laid the foundations of the earth we spin on, hung the stars and tells the ocean where to stop. Only by His consent does man move and breathe and have his being. Dominion is firmly His, and He rules over all nations.

He is my God. And this is His heart ~

“For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16

Many believe that the events we are watching in the world are described in Matthew 24. If this is true, then the world has much more to fear than earthquakes and radiation. But for those who know Him, those who have called upon the Name of Jesus, there is nothing to fear…there is just much to say. Because what we know far exceeds the importance of leaking radiation, falling stock markets, and kings who have been raised up and taken down. What we know outweighs the devastation the world is watching and living in.

Enter the reason for the strange title of this post.

“…for, ‘Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.’ How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!'” Romans 10:10-15

I know little about nuclear reactors or why it’s bad if they have a meltdown. I would be hard pressed to find Tunisia on a map, or tell you the name of Egypt’s ruler and why they don’t like him. I spend a lot of time confused when I sit at the grownup table.

standfirmBut here, in my quiet town in the midwest, I know what much of the world does not. So Lord, in the midst of pain and death, the shaking of the earth and the fear that has come with it, in all of the chaos and confusion…make my feet beautiful.