Jesus – Page 19 – Karla Jo Wasion

Matthew—Your Father

Matthew 6:1-18

At first glance, that mountainside sermon is exactly what so many expect of God. A list of do’s and do not’s. But I’ve sat here listening on repeat for days, hearing the same phrase over and over.

your Father. Ten times in eighteen verses He uses these words (once He says our Father, but still). Ten times He looks at me and says your Father.

It is said that when scripture repeats something three times, it is emphasizing the importance of something…a place, a person, a theme. It is basically saying, pay attention, this is crucial.

Ten times in eighteen verses Jesus affirms my identity as a daughter of heaven.

I’ve been sitting on this one thing and counting the repeats and feeling the weight of pay attention, this is crucial.

I have called Him Father for years. But Father is just one of many identities I have called Him, depending on my circumstance. For instance, if you were to intrude on my most personal moments with Him lately, you would hear me crying out to my Healer. Not all that long ago He was my Deliverer. On a regular basis He is my Provider. The list goes on and the list is not wrong it’s just that He doesn’t want to be on a list.

Knowing God by a list of the things He can do for me is not the relationship He fought to the death to have with me.

The list separates what God does from the reason He does them.

[ Simplistic example: When my kids got hungry, they didn’t call out for the food provider. When they got hurt they didn’t run to the owie healer. It was always Mom. I fed them, helped their hurts, and gave them what they needed because I was their mom, and they knew that, at least on some level.]

And finally, something in me settles as revelation seeps in like molasses.

What He does cannot be separated from the reason He does them because the reason He does them is who He is.

your Father.

God is not insisting that I know and believe and declare that He is my Healer.

your Father.

Or that I have memorized and can recite and are standing on all of the verses that prove He is my Healer.

your Father.

Or that I make sure to let Him know that my hope is not in doctors, lest He think I am trusting in some other healer besides Him.

your Father.

or any of the other things that we do and have others do in our attempt to get Him to do what we need Him to do.

your Father.

Molasses is slow, but eventually it gets where it’s going.

His Father-heart is not in question. Jesus, with His ten times in eighteen verses, has made it a much more personal question.

Do I have the heart of a daughter?

Or is it still the heart of an orphan? A beggar. A tap dancer performer scripture-reciter trying to get the attention of the Healer Provider Deliverer?

Is my heart still so starved that it clamors for what He does more than for who He is?

And this one. So hard to answer. This is the pay attention. This is the crucial. I know this is why Jesus looked at me when He said it ten times.

Will I trust my Father even if Healer is nowhere to be found?

But still, revelation molasses just keeps seeping in until it finds the place it has been after from the beginning of the ten times in eighteen verses.

Is your Father enough?

And I remember that time He asked if His love was enough. It wasn’t a theological debate question, it was simple. Yes, or no. Designed not to be cruel or accusatory, but to force my heart into a life changing decision. And it was. It was life changing to choose to let His love be enough for me. It stopped my fighting and scratching for any other love. It brought rest to my soul. His love became the prize, not the consolation.

close up of a beautiful young woman looking upwards

So in the dark hours of the night, my heart again made a choice.

You are my Father and I am Your daughter.

Yes, it is enough.

Matthew—Blessed is hard, not lucky

Matthew 5:1-11

His words on that mountain unsettle me. I say I’m so blessed to have this [fill in the blank]. Family. Job. House. Hair. Brownie. Whatever. But a few minutes of that mountainside sermon, and I realize that what I really mean is I am one lucky girl. So fortunate to have the life I have. It takes some digging to discover that blessed goes a whole lot deeper and is a whole lot harder than lucky.

Luck and fortune have nothing to do with the blessing of God.

μακάριος, or makarios, is the word for blessed.

[“the state of one who has become a partaker of God; to experience the fullness of God. It refers to the believer in Christ who is satisfied and secure in the midst of life’s hardships because of the indwelling fullness of the Spirit.”*]

Being blessed has nothing to do with my relationship with this earthly life and everything to do with my relationship with God.

And it’s a slow process to realize that everything is about God. Just everything.

Blessed begins at the cross where I stand spiritually impoverished before the tree where hangs the very fullness of God. And it continues through to my persecution. In between are the steps to becoming. The walk that leads to deeper places in God and to a greater partaking of His character.

As I step into mourning my sin instead of hiding it, and as I mourn others’ sin instead of throwing the first stone, I am blessed.

As I stop resisting God and begin to trust Him, asserting myself and my interests less and submitting myself wholly to Him who is in control of everything, I am blessed.

When I stop hungering for the things of this world, the things that soothe my flesh, and begin to long for what pleases God, to desire His will above anything else, I am blessed.

As I learn that compassion must be active and not passive, that being merciful means I must actually act upon my pity and do something about the needs of others instead of just talking about it, I am blessed.

When I live with my heart open before God and not hidden, allowing Him to cleanse it, not shrinking back, not withholding any part of my heart from His purifying fire, I am blessed.

When I become active in the reconciliation and restoration of others to God, wading into the pain and brokenness of the world around me to actually demonstrate the love and goodness of Jesus, going into the war for people’s souls rather than passively avoiding it, I am blessed.

And when I am shunned, driven away, harassed, denied and threatened not because of who I am, but because of who He is, I am in good company and I am blessed.

Blessed is not lucky, it is hard. It is dying. It is emptying. It is denying. It is going instead of staying, loving instead of hating, lifting up, not pushing down. It is living, not just talking. It is carrying a cross, not wearing one.

Blessed is becoming more like Him and less like me.

*"Greek Thoughts" by Bill Klein, posted at StudyLight.org.

church huddle

huddle-up Can we just huddle up for a moment, Church? You, me and Jesus…can we make a plan, get our story straight? Because it’s about to become very armageddon-ish out there, and I think we just need to set the ground rules, do some pinky swearin’, re-up on who we are, you know? Because it’s goin’ down tomorrow, and we can be sure of one thing — emotions will be running high on both ends of the feeling stick. So we’ve got one day to make a decision.

As the royal priesthood of God, those who have been entrusted with the gospel, with the very message of Christ, those who are called to walk in love, in mercy, in kindness, and in compassion. As children of the unmoving, unchanging, all-knowing, all-powerful, ever-present King of kings — how will we respond?

If we don’t know how we’re going to handle it if one candidate wins instead of the other, then I’m thinking we need to introduce our faces to the carpet and let them meet together until we reach a decision. We have the mandate to walk in the Spirit but you and I both know the temptation to walk in flesh will be oh so strong. We are human, and we’re about to have some very human emotions, so we need to figure out what we’re going to do.

We need to decide today who we’re going to be tomorrow.

So, since I’m the one with the talking stick at the moment, here I go.

mean-kids No name calling. No accusations of self-righteousness, idiocy, traitor and the like. I know, it shouldn’t even need to be said, but it does. Because I’ve been on the playground too and I’ve heard it. From us. Let’s just go ahead and decide now not to be the mean kids.

No fear mongering. No throwing our hands up and saying all is lost. We are not chicken littles and the sky is not falling. We are the Church, and God is in charge of the sky staying where it is. Or not.

No gloating. If the person you voted for wins, you will not act like you parted the sea and saved our country. You did not. At best, you obeyed God in the voting booth. Any and all glory for anything whatsoever always belongs to God. Amen?

No political party blaming. That’s right. We don’t do that because that is beneath who we are. We will not attempt to accuse or blame people who have a different political persuasion than us that they have just ended the world as we know it. We will not throw dramatic hissy fits. Or hissy fits in general. It’s unattractive.

We will not engage in senseless arguments that end up pushing others away as we try to make ourselves feel better, validated, vindicated or better than, letting our flesh have a dance party all over the place. Seriously. No one wants to see that.

We will, as God’s chosen ones, holy and loved, put on heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Because this is what we do, this is how we live. This is who we are.

We will be at peace because we were called to peace.

We will dwell on whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable.

We will maintain our stance, not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the world powers of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavens.

That’s right. Whoever wins the battle for the White House, we are still at war. But we do not fight on the enemy’s terms. While he would have us drawing blood from one another, leaving him unscathed and uninterrupted, we are the Church and we. don’t. play. like. that.

We will take our fight to the battlefield on which we are most equipped for victory. As those who are called by His name, we will humble ourselves and pray and seek His face and turn from our wicked ways. Because we know, don’t we Church? We know His promise.

…then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.

We will take up our cross and deny ourselves. We will love the Lord our God with all our heart and with all our soul and with all our mind, and we will love others as ourselves. We will not return evil for evil, but will overcome evil with good. We will speak the truth in love, not shout it in anger. We will do this in our own lives, in our homes, in our cities, and in our country. Because that is how the Church does war. That is how we refuse the enemy’s attempts to drag us through the mud during an election.

Whatever happens, Church, we don’t break rank. We do not behave as people we are not. No matter what, we will conduct ourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ. Yes? Let me hear you, Church.

Good huddle everyone. You are awesome and I know that, by the power and grace of God, we can do this!

eph-3-20

Chloe

Dear Chloe,

Someday, you will read about these events, but can I just give you my account of what took place? You will read about it in far more historical detail, I’m sure, but these are my observations, for the record.

So it came to pass that it was time for a new president. To be honest, it felt like our nation was coming apart at the seams. Depending on which side you took, we were either spiraling into the depths of complete moral decay, or we were on the brink of change that would make us better than ever. But there is no denying that we were not a united nation, by any stretch of the imagination. And since this is my accounting, I will just say that it felt like we were a country on the verge of imploding, and I knew better than to hope that a new president would change that regardless of who they were or what party they represented. Chloe, never put your hope in a president, a political party, or any other world system. Your hope will only be unshakable when it rests firmly on God, who is never, ever shaken.

Anyway, it was time for a changing of the guard, and the race was on. First, who would run? The blue party held no surprise, nor was it even a contest. But the red party, oh my. Out of the pack of twelve shiny choices, emerged the “least likely to ever be nominated for President”. And that’s when everything started shaking, Chloe. That’s when this race for the White House went from an event in history to a historical event.

Democrats were horrified then humored, confident that this thing was now in the bag. Republicans seemed to be somewhat dumbfounded in a ‘what just happened?‘ kind of way, but finally said ‘we meant to do that‘ to the watching world, and the ~~dogfight~~ race was on.

Oh, Chloe, this was a grievous, vicious time, the likes of which I personally had not witnessed in my lifetime. From both sides, the character assassinations were in big, bold headlining script, while the issues were sent to the small print area. And the country took their cues and jumped in, holding their own excavations, and the deeper they dug, the more sins they found. But that isn’t the saddest part. The world’s actions are not what grieved me so deeply.

It’s the Church, Chloe. It’s how we responded that broke my heart. It’s the picture of the people of God giving way to headlines, to all of the ‘what if’s’. Giving way to fear. Frantically turning to human reasoning, to our own wisdom. It’s the sound of brothers and sisters name calling and belittling one another. Pointing fingers. Using words like “what kind of Christian…” which is a polite way of calling into question someone’s sincere faith in Jesus. Judgment and anger and fear were all over the face of the Bride, Chloe, and that frightened me far more than either candidate did.

And I just kept thinking, what if this election isn’t really about either of the candidates? What if God is doing something that seems inconceivable to us? What if God has not entrusted the nations to humanity, but has retained His sovereignty, His right to outvote us? What if we, His Church, asked Him who to vote for, and then simply obeyed, regardless of what we thought about His choice?

What if His ways really are higher than ours? What if His thoughts aren’t our thoughts at all?

And this…both sobering and comforting…what if God isn’t using these times and these events to change a nation, but to change the Church so that the nation can change? What if we are what this election is all about?

What if judgment really does start in the house of God?

Here’s what I want to leave you with, Chloe. Hope. Hope and even joy. Because we are the Church. His chosen vessel to light up the world. His beloved to whom He is forever committed. His faithfulness is for us. We are His people and we have been lavished with His love and His grace, set apart for Him, to be holy and blameless in His sight. We are cared for, provided for and fought for by our mighty God and loving Father. We are His hands and feet, His ambassadors to a dying world. We know Him and are known by Him. We are the joy set before Him as He gave His life on the cross. We are His body, and we have been given everything we need for life and godliness (regardless of who is president). We have every reason to hope, to rejoice, to trust, because we belong to and serve the Creator and Ruler of every nation, including this one. We, you, have nothing to fear.

Chloe, you will live with the future fallout of this election, no matter which way it goes. But know this, God never let go. He never turned away and left us to our own devices, our own ability to choose a leader. He is far too faithful for that. The person who became the 45th president was by God’s choosing. If I don’t believe that, then I cannot believe that He is, as He claims, the sovereign ruler of the nations. But the most important lesson I hope you take from this time in history is this…

The throne of God is in Heaven, not the White House. And He will never give it up.

…and he said, “O LORD, the God of our fathers, are You not God in the heavens? And are You not ruler over all the kingdoms of the nations? Power and might are in Your hand so that no one can stand against You.

~ 2Chronicles 20:6

*Chloe is my imaginary friend from the future. It happens.

this uterus and the hard parts of the story

On Friday, September 30th I had some tests done, including a biopsy. On October 5th I was told I had complex endometrial hypoplasia, which is a thickening of the uterine wall. The complex part means it is abnormal and “suspicious” of cancer, even though the biopsy did not show any cancer cells. So, on October 25th I will meet with an oncologist, who is likely to highly recommend a hysterectomy. So be it. Goodbye, uterus.

So I’ve been processing all the thoughts and all the feels. At first, fear hit and made it hard to breathe. I thought of the people I know who have succumbed to cancer in the last year, including my older sister. But since then, I’ve talked to a couple of other women, including my younger sister, who had this complex endometrial hypoplasia and are fine. No cancer. So my fear has subsided considerably. But through all of the processing, talking and crying to God, I’ve learned a few new things…

okay

I can be afraid and still trust God. At first, I felt ashamed of being scared of this thing. My faith should be stronger than this, what will people think if they see fear in me, what kind of witness would that be, I need to be an example. But trying not to be afraid didn’t make me less afraid, it just kept my mind focused on the fear instead of on God. So I went to my favorite place in scripture, the Psalms, and discovered that often, David was afraid while he trusted God.

“Be gracious to me, Lord, for I am weak; heal me, Lord, for my bones are shaking; my whole being is shaken with terror…Turn, Lord! Rescue me; save me because of Your faithful love.” – Psalm 6:2-4

“How long will I store up anxious concerns within me, agony in my mind every day?…But I have trusted in Your faithful love; my heart will rejoice in Your deliverance.” Psalm 13:2,5

God, not fear, was always David’s final answer to his circumstances. Being afraid doesn’t mean fear gets to occupy the biggest place in my heart. It means that when I am afraid, I turn to the One I trust the most and I remember Him. I remember that Jesus holds my days, every single one.

When I am afraid, I put my trust in You. – Psalm 56:3

created-for-his-glory

“Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth— everyone who is called by My name, whom I created for My glory, whom I formed and made.” Isaiah 43:6-7

This has to be my bottom line, otherwise, my bottom line will be me, and that never turns out well. But if I allow this to be more about God than it is about me, my perspective shifts and I stop projecting this thing out to the worst possible outcome. Instead, I whisper to God, and pray that my whole heart believes it…“whatever this is, whatever comes, my life is Yours and You get to decide how You will be glorified through it.” The greatest desire of my heart right now is that whatever comes, God will be seen for who He is in the midst of it.

{Honesty check:} Actually, that’s not quite true. My greatest desire is that my uterus would stop being suspicious, and all of this would magically go away. Barring that, then by all means…let God be seen and may great be His glory.

change

Whether this turns out to be a simple deal or the worst case scenario, one thing is absolutely certain.

It will change me, but it will not change God.

God will remain exactly who He was before October 5th. Before my uterus became such a big deal. He remains trustworthy and good. He will do what is right, what is good, what pleases Him. His love for me has not wavered, His plans for me have not been derailed. Fear will try to tell me otherwise, but I have determined in advance where I will stand. My legs may shake, but I will stand on the unchanging goodness of God.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.“ James 1:17

The problem with God speaking truth to us is that He doesn’t speak it to just make us feel good.

Truth must be lived out if it’s going to change us.

This life is my journey to walk out, but it is not my story to write. If it were, I would write out all the hard parts, the painful parts, the parts that scare me. But those are the very parts that bring me to the place of surrender, that force me to choose faith again and again, that bring me back to the reality that I am not in control, but I belong to the One who is. As difficult as it is to walk in those places, I have become convinced that He casts His shadow deep and wide over the hardest parts of our story.

How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!
People take refuge in the shadow of your wings. (Ps. 36:7)

on the other side of parenting and the rhythm of peace

maegan young Codi little I love my children. Love being their mom. I just wish I had listened when my own mother kept telling me how quickly the time would fly. I wish I had understood that here, on the other side of mothering, I would want every memory I could get.

It seems our days were made up of hurry up, get up, sit up, stop that, come here, go to your room, don’t jump on that, stop pulling on that, it’s not a toy (boys!). Put that down, put that away, clean that up, you can’t wear that. Or that. Don’t roll your eyes at me, why are you bleeding, stop shooting that thing in the house. You drank what?? Wake up, get up, hurry up or we’ll be late.

Those days seemed endless but they weren’t and one day I found myself on the other side of parenting trying not to wish I could go back. Trying not to wonder how much I missed while I was rushing to get on with the next thing. Wondering why I was ever in a hurry.

I wish I had known that the place I was in such a hurry to get to would make me miss the place I had been.

I’m no longer wishing for the next place. I now know that time goes much faster than we ever thought and that it’s the little things that bring the most joy, that what we end up regretting the most is how much we hurried through it all and how much we missed.

lucy-fridge These babies will grow up soon enough. For now, it’s good to sit on the floor and play, rock for as long as they need it, let them get dirty and make a mess and then watch them sleep while I whisper thank You, God. And when they leave my house to go back home, I can look around at the mess and smile, because I have the memory of how it got messy. The bottles of water all over my kitchen floor are from an intense exploration of the inside of my refrigerator. The basket of toys dumped all over the living room floor is because real fun requires silly things like a little container of tic-tacs, a belt, a rag, a tube of diaper cream and a toy telephone. The papers lying everywhere are there because it’s delightful to stand up at the coffee table and sweep everything to the floor.

I’m in no hurry to clean it all up. I savor the mess because I savor the memory of how it got there. It is the rhythm of peace that would have made life easier on the front side of parenting. That peace would have helped me savor more and worry less about what needed to get done.

Before the grandbabies came, the other side of parenting was so bittersweet. I had a hard time closing that chapter of my life. But now, God has given me a new chapter and I want to hang on every word written in it. I am no longer longing for the past because what is here now is so very sweet. (I also realize that raising littles full-time is hard, hard work and I really just don’t want to work that hard again.) I pray for the young moms in my life because I know it’s taking everything you’ve got and then some to do it well. So I pray for strength, for grace, and for unhurried moments to enjoy the wonder of it all.

Being older has, thankfully, slowed me down. Not just physically (I would be no challenge to anything chasing me), but in every way, including my walk with Jesus.

I am finding that a frantic, get it all done pace of life was mostly my offering to Him, not His to me.

In those early days, I wanted to get to the next place with Him. I wanted Him to hurry and fix what was broken, heal what was hurt, so that we could move on to the next thing, the next part of the plan for my life. But Jesus has never been in a rush. His is a rhythm of peace. He knows that the time will go by quick enough, and there is so much to miss by hurrying it along.

Wisdom is priceless, but often hard-earned. And wisdom is telling me to slow down, savor the journey, sit at His feet more. Hang on His every word. Enjoy His rhythm of peace and the moments that come and then are gone.

Be in no hurry.

Ellie.Lucy.bathtime

water and wine

The Gospel of John. Second Chapter.

“On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee…When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no more wine.”

So He took water and made it wine and the miracle is only noticed by a few. And this story is so familiar I want to just move on, keep reading. But I am drawn back to the story of water and wine and I discover there are depths here that I have never seen.

“In the ancient Near East, with its scarcity of water, wine was a necessity rather than a luxury, so it came to symbolize sustenance and life. Due to its close relationship to the ongoing life of the community, in association with grain and oil, wine is also representative of the covenant blessings God promised to Israel for obedience, and which He would withhold for disobedience. Finally, wine also represents joy, celebration, and festivity, expressing the abundant blessings of God.” – Martin G. Collins, Forerunner Commentary (emphasis mine)

His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”

All at once I am flush with conviction because those words go into my soul, you know? Into my doubtful, my fearful places, into my rebellious places. Into the place where I’ve been putting off what I know He wants me to do. So the words of a mother spoken to her son become the words of a Father spoken to His daughter.

Do whatever He tells you

fill the jar to the brim

offer your loaves and fishes

take up your mat and walk

cast your net to the other side

step out of the boat

be still go fast and pray give

forgive love believe

Trust Me.

Do whatever He tells you.

I know. It sounds simple. Seems silly that it even needs to be said. But reality? We sit in our place of ‘no more wine’ and will not get up and do whatever He tells us to do. We have need and we weep and we worry and we wonder where He is but we will not obey. We think about it, we say we’ll do it, we tell others it’s what they should do, and honestly? We want to do it, I know we do. We just don’t actually do whatever He tells us to do.

And that is why we have water but no wine

“Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now.”

And right there my heart loves Him more, again. Right in the place of the best is not behind you but in front of you, always. So when you’ve been looking in the rear view, thinking the good stuff is behind you, you’ll plant your foot right here on this word and weep.

Just when you thought the good wine was gone He reminds you that He is good and He gives nothing cheap, so the best is always yet to come.

And all of that is so good. Conviction to deeper obedience…good. Joy in the best yet to come…so good. But something in the words of this story still nags at me.

Now six stone water jars had been set there for Jewish purification…

And no matter how much or how often that water flowed it would never clean more than the outside. It would wash hands but never hearts. That water is everything I ever did to try to wash away what made me unclean, to make me better, to make me good enough. And that thought leads to this…

“Then He took a cup, and after giving thanks, He gave it to them and said, “Drink from it, all of you. For this is My blood that establishes the covenant; it is shed for many for the forgiveness of sins.”*

And sometimes I’m left on my face at His feet because God turned the story of a wedding into my story and I just don’t know how He does it. But He did and somewhere from the deep of my heart come the only words I can say to worship Him.

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