Rainy Days and Fridays?

It’s a lot harder to blog than you’d think.  At least it has been for me.  I can’t believe it’s been 3 months since my last post.  Time sure does get away from me.  I often think, “I should sit down and write a blog entry,” but obviously, I don’t follow the thought into action. 

Time’s not the only issue though.  I can’t count the number of times I’ve thought of what might be a good entry but I set aside the idea because I begin to think that someone might not like the topic or my views about something.  Sometimes I worry that what I post will be hung over my head at some point by someone who could conceivably make my life miserable.  Maybe my boss wouldn’t like my point of view on some things.  Maybe the people in my congregation would wonder how they possibly got stuck with someone like me.  So I write nothing.  It’s kind of sad when you think about it. 

So my blog sits here like a forgotten yard sale sign that someone put up on a light post last summer but forgot to go back and take down.  Not exactly what I had in mind when I started it.  I had visions of stimulating posts followed by even more stimulating responses from people that read it that would make us all better people, if only in a small way.  I thought it would be a great exercise of intellect, emotions, and of course, writing skills.  I had such high hopes.  Mark Twain once said, “Lord save us all from a hope tree that has lost the faculty of putting out blossoms.”  To that I say amen, Mr. Twain.  Bring on the blossoms…

It is a gloomy day here in South Mississippi which probably accounts for my reflective and somewhat dismal mood.  Couple that with my husband’s dog who has decided to bark at every random noise in the neighborhood today and you’ll understand when I tell you I’ve got a slight headache.  I tend to have headaches every Friday.  Friday is my day off.  Go figure. 

In spite of all that, I was determined to get an entry posted today, so here it is.  It is my prayer that wherever you are today, in whatever circumstances you may find yourself, that you are able to sense the presence of God who loves you, as do I…

L.

The Good of Good Friday

Today is Good Friday.  This is the day that Christians commemorate the crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah.  He was put to death in a horrific way after a sham trial.  Historians might look at the event and see merely the wrongful execution of a man by the current Jewish religious establishment, jealous over his popularity with the common people.  A human rights activist might see it as a grievous miscarriage of justice and a barbaric abuse of a human being.  But a serious Christian sees it as something else entirely.

I struggled for a long time with this whole plan that God came up with.  After all, it IS rather barbaric and seemingly unnecessary for a God who had the power to speak creation into existence.  And, without the ensuing joy of the Resurrection, it would indeed be a heartless, hopeless situation.  I’ve learned over the years as I have grown in the knowledge of God that you can’t look at one without the other.  To see the Crucifixion without the glorious Resurrection is depressing and sadistic.  Conversely, to see the Resurrection without also seeing the incredible pain and suffering of Jesus is to forget how terribly high the cost of the means of our salvation.  The cost was born by God Himself; the salvation is still freely given to those who will accept it in true repentance and recognition of their need for a Savior.

I say “serious Christian” above because I see a lot of Christians who never give a second thought to this day or what it represents.  Sad, but true.  It was the same on that dreadful day at Golgotha.  Many who were devoted disciples of Christ failed to grasp, at least initially, the true significance of the event unfolding before them.  And there were so many others who had never given any credence to this man who created such a stir.  To them, perhaps he was just another religious hack that led a few astray from the real world of political power, wealth, and hedonism.  This is still the viewpoint of multitudes.  Even some in the Church relegate their professed Savior to a sort of ethereal being who only exists to ensure their entrance into heaven after they’ve lived their lives devoid of his influence.  This is called an “abuse of grace”.  It’s the equivalent of being given an incredibly costly gift by someone who loves you dearly, taking the gift, and then spitting in the face of the one who gave it to you and turning and walking away.  I can only imagine how I would feel if I were the gift-giver.  If I’d suffered unbearably in order to provide life for someone else and they took it as if I’d just handed them a pack of gum, I’d be ready to “smite” them.  Good thing I’m not God.

Thankfully, God is gracious and long-suffering.  Oh, he sees those who abuse his grace.  Those who have not chosen the kingdom of God (even when they say they have) are apparent.  Just read the headlines.  Extortion, robbery, abuse, murder – you name it, it’s rampant.  Many are even shamelessly proud of their sin, using every opportunity to display their depravity.  But God, instead of “smiting”, continues to reach out to his creation, both those who deny his very existence and those who, while verbally acknowledging his existence, live as if he was not there.  This is why they call grace “amazing”. 

For each of us, one day the opportunity to turn to God for salvation will be gone.  People ask all the time why a loving God would send people to hell.  It is his love that compels him to leave the choice with us.  Forced love isn't love at all.  Folks don’t seem to understand that each time they seek their own interests above seeking God, they are laying another brick in the wall that will someday eternally separate them from the One who made them.   It is truly amazing that God, who could wipe us all out with one breath, instead chooses to continue to call us to turn to him.  He’s the kind of God who, while dying a painful and horrendous physical death at our hands and for our benefit, can still say, “Forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.”  That’s a kind of love that we can’t fully comprehend.

What do you see when you look at the Cross?  A dead trouble-maker?  A victim of heinous abuse?  A symbol of a former, barbaric age in history?  A religious icon? 

I see love…

Facing the Unknown

There are a lot of things I don’t know.  There are a lot of things you don’t know.  In fact, the older I get and the more I learn, the more I know that I don’t know much.  I can’t even begin to imagine how vast are the things that are able to be known.  Shoot, if you only looked at all of the things that can be known about mathematics, most of which I don’t know, you’d be overwhelmed.  I would love to present the statistics on what percentage of things there are to be known that we actually know, versus the percentage of knowable things that we don’t know.  Trouble is, I don’t know that either.

Sometimes the unknown can be exciting.  Like when Paul and I went on a cruise this past December.  I’d heard about cruises from those who have been on one, and I’d read about cruises from those who sell them, but unless you’ve been on a cruise, you don’t really know what it’s like.  You do, however, expect it to be a good thing.  Counting down the days until the cruise was exciting.  The cruise line we chose even puts a countdown at the top of their web page that tells you how many days until your cruise begins.  It was fun to see the countdown get smaller and smaller. For the most part, our cruise did not disappoint.  We had a good time.  I’m ready to go again.  I wonder what the next one will be like.

Other times, what is unknown can be a source of stress and anxiety.  A woman at my church recently experienced this type of unknown.  Her sister had been very ill and took a turn for the worse a week ago.  The family knew it wouldn’t be long, but they didn’t know when their loved one would pass.  It happened this morning.  There is now grief where the stress of the unknown was. 

Facing the unknown is something we deal with every day, we just don’t always think about it.  We don’t know what’s going to top the news tomorrow.  We don’t know for sure how we’ll feel tomorrow.  And even though the weatherman is calling for another sunny, beautiful day here tomorrow, I don’t know for certain that it will be.  Storms down here on the Gulf Coast can blow up before you can turn around and spit.  The storms of life can blow up just that quickly as well.  You just don’t know.

I’m facing my own potentially stressful unknown at the moment.  Sometime tomorrow or early next week I’ll receive a phone call from my oncologist, telling me how my biopsy turned out.  Truth be told, when I went in for a follow-up visit just two days ago, I didn’t know I’d have to go through another biopsy at all.  I feel great.  It was a surprise.  An unwelcome surprise with an unwelcome unknown to go along with it.

I have figured out how best to handle the unknowns of life.  You have to cling to all of the things you do know.  For instance, I know that cruise ships have life boats – lots of them.  I know where the ibuprofen is in case I have a headache tomorrow.  I know which room in my house is the safest in case a severe storm blows up.  I know that God comforts those who mourn when a loved one is lost and that, if they knew Jesus, we’ll see them again.  And I know that no matter what the biopsy shows, God is good, that He loves me, and that He won’t leave my side, even for a nanosecond.  And with just that knowledge, I can face a lot of unknowns.

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”  Deuteronomy 31:8

Lord, I thank you that you are with me; because of that, I can face anything…

The End of Days?

Unless you’ve been living in a cave somewhere, you know of the tragic events that have unfolded in Japan these last few days.  A terrifying earthquake followed by a tsunami and now the possibility of a nuclear meltdown with unimaginable consequences.  It’s hard to make sense of it all.  Over 10,000 people have died and that number is certain to grow just from the bodies that haven’t been recovered yet.  I keep praying the Lord intervene with the reactors – I can’t wrap my mind around the worst case scenario. 

In light of the recent happenings, I’ve seen a slew of Facebook postings from many different folks who are pointing out that this is all a part of Biblical prophecy and that we shouldn’t be surprised.  I would agree that these happenings are signs that are mentioned in the Bible that will occur as the day of Jesus Christ’s return draws near.  That these events are happening is not what surprises me.

What does surprise me is the confidence in which several people place these posts on their walls.  In fact, they seem a little “in your face” to others who may doubt the Bible as the Word of God – a sort of “See, the Bible IS true, so there!” attitude.  This would indicate to me that they personally believe the Bible is true and that prophecy is indeed being fulfilled.  So you would think that if a person had such a confident belief in the veracity of the Scriptures, you’d see the whole truth contained therein born out in the way they live their lives.  Now for some of the individuals who have placed such posts, their faith in God’s Word is clearly evident.  All you have to do is spend a little time with them.  Unfortunately for some others, their confident posts regarding end-time prophecy seems to be the only indication that they believe the Bible at all. 

The Bible clearly states that those who truly love Jesus are the ones who obey His commands (John 14:23-24 and others).  The commands of Jesus are clear:  “ ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’  This is the first and greatest commandment. ^ And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ ^ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”  (Matthew 22:37-40)  How do we know when someone is following Jesus’ commands?

Jesus said we can know who really belongs to Him by the fruit their lives produce.  He said,

^By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? ^ Likewise every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. ^ A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. ^ Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. ^ Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them. (Matthew 7:16-20)

I’m afraid our churches are filled with fruitless Christians, if there is such a thing.  I think lots of folks believe they are bearing fruit.  But when you examine the kinds of things their lives produce, you don’t see much that is lasting, which is the only kind of fruit we are to bear (John 15:16).  How can we tell?  Well, the fruit of the Spirit is “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control” (Galatians 5:22).  These things are conspicuously absent from the lives of so many who declare themselves Christian.  Instead I see hatred, depression, strife, impatience, cruelty, a desire for evil things, lack of commitment to anything or anyone but themselves, harshness, and lack of any restraint, among many other ungodly things.  Beloved, this should not be…

When we love God with everything that is in us, we spend time with Him.  That means reading His Word, praying, and praising Him.  Loving God with all that we have also means heeding the Word that we read.    This should stand as a central commitment and priority in a believer’s life and it will be evident if this is happening.  Conversely, it will be evident if it is NOT happening.  We show a complete disregard for God’s Word by a) not reading it, and b) not doing what it says.

I like the question Joyce Meyer often asks, “Are you just dating Jesus, or are you married to Him?  Because you don’t get the Name until you’re married.”  I’m married to a wonderful earthly spouse, Paul.  We know each other very well, but we’re still growing together year after year.  I bear Paul’s name.  We are legally bound together.  My relationship with him gives me certain rights and also certain responsibilities.  I’m also married to a Wonderful Heavenly Spouse, Jesus.  I bear His Name as well.  We are spiritually bound together.  He knows me better than I know myself and I am continually growing in my knowledge of Him.  My relationship with Him gives me certain rights and also certain responsibilities.  It is within this relationship that my ultimate security and happiness lies. 

There is danger and turmoil in many places throughout the world.  However, I guarantee you that this evening, the most dangerous place to be isn’t a location anywhere across the globe.  The most dangerous place to be is to be deceived about your relationship with Jesus.  To claim faith in the Holy Scriptures and then to live as if it doesn’t exist is a far more dangerous place to be than in the middle of an natural disaster or a war zone or a nuclear meltdown.  Jesus had more to say right after he spoke about bearing fruit from Matthew 7 above:

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. ^ Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?’ ^ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’ (Matthew 7:21-23)

I am afraid that many who believe they have a relationship with Jesus will be met instead with the words above.  That breaks my heart more than anything.  I often wonder if it will be better on the Day of Judgment for those who never claimed to be a friend of God than for those who claimed a faith they never possessed.  I mourn that there will be either when Jesus returns.

Lord, even as I mourn for and lift up those who are suffering in Japan this evening, I am grateful to You that, at least for this moment, my family and I are safe.  Knowing that could change in an instant, I am so thankful that even death will not separate You and I. And I pray that those who have never made a real commitment to you will have their eyes opened before it is too late…

Happy Birthday...

Today was my father’s birthday.  He would have been 91.  I can’t imagine him that old.  He passed when he was 62 and I was 17.  Even though it’s been so many years, there are still moments when something will happen or I’ll see or hear something that reminds me of him.  Those moments often produce some tears.  I often wonder how my life might have been different if he’d lived longer.  Would I have made the same poor choices and have broken his heart like I did my mom’s for a lot of years?  Even the possibility of that idea causes me to be grateful that he didn’t witness my downward spiral.  Maybe my choices would have been different.  Only God knows.

I’ve been thinking about my dad today due to all these protests going on because of the states that are working to pass legislation to limit collective bargaining for state employees.  Whenever I think about unions, I think about my dad.  He was a blue collar worker and his job was with a unionized shop.  I remember a few of the times the union would call for a vote on whether or not to strike and how upset my dad would get about it all.  He always voted against a strike.  Always.  It wasn’t that he would have turned down more money or better benefits, but my dad remembered The Great Depression.  He was a kid, but he was old enough to see how devastating it was.  He experienced it firsthand.  That event shaped his life greatly.  He learned that when times are tough, any job is better than no job.  He was always grateful for the job he had.  He really didn’t understand why anyone would walk out on their job.  He would have cleaned toilets with a toothbrush for 18 hours a day before he’d sit at home or on a picket line.  I remember seeing how pained he was when, even though he voted against it (he was always in the minority), the shop would strike.  I don’t know if he ever suffered for the way he voted with his co-workers.  If he did, he never mentioned it.  I’ve always been proud of him for his strong work ethic and that he wasn’t afraid to vote his conscience, even if his wasn’t a very popular stance.

Dad was not a perfect man, but I think he did okay considering his life circumstances.  He was one of three children, although his brother, Gilbert, died as a child.  I didn’t find out until much later that my grandfather told my dad that he wished it had been him that had died instead of Gilbert.  Tough as my dad was on the outside, I can only imagine how that must have hurt him.  Turns out my grandfather was not a very nice man at all.  Dad only went to school through the 7^th grade.  He joined the military young and ended up stationed in the Philippines during WWII.  He was proud of his service to his country but there were things he saw over there that he wouldn’t talk about. 

The first time I ever saw my dad cry was when my mom found a lump in her breast.  It scared me so much to see him cry that I thought for sure my mom was done for.  Thankfully, that wasn’t the case!  That wasn’t the last time I saw him cry.  I think his heart problems had been coming on for some time.  You know how men rarely seek the medical attention they should.  Especially after his second heart attack, he seemed to get more and more emotional.  I know a lot of it was frustration at not being able to do what he used to do.  He couldn’t work – couldn’t even vacuum the carpet without pain.  It was hard to see him struggle.  The Lord was merciful and he didn’t struggle too long.  In the middle of one November, dad suffered respiratory failure at home.  I wasn’t there; I was out with a school function.  By the time the paramedics got there and revived him, his brain had suffered too much damage.  He was in a coma for a month and he slipped away on December 20^th.  Some folks say it’s easier when you’re expecting it, but I don’t think it is. 

One of my most vivid memories was how every night before he went to sleep, he’d be propped up in bed reading his Bible.  I still have that Bible.  It’s falling apart and filled with newspaper clippings and bits and bobs from here and there that he wanted to save.  Dad often told me, “No matter what, don’t forget God.”  I don’t think he even realized how much little things like that stuck with me.  It was little things like that which enabled me to know which way to turn when I was tired of blowing up my own life.  Looking back, I can see that his relationship with God was imperfect, but he walked in the light he had.  Thanks, Daddy, and happy birthday.  I miss you.  I’ll see you soon.

Lord, thank you so much for a father who, while not perfect, was everything that I needed him to be.  And thank you, Lord, that you have not left me an orphan, but in you, I have a perfect Father and the hope that I’ll see my earthly dad again…

Sowing Seeds for Eternity

A dear friend of ours passed away yesterday.  He was not a young man but his illness seemed to come like a whirlwind and suddenly, he’s no longer here.  I’m not sure I can fathom our little hometown in Ohio without Lyle running around in it.  Things there will certainly never be quite the same.  My heart hurts for his family. 

As I pondered his death yesterday, it occurred to me that this life, the life we live on this planet, is ultimately about preparing for the next life.  We spend every moment of every day, whether we realize it or not, sowing eternal seeds.  We sow either seeds of life or seeds of destruction.  Each day we make hundreds of choices that determine which type.  We don’t often realize the import of every choice.  I heard a speaker at a seminar once point out that whenever we say “yes” to one thing, we are saying “no” to everything else in that moment.  I believe that’s true, but I must admit that I don’t often keep this thought in the forefront of my mind when making choices regarding my time and energy. 

I’ve sown plenty of seeds that, at their best, were a complete waste of precious time and, at their worst, actually fed destruction in my own life or in the lives of those around me.  I regret very much those choices.  Many seemed so innocuous at the time.  How easy it is to move through life rather carelessly.  When I think about the power hidden in each moment, that every choice I make is pregnant with eternal significance – for the good or the bad – I am overwhelmed with a sense of responsibility.  This thought would be too much for me to bear except for the knowledge that, as a Christian, I do not shoulder this responsibility alone.  Thank you, Jesus. 

Our dear friend was not a perfect man.  I’m sure he, like all of us, made some choices that he wished he hadn’t.  But I do know that Lyle sowed a lot of seeds that produced life for a multitude of people around him.  My husband and I are a part of that number and we are grateful. 

Lord, I pray you help me to remember the eternal significance of each choice I make.  Enable me to plant seeds of life.  Thank you for those who have sown seeds of life into the soil of my heart.  And Lord, please tell Lyle thanks for us and that we’ll see him soon…

Reunited With Dad

I have been learning how to be a faithful Christ-follower again.  Why again?  It is because God has been showing me that I have lost sight of important things and have busied myself with unimportant things.  The great irony in all this is that the busyness I have allowed to distract me from Jesus is the busyness inherent in the pastorate.  I think that somewhere inside I knew that there were trappings of ministry that could distract me from my relationship with God but we never truly believe that we can be so easily led astray, do we?  Especially those of us called to full-time ministry.  We’re the responsible ones – the ones who are supposed to be leading others in the way of Christ.  Yet, it happened.  As I reflect back on a year in my first pastorate, I realize that I have spent the year majoring in the minors.  Duh…  I am humbled at the thought and regret very much all the time that I perceive now as wasted time. 

I found myself this evening thinking of how awful it would be if I lost my relationship with God.  If suddenly I turned around and He was no longer there.  Not that He would be the one who left.  It scared me deeply to think of living even a minute of my life without Him.  And I felt foolish all over again for having been so distracted instead of earnestly attentive to the only One whose presence I simply cannot live without.  Thankfully, as He has been calling me back to Him, I have heard His voice and have run back to His open arms.  And the best part is, He is calling me back not as “pastor” but as “daughter” – His dearly loved child.  I had forgotten how absolutely blissful it is to just be in His presence as His child and not to feel as if I need to glean something profoundly earth-shattering so that I can carry it back as “The Pastor”.  It is a joy to return to the simple times like I had when I first came to know Him; times that were marked by an excitement in never knowing what He’d have planned for me on that day but that it would certainly be something wonderful.  Even when days would be difficult, they were somehow still very joyful.  The coolest thing is, when I think back on those times and begin to experience them again, I find profound things pouring out of the overflow of what He pours into me.  So even though I am before Him as “daughter” and not as “pastor”, His Spirit faithfully makes a way for me to minister to others and in this way I find the joy of ministry restored.

So much of what can go on in a church can go on without His presence.  How scary is that?  Think about it.  Services, programs…there’s so much information on how to “have a successful (insert name) ministry”, we can schedule and equip just about anything.  Doesn’t mean God’s in it.  But I don’t want a “successful (insert name) ministry.”  I want God; God in all His glory and with all His power, meeting with His people and making His presence known in the world – even in my own little corner of the world.  I want people freed and saved and sanctified and healed.  See, when those are your goals, you realize really quickly that you, as a servant of Christ, have absolutely no power to affect any of those things.  Those things all come from Him.  Those things are all the business of the Holy Spirit.  So what is the Church’s role?  I believe He’s shown me that it’s to shamelessly and hungrily seek Him.  It’s to pray, love, disciple and serve.  It’s to obey, persevere, and sacrifice.  And we are to do it together – thank God!