Who's Got The Power?

Did you know that nothing can, or cannot, happen to you without the approval or knowledge of your heavenly Father?  Did you know that, when trouble comes, there is someone ultimately in control?  Someone who really and truly cares about you and has your best interest in mind.  Nothing, nothing, has more power over your life, or your circumstances, than the power of God.

"Where do you come from?" Pilate asked Jesus, but Jesus gave him no answer.  "Do you refuse to speak to me?" Pilate said.  "Don't you realize I have the power either to free you or to crucify you?"  Jesus answered, "You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above." John 19:9-11

That's a pretty weighty declaration Jesus makes.  Pilate thinks he's the one calling the shots.  He assumes he's the one with the power over Jesus' destiny.  What Pilate doesn't realize is that Jesus' life is not in his hands.  If God had not given Pilate power, Jesus would not be standing before him with his life on the line.  Jesus knew this.  Jesus understood who he belonged to and for what purpose his death would serve.  Pilate was only a part of the story.

Sometimes I wrestle with this.  I find myself in a challenging situation, and I just want scratch and claw my way out of it.  I don't want to go through difficulties.  I think maybe there is something I can do to "fix" everything.  And then I read those very simple yet profound  words of Jesus: "You would have no power over me if it had not been given from above."

Stop for a moment and think about that.  Nothing can have power over me or you unless it has been given from above.  God is in control.  And if he is allowing the pressure of pain to push deep, then he must know that the resurrection of your life, or your dreams, or your hopes, is on its way.  The same power that was given to Pilate is the same power that raised Jesus from the dead!

Nothing can happen to us that hasn't already passed through God's hands.  I take great comfort in this, whether it be in the challenges I face raising my children, or when a dream seems to be pushed aside and forgotten.  God is in control.  And I really like the idea of God's power working in my favor, even if it means facing some disappointments along the way.

Jesus Said A Prayer For Us

In John 17 Jesus prayed a prayer for his disciples.  And while he was praying he was thinking about me and you.  Some 2000 years ago my face flashed through the mind of my Savior moments before he was arrested and sentenced to death. "My prayer is not for them alone.  I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message..." (vs 20).  Jesus reached through time and space and said a prayer for me...for us.  As he prayed he visualized the face of every believer living, and those of us to come.  We were on his mind before he died for us.

And you know what he was thinking?  He was thinking what every parent thinks about during the long weeks of summer vacation when school is out and the kids are home and restless.  Please...get along.  Stop fighting.  Work it out.  Be one.

The one prayer that Jesus prayed for us was a call to be unified.

"That all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you.  May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me." (vs. 21).  The way the world will know Jesus is by the example of oneness of his followers.  And this kind of unity can only come from a sincere love for one another; a love that Jesus commanded:

"One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating.  Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, 'Of all the commandments, which is the most important?'  'The most important one,' answered Jesus, 'is this: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and will all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.  The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself.  There is no commandment greater than these.'" Mark 12:28-31.

"A new command I give to you: Love one another.  As I have loved you, so you must love one another.  By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." John 13:34-35.

Jesus wasn't making a friendly suggestion.  He was lovingly commanding us to live in peace with one another.  To walk in unity, from then until now.  And by this the world would know Jesus.  In that very moment, when Jesus was preparing to die, he paused and prayed for us.  He must have known how hard this command would be for us to follow.  He must have realized that I would need the extra prayer support for those days when I just want to blast another believer because they "got on my nerves" or "didn't treat me very well".  Whatever the justification for our irritation, Jesus commanded us to love.  To love as Christ loved us.  To be one as Christ is one with the Father.

So, how are we doing on this?  I know I have a lot of room for improvement.  Which makes me both humbled and grateful that Jesus said a prayer for me.  That Jesus was thinking of me all those years ago.  It reminds me of how much he loves me...and how much he loves this crazy, messed up world.

Either Jesus Was In A Bad Mood Or He Had A Serious Fig Craving

(Once upon a time...) "Early in the morning, as he (Jesus) was on his way back to the city, he was hungry.  Seeing a fig tree by the road, he went up to it but found nothing on it except leaves.  Then he said to it, 'May you never bear fruit again!'  Immediately the tree withered." (Matthew 21:18 & 19)

This same story is relayed in Mark 11:12-14:

"The next day as they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry.  Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to find out if it had any fruit.  When he reached it, he found nothing but leaves, because it was not the season for figs.  Then he said to the tree, 'May no one ever eat fruit from you again.'"

My initial thought is, "Wow.  Was Jesus in a bad mood, or what?"  Cursing fig trees.  That's kind of how I get when I haven't had enough sleep.  I just want to curse my fridge for not having anything edible in it, and I want to throw every toy in my path into the garbage.  However, Jesus' words and actions are always intentional.  The Jewish New Testament Commentary calls this "making a point by means of a prophetic drama, an acted-out parable."  Look at the story in Mark again.  It was not the season for figs.  Surely Jesus already knew that.  This is the same Jesus who saw Nathaniel, in John 1:43-51, sitting under a fig tree before they even met.  And it's not like hunger was something that could undo Jesus either.  Remember when he was tempted by the devil after fasting for 40 days and 40 nights (Matthew 4:1-4)?  This was no fig craving Jesus was having.

So why was he cursing a poor, defenseless plant?  Jesus was acting out a parable in front of his disciples to make a very serious point:  bear fruit.  A fig tree in leaf holds the promise that fruit is coming.  "We know that Yeshua expects God's people to put forth the fruit of righteousness, and that unproductive branches will be thrown in the fire.  Thus the drying-up of the fig tree is an acted-out warning."  Living fruitful lives is that important to Jesus.  He wasn't in a bad mood.  He didn't have a craving for figs.  Jesus took an ordinary fig tree and lovingly turned it into a teachable moment for his disciples, and us who follow him.

"Yeshua here is teaching his followers what it means to serve their master, God: it means simply to have the kind of trust that comes from God (vs. 22), and that they will wither away if they don't.  Yeshua neither acts from pique nor performs arbitrary miracles like a magician; every one of his supernatural acts has spiritual significance." - David H. Stern

The warning: bear fruit or wither away.  Jesus has some pretty high expectations of us.  It's not enough to have pretty leaves hanging from our branches.  We must produce fruit; otherwise, we are useless.  And the type of fruit we are called to produce can only come from trusting in God and walking with him every day.  We can't force the fruit to grow, just as a fig tree can't produce figs on demand.  It takes watering from the Word, and constant contact with our Lord.  And all things are possible for those who believe.  "If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer (vs.22)."  To live this kind of  life all we have to do is ask God and believe, and he will work the soil, plant the seeds, and water to a fruitful harvest.  That's a promise.

Maybe Jesus really did have a fig craving, but not the physical kind.  Maybe he has a craving to see more fruit in our lives.  And this he takes very seriously.

I Never Promised You A Rose Garden

John 16:33 "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world." I like happy stories.  My favorite part of a movie is usually the opening scene showing a happy family going about their business, innocent and peaceful.  Stress builds in the pit of my stomach when the plot begins to unfold and the happy family is suddenly shaken by monsters or tidal waves or earthquakes and the like.  I want to go back to the beginning where everyone is happy.  I just don't like trouble.

And Jesus' last words to his disciples in John 16 is a guarantee that trouble is brewing.  Trouble is a promise.  Life isn't going to be easy and smooth.  It is going to be hard, especially for those who believe in Jesus.  The happy picture isn't going to be the whole story.  There will be monsters and tidal waves and earthquakes.  There will be broken relationships, hurt feelings, financial difficulties, and challenges raising children.  The minute we say "yes" to Jesus doesn't suddenly make us immune to the pain of this world.  It's like Jesus is trying to tell us here, "I beg your pardon.  I never promised you a rose garden."

The Jewish New Testament Commentary says this: "The life of a believer in the Messiah is not the proverbial rose garden, except, perhaps, for the thorns.  Nevertheless, Yeshua encourages us: Be brave!  I have conquered the world!"

So, life is hard.  And a life devoted to Jesus is even harder.  That's not very happy news.  However, while Jesus doesn't promise us a rose garden life, he does promise us that, while there will be thorns that prick us and cause deep pain, we can take heart.  Jesus has already conquered the thorns.  He has already won the victory over the monsters and the tidal waves and the earthquakes and the like.  We can be brave.

Jesus holds the salve for every thorn that pricks our skin.  And while we may not see the happy ending just yet, it is coming.  The same God that has overcome the world has overcome our problems.  He gives us peace and assurance of his faithfulness.  And that is the promise we can hold on to...till the very end.

The Things We Hold On To

I successfully delivered three truck loads of old baby clothes, furniture, books, toys and various kinds of paraphernalia to Goodwill today.  With the help of my parents, I confidently tackled the most ominous space in our house: the garage.  For six years it has taunted me, and I've been too wimpy to face the junk.  Today I conquered my fears and took my overstuffed garage by the horns.  It's been a long day, and as we sit in the living room, nursing sore muscles and still sneezing from the dust, dirt and cobwebs, I keep thinking about all the meaningless, weighty stuff that we held on to for so many years, and wondering why it took me this long to lighten the load. Going through boxes, plastic tubs and footlockers - that I'm sure were purchased way back in the 80's - I was struck by the wide variety of things we have held on to: papers, old coats that went out of style 15 years ago, toys our children have outgrown.  There was even one unidentifiable object that has seen us through three different moves.  What a crazy thing to hold on to!  It was time to let it go (whatever it was).

Just as I have a tendency to hold on to material junk - you could call me a tidy hoarder - I know I am capable of holding on to other kinds of junk too: anger, hurt from the past, resentment, a grudge.  Eventually someone wise speaks into my life and says, "Isn't it time to clean out your garage?"  And as painful and overwhelming as it seems in the moment, once I get started the better I feel.  The weight of the burden, the unidentifiable objects I've been carrying around for years, begin to lift, and life looks good again.

It is surprising to me the things we hold on to.  And most of those things we don't need.  What about you?  Is it time to clean out your garage too?

Trust In Real Life

Problems.  They either get your heart pumping with adrenaline or bring weighty worry. One thing that I am slow in learning, but growing in just the same, is trusting in the Lord no matter what my outside circumstances - or pending deadlines - look like.  God is always in control, and He has never let me down.  When real life happens, and it does quite frequently at my house, my go-to reaction oftentimes is fear and worry.  Immediately I wonder how we will pay for this, or how this interpersonal relationship will be restored, or how I'm going to break it to my kids that we are having Tortilla Casserole for dinner (their moans can be heard all over Portland).  I confess, I don't always run to Jesus and His promises.  This is real life, and this is where rubber meets the road and we either act on what we say we believe or we let worry and fear monopolize our lives and drive us to despair.

We get to choose.  Trust in the Lord or freak out.

More and more I'm choosing trust.  Because there is no return for worry.  But there's always a great blessing in trust.  God takes care of the real life stuff.  He provides.  He heals and restores.  And he gives grace to moms who have run out of creative dinner choices.  Trust brings hope and peace.  Worry brings fine lines and wrinkles.  I can't afford Botox, so I think trust is a better way for me to go.

And here's what Jesus says, His promise to us:

Matthew 6:25-34

"Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.  Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not much more valuable than they?  Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?  And why do you worry about clothes?  See how the lilies of the field grow.  They do not labor or spin.  Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.  If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?  So do not worry saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we wear?'  For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.  But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.  Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own."

Trust in real life means God is in control of the practical things too, and freaking out is a waste of time and energy.  And Lord knows, I need all the energy I can get.

Remove Your Veil

"We all, with unveiled faces, are reflecting the glory of the Lord and are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory; this is from the Lord who is the Spirit." 2 Corinthians 3:18 Recently my friends and I were discussing this scripture.  Each one of us expressing its impact on our lives and our varying perspectives on it.  Our conversation inspired and challenged me to dig a little deeper.

The veil in this scripture is not an actual veil - Paul is speaking figuratively.  What he is referring to is the mind of the unbelieving Jew who lives with impaired vision and understanding.  They are hard, unreceptive, stonelike.  There is a resistance to the truth of Yeshua.  In the time of Moses the presence of God was hidden behind a veil.  And the unbelieving Jew still lives behind that veil.

The writer of the Jewish New Testament Commentary cites the use of "Adonai" in this text - which is not in this text, but what he believes to be Paul's sense - means "Spirit".  He goes on to write:

Where the Spirit of Adonai is, there is freedom to function within the framework of Torah without being enslaved by it.  And thus all of us, not just Paul and his co-workers, but all believers, with faces unveiled, with open hearts, not stonelike but sincere and unclouded, see as in a mirror the glory of Adonai, and we are being changed into his very image, from one degree of glory to the next, by Adonai the Spirit.  This is how the Spirit "gives life".

This excites me.  When Jesus Christ came, so did the fulfillment of the law.  Where once we had to enter into the presence of God hidden behind a veil, we can now enter his presence with unveiled faces.  When Christ died the veil in the Temple was torn in two.  The significance of that amazes me.  There are no barriers to entering the presence of God.  And it is the Holy Spirit that brings this revelation.  It is the Spirit that removes the veil from our faces and brings clarity and understanding.

I was driving to meet some friends for dinner this past week and happened to look over at the car next to me as we stood still at a red light.  The woman driving the car was a Muslim.  Her face was almost completely hidden behind her head covering.  In fact, her veil was so prominent that I couldn't even make out the shape of her profile.  Every part of her face, except for the eyes, was covered.  I thought of this scripture.  I thought of how many of us walk around blind and covered up to the truth of Jesus Christ.  We are driving through life, believing in the restrictions and distortions of false hope and religion, our hearts hardened to the truth.  We have yet to see clearly.

"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.  Now in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." 1 Corinthians 13:12

Even as the veil drops, we have yet to see fully the magnificence of God.  On earth we can only comprehend so much...we can only see in part, but one day we will see everything.  "But when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears." (vs. 10) What we have now is an imperfect awareness of God's glory, but when Christ returns the imperfection will disappear, and perfection will be fully known.

I wish I could have encouraged the woman in the car next to me that she doesn't need a veil to enter into God's presence.  The veil was removed when Christ died for her sins.  But I didn't get the opportunity to share this with her.  The light eventually turned green, and we drove our separate ways.

I hope and pray that you will see clearly, that if you have been wearing a veil out of fear or stubborn rebellion you would allow the Holy Spirit to soften your heart to the truth.  You don't have to live bound up behind a veil.  You can have freedom.  You can have life.  You can know Jesus.  You can remove your veil.

Royalty

The feeling of anticipation was palpable.  Prince Charles was coming to Kenya.  I was barely a teenager then, but I remember it well: the buzz, the excitement, the "I wonder if I'll catch a brief glimpse of royalty?" type feelings.  So it was not surprising when my dad came home for dinner with a royal story that still brings a smile to my face. Errands needed to be run.  On a day when the long-awaited Prince Charles was scheduled to arrive, running errands in Nairobi - which in and of itself is a daunting task - proved to be torturous.  As my dad, and fellow missionary, made their way to the final stretch home, crowds of students, mothers, fathers, business men and curious bystanders began to fill the small marketplace and spill into the street.  There was no penetrating this human wall waiting for the Prince.  And then my dad had a brilliant idea.  He told his friend to crawl into the back seat of his Peugeot, crack the window and start waving when when he began to toot his horn.  With darkened windows, and a freshly washed car, they hoped to convince the crowd that somebody special was driving through.  As my dad turned the corner and began blasting his horn, the missionary in the back seat started waving in very royal-like fashion.  The crowd parted like the Red Sea.  An eruption of praise and excitement rippled through the street - people jumping, singing and rejoicing - as two missionaries drove down Mumias Road.

I have been sitting in my living room watching the footage of the royal nuptials of Prince William and Kate Middleton this morning.  I have gasped with awe, smiled in romantic approval and shed a slight tear at the regality of it all.  What an incredible moment as a young woman - a simple commoner - becomes a Princess - becomes royalty.

When I was a very young girl I sat on my mom's lap and asked Jesus to come into my life and be my Savior.  In that moment, years ago, I went from being a simple commoner to significant royalty.

In my ugly blue robe and mess of bed-head, I am a princess.  My title is not an earthly one, but an eternal one.

I am royalty.  And so are you!  Smile like you know it, walk like you mean it.  Toot your horn and wave like crazy.  You are no longer a commoner.  You belong to the King!

In The Beginning

Adam and Eve.  Theirs was truly a life to be envied.  Can you imagine walking and talking with God in the cool of the day?  Can you imagine the lushness and beauty of the Garden of Eden?  What must it have been like to be fully exposed, naked, and unashamed?  Their relationship with God and each other was one of perfection.  Can you imagine?  It was a perfect world. And then sin entered the picture.  Truth was distorted.  Deceit and empty promises enticed.  Eve chose first and Adam followed.  And what was pure and perfect, lovely and whole, became shrouded in shame and disgrace.

The first thing they noticed once their eyes were opened was their nakedness.  They scrambled to cover themselves up - to cover up their shame, to hide and withdraw.  Sad.  This wasn't what God intended, but in his love he gave them the freedom to choose.  And they chose.

When God found them - he is a God who pursues - he noticed their efforts to clothe themselves.  He was disappointed and, dare I say, heartbroken.  The freedom to be bare and completely known was gone.  There were severe consequences for these actions, and we are still dealing with them today.  And yet, even as God brought firm discipline to Adam and Eve for their disobedience, he extended grace.  God made garments for them, out of skin, and clothed them.  He knew the curse of sin that now entered the world, and he knew the shame that they would carry as a result of their sin, and so out of love he graciously clothed them and covered up their shame.

We have stuff.  We have pain.  We carry around our ugliness, our insecurities and our pasts - each one of us.  But most of us are pretty good and hiding behind our fig leaves.  We cover up our shame through good deeds, nice clothes, success, and lots of Bible knowledge.  We are terrified to let anyone see our nakedness.  But God sees.  He knows.  He longs, not to hide our sin, but to cover our sin with his grace.  While he isn't in the business of making animal print pencil skirts and blouses, he is in the business of restoring and covering our sin with his perfect love and undeserved grace.  When Christ died on the cross he did so in order to bring this story of redemption full circle.  He covered Adam and Eve's physical nakedness in the Garden, but now we are covered completely in his blood.

This is good.  Shame and confusion, hiding and fear, are the things that initially drove Adam and Eve away from God.  God pursued and exposed, and then he clothed them.  He is doing the same thing today.  He gives us freedom to choose.  He gives us room to make the unwise choice, but he also guarantees that his love is big enough, strong enough, and complete enough to gently expose our shame, and then cover us with His grace.

Eternity Is Closer Than We Think

Last week an Ethiopian church planter was martyred, a wife and four children left without a husband and father.  A friend of mine miscarried her baby.  My grandfather passed away only a few days ago.  And we are all aware of the recent tragedy in Japan.  This has had me thinking about eternity.  Life after death.  What am I living for? There is something profound that takes place when a loved one dies or tragedy strikes.  We are compelled to stop and think about what comes next.  As a Christian my thoughts linger upon eternity.  The reality that earth is not my forever home sinks in deep within my soul, and I find that these earthly worries - material distractions, how my hair looks and what I'm wearing - quickly fade into the background.  Suddenly my heart is drawn to the number one purpose of my existence, and that is God.  The hope that the cross gives us.  The grace that God has so lavishly poured out upon my life.  And the promise of heaven that awaits me.

I heard someone say that we can create "heaven here on earth."  My inner response to this disillusioned statement is that earth is corrupt and sinful, messy and painful.  Earth is not eternal.  And I'm not living for earth.  I'm not looking forward to "heaven on earth".  I'm looking heavenward to eternity with Jesus Christ.  Where there will be no more sorrow.  No more pain.  No more heartache.  No more prejudice.  No more fear.  No more sin.  This...THIS is what I am living for.  This is what that precious pastor in Ethiopia died for.  This is where my grandfather now walks and runs and sings.  This is where my friend's tiny unborn child waits for her mother.

And eternity is closer than we think.  Beth Moore talks about our "ten minutes on earth".  Our lives are a mere breath.  A snapshot in time.  Our moment is very brief here on planet earth.  Eternity is literally a heartbeat away.  Are we ready for it?

I want to be ready.  I want Jesus to say to me when I enter eternity, "Well done, Amy.  Well done."  Until that time there is much to do.  Giving God my life.  Serving him and representing Jesus to a lost world.  Speaking TRUTH in LOVE.  Aware of and meeting the needs here in the present, but always looking upward to a better future.  And as my seven-year-old daughter would say, "We gotta love God like we mean it!"

Jesus.  How I so desperately need him, cling to him and know that this beautiful life beyond death was only made possible through his sacrifice on the cross.  I can't repay that.  But I can give him my life.  I can do my best to point others to Him.  To point others toward eternity - to hope.  To Jesus.

Eternity is closer than we think.

Out Of Poverty

She didn't have anything.  She was probably all crumpled up with tender joints and dim with age.  Her posture low due to her poverty and humility.  She was the poorest of the poor.  And yet...she gave out of her nothing and gave God everything. I haven't been able to get this poor widow woman from Mark 12 out of my mind for the past week.  "She gave out of her poverty." We have no concept of what poverty really looks like or feels like.

When I was a little girl growing up in Kenya, we would drive by a very large slum area every single day on our way to school.  The stench was unbearable, and the filth unimaginable.  There were no satellite dishes or television antenna poking out from the sea of flat roofs and tin structures.  There was nothing but mud, manure, mounds of garbage, and smokey charcoal fires.  This is poverty.

I know what it's like when finances are tight.  There have been many times when we've had to cut back on our spending and watch every penny.  But the poverty I witnessed in Kenya is something I will never identify with.

Mark 12:41-44

Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury.  Many rich people threw in large amounts.  But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a fraction of a penny.  Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, "I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others.  They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything - all she had to live on."

There is a great deal of conviction in that passage of Scripture.  Giving out of poverty.  My heart is aching.  How much of my life have I given to Christ?  How much priority do I give to the eternal, and what place do material things have in my little world?  Have I given so much of myself that it hurts?  Can I say that my day has been well spent?  Is the source of my security in how much I have here on earth, or in the steadfast faithfulness of God?  What am I attached to?

The poor widow had nothing of material wealth, and yet she still gave.  The things of this world meant nothing to her.  Her life was more than her current circumstances.  Her priority was God, and giving him everything, knew her source was not in the copper coins, but in her creator.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit."

When we give out of our poverty God sees, and he is honored.

I wonder if perhaps Jesus is not simply implying monetary poverty, but spiritual and emotional poverty as well?  What if his message in this little blip of history is that he is not impressed when we give ourselves out of our natural giftings and comfort zones, but when we give of ourselves beyond what we have naturally or comfortably?  I think God is more interested in a heart that is completely dependent upon him, and willing to give, even when there is nothing left to spend.  I think God is not impressed so much with how beautiful the gift is, but how beautiful is the heart of the giver.

I feel challenged to take my eyes off of the natural, off of those things I can see and touch, and begin allowing God to lead and direct my steps, even if he takes me outside of my comfort zone.  I believe he wants us to give ourselves out of our most impoverished parts.  Because when we give out of our nothing, we give God our everything.

Bitterness Does Not Become You

Herodias wanted John the Baptist's head on a platter.  She was an angry woman spurred on by the cancer of bitterness that permeated her entire being.  The NIV says she "nursed a grudge."  She was not only offended by John's confrontation of her sin, but she invested time and energy into nursing her wound and allowing her grudge to grow and metastasize.  Which ultimately ended in a head, literally, on a platter. Bitterness is unbecoming.  It is ugliness personified.

I'm going to speculate that each one of us has been either confronted by the truth and didn't like it very much, and found our feelings for our confronter to be less than warm, or we've been hurt deeply by someone, knowingly or unknowingly, and the pain of that wound has transformed into anger and mistrust.

Being confronted with a sin in our lives is uncomfortable, at best.  None of us wants to hear the truth from someone we love and respect, or hear a sermon that pinches just a little too hard.  It's downright painful.  Even so, the bitterness that stems from this pain is wasted.  Seriously.  Confess your sins and God is faithful to forgive.  Then move on.  It is pride that makes us hold on to our grudge for dear life.

On the other hand, being hurt by someone is not the same thing.  Whether or not the blow was intentional, pain is pain, and it's very difficult to simply forgive and get over it.  Bitterness is almost understandable.  However, it is still bitterness, and left unresolved, leads to death.  A nursed grudge over time becomes anger.  And anger leads us to do things we would never fathom doing in our right mind.

Herodias wanted to kill John the Baptist, but she couldn't, at least not yet.  Eventually she found a way.  She not only succeeded in killing John, but she brought her daughter into her bitterness too.

Mark 6:22-28

When the daughter of Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his dinner guests.  The king said to the girl, "Ask me for anything you want, and I'll give it to you."  and he promised her with an oath, "Whatever you ask I will give you, up to half my kingdom."  She went out and said to her mother, "What shall I ask for?"  "The head of John the Baptist," she answered.  At once the girl hurried in to the king with the request: "I want you to give me right now the head of John the Baptist on a platter."  The king was greatly distressed, but because of his oaths and his dinner guests, he did not want to refuse her.  So he immediately sent an executioner with orders to bring John's head.  The man went, beheaded John in the prison, and brought back his head on a platter.  He presented it to the girl, and she gave it to her mother.

The Message translation describes Herodias as a woman "smoldering with hate."  When I read this passage I was immediately convicted of the petty grievances I have held on to.  We are so easily offended, are we not?  We blindly get caught up in our offenses that we forget how to work things out with each other (Matthew 18:15-20).  Whether or not our pain is justified, bitterness never is.  It always lands back in our own laps.  I've been hurt, rightly or wrongly, so what am I going to do with this?  Am I going to allow bitterness to fester inside, and eventually spill out onto my children?  Am I willing to let the light within me die out?

God is aware of our pain.  He isn't demanding something from us that he hasn't already experienced.  He died so we wouldn't have to.  He forgave us so that we would know how to forgive others.  I'll be honest, I don't want to end up like Herodias.  I don't want my legacy to say, "Amy went down smoldering with hate."  I want to be a beautiful testimony of grace and forgiveness, love and compassion.  I can't be that and hold a grudge at the same time.

And what about you?  Have you been confronted lately and you would like nothing more than to see a head on a platter?  Or have you been hurt by someone, and all you want is to see them suffer the way you feel you have suffered?  Either way, bitterness does not become you.  Don't nurse the grudge.  Do something productive with your pain.  Confess your sin, if you have sinned, and get on with your life.  Or confront that person who has hurt you, seek out reconciliation and get on with your life.

Don't hold on to your grudge...hold on to freedom.

The Calm

Matthew 26 and 27 convey the story of Christ's betrayal and crucifixion.  I was just reading these two chapters last week and was struck by all the chaos surrounding Christ in those final hours of his life.  An angry mob was screaming for his death.  His disciples scattered in fear and terror.  Peter, the rock, stung by the reality of his denial, found himself a broken man.  Caesar's wife- disturbed by a dream- tried to persuade her husband to distance himself from this drama.  The world was coming unhinged. And where was Jesus?  Standing quietly in the center of it all- Bearing the weight of his destiny, the sting of a thorny crown upon his head, and staring at the road of sorrow that lie ahead.

My mind wandered back to the time when Jesus and his disciples were on a boat.  A storm raging all around, the disciples were convinced they would drown.  Fear gripped them as a furious squall rose up, and they cried out to Jesus.

Where was he?  Wasn't he aware of the gravity of the situation?  Lives were at stake.  Hope was awash in the swirl of violent waves.  Where was Jesus?  Sleeping.

Mark 4:38-40

The disciples woke him and said to him, "Teacher, don't you care if we drown?"  He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, "Quiet!  Be Still!"  Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.  He said to his disciples, "Why are you so afraid?  Do you still have no faith?"

Sometimes Jesus calms the storm.  Sometimes he is simply the calm in the midst of the storm.  Either way, I believe he would say to us when the winds of uncertainty, fear, and trouble blow through our lives, "Why are you so afraid?  Do you still have no faith?"

Christ prayed three times that God would change his destiny.  Three times he cried out for a different way.  And each time he relinquished his will and surrendered to that of his Father.  Death and separation from God was terrifying to Jesus, and if there could be an easier way to atone for the sins of the world, he would have gladly traded his cup in for a new one.  But deep down he knew that there could be no other way.  There could be no other sacrifice.  His death was our only hope.  And as he stood in the midst of the chaos and confusion, his heart was at peace because he knew this was not the end.  Victory was just beyond his death.  He was at peace with his destiny.  And he was the calm in eye of the storm.

God knows the purpose for each storm we experience.  Sometimes he hears our cries and speaks to the wind and rain and saves us from capsizing.  Other times he remains quiet.  He doesn't stop the storm, but allows it to fully envelop our lives- and in some cases-  bring death.  He hasn't left us, and he isn't intending evil or harm to us, but he knows what we have yet to know.  He sees the victory after death.  He knows the path to freedom, peace, and true faith will only come through the pain of persecution, sorrow, and death.

And he never leaves us.  He never turns his face from us.  He is right there in the middle of all the chaos.  He is the calm in our storm.

Isaiah 43:1-2

"Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and you pass through the rivers will not sweep over you.  When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze."

It's Been A Good One...

I could hear the squeals and giggles traveling down the hallway this morning.  The kids were awake on their first day of Christmas break.  Joel offered to get up and take care of breakfast.  I started thinking about making the coffee.  Then, before we jumped up to start the day, we remembered that my parents were downstairs ready to attend to the needs of our children.  Relieved, we rolled over and drifted back to sleep.

As I lay there, eyes closed, I began to reflect on the past year.  My thoughts lingered upon, and recounted,  all the blessings God has poured out on my family.  As the list grew, tears filled my eyes and spilled down my cheeks.  Overwhelmed by his graciousness, his faithfulness, and his mercy, I whispered a faint "Thank you" to the One who has made all things complete.  To the One who heard my spoken and unspoken prayers and pleas - to the One who heard the heart behind my words - and turned his ear to me.

One year ago I struggled to find joy in the season.  I found peace and contentment in the One to whom the season belongs, but there was nothing extraordinary that marked the passing year.  Thankful for God's faithfulness, I wrapped up the year realizing that God was good even without a lot of fan-fair and magic.  Looking ahead to 2010, I honestly had no big expectations.  I never dreamed that so much could change in one year.

One year ago, I was simply grateful for the mercy and grace God extended to me.  A year later, I continue to be grateful for God's mercy and grace.  This year, however, I have seen that God not only gives us joy in difficulties, or hope in dire circumstances, but he also seasons our lives with moments of unbridled happiness.

Happiness oftentimes gets a bad wrap because it is contingent upon our circumstances.  We are taught that the joy of the Lord is of greater value than fleeting moments of happiness.  Yet, this year has revealed to me something quite contrary.  God allows us to feel happy...genuinely happy...because he is that kind of loving Father.  He allows us to go through hard times, difficult seasons, and painful experiences, so that the depth of our faith is substantial and sound, and our joy is complete in God and God alone.  However, he doesn't forget that a dose of happiness every now and then is as equally satisfying and fulfilling as a joyful disposition.  When my kids wake up on Christmas morning, eyes bulging from the pile of gifts and treasures under our tree, I take great delight in their uninhibited happiness.  God is the same way.  When happy moments come, and we enjoy them fully, I believe he, too, sits back and smiles with delight.

This year, I am feeling overwhelmed with not only the peace that passes understanding that God has poured into my heart, but I am bursting at the seams with sheer happiness.  God has not only satisfied my needs this year, but he has also satisfied the desires of my heart.  Today I am reflecting upon and enjoying these happy moments.

One year.  One God.  One moment to say thank you to the One from whom ALL blessings flow.

Peace On Earth

We decorated for Christmas last week.  In my mind I had envisioned Nat King Cole's Christmas album playing in the background, the scent of hot apple cider wafting through the house, and my darling children giggling with excitement as I handed them their tree ornaments to place - gingerly - upon our tree.  I wanted to take pictures.  I wanted to document this marvelous moment of family bonding for all the world to see. Needless to say, as boxes whizzed by my head and poor baby Jesus lost his swaddle, Christmas decorating at my house was a hurricane of garland, bows and nativity scenes.  Our tree now sits at a lovely 45 degree angle.  Once little hands were added to the holiday decorating mix it was all over.  A Christmas whirlwind blew through my home.  And I survived.  Without pictures.

Christmas is marvelous, with or without the warm fuzzy daydreams of a hopeful mom.  It is that time of year when anticipation and wonder fills the hearts and minds of children and adults alike.  We believe in miracles.  We believe in peace on earth.  But...the holiday, the festivities, the lights and carols only create a temporary illusion of peace.  When December is over, and down come the tinsel and garland, the magic evaporates into thin air.

And then...for those seeking inner peace, joy, and happiness...what comes next?  Perhaps a New Year's party?  Or spring vacation and a week at the beach?  Or maybe buying something new?  Something to fill the void of the soul.  A void that will grow deeper and wider with time.  And no matter how much we search for peace in those fleeting moments of perfection, the void remains.

If we can point to a thing, a place, a person or day and give it credit for peace, then we are hanging our hopes on things that will vanish or disappoint us.  And always, we will be left with a longing.

Peace doesn't come wrapped up with a bow.  Peace, as much as I'd like to believe, doesn't last in a picture perfect family moment.  Peace isn't about moments at all.  Peace - the kind that surpasses understanding, circumstances, financial strain, sickness, or death - comes from Jesus.  As long as we are searching the world over for those tiny peeks at joy and happiness we will miss knowing a Savior who doesn't necessarily shield us from life, but steadies and holds us up through the storm.  Peace on earth begins with peace on the inside.  And that peace comes from Jesus Christ.

As I wake up on these short days in December, before my family has regained consciousness from their warm, winter's slumber, I snuggle into my little spot in front of my perfectly crooked Christmas tree.  I treasure the fact that not all moments in my life will be peaceful.  But I know I can have peace in every moment that I live.  Centered in the peace that passes understanding.

Luke 2:14 "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests."

John 14:27 Peace I leave with you; peace I give you.  I do not give to you as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

Philippians 4:7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Peace on earth.

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow...Miraculous!

A friend of mine has been going through a difficult season.  It seemed that when things couldn't quite possibly get worse, well...they did.  Two days ago God did a miracle in her life.  He not only answered a prayer that would effect her present circumstances, but he took care of past issues that were holding her captive and even went so far as to insure the future need was already met.  He answered my friend's prayer completely.  He met her need from yesterday, supplied for today, and gave her hope for the future.  That is miraculous.  That, to me, is God doing what God does best.  My friend will have plenty to share around her Thanksgiving table this year. I was concerned my last post might have been a bit too extreme.  Then, my dear friend shared her miracle with me and I thought to myself, "That's what I'm talking about!"  That's it!  Now, to be sure, my friend has been going through a long desert season.  This answer didn't come without months of tears shed, laying her heart and soul at the feet of Christ.  How, when, and why God moves and works in our circumstances is not for us to know, or even understand. God is a mystery, and many times what he wills and allows does not make sense to us.  But I am encouraged that, even if it takes my entire life, God will complete the work he began.  The prayers offered with a sincere heart do not fall on deaf ears.  He knows.  He cares.  And he is working in unseen realms to finish what he started.  He takes care of yesterday, today, and tomorrow.  He is a miraculous God.

I love Thanksgiving.  I love hearing about what God is doing in the lives of others.  I am encouraged in my faith when I hear others boast about what the Lord has done for them.  On that note, it is your turn to share what God has done for you.  What are you thankful for today?  What are you believing God to complete in your life?  Share as much, or little, as you would like!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Complete

There are difficult seasons of life that God, in his sovereignty, allows us to walk through.  Loss, depression, fear, or sickness, they sneak up and shake the ground beneath us.  In moments of faith and clarity we speak beyond our circumstances and look to the hope that awaits us.  But sometimes those seasons last longer than we expected.  They linger.  They outstay their welcome, and we begin to wonder- uncomfortably shifting in our position of faith-  if perhaps there will be no end to the night.  We acknowledge that God is our Savior and that he can do all things, but maybe he has no intention of moving this particular mountain from our way.  Maybe this is as good as it will ever get.  We trudge along, living heavy lives with unmet expectations.  

I am certain we can all agree that every good and perfect gift comes from our Heavenly Father.  I have only to look upon the precious faces of my three little ones and there is no doubt in my mind that this is true.  Looking back on all the ways God has provided for my family, spared us grief and heartache, and walked alongside us through difficulties over this past year, I am confident that my God takes care of me.  My God cares.  However, dissatisfaction has been growing over the past few months.  At first, this lack of satisfaction was directed towards God.  While he has answered some of my prayers, there were always loose ends that never seemed to be taken care of.  I thought God was a God who not only answered prayer, but also took care of the details.  Without sounding like an ingrate, I was really expecting more from God.  As the dissatisfaction grew, my heart became more and more stirred to look at the way I was praying and to what degree of faith I was believing.  It didn't take long for me to realize that it wasn't God who was neglecting to tie up the loose ends and complete the answer.  Rather, it was my lack of faith that God could really answer my prayers completely.  I was only believing for a piece-mealed answer instead of believing for a full-fledged miracle.  And I will admit, I have lived out this small and cynical faith most of my life.

God is the God of the complete.  He is not the God of half-hearted answers.  He doesn't throw us a bone every now and then in order to keep us loosely tethered to his side.  God is the God who promises to deliver us, and that deliverance is final.  God is the God that promised to provide and supply all of our needs, and the supply he brings is an abundant one, overflowing.  God is the God who heals and leaves no trace of sickness behind.  God is the God of completion.

My faith has been about as big as the answers I've been given, and I believe God is stirring my heart to a bigger more adventurous kind of faith.  A faith that believes in complete answers.  A faith that believes in a complete God.

Judges 6:16 "The Lord answered, 'I will be with you, and you will strike down all the Midianites together.'"  God was speaking to Gideon, who was a lot like me in the faith department, and exhorting him that when Gideon stepped out to fight, God would complete the battle.  It wouldn't be a piece-mealed victory.  It would be a complete victory.

I Chronicles 16:11,12 "Look to the Lord and his strength; seek His face always.  Remember the wonders he has done, his miracles and the judgements he pronounced."

Isaiah 45:2-3 "I will go before you and will level the mountains; I will break down gates of bronze and cut through bars of iron.  I will give you the treasures of darkness, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons you by name."

Matthew 17:20-21 "I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move.  Nothing will be impossible for you."

I am believing for a complete answer to prayer.  I am placing my faith, not in what I can understand or conceptualize, but in a God who promises to do a complete work.  I am believing that God is the God of completion, and I am waiting in expectation.

So, what about those seasons of unmet expectations?  What about those years of God's silence?

God allows us to drink the bitter waters of pain, sorrow, loss, and silence for one reason, and that is so we may be able to give God the glory when the sweet springs of restoration and healing pour into and then out of our lives.  Nothing happens to us, or in us, that hasn't first passed through the hands of our Savior.  He never allows us to drink bitter waters without his permission.  And he never permits something that will not fit into the complete picture of his deliverance and answer.  Even the dark seasons serve a purpose in the completion of his victory.  And when the mountain that has blocked our way for too many years tumbles once and for all into the sea of our past, we will stand in awe of a God who has never left us, has been in constant contact, and not once took his hand from our lives.  And the glory belongs to him.

Philippians 1:6 "Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."

Believing God for bigger things.  Trusting his ways in the completion of the answer.  Never wavering, but always hoping.  And when it is done, it will be COMPLETE!

God Is Good...Really?

A few weeks ago Jackson went missing.  We couldn't find him anywhere.  He had wandered off.  An army of us went out looking for him, and with every step I took I found myself praying, screaming out his name, and wondering if this was it. If this would be the "big one".  You know, the story that defines my life, the detour from my set path, the heartache that would either drive me to God or away from God.  Because I was wrapped up in pursuit of my son, I did not track how many minutes went by from the moment we realized Jackson was missing to the moment my eyes caught a glimpse of him way off in the distance.  I was told it was somewhere around 18-20 minutes. When Joel and I found Jackson, a huge wave of relief came over me.  I couldn't even walk.  I had to sit down.  I needed to breathe.  Adrenaline and fear, desperate pleas to God and terror, nearly sucked the life right out of me.  Touching, holding, and kissing my son was surreal.  And I thanked God with a shaky voice and shaky hands.  Over and over and over again, gratitude and thanksgiving spilled from my lips like a waterfall.  Thank you, God!  You are so good!

Later, when I was quiet and alone and had time to think and recall the events of the day, I wondered "what if".  It was bound to happen.  I couldn't help but consider what would life be like if I hadn't found Jackson?  What if he had been taken by someone?  What if he had been hit by a car?  What if...?  It isn't healthy to sit and stew on the "what if's", but I think the biggest question I had that haunted me was "What if...something bad had happened...would I still believe that God is good?"

This is the question I have been pondering for several weeks now.  It is easy to say "God is good" when life is good, or we get the answer to prayer we have been hoping for, or we get the primo parking spot at the mall, or the sun is shining, or right after we've booked tickets for vacation, or in that first sip of our favorite Starbucks indulgence.  Mmmm...God is good.  I wonder if my faith, my view of God, is perhaps a little out of whack.  I wonder if we get a little too narcissistic?  The minute one little kink in our plan arises we suddenly think the world is coming to an end.  And I wonder about those individuals who have truly experienced tragedy, and somehow, someway, have been able to utter through tears and pain that "God is good", know something about God that I don't know yet.

For days I was unable to acknowledge God's goodness because I doubted my ability to find him good if Jackson had not been found.  I honestly wondered if I could still believe God to be good had I lost my baby boy.  Then, one morning as I was reading the Word and meditating on all of these crazy thoughts I'd been having, I came across a Psalm.

Psalm 30:8-10

To you, O Lord, I called; to the Lord I cried for mercy: "What gain is there in my destruction, in my going down into the pit?  Will the dust praise you?  Will it proclaim your faithfulness?  Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me; O Lord, be my help."

It isn't that God's goodness is contingent upon circumstances.  He is good regardless of which direction my life goes.  I believe that my happy ending in finding Jackson when he was lost and nowhere to be found, was God's mercy in my life.  I can't define it.  I don't deserve it.  And I can't explain it away to someone who's pain and grief of a lost child are with them daily.  For whatever reason, only known to God, he extended mercy to me, to my family, on that day.  In the grand scheme of our story, there would be no gain from this devastation.  That doesn't mean that difficulties will never come my way, or that I am somehow excluded from the harshness of life, but this was not it. This would not be my "big one"...my one defining moment.

God had mercy.

One of the many things that I love about Psalms is that there is always an upward focus.  Regardless of circumstances, the writer looks to God, places complete trust in God and gives all praise and thanksgiving to God.  Our hope, no matter what we may be going through, is that God's goodness will see us through anything and everything that this sinful world throws our way.

The final verses of Psalm 30 says this:

You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.  O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever.

In plenty and in want, there is hope and assurance that God will take our wailing and turn it into a beautiful dance, a garment of joy and unending songs of his goodness, graciousness, mercy, and love.

Yes, God really is good.  Sometimes it doesn't feel that way, but he is.  He sees our pain, our challenges, our joys, and sorrows, and through them all, he is good.

Everything I Need

Sometimes I want something new.  Sometimes I want lots of new somethings.  Sometimes I don't even know why, there is no real necessity, but I just gotta have new stuff. I'm not going to project my weaknesses onto all of you, so I'll just assume that this is something that I alone struggle with.  (Although, something tells me that there are others who have to battle out the urge to splurge too.)

This weekend I received an e-mail from one of my favorite shopping boutiques.  Forty percent off of already marked down sale items...this weekend only.  Something leaped within me.  I need.  I want.  I must have...  These thoughts continued to monopolize my mind all through Friday.  And then again on Saturday.  I started scheming and planning out my attack on Ann Taylor Loft.  When could I steal away a few hours to shop till I dropped?  How could I finagle the finances to satisfy the consumer craving of my soul?  It seemed the only day that would remotely work out in my favor (and I would have to really squeeze it into our already over-stuffed schedule) was Sunday.  Late Sunday.  With a twinge of conviction tugging deep, deep down in my soul, I set my sights on a Sunday afternoon shopping spree.

Then, because I have to believe the Holy Spirit - who is forever looking out for my very best and could see I wasn't acknowledging His subtle nudgings - decided to speak up a little louder.  In my quiet time Sunday morning I read Psalm 23.

The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.

The first verse stopped me in my tracks.  I shall not want.

The Message translation says this: God, my Shepherd!  I don't need a thing.

Gentle, but clear, I was reminded of the abundance I have received from the Lord.  Yes, I have everything I need.  Whatever void I was feeling - emotional, spiritual or simply materialistic lust - would never be filled will a new blouse, a new sweater or a new pair of jeans.  That void, that urge to splurge, was a soul calling out for God to come and satisfy in a way that only he can.

Without shame or condemnation I turned the direction of my focus on the Shepherd, the One, who has given me everything that I need, everything that a girl could possibly want (and then some), and poured out a heart of thanksgiving and gratitude.  Rather than catch the final hours of the sale, I found rest in the peace and contentment of God's constant and complete provision.

He is everything I need, even when forty percent off is desperately calling my name.

Hide Me

For the past few weeks I've been working my way through Beth Moore's Bible study Breaking Free.  With each new day of homework a new challenge is laid out before me.  Am I willing to delve deep - to the most inner parts of my heart and soul - allowing God to open up old wounds, new hurts and daily struggles in order to walk away from this ten week study fully embracing freedom and grace?  It's not been an easy task.  I find myself longing to run and hide; hide from people, hide from uncomfortable situations, hide from the truth inside.  However, each time I feel the temptation to run in the opposite direction of true freedom and liberation, I sense the Holy Spirit gently pulling me back and whispering words of comfort to my soul.  He is urging me to stop running from the junk hidden behind walls of false peace and protection, but rather run and hide in him.  As he reveals those areas in my life that are holding me back from fearless abandonment, he also reveals to me the shadow of his wings, the covering of his presence and the peace of his protection.  There is no fear in deliverance because God is always there to watch over and hide me in his shadow.

Psalm 17:8

Keep me as the apple of your eye, hide me in the shadow of your wings.

Psalm 32:7

You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.

Psalm 91:1

He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High will abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

Wherever you are in your journey, remember, God is with you.  His eye is forever upon you.  When your feet are two steps away from running as far from your mountain as they can possibly take you, remind yourself that there is no better place to run and hide than the shadow of the One who loves you more than life itself.  His wings will hold you firm and secure, and he will protect you from unnecessary harm.  He will give you the grace and strength to face your biggest fears and conquer your mountain once and for all.  Run to him...hide in him.  Know freedom in the secret places of your soul.  Find refuge in the shadow of the Almighty.