Thank you, God, that you allow us to serve you, allow us to praise you, allow us to petition you. Forgive me for being embarrassed, busy, tired, ungrateful because I am so arrogant -- thinking that I am doing something good, something sacrificial by giving you my time. Thak you that you are the Giver of time, the Giver of every good and perfect gift. Thank you that you not only forgive us our trespasses, refine us, call us, welcome our praises, bless us, delight in us, give us the desires of our hearts, know us, sing over us, protect us and give us peace, but you love us enough to have sacrificed your most precious Son just so we -- the arrogant -- can enter your presence, so we -- the filthy -- can be made white as snow, so we -- the incompetent -- can be equipped to serve you, so we -- the unmerited -- can have relationship with you. And have it not because we have ever desired it, but because YOU DO!
Can I get an AMEN?!
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Saturday, December 3, 2011
A Wedding Invitation
People don't always see others for what they are. When I first met my husband, he was full of bitterness and attitude -- MAJOR attitude. I pegged him for spoiled, demanding, miserable, and intolerant. I was right. But what I hadn't seen was a man who loves his children, who struggles to be a man in a society that frowns on authority and strength of character, and a man who'd been betrayed.
When Scott met me, he saw me as beautiful. Despite my worn out look, my mood swings and my attitude -- MAJOR attitude -- he could look past those things and into my heart. He saw the mother who loved her children, who struggled to make ends meet, who's fatigue and short answers were merely a symptom of the day to day conflict in which she was engaged.
Scott rescued me. As God was changing my heart, Scott was changing my circumstances. He showed me what it meant for a father to love his children; I began to know God as my Father. He explained things from a man's point of view; I learned to love with God's heart although others are different. He taught me how a good husband loves his bride; I began to see the love of Christ for His bride, the church -- the body of believers.
Jeremiah 3:14 -- "I am married unto you."
Imagine, if you will, the groom who waits expectantly at the front of the church for his bride, clothed in spotless white to join him. To him, she is the most beautiful one on whom he has ever rested his eyes. To him, she is purity and light. He has worked just to meet her, and will continue to work to keep her. He has pulled her up to know just how precious she is to him. He will cherish her. He will share her sorrows and joys. He will protect her. He will never leave her. He provides for her. He shares whatever wealth he has with her. He will give her a new name -- his own. Nothing but death will separate him from her.
The church of Christ is His bride. But unlike the mortal union that is marriage, death is no wedge between Jesus and His bride. In heaven, Jesus and His bride will celebrate their blessed bond. A bond in which the bride and groom have been conformed to one heart.
I see Scott very differently now. I see him as the one who was not ignorant to my imperfections, but chose to see me with loving eyes. I see him as a hero to his children and me, and a servant to God. I see him as the one who's love brought the pages of God's Word to life for me -- a living example of the Husband, Christ.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Are We Even Speaking the Same Language?
Four years of high school Spanish and I can ask for the bathroom, identify a seahorse, and correctly name six of the seven days of the week. So when Christine told me last year that she wanted to take French, I knew it was time for Rosetta Stone. Six months later she was still screaming, "I HATE this stupid thing!" in English. Apologetics it is, then. Knowing her plans to go away to school next year, I figured it could only help.
We are currently talking about some of the religions that have taken hold in America -- Islam being one of them -- and what appears on TLC, but "All-American Muslim," a new series which premiered last night! In the first episode, an Irish Catholic man was converting to Islam in order to marry a Muslim woman; by admission, she does not adhere to Islam's strict practices, and based on the discussion with his mother, his conversion is more of an issue of tradition than eternal destiny. In one scene, Jeff the groom-to-be is speaking with his future father-in-law about his conversion. His fiancee's father says, "You are not renouncing anything, only adding to it." One of the greatest lessons taught in the Garden of Eden is that the best lies are those closest to the truth. Isn't this what any person making a difficult decision wants to hear? "Relax, you can have your cake and eat it, too. It's a minor adjustment."
First of all, the "shahada" offered by converts (and by Jeff in last night's episode) is "There is no God but Allah. Muhammad is the messenger of Allah," or something very similar. That in and of itself is exclusive -- "no other." Stating there can be no other, forsaking and renouncing any that have had Allah's place before. And The One True God? What does He say? Exodus 20:5: "Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the LORD thy God am a jealous God..." He's not looking for any competition, nor is there any worthy of competing with Him. The act of claiming any other god to be God, or to share the throne of heaven with Him, is renouncing God Almighty -- Jehovah. God will not, cannot share His throne.
Secondly, adding? Is God the Creator one who is in need of supplement? "And God saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was very good." (Gen. 1:31a) Is God's grace or power insufficient? "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.'" (2 Cor. 2:19a) Is God's Word out dated? "All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness," (2 Timothy 3:16) Is God's Word not enough? "You shall not add to the word that I command you, nor take from it, that you may keep the commandments of the LORD your God that I command you." (Deut. 4:2)
Lastly, and probably most importantly, Allah is not the God of the Bible; Allah is not Jehovah. Without fumbling my way through a lesson on Islam, in which I am woefully inadequate, and taking up even more of your precious time, I know this much -- we are not speaking the same language. Allah is not a trinity. According to the Qur'an (sura 19:88-92) Allah has no son; it is a monstrous allegation and at it, the entire earth rises up in protest. Allah "loveth not transgressors," (sura 2:190), but 1 John 4:8 tells us "Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love." If Allah does not even know God -- Jehovah -- how can he be God? In Islam, there is no substitute for the sacrifice that sin requires, just the hope that one's deeds will be enough to garner eternity in paradise; sin is not eradicated, ransom paid in full, but merely covered, forgiven by a completely sovereign deity who does not promise paradise beyond a shadow of a doubt to anyone -- Islamic teaching is always followed "with the hope" of entering paradise. All is subject to the will of Allah.
When faced with the rhetoric of those who deny The One True God and preach syncretism as a politically correct way for us to "co-exist," I'll rely on the truth spoken by The Rock Eternal. "Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:6)
We are currently talking about some of the religions that have taken hold in America -- Islam being one of them -- and what appears on TLC, but "All-American Muslim," a new series which premiered last night! In the first episode, an Irish Catholic man was converting to Islam in order to marry a Muslim woman; by admission, she does not adhere to Islam's strict practices, and based on the discussion with his mother, his conversion is more of an issue of tradition than eternal destiny. In one scene, Jeff the groom-to-be is speaking with his future father-in-law about his conversion. His fiancee's father says, "You are not renouncing anything, only adding to it." One of the greatest lessons taught in the Garden of Eden is that the best lies are those closest to the truth. Isn't this what any person making a difficult decision wants to hear? "Relax, you can have your cake and eat it, too. It's a minor adjustment."
First of all, the "shahada" offered by converts (and by Jeff in last night's episode) is "There is no God but Allah. Muhammad is the messenger of Allah," or something very similar. That in and of itself is exclusive -- "no other." Stating there can be no other, forsaking and renouncing any that have had Allah's place before. And The One True God? What does He say? Exodus 20:5: "Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the LORD thy God am a jealous God..." He's not looking for any competition, nor is there any worthy of competing with Him. The act of claiming any other god to be God, or to share the throne of heaven with Him, is renouncing God Almighty -- Jehovah. God will not, cannot share His throne.
Secondly, adding? Is God the Creator one who is in need of supplement? "And God saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was very good." (Gen. 1:31a) Is God's grace or power insufficient? "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.'" (2 Cor. 2:19a) Is God's Word out dated? "All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness," (2 Timothy 3:16) Is God's Word not enough? "You shall not add to the word that I command you, nor take from it, that you may keep the commandments of the LORD your God that I command you." (Deut. 4:2)
Lastly, and probably most importantly, Allah is not the God of the Bible; Allah is not Jehovah. Without fumbling my way through a lesson on Islam, in which I am woefully inadequate, and taking up even more of your precious time, I know this much -- we are not speaking the same language. Allah is not a trinity. According to the Qur'an (sura 19:88-92) Allah has no son; it is a monstrous allegation and at it, the entire earth rises up in protest. Allah "loveth not transgressors," (sura 2:190), but 1 John 4:8 tells us "Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love." If Allah does not even know God -- Jehovah -- how can he be God? In Islam, there is no substitute for the sacrifice that sin requires, just the hope that one's deeds will be enough to garner eternity in paradise; sin is not eradicated, ransom paid in full, but merely covered, forgiven by a completely sovereign deity who does not promise paradise beyond a shadow of a doubt to anyone -- Islamic teaching is always followed "with the hope" of entering paradise. All is subject to the will of Allah.
When faced with the rhetoric of those who deny The One True God and preach syncretism as a politically correct way for us to "co-exist," I'll rely on the truth spoken by The Rock Eternal. "Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:6)
Friday, November 4, 2011
Choosing Freedom
As a child, I don't remember talking about feelings very much. Talking about feelings made you vulnerable, and in our house, vulnerable was never something you wanted to be. I remember writing. Writing helped me put on paper all the thoughts swirling around in my head -- things I thought I'd never be able to speak out loud.
As the story of my parents unfolded, I realized the more I heard, the less I knew. It was a story shrouded in vague answers and circumvented truths. I grew up choosing sides. My mother knitted Christmas stockings, and baked cupcakes for homeroom; my mother talked to the old folks at the nursing home. My mother would cry as dinner dried out in the oven, waiting for Dad to come home. I chose Mom's side.
Two years ago this month, my father stepped into glory. His death has done more for me spiritually than any other single event in my life, and I doubt he'd mind my saying that.
Truthfully, I expected his death to release me from bondage, a bondage I had known since childhood -- the bondage of a little girl trying so desperately to win her father's affection through any means possible. It didn't. My father's death did not release me from anything, but Jesus did.
I write to you now, ashamed -- ashamed to say that all my years in Christian school, in Christian counselling, attending a Christian church... I spent them all in bondage because I chose bondage! I went to my father's bedside shortly before he died. I wanted to tell him how God had blessed me with a wonderful husband, a fantastic family and a rich life. I wanted him to make his last days with his family count for more than a cheap suit on Sunday morning and aloofness by Sunday night. I wanted him to give me some heirloom of wisdom or hope that I could carry with me when he was gone. I wanted to be there for him as he lay dying; to walk him to the throne room of his Heavenly Father. All my expectations of a Hallmark moment left me sitting in my truck crying, hyperventilating and banging my fist on the steering wheel. Bound by my ego, bound by my expectations, and bound by the idea that I was somehow less than I could be, because my father would never live up to those expectations.
At his memorial service, I sat there with the assurance my father was happily in heaven. I listened as others testified what a blessing my father had been to them. I listened as others spoke of the father I never knew. And then, I did know...
My father's testimony may not have included me or others of his family, and though he hae to answer for that, it does not mean he had no testimony at all. Others tell me he had a heart for God. I find comfort in that, for I often worried if he had a heart at all. I am not his judge. I was never promised a champion for a father; I've never been entitled to a "Dad." But when I pray to my Heavenly Father I know the One who answers exceeds all my expectations, has lovingly and wisely created me, and today directs my paths.
As the story of my parents unfolded, I realized the more I heard, the less I knew. It was a story shrouded in vague answers and circumvented truths. I grew up choosing sides. My mother knitted Christmas stockings, and baked cupcakes for homeroom; my mother talked to the old folks at the nursing home. My mother would cry as dinner dried out in the oven, waiting for Dad to come home. I chose Mom's side.
Two years ago this month, my father stepped into glory. His death has done more for me spiritually than any other single event in my life, and I doubt he'd mind my saying that.
Truthfully, I expected his death to release me from bondage, a bondage I had known since childhood -- the bondage of a little girl trying so desperately to win her father's affection through any means possible. It didn't. My father's death did not release me from anything, but Jesus did.
I write to you now, ashamed -- ashamed to say that all my years in Christian school, in Christian counselling, attending a Christian church... I spent them all in bondage because I chose bondage! I went to my father's bedside shortly before he died. I wanted to tell him how God had blessed me with a wonderful husband, a fantastic family and a rich life. I wanted him to make his last days with his family count for more than a cheap suit on Sunday morning and aloofness by Sunday night. I wanted him to give me some heirloom of wisdom or hope that I could carry with me when he was gone. I wanted to be there for him as he lay dying; to walk him to the throne room of his Heavenly Father. All my expectations of a Hallmark moment left me sitting in my truck crying, hyperventilating and banging my fist on the steering wheel. Bound by my ego, bound by my expectations, and bound by the idea that I was somehow less than I could be, because my father would never live up to those expectations.
At his memorial service, I sat there with the assurance my father was happily in heaven. I listened as others testified what a blessing my father had been to them. I listened as others spoke of the father I never knew. And then, I did know...
My father's testimony may not have included me or others of his family, and though he hae to answer for that, it does not mean he had no testimony at all. Others tell me he had a heart for God. I find comfort in that, for I often worried if he had a heart at all. I am not his judge. I was never promised a champion for a father; I've never been entitled to a "Dad." But when I pray to my Heavenly Father I know the One who answers exceeds all my expectations, has lovingly and wisely created me, and today directs my paths.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Got Any Spare Change?
Matthew 2:19-23
19 After Herod died, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt 20 and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel, for those who were trying to take the child’s life are dead.”
21 So he got up, took the child and his mother and went to the land of Israel. 22 But when he heard that Archelaus was reigning in Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. Having been warned in a dream, he withdrew to the district of Galilee, 23 and he went and lived in a town called Nazareth. So was fulfilled what was said through the prophets, that he would be called a Nazarene.
So when, exactly, did God change His mind? If Jesus was prophesied as a Nazarene, why the extra step, a false alarm to rise and return to Israel?
1 Samuel 15:29
He who is the Glory of Israel does not lie or change his mind; for he is not a human being, that he should change his mind.
If God does not change His mind, if God was not outsmarted by Herod's son ascending the throne after him, what was this?
Isaiah 55:8-9
8 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the LORD.
9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the LORD.
9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
I don't presume to know the mind of God; all I can attest is what I have experienced personally, or what God has provided all of us in the Scriptures. I do know God has "geared me up," so to speak, to face one event, and has led me onto an entirely different path. Is this because of choices I made in the interim? Perhaps. Is this because the actions of others have had some impact on how things developed? I'm not sure. Was it some sort of heavenly test? a dry run? I can't say. But the way in which I meet each calling, and the disappointment, confusion or relief I experience when things turn out differently than I expect, change me, change who I am, and change my relationship with my Heavenly Father.
God has called us to be faithful. To pray. To boldly approach His throne. To ask that it may be given. To seek and know Him.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Oh, Brother!
The shh-tic-tic of Bishop's paws on the hardwoods next to our bed. The short trek to the back door, only to find it's raining big, floppy, cold drops; there's no way he's going out in that. Burrowing back into bed between sheets that have by this time begun to grow cold.
All of it enough to flip the throttle of my slightly warped, always active mind, over to "FULL." Or, as one of my favorite childhood heroes used to say, "My Spidey-senses are tingling." Despite having gone to sleep only four short hours ago. The reason for this sudden insomnia? Less than twelve hours ago, we were preparing to leave my "nephew's" wedding -- a nephew I never knew until my father's death in 2009. This is where my story begins.
My father had been married before he and my mother were married. A simple, so-what sort of explanation far too common in this day and age. Given the circumstances, the "players" involved, and the convoluted stuff cheesy stories are made of, yeah, it kinda was a big deal, but I share it with others, so I won't lay it all out there, so to speak.
I don't remember ever not knowing I had other siblings. As a child, I would wonder what my "big brothers" were like; there were two. Particularly, when my little brother -- the one I shared both parents with -- was getting on my nerves, I would imagine trading him in for a brother I could really look up to; figuratively and literally, I guess.
When my father passed a couple of years ago, I finally met my younger older brother. Looking into his eyes was for me, like looking into the eyes of my father -- something I'd never been able to do. Talking with him was reminiscent of some of the theological discussions my father and I would have when I was a teenager -- sometimes because of his great knowledge of Scripture, sometimes because the uncomfortable silence would gnaw at me and it was my "go-to" for finding some common ground between us. But this? This was different. This was another piece of a puzzle, gently locking into place; this was a different kind of brother than the one of whom I had dreamed.
Two years later, less than a day ago, right smack in the middle of a mad dash to the parking lot to grab gum from the truck, so I could meet some folks without actually breathing coffee into their faces, and...
Number One Brother steps from between two chairs and introduces himself. Wow! (BTW, I'd considered calling him older older brother, but wisely I think, abandoned that point of reference.) So how does it feel? Still processing that one, but here's what I've got so far...
Superficially, I am amazed at the similarities in mannerisms and facial expressions; things heredity doesn't seem to explain.
Profoundly, I have been blessed with two great brothers and their families. Half-brothers as a result of biology, but they are brothers in Christ -- a facet I consider to be of far more significance. If shared genes, or curiosity, or common invitations never draw us to relationship again, I hope a mutual love of Our Lord and Savior will.
All of it enough to flip the throttle of my slightly warped, always active mind, over to "FULL." Or, as one of my favorite childhood heroes used to say, "My Spidey-senses are tingling." Despite having gone to sleep only four short hours ago. The reason for this sudden insomnia? Less than twelve hours ago, we were preparing to leave my "nephew's" wedding -- a nephew I never knew until my father's death in 2009. This is where my story begins.
My father had been married before he and my mother were married. A simple, so-what sort of explanation far too common in this day and age. Given the circumstances, the "players" involved, and the convoluted stuff cheesy stories are made of, yeah, it kinda was a big deal, but I share it with others, so I won't lay it all out there, so to speak.
I don't remember ever not knowing I had other siblings. As a child, I would wonder what my "big brothers" were like; there were two. Particularly, when my little brother -- the one I shared both parents with -- was getting on my nerves, I would imagine trading him in for a brother I could really look up to; figuratively and literally, I guess.
When my father passed a couple of years ago, I finally met my younger older brother. Looking into his eyes was for me, like looking into the eyes of my father -- something I'd never been able to do. Talking with him was reminiscent of some of the theological discussions my father and I would have when I was a teenager -- sometimes because of his great knowledge of Scripture, sometimes because the uncomfortable silence would gnaw at me and it was my "go-to" for finding some common ground between us. But this? This was different. This was another piece of a puzzle, gently locking into place; this was a different kind of brother than the one of whom I had dreamed.
Two years later, less than a day ago, right smack in the middle of a mad dash to the parking lot to grab gum from the truck, so I could meet some folks without actually breathing coffee into their faces, and...
Number One Brother steps from between two chairs and introduces himself. Wow! (BTW, I'd considered calling him older older brother, but wisely I think, abandoned that point of reference.) So how does it feel? Still processing that one, but here's what I've got so far...
Superficially, I am amazed at the similarities in mannerisms and facial expressions; things heredity doesn't seem to explain.
Profoundly, I have been blessed with two great brothers and their families. Half-brothers as a result of biology, but they are brothers in Christ -- a facet I consider to be of far more significance. If shared genes, or curiosity, or common invitations never draw us to relationship again, I hope a mutual love of Our Lord and Savior will.
Friday, October 28, 2011
The Way
This road I am on is not my own. While it has been given me to travel, one day I will be forced to reckon with what I have or have not done while moving toward its end. My reward will not come because I have travelled many miles or few. My prize will not be given because the road has been exceptionally difficult or blessedly smooth. This road is a gift, a gift which I must pass on to those I meet along the way; a gift I am called to share with those who do not yet know The Way. When I reach the end of this road I will stand alone before the One has given me this gift, My Heavenly Father. He will ask, "Who have you invited to follow you?"
"I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life; no man comes unto the Father except through me." ~ Jesus Christ
"I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life; no man comes unto the Father except through me." ~ Jesus Christ
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
