Old Kitchen, New Kitchen (A Modern Day Parable)

Last year Scott and I remodeled our kitchen. It was loooong overdue. I'm not sure how you feel about God and kitchens, but I felt as though He was prompting me to get this project off the ground -- trust me, I did not want to! My old kitchen was all I'd know for more than twenty years. My old kitchen had been a school room for my children and the origin of many Monday morning breakfasts with them. My old kitchen was one of the only rooms in our home that looked virtually the same as it did the day we moved in. Everything was exactly where I knew it to be; I moved around easily in this sort of culinary ballet. If it ain't broke... But it was. Linoleum peeling, cabinet doors falling off with regularity, exposed floor joists, a temperamental dishwasher, and a stained Formica counter-top. I didn't care, but Scott did. He begged; he threatened. Nothing worked; I was comfortable in my broken old kitchen.

Early last year I began to think about it. The simple fact I would entertain the thought caught Scott off guard -- "Really?" From there it went to gathering ideas and sorting which elements I wanted to remain and which needed a redo. Months before, I'd wanted it all to remain! This was progress. As I thought more seriously about our remodel, I began to count the cost: nights of pizza and mornings of breakfast sandwiches while the kitchen was down; the cost of materials; workdays lost as my husband stayed home to remodel our kitchen. "Show me, God, how all of this is going to happen, if that's what You want." It was a slow, methodical process -- a walk, if you will -- until my broken old kitchen was a memory, and my new kitchen was open for business, ready to serve!

But this is not a simple story of kitchens old and new. This is a redemption story, my story. And maybe yours as well. Like my kitchen, I, too, was broken. In my brokenness, I learned to cope, to function. In my brokenness I found new ways to keep going and make things happen. In my brokenness I survived relationships and time. In my brokenness I learned to avoid or handle carefully those things that would, at the slightest touch fall apart or even harm me. My brokenness wasn't ideal, but it was comfortable, familiar. I really hated to leave it. But the truth was, I was immersed in brokenness, and unable to see what life would look like if I were made whole. Oh, I had ideas. I would look like everyone else. I'd be saccharin sweet and smiling. Everything would be "just wonderful!" I would be a doormat, and I'd wear long denim skirts and Birkenstocks, and tell everyone how my perfect, kind husband brushes my hair each night. (Okay, it was a bit twisted; but I was just not ready to be that person!)

That, though, is not usually how God works. He meets us where we are. He begins with a thought, or a change that leads to another. And time goes by and there's another. And another. And before you know it, this process has taken place. And God is in it. And suddenly, you're excited, and you're embracing the change. And you want more. And you're excited to tell others about these changes; you're excited to serve and to share and to go wherever He takes you. And if He calls you to be a pastor, you go; and if He calls you to be a taxi driver, you go. But it becomes all about Him and what He wants; and He doesn't want you broken anymore.

I look at my kitchen now. It's a far cry from what it used to be. It is eclectic with a rustic element to it. We have commercial-style fixtures, recycled cabinetry and an intentional bent toward functionality and entertaining. It is the perfect expression of who I am -- today.

Vanquished!

Somewhere in the mosquito world there is a picture of me with a headline in bold print:

WANTED: Eaten Alive!

Mosquitoes flock to me like moths to a flame, like cat hair to a sweater, like -- well, you get the idea. If there are eighty people in the room and one mosquito, that mosquito will find me and extract every drop of blood it possibly can before that corpulent little sucker (literally) collapses in euphoria on a windowsill somewhere.

The other morning I sat down at my desk and it began -- that high-pitched, weed-whacker in overdrive sound. Contrary to popular (or not so popular) belief, you can hear it coming. (see "When You Hear Nothing, Look Out!") So, there it was, humming in my ear. tzzzzzz! I swatted. And I felt its wispy little wings across my face. I swatted again. tzzzzzzz! Over to the other ear. "This is going to be a long day," I thought. tzzzzzz! tzzzzzz! In the midst of all this swatting and humming I had things to do. Phones to answer. Drivers to direct. And before I knew it, I was engrossed in what I was supposed to be doing. Several minutes later, I was making room for the next round of paperwork, and there, beneath my keyboard...

It was a beautiful sight. Vanquished! And I hadn't even been trying.

God does that sometimes. Think about your need for a Savior. Two thousand years ago, did you know you needed one? You weren't around two thousand years ago, you say? Exactly my point! Even before God sent His Son, even before Jesus died and rose again, God knew we needed a Savior. Thousands of years before we were even born provision was made, a plan was in place -- and what did we have to do to for it? Nothing! God already had it covered. Our Savior paid for each sin on the cross -- He was full propitiation; and He conquered death and rose from the tomb. Our enemy vanquished!

Now, I could have gone on swatting and dodging the humming in my head for the rest of my day, but there was no need -- my disgusting, parasitic tormentor was dead. Vanquished! And all I had to do was believe it! I didn't slay that vile beast, but I didn't go on in fear either. I accepted the beast was dead, gone, and I went about the business to which I was called.

Be blessed today and walk in the freedom that belongs to those who serve Jesus Christ our Lord!

A Penny for Your Thoughts

Can you tell me why people hate "the rich," but spend crazy money trying to win the lottery?

Jesus loved the rich. Well, sure, Jesus loved everybody; but, surely, He didn't approve of the rich, right? Wrong, He loved them. Abraham was wealthy. God rewarded Solomon with wealth. Job was wealthy before he became ultra-wealthy! Expensive gifts were presented to Jesus in childhood; pure nard valued in the tens of thousands today, was poured on Jesus' feet -- and He encouraged it! Jesus loved the rich.

Mark 10:17-27, provoked my thinking this morning. The young man that approaches Jesus is, we can assume, an achiever, an up-and-comer of his day. "What must I do?" he asks. But true discipleship is not a works-driven life; it is a life in which faith and works are two sides of the same coin, so to speak. Faith produces works which, in their implementation, grow and strengthen our faith.

"Then Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said..." (v. 21)

Just stop there for a second. This young man had it all wrong. Jesus said, "I know you know what to do, but I want you to know who you were made to be." Jesus had compassion on this young man; His heart was breaking for him. He loved him.

Scripture tells us the young man went away sad; but I don't think he was alone in his sadness. I think Jesus was sad as well.

"How hard it is for those who have riches (verse 24 says "trust in riches") to enter the kingdom of God!" (v. 23)

Where did that exclamation point come from? Do we know from the original text that Jesus was emphatic? Was it anger or judgment? Was this a "woe" kind of statement (as it is so often suggested to be)? Or  do we insert the judgment and woe, the bitter jealousy of those who have not been given great wealth?

Jesus was not filled with contempt at this young man or the money he possessed (after all, Jesus had given it to him). He was sad and righteously angry at the grip money had on this young man's life and by extension, his soul. Jesus was mourning the loss of this young man aloud, possibly, that others might see wealth for the tremendous responsibility -- even hardship -- it is; that others might love and have compassion on those with wealth.

James 3:1 tells us to be aware, those who become teachers will be judged more strictly. We understand the responsibility a teacher bears, and we esteem godly teachers as courageous givers of a precious gift. Do we consider those with money as highly? Are we praying for them as they steward their finances? that they not fall into temptation? that they continue to be gracious with the blessing God has given them? that they remain wholly God's and do not allow money to be their first love?

"It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God." (v.25)

Jesus doesn't say the rich can't or don't enter the kingdom of God. He is saying it is hard for them, and it's not necessarily a responsibility we should want or a dream we should chase. As with us all, the rich cannot do it in their own strength; but "with God all things are possible." I'm just pretty sure Jesus would want us praying for them.

And that's my two cents.

Because of the Hardness of Your Heart

In Mark 10, the Pharisees ask Jesus about divorce. Short version: He tells them it was permitted only "because of the hardness of [their] heart." God had designed marriage for one man and one woman for life, for them to become one. In their quest to do things their way, some of the Israelites had defiled their marriages. God made provision through divorce so no further sin or harm would come, mostly, with regard to wives. And even then, He did not view divorce lightly. Jesus reiterates that, though it was "permitted," that was not the design; divorce has consequences and stipulations. God wants His people to choose Him and His plan, but if they refuse, He remains their loving Father and has even taken measures to protect them from themselves!

I began to wonder how many things He had "permitted" in my life because of the hardness of my heart. How many times had I defied what I knew to be right, and God protected me from myself? How often had I gotten a glimpse of God's plan and thought, "Oh, no! That's not gonna work," and made my own way -- seemingly unchecked?

Could I have been a mother to the child that threatened my future? "[I will ] give you a future and a hope." (emphasis mine)

Is it possible I could have remained married to an adulterous husband? "For with God nothing will be impossible."

Could I have forgiven my father and had a relationship with him? "Love will cover a multitude of sins." 

What if I had gone to the Lord about my loneliness instead of seeking fulfillment in others? "He will quiet you with His love."

"Because of the hardness of my heart" I hurt someone, I murdered my child, I lost my house, I lost a relationship with my family, I suffered physical injury, I inflicted emotional pain, and I failed to realize all that God could have done in my situations. I failed to "taste and see the Lord is good; blessed is the one who trusts in Him!"

Does any hardness remain in my heart today -- hardness that keeps me from doing things exactly as God wills? Are there things I am trying to fix or avoid, or maybe just "rework" a little? What if I meet them head on with Jesus at my side? What if I meet them head on with Jesus leading the charge?

Do not allow the hardness of your heart to determine the outcome of your situation.