Wednesday, July 22, 2020

Dressed for Surrender

The other morning was beautiful -- cool, sunny, just a bit of a breeze. Ideal weather to enjoy my coffee on the deck. I hastily threw on some clothes and headed out the door. As I looked down at my ensemble, I realized how crazy it looked. Torn, worn and thoroughly faded shorts paired with a classic, almost new designer sweater. As I soaked in every minute of daybreak, I began to consider how my old, worn habits and dispositions exist right alongside (sometimes in spite of) the new nature created in me by a holy Designer. I long to humbly, sweetly surrender all God has given me and all I am in order to bring Him glory, but I cannot say I always, in all ways do. The same person who so reverently, completely worships in times of quiet, is the same person who sulks about which movie we're watching, or grumbles about the sale item that isn't available, or lays on the horn when the driver ahead should have purchased a map. The mother who urges, "Just talk to me when you're having trouble," is the same woman who strokes out when presented with a note for summer school.

The enemy loves to use such contradictions for his glory. "Everyone knows who you are," he whispers; "Everyone knows you're damaged. How can they take 'your Gospel' seriously?" Or, "You call yourself a Christian?" he asks; "You gossiped after church on Sunday! Are you sure you're even saved?" He wants you to feel hypocritical. He wants you to be ashamed, stuff your rebel heart deep down into your biker boots and deny it's there. He wants you to don that shirt and tie, polish up your image, look the part, all the while missing God's grace. Eaten up by self-condemnation or lost in your own righteous -- either end serves his ambition.

I remember a few "exclusive" restaurants from my childhood. "JACKET AND TIE REQUIRED." My dad would show up in polyester pants and a knit shirt. The maitre d would wordlessly hand him a used sport coat and outdated tie. Dad would fulfill the requirements, but everyone could tell he really didn't belong. Satan wants you to think that about your shortcomings, your failures, even your out and out sins. He tells you they cannot be fixed or forgiven. He tells you everyone can see you don't belong. Or he tells you your new jacket and tie look great -- "Love the work you've done on yourself, Kiddo! You have arrived."

But nothing is hidden from God. He can use my mistrust of authority to magnify His name as I challenge systems and advocate for those who cannot do it themselves. My inner passion for unbridled fun? God has claimed it that I might understand another's desire to walk on the wild side and steer them away from the pitfalls. The scars from my past remind me of Jesus' healing and urge me to pass that message on to others. God has used former inmates to develop successful prison ministries and atheists to teach Apologetics at Christian Universities. God can and does use the corruption of this life for His glory and our good. He is not intimidated by rough edges and apparent contradictions in us; He sees our hearts and is able to use it all or change it all. He promises beauty for ashes. Those things that appear paradoxical, God can work and weave into an amazing tapestry of glory and light for His name's sake. All the while, His Spirit works to sanctify us and transform us to more closely resemble Himself. We are not schizophrenic accidents or hypocritical pharisees; we are fearfully and wonderfully made by Almighty God, but born with sinful human natures, but redeemed by a prefect Lord and Savior, but living in a fallen world. 

Our surrender to His work is key, however. In humility and honesty, we must bring all we have before the Lord and acknowledge Him as King over all. We must lay our trash before Him that He might repurpose it all for Kingdom treasure. We must stand before Him, just as we are -- in shorts, or sweaters, or both -- and be His, surrendered to His design. 

Sunday, July 19, 2020

Heaven on Earth

One year ago today, our church lost a titan of faith and gentle friend. Many people miss her deeply. Many people rejoice because she is with her Lord and Savior. And, I'm sure, there are some who are jealous as well -- like me. She knows so much more right now than she could ever have known on this side of Eternity! She has answers to some of the questions she had; she has answers to some of the questions I have. She is in a fellowship so deep right now, those of us here can only catch glimmers once in a while. Oh, glory! To be face to face with The King!

That is where my mind is today -- thinking about my proximity to Jesus and longing to be as close to Him as I can possibly be. Just this week I was talking to a friend. "I don't want to miss it," I said. This has been my prayer for so long. I'm not talking about the rapture. I'm not talking about some run to perfection, obeying every rule. I'm not afraid that I'm not saved. I mean I don't want to miss the fullness of Jesus, the apex of my relationship with Him (as much as is possible) -- today. If life in this world is simply a hope for heaven, why are we here? If heaven is my endgame, I should have been there the moment "my ear was pierced" and I became a bondservant of Jesus Christ. And would heaven even be heaven if Jesus wasn't there? The point of my life -- here and in heaven -- is God. Westminster Shorter Catechism asks, "What is the chief end of man?" and answers, "Man's chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever." Forever, not later. From the moment we existed, it was our intended purpose to be in relationship with Jesus, to know Him fully, to serve Him with all He endowed and blessed us, and to find pleasure and fulfillment in that. I don't want to miss that!

In John 21, the disciples had been out fishing all night. They caught nothing. At daybreak, Jesus stands on the shore and calls to them, but they don't recognize Him. A Man they'd spent the greater part of three years walking with, talking with, eating with, traveling with -- hearing Him speak day after day - and they don't know His voice, they don't recognize His form. As soon as they obey His command and see the blessing He pours out on them, they know. They know His goodness. They know His power. And they react. John cries out. Peter jumps in. The remaining disciples follow with an abundance of fish. Knowledge of the presence of God and their reaction to it.

That's where I want to be. I want to see Him in as many places as I can, as many ways as I can. I want my visioned sharpened so I don't miss Him in the color of another's skin or the swell of a fat, juicy Summer tomato. I want my ears pricked at the sweet song of one of His birds or my husband's booming voice. I want my skin to tremble at the caress of a lazy breeze or the warmth of a child's hand in mine. I want my taste buds to sing at the sweet nectar of a honeysuckle bloom or awaken at the fiery snap of a hot pepper fresh off the stem. I want the sweet aroma of rain and the smell of my dog's fur to bring His name to my lips and His goodness to my thoughts. And I want to react accordingly.

With exclamation. "Thank You, Lord, for all You give and do!"

With a plunge. Leaving all else behind and immersing myself in the experience, to draw near my Lord.

With hard work. Reaping the harvest, coming to Him with all He has given me.

Heaven on earth. I don't want to miss it.