Are You Hungry?

What would you give for something to eat? Chances are if you're able to read this on your smartphone or tablet, or even in a library somewhere, you are not in a situation where that thought would ever cross your mind. Chances are you have access to a kitchen stocked with food, or money to purchase food at a nearby market. There are almost a billion people across the world without the necessary food required to be healthy, one-eighth of the world's population. Almost 240 million of those people are in need of immediate, life-saving action. Those are some pretty staggering statistics. Even in America, it is estimated 42 million experience food insecurity. America, where, in many neighborhoods, food markets compete for customers. Our neighborhood --an area of less than two square miles-- has four markets, two delicatessens, countless takeout restaurants, and pharmacies with aisles of snacks and non-perishables. Food is not just necessary, it's revered.

In Genesis 25, we read the account of Esau, a ruddy-skinned, hairy, and I imagine a burly sort of guy who was a hunter and outdoorsman. His twin brother, Jacob, was the polar opposite if ever there was one. Jacob stayed in his family's tent, close by his mother who loved him. Esau's father, Isaac, loved the game he so skillfully killed and brought back from his quests, and Esau, being the oldest, was entitled to his father's blessing and the birthright (privileges, status, authority, and possessions). One day, as Esau came into the tent, he smelled the food Jacob was preparing. 

"Let me gulp down some of this red red stuff, for I am famished," he ordered Jacob. That's not a typo. He said "red red stuff." Almost as though, he wasn't taking the time to identify it as stew or soup or braised meat: "It smells like food. I'm hangry. Give it to me." 

Jacob proposes a trade: Esau hands over his birthright in trade. And he does! His words to Jacob are, "I am at the point of death; why do I need a birthright?" Esau's eyes were on the moment and it cost him whatever privileges, status, authority, and possessions his father was waiting to give him. And it reminded me of me. Does it remind you of you?

When I know it would be best for me to hold my tongue-- BANG! out it comes! And I forego the peace God is longing for me to experience. When I know my neighbor is hurting and if I get involved, that's two hours of my life I'm never getting back; so I don't. And I forego the opportunity to show her how much Jesus loves her. When God tells me to give more, but I hold Him at ten percent because "that's what we're told to give." And I miss the chance for Him to show me all He is willing to do for me. When the pain is so tremendous I will do anything to avoid it, and I do; I miss the ways God wants to change me and grow our relationship. When the gift becomes that which I seek, more so than the Giver, I will never know the full birthright to which I am entitled. When the necessities of this life become the things we revere, we may know the feeling of a belly full of red red stuff, but we will also know the emptiness of life absent God's best.

Expectation and Rest

I was eavesdropping: my husband talking to our daughters.

Did you read the owner's manual on how to do that? No.

And to the other, Did you make that appointment? No.

And then, One day Daddy's not going to be here, and then what will you do? 

Normally, I would have shot him a look of approval; my husband does many things for our children, including encourage independence. Normally, I would have given a smirk and a nod, imagining their faces as the reality dawned on them. But this day, I realized just how right he is, and how much grief our girls will one day know. There was no look of approval, I didn't want him to see how I'd begun to tear up. There was no smirk or nod, just an instant dread at the thought of these girls being without their father. They have no idea how great a loss that will be, I thought.

The other morning, I was reading Luke's account of Jesus' death on the cross. Jesus was crucified between two thieves. In this day and age, stealing something doesn't seem to be that huge an offense, certainly not worth dying for. But, maybe these thieves stole from the lame or the sick; maybe these thieves assaulted their victims in the commission of their theft; maybe these thieves stole from poor defenseless old ladies who were left destitute. Maybe these thieves were the lowest of the low. But one asks Jesus to remember him, and Jesus assures him that he would be with Him in paradise. Someone whose crimes were so heinous he deserved death had the audacity to ask Jesus-- who'd been executed unjustly and was in unimaginable pain --for a pardon. And not just any pardon, a pardon with a place in Jesus' kingdom! In fact, Luke is the only author who records this interaction; the other gospel authors say both criminals mocked Jesus. How could this thief, this fool think Jesus would give him the time of day much less a place in His kingdom? Never mind his crimes which sent him to this place, what about the things he said to Jesus while he was there?

Because that's who Jesus is. As three men hung dying, hour after hour, one came to realize the innocent Man suffering beside him truly was a King, a King gracious and forgiving enough to grant him a pardon and a place. The repentant thief had no confidence in himself but had every confidence and assurance in the One who suffered alongside him. Because of Christ's character, and not because of his own, he could ask such a thing. Because of Christ's character, and not of our own, we can ask such a thing.

My husband is good to our children and to me --even when we don't deserve it. We appreciate his kindness and protection though we don't always show it. We covet his presence though we don't always stop to breathe in the moments he is with us. But, we continue to ask, we continue to expect-- not because we deserve it --because that is just who he is. To seek him is second nature because he has never let us down. We rest in his love for us and his benevolence.

As human beings, we all tend to take things for granted, to focus on the temporal and assume things will always be this way, to try to scoop up as much blessing and happiness as we can in this difficult, broken world. Although it's a nature that should be crucified daily, let's not forget how, because of our Father's love for us, our Savior's gracious nature, and the Holy Spirit's power we have the confidence to expect He will not fail us, we have the authority to ask, we have the certainty to know He will always be there. We can expect without taking for granted. We can rest in our relationship as well as give thanks for the pardon and place He so abundantly grants.

It's All About the Using

I have a hard time "peopling." I mean, I like it when I'm doing it --smiling, laughing, talking about whatever comes up in conversation, listening intently to others' stories (which, quite honestly, I love to do, but more like a sponge and less like a participant). But, when faced with the prospect I am going to have to "people" when I leave the house, it takes every ounce of Jesus to get me out that front door. And when it is time to go, I make for the car, white-knuckling it home, radio off, total silence; I barely get in the door before I am ready to shovel my way through a huge bowl of pasta or sink into the darkness and isolation of-- well, any place dark and isolated. Crazy, I know. Especially since God gave me a big smile and a ridiculous desire to express myself; I am so much more comfortable typing or putting pen to paper when it comes to that expression, however. I've read about world-famous performers who have terrible stage fright-- I'm talking, throwing up backstage stage fright --but they have a gift, and when they actually begin to use that gift alone or in front of stadium crowds, their fears leave. That's sort of how I feel. When it's happening, when I'm "peopling" it's a rush, but the before and after are agonizing.

Matthew 25:14-30, is the Parable of the Talents, as it is known. (If you click on the link, it will take you to biblegateway.com where the passage is shown in three separate versions, hopefully, for a clearer understanding.) For years I had trouble identifying the issue the master had with "one-talent guy." As someone who watched her parents take unnecessary financial risks (and suffer the consequences) burying some cash for safekeeping didn't seem like such an offense to me. But, it was never about the keeping, losing, or increasing; it was all about the using. If One-Talent Guy had tripled the cash in some sketchy, illegal Ponzi scheme, would the master have been any less irate? I don't think so. It's clear, the master had loaned them those talents for the purpose of using them and using them prudently, as his agents, to increase his franchise. Holding back was not the purpose-- regardless of One-Talent's motives.

We all have gifts. We all have those things we are great at doing or just seem to come naturally to us. Some of us have no problem waking up in the morning, putting on that gift, and going to work. Some of us need to be dragged out into life kicking and screaming, only to find that, once we are working in our gift, we are as "at home" as we were when we were truly at home. That's because they are gifts, loaned to us for the purpose of using them and using them prudently (as directed by our guide, the Holy Spirit, and God's precepts, the Word), as His agents, to increase His franchise. We are not alone in the management of those gifts and we are not powerless in the struggle to walk in them. 

So, take some activated charcoal, diffuse some lavender, call a friend for prayer-- do what you need to do --get out there and use the gifts you've been given for the glory of God!

Summer Fruit All Year

I'm not sure if it's a regional thing, but our little corner of the world has a love-hate relationship with autumn. It's pumpkin spice everything or not at all. Folks are either holding onto weekends at the Jersey shore as if they will never have another, or they've stocked up on apple cider and sweet potatoes as if a summer armageddon will overtake us and we will never see temps below 80 again. As much as I relish the idea of a world without mosquitoes and humidity, the departure of summer means the departure of summer fruit. No peaches, strawberries, blueberries, tomatoes --even sweet, delicious corn on the cob (not a fruit; yes, I know). But, we can take solace in the knowledge, each one of those little tasties arrived in our lives with seeds, and some of those seeds will sprout, and some of those sprouts will enter our life next year as plants and trees which will bear more tasties. God designed it that way, and He says so in Genesis 1:11:

"Then God said, 'Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb that yields seed, and the fruit tree that yields fruit according to its kind, whose seed is in itself, on the earth'; and it was so."

That is not a wonderful assurance that remains within the confines of our gardens. It was no accident Paul likened the characteristics of the Holy Spirit to fruit. Galatians 5:22, 23 says:

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control."

The presence of God's Spirit in the life of a believer produces, bears the fruit of, the character of God. That is the evidence of God living in us and ruling in our lives. But, here's the thing that really spoke to me this morning as I was beating myself up over all of my foibles and failures, that fruit is there for me to partake of! I'm not just a new creation, a city on a hill, salt and light, demonstrating the goodness and power of God for others; love, joy, peace, patience (longsuffering), kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control are shown to me each and every moment of the day by my Father in heaven. That fruit is mine to enjoy! When I mess up a relationship, God heals my wounds with His love and patiently walks me through the stages necessary for restoration. When I fly off the handle unnecessarily, God is faithful and will not abandon me; He sticks with me as I ask forgiveness, demonstrating His self-control that I might follow His example. When I face grief and disappointment, God is my reason to rejoice and rest; His kindness, goodness, and gentleness are of a Father, wrapping His arms around His hurting child and whispering my name, "Daughter." When the world serves up trouble, bitter and hot, God is the sweet fruit that cools and refreshes His children in their distress, planting seeds that the same fruit might be borne in us. All.Year.Long.