Purple's Place

Trouble With Bossing

2011-01-07T20:27:00.000-08:00

Perhaps it is one of the perks that comes at this grade level, but certain seven- and eight-year-olds (at least the variety with whom I deal) sometimes have it in mind that it is their sacred obligation to inform others of what they are doing wrong. When the issue came to a head the other day, we hunkered in for a class meeting about how to stop micro-managing classmates. Some of the kids were able to brainstorm that there may at least be more polite ways of directing their peers. Others suggested that saying nothing would be better still. And yet, when the inevitable had to be pointed out, there were kids who were ready for the message.

For it was one thing to illustrate that there's an inherent "power-tripping" in the bossing, a desire to control another and so exert prideful force; but it was a totally new message to some that the direct opposite of bossing is actually serving.

For, when all is concluded, serving is the hallmark of love. Or rather, it is the tangible demonstration of a will that is set on benefiting another; the outward manifestation of a determined volition that no shame is too high a cost, no rupture from one's own plans too grievous a penalty, and no amount of distress too unreasonable an imposition, if there might be added to its intended beneficiary even the slightest degree of good.

It is the form of giving which is set on foot-washing and bowing down; not seeking control over another, but desiring fully to be a simple blessing, in being and in might. It is the status of readiness, willing at every opportunity to lunge at even the smallest avenue by which to demonstrate the good will meant toward its recipient. It is the epitome of selflessness, which gives heed only to the nature and neediness of the one who will enjoy its labors; it is the grace toward a fellow being which cares not for its own preferences, but counts it a glad victory to see that the other's needs are satisfied, until it is not a matter of doing good, but of being the good of the other. In every sense, it is the truest condition of yielding, so as to express with utmost clarity, precise in word and deed, the state of being for the other person.

If "bossing" demarcates the grossness of self-centered assertion, then serving is the purest, most concentrated substance there is by which one can profess, with a humility of heart more disarming than coercion, that no hindrance could grieve love into forfeiture, no hardship could garner from it failure, and no heartache could galvanize its flight.

"For love is as strong as death... Many waters cannot quench love, nor will rivers overflow it..." (Song 8:6-7)

Photosensitive

2010-12-23T14:16:00.000-08:00

It's fascinating how much of photography is determined by light alone. The art itself, literally defined as "writing with light," is so heavily composed of the interplay of shadow and sun that even color is completely ineffectual in enhancing a photo if there is no good contrast from the onset.

A little further in, the definition of photography hits on the method more succinctly: "the art or process of producing images of objects on photosensitive surfaces." Incredible to think that there are surfaces designed for the sole intent of absorbing light so that an image may emerge.

Yet that is God's design for us. He says in Jeremiah 31:33, "'But this is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel after those days,' declares the LORD, 'I will put My law within them and on their heart I will write it; and I will be their God, and they shall be My people'" (cf Heb. 8:10, 10:16).

John 3 makes plain that we are creatures with an affinity toward darkness rather than the Light, for our deeds were evil (v. 19-20; see Job 24:13). Yet, rescued from the domain of darkness and transferred to the kingdom of God's beloved Son (Col. 1:13), our souls bear the image of the Light to whom we are exposed. Second Corinthians states, "For God, who said, 'Light shall shine out of darkness,' is the One who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ."

Through various passages, the Bible makes clear that our beings are the surface upon which God 'writes with light,' using the stylus of His truth [Jn. 17:17] to bear upon our beings the word implanted (Js. 1:21), the commandment which enlightens our eyes (Ps. 19:8), and the wisdom by which a man's countenance is brought to beam (Ecc. 8:1). He is the Light of life (Jn. 8:12), in whom we see light (Ps. 36:9).

For the One who spoke light into existence (Gen. 1:3), who is Himself the radiance of God's glory (Heb. 1:3) and who will ultimately illumine heaven by His sheer Being (Rev. 21:23), came into the world, that those who believe in Him may not remain in darkness (Jn. 12:46) but have a great light dawn upon them (Mt. 4:16; cf Is. 9:2). And it is to His good purpose and pleasure that we, who were formerly darkness and are now Light in the Lord (Eph. 5:8), reflect the Lord's glory, being transformed into His image through the Spirit (2 Cor. 3:18).

For God, in whom "there is no darkness at all" (1 Jn. 1:5) and with whom "there is no variation or shifting shadow" (Js. 1:17), has created our souls to be 'light-sensitive,' that He may write upon those who once 'dwelt in darkness and in the shadow of death' (Ps. 107:10, 14) the image of His Son, into whose likeness we are being conformed [Ro. 8:29].

Let us therefore proclaim the 'excellencies of Him who has called us out of darkness into His marvelous light' (1 Pe. 2:9), as we cry with whole-hearted, reverent adoration, "The LORD my God illumines my darkness" (Ps. 18:28).

Where We Reside

2010-08-19T21:13:00.002-07:00

After sitting through a highly convicting sermon last night, in which I felt totally bruised, I wondered again why I have wasted so much time in the shallows.

My life is composed of spelling lists and shoe-lace-tying lessons, when I have spent many times wondering if I should not be in another country, serving the kids of Russia who have been abandoned to an institution (детский дом, a children's home), not through parental death but outright decision. These are the "social orphans," ninety percent of whom still have at least one living parent: children who were labeled too inconvenient or costly to be reared by their own family.

The waves came crashing in last night. Why do I sit here occupied with parent conferences and paper correcting? What is the point of teaching kids how to use prepositions and protractors? Why I am swamped in the trivial, the superficial and the meaningless? 'Why,' in other words, 'this waste?' (Mt. 26:8).

It was at about 1:00 PM today, as I sat in what I thought would be a customary meeting with a parent, that God addressed the questions. The mother, wanting to apprise me of her child's physical and emotional challenges before the school year began, explained that her youngster has been making good strides. While number sense is coming along slowly, there has been some notable growth in reading.

Yet, as I sat there with the most recent diagnoses laid out before me in ten-point font, I was hardly taking mental notes on how to make classroom accommodations. Instead, I was mulling over God's exceeding intentionality. For the child He was presenting me was adopted from Russia; left for the first fifteen months of her life without forming any attachments; and is still, all these years later, recovering from the fall-out of her infancy. She was one of the ones for whom I'd been praying...

All that time, when there'd been a pressing need to intercede for those who had been relinquished for selfish or desperate reasons; when there had been a dire sense of needing to "do" something, now He was lending to these hands an avenue by which to act on all that He had inspired.

I cannot help but marvel at how masterfully He weaves His purpose with His design. Nor can I do anything but faithfully rejoice that He, fitting together the impending need to act, with the firmly-defined sphere where He's had me reside, should now merge the restlessness with reprieve.

He alone is the One to answer our striving with the sufficiency of His planning and pleasing. And we are left to exult in Him with grateful worship:

"'For I proclaim the Name of the LORD;
Ascribe greatness to our God!
The Rock! His work is perfect...'"
Deuteronomy 32:3-4

In the Tedium

2010-08-19T21:13:00.001-07:00

Spent part of yesterday afternoon enjoying some time in a fabric store, looking for a pattern that would fit well with the teal print I had just purchased. Yet what caused me to marvel in gratitude was my company. For, as I perused the pattern books that were sprawled across the table, I was surrounded by friends who would never have voluntarily chosen to be there on their own: one, who admits that the closest she's come to sewing patterns was in using her drafting tools to sketch her own skirt; another, whose sewing teacher had berated her so much that she was turned off to it entirely; and two, who avoided the craft store for as long as they could with a trip to the nearby bookstore. To see them lounging around the table with me as I pored over photos of empire waists and cowl necklines meant a great deal, not only for their patience, but even more simply, for their presence.

How much God values that kind of undying loyalty though. He commands in Proverbs 3:3-4 that we are to 'let love and faithfulness never leave;' that we are to 'bind them around our neck, write them on the tablet of our heart,' and thus, will 'win favor and a good name in the sight of God and man.' How much it pleases Him when, having the opportunity to walk away, yet we remain, even in the 'tedium' or costliness which would drive us away.

For He Himself pioneered and forever epitomizes that kind of unswerving endurance, not counting it too costly a task [Heb. 12:2] to come to us in our sinfulness, to enter our sphere and take on flesh (Ph. 2:8) for our sake see (Acts 3:26). We are forever changed by that kind of love, which willfully volunteered to insert Himself in the fallen circumstances which entrapped us. For Christ to have set aside His own desires, His own comfort and glory and honor; for Him to have intentionally taken on the ridicule and scorning and torture, the weight of guilt and shame rightfully ours, we can only behold with unutterable wonder the implication: that faithfulness is more highly concerned with obedience (Ps. 54:6; see also Gen. 22:10, 12) than the losses incurred.

And it is then, when we desire intently to honor the Father, that He empowers us to convey devotion as He has. For in Him alone is the power to 'love at all times' (Pro. 17:17); and from Him alone comes this longing to display, as He first did, that - even when it means 'swearing to our own hurt' - we will not change (Ps. 15:4).

"A faithful man will abound with blessings" (Proverbs 28:20).

The Final Destination

2010-08-19T21:12:00.000-07:00

With the recent church building renovation, I've been brought the decidedly sweet recollection of home. Somehow the familiar scents of plaster and primer immediately return me to the contented nostalgia of growing-up years, in which nearly every house knew Dad's masterful hand of renovation.

Yet 'home' has always seemed such an elusive concept. I can remember being asked one time the name of my hometown, and could only muse, "I don't know." Were home defined by birthplace or origin; were it determined by where one feels the most content, or familiar with surroundings; or perhaps - most ideally - were it predicated on the notion of where one belongs, then I could think of at least a couple of places which I would name home.

But the reality is that our true home outstrips every paltry perception we have if we only look at it as the object or end to our needs. It is an easy trap to believe that there is anything worth chasing in this life that could actually leave us 'settled,' at ease (see Ecc. 2:11). The more we walk around on this globe, the more we sense our own foreign-ness (Ps. 119:19), as well as the pointed discontentment with all this world has to offer (Ps. 73:25-26).

And while, as Christians, we long for our eternal home (Heb. 11:13; also Ph. 1:23), perhaps we are backwards to surmise that home is the place that is 'made for us.' Perhaps, instead, the very reason it is even recognizable to us is because home is the only place for which WE were made.

Meditations on Forgiveness

2010-08-11T10:32:00.000-07:00

Perhaps on of the most helpful "words" I have ever heard is 'unforgiveness.' Until that point, I had always counted failure to forgive as a lack of the good thing I'd ought to aspire to; not the grievous presence of bitterness and malice that it was. The fact that Paul refers to it as a stumbling block within the Enemy's schemes against us [2 Cor. 2:10-11] ought to make us all the more eager to be rid of it.

In fact, 'unforgiveness' creates an interesting juxtaposition:

Where unforgiveness encourages us to nurse our wounds, and grieve in self-pity over the losses and injustices
...forgiveness demands that we forfeit our pride, our clinging to our rights, and our concerns with what we gain or forfeit in this life (see Heb. 10:34).

Where unforgiveness presses us to dwell repeatedly upon the nature of the injuries and the malice of the offender
...forgiveness leaves the hefty fees of another's selfishness and pride unrecorded (1 Cor. 13:5).

Where unforgiveness contents one with the ploy that retribution is sweet
...forgiveness leaves room for the omniscient One to take vengeance (Ro. 12:19) with the accuracy and perfect justice which repays 'every transgression and disobedience' with 'a just penalty' (Heb. 2:2).

Where unforgiveness insists upon being relieved immediately, and determines that nothing is so grievous or deplorable as what has been endured
...forgiveness looks wide-eyed at the cross, with unfathomable wonder at how the only One blameless (1 Pe. 2:22; Lk. 23:4, 14, 15, 22, 41, 47; Is. 53:9) could absorb to Himself the 'scorn of soul' (Ez. 25:15) and malicious intent which have defined the human race.

Where unforgiveness longs to be rid of the affliction, and cares only about relief from the venom
...forgiveness waits patiently, suffering with closed mouth, and a deliberate submission to the One who judges righteously (1 Pe. 2:23).

Where unforgiveness sees the offenses, and can look no further than the losses and calamity
...forgiveness 'peers past,' beholding the one at enmity as a creature in need of vertical reconciliation, and relief from misery (Ju. 10:15-16).

Where unforgiveness would mete out its own valuation of justice, would relinquish nothing except forcibly, would clamor for every reproach to be "undone"
...forgiveness surrenders to the nature of a God who created a people who would rebel against Him; and seeks to be included, caught up in the participation, of being an ambassador for His Name's sake (2 Cor. 5:20).

Where unforgiveness cannot see, does not wish to perceive, the like nature in itself
...forgiveness recognizes: 'it is all level ground before the cross' (see Col. 3:13).

Where unforgiveness fights and impedes the flow of grace, restricts the gift of mercy (see Js. 2:13)
...forgiveness offers that which has freely been received (Mt. 10:8; also Eph. 4:32).

Where unforgiveness drives us away from God, and enlarges itself through a hatred it justifies
...forgiveness lessens the "self" with a follow-through of sacrificial living, and a refusal to squirm off the altar [Ro. 12:1].

Where unforgiveness makes one more caustic, and self-righteous, and rigid
...forgiveness softens us with the knowledge that we are fully unworthy of the pardon we have been shown (2 Tim. 1:9).

Where unforgiveness belies the nature of the one offended as being holier, purer, truer
...forgiveness whole-heartedly recognizes that there is no merit by which relief from shame was ever reasonably granted (Titus 3:3-5).

Where unforgiveness buffers our pride, and satiates our vain displays
...forgiveness reminds us of and reconciles us with our place: that we are not greater than our Master (Jn. 13:13-16), who knelt down to cleanse the feet of him whose kiss of betrayal would spit in the face of faithful, unconditional love.

Where unforgiveness drives a disdainful wedge between us and the purposes of God
...forgiveness aligns us, with a penitent spirit of submission which sooner wills to see the unmerited grace we've received made manifest and available to others, who are equally as desperate and hopeless apart from His saving intervention.

Where unforgiveness works destruction and demise, a petulant stronghold which refuses to be put off or dismissed
...forgiveness works restoration, life itself, even when the giving of it means the death of the one through whom it is offered [Jn. 15:13].

"...so that no advantage would be taken of us by Satan,
for we are not ignorant of his schemes."
2 Corinthians 2:10-11

Bumper Car Faith

2010-07-06T07:56:00.000-07:00

Ecclesiastes 8:11 says this: "Because the sentence against an evil deed is not executed quickly, therefore the hearts of the sons of men among them are given fully to do evil."

For a while, David operated in the same way. Until held accountable.

It's an interesting dynamic: this preoccupation with reading God's "response" to a sin - whether He's swift or silent - as punishment or permission.

In Isaiah 57:11, God frames His question to man like this: "'Was I not silent even for a long time so you do not fear Me?'"

But for one who functions with that "bumper car" mentality, proceeding in a direction until sent flying backwards, the internal contemplations come something like this:

Psalm 10:13 "He has said to himself, 'You will not require it.'"

Zephaniah 1:12 "'...who say in their hearts, "The LORD will not do good or evil!"'"

Psalm 94:7 "They have said, 'The LORD does not see, nor does the God of Jacob pay heed.'"

Ezekiel 8:12 "'For they say, "The LORD does not see us; the LORD has forsaken the land."'"

It strikes me as a sad state in which to live, because so wholly defiant of God, pushing it to the limit, until something else speaks to the conscience and causes a new aim and compliance. Why is the moral compass left on default? Why is that kind of curtailing the only boundary or guideline, when a deliberate aim at holiness would be so much fuller a manner to live?

Part of it comes from not fearing God [Ps. 36:1], but another aspect could easily be that there's a lack of intentionality. One song lyric puts it like this: "Am I doing everything to follow Your will, or just climbing aimlessly over these hills?" ("Whatever You're Doing (Something Heavenly)"/Sanctus Real).

Second Peter outlines so much more. There is even a list in the first chapter, from verses 5 through 7 (ex. faith, moral excellence, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness, love). But even larger is the motivation behind those qualities; for we pursue them not for the sake of possessing them, or for flaunting some religious superiority/purity, but rather, in the reverent acknowledgment of the preceding verses. From verses 3 and 4 we read, "...seeing that His divine power has granted to us everything pertaining to life and godliness, through the true knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and excellence. For by these He has granted to us His precious and magnificent promises, so that by them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world by lust."

Were we to spend the rest of our life offering up these souls and bodies as living sacrifices, that would be 'an offering far too small' for the full deliverance and free pardon of which we have become partakers. We wouldn't see our obligation to God as a perfunctory resonance with His punishment, and redirection. We would seek heartily after His ways, and all that delights Him, because our hearts would be turned toward Him in a way that recognized with a bowed-down humility that we are nothing; that we, who corrupted ourselves most willingly, and set ourselves on a path of destruction, were saved from God's holy wrath.

And perhaps we would no longer see ourselves as having the "liberty" to exercise our sinfulness because not immediately "caught." Perhaps then our cry would be more akin to Ezekiel's, when he - in full understanding that 'all things have been created through Him and for Him' (Col. 1:16) - proclaimed, "'O LORD... You are God in Israel and... I am Your servant'" (1 Ki. 18:36).

O, Conviction!

2010-07-05T23:34:00.000-07:00

(When the words "I love You" ring wincingly false) --

If I truly loved You...
...I would never count my losses more than Your own;
...I would seek what You desired;
...I would align myself fully with what You have sought.

If I truly loved You...
...my first concern would be Your thinking;
...my only consideration would be Your pleasure;
...my last thought would be of "self."

If I truly loved You...
...I wouldn't question Your devotion to me, or shrink back in fear;
...I wouldn't turn in faithlessness each time You asked me something difficult;
...I wouldn't justify my "self" and fight for my own ways and cause You grief with my disbelief in Your kindness.

If I truly loved You...
...I would lean wholly on Your Name;
...I would keep focused on Your plan;
...I would risk freely, give lavishly, and live unreservedly.

If I truly loved You...
...I would not have my eyes fixed on the present;
...nor would I complain about hardship;
...nor would I count anything but loss for the sake of knowing You.

If I truly loved You...
...Your nearness would be all I cared for;
...Your contentment and favor, all I strived to attain;
...Your quiet rest upon me, my delight.

If I truly loved You...
...I wouldn't turn my back on You with a callous, abrasive stance;
...nor lash out at You from distrust over Your motives;
...nor seek other things in place of You.

If I truly loved You, as You rightly deserved; as I'd ought...
...I would live poured out, broken down, held back for nothing;
...I would give wantonly, heedlessly, and abounding with joy;
...I would worship reverently, patiently, and with no demands to be found.

...I would be stripped of all pride, conquered in all flesh,
unburdened of every sin;
...I would be genuine when I neared You, calm when You delayed me, submitted when You required more;
...I would be open without condition; softened at all times;
ready for Your employ at every turn.

If I truly knew how to love You...
...this life would no longer have any mark of my scratching for ownership;
...this soul would no longer be wearied with sighs of self-pity;
...this heart would no longer justify itself in pursuing self-will.

If I truly understood, if it ever came naturally...
...I would be a different creature:
conformed and compliant;
refashioned and reformed;
endowed with Your nature in such a way
that all of the hurting of this world could not stain or mar,
but could only cause to pour forth all the more heavily
the kind of love, Your kind,
which bleeds for the brokenness of the unbeliever,
and yearns for the wayward home,
and would give up any personal gain
for the restless soul to be set free.

O, that I could love You!

At Great Expense

2010-04-23T17:28:00.000-07:00

My school does nothing except in extremes. Our start-up was a "hit-the-ground-running" scenario, with no buildings (only a dirt lot) just weeks prior to opening. In like manner, the teacher appreciation that the parent community expresses is no less intensive. I sit surrounded by vases of gloriously scented flowers, and the kinds of food that would be detrimental to any figure.

But the reason I rejoice is that God has defined once again, with His gentle clarity, the amazing nature of giving. For it is no small thing to be granted tangible displays of affection, by which one expresses a kindly gratitude for one's presence or deeds, nor is it anything lightly received to know the bestowal of good will and nurturing care. But there is a kind of giving which transcends in nature even those most generous and gregarious, overtly-pleasing acts. There is, as I was brought to tears today with the reminder, the gift of the will, and it is a most costly and gracious gift.

It was as I was cleaning up the classroom, readying to lock up, that my eye was caught on a small yellow Post-It note left on the shelf behind my desk. On it, scrawled in turquoise marker, were six simple words and a name, penned by one of my students who has - much to my chagrin - felt increasingly alienated from the class because of his excessive talking, and the challenge he still has in using self-control.

As I stared at the note, suddenly all of the gifts given by parents and students all week - the roses, the calla lilies, and irises; the homemade meals and hand-made cards; the warm drinks and warm thoughts - took their proper perspective. For on this one, small note was written the gift that cost the greatest sacrifice, for surely it was the present that demanded the most from its giver. The declaration was straightforward and heartily determined: "My gift is being on task!"

Of all of the kindnesses and well-wishes, of all of the deeds that were intended to bring me cheer and comfort, this one had behind it an enormity of costliness. For in it was every bit of intentionality, and a striving to overcome for my sake; and in it was wrapped the depth of knowledge of what was truly pleasing in my sight.

He had not handed me platitudes which he would quickly rescind. He had not chosen to convey fleeting sentiments that he could easily betray with his actions. Neither had he proffered something which would minimize what would be required of him. Instead, he had elected that which would, by its very nature, set no limit on the scope of what it would cost him. He had committed himself, in decided efforts, to that very purpose and demonstration which would not simply be costly, but would invariably be the most expensive gift he could offer.

I am by no means untouched by the devotion and loving appreciation which have overflowed and overwhelmed me all week. Nor am I able to adequately thank all of those involved for such extensive and magnanimous efforts, but I am exceedingly mindful that the giving that exacted the most was that which meant an exercise of the will. And it is through such that I am mindful of why God has made so plain: He is not interested in tangible presentations as He is with a will bent on pleasing Him.

As Jeremiah 7:22-23 words it:

"'For I did not speak to your fathers, or command them in the day that I brought them out of the land of Egypt, concerning burnt offerings and sacrifices. But this is what I commanded them, saying, "Obey My voice, and I will be your God, and you will be My people; and you will walk in all the way which I command you, that it may be well with you."'"

Open Access

2009-07-17T11:13:00.000-07:00

Two years ago, my principal received a scathing letter from a parent who asserted that I didn't care about the kids. Since that time, I have had the privilege of getting to demonstrate forgiveness in front of an amazed team of colleagues, and enjoyed the opportunity as well to display (to the best of my failing abilities) what unconditional love looks like.

It has been an interesting journey, to now be serving in the capacity of tutor for this man's son. The one who had sounded on the verge of requesting out my class, rather than continuing on with me for two years of "looping," now stays after his son's writing lesson is finished, questioning me about matters of faith. God's working is an endless source of amazement.

Yesterday's conversation was particularly interesting though. The father, reflecting upon the parental expectation of wanting children to behave immediately, commented that parents don't like my teaching style; that they want the kids to behave NOW, and haven't the patience for putting up with disruptions or disobedience. Wrestling with his notions about whether it was more important to establish a rapport or see quick "results," he continued mulling over the differences: 'Your way takes a much longer time, because you're building throughout the year.'

He went on to observe how I never "shut kids off," or dismiss someone for misbehaving; that my students know that, no matter what they have done, I won't turn them away. It was then, with a mixture of annoyance and wonder, that he concluded, "Even the worst offender still has access to you."

Aye, is that not the most blessed news of the Gospel? Even those who have 'trampled under foot the Son of God and insulted the Spirit of grace' (Hebrews 10:29); who have 'judged themselves unworthy of eternal life' (Acts 13:46), and have all but concluded that they are "unforgivable," still have access to the Father through Jesus Christ (Ephesians 2:18)! There is no repentant soul whom He will not hear (2 Chronicles 7:14)!

Job states plainly the simple path back:
"'If you return to the Almighty, you will be restored;
if you remove unrighteousness far from your tent...
then you will delight in the Almighty and lift up your face to God.
You will pray to Him, and He will hear you...'" (22:23, 26-27).

And so it is that, even when we have ushered ourselves into our own demise (Proverbs 16:25; 14:12), and a state of filth (Ezekiel 24:13); even when our hearts have raged against Him (Isaiah 37:23; Job 18:4; Isaiah 8:21), and we have set ourselves in strict opposition to everything we have known to be His will (Luke 12:47); even then, as "worst offenders," we are permitted into His presence (Hebrews 10:19-22).

And it is in that glorious truth, broken in reverent awe over how His astounding forgiveness (see Psalm 103:10-12) overwhelms our crushing rebellion (see Ezekiel 6:9), that we grasp how our sin is not the end of our access to our Maker, but the very impetus for our ecstatic praise, by which we cry out to Him with humble wonder, 'Blessed be God, who has not turned away... His loving-kindness from me!' (Psalm 66:20).

The Best Sales Job

2009-07-03T16:59:00.001-07:00

Found a flier left on the doorstep today: “Eternal Life is a FREE Gift.” While I commend those who were going door-to-door, spreading the Gospel message, part of me can’t glance at that little pamphlet without beholding the sorely skewed nature of the proposition. Have we, as Christians, become peddlers of our faith?

I mean, a salesperson’s job is always to present the most attractive side, and downplay anything that might hinder the conclusion of the sale. Sometimes it takes a long time after the purchase before the customer even realizes some of the hidden costs (ex. the degree of maintenance issues with a car, the amount of interest that accrues on a college loan, the long hours required above and beyond what the contract said). But the whole point is that the deal is already done.

It strikes me (and forgive the meager comparison) as trying to sell marriage based on one aspect… say, sex. Sure, one of the more appealing sides… but let’s say marriage were instead presented upfront as a merging of two lives; a morphing of one’s identity; a total restructuring of all priorities and investments; a forfeiture of ownership claims and autonomous decision-making; a daily dying to “self” as one gives preference to another equally as fallible and weak individual; in short, as the greatest sharpening tool ever to make one humble, and emptied, and holy. The whole “sex” part of it may not, depending on the individual considering it, really overcome all of the vulnerability, sacrifice, and unconditional commitment included… and the “sale” would be lost.

We don’t present Christianity point-blank like that. We attract people with God’s grace, or scare them with His judgment – but we mention both of those strictly in the context of a one-time decision. We don’t mention the altogether life-altering pattern that will mean for the rest of one’s earthly days. Why is our focus so limited?

What if we tried this instead? “Eternal life is a free gift… AND… included in its acceptance, you will now be aware of the internal war of trying to please God while your flesh is still raging to enthrone itself (Ro. 7:15). You will be required to part ways with your pride (Ph. 2:3), to set aside all plans of directing life on your terms (1 Cor. 6:19-20), and to show the most ungrateful and evil people you know the most sacrificial love you can give (Lk. 6:35). You hereby forfeit any right to live with comfort or ease (2 Tim. 2:3), to demand repayment for what is taken from you (Lk. 6:30), and to go on the offensive when you are treated unfairly (1 Pe. 2:20). For desiring to live a godly life, you will be guaranteed persecution (2 Tim. 3:12). And, because of the One you have now put your faith in, you, too, will be ‘hated by all!’” (Lk. 21:17).

But then, I don’t know… I’ve never been much of a salesperson.

May Help Lower Blood Pressure

2009-03-05T22:11:00.001-08:00

I normally like cinnamon. I put it on everything from ‘opeyno’ to popcorn. However, as I was making breakfast the other morning, I accidentally opened the wrong side of the container. (If cinnamon is said to lower blood pressure, I had enough to stop my heart.) After I shoveled off as much excess as possible, I tried choking down what I could palate, suddenly realizing that what I’d once always liked had become abhorrent to me.

We are not unlike that in our relation to sin.

Numbers 11:18-20 details a fairly vivid example of a nation who had demanded of God the food they thought they were craving in the wilderness (see Ps. 78:18-20). What they ended up with was a great dissatisfaction over their sinful appetite.

“‘Say to the people, “Consecrate yourselves for tomorrow, and you shall eat meat; for you have wept in the ears of the LORD, saying, ‘Oh that someone would give us meat to eat! For we were well-off in Egypt.’ Therefore the LORD will give you meat and you shall eat. You shall eat, not one day, nor two days, nor five days, nor ten days, nor twenty days, but a whole month, until it comes out of your nostrils and becomes loathsome to you; because you have rejected the LORD who is among you and have wept before Him, saying, ‘Why did we ever leave Egypt?’”’”

How often our insistence is to our undoing. How often we test God (Ex. 17:7) in our hearty efforts to satisfy ourselves above all else.

And yet perhaps it is one of God’s furthest-reaching graces that He gives us our way, and lets us ‘taste’ with disgust the how our plans play out. Wretched as it seems to us at the time to have to endure our folly, there is a gift, in that He teaches us, masterfully, poignantly, with a rugged finality – that we are to our own greatest harm; that we are ignorant of our true needs, and incapable of meeting them ourselves; that we cannot circumvent dependence on Him without running ourselves back into the bondage from which we’ve been freed.

Second Chronicles 12:8 outlines well His method of instruction: “‘But they will become his slaves so that they may learn the difference between My service and the service of the kingdoms of the countries.’”

How dogmatically we dash headlong into our own demise, enslaving ourselves voluntarily – not to God, but to unrighteousness. How shameful a human condition it is in which we willingly forfeit the dignity He bestows on us (Gal. 4:7), and hastily forget the purification He has already accomplished as ours (2 Pe. 1:9).

And yet it is grace, sheer and undefiled, that we are permitted a time of ‘misery and chains’ (Ps. 107:10), where we cry out to Him in our distress (v. 13), and firmly perceive how gravely we erred in fleeing to anything apart from Him to fulfill us. For it is in our being glutted on our own devices, ‘filled to the measure of guilt’ in our self-glorifying schemes, that He teaches us how He alone is our life and satisfaction.

Praise be to Him, that He would sooner we experience the depravity of our ways than live deluded by the lie that we could be satiated without Him (Ecc. 2:25). Praise be to Him, that He would minister to us with the ‘bread of privation and water of oppression’ (Is. 30:20), in order for us to finally understand: His desire to free us from disobedience is even more overwhelming than our need to be delivered from it.

“A” is for Advocate

2009-01-17T19:09:00.000-08:00

Since Thursday night, when I signed my name about twenty times, I have been the owner of a cute, little blue car. My excitement quickly soured when I learned how badly I had been overcharged. And so, for the two days following, I tried reasoning my way through whether I should try contesting the final sale, even though I had no recourse with all of the paperwork completed, or simply accept the charges, and quietly walk away with a car. Both prospects brought distress – because I knew the futility of my trying to fight a dealership which had already intimidated me, and because simply conceding left me feeling overpowered and angry at my own foolishness.

I spent most of Friday churning and rehearsing a dozen and one little rants, ranging from compassionate appeal to outright accusation, all of which I would level at the finance manager who had left me feeling so ill-at-ease with the deal. When the impossibility of my overcoming a corporation finally sunk in, I determined that I would simply hand the already-printed cashier’s check to the salesperson, and absorb the loss as a painful lesson.

But the questions that charged through my mind were mainly directed vertically. Is meekness penalized; can there be no justice for one who isn’t tenacious? What kind of system is this if the defenseless are the ones who are most preyed upon, and there is no one to be spokesperson? “Who will stand up for me against evildoers? Who will take his stand for me against those who do wickedness?” (Psalm 94:16).

I had been on the phone and e-mailing my parents, and had tried to make contact with an uncle, who quickly replied that he would help. But when most of the day had passed, and I still hadn’t heard back from him, I resigned myself to simply returning to the car lot without a fight.*

What I hadn’t counted on was the sight of both uncle and aunt striding up the walkway by mid-afternoon. And relief started to emerge. Regardless of what would come, there was someone to come alongside me and at least take up my case; the consequence mattered less to me than the fact that someone had shown up.

And so, with my aunt giving me a huge embrace, and my uncle armed with an attitude ready to ‘overturn some money tables,’ I headed back to the place where, not long before, I had joyously taken ownership of something that had hastily become a grief. There was a chill in me which anticipated a nasty tension, even as I was still musing gratefully over my uncle’s coming.

It was as I sat in the dealership that there was a shift. For, it was as my uncle laid a firm, articulate case about how the salesperson had taken advantage of me, that I watched this finance manager, so menacing to me not forty-eight hours before, turn sheepish eyes away from my family member, then slink to the back room to ‘talk with his boss.’ After some negotiating, the price was talked down – something which my uncle (who seemed to be having a good time on the offensive!) twice remarked to me as being ‘unprecedented,’ considering the contract had already been sealed. And something in me was transformed.

As I walked back through the parking lot, the anger and distress were unwrapped, for I could hold my head with dignity again. It wasn’t that I had any less weakness in me, but that I had one who had positioned himself beside me to speak for my rights when I had no voice. First John 2:1 calls such an advocate 'one called alongside to help' [paracletos].

And this is what it means when God declares, “‘For I, the LORD, love justice; I hate robbery… and I will faithfully give them their recompense’” (Isaiah 61:8). He has not argued a case simply because He alone has the power to rightly avenge (see Js. 1:20, also Ro. 12:19, Lev. 19:18), but because His love for justice drives Him to set aright the injury; because defrauding and depriving a man of justice are things of which He does not approve (Lam. 3:35).

I look upon the stress of those hours in between, when feeling exploited and helpless, and recognize now with gratitude that all of those tears were washing away the fallacies I harbored about God’s nature. I could have walked out of that dealership with a great price on a car Thursday night; could have enjoyed the vehicle and never looked back.

But what I received far transcended that gift – because what I came to grasp, through that sobering recognition of what I had lost, was the raw potency of the One who would fight to recover my losses. And what I learned, through the distress of having been overpowered, was how masterfully my Intercessor can utterly disarm the one in the wrong. And what I glean, having been caught up in a circumstance which was initiated by the One fighting for me, was that I am not the one upon whom justice depends. I am neither required nor able to defend myself. But I serve a God who has required of Himself that He would stand in my stead, pursuing the justice I cannot acquire, rectifying the wrongs to which I cannot hold another accountable for redressing.

Jeremiah 9:23-24 shouts this: “Thus says the LORD, ‘Let not a wise man boast of his wisdom, and let not the mighty man boast of his might, let not a rich man boast of his riches; but let him who boasts boast of this, that he understands and knows Me, that I am the LORD who exercises loving-kindness, justice and righteousness on the earth; for I delight in these things,’ declares the LORD.”

Alleluia, Amen!

* My uncle actually had e-mailed back within a few hours (time stamped at 11:18 AM); the e-mail simply didn’t come through until after we both got home from the dealership.

** Cool side note: the paint color is the same royal blue as the letter "A," yet one more reason to be mindful, every time I see the car, that "A" is for Advocate! :o)

Adding On

2008-10-10T16:48:00.000-07:00

Spent a good portion of the morning analyzing student responses on math assessments… which basically means that a bunch of teachers took on the onerous task of trying to figure out how seven-year-olds think!

One particular math problem – in which a boy had thirty-six stamps, and was given twenty-six more – brought several responses, including open number lines, number trees, and missing addends as potential solutions. One could tell, upon review, the level of number sense students had, and what their next steps developmentally would be.

But one particular response caught my attention. In it, the student had drawn, in a neat array of four by nine, all thirty-six of the initial stamps, and then beside it, another group of circles representing the additional twenty-six. The instructor leading our session made the comment that the reason a student doesn’t simply “add on” to the initial number (the reason all thirty-six stamps had to be painstakingly drawn) is that the child has ‘no trust that the number is solid.’

How many times do I, too, count the initial “thirty-six?” How many ways do I go back to “one” when looking through the lens of a new situation? Yes, God proved Himself faithful then, but this is a new instance in which that is being tested; I’d better “re-figure.” Yes, He is “good to all” (Ps. 145:9), but what if this one time, something goes awry; I’d ought to re-count.

What I’m struck by is how much time the child figuring that stamp problem wasted; how much more could have been accomplished if – rather than distrusting the basics – he had spent the time searching for a more efficient strategy, or double-checking his work. Instead, he went back to the beginning, and forfeit growth. All the time spent doubting the essentials, the stark, immutable nature of a number, could have been spent “adding on.” He might have at least started with thirty-seven, and proceeded.

But how would that look? Yes, God has proven Himself faithful; therefore, even though I cannot see how He’ll accomplish it, I trust He will bring it to pass. “Thirty-seven…” Even though I don’t yet envision how He could provide, He has never failed before. “Thirty-eight…” Much as I’m struggling to see His goodness in this, He has proven undeniably His immense love with a crossbeam and nails. “Thirty-nine…”

As 2 Timothy 3:14 exhorts us, we are to ‘continue in the things we have learned and become convinced of…’ Even more explicitly, 2 John 1:8 states, “Watch yourselves, that you do not lose what you have accomplished…” We have no need to start back at number “one.” We would be forfeiting all we had ‘accomplished’ were we to return to the beginning, when what are “counting on” is already “solid.”

For our hope lies not in One who must be re-proven in each situation, but in Him whose character is unchanging [see Hebrews 13:8]. And it is to Him that we may declare with firm conviction, even when deluged with the “un-figured” calculations of our ever-changing circumstance, “But You are the same…” (Psalm 102:27).

Tracking Detail

2008-07-03T20:01:00.000-07:00

Received an e-mail the other day which updated me on the status of a package I had ordered last week. (See below.)

Tracking Number: 1Z 763 9X0 03 7435 824 5
Type: Package
Status: In Transit – On Time
Scheduled Delivery: 07/03/2008
Shipped/Billed On: 06/27/08
Service: Ground
Weight: 4.10 Lbs
Multiple Packages: 2

Yet the line that caught my eye was the one which stated quite unambiguously: In Transit – On Time.

Now, while I think it kind of cool that I can know that my shipment left Columbus, Ohio at 12:18 AM on the 28th, and that it hit “adverse weather” conditions when it got to San Pablo, California, what fascinates me is that sometimes God volunteers information like this about His activity. Certainly we have no reason to be privy to all of the work He is going about, but there are times when, for the sheer grace of it, He discloses to us that what He has promised is “in transit – on time.”

Habakkuk 2:3 comes to mind:

“For the revelation awaits an appointed time;
it speaks of the end and will not prove false.
Though it linger, wait for it;
it will certainly come and will not delay.”

Perhaps He, being ‘mindful of our frame’ (Psalm 103:14) and that we are still so prone to “sight,” chooses to encourage us with the exhortation that He is always going about His work (John 5:17), and that we are called to ‘patiently wait,’ so as to ‘obtain the promise’ (Heb. 6:15).

The interesting thing about the tracking detail I received was that it accurately hits on two of the biggest lies which intervene in the interim, when we are still awaiting the unfolding of what He has spoken over our lives.

For one, there is the lie that God doesn’t have His work “in transit;” the fearfulness that He has delayed even initiating (let alone completing) what He has sworn to do. Take Abraham. Genesis 16 starts out with the stark reminder: “Now Sarai, Abram’s wife had borne him no children” (v. 1). The circumstances caused him to doubt the adequacy of God’s way. The error wasn’t in wanting what God had promised, but in declaring through action that what God had voluntarily vowed to bestow wasn’t His desire to truly give.

Yet Psalm 89:34 reassures us with God’s unchanging nature: “My covenant I will not violate, nor will I alter the utterance of My lips.” And Hebrews 6 emphasizes that “God, desiring even more to show to the heirs of the promise the unchangeableness of His purpose, interposed with an oath” (v. 17). He promised, not in order to pacify us, as if He were reluctant to give good (see Psalm 81:16), but to state all the more emphatically that He was in the process of accomplishing the very work which even the utterance of His mouth avowed to as credible.

For another, the tracking status hits on the flawed notion that God’s work isn't “on time.” Take Saul. When Samuel didn’t come ‘within the appointed days’ (1 Sam. 13:11), Saul went ahead and offered the burnt sacrifice for which he should have waited. It was easier to see Samuel's coming [and ultimately, God’s timing] as ‘out of alignment,’ and to believe - especially when Saul was still met with a void of what was foretold - that he must take matters into his own hands if he were to “secure” from the Lord the deliverance or favor that he desired (see v. 12).

And yet we know that God’s manner is to act in the perfect moment; that “there is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven…” as Ecclesiastes 3:1 declares. He is not, as we sometimes surmise, dragging His feet to furnish what His words have caused us to expect. Instead, He is both strategic and precise in the moment He has elected, and gracious to remind us, when the fulfillment is manifested, that His ways were always completely wise, because all “His work is perfect” (Deut. 32:4).

And so, when it is that the ‘revelation lingers,’ we are called not to despair that God will fail to deliver what He has promised, but that – even down to the “transit” and “timing” – He is the One who has never failed to complete what He has begun. For, even in our waiting, we can anticipate fully and with gratitude His completion of what He has vowed; that, ‘with respect to the promise of God,’ we ‘not waver in unbelief but grow strong in faith, giving glory to God, being fully persuaded that what God has promised, He is able also to perform’ (Romans 4:20-21).

Executive Decision

2008-05-19T22:13:00.000-07:00

When I was signing my contract today, I should have read more carefully. I read to see that the step and column on the chart matched up with what the contract itself said, but I should have heeded the uneasy feeling about the figure on the line.

As my principal was photocopying the signed contract, he asked if I had any questions, and I asked how the step was figured. When we realized the discrepancy, he and the administrative assistant refigured the math, and looked over the previous years’ contracts to find any conflicts. Both times the number came out to be less than the salary typed into this year’s contract.

And then my principal looked at the paperwork and stated decisively that he was making an “executive decision” to leave this upcoming year’s contract as is.

At first, I was very grateful, and humbled by the generosity which was willing to overlook my failure to catch the mistake. But then guilt was quick to creep in, with its many cries that I’m not worth that much, not even worth what I would normally be paid. And, in that self-hatred, where guilt started to speak most loudly, and confusion muddled more than I could expect, I penned a note to him, explaining that I simply couldn’t accept the gesture, and that I would be by in the morning to re-sign a revised contract.

I still have that letter though… because God teaches lessons in strange ways. It was as I was propounding in prayer how I would clear my conscience that I suddenly got hit with a new definition of grace. My declaration was simple: “I can’t take something I haven’t earned, no matter how benevolent my boss. I’m the one who failed to check -- ”

And God echoed back at me with the sound of my own faithless cry which fights, “I can’t accept grace, no matter how compassionate my God. I’m the one who sinned -- ”

Despite all of my wriggling, I cannot evade the reality that the one in need of pardon is the irrelevant factor. That what we have earned and how we have erred are never weighed into the equation. For our justification is not held within our character, or contained by our deeds, but lies only in the One to whom alone belongs the "executive decision" to extend mercy.

As Exodus 33:19 boldly states, much to the jarring of our sensibilities, and fully in line with His authority, God bestows favor at His will. “And He said, ‘I Myself will make all My goodness pass before you, and will proclaim the name of the LORD before you; and I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show compassion on whom I will show compassion.’”

Music Lessons

2008-04-20T16:02:00.000-07:00

Amidst the chord progressions of G-C-D, God has been infusing me with several lessons...

On strumming versus plucking...

I have always been taken with the sound of plucking; could, in fact, listen for hours to the light and hastened melodies sharpened by the playing of individual strings. But there are relatively few times when the majority of a song is played with that technique; if anything, strumming is the constant, so as to draw our attention to the seeming “interruption” of that more precise sound.

Likewise, we as Christians are surrounded with the low-lying, all-pervasive awareness of God’s goodness. And yet, it is in those defined moments, where we learn a specific attribute about Him which strikes us as altogether “new,” that our attention is riveted, not only by the complexities, but also by the sharpness of the reality which He has interposed.

On leading and logistics...

Had e-mailed a family member with comments about music:

“Strange to again (after spending the past couple of years learning to praise as a way to train my eyes ‘up’), now be going back (like during days of choir practice) to more the ‘mechanics’ of singing (ex. hitting [every note in] a run, breathing at the right interval, etc.). It's odd how God takes us through those seasons of needing to learn something personally, and then putting into practice for others that which we've been trained by.”

God patiently takes the time to teach us individually, and then, when that lesson is grounded within us, He draws it out of us for the sake of others. I had spent earlier years learning quarter notes, and later years learning that God is eternally worthy of praise. To now be back to “quarter notes” seems a backsliding -- except that one friend, also in leadership, remarked that there is an aspect about worship leading which is a form of service: that we are not necessarily participating for our own expression of praise, but for the sake of helping others to ‘enter His courts...’ (Psalm 100:4). And so, there is the knowledge that worship can sometimes take the form of communing with God directly, and sometimes, uplifting those in the Body as they enjoy fellowship with Him.

On learning harmonies...

If given the freedom during practice to pick a harmony, I will experiment. If however, I’m still shaky when it’s time to sing, I will more than likely revert to the melody I know. It doesn’t seem to matter that I’m willing to “fill out” the song; that I want to blend a harmony with the voices and instruments around me. If I’m not totally solid on the part, I can’t seem to “perform” when it’s time, and the only reason I can account for is fear.

Perhaps the frustration is a gift, to make me mindful that “the fear of man brings a snare...” (Proverbs 29:25). Perhaps it is also a grace to recall the truth of 2 Corinthians 3:5: “Not that we are adequate in ourselves to consider anything as coming from ourselves, but our adequacy is from God..."

On meeting “standard”...

Remember getting ready to practice one day, and concerning myself with whether I would be able to sing well; whether the songs would be worshipful, and not tarnished by any mistakes. It was then that God gently reminded me that I pleased Him just by ‘standing there.’ How it relaxed me to know that, even before I opened my mouth, He looked upon my presence as a dedication to the calling, and a willingness to be used by Him as He completes what He initiated in me (Philippians 1:6). Odd to think that ‘availability’ takes precedence over ‘ability;’ that He is pleased not with flawlessness, but faithfulness, which is revealed in the outward sign of obedience to the vocation.

On choosing one’s audience...

Colossians 3:23 makes the decision clear: “…do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men.” The temptation is always to evaluate one’s ability, or even one’s worth, through the lens of others’ appraisal. Having been caught in that trap, I have been returned to Ephesians 6:6 on various occasions. I am often in need of the reminder that I am not to act “by way of eyeservice, as men-pleasers, but as slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart.”

If my “ambition” is truly “to be pleasing to Him” (2 Corinthians 5:9), then the litmus test which measures the quality of my serving is not found in the evaluation of another creature, but in the God who ‘formed me for Himself’ (Isaiah 43:21); the One ‘for whom’ and ‘through whom’ I exist (1 Corinthians 8:6).

It was in His mind that harmony and melody were birthed, and it is in His keeping that we are brought to appreciate more fully that He has created us to highly exalt Him, who is Himself ‘our strength and our song’ (Exodus 15:1-2).

Elementary Theology

2008-03-24T22:08:00.000-07:00

Maybe I’ve been with eight-year-olds too long, but I’m finding that theology is unusually accessible within the classroom…

…when, after a day of a messy art project, one of the kids, seeking a helper who can get another supply, yells to a roomful of sticky workers, “Who has clean hands?!”
Psalm 24:3-4 “Who may ascend to the hill of the LORD? And who may stand in His holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart…”

…or when, today, one student who had just flanked me with a hug, exclaimed, “If I was hot glued to you, I would be very happy!”
Joshua 23:8 “But you are to cling to the LORD your God…”

…or when the astronomy reading explains:
“The Sun’s gravity helps hold the objects in the solar system in orbit…”
Col 1:17 “…in Him all things hold together…”
“The sun… gives heat and light.”
1 John 1:5 “…God is Light, and in Him there is no darkness at all.”
“It helps things grow…”
Eph. 4:15-16 “…we are to grow up in all aspects into Him… even Christ, from whom the whole body, being fitted and held together by what every joint supplies, according to the proper working of each individual part, causes the growth of the body for the building up of itself in love.”
“…and lets us see.”
John 16:13 “‘…when He, the Sprit of Truth, comes, He will guide you into all the truth…’”
“Without the sun, there would be no life.”
John 15:4-6 “‘Abide in Me… As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in Me…’”

Praise be to the God whose joy and desire it is to whisper to us His Scripture, so that, whenever we turn to the right or to the left, ‘our ears will hear a word behind us, “This is the way, walk in it” (Isaiah 30:21).

Levi’s and the Learning Curve

2008-03-14T20:16:00.000-07:00

A fellow teacher related to me today how one of our mutual students had approached her in shock after seeing me in jeans: “Miss Milco has her hair in a pony tail and she isn’t wearing a skirt!” Another girl had earlier commented to me, with my changed appearance, “You look like a teenager!” And two other students had to react to my outward change with the question, “How old are you?” and an (amusingly) genuine “Really?” when I promptly replied, “Twelve!”

Who would’ve thought Levi’s could be so traumatic?!

Still, I’m reminded of how I sometimes react to God… when I come to Him with shock to see Him differently than I’d expected; when His appearance creates a reaction from me; and even, when – not fully beholding Him – I gullibly believe ‘what looks to be,’ because I’m still not squaring what all of His congruent yet too-large-to-grasp characteristics really are.

Perhaps most though, I ponder His character at this time because of what yesterday held: a time of anger, which God resolved – not by stifling it, or telling me to do away with it, but by graciously giving voice to the deep-seated emotion which I had been unable to articulate. I didn’t think God was supposed to work like that.

And yet, what I needed in that moment (what my Heavenly Father knew, and most aptly provided) was not a way to “stop up” the tears or questions, but to distinctly formulate what was churning inside, so that – in confessing to Him all that was puzzled and hurting – I would then know release from that spiritual unrest.

And there’s where the intimacy breathes. Where His ‘blotting out transgressions’ begins translating into the reality in which I abide; where there isn’t shame in confessing that my reactions are surface, and that I need the Spirit to break through the deluge of emotion to fasten my eyes on what really gnaws away at the relationship I have with my Father.

I wouldn’t have expected that God would have calmed me through aiding my tears, any more than my students were accustomed to seeing me in jeans, but the point isn’t the expectation. Rather, it is specifically in those moments where my expectations of God are most tattered and stale, that He grants to me – by a wise graciousness exceeding my hopes – more of His character ‘peeled away.’ Another revelation of who He is, and not in line with my subtle presumption.

For, just as He is unwilling that I live apart from life, so He is as unyielding in destroying my ignorance, and finally bringing me into that sanctuary where my one boast is this: ‘that I understand and know Him, that He is the LORD…’ (Jeremiah 9:24).

Simple Fractions

2008-02-24T14:02:00.000-08:00

My kids are getting pretty good at reducing fractions. They can, for example, figure out that multiples of two could divide evenly into both the numerator and denominator of 6/16. (And, for that matter, most of them could explain that 3 is a multiple that only works with the numerator, because the sum of the digits in the denominator, seven, is not divisible by three.) For third graders, they’ve been doing quite well.

I, on the other hand, am still having trouble with 1/2. I keep forgetting that “a half-truth is still a lie until it finds its other half.” And so, forging into half-lies, I fumble with what really is “whole.”

It’s all too easy to start with ideas that never ‘meet their other half.’ For example, a favorite line of attack is often that, because I can see my own unworthiness, I am therefore unlovable. What I stop at is my own character. What I fail to perceive is that God’s character contains the other half.

We are “unlovable,” and yet not “unloved.” We are unworthy of God’s attention and favor, and yet, those are still bestowed, because of His nature. As one pastor has put it, “We are not loved because we are worthy; rather, our lives have worth because we are loved by Almighty God.”

For many, the human condition is the only ‘half’ that’s considered (and, sadly, taken as the ‘whole’ truth). But if we fail to recognize the ‘half’ that completes it, if all we are stirred to believe is that we have precluded ourselves from love by who we have been, then we are not rightly seeing the nature of the One who has made us.

And His nature is displayed in this:

“‘For you are a holy people to the LORD your God; the LORD your God has chosen you to be a people for His own possession out of all the peoples who are on the face of the earth. The LORD did not set His love on you nor choose you because you were more in number than any of the peoples, for you were the fewest of all peoples, but because the LORD loved you and kept the oath which He swore…’” (Deuteronomy 7:6-8).

The reality with which we must grapple (the ‘half-truth’ which He will faithfully complete in the quiet recesses of our unsuspecting heart) is that “we” are not the deciding factor; that, in fact, we have no hand in whether God lavishes upon us His ‘great love’ (1 John 3:1). For the other ‘half,’ the part which makes our lives complete and yields our ‘wholeness,’ is that we – who are, by our very condition, unable to incite, entreat, or secure the love of a Holy God – remain the recipients of that unmerited blessing, and not because of our efforts, but simply because Christ has elected Himself to be the Giver.

“So then,” as Romans 9:16 states clearly, “it does not depend on the man who wills or the man who runs, but on God who has mercy.”

To Miss the Raindrops

2008-02-22T15:07:00.000-08:00

Stood in a gusty rain storm yesterday, listening to a veteran begin with the prayer, “Almighty Commander, we have lost a comrade…” Perhaps I was so taken with the volley and taps, or the stately folding of the flag, but, for a good ten minutes or so, I didn’t even notice the raindrops.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught view of a blue, nylon fabric and metal spoke. Waited until the end of the graveside before even looking behind me, and there stood a man, quietly holding a huge umbrella: the reason I had been kept dry for the remainder of the service. I had been so unaware.

How many times God has positioned Himself alongside me in such a way.

And how often I fail to even acknowledge the Source of my protection; to behold that He is the One shielding me. How I fail to understand the goodness which He arches over me.

Sometimes the greatest unnerved wonder comes from the modesty and gentleness of His tender care, and the simple prayer which issues forth is only, “‘I am unworthy of all the kindness… You have shown…’” (Genesis 32:10).

Compassionate Rebuke

2008-02-18T20:05:00.000-08:00

First Samuel 3:13 reads, “‘For… I am about to judge [Eli’s] house forever for the iniquity which he knew, because his sons brought a curse on themselves and he did not rebuke them.’”

The level of responsibility seems somewhat astounding. Eli’s sons, Hophni and Phinehas, were – especially in their position of leadership as priests – highly accountable for their evil. Sentenced for both their defrauding of sacrifices (1 Sam. 2:12-17) and their promiscuity (v. 22), the two were slain in one day of battle (see 1 Sam. 2:34, 4:11).

And yet, Eli, their father, wasn’t immune either. For, though he had challenged his sons (“Why do you do such… evil things...?” 2:23), still the thirteenth verse in chapter three shows that his correction availed nothing, and was not even effective in dismissing him from responsibility. His house was to be judged “for the iniquity which he knew,” but “did not rebuke.”

Perhaps his choice to appease his sons in their transgression was from not wanting to create friction. Or maybe Eli was more interested in letting the two maintain their position and power. Yet whatever the reason, Eli’s inaction in dealing with his sons’ transgressions proves his attitude toward sin. For, had he been serious about their holiness, had his utmost desire been for their sanctification, he would have ‘delivered those who were being taken away to death’ (Pro. 24:11). Instead, he stood by and watched his sons bring upon themselves their own destruction.

And yet God does not deal with us that way. For, while God, who “is not mocked” (Gal. 6:7), will let us experience the consequences we have wrought, He does not stand idly by to let us destroy ourselves. Were He any less concerned with the gravity of sin, He would, like Eli, refrain from disciplining us. Yet Hebrews 12:10 explains the benevolence of His correction: “He disciplines us for our good, so that we may share His holiness.” The heart of His rebuke is not to blind-side us, or to torment, but rather, to purge us of what would ultimately yield our fatal undoing. His intention toward us is not to condemn, but rather, to convert us. Not to render us powerless, but purified.

Even the command in James 5:19-20 exposes the Lord’s desire for us: “My brethren, if any among you strays from the truth and one turns him back, let him know that he who turns a sinner from the error of his way will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.” Christ’s purpose is to employ those around us for our confession and consecration.

And so, what seems a high cost for not rebuking another’s sin, is actually a grace: that God, who exhorts us to live righteously before Him - ‘to do justice, to love righteousness, and to walk humbly with our God’ (see Micah 6:8) - would even extend to us the mercy of supplying those who would challenge us when we bring a curse upon ourselves.

Praise be to the One who so desires our deliverance, who so wills our being ‘held back from the slaughter’ (Pro. 24:11), that He would, through accountability, bind others to the well-being of our souls!

More Familiar

2008-01-26T10:31:00.000-08:00

burn through me,
course afresh
‘til Your presence becomes
more familiar
than my breath,
and all that is within me
yields itself to Your touch,
and all that is without me
bears witness
of Your hand upon my life -
whether to tear away
from that which will harm,
or to join me to
that which will ignite
in me a deeper passion
for Your heart

The Backside of Helplessness

2008-01-18T22:22:00.000-08:00

I had once joked about shaving my head. As I still, even two months later, gawk at the reflection in the mirror, I’m fairly sure this is as close as I ever want to come to that scenario. I had specifically explained to the hairdresser what I wanted, had even corrected her when she didn’t look to be following what I’d requested, and now have to live with the consequences of her having not listened.

I’ve creatively tried barrettes and scarves to cover the surface damage, but what I haven’t been able to cover is what a pair of cutting shears has left staring at me daily: that there are moments when our will is totally overridden by someone who wasn’t ‘listening.’ That, when we are left with no alternative but to accept the damage, when there is no easy way to hasten ourselves out of the painful repercussions, we have but one solution: to forgive.

It’s terribly easy to see forgiving as a last resort, our only viable option when all other resources are exhausted; when - backed into a corner - we have no other way to cope. And with that mistaken impression, we reckon that, conversely, retaliation must be a mark of strength; an exhibition of some control over an otherwise hopeless situation for our defense.

And yet we would then miss the backside of helplessness.

For it is where we had not the voice to counter the one offending, and could not overpower the person who sinned against us, that we are given the unique access to a power greater than that which spurred the offense. In every area where we submit to the consequences of the transgression, we are enabled to declare that what we forfeit is not a love for that person, but any desire for vengeance.

But how does that process translate when the reality staring back at us is the daily consequence of someone’s not obeying?

Forgiveness…

…leans on God’s righteousness as Judge

“…and while being reviled, He did not revile in return; while suffering, He uttered no threats, but kept entrusting Himself to Him who judges righteously” (1 Peter 2:23). As one pastor put it, the silence which Christ exhibited was majestic (see Matt. 26:63); a silence of ‘innocence, of integrity, of trust in His Father as Righteous Judge.’ When there is total confidence that “the eyes of the LORD move to and fro throughout the earth that He may strongly support those whose heart is completely His” (2 Ch. 16:9); when there is utmost conviction that God “knows the secrets of the heart” (Ps. 44:21), and is able to judge between one servant and another (see 2 Chronicles 6:23), we are then released from having to advocate for ourselves. For vindictiveness could not, in all its might, yield the justice which comes from entrusting our souls to our “faithful Creator in doing what is right” (1 Peter 4:19).

…learns to relinquish personal rights

“Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death…” (Ph. 2:8). Once we recognize that walking in like manner as our Savior means surrendering our fight for self-preservation, we are brought into the awareness that we are vessels, ambassadors of the message of His very life: “…namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation” (2 Corinthians 5:19). Praise be to God for eyes to see past the devil’s scheme of keeping us from pardoning another (2 Cor. 2:11), that we may likewise ‘empty ourselves’ (Ph. 2:7) and declare that we do not count our lives as ‘dear to ourselves,’ but only useful in the ministry which we received from the Lord Jesus (Acts 20:24).

…looks to benefit the offender

“But if we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation…” (2 Cor. 1:6). When we stand in the assurance that our ‘Advocate is on high’ (Job 16:19), and that we were called to exhibit the same self-sacrifice as our Master (Jn. 15:13), we are then freed to demonstrate, through the Holy Spirit’s power residing within us, that we would do ‘nothing from selfish ambition… but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than ourselves’ (Ph. 2:3). It is God’s sheer grace that, once we set our will to forgive, He would give us eyes by which we ‘recognize no one according to the flesh’ any longer (2 Cor. 5:16), but as a ‘fellow heir of the grace of life’ (1 Pe. 3:7). And it is through His vision in us that we can then determine to “do good” to those who hate, to “bless” those who curse (Luke 6:27-28). As Psalm 122:9 words it, what Christ has given us, in His example of sacrifice, and His power to forgive through us, is the strength to say to the one injuring us, “I will seek your good.”

For what we once considered sheer helplessness becomes, through God’s transforming good, the unique avenue by which we can state with wholehearted sincerity that we will seek the good of another; that we, enabled by His resurrection life, can be infused with the same power which raised Christ from the dead, and declare with our lives that we ‘have been called for this purpose, since Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example for us to follow in His footsteps’ (2 Pe. 2:21).

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
Romans 12:21

A Cardboard Box Hyena

2008-01-14T20:31:00.001-08:00

One of my students had been asking me for help in rounding out a part of her papier mache creature. When, today, I took a pair of scissors to her cardboard box hyena, and she watched me lop off a part of the shoulder, the horror which rang through her voice was apparent: “Miss Milco, what are you doing?!”

Though she soon saw how it solved the problem of making her hyena a little less boxy, her question still stands. For I, too, have asked my Teacher on many occasions: “What are You doing? You’re cutting away the very part I need. What are You doing? Didn’t You understand what I was asking? What are You doing? Your answer’s so different than what I’d meant - ”

To walk by faith does not, however, have anything to do with our discerning God’s reasons. We are no more called to know His specific aims than we are to “bind the chains of the Pleiades, or loose the cords of Orion” (Job 38:31). Our call is only to trust.

And that is where the difficulty arises. For we are a people absorbed with sight, with evidence which should motivate us to decide. We rely upon proof in everything from court cases to sales pitches. And we refuse to be swayed without cold, tangible reasons to believe.

Yet there is a beautiful example in Luke 5 which points us to the kind of obedience which Christ seeks:

Now it happened that while the crowd was pressing around Him and listening to the word of God, He was standing by the lake of Gennesaret; and He saw two boats lying at the edge of the lake; but the fishermen had gotten out of them and were washing their nets. And He got into one of the boats, which was Simon’s, and asked him to put out a little way from the land. And He sat down and began teaching the people from the boat. When He had finished speaking, He said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water, and let down your nets for a catch” (v. 1-4).

Why would He ask of them to do what all evidence pointed to the contrary of their accomplishing? Had He missed the discouragement on their faces? Why would He ask of them to try once more, when they had no reason to believe circumstances would be any different?

And yet, the command is a grace. For in it, He permits Peter to voice a faith which states, as resoundingly as Job’s (see Job 13:15), that it is not a matter of understanding what is being asked, but of knowing the One who is asking.

For Peter’s response comes in weariness, yet also in acknowledgement of three elements:

“Master…”

…that Christ remains his Lord, his Teacher; the only One who is wise, the very One to whom his allegiance, submission, and obedience are due.

“…we worked hard all night and caught nothing…”

…a recognition of the impossibility of circumstances; a human estimation of what is attainable, and what logic says should not be attempted.

“…but I will do as You say…”

…nevertheless, all trust is rightly placed in You alone. (Or, as the NIV words it even more emphatically, “…but because You say so, I will…”)

We are not given opposing circumstances that we may be undone, but rather, that we would recognize with grateful submission that – if God is asking – it is that He may supply us the opportunity to declare more fully our trust in His character. And so, when God brings us to those moments in which our trust of Him seems the greatest affront to logic, we have the joy of crying out, even as events confound our reasoning, that our certainty of Him (2 Tim. 1:12) runs deeper than our ability to discern what lies around us.

For either we can look at the horror and discouragement of the circumstances, and declare that God’s character is contingent upon those transient elements of life; or we can look to His immutable character, and state emphatically, even where “sight” cannot bridge itself to understanding, “My God, in whom I trust!” (Psalm 91:2).

A Resounding Melody

2007-12-27T10:25:00.000-08:00

Arrived at my parents’ house to discover a sweet surprise. Sitting in the guest room was a familiar instrument which I had mentioned a couple months ago as wanting to practice again. Had, during a stressful week of conferences this November, taken a little time to plunk out some sounds on an old upright piano at the school, and have since wanted to return to some of the songs I had once played when I was studying piano.

To find that small, black keyboard waiting for me was a treasure, not only because of the joy of being able to play, but also – far more – because of the fact that a desire I had voiced had been remembered, and provided for.

Added to that, it was as I played that I recognized that, the tune I’d written when I was about fifteen (the only song which comes so easily to my fingertips) was written on that very keyboard. And so I am struck by several glimpses of God’s dealings with us.

For one, He is mindful of our desires, precisely because He is the One in Whom they originated. As Psalm 87:8 proclaims, “‘All my springs of joy are in You.’” What delight have we in anything found outside of Him? Ecclesiastes only reiterates: “For who can eat and who can have enjoyment without Him?” (2:25). As one friend worded it, we have no need to look outside of God for our “worth, protection, or comfort.” All we lack is found within Him; all of our needs are only meant to point us back to the One who alone can satisfy.

For another thing, His unfolding of that provision underscores, in how comprehensively it fulfills, that He has always been addressing the longing. Though His timing may not correspond with our haughty demands, what He bestows proves, in its quality, to far transcend that which we would have hastened to secure for ourselves. As Isaiah 64:4 and 1 Corinthians 2:9 agree, what God has prepared has not even entered the heart of man; the goodness which He grants, as Father of Lights (Js. 1:17), is so far above what we could appreciate or anticipate (see Eph. 3:20-21).

Added to the fact that our desires are born of Him and met in Him, there is also the reality that He would make us acutely aware of Who the Source is; Who is behind the ache, and Who is completing the fulfillment. Just as I can look at that old keyboard and see that it is there that God inspired a simple song, and let me enjoy for the first time the delight of music’s pouring through me, so there are moments when He draws us to the very point where He first introduced us... to our incompletion, to our recognition of what we knew (innately, by His grace) to be our good. He does not leave us wandering, or in some other region, detached from what He will complete in us (Ph. 1:6). Instead it is to His delight to return us to the foundation, where that ‘song’ was birthed.

And so, while it is not God’s plan to fulfill every longing we have this side of heaven, there is still the recognition (which the Enemy so often blinds us to) that our God, the One who joys over us (see Zeph. 3:17), who most willingly gives good gifts to His children (see Luke 11:11-13), has designed for us to receive. And it is not to our shame to be indebted. Instead, it is to our delight to accept from His hands that which He has lovingly prepared for us. For it is when we accept from Him that we submit ourselves to the truth of His character: that it is His ‘open hand’ which ‘satisfies the desire of every living thing’ (Psalm 145:16).

The Formula That Doesn't Work

2007-11-23T10:09:00.000-08:00

For some reason it seems popular to Christian thought that obedience garners exactly what we have asked God for. That, if we just “let go,” God will give us back exactly what we’ve relinquished. That sheer submission will mean that He’ll answer our prayers as we’ve strategically laid them out before Him. As though God were formulaic. As though we discerned our best.

Such a train of thought leaves me incensed.

Obedience doesn’t make life “better.” It left Christ in a garden with His face in the dirt. It left Peter hanging from a cross as well. And Paul, in prison countless times because he was compelled to preach the Gospel (1 Cor. 9:16). It seems more a message of mainstream Christendom that ‘life is golden’ when we start obeying.

I’ve seen the opposite.

Instead of greater ease, obedience will lead us down a road of greater sorrow, where our heart comes to break more like Christ’s did… for the student whose parents are reticent to show him any love, for the teenager who has to raise her own parents, for the church leadership that is under constant attack. Obedience identifies us more with the Suffering Servant. Why do we, as Christians, “market” our faith as making this earthly life easier?

Obedience steps us into that foreign realm, where we can’t stridently demand from God what we initially cling to. Instead, a submissive attitude leaves us open to two possibilities, and both blow the “formula.”

The first is unconditional relinquishment, where we leave in God’s hands what we think we most fiercely need; where He withholds from us what ultimately wouldn’t have been to our wellbeing. The second potential which obedience opens us up to, is that we are favored with an unmerited grace so exceeding our ability to pray that we are drawn more fully into the knowledge of His grace.

God is indeed a “rewarder of those who seek Him” (Hebrews 11:6). The difficulty is in distinguishing that God’s rewards come in different forms than will fit the boundaries we’ve tried defining. While I can’t recall a time when He’s given exactly what I’ve prayed, there are innumerable times in which He has mercifully prevented me from the harm which my ignorance would have rendered, and has exceeded my most hopeful expectations which my short-sightedness could never have perceived. The things I’ve let go were what He sought to use for different purposes; the things I haven’t yet thought to pray, He’s preparing.

We are foolish to trust in God’s answers on our own terms. We serve a God who doesn’t conform to our finite thinking; whose refusal to be “formulaic” leaves us with the unfathomable certainty that He, who ‘supports our lot’ (Psalm 16:5), is the same who does ‘abundantly beyond all that we ask or think’ (Ephesians 3:20). “To Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen” (v. 21).

A Spell-Check Society

2007-09-29T08:11:00.000-07:00

Not that I’m overly intrigued by how to spell the word “zucchini,” but it strikes me: when the heavy, old dictionary is sitting on my shelf, and my laptop is within arm’s reach, I’m far more prone to type in my best guess, and let autocorrect take over.

Perhaps I do that too much with what I’m to be learning in general; maybe I’ve deemed it easier to let myself be corrected by default, and never actually recognize that knowing how to "spell" has intrinsic value.

Is it not easier (or at least seemingly more convenient at the onset) to forge ahead with however we think life should go, and let God “autocorrect” us, than to start out submitting to His throne? Isn’t it more tempting to let ‘recuperation’ efforts be the drain on our energies, than to actually do what we were originally told would ‘profit’ us?

And yet Isaiah 48:17 states plainly why His instruction is life to us:

“‘This is what the LORD says –
your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel:
“I AM the LORD your God,
who teaches you what is best for you,
who directs you in the way you should go.”’”

Our waiting to be ‘caught’ rather than diligently applying ourselves to “treasure” His word in our heart (Psalm 119:11), completely undermines us in the purpose for which we were created. For, when we are expecting that God will “amend” where we are “off,” nothing in us is actually learning to “fear God and keep His commandments,” though that is the ‘whole duty’ of man (Ecclesiastes 12:13).

What insight we would borrow from the Scripture - what ruptured communion (Zech. 1:3), what entrapment by the Enemy (2 Cor. 2:11), what heartache over our transgression (Psalm 51:3), we would spare ourselves - if we only applied to our lives the words which would guard us from unrighteousness to start; if our heart’s cry were not, “Lord, save me!” (Matthew 14:30), but rather, “Show me Your ways, O LORD, teach me Your paths; guide me in Your truth and teach me… God my Savior” (Psalm 25:4-5).

Godly Repentance

2007-09-28T17:14:00.000-07:00

There are few things which irk me as much as manipulation or defiance. When one of my students went down to the office today to get an ice pack for an injured finger, I expected that she would rejoin the activities in class. After much crying, and her being told that she couldn’t make another trip to the office, she left the room and specifically did what I had told her not to.

When she came back a little later, and I confronted her, my tone restrained nothing of my disapproval. She quickly ran behind my desk, and quietly took some time. Figuring she was sorry at having gotten into trouble, I resumed working with the students at the table where I was sitting.

A little while later, she came up behind me, her hood still over her head and the tears streaking her face. Instead of saying a word to justify herself, she wrapped her arm across my shoulder and put her head against me, quietly crying. And I could only hold her arm, and try soothing her… because, all of a sudden, I realized that what squeezed those tears to the surface was not her anger at being caught, but her remorse in having disappointed me. I might have recognized that look the minute I’d started scolding –

How our relationship with our Father is to be one in which our tears are not a self-pitying anguish at having been convicted of our wrongdoing, but a deep sadness over how we have failed the One we long to please. How prone we often are to see God as filled with wrath, to the point that we huddle in some corner, rendered alienated, rather than restored. Yet He longs for us to come running to Him, and weep upon Him. To forsake the pride which defied Him, and to fall against Him in true penitence, seeking only the privilege of again being able to please Him.

What greater promise of hope exists than within that genuine grief, for in it lies renewed opportunity to obey, and to let Him right us with His will. As one devotional puts it, ‘The tears of godly repentance have been sweet.’

May our tears ever be to Him that welcoming plea which beckons that He invade us more fully than ever before ~

Glorious Tension

2007-09-27T19:38:00.000-07:00

Free will tends to stay one of those esoteric quandaries that is fascinating for contemplation – until its existence crashes into the reality we inhabit.

For some reason, it’s so much more palatable to numbly assert that Christ was under obligation (as we were His creation) to free us from our mess, than to stand the sight that – while He could have chosen not to redeem us – still He undertook the painful, nasty battle to bring us back. Ezekiel 16:59-60 makes it clear: “‘For thus says the Lord GOD, “I will also do with you as you have done… Nevertheless, I will remember My covenant with you in the days of your youth…”’” Void of any ‘mandatory duty,’ God sacrificed Himself because of His volition, and quite apart from our state, in relation to Him.

Our free will is an uncomfortable glimpse at His not ordaining “coercion” the status quo, but instead supplying us all the liberty to move into spheres which would yield searing pain and grievous repercussions. Could our desiring Him freely really have been “counterbalanced” (were spiritual matters quantifiable) by the costliness meant to Him? Why is there greater value in giving us the allowance of setting our hearts elsewhere, than in simply denying us that free choosing, and having us at least abide in right standing with Him, untainted by sin; innocent and holy?

Part of me can fully appreciate that true fellowship could not exist apart from deliberate devotion. There would be no method of securing genuine vulnerability or openness, if not for a will intentionally set on giving back to our Father in that manner. And I can recognize even that the greatest honor is in our choosing Him without any “incentive” outside of knowing Him and enjoying His presence.

Yet what disturbs my finite mind is more to do with the way our “testing,” the purification of our love for Him, cannot be separated in any way from our having all of those pain-filled options available to us. Why can’t we simply declare that we are dedicated, and then let God “lock in” our decision? Why must there still be a propensity to wander? Why must our having a ‘choice’ remain ever in operation?

For, if devotion needs a continual purifying, if a set will cannot endure apart from the constant renewal of withstanding those temptations, then are we not always susceptible to falling? Would we not be far “safer” if we could only be deprived of that choosing – and no pitfalls could anymore overtake us?

But that is not God’s way. The pain must exist. The pain we cause Him, and that which we cause others, and that which we must bear – Appealing as it is to be “stripped of free will,” unable to harm or be hurt, the elimination of pain cannot “balance,” cannot even touch on, the goodness of being in that unhindered communion of fearless, abounding love (see 1 John 4:16-18).

What greater knife is rendered? True. But what greater honor, shown to Him, or experienced ourselves, than to be the one freely chosen – as recipient of willing and devoted sacrifice?

A privilege which could not exist outside of that state where pain is also possible.

Always

2007-09-07T17:33:00.001-07:00

I only saw my goal;
I couldn’t see the consequence, I didn’t think of You.

All my energies were invested in “solutions” of my design.
I couldn’t see beyond my own energies.
Couldn’t taste more than my harried breath and strained brow.

The ugly cost of residing in “me;”
Of washing this soul in dust,
And having fumbling eyes
Which fail, and fail again.

And could it be that I stand
Now in You,
Not even clean “enough,”
But clean in full -- ?

Nothing in me could grant a standing here,
A position - of righteousness - so well forsaken by these hands.

Yet here I am.
Fully Yours, and fully cleansed.
Departed from iniquity,
Without its trace upon me.

And I can only bow.
At feet more pure than I could speak,
Which, nail-pierced and raw, still tell,
Were given for this pricey lot;
This reneged so costly.

Were You more captured in Your gaze
Upon my own rich blot,
Would I not suffer as I deem,
My actions measured, and condemned unto the death
I have worked so hard to earn?

But poured upon this soul,
You drape Yourself over me,
Hugging to Yourself the crimes,
And criminal alike.

And I am Yours.
Fully Yours,
And always.

Mark me Yours,
Fully Yours,
For always.

Quick Time

2007-09-01T12:14:00.000-07:00

I’m wearing my watch, which may sound insignificant… but it’s been broken for a while, and I’ve been without.

It broke without warning. One of the pins on the chain simply fell out one evening while I was putting away a mic stand, and I could never find the little metal link. And so, I’ve been “timeless,” as a friend once joked, for quite a while.

Decided to hunt down a repair shop today, which became a rather frustrating task. The first shop, I’m convinced, does not exist (or else I simply haven’t gotten any better at adjusting to these huge city shopping complexes). The next one I found was closed, though they claimed to be having a sale today.

It was only after I’d decided to head for my last stop that I unexpectedly drove past a jeweler. And so, when that final errand was done, I took the chance. I walked in, and before the man who was paying at the cash register had even finished his transaction, a woman from behind the counter was taking my broken, little watch from my hand. I didn’t even have a chance to show her the break; she quickly inspected the piece, passed it to the man doing repairs, and – within five minutes – my watch was back on my wrist, for an unreasonably low price.

I had already given up on getting it fixed today. (Had even whined that I get tired of how God leaves things “broken.”) But the errands were, as He’d given the impression before I started out this morning, in some way to His glory.

What amazes me is that brokenness can be left for a time, until He – with wisdom which transcends everything but His mercy – quickly, compassionately mends the disrepair to which we’ve actually grown accustomed.

Sometimes it is precisely that prolonged state of brokenness which serves as the best advent for His swift movement, because it is only then that we can see how His refraining was as much under control as His acting. And when, with incredible speed, He brings about the culmination of what He’s sworn by Himself to do, then we, like those who reveled in His cleansing of the temple (2 Chronicles 29:36), can ‘rejoice over what God had prepared for the people because the thing came about suddenly.’

A feat that no one but our timeless God could do --

Resuscitate

2007-09-01T08:35:00.000-07:00

quietly unnerved
unwrapped before Your mastery of me,
and all transparency,
not begrudging yet frightfully raw –
how You enter in so powerfully –

undoing all i thought i owned,
remaking all the claims i’d kept –
until my hands grow limp, and cold –
and grief anew breaks me afresh
on all the treachery, all the lies
i clung more fiercely to
than You, my Love,
my Sovereign King

...in tyranny removed
from that design, the good i need –
You wrest me from the captor’s hold
and break me back to You
in merciful repose
which captures but Your love for me,
a rich deliverance
for which i am unworthy

You bring me back, You rest me here:
You minister in full –
that, all proclaimed, what shouts forth
is but a glory of the Judge,
who – seeing my depravity –
would sooner my naked shame
than my soul diseased

praise – for rescue from death;
all praise – for wrenching me from fears –
that i, Your child, may inhabit that realm
where, presented to You, I bear Your Name,
a character infused with mankind --
a purity which should not be mine;
a holy heart, made righteous at Your hand

all praise to You who has
commanded my health
and restoration undiluted
with the Holy One to whom i belong

my life, my soul – Your possession

conquer yet again
all that is Yours, Most Holy Lord

Hannah (Part 765)

2007-08-07T17:58:00.000-07:00

Though I tend to reference her quite often, the reality is that Hannah has remained a significant source of contemplation, as well as a great many of my questions.

Am stuck again on the thought of God’s hearing our prayer, but “remembering” us at a different time. As Psalm 138:3 states, “On the day I called, You answered me.” And yet, His action on our behalf may bring “sight” so much later –

And so, as I wonder how it is to our benefit to specifically go without immediate results to our requests, I look at the life of this woman who, by the time she was dedicating her son to the Lord, did so fully, purely, and with praise on her lips (see 1 Samuel 2). Nothing in her relinquished with regret or bitterness, and so much of me reluctantly recognizes that it was the length of the wait that purified her of the fallacies of “entitlement.”

Would I question as much if I could see that the prayers offered, those very pleas breathed by the Holy Spirit, were but to align me, not in anticipation for an answer, but instead, for a fuller relinquishment?

I so often harbor this expectation that the patience demonstrated makes the final answer, the bestowal of the request, all the more “hard-earned,” as though I battled hard, fought ‘on my knees’ with perseverance, in order that I might have what is then placed in my hands. But I sorely fail to see that the reason the battle was so tedious, the wait so trying, was not so that I could be justified in what I receive. Rather, it was so that I would understand, long before God ever laid in my hands that gift, that it was never mine to keep ~

To God, to whom ‘everything under heaven belongs’ (Job 41:11), be the glory for lending us what we are privileged to offer back.

Koa and Clover

2007-07-30T15:07:00.000-07:00

Often marvel at how tirelessly I mistake as God’s ultimate purpose the surface markers of His activity. My trip to Hawaii, for example, was not – as I had anticipated – about my teaching VBS, but about God’s solidifying in me two aspects of His character. I needed to be there, where He could implement two particular elements as evidence of His being my perfect Advocate and personal Comforter.

Koa…

I had gone to Hawaii with the intention of finding a certain item, made out of Koa, a wood which is native to the island, and which is just as gorgeous in its sheen as it is rare.

And so, God gave me the gift of being hemmed in…. In every wood store I checked (from Hilo to Kona), there was nothing remotely close to what I was looking for, and, with limited transportation, my outings were already restricted. Added to that, when a friend recalled that there was a store in Waimea, where I was staying, my work schedule in Kohala kept me out of town during every possible store hour.

And so God worked into place one who would not only go to the store and do the legwork for me, but would volunteer to take pictures of the shop items available, pass on recommendations, then even insist upon going to the shop the next day just to ensure that I wouldn’t leave the island without having purchased what I’d been seeking.

When, that following day, I walked into my living quarters to see a package lying on the table, my name written across the brown paper bag in big cursive letters, I melted. God had not only carried on in someone else the desire He’d first planted in me, but He had even eliminated all of my own efforts so that what I saw sitting on that table was a gift purely wrought of His undertaking, His advocacy on my behalf.

Clover…

A friend of mine insightfully noted that it is often only when we’re removed from our typical “ministry” duties that we ever ‘let down.’ And so it was, when – out of my element, and emotionally raw – all I could do was flop down against the garage wall and stare out over a field of clovers, bracing myself against the wind and letting the silent tears cascade down my cheeks.

What so fascinated me was that, when I consciously sensed God’s pressing in on me, and I finally asked Him to “speak,” His answer didn’t come in a quiet whisper, but almost immediately in the approach of a friend who came to patiently listen. For as I sat there, with another human being who was willing to ‘stare at clovers’ with me, I was mindful of God’s refusal to leave me in solitude or despair. He had intentioned that, when I was adrift, I be met with the reality that He is not a God to leave us alone, but to faithfully extend His presence and solace.

How prone we are to think that God’s greatest concerns are in grand planning and elaborate projects, when, in fact, sometimes His largest mission is simply to have reverberating within us His words, “I am with you… for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you. Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10).

Peering Past

2007-06-19T22:15:00.000-07:00

Among the celebrations that mark the closing of the academic year is the inevitable glut of school field trips during the last week of school. When we departed for one such event today, a trip to visit the workplace of one third grade girl's father, I was concerned to see one of the second grade children acting out – chasing others, yelling like a child of a younger grade, and seeming more disruptive than I had ever seen. Although I wrote it off as being excitement over the end of the year, and a less structured week, I was still concerned that, if she didn’t settle down, this characteristically good-natured child would make a long day for all involved.

When we arrived at the recycling center for our tour, she quickly quieted down – and then, just as promptly, found a student to drape herself across, and start distracting. Her mother, who was standing nearby, gave her several comments to re-direct her, but she repeatedly found a way to glom on to a fellow student rather than pay attention to the parent guide.

After a short span of too many little outbursts and dangerous interactions, the mother knelt down, whispered a few words to her, and all of a sudden, the tiny eight-year-old was crumpled in her mother’s arms, in tears. I had no idea what was said; had no inkling as to why the tears – Her mother, holding her steadily, tried to reassure the cognizant onlookers with the words that it wasn’t anything that had happened, but was something going on within her: that is was ‘her problem’ –

There was tenderness, and so private a nature in the mother as she concealed her daughter’s reason for tears. Yet there was an equally intimate knowledge of her child’s manner, and poignancy in the way her words to the girl could be so meager, yet cut to the heart of what was disturbing her youngster.

I don’t know that I would have been as struck by the parental discernment and compassion – except that God had dealt with me in like manner before I left for school this morning. I had spent the better part of last night “throwing fits,” and fashioning increasingly more reasons not to trust my spiritual Father, until – by this morning, when a rush of venom came from me – it was His whisper which suddenly brought me to shuddering tears. His piercing understanding of me which knew the cause, and could immediately unfasten the hurt which lay behind the raging; His gentle dealings which “shattered” me in an instant, rendering me so broken as to only be able to crumple in His arms.

I don’t know how He can “unwrap” me so easily; how He can pinpoint in that quiet moment what the real concern is; or even why He would stave off others who, with curiosity, could not understand us as He does. I only know that my Father, the One upon whom my tears are shed, is faithful, kind, and wise. And that, in His dealings with me, He sees past the outburst to comfort the pain behind it.

“How deep the Father’s love for us, how vast beyond all measure…”

I Am Your Child

2007-06-03T17:33:00.000-07:00

I am Your child, Lord.
You can break me;
You can mend me.
You can ease me;
You can rest me.
You can bind me;
You can melt me.
You can hold me;
You can lift me.
You can use me;
You can lend me.
You can free me;
You can guide me.
You can burn me;
You can heal me.
You protect me;
You can flood me.
You can light me;
You can spur me.
You can drench me;
You can know me.
You can blind me;
You can wisen --
You can harden;
You can hem me.
You can judge me;
You can save me.
You can please me;
You can warm me.
You can soften --
You can banish.
You can cradle;
You can ache for --
You can brandish;
You can wield –
You can teach me;
You correct me.
You can die for --
You embrace me.
You can comfort.
You can lead me.
You amend me;
You can tear me.
You re-shape me.
You re-build me.
You can counsel;
You indict me.
You forgive me;
You incite me –
You can hear me;
You can grace me –
You can temper;
You arouse me.
You can grieve me;
You delight me –
You can curse me;
You can favor –
You can honor;
You can chastise.
You can shine through –
You can linger –
You can dwell in;
You illumine –
You can work through –
You can speak to –
You lament for –
You can cry through –
You commune with –
You can nourish.
You can quiet;
You can cherish;
You can sing through –
You can weep in –
You can master –
You possess me.
You can speak through –
You can alter.
You can wrestle;
You appeal to.
You can ‘call out;’
You can cleanse ‘white.’
You can urge me;
You restrain me.
You can silence;
You employ me.
You inspire me;
You relieve me.
You can pour out -
You can fill me.
You can stay me;
You can rescue –
You can ravage;
You can shelter.
You can try me;
You can “steel” me.
You can solace;
You can strip me.
You can fashion –
You can strike me.
You can warn me;
You convict me.
You amaze me;
You control me.
You can humble;
You can change me.
You can seal me;
You can mark me.
You can find me;
You can challenge –
You pursue me;
…overcome me;
…richly chase me.
…overwhelm me;
You avenge me;
You defend me.
You ‘repay’ me;
You sustain me.
You can press me;
You can lighten –
You rejoice through –
You reflect in –
You refine me;
You can pierce me.
You define me…
…for I am Your child.

Little Thoughts on Big Questions

2007-04-21T10:39:00.000-07:00

The troubling tension came to light again today in 2 Samuel 24:1, where God's anger is cited as the reason for David's fatal mistake of ‘numbering’ his men, and so costing Israel 70,000 lives within days:

“…the anger of the LORD burned against Israel, and He incited David against them, saying, ‘Go, and take a census…’”

Why would God stir up David to something which would not only be a prideful act, but would also bring about such destruction – except that He had ordained judgment, and found in David a tool by which to execute it?

Ezekiel 3:20 also touches on the thought of God’s instituting a stumbling block so as to bring about a downfall: “‘… when a righteous man turns away from his righteousness and commits iniquity, and I place an obstacle before him, he will die…’”

It isn’t that God would tempt anyone to evil (see James 1:13-14), but that – like when He gave permission to a “deceiving spirit” to ‘entice and prevail’ against Ahab, already condemned (1 Kings 22:22-23) – He is implementing what look like less-than-righteous tools to bring about a righteous result.

...which leaves me puzzling. It was Pharaoh’s hardness of heart which brought the liberation of Israel; Joseph’s imprisonment which preserved Egypt in famine; Christ’s crucifixion which delivered us from death. The tools God chooses are rarely pleasant to behold.

And yet, does that make God Machiavellian in nature? A ruler who, disregarding the brutality of the “means,” is occupied only with the final outcome? And how could He – unless He had relinquished some of His authority – maintain total benevolence while having full control over every evil action?

Perhaps the flaw is in thinking that the tools must reflect the nature of the One using them. Perhaps it is my own short-sightedness which argues that, in order for God to preserve His righteousness, He could not “dirty” His hands with those aspects of our Fall - hardness of heart, deception, prideful scheming – which He despises, and which are so contrary to His nature.

But perhaps what I miss is that God omnipotent, whose judgments are righteous (Psalm 7:11; Psalm 96:13) and whose kindness is over all His works (Psalm 145:9, 17; Psalm 119:68), has taken hold of His prerogative to wield any tool He wishes. He does not give His approval to pride and deceit, any more than He does to nails and thorns. Nor does He “resort” to utilizing such hateful tools, as though He must salvage good through some lesser means. Instead, He chooses to use those very items of darkness as pawns in its unraveling.

For He yields the most thorough victory, not in destroying the Enemy with weapons of righteousness, but in defeating him with the very ammunition the Foe had brandished against Him. For in wielding His power over those destructive forces which have most opposed His righteousness, God presents proof that there is nothing within His hands which He cannot masterfully employ for good. As Psalm 119:91 says to our Risen and Righteous Lord with utter persuasion: “All things are Your servants.”

Misconstrued

2007-04-10T09:45:00.000-07:00

Hannah is one who experienced cruel provocation from one closely acquainted with her struggle over barrenness (1 Samuel 1:6-7). She knew great distress from both the [public] stigma of her condition and the unfulfilled [personal] desire (v. 15). She even knew the sacrifice of walking through the fulfillment of her vow to the Lord (v. 22, 24, 28).

Yet, what strikes me as perhaps the most acute sting lies not in the way she was tormented by a rival, or grieved by a sharp longing, but how it was when she was most raw before her God that she was accused of wrongdoing. “As she kept on praying to the LORD, Eli observed her mouth. Hannah was praying in her heart, and her lips were moving but her voice was not heard. Eli thought she was drunk and said to her, ‘How long will you keep on getting drunk? Get rid of your wine’” (1 Samuel 1:12-14).

When all of the outside pressures – the ridicule, the hopelessness, the shame – seemed to pound in on her, she laid herself before the Throne, with the hope of being heard, and of making sacrifice. She had made God her refuge, had sought His face (Psalm 119:58); had stood in vulnerability, not questioning God for His withholding. Humbled before her Creator, she was willing only that she could give back to Him (1 Samuel 1:11).

And yet, it was as she stood there with an audience before her Sovereign, that her earnestness was viewed as immorality. Hannah’s heartfelt cries were construed as drunkenness; her fervent petition somehow perceived as delusion. She was rebuked by one who was close enough to witness her tears, but who was unable to discern that her heart was right with God.

At first it strikes me as a lamentable and needless form of salt to an already tender wound.

And yet, God had specifically ordained that Eli react to something which he saw in Hannah. Perhaps the Lord exposed Eli to Hannah’s vulnerability to have him witness that raw transparency before one’s Maker; or perhaps even to challenge him later with the tangible answer to Hannah’s prayers (1 Samuel 1:26-27). Whatever the case, God had pulled him near enough to Hannah’s grief to catch a glimpse of pure surrender, and later, the power God is permitted through such an offering.

Maybe God's greatest purpose in her tears was not even in readying her to become the vessel He wanted, but in providing the avenue by which He could speak to the one beside her. For she became testimony that God will accomplish the impossible; but, perhaps even more powerfully, she also became evidence that sometimes man hastily perceives as delusion that which is the very manifestation of God’s desire within us ~

Time Stamp

2007-04-07T11:34:00.000-07:00

Had some work to do in downtown San Jose this morning, and pulled into a rather empty parking lot. There were bags covering the ticket machines, and, not sure if there was a fee for parking on Saturdays, I left my car there – a total of 49 minutes – then pulled away with a horrible, nagging feeling. Even as I was leaving the lot itself, there was this sense that something wasn’t right –

I drove nearly all the way home, then – on San Tomas Aquino, two minutes from my house, made a U turn. I had knowingly stifled the Spirit’s tugging; I had to make the trek back, for the sake of being right with the One who kept pulling in on me – I had to at least see if the machine in the middle of the lot would have taken my money.

The only problem, I could reckon, was that – even if I could get a ticket with a time stamp for the same amount of time my car had originally been there, I’d have to wait that length of time again to “clock out,” which would mean I’d still not be paying for that first stint. Still robbery.

I was justified in returning. The machine took my money. But what I marveled at was how simple: I only had to pay a flat rate, which meant that the time I’d spent there was “paid in full.” No having to wait around; neither would I be driving away only having rendered a partial amount.

And several elements of Christ’s forgiveness grew apparent:

➢ The nudging of the Spirit cannot be ignored without a (gracious!) sense of guilt; the inward uneasiness has to be deliberately fought for us to sin (1 Thessalonians 5:19).
➢ We can trust fully the promptings which God lends us by His protective Spirit. There is no path which He does not fill with either His favor or His warning (Isaiah 30:21; Deuteronomy 11:26-28).
➢ It is only in the trek back to where we had made that decision that our sin is righted; it is only in our willingness to re-enter that place of wrong-doing that we can watch God’s justification be exhibited through us (Zechariah 1:3; Hosea 6:1; Hosea 14:1).
➢ He has supplied us a way to be made “righteous” before Him; He has carved out the exact path we’re to take to be brought back into communion with Him (Acts 2:37-38).
➢ Once that transaction is made, there is no longer a payment to be received; the full amount has been accepted (John 19:30).

Yet, undoubtedly what I marvel at the most is the time stamp – for it was when I arrived home, having been washed of the guilt that I couldn’t be released of without that return, I peered at the stamp. I had decided to turn around at about 10:00 AM, and by the time I got to the lot, it was probably about a quarter past, but the ticket I had in my hand had registered my payment as being made, not at 10:15 AM - but at 9:42 AM.

Praise be to the One who not only presses in us, but has already forgiven us long before we heed His voice --

Fixed Point

2007-03-19T21:59:00.000-07:00

“For there the LORD commanded the blessing – life forever.”
~ Psalm 133:3

Strange to link a blessing to a particular place, as though geographic location could be the only evidence that God’s promise is trustworthy; that His faithfulness is genuine. And yet, as one friend noted not long ago, the Promised Land’s desirability didn’t lie in the physical inheritance as much as in the fact that it served as a sign: proof that the Israelites were the people in a covenant relation with the One true God.

Part of the mystery of His favor is that He selects the very place where it will reside. He “commands” His blessing to fall over one place, and no other holds that special commendation. Zion alone was where He would grant “life forever.” The way is narrow –

Perhaps it is more of a grace than we realize: that God has not left us many options; that there aren’t “several ways” to exist within His covenant, or various means to discover His eternal rest. For if there were many opportunities, would we not, in our self-striving, come upon ways that were lesser? Instead, by His gracious choosing, there is but one, and all others lead to ‘death’ and destruction (see Proverbs 16:25) – that we might stay the course for which we were intended.

And yet, even when we choose a path which diverges, He has given us the grace of that fixed point. For while we may stray from that place of His blessing, there is – because He has established it as His desire – no time at which that location will be altered or removed:

“For the LORD has chosen Zion;
He has desired it for His habitation.
This is My resting place forever...”
~ Psalm 132:13-14

Perhaps the greatest gift is not His favor itself, His promise to ‘abundantly bless the provision’ (Psalm 132:15), but His specifically leaving immovable that place where He first declared His blessing to rest. He has delineated clearly where His favor abides, the one pathway by which we can enter into a faith relationship with Him. Yet perhaps even more profound a gift is His having left that location unchanged - because, understanding His wayward creatures to need a reference point, He has designed that His favor be awaiting us in the exact place from which we had departed it --

As C.S. Lewis makes the analogy, our sin's yield is like an arithmetic problem, in which the only way to contend with it is to ‘re-work it from that point of error.’ Does our Maker not know us that well, that He should foresee on our behalf the gracious provision? Has He not planned so strategically where our only good lies, that - when we have tired of our sinning - the very place where we can retreat to His favor is the only place He ever commanded its bestowal?

Made To Be Worn Out

2007-02-15T20:24:00.000-08:00

As a teacher, I have come to the contented acknowledgment that my knees were made to be worn out. They have no other purpose. They are to serve me in kneeling beside a crying child when nerves have given him a tummy ache; to hold a reticent child when she is making her best effort to rejoin the group, but would still like comfort; to catch one of my “live wires” when he’s sitting on me before I even have a lap! Were my knees not used and wearied, they wouldn’t need to exist.

So often, we as Christians convince ourselves that we must maintain some semblance of reserves, as though holding back would make us more useful in service. We assert that, were we completely drained, we’d bear no witness; we’d be of no usefulness to others. Perhaps we would only justify our holding on to those last vestiges of “self,” that we might see our service as a reflection of who we think ourselves to be.

Yet we are not called to resist being ‘poured out.’ As Paul writes in Philippians 2:17, “But even if I am being poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I rejoice…” In 2 Timothy 4:6, he echoes his submission to that call: “For I am already being poured out as a drink offering…” And Philippians 2:6-7 points us to the supreme Example: “Christ… emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant…”

The issue isn’t whether we are willing to invest in what we know our calling to be. The question is only how willing we are to see our “selves” ended as the hindrance to His ministering through us.

For we were made to be worn out.

He never intended that we would have resources upon which we could rely; He never beckoned us to trust our own reasoning (Proverbs 3:5; Psalm 37:5). And even now, He wouldn’t maintain that we should hold out, sparing our last fiber of strength to use for Him. Instead, the beauty of His call is that, were we not used up, drained out, poured down, broken apart, we wouldn’t need to exist. We are only here to be offered up, a “drink offering” to the service and sacrifice of others.

Depletion, in its splendor, offers the humble joy of living as we were intended: vessels through which He manifests that the ‘surpassing greatness of the power [is] of God and not ourselves’ (2 Corinthians 2:7).

To the One who was never ashamed to live transparently ‘drained,’ we are called to dedicate our lives. Or rather, we are creatures who are meant only to be hollowed out, that we might be filled up with Glory Divine, who would humbly entreat entry in order to display Himself through us.

We are not here for ourselves, or to serve any purpose which stems from such thinking. As Acts 20:24 words it, “But I do not consider my life of any account as dear to myself, so that I may finish my course and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus…” We are brought to our only useful state when all within us cries, as one song prays it, “Take my time on this earth; let it glorify all that You are worth, for I am nothing, I am nothing, without You.”

The Mark of Authenticity

2007-01-12T19:44:00.000-08:00

Attraction falls pitifully short. Admiration cannot approach. Affection merely counterfeits.

Christ did not love with any such pretense or flimsy affectation. Instead He proclaimed in His flesh what it is to “love your enemies, and do good… expecting nothing in return…” (Luke 6:35). All He could give was poured out, all He could surrender was offered.

There was in Him the stark acceptance of the cost, and – without ‘shrinking back’ – He submitted Himself to the altar. He acted solely of His volition - specifically lacking any incentive supplied by us - and became for us a ‘drink offering… poured out upon the sacrifice and service of our faith’ (Philippians 1:29). He came, not to be esteemed, nor even well-received, but rather, to “accept joyfully” the seizure (Heb. 10:34) of all that was His, in order to bless the one for whom He had come.

There is inherent to love the one mark of authenticity: the committed will which refuses to retreat from sheer sacrifice. God does not bear kindly “good wishes,” but instead – regardless of our state – comes to us with His offer: His all, for our sake, despite whether we are reticent to accept. The gritty, brutal price He'd determined was already delivered on behalf of His intended: the sacrifice was not withheld on any basis.

And we are left with the piercing reality that “we” were never the determining factor; that He never awaited our reciprocation before laying Himself down. He was not willing to give only to the extent that He would find receptivity, but to the full extent of His love, for the Giver was not to be constrained.

And so we are called to act. He has shown us that unyielding, faithful love in the flesh. Why do we suppose we would be called just shy of exhibiting that same Spirit? Instead, we are to act regardless of response, indicating the focus of our faith: that our eyes look not to man, but to God. Our ambition is not to find favor with fellow creatures, but only to entertain audience with Almighty God, who Himself originated selflessness.

We can invest ourselves in superficial attempts to secure a mutual response, but until we abide in the risk of unrestrained sacrifice on behalf of another, we have not come to love; we have only occupied ourselves with a faulty imitation of that divine dynamic --

Shameless Bragging

2006-12-23T00:55:00.000-08:00

“Many, O LORD my God, are the wonders
which You have done, and Your thoughts toward us;
There is none to compare with You.
If I would declare and speak of them,
they would be too numerous to count.”
~ Psalm 40:5

A friend I’ve recently met posed the teasing question not long ago, “You’re really into lists, huh?!” Still, this passage begs for a ‘recounting’ of God’s wonders:

...His ceaseless work
“‘My Father is always at His work’” (John 5:17);

…His deliverance from death
“‘…the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and… will live’” (John 5:25);

…His inexhaustible lovingkindness
“His compassions never fail” (Lamentations 3:22);

…His favor to those who wait upon Him
“…they have not heard… nor has the eye seen a God besides You, who acts in behalf of the one who waits for Him” (Isaiah 64:4);

…His good will for sinful man
“...God demonstrates His love toward us… while we were yet sinners…” (Romans 5:8);

…His eternal desire toward us
“‘How can I give you up…? My heart is turned over within Me, all My compassions are kindled’” (Hosea 11:8);

…His sacrificial obedience
“…He existed in the form of God… but emptied Himself… becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:6-8);

…His pure selflessness
“He did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all…” (Romans 8:32);

…His forgiveness
“For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself…” (Hebrews 12:3)

…His indescribable mercy
“He saved us, not on the basis of deeds which we have done in righteousness, but according to His mercy…” (Titus 3:4);

…His rescue
“‘“Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost!”’” (Luke 15:6);

…His fortifying provision
“‘…for the Holy Spirit will teach you in that very hour what you ought to say’” (Luke 12:12);

…His sustaining presence
“‘Be strong… for the LORD your God is with you’” (Joshua 1:9);

…His long-suffering toward us
“…regard the patience of our Lord as salvation” (2 Peter 3:15);

…His perfect justice
“…the Lord is the avenger in all…things” (1 Thessalonians 4:6);

…His trustworthiness
“‘My covenant I will not violate, nor will I alter the utterance of My lips. Once I have sworn by My holiness; I will not lie…’” (Psalm 89:34-35);

…His majesty
“O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is Your Name in all the earth, who have displayed Your splendor above the heavens!” (Psalm 8:1);

…His ability to transform all to good
“‘…you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good’” (Genesis 50:20);

…His unquestionable holiness
“Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne…” (Psalm 89:14);

…His perseverance over us
“He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6);

…His refusal to relinquish us
“‘…no one will snatch them out of the Father’s hand’” (John 10:28);

…His omnipotence
“Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly than all we ask or think… to Him be the glory…” (Ephesians 3:20-21);

…His unconditional love for us
“‘But love your enemies, and do good… expecting nothing in return…’” (Luke 6:35);

…His authorship of life
“The LORD God formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being” (Genesis 2:7);

…His power to mend
“…giving them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a spirit of fainting” (Isaiah 61:3);

…His unmerited attention
“What is man that You take thought of him, and the son of man that you care for him?” (Psalm 8:4);

…His reveling over us
“He will exult over you with joy, He will quiet you in His love, He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy” (Zephaniah 3:17);

…His undertaking on our behalf
“The LORD will accomplish what concerns me” (Psalm 138:8);

…His safe haven
“For You have been my stronghold and a refuge in the day of my distress” (Psalm 59:16);

…His desire for His creation
“You will call, and I will answer You; You will long for the work of Your hands” (Job 14:15);

…His utter purity
“God is Light, and in Him there is no darkness at all” (1 John 1:5);

…His flawlessness
“As for God, His way is blameless” (Psalm 18:30; 2 Samuel 22:31);

…His exact fulfillment
“For He spoke, and it was done; He commanded, and it stood fast” (Psalm 33:9);

…His cleansing
“Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow” (Psalm 51:7);

…His sufficiency
“To Him who loves us and released us from our sins by His Blood…” (Revelation 1:5);

…His omniscience
“For the eyes of the LORD move to and fro throughout the earth that He may strongly support those whose heart is completely His…” (2 Chronicles 16:9);

…His longing to bless
“Therefore the LORD longs to be gracious to you, and therefore He waits on high to have compassion on you” (Isaiah 30:18);

…His intimacy with His creatures
“For He knows the secrets of the heart” (Psalm 44:21);

…His constant leading
“…the LORD will continually guide you…” (Isaiah 58:11);

…His protection
“He will cover you with His pinions, and under His wings you may seek refuge; His faithfulness is a shield and bulwark” (Psalm 91:4);

…His faithfulness to complete all He has spoken
“‘…not one word of all the good words which the LORD your God spoke concerning you has failed; all have been fulfilled for you, not one has failed’” (Joshua 23:14);

…His dynamic interactions with us
“The LORD said to him, ‘I have heard your prayer and your supplication which you have made before Me…’” (1 Kings 9:3);

…His heartache over His wayward children
“‘How often I wanted to gather your children together, the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were unwilling…’” (Matthew 23:37);

…His divine substitution
“…it does not depend on the man who wills… but on God who has mercy” (Romans 9:16);

…His tenderness toward us
“Or do you think lightly of the riches of His kindness and tolerance and patience, not knowing that the kindness of God leads you to repentance?” (Romans 2:4);

…His power to overcome sin
“As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us” (Psalm 103:12);

…His safe passage
“He led them safely, so that they did not fear” (Psalm 78:53);

…His assurance amidst discouragement
“You confirmed Your inheritance when it was parched” (Psalm 68:9);

…His attentiveness to our neediness
“‘...for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things’” (Matthew 6:32);

…His taking us to Himself
“…He will receive me” (Psalm 49:15);

…His cure for our disease
“Heal me, O LORD, and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved” (Jeremiah 17:14);

…His relief for our hopelessness
“For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through Him” (John 3:17);

…His renewal
“Therefore repent and return, so that your sin may be wiped away, in order that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord” (Acts 3:19);

…His disbanding the hold of darkness
“‘…there shall not be from there death or unfruitfulness any longer’” (2 Kings 2:21);

…His liberation
“It was for freedom that Christ set us free…” (Galatians 5:1)

…His rendering us unafraid
“…perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18);

…His ordaining beyond what we hope
“…because God had provided something better for us…” (Hebrews 11:40);

…His fulfilling our longings
“You… satisfy the desire of every living thing” (Psalm 145:16);

…His infinite concern over us
“How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I should count them, they would outnumber the sand” (Psalm 139:17-18);

…His pleasure to be claimed by us
“‘…let him who boasts boast of this, that he understands and knows Me…’” (Jeremiah 9:24)…

that we may cry out in the divine privilege,
‘He is our praise and He is our God, who has done these great and awesome things...’ (Deuteronomy 10:21)!

Possession Rights

2006-11-24T12:25:00.000-08:00

Why are we creatures so in need of assurance that we can take from our Master’s hand what He is offering?

Part of the answer may lie in Proverbs 30:8, where the prayer recognizes the integral elements to partaking of what God would give:
“Keep deceptions and lies far from me…
Feed me with the food that is my portion…”
It would seem that the lies which are nearest are often what hinder our receiving the most dramatically, until the ‘food’ He has furnished is what we most question as our right to take.

As 1 Timothy 4 explains, deceptions undermine a healthy receiving of His gifts: “…paying attention to deceitful spirits… men… advocate abstaining from foods which God has created to be gratefully shared in by those who believe in and know the truth” (v. 1-3). Becoming entangled in the lie that we “cannot” receive the portion He has imparted, we deny ourselves what is by “right” ours to eat and drink (1 Corinthians 9:4). We recoil in distrust of the One who ‘gives food to all flesh’ (Psalm 136:25) because, in a deceived state, we believe that our own worthiness is the determining factor in whether we are ‘fed.’ And, in time, we reach the point of relinquishing our legitimate claims; of surrendering the gifts and vocation He has carefully selected for us.

For Moses, the concession of his rightful position came when he looked at his own skills (see Exodus 4:1, 10). Somewhere along the way, his own abilities spoke more loudly than his calling. His concession, “Please, Lord, now send the message by whomever You will” (Ex. 4:13), exhibited his greater mindfulness of himself than of his Maker’s power through him.

Is it not when we are “downward looking,” when our eyes are focused on ourselves, that we most easily believe those deceptions that our hands were not fashioned to receive; that we are not capable of accepting, whether blessing or responsibility, what God would place upon us?

And yet, He is unceasing in leading us to take hold of what is ours, for ‘the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable’ (Romans 11:29). He comes to us, beckoning us to heed the truth, that we might - stepping out against the lies - seize that which He’d already made our own.

For the gifts we are given, tailored personally to us, are nothing short of divinely crafted, based not upon our needs even, but upon His desire to give. Indeed, anything we receive is from the God in whom ‘every good and perfect gift’ originates (James 1:17); whose intentions toward us are for our wholeness and wellbeing (Jeremiah 29:11); who works even evil to our good (Genesis 50:20). He pleads with us, presses in on us, until we come into agreement with the truth of 1 Timothy 4:4 – “For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with gratitude…”

It is when we align ourselves with holy will that we are separated from the lie that we are ‘unable’ to receive the food which is our ‘portion;’ and it is also then that we discover how, because He so passionately wants us able to receive, what we had hesitated to take remains ours to accept ~

For, however much we would hasten to see our own unworthiness, however much we would question why He would bestow upon us any good, forfeiture was never necessary. Indeed, what He has allotted us is ours to take. He would speak to us, as He did to Jeremiah (32:7-8), over our rightful ownership claims, until the lies are shattered by His reassurance: “‘…for you have the right of possession and the redemption is yours…’”

Unreachable

2006-11-10T17:41:00.000-08:00

Have many times known the handiwork of my having severed myself from God by letting fear or distrust creep in. Have all too often experienced a sadness which could have been averted had I only been staying closely beside Him --

“Deep is the soul, is the space I control
Is the one thing I can call as mine
Deeper the cold when He's far from my soul…”
~ “Under the Floor”/Switchfoot

Yet what makes me marvel, in those moments of chill, is not the vacuum which seems to yawn between my soul and His presence, but the way there is still within a pressing hunger. When nothing in me could bridge that span, there swells, in a desperate waiting, the hopeful anticipation that I will be “reached” by Him:

“You will call, and I will answer You;
You will long for the work of Your hands” (Job 14:15).

The gracious moment is in the wait, when we discover that He is unreachable to us, and we must bow down in utter helplessness. The purest gift is in His letting us see ourselves as we truly are: vulnerable, and entirely dependent, because it is only then that we understand what it is to be the ‘work of His hands…’

…that we are fashioned by His will (Revelation 4:11),
…that we belong to Him (Ephesians 2:10), and
…that we are never to be forsaken (Psalm 138:8).

It is in that introspective moment, when we see ourselves without our blinding pretenses, that we recognize ourselves to be weak, in need; ‘wholly incomplete’ apart from Him. Only then can we appreciate that the void we know is a fuller definition of who we are without Him.

And yet, the even greater grace is that He hasn't left us ambivalently wandering in the darkness we’d chosen, but instead, has poured into us a reciprocal longing. Rather than letting the desire for our restoration reside exclusively in His Being, He has let us also partake of that will, lending our clinging souls the avenue by which we permit Him to inhabit us again: an insatiable hunger to be called by Him, and to see His presence returned to us.

Holy God, who will not relinquish ‘the work of His hands,’ has granted us a restlessness which drives us to Him, a longing from which our souls cannot escape. When we are incapable of bringing Him back to us, still He has left within us the deeply-rooted utterance which, renewed in His coming, cries out most passionately to Him, “We have waited for You eagerly; Your Name, even Your memory, is the desire of our souls” (Isaiah 26:8)!

Tools to Prove

2006-11-08T18:28:00.000-08:00

Nothing in the world seeks anything but to satisfy “self.” Am struck by how odd the phrase then sounds to hear it said that Christ purified us ‘for Himself’ (Titus 2:4). For one, there’s something implicitly strange to think that supreme Divinity could be beneficiary of our salvation; for another, it goes against the grain to think that His motive was for anything but us.

For whom was salvation then?

Clearly, we become recipients of His immortality (‘…he who believes has eternal life’ ~ John 6:47); we are reconnected to the Source of Life. We are also shown the grace of being returned to His presence (we have the ‘hope’ which enters ‘within the veil’ ~ Hebrews 6:19); we are able to come before God, Perfect Righteousness, because covered with His merciful Blood. And we are granted His righteous favor (Christ ‘became to us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification, and redemption’ ~ 1 Corinthians 1:30).

So why does the passage from Titus denote that something of our salvation is “for Him?” Why does Isaiah 59:16 say that, “His own arm brought salvation to Him…” (NASB), or “His own arm worked salvation for Him” (NIV)? Why has the psalmist worded it that, “His right hand and His holy arm have gained the victory [accomplished salvation] for Him” (Ps. 98:1)? What is there of any value to Him in His having brought us rescue, deliverance?

The only good which seems to square with His love [1 Corinthians 13] is that, somehow in His redeeming us, in working us out of sin’s death-like grip and into a saving knowledge of who He is, He is meeting our needs. It’s as though His greatest intent toward us is to see that we’re re-fitted to communion with Him – not to restore victory to His design of these finite creatures, but to address our deepest hungers, and the core of our brokenness. When man seeks to acquire for himself, it is God's desire to offer Himself entirely which, so contrary to our understanding, strikes discordant.

And yet, what Jesus’ heart, bared and bleeding on that cross, shows most lavishly, is that what He counts His benefit, “the joy set before Him” (Hebrews 12:2), is not that He receives communion, or even reciprocation, but that He can give His utmost for His Beloved.

Somehow the greatest joy to Him was never in retaining any temporal good (which all too often defines our driving goals), but specifically to use those “possessions” as tools to convey His true motivations toward us. Somehow His purpose, His foremost intent, was always to take that which was in His hands – His power, His glory, His very Life – and deliberately lay all down, for us.

As proof. Proof of how genuine His love; proof that He would seek not His own (1 Corinthians 13:5), but give preference to us (Philippians 2:3-4). Evidence through which He could demonstrate His desire toward us. For He laid aside self-will and took up deprivation; He set down glory and took on degradation; He cast aside honor and accepted the mantle of scorn. How our Savior sought to empty His hands of all He possessed, if only we would be returned to them.

It would seem that more pleasing was it to Him to forfeit heaven’s riches than the clay and breath He’d given being; more desirable to Him to relinquish His rights than to leave our frail spirits ‘in the dust.’

And somewhere in His forfeiture of all He should have held dear, He speaks in resounding tones which cause us to understand that, in His accepting their void, in being stripped of all He could have claimed by right, still He desired us more ~

1 John 4:18

2006-10-14T10:44:00.000-07:00

Weary; wavered,
Drawn outside
All the havens
Where I hide

Weighted,
Toppled,
Now released;
Darkened hiding
Fin’lly ceased

Fighting;
Weakened;
Breathless now -
All rebellion
Gone somehow

Poured out,
Laden
With no guilt,
Shielded not
By what I’d built

Now relinquished,
Now made full;
Pulled in rescue,
‘Til rent whole

Certain,
Restful,
White as snow
To be naked,
Calm; “let go”

Covered,
Holy,
Rendered ‘still’ –
All the good of
Forfeit will

Tempered,
Eased now,
From all loss:
Metal now exchanged
For dross

Merging into
Pure attire,
Meshed with clean,
Unyielding fire

Loosened from
The bond of death;
Pushing forth
Life-giv’n breath

Freedom,
Once rejected gain,
Now release
From ghastly stain –

All this hiding,
All the fear,
Brought to death
Within this sphere

Where You're known
In wide array,
And love forbids
That fear may stay

One Gateway Sin

2006-10-08T14:36:00.000-07:00

Lies are rarely blatant, and they never end with us any nearer to God. More often than not, it seems that the lies which hit me the hardest are those which come in some vulnerable moment, when all I’m sensing is the emotion of some fear or dreaded insecurity which grips me powerfully enough to wrench my eyes from the truth.

It amazes me how quickly a lie infects: I started out yesterday morning with one nagging doubt (a fearful thought that God knew my inabilities, and set me up to fail), and by the end of the day, I had seen resurrected nearly every old battle I’ve ever fought, with lies pounding in from all directions!

One beachhead was all it took: a single foothold, and the enemy had enough leverage to start bombarding me with massive ammunition. I succumbed, not because that first lie was so overwhelming, but because I had opened a gateway by listening to a deception over the truth.

The heart of the matter isn’t that my mind doesn’t know the truth, but that I have a choice where I turn my eyes when waves of temporary emotion would skew my gaze. Do I give heed to the bombardment of doubt, or do I consciously choose to believe God will sustain and care for me, regardless of what panic says? Certainly a finite human being is dwarfed by the power of a deception, but the crucial factor is where I am fixing my eyes. Do I understand that the God who is greater than the lie is the One who holds me? ‘Thou dost keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusts in Thee’ (Isaiah 26:3).

Satan is well aware of our being liable to start looking “downward” at ourselves, and losing sight of God’s ability to work through us. In fact, one of his greatest schemes is to speak in his ‘native tongue’ in a way which pulls us from a clear-sighted vision of God, to one which causes us to question Him, then resort to ourselves. It is as if the greatest battle in getting us to sin is not in tempting us to do what we know is wrong, but only in prompting us to believe that God is not worthy of our trust, and that our own hands are more capable of carrying out our best.

What the Enemy ultimately wants is for there to be a wedge driven between our Savior and ourselves; for us to ‘reproach’ God, ‘exalt ourselves against Him,’ and lose that ‘sweet fellowship’ of being His ‘companion and familiar friend’ (Psalm 55:12-14). And when we retract ourselves from Him, and delve more profoundly into the darkness of lies, we are only securing more fully the rift between ourselves and the Truth incarnate.

Yet we’ve been called to ‘walk in the truth’ (3 John 1:4), so that “no advantage would be taken of us by Satan, for we are not ignorant of his schemes” (2 Corinthians 2:11). God has given us tools to fight: we are to ‘take each thought captive’ (2 Corinthians 10:5), ‘not believing every spirit, but testing the spirits to see whether they are from God’ (1 John 4:1). We’re to hold up each thought to the Light for His examination. And in that offering we find, not that He is against us, or that He has led us astray, but that what we keep fumbling with is the breech we’ve created by recoiling at Him.

The unrest we experience comes because - in our presumption that ‘the way of the Lord is not right’ (Ezekiel 18:25) - we are still not reconciled to the Truth, still refusing to entrust ourselves to the only One in whom we can rest. It is only when that lie is cast aside that we are brought into close communion with Him again; that, in the potency of the Truth, the lies are banished and no distance between us can endure ~

Just Missed

2006-09-15T23:04:00.000-07:00

Walked into last week’s service late, to enter upon the wistful strains of the final hymn, and a congregation reverently brought into the throne room, with strong expectancy, and a sweetly surrendered spirit… The thought which haunted me as I left the service clung: ‘I missed You…’ I had so closely brushed past the intimacy that could have been…

There’s still sadness, and an added urgency now to not let such regret take root again. Yet there’s also a broader question to contemplate: how many times do I short-circuit myself in drawing near? How many ways do I prove the biggest hindrance to being in that raw, face-to-face communion with my Maker? How often must I, harried by temporal concerns, short-change what could be so rich a moment of fellowship?

Proverbs 15:8 has struck an interesting note:

“The Lord detests the sacrifice of the wicked,
but the prayer of the upright pleases Him.”

His pleasure is not in the outward, but in our ‘prayer;’ in our interior longing to know Him, and ‘learn’ Him richly; in our desire to pursue Him recklessly as we long to experience Him more ~

Think the deepest pang of sadness comes in the aftermath of those moments when – having had opportunity to be with Him, and absorb Him in greater depth – we opted for anything short of Him, and found that the loss is ours alone. Can’t yet discern any regret, any ‘backward longing,’ quite as lamentable as the realization that there existed the ideal opportunity to enter into that divine fellowship, and – for some inexplicable reason – we allowed that moment to pass by, irrevocably…

Yet, for as much as the twinge of any particular occasion may haunt us, God has granted - even from the negative - that we might acknowledge the reality which spans eternity: that ‘the nearness of God is our good’ (Psalm 73:28). Somehow, though we may discover the truth from the backside of sorrow, we are always returned to the assent which is engrained upon our souls, the recognition which pours forth also in David’s desperate and determined cry: ‘I have no good besides You’ (Psalm 16:2) ~

Quantifiable?

2006-09-03T08:45:00.000-07:00

Statistics are so easy. So comfortably clean; objective and uninvolved.

Where we err is in carrying our simplistic definitions into a realm which transcends such boundaries. We’d prefer to catalog God’s favor in such a way: the greater the abundance of tangibles, the greater His degree of blessing; the more that's withheld, the more He would see us disgraced and wanting.

Except God isn’t that easy.

Human nature finds it appealing to look strictly at what lies in a person’s hands: health, a wedding ring, an abundance of children, a stable family, a prosperous job, a godly reputation, or an “effective” ministry even. We shade the lines with the rationale that all of those gifts are signs of God’s having directed our life, and our having been obedient enough to find the passageway to receiving from His hand.

Somehow we’d prefer to skim the surface, glancing at the definable elements stitched into the fabric of one’s life, rather than tackle the far stickier issue that sometimes God’s favor comes not in the visible realm, but more profoundly in the intangible one. And more, that sometimes it is His withholding that yields an even greater good…

For we have to come to that point of acknowledging that whatever He has chosen is for our best, and gladly acknowledge of the Master Artist that, ‘It is the Infinite wielding His brush; I know He does all things well’ (“Come Away, My Beloved,” Frances J. Roberts, p. 246).

When we cease trying to quantify what we or others have, we find that what we boil down to is not some receptacle which is filled with “things” from a heavenly hand, but an individual before our Creator, Savior, and Stay… a soul in whom the Infinite takes meticulous and tender interest, and would only bestow upon us – in the giving or withholding (Job 1:21) – exactly what His mercy has deemed suitable to the shaping of our souls.

The temptation remains. The tangible gifts hold their sway, and cause us to question whether His love for us must be demonstrated through visible means. And yet it is only the voice of the Enemy which causes us to question.

For if we truly saw what love looks like – if we could grasp that it is neither possession or position which tells of His love; that it is not pleasantry or privilege, but the prerogative of Him to become helpless and mangled on our behalf – we’d then understand that what is in our hands has nothing to do with whether we’re loved by the One into whose hands our nails were driven ~

Ending on Judgment

2006-09-02T23:56:00.000-07:00

A Bible study discussion last week got me thinking again about the not-so-happy endings found in the Bible. Sparked by a discussion on how blaspheming the Holy Spirit will ‘not be forgiven’ (Luke 12:10), the examples of those who never saw redemption (i.e. Judas, Sodom and Gomorrah, Pharaoh, Jezebel) made surface a hopelessness which struck an uncomfortable chord. A hollow and unsettling sense of being unable to amend the loss; of having to grapple with the ultimate ‘irreversibility.’

To our modern Christian sensitivities, no one is “un-redeemable.” It seems nearly offensive to say that anybody is ‘past saving,’ as though God were somehow powerless to bridge each individual back to Himself. And yet God Himself is the One who’s chosen who will see salvation (see Ephesians 1:4).

What’s in question then isn’t His power to save. Instead it seems that His compassion becomes the target of scrutiny, bombarded with questions over how He could allow even one soul to perish; how mercy could run dry, and judgment could secure the final word over 'rescue.'

We were designed for unbroken communion with Him, and even the failure of one life to display that seems a hindrance to the fulfillment of His intent over us. It isn’t that His purpose is swayed, or that His credibility with the Foe somehow suffers loss, but that His not preventing such despair seems contradictory; in a way, a concession to darkness…

…unless our lives aren’t mere expressions of supernatural battle lines; aren’t simply tally marks on an ethereal scoreboard, where casualties and salvages are accounted for, and wars are won by numbers. Perhaps what I miss is that our lives are not as pawns to the forces of good and evil, but that our souls come before our Master with individual clarity… and that, for all that we’ve refused of Him, we’re held accountable (see 2 Chronicles 6: 23).

Until we come up against the One who initiated our rescue, the One who has always wanted us abiding in the life of salvation rather than dwelling in the death of condemnation (John 3:16-17), we choose to reside under the sentence from which He came to deliver us, and set ourselves against Life Himself.

I cannot grasp why He allows despair to stand where He has willed health and wholeness; can’t reason my way through His purposes, as though I could ‘know the mind of God, or be His counselor’ (Romans 11:34). Yet what resounds heavily is the sobering reality that He, Sovereign Judge, knows the heart, and has the final word. When mercy ends and judgment begins, what pointedly comes to light is not some divine refusal to grant life, but the human will which has all along resisted accepting it.

Yet praise be to Him who, even constrained by our free will, 'poured out Himself' (Isaiah 53:12) on our behalf; the only One who fought to the death for us to experience life...

Stone to Flesh

2006-08-24T21:23:00.000-07:00

A teacher friend pulled a rock out of her purse the other day, and – with the exuberance characteristic of an educator – delighted to explain the composition of jade and serpentine. For both its heart shape and luminescent color, she was proud to boast it her favorite stone.

Yet all I was taken with was the difference in what I saw before me: the smooth, unyielding material to which she clung, and the soft palm in which it was cradled. And it struck me how incredulous it is that our Maker transforms ‘stone to flesh’ (Ezekiel 11:19; 36:26). The same God who can “heal” the dead (Luke 7:12-15), and create something tangible from a void (Genesis 1:2), is the One who replaces a sterile, cold substance with what is yielding and warm – by a power which refuses to be explained.

The probability doesn’t bother me; I know I serve a God for whom there is nothing impossible [Genesis 18:14; Jeremiah 32:17; Jeremiah 32:27; Matthew 19:26; Mark 10:27; Luke 1:37]. What astounds me is the more trivial wonderment over the disparity… for the two materials are nothing alike. And when God is pleased to replace the former entirely, it becomes apparent that only the latter is acceptable to Him; that there is nothing about the rock that He sees fit to preserve.

While there is the sheer fact that ‘flesh’ is nothing we could generate, and that life pulses only from Him, there is also the implication that the ‘hardness’ we exhibit constitutes nothing He’d desire. It isn’t as though we could pass off our foul heart as anything pure before God, or justify our sinful efforts as able to near His righteousness, any more than we could suppose that jade actually resembled human flesh. There is no reconciling the two.

And yet, I know (both personally and second-hand) all of those painfully futile efforts; the doomed striving to at least “try” to offer God something pleasing, as though we weren’t saved according to His mercy alone (Titus 3:5). What vile thinking it is to purport that God simply wants within us something approaching “good,” when in fact there is nothing that can; what lunacy to decry the only Blood which heals us, and denote our ‘filthy rags’ (Isaiah 64:6) as some pre-emptive measure to at least be heading on the ‘right path.’

Perhaps what our Lord wants us to discover is not simply that His all-pervasive power supplants our destitution by satisfying our need, but more, that only what is given by Him brings life. He would draw us to willingly avow that “a man is not justified by works of the Law but through faith in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 2:16); and then to be mindful never to muddle the two, as though ‘stone’ could ever substitute for the ‘flesh’ which He lovingly places within the hollow cavity of our chest.

Most Ravaged

2006-08-07T12:33:00.000-07:00

Hannah has always been my favorite. The woman who prayed so fervently she appeared drunk. The one who was willing to give up all that she’d asked for – to be met by the God who always gives more than we petition (see 1 Samuel 2:1-10; 21).

Yet perhaps what I love most about her is that she typifies how God desires to bring us the greatest level of honor and comfort where there had once been the most profound level of shame and distress; how He longs to bless us with the pronouncement: “Instead of your shame you will have a double portion, and instead of humiliation they will shout for joy over their portion” (Isaiah 61:7).

Haggai brought her story to mind the other day with the verses of strife and instability, and then the concluding promise, ‘and in this place I will give peace’ (2:9). Why is God always so emphatic that healing and rest come precisely where the heartache has been greatest? Why is it so crucial to Him for us to understand that - like with that yearning, barren woman, like with His people Israel - He’s specifically ordained the height of restoration and joy to come on that plane which was most ravaged and hopeless?

It intrigues me that He doesn’t simply “start over;” that He refuses to abandon an area of our lives to the despair which seeks to infuse it, but would instead undertake, with great effort, to renew the ‘old’ with an unexpected ‘new.’ This God - who was so intentional about marking the valley of Achor, once a place of judgment and death (Joshua 7:24-26), as a ‘door of hope’ (Hosea 2:15) and a ‘resting place’ (Isaiah 65:10) - is the same who desires to reconcile in our lives those lifeless and decimated realms with His original purpose of health and wholeness.

And so He zeroes in on the exact location where the sorrow is rooted, then works healing out to the periphery. It's as though He most delights to spend the time meticulously working on that which all others have discounted and deemed “lost,” then quietly present us with the reality that He is the only One who has tenderly devoted Himself to mend what was completely shattered.

Perhaps His favorite areas of operation are those most devastated, not because of how their hopelessness directs our cries to Him, nor even because of the way He can exhibit His power before others, but because He cares too passionately about us to ignore the core of our grief. Instead, He re-works life within that same paradigm, that we would know Him, not as the God who lamely removes us from a path which couldn’t be redeemed, but as the One who personally meets us in that very location where He can prove Himself to be the God who ‘makes all things new’ (Rev. 21:5).

Elevated Rank

2006-07-25T11:01:00.000-07:00

Psalm 106:15 is always a little disturbing:

“So He gave them their request,
but sent a wasting disease among them.”

A little scary to think that we could make a request before God, and that He has the full authority and prerogative to answer in a way that strikes us as outright harmful. The reason? A couple of verses before, His children had ‘forgotten His works,’ had 'not waited for His counsel,' and ‘tempted God’ (v. 13-14)… Does that contradict my understanding of how God answers prayers? Perhaps I live in the bubble that says, even if I pray wrongly, omniscient God will correct to my good the requests made in ignorance…

Except that’s exactly what He did! A ‘wasting disease’ hardly seems a gracious correction, some providential display of mercy, but how often, when we pray squarely against the will of God, are we quick to recognize that the answer He gives remains consistent with His good intentions toward us? If He hadn’t sent a wasting disease, if He hadn’t checked the Israelites' ‘intense craving in the wilderness’ (v. 14), would they have ever had opportunity to turn back to Him? How humbling when we realize that what God has given us, even in strong rebuke, is exactly what He knew we needed in order to be set back into right relationship with Him.

James 4 points to the Israelites’ condition (and ours) as this: “You lust and do not have… You ask and do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives… You adulteresses, do you not know that friendship with the world is hostility toward God?” (v. 2-4). Was it not ‘hostility toward God’ which prompted those off-kilter prayers? Was it not the error of elevating our own desires above all else which led us into the death-like disease which is inevitable when we look outside of the Source of Life?

We fail to submit, or (as the military term in James 4:7 literally means), to “fall under the rank of” God. So long as we maintain that fulfilling our own desires is more pressing than obeying His; that receiving answers as we see fit is more critical than where we stand with Him, we’re placing ourselves in the precarious place of being answered with what we need: of being given the correction that says we have not aligned our motives with His, and are still hostile toward our Savior and Maker.

But praise be to Him, that – if even it meant He sent a “wasting disease” – He would not fail to align us with Him until we fall under His rank, and are again restored to the only One who truly knows how to ‘satisfy the desire of every living thing’ (Psalm 145:16) – not because His creatures are always wise to ask, but because His intentions toward us are always that we may have “life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10).

Long-Distance Praying

2006-07-11T14:10:00.000-07:00

Just finished a book which hit on how much of our praying tends to boil down to nothing more than intellectual pursuit: “The crisis of our prayer life is that our mind may be filled with ideas about God while our heart remains far from him” (The Way of the Heart; Henri Nouwen). Isaiah touches on the same: “’This people draw near to Me with their words and honor Me with their lip service, but they remove their hearts far from Me…’” (29:13).

How often do we tend to keep God at arm’s length, running through a mental list of concerns and praises, and never entering into authentic communion with the Living God? Where do we cross that line of talking to Him in a monologue fashion to actually “being” within His presence? Why are we so much more comfortable with “long-distance” praying, when God longs to hear us ‘pour out our hearts before Him’ (Psalm 62:8)?

Would we prefer to keep the spiritual realm wholly intellectual, and so fend off any personal infiltration of conviction, and yes, solace and rest? Would we dare to empty the intangible of all its mystery, that we might cling to the security of tradition and, in that, hope to acquire some control?

Or perhaps what we most fear is not even the fact that we cannot grasp this God of the universe, and His infinite character which spreads itself across us in astounding mercy, but that – were we to step away from our analysis – we would have to confront our selves. Perhaps we do not often enough pray from the gut because of how dangerous a territory that is… for in it, we are forced to contend with our wretchedness in light of God’s holiness. We, like Peter, become so consumed by our filthiness before this righteous God that we cry out, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!” (Luke 5:8).

And yet the gift God has imparted to us in prayer is a manifestation of the truth that He came to this world, not to condemn but to save it. We are led into that intimate communion with our Heavenly Father, not because He would leave us in the despair of our complete destitution, but because, through our recognition of the same, we can then receive with gratitude the reality that God would draw us to Himself, as “sinners embraced by the mercy of God.”

It is not for us to cower at the sin which becomes so apparent within us, but instead, for us to entrust ourselves to the One who has fashioned a way of redemption; to Him who has hewn the way for us to "draw near," not out of fearful piety or intellectual religiosity, but “with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith” (Hebrews 10:22) which trusts that – in spite of ourselves – ‘He will receive us’ (Psalm 49:15).

A Matter of Identity

2006-06-24T11:40:00.000-07:00

Find it horribly curious that our Lord, who 'did not need anyone to testify concerning man, for He Himself knew what was in man' (John 2:25), could still desire to bless us... and yet we, in need of His mercy, often come suspiciously or presumptuously into His presence. What sad irony!

Why our God should seek our best when we still question what comes from His hand, why He should work out a divine good for us when we still maintain pockets of distrust, is a testimony of His character. And yet, I wonder why we, who have seen His dealing with us, still withhold our hearts from Him.

It seems that we fall for Satan's persuasive argument that, were we to truly relinquish ourselves to our Creator, we would forfeit our whole identity; we would be taken advantage of; callously overrun. It's inevitable really that one who has spent such time in His holy presence would spend the rest of his [fallen] existence trying vigorously to convince God's creatures that their Maker is void of the very love and passion for them which Satan must have witnessed with shock and awe.

But why do we question? Why do we give that voice of deceit any foothold? If God has seen what is in us (for our hearts 'lie open before Him' Proverbs 15:11), and yet still deals with us kindly and graciously (Romans 2:4, etc.), why do we harbor any reservations?

Do we understand that the God we're serving is - unlike everything His ancient Foe would have us believe - drawn out to us in lovingkindness? Do we see this God, this Redeemer, as the One whose intentions toward us are unquestioningly good, His passion for us unquenchably fierce?

We must come to grapple with the fact that our Lord, who knows our hearts to be 'deceitful above all things and beyond cure' (Jeremiah 17:9), has undertaken to make us holy, though at great cost to Himself. And somewhere in that understanding, in which we see how much He has absorbed on our behalf simply to extend His love to us, we're drawn into the humbling recognition that this God, who knows us entirely, could still find us to be the object over which His heart is 'turned within Him, and all His compassions are kindled' (Hosea 11:8) ~

Indiscriminate Cost

2006-05-22T21:08:00.000-07:00

I bought a dress the other day, and was so enamored of the print and the fit that I didn't even check the price tag before signing the receipt. Not the most prudent choice, and in fact, quite contradictory to the warning found in Luke 14:28 --

"'For which one of you, when he wants to build a tower, does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if he has enough money to complete it?'"

Being a disciple means 'counting the cost;' looking with enough foresight to understand that diligent obedience will require sacrifice. Yet I think that is where many of us stop. We are all to conscious of the costliness of actually doing what we've been convicted to carry out, and we 'shrink back.'

Perhaps my attitude with the dress wasn't the wisest, but there's a delightfully carefree nature to that mind-set as well... because it sees the final outcome, and doesn't hesitate. Were we to live that way spiritually, how much less would we sit confounded, pondering our options, and instead simply embark on what God has called us to do.

I've recently been inspired by a dear friend who has stood firm in what she's known the Lord's leading to be, and has obeyed - at potentially great cost. The price paid is not relevant; her purpose is to be faithful to the One who's called her. Without being deterred by the price tag.

For obedience cries out that, no matter what we may pay, "our ambition [is] to be pleasing to Him" (2 Corinthians 5:9). And somewhere in that freedom, when we're removed from counting the potential risks and enabled to touch on the joy of being aligned with Him, we find that even what we pay is multiplied back to us through His sustaining us in the path which pleases Him.

Obedience transcends the losses endured, because it knows a higher accountability than to comfort or convenience. We do not move under the constraints of the ramifications, but under the command of the One who never counted faithfulness to us too high a sacrifice to make; the One whose very Life is evidence: the determining factor is never the cost.

Already Crumbled

2006-05-13T12:26:00.000-07:00

A friend sent an e-mail today which asked why I wasn't fighting for myself; in short, why I wouldn't take matters into my own hands. My delighted response was reminiscent of the victory shout at Jericho [Joshua 6:20]: "we're gonna shout loud / loud until the walls come down... we're gonna shout loud / loud until the final shout... because we've already won... yeah, it's already done... we have already won!" (David Crowder).

The fact is, I've spent much of life fighting to secure for myself whatever I thought my greatest need. And the results were, while varied, all relatively similar in their degree of devastation, landing me in everything from isolation, to confusion, to a hospital bed. Never worthwhile. And always too short-sighted to grasp that the work is already done; the victory already secured!

I wonder how much time is spent pursuing those things which are already completed. How often has the Enemy successfully convinced us that the responsibility falls to our shoulders, and we end up chasing those things which God long ago finished on our behalf? How often have I been prone to take matters into my own hands, in the pointed (though never articulated) misconception that my Lord wouldn't actually invest Himself in undertaking for me that which I most need?

It's too easy a trap. Too simple to stare at that wall and convince myself that there MUST be something I'm required to do, all the while forgetting that the walls came down, not because of the shout in verse TWENTY, but because God had already 'given the city' into the Israelites' hands back in verse TWO.

The victory isn't ours because we fought hard for ourselves (in fact, our own efforts are what often bring us down), but instead, because He's declared to us what He has already finished! Praise be to the One who has secured for us the victory, and brings us the message that the walls are already crumbled!

"...thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumph in Christ..." (2 Corinthians 2:14)!

The Composition of Gratitude

2006-04-27T16:57:00.000-07:00

Habakkuk 3:17-18 is a passage which has clung closely over the years:

“Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the the LORD,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.”

...and usually in those moments when gratitude is the furthest thing from my questioning or listless thoughts.

What is it about circumstances which makes us so highly susceptible to being suspect of God, or at least, doubtful about why we should be praising Him? As one devotional phrases the friction, “Why should you allow any human experience to alter or affect your divine relationship with your Father?” (Come Away, My Beloved/Frances Roberts).

Circumstances are meant to shape, and sharpen us, but when we think that our “return,” what we offer God, is contingent upon what lies around us, then we prove ourselves to have misconstrued the true basis for giving thanks. For God does not come to us demanding that we “earn” His attention or affection, and neither should we relate to Him in such a way.

A lyric from a song I recently heard has stayed impressed upon me: “center of unbroken praise.” An old song (“Joyful, Joyful”), but one which struck me in a new manner, and which causes me to ponder how our lives are not only to be a continual surrender to Him, but also vessels through which we are constantly offering Him praise without having gifts in our hands to prompt us. Are we as willing to offer Him gratitude for who He is when we are “without” as when we count ourselves “blessed?” Are we steadfast in the way we come before God, always giving thanks to Him, not for His tangible gifts, but for His very Person? Are we willing to cry out with Habakkuk that our rejoicing comes in Him, independent of all else, no matter how much circumstances would bombard us? Can we even be grateful for the fact that it is through those very circumstances that we discover how deep our loyalty to Him lies?

Are You "Filtered?"

2006-04-20T16:09:00.000-07:00

We can easily take on faith that everything is ordained by God: “Through Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made” (John 1:3).

We can avow to the cry to God which says, “You are good, and what You do is good” (Psalm 119:68).

...and then comes pain.

But if the God who ordains all that we witness is truly sovereign, and truly good in all His dealings with us, should we not then accept that He remains the same, even as He moves us into situations in which we are hurt?

Perhaps we're reluctant to see that God desires for us to be 'patient when wronged' (2 Timothy 2:24); outright resistant to the fact that we're to 'accept joyfully' (Hebrews 10:34) the injustices committed against us. But I tend to think that the issue centers not so much on whether we know our calling, or are willing to release an offender from some “debt,” nearly so much as that we dislike relinquishing our claims to “self.” We tend to act like a container which must fastidiously hold the liquid within, as though we must harness all of our troubles in an effort to defend and preserve ourselves; as though we must not suffer to “spill.” Yet the reality is, we are not our own (1 Corinthians 6:19-20); the moment we submitted to His Lordship, we forfeit all those claims, which means we are not to hold anything – even pain – as our own.

God is particularly clear in His wanting to “filter” the pain through us; in seeing us become sieves, which let pour through us all the hurt and wrongs which He would have transferred to His hands. Indeed, He has declared repeatedly that any pain we experience He is already most eager to take unto Himself (1 Peter 5:7; Psalm 55:22; Matthew 11:29).

Yet somehow we only see that truth when, surrendered to Him, we finally stop striving to preserve “self” and begin perceiving that what lie before us, willing to receive the pain we are incapable of bearing, are the nail-pierced hands of the One who Himself was “emptied” (Philippians 2:6-7) --

So the question is: Are you “filtered?”

Behold the Lamb

2006-04-16T00:03:00.000-07:00

“...the Lamb that was slain from the creation of the world.”

~ Revelation 13:8

Somehow the fact that Christ was crucified from the start always courses through me like some new thought. In other words, God is not reactionary, and His death, this holy suffering, was what He'd originally deemed the ideal plan for His creation.

For one who is stuck in this temporary realm, where one event follows another, the Fall looks like it preceded God's redemption; appears like it was a “salvage” operation – but that is only evidence of the discrepancy between human wisdom and God's. It's mind-boggling to grasp that sometimes He only manifests His outer workings after some time-bound event has taken place, and perhaps it's for that reason that we finite creatures struggle to accept that He's the driving force fully sovereign over all we witness.

Perhaps the issue isn't so much in recognizing that God's removed from time, able to see all eternity when we can't even perceive the next moment ahead of us. Perhaps instead the battle is in seeing how God, having known all that was to come, didn't choose some other way.

But if He's omniscient, then He understands completely the ramification of every choice He presents us; if He's omnipotent, then no one can thwart His plans; and if He's all-loving, then every purpose ordained is for the best of His beloved – which means that we are never in a quandary; never locked into some situation for which God hasn't been prepared (since the 'foundation of the world,' no less).

And in that, there is great comfort, for such a reality means that the God we serve is not passively allowing our wills to play out to our detriment, nor is He practically mustering some good of what's been twisted, but is passionately and pro-actively administering a design which He knows to ultimately yield our best.

As Ephesians 1:3-4 says, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ, just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world...”