At the Feet of the Smile Giver

I know that I’m a shadow
But I’m dancing in your light

 ~ J. J. Heller ~

- scribbled a while back -

I had been gloomy lately, played the victim.  Quite without reason, especially in light of recent pain in my church family.  

After all, I was not the parent whose little girl died suddenly of a common flu.  I was not getting a knee replacement or surgery to remove cancer and going through painful recovery. It was not I who sent my baby girl into intense surgery, and now face the challenge of learning to do basic care for her in the large, bulky cast.

My sorrows are not so huge.  But even patience, self-control, trying to trust God while life rushes by in a whirl - even these are burdens.  Sometimes I feel alone, and think I will never grow.  

But since this Sunday morning, the light of God's compassion and might have shone on all these, and reminded me of a secret too well kept.

Laughter in the dark.

This morning Tyler talked about the Abundant Life that Christ came to give.  Not a list of rules wherein misery means holiness.  Not a promise of more stuff or an easy life.

If I believe in Him, I have everlasting life.  Not "I will have."  It is mine now.  Will I act sad and dead with that gift ready to burst forth like a mighty acorn seedling? 

Then in Sunday School, Laynce Nix talked about discipleship - which is being an apprentice of Jesus. Sitting at His feet all the time. Someone asked for practical application - she knows He is God but the ice needs breaking outside, the horses fed, the chores done.

And Laynce suggested that in the everyday moment, hectic or mundane or ordinary, be a disciple.

That thought was not new, but somehow struck me new.  I can choose obedience, remember He is present, and just be with Him. Rest joyfully in my smallness next to His greatness.

"And do not be called teachers; for One is your Teacher, the Christ. But he who is greatest among you shall be your servant." ~ Matthew 23:10, 11~

I want that, Lord!  Awareness of You every moment.  Not focusing on my nothingness - You have made me something, and I forget! - but rather focusing on Your Muchness.

This excites me like being called on a great adventure with someone better than a Jedi master, better than wise Gandalf. Oh great Christ, I am choosing to be Your apprentice, to learn from You whatever the circumstances. 

Today, for instance, at the youth group Super Bowl party, which I would really rather not go to.  But You, Master, ask me to love people and make more disciples, and maybe this is part of that.  Anyways, if You will be there too, my complaints float away with that knowledge.

Teach me to pray without ceasing!

Help me learn from You, gentle and lowly of heart, and find rest for my soul.

"Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” ~ Matthew 11:29,30

~

Cloudy, grey, and damp outside.  Cookies and spicy chai tea inside.  A finished, sealed letter to a friend waiting cheerfully plump on the shelf for Monday mail.  Cozy socks, pastel blue and over my knees.

Sitting at His feet that tread the dawn.

Barren

Our desires for fruitfulness are inborn. 

Certainly we can try to be fruitful in greedy, selfish ways, or by wrong means.  But the desire itself is not wrong.  We were designed that way, which is why God told us at the start to be fruitful and multiply.  He didn't say it as a burden - He meant us to be happy, satisfied in His abundance, to fulfill our role of kings and queens.

Yet after we let the Serpent twist our views of God and His goodness, we were sent from our perfect Garden.  Now, roaming the dark and thorny world, we are thwarted at every turn.

Barrenness.
Poverty.
Broken relationships.
Unsatisfying work.
Thoughts that wander into gloom and despair.

I went out yesterday with a friend to the middle-of-nowhere West Texas desert prairie, and walked around a bit amongst the thorn-laden mesquites and rocks and dirt. I thought of a choice I felt I had to make recently, which hurt someone dear to me and made me sad as well.  The consequences of that choice are more difficult to bear than I could have imagined.

Crackling grass scorched in the summer wind.

Earth parched and dusty.  Nothing could hope to grow here.

But then, in the death and stillness of the air, there rises the sweet smell of wildflowers, and their tenacious blossoms, prickly and small and lovely, shine at my feet.

I think, perhaps, our lives can be like this.  Sometimes everything seems not only unfruitful, but even dead.

Wait.  Out of the death of loss, something is about to grow. 

Though the fig tree may not blossom,
Nor fruit be on the vines;
Though the labor of the olive may fail,
And the fields yield no food;
Though the flock may be cut off from the fold,
And there be no herd in the stalls —
Yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
I will joy in the God of my salvation.

Habakkuk 3:17-18

All the food, all reason to keep working, all the hope for the future appears to be gone.   Nothing is fulfilling its designed purpose. 

Yet the writer is not simply accepting the death and barrenness as his lot to be born mournfully, with a face of woe and despair.  Instead, he's actually choosing from deep in his soul to smile, to be glad!  Because he remembers God is good, and He saves in more abundance and more mysterious ways than in making wildflowers spring up in the desert.

I want to choose joy.  I want to grow old with smile wrinkles outnumbering my complaining lines.  I want to rejoice in the Lord when my life feels like a barren desert.  Because that is the best growing soil for faith in God who makes all things new.

~

Aslan song

Good song I just listened to on Pandora Radio! Hope it encourages someone as it did me. :-)

Aslan

-Kendall Payne-

Don't stop your crying on my account
A frightening lion, no doubt
He's not safe, no he's not safe
Are you tempted now to run away?
The King above all Kings is coming down

But He won't say the words you wish that he would
Oh, he don't do the deeds you know that He could
He won't think the thoughts you think He should
But He is good, He is good

I know you're thirsty, the water is free
But I should warn you, it costs everything
Well, He's not fair, no He's not fair
When He fixes what's beyond repair
And graces everyone that don't deserve

No one knows Him whom eyes never seen
No, I don't know Him but He knows me
He knows me, He knows me

Lay down your layers, shed off your skin
But without His incision, you can't enter in
He cuts deep, yeah He cuts deep
When the risk is great and the talk is cheap
But never leaves a wounded one behind

A Surprising Sunday

Did y'all have a good Sunday? Mine was very different and quite wonderful because of three surprises.

"Yes, we'll come."

The first sounds more planned than surprising, but since plans aren't always fulfilled, I'd say it was a blessing that God granted for it to happen.

Yesterday, we made a glorious Cobb Salad (which my mother was inspired to make from Miss Jen's lovely post), involving such scrumptious ingredients as grilled chicken, bacon, pine nuts, chives, parsley, mint, tomatoes, avocados, and homemade dressing, all atop piles of glorious homegrown greens. So different and delicious!

Such an abundant and scrumptious feast, which we prepared yesterday afternoon, needed to be shared, so we invited a young married couple over for lunch after church. Thankfully they were able to come, and we had a great time fellowshiping and discussing the sermon, gardens, government, and summer plans.

Where did you come from?!?!?

The second surprise came when I entered the sanctuary a bit late for church. The singing had already begun. And there was Jonny, my 22-year-old brother, standing in our row, back home from college when we hadn't expected him to get into town until this evening! What a joy that he could join us in praising God! It was not hard to have a greatfull heart to the Lord during the worship songs after that surprise, let me tell you! :-)

Not Safe, but Good!

The third surprise was the sermon. Anyone who goes to our church knows that Mr. Beard, our preacher, is rather unconventional. In some ways the sermons are predictable. We do expositional teaching from the Bible, mostly verse-by-verse, and very rarely does Mr. Beard preach a topical sermon. Maybe twice a year. But his preaching style is such that he relies on the simplicity of God's Word (with a blunt and sometimes sarcastic sense of humor) to keep attention.

But today's sermon, which did come out of the text in Acts we've been studying, was more surprising than usual. After Communion and the last song, Mr. Beard came up to preach- dressed in a hockey helmet and pads, gloves, pool noodles duct-taped to his legs as pads, and a surgical mask. You can be sure his interesting protective gear grabbed everyone's attention! He took the stuff off after a while, but surprises continued.

It was all about safety and risk, and the ridiculous lengths we go to to try to avoid pain and danger, when we actually can't. O course swine flu came up. How could he not use such a silly example of hysteria?

Here are some of my notes:

The most deadly thing you can do is be alive - it will kill you.

Sometimes we act as though safety were equal to morality and goodness, but are they?

Government: "It's against the law to do dangerous things! Let us protect you by making more laws about what you can't do."

Swine flu hysteria and other paranoia are clearly silly, but as Christians we often live as though risk is sin.

But Peter and John kept preaching when it was against the law, when the risks were beatings, imprisonment, and death. Stephan's speech before the Sanhedrin was not safe - in fact it seems calculated to point out all the truths that would upset them the most, and his reward was being stoned to death.

Moses, in rescuing his fellow countryman, was heroic. But he got rejected for it.

We have somewhere wired into us the notion that risk is evil. That losing our house, our cars, our conveniences, our comforts, is bad and sinful. But we can't prove that from Scripture! In fact, examples in the Word abolish that notion.

Was Stephen in sin to be so bold and say such dangerous things? I don't think so.

Main point: We are to live, not try to stay alive. Chose life! Trust and obey! Walk with God every day, and don't fear.

Safety is from God.

Stressing out about safety is an exercise in futility, because we can't make ourselves completely safe!

Of course, don't be stupid or foolish. Don't do dangerous stuff for the wrong reasons. But don't be bound up about everything in your life because you think it's all about to go bad.

Then he gave one of the best examples I have seen in a long time. Their family has adopted a little boy, A. J. who had been in foster care for nearly all his almost-two years of life. The Beards were his fifth family.

When they first had him, he was tormented by insecurity. Anytime Mrs. Beard took him grocery shopping and turned away from the cart (where A.J. was strapped) to get a box of Cheerios, he became unglued and cried hysterically.

The same thing happened when they strapped him in his carseat and shut the door - in the two seconds he was alone in the car, the little guy panicked and thought he was being left all alone,
trapped.

He didn't know what it meant to have a secure loving family who would never abandon him. He didn't know their heart and intentions for him were always good, that what felt like abandonment and pain was actually for his benefit.

Now he does.

Last year the adoption finally came through, and our whole church rejoiced. The little guy is 4 now. And towards the end of today's sermon, Mr. Beard said, "Come 'ere, A.J."

I'd bet there wasn't a person in the sanctuary who was not smiling as his chubby little legs ran up the aisle, all by himself, and he climbed the steps to stand with proudly with his daddy on the stage. Mr. Beard picked him up, and asked, "Are you scared, A.J.?" A bold head-shake was the little guy's answer. Then, Mr. Beard put him, standing, on the front edge of the podium.

Now, the stage is probably a good 3-4 steps up, and each wooden step is fairly tall and broad. So he was up pretty high. I'm sure all the moms, and plenty of other people, were cringing at putting such a small little kid in such a dangerous spot! But A.J. kept grinning. Mr. Beard said a few more things as he descended the steps to right below A.J. then turned to his little boy, held out his arms, and said, "Are you ready?"

The little guy jumped right off the edge of that podium. And such a leap as A.J. took, so clearly trusting the strong arms of his father, but so clearly shocking to those of us who like "safety," was the most moving illustration I've seen in a long time of how we can and ought to trust God.

I too can jump joyfully if I really know God. Knowing His nature and character, I don't have to fear anything, neither poverty, nor pain, nor purpetual old-maidenhood. ;) I am safe in His arms. That's the sort of life I want to live. That's the sort of adventure He calls me to to have with Him.

~~~

Hope y'all have a glorious Monday, whatever you're doing!

Sacrifice

While reading the Boundless blog, a link in today's post made me weep.

It happened 2,000 years ago. The innocent Lamb of God died in my place. I plan to read the account in at least one of the Gospels today. I just read Isaiah 53 this morning. But some things must be seen to feel their weight and horror.

Passover Sacrifice

Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.

But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

~Isaiah 53:4,5

Frozen Fingers

This morning I drove out to some friends' house (who have been out of town) to feed their animals, and was greeted by freezing temperature and a cold wind. I hurried to feed the goat, sheep, chickens, chicks, and dog, having to break the ice in their water containers, and hauling water from the house because of the frozen pipes outside. I often long for a farm and critters of my own... but I seem to forget about this side of chores. I felt like whining like a little kid about my stiff and throbbing fingers, they hurt so badly from the cold! My fingers still ache, twelve hours later.

Over the past few years, I've noticed something strange. I love this season, this month of December, but I find myself wishing the day itself would not come. It's always disappointing. Christ is born, yes, for which I rejoice! But the pain remains. The waiting is what tears my heart, and draws me to a glorious hope, fulfilled in part, but still waiting. "Rejoice, rejoice, Immanuel has come to thee, O Israel!" If Christmas is a time of hope, we still wait for something not yet here, and we will keep waiting after the presents are opened and forgotten.

It seems fitting to celebrate our hope in the cold and dying year.

Lately I've felt keenly my failings, my sin, my stubborn refusal to grow and mature. Like the silly guinea, shrieking, running against the chicken wire and the corner of the barn as if it could sqeeze through a hole two inches wide. As if it were a camel desperate to fit through that needle's eye. Foolish and rebellious enough to think everything's against it.

Left to myself, I run the wrong way constantly, going from one wrong extreme to the other, driving myself into desperation and constant worry. Fear drives out hope, hope for the husband and family of my own I long for, hope to have the character of a noble, wise, godly woman, hope to make a difference for eternity in at least one life. Left to myself, I wander off into mindless distractions. Left to myself, I am alone and dying

But now, in the cold darkening nights, remember! In the shock of cold, in the bitter pain of frozen fingers, remember! In the selfishness and grasping around me, which creeps into my heart and leaves only loneliness, remember! Remember that into the humblest of families, in the lowest of places, the God of the universe came down as Man. The Word came in humility to whisper in my ear, "You are not alone."

My Maker knows, and sees. And He did not leave me to freeze into stone forever. The change is started, and the pain only proclaims it. His death rescued me from Hell, His life rescues me even now from my sinful flesh. He left, but will come again. And with that final coming, neither fingers nor heart will ever freeze again.

~

Look up, you whose eyes are fixed on this earth, you who are captivated by the events and changes on the surface of this earth. Look up, you who turned away from heaven to this ground because you had become disillusioned. Look up, you whose eyes are laden with tears, you who mourn the loss all that the earth has snatched away. Look up, you who cannot lift your eyes because you are so laden with guilt.
 

“Look up, your redemption is drawing near.”

Something different than you see daily, something more important, something infinitely greater and more powerful is taking place. Become aware of it, be on your guard, wait a short while longer, wait and something new will overtake you! God will come, Jesus will take possession of you and you will be a redeemed people!

Lift up your heads, you army of the afflicted, the humbled, the discouraged, you defeated army with bowed heads. The battle is not lost, the victory is yours—take courage, be strong! There is no room here for shaking your heads and doubting, because Christ is coming.

~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer ~