Faith

Bound on a Train for Glory

I found myself weeping before the Lord this morning as I passionately renounced my most beloved and oldest demon friends for the thousandth time, and then longingly looked back at them heartbroken as the walked away at God’s command.

I cried out, “God, I don’t know why I’m doing that!  I hate them!  I don’t want them!  And a part of me loves them and wants them back already! Help me, God!!! Help me!”

“Worship me,” he whispered. I felt the soft touch of his gentle calloused hand gathering up the tears on my cheeks.

A touch from the Master had already begun to sand away another rough spot on my broken heart. His calloused hand.  A perfectly divine, resurrected body with a calloused hand and a rough, scratchy cheek and coarse dark hair.  

He smelled like sunshine and cedar.

I wept.  Jesus wept.  We wept together for the death of Lazarus in my own heart.  

“Lift your head, weary sinner,” He whispered.

Worship me.

I tell Google to play Lift Your Head Weary Sinner and I worship.  I weep and worship and weep and sing at the top of my lungs. Let the chains fall!  Let the chains fall! My repentance becomes worship.  I worship.

Worship me.

Daddy’s personal playlist for me kicked into full gear.  There is an Anchor played next. 

I kept my head lifted up and I fixed my eyes on the Lord’s gaze.  I’d renounced and confessed and repented.  I’d worshiped. Our eyes stayed locked.  He sees and he loves.  He sees me.  And he loves me.

O Lord, you have searched me and known me!
2 
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
    you discern my thoughts from afar.
3 
You search out my path and my lying down
    and are acquainted with all my ways.
4 
Even before a word is on my tongue,
    behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
5 
You hem me in, behind and before,
    and lay your hand upon me.
6 
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
    it is high; I cannot attain it.
Psalm 139:1-6 ESV

I felt so much relief. The Lord and I were locked in unity.  I allowed Him to keep my gaze, despite my fear and my torment, and He saw me. He saw all of me. 

He has always seen everything in me, every darkness, every fear, and He loves me. 

All those long lost beloved friends of perdition who whisper on the winds of my memories, with their shame and death and suffering, all just disappear into the glorious light. I know my gaze will wander. And I know His gaze wont falter even when mine does.

I don’t have to always understand.  I doubt.  I fear.  I worry.  I am human.  I was born on a train bound for death.  And Jesus loves me.  He offers Himself up to me so we can be one.

And I am reminded again that we are One. Oh, the audacity to consider my fears more terrible than God’s power! His light washes away everything that isn’t light.  

In Him there is no darkness.

5 This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. 1 John 1:5 ESV

I will worship Him.  

I choose to be blinded by His love for me, bound on a train for Glory instead of death, no matter what familiar demons I hear screaming out the window.

To Follow Jesus

The heart of every believer is to follow Jesus and seek His will for their lives. But often that journey is wrought with fear, doubt, and confusion as we listen and try to discern His voice amidst the countless distractions of our busy lives.

My friend Kendra recently posted on Facebook about her own reflections regarding her journey with Jesus and with her permission I am sharing it here:

“At dinner with friends a few weeks ago, someone asked the table: “What would be your ideal? What would represent a ‘dream come true’ for you in regards to your work & life?”

“One friend thought for a moment and responded, “I am kind of done thinking like that. I am learning that God knows my longings and hopes and I can rest in trusting each offering and invitation as they come.”

“This casual defiance of a question has sat with me for a month and has begun to work its way into my being in a shaping way. Over the last few years, I’ve cultivated a way of being which has more often invited me into a place of urgency and confusion than into a place wonder and trust.

“A veracious desire to figure things out, seemed to rob me of the joy of relishing in each step as the path unfolds before me. There is mystery to be uncovered in the life of following Jesus, to be sure, but the mystery becomes a task-master when it becomes a puzzle to solve instead of a wooing to be responded to.

“I had no idea how deeply this misunderstanding had fatigued me over time, and how profoundly I had missed the heart of God in the midst of it. As (my husband) Chase and I prepare to welcome a new little one into the world, and as we, the church, prepare for the season of Advent, I sense that Jesus is inviting us each into a season of rest.

“We can rest, knowing that we can trust Jesus with the things to come, allowing us to be fully present to this Holy moment. We can rest, knowing that our unfulfilled longings and aching questions are held by the kindest love that the world has ever known. We can rest, trusting that the heart of God is for us, preparing our path as we have the courage and faith to keep stepping forward.

“Carla Harding captured this sense of abiding rest in Jesus so well: “Today I rest in the blessing of meekness. I don’t have to fight to make my own way or shout to make my voice heard. Jesus, you go before me. You prepare a place for me. I rest knowing that the earth is my inheritance.”

A photo of Kendra preparing to enjoy some rock climbing.

You Get Used to It

“You get used to it,” Jesus said.  

I’d settled into a folding chair inside the barn across from one of my horse friends, Loki.  She’s a giant Clydsdale paint that I’ve become acquainted with at the small farm I frequent on a weekly basis.  I’ve become pretty good friends with the three horses who live there, and because it was so stinking hot out that day, I’d asked Loki if she was as hot as I was.

And that’s when I heard Jesus say, “You get used to it.”

Now I’ve grown pretty accustomed to hearing from the Lord when I’m there at the ranch.  It’s just one of those places that’s so filled with the Presence of God that it’s palpable.  So, when He spoke, I knew there was a lot more to it than a simple comfort.  

Loki stood in her open box stall, her giant head stretched beyond the stall door, looking at me, quite content with the temperature over 100 degrees.  I’m not used to that kind of heat at all.  Sweat dripped across my forehead faster than I could wipe it away with my shirt sleeve.  

“You get used to it.”  

The Lord was speaking to my heart and I was all ears. I’m certainly not used to the heat!  Air conditioning is my friend and to me the heat seems like a terrible, terrible thing. To Loki, though, it was just another hot day in a series of hot days that would come and go in time.  

I’ve gotten used to a lot of things in my lifetime.  Air conditioning for one, and vacations, and food on the table.  I love church services and coffee dates with friends and wifi and smart phones and cable tv.  I’m definitely used to all of that.

But I’ve also gotten used to depression that lasted for months at a time, knees so bad I can barely walk, and constant chronic illness.  I spent three years bleeding to death because surgery was even more life threatening.  I got used to anemic fatigue and low oxygen concentration and blood transfusions and doctor’s visits.  I got used to slowly dying a little more day by day by day.

Sitting in the heat that day with Jesus made me uncomfortable, but I noticed something else, something beyond the discomfort.  I felt joy.  I really liked sitting there with my friend, Loki. It’s like my therapist is always saying to me, it can be both.  I can be uncomfortable AND happy.  I can be in physical pain AND be at peace.  I can be brave AND be afraid.  I can hate the heat and love being with that horse. God made us complicated and that’s a good thing!

Two years ago I decided to stop bleeding to death and get the surgery that would likely kill me.  Like I said, I’d suffered for three years bleeding to death and getting transfusion after transfusion just to stay alive.  Tests showed a lot of problems going on internally.  Logic told my specialist surgeon that I likely wouldn’t survive the surgery.  He only finally agreed to do it because I’d had so many blood transfusions that my body was going to start rejecting the blood I was getting and that would kill me.  

So, in the summer of 2019 I had the life saving surgery that would likely kill me and I survived.  I spent a month in the hospital, weeks in the ICU on a ventilator, and months in rehabilitation afterwards, but I lived.  

I now like to think of the Summer of 2019 as the time when I decided I no longer wanted to just get used to being sick and dying.  I wanted to live.  My scripture verse in that season was Psalm 118:17 “I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the Lord.”

For so long I thought I had to suffer to experience God’s full power and love.  After all, He’d gotten me through so much and Jesus did say no servant is greater than his Master.  But it truly is a work of God to live abundantly all the time.  To live in trouble and peace.  There is a time and purpose and a season for both.  

For everything there is a season, and a time for every [a]purpose under heaven: 2 a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; 3 a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; 4 a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; 5 a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; 6 a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; 7 a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; 8 a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.Jesus said, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

I got used to being in a season of suffering.  It was all I knew how to do.  It’s how I survived, and I’m so thankful for that.  I know the Lord was with me in it, for better or worse.  I was used to trauma and torture and ruin, and God was with me in it.  Always, always with me.  But now I’m getting used to something new.  

Behold, I am doing a new thing;

    now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

I will make a way in the wilderness

    and rivers in the desert.

Isaiah 43:19

So how hot does it have to get to move beyond the discomfort and into the joy?  Do you have to like the heat? No, but you can learn from it.  And you can be thankful for air conditioning and thankful for a Savior who’s with you in both.  

For me, sitting in the heat for a while with a big, beautiful Clydsdale is totally worth it.  But now I know I don’t have to live there.  I can be thankful for the air conditioning.

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. 8 We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; 9 persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; 10 always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. 11 For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. 2 Cor 4:7-11 (ESV)

My earthen vessel isn’t cracked, it’s smashed.  It’s smashed to dust. And I admit that for a long time I thought there was surely something wrong with me. I felt victimized. I felt wronged.  It wasn’t fair.  It wasn’t right.  I’ve been abused.  I’ve been ravished.   I’ve talked to God about it a lot.  

“But now, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.” Isaiah 64:8 (ESV) 

If He’s the potter and I’m the clay, then why do I feel like dust? 

Did you know how dust becomes clay?  

“Clays form from millions of years of mineral erosion. Mountains break down into boulders, boulders into rocks, rocks into pebbles, sand, silt and eventually, when the silt reaches a certain size of fineness, an amazing transformation occurs. Instead of just being a loose mix, the fine particles manifest an attraction for water and each other at a molecular level. Clay can be thought of less as a material and more of a behavior, the phenomenon of very finely eroded minerals to agglomerate.” (Webb, Patrick “From Dust We Come: A Look at Clay.” Traditional Building. Feb 14, 2017 https://www.traditionalbuilding.com/opinions/a-look-at-clay)

Today as I began to write and lament about my suffering, the Lord reminded me of a vision he’d given me a few years ago. I saw a beaten and battered up old vase sitting on a pedestal.  Light showed through the cracks and broken places and cast an intricate pattern of spider web designs across the walls.  The room was lit up by them.  

The vision could have ended there for me to know that God was working and making beauty from my brokeness, but God had more to show me.  A huge sledgehammer suddenly came down and smashed the vase, but instead of extinguishing the light, an explosion of vibrant colors filled the room. The walls around it could not contain it, and they crumbled into dust as the light and colors filled the world outside with unimaginable beauty as far as the eye could see.  

As I recalled the vision this afternoon, I heard God say, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

There’s my dust. 

I thought back to the Garden of Eden.  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust was a consequence of eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. God had warned Adam and Eve about it, but they didn’t listen.  

Yet I know I’m not suffering the consequences of my sin because I’ve chosen to eat from the tree of life through Jesus instead of the tree of slavery to my own debauchery.  My consequences got paid for on the cross. 

What I’m carrying are the marks of an enemy who hates me.  He hates me because I chose Jesus instead of death.  I chose to eat from the tree of life.  I called BS on the serpent’s lies. 

I think of Jesus, and why He chose to go the cross, and why He called His disciples to do the same.  “And he (Jesus) said to all, ‘If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.’” (Luke 9:23 ESV) We saw Jesus carry His cross. He couldn’t even do it by himself, he needed help!  It was excruciating, horrifying, and brutal. But necessary.  

Jesus came in the flesh to show us that the pain of this world and the death that it brings doesn’t have to be eternal.  He came to show us that we don’t have to suffer the consequences of Adam and Eve and their bad decision.  We can choose for ourselves to take the fruit of life offered by Him. We can choose life. 

It’s a necessary step, suffering.  It’s the consequence of an evil serpent throwing a tantrum because Jesus has offered us eternal life. Jesus knows that road well. He faced those consequences, too.  He did it for us. He submitted to Satan’s tantrum and said, “Give me your worst!” and Satan obliged Him.  

Jesus’s life wasn’t pretty, and it ended brutally, but resurrection followed!  Jesus gets the last word.  Jesus is the Word made flesh.  And the Word cannot be overcome.  It is life and it is beautiful, and he carries the scars on his own resurrected flesh just to remind us of that.  What a gift.  I’m so thankful for it.  

If I’m to follow him in all things, then I must be willing to accept the crushing with the hope that it will bring resurrection life.  Not because God hates me, but because the world does, and God is not content to let me suffer in vain.  There’s got to be beauty that comes from it, or there’s no point in living at all.  

Jesus showed me that because He experienced it.  He laid down his life willingly so that I could see that all the suffering the enemy could throw at me in this world would not be the end of me.  Because He conquered death, if I follow Him in life, I too shall stand upon the wreckage of death and proclaim eternal life through Him who saved me from it!

Ashes to ashes.  Dust to dust. Dust to clay. Clay to life in the Potter’s capable hands.

Hold Me

On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” 36 And leaving the crowd, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. And other boats were with him. 37 And a great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling. 38 But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion. And they woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” 39 And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. 40 He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” 41 And they were filled with great fear and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”

Mark 4:35-41

Jesus likes a good nap as much as I do.  But nobody wants Jesus taking a nap in the middle of a storm.  Like, Dude, we know you’re God and all, but hello, there’s a storm and we’re probably all gonna die, don’t you think you ought to take a nap later?!  

I get it.  The disciples were scared.  Of course they were.  Because it looked like Jesus didn’t care about their needs, or their lives, or their troubles as much as he cared about his nap.  

You’ve been there, haven’t you?  In those times where you feel like God doesn’t care.  Like He’s too busy taking care of other more important things, or that he’s so far removed from you that He can’t even see the storms you’re facing, what with all the angels and clouds and harps and stuff being all distracting up in Heaven.

But that’s just not God.  

Jesus and I have been talking a lot about this lately.  Storms are such a common part of my life.  If it’s not one thing then it’s another.  Health.  Finances.  Kids.  Jobs.  War.  Famine.  Strife.  Why isn’t God doing something?!  It’s like He’s asleep on the job.

So, the other night, my husband and I were faced with one of those big scary storms. See, we always get a little stressed out when it’s forecasted to rain a lot.  Back in 2016 our basement flooded and it traumatized us a little bit.  We’ve taken steps to keep the basement from flooding, but we still get antsy when the forecast calls for a lot of rain.  

So I went to the Lord and I said, “Jesus.  Please don’t let our basement flood.”  

His response was beautiful.  He said, “Come and cuddle here with me in the boat.  Let’s have a nap together.”

I admit it wasn’t the answer I was looking for.  Not at all, honestly.  But this crazy nonsense peace fell over me.  I told my husband what He said and we literally decided to just go to bed and stop worrying about it.  I slept like a baby.  And in the morning everything was fine.  No flooded basement.

That’s who Jesus is. Getting us through our storms is what He does.

Jesus asked His disciples why they didn’t trust Him.  He’s God.  He doesn’t need to be awake to calm the storm.  He knows it’s raging.  He’s God.  And we are safe in His arms.  So safe.  But the disciples still marveled over Him.

“Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”

So, that’s my question for you today.  Who is this Jesus? The one the winds and waves obey? Will you trust Him to lead you and protect you from the storms in your life? When he offers, will you go and cuddle into a good nap with Him the next time the storm clouds rumble and the waves rock you? 

Who is this Jesus? He is God. He is savior. He is yours to trust. Will you trust Him?

Desperately Seeking Jesus

I think we can all agree that 2020 has been one of the craziest years in our lifetime!  Political polarization.  Racial injustice.  Riots.  Murders.  Masks.  Earthquakes.  Fires.  Flooding.  Volcanic eruptions. Zoom meetings.  

In times like this, we are all looking to God for answers.  But how do we hear Him?  What do we even ask him?  And what is His response?

O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
    my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
    as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
Psalm 63:1

Sounds about right.

We desperately seek Him.  We want Him.  We know we need Him.  We cry out to him and yet the air is dry and thick around us.  It doesn’t feel like it’s even possible to hear from God in this mess.

But here’s what David did in Psalm 63:

So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,
    beholding your power and glory.
3 Because your steadfast love is better than life,
    my lips will praise you.
4 So I will bless you as long as I live;
    in your name I will lift up my hands.
Psalm 63:2-4

If I can’t feel God now, I will look for Him where I have seen Him.  I will remind myself of who He is.  I will remember that His Love supersedes all fear, all trials, all division.  I will remember and I will give myself to Him again.  Fresh with praise, I will seek the Lord and the promise of His unfailing love.

My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food,
    and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips,
6 when I remember you upon my bed,
    and meditate on you in the watches of the night;
7 for you have been my help,
    and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.
8 My soul clings to you;
    your right hand upholds me.
Psalm 63:5-8

And my praise turns to meditation.  It turns to the recollections of faithfulness that have been the hallmark of my relationship with Christ.  At night my mind stops wondering about the world and rests instead in the peace of God’s unending faithfulness.  

It’s so hard to feel God when we are in the midst of worldly trials.  Pain and conflict or hard to surrender to God because our flesh isn’t going to stop hurting just because we trust God’s faithfulness.  

Yet, in the agony, in the tumult of the storm, God is still with us.  

As David began to reflect on who God was instead of what God could give him, he began to feel a praise-worthy peace in his soul.  God had proven himself faithful to David.  Always faithful.  David could trust that even though his situation was dire and his weary, desperate heart was parched with raw emotion and fear, God would remain ever faithful.

We can trust that, too.  Even with the world falling down around us.

The trials will not stop in this lifetime.  Not until Jesus returns.  So we cling to Him.  We hold onto His promises.  We remember His faithfulness in our own lives.  We look back on our journey and see His provision and salvation.  We see Him.  And we know that in our current struggles he will remain faithful, just as he always has. 

The riots.  The politics.  The fear.  The desolations of this world.  They don’t matter anymore to the one who finds his peace in the shelter of the Almighty.  God’s wings are broad enough to cover all who would seek refuge there.  

But those who seek to destroy my life
    shall go down into the depths of the earth;
10 they shall be given over to the power of the sword;
    they shall be a portion for jackals.
11 But the king shall rejoice in God;
    all who swear by him shall exult,
    for the mouths of liars will be stopped.
Psalm 63:9-11

And so we can rejoice.  God will have his way.  He is speaking.  He is acting.  He is doing all that He has always done.  He is faithful and His steadfast love is better than life.  So reach out your hands to the ones who are drowning, to the ones who are desperately crying out for salvation, and bring them to the Savior.  

Because at the end of the day, most of our questions to God can be paired down to this simple request: “Will you save me?”

And God’s answer is always, “Yes.”

28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 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. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Matthew 11:28-30

I’m the Girl Who Trusted Jesus: a Glimpse into My Missionary Dating Story

Twenty-six years ago I was a Christian but had never had any discipleship.  I had no growth.  I had no spiritual maturity.  I barely knew the Bible.  I was a good person.  I knew Jesus as savior and when I met a man who seemed to love God more than anything else in the world I married him.  And then I learned that the man I married was so zealous for God he was willing to do anything to prove it to him.  I married a zealous jihadist Muslim with a lust for martyrdom.

Two years later he came to Christ.

And that’s always what people remember when they hear our testimony.  See, I got so desperate for my husband to know Jesus as his savior, that all I could do was pray.  I literally had nowhere else to turn.  I had no background in apologetics.  I had no mentorship in my walk with Jesus.  I had nothing but the Holy Spirit of God within me and a passion to see my husband saved from eternal death.  So I prayed.  And I asked everyone who made eye contact with me to pray, too.

That’s what people hold onto.  That’s the part they remember about me.  They call me a mighty prayer warrior.  And a godly saint who prayed her husband to Jesus.

Yes, I did that.  But that’s not what I want people to know about me.  That’s not my story.  It never has been.

My story is about a girl who fell in love with Jesus when she was 5 years old but never learned anything beyond that.  My story is a girl who in desperation sought the Lord and He answered her.

I sought the Lord, and he answered me
    and delivered me from all my fears.
Psalm 34:4

I had nothing else.  Nowhere to turn.  No argument.  No help.  I had nothing but desperate pleas to the only One who had any power to do anything to help me:  Jesus.

I knew I’d made a mistake when I married my husband.  And no one ever wants to hear that part.  People who hear our testimony see the beauty that came from our ashes, but they don’t want to look at the ashes.  They want to see a hero when they see me.  They don’t want to see the broken girl that had nothing more to offer God than a broken and repentant heart and a desperate cry for help.

Sadly, stories come to me all the time from women who want to date or marry Muslim men in the hope that they can be like me.  This breaks my heart.  It should not be! 

Those two years before my husband’s salvation were the most painful and agonizing years of my life.  Dating a Muslim man or woman (or anyone who doesn’t know Jesus) is not the way to win them to Jesus.  It is arrogant and foolish.  You have no power to save anyone.  And neither did I.  It wasn’t me who saved my husband from Islam.  

Repentance and prayer.  That’s what invited my Lord into my problem.  That’s what got my Lord’s attention:  I came to the end of myself.  I gave up trying to fix the problem on my own.  I had a desperate need for His intervention.  I admitted I was wrong and I asked Him to fix it.  And He did.

For thus said the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel,
“In repentance and rest you shall be saved;
    in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”
But you were unwilling
Isaiah 30:15

I was willing to admit there was nothing I could do.  But so many people are unwilling.  The Isrealites referenced above were unwilling. Humbling yourself is hard. It means admitting you were wrong.  It means admitting you can’t do it on your own.

 But I beg you to try!  Humble yourself and recognize your helplessness.  If you can’t humble yourself, ask God to help you!  Only the Lord can save you.  Not only does He save us from our sin, He rescues us from our mistakes.  He guides us out of the pits we throw ourselves in and restores us when we put our trust and hope in Him.

That’s what I want people to know about me.  That’s how I want to be remembered.  I’m the girl who was willing.  I’m the girl who realized I could do nothing without Jesus.  I’m the girl who cried out for forgiveness and asked for help.  I’m the girl who trusted Jesus and I’m the girl who trusts Him still.  

Don’t trust me.  Trust Him.

A Friend of God

People call me a deeply spiritual person.  A prayer girl.  A friend of God.  Someone who is praying continuously.  I’ve been proud of that.  I like that about myself.  And I suck at it. 

I get angry.  I get irritated.  I get frustrated.  People are stupid and most of the time I throw my hands up in the air with aggravation rather than deal with them.  A problem comes up and I try to handle it with love and kindness.  I try to be a peacemaker.  I really, really do.  Yet, I fail at it miserably all the time.  Because people are stupid.  And so am I.

I’m not nearly as spiritual as I think I am.  I’m not near as good of a friend to God as people think I am.  I’m not continually praying, even when I think I am.  I get distracted by emotion.  I get distracted by myself and my circumstances.  I turn into a victim or a tyrant or even a peacemaker and forget to bring God into the conversation at all.  

No wonder I fail miserably so often!

12We ask you, brothers, to respect those who labor among you and are over you in the Lord and admonish you, 13and to esteem them very highly in love because of their work. Be at peace among yourselves. 14And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle,c encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all. 15See that no one repays anyone evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to everyone. 16Rejoice always, 17pray without ceasing, 18give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 19Do not quench the Spirit. 20Do not despise prophecies, 21but test everything; hold fast what is good. 22Abstain from every form of evil.

23Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. 24He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it.
1 Thessalonians 5:12-22

The other night the Lord said something to me that I can’t stop thinking about.  With all the kindness and tenderness of the sweetest southern gentleman, the Lord asked if I would invite him into the conversation.  The Lord asked me!  Wow.  The King of the Universe lovingly asked me if He could be a part of my conversations.  All of them.  

He didn’t ask me to be quiet.  He didn’t ask me to stop getting frustrated or angry or self righteous. He just asked me if He could be part of my conversations.  No judgement.  No criticism.  Just a gentle request.

I know I don’t invite Him in because deep down inside I think I’ve got it all figured out.  Either that, or I think He won’t like what I have to say, or He’ll stop me from having a voice at all.  He’s the Creator of All Things.  He doesn’t need me or want my opinion.  

What a filthy lie. 

The truth is, the God of the Universe made me in His image to be His friend.  And He loves me!  He doesn’t want a silent slave.  He wants a full fledged son with all the rights of inheritance He has given His Son.  All of it.

And He had to ask me to invite Him into the conversation.

No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.
John 15:15

Jesus, I confess that I’ve not been very good at inviting you into my conversations.  I’ve tried to figure things out on my own.  I’ve lived huge parts of my life only letting You in occasionally.  And I didn’t even realize I was doing it.  So, I’m sorry, Lord.  I’m sorry for not inviting You in.  I took Your forgiveness and neglected Your wisdom.  Please forgive me.  Help me to do better.  Destroy my fear and insecurity.  Destroy my arrogance and any power I think I can manage without Your input.  It’s all Yours, God.  Every bit of who I am You designed.  It’s Your DNA that made me.  Will You show me how to invite You in and still be me?  Will You show me what freedom in sonship looks like?  Will You teach me how to be in You more fully and trust You more deeply so that You are always a part of my conversations.  Always.  I love you, Jesus.  Help me act like it.  Amen.

Breath of Life

 then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature
Genesis 2:7

If you follow my blog, or know me well in person, then you know that I was on a ventilator last year for almost two weeks.  (You can read all the details about it here) I don’t remember it.  Not really anyway.   All I know is that everyone but my husband knew I was going to die.  It was a grievous time.  People flocked to the hospital to give their respects.  To say goodbye.  To offer comfort.  Doctors told my husband to say goodbye to me multiple times.

People say that the ventilator kept me alive.   People are saying that a lot right now because of Covid-19.  Hospitals need ventilators to breathe for people and keep them alive.  But the source of life will never be a ventilator. 

The LORD kills and brings to life; he brings down to Sheol and raises up.
1 Samuel 2:6

When you need a ventilator they have to restrain you so you don’t do something stupid while you’re heavily sedated.  (Like I did when I self extubated and should have died…you can read more about that fun story here.)  And the Church has definitely been restrained.  Public gatherings have been shut down. 

Jesus has shown me the Church as it gasps for breath. In these wretched days, a ventilator seems like the only thing that will keep us alive, whether we’ve gotten sick or not.  Bills need to be paid.  Congregations need comfort and encouragement.  How can any of this happen while we practice social distancing?  Zoom can’t be our new normal, can it? It’s just a stop gap, right?  Until we can breathe on our own again, right?

But, wait a second.  Are we even supposed to be breathing on our own?

Jesus Christ is the breath of life.

When I self-extubated my lungs should have collapsed.  Instead I began to breathe “on my own.”  But here’s a news flash, folks:  I know full well I wasn’t breathing on my own.  Jesus breathed for me.

I pray that the beautiful body of Christ would stop looking for ventilators.  I know it seems logical.  I know it makes sense from human standards.  I know that a ventilator kept me alive last Summer.  But Jesus showed me that He alone keeps me alive.  He alone is my breath.  He alone is our breath.

“Do you think that’s air you’re breathing now?” ~ Morpheus, The Matrix (1999)

 

Maybe being extubated is exactly what we need.  We know right now that we can’t breathe on our own.  We just can’t.  All the things we keep doing are helpful, even encouraging to us.  We want to do something.  We need to do something.  It helps us feel like we are contributing to the life of the Church still somehow.  If we keep those tubes of action in place we don’t have to die.

Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.
John 12:24

Zoom and Facebook and YouTube have been useful and beautiful.  Wanting to live has value!  And these tools have shown us what matters and what doesn’t.  My prayer is that they don’t become just another way for us to live without Jesus.

I can tell you, I shouldn’t be alive. Not by human wisdom.  But Jesus could care less about human wisdom, and so I am alive.  

Can we trust Him in this?  Can we look to the Breath of Life for our resuscitation?  Can we trust Him?  Will we trust Him?  

Lord, thank you for Zoom and Facebook.  Thank you for exhorters and encouragers who say hard things.  Thank you for teachers and pastors who tenderly show us the Word of Life and offer us comfort.  Thank you for servants who weep for our needs in prayer and give beyond their means financially to support the Church.  Thank you, Father, that each member is a part of one body, Your Body.  Thank you that each of us brings something unique and beautiful to this mess that is the Church.  Help us to love one another and consider others higher than ourselves.  Let us love without judgment.  Let us trust that You are working even when we can’t seem to work together or have opposing points of view.  You are on Your Throne and that is something that we can all agree with.  Bring us unity.  Restore Your Church, Heavenly Father.  Bring Jesus back.  Set things right once and for all. Breathe for us, Daddy. Amen.

The List

If you knew that tomorrow the whole population of the world would either live or die depending on what list they were on, and that the those who were on the list of the living would be given great gifts and reward, while the list of those who were dying would only have what they had built for themselves before their death, wouldn’t you want to be on the list of the living? What would you pay to be on the right list? What would you do in order to be on that list? What would you do to make sure the people you know and love could be on that list too?

I know of such lists, though I do not know the day on which they will be called into account. I am on the living list and have been instructed to invite everyone that I can to join me on the life list.

But the master of the death list has made it his life’s work to keep as many people off of the life list as he can. He’s convinced people that what they do now is more important than what they do tomorrow, and that the riches and power and knowledge they achieve through their own hard work is a far better gift than a life filled with things of even greater value that they did not earn or deserve.

I’m brokenhearted that so many people believe that their own effort can force them onto the life list, but the master of the life list has said that no one is good enough to get on the life list because the death list master convinced everyone that the only way to really live is to decide for yourself what life should look like. And that sounds so good to everyone that they don’t even want to consider the life list because they think they’re already on it!

But the only way to get on the life list is to admit that the master of the life list has a much better understanding of life than the death list master because he is the ultimate source of life in the first place.

But the life list master can’t bear the thought of anyone willingly staying off the life list because they have been lied to, so he confronted the death list master and beat him at his own game. He allowed the death master to kill him, and then (because he is the master of the life), death could not hold him. He came back to life.

Now anyone who can admit that they have been duped into believing that they can have life apart from the life master, can choose to believe that the life offered by the life master is far better than the lie that the life of the death master has offered, and can receive a place on the list of life and receive all the abundance of life offered by the master of life. Forever.

All anyone has to do is confess that they have been believing in the death list master and following their own desires with the belief that it will give them life. Then turn to the life list master and ask him to give them life. And he shall give it to them.

Choose to stop believing the lie. Choose life with the master of life.

John 10:10