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.

In My Mind

In my mind.

Rubbed raw and brutal like burlap and salt on exposed wounds.

In my mind they fly

A tumult of debris in the hurricane of yesterday

Rubbing raw moments when hope was abandoned, when love became a tiresome and deceptive fear

In my mind.

When sex was rage and pain and blood and fear and loss.

No innocence left at five years old when hope was not a word I knew

In my mind. I listened and cried and waited.

Steel wool scraping away the rust of abandoned steel, twisted metal, fortune lost, potential extinguished.

In my mind where yesterday and today and tomorrow are jumbled together in frenzied footsteps and screams in black night.

Rubbed raw cheeks, burning eyes, a snow bank, a motorcycle, a tent

In my mind blowing away like glowing embers from a campfire, faerie dust fantasy.

In my mind so many words I do not know,

Pictures painted all at once with watercolors that run together and blur everything to numb dark and muddy gray.  Nothing but a stain.

In my mind.

Enter age like dried flowers, beauty and fragrance gone to memory, tight and lost and distant.

Blank pages filled with dark smears of tears and rage and fire.

Thick legs hold up what horror has melted like pure white snow into mud.

Pale body, mottled with scars, carries jagged stones in its fragile shell.

In my mind this sack of skin and blood and tissue and bone, leaking and torn and putrid, burned.

Worn down to sackcloth and ashes, mourning life lost.

In my mind a life fully spent, waits to finally, blissfully come to its end, come crashing down, come undone, come home.

Wicked thoughts despised, repressed, regressed, rubbed raw.

Through a glass dimly.

In my mind I tried.

Eyes of fire burn it down. No more raw, splintered metal.  No more rusted ruin extinguished, thirsty.

I am thirsty, in my mind.

Rubbed raw revelation, trickling down in a miniscule sliver of silver water that flows from within the pound of flesh fulfilled.

In my mind these heavy stones, these lumps of pummeled appendages grasping and scraping and wheezing

Cough one more breath as I lay dying.  Heart compressed into diamonds as many as the stars in the Heavens to share.

Forever treasures feasting, filling, finding one more breath again and again. One more drop of blood to move through this not quite corpse.

In my mind.

Champion’s crown of victory revealed in final breaths that never cease.  Always one more. That trickle of silver gleaming diamond water that grows and feeds and fulfills.

Sustain this bag of bones and flesh and blood.  Permeate.  Initiate.  Exonerate.

In my mind. Abundant life. Words on pages intangible.

Rubbed raw, relentless, but still one more breath.

Always one more breath, oh Breath of Life, oh River of Living Water.

I drink and drink and drink and life unfolds from this lump of mud and decay and death.

In His mind I am healed, refined, undaunted, vigorously restored, courageous, resplendent.

And in my mind, alive, renewed, I dance.

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

Walking Miracles

Yesterday my daughter and I were having a conversation about current events.  I did my best to answer honestly and without fear about the coronavirus, self-quarantine, and the practicality of washing our hands and avoiding contact with others.  And perhaps for obvious reasons, the topic eventually turned to my month in the hospital last June.  

You see, I don’t really remember much about my time there.  I know an ambulance came and picked me up early one morning because I had excessive hemorrhaging and was in excruciating pain. I remember one of the EMTs told my husband that hydrogen peroxide would get the blood out of the mattress and sheets, and the other EMT recognized my husband from when he had spoken at his church.

I remember that EMT holding my hand and praying with me in the ambulance, but I don’t remember getting to the hospital, or going into surgery, or even the few weeks after the surgery. I’d had complications during and after a six hour surgery.  I never went to recovery, but went straight to the ICU. The surgeon took my husband into a private room and told him to say goodbye. He told him I probably wouldn’t make it through the night. 

For the next few weeks my husband heard doctor after doctor tell him the same thing. I’d rally for a few hours or maybe a day before something else would bring death knocking on my door again.  My lungs failed, my kidneys failed, I went into septic shock. It didn’t look good, but my husband was undaunted, and God’s church rallied around me in prayer, refusing to admit defeat. Refusing to see Daisy die.

So, that takes us back to my conversation with my daughter yesterday. She had been in the ICU with me and my husband on one of those occasions where things took a dark turn. 

My arms were restrained to keep me from panicking and pulling any tubes out.  I guess I fought at the restraints quite a bit. At some point that afternoon I forcibly yanked my arm free and pulled the breathing tube out before anyone could stop me!  Yes, I extubated myself. My daughter said that Daddy screamed “NO!” and then yelled at Sophia to go get a nurse.

And yesterday, my daughter talked to me about that experience.  She said that medical staff poured into my room. She told me how five nurses turned to fifteen and then she heard the terrifying words, “We’re losing her!” 

She ran out of the room so she didn’t have to watch me die.

She told me how she paced down the hallways around the ICU waiting area.  She saw people mourning. She heard a nurse say that I was the patient in the ICU most likely to die.  She saw other families suffering while they waited and wondered what was going on with their own loved ones in critical care.  So much death. So much fear. So little hope. She ended up praying with multiple families, serving others because there was no other way for her to work it out.

Yesterday was not the first time I’d heard this story.  But it was the first time I’d heard it from her. With so many uncertainties in her life right now:  Covid-19, graduating from HS, getting her first car, getting into the college she wants, the list could go on for days.  But that’s not what she wanted to talk about. She wanted to talk about the time she almost watched her mommy die.

We talked about her fear.  We talked about her courage.  We talked about God and His power to turn the worst situations into blessings.  We prayed together and held each other. And maybe we even cried a few tears together.  We connected over our own entangled tragedy. We connected through the shared experience of overcoming death. 

We stood in awe at the power of God.  

As our conversation started to conclude, my daughter looked at me earnestly and said, “You know, Mom, you’re a walking miracle.”  

I smiled and nodded and thought to myself, “Aren’t we all.” 

 

Complete Joy

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
Matthew 11:28

Sometimes I just get tired and defeated and I want to give up.  It hurts. I have war wounds that never seem to heal. I get delivered from one thing only to be devoured again by something else.  What’s the point of fighting? 

I say these things to remind myself that it’s okay to fall short.  It’s okay to be broken and sad about it. Really. It’s okay. This isn’t actually about you.  At least not in the ways you might think. The suffering of the Christ follower always has purpose.

10 So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
Isaiah 41:10

I stumble and fall, but I get back up again, even when I don’t want to.  I get up because I am weak and broken and yet I am triumphant. Yes, you heard me right.  It’s about triumph. It’s about trust in that triumph. Pain and failure are always an opportunity to need God desperately and find that He is utterly faithful, utterly strong, and utterly victorious.  Always.

39 The salvation of the righteous is from the Lord;
    he is their stronghold in the time of trouble.
40 The Lord helps them and delivers them;
    he delivers them from the wicked and saves them,
    because they take refuge in him.
Psalm 37:39-40

Jesus looked really, really defeated on that Roman cross.  I think Satan thought he’d actually done it: defeated the King of Kings.  But we all know what happened next. After suffering horrifically, after scourging and mocking and humiliation, after slowly bleeding out and getting weaker and weaker, after agonizing asphyxiation, Jesus allowed himself to die. 

And that looked like the opposite of deliverance. Especially when we recall Psalms 37  “…he delivers them from the wicked and saves them…” 

Jesus couldn’t have victory over death until he’d experienced it.  

21 For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps. 22 He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in his mouth. 23 When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly. 24 He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed.
1 Peter 2:21-24

Death wasn’t the end for Jesus, and it’s not the end for us.  

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared. 2 And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3 but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. 4 While they were perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in dazzling apparel. 5 And as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? 6 He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, 7 that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise.”
Luke 24:1-7

That pretty much says it all, right?  

He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.
Isaiah 40:29-31

So when the time has come to suffer again, and I’m feeling weary from the pain, I will look to the cross of Christ and find my strength.  I will remember the suffering that leads to victory, and my joy will be as Christ’s.  Death isn’t the end.  

john-1511

Just Show Up

I can really get frustrated when God doesn’t tell me His plan.  Doesn’t He understand that I need to know? I’ve got things to do, people to see!  How am I supposed to do that effectively if I don’t know the details of His plan?

God has a chuckle every time I talk to him like that.

The sad thing is, I know full well I don’t need to know every detail of His plans for me.  I just don’t. How would I ever learn to trust Him if I always knew what was going to happen?  But I’m ornery. I’m stubborn. I wanna know, dangit!

God is so gentle, though, isn’t He?  He’s patient and kind. He knows how much I love Him and how much I struggle with trusting Him.  So He shows me love instead of wrath.

The Lord passed before him and proclaimed, “The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, 7 keeping steadfast love for thousands,[a] forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children and the children’s children, to the third and the fourth generation.” Exodus 34:6-7

When I was in the hospital, God did something that I can’t stop thinking about.  (To be honest, He did a lot of things I can’t stop thinking about!) He showed up, faithful and true, while I was sedated and saying all kinds of weird stuff.  

I wasn’t really there in my mind.  I was intubated, sedated, in terrible pain, and I definitely didn’t know the plan.  But God did. And He showed up. 

Over and over again, people have been telling me how the Glory of the Lord was there with me in the ICU.  It overwhelmed people with love and peace and light.  

I didn’t need to know all the details.  I still don’t know them all. I will likely never know.  Propofol and Fentanyl did a great job in handling my pain (apparently) and giving me solid amnesia for two weeks.  Like John Snow, I knew nothing.

And God showed up. 

That was all I had to do, too.  I showed up. I showed up in delirious pain, full of drugs to keep me “comfortable”, and I demanded nothing.  I was just there.  

God is so good.  All we have to do is show up.  Really. We don’t need to know anything else.  I’m learning this slowly. But God is patient with me.  I will forever worship Him for His love is enduring and patient and kind.  

 8 And Moses quickly bowed his head toward the earth and worshiped. 9 And he said, “If now I have found favor in your sight, O Lord, please let the Lord go in the midst of us, for it is a stiff-necked people, and pardon our iniquity and our sin, and take us for your inheritance.” Exodus 34:8-9

Stiff necked as we are, God shows up.  Why should we try do anything more?

 

I Will Declare What the Lord has Done

My doctor told me I was going to die if I didn’t have surgery. He said that the surgery was very risky and there was a high risk of complications and even death.  What I heard was: it was likely death either way. Surgery was scheduled less than a week later.  

The day before the surgery the pain in my abdomen became excruciating.  An ambulance took me to the hospital. My daughter said she could hear me screaming from the waiting room as they wheeled me upstairs after being admitted.

I woke up two weeks later still in the ICU.  There had been complications. I’d been on a ventilator for ten days. My lungs failed. My kidneys failed.  I got pneumonia. And finally sepsis. From what I understand from the story, I should have died multiple times.  But instead of dying I lived. Miraculously. Doctors were flabbergasted. 

My poor husband.  It had to be so hard to be pulled into a private room and told I likely wouldn’t survive the night multiple times.  How horrible.

Our God had different plans.  People began to rally prayer for me.  I had people praying on six different continents!  As I’ve recovered, multiple people that I didn’t even know have come to me to introduce themselves and tell me how God had laid me on their heart in a powerful way to pray.  

A friend of mine at church organized prayer in her home and enlisted people to pray everywhere she went.  There was a 24 hour prayer vigil. They put my picture on the screen at church and had a special prayer time for me every week.  Streams of concerned people came to the hospital to pray over me and my family. A doctor even asked my husband who I was that so many people kept coming to pray for me.

Who am I? I am loved by the Creator of the Universe.  I am His.  

I’m recovering well now that I’ve been home for a few weeks.  My wounds have been healing at a miraculous rate. The wound care doctor was blown away by the speed of healing.  And my strength has returned quickly. That’s God for you. Because of God’s mercy and because of the prayers of the saints, I am alive. When, at the Lord’s leading, people come together to pray, miracles happen.

I am so thankful for the Lord’s mercy and for His hand over me.  And I am humbled by all of those who prayed for me without ceasing.  Thank you. I’m alive.

I will not die but live, and will proclaim what the LORD has done.
Psalms 118:17

Oh Mighty Man of Valor

And the angel of the LORD appeared to him and said to him, “The LORD is with you, O mighty man of valor.”
Judges 6:12

I’ve had a lot of people tell me I was courageous.  At times in my life I’ve felt like I was. I even have “Be strong and courageous” tattooed on my wrist.  But there are times when I just want to hide away from the world and stay “safe”, afraid and in the dark, but safe.  

But as I was praying this morning, the Lord reminded me of this verse from Judges.  Poor Gideon was hiding in a hole, afraid of getting killed, when he had a visitation and a calling from the Lord.  

Gideon felt and acted like a coward.  And that’s sometimes what I do. We all do it, right?  But that’s not what God sees. He doesn’t see our fear or failings.  He blotted out our transgressions, our fears, our cowardice, our doubt.  

Our God defined Gideon as a mighty man of valor before he’d done anything valourous at all.  But if you are familiar with the story, you know what happens with Gideon. God patiently, pleasingly, persistently guides Gideon into discovering who God made him to be.

We need to remember that.  We aren’t who we think we are.  We were made with a purpose, to be God’s ambassadors.  We were made to be strong and courageous, not by overcoming our fear and doubt, or fighting through our circumstances, but by God.  God made us strong and courageous. We walk confidently into battle because of Him.

As David said so confidently, as a kid with a slingshot against the world’s definition of a “mighty man of valor”:

“You come to me with a sword and with a spear and with a javelin, but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied.”
1 Samuel 17:45

I think that one of the most important things we can learn from scripture is that we don’t have to rely on ourselves.  God is with us. And what a great relief that is. I don’t know about you, but I’m really done relying on myself. I put all my money on God’s power within me.

31 What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?
Romans 8:31

Modern Miracles: Controversy Alert!

I spent a good portion of my adult life in churches that believed that miracles were something that only happened during “Biblical Times”.  The idea that the giftings of the Spirit of God were only true in a long time ago when the Church really needed it to advance the Gospel. (This view is called cessationism if you were wondering.)

Never having learned anything else, I accepted this as fact even though it twitched in the back of my head as not feeling right.  Now, I’m not trying to start a debate with anyone, and I’m not trying to say that millions of people with this point of view are wrong. I’m just saying it didn’t sit right with me.

As I grew in my relationship with Jesus, and grew in my love and reading of the Bible, I began to experience things in my life that could only be described as miracles.  And I didn’t know how to partner these experiences with the teachings I heard from the pulpit.

I watched my devout Muslim husband come to Christ.

I experienced physical, instantaneous healings.

I knew things about people that I couldn’t possibly have known and was somehow able to speak to them in that knowledge and offer supernatural encouragement and wisdom.  

I began to hear God speaking to me in my “heart”.  I heard scripture that I didn’t know but googled to discover was in the Bible.

I got comfort when I should have felt nothing but pain.

I felt freedom when horrible things in life had enslaved me.

I could go on and on and on about this stuff.  And the older I get, and the more I “grow” in my love affair with Jesus, the more experiential and miraculous my encounters with the Living God become.  It has become undebatable to me. I know what I know. It’s my testimony.

God has empowered us, gifted us, to do miracles.  Ya, that’s what I said. And He did it for His Glory and for His bride and for His Honor.  In other words, He did it for us and for Him.

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 Corinthians 4:7-11

Do you hear that?  Those are miracles.  Miracles that glorify a Good God, a Worthy God, a Loving God.  Miracles we might miss if we are too busy questioning the validity of such things.

Lord, teach us to see the miraculous.  Teach us to see Your Power. Teach us to be Your Bride and Your Sons, with full inheritance to what You offer us.  Teach us to listen better to You and test everything against Your Word and Your Spirit. Lord teach us to think and listen and learn through Your Spirit, so that we can be more conscious of the miracles you want to perform through us and for us.  Amen.

 

Leftovers

20 Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.
Ephesians 3:20-21

Thanksgiving in America has become a celebration of all matters of opulence.  We eat a huge turkey “stuffed” with bread. We engage in a feast of desserts and sweets and treats, before, during and after a grand meal.  Even our vegetables are celebrated in excess: sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, creamed corn, salad upon salad.

We come together and drink wine and celebrate our huge families, or our huge amount of friends, or our huge amount of food and festivity.  We argue over politics and social justice and how the government should spend its copious amounts of cash.

And then we go shopping and celebrate our own cash hoards.  Huge sales, huge expenditures, huge tvs, huge toys, huge crowds, huge SUVs to put it all in.  It’s just more and more and more. All in celebration of our abundance.

Our God is the God of abundance.  He is a God of provision. Of leftovers.  Of fullness. But we’ve lost the plot in favor of celebrating ourselves and our own achievements, our own leftovers.  What if we stopped looking at ourselves and our great prosperity, and started to look to God for our fulfillment, our nourishment, and our joy?

God loves to take care of His children.  We’re often just so caught up with taking care of ourselves that we forget that God wants to be our provision, and give us leftovers besides!

Look what happened in Scripture with Elisha:

42 A man came from Baal-shalishah, bringing the man of God bread of the firstfruits, twenty loaves of barley and fresh ears of grain in his sack. And Elisha said, “Give to the men, that they may eat.” 43 But his servant said, “How can I set this before a hundred men?” So he repeated, “Give them to the men, that they may eat, for thus says the Lord, ‘They shall eat and have some left.’” 44 So he set it before them. And they ate and had some left, according to the word of the Lord.
2 Kings 4:42-44

The servant immediately looked to find provision among the worldly offering presented by the man from Baal-shalishah.  He looked at the food and instantly decided that there was no way that food would go all the way around. But Elisha doesn’t look at the food, he looks instead to the provider of the food: God, who made the food and brought it to them.

Elisha then proclaims the Lord’s provision, “they shall eat and have some left”.  Elisha knew that God is a God of leftovers. He didn’t doubt it, or look to himself.  He knew.

In the New Testament, the Disciples got the same opportunity to look to God for provision.  They knew the scriptures and the story of Elisha. They had learned these stories from history since their childhood.  But when the time came to proclaim the provision of the Lord, they looked instead to themselves.

15 Now when it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a desolate place, and the day is now over; send the crowds away to go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” 16 But Jesus said, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” 17 They said to him, “We have only five loaves here and two fish.”
Matthew 14:15-17

The Disciples fell into the same trap we are all guilty of at times.  They looked at what they had instead of what God could provide. Jesus had given them the perfect chance to fall back into the grace and provision of the Father, and instead they panicked.  Their response to the people’s need for food, “send them away to take care of themselves!”

It had to break Jesus’ heart to have His beloved friends so quickly turn from trusting God in the invisible things, but not trusting Him in the physical things.  They looked to themselves instead of the promises of God. Even though they had the Holy Scriptures to know that God could provide for them.

Jesus is patient, though.  He would not waste the lesson He wanted to teach because of His friend’s lack of faith.  Instead, He spoke with authority and faith to His Disciples.

8 And he said, “Bring them here to me.” 19 Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass, and taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven and said a blessing. Then he broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. 20 And they all ate and were satisfied. And they took up twelve baskets full of the broken pieces left over. 21 And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.

God is the God of leftovers.  Isn’t it time we celebrated Him instead of ourselves?

give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.”
Luke 6:38