The Shepherd's Daughter

Shelley Lloyd Smith

Category: Jesus

Close Encounters of the God Kind

Close Encounters of the God Kind

Posted on by Shelley

I didn’t plan to have an encounter with God the other night.

As if one could plan that kind of thing anyway. I doubt Moses’ To-do list on The Day of the Burning Bush read:

  1. Tend sheep.
  2. Encounter God.

God-encounters can’t be predicted. Neither can they be denied.

Wyoming thunderstorms are also difficult to predict. This one rolled through town unannounced, accompanied by torrential rain and quarter-size hail. My husband Chris and I scrambled to cover our flowers before the worst of the hail hit, getting thoroughly soaked in the process. Then we safely enjoyed the rest of the show through rain-streaked windows. (Except for the dog, who hid shamelessly in the basement.)

The storm eventually passed, as storms eventually do. I decided there was still time to squeeze in my daily walk, despite the unexpected weather delay. So I laced up my tennies, donned a warmer shirt, and headed down our hail-lined gravel driveway. My eyes focused only on my feet, as I tried to avoid stepping in muddy rivulets or slipping on icy marbles. After successfully navigating a path to the paved street below, I planned to turn right, but felt prompted to look left.

Above me hung the most amazing cloud formation I have ever seen! A massive macaron, suspended in the eastern sky, spotlighted by beams of setting sun. It was breathtakingly beautiful. The glory of God perched right at the end of my driveway.

I stood there in stunned silence. Chin raised, jaw dropped. I suddenly felt very small. Yet, at the same time, blessed to behold such magnificence.

What does one do in the presence of Glory? Shake off one’s shoes, like Moses? Fall on one’s face, like Isaiah?

I pulled out my iPhone.

Not very spiritual, I know, but very “on brand” for me. I always keep my camera close, ready to capture the moment. But my amateur panoramic shot just couldn’t do this momentous moment justice.

I lingered beneath that cloud, feeling almost as if I was peering through a portal into Heaven itself. If a flash mob of angels had appeared and broken out into the Hallelujah Chorus, I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised. All too soon, however, the brilliance dimmed, and the enormous cloud disappeared into the twilight. I turned westward, resuming my walk and pondering what I had just experienced.

Back home, I eagerly showed the photo to my hubby. He thought it looked more like an alien invasion than an angelic visitation. (Apparently, aliens like to hide their spaceships in these types of clouds. Apparently, Chris likes to read too many sci-fi novels.) We’re still here. So I’ll assume he was mistaken, at least about this particular cloud.

As for me, I’m still processing my Close Encounter of the God Kind. Glimpses of glory require reflection. (Alien invasions probably do too.)

Here’s what I’ve got so far:

  • God is more majestic than we can ever imagine. The Bible says that He “…(lays) the beams of His palace on the waters above, making the clouds His chariot, walking on the wings of the wind.” (Psalms 104:3, HCSB) If creation is so awe-inspiring, then how much more its Creator?
  • God reveals His glory in the world around us and the skies above us. The Night of the Incredible Cloud, this verse was on repeat in my mind: “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.” (Psalm 19:1, NIV) Evidence of His existence abounds. His glory is everywhere, on display.
  • All we have to do is look up. I was so fixated on my feet that evening that I almost missed the majesty. I walked the entire length of my driveway unaware that Heaven was right at hand. Luke 21:28 compels us to “…look up and lift up your heads, because your redemption draws near.” (KJV) What is this redemption? It’s Jesus, returning for His bride! And guess how He will appear?

“Then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.” (Luke 21:27, NKJV, italics mine)

Did you catch that cloud reference? (I’ve got chills.) I can’t help but wonder if the sky on The Day of His Return will look something like it did the other night. Actually, I bet it will be So. Much. More. Glorious. One thing is certain: it will be impossible to miss!

On that Day, the Bible states that “…every knee will bow…and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” (Philippians 2:10-11, NASB) There won’t be time to upload a pic. You’ll be down on your knees, singing His praise.

Until then, let’s keep our chins up. Literally.

Lift your eyes to the heavens.

Watch the clouds for His return.

He’s coming soon, and the whole earth will be full of His Glory.

Unexpected Treasure

Unexpected Treasure

Posted on by Shelley

“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

I often think of this quote when I go thrifting. Amongst the “trash,” treasures await. My bounty might consist of a gold-rimmed teacup, tiny silver spoons, or an elegant serving dish. These are then rehomed, restored, and reentered into service at my tea parties.

On a recent Goodwill run, however, I returned home with a different kind of treasure. The Bible places the value of this treasure above the gold and silver articles that might adorn a fancy tea table. (See Proverbs 3:13-15.) I didn’t pluck this treasure off a shelf, but received it from the “mouth of babes.” (See Matthew 21:16.)

I was conducting my usual rounds, scanning the shelves in search of that special something, when a breathless, brown-haired girl of preschool age nearly bumped into me. Wide-eyed, she reversed course and scampered down a nearby aisle.

“Emily? EMILY?” she called frantically, her anxiety rising with each repeated question. Just as I was about to offer my assistance, an older version of the young girl popped out from behind a rack of clothes. Emily. The frightened girl was visibly relieved to be reunited with (what I assumed to be) her big sister.

As I resumed my rounds, I overheard the following exchange.

Emily: “Are you scared?”

Emily’s voice was comforting, kind. I pictured her mini-me nodding silently in response. Emily continued in a sweet, soothing tone.

“Don’t be afraid. Because Jesus…”

Her words trailed off as my steps placed her out of earshot. I mentally completed her sentence.

“Because Jesus…is always with you.”

Yes. That’s what she would have said.

But the more I thought about it, I decided I preferred to leave the phrase open-ended.

“Don’t be afraid. Because Jesus…”

It could now be finished in a number of different, and equally meaningful ways.

“Because Jesus…loves you.”

“Because Jesus…will help you.”

“Because Jesus…understands.”

I left Goodwill empty-handed, yet carrying an unexpected treasure. I carefully turned it over and over in my mind, examining the profound wisdom cradled in five simple words. My newly acquired treasure even traveled with me the next morning to the dentist’s office, where I faced a dreaded filling. Nervously reclining in the vinyl chair, I recited Emily’s wise-beyond-her-years words to myself, tapping out the eight syllables with my sweaty fingertips.

“Don’t be afraid. Because Jesus…”

“Don’t be afraid. Because Jesus…”

Her encouraging words comforted me. Jesus’ encircling presence calmed me.

“Because Jesus.” Because if you have Jesus, you have everything. He is always enough.

How about you? Are you anxious? Scared? Feeling a bit lost? Might I encourage you to take hold of dear Emily’s wisdom and treasure it as your own?

“Don’t be afraid. Because Jesus…”

Let Him fill in the blank for you. He knows exactly what you need in this very moment. Or perhaps He’ll leave it open, and instead fill your heart with the comforting and calming assurance that He truly is enough.

I have set the Lord continually before me;
Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. (Psalm 16:8, NASB)

Underwhelmed

Underwhelmed

Posted on by Shelley

“Did you see it?”

I texted my friend Ruth Ann about the “Christmas Star,” the greatly anticipated alignment of Jupiter and Saturn in the winter solstice sky. Some called it the “Bethlehem Star,” speculating that a similar planetary conjunction formed the famous star that led three kings on a quest to worship a newborn King. I grew up singing the praises of that spectacular star: “Star of wonder, star of night, star with royal beauty bright…”

Ruth Ann’s response reflected my own.

“I guess! I’m sorry to say I was underwhelmed by what I saw. From what I had seen & read they built it up to something more grandiose…”

We expected this star to look more like the ones on the front of our Christmas cards.

Instead, we were left unimpressed and underwhelmed.

I wondered what else about the Christmas story I had inflated in my childhood imagination. Other than an angelic chorus which disrupted the shepherds’ silent night, there was really nothing else that remarkable about the birth of Jesus. No special effects. Nothing supernatural.

In fact, what was most extraordinary about His advent was its ordinariness.

Nothing to see here, but an inconspicuous teen mom, weary from travel and teary from travail. A blotchy newborn face, a misshapen crown. Nothing to hear but stable animals, agitated by an infant’s incessant wails.

(“The little Lord Jesus no crying He makes…”? Maybe we need to rethink those lyrics, too.)

The scene was understatedly earthy. Overwhelmingly ordinary.

And yet.

Something magnificent and other-worldly had just occurred.

A Heavenly Invasion.

A Heroic Intervention.

A Hopeful Incarnation.

All held in the awkward arms of a first-time father who probably still had acne.

(I mean no disrespect. I’m just trying to bring a little grit to the Christmas carol glam.)

Still He comes.

Humbly. Quietly. Nothing grandiose or self-promoting.

Just very real, and very present.

How often do we miss His glory, as we chase shinier objects? Seeking Spielberg-like effects, we stroll right past the wonder of a God who is content to simply be “with us.”

Immanuel. The Miracle, lying in a manger.

Expectation usually leads to dissatisfaction. Don’t let your imagination cause you to miss His invitation.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 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.” (Matthew 11:28-29, NIV)

Your King calls. Beckoning, like a glinting star on the southern horizon.

Whispering, “Come.”

Intensive Care Prayer

Intensive Care Prayer

Posted on by Shelley

What do you pray in an ICU room?

I had no idea.

But I was about to find out.

I had driven to the Intensive Care Unit at a Denver hospital to be with some of our dearest friends. Marc, their beloved husband, father, brother, uncle, and son, had been in a terrible car accident less than three days earlier. He had been hit by a drunk driver and was in critical condition, in an induced coma, and on a ventilator. The strain of the past few days was evident on the faces of this large, loving family as we hugged and visited in the ICU waiting area.

When it was my turn, my sweet friend Cathy led me through the door and into the ICU. Marc is her husband of almost 25 years. She had hardly left his side since the accident, snatching sleep in the uncomfortable vinyl chair next to his hospital bed.

At that moment, however, the chair was occupied by Emily, the youngest of their four adult children. She and her dad have always had an affectionate and close relationship. Her pain was palpable.

Cathy and I flanked the chair, hugging Emily and rubbing her back and shoulders. We stood there mostly in silence, the three of us holding onto each other, the regular rhythm of Marc’s breathing the only sound in the room.

Then I sensed the nudging of the Holy Spirit to pray.

Pray? Here? Now? How?

Doubting my ability to utter an intelligible prayer in this place, I ignored the prompting. It persisted.

I finally managed to squeak out a feeble offer of prayer. Emily whipped her head around and nodded with a hopeful, pleading expression, as if to say, “What took you so long?” Emily loves to pray for people, and has graciously prayed for me on more than one occasion. How could I let fear hold me back from interceding for her family in their desperate time of need?

So, grasping hands, we bowed our heads and came before the throne of Grace.

My prayer went something like this:

Oh Lord, You feel the pain. You see the suffering. You, Jesus, are the “Man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.”* You understand. You’re here. You see. You know. You care. You are Good, even though this is not good. We know you will bring good out of it. We ask You to work a miracle. You are the Healer. You are able. You are worthy of our trust. Please come and do what only You can do. In Jesus’ name, and for Your glory. Amen.

That was it. That’s what came out. At the time it felt painfully inadequate. Later, I realized I had simply affirmed truths about our God. It hit me that in moments of crisis, what comes out is what we’ve put in.

Cathy, Emily, and I, along with Marc’s mom and sister, are in a weekly Bible study together. We’ve spent a lot of time in God’s Word over the years, learning about His character and His promises. We didn’t know it then, but we were training for such a time as this. A time when we’d need to stand on these truths.

God Sees.

God Understands.

God Cares.

God is Good.

God Is Able.

God Heals.

God Can Be Trusted.

When life changes, HE does not. Our faith is built on a Solid Rock, the unwavering character of a Faithful God.

Marc shares our faith. He knows and loves the One who extends mercy and offers eternal life to all who ask. Because of this assurance, we know his outcome will be Good, whatever happens.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28, ESV)

All things. Even this. As lovers of God, we have this confidence.

Knowing who God is and what He has promised is what anchors the believer in Christ. It’s what we hold onto. It’s what holds onto us.

…for I know whom I have believed and I am convinced that He is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him until that day. (2 Timothy 1:12b, NASB)

We have a Hope that prevails, even in ICU rooms. That wraps its arms around us in our devastation and comforts us. That steadies us in the fiercest storm. And helps us when we don’t know how or what to pray.

His name is Jesus. Emmanuel. God with us.

Do you know Him?

 

Notes:

*This description of the coming Messiah is found in Isaiah 53.

Here is a link to Marc’s CaringBridge site, where his family is posting regular updates and prayer requests:

https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/marcwoods?fbclid=IwAR2okSHBVVod_Brk0UyHqz0QA4doPTaDc7fbruKq2uIvIJ68C12Nt2T7TXY

If you feel led to help meet the family’s financial needs during this difficult time, here is his GoFundMe page:

https://www.gofundme.com/marc-woods039-recovery?fbclid=IwAR0cF4XI64DAfsuCSOkMZSZHjfYEKnsiXqPCRxDJsY5ps6Ek0F9FGJY224k

A Photograph and a Poem

A Photograph and a Poem

Posted on by Shelley

I was weary and discouraged. A couple of very difficult appointments with clients at the pregnancy center where I work had left me questioning my abilities and doubting my adequacy. I felt like a failure. I wanted to quit.

But I had a Bible study to prepare for that evening. Flipping through the pages of my workbook, I spotted the photograph. Thoughtful Geraldine had excitedly given it to me before the start of our study the previous week. It was a picture of a sunset over the Sea of Galilee in Israel, with a short poem printed below. She knew I had traveled to the Holy Land and thought of me when she saw it. I didn’t have time to look closely at it just then, so I tucked it between the pages of my workbook and promptly forgot about it.

Until now.

I picked up the photograph and slipped on my reading glasses to examine it more carefully. The sun, setting behind the Galilean hills, was in the shape of a Star of David.

This was the text of the simple poem that followed:

Star of David on Galilee
Jesus walked on this very sea
He called to Peter, step out and believe
Our eyes on Him and we receive.
He calls us now through Holy Spirit
For those with hearts and ears to hear it.
God Almighty, Creator of all
No prayer too big, no prayer too small.
So step out of your boat, you're not alone
Your miracle awaits, sent from the throne.*

Geraldine didn’t know that the story of Peter walking on the water with Jesus was special to me. But God knew. He had used this very story to lead me to accept the very position I had taken at work. Geraldine had no idea that a week later I would need confirmation that the Lord was still with me in the midst of a storm. But God knew.

It was as if He had sent this photograph into the future for me to find at the exact moment I needed it.

He knew I would recognize His voice speaking through this little poem, reminding me that HE was the One who called me out upon the water, that great unknown where feet may fail. (He had also used these very lyrics, from the song “Oceans,” to confirm His call when I took the job.) He knew I would see Him in this beautiful photograph of the very waters upon which Peter walked, and the shores upon which I had stood.

The truth is, I had actually begun to enjoy being out on the water with Jesus, preferring my exhilarating adventures with Him to the safe confines of the boat. Until like Peter, I took my eyes off of Him and placed them on myself–my inabilities, my inadequacies–and on the cresting waves around me. Next thing you know I’m panicking, thrashing, and coughing up sea water.

He came for me that morning in a poem and a photograph, and pulled me close, dripping and sputtering. He gently informed me that it was never about me. He pointed out that the storm didn’t actually stop until He and Peter returned to the boat.** And He patiently instructed me that He alone will determine when our walk on the water is over and it’s time to step back into the boat.

Who is this, that even the winds and waves obey Him? Who exists outside of time, sees our future needs and makes preparation for them? Who defies the laws of nature, walks on water and invites us to do the same? Who comes to our merciful rescue when we forget that apart from Him we can do nothing?

Jesus.

Amazing Jesus.

For Reflection: Where are you in your journey with Jesus? In the boat? Out on the water? Going under? Wherever you find yourself today, He is there too. He knows exactly what you need. Just “step out and believe.”

Watch this video of “Oceans,” filmed on the Sea of Galilee, and be encouraged!

*Photo and poem by Anthony R. Torres, Hand of God Photography.

**See Matthew 14:22-33 for the account of Peter walking on the water.

Cleaning House

Cleaning House

Posted on by Shelley

The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. And He found in the temple those who were selling oxen and sheep and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. And He made a scourge of cords, and drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and the oxen; and He poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables; and to those who were selling the doves He said, “Take these things away; stop making My Father’s house a place of business.” His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for Your house will consume me.” (John 2:13-17, NAS)

Jesus was at home in the temple, teaching, healing, worshiping. A Son, in His Father’s house, going about His Father’s business.

But on this day? It was time for a little housecleaning.

The outer court of the temple was more like a bustling marketplace than a peaceful sanctuary. Tables had been set up for the convenience of visitors who needed to exchange money or purchase a sacrificial animal before proceeding to the inner courts of the temple. Upon entering the courtyard, one’s senses would have been assaulted with the sights, sounds, and smells of this carnival-like atmosphere. Regular temple worshipers had probably become somewhat desensitized, accepting the scene as normal.

Not Jesus. He had had enough of this bizarre bazaar. Fashioning a whip, he drove the sellers and money changers out in a rare display of angry passion.

Zeal for His Father’s house, we’re later told by His disciples, had simply overcome Him.

That temple is long gone, reduced to Roman rubble in 70 A.D. But now there is a new temple. One erected in every heart where Jesus dwells.

Do you not know that you are a temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? (1 Corinthians 3:16, NAS)

And just like the days of old, “money changers” come and set up their tables in the temple courtyards of our hearts. Some have occupied space there for years. The Bible calls them “strongholds.”

The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. (2 Corinthians 10:4-5, NIV) 

A stronghold can take many forms. It could be a persistent sin, struggle, or addiction. It’s something that “sets itself up” in our lives to keep us from intimacy with God. It is anything that consistently robs us of what is rightfully ours.

Strongholds were never meant to be tolerated. Yet we grow accustomed to their presence and accepting of their chaos. We even start to “own” them, personalizing them…my anxiety, my insecurity, my anger. Strongholds are thieves masquerading as friends.

I allowed a long-standing stronghold of Fear to set up camp in my heart. It was a familiar presence, one I had learned to put up with and had begun to call my own. But according to 2 Corinthians 10:4, strongholds are meant to be demolished. Destroyed.

Thankfully, Jesus is on the scene. And He is still passionate about His Father’s house. He possesses the power to clear the temple courts with a whip and a word.

That word is our weapon.

“Is not my word like fire,” declares the Lord, “and like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces?” (Jeremiah 23:29, NIV)

For the word of God is alive and powerful. It is sharper than the sharpest two-edged sword… (Hebrews 4:12a, NLT)

His word is the gleaming sword that pierces, the swinging hammer that crushes, and the raging fire that can consume all of our strongholds.

Regarding “my” stronghold of fear, He placed this particular weapon from His word in my trembling hand:

Perfect love drives out fear. (1 John 4:18, NIV)

His word IS alive. And amazing. I doubt it’s coincidence that the Greek word for “drives out” in 1 John 4:18 is the same root used in John 2:15, when Jesus “drove out” the money changers.

I decided that Fear had littered my temple ground long enough. Perfect Love swept in and swept it away.

Does this mean I’ll never battle with fears again? No. But when I do, I’ll take them captive, rather than the other way around. (See 2 Corinthians 10:5.)

What strongholds have staked a claim in your life? Are you tired of paying their exorbitant fees? Do you long for peace in the sacred spaces of your heart?

Jesus is here. He is ready to clean house, overturn some tables, and drive the money changers out.

Just say the word. Then take Him at His word.

He is zealous for you, lovely temple of His Holy Spirit.

“My house shall be called a house of prayer…” Jesus (From Matthew 21:13) 

Images and Imaginings

Images and Imaginings

Posted on by Shelley

Cruz Ultrasound ii

I have become an ultrasound nerd.

I realized this last week when some friends announced their pregnancy on Facebook by posting this early ultrasound picture. Yep, there’s the yolk sac, I thought to myself. I was actually kind of obsessed with it.

Official nerd status = confirmed.

At the local pregnancy center where I work we provide free ultrasounds to help determine a viable pregnancy or estimate the gestational age. As the Client Advocate, one of my responsibilities/ privileges is to chaperon these ultrasounds. It never gets old, peering through this window into God’s workshop, the womb.

With the advent of modern ultrasound technology, we’ve been granted unprecedented access to the heretofore hidden world of the unborn. As early as four weeks post-conception, we can visualize and measure a miniature beating heart! And I’ll never forget the time I witnessed a tiny six-week-old embryo move. MOVE. I had no idea.

But as amazing as this technology is, it has its limitations. Sometimes the image is fuzzy and undefined. Our eyes strain to identify the structures on the screen, in varying shades of gray. It’s an inexact science, an imperfect medium.

Much like our Christian life. Jesus has come and opened our eyes to an unseen spiritual realm we never knew existed. We now have some understanding of His activity. We get glimpses of His glory. But they are limited and incomplete. Like hazy pewter images pixelating on a distant screen.

The apostle Paul, despite the glorious revelations he received,* experienced this obscurity in his own spiritual journey. Listen to how he described the struggle in these different translations of 1 Corinthians 13:12:

…we see only an indistinct image in a mirror…what I know is incomplete…(ISV)

…we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror..all that I know now is partial and incomplete…(NLT)

We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. (MSG)

Life on this side of heaven is like that. We strain to bring focus to our spiritual vision. We long for a clear and unobstructed view.

This past month, two clients graciously returned to our center to introduce us to their newborn babies. I had “met” these babies on the ultrasound screen some months ago, as they waved and kicked in grainy gray. But to see the color and definition of their perfect features, and to feel their warm bodies breathing on my chest was to know them in another realm entirely.

A day is coming when we will see Jesus face to face. Now we trace His image in black and white on the pages of His Word; some day we will touch the Living Word Himself. Now we “squint in a fog”; soon we will behold the Son in vibrant color, in all of His radiant glory. Now we sense His Spirit moving mysteriously in our midst; then we will feel the very breath of God on our faces as we melt into His enveloping embrace.

YES.

In 1 Corinthians 13:12, Paul also shared the certainty of this hope:

Now we see only an indistinct image in a mirror, but then we will be face to face. Now what I know is incomplete, but then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. (ISV)

Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely. (NLT)

We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us! (MSG)

One day our faith will be made sight. The mist will clear and clarity will reign. This earthly womb we call “home” will give birth to a heavenly reality so beautiful we cannot even conceive of it.

That is what the Scriptures mean when they say, “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.” (I Corinthians 2:9, NLT)

So squint if you must. Imagine if you can. But hope always.

And remember, anything good in this life is just a faint echo, an imperfect image of unimaginably wonderful things to come.

*See 2 Corinthians 12:1-10 for more of Paul’s story.

**This song by Hillsong Worship, “Transfiguration,” has resonated with me lately along these lines:

An Act of Christmas Kindness

An Act of Christmas Kindness

Posted on by Shelley

Kindness star

I knew my favorite little post office closed at 1pm. I also knew I wouldn’t make it in time when I left the house a few minutes before 1pm on Tuesday.  But I piled the gifts I had wrapped and boxed up that morning in the back seat of the car and, hoping against hope, drove there anyway. The desire to avoid the long lines at the other two, more popular post office locations fed my denial.

Sure enough, when I climbed the wooden stairs of the historic building that houses the post office, juggled my packages and jiggled the door knob, it was locked. Of course it was locked. It was now ten after one.

I trudged back down the stairs, accepting the sad reality that I would spend the next hour or two of my life in a slow-moving queue with all of the other holiday procrastinators. When out from the post office there arose such a clatter, I swiveled my head to see what was the matter. (Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite that dramatic.) But there in the window was the postman, rapping on the glass, motioning me to return. Had I just awakened from a long winter’s nap? Or was I dreaming?

My New Favorite Postal Worker unlocked the door and invited me in. He then proceeded to weigh my parcels, efficiently calculating the cheapest way to get them to their intended destinations on time. I kept apologizing for my tardiness and thanking him for his kindness. Less than ten minutes later, I was sailing out the door, mission accomplished.

“Thank you for making my life easier today,” were my parting words to him as I headed down the stairs for the second time that afternoon. Only this time my hands were free. My step, lighter. My heart, warmed.

It was an unexpected act of Christmas kindness.

In the process of mailing my gifts, I was given gifts:  He gave me back an hour (or two or three) of my time. He helped alleviate my stress. He lifted my burdens, literally and figuratively.

He didn’t have to do it. The post office was closed. But he did it anyway.

He reminded me of Someone Else who orchestrated the Ultimate Act of Christmas Kindness many years ago. This act of kindness was anything but random. It had been planned for centuries. And the time to unveil it had finally arrived.

…when the kindness of God our Savior and His love for mankind appeared… (Titus 3:4a, NAS)

I picture God a bit like the postman in the window, rapping to get our attention. Seeking us out and beckoning us to come in. Unlocking heaven’s door. Humbly and graciously serving us, though we had done nothing to deserve such kindness.

He did it anyway.

He is so rich in kindness and grace that he purchased our freedom with the blood of his Son and forgave our sins. (Ephesians 1:7, NLT)

Yes, Jesus came to bear the weight of our sin, to shoulder the burden of our salvation. When we come to Him, we too receive unexpected gifts:  Redemption. Peace. Joy. Freedom. Forgiveness. Grace.  And that’s just the start.

We leave His presence warmed. Light in spirit, full in heart.

This Christmas, if you hear Him knocking, might I urge you to turn around? Accept His invitation. Let Jesus escort you home and help you with that heavy load you’ve been carrying. He is more than capable.

And ever so kind.

Now God has us where he wants us, with all the time in this world and the next to shower grace and kindness upon us in Christ Jesus. (Ephesians 2:7, The Message)

Come, let us adore Him.

Not-So Special Delivery

Not-So Special Delivery

Posted on by Shelley

Early Tuesday morning I opened the front door to be greeted by a small pile of this, right smack dab in the middle of my “Welcome” mat:

Poop emoji

Only it wasn’t smiling. And neither was I.

(And in case you’re wondering, this is NOT the soft-serve chocolate ice cream emoji.)

Talk about a rude awakening.

I have no idea what deposited this lovely gift on my front porch.

But I’m pretty sure I know who was behind it.

You see, it was a statement.

From the enemy.

Let me explain.

For the past six weeks or so, I’ve been leading a Bible study on Thursday nights with a wonderful group of gals. The topic? “Women Encountering Jesus.” We’ve eavesdropped on a conversation at a Samaritan well, witnessed the mock trial of an adulterous woman and looked on, wide-eyed, at a sinner’s public display of affection at a dinner party.*

We’ve fallen more deeply in love with the Man who met each one with matchless mercy.

The last few passages we’ve studied, however, have involved Jesus demonstrating His power over forces in the spiritual realm. We’ve sympathized with the desperate mother begging for relief for her demon-possessed daughter, and cheered as a dear crippled woman was released from bondage after nearly two decades of demonic oppression.

We’ve been awed by this One who exercised unparalleled authority over it all.

Over the years I have gained some firsthand knowledge of spiritual battle. (So have you, no doubt, if you’ve walked with the Lord for any length of time.) I’ve learned to identify the enemy’s activity and recognize his calling card. I fully expected to meet with resistance as we tackled the subject of Satan and his partners in crime. So frankly I was a little surprised when all remained quiet on the western front.

And then the Special Delivery showed up on my doorstep.

Along with a “note,” signed by the accuser himself.

I’m out here, prowling around, just waiting for an opportunity.

(I should also mention that my husband had just left town. Coincidence? I think not.)

But GOD also had a message for me.

This is as close as the enemy can get to a believer in Christ. He cannot cross the threshold. His garbage must stay outside and he knows it. Nothing can touch you unless I say so.

Wow.

It was quite the visual.

Yes, the lion still prowls and threatens.

We see his tracks and evidence of his presence.

I’ll admit I was a bit rattled by his public display of “affection.”

But

I. Refuse. To. Be. Intimidated.

Because the Lion of Judah guards my life.

And greater is He who is in me than he who is in the world!

Hallelujah!

Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. (1 Peter 5:8, NIV)
 
Look, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the heir to David’s throne, has won the victory. (Revelation 5:5b, NLT)
 
He who was born of God keeps him, and the evil one does not touch him.
(1 John 5:18b, NAS)
 
You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world. (1 John 4:4, NIV)

 

*See previous blog post for more on the story of “The Sinful Woman.”

 

To Love Him

To Love Him

Posted on by Shelley

I’ll be honest. There are some passages in the Bible that I’ve never really liked. Luke 7:36-50 is one of them. Guess what last night’s Bible study was on?

You guessed it.

In case you’re not familiar with Luke 7:36-50, it’s the story of a woman-with-a-less-than-stellar-reputation who very passionately anointed Jesus. She was a “sinner.” A prostitute.

It’s also the story of a man-with-an-impressive-spiritual-resume who very passively stood by. He was a “saint.” A Pharisee.

One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to have dinner with him, so Jesus went to his home and sat down to eat. When a certain immoral woman from that city heard he was eating there, she brought a beautiful alabaster jar filled with expensive perfume. Then she knelt behind him at his feet, weeping. Her tears fell on his feet, and she wiped them off with her hair. Then she kept kissing his feet and putting perfume on them. (Luke 7:36-38*)

Luke 7

If I had been one of the dinner guests around the table that evening, I no doubt would have squirmed in my chair and looked away, cringing. What she does is awkward. Embarrassing. Inappropriate.

Simon, the host of the dinner, was also displeased with this uninvited guest, the party crasher. Jesus told him a story:

“A man loaned money to two people—500 pieces of silver to one and 50 pieces to the other. But neither of them could repay him, so he kindly forgave them both, canceling their debts. Who do you suppose loved him more after that?”
Simon answered, “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the larger debt.”
“That’s right,” Jesus said. (Luke 7:41b-43)

Here’s the point:

“Some sinners are greater debtors; but whether our debt be more or less, it is more than we are able to pay.” (Matthew Henry)

Let that sink in.

Now imagine Simon’s surprise when Jesus goes on to commend her and correct him:

“Look at this woman kneeling here. When I entered your home, you didn’t offer me water to wash the dust from my feet, but she has washed them with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You didn’t greet me with a kiss, but from the time I first came in, she has not stopped kissing my feet. You neglected the courtesy of olive oil to anoint my head, but she has anointed my feet with rare perfume. (Luke 7:44b-46)

This gal got it. She understood that Jesus was a very special Guest of Honor. Worthy of honor. The ultimate V.I.P. Suddenly she had my respect.  Her actions were actually the more appropriate response. Because The Lord of Hosts was in the house!

“Who can forgive sins but God only, and in Simon’s house God was present in the person of His Son.” (All the Women of the Bible)

She alone fell at His feet and worshiped Him.

Jesus continues:

“I tell you, her sins—and they are many—have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love.” (Luke 7:47-48)

This is the place in the passage where I’d always get hung up. My problem was that I identify more with the “good” Pharisee than with the “bad” woman. It’s always seemed unfair to me that the one who had sinned more got to love more.

But really, aren’t we all “the woman” in the story? We’ve each been forgiven much. So much more than we’ll ever know. The woman shows us the only proper response, as she gives Jesus the one thing He’s really after:  OUR LOVE.

“The woman was, at least in Simon’s mind, a greater sinner. The woman was, as Jesus pointed out, the greater lover as well.” (Bob Deffinbaugh)

Then Jesus said to the woman, “Your sins are forgiven.”
The men at the table said among themselves, “Who is this man, that he goes around forgiving sins?”
And Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” (Luke 7:48-50)

Isn’t it interesting, that:

“Of all those who went to the dinner, only this woman is said to have left forgiven”? (Bob Deffinbaugh)

At the end of the day, isn’t that all that really matters? The question is not “What have you done?” but “What has Jesus done for you?” The issue is not where you’ve been, but where He wants to take you. I imagine her life radically changed that day, and that many other lives were changed through her testimony.

My grandfather, at nearly 70 years of age, came to know Christ through a former prostitute. He had been invited to hear her story at a church service one evening. As she spoke, he realized, “If God can forgive her, then he can forgive me.”  He lived another decade, a forgiven, changed man. I loved him and his story.

I now love the woman of Luke 7 and her story, too.

But most of all, I love “this man (who) goes around forgiving sins.” (Luke 7:49)

To know Him – to be forgiven by Him – is to love Him.

*All Scriptures are from the New Living Translation of the Bible.

(Quotes from Bob Deffinbaugh are excerpted from an article called “Wordless Worship of an Unnamed Woman” at www.bible.org.)

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