The Star in Our Faults
Wretched man that I am! Who will set me free from the body of this death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! (Romans 7:24-25, NIV)
Category: Jesus
Into the Storm
There’s a new tornado disaster movie in theaters called “Into the Storm.” I’m not sure I want to go see it. I’m still recovering from my own brief, but traumatizing tornado “encounter.” No pun intended, but here’s how it went down…
I was out shopping on a Sunday afternoon last month when, for the second time this summer, my cell phone vibrated with this ominous message:
“Emergency Alert. Tornado Warning in this area til 2:00 PM MDT. Take shelter now.”
Yikes.
I hastily abandoned my cart with its contents and hurried to a neighboring store to collect Laurel and her two friends. Outside in the parking lot, we scanned the horizon in search of a funnel cloud. Seeing nothing but dark clouds and gray skies, I decided to make a run for home, reasoning that our full basement was a safer location than a one-story strip mall.
I was fairly confident I could make it there in time.
Within moments I was fairly confident I was wrong.
Warning sirens began blaring as our van rounded the back of the building. The girls continued to monitor the clouds through the back seat windows. The wind picked up. Rain, mixed with hail, started to pelt. My pounding heart echoed the staccato sound.
Soon we were engulfed in Gray. For all I knew we were driving straight into the tornado. And believe me when I say I’m no storm chaser.
At this point I instructed Laurel to call home to see if we could get some idea of where the funnel cloud had been spotted and which direction it was moving. Emily answered and informed us that “it” was “by the church.” “We” were several blocks directly east of the church.
Gulp.
This was beginning to get real.
My heart now kept time with the windshield wipers set to their highest speed. I pressed harder on the accelerator, my leg trembling involuntarily as we sped north towards the house. At times visibility became so poor I feared I would drive right off the road. Seeing no other cars around, it seemed that everyone had gotten the memo about the tornado’s location but me.
I began to pray. Nonstop. Out loud. I’m not sure if my prayers were a welcome comfort to my three wide-eyed passengers, or an unsettling sign that a meeting with our Maker was imminent. (I’m guessing the latter.)
Seconds felt like minutes felt like hours. I just kept driving (read: speeding). And praying (read: crying out to my Maker).
We finally skidded around the corner onto the dirt road that leads up the steep hill to our home. I scaled that hill in record time, fishtailing as I floored it down (read: up) the homestretch. We lurched to a stop in our driveway, flung open the car doors and bolted through the heavy rain into the house. We were breathless and drenched.
But we were safe.
We later learned that a tornado did touch down east of town not long after our crazy storm chase. Emily had witnessed some scary looking cloud rotation in the church parking lot. It was all part of the same strong storm system that cut diagonally across the city that afternoon. But as far as we know there never was an actual funnel cloud bearing down on us, despite how frighteningly real it felt at the time.
After the fact, a friend jokingly remarked that those moments of sheer terror were a great time to make sure one was “good with God.”
“Oh, I’m good,” I replied without hesitation.
You see, that’s the thing. A tornado could have swept us up and into eternity that afternoon. All of our days are numbered. As Christian author and teacher Beth Moore once said:
“You gotta get home somehow.” *
Be it via tornado or illness or accident. One day we will depart from this place we now call home.
It is vital to know that we are “good with God.”
I am. I don’t base my confidence upon my own performance, but upon the perfection of the One I call Savior. I love how Tullian Tchividjian put this in his excellent book One Way Love:
In other words, the older I get, the more smitten I become by the fact that God’s love for me, His approval and commitment to me, does not ride on my transformation but on Jesus’ substitution. Jesus is infallibly devoted to us in spite of our inconsistent devotion to him. The Gospel is not a command to hang on to Jesus. It’s a promise that no matter how weak your faith and how unsuccessful your efforts may be, God is always holding on to you.”
Amen.
If you have placed your trust in Jesus, then as far as He’s concerned, you’re good with Him. Not because you are good or even just good enough. But because HE was!
Storms will come. They are unpredictable, unavoidable, and inevitable.
In those moments of fear and uncertainty, you can be completely sure of this:
He is with you.
He will hold on to you.
He will deliver you safely Home.
“And this is the will of him who sent me, that I shall lose none of all those he has given me, but raise them up at the last day. For my Father’s will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day.” –Jesus (John 6:39-40, NIV)
*From her teaching on Daniel 3.
Let the Parents Come Unto Me
Jesus loves the little children.
And the big kids.
And their moms and dads.
I recently read a familiar passage in the Bible, the one in Mark 10 where Jesus says, “Let the little children come to Me.” Only this time I approached it from the perspective of a parent. I was greatly encouraged by this glimpse into God’s heart for children AND their parents. (I pray you will be too.)
One day some parents brought their children to Jesus so he could touch and bless them. (Mark 10:13, NLT)
Parenting is rewarding, challenging and humbling. As a mother of three, I am constantly reminded of my need for divine assistance. I’ve spent a good portion of the last two decades on my knees in prayer, “bringing my children to Jesus.” My deepest desire, like those parents of old, is that each of my children would receive a life-changing touch from Him. I come to Him because I believe He is the only source of true blessing.
But the disciples scolded the parents for bothering him. (Mark 10:14a, NLT)
Unlike the disciples, Jesus never gets tired of parents who approach Him on behalf of their children. He is not irritated by our persistence. He never scolds or turns us away. We are not bothering Him.
Everyone knows it’s not wise to get between a mama bear and her cubs. Well, apparently it’s also not a good idea to get between the Lord and a God-fearing parent. The well-meaning, but misguided disciples learned this the hard way…
When Jesus saw what was happening, he was angry with his disciples. (Mark 10:14b, NLT)
Jesus was ticked. (My paraphrase.) This is one of the few instances in the Gospels where we are plainly told that Jesus was angry. The Greek word for “angry” is aganakteo, which means “to be indignant, moved with indignation, be very displeased.”* The scolders got their own little scolding.
I love the fact that Jesus is passionate about our kids, that He is moved by our requests. I am touched that He has an emotional reaction to anyone or anything that tries to come between Him and them. And us.
(He) saw what was happening. (Mark 10:14a, NLT)
Jesus was fully aware of what was going on. He saw the obstacles impeding their intimacy with Him, just as He sees them now. He is never oblivious to our situation.
And He does something about it.
Then he took the children in his arms and placed his hands on their heads and blessed them. (Mark 10:16, NLT)
When our daughters were each a few months old, we dedicated them to the Lord in a simple, but meaningful church ceremony. We promised to “bring them to Jesus” and teach them His ways. Our pastor laid his hands on them and blessed them. Two of those babies are now all grown up. Their younger sister is not far behind.
The same Jesus who heard our prayers then, hears our prayers now. They remain His children, just as they will always remain ours. He still longs to hold them. Bless them. Be close to them.
No matter how old they are.
Regardless of what blocks their path.
Dear parent, God knows it’s tough sometimes. It’s trying and tiring. Just keep trusting, praying and bringing them to Jesus. He’ll clear the way.
You may be their parent, but you are also His child.
Let Him hold and bless you too.
*From The NAS New Testament Greek Lexicon
Free for the Taking
Last night I chaperoned my first (and, Lord willing, last) junior high promotion dance. Seeing as how I’m not a huge fan of junior high dances, and seeing as how misery loves company, I roped my good friend Julie into joining me in the Concessions Booth for the three-hour duration of the dance. (Julie is not only a good friend–she’s a good sport. She’s even still talking to me today.)
It turned out to be quite the entertaining evening! While minding the cookies and cotton candy, we were treated to a bonus fashion show featuring a variety of hemlines (Hello, high-low!) and hues (Mint green and coral were both well represented). Our booth was strategically located near the girls’ bathroom, so we also witnessed our fair share of wardrobe malfunctions and tears. Every now and then we’d sneak into the gym to spy. It was just how I remembered it from my own junior high days–awkward slow dances, wallflowers, and all.
I was reminded of all the reasons one’s promotion to high school is indeed cause for celebration.
The most memorable moments for me, however, came whenever a group of kids would approach the Concessions Booth to inquire about the cost of a particular food item.
“It’s FREE,” we’d reply.
Their reactions were priceless. All seemed surprised. Some doubted. A few hesitated.
“Help yourselves,” we’d encourage.
Most would then eagerly grab a bottle of water and a candy bar (or two or ten) and return with their entourage to the gym, scattered sequins sparkling in their wake.
I enjoyed being the bearer of the good news that, thanks to some generous donors, it was all free for the taking. It was fun seeing the looks on their faces as they absorbed the fact that they really could help themselves to whatever they wanted, without charge.
The spiritual parallel was not lost on me.
Because Salvation is not For Sale.
It cannot be purchased with good works. It cannot be obtained through church affiliation. It cannot be earned by living a good life.
It’s FREE. A gift.
For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 6:23, NLT)
Thanks to God’s generous heart and Jesus’ perfect life, eternal life is ours for the taking. It’s not just about Heaven. It’s about a simple, honest, real relationship with Jesus. Right here, right now.
Surprised? Hesitating? Wondering what the catch might be?
Yes, it IS free. But it may also “cost” you…your pride, your popularity, your plans. You must humble yourself. Surrender yourself.
HE’s worth it.
I think life without Jesus is a bit like a junior high dance–big on glitz and drama, small on meaning and substance. Isn’t it time we graduated to something better?
If you haven’t yet received the free gift He is offering you, might I encourage you to do so? I’m delighted to be the bearer of this Good News:
“It’s Free! Help yourselves!”
Just reach out and take it.
Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God… (John 1:12, NIV)
(Photo Credit: Rugged Grace Photography)
A Mary Christmas
As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:38-42, NIV)
Just call me “Martha.”
I want to be “Mary.” Really, I do.
But despite my best intentions, each Christmas season inevitably finds me distracted with all my preparations, spending less and less time with Jesus. This year has been no different.
A late Thanksgiving and an extra full social calendar this past month only made matters worse. I’d snatch a few moments of prayer in the car as I drove from one activity to the other. I’d quickly skim my devotional book before turning out the light at night. But I had yet to slow down long enough to really worship the One whose name this season bears.
Until today.
I had planned to skip church. The Broncos were playing early. The service would be identical on Christmas Eve, so I wouldn’t really “miss” anything, I reasoned. But as I scrolled down my Facebook newsfeed around 10:15 this morning, still in my pajamas, I came across this post:
“The first day of winter – a good day to worship the Most High God!”
And then a few posts later, this:
Suddenly I felt drawn, compelled to drop everything and go worship. I hurriedly dressed for the 11am service and headed out the door alone. I didn’t care what the rest of the family, or the rest of the world, for that matter, was doing.
I would worship Him.
And I did. Hand raised. Eyes closed. Unaware of those around me.
I sat at the feet of Jesus. My ears listening to His words. My heart connecting with His.
It was a good – no, the best – place to be. It didn’t have to be in church. Worship can happen anywhere, whenever our hearts are centered on Him. Even in the midst of all of our preparations.
So. This is for all the “Marthas.”
Remember…
It’s never too late to have a “Mary” Christmas!
A few notes:
- I first heard Bob Horner share the phrase “Mary Christmas” when he taught on this passage at a Crusade staff meeting years ago. I’ve never forgotten it. I just forget to practice it!
- Thank you to my Facebook friends Anastasia and Kevin/Darcy for your timely posts!
- The above painting is called “Christ in the House of Martha and Mary” by Henryk Siemiradzki.
The Gospel According to Beau
We kept hoping he’d figure it out. Sleep on this side of the Pack ‘n Play. Poop on the other side. It was so simple even a puppy could understand it. But after seven long weeks of hoping (along with almost daily baths!) we finally had to admit that it just wasn’t working. It was time to try something new.
So we put away the Pack ‘n Play and invited this untrained puppy into…our bedroom.
It felt foolish. Risky. Counterintuitive. He certainly hadn’t earned the privilege or proven himself trustworthy. But desperate times call for desperate measures. So we did it anyway.
We scattered a few puppy pads around the room, praying that he would choose them over the carpet. We made him a little bed next to ours and held our breath as he curled up, without whining, in a contented ball. He slept peacefully, happy just to be near us.
I slept, fitfully, fearfully. The next morning I cautiously peered over the side of the bed, dreading what I might find. But lo and behold, he was clean and dry! And so was the carpet! We jokingly called it our Christmas Miracle. In fact, he’s now gone an entire week with nary an accident or a bath!
It’s AMAZING.
Yet isn’t this how Grace works?
We, too, couldn’t help ourselves. Try as we might we just couldn’t stay clean. Then, one day, the Father lifted us out of the confines of the Law, which we had been unable to keep, and set it aside. It was time for something new. Jesus came, took our filth in exchange for His righteousness, and escorted us right into the very throne room of God.
We did not deserve such kindness. We had not earned this trust. Yet it was given to us anyway.
Grace. AMAZING.
“Sin is no longer your master, for you no longer live under the requirements of the law. Instead, you live under the freedom of God’s grace.” (Romans 6:14, NLT)
When we gave Beau the run of our room, we weren’t sure how he would handle his newfound freedom. We knew he could abuse it. That’s the risk grace takes. But being in our presence calmed and settled him. It changed him.
“Well then, should we keep on sinning so that God can show us more and more of his wonderful grace? Of course not! Since we have died to sin, how can we continue to live in it?” (Romans 6:1-2, NLT)
Grace changes us, too. When we experience the thrill of being in God’s gracious, holy presence, sin loses its pull. His law is now written on our hearts. (See Hebrews 8:10.) We want to please Him.
We don’t do it perfectly. Accidents still happen. But our hearts are inclined in a new direction: to stay near this One who has showered us with such extravagant grace.
As I lifted Beau onto my pillow for a snuggle the morning of The Miracle, a tear slipped down my cheek. If I could love a helpless, ignorant puppy through this messy process, how much more must God love me? If being brought near to us could change him, how might nestling even closer to God’s heart change me?
“So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.” (Hebrews 4:16, NLT)
Friends
On two consecutive days this past week I enjoyed visits with two different friends. (Actually, three. It was a good week. But to simplify I’ll just talk about two.)
One friend is “old,” not in age, but in duration–we’ve been friends for over two decades. (Although the longer we are friends, the more both meanings of the word “old” apply!) We lived in the same town for a little over two years. Our mutual love for the Lord is the glue that holds us together despite time and distance.
The second friend is “new.” We’ve known each other for about two years. She lives nearby, and is a couple decades younger. We also share a special bond in the Lord, which makes the age difference seem irrelevant.
And I need them both.
“Old” friends ground us. When I’m with them I look back. I remember who I was, who I still am. We’re a part of each other’s history. We know each other’s stories. Conversation flows effortlessly, punctuated with laughter. (Or “cackling,” as this particular friend’s husband unwisely called it.)
“New” friends inspire us. When I’m with them I look forward. I see who I can be. We’re a part of each other’s present lives. We know each other’s struggles. Conversation runs deep, peppered with “aha” moments.
“A friend loveth at all times.” (Proverbs 17:17, KJV)
Tiny, forest green ‘x’s spell out this verse in a cross stitch which hangs in my hallway. It was lovingly created for me by another “old” friend. It serves as a reminder of those special friends “who have been long tried and proved, and found faithful,” and that “…these should be kept to and valued…” (John Gill)
Reflecting on the benefits of newer friendships, this verse comes to mind:
“Better is a neighbor who is near than a brother far away.” (Proverbs 27:10b, NAS)
Because sometimes you just need to sit face to face with someone who can be “Jesus with skin on.” Someone who will listen as you pour out your soul over a cup of coffee (or, in my case, tea). Someone you can text at 3:30am to share one of those “aha” moments. (Yes, she did.) Because “…a neighbour that is a fast and faithful friend, and who is not only near as to place but as to affections is more serviceable and, useful to a man in time of distress…” (Gill)
So we need them both.
Old friends, who fit us like a pair of well-worn jeans; familiar and comfortable.
New friends, who lift our spirits like a cute, new outfit; fresh and promising.
Both are gracious gifts from God, given to remind us that:
“…there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” (Proverbs 18:24b, NAS)
For don’t we need His friendship most of all?
In Him we find the best of both friends; perfect and timeless.
Lord, thank You for friends near and far, old and new. You give such good gifts. Thank You for being “(The) Friend who sticks closer than a brother (or a sister!).” YOU are the very best gift!
(Quotes are taken from Gill’s Exposition of The Entire Bible.)
Thieves
Emily’s iphone was stolen Monday night. She thought it would be safe in her coat pocket in the break room at work. She was wrong.
A few months ago at church she also thought her purse would be safe on the seat next to her during worship. Wrong again.
Both of these incidents had relatively happy endings. Her purse was discovered in the women’s bathroom, mostly intact. Her iphone was recovered within a few hours, thanks to a diligent police officer and amazing modern technology. (Thieves, beware of a handy little iphone app which signals a lost phone’s exact location!)
The loss of trust, however, is harder to regain. A sense of personal well being and security is more difficult to recoup. A thief steals more than mere personal belongings.
A few weeks ago my sister sent me a text message with this question: What is your favorite Bible verse? I’ve never really designated one particular verse as my all-time favorite. But Jesus’ words in John 10:10 were the first thing to pop into my mind:
“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (NAS)
It seemed like a strange response at the time. Not the kind of verse you’d necessarily want stencilled over your fireplace or cross stitched in a frame. References to theft, murder and destruction aren’t exactly family room friendly.
Yet aren’t these the very themes that have been playing out on television screens in family rooms all across the country lately? One needn’t look far to find abundant evidence of this “thief’s” activity. Satan’s fingerprints are all over recent events, from the tragic suicide of a well-known pastor’s son, to the drama and devastation on Boston’s bloodstained sidewalks, to the massive fireball which left a Texas community reeling and mourning.
“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy…”
Should we be surprised? It’s his job description, after all. The NAS New Testament Greek Lexicon defines destroy as “to render useless.” If he can’t murder his victims outright, he will attempt to rob them of joy, hope and purpose. He seeks to paralyze, defeat, and make us ineffective.
“I came that they might have life…”
Into this dark reality…Jesus came. His assignment? To bring LIFE.
He once claimed Isaiah 61 as His job description.* Verses 3-5 contain phrases such as these:
“…to bestow … beauty instead of ashes … joy instead of mourning … praise instead of a spirit of despair …”
“…to rebuild … restore … renew … (what has been) … devastated …” (NIV)
This is why He came. To unravel the work of the enemy. To return what the thief has stolen. To take tragedy and somehow fashion something beautiful out of it. I don’t know how He does it.
It takes time. Often a long time. Maybe even a lifetime.
But He can and will do it. It’s what He’s all about.
And that is why I’m holding on to Him, and to John 10:10, a little more tightly these days.
*See Luke 4:16-21.
What Kind of Love
They deserted Him when He needed them the most. One betrayed Him with a kiss. Another denied three times that he even knew Him.
(And these were His friends.)
But, He loved them to the end. (John 13:1b, NIV)
What kind of love is this?
They arrested Him on trumped up charges. Mocked and mistreated Him. Sentenced Him to an excruciating death.
He prayed for them.
(And these were His enemies.)
“Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34a, NIV)
What kind of love is this?
I’m not that different from either one. I fail Him when I bow my head in slumber instead of prayer. I deny Him when I let fear of what others might think silence my voice. I mock Him when I pay mere lip service to His commands. I crucify Him all over again when I yield to the flesh instead of to the Spirit.
(And I claim to be His follower.)
Yet, He assures me that …where sin increased, grace abounded all the more. (Romans 5:20b, NASB)
What kind of love is this?
“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8, NLT)
Amazing love!
How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
*Lyrics are from “And Can It Be, That I Should Gain?” by Charles Wesley, published in 1738.
A Familiar Carol
I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.*
This was the song I replayed most often on my “Mercy Me” Christmas album as I drove around town this past week. (Unless, of course, my 12-year-old daughter was with me, in which case we were “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree.”) It was a familiar carol. But I seemed to hear the lyrics in a new way this year.
And in despair I bowed my head:
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”
Something about this particular verse really resonated with me. And that was before the terrible events unfolded yesterday at a Connecticut elementary school, interrupting Christmas preparations and shattering a quiet community’s peace. I can’t stop thinking about the parents whose children’s beds lay empty last night.
It is easy to despair.
Christmas carols seem jarringly out of place in the face of such grief and devastation. Hate is strong and mocks these songs. Peace on earth? Good will to men?
Where are you, God?
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men.”
At times like this we need the message of Christmas more than ever.
God is very much alive. He sees. He knows. He cares.
Jesus came to bring us peace with God, with others, with ourselves.
He is our only Hope.
And the babe that once lay helpless in a manger will return, with fire in His eyes and judgment in His hand.
He will fix this broken world. He will right all that is wrong. He will triumph over evil.
Come, Lord Jesus, come.
Newtown, our nation, and our world need You this Christmas.
*Lyrics from “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1867.