Friday, July 26, 2013

When You Walk Through the Fire...

"I will be with you..."
Isaiah 43:2
 
 
 
Where does one find the courage to enter the blazing furnace of fire in our lives, screaming at us and taunting us with the threat that we will surely be obliterated by the flames? 

When I read this passage from the Word of God, taken from the Book of the Prophet, Isaiah, I am overwhelmed with the promise of our God.  He says not to even fear, for He is in the fire with us.  We will not even be burned.  There will not even be the smell of the furnace when we emerge.  For He is with us.  He is with us.  He is with us... 
 
Recently I wrote a post about the Jewish children who suffered unimaginable horrors during World War II.  Facing all the military might of one of the most massive war machines ever assembled, it surely must have felt as if anyone who tried to stand against Hitler and his army would never stand a chance. 

As a student of history and of the Word of God, I find myself fascinated by the stories of those individuals who found amazing courage under fire to risk everything they had, including their own lives, to stand up to the terror and the power of the Nazi War Machine, in order to save countless helpless victims of the evil that had been unleashed in their lives and the lives of their innocent children.

I would like to highlight some of those heroes and heroines for my readers, beginning with the amazing story of Irena Sendler, a young nurse/social worker in Poland, at the start of the war.


Irena was a twenty-nine year old nurse/social worker at the beginning of World War II, when the Nazi war machine invaded Poland and began to unleash their horrors on the Jewish people of Warsaw.  Irena, raised a Roman Catholic believer in Jesus Christ, could not and did not look the other way. 

Finding a way to enter the Jewish ghetto, she used every means at her disposal to rescue over 2,500 Jewish children from certain death.  This was actually far more people rescued from annihilation than were rescued by Oscar Schindler, the real life hero of the film, "Schindler's List".

In her old age, Irena recalled the heartbreak of having to persuade young mothers to give her their children, on the vague possibility that they might be saved from execution.  The great majority of these mothers never saw their children again.  When they asked Irena if she could guarantee the safety of their children, Irena said, no, she could not even guarantee that she, herself, would leave the ghetto alive that very day.  The incredible love and courage of all of these women, mothers and smuggler alike, are an amazing testimony to the ends to which our God will go to protect innocent children that are precious to Him. 

When we are often faced with the challenging question, "Where was God, when the Jews were being murdered in Nazi Germany?" we have to look no further than the eyes of these mothers and this little Polish nurse.  Where did they get the courage to do what they did?  How did these mothers give away their most precious possession?  Where did Irena get the courage to face down her fears and enter the ghetto to rescue them from certain death?  This is uncommon courage, in the face of unbelievable terror.  Without a doubt, I believe it was God, Himself, working through them, just as surely as if He took those children by the hand and walked them out of the fire, one by one...

Irena never forgot the heartbreak of those mothers as they said their last goodbye to their children.  She kept meticulous records of the children's names and that of their mothers, hoping to see them reunited at the end of the war.  Sadly, most of these children never saw their mothers again.  They were exterminated in Nazi concentration camps where their children would certainly have also met their death, without the intervention of this one courageous woman who entered the fire on their behalf.  To God be the glory for the things He has done...

Irena risked it all.  She knew what it was to have the heartbeat of God beating under her skin for these Jewish mothers and their children.  She wore a yellow star, required of all Jews, in order to identify with them. 

I am so humbled when I think of what this amazing young woman did to contend with the powers of evil in her time.  In 1943, she was captured by the Nazis, tortured and sentenced to death for her "crimes." Nothing they could do to her ever forced her to tell them the names of the women and children she had rescued and hidden right under the eyes of the German army.  On her way to her execution, she was rescued at the hands of one of her executioners who had accepted a bribe from the underground Polish resistance, "Zegota", of which she was a founding member.  After her release, she returned to her work under a new name. 

Late in her life, her native Poland finally recognized her work in the rescue of these little ones during the war.  She responded with a letter to the Polish Senate saying: "Every child saved with my help and the help of all the wonderful secret messengers, who today are no longer alive, is the justification of my existence on this earth and not a title of glory."

Irena lived the gospel teaching from the Book of James:




"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless
is this:
to look after orphans and widows in their distress
 and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." 
James 1:27
 
 
 
In our own times, in our own fiery furnace, may we be found faithful...



----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note:  If you would like to know more about Irena Sendler, I invite you to check out the following resources:

Book, "Life in a Jar" by Jack Mayer

Book,  "Mother of the Children of the Holocaust."  This is a biography of Irena, written by Anna Mieszkowska.

PBS Film:  "In the Name of Their Mothers"  by Mary Skinner.  This special aired in 2011.  See YouTube for more information.








Tuesday, July 23, 2013

For Such a Time...

as this...


Looking at the faces of this terrified child and his mother, held captive by the insanity of a sadistic army led by Adolf Hitler during the Holocaust, my heart breaks to see the fear and trembling and helplessness of this child and his mother. 
 
If ever one doubted the potential for evil that exists in the heart of mankind, here is unvarnished evidence in black and white - this is Satan's domain and, when given free reign, the evil visited upon men, women and innocent children is beyond imagination.  Everything that is decent in us protests the existence of this kind of evil.  We simply do not want to accept this could ever have happened to anyone, let alone, innocent children and their mothers.  But happen it did.
 
Millions of men, women and children suffered the evils of hell unleashed on mankind at the hands of those who enshrined sadism, choosing to use their military might to delight in the torture and murder of the innocents, while turning a blind eye to the terror in their faces and a deaf ear to the screams of their suffering. 
 
 
 
"Anyone who causes one of these little ones to stumble..."
 
 
 
These are incredibly painful realities for us to ponder. It is so tempting to look the other way, refusing to acknowledge that evil exists on this level.  We want to say, this was another time and another place.  It could never happen today.  Or, could it?  What would we do if this kind of evil was visited on us today?  Would we have the courage to take a stand, at all costs to protect the innocent? 
 
I think we must look into the faces of these children of history and consider what God may ask of us in our life time.  We must acknowledge that evil exists on this level and it is running rampant through the streets of the world we live in today. 
 
 
 
 it would be better for him...
 
 
 Children are being kidnapped and sold into sex trafficking, used for the twisted pleasure of sex addicts who care nothing about the pain they are inflicting on these innocent lives.  They are sold into slavery, cast out on the streets by their own parents, beaten and murdered at the hands of those God called to love them.  Do we see them?  Do we hear them?  The God we serve most certainly does.  He has some pretty harsh words for those who neglect and abuse innocent children.
 
 
 
 
 
 to have a millstone hung around their neck...
 
 
In our own times, innocent children are not even safe in the womb.  Mothers, entrusted with life from the hand of God, rationalize their "right" to end the life of their unborn babies.  Do we seriously think we are better than Nazi Germany when we visit this kind of evil on our own children?  Do we hear what He has to say about those who harm "one of these little ones..."
 
 
 
and be thrown into the sea...
Matthew 18:6
 
Who are we, anymore?  Do we imagine that because we live in the United States of America, have beautiful homes and plenty of food on our tables, that we are above the Lord?  Do we seriously think we have no responsibility for the modern holocaust committed against our children in our lifetime?
 
All of this does bring to my mind the call of Esther, who sat on a queen's throne and had all of the wealth of the nation at her fingertips.  When evil came boldly into her house, she was very likely terrified.  Maybe she just thought, why should she risk anything?  After all, she had it pretty good.  Did she really need to identify with all the innocent people that would lose their lives if no-one stood up to the evil being planned for them? 

The Lord didn't offer her an easy escape route to avoid responsibility for what she saw as a problem that didn't directly involve her. 
 
In the end, she found her courage.  She realized she had been blessed beyond measure by a God who called her to look and see the evil all around her; to hear the cries of her people.  To care enough to risk it all.  Maybe we are under the same call today.  Maybe God has indeed placed us where He has placed us "for such a time as this..."
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Saturday, July 20, 2013

His Banner Over Me...

Is Love!" 
Song of Solomon 2:4


I grew up in one of the hottest "love" eras that ever pulsated and sweated its gyrating self onto the TV screen!  That's right - I am a child of the 50s when rock and roll was born and don't you know I was thrilled to twist and shout my little saddle-shoed self all around the dance floor.  If it wasn't the Twist, then maybe the Watusi, the Pony, the Stroll, the Mashed Potatoes...! For those of you who came on the scene long after American Bandstand and Dick Clark had exited center stage, you don't know what you missed! 

My star-struck teenage eyes witnessed the birth of rock and roll, the rise of Elvis Presley and The Beatles, and endless other pop stars who made their fortunes crooning to their young, naive audience about the fortunes of love. 

The Beatles famously advised us all that "All you need is love, love.  All you really need is love!" And of course, Elvis of the blue suede shoes and the scandalously gyrating hips, filled our impressionable, emerging awareness of things sexual and beyond, with the lyrics that made young girls swoon and faint at the very thought of the possibilities!

"Love me tender,
Love me true,
All my dreams fulfilled.
For my darlin I love you,
And I always will..."


While our parents had nightmares worrying about where this rock and roll stuff might lead their young offspring, the offspring themselves imagined themselves taking Elvis up on it and were more than willing to "fulfill all his dreams and love him tender, love him true"!  Could there be anything more to live for than love, love, love?  Love, we were quite sure, was "all we really need."  After all, the Beatles sang it.  It must be true"
 
It took a few years of life lived in the real world to discover that real love means a bit more than what we fantasized about!
 
Real love, we discovered, meant getting up every day to go to work to put food in the mouths of the babies that had been born out of the union of our love. 
 
Real love meant getting up in the middle of the night with a sick child with a temperature that scared us half to death. 
 
 Real love meant forgiving the one we had sworn to love til "death do us part" when we really wanted to help hasten that death along! 
 
Real love meant loving our partner when illness or old age ravished their good looks and left them hardly recognizable from the gorgeous hunk or beauty we had married in our youth. 
 


Real love takes its toll. 

Real love suffers. 


Real love cries.


Real love wants to run.


Real love stays.


Real love hangs on by the fingernails, when all else fails. 


Real love begs God for the strength to go on against


impossible odds.


Real love prays in the darkness to see the morning light.


Real love never, ever gives up on the object of its love.


Real love is unfathomable,

unexplainable,

unending,

so unlike anything we have ever known before. 




Real love teaches us who we are and who we want to be. 


Real love humbles us,

stretches us,

breaks us,

brings us to our knees...


Real love is the most difficult,

most heartbreaking,

most life-giving experience we have in this life.



Real love is the closest we will ever come to God


in this lifetime...













 
 
 






 
 

 

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Who Am I...

Really?!


Anybody out there remember the old game show "What's My Line?"  This may be going too far back for many of you, but, it was a pretty funny game show, with a cast of blindfolded stars who tried to guess who the famous guest was, based on yes/no answers to questions the cast asked each guest.  It was fun to see the confusion on the faces of the blindfolded guests, who could only go by the very limited, one word answers of the guests, to try to guess their identify. 
 
This morning, I was listening to a gifted expositor of the Word of God teaching on the encounter that Moses had with God in Exodus, as God informed Moses of His discontent with the people of Israel.  "I have seen these people," the LORD said to Moses, "and they are a stiff-necked people."  Exodus 32:9

The trouble with God is that He always knows who we are and calls us out on it, time and time again!  The Bible is packed with the honest stories of God's people lying, murdering, committing adultery, erecting idols...all the while strutting around calling themselves "God's people"!  It is tempting to congratulate ourselves on how unlike "them" we are!


If I were on the game show, it might go something like this!

Are you a believer in Jesus Christ?  Absolutely!  (God smiles!)

Are you a sinner?   Well - uh - maybe!  (God is still smiling!)

Do you have any idols in your life?  Of course not!  (God is nudging me under my ribs...!)

Do you ever resist the Word of God in your life?  Of course not!  (God is laughing wildly now!)

Do you like to think of yourself as a "good christian"?  Of course!  I'm on firm ground now!  (God is staring at me with those penetrating eyes of His...)

Do you think of yourself as a "stiff necked people"?  Huh?  How dare you!  (God is smiling again...)

Do you keep all of the rules of God's Word?  I don't think I like this game anymore...

Are you a prodigal?  Who me?  Why am I sweating like this?!

Are you a sinner saved by grace?  Yes!  Yes!  Finally!  I thought you'd never get there!  Yes, that's me! 

My God has come very close to me now.  He is covering me all over with His love.  He is laughing with me at the extravagant truth of the Gospel, that even a great sinner like me is saved by His grace! 

That's just the scandalous truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  Even a sinner who is standing with her toes touching the door posts of hell, about to cross over, is not too far out of reach of the God who loves us deeper than the deepest, darkest sin in our lives.
I speak from experience.  I am that one that He saved when I thought all was lost...

That is my prayer for you. May you come to know Who it is that loved you enough to die for you.  May you find Jesus.



"And may you have the power to understand,
as all God's people should,
how wide, how long, how high, and how deep His love is."
 
Ephesians 3:18




























 


Friday, June 21, 2013

My Close, Close Friend...




 
Self Pity...

I am often met along the way by my good friend, Self Pity. He came to visit me last night and made himself welcome and so all at home, he almost moved right in! At first, I didn't even notice that he was there with me. He is so soft spoken and sweet to my ears, it is often hard to detect when he joins me at the Table of My Own Undoing.



He comes in discreetly, so as not to disturb my treasured thoughts and just observes with me the tragic events that have, once again, befallen poor me.  But, oh the sweet, sweet savor of the words he speaks to me, when at last he makes his presence felt! No-one, and I mean no-one, seems to understand me better or care as deeply as my good, dear friend, Self-Pity. How grateful I am for his companionship. How much I treasure the wisdom he extols. He seems to know just what to speak to me to make me feel better at those moments of despair!
 
Like me, poor Self-Pity is so often misunderstood. We share a common bond of this unfortunate experience between us. Perhaps that is why we have come to enjoy each other's company. After all, who else is there who will take the time to listen to the endless list of grievances that tell the story of our neglect and betrayal at the hands of those we thought we could trust?  I propose to you that there is simply no one able and willing to accomplish this work in my life as devotedly and faithfully as my dear, neglected friend, Self-Pity.
 

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me so! Well, at least he feels sorry for me, and that is almost as good as love, isn't it?! He wraps his arms around me and squeezes me so tight, I sometimes wonder if I might suffocate right on the spot!  He reminds me over and over again how much he, and he alone, understands me like no other!  Why just last night he was commiserating with me in my suffering.  "Once again," he whispered lovingly in my ear, "You have been abandoned in the hour of your need.  And the saddest part is, you have always been there for them, haven't you, dear?  Haven't you always loved them, cared for them, sacrificed for them, given them everything you have?"  "Yes," I answered, grateful for the compassion of my dear, faithful friend in this dark hour of my need.  His words were so comforting to the wounds that he was touching with his long, protruding fingers...Was there something he was rubbing in them, or was that my imagination?  Something white and salty?!


"Thank you for your understanding, Self-Pity" said I.  "No one else even cares.  I am so completely abandoned and all alone... I find it all so unfair.  After all I've done for them - all I've given of myself.  I don't deserve this. Why do you suppose this is happening to poor, poor me?" 

I was beginning to feel an icy wind blowing through my little abode, even though the sun was shining through the windows on my face. I wondered at how the sun could dare to enter into this moment of my despair.  He should be ashamed to shine his light on my face when I all I wanted was to stay in the darkness with my only friend, Self-Pity.  Was that too much to ask...?!

Undaunted by the invading sun, my dearest friend in all the world, Self-Pity, smiled his sympathetic smile and drew me closer still until I felt his breath upon my cheek. "Tell me more", he whispered. "It is I, your closest friend, come to comfort you in the dark, dark hour of your need. Like I have always told you, they don't deserve you, do they? You have been so good to them. So giving. So self-less. Why, you remind me of myself, sometimes! We give and give and give some more. And what do we get in return? A basket of heartache too heavy for anyone to bear. Life is simply so unfair, isn't it, dear?"  He was stroking my wounds now, faster and faster...

"Look at them, all wrapped up in themselves! It's disgusting, isn't it? Do they even give you a moment's thought? Do they care for you the way you care for them? Do they pray for you as you have prayed for them?"  Catching himself, suddenly, I saw a flash of terror streak across his face.  He tried to recapture the words he had uttered, but, as we all know, words flung carelessly to the wind fly away and land wherever they like, never to be recaptured.  


Startled at the mention of my oldest, dearest friend, Prayer, I fell on my knees in worship and gratitude to the God who hears my every prayer and knows my every need.  Tears rolled down my cheeks like rivers that would never stop until they washed me whiter than snow... 

Looking in the distance, over the heads of all the messengers that had surrounded me the moment I had prayed, I watched the scoundrel, Self-Pity, running for his life, naked and unmasked, screaming that he hated me after all, and was happy for all my misfortunes. 

I looked around at all the friends my Lord had sent to comfort me - my dear, true friends, Forgiveness, Mercy and Unending Grace. In their company, I found the gift of healing and danced with the Angels of Joy and Peace around the throne of the King, who knows me better than I know myself and loves me anyway...

"The Lord is my strength and my portion forever..." 
                                                             Psalm 73:26  NIV



 
 
 
 

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Catching Fireflies in a Jar...

Let your little light shine...


Remember when we chased the pretty little dancing bugs
With flashlights on their backsides?! 
Remember how we giggled and ran to catch them
When they lit up the evening sky?


Remember how we took them prisoners
And kept them in a jar?
When I look back with grown-up eyes,
I wonder at the fireflies I captured in a jar.


Are you one of my fireflies, lighting up the sky?
Did you fly by me on a dark and starless night?
Did you land upon my finger and twinkle all your light?


Did you call your firefly buddies to dance and twist and shout?
Did you give up your life for me, to be my little beauty
When all the stars went out?


Without your light you are just a dreary little bug,
No-one would even notice, no one would ever hug.


Without the flashing light you carry on your back,
We’d never care to hunt you down and put you in our sack.


It’s the light, it’s the light, the beautiful, magical, light!
Where did you get that beauty, it’s such a lovely sight!


The dance I dance and the light I light,
In the starless sky, on the blackest night,


Is a love note from my Creator, sent especially to you,
To remind you that He’s always there,


When all the stars go out…

Friday, June 14, 2013

Everything that has Breath...

"Let everything that has breath
Praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord!
Psalm 150:6
NKJV
 
(This is a reprint of a favorite poem from 2011!) 


"Everyday Praises"
 
 


In McDonald's
and in the park

In the morning
and in the dark.

In the hospital
and in the store

In the needy
and in the more.

In the sunshine
and in the rain

In the laughter
and in the pain.

For snowflakes
and rainbows

For fingers
and toes.

For gardens
and beaches

For Whip Cream
and peaches.

For family and friends
For tears that are shed

For getting up mornings
and goings to bed.

For saying I'm sorry
and hearing it too

For friendships I treasure
and those I adieu!

For grace to forgive
And receive it as well

For ears that are tickled
With stories I tell.

For seasons that change
And things that do not

For wisdom to seek You
In spite of the what.

For questions I ask
And the answers You give

For prayers that are prayed
Every moment I live.

For the millions of ways
You have shown me Your love

You have covered me
Over with gifts from above.

For babies
I bounced upon my knee

For the beautiful world
You have given for free.

Like a Father who loves me
You dote on your child

I see You all over
In tears and in smiles.

Amazed by Your grace
I'm in love with Your face

You are the wonder
of all that I see.

For the heaven You purchased
With the blood of the Lamb

For everything, Father,
I thank you. Amen!

 

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Bend Low, My Little Sparrow...

“God resists the proud,
But gives grace to the humble.
Therefore, humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God,
That He may exalt you in due time,
Casting all your cares upon Him,
For He cares for you…”

1 Peter 5-7
NKJV



I am the Mighty Sparrow
Across the skies, I soar!
I greet the morning sunlight!
I open heaven’s door!

Gorgeous velvet brown and silken gray,
I’m beautiful, I know it, and I’m not afraid to say,
My beauty is spectacular, the envy of the day!
I am the very image of what beauty ought to be!
All the other birds I know wish they looked like me!

The biggest, plumpest worms are mine!
They crawl up to my royal seat upon the highest tree.
I love to see them wiggle their boneless little spines
And beg that they might be,
The one I choose for breakfast, for dinner or for tea!

I lived next door to a Cardinal once, poor ugly bird was he.
He was best friends with a Blue Jay and I am sad to say,
They hated who they were because they weren’t me!
When will all the other birds get it through their heads?
I am the best, the best there is, there is no one like me!

I laugh at the pathetic Peacock,
Feathers spread behind him, he’s strutting up and down.
He bears a striking image to a garish circus clown!
Join me in my laughter, come along with me!
You can be in my circle of those who worship me!

Please join me in my circle. It will just be you and me.
It’s just me surrounded by my mirrors, so I can check on me.
I don’t know why the other birds avoid me like they do.
I don’t know why they fly away. I don’t know why, do you?
Won’t you tell me what I’m doing wrong? Tell me, tell me true.

Can I tell you a secret?

Do you promise you won’t tell?
Sometimes I am so all alone,
I think that I’m in hell.


When I was just a baby bird, beneath my mother’s wing,
She loved to pull me close to her
And in my little baby ears, a lullaby she’d sing.

I can still hear her sweet, sweet voice
Singing over me...

Stay close to your Father, my baby, my love,
And always sing your song to Him, my little turtle dove,
Little bird, I love you,
and I thank the God who made you, and put you in my nest,
To be my little chickadee, nothing more and nothing less.

She said the Father fashioned me to be a little bird.
To sing the song He gave to me that no one has ever heard.
I am having trouble remembering the words and melody.
I haven’t sung to the Father in so long,

Will He remember me?

I think I’ve lost my way.  I think that I have sinned. 

Do you think that He'll forgive me?
Do you think He'll let me in?
But, I hear my mother’s tender song, singing over me.
“Bend low, my little sparrow.
You’ll find Him on your knees… “ 



 





 

















Thursday, May 23, 2013

Cracked Wide Open...

"...All Your waves and billows have gone over me."
Psalm 42: 7
NKJV

 
(This is a re-write of Psalm 42, in the language of my heart...)

Like the parched earth cracks and breaks wide open to gulp down the spring rains, so am I broken and dying for even a drop of You...
Where are You?  I can’t find You anymore.
Nothing satisfies my thirst.  I eat and drink my tears day and night.
I hear the mocking of my enemies, laughing and dancing a victory dance over me.  “Where is He, now?!  Where is He hiding?!”
My heart breaks when I remember You.  I remember when we were close and I celebrated in Your house, with those who knew Your name.  I remember how we danced and sang Your praises late into the night.  What happened to all that?  I thought it would never end.  I don’t understand why it did…
What’s wrong with me?  I have to stop all this crazy thinking.  Now is the time to trust You, right in the middle of all this madness.  I just need to see You next to me once more…
Oh, God, I cannot stop the noise inside of me that is washing over me like a river of darkness.  Where are You?  Why have you left me all alone with my enemies surrounding me?
Oh, God, I’m going under! Grab hold of me before they bury me forever in a grave marked "Despair".
Somewhere, I have a memory of You loving me.  Didn’t You care for me tenderly? Don’t I remember You singing a love song over me, day and night?
Yes, I’m sure of it now.  I remember You, Oh, Lord.  You have been like a safe house to me - the place I run to when the maniac storm chases after me and murders everything it touches... 

But, why don’t You remember me?  Am I nothing to You, now?
If I matter to You, why have you left me alone with them?  Do You see them circling around me like a pack of wild dogs, barking at me constantly their vicious taunts?  They have torn me to pieces and gnaw on my broken bones.
I cannot shut them out.  Can’t you hear them laughing at me - mocking me?  “Where is your precious God, now, you fool?  You are all alone…”
Even so, I cannot forget Your touch; the joy of knowing You…
Is that You invading this darkness?  Is that You I see in the distance?
Is that Hope I feel stirring in my heart?
Is that You drawing me, claiming me, pulling me back to You?

Is that Your voice I hear stilling the jeers of my enemy?
There really isn’t much I know for sure, but, this much I have learned.  I would be a fool, indeed, to ignore a God like You.
You, and You alone, are the only God I have and the One I will praise forever…


 
 
 

 

Thursday, May 16, 2013

I Have You...

..."Even if I go through
the deepest, darkest valley,
I will fear no evil,
For YOU are with me...
Psalm 23:4


Mother's Day.  Serving cupcakes and ice-cream-sundays to mothers in their eighties and nineties.  Some in wheel chairs, some blind, some deaf, some confused and losing their way mentally.  I had invited a new-found friend, an excellent speaker, a sister-in-Christ, to come and share her testimony with this little rag-tag group of ladies that had gathered around the ice-cream and cake to celebrate the blessing of motherhood.  My friend is a mother of several children, now grown, and of one who went to be with the Lord at the tender age of fourteen.  She has an amazing story...

Tanya (not her real name) lost her son to gang members who showed up on the playground where he was playing basketball and shot at random into the crowd of young boys shooting hoops that day.  When they were finished, her son was lying on the ground with a bullet in his head.  He died on the way to the hospital.  She never even got to say good-bye. 

For any mother, this is the ultimate loss.  Tanya is no exception.  As she shared with us the pain of that moment, over twenty years ago, she struggled to keep back the tears even now.  There really are no words to comfort a mother who experiences this kind of a tragedy.  But, I had asked Tanya to share with us because of the uncommon grace that oozes from the pores of this beautiful woman whose faith has deepened and flourished, not only in spite of this loss, but, even, because of it. 

Listening to her testimony of God's care for her during the most horrible time she ever lived through, she told us of the tender moments when Jesus drew very close to this grieving mother and reassured her of His unfathomable love for her as she said goodbye to the son she loved.

In the depth of her agony to release her son into the hands of God, this woman of faith was torn between her love for her son and the knowledge that he had gone home to be with His Savior.  She knew that of a certainty - she did not doubt it.  But, that didn't make the lettting go any easier, of course.  Right in the middle of the depth of that struggle, she heard the voice of Jesus calling her, loving her, comforting her.  "I have you, Tanya.  I have you..." 

There are many other things she shared with us about this trial in her life.  But, for now, that is all I want to leave you with.  Whatever you are going through today, no matter the tragedy or the trial, listen for the voice of your Savior calling to you, comforting you, loving you through it all.  No matter what it is you have been asked to face that seems impossible, hold on to Jesus.  Just remember that it is the same Savior that spoke to my friend that is reassuring you today.  He is saying over and over again, "I have you...  I have you..."  Jesus Christ has you.  No matter, what, He has you.  And He will bring you all the way home...


Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Sing Over Me...

"...And He will quiet me with His love.
He will sing over me with rejoicing."
Zephaniah 3:17
KJV



It's morning.  I see the sun bursting through the windows, touching everything in its path with fingers of gold.  The cat stretches and meows a good morning greeting to be sure I am roused enough to fill her food dish.  Time to get on with the day. 

Awakening to the dawn, I realize there are some things left over from yesterday that need to be finished today.  At the top of the list is a phone call I must make that I have been dreading.  I know I cannot put it off any longer.  The time is now.  Lifting the phone reluctantly, I am aware of a growing anxiety creeping up my spine, filling my entire body with an unwelcomed and uninvited guest.  Anxiety is taking over my world, shutting out the stunning beauty of the morning that has broken out all over my tiny apartment.  All I can see is the tentacles of the hand of panic that has me in its grip. 

I dial the phone and wait to hear the voice of the person I am calling, convinced that my call will be unwelcome and unreceived.  Suddenly, she is on the phone, engaging me in a sweet and gentle voice of welcome, blowing apart all of my preconceived certainties about how she would respond to my call.  She shocks me with her understanding of the situation I am bringing to her.  She assures me of her confidence in me and graciously encourages me to continue on the course I am on, with her blessing.  I am blown away...

As I am listening to the reassurance of this lovely lady on the other end of the phone, something begins to run through my mind - a scripture I have heard so often that I have come to know it by heart...  Something about "He will quiet you with His love - He will sing over you with JOY!"  I am suddenly, immediately, breathtakingly, in the presence of The Lord.  I know beyond the shadow of a doubt, that He is there with me.  He has prepared this woman for my phone call.  He has paved the way.  He went before me, He is sitting in my living room at this moment, and He will go after me...  "Surely His uncommon Goodness and Mercy will follow me, all the days of my life..."  Ps. 23:6

He is teaching me to trust Him, day by day, minute by minute.  He is calming me, He is loving me, He is changing me.  By the sheer weight and glory of His presence and His love.  I am amazed by this God who never fails to surprise me with His tender, loving care for me when I have decided, once again, that I am on my own in this world, and I can't take another step.  He is there.  He is all over me.  He is the essence of love unspeakable and full of glory.  He transforms every inch of who I am.  He is the source of everything good, and lovely, and beautiful.  He is the Sunshine bursting through the  windows.  He is the God I love and the God I worship.  Oh, Lord, You're beautiful...











Sunday, May 5, 2013

Can't Even Get Out of Bed...

"The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
 because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.
 He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the captives free..."
Luke 4:18
NKJV

Thinking about the people who really need the Lord today.  The one's who didn't make it to church this morning.  Some of them are card carrying members of the local church.  And some of them never stepped foot in a church building before.  They are more than the sum total of what others may say about them or think about them.  They are frail and fragile, often beyond our reach. For them, the bottom has fallen out.  They need God in a way that cannot be described.  If you haven't been there, you probably can't relate.  But, if you have, you know exactly what I am talking about. 

I am not talking about a people who get up on a Sunday morning and fit God into their schedule because it's expected, because they are church members or members of the deacon board, or, even a Sunday School teacher or a pastor who stayed up late preparing his weekly sermon.  I'm not talking about the kids who go to church because their parents dragged them there, or the husband who "plays the role" of the spiritual head of the family or the wife who begrudgingly tags along with the husband who wants her there. 

No, I'm not talking about any of them. 

I'm thinking of the one who drank herself to sleep last night to drown out the voice of despair that she couldn't turn off in her head. 

I'm thinking of the one who graduated from college three years ago and wants to give it all up because there isn't a job to be found, even for a college graduate. 

I'm thinking of the young husband who got married in a whirlwind of excitement and promise, whose wife strutted out the front door yesterday with his babies in her arms, to live with the boyfriend she has been having an affair with. 

I'm thinking of the young college girl who bought into all the hype that sex, in any form, at any time, with anyone, is her right and privilege.  I'm picturing her broken and weeping all alone in her room now that she has exercised her "right to choose" and killed the baby she wanted to carry but couldn't find a way. 

I'm picturing the 70-year-old grandfather, lying on his death bed all alone in an "independent living" home, where he found refuge and where none of his children or grandchildren or siblings or friends ever bothered to visit him. 

I'm picturing the young soldier, dying on a battlefield in a war that nobody wants to acknowledge and everyone pretends isn't happening. 

I'm picturing the little five-year-old girl, looking up into the eyes of the father she trusts, just before he raped and murdered her mercilessly. 

I'm picturing the babies, born fully formed and beautiful from the hand of God, dying on the abortion clinic floor after the doctor that delivered them cut their spinal chord with a pair of scissors to "get rid of them".

So many people, young and old, dying natural and unnatural deaths all around us.  My heart cries out for them.  I know that is the heart of God crying within me for each one. 

People need the Lord.  Not an empty religious ritual where we gather together on Sunday and get Him out of the way just before we go to Sunday brunch.  But, a desperate, "sell everything you have" to get to Him need for the Only God who matters. 

Forgive me if I have no patience with empty rituals that don't bring us to the throne of God.  To me, they are a waste of time and a mockery of God.  He said He came to "set the captive free."  That's me and that's you...

He came for the sick, the dying, the desperate.  What are we doing settling for anything less...?