They Shall Be Satisfied...

Following a day of routine work that left me tired and somewhat bored, I had been asked to fill in for a couple who host an English Speaking class for Internationals from all over the world. I had put together a few questions to help us get to know each other, since everyone except me is new to America.  I had titled the list of questions "Getting to Know You" and break into the first few lines of that famous song from "The King and I," one of my favorite movies.  The class begins to laugh and tells me that, no, not a single one of them has ever seen that movie!  Having seen that movie many times over, it surprises me that none of them have seen it. This is my first real clue that we come from vastly different worlds...

Surely, my God has a great sense of humor!  Here am I, not knowing a word of any language except English, never having traveled further away from America than Canada, yet, I have often found myself fascinated and mesmerized by visitors to America from foreign shores.  I have mentored many students from China and India, worked in International Student offices at the local university, and now, find myself sitting in the teacher's chair of an English Speaking class for Internationals. And loving it!  Only God could place me here and only God could accomplish His purpose well beyond what I can do with my english-only tongue!  

I watch and listen with amazement and awe as one of the ladies answers my question, "What do you like most about America?" Without pause, no sooner are the words out of my mouth, than she responds "The freedom to think what you want to think!" I have never heard it put that way, but, there it is.  She expounds for quite a while, explaining that in her native country, the government took away all of the freedoms the people enjoyed "after the revolution." She refers repeatedly to the revolution, something I remember reading about, but, here, right in front of me, sits a woman whose family fled their native land to come to America to have freedom. As she speaks, others in the class nod their heads up and down in agreement, repeating out loud the word "freedom."  Yes, they say, it is freedom that they did not have in their homeland and freedom they most treasure about America.  

Moving to a gentleman in the class, I throw out what I think is a fairly innocent question: "What brought you to America?" Expecting him to say family or a job opportunity, he responds in broken English, with a story of loss and heartache that leaves me speechless with an awareness of what courage it took for this man to leave his native land and travel thousands of miles to America.  

He explained that, while working as a lawyer in his homeland, he also served on a commission to investigate human rights abuses.  In the course of his work on that commission, government corruption was uncovered involving the murder of some innocent citizens who never had the opportunity for "due process under the law."  As a lawyer, of course, he was trained in the law and understood the full range of implications in uncovering this abuse.  His investigation led to a report of the corruption and murders and resulted in his life being threatened to the point that he had to leave his country, just to survive.  Leaving a young family behind, he fled for his life. 

As I sat listening to his story, I struggled to comprehend what he must be going through in a completely foreign country, living without his family, without his career credentials to get a job, not even recognizing his language being spoken by anyone around him from day to day.  This is a man who has suffered for righteousness and continues to suffer today.  How many are there who could not get away and lost their lives paying the price for speaking out against a corrupt government that murders its citizens at will?  How many have fled to America to taste the sweet, sweet fruit of freedom that they cannot have at home?  How many of us, who have lived under that freedom since birth, never give it a thought until we encounter a visitor, new to America, who finds it priceless?

This man, broken and humble in such a beautiful way, has a long journey ahead of him, and he isn't yet sure of where it will take him or his family.  Sharing that he is a Christian, I spoke to him of Jesus and the Holy Spirit and assured him of my prayers for him as a brother in Christ.  What does God have planned for him?  Why did God bring him here?  What will He do for this man who has a heart for God, for truth, for justice and for freedom?  What will God do? I do not know.  I only know it was a privilege to sit in that class and hear his story.  It is a privilege to witness courage under fire.  It is a privilege to watch God work in this man's life. It is a privilege to pray for him and his family.

For me, it is a constant wake-up call to come out of my slumber and be a part of what God is doing in His church right under my nose.  I thank Him for the privilege of being a small part of anything He is doing.  May I have the strength and the courage to walk the walk when it is a path of fire.  

Thank you, Lord, God, that You are able to use me in spite of my weaknesses and that, in Your hands, they melt away.  Thank You, Father, God, that you are the God who hears us, the God Who Sees Us and the God who has promised to fill those who suffer for righteousness, for Your name's sake.  Thank You, Father, God of All Mercy, God of All Grace.  We need You so...

Please remember to pray for the persecuted all around the world.

In the Depths of His Love...

"He hideth my soul
in the depths of His love
and
covers me there with His hand..."
Hymn "He Hideth My Soul"
by Fanny Crosby

It is Easter weekend in the United States this week.  This picture poignantly portrays to me the loneliness of so many who have lost a loved one. When facing a holiday alone, it can feel like someone ripped open our wounds all over again and poured a bucket of vinegar all over them. There is a stinging, throbbing pain that surfaces when we least expect it.  It can feel like the world stopped spinning on its axis and nobody but us has noticed.  Grief can be very, very lonely.  People may avoid us, not knowing what to say.  If the loss is very new, we may still be in shock.  If the loss involved a spouse, we haven't even begun to figure out how we can make it without him or her. We may have been married for many years and now, suddenly, we find ourselves single again. How do I do that single thing after all these years?  I don't want it.  I didn't sign up for this...

Even after many years of living without a loved one, holidays spent with them, either good or bad, bring a rush of emotions that come with remembering the past.  We can feel lost, overwhelmed, unbearably lonely, and just want to run away.  I have been there.  I know it is extremely painful and not something we can talk to everybody about.  In fact, it can seem like people avoid us just wanting us to "get over it, already..." People are poor substitutes for God...

People may push us away, ignore us, pretend they don't see us.  They may reject us, avoid us, pressure us, be irritated with us, even sometimes laugh at us, partly because they can't handle the depth of our grief, or because they simply don't understand.  At times like this, it is so important to know what God has to say to us about who we are in His eyes, how much He cares for us, that He deeply, deeply understands our suffering and our loneliness.  He is a "man of sorrow, acquainted with our grief." Isaiah 53:3

This Easter, the world may seem to be dancing all around us, but, take stock of what is really going on in the world.  It is swinging wildly out of control all around us.  Do not be deceived by what appears to be a perpetual party.  We weren't made for that.  Especially at Easter, as we remember the unimaginable suffering and death of Jesus, we must chose to remember, in our own grief, that He is with us - He suffered and died an excruciating death to walk with us through it all.  The Resurrection of Jesus tells all of us who are wounded, grief struck and lonely that there is Hope. That He loves us more than we can possibly imagine.  He is holding on to you and me when we are overcome with grief and loneliness.  He is hiding you "in the depths of His love..." And the same hands that were pierced for us are covering us, protecting us, loving us, holding onto us.  He hasn't let go just because we're angry or depressed or cursing the world for our loss.  He is holding on to us and I don't believe He will ever let go.  You are more precious than diamonds, more beautiful than velvet, more treasured than gold. 

You are loved...

My Always Dependable Love...

"For You have been a safe place for me,
A good place to hide.
Strong God, I'm watching You do it,
I can always count on You, God -
My dependable love..."Psalm 59:16,17
The Message

What a winter this has been. All around me people are dropping like flies to some mysterious upper respiratory infection that hits hard and stays much longer than expected.  For many elderly people I know, this infection hit unexpectedly and invaded the lungs with a ferocity that sometimes stole the very breath of life from its victims.  I have several friends that did not survive the attack of this deceptive and dangerous invader. 

Battling this infection myself, I found myself sitting in the cold, sterile halls of an emergency room recently for over five hours. Silly me.  When I arrived at the ER, I noticed with relief that there were only three people sitting in the waiting room ahead of me. Ahh, I said to myself, I will be in and out of here in no time! Five and a half hours later, I finally went home.  Grateful to have medicine in hand and a relatively non-threatening diagnosis, I was grateful to be going home and not to a hospital.  It seems like hospitals are some of the most dangerous places to be if you want to survive. 

The kernal of this story that I want to tell you about, though, is how God met me in the cold, lonely halls of the Emergency Room and cared for me and "loved on me" right in that place when I needed Him most.  It is an experience I do not want to forget...

To give you a little background, I do not live close to any relatives, none of my children or grandchildren are close by for me to call on for help at times like this.  Not wanting to pay for an ambulance to take me there, I drove myself to the ER and sat alone in the waiting room and then in the examining room for what seemed to be forever.  Time passes very slowly when you are alone and not feeling well.  A perfect set up for a pity party.  Of course, I began to consider my circumstances, and, finding them very bleak, began to feel very, very alone in the world and, being sick, I felt extremely vulnerable.  Ever been there?!

Not one to stop at the first sign of trouble, I forged ahead in my imagination, filling my mind with "what ifs" to keep me company.  What if I need surgery?  What if I have cancer? Or, Pneumonia (the untreatable, fatal type, of course!)  What if I don't make it?  After all, I have several friends that did not.  I could go on and on, but it is enough to say, I got myself pretty wound up with all of the possibilities of certain disaster waiting for me around the corner.  What made it all worse, though, was that I was feeling distinctly Alone, with a capital A.  To drive that feeling home, the doctor taking my history looked at me and asked, as if he, of course, could tell, "Do you live alone?!" That confirmed it. Everyone knows I'm all alone!  I didn't like answering that question in the affirmative.  It only drove home my feeling of isolation when I so wanted to be loved and cared for at that very moment.

As the doctor left the room for another hour saying he would be "right back" I was overcome with feelings of needing comfort and love.  My heart turned in the direction of the Lord.  I do find that it is when I feel the most desperate and in need of help, my prayers are the most honest and real. Speaking to God as my dear friend, I asked Him to help me in that situation, admitting how alone I felt and how overwhelmed.  Immediately, I mean immediately, Jesus spoke to my heart as clear as if he was standing right next to me.  In fact, that is exactly how I felt.  He told me I was not alone at all, that He was right there in that room with me, taking care of me, holding on to me, owning me as His own.  I kid you not, I broke out in a huge smile and instantly began to feel His Presence comforting me and loving me more perfectly than I could even imagine.  I knew that He was with me. I was not alone and I knew it very deeply.  The nurse came in to take my blood pressure which had been slightly elevated when I first came in and told me it was the lowest it has been in many years.  She must have wondered what had happened to me in the time since she had seen me earlier! I almost could not stop smiling!

I hope today, wherever you are, whatever you are going through, you will turn your heart in God's direction and listen for His voice singing His love song over you.  You are never alone with God. He is a "safe place" in the middle of whatever storm you may be facing.  He loves you.  You can depend on it.  He is right there waiting for you to turn to Him.  He is our safety in the time of trouble.  A hiding place for us to run to and rest in until we are recovered.  He is "my always dependable love..."  May you call out to Him and find Him right there, holding you, comforting you, washing you all over with His love.  You are safe in the shelter of His wings...

Is That You?

'Then it happened, when Ahab saw Elijah,
that Ahab said to him,
Is that you, O troubler of Israel?"
1 Kings: 18:17

O troubler of Israel!!  I so love that title for the great prophet of God, Elijah!  I will not go into the details of this story of the battle between a pagan king and a prophet of God, but, if you are not familiar with it, read chapters 18 and 19 of 1 Kings to see what unfolds.  It is a fascinating story of human nature on display in all of it's brokenness and the God of all Kindness and Mercy.

My purpose right now is to draw some striking similarities to our lives, our struggles, our disappointments, and how God, in His lovingkindness ministers to us in the midst of them.  I'm quite sure there are many theological riches to be gleaned from these passages, but, for me, I just want to pull out some of the jewels I see that feed my soul with their beauty.

Elijah, following a spectacular victory over the enemy of God, responds to the threats of the madwoman, Jezebel, to murder him within a day, by running for his life and hiding under a tree and, finally, retreats to a cave to nurse his emotional wounds.  He is all alone with his thoughts and they are not good.  He decides that he is so miserable that he would like to die and asks God to let him do so.  He thinks that no-one has followed him, that his ministry has been a colossal waste of time - after all, he "is the only one left."  He is exhausted, worn out, lonely, more than ready to give up. To use our language, he's reached the end of his rope, he's had it, he's "done"! 

    "So he said, "I have been very zealous for the Lord God of Hosts,
for the children of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, torn down
Your altars, and killed Your prophets with the sword. I alone
am left, and they seek to take my life. 1 Kings 19:10

Well, he does have a point!  I mean, I can relate!  Here he has been laboring and fighting the evil King Ahab and the prophets of Baal, he has pulled off a fantastic victory (or, rather, God has pulled it off!) and what does he get for it?  The evil Jezebel is planning to kill him.  It's just too much for Elijah.  Of course, we know how the story turns out, so we can stand above it all and wag our finger at Elijah for his lack of faith.  But, if I am really honest with myself, I am all too sure, I would have done the same. In fact, I have!  But, what I want to pull out of this story is the beautiful way that God receives Elijah, and loves him back to sanity and to ministry!  God doesn't beat him up for being so short on faith.  He listens.  He understands.  He loves him through to recovery. I absolutely love that picture of our God...

God reaches out to Elijah in the cave.  He sees him hiding in the dark.  He knows he's afraid.  He knows he's exhausted.  He knows, Elijah.  He knows exactly what Elijah needs and supplies his every need.  Elijah has lost his way.  He has come through a battle with great victory, but all he can hear is the sound of terror, threatening his life.  He hears her screaming her deadly threat.  He hears Ahab demeaning and mocking him.  He cannot hear God. The other voices are too loud in his head. 

God comes to him in exactly this state and in this "god-forsaken" place. But the truth is, there is no such thing.  God will visit His child wherever he is in need.  In prison, in a deep, dark pit, in a dark, cold, isolated cave, in a divorce court, in a hospital room where death seems to be having its way...There is no place God does not go to rescue his lost child.  Or we might say, His depressed child.  His suicidal child.  His terrified child. His desperately lonely child.  Elijah was all of those things.  Hiding in the cave, very likely trembling in the cold.  Hungry, lost, depressed, despairing, wanting to die.  

In this state, God moves in on Elijah.  He speaks to him lovingly. He calls him to come out of the place he is hiding.  He asks him, as if He doesn't know, "What are you doing here, Elijha?"

Then He lovingly directs Him to come out of the cave and into the Presence of the Lord.  As the story goes, Elijah goes and looks for God in the storm, but, God isn't in the storm,  He looks for Him in the fire, but, God isn't in the fire.  It is in the stillness, the quiet, that Elijah finally is able to hear God's "still, small voice!"  And it is in the Comforting and Reassuring Presence of the Lord that Elijah rediscovers who he is and who God is. As God comforts Him and reminds him of his calling, Elijah begins to recover and come back to his place in the Lord's arms.  God visits him with His Presence.  And in His Presence, every need is met.  In His Presence, is fullness of joy...

God corrects Elijah's distorted vision of himself ("I alone am left..." 1 Kings 19:10).  He calls him out of the darkness of the cave, of his deadly thoughts, and into His arms, into His Presence, and into His calling on Elijah's life.  I love this.  God doesn't stand outside the cave, wagging His finger, bemoaning what a mess Elijah is, and, that, after God had fed him and sent His angels to minister to him!  He understands how lost Elijah feels.  He comes right to where Elijah is and meets him there. He doesn't "preach" to him, telling him when he gets his act together, then, maybe, God will consider a visit.  No, He visits him there, right smack dab in the middle of the mess and the misery.  

I find enormous encouragement in this beautiful story of God's love for his imperfect, sinning servant.  He doesn't require perfection.  He requires honesty.  And certainly, Elijah was that and then some!

I love this story because it is such a beautiful picture of The Lord's love for his servant.  He knows Elijah from years of the two of them walking together and talking things over.  Yes, Elijah has served the Lord.  But it was the Lord, Himself, who called Elijah and who then enabled him to do what God asked of him.  But, God doesn't just use Elijah to do His bidding.  No, this is a picture of a God who knows his servant, in all of his weaknesses and loves him through and through.  God knows Elijah's deepest need, even when Elijah doesn't or isn't able to think clearly enough to remember.  Elijah needs the Lord, Himself.  Desperately.  He cannot go on any longer without a visitation from the Lord that he loves.  That's you and me.  We may have food on the table and a beautiful home with every physical need met, and still be in despair.  We need Him. More than anything else, we need Him... 

My hope and prayer for you is that you will find Him right there with you, wherever you go to hide from the storms and the raging fires in your life. May you find Him in the still small voice that is calling you to come out and return to the One Who Loves You more than you know. He is right there.  In the middle of the mess...

Always Remember...

I love you!

When I was just a little girl of about five years old, I went to spend the summer with my grandparents in New York City.  Although they knew me, of course, I had no memory of my mother’s parents, since we had moved to Chicago when I was about two. 

Today, I remember my grandmother being a very stern and seemingly cold woman who never smiled or laughed or seemed to enjoy life.  She had lived through two World Wars, and the Great Depression.  She had lost a child she loved in a tragic car accident and endured having a son who contracted polio and was crippled for the rest of his life.  She was something like a rubber band, stretched by pain to the limit, always about to burst.

My grandfather, on the other hand, was a study in contrast.  He was a serious man.  After all, he had lived through the same circumstances that my grandmother had.  But, somehow, he had found a grace and a peace with life that my grandmother never did.  Always avoiding my grandmother for fear of another rupture of her temper, I watched with the big, innocent eyes of childhood, as my grandfather, for some reason unknown to me, loved my grandmother. 

Her angry outbursts and sour disposition didn’t seem to faze him.  He still teased her and called her “Mary Lou”.  When he called her that, all her frozen edges melted away right before my eyes.  He would hug her and kiss her and pinch her affectionately.  I, terrified to get to close to her, watched in amazement that she was “touchable”!

I don’t remember a lot about that summer.  Except for Sunday evenings in the living room.  We didn’t watch T.V.  We sat around and talked, or played checkers or read books or the comics.  I waited anxiously watching every move my grandfather made until, as if on cue, he would rise from his chair, stretch his big frame and invite me to go to the corner grocery store to buy an ice cream cone.  Off we would go, my little five year old hand cupped in his enormous, grown-up hand, just me and Gramps! 

Back home in Chicago, I was one of six kids and a twin to boot.  I didn't know what it was to have my parents all to myself!  Yet, here I was, all alone with my grandfather, and he was buying me an ice cream cone!  This happened without fail every Sunday evening.  I thought it must be my reward for surviving the week with my grandmother!

We would trot into the grocery store with my grandfather announcing loudly that “my granddaughter needs an ice cream cone, Jerry!”  Then we would make a big production out of selecting just the right type of sprinkles to decorate the top of my ice cream cone.  Life just didn't get any better than this!  Grandpa loved me.  I had proof!  He bought me ice cream.  And he threw some sprinkles on top, just for extra measure!

This dear man, my mother’s father, has been home with the Lord for many years now.  I never spent another summer with him.   But, the memory of his love for me, and for my grandmother, is indelibly written on my heart.  He taught me so much about love in the few short months I had with him.  Here are some of the lessons I learned at my grandfather’s knee.

Love comes in many different packages.  

Some come with understanding for the misunderstood.

Some come with forgiveness for the unforgivable.

Some choose to see with eyes of love what no one else can see.

Some remember the love that was shared 

when everything seemed so right.

Some continue to love when everything goes wrong.

Some remember the promises that were made yesterday.

Some keep the promise long after others have forgotten.

Some protect the object of their love, no matter what.

Some sell everything they have for love and never look back.

Some don’t just buy the ice cream.  

They throw some sprinkles on top…

___________________________________________________________________________________

" Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres... Love never fails. Now abide faith, hope and love.
 But the greatest of these is love."  1 Cor. 13:4-8, 13

Exceedingly, Abundantly...

"Now to Him who is able
to do exceedingly, abundantly more
than all we can ask or imagine,
to Him be glory in the Church
and in Christ Jesus,
forever and ever..."
Ephesians 3: 20:21

Tell me, where does God live?

I need to see Him, right away...

I'm not one of those who visits often

Or drops by every day.

But, I have a need I'd like to ask of Him

I doubt that He can help me or even knows my name

We're pretty much strangers, me and Him.

I much prefer my sin...

But, today, something happened

That scared me to the bone

I'm looking at the bottom

The end of all I've known.

I never thought I needed Him

I really didn't care.

God is just for losers, for those who need a crutch.

I brushed Him off, I ran from Him, I didn't need Him much.

Today, it all blew up on me,

Everything I love and treasure has washed into the sea.

Where is God?  Does He hear me when I call Him?

Tell me, do I sicken Him when He looks upon my sin?

If I find Him driving on the road, will He drive right over me?

Pretending He didn't mean to, pretending He didn't see?

Or if He stops to talk to me, will He say that it's too late

Or remind me of my littleness and that He is One so Great?

Or will He say, He wishes He could help,

But, even for Him, it's just too much

He can only fix the fixable

And can only do so much.

Will He say, He wished He had the power

To do what needs to be done.

Laughing, will He ridicule and mock me

And have a little fun?

I'm afraid to think He cares for me.

Please tell me is it true?

Have you found the One who loves you?

Is it possible it's true?

I know it isn't like me to believe in fairy tales.

But, this God I'm feeling come to me

Is so much more than Disneyland

So much more than anything I ever thought or dreamed.

I don't know why I took so long

To look for Him who made me.

To seek the One who died for me

And loves me as I am.

I don't know the whys of so many things.

I don't have any answers.

I'm resting in the One who knows.

Who loves me without measure.

He promises to love me

Until the end of time.

I'm dancing in the glory!

I am His and He is mine...

Can These Bones Live?

"Can these bones live?"
Ezekiel 37:3

Can you imagine taking a tour of a local cemetery, minus the headstones with the graves exposed and the dead bones lying everywhere in plain view?  That is precisely the scene described in the Book of Ezekiel, as the Lord takes him on a tour of a valley full of dry, dead bones.  Ezekiel describes a scene where he is standing in the middle of a valley surrounded by dry, dead bones.  Not a trip I’d like to take. But, God takes him there and questions him.

“Mortal, can these bones live?” I answered, “O, Lord, God, YOU know.” Ezekiel 37:3  A perfect answer when you are having a conversation with the Lord.  Best to admit, that, in His Presence, we scarcely know our own name.  Simply no contest.  God is God and we are not…

Ezekiel, knowing it is impossible for him to make these dry bones live again, nevertheless acknowledges that God can do the impossible and make even dead bones fill with life and dance on their own graves, if He so chooses.  The Lord, being the Lord, instructs Ezekiel to “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them:  O dry bones, hear the Word of the Lord.  Thus says the Lord God to these bones, I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live…and you shall know that I am the Lord.” Ezekiel 37:4,5  

  

I find it odd, somewhat, that, as Christmas draws to a close for another year, I am drawn like a magnet to these verses.  I am humbled, once again, to remember that God decides when and where He will take us to speak to us, just as He ruled the time in Ezekiel’s life and took him to some shocking places.  Why was this so shocking for Ezekiel and why is it for me?  Because it was dead.  It was rotting.  It was ugly.  It was hopeless.  We don’t like to look at those kind of things, especially not at Christmas, the birthday of the baby Jesus.  Let’s protect Jesus’ eyes from this horror.  And, while we’re at it, let’s protect mine too.  But, Jesus doesn’t need protection.  He knows these realities better than we.

I have spent some wonderful moments with family and friends this Christmas.  But, in the middle of the wonder and sparkle of Christmas, I smelled dead bones.  I looked into eyes that were dead.  I felt the cold chill of hopelessness sitting across the table from me.  I hugged stone hearts that could not really feel my love.  Or God’s. 

As I was reading these verses, I heard God say to me “I took you on a tour of dry bones.  Maureen, can these bones live?”  I have to say, Lord, God, You know they can.

Are you dry and dead and out of all hope tonight?  Are you ready to close the door and bolt it shut for good?  Are you giving up on something – your future, your children, your marriage, your faith, your calling, your God?  Do you believe God can make your dead bones live?  Do you believe He can breathe on you and make you live in ways you cannot even imagine?  Do you believe God?  That’s really what it comes down to.  We can do all the religious rituals we like to do to feel spiritual, but, is God really able to touch us in the dead places?  Do we really believe He can bring new life into something we have decided to walk away from? 

I have to admit, looking at dead corpses is scary.  Carrying them around with us is even more horrible.  Why don’t we let God have His way?  I know.  That’s pretty scary too.  But, I want to believe He can do what He says He can do.  I want to believe He can make the dead bones in my life and yours, live.  And dance.  And shout the praises of Our God.  Because, then, we will know that He is Lord...

I'll pray for you that, in this coming year, you will see God breathe new life into the dead bones in your life, wherever you have buried them.  I'm counting on you to do the same for me...

There is a River...

"He who believes in Me,
Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water..."
John 7:38

I sat me down and talked with me

I told me everything that needed to be said

I forgot to even go to bed!

I wanted to say the important things

The things that no one else has said,

About the world this Christmas time.

What is good and right and fine.

Under all the silly things,

Even the brutal, ugly things,

There’s a river of kindness

That flows for me, for you,

For all of us that need to know.

There’s a river of kindness that washes me

That satisfies my thirsty soul.

I just want to put a toe in the water

And see how it feels,

To wash away all my sin and my fears.

I so want to go deeper

In this river of love.

I want to know where it comes from

And where does it go?

I want to jump in with never a care

And let it cover my feet to my hair!

I just want to swim in it up to my ears

I want it to wash away all of my tears.

River of kindness, of extravagant love

Wash me all over with Grace from above.

Make me all over this Christmas Day.

God of the River of Kindness and Love,

Come to me, stay with me,

Always, I pray...

Finding Room for Gratitude...

Gratitude is a memory of the heart...

Watching the craziness in Ferguson this past week, I had to remind myself that all across the nation this Thursday, we will gather to give thanks.  Not to just fill up on turkey until we can't get off the couch, but to say thank you to our God for all of His many blessings.  For some, it is a lonely and difficult time.  I know that there are many people all around America that aren't feeling very thankful.

I believe it is a good thing to call the nation, and oneself, to bend a knee and say a prayer to thank the God of all provision and grace, even when we least feel like it.  But, let's lift a prayer for those who aren't in the mood to say thanks. I have been there myself.  When I have been in an unthankful mood, from somewhere in my heart there came a little whisper saying, "do it anyway..."  Here's my do it anyway list of thank yous that need to be said - anyway...

When you're alone and missing those you love, and don't really feel thankful, say it anyway.

When you're angry at all the craziness around you, and don't really feel thankful, say it anyway.

When you feel like you have absolutely nothing to be thankful for, say it anyway.

When you feel like the whole world is having a party without you, say it anyway.

When things just don't make sense anymore, say it anyway.

When you can't remember a single reason to give thanks, give it anyway.

When you are sure that God has forgotten you, say it anyway.

When you're ready to give up and throw in the towel, say it anyway.

When you wish you could find a single reason to be thankful, say it anyway.

When you are tired of all the hoopla and can't remember what the holiday is all about, say it anyway.

When you don't understand life and it seems so unfair, say it anyway.

When it feels like nobody cares, really, say it anyway.

When you're counting your blessings and drawing a blank, say it anyway.

When someone you love is dying and you can't bear their loss, say it anyway.

When you just feel like screaming, say it anyway.

When you are hurting, angry, lost, ready to give up, say it anyway...

When you've taken the last step you think you can take, take one more and say thank you anyway.

Sometimes, it's in the choice to be thankful when we least feel like it that are hearts are changed and gratitude finds a home.  No matter what, say thank you to the God who loves us when we are the least lovable.  He was alone, abandoned, lonely, forsaken, frightened, and wanting to run away.  He knows what you're going through. He loves you, anyway...

More Than Many Sparrows...

"Do not fear, therefore -
You are worth more than many sparrows..." Matthew 10:31

Who is this Jesus that I love?

The Jesus I love doesn't have long flowing girlish hair and a halo shining over His head.  He doesn't tell me to just sit back and put my feet up, because I "deserve a break today."  He doesn't cover my eyes so that I won't see the nasty things that are going on in the world today.  He doesn't promise me that I will never be hurt by any of these things because I belong to Him.  He doesn't follow the script written for Him by false teachers of a phoney gospel.  No. The Jesus I love has a radical agenda.

The Jesus I hear speaking in my ear is on fire.  He is deadly serious.  He's speaking about life and death.  He isn't "playing at religion."  He demands that we take Him seriously or not at all.  If we want an easy chair to soften our ride into heaven, sipping a Margarita while we have a mani/pedi, we're going to have to find another Jesus.  I can't squeeze the Jesus of the Gospel into the round peg so many churches have pounded out for Him.  I don't know what God they're serving, but, it isn't the One who suffered and died for me.

"Beware of false prophets who come to you in sheep's clothing,

but inwardly, they are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruit."

Matthew 7:15

This is the Jesus that captivates me -

"These twelve Jesus sent out saying: ... As you go, preach saying 'The kingdom of God is at hand. Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out demons...  Whoever will not receive you, nor hear your words... I say to you, it will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment than for that city!"  Matthew: 10: 8, 14,15 What?  Really?  My that sounds awfully harsh, doesn't it? Where is the "nice" Jesus, we've all grown to love?  The one who accepts everyone and everything and never calls a sin a sin, let alone, even thinks of sending anyone to hell, if there really is such a place! This can't be the same guy! That's right.  It isn't.  This is the real Jesus, calling us to wake up, pay attention, come out of our fairy tale and preach the real Gospel. The one that He died for, and, for many of His followers, the one they will die for also.

Here's another golden nugget from the lips of Jesus as He sent His disciples out.

"Behold I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves.  Therefore, be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.  But beware of men, for they will deliver you up to councils and beat you in the synagogues. You will be brought before kings and governors for My sake, as a testimony to them and to the Gentiles..." Matt. 10:16-18

"But when they deliver you up, do not worry about how or what you should speak.  For it will be given to you in that hour what you should speak, for it is not you who speak, but, the Spirit of your Father who speaks in you." Matt. 10: 19-20

"You will be hated by all for My name's sake, But he who endures to the end will be saved...If they have called the Master of the house Beelzebub, how much more will they call those of His household. Therefore, do not fear them, for there is nothing covered that will not be revealed and hidden that will not be known.  Matt. 10:22

"And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.  But, rather, fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell..."  Matt. 10:29

I am captivated by the Jesus who calls us with fire and passion to follow Him, to sell out to Him, to fear nothing man can do to us in this life, but to shout from the rooftops what he tells us "in the dark." I don't want to be bothered with cheap imitations of this Jesus, who is worth everything I have to follow Him.  

Believe me, I am not, by nature, a courageous person.  I run and hide when I see a spider.  Put a mouse in the room and I may die of a heart attack!  I know I am not given to this kind of courage on my own.  But, I am in love with this God who promises to be with me, to give me the words to speak, even when I am trembling for fear of my life.  

Terrorists are rampant, kings and dictators torture and kill.  Help me to remember, Lord, God, that You have called us to this glorious Gospel, for Your name's sake, "as a testimony to them..." Matt. 10:18

I don't want to chase after the wind, following a fraud of the gospel.  Give me the real Gospel.  Let me live and die on that Gospel and nothing less.

Kaleidoscope of Memories...

I see the many colors of you
Dancing on the mirror of my memory...
(a love letter to my mama)

Times have changed so much since I was a little girl and my mother was a young woman. As children, our parents are like God.  They own the world we live in and rule with ultimate control, either wisely or foolishly.  As time unfolds its secrets, like the sand washing back into the sea, we begin to see them with new eyes and realize we only see a fraction of who they were before they partnered with God to give us life.   This is a short story about my mama, a woman who was complex and difficult to get to know, even for me.  Today, I am looking into the kaleidoscope of yesterday, turning the lenses over and over, trying to bring into focus the woman I loved as my mother, but never really knew.   

As a child, I remember my mother being very beautiful.  She had creamy white skin, dotted all over in the summer with tiny, pretty freckles that covered every inch of her five foot, two inch frame.  As children, we would sit on the porch in the summer trying to count her freckles.  Impossible!  Even as we counted, the sun coaxed more pretty dots to pop out on her skin.  I always wished I had freckles like my mother.  She, of course, wished she didn’t have them and washed them away with the magic of makeup every chance she got.

Her tiny frame was topped with a gorgeous head of thick black hair that she wore piled up on her head in the style that was popular in the war years.  It was, by our standards today, a little prim, a little sexy and very, very feminine.  She knew how to be a girl and watching her, I was happy God had made me one too.  By contrast, the boys (I had four brothers) seemed to be boring, always dirty and too plain.  No makeup, no pretty dresses, no jewelry!  How they could stand not being a girl was beyond me!

The average woman in my mother’s day never spent money on “manis and pedis” – they had just come through the Great Depression and were grateful to have money to feed their children.

My mother didn’t work outside the home.  Her time was consumed trying to raise the eight children she brought into the world.

I don’t ever remember seeing my mother in a pair of jeans.  They were for the kids, not for grown women.  She mostly donned little cotton dresses “house dresses” that were simple, cheap and functional.  She was a house wife before the name became anathema to women…

Halloween was a very strange holiday back then!  Adults made costumes for the kids!  It was all about the kids, end of story!  I never, ever saw my mother dress up in a Cat Woman costume or a sexy, French maid costume for the adult Halloween party she was attending. 

When I was very young, I always walked home for lunch and sat in front of the TV watching “Uncle Jonny Coon” and eating a hot lunch my mother had prepared.  Every day, rain or shine. 

She didn’t have diamonds or rubies or, even pearls.  Where would she get the money for that?  A beautiful woman doesn’t really need those things.  A woman without beauty doesn’t gain it no matter how many jewels she wears.

There were two objects of beauty that I remember my mother treasuring.  One was a delicate blue bottle of French perfume (at least I thought it was French!)  Labeled “Midnight in Paris” it captured my imagination and gave me a love for a faraway place, somewhere across the sea, known as “Paris”!  Surely, there was simply no more romantic place anywhere on the planet!  And, somehow, my mother had a bottle of their perfume!  She must have had some secrets I didn’t know about as a little girl!

The other object of my admiration from among the things my mother owned was a winter coat, scarlet red and lined with beautiful auburn colored fur surrounding the neckline and cascading down the front.  Wearing this coat, posing next to my father who was over six feet tall, she smiled a shy smile that lit up her face with love and vulnerability.

Vulnerability.  As a child, I never saw her as vulnerable.  Or in love.  It has taken me many years to grow into an understanding that she was a little girl once too.  That she had dreams of her own and struggles as a woman and a mother, just as I do.  She was far from perfect.  She needed to be forgiven a lot.  She needed grace. As it turns out, she was just like me… 

"Honor your father and your mother..." 

Exodus 20:12

God of Everything...

Amazing Grace...

Are you the God of everything?

Or just the big important things?

Do you care when nothing goes right for me,

When I feel alone and no one sees?

Do you hear me when I curse and scream

Not caring what you think of me?

Do you turn away and shake your head

And wish that you could just forget

My name, my face, my everything?

Or do you know me inside out and upside down

Dressed in rags or in a crown?

Do you have your regrets

And I am one of them?

Or do you stoop to pick me up

And carry me when I can’t take another step?

Are you the One I’m looking for

When I have gone to bed and locked the door?

When I have given up on life

And want to die.

Are you the One who calls my name

Are you the One who takes my hand?

Are you the One I can’t forget

Are you the One whose voice I hear

Speaking my name, calling to me

With love that melts away my fear?

Are you the One who understands

What no one knows or even cares?

Are you the One

Who cries with me

When life no longer makes any sense?

When the price I paid
 Is much too much

When I no longer feel your touch?

They stole all that mattered to me today

And murdered my heart for all to see.

They laughed and laughed and laughed at me

Like so much garbage, they hated me.

Or was it you?

Are you the One they hate to see?

Are you the One,

Who won’t let go?

Who loves me when I don't love you

And forgives the unforgiveable.

I don’t understand you.

I only know

I need you, Lord

I need you now.

I need to know that you are there

When life is black and so unfair

I need to know that you won’t leave

When I lock the door and bury the key.

When life overcomes me

With grief I can’t bear

I just need to know

That you’re still there…

Note: 

This is a poem for all who are hurting tonight and for whom the light seems to have gone out. Especially for the parents of James Foley and Steven Sotloff.  And all who have lost children who have been taken too soon and for whom the pain is too much to bear.  May God comfort you and draw you very close and may you feel His love all over you...