Press on to Acknowledge the LORD!

Press on...

Lately things have been pretty tough in my little corner of the world.  Maybe compared to some others, my troubles would seem like nothing, but, to me, they have brought me down, fried me, inside and out, and left me feeling like a kissing cousin to Job.  I won't bore you with the details of my trials and tribulations, because I'm sure you have enough of your own. But, suffice it to say, I have struggled to put one foot in front of the other lately. Sometimes, I was so miserable, I couldn't see the truth of God's love surrounding me.  I couldn't hear His voice calling out to me to come and rest in Him.  I forgot my identity as a treasured daughter of the Lord.  In many ways, I was numb.  And that was a better alternative than feeling anything. Because then, I felt the pain.  

I thought it was the pain of the loss of a loved family member, followed by the pain of family wars that divided us further, followed by the loss of a dream I was treasuring that fell by the wayside, followed by housing problems where I live that made me not even want to go home, followed by financial stress brought on by the housing problems and on and on and on.  Job, I decided, had nothing on me.  I knew exactly how he felt.

In the midst of all the struggles just to get up in the morning, God sent me a tremendous blessing through the hands and love of some of my children.  It amazed me and touched me how tenderly God ministered to me through the love of my daughter and her husband. But, almost as quickly as the blessing came, I fell back into a morose, dark foreboding, as if God had abandoned me.  In spite of all evidence to the contrary, I knew I was all alone and nobody cared.  Where did I get that idea?  Whose voice was I listening to?

Mercifully, God breathed His love so directly on my face, I could not miss the sunshine of His grace. I finally realized that God was loving me through it all.  He had never lost sight of me, abandoned me, thrown me overboard, or left me for dead.  He hadn't done any of that.  I had.  I had decided that I would listen to the wrong voice, follow the wrong signs, go in the wrong direction, abandon the lessons He has so lovingly and tenderly taught me.  I chose to leave Him, not the other way around. When I read the book of Hosea, a picture of God so patiently and painfully calling out to Israel to return to Him, I hear Him calling to me.  It's still the same today, thousands of years later, isn't it? We are so capable of leaving Him behind when we are hurting, to seek comfort in the wrong places.  

How lovingly, how faithfully, how constantly, how patiently, how tenderly, but, firmly, He called to me by name and drew me back to Him.  As soon as I turned toward Him and saw the beauty of His face smiling down on me, all of the pain dissipated.  It was Him I needed, plain and simple.  It was Him.  His presence. His love. His tender mercies.  Nothing else comes close.  Nothing else.

I have not enjoyed the storm I have been through.  I really haven't. But, I am learning to be grateful for the rough winds and the turbulent sea that brought me to my Savior.  "Rock of Ages, cleft for me. Let me hide myself in Thee..."

All My Yesterdays...

"I, even I, am He who comforts you..."
Isaiah 51:12
NKJV

I have often stood outside yesterday's picture window, peering in like a stranger wishing I could enter in.

Isn't there a cozy fire flickering in the fire place? Doesn't it light up the faces of the family gathered together lovingly by its side? Don't I hear loving, kind, encouraging words spoken here? Aren't everyone's needs met in this idyllic little cottage? Isn't this a safe harbor from the cold, frigid storm that lies just outside it's doors? Don't I remember how much I loved growing up in this story book family where everyone's needs were met and no-one was ever hurt or left out? Why can't I keep this picture in focus? Whose house is this really? Whose family? I'm having trouble seeing them clearly...

The truth is, looking back, I know we were hardly the perfect, “Father Knows Best” family that was idealized on T.V. in the '50s. No, we didn't even have a fire place. We sometimes didn't even have heat on cold winter nights. My father wasn't sitting in the big stuffed chair, smoking his pipe and reading the newspaper. He was working the midnight shift in one of the roughest neighborhoods in Chicago. My mother often couldn't hide her fear that she didn't have enough money to put dinner on the table for her children. Pregnant with her eighth child, a good practicing Catholic, where was the church when it came to feeding the babies they told her she must have? I could tell, even as a young child, she often felt alone in dealing with these things. Yes, where was the Church...?

A better question really is, where was God? Was He on vacation? Was He sitting on the beach with His feet up getting a nice sun tan? Had he taken a job on the other side of the world and was now too busy to keep up with our needs? Was He taking a nap? Or, worst of all, did He just not care?

It took me a long time to settle some of those questions. My memories kept demanding answers. I don't have them all, even today. I probably won't have them either, until I sit across from  My Savior on the porch in heaven and have the chance to look into His eyes and ask Him directly, did you care? 

But, I can already see Him staring back at me, with love filling up the space between us. I can see Him. He has scars on His forehead where thorns once pierced His flesh. He has holes in the palms of His hands and the soles of His feet where nails were hammered in. He has a gaping gash in His side where a spear entered where it never should have gone.  No.  I guess it's undeniable that He didn't take the easy road Himself when He decided to redeem you and me.

What is there left to say? Yes. He cares. I know He cares. He cares for me and He cares for you. You can rest all of your yesterdays and all of your tomorrows in the certain knowledge that He cares. And He will “wipe away every tear from your eyes...” (Rev. 21:4)   I'm counting on it...

May God give you and me the strength and grace to face whatever it is that is overwhelming us today. May He be with you and with me in all of our tomorrows...

Standing in the Need of Grace...

I reached for You when I was lonely,

Pushed You away when I was hurting.

I rejected who You are.

I screamed at You for leaving me alone and fearful for my life.

I blamed You for my screw-ups and all my failures too.

I kicked You when You touched me and rejected Your embrace.

I swore at You profanities, I decided You deserved.

I ran from You,

I hid from You.

I bartered You away.

I covered my eyes when You went by and looked the other way.

I mocked You.

I spat my hatred in Your face, every chance I got.

I ignored You, denied I ever knew You.

I worshiped other gods before You, stole Your glory for my own.

I cursed You for not loving me the way that I defined.

I heard You knocking at the door and locked it even tighter.

I covered my ears to keep from hearing You calling out my name.

I played religious games with You and thought You'd never see.

I so much wanted to hurt You for what they did to me.

Where were You Lord, when I was lost?

When those I loved ignored me, rejected and abused me?

Did you stand by and watch from a distance, enjoying all You saw?

Where were You, Lord? Where were You?

Did You love me then as now?

Did You see my heart was breaking -

I wonder, did You care?

I kicked at Him and screamed at Him

Until I couldn't fight Him anymore.

He followed me, He followed me,

He chased me everywhere.

He loved me, He loved me

He bled with me, He hurt with me,

He came inside my pain.

He washed my wounds and covered me

With love that never fails.

It never seemed to bother Him

That I rejected Him to choose instead my sin.

He covered me over with His love

He pulled me to Him constantly

And understood my need.

How desperate was my ache for Him

But I could not find a way,

To tell Him that I needed Him

I didn't know what to say...

He wrapped His arms around me.

He knew my need before I spoke.

He chased me down, He captured me,

He loved me anyway...

I wondered how it was

this God that I abhorred

Could ever have pursued me

or loved me anymore?

I am the one He rescued

When I didn't have a plea...

I will praise His name forever

That He loved someone like me...

Scripture Reference: Psalm 107:2    NKJV

“Let the Redeemed of the Lord say so...”

Out of the Pit...

I knew a little girl once, growing up in poverty. She didn't live in China or Africa. She lived in the United States of America. I know they say poverty doesn't exist in America. But I know it does. I've seen it with my own eyes. Maybe you have too. Maybe, this little girl lived right down the street from you...

You might have seen her on her way to school. She had big holes in her shoes. She made cardboard cutouts to fit inside the shoes to keep the cold and water out. She really didn't even have her own shoes. Her family couldn't afford them, so she wore the shoes her sister had outgrown. You could tell they weren't hers. They were two sizes too big for her. Her hands and face were always a bright cherry red in the dead of winter. She didn't own a scarf or gloves.

She always went to school hungry. There was nothing to eat for breakfast before school most days. Many nights, her mother fixed bread and butter sandwiches with a bit of sugar on top for dinner. That kept the wolves at bay. Her mother didn't "work". Unless you count the eight children she was struggling to raise. She wasn't a single mom. She had a husband. It just didn't make much difference. He was a young veteran who had fought in the war and then returned to a country that had no job for him. He sank below the poverty line and took his family with him.

Most nights you would find him trying to bury his fears at the corner tavern down the street. She was often told to "Go get daddy." Mommy needed him. It was a frightening place for a child of eight to enter. It was so dark. So noisy. So many men talking funny and looking at her in strange ways. Like any child, frightened by a world she didn't understand, she searched for the safety of her father. She didn't care that he seemed not to recognize her when she found him. She didn't mind that he walked funny and leaned on her when they were walking home. She was just happy she had found him and he was coming home.

When he did come home, though, he carried his fears with him, along with his anger. Rage really. Sheer rage. All the hopelessness and despair of not knowing what to do to care for his family erupted in an out-of-control rage that threatened to crush the life of this family. Life is overwhelming in these kind of circumstances. Especially, for a child.

You may have guessed by now. Yes, I was that child. It was a difficult and, sometimes, terrifying way to grow up. I don't share this with you to evoke your sympathy. But, to simply say that, into the midst of this despairing and angry world came Jesus. He walked right into the darkness and fear and plucked that little girl right out of the enemy's hands and claimed her for His own. Another time, I'll have to tell you how that happened. But, for now, I just want you to know. He came after me and sought me when no-one else knew or cared how lost I was. If He did it for me, I know beyond the shadow of a doubt, He will do it for you.

There is no place too dark, too dirty, too poor, too ugly, too anything, that He will not go to find you. He loves you. No matter what...

Scripture Reference: Psalm 40: 2

"He brought me up out of a terrible pit,
Out of the miry clay,
And set my feet upon a rock,
And established my steps."

Christian Hymn: "He Hideth My Soul" by Fannie Crosby

"He hideth my soul, in the cleft of the Rock
that shadows a dry, thirsty land;

He hideth my life in the depths of His love,
And covers me there with His hand,
And covers me there with His hand..."

He Counts the Stars

She sits by the window and waits to see my car in the parking lot. Before I get to my apartment, she is on the phone to "check" on me. I am tired. I am not in the mood to be needed by anyone but me tonight. I call her back and try to rationalize that I have done what was required and I can go about my business now. But, I can't ignore the aching loneliness in her voice. I take a deep breath and tell her I will be right down. I want to see how she is.

At 75, a widow and mother of an adopted son who never comes to visit, she is, like so many today, abandoned when she most needs to be loved and cared for.

I have only known her for a couple of years, and yet, I seem to be her closest friend. I smile patiently as she tells me the same story for the hundreth time. She lives in the past victories of her life. That's so much easier for her to think about than the painful realities of her life as it is today.

She falls repeatedly. This time she cracked her head open and spent the night in the emergency room getting stitches in her head. Last Christmas, she broke a bone in her back and 3 ribs. I realize watching her that I have come to love this dear, frail, sickly woman like my own mother.

Instinctively, I reach for her and beg her to listen to her doctor and use a walker to protect her from falling. My emotions catch me by surprise. I hate to cry in public, but here I am with tears coming unbidden into my eyes. With a voice shaking with the sudden realization that she may not make it through another winter, I tell her, I just don't want 'anything' to happen to her... She sees my heart and smiles at the love that is on display toward her. She reassures me that she "isn't going anywhere" - she has decided to live to be 114! She's just "too ornery" to die!

But, God is whispering to my heart - she is close to the end. He invites me to be faithful to stay close to this little lamb that the Shepherd sees and loves and wants to bring home. Witness to her, Maureen. She needs her Savior.

I hate the pain I see all around me. So many people are hurting, wounded, abandoned, alone. Why? Does God see? Does He care? Really?

He speaks to me of the depth of His love and understanding for my friend and others like her who are suffering. Some physically, some emotionally, some spiritually. He leads me to the Psalms, where I always find Him comforting and loving me with His Word, spoken to a broken and wounded world. I find myself grasping onto the promise of His Word in Psalm 147: 3-4

"He heals the brokenhearted
and binds up all their wounds.
He counts the number of the stars;
He calls them all by name..."

My dear friend isn't abandoned. The same God who "counts the stars and calls them all by name" is right there with her. And you. And me.

I commit you to Him tonight. He sees you. He loves you. He will meet you in your every need...