Miracles...

"The voice of One, crying in the desert,
Make Way for the Coming of the Lord..."
Matthew: 3:3
NKJV

Zachariah (his name means "God has not forgotten")!  I love his story.  He, together with Elizabeth, are blessed to be chosen to be the mama and papa of the famous cousin of Jesus, John the Baptist. 

Miracles happened in the lives of Zachariah and Elizabeth.  When I think of that, I think, how "lucky" to use today's language, were they!  They were old and barren and didn't seem to have a chance of having a child.  And then, along comes John.  If I had been Elizabeth, I probably would have wanted to put John in a glass case and be sure he had a "perfect" and pain-free life.  I would have wanted to pick out the perfect wife for him and be sure he lived close enough for me to see my grandchildren, because, of course, he would give me some.  After all, this was the miracle I had prayed for and now that I had it, I would not easily let him go.

But the story of Zachariah and Elizabeth's miracle doesn't unfold like that,  It starts out with Zachariah being struck dumb by the Angel Gabriel because he didn't quite believe what he had been told by this angel from above.  Can we blame him?  After all, how many angels have visited your house lately (at least that you have SEEN)?

If we buy into the "prosperity" gospel of some of the TV preachers of our time, one would think that once God tuned into their need, every little thing that Zachariah and Elizabeth asked for was fulfilled in the birth of this child.  But, in fact, this was only the beginning of a long journey for them, marked with the unmistakable scourge of suffering.

Zachariah and Elizabeth were old by the time God gave them the answer to the prayer they had prayed all of their lives.  And when He finally answered them, they weren't even sure what to make of it.  Can't you just see Zachariah looking around him to see if anybody else had heard what he heard.  He is "dumbfounded" quite literally.  Isn't that just like us?  We are endlessly praying for blessing, and then, blown away when it actually happens!

I wonder sometimes, if I would want to be one of those that God blesses with miracles.  The miracle just doesn't seem to play out the way I would write it.  After all, consider what happened to the miracle of John the Baptist. 

He wanders off into the desert, abandons Mom and Dad, becomes some kind of a religious fanatic, never marries or gives them grandchildren, fails to take on a respectable career, stirs up the masses with his radical call to repentance, makes enemies of the political rulers in town and ends up being murdered ruthlessly for his efforts.  Any illusions that they had that this son would make their lives easier evaporated in the reality that this son of theirs belonged first to God and would not be content to let anyone else, including, Mom and Dad, define his calling.  Do you suppose that this was all easy for them to accept?  I doubt it.  And yet, it is this son of theirs that Jesus blesses with the proclamation that "Not one, born of woman, is greater than John the Baptist!" Matt: 11:11

No the touch of God, the answer to their prayers, the "miracle" of their son, brought to them great blessing and great heartache all at the same time.  Makes me think we need to understand God's miracles are His, not ours. 

Whenever God draws close to us and shares with us His plan, His work, His miracle, we had better be well prepared.  It will most likely involve suffering and dying to ourselves and our own desires.  Maybe that was the biggest part of this miracle.   Zachariah and Elizabeth had come to a place in their lives where they were ready to give all back to God, no matter the cost.  As a mother, I marvel at this.  Part of me wants to say, Yes, Lord.  And part of me wants to say, all but this, Lord...

Maybe I need a little more time before I'm ready for a miracle...

Eye Has Not Seen...

"Nor ear heard,
Nor has it entered into the heart of man
The things which God has prepared
For those who love Him."
1 Corinthians 2:9
NKJV

I had a dear friend once who had twin sons that were, of course, more precious than life itself to my friend. Inexplicably, one of his sons developed an extremely deadly form of cancer at the tender age of 11. From that point on, life was never the same. My friend rode an emotional roller coaster for well over two years. Just when the family was broken and unable to take another step, a miraculous drug would turn the tables of fortune and, what seemed a hopeless situation turned on its head and the child rallied to what seemed like a cure. Then, after months of “normal” health and childhood vitality, the disease came roaring back with a ferocity that threatened to crush my friend under its reign of terror.

Once again, my friend was caught in the merciless grasp of an enemy that kept appearing in new clothes with a new, more threatening voice, as if to say, “You will never escape, you will never escape... I have you. You will never escape...” Eventually, on the threshold of his graduation from grade school, my friend's son lost his battle and the Lord took him home. My friend was devastated.

I watched this unfolding tragedy with horror. There was nothing I could say to comfort my friend. He was inconsolable. He blamed himself for not being able to protect his son. As if he had willfully chosen to abandon his son when he was most needed. Nothing could have been farther from the truth. No. This father stayed at the side of his son through every excruciating minute of his illness. He never lost hope. He never gave up. He was faithful.

What does God have to say to us about these kind of moments in our lives, that define our lives by the immensity of their impact?  I have stood by the bedside of my own parents as they wrestled and fought against illnesses that took their lives. I have wept at the loss of my own child, much wanted and dearly loved, gone before I ever got to hold him in my arms. I have experienced losses in my life that I never talk about to anyone. They are carried in the silence of my heart, where only God knows the depth of pain their loss has meant to me.

When something happens in my life that tears the blister off the old wound, and I am brought back to the pain as if it were yesterday, I run to the Lord and tell Him the story that has broken my heart all over again. He never stops receiving me into His arms. He never turns His back to me, wondering when I will ever “get over it”. He never says, He's heard it all before and doesn't want to hear it again. No. He understands completely. He weeps with me. He gathers me in His arms and carries me. He looks upon me with the compassion of a Father who never stops loving His child. He waits for me to catch my breath. He loves me “until I can be me again...”

At moments like these, there are no words to speak that make any sense.  I am speechless in the face of life's unanswerable questions.  All I want to do is draw closer and closer to the One who holds the answers.  I want to hear Him speak.  I want to know that He is with me, no matter how alone I feel.  I want to know He understands what I have no words to express.  In the depths of suffering that silences my voice, I want to hear Him speak...

                            

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...

With Lovingkindness Have I Drawn You...

"The Lord has appeared of old to me, saying,
Yes, I have loved thee with an everlasting love;
Therefore, with lovingkindness have I drawn you..."
Jeremiah 31: 3

If God is Good is the title of a new book by Randy Alcorn. I am wading my way through this challenging book and hope to bring to this blog some of the issues he discusses regarding the very human questions we ask when we encounter evil. 

If God is Good, the skeptic will say, how can there be evil in the world? If He is all powerful, why doesn't He intervene? If He loves us, how can He allow us to suffer? We can avoid the questions and throw scriptures at the dissenter to silence them, but, when suffering hits us directly, when pain overwhelms our senses, when unimagined evil invades our own lives, we struggle to find an answer that calms our fears and satisfies our trembling heart.

For anyone who has suffered from pain and suffering without understanding why; for those who have suffered the severing of a relationship that was more precious than life; for those who have never experienced the joy of human love that was their birthright; for those who cannot even imagine a God who loves them, I hope to bring to this blog the reality of God's unspeakable love for you, no matter what.

I do not speak to you from “above the fray.” I speak to you as one who has been there myself. I have had my own struggles, my own fears, my own doubts. I have wondered, especially regarding children, how could a loving God allow a child to be born to abusive parents? If God is love, where is He when an innocent child is trashed and beaten by the very parents that were supposed to protect him? Where is God? He knew before hand that this would happen in this child's life. Why did He allow it? Would it not have been better for the child to never have been born? Pro-abortion proponents have used this as an argument to end the life of the child. Even Job, in the depths of his suffering, cried out that he should never have been born. (Job 3:1)

As I was wrestling with my own doubts recently, I asked God that very question, He shocked me with His answer. “I looked beyond the pain and saw a child I would call My own...” That's what He told me. He so deeply wanted a love relationship with the child that He gave him the opportunity to breath – to live – to find God along the way and fall head over heals in love with Him. To have a love relationship with the Father that transcends any evil that he/she would ever experience in this life. To live with Him, in the shelter of His love forever, no matter what happens this side of heaven.

Does God see us when we are abused, rejected, treated with cruelty by those we thought would love us? Does He care? Or, is He the author of the abuse? I believe He sees us and He loves us more than we can even begin to understand. He is with us in it all. He is irrevocably on our side. He is praying for us. He is drawing us closer and closer to Himself. Sometimes, it is exactly because of the pain that we begin to turn to Him for comfort in our agony.

This is not a fairy tale. This is Truth speaking to us over the Lie. This is the triumph of good over evil. Of love over hate. Of hope over despair. This is the God who loves you...

Precious to the Lord

I have a dear friend who is suffering from cancer and the radical effects of the chemotherapy that she is taking to kill the cancer. I have listened to her describe the effects of the chemo and how it has devastated her body, even while it's being used to overcome the disease that could take her life.

As someone who has never gone through what she is enduring, it has shocked me to hear her describe the effects of her treatment on her body and how drastically it has changed her life from day to day.

As I have prayed for her, searching for how to pray, what to say, how to comfort her, how to minister to her, I have felt the reality that so much of this is beyond our ability to deal with on a human level. I cannot take away the pain or relieve the suffering or wave a magic wand to make this disease go away. Well intentioned christian platitudes that do not acknowledge this reality are not helpful. I ask myself, as believers in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, is that all we have? Or does the Gospel make a difference when we are going through a trial that saps every ounce of our energy and leaves us clinging to life by a thread? It has to be the hope of the Gospel that tells us, no matter what we are going through, Jesus Christ is in the room. He has not abandoned us to endure this devastation all alone. He has a tight, tight grip on us. He will not let us go.

It is the beauty of a Savior that loves us enough to enter into our pain with us that quickens my heart. This is not a Savior who does not know our pain, our suffering. A God who does not care. He comes right into the sick room, sits down on the bed, and takes us by the hand. He does not stand afar off. He has not forgotten us. He sees our pain, he understands our grief and our confusion. 'Lord what is happening to me? My body isn't my own anymore. It has betrayed me. I don't even recognize myself anymore. I can't handle the pain... Please help me, I'm falling – I'm frightened – this is not what I want...' He hears you, He sees you, He cares more deeply than your closest friend or loved one. I believe He feels every pain with you, cries with you, fights for you, and intercedes for you at the Throne of the Father.

Jesus is holding onto you, my dear friend. He has His arms around you, even if you cannot feel them. He is whispering encouragement and singing a love song over you. He is saying, “I love you, I love you, I love you. You are more precious to Me than you can possibly know. For you, I went to the cross. For you, I have purchased an eternity that is free of suffering and full of joy. Hold onto Me, my child. Don't try to figure it out. Don't try to master it. Just know that you are not defined by this cancer. You are defined by My love for you. You are not just someone with cancer. You are so much more than that to Me. You are My daughter. I have sought you, I have purchased you with My blood, and you belong to Me. I put My love on you, My child. And I haven't taken it away, even in the midst of this dark trial. I delight in you. I know this is impossibly difficult for you. It's OK to admit that. I never intended that you should suffer this all alone. Do not be deceived by the fiery trial you are going through. I am right here. I am with you. Lean into Me right now. You don't have to be strong. I have you covered. I am the One Who Comforts you, strengthens you, holds you in My arms when you are too weak to stand. I Am with you. I will never leave you. I still recognize you...You are mine. I love you. More than you can know.”

Scripture Reference: Isaiah 53:4   NKJV

“Surely, He has borne our grief and carried our sorrows...”

Rivers of Joy

Many years ago, when I was going through the heartache of a painful divorce, a very dear friend gave me a wall plaque with the words “The Joy of the Lord is your Strength.” (Nehemiah 8:10)  I wondered what in the world that meant to me, as I struggled to come to terms with the harsh realities of divorce and single parenthood. Joy was the last thing on my mind.

I dismissed my friend's gift, deciding that, although she meant well, she just didn't have a clue what I was going through. On the contrary, she most certainly did. She saw the pain written all over me and came to me in a spirit of love and generosity that was so characteristic of her as a friend. She sat with me, and she cried with me, deeply joining me in my grief. But, she refused to leave me there.

She called me to come out of my despair and self-pity and choose instead to “Count It All Joy.” (James 1:2)

It's easy to embrace joy when everything is going right, the sun is shining, we are healthy, the bills are paid, and life is good. But, what happens when life “blows up” on us and everything is up for grabs?

Life can change in an instant. We get a dreaded diagnosis from the doctor, we lose our job, we lose our house, or, worse yet, we lose someone we dearly love through death or divorce. Where is the joy then?

In my own life, these kind of crises have visited me more than once. Ever so slowly, I have learned that I could choose to be buried in the grief and pain - or I could choose joy. I could pray that God would fill me to overflowing with His joy, in spite of the circumstances. That He would surround me with friends that wouldn't allow me to sink into self-pity. I could pray that He would draw close to me and, especially in those painful times, 'The Joy of the Lord' would be my strength...

I have found Him to be faithful, beyond measure, to answer those prayers. He knew, as my friend did, that I would have to choose joy in those moments when I would rather not.

My friend lovingly called me out of my misery to look for my Redeemer. She taught me not to bury all of life's goodness in the grave of despair. With a gentle push to look to the Lord as The Source of My Strength and My Joy, she taught me to listen for His still, small voice, over the screaming voices of pain and heartache.

It is so often in the middle of a heartbreaking or frightening crisis in my life that I hear Him calling me to come a little closer and let Him carry me into the River of Joy...

Scripture Reference: Zephaniah 3:17

“The Lord your God is in your midst,

The Mighty One will save,

He will rejoice over you with gladness,

He will quiet you with His love...”

It's Gonna Be Alright...

I love the childlike beauty of this artwork and the simple message of faith and hope that is in the music by Sara Groves.   This is for all of you who are going through a crisis, large or small, that shocks you at times and at other times scares you half to death. Holding on to Faith is sometimes hard to do when we're scared, or sick, or out of a job, or grieving the loss of someone we love.   In those moments of fear and dread of what's coming next, how much we need the faith of friends and family to surround us and lift us up in prayer to the Source of our Hope and Strength. Because, sometimes, we're just too weak to do it on our own. Scripture Reference: 1 Peter 5:7  NKJV "CAST ALL YOUR CARE UPON HIM, FOR HE CARES FOR YOU."

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...