Tag: God

Advent 17: Peace on Earth

Part of what set me up to make the poorest decisions in my life was buying into the lie of “peace at any price.” I learned, and quite painfully, that there is no such thing because it really is not peace and we pay way too high a price.

And yet I still believe in and crave peace. I avoid conflict whenever I can. But I am not a pacifist. I am a peacemaker.

When the angel chorus delivered their message to the shepherds, they sang of peace on earth. And the crowd heard a very different message than what God intended. They took it to mean an end to strife and hardship and oppressive rule.

God had something very different in mind. Paul tried to clear up the confusion in his letter to the church at Ephesus. He wrote: “For he himself is our peace, who made both groups into one, broke down the barrier of the dividing wall…that in Himself He might make the two into one new man, thus establishing peace.” (Ephesians 2:14, NASB.)

There were so many divisions between the people. The mission of Christmas is to heal those separations. God wanted peace not pieces. God wanted to bring his people back together and back to him.

Will you take some time to examine what divides your heart, what separates you from others, what keeps you from God.

His gift for you is peace: wholeness in life, not pieces formed by divisions.

Today I want to close with my favorite Christmas song and a prayer that God will heal the brokenness that divides so you will know peace.

Advent 14: Christmas Cookies

I love Christmas cookies. I love cookie exchanges.

My mom never made Christmas cookies–any cookies, actually. It wasn’t until I was in Girl Scouts that I ever iced sugar cookies.

Did I mention I love cookies? I don’t think I ever met a problem a Doule Stuff Oreo (or whole bag) couldn’t solve. I have eaten way more than my fair share in my fifty-six years.

Last Christmas a friend invited me over to decorate cookies. It sounded like fun so I showed up. She had several bowls of homemade icing and trays and trays of cut-out cookies in all the traditional Christmas shapes.

I sat down at the table and very carefully and gingerly began to ice and decorate with sprinkles.

She laughed at me. Then she asked me what I was doing.

I looked at her rather shocked at first. I mean, what did it look like I was doing. Then it dawned on me that she had finished decorating a half dozen cookies to my one. I was so afraid to “mess up” that I was not enjoying the experience at all. My perfectionism was totally tying me up and shutting me down.

My friend then very quickly went to work assuring me that there was no wrong way to do this. She’s a very wise woman. I decided to believe her. The result was that we had a fun time. In the end there were plenty of iced cookies and neither of us were fretting about the icing or sprinkles on the table…I don’t think we were fretting at all.

And a truth seed was planted in my heart that brought a breath of freedom into my life.

Too often my perfectionistic roots strangle my creativity, my living, and living life to its fullest (See John 10:10). I have noticed that I’m not alone in this as I have listened to friends discuss their struggle with finding and doing God’s will…his perfect will.

Choices that I made in my life really messed things up for me. I was afraid life was over. Somehow I thought that life progressed in a straight line moving up. But it looked more like a jumbled mess.

What if the truth is that God loves us enough to let us make mistakes? What if there isn’t one plan/path and if we don’t find it and only walk down that one and instead meander a little? What if there isn’t one perfect job, but a series of jobs where we have the opportunity to touch many lives and make a difference in many places? What if there isn’t one perfect mate, but more than one…or none?

There are those who would consider such thinking blasphemous. I wonder what they do when the cords get jumbled up?

There is a verse that is often quoted from Jeremiah: For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11)

There is certainly comfort in that verse…but it’s also pretty vague. And when you put it in context it’s even more interesting. Go ahead read the whole chapter.

Life is not always neat and tidy. Sometimes it’s jumbled up. Sometimes it’s even messier than a table after preschoolers attempt to decorate Christmas cookies. But God is still there. He’s still planning for hope and a future. He can make something beautiful if you’ll ease up and let him.

He is after all, the one who promised to give us life…life to the fullest.

Advent 7: Comfort

What brings you comfort?

Watching my mom fix brekfast this morning I realized her predictable ways are very comforting to me.

This revelation came as I watched her open a can of pineapple. She opened the can over the sink–just in case there was spiilage. Then she set it on the counter, on a washcloth she had laid there to catch any drips.

That’s how she is: always thinking ahead…anticipating need.

As I sat there watching, I actually thought about how much that’s like God. Remember he’s the great shepherd who provide for our very need. He is always one step ahead of us, anticipating not only what we need, but also the messes we might make.

Then I began to think about the implications of that for Advent and the whole no room in the inn thing. It was no mistake the Mary and Joseph delivered God’s son in a stable, because if God had wanted he could have made room in the inn.

God anticipated their need and provided. Jesus wasn’t born along the road in the middle of the night. No, he was born in a stable out of the elements and with a cradle of sorts.

Sometimes God’s ways confuse me. Both then and now. But they also bring bring me comfort. God anticipates my every need and though he takes m edown paths I don’t understand I know he does indeed lead me where I need to be.

And I don’t know about your life but he has always been faithful to stay right by me as we put the pieces back together. He wastes nothing…even using the messes I have made.

So as you sing carols about the comfort of God, remember that comfort may not come as you expect or want it, but it will come. You willhave exactly what you need.

Advent 5: Stop Talking

On a recent flight to Arizona to visit my mom, I sat behind two twenty something men. For the entire two hour flight they spent the time talking. Well, not just talking. They were talking loudly, but it wasn’t just the volume that was annoying. No. Their conversation consisted of a continuous one-up-man-ship. I finally put my headphones on so I wouldn’t have to listen.

Have you been around people who just talk to talk? They say very little that seems important, but they have such a need to say it.

One of the parts of the Christmas story that has always intrigued me involves Zechariah and the Angel. The Angel comes with some really good news and instead of accepting it, Zechariah choses to question the Angel: How? And for that he is silenced until after the baby is born.

There obviously is a time to speak and a time to listen. Did you know the word “listen” occurs 506 times in the Bible (according to biblegateway.com and the NIV)? Jesus made several of those references: Let the one who has ears hear.

Last time I checked, that’s just about everybody.

We have helped raise our grandson. I find myself often telling him to stop talking. His constant jibber or rebuttle during correction is not good. Often if he would just stop talking he would avoid trouble. The only times he has moved down on the behavior scale at school have been because he was talking when he shouldn’t.

Picture with me what it would be like if we did less talking this Advent. What would it be like if we listened more? Listened to each other…to God.

We might actually understand why God through the Psalmist instructed us to: Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10)

How ’bout you go first. I’m all ears.

Advent 2013: In the Fullness of Time


My life used to be much fuller. I worked two full-time jobs. I had two teenage daughters. I was a wife. I tried to keep house. For a while we also added foster children to that mix.

Life was busy. Full of things. Broad, but not deep. My motto might have been, “so much to do, so little time.” That is if I had stopped long enough to consider a motto.

Life has swiftly moved on. My daughters are now mothers–both over thirty. The movement has been a journey and a process. In the process, I have slowed down. And as a result, life is richer. I find moments to be treasure-worthy. It’s not all good, but it’s good.

Earlier in my life, when I read the Christmas story and came upon the phrase: in the fullness of time, I took it to mean full in the sense of crammed to the brim–and I lived my life accordingly.

I was wrong.

The phrase means: when the time was right, or ripe.

I don’t fully understand what made that time “right” in God’s eyes. What I do know is in my own life, God is never early nor late. I may want him to come sooner, do something sooner. change things now–but I have come to trust two things completely: if things don’t happen on my time table, then God is still working things out; and he is absolutely trustworthy.

When things come together we often say the time was right. We are often in the right spot at the right time–or not. It’s the right time to get married, to have a child, to buy a car. The stars align. The market is favorable. We can identify physical markers and emotional leanings–so why would we be surprised when God says, “It’s time.”

And that’s how we are invited into this Advent season. However full or empty our world seems, it’s just right for God to work. With the same child-like excitement that builds toward opening Christmas presents, let’s anticipate the gift God has for us.

Show Up

I started reading a book today, God Time, 75 Biblical Meditations On Time and History, by Edwin Walhout. I’ll admit I picked it up because it was free and I was getting bored with the devotions I started the year with. Bored is not good as it results in my avoiding reading devotionally, which is spiritual suicide for me.

I didn’t past the second page before my mind started clicking and pulling thoughts together. I haven’t read far enough to really recommend it, but is definitely starting well.

Edwin begins at the beginning (which according to Julie Andrews “is a very good place to start”) by considering Moses take on creation and how he teaches us to theists. In that discussion he says this, “…every person is part of the developing plan of God.”

Two trains took off in my brain with this one thought. Perhaps you can catch one.

The first thing that came to me was how important we are to God’s plan. I was in several plays and drama productions throughout my years of school and college–even later in church productions. Rehearsals always best when all the actors are present. Lines run smoother and staging makes sense. I learned the same thing participating in marching band. Spacing and formations can all messed up when someone is missing. And we all know that choirs and symphonies just don’t sound the same when all the parts aren’t performing together.

Every person has a part in the developing plan of God.

I didn’t always get the role I wanted. But my role was important or it wouldn’t have been in the script–an editor would have made sure of that.

And that leads me to the other train. Every person. I may not understand how that other person got a part, but they did. Every person. The ones I like and relate to. The ones I can hug. The ones like me. And the ones who aren’t. Every person. All the ugly, hate-full, arrogant, selfish, and scary people have a part to play as well.

So it’s not my place to question the One who is writer, director, and editor. Every person has a role, a purpose. How will I receive them? How will I interact. Each person touches my life for a reason, a season. How I play my part will impact others, too.

Life is God’s grand drama. And you and I have our parts to play. I’m going to show up and do my part. How about you?

Surrender

We started our study of Conrad Gempf’s book, Mealtime Habits of the Messiah in our Sunday school class last Sunday. And as I suspected, we didn’t get very far, very fast. In fact, we only got through half of the introduction. Lest you wonder…this is a good thing. There was much discussion and participation. Our class has grown so much that we have to find a better way to squeeze us in–such a glorious problem!

So while I was studying and preparing for the upcoming class the topic of surrender was mentioned…but the way my mind stuck on it you would have thought that it was the main theme. Rumination at its best.

Surrender. Not a popular word. Somehow it has become the definition of weakness, of defeat. We don’t want to surrender to our enemies, our spouse, our boss, our grandchildren. And yet we daily surrender to our passions, our obsessions, our addictions. Go figure.

For a bit, I want to focus on what surrender means in the spiritual sense…at least for me.

Here’s the problem as I see it: we think surrender means giving away everything and getting nothing. And somehow in that process I get lost…the me that I am, is gone. If I surrender to my spouse I cease to exist and it’s only them. If I surrender to God…then there’s no me. And we can’t fathom not being. That’s why we fight death so fiercely.

Until we begin to understand God, this surrender thing makes him seem like some cosmic terrorist: why surrender? He’s just going to kill us anyway.

Our thinking is really twisted…thanks to the great deceiver and the work he’s been at since the garden. See, he started his number on the first folks, Adam and Eve–and primarily Eve. His job has been to distort God’s purposes and He’s really quite good at it and we’re really quite sucked into it. His opening remarks were to twist the words and purpose of God’s reasoning. “Did God really say that?” “I’m sure that’s not what he meant.” And then she bit and bought the apple.

What does this have to do with surrender? Everything. We think everything is ours and to get a piece of God we have to give it all up. As if to hold God in my hands I have to lay my stuff down. And there in, or in there, lies the problem.

Nothing I have is mine. It may be in my possession, but it doesn’t belong to me. Having trouble with that? I understand. I was dealing with my grandson on the concept just the other day. He was playing with a neighbor boy, who happens to remind me of Eddie Haskill (if you don’t remember Leave it to Beaver, go look it up on youtube). He’s older than my grandson and constantly tries to take advantage of his naivety. Especially when it comes to trading. (This is a boy concept which I don’t get very well.) Eddie-boy tries to grandson to give him something or things and in return gives him junk that he tries to pawn off as really great stuff. Grandson wants to be friends with Eddie-boy so he goes along with it.

This trading isn’t too big a problem until grandson starts to trade off the stuff that we have paid for (aka: of high value to us as it should be to him). That’s when I step in as the enforcer and put the kibosh to the whole thing. The last incident left grandson in tears and confused and me trying to explain. I wanted grandson to know that we provide these things for him so that he will have things to do and play with while he is at our house (daily). He is allowed to play with them and in some sense they are his things, but they don’t belong to him. He is also charged with the care of these things.

The more I thought about this, the more I realized that this is how God sees things, too. He provides it all–but it’s still his. All he asks is that we acknowledge that and take care of it.

I think that was why the Rich Young Ruler (see Mark 10:17-27) had such a hard time when Jesus told him to sell all that he “possessed” and give it to the poor. He didn’t really understand who the true owner, possessor, was. He really bought the lie (of the evil one), and thought he owned it. He thought to give it, to surrender, meant that he would lose it all. As if to think that God really needed his possessions? I don’t need to own all my grandson’s toys. In fact, when he’s grown and gone, so will the toys. It would just be nice if he recognized the provision occasionally, but that might be a lot to expect from a seven year old.

But we’re adults and it seems to be what God is asking of us.

Could this be what Paul was saying to the Romans (Romans 12:1-2) when he describes our reasonable service/sacrifice as one that is living? He says God wants a living sacrifice. That is what is holy and pleasing to him. Too often we think we quit living if we surrender.

(I just had a moment…a thought…I was thinking about Abraham offering Isaac. There seems to be some parallels. Would God have allowed Abraham to kill Isaac? Or was he wanting to see if Abe would give, surrender his son–give back to God what ultimately was his anyway? Going to have to think on this some more.)

If you’re still reading along with me, then you have exceeded blogdom’s suggested word count and I thank you. Let me hasten to close…

Surrender is not to be feared or avoided. In many ways it reminds me of how I define confession: agreeing and owning what God already knows about me. Surrender is recognizing who truly owns everything and receiving it back as a trust–whether it’s my life, my money, my toys…you fill in the blank. I’m not, you’re not, the owner, but the steward.

And here’s a thought: God trusts you with his very best and treasured possessions. How will that impact your living?

The Message in the Silence

This morning my daughter posted this on Facebook: Why is it that your kids don’t seem to hear you unless your yelling at them, but then they give you that pouty face that makes you feel sick for having yelled at them so they’d finally listen?! Being a parent sucks!

I will admit that my first thought was to smile, thinking of all the yelling I did when she was my strong willed always right closed minded child. We raise them to be independent and have opinions. We just don’t realize that they’re going to develop those so early and with such strength.

Reading her post got me thinking about my own childhood. My mother wasn’t a yeller. That’s not to say she couldn’t—I received my share of loud scoldings. My mother had three other weapons in her arsenal that often left me wishing she was a yeller. First, she was the master (perhaps even the inventor) of “the look.” No word needed to be spoken; message received loud and clear: cease or die. What was most amazing to me was when she used it on other kids at stores or other public places and they got the message too!

The second tool that my mother relied on was action. We knew that mom would not hesitate to use whatever was at hand or just her hand to make her point. This resulted in my brother getting konked on the head the telephone receiver when was making too much noise while she was on the phone (phone calls were typically fewer and much more important back in the day). Hair brushes, yardsticks, and those stupid paddle ball paddles—looking back I now see why she was always willing to give into that childish indulgence as we checked out at the store. You think we might have put that together better.

But the most effective tool in my mother’s parental arsenal was silence. Silence typically conveyed one of two messages, both extreme. She was either extremely disappointed or so angry that if she said anything she would have exploded. This final weapon was so powerful that it always got our attention and resulted in our praying for the silence to end.

As I am writing this, I am on the mend from a very weird and pain-filled three weeks. I progressed from swollen feet to extremely swollen feet and ankles and pain while walking to nodules all over my legs and arms and in my joints (elbows, wrists, fingers, knees, ankles toes), to fevers and shakes. I’ve had so many blood tests, I feel like a pin cushion—the very nice woman in the outpatient check-in knows me by name. I had a punch biopsy. Standing was so painful. At times I admit I just melted into tears. And I just couldn’t shake the thought: what if this is as good as it gets? I believe in healing, but I know that God doesn’t remove every infirmity.

Now, I realize that my suffering was probably very light compared to others. But it was mine and for a relatively active and healthy person this was intense and scary. Perhaps the was the worst: not knowing what was going on and not knowing how long it would continue.

Getting quiet with God this morning, thinking about my daughter’s post and my pain, I found myself thinking about the times I cried out to God these past few weeks. I began to feel like Malachai: how long, God? Silence. I wanted to be angry, to decry what seemed so unfair. But I couldn’t. Because somewhere in the silence there was a drawing…a calling…a voice…trust me.

At first I thought my pain was God “screaming” at me, me the errant, disobedient child. Punishing. Then it seemed more like a “smack” of sorts to get my attention. But each of those fell short. All my experiences with the silent messages from my mother were good for one thing for sure: they taught me to listen, listen hard, and listen long—for the answer is always there in the silence. At least it has been for me.

But like I said, I appear to be on the upswing. Maybe that’s why Job didn’t curse God when his wife suggested it. She wasn’t evil, she just ached to watch him suffer, and was suffering herself. Hope dies hard. Even if the pain I was suffering was going to be my friend for the rest of the journey, I would have adapted…somehow. And I know that God would have been with me. That was the kind of answer that Malachi got. God let the prophet know that he wasn’t going to like the answer to his question because God was going to use his enemy to bring about His purpose. It was the same message for Jeremiah (read ALL of Jeremiah 29).

I don’t know how it goes for you, but I tend to struggle with trying to fix and control. Trust doesn’t always come easy, but I usually get there. Just like when I was a child. Just like when I dealt with my own children. Sometimes learning is hard, as my daughter is finding. Parenting, too. Just ask God.

20/20 Vision

In the first four chapters of Deuteronomy we find the account of the people of Israel poised at the edge of the Promised Land and their resulting fear. Several times Moses reminds them that God had promised them the land so they should act on the promise. The people lacked the faith to do so. Instead they asked Moses to send some scouts in to the land and come back to report what they saw. The plan seemed to make sense to Moses because he figured that the report would remind them of what they stood to gain and reinforce the need to act on the promise and take the land.

Reading about the tension that was rising between Moses and the people reminded what a difference perspective can make. Moses seemed incredulous that the people were so reluctant to move forward when God, the God of the universe, the God who had parted the Red Sea and cared for their every need in the wilderness, would fail to come through for them now. The people were equally mystified in Moses’ obvious lack of understanding regarding the impossibility of the situation. Sure, the land looked good, but the giants loomed that much larger. The two perspectives couldn’t be more diametrically opposed.

The whole thing sounded like the old proverb that you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink. God can lead you to his promise, but he can’t make you believe it. The people were looking at the situation through the lenses of “what is” and it resulted in great fear. Moses was looking at the situation and seeing the great potential that awaited them.

What happens when you look at what is going on around you? When you consider the circumstances where you find yourself are you overwhelmed by what you see, or hope for what can be? In terms of MBTI, are you more of an intuitive or sensate? Are fixated on what you can draw from you situation with your senses, or do you find yourself stuck on the potentialities? Certainly we need balance in the two dimensions, but we will always more naturally lean to one response or the other.

So what about God? My first thought was that He must be a strong iNtuitive. After all, the grand quote about God is that with Him “all things are possible.” That, in fact, we can do all things through Christ (God incarnate) who strengthens us. Talk about potential!
But what about those of us who were born in Missouri? You know us, we are the descendants of Thomas: we need to see it to believe it. God created us with our wiring as it is, so there must value to be a sensory oriented person, one who makes decisions based on what ‘is’ not the illusive “what might be.” Here’s what I think. I believe that God created both ends of the spectrum not only so that we would balance each other, but so that we could be more balanced individually. One is no more valuable or “right” than the other. While understanding our personality is helpful to getting a handle on our behavior, it seems to me it would best to understand God better. We need to learn to take Him at His word, that we can trust Him to come through on His promises.

Here’s what I suggest you do if you find you’re coming up a little short in the trust department, if the task God is asking you to face seems full of giants. Flip to the end of the book. It’s okay. God won’t mind. When you read the end you find that we win. Now turn back to Romans, and catch how Paul describes your position: In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. (Romans 8:37, NRSV) Oh, and here’s the one I really love. Find 2 Chronicles 20:20. Ezra leads up to this great verse by telling the people in verse 15: Do not fear or be dismayed at this great multitude; for the battle is not yours but God’s. Then he reinforces this with verse 17: The battle is not for you to fight; take your position, stand still, and see the victory of the Lord on your behalf. Then the 20;20 moment comes the next day when they get up and go out to battle, he tells them: Listen to me, O Judah and inhabitants of Jerusalem! Believe in the Lord your God and you will be able to stand firm. Believe in his prophets, and you will succeed.

Our dependence on God results in 20:20 vision. So whether you more naturally get focused on what is right in front of you or you jump into all the potentiality of the moment, your vision will be perfect when you trust God and take him at His word. That’s the response that makes the most sense, because if you read on in Deuteronomy you’ll find that it really didn’t go very well for those who gave into their fears. For them it was back out into the wilderness and they never were able to experience the blessings of the Promised Land. And all the possibilities of that kind of experience make me want to be sure I’m holding onto God’s perspective. How about you?

Reflecting:
-Are you struggling with a difficult situation? Are the Giants closing in?
-What promises are you clinging to? What promises do you need to find to hold on?
-You may not feel like a winner right now, but keep reminding yourself that the battle is God’s and he sees you as more than a conqueror!