Such a Time as This

"For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father's family will perish.  And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?"  (Esther 4:14)

My Bible study group has delved into Beth Moore's study of the book of Esther.  It is a brief but fascinating book of the Old Testament that lacks any mention of God, yet the work of God is clearly discerned within its verses.  The above verse refers to the moment of truth that Esther faced as both a "closet Jew" and the queen of Persia - conflicting characteristics.  An edict had just been decreed that all the Jews were to be put to death.  Would Esther expose herself as a Jew, risking her own death, in the hopes that her connection to the king would save her people?

Have you faced a moment of truth in your life?  Have you faced a decision that was incredibly difficult?  Were the consequences of that decision monumental?  Perhaps you didn't realize the significance of the decision until it was already made?  When you look back on that time, can you discern a glimpse of God's plan for your life and for His kingdom?

The above verse was delivered to Queen Esther by her cousin Mordecai, who had raised her.  Like so many of the most influential figures in the history of God's great plan, Esther was a most unlikely person to save the Jews from slaughter.  She was a woman, an orphan, and a Jew living in a godless society, wedded to king who had banished his previous wife for refusing to be paraded in front of his drunken friends.  Of all people, how could someone like Esther possibly change the course of history?  And yet, at that moment, who else was better positioned to do just that?

Mordecai reminds us that God has a plan that will be realized whether or not we choose to participate.  Sometimes, God places us in the position to directly carry out a part of His plan.  If we are reluctant to follow, He will see that it is accomplished without us.  But if we choose to follow, we will realize with stunning clarity the power, wisdom and benevolence of the living God.  Even if the decision to accept our calling in such a moment costs us something, the reward is far greater than what we may have lost in the process.

God placed you where you are, as you are, right here and now on His created earth for a reason.  Whatever decisions we face, no matter how large or small, are not by accident.  We were created for "such a time as this," like an orphaned queen in ancient Persia, or an ordinary young virgin who would bear the Son of God.  The question is...will we choose to follow God's lead?

What did Esther choose?  Check it out for yourself.  God's riches are far better articulated in His Word than in a blog post!

More on Crutches...

Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.  (Psalm 23:6)

This morning in worship, Pastor Norm asked us to write on a little index card what "crutch" we are leaning on in life.  We all have one (if not more than one), myself included.  I don't know about anyone else in the pews around me, but I had no trouble thinking of my crutch: fear.  For most of my life, I have allowed fear to keep me from living an abundant, joyful life in Christ.  Thankfully, God is persistent and He continually finds a way to penetrate my fear.  But still, your humble blogger admits to reaching for her crutch far too often.

Fear, like all our crutches, is a lie that if we allow it to set up shop in our hearts and minds, it will flourish and crowd out the hope and peace that God has promised each of us.  The final verse of the Twenty-Third Psalm emphasizes the importance of replacing fear with hope in the promise of God.  David's choice of words in this verse is telling.  He said "Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."  Notice he did not say, "I hope goodness and mercy can manage to follow me at least most of the time, and maybe I'll end up spending time with God in heaven."  With God, there is no maybe.  There is confidence, there is trust, and there is truth.  The only obstacle is in giving up our crutches in order to walk in that truth.

In his book, "God's Psychiatry," Charles Allen concludes his narrative about the Twenty-Third Psalm by reminding us that we have an advantage over David:  "David did not have the insights that we have.  He never heard the words, 'I am the resurrection and the life: he that believes in me, though he were dead, yet will he live; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.'"

The Twenty-Third Psalm is one of the most recognizable, easily-recited passages in all of the Bible.  It's one thing to know the Psalm.  It's another thing to know the Shepherd, but we can only know Him if we choose to free ourselves from that which keeps us from Him.  We must immerse ourselves in His Word, we must share our lives with Him, and then trust Him to direct our paths.

I am guilty of the sin of leaning on my crutch instead of my Shepherd.  "Letting go and letting God" doesn't have to be as hard as we make it.  When I find myself falling into fear, I must resist the temptation to sin and reach instead for the strong hand of Jesus.  He will catch me when I fall, and He will hold firmly to me as I walk in faith.  He'll do the same for you, friends, no matter what crutch you're hanging onto.

Surely goodness and mercy will follow us all the days of our lives, and we will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.  That's a promise.  Now...let's live like we believe it.

Setting the Table

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.  You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.  (Pslam 23:5)

In his book, "God's Psychiatry," Charles Allen states:  "In the pastures of the Holy Land grew poisonous plants which were fatal to the sheep if eaten.  Also, there were plants whose sharp thorns would penetrate the soft noses of the sheep and cause ugly sores.  Each spring the shepherd would take his mattock and dig out these enemies of the sheep, pile them up, and burn them.  Thus the pastures were safe for the sheep to graze.  The pasture became, as it were, a table prepared.  The enemies were destroyed."

It's difficult for us to recognize the table God has prepared for us in the presence of numerous enemies in this world, but we can begin to understand it by thinking of the role of parenting.  From "baby-proofing" our cabinets, to forbidding the viewing of certain TV programs, to insisting on knowing who our teenagers are with at all times, we who are parents are keenly aware of the enemies that threaten our children.  Nothing terrifies or motivates us more than protecting our kids from all manner of evil-doing and evil-doers in their midst.

As the shepherd demonstrates, "preparing the table" for the flock takes effort and vigilence.  Just as the sheep are clueless as to all the shepherd does to protect them, so too are our children clueless about how and why we parents behave the way we do on their behalf.  But perhaps most striking of all, we as God's children are abudantly clueless as to the protection God affords us daily.

While God prepares a table for us, He also promised that we would experience pain and difficulty in life.  But what He also promised is that He would never abandon us in our pain.  Charles Allen continues:  "Sometimes, as the sheep grazed, its head would be cut by the sharp edge of a stone buried in the grass.  So the shepherd would stand at the door of the fold and examine each sheep as it came in.  If there were hurt places the shepherd would apply soothing and healing oil.  Instead of becoming infected, the hurt would soon heal.  Also, the shepherd had a large, earthen jug of water, the kind of jar which kept the water refreshingly cool through evaporation.  As the sheep came in, the shepherd would dip down into the water with his big cup and bring it up brimful.  The sheep drank deeply."

Among the many emotionally moving scenes in the movie "The Passion of the Christ," perhaps the most emotional for me was the scene in which Jesus' mother, walking alongside her son on the march to His death, flashes back to Jesus as a child.  In the flashback, Jesus the boy falls along a rocky hill, scraping His knee.  Mary rushes to His side to comfort Him, as only a mother can.  Back to the present, Mary realizes in anguish that she cannot soothe her Son through what He is about to face.

Life is hard - exceedingly hard at times.  The Psalmist David reminds us that like the shepherd, God knows each of us by name, He knows all our hurts, and He has the perfect remedy to heal and refresh our weary souls:  the blood of His perfect Son.  With Jesus as our Shepherd, we can rest assured that we will never be abandoned in our hurt. 

The table has been set and the cup of Christ never runs dry.  Praise God.

The Valley

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.  (Psalm 23:4)

This is easily one of the most recognizable verses in the entire Bible.  How telling that a verse that deals with the worst experiences of our lives - death, tragedy, loss - is the one many of us can recite from memory.  It is in those darkest times when we seek comfort and reassurance.  And it is in our Shepherd that we find comfort and reassurance.

In his book "God's Psychiatry," Charles Allen states: "The Basque Sheepherder describes an actual Valley of the Shadow of Death in Palestine.  It leads from Jarusalem to the Dead Sea and is a very narrow and dangerous pathway through the mountain range.  The path is rough, and there is danger that a sheep may fall at any moment to its death.  It is a forbidding journey that one dreads to take.  But the sheep is not afraid.  Why?  Because the shepherd is with it."

As Mr. Allen points out, the Twenty-Third Psalm is the nightengale of the Psalms.  The nightengale sings its sweetest when the night is darkest.  When I have found myself in the valley of the shadow of death, it is daunting, overwhelming and terrifying.  But always I find God to be nearer and clearer in the valley than at any other time in life.  Sometimes I don't fully realize His nearness until the darkest part of the darkness has passed, but always I find Him.  He doesn't "fix" things or erase the tragedy that has occurred, but He holds me as tightly and as long as I need.  I can scream and cry, I can even question His place in it all...but still He holds me tight.

If you're like me, the second part of this verse - "your rod and your staff, they comfort me" - has always been a little confusing.  What rod, what staff, and how could such things be comforting?  Charles Allen explains:  "The sheep is a helpless animal.  It has no weapon with which to fight.  It is easy prey to any wild beast of the field.  It is afraid.  But the shepherd carries a rod, which is a heavy, hard club two to three feet long.  Also, the shepherd carries a staff, which is about eight feet long.  The end of the staff is turned into a crook.  Many paths in Palestine were along the steep sides of mountains.  The sheep would lose its footing and slip down, hanging helplessly on some ledge below.  With his staff, the shepherd could reach down, place the crook over the small chest of the sheep and lift it back onto the pathway.  The sheep is instinctively comforted by the shepherd's rod and staff."

With the state of our world, it seems impossible that God could be near enough to comfort and protect us.  But let's not forget that if the shepherd has the wisdom, compassion and know-how to protect and comfort a simple sheep, how much more does our Shepherd endeavor to do the same for us, His most prized possession?  The valley may be dark and treacherous, but if we grab hold of God's hand, He will guide us back into the light.

The Journey to Somewhere

He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.  (Psalm 23:3)

Continuing in his book "God's Psychiatry," Charles Allen states: "...the sheep has no sense of direction.  A dog, a cat, or a horse, if lost, can find its way back.  They seem to have a compass within themselves.  Not so with a sheep.  The sheep has very poor eyes.  It cannot see ten or fifteen yards ahead.  Palestinian fields were covered with narrow paths over which the shepherds led their sheep to pasture.  Some of these paths led to a precipice over which the stupid sheep might fall to its death.  Other paths lead up a blind alley.  But some paths lead to green pastures and still waters.  The sheep followed the shepherd, knowing it was walking in the right path.  Sometimes the shepherd led over steep and difficult places, but the paths he followed always ended up somewhere.  The sheep was willing to trust that 'somewhere' to the shepherd's judgment."

Oh how thankful I am to have a wise Shepherd to lead this blind and stupid sheep!  This part of the 23rd Psalm, as well as the most familiar part yet to be discussed, gets to the heart of what it means to have faith.  All of us face times of great difficulty in life.  Some of those times are the result of our own sinfulness, while other times happen without our input or choosing.  The question "Why is this happening?" or "Why did this have to happen?" is as natural and necessary to our existence as breathing.  Devising a worldly answer to that question is a futile effort, because no such answer can satisfy the longing in our souls that prompted us to ask the question in the first place.  If we trust God to lead us, even through the rough patches, then the "somehwere" He has in mind is the answer.  Life is about both the journey and the destination.  God is with us on the journey in order to ensure we reach the destination He has in mind.  Our faithfulness during the journey and our gratefulness for the destination glorifies God...for His name's sake.

Charles Allen adds: "Notice that the Psalm says, 'He leadeth me.'  God doesn't drive.  He is climbing the same hill that we climb - man is not alone.  As we take life one step at a time, we can walk with Him the right paths."

The only reliable compass we have is that of our Shepherd.  He is our "true north."  Let us confidently follow His lead.

Looking Up

He makes me to lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters (Psalm 23:2)

My mother used to make me take naps when I was a young child, as I also did with my own child. Naps are wonderful things, aren’t they? They provide rest and refreshment, as well as the nurturing of growth and development. When we’re kids, we often rebel against them, thinking them unfair restrictions on our play time. As grown-ups, we may appreciate the physical and mental benefits of a nap, but the demands of adulthood often keep us (or discourage us) from partaking.

Even though we may have aged out of regularly-scheduled naptime, there are times when we are forced to take a rest – whether we want to or not. Stress piles up and affects the body in numerous ways, often in the form of illness or other ailments.  For me it tends to be migraines. We are reminded that we cannot do everything and we are in fact in control of very little. Never is this more apparent than when our bodies give out under the strain of our feverish lives.

In his book "God’s Psychiatry," Charles Allen further describes the relationship between sheep and shepherd: "…the shepherd starts the sheep grazing about 4 o’clock in the morning. The sheep walk steadily as they graze; they are never still. By 10 o’clock, the sun is beaming down and the sheep are hot, tired, and thirsty. The wise shepherd knows that the sheep must not drink when it is hot, neither when its stomach is filled with undigested grass. So the shepherd makes the sheep lie down in green pastures, in a cool, soft spot. The sheep will not eat lying down, so he chews his cud, which is nature’s way of digestion."

Not only do we need physical rest, but we also need nourishment and refreshment. Human beings cannot survive for long periods without nutrients and fluids, and we certainly cannot thrive on grease and caffeine. Our bodies have needs and limitations which must be respected, no matter how frantically we pace ourselves. I’ll never forget how famished I was after my daughter was born. Her needs occupied every waking moment, such that I didn’t take time to eat until I was almost falling over from hunger. I felt inadequate and fearful that this was how life would always be. And then the doorbell rang and in walked some friends of ours, armed with grilled pork chops, mashed potatoes, broccoli-cheese casserole, rolls hot from the oven, and a perfectly plump and juicy apple pie. To say that I licked my plate clean would be an understatement.  Never before and not since has a meal refreshed me so completely.

The sheep is fearful of moving water because it cannot swim. It will not drink from swift waters, even if it is parched. The shepherd understands this and does not try to change it; rather, as Charles Allen states, "As he leads his sheep across the mountains and valleys, he is constantly on the watch for still waters where the thirst of the sheep may be quenched. If there are no still waters available, while the sheep are resting, the shepherd will gather up stones to fashion a dam across a small stream to form a pool from which even the tiniest lamb may drink without fear."

Our Heavenly Father knows us completely, including our needs, our strengths, our fears, and our limitations.  Just as the sheep depends upon the wisdom and compassion of the shepherd to meet its needs, so too can we confidently depend on our Shepherd to meet ours.  It is to our benefit to remember this as we carry about our day, but if we should forget, let us not complain when we are made to lie down.  For, as Charles Allen asserts, it is often when we are lying flat on our backs that we are finally forced to look up.

A Simple Slice of Bread

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. (Psalm 23:1)

Several years ago, a dear friend and I read a book entitled "God’s Psychiatry" by Charles L. Allen, and my Bible study group is reading it today. First published in 1953, the book breaks down the Bible’s most influential and well-known verses into a scripturally sound, thought-provoking, easy to understand narrative. Specifically, the book discusses the Twenty-Third Psalm, the Ten Commandments, the Lord's Prayer, and the Beatitudes.  Based on may of the intriguing insights the author had, I felt it would be appropriate to share some of them in this blog.

The 23rd Psalm is perhaps the most highly-recognized of all 150 psalms, recited frequently at funerals – and for good reason. It is not about death; rather, it is about the confidence and comfort we find in God. So powerful are the truths contained in this psalm that Charles Allen has prescribed the daily reading and mediation of it as a cure for distress of many kinds. He may be onto something. Have you ever really thought about the words – I mean really let them sink into your bones? I admit that I have not.  Perhaps like other verses or phrases we've heard often in life - biblical or otherwise - repetition can sometimes cause us to lose the impact.

I’ve also never really stopped to consider the depth of God’s comparison of us to sheep. My 21st Century mental picture of a flock of sheep looks something like this: they are dumb and half-blind, always in danger and at the mercy of everything around them – thus in need of a shepherd to guard them and get them safely from point A to point B. I can see how I am much like a sheep, in need of God’s guidance. As always seems to be the case, though, there’s much more to it than that. Charles Allen states, "Instinctively, the sheep knows the shepherd has made plans for its grazing tomorrow. He knows the shepherd made ample provision for it today, so will he tomorrow, so the sheep lies down in its fold…" Notice that this verse does not say "I hope God will be my shepherd." It says, "God IS my shepherd." That fact that God IS means that I shall not want.

To further illustrate this point, the author offers a story so touching, it begs to be shared: "Immediately after World War II, the Allied Forces gathered up many hungry, homeless children and placed them in large camps. There the children were abundantly fed and cared for. However, at night they did not sleep well. They seemed restless and afraid. Finally, a psychologist hit on a solution. After the children were put to bed, they each received a slice of bread to hold. If they wanted more to eat, more was provided, but this particular slice was not to be eaten – it was just to hold. The slice of bread produced marvelous results. The child would go to sleep, subconsciously feeling it would have something to eat tomorrow. The assurance gave the child a calm and peaceful rest."

No matter what we’ve lost, no matter what tomorrow holds, we can rest assured that God will be with us and our needs will be provided for. We can rest comfortably, slice of bread in hand, because the Lord IS our shepherd. We shall not want.

In Times of Drought

On the last and greatest day of the festival, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.” (John 7:37-38)

Other than the presidential race, the most enduring news from the summer is the drought impacting much of the nation.  High temperature records are being broken nearly every day.  Rain is scarce and when it comes, it’s usually accompanied by damaging winds and lightning.  Corn and soybean crops are withering away, which will soon affect prices at the grocery store.  Rationing on the use of water is likely just around the corner.

All of this got me to thinking about a drought of a different kind – a drought of faith.  When folks don’t have Christ in their lives – or if He has been pushed aside by the demands and sufferings that come with living in the world – then a drought ensues.  Just like with the physical drought our nation is experiencing now, it is possible to function in the midst of a faith drought.  One can continue to work and engage in daily activities, but there’s something missing and although it’s hard to pinpoint, it’s tangible – a spark, a sense of purpose, a feeling of direction, of genuineness, of acceptance, or of love.  The absence of these things does not prevent one from getting through the day, but the weight of that absence makes it more difficult and far less joyful.  The longer the drought, the more difficult it becomes.

If you recall, 2011 was an especially wet year for this part of the country – the annual rainfall total was well above normal.  We were thankful for the water we needed and we did our best to deal with the excess and the gloomy skies.  This year, we are baked and arid, the mere sight of a cloudy sky filling us with hope.  Generations of humanity have dealt with the cyclical changes of Creation.  But whether it’s a time of feast or famine, in nature or in our souls, there is a well-spring of Life at the ready.  He is always waiting to fill us up when we are empty, and He gives us the desire to water the souls of those around us when our cups run over.  All we need is to trust the endurance of the source.

No matter what season we may be in, if we trust in Jesus with all that we have, rivers of living water will flow from within us, nourishing ourselves and those around us – at exactly the right time, in exactly the right amount.  It will flow from within us because that is where the Spirit of the Living God resides – and only good can flow from God’s dwelling place.

A Marvelous Collision

Lord, my God, I called to you for help, and you healed me.  (Psalm 30:2)

If you listen to Christian rock on the radio, you've likely heard by now the newest installment from the band MercyMe, entitled "The Hurt and the Healer."  I don't know about you, but music speaks to me in a way that words on a page simply cannot.  The Bible speaks of the healing power of faith in Christ, timeless words that clearly convey God's love for us.  But when someone puts that truth into song, it saturates the heart in miraculous ways.  MeryMe's song is one of those heart-saturating truth-tellers for me.  Sometimes I sing it with passion behind the wheel of my car, while other times I just listen, the lump in my throat forbidding me to utter a sound.  But always, I feel compelled to add a resounding "Amen."

I love to write, although evidenced by my sparse posting on this blog of late, sometimes I can't seem to grasp what I want to say.  Blogger's block, I suppose?  I recently entered a short story in a writing contest, my first-ever attempt at fiction.  I have no illusions of winning anything, but the submission process got me to thinking.  A little-known fact about me is that I am actually published.  There is a story tucked away in the latter half of a book published a few years ago, a story written from the depths of me - so personal, in fact, that I opted to use a pen name.  I received no compensation for it and only a handful of people in the world know that I authored it.  The story is my testimony, and had MeryMe's song been around at the time, I might have stolen their title.  Among a handful of writing I have submitted for publication over the years, only this was chosen for publication.  I pray this means that my testimony is touching a life or two out there.  I will never know in this life, but the privilege of worshipping God on paper is in itself a reward beyond compare.

Simply put, there is nothing more miraculous, more significant to me, than the marvelous result from the collision between a person's hurt and his/her healer.  It took me much too long to realize who that healer is - not a friend, not someone who pretends to be a friend, not a psychologist, nor a bottle filled with booze or pills.  Now that I know Jesus is the healer of all our hurts - no matter how big or small - I can't help but to share the cure with others.  The One who took upon His flesh the sins of the world knows a thing or two about hurt.  The One who rose from the dead, tearing the veil separating us from God, also knows a thing or two about healing.  Thank you, Lord, for loving us...for loving me...that much.

Haven't heard "The Hurt and the Healer"?  Take a listen:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KeNSlQWdgec&feature=related

Blessings to all,
Becky

Judging the Kiwi

Man looks at outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart. (1 Samuel 16:7b

At the first night of VBS this week, the kids learned the above verse that echoes (or perhaps gave birth to) the popular phrase, “don’t judge a book by its cover.”  This is one of those life lessons that we hear so many times through the years that it almost becomes lost in translation.  We know that a person’s true worth is found within, and yet we still have a hard time looking past the exterior.  This is certainly true in our evaluations of others, but it’s also true in terms of how we view ourselves.  If we don’t look a certain way – whether by the shape of our bodies or the clothes we throw on them – then we tend to feel “lesser” than others.  By contrast, when we happen to be sporting the latest style, we feel pretty good about ourselves.  The problem of course is that no amount of style can enhance or mask what lives inside us, where cellulite and fashion have no place.

Supposedly, human beings are hard-wired to be attracted to features in others that would be considered “genetically strong,” such as symmetry.  The theory behind this is that we are drawn to folks that have the best possible chance of promoting the strongest/healthiest human traits going forward.  I don’t know about that, but what I do know is that God created us to love others as a direct reflection of His love.  The last time I checked, such love has zero physical stipulations attached to it; rather, it requires a heart for service and a soul filled with the loving power of the Holy Spirit.  Whether the scientists are accurate or not doesn’t really matter in terms of the fate of humanity.  Instead of searching for the physical traits that promote strong genetics, we should instead seek out, lift up and “procreate” the predisposition for love that we all possess.

Each of us has a story to tell that would perfectly illustrate the importance of looking at the heart.  Each of us has encountered someone with less-than-desirable physical traits who is a genuinely loving, compassionate person.  More commonly than that, perhaps, are stories we could tell of attractive, well-groomed folks whose words and deeds reflected a rotting interior.  The trick is in being able to evaluate others the way God does, which we could perhaps best do blindfolded.

Whenever I think of this particular lesson, I think of the kiwi, that delightfully delicious tropical fruit with the vibrant green interior.  In terms of its flavor, it is one of my most favorite fruits.  But let’s be honest – it is as ugly a thing to behold as you can find.  If we judged the kiwi strictly by its outward appearance, no one would ever touch it.  Actually, I’m amazed that at some point in human history, some curious and perhaps famished soul decided to throw caution to the wind, crack one open and give it a taste.  Whoever this person was, he or she was operating entirely on the faith that something better was within. 

Maybe we’ll never be able to completely shirk off the tendency to be attracted to outward beauty, but let’s not forget that when we bypass someone who doesn’t fit our criteria for beauty, we might just be missing out on a kiwi.

Graduating With His Honor

Whether graduating from high school, college, graduate school or a training program, there is something uniquely special about transitioning from a structured, formalized educational program to an environment in which that education is expected to translate into success. It is a time to reflect upon and celebrate all the hard work, fun, and personal sacrifice that went into achieving this milestone. It’s a time to sincerely thank the parents, teachers, mentors and friends that sacrificed, supported, pushed and prodded to ensure success and happiness. It’s also a time to plan for a future that will be fulfilling, meaningful and honorable.

There are many unique and useful skills one learns through schooling, knowledge that applies directly to professional aptitude in specific disciplines. Even if one obtains the highest degree possible in a given field, there is always more that can be learned. In an increasingly competitive job market, education is more valuable than ever. Ultimate success, however, cannot be defined or quantified by a diploma in a frame or letters after one’s name. True success begins and ends with the source of our knowledge, our drive to learn, and our talents: our Father in heaven.

The working adults and retirees among us will likely all attest to the fact that one’s character and work ethic are far more important in our work than our educational attainment. I would venture to say that the majority of textbook learning is fairly useless, in and of itself. The dedication to learning the material in that textbook, to seeing it through no matter how interesting or objectionable it may be, is an indication of strength, maturity, and nobility. Such dedication can and should translate to any job that we do, whether it’s flipping burgers or running a major corporation. Such dedication is what earns us promotions, raises and – most importantly – the approval of our Creator.

Whether we are a day past graduation or decades past it, our learning never ends, nor does our obligation to work hard, treat others well, and conduct ourselves with honesty and integrity. Even if all we graduated from was the "school of hard knocks," we all have the same marching orders. They’ve come directly from the only teacher we’ll ever need, our Lord Jesus. When the textbooks are long forgotten, collecting dust on a basement shelf, the lessons from our Teacher apply eternally. If we forget them or are tempted to stray from them, His lesson plan is always at our fingertips, His Word applicable to any job, any profession, and any circumstance we may face.

This graduation season, let us all celebrate the milestones and success that our friends and family members have achieved. Let us also remember that the fruits of that hard work are born from dedication to following Jesus Christ in all that we do. Ultimate success is realized in striving daily to be His living light in our little corner of the world.

Letter to His Mother

Dear Mary,

On Mother’s Day, who better to write about than the earthly mother of our Lord and Savior? There is no woman I could admire more; for, though my own mother birthed me into this world, it is your son who gave me life. My mother raised me and nurtured me, directly impacting the woman I have become. But it is your son who has given me a purpose for living and a direction for my life.

From the very beginning, you possessed a depth of faith I have sought most of my life. Carrying the savior of the world in your womb, you did not question the truth or validity of your purpose. Although you likely felt the weight of the responsibility you bore in carrying out God’s plan, you never doubted that God would see you safely through.

I can only imagine what it was like for you to raise Jesus as any mother raises her child. I’ve often wondered if He suffered from the "terrible twos" or if He was as perfect in childhood as He was in adulthood. I’m sure that while you never forgot who He was during His younger years, you likely stepped into the daily routine all parents fall into with their children. I’m sure you grew quite attached to this fine boy, beaming with the pride and joy all mothers share.

When it was time for Jesus to start the ministry He had been called to, I wonder if you felt humble and grateful that your son had made it safely to this point, or did you feel a pang of sadness to know that His ministry would take Him to places far removed from where most mothers would dare to travel? You trusted in God’s promise that Jesus would be the long-sought savior of the people, but I can’t imagine how difficult it was to witness the cruelty and suffering heaped upon Him. Dare I say that not even the promises of the sovereign Lord can completely ease the breaking of a mother’s heart when her child suffers pain and injustice?

You and your son are joyously reunited for all eternity as He sits at the right hand of the Father. I for one am incapable of fully understanding the grace of the risen Christ. The depth of His sacrifice is incomprehensible. But the mother in me can appreciate – if only by a fraction – the depth of your sacrifice. By your faith, my Savior was born into the world to dwell among men and to set us free by grace. By your faith, the path to freedom and eternal life was paved.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mary. I can’t wait to one day meet the mother of the One who gave me life.

Sincerely,
A grateful child of our wonderful Lord

Personality Prayers

You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions.  (James 4:3)

God's Word tells us to pray for our enemies - those who have harmed or destroyed what is sacred to us individually or collectively.  But what about people who just irritate us or rub us the wrong way?  There are far more folks in our everyday lives that fit this description.  They are clearly not "enemies," yet we tend to regard them with similar feelings of aversion.  We know we should pray for them as well, but it seems so hard to do so in a genuine way.  Why is that?

God instilled in each of us a personality all our own.  When these personalities intermingle, it can make for fascinating discussion, spectacular accomplishments, and also some ruffled feathers.  We encounter this dynamic each day at work, at school, in our social activities, and even within our families.  We each have varying levels of tolerance for varying personality quirks.  Sometimes we can make it work, while other times our lack of patience and frayed nerves result in unkind words, hurt feelings or resentment.  Perhaps it's hard to pray for folks who irritate us because we expect more from them than we do from enemies.  A coworker or classmate might bug the daylights out of us, but they aren't out to destroy what is sacred, so why can't they just shape up and get with the program?  Why should we need to pray for them to be the way we want them to be?

The answer, of course, is that we shouldn't.  There's nothing wrong with wanting a rude person to be courteous or an arrogant person to take on an attitude of humility.  But we should not limit our supplications to correcting what we perceive to be wrong with another person.  We should also pray for our own patience and understanding (not to mention a greater understanding of our own personality quirks).  Above all, we should pray for God's strength and guidance in utilizing our greatest asset: our ability to be witnesses for Christ.  By approaching all our relationships - even those that irritate us - with the strength, wisdom and love of Jesus, we will have far more influence on folks than by simply cataloging their faults and praying for them to be corrected.

The next time someone makes you want to scream in frustration, take a breath and take a moment with the Lord.  When we ask for help in being a witness for Christ, God will always answer.  Sometimes, your relationship with the other person will change for the better, but if not, one thing is for certain: your relationship with God will grow stronger.  The stronger that relationship is, the more visible Christ will become to everyone around you.

Faith of a Child

"Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”  (Luke 18:17)

Between bursts of rain drops and gusts of wind this past week, my husband and I did some work around the house, getting ready for flowers and mulching. Pulling the incessant supply of weeds from the flowerbeds is, believe it or not, an activity I enjoy. It gets me outside in the fresh air doing something at my own pace that takes very little know-how. Mostly, however, I enjoy it because it reminds me of a glimpse of God’s kingdom I once witnessed while weeding my garden.

When my daughter was around two years old, she and I were outside on a sunny summer afternoon. While I pulled weeds, she played happily with her miniature garden set in the dirt nearby. In the midst of humming and digging with her little spade, she abruptly stopped what she was doing, turned around and looked beyond our backyard. She waved once and said, "Hi Great-Grandpa!" The words stunned me, since at the time she had one living great-grandfather in another state whom she had never met. I looked in the general direction of her gaze, expecting to see someone – our elderly neighbor, perhaps – that could cause her to say such a thing. Instead, I saw only grass and trees. I turned back to her and marveled at the wonder and intensity in her gaze – she was utterly absorbed in what she saw. She sat that way for a moment longer and then just as abruptly turned back to humming and digging in the dirt, as if nothing had happened.

Although I tried in my humanness to come up with a "logical" explanation, I already knew. Not only did I believe that my daughter had seen the spirit of one of her great-grandfathers, I instinctively knew that it was the specific spirit of her paternal great-grandfather who had died nearly twenty years before she was even born. I had never met him, but I’ve been told that he was a wonderful, godly man. My instinct was confirmed a week or so later, when my daughter pointed to a picture of my husband’s grandpa in my in-laws’ house and said, "There’s Great-Grandpa."

There is something to be said for the faith of a child, isn’t there? God understands it perfectly well. Whereas I sought a logical, understandable explanation for my daughter’s actions, she simply embraced the encounter with her loved one as normal. She was not surprised, frightened, or otherwise jarred by the experience. It was simply a part of her summer afternoon. There’s no telling the miraculous things we could experience if only we simply accept the sovereign power and presence of our Lord in our midst, rather than explaining Him away by our imperfect logic.

As the earth comes alive this spring, let us remember that the Lord has a handle on the complex. We need only concern ourselves with the simple fact that God is God. He always has been and He always will be. Accepting that simple truth makes the miraculous not only possible, but normal for a child of God.

Majoring in Christ

Our life is lived by faith. We do not live by what we see in front of us. (2 Corinthians 5:7)

Last night, someone on a TV commercial said to his infant child, "You ARE going to college when you grow up." I asked my six year-old if she wanted to go to college (as if she truly understands what college is), to which she said she did. When I asked what she wanted to be when she grows up, she shrugged at first and then said she wants to be a teacher. It made me wonder...what do I want to be when I grow up?

I've worked with literally hundreds of college-aged volunteers who faced the daunting challenge of trying to answer that question. Some had always known what they wanted to be, while others were facing graduation without a clue. Still others chose to follow in the path their parents had established for them, whether they liked it or not. I changed my major in college no less than five times. What I told many of these volunteers over the years is that if you have a specific dream that you're passionate about, work hard and go after it. But try to avoid putting all your eggs in one basket, even if it's something you think you'll want to do the rest of your life. I'm living proof that your interests change with time, you add skills with age, and you discover talents along the way that you never knew you had. In the midst of those discoveries, life often has a way of throwing us curveballs that force a change in plans.

Like most adults who've been in the working world for a while, I've discovered a handful of specific things about myself that I'm both good at and interested in. The same goes for my personal hobbies and interests. I have no doubt that my list of such things will continue to evolve. This natural flux in life used to feel like something to be feared, but in reality, it is something to embrace. Think how life would be if we were forced to live forever with a finite plan we created for ourselves at age 18, when our understanding of the world and all that's in it is so limited. It's a scary thought, isn't it?

Whatever age we are, we can continue to learn, to grow and to change who we are and what we do. It doesn't matter what our diploma or resume say, if we have those things at all. The key ingredient is a solid foundation in Christ. If we strive to live out our daily lives by walking in faith, our path will be made known to us. God will unearth the talents He gave us at just the right time, so we will blossom in His will. We are free to pursue our intellectual interests and the desires of our hearts, but true success will be realized when we allow God to be our advisor.

What do you want to be when you grow up? If you're like me and you still don't know, that's okay. If we declare our major in Christ, we can't go wrong. Our opportunities are endless.

Fruit of the Free

My lips will call out for joy when I sing praises to You. You have set my soul free. (Psalm 71:23)

There are many things that cause us to feel joy, including loving family relationships, a devoted spouse, children, the spendor of nature. But I have not yet found anything more joyous than the love of God through His risen Son. With each passing year, I find an indescribable thankfulness for my salvation, and a bone-deep commitment to and contentment with the love of Christ.

In August of last year, I recall reading through misty eyes the story of Ameneh Bahrami, an Iranian woman who had suffered severe burns, blindness and disfigurement as a result of a 2004 attack in which acid was thrown onto her face. The man responsible for the attack, Majid Movahedi, had reacted in anger when Bahrami had refused his proposal of marriage. Movahedi was found guilty of the offense and under Iran's "eye for an eye" justice system, he faced a terrible sentence: a doctor was to put a few drops of acid into his eye. At first, Bahrami supported the sentence, but at the last moment she pleaded for her attacker to be spared, saying "I forgave him, I forgave him!" When later asked about the basis for her change of heart, she stated, "It is best to pardon when you are in a position of power."

It is imperfect at best to compare the gift of our Lord Jesus on the cross with an act of mercy by sinful people, but I can't help but to think of it: Imagine if Jesus, the Son of the Most Powerful, had opted to exact an "eye for an eye" justice for all the sins we have committed (and will commit). Imagine if He had replaced the crucifixion with a campaign of retribution. Instead, he willingly took the "acid in the eye" so we would not have to. While we were on death row, while we were yet sinners, He died for us.

While I have no way of knowing, I like to think that Majid Movahedi is now a faithful follower of Christ, having been spared a horrific punishment for his terrible crime based purely on the principle of forgiveness. I like to think that the tearful joy he expressed at being pardoned by the very person he had maimed has translated into a life based on love, compassion and forgiveness. When I think of what Jesus did for me - which far surpasses what this one Iranian woman did for the man who hurt her - I am grateful beyond measure, tearfully humbled, and joyously inspired to live by love and mercy.

If one woman can forgive a man who maimed her, then surely I can forgive another for harming me. If one woman can show mercy despite being empowered to exact revenge, then surely I can show mercy. If the very God whom I have offended countless times through my sins can forgive me and show me undeserved mercy through the sacrifice of His Son, then surely I can strive to honor Him by showing forgiveness and mercy to others. Such things are what true joy is made of. Such things are the fruit of a soul set free.

Autobiography of a Common Criminal

It figures that I would end up here, affixed to a cross of wood in front of this self-righteous, blood-thirsty mob. I’m surprised it took this long to stare death square in the face. Truth be told, I’ve been dying a slow, painful death long before I came to this place they call "the Skull." I am a wretched man, a criminal who has wasted the bulk of my life gratifying myself by cheating and hurting others. I’ve squandered so many opportunities to do the right thing, to love and honor the people in my life instead of using them. Oh, how I wish I could go back and change things, change myself. I am exactly where I deserve to be, dying this barbaric death with my shame exposed for all to see. There is nothing for me to do but hang here and die.

But there’s this man hanging next me on His own cross. They’ve beaten Him so severely I can barely tell that He’s a man at all. The riotous crowd is directing the bulk of its hatred toward Him, mocking Him as if His physical wounds aren’t punishment enough. I heard them chanting "king of the Jews," and that’s when I realized who He is. He’s the man called Jesus, the one who claims to be the very Son of God Himself. He has said that a home in heaven awaits those who trust in Him. The crowd and another criminal on the other side of Jesus are taunting and insulting Him. My heart breaks for Him. Isn’t He the one who’s been teaching the people to love one another? What did He ever do to deserve such punishment? He never cheated, stole, or hurt anyone the way I have, and yet He’s here with me, in far worse shape than I am. What gives them the right to do this to someone like Him?

It’s getting harder to breathe. It won’t be long now. My time is running out, like the last few grains of sand in an hourglass. I don’t know how Jesus survived the beating He took before they nailed Him to the wood, but He’s still alive. He’s struggling pretty badly, so if I’m going to do this, I need to do it now. But how can I? How can I, a common criminal, request anything of someone so innocent in His final, agonizing moments? On the other hand, how can I not? This is my last chance to make things right, to have a chance at something beyond this garish place. Jesus said that He wants us to put our faith in Him. Is now too late? Does He have enough love and forgiveness left for me? Does He know how sorry I am for the mess I’ve made of my life, for the suffering I’ve caused? Does He believe that I want to be with Him? Is the very hour of my death too late to ask for life?

I don’t know if I have enough breath to make my voice work. The man on the other side of Jesus doesn’t seem to be having a problem. He keeps spitting insults. Something about his cruelty gives me the strength I need to speak and I say to him, "Don’t you fear God, since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong." I look from the criminal to Jesus, a lifetime of regret and an eternity of hope staring at the broken body of the King of the Jews. With all the energy left in my weary body, my voice speaks the pleading of my heart, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."

The Son of God turns His head toward me, the crown of thorns digging ever deeper into His scalp. He is literally bathed in blood, a sight more terrifying than anything I’ve ever seen. But then our eyes meet. Through the blood and anguish of human cruelty surrounding them, I see in His eyes the hope of generations, the very light of God staring back at me with a love I’ve never allowed myself to experience. Before He even speaks, even through the agony He is enduring, I see it in His eyes and for the first time, I know: He does love me. He does forgive me. I am more than what I have been. I am His. His swollen lips part and from the mouth of the Savior comes this blessed assurance:

"Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise."

The Power of Choice

The chief priests of the Jews protested to Pilate, "Do not write ‘The King of the Jews,’ but that this man claimed to be king of the Jews." Pilate answered, "What I have written, I have written." (John 19:21-22)

It’s impossible to consider the crucifixion without considering the thoughts and actions of Pontius Pilate, the governor who sentenced Jesus to death. From our vantage point as faithful followers of Christ in the year 2012, it’s easy for us to demonize Pilate and all the others involved in the crucifixion. But can we not for a moment step into the shoes of those in positions of authority at the time?

Lest I create a firestorm of controversy during Holy Week, I am not downplaying Pilate’s responsibility in Christ’s crucifixion. He had the power to spare the life of God’s own Son, the only truly innocent man ever to exist, and he chose not to. Pilate was corrupted by power, a slave to status, swayed by the political and cultural whims of his time – not at all unlike many leaders of today. It is often argued that Pilate was simply carrying out a very integral part of God’s plan. While that is true, it’s not because God forced Pilate to sentence Jesus to death; rather, God knew that Pilate would ultimately make that choice. Just as God uses all of our choices to accomplish His will, so too did He use Pilate’s choice. But Pilate alone was responsible for the choice he made.

It is well documented in the gospels that Pilate did not want the responsibility of sentencing Jesus to death. He stated several times that he could find no legal fault in Jesus, no crime that Jesus had committed. He was troubled by the fact that Jesus claimed to be the Son of God. His wife had warned him to leave Jesus alone, based on a disturbing dream she’d had. There was no legal basis for punishing Him. All things considered, it seemed like a no-brainer for Pilate to pardon the King of the Jews. He didn’t because he was as human as you and me.

All those in positions of power at the time felt threatened by Jesus and what He had been teaching. The chief priests were not about to pass up this golden opportunity to finally get rid of Jesus. Pilate sentenced Jesus to die, literally washed his hands, and passed the buck to the riotous mob. I believe he knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he was too intimidated, too mired in self-preservation to do what was right. He tried to convince himself that he had no choice but to appease the crowd and that Jesus’ blood was on their hands, not his. We can call Pilate a deluded coward, but how often have fear, peer pressure, or threats to our power or status influenced our own decisions?

I find the above passages from John fascinating. Did Pilate simply make a mistake with the wording, or was it intentional? If it was intentional, was it another way of placing blame on the crowd? Or was it a last-ditch attempt to quiet his conscience by declaring the truth about who Jesus was? When questioned about his omission of the phrase "claimed to be," Pilate could have answered by saying, "Oops – my bad!" He didn’t. Sometimes what is not said speaks volumes.

Regardless of the motivation behind them, Pilate alone was responsible for his choices. Despite logic and a nagging conscience telling him it was wrong, he nonetheless chose of his own free will to sentence Christ to death. That is certainly not something I would want to be known for, but I am far from innocent. Through my own sinful choices in life, I contributed to the suffering of Christ on the cross. A prickly point in the crown of thorns, a slash from the flogger, a slap to the face, a nail through tender flesh…these have my name on them. I deserve to bear the punishment for my sins, to spend eternity separated from God. Mercifully, Jesus took my place, sparing me from such an awful fate. Why? Because God also makes choices.

God chose to save us from ourselves through the sacrifice of His beloved Son. Let us honor His choice by choosing Him in all that we do.

Only a Little Longer

"My children, I will be with you only a little longer. You will look for me, and just as I told the Jews, so I tell you now: Where I am going, you cannot come." (John 13:33)

It’s difficult to imagine what it must have been like to be alive and in the company of Jesus when He walked the earth. To see those gentle hands healing the sick, to hear that strong voice speaking God’s very own Word, to have those piercing eyes see all the way to one's soul with a love that surpasses understanding…it gives me chills. Sharing a meal and the very air we breathe with the Son of God – what could be more enthralling for a common man or woman?

It may be impossible for me to know how I would have felt to have been in the shoes of one of the disciples, but I can imagine reacting the way Peter did to the above words of Jesus. I’m certain most of the disciples felt a mixture of sadness, confusion and anxiety when Jesus told them that He would be leaving them to go to a place none of them could come. Being in the company of Jesus full-time was an experience that compared to nothing else. It was eye-opening and life-altering. Why was He going to be leaving soon? Where was He going? Why couldn’t they come along? What were they supposed to do in His absence? How could life ever be the same? He had taught them much about what it means to love one another, about trusting in God, but how could they carry on without Him there? Inquiring minds wanted to know, and Peter wasted no time in asking.

I see much of Peter’s human tendencies in myself. Like many of us, Peter sometimes got a little bit too big for his britches. I think he felt disappointed that Jesus didn’t trust him enough to share this "insider" information with him. I can almost picture Peter leaning close to Jesus and whispering, "Hey, it’s me, your best bud. I can see how you wouldn’t want the others to know, but you can tell me. Better yet, take me with you!" How deflated and even offended Peter must have felt when Jesus told him that he would deny Him three times. And how utterly devastated Peter later felt when it turned out to be true.

You and I understand that Jesus was speaking of His impending crucifixion and resurrection, something that He alone had to do in order to pave the way for us to eventually follow and have a home in heaven. Oh, but how hard it must have been for the disciples at that moment. I can imagine myself pleading, "Lord, please don’t leave us!" You and I have the Holy Spirit alive in us to guide our way, but we have never seen Jesus in the flesh. The disciples did not yet possess the Holy Spirit, but they experienced God incarnate, the Word breathing the very same air. I sympathize with the disciples: Sharing earthly space with the Lord Jesus is simply not something anyone would ever want to let go of.

I am so thankful that when I look for Jesus, I will always find Him, dwelling within me and preparing a place for me in Glory. I am thankful that He saved me from the eternal punishment of my sins, forever tearing the veil separating me from God. One day, we'll get to hold those gentle hands, to hear that strong voice, and to see those piercing eyes in the splendid glory of our Father's house...all because He chose the cross for us.

Doing What's Right

It’s not always easy to do the right thing, is it? Sometimes doing what’s right puts us at odds with influential people, it exposes us as being “different,” or it can even put us in danger. For most of us, hesitating or failing to do the right thing is not as much about being selfish as it is about being afraid. Peter was a faithful disciple of Christ, yet even he denied Jesus when his life was in danger. It’s very human of us to be persuaded by our fears.

In a previous job, I worked with an executive director who was misusing grant monies that funded the program of which I was in charge. When I confronted her about it, I was given a nickname that I cannot repeat here and I was frequently reminded that I was employed at will. In other words, I could be fired at any moment for no reason. I wrestled with my fear of losing my job and my obligation to do what was right – which were squarely at odds with one another. Finally, I chose to do what was right. I notified the office that administered the grant in question – none other than the Attorney General. I suddenly found myself in the unexpected and uncomfortable position of being a whistleblower. The ensuing weeks were tense to say the least, but in the end my program and my job survived, and the executive director was asked to leave. It was a powerful lesson for me. Unfortunately not all such stories have happy endings.

Whether it’s something as dramatic as confronting corruption in the workplace, or something as simple as refusing to allow someone to speak ill of another person in our presence, we are constantly presented with opportunities to do the right thing. Like anything in life, we grow more comfortable doing what’s right the more frequently we do it. The more we practice it, the more likely it is to become a habit. Yet unlike exercising, for example, which is a habit most folks think is admirable and worthwhile, we are not always supported or accepted when we get in the habit of doing the right thing. Sometimes such a habit puts a target on our backs.

Fortunately, we have a tried and true blueprint for what it means to do the right thing. This blueprint tells us exactly the things we should and should not do, including a wide variety of real-life examples. It tells us about the challenges we can expect to encounter along the way and how to overcome them. Best of all, it gives us a Teacher and Counselor to advise us and encourage us each step of the way, no matter what circumstances we may face. How fortunate we are to have God’s Word at our fingertips!

Like Peter, I have stumbled and fallen at critical moments, stifled by my fears. Sometimes I shrug off a “small” opportunity to do the right thing and later feel convicted by my guilt. Although we all fail at times, if we cling to God’s Word doing what’s right will eventually become a habit. We may not always be rewarded by earthly means. Sometimes we may even be punished, but we can have confidence that our Father is pleased with us. Besides, our ultimate reward is literally out of this world.

The Persecution We Face

"Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you." (Matthew 5:11-12)

As one who has never traveled to places where it is a serious crime to profess faith in Christ, it’s hard for me to imagine such surroundings. We all take for granted our ability to go to any church we please and to profess our faith openly. As much as we may decry the moral decay and the political polarization happening in our country, we need to remember just how good we have it. There are folks in our world who choose to daily practice their Christian faith under the continual threat of imprisonment or death. Such is a depth of dedication and courage I’m not sure I could muster under similar conditions.

Although we may not face such severe forms of persecution in the U.S., Christianity is nonetheless under attack here. God’s name has been systematically removed from all manner of public and even private functions. God’s expectations for how we should live our lives have gradually taken a backseat to the modern "virtues" of tolerance and political correctness. It’s a societal faux-pas and sometimes a civil crime to hold someone accountable for their actions, to offend their beliefs or sensibilities – unless that person happens to be a Christian. Such persecution is most often non-violent, but it is insidious and methodical. By comparison, this form of persecution has the capacity to do far more damage.

When I was in college, I took an elective course entitled "The Philosophy of Religion." I enjoy philosophy, so I was intrigued by the theories and discussions such a class would generate. I was dejected to find that the professor was highly intolerant of Christianity. He went so far as to say that Christians are "shallow" people. Others in the class argued with him while I sat in stunned silence, too timid and deflated to join the fight. The phrase "youth is wasted on the young" is the perfect application for this time in my life. If I were to take the same class today, I would have no problem standing up and articulating just how and why the professor is wrong. But this memory reminds me that there are many impressionable young people in our midst that are being poisoned by lies in the name of education. This is but one example of the insidious persecution daily occurring in the U.S.

The Bible tells us that as the time draws nearer for Christ’s return, society will become more and more immoral and people will become crueler toward one another. But the Bible also tells us that the Church will grow stronger. We already know how the story ends – our Lord wins. (He has already won). If we grow despondent in the face of our modern-day persecution as Christians, we can take heart in the fact that "one day, every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord." Until that blessed time, we have a duty to help strengthen the Church, and we have the privilege of rejoicing in the truth of God, no matter what it costs us.

You and I may not be chained in a prison cell for professing faith in Christ, but we face daily restraints in a society that largely does not recognize the sovereign Lord. We can choose not to be closet Christians. We can choose to be like Daniel, facing the furnace and the lions if need be. We can choose to rejoice when our faith is assailed, for the simple reason that we have Truth on our side. All other ground is sinking sand.

Influential Travelers

"So comfort each other and make each other strong as you are already doing." (Thessalonians 5:11)

In all that we do and experience as followers of Christ, I think we often tend to underestimate our influence on others. Not only are we ambassadors for Christ in a world that includes many non-believers in our midst, but we also have enormous bearing on the lives of fellow Christians.

The very first Bible study I attended was held in the home of a wonderful, intelligent, godly woman. As time passed, her living room swelled with women, both young and old, hungry to share in the wisdom of God’s Word. As a relatively new Christian, I felt inspired but also woefully inadequate. Most of the other women had such intelligent, insightful things to say about God, while I was lucky just to form a coherent thought. Most days, I never uttered a word, too afraid to sound as dumb as I felt. When we were to read a particular verse, I fumbled through my crisp Bible in vain, while others seemed to turn to the appropriate book and chapter in their well-worn Bibles with virtually no effort. Our host had a full arsenal of different Bibles and commentaries at her fingertips, each of them bookmarked in countless places. It was humbling to say the least.

I’m not sure how many other folks can relate, but as one new to faith in Christ at the time, I viewed the Bible in much the same way as I thought of God – holy and to be revered, yet also distant and untouchable. Imagine my horror when our Bible study leader asked us to underline a passage in our Bibles. Mark in my Bible, are you kidding? It’s God’s Word! Isn’t that like a divine form of vandalism? I couldn’t seem to bring myself to do it, even in pencil to be erased the moment I got home. It didn’t seem to matter that the most insightful women in the group had dog-eared pages and verses highlighted in neon pink throughout their Bibles. I couldn’t bring myself to "deface" my Bible in such a way.

On another day, our leader was discussing how she talked to Jesus on the way to and from work each day, as though He were riding shotgun next to her. Talking to Jesus in my car? Aren’t you supposed to pray to God on your knees, in the pew at church, or beside your bed at night? Is it really okay to just have a chat with God whenever you feel like it? The thought of Jesus taking a ride in my car was an image that both thrilled and haunted me. Everything I thought I knew about the practices of a faithful Christian was being challenged with each Bible study session. I kept coming back week after week, eager to learn what more I had been missing out on.

Fortunately, the wonderful women from those early studies in my walk of faith never judged me for my lack of knowledge or experience. They simply shared their hearts each week, influencing me in ways most of them will never realize. They, and the smaller group I now study with, serve as humble, faithful ambassadors for Christ. They remind me that at any given moment, we are all at different points in our walk with God. How we treat each other can influence a fellow believer’s commitment to that walk. It’s a responsibility we tend to forget, but it’s also an incredible privilege. I would not be where I am today without the loving, patient brothers and sisters in Christ that God so graciously placed in my path.

Today, my Bible has a few marks in it here and there, although I tend to make notes about particular passages in my journal. (I don’t trust that I’ll remember why I highlighted a specific verse months after the fact). But more importantly, the spine has developed a few small cracks from being opened repeatedly, and the pages don't stick together any longer as if fresh off the presses. I’ve also learned to speak with God in places and at times I would have once thought inappropriate. It's never perfect. It's a process.

Like everyone else, my walk with God is an ongoing adventure, a journey that includes miles behind me and many miles yet to travel. I’ve come to celebrate the fact that wherever each of us is on that journey, it’s exactly where we’re supposed to be. Let us always remember to join hands and support each other, no matter where we are. You never know when you might encourage a timid young believer or reinvigorate the seasoned traveler - even within the confines of Bible study. As long as we always keep Jesus as our tour guide, then it’s a trip well worth taking together.

Making Molehills

We’ve all heard the expression "making mountains out of molehills." In other words, we make small problems into momentous challenges for no good reason. All of us are guilty of this at one time or another. Often our expectations, our emotions, and/or our tendency to complicate the simple are what create those insurmountable peaks. We find ourselves scaling jagged cliffs, holding on for dear life, when we started out on a simple stroll through the woods.

Some of the "mountains" in our lives emerge by surprise overnight, bursting through the surface like hungry lava from a dormant volcano. Loss of loved ones, loss of employment, and serious health issues come to mind. Other times, we create the mountains ourselves by pushing the snowball up the slope until it’s so thick and heavy, it threatens to flatten us at a moment’s notice. Sin in which we’ve become ensnared, resentments that have festered, and guilt that has piled up over the years are examples familiar to me in my own life. Regardless of the cause, a giant obstacle stands between us and freedom.

There is an ample supply of "self-help" books and so-called experts out there with an arsenal of ideas about how to deal with the mountains in our lives. A former colleague of mine was particularly fond of these resources. She would often listen to them on tape in her car, temporarily energized by the latest fad to ease what troubled her. One of her favorite books used this very same mountain analogy. The expert’s advice was to scale that mountain full speed ahead and not stop until you’ve conquered it, planting your flag of dominance firmly at the summit. Mastery and self-control are the only acceptable solutions. Show that problem who’s boss!

Of course, what the self-help books fail to address is what happens once we scale the mountain and plant our flag. Assuming we’ve had the strength to make it there, is it really habitable at the top? Are we to pitch a tent at the summit of our problems, setting up residence on the very source of what plagues us, cut off from all the good in our lives that still dwells like a speck at the bottom? When the rains come – and they will – won’t we be battered more severely with no one and nothing to provide us shelter?

Our God has conquered all this world has to offer, all the mud it has to sling, and all the mountains we create for ourselves. God is capable of parting the waters of the seas and reducing the highest peaks to a pile of pebbles. But more importantly, God has given us the perfect expert to advise us, and His words of wisdom are found in a well-known and accessible book – you can even get it on tape, if you wish. His plan is tried and true, guaranteed to work.

Jesus alone can conquer all the mountains that form in our midst, all the insurmountable peaks we place in our own paths. He does not conquer them by encouraging us to scale them – it is a waste of our time and energy. Nor does He conquer them by removing them completely – all our struggles serve a purpose in our lives. He carefully and deliberately deconstructs them, sifting through the rubble of sin and suffering to leave a meaningful, manageable molehill from which we may grow and fertilize our faith. You see, He climbed all our mountains for us long before they were formed. The spikes that pierced His precious flesh created fissures in the rock of our sin. His cleansing blood left a flat, fruit-filled foundation from which we may build our lives. Here is where we should plant our flag of freedom and faithfulness.

Is a mountain of pain or an insurmountable challenge standing in your path? Join me in putting down that climbing gear, picking up God’s Word, and consulting the ultimate expert. Jesus is ready to make a molehill out of that mountain. Are you ready to let Him? I know I am.

In the Palm of His Hand

"I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand." (John 10:28)

In my years working as a crisis counselor, it took me a long time to get used to ministering to folks in intense circumstances, only to send them on their way and never see or hear from them again. I wanted to know how their lives turned out, and in my own prideful heart, I wanted to know if my presence had made any difference. The majority of the time, I never found answers to those questions. Instead, I learned to turn their care over to God, who would minister to them more fully than I ever could. When my work was finished, I would simply envision these wounded souls enveloped in the strong, warm, comforting palm of God’s immense and loving hand. Knowing that He was in control of their healing and protection was what allowed me to sleep in peace, to let go and move on to the next person in need.

It’s easy for us to see the wisdom of turning to and relying on God on the mountain tops and in the deep valleys of our lives, but what about all the many other points along the slope of life? I don’t know about you, but I’ve been guilty of falling into the trap of believing that my joys and sorrows are not important or urgent enough to bring before a God who hears the anguished cries of so many of His children. How dare I come to God with concerns about work or relationship issues when there are people who have lost loved ones, homes, and their entire livelihoods to tornadoes? How can I voice a prayer about responsibly rearing my child, when folks on the other side of the world lose children daily to AIDS and starvation? I can’t count how many times I’ve prayed openly for others, only to stop short of praying to God about the struggles in my own life, silenced by a faulty feeling of selfishness.

Thought processes like this come from the erroneous practice of applying human terms to a divine God. He is everywhere at all times, a living, breathing part of each of His created children. There is more than "enough" of Him – more than we can fathom – to be fully and lovingly with each of us every moment of every day. We don’t have to put our joys and concerns on a divine waiting list, to be tended to after more pressing concerns are dealt with. In fact, God knows every song in our hearts, every pain carried in our bodies and souls, long before we ever form the words to express them. The only delay occurs when we hesitate to bring it all to Him. No matter what is happening in the world, no matter what time of day or night, God hears us. He hears us even if all we can do is fall to our knees in silence before Him.

If God’s presence is hard for we humans to understand, so too is His love for us. How could He love us so much that He sacrificed His Son for us? Such love may be difficult to comprehend, but it is very real. It is perfect and utterly complete. By hesitating to bring my "insignificant" joys and concerns to God, I forget that if it’s important to me, it’s important to God. To withhold myself from Him in any way is an affront to a love so fierce that it was nailed to a cross for me over two thousand years before I even drew my first breath. Why would He go to such dramatic lengths for me if He had no interest in a relationship with me?

In her revised study "Breaking Free," Beth Moore states, "No matter what time of night you roll over in the bed and become conscious, you will catch God in the middle of a thought about you." What a beautiful and woundrous image. But then... how could He not be thinking of one He loves so much?

The Sweetness of Sacrifice

Although most commonly associated with Catholicism, the dietary restraint practiced during Lent certainly crosses all denominational lines. The practice of sacrificing something of importance from one’s diet – be it meat or something more indulgent – is meant to center one’s mind on the sacrifice of Christ. Ordinarily, this also accompanies a deliberate, disciplined study of Scripture and/or adherence to prayerful meditation on Jesus.

My husband always “gives up” his three largest culinary indulgences – soda, chips, and dessert. Unlike traditional Lenten guidelines, he abstains from these for all forty days. Although I suspect he is motivated as much by the healthy benefits of the practice as the spiritual ones, it’s nonetheless an impressive feat of will-power and discipline, made more impressive by the fact that he never utters a single word of complaint. Yet in essence, what he’s doing with his physical diet is what we should all consider doing with our spiritual diets – purging what is unnecessary, unhealthy, and even harmful to make way for the nutritive love of our Lord.

Fasting and other forms of sacrifice in honor of God are noble practices that, when executed safely and from a genuine heart, produce a greater understanding of and closeness with God. My mother in-law stumbled on perhaps even a nobler observance of Lent years ago, when she suggested that we focus more on giving to others than on taking from ourselves. Her idea was rendered jokingly, from a humble acknowledgement that despite her love for God, she simply lacked the will-power to sacrifice her favorite foods. But her idea warrants some serious consideration, doesn’t it? After all, serving others from a faithful heart is what faith in Christ is all about.

Whether or not we engage in any specific, formal spiritual practice during Lent, we are called to prepare our hearts for the ultimate sacrifice of our Lord, and for His ultimate victory on our behalf. Dedicating ourselves to prayer, studying the Word, serving others, or sacrificing something of luxury or importance – all of these are good ways to center ourselves on God alone. Despite centuries-old traditions of the church around the globe, the end result of the process matters more to God than the means by which we arrive there.

On Easter Sunday – only after giving thanks and eating the meal his family has lovingly prepared, my husband finally enjoys a piece of carrot cake and perhaps a Mountain Dew. But the sweetness of such treats pales in comparison to the satisfaction of the life found in our risen Lord. Even if we never indulged in a savory dessert the rest of our lives, we can be filled with Jesus. The sweetness of His sacrifice is immeasurable.

Will You Be Mine?

This is love! It is not that we loved God but that He loved us. For God sent His Son to pay for our sins with His own blood. (1 John 4:10)

Like most ladies out there, I like some flowers or perhaps a little chocolate from my man to celebrate special occasions, like Valentine's Day. It's the day-to-day devotion and commitment that mean the most, but every once in a while, a thoughtful gift from someone you love just plain feels good. My favorite gift to give is a card containing a personalized, hand-written message letting the receiver know how much they mean to me and what is so special about them.

Candy hearts and perfumed roses are lovely, but there is a far greater gift that all of us are able to receive, whether or not we have a significant other in our lives. This gift was given a long time ago, but its impact is every bit as meaningful today. It doesn't smell pretty, nor does it come in a sparkling package. Unlike flowers, which wilt and must be given anew when the circumstances dictate, this gift was given only once but shall last for all eternity. There is nothing we've done to deserve this gift, nor any obligation on the part of the giver to give it. He simply gave this gift to us all for one simple reason: He loves us. It is the unsurpassed gift of God's Son.

From the weathiest among us to the poorest, from the long-married to the lonesome, from the joyous to the troubled at heart...the gift of Jesus is for each of us. The depth of God's love, that He would sacrifice His one and only Son to redeem us, is unfathomable for our feeble and wandering minds to fully comprehend. We are joined to God forever, saved, redeemed and made righteous through His life-giving grace. This gift was costly to God, but given freely from the depths of a love humankind has never known otherwise.

Valentine's Day has a cultural history worth repeating and celebrating, if only to boost the economy through greeting card sales. But on this "day of love," whether you have experienced love from another in this world or not, the ultimate Gift awaits all mankind. It's wrapped in blood-stained burial cloths behind a stone. Cupid's sharpest arrow cannot penetrate the depths of our hearts as can the love of our Lord nailed to a cross on Calvary. The roses will wilt, the chocolate will dry out, the greeting card will wither to dust. God's gift is forever.

The precious ink of Jesus' blood spells a timeless message for us all: My child, will you be mine?

Making Joyful Noises

I love that the Bible tells us to "make a joyful noise unto the Lord," rather than "make beautiful, melodious noises unto the Lord." You see, I dearly love to sing, but my talent falls far short of my desire. As many of the ladies in the choir will likely confirm, I can sing a small set of notes within the alto range, but only if I have other, stronger voices and/or a CD to guide me. If I were forced to sing a solo, I would sound as off-key as the poor folks in "American Idol" auditions who erroneously believe they have talent.

A couple of years ago, I read the book "90 Minutes in Heaven," by Don Piper, a true account of a minister who died in a car accident and spent an hour and a half in Glory before returning to life on earth in his revived body. I am deeply moved by Mr. Piper’s frustration in finding words adequate enough to describe what heaven is like. One of his descriptions that is especially difficult to comprehend – but no less thrilling – is of the sound in heaven. He describes it as too many voices to count and too many instruments to identify, all endlessly singing and playing different glorious tunes that somehow meld together to create the most perfect noise imaginable. Such untamed noise would be agonizing to us here on earth, but in heaven it is as perfect as the One to whom it is directed. How wondrous a thought!

Of course, it is not just music that creates a joyful noise. As Amy Grant reminds us in her song "Better than a Hallelujah," God longs to hear our voices lifted to Him in a variety of ways – including from the depths of our sorrow. If the noise we create is directed towards communing with our God, He is not concerned with how pretty it sounds. Just as looking put-together and stylish for worship is meaningless to God, so too is the package in which our praise is presented. Any noise lifted to Him from a humble and grateful heart is in perfect pitch.

For many years, I drove forty minutes each way to and from my job. My route took me through mostly rural areas where I felt free to belt out whatever song came across my radio. Songs by Casting Crowns were my favorites, drawing the attention of many a passing cow over the years. Now, I travel a much shorter and busier route to work. I’m still adjusting to the sideways glances and looks of amusement I elicit from other drivers, ever self-conscious of how I must look and sound. Added to that is my daughter’s brutally honest assessment of my singing when we’re at home: when I sing, she covers her ears. It’s enough to humble anyone into silence!

Regardless of what fellow travelers, cows, or even my daughter may think, I have no intention of being quiet. After all, I’m not auditioning in front of millions of TV viewers on "American Idol." If God is the One to whom I sing, then the quality of my voice does not matter. He will not tell me to hire a vocal coach and try again next year. When we all make a joyful noise unto the Lord, we become part of the gloriously perfect melody of His creation, faithfully rehearsing for the choir of the heavenly host. It is silence from God’s people, not noise, that is deafening.

So, sing away, fellow travelers on God’s road! Let me know if you need an alto for your song…

The Hurdle of Self-Forgiveness

"If My people who are called by My name put away their pride and pray, and look for My face, and turn from their sinful ways, then I will hear from heaven. I will forgive their sin, and will heal their land." (2 Chronicles 7:14)

We’ve all heard the saying, "It’s easier to forgive an enemy than a friend," something I’m sure many of us have found to be true in our lives. We expect people we know and trust to always treat us well, to never hurt or betray us. When they do, the hurt and betrayal are felt more deeply. But what about forgiving ourselves? I don’t know about you, but I tend to expect more from myself than anyone else. I know what I’m capable of, so I know what to expect of myself. When I make a mistake, when I commit a sin of some kind, it disappoints me greatly, sometimes to the extent that I hold a grudge against myself. Can you relate?

I recently read a story from an inmate who is serving a life sentence for murdering his wife. He has accepted responsibility for what he’s done, and he has accepted salvation through Christ, but he cannot find it in him to forgive himself. Not only did he kill his wife, but he also used and abused countless people in order to facilitate his drug addiction. All of this was a heavy emotional burden for a man already enduring the precarious reality of life behind bars. With the encouragement of a Christian sponsor, this man finally came to the realization that he was being selfish. By refusing to forgive himself – when Jesus already had – he was denying both of them the fullness of a relationship God intends for us all.

If we are unable to forgive ourselves for past sin, we are in essence denying what Christ did for us on the cross. We are claiming a wisdom and judgment above God Himself. God formed us in His image, to glorify Him and to accomplish His will on the earth that He created. He loves us so much that He sacrificed His one and only son on our behalf, so that we may be forgiven and redeemed. If God thinks enough of us to forgive us the sins that required Christ’s sacrifice, then is it not appropriate for us to forgive ourselves? Forgiving sin does not erase its impact. We all have a duty to learn from our mistakes, so that we may follow the Lord more closely. But dwelling on those mistakes – and our "rottenness" for committing them – only keeps us separated from a loving God who gave everything to be with us.

Is there a sin for which you haven’t forgiven yourself? Have you made such a terrible mistake, hurt someone so badly, that you wear it like a scarlet letter? God commands us to forgive one another, but "one another" includes oneself. All our sins - even the ones we deem unforgivable - were nailed to the cross long ago. It's time we left them there and joined Christ in a life redeemed through Him. I may not have murdered anyone, but among the many sins of which I'm guilty is refusing to forgive myself for past wrongs. When Jesus appeared to the disciples after Calvary, His scars were present, but the sins that caused them had been erased. Our perfect God forgives His imperfect, but repentent children. It's time we dare to forgive ourselves.

More Than Words

Dear Dr. King,

I was born about a decade after you were killed. The unrest you faced in our nation has been relayed to me only through textbooks and relatives who lived on the outskirts of the turmoil. The words you penned and so bravely spoke inspire me as a writer and a lover of Jesus. I searched through a list of quotes from you, with the plan of using one of them as a premise for this written remembrance of you. Not only is it nearly impossible to choose a single line from your beautifully articulated arsenal, but to simply quote you seems inadequate and perhaps not at all what you intended.

A couple of years ago, I attended a small meeting at the State Library in Columbus, Ohio. Prior to the meeting, I perused the library shelves for something interesting, ever eager to get my hands on good writing. My eye was drawn to a small book that appeared so old that it might crumble to be touched. Inside was a collection of essays from politicians in 19th Century America, outlining the argument for the abolition of slavery. Their arguments were very much the same as yours, and every bit as compelling. All too easily, I shook my head and thought, ‘How could people not agree with this?’

As I write today, our nation is observing your contribution as a great civil rights leader. Reading the quotes I’ve found from you, I again shake my head in disbelief that anyone could challenge the truth of your words. But it occurs to me that believing the truth of something, and choosing to act on that truth, are two vastly different things. Maybe I don’t mistreat people of a different race than me, but what am I doing to combat the mistreatment I see and hear all around me? What am I doing to address the crushing, widespread poverty in this country, in my own backyard? As you were fond of reminding us, apathy is just as bad as perpetration, which makes me as guilty as the lynch mobs of your time. I am a modern-day Saul, checking the coats of those who have come to stone Stephen. I must actively seek God's transformation of me into a Paul.

I admire you as a writer, for expressing truth using a magnificent balance of passion and logic, but I admire you so much more for your fearless adherence to living out that truth through relentless action. The civil rights movement of the 1960s might be long gone, but injustice, oppression and indifference of many kinds are ever-present. The world sorely needs a dose of your courage, starting with me. For, as you said, “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”

Rest well, Dr. King. I look forward to meeting you in Glory.

The Answer in the Opportunity

Recently, I was watching the movie "Evan Almighty," starring Steve Carell as a Washington politician who is called by God to build an ark. At the end of the movie, Evan is standing in a field near a tree talking to God, played by Morgan Freeman. The exact context of the conversation eludes me now, but I was particularly struck by something "God" said. He said (and I’m paraphrasing), "If someone prays for courage, do you think I suddenly endow him with incredible bravery? No, I give him an opportunity to be courageous. If you pray for a closer relationship with your wife, do you think I wave a magic wand that instantly fills you with passion? No, I give you an opportunity to love."

It makes you think, doesn’t it? Oftentimes when we pray, we have a specific problem or issue we’re worried about and we’re seeking a quick and finite answer. We wait impatiently for the miraculous to happen, for God’s extended arm to descend from heaven, literally nudging us in the direction He wants us to go. Even if the answer was not what we hoped for or expected, it would be nice if prayers were answered in such a clear and obvious way. But while we’re waiting for God’s answer to our prayers, we often ignore the pulse of life around us – which is where God lives, breathes, and speaks to us.

For several years, I worked as a crisis counselor for rape and abuse victims, traveling to hospital ERs to support many women, a few men, and lots of teenagers through the painful process of being examined for evidence, treated for injury, and interviewed for the criminal justice process. After about four years of this, I was feeling a little burned out and I prayed to God for guidance. He had called me to this work in the first place, so I felt I needed His permission to even consider leaving. Weeks went by with no obvious answer and I was growing restless.

Then, I was called to the hospital to speak with a young woman who had been victimized. She was convinced that the crime she had suffered was punishment from God for being rebellious, and that she was going to go to hell. From talking further with her, I discovered she believed in Christ and always had. I told her, "I’ve got good news for you – you can’t go to hell. Jesus won’t let you. He loves you too much." She sobbed in my arms for the next hour, broken and bruised, but reassured in the truth of her faith. In eight years, through 600 cases, this was the one and only time a victim chose to discuss his/her faith with me. God was talking. I worked four more years.

Late last year, I gave up my career as a crisis counselor and accepted a completely different job as a grant-writer, a decision fraught with much angst and prayer. Although I felt relieved to leave behind such an emotionally demanding job and to utilize my writing skills more, I still craved God’s input on my decision. Did He understand why I needed to leave? Was He disappointed that I had abandoned the work He had called me to do? Recently, a man who had been indirectly associated with my former workplace emailed me to ask if I’d be willing to help him grow a ministry he had established. The ministry provides support to those who’ve been abused. Among the services I will eventually provide is helping victims to verbalize their emotions, and to tell their stories of hope and recovery - in writing.

Indeed, the answer to prayer often lies in the opportunities God places in our paths, if we are willing to be still and pay attention.