twisted

“They put a purple robe on him, then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on him.” Mark 15:17 (NIV)

“A certain man from Cyrene, Simon, the father of Alexander and Rufus, was passing by on his way in from the country, and they forced him to carry the cross.”  Mark 15:21 (NIV)

Simon is carrying the cross for Jesus, and Jesus will carry Simon’s sins while on that cross.  I’m struck by the beauty, cruel as it is, of the symbiosis between Simon and Jesus in this scene.  Swirling, tornadic beauty that both men are now swept up together in — even “twisted together” in as the crown of thorns was twisted together, but this twisting together is not one of mockery but of shared life and love.  I feel inspired by this beauty, this life and love.  I am in awe.

Thank you, Holy Father, for your beauty and love — for the many ways that you take the worst of humanity and turn it into the very best.  Only you can do that.  I am amazed by you, in awe of you and thankful for how you reveal yourself to me when I need it most.  I’m so grateful that you are good to me and to all that you’ve created.

Amen!

enough

“Jesus said, ‘For a brief time still, the light is among you.  Walk by the light you have so darkness doesn’t destroy you.  If you walk in darkness, you don’t know where you’re going.’”  John 12:35 (The Message)

I am drawn to the phrase “Walk by the light you have so darkness doesn’t destroy you.”  (My own italics added)  It seems filled with deeper insights for me; truths that I have experienced along the way.  This is truth:  God gives me enough “light” to see and walk by each day, but sometimes it’s not enough to satisfy my desire or make me feel comfortable or secure.  God won’t always give me the amount of light (insight and/or understanding) that my ego desires.  I may long for more light than what I possess, but I don’t actually need more to walk by faith.  Having the amount of light I want often tempts me to feel safe and secure in what I know — not in who I know (God).  Insisting, or obsessing, upon obtaining more light than what I have can easily lead me down an even darker path, destroying what tenuous amount of inner peace I do possess.  If I chose to fully appreciate and embrace the light that God provides, believing it to be more than enough (even though I feel inadequate with it), then the darkness won’t be able to destroy my faith or inner peace.  I can continue to trust in God, even when I feel lost, perplexed, abandoned or devastated by my circumstances.  When I am in a dark place (you’ll notice that I said “when”, not “if”), I can trust God to provide the light that I actually need not only to survive, but to thrive as well.  

Thank you, Father, for light in dark places that is enough.

Amen! 

lament

Dear Lord, Abba Father, you have healed many wounds in my heart, soul and spirit through the years, the decades.  I know that you have seen needs and wounds that I could not look at, and you have gently debrided and cleansed and healed them all.  Thank you.

But now my body is failing me simply because I am growing old.  Lord Jesus, you who never felt the ravages of old age, how can you empathize with me now?  You suffered horrible wounds, but they passed from you quickly, in a matter of hours, through the coming of your death.  My pain lingers on, year after year after year, and grows worse with each passing day.  In what way have you gone before me, to lead me through my physical decline?

I am your humble follower, human in every way.  Forgive me of my sins, my doubts, my grumbling and my lack of deep trust and reliance upon you.

I do not ask that you heal me of this degenerative disease.  I know that it is a reasonable companion — evidence that you have sustained and blessed me with long life so far.  But I do ask that you would use my suffering to make me more and more like Christ — fully human and yet divine, a bearer and sharer of your mercy, love and grace.  Nothing more fully embodies despair than to suffer in vain, for no purpose or gain.  Let my suffering produce transformation within my heart, spirit and soul — transformation that fills me to overflowing; an overflow of love, compassion and grace that impacts everyone around me.  Give me strength and courage to suffer well.

“You are my precious child always, regardless of your earthly age.  I will be with you.  I will walk through this with you.  I will produce the very nature of Christ within you through your pain.”

Thank you for your generous mercy and grace.  Thank you for the depth of your love for me — deeper than the deepest depth that I can imagine.  Thank you for bringing me into union with you through the vehicle of my earthly physical pain.

Amen!

 

testing

“Afterward, the Holy Spirit led Jesus into the lonely wilderness in order to reveal his strength against the accuser by going through the ordeal of testing.”  Matthew 4:1 (TPT)

Jesus had just spent 40 days in a desert wilderness where he’d experienced total isolation from all human interaction, food, water, creature comforts, safety, etc.  It’s not surprising when Scripture says that at the end of this time, Jesus was extremely hungry.  And if that wasn’t horrible enough, this isolation (and deprivation) was followed by Satan’s attempts to manipulate and use Jesus for his own purposes and pleasures.  He swooped in during Jesus’ vulnerable condition with three “offers” that both questioned Jesus’ identity and his ability to live up to his identity.  As he goaded Jesus towards falling into his traps, Satan’s disrespect and loathing for Jesus were apparent.  However, Jesus didn’t succumb to the goading.  He turned Satan’s yearning attempts for power into a demonstration of his own real power.  I can only imagine how jealous Satan must have felt, as well as, humiliated and furious!

My question in all of this is, “Why?”  Why was it necessary for Jesus to experience these traumas in the first place, let alone for what must have felt like an unending amount of time.  I find the answer in The Passion Translation of the above verse: “in order to reveal his strength against the accuser”.  The purpose of this testing was to reveal to Jesus the power that already dwelt within him; what it was, how it felt, and how to draw upon and use it properly and appropriately at all times.  Jesus needed to know these things before he could really begin to do the work that he’d been sent to do.  This horrible test was not only a preparation, but also a purification for his role as Messiah.  We’ve all heard that absolute power corrupts absolutely, and the man Jesus could have fallen prey to this truth just the same as the rest of us.  I have no doubt that Jesus could have zapped Satan right then and there; he may have even done so had Satan accosted him prior to experiencing this test.  Satan was (and still is) a master manipulator, and Jesus needed the knowledge and confidence that this experience would provide — knowledge and confidence in his ability to beat Satan at his games while always remaining true to himself, to his nature and to his desired purposes.  He had to know how to wield power with love.

This kind of testing is common to all of humanity.  I’ve experienced many tests of this kind — hard, dark times that felt as if they would never end.  As I look back over these times now, I can see that the answer to my question of “Why?” is no different.  Each experience has revealed more of my true nature to me, and shown me the real choices that I have before me.  I’ve been given the opportunity to observe and acknowledge the pitfalls of my faults (and neuroses) and to explore new ways of thinking, feeling, and responding to the life that I was living.  I’ve been given the time to see what needs to change in order for me to have the new life that I long to live.  I’ve also had my strengths and inward beauty revealed to me as things that I can draw upon and use to serve myself and others well.  It truly sucks that this kind of growth and refinement only seem to come as a result of leaning into and embracing times of isolation, deprivation and pain, but that does seem to be the case.  These horrible tests have always had a purpose that is good, for myself and for everyone around me, because they have moved me closer and closer to the purest form of my true self — the only self that can glorify God.

Perhaps our current pandemic situation finds you experiencing a similar time of testing.  It has been so for me.  As I continue to wait for the pandemic to end, I hear God say to me:  “Welcome this test and take it seriously.  Much change for the good can come from it, for you and for all of humanity.  Embrace this test as a friend, and trust me to bring you one step closer to all that you are meant to be in my love.”

Amen!      

light

“ . . . No one who follows me stumbles around in the darkness.  I provide plenty of light to live in.” John 8:12 (The Message)

“You decide according to what you can see and touch.  I don’t make judgments like that.”  John 8:15 (The Message)

 

I have certainly spent a fair amount of my life in some rather dark places—places where I felt or perceived absolutely no light at all.  And yet, I’m still here today following Jesus.  Amazing!  Jesus’ sight and judgment are “other worldly”.  I cannot perceive or understand them on my own.  Jesus graciously takes me by the hand and guides me through dark places—places where I can see and sense nothing, not even Jesus at times—towards the place where I can perceive His light again.  I don’t know why He’s chosen to do this for me, why His love and care for me are so great, but I am deeply grateful and thankful for it!

As I listen for God’s voice, in the current place of darkness that I find myself walking through, I hear Jesus say to me:

“I am providing plenty of light for you to walk with me through this difficult time.  Trust me, by holding tightly onto me, and I will guide you through to the light you seek.”

Thank you, Jesus, for your light, love and care.  Amen!

cairn

 

Cave Point, Door Co., WI – Version 2

 

“Jesus responded, “Listen to me.  If my followers were silenced, the very stones would break forth with praises.” Luke 19:40 (TPT)

As I approach the shoreline, I’m surprised to find something unexpected waiting for me.  The shoreline is simple, rocky and rugged, filled with small tidal pools (the water level is high).  The sky is a foggy blue and hosting a few gulls in flight.  I’m familiar with this scene, which is quiet and peaceful apart from the sound of waves upon the rocks and the gull’s occasional cries.  It’s a solitary scene – there’s not another human being in sight.  However, there is evidence of human presence all around me in the form of cairns – stone towers of varying shapes, sizes and heights; too many for me to count.  As I study some of the towers more closely, I’m amazed by their height and ability to remain standing.  Some stones are large and flat, good for stacking.  Some of the stones are small, unusually shaped and precariously placed.  These towers boggle my mind; the balancing act that keeps them upright defies my comprehension.  I’m in awe of their ability to stand at all, let alone through the movement of the waves.  As I ponder this marvel, Luke 19:40 pops into my mind.  I smile as I consider these stones; they have life and purpose, too, and I’m compelled to listen to their story.  They have something to teach me about God, and they offer me a sense of comfort and awe in the presence of this mystery.  They share a lesson in how God’s building techniques differ from those of mankind.  They also proclaim to me that I’m not alone on this earth – God’s creation is all around me at all times, being and living to enjoy their Creator.  I feel God’s loving presence in each cairn, wave and gull, and I’m thankful for the message of wonder and praise that they give.

As I quietly listen, I hear God say:

“My beloved child, everything that I build is built with wonder and mystery.  Many will look on and scoff at the simplicity of style, the unlikeliness of the materials that I choose and the ordinariness of the location itself.  Mankind looks for polish and finesse, things to puff the ego and impress.  I don’t build to puff or impress.  My building plan goes much deeper.  I build to bewilder the certain and delight the confused.  You will never be able to explain or understand how I build: in nature, in life, in love, in work and service, in relationships, in communities, in the hearts and souls of mankind, in anything.  But if you pay attention, you will know when I am the builder and when I am not.  My creations will always perplex, amaze, and mystify.  Keep your heart open and your mind free of concern; let my creations delight you.  Be available to be transparent and vulnerable as I call you to be.  Receive the redemption and transformation that I am building within you and through you.  Marvel at what my methods produce both in you and in others around you.  Entrust yourself to my mysterious methods and ways; they are tried and true.  Lean into my presence and follow me.”

 

miracle

“But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”  John 11:22 (NIV)

Martha is speaking to Jesus. She and her sister, Mary, have just lost their brother, Lazarus, who died four days earlier.  The unmarried sisters lived with their brother, and they all shared an intimate friendship with Jesus.  It appears that Martha has long filled the “mother” role: anticipating and perceiving needs, reviewing available resources, discerning what else must be acquired, completing tasks and getting the job done.  Perhaps Martha is doing that now regarding her and her sister’s future. These sisters live in a time and place where women are poorly valued; without an adult male to be aligned with, they are at the mercy of those who might be convinced to care and completely vulnerable to anyone who wants to take advantage of them.  Living with their brother provided Martha and Mary with the status, respect and protection they needed to survive, and now he is gone. Martha has always believed that Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah, the Son of God . . . but now?  In her loss and grief, when all status, provision and protection have been stripped from her and her sister, even now she knows that God will give Jesus whatever he asks for.  She is trusting and expecting that her dear friend and Messiah, Jesus, will ask God to provide for her needs, today and always.  An old word, not much heard today, comes to mind: stalwart.  Martha’s faith in Jesus is stalwart, impressively so.  She is believing in Jesus for a miracle!  Martha listens as Jesus begins to speak of resurrection, fully believing that Lazarus will be resurrected at the end of time.  She doesn’t begin to imagine that Lazarus will be resurrected before the end; being a human creature of earth, why would she? But she does have a miracle in mind. Perhaps, after so many years of being single, God will now provide good husbands for Martha and Mary; after all, alignment with a good man is what they have both lost and what they could both use now.  Is marriage the miracle that she is expecting?  Jesus tells her that he is resurrection and life now, and he asks her, “Do you believe this?”  Martha responds to Jesus’ question in the affirmative, and then she runs to tell Mary that Jesus is here and asking for her.

I am so impressed with Martha.  She is a person who knows how to get the job done, yet she doesn’t rely upon herself to provide for herself and her sister—this she leaves in the good and capable hands of Jesus.  In her severe pain, her belief in Jesus has not wavered.  I suspect that she’s simply believing in Jesus for a different miracle than the one he already plans to perform on her behalf.  I laugh with joy and excitement as I anticipate what is coming her way, and I wish I could be there to witness the experience!

As for me, I am currently experiencing circumstances that are causing me great pain.  I feel confused, disappointed, angry, helpless, fearful and heartbroken.  And I hear Jesus asking me the same thing that he asked Martha, “Do you believe this?”  I want to believe in Jesus for a miracle.  I am willing to believe in Jesus for a miracle.  I am trying to believe in Jesus for a miracle.  I am asking Jesus for a miracle.  Like Martha, I do have a miracle in mind, but I am beginning to realize that Jesus may already have a different miracle planned.  As I sit with this, I hear Jesus say to me:

“My beloved child, I know that you believe in me.  I know all that you believe, and your belief brings me great joy!  However, there is so much more that you do not know and have not yet experienced.  Therefore, there is still so much more that you have yet to believe.  Do not be discouraged when I ask you, “Do you believe this?”  I am simply introducing you to more and deeper knowledge and experience of myself, and I will ask you to believe more and deeper each step along the way.  Just like Martha, your faith is strong and you are well on your way!  Follow me. Your adventure with me has just begun!”

Ok!  Amen!

 

soil

“Now you are ready to listen to the revelation of the parable of the sower and his seeds: . . .” Matthew 13:18 (TPT)

The parable of the sower recounts the tale of a farmer who goes out to sow seeds. As he sows, some of the seeds fall on the hard beaten path where the seeds can only lie on the surface waiting to be eaten by birds. Some seeds fall on gravel where the seeds sprout up quickly but wilt just as quickly when exposed to hot sun and no rain because they have no roots to sustain them. Some seeds fall among weeds where the seeds sprout but are overtaken and suffocated by the heartier weeds. And some seeds fall on good soil, soil that’s been carefully prepared, making it a receptive host for the seeds. These seeds sprout, grow, thrive and produce a harvest that exceeds the farmer’s wildest dreams.

Through the years, I’ve heard a variety of sermons preached on this parable and its intended meaning. I’ve listened as the four types of soil were related to the hearts and lives of four different types of people. Some people are hard beaten soil, some are gravel, some are filled with weeds and some are good soil. And there always seems to be exhortations for each kind of soil to make whatever changes are necessary for it to become the good type. But that hasn’t been my experience.

I have been all of these types of soil, and I have little doubt that I still am. This is my human reality: I can be each of these soils at different times and all of them simultaneously. I can be good soil regarding one aspect of my heart and being while being a hard beaten path regarding a different aspect of who I am and how I live. I can’t help but wonder how many seeds are continuously scattered upon me by the Holy Spirit that never even have a chance to germinate in my heart, let alone take root and produce a harvest? Far too many to count, I’m sure. Yet, the Holy Spirit keeps on sowing. I know this to be true; otherwise, there would be no evidence of any fruitfulness in my life at all. But I have experienced some pretty amazing fruit—harvests that have certainly exceeded my wildest dreams of what would happen or could even be possible.

Is there anything that I can do to prepare my own heart to be receptive to these seeds? I’ve heard all kinds of ideas on that subject, too. I have experienced only one thing that seems to make a real difference in the condition of my soil: humility. If I’m willing to be real with myself and with God, I’m much more likely to see change occur. Not that I’m capable of producing that change, but I am more changeable. After all, the soil is just the soil—not the farmer who prepares it, not the seed that sprouts and grows and produces fruit in it. I’m very grateful that the Holy Spirit continues to sow seeds upon me whether the soil of my heart is “good” or not.

Thank you, Father Son and Holy Spirit, for your mercy and grace. Thank you for continuing to prepare the soil of my heart, more and more, over time. Thank you for continuing to sow seeds within me whether I’m ready and willing to take them in or not. Thank you for producing your fruit within me. Thank you for never giving up on me. Thank you for loving me and working with me just as I am. I love you. All that I am is because of you.

Amen!

shine

“Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:15, 16 (The Message)

This passage of talk about being salt and light for the world has always elicited mixed emotions in me. For decades, I’ve heard far too many exhortations using this passage from the pulpit and fellow Christians to boldly evangelize everything and everyone around me, leaving me feeling like a second-rate Christian at best. This charge to be open with my life, generously sharing my life and being with others, goes against my personality and temperament. First of all, I am an introvert. My personality type is that of a 5 on the enneagram and an INFP on the Meyers Briggs scale (if that means anything to you). By nature, I am quiet, reserved, thoughtful, sensitive, deeply intuitive, intelligent, protective of my privacy and space, cautious and untrusting towards people that I don’t know but deeply engaging with people that I know and feel comfortable with. When I do interact with others, I prefer to do so in a one-on-one or small group manner, and I have little interest in superficial small talk. I accept and enjoy the way that God has made me, and I am content. However, being “salt and light for the world”, especially the kind that glows brightly from a hilltop that everyone near and far can easily see, does not come naturally to me! It feels frighteningly overwhelming! If I were asked to put myself out there in this manner for any other reason, my response would be a very quick “No, thank you!” But since this charge is for the sake of others, and is pleasing to God, it sounds a bit more appealing—still an unpleasant and stretching challenge for me, but more appealing all the same.

I appreciate how The Passion Translation puts this in terms of being the kind of salt and light that is beneficial to everyone in the house. The inside of my house is not glaring brightly on a hilltop for all to see, it’s much more intimate, personal and real—something that I feel much more comfortable with, even with strangers. As odd as it may sound considering how I’ve described myself, I am willing to share my life and being with others, even painful or humiliating truths and experiences, if I sense that it will benefit them in any way. All humans are unique, made with painstaking cleverness and creativity on God’s part. Therefore, all humans will respond to and obey God’s charges in ways that are unique to them—unique to the person that God created them to be. We all have our own unique ways of fulfilling the charge to “shine”.

As I sit quietly with this passage of Scripture, I hear God’s gentle invitation to me:

     “My child, trust me to place you where you will be of most benefit to yourself and others—both among those you see regularly and those who are strangers to you. Trust me to be involved in each and every interaction that you have. Know that no part of yourself that you share with others will ever be lost or shared in vain. I am not wasteful with your life, your love or your being. Remember, nothing is ever wasted with me. Be anxious for nothing. Come, and follow me.”    

plan

“He spoke plainly about this, and Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter.  . . . ‘You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.’” Mark 8:32,33 NIV

Poor Peter!  He responds to Jesus’ words as someone whose dearest loved one has just announced that they have been fatally diagnosed and only have weeks to live.  Denial, objection, determined to find a cure and fight to the bitter end—I can almost hear Peter say, “We can beat this! You must live!”  Peter is stunned but not stopped, determined to find the solution that will bring about what he desires most of all.  Peter is just as resolute in this moment (that Jesus should live and reign) as Jesus is (that he must die and be resurrected)—perhaps even more so. But Jesus won’t allow himself or his other disciples to be swayed by Peter’s temporal focus, and he sets the record straight.  How hard this must have been for all of them—a moment, a time and a truth that was drenched in deep, deep sorrow.

As I reflect on this story, I realize that Peter’s desire that Jesus live and reign was perfectly in line with God’s plan; however, his timing and manner of execution were all wrong. Just like Peter, we humans often have deep longings and desires that are perfectly in line with God’s plan for our lives and beings.  And just like Peter, our timing and manner of execution frequently involves avoiding the necessity of waiting and suffering and sacrifice—things that must be involved to make it all holy.  Peter wants the glory without the pain; he wants it to be easily acquired and he wants it now (for Jesus, himself and all the others).  But experiencing the process of being disentangled from this world so you can be fully invested in God’s kingdom takes time, and it involves suffering and the loss of personal sacrifice—letting go of the false before you can grab ahold of the true.  Peter is learning, though, as we all must—the hard way.  This hardship has its cost, but also its benefit.  Hope emerges as we embrace and endure the sufferings, losses and sacrifices along the way.  This is the means by which our hope is made true, pure and indestructible.

God bless Peter.  God bless us all.

Amen!