Something About The Joy

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:2) I remember when joy finally unpacked its bags and settled down to become a permanent resident in my heart. It was a major milestone along the road on my spiritual journey. (Hmm. Mixed metaphor. How to fix? Okay, pretend I live in an RV.) Before then, joy came and went, staying overnight, or for a few weeks at a time. And even when it was here, the delight was always overshadowed by the spectre of death and pain that haunts our earthly existence—the threat of happenings in my life that could send it packing, or even destroy it altogether. Then one day it came to stay, with little fanfare, bringing its friend peace with it. I don’t remember the date, or the circumstances, just the quiet coming into the depths of my being in a way I knew was forever. Joy moved in when I finally

My friend, Diane, shared with me a story I’d like to pass along here. As she was driving one day, she heard this live report on the radio. A CBC reporter (Canadian Broadcasting Corp.) was traveling on a commuter train in Quebec and interviewing passengers at random. He came across a priest who was visiting people in the parishes along the way. The priest answered the reporter’s standard questions – “Why are you using the train? Where are you going?” etc. Then, in a very impromptu manner, the reporter said that he didn’t often get a chance to talk privately with a priest, and he had a question that he’d been curious about: “Do you ever wonder if all this stuff about God is true? Do you have moments of doubt?” The priest thought for a moment, then answered “Yes. In the middle of the night I wake up and wonder if it’s all a fantastic hoax. But I get up the next morning and I can’t explain the JOY any other way.” That’s why Christmas is so wonderful. It’s the promise of joy.

Hesed . The Hebrew word is used in the Old Testament to represent the kind of faithful, covenant love between God and His chosen people. A Hasidic Jewish commentator defines hesed as: “a consistent,ever-faithful,relentless,constantly-pursuing,lavish,extravagant,unrestrained,furious love.” How awesome. I want to embrace all this entails.

Our church is going through a difficult time. Actually, that’s an understatement. Everything that could go wrong in the process of transitioning from one pastor to another has happened to us. About the time we think we’ve weathered the worst of the storm, another huge wave breaks over our heads and more people are slammed down into the surf and come up spitting sand out of their teeth. I am a deacon, and I assumed, when this all began, that my job was to fix things. That’s what deacons do, right? So I spent my time frantically running from one chaotic situation to another, trying to right all the wrongs. But before I could accomplish much, I distinctly heard God say, “Ginny, I want you to quit trying to fix things. I’m not finished un-fixing things, and you’re just getting in my way.” Well. That was a surprise. Wasn’t God supposed to fix thing? To right wrongs? I’d always supposed so. But I was sure God had spoken, so I stepped back to reconnoitre. I began observing God at

Today I found an article in Christianity Today that contritutes more to my thinking on the Petals topic. Somehow it's related. Not sure how yet. Something about trusting instead of fixing. Believing instead of doing. Check it out if you like. http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2009/october/22.60.html Dang. I keep forgetting how to put web addresses in so you can access them directly. Help?

I’m sitting on the back deck having some quiet time with the Lord. Beautiful sunshine! One of the many things I have to be thankful for this Canadian Thanksgiving weekend. But thanks is not uppermost in my mind. As we begin to talk (or as I begin to talk) I notice the petunia needs pruning. So many dead leaves and blossoms. So I start pulling them off as I mutter. “God, please help my dear ones. You know how long and hard I’ve prayed for them and yet nothing has happened. Can’t you do something? I’ve invested so much in them you must know how important this is. They need your healing in their lives so badly. It seems to me like you should be doing something about this.” I mutter away, out loud, which means I can hear how it sounds, so I end up doing quite a bit of repenting: for my impatience with God, for my self-pity, for my lack of faith. Then all of a sudden I’m in tears. From out of nowhere. God, you know how much I love these people. It’s because I love them. I kno

It may be my imagination, but it seems lately I’ve become aware of the quiet moving of God in my life in a new way. I don’t know if He’s moving in a new way, or I’m just becoming aware of it. But it’s intriguing, and something I want to follow up on. Often, these days, when I’m working at the computer, or out and about around town, I get a sudden, sweet urge to go to prayer in a more focused way. The kind of prayer I’m drawn to in these moments is different than the more or less continual chatter I bombard Him with all day long—the kind that often degrades into self-talk, because I’ve become more focused on my problems than the One I’m talking to about them. These moments are delicate, so fleeting that they’re gone almost as soon as I realize they’ve come. Kind of like butterflies landing on your shoulder. And I’ve found they totally evaporate when they come and I think to myself, “Hmm. That’s nice. I’m going to go to prayer as soon as I finish this article, or when I get home fr

A Sonnet to Sophia Marie Jessie Mohr written the day she was born, October 4, 2007 by Grandma Jaques The rain-bowed clouds embrace your birth today. They promise grace for sunny skies and dim. Life spreads her wings to start you on your way, God takes your hand to lead your heart toward Him. Through your dear body run the threads of life That join us all in common ancestry. And through your spirit, as you’re led by Christ, Those threads will lead into eternity. The gracious plans the Master has for you Are mirrored in the glowing rainbow skies. We see them faintly veiled from earthly view As we look down into your misty eyes.

There are two kinds of people in the world. I love those general statements! They open you up to challenges on every side. Of course there are more than two kinds of people, but comparisons between two extremes sometimes help us see ourselves more clearly. This summer I presented a two-part sermon series to my church on trust. The messages were based on Jeremiah 2:13, where God accuses Israel of committing two sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that can hold no water. The imagery God uses here is powerful. He is an Artesian Spring, spurting out an abundant supply of clean, fresh water (representing life) constantly, forever. But Israel prefers to dig empty holes in the ground, with cracks in the bottom, and trust the rains will come once in a while to fill them up. If you walked for miles in a dry desert and came across a fountain of water spurting into the air and splashing down on the parched ground bene

Today is my little Zouxi's third birthday. She lives in the Dominican Republic with her Mama, Eridania, Dad, Andy, and brothers, Alex and baby Rowan. I still feel the same as I did when she was born and I wrote this poem: It’s hard to be a grandma Who lives so far away, When you’d love to give her kisses At least five times a day. It’s hard to wake up worried In the middle of the night, When you can’t go in and check her, To see if she’s all right. It’s hard to think she’s crying In someone else’s arms, When your arms long to hold her And soothe her baby storms. You’d so much love to tell her In words her heart could hear, That Jesus wants to be her friend And He is always near. But you have to make adjustments, so, To calm your fears and cares, If you can’t hold her in your arms You hold her in your prayers. You know that you can trust Him To watch her day by day. He loves her more than you do And He’s not too far away. And so I’ll be a grandma Who lives too far away, And spoil

We traditionally (at least in this culture) perceive imagination as being a method for creating ideas or things that have no foundation in reality. Things that are “imaginary” are not real. Novels are imagined. They are fictional. Children’s fantasies are shadows of reality, practices designed to prepare them to function in the “real” world. Often this is the case. Novels certainly are imagined, and child’s play is pretend. But I’m becoming convinced that this limited perception of imagination might be short-changing us. What if imagination is actually a gift from God, designed to allow us to “see” the unseen. To “see” Him? What if we were designed to use our imaginations to picture and better understand (and more readily believe in) unseen realities? There are dangers here, of course. It’s very possible to imagine things that do not exist. Relying on my imagination as a revelation of truth could put me out of touch with reality. And I’m leery of believing you can create re

Ha! I knew that title would get your attention. You want to know what my sins are, don’t you? Well, I might tell you. I don’t know yet. My sins are pretty personal and blogs are not. But I have been thinking about my sins this morning, with questions. The first question is, what are sins? I know what the “big” ones are—the ones the Ten Commandments tell us NOT to do. It’s pretty easy for me to avoid them. I currently have no thoughts of murder. I don’t even hate anyone, which Jesus says is the same thing. And in the forty years I’ve been married to my husband I’ve never even been tempted to commit adultery. Bearing false witness is definitely a no-no. Truth is too important to me. I can remember the two deliberate lies I told in my youth and the consequences were so excruciatingly painful I’ve been afraid to tell a lie since. At least not with malice and aforethought. Hmm. I’ve probably told some without noticing, or some that I’ve rationalized away before they could be

The clouds will lift. The mountains behind them will stand. I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord. Psalm 40:1-3

Who hath despised the day of small things? Zechariah 4:10 Today I post to my blog again in response to a small sermon I heard in a small church, in a small town this last Sunday. The pastor, Harold Gott, has faithfully served the Christian Church in Grangeville, Idaho, for many years. He spends time listening to God, then preaches the meat and potatoes of the Gospel to his parishioners. His messages are sprinkled with the salt of his down-home, apt illustrations and peppered with his own unique brand of humor. His people are heartened and encouraged and challenged to go out into their community and do good—to love people into God’s Kingdom. Last Sunday his sermon was about Dorcas—a small town woman in a small country who did a small thing faithfully. She sewed clothing for the poor widows in Israel. She “was always doing good,” and two thousand years later people are still reading her story. Harold pointed out that only three of Jesus’ disciples are even mentioned in the book

I’ve caught myself moaning to God throughout the day lately: “God, I need you.” I need Him to lift my spirits when I look at what’s happening in the world around me. I need Him for encouragement when people I’m praying for show no sign of responding to Him. I need Him for guidance as I make plans for my life. The niggling anxiety that drives me to cry out to Him in this way is probably part of creation’s groaning as we all wait together for His promised, final redemption. It’s a temporary necessity. But I’m realizing I don’t have to stay in the groaning state. The groans lead me to Him for a reason. He supplies all my need. He is all I need. So why do the groans keep coming? This morning I woke with a new revelation—a truth I “knew” all along but one that has not penetrated past the moan-center of my brain in a while. The truth is this: if I stay focused on the need, the plea is not answered. But if I shift my focus to His over-abundant grace and power, my heart finds rest

If prayer is talking with God, and God dwells in eternity, why do I feel I have to talk so fast? Why do I feel too rushed to listen for a while? I’ll tell you why. It’s not because God is looking at his watch. It’s because I’m looking at mine. How can I focus on what I’m saying, or, more importantly, on God, when I’m racing through my prayers to get past them to. . . . to what? What could be more important than spending time with my Creator? I know the right answer to that question: Nothing is more important. Spending “time” with the “eternal” God puts my life in perspective, connects me with my purpose, grounds me in the security of eternal realities. It puts me in a position to live an abundant life, in triumph over all the petty interruptions and disturbances of a broken world that is ruled by a God-defying being who would love to see me hurry through my times with God. That particular God-defying fallen angel is in a hurry, by the way. He knows his time is short. His reign is endin

I have great cousins. Another one put this youtube video on his Facebook site. When I viewed it, the Easter season was ushered in for me. Hope you enjoy it too. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1FQND5YFIqA

Just after posting Heights of Delight I opened my e-mail and found a message from my cousin with the following website. I listened and experienced the conscious presence of God. It brought tears of true worship to my eyes. http://pjcockrell.wordpress.com/2007/11/22/amazing-grace-just-the-black-note Enjoy!

In Heights of Delight , Dick Eastman describes three levels of awareness of the presence of God. The first, which he calls “God’s intellectual presence,” is simply the logical recognition that God is omnipresent, and therefore He is here. Though this awareness depends on faith, the faith is in factual claims and the faith, itself, is simply an unemotional acknowledgement of the facts. The second, “God’s conscious presence,” has the added impact of a sense, or a feeling of God’s presence. It may come out of a conscious intellectual recognition of the fact of God’s omnipresence, but it also involves the emotions and a spiritual, almost mystical discernment of some kind. The third is “God’s manifest presence,” which Eastman says is “far more intense,” and often results in an obvious movement of God’s Spirit and observable transformations in the lives of many individuals. He cites the miraculous movement of God’s Holy Spirit over cities and nations at the beginning of spiritual awa

I’ve said that worship comes naturally if we’re in the conscious presence of God. But what if it doesn’t? What if we go through all the steps, from submission to obedience, and we still don’t “feel” worship? Is something wrong? Is worship a feeling? Or is it, like love, sometimes simply a choice or an act? Could the process of drawing near to God, itself, be worship? Maybe we’ve already been doing it? I want the feelings. I want joy alongside the worship. But maybe it doesn’t always have to be there. Some of the most moving expressions of worship in the Bible are spoken out of great trial. In the midst of his suffering, Job says of God: Though he slay me, yet will I hope in Him .* He had to have been saying that through gritted teeth. He was in pain. The pain that might have robbed his worship of joy came from three sources, and we experience the same in our lives. First, Job suffered physical pain. When our bodies are afflicted, pain demands our attention. God knows

Finally, after a couple of little detour posts, we’re here, at the heart of renewal. For me, the heart of renewal is worship, and at the heart of worship is God, Himself. I’ve been eagerly waiting to get to this place, where the focus begins to shift from me and my stumbling efforts to the majesty of who He is. Renewal brings us into the conscious presence of God, and that’s where worship happens. Worship happens there naturally, because it’s the right and healthy response to being in the presence of our Good Creator. But here’s a hiccup in our journey: Is God really good? If He is good, why does he demand worship? Is he greedy for admiration and affirmation? Does He need us to inflate his ego? Sounds so selfish. Can God be selfish? Is it really all about Him? How can that be good? There are probably lots of good definitions of worship, but I like this one: The chief end of man is to love God and to enjoy Him forever. To love and enjoy. To take pleasure in God. It’s tr

That does it. The Spider Solitaire has got to go. I went to bed last night secure in the belief that God was my screensaver. My default mode. My desktop background. I was sure that any time my conscious mind was at rest it would revert to thoughts of Him. Well, I was right. This morning I woke up praying. That's right. I was already praying when I woke up. The problem is, I was asking Him to help me decide which of the three eights I should move to the nine.

Don't follow me. I get lost in the bathtub. If you don't believe me, just ask my husband. It's so bad that if I think I should turn right I turn left, since well over 50%of my judgements about which is the right direction are wrong. Hmmm. This might not be adding to my credibility, which is not a good thing since I want you to keep reading my blog. Let's just say my bad sense of direction is only geographical. I'm always right about everything else. Does that help? So don't follow me, but I'd love for you to follow my blog. I've just added a "Followers" application. (See lower lefthand column.) If you're a regular reader and are willing to admit it, why not sign in? It would be fun for me to see you there. Oops. This sign just fell off the wall. Do you think it's a message from God?

Okay, so I’m a little embarrassed about last night’s entry. I should probably never post my midnight musings. They tend to be a little too intimate and it makes me feel vulnerable. So we’ll leave that little spurt of quandrying behind. (Yes, you English buffs out there, I know quandrying is not a word.) I’d like to say two more things about obedience before we move on to the heart of this whole renewal topic: First, obedience is not as difficult as it might seem. And second, it is more difficult. Obedience is not difficult if we’ve prepared our hearts for renewal. Hearts softened and open toward Jesus will tend to obey instinctively. It’s a natural outcome, almost like breathing. Someone has said that living the Christian life is simply being “restfully available, and instantly obedient.” Being restfully available is the same as abiding* in Him. Abiding is the breathing in. And, although instant obedience does require an act of our will, when we make ourselves available, th

We are called to an everlasting preoccupation with God. A.W. Tozer Is this true? If it is, am I preoccupied with Him? Is his image my desktop background? My screensaver? Does my heart automatically rebound to His face when my busy life is still for a minute? I think so. But does that count as being preoccupied with Him? Lately I seem to be obsessed with God. Is that a good thing? Or is it a weakness—an imbalance? Where will it lead? Where do I go with it from here? I don’t know, But I have a peace about it.

Have you noticed that in our North American culture “obedience” has become a bad word? In a secular society, where God is no longer in charge, words like “authority,” “obedience” and “command” are evil. Without the rule of God, every person is his or her own authority. No one has a right to tell anyone else what to do. Even in elementary school, children are not taught to obey their parents. They are told, instead, to find their own way, create their own truth, and live their own lives. But when we, as Christians, dedicate our lives to God, we choose to come under His authority. We choose to obey His commands. We are not justified by our “good works,” but obedience is a natural outworking of our submission to Him. In the Jewish tradition, faith and action were the same thing. We tend to separate them out in our worldview, and because of that the desire of our heart to follow the Lord does not always lead to the actual following. Obedience puts feet to our decision to submit to

From man’s standpoint the most tragic loss suffered in the Fall was the vacating of [his spirit] by the Spirit of God. There God planned to rest and glow with moral and spiritual fire. Man by his sin forfeited this indescribably wonderful privilege and must now dwell there alone. By the mysterious operation of the Spirit in the new birth, that which is called by Peter “the divine nature” enters the deep-in core of the believer’s heart and establishes residence there. Such a one is a true Christian, and only such. A.W. Tozer In today’s post, I’d like to pursue the idea of spiritual receptivity a bit more, since it seems so important in renewing and maintaining a right relationship with God. If you’ve read this far, there’s a good chance you are spiritually receptive. If you weren’t you’d have gotten bored and left the blog long ago. But if you want reassurance in this area, there’s an easy test. I love my old King James Bible. My mother gave it to me when I graduated from high

Okay, time for a lighter moment again. A friend sent me this poem a while back and I think it's fits (loosely) into the current renewal idea. One night I had a wondrous dream, One set of footprints there was seen, The footprints of my precious Lord, But mine were not along the shore. But then some strange prints appeared, And I asked the Lord, "What have we here?" Those prints are large and round and neat, "But Lord, they are too big for feet." "My child," He said in somber tones, "For miles I carried you along. I challenged you to walk in faith, But you refused and made me wait." "You disobeyed, you would not grow, The walk of faith, you would not know, So I got tired, I got fed up, And there I dropped you on your butt." "Because in life, there comes a time, When one must fight, and one must climb, When one must rise and take a stand, Or leave their butt prints in the sand." -- author unknown My apologies to Margaret Fis

If you’re like me, you’ll find there’s a great gulf fixed between number one on our list of ways to prepare for renewal—relinquishment and recommitment—and number two—spending time with God. I always seem to get stuck on the far side of this chasm. It’s a puzzle. I really do believe I want God to be number one in my life, but I have a hard time actually making it happen. Making it happen is where the rubber hits the road, and I have to be careful at this point or I may find myself just adding pavement to the road to hell. Tozer discusses this issue: Why do some persons “find” God in a way that others do not? He has no favourites within His household. The difference lies not with God but with us. I venture to suggest that the one vital quality which the great saints had in common was spiritual receptivity. They differed from the average person in that when they felt the inward longing they did something about it. They acquired the lifelong habit of spiritual response. Recepti

The last two posts (not counting yesterday’s coffee break) have been heavy. I think that’s partly why I needed a break. All that business about dying to yourself—it’s kind of depressing, at least until you get past it to the peace part. So today I thought I’d climb up on a hill and look over all the humps in the road ahead and try to get a glimpse of the end of renewal. Yes, I know renewal won’t end in this life, but I need to know that things will get better, or at least that trudging along after renewal has its perks along the way. I am a selfish person. I never do anything unless there’s SOMETHING in it for me. Even praying for the salvation of other people has a selfish motive. I love the rush I get when someone comes to know Jesus. It feels so good. I’ve tried to fix this problem of selfishness, but so far I haven’t been able to. I’m sixty-two years old and I figure if it were fixable I’d have found the solution by now, so I’m about ready to give up. But this morning I woke up wit

Whew! This blogging business has plunked me down onto a steep learning curve. The first thing I’ve discovered is that it takes much time, sweat and prayer to post every day. Too much. I already feel pressured to “produce” by my own self-imposed schedule of daily posting, and the pressure is going to tempt me to splash thoughtless (and prayer-less) drivel all over the place if I try to keep up with that rigorous a schedule. I don’t want to do that. I’m humbled to think that anyone is reading this. I know how busy you are. I’m determined to make it worth your while. So, here’s the plan: I will only post when I’m ready to pass on something I think will be valuable to you. I sent some of you an e-mail with instructions on how to know (without looking) when there’s a new post. I told you to go to the orange “feed” icon at the top of the blog and sign up for it—that it would e-mail you when there’s something new. That bit of information was thoughtless drivel. It doesn’t work. I didn’t know

Every journey begins with one step. The first step in preparing our hearts for renewal seems simple. “You must Choose. Make a decision to rededicate your life to God.” Easy, right? Not necessarily. When you really think about what it means to “dedicate your life to God,” it becomes harder to take that first step. There is a cost involved and the cost is high. Jesus says choosing to give our hearts to God (he calls it becoming a disciple) will cost us everything we are and have. He says it means losing your life--dying to yourself. Dedicating our lives to God involves relinquishing things, and even if we’ve made the initial decision before, every time we renew it there will be new things in our lives to relinquish. Jesus urges us to count the cost of discipleship before we decide to follow him (Luke 14:26-33), and A.W. Tozer challenges us to do that by asking a number of sobering questions. He speaks of being filled with the Spirit, which is another aspect, or way of talking about surre

Ten Ways to Prepare your Heart for Renewal began a series of regular postings on this topic I plan to publish over the next few weeks. In a blind leap of faith, I’m going to suggest that some of the words I write will not be FROM me. They will be THROUGH me—and TO me, as well. I’m determined to be painfully honest as I share my own faltering, hesitant steps on this journey toward personal spiritual renewal. It’s so easy to become stale and stagnant. I’m a beginner, again, after all my years of walking with Jesus. It’s a new year, and I’m making a new start at personal renewal. I trust you will be able to discern the difference between my words and His as you visit this site. Expressions of my faltering walk are my own. Any words that ring with a greater Truth are from God, to all of us. So let’s travel together on this path toward a deeper relationship with Him. I’d love to have you comment on posts, adding your own insights and encouragements—your own words from the Lord—for the edif

The beginning of a new year is a natural time for thinking about renewal. We say good-bye to an old, tired year and look with hope and expectation to a new one. A clean page. A fresh chance. A time to think about how to make our future better--more productive, more significant, more successful, more joy-filled. For Christians, thoughts of renewal usually revolve around God. We belong to Him forever, but we are vacillating human beings, and our relationship with Him can easily stagnate. We need times of refreshing. We need to come again to the fountain of living water. We need to long for Him so deeply that it drives us back into His presence. Thankfully, God prompts that longing. He never forces Himself back into our lives, but the restlessness we feel without Him invariably draws us. So what to do when we feel the restlessness? When we become aware that something's not right in our spirits? God is the One who must rescue us from the doldrums of spiritual lethargy, but there are st