Something About The Joy

We were on our way to the Christmas morning worship service and I was not in the mood to worship. I could trace the problem to its source. The grumpiness had started on December 22nd, when I first heard a Christmas song on the radio that had the Baby Jesus saying “Ho, ho, ho.” Bah, humbug. The racoon who ate the pumpkin pie off my back deck during the Christmas Eve service didn’t help any. Nor did the discovery, later in the evening, that my jar of poultry seasoning was empty. It could have been on my fruitless pilgrimage around town that night, looking for an open grocery store, that I lost the right front hubcap off my new volkswagon. So, driving to church on Christmas morning, listening to my husband’s idle musings about which of the three curbs I had bumped in the last four days might have dealt the death knell to my hubcap, I was in full grinch form. “Merry Christmas,” I said (pointedly) to him in the middle of his one-sided discussion of the missing hubcap. Bei

When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born. “In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written: “‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for out of you will come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.'" Matthew 2:3-6 A bit of shepherd trivia. Shepherds, in Jesus' day, were considered one of the lowest classes of people. They were so suspect as liars and thieves that their testimonies were not accepted in a court of law. Yet they were the ones to whom the angels first announced the birth of Jesus, and were probably the first to begin spreading the word to others. Shepherding was the chief industry of the little town of Bethlehem. The animals were raised to be sold in Jerusalem, to pilgrims who needed them for sacrifices in their religious ceremonies. Lambs were killed to atone for the s

This discussion on hearing from God has raised a raft of questions for me. I’m shy about sharing some of them, because I’m not sure they even make sense. Both the questions and the answers are still incubating. But Jenifer’s comment on my November 18th post, interestingly enough, speaks to the first of my questions, recorded in my journal on November 15th. Jenifer says: “God is always speaking to us. Sometimes it is in the big things and sometimes it is a whisper in the wind. The more aware we are of Christ in our daily activities, the more we will notice when He speaks to us.” My November 15th journal entry asks this question: Does God speak specifically to me every day, or are there only some times when I need to hear specific words? Are there some days when we just walk together in companionable silence? Jenifer’s statement is obviously true, and I want to especially note her reminder that “the more aware we are of Christ in our daily activities, the more we will notice w

The LORD confides in those who fear him; he makes his covenant known to them. Psalm 25:14 God confides in us. That's amazing! One more blog post from my personal journal, to show how God has spoken specifically to me in the last week: I think I’m getting more of a sense of God’s urgings, in even the littlest things. I may be wrong about these urges, but I don’t think it will hurt anything if I step out on faith, as if they are from God. This morning I picked up my Bible from the nightstand and Prison to Praise was under it. I felt I needed to pick it up too, as if God might want to say something to me from it. I always think it’s best to read my Bible first, before any other book in my quiet time, but this time as I asked God where I should read I felt Him say to read the book first. I turned to my bookmark and started reading [the author's] chapter on the power of praise—really the heart of his message. It was a powerful read, and again I sensed the urging of t

So I’m having fun with the current topic of hearing from God. I think I'll post some examples of the experiences I'm having. Here's one from a week or so ago: I am looking on Craig’s List for furniture for our front room. I find an ad that looks promising, contact the person who is selling, and make arrangements to go see it tonight. She is leaving town in the morning for ten days and has to get rid of her things before she moves permanently at the end of the month. On the way to her house, I begin to wonder if God might have a greater purpose in the encounter. I ask God to guide and use the situation for His purposes. We meet, and I look at the furniture. It’s not what we’re looking for, but my spiritual eyes have been moved to a bigger goal than finding a sofa. I ask her if her move is a happy one. She says yes, that she travels a lot with her work and she’s hoping to settle in this new city. I tell her I will pray for her on her trip, that God is going with

Yesterday, after posting the Praise Power message, I opened the novel I’m reading (Yes, I’m one of those confused, neurotic people who have at least five books on the go at once.), and found the following passage. It seemed to fit so well with yesterday’s post, I thought I’d quote it for you. While We’re Far Apart , by Lynn Austin , is set in WWII, so it made good reading over the Remembrance Day holiday. I recommend it for the picture it gives of life in the U.S. during WWII, for both Jews and Gentiles, and also for its honest examination of the age-old question, “Why Did God Let This Happen?” From Chapter 23, pp204-206: “Do you think it does any good to pray, Mr. Mendel?” The truth was that he was still too angry with Hashem to pray. But just as his newspaper photos had fueled Esther’s fear, he saw that his lack of faith would have an influence on her, too. It would be very wrong to lead these children into the dark, hopeless world where he lived. Should he tell them not

I've been re-reading an old book called Prison to Praise , by Chaplain Merlin Carothers. He is reminding me of a great truth I need to hear repeated again and again. He says: Jesus didn't promise to change the circumstances around us, but He did promise great peace and pure joy to those who would learn to believe that God actually controls all things. The very act of praise releases the power of God into a set of circumstances and enables God to change them if this is His design. Very often it is our attitudes that hinder the solution of a problem. God is sovereign and could certainly cut across our wrong thought patterns and attitudes. But His perfect plan is to bring each of us into fellowship and communion with Him, and so He allows circumstances and incidents which will bring our wrong attitudes to our attention. I have come to believe that the prayer of praise is the highest form of communion with God, and one that always releases a great deal of power into our lives.

I’m in an introspective mood. Maybe it’s the influence of what I’m reading. John Eldredge’s book, Walking With God , journals his experience of listening to God and walking with Him on a daily basis for one year. I can only take so much of this kind of navel gazing before I get bored, or uneasy. If I were John Eldredge I’d be wondering why that’s true. He’d probably say I’m afraid to look under the hood (see page 60, “Being Willing to Have a Look”), so, before I give up on this approach, I probably need to look at a few things. The thing I notice right now is that I am constantly trying to impress myself. Or impress others with myself. Wanting them to know how witty I am, or how inteligent, or good, or clever, or right, or even how beautiful. If there’s a group picture, I look for myself first. I want to know how good I look. I’m usually disappointed. I keep expecting that someone as special as I am should look more beautiful than I do. There’s something wrong with living this

Last week my Pastor scolded me. I had sent him one of those funny e-mail jokes. Where on earth I came up with the brilliant idea that the other deacons in my church and the pastors would enjoy an internet joke that involved Jesus, I’ll never know. My pastor gets so much electronic mail he hates messages anyway. I knew that. It was just one of those sloppy, brain-dead moments when you snatch a glance at something someone’s spammed you with and immediately, without sober second thought, spam it forward, to a group list, no less, of the most spiritually sensitive people in your church. In all fairness, my pastor didn’t know he’d scolded me. I had to tell him about it later, after the scolding had done its redemptive readjustment of my internet priorities. He was surprised, and pleased, to find out God had used him to discipline me, but he had no idea his question, “Why on earth do you read this stuff?!” would sound like a reprimand. He was probably just curious, but it sounded lik

I don't want the kind of peace that comes from feeling like I have everything under control. I want the peace that comes from knowing God is sovereign, even though I'm not in control. Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. Philippians 4:6-8 (The Message)

I struggle, today, with the disappointment of unanswered prayer. Why does it seem, so often, as if my prayers make no difference? Does prayer really change things, as the plaque on the wall in my bedroom states? I know the answer to that question with my mind. God often says “wait” when we ask for something, and His timing is perfect. And when He says “no,” it's always so He can give us something better instead. But in the moment it's heart-breaking to feel the door shut in my face. So what do I do in the midst of my disappointment? Do I give up on God and decide my walk with Him is all a waste of time? I can't do that. There's too much richness in that walk—too much truth and grace. I can't deny His faithfulness in the past. Do I wallow in self-pity and self-doubt, wondering if I've done something that keeps God from answering my prayers? It's not a bad idea to ask God to examine my attitude and my motivations, but if nothing comes to mind, I can

Then Jesus came to them and said, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Matthew 28:18-20 "Our Lord makes a disciple His own possession, He becomes responsible for him. 'Ye shall be witnesses unto Me.' The spirit that comes in is not that of doing anything for Jesus, but of being a perfect delight to Him. The secret of the missionary is--I am His, and He is carrying out His enterprises through me. Be entirely His." Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, September 4 reading. God calls for complete surrender of our lives to Him. Some things we lay on the altar He will burn up, because they aren't good for us and never will be. Other things He will purify, and sanctify, and give back

in my thinking. . About things—not what I can get, but how simply I can live. About leisure—not escape from something, but entering into something. About food—not what I have to give up, but what is good for my health. About tithe—not what I lose, but what God's Kingdom gains. About vacation—not doing whatever I want, but changing my pace. About time—not immediate and urgent, but restful and trusting. About God—not far away, but up close; not condemning, but loving; not emotionally distant, but relational. About salvation—not my doing, but His. About being loved—not getting hugs, but giving them. About church—not what I get out of it, but what I put into it. About life—not down here and short, but up there and eternal.

The view from below: Mark 15:1-15 (around 30 AD) Early the next morning the chief priests, the nation's leaders, and the teachers of the Law of Moses met together with the whole Jewish council. They tied up Jesus and led him off to Pilate. He asked Jesus, "Are you the king of the Jews?" "Those are your words," Jesus answered. The chief priests brought many charges against Jesus. Then Pilate questioned him again, "Don't you have anything to say? Don't you hear what crimes they say you have done?" But Jesus did not answer, and Pilate was amazed. During Passover, Pilate always freed one prisoner chosen by the people. And at that time there was a prisoner named Barabbas. He and some others had been arrested for murder during a riot. The crowd now came and asked Pilate to set a prisoner free, just as he usually did. Pilate asked them, "Do you want me to free the king of the Jews?" Pilate knew that the chief priests had brought Jesus to h

Belonging to Jesus doesn't mean nothing terrible will ever happen to you. It just means terrible things are temporary. That's enough. Revelation 21:4

All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment. Isaiah 64:6 I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. Romans 7:18 You were washed. . .you were sanctified. . .you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and in the Spirit of our God. I Corinthians 6:11 Perfect because of My splendor which I bestowed on you, declares the Lord God. Ezekiel 16:14 I'm so proud of this photo, even if it was an accident. I just wanted a picture of a sea gull, and I grabbed it, not knowing if the bird was even in my sights at the time. I love what was caught by my camera lens in that fraction of a second. Yes, it is just a seagull. That unimpressive, annoying bird who struts awkwardly up and down the beach, looking at you out of the corner of his eye with that half defiant, half apologetic expression, as if he knows you don't like him and are about to shoo him away. The one who scuttles up to steal

Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun. Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him. . . (Psalm 37:3-7) Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. (1 Timothy 6:17) I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. He will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destry; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. (Jesus, in John 10:9-10) I hate when people tell me what's wrong with my life but don't tell me how to fix it. Yesterday I talked about what was wrong.

Hear the word of the Lord, O house of Jacob, all you clans of the house of Israel. This is what the Lord says: “What fault did your fathers find in me, that they strayed so far from me? They followed worthless idols and became worthless themselves. They did not ask, 'Where is the Lord, who brought us up out of Egypt and led us through the barren wilderness. . .' The prophets prophesied by Baal, following worthless idols.” (Jeremiah 2:4-6, 8) Lately I've been wondering if Jeremiah's prophecy against the children of Israel might also be for me—for us as Christians in North America especially. I don't want to think so. How can it be? We love Jesus; We cry out to Him every day; We want Him to be our only God. But so did the Israelites. God said, “I remember the devotion of your youth, how as a bride you loved me and followed me through the desert.” (Jeremiah 2:2) This describes me. If this prophecy is still in the Bible, and the Bible describes the human con

We can never overestimate how much God loves us, but we can, and often do, misunderstand how His love operates in our lives. My grandaughter is nearly three and she runs all the time. Consequently, she falls lots. Every day she gets a new bruise or cut on her shins. And when it happens, you'd think the world was ending. She screams and holds the affected limb in both arms protectively. No adult is allowed to get near the injury and, to listen to her howl, you'd think there would never be a cure for what ails her. She absolutely refuses to let anyone wash away the dirt, because that will make it hurt worse, and it's all about the pain, after all. We smile, but we're often like that in our own lives. God, in his love, lets us romp around, knowing full well we're going to get some scrapes and bruises as a result of our wholehearted enthusiasm about whatever we're doing. He loves to see us run. When we fall, He wants to pick us up and treat the injury, but

We can never overestimate how much God loves us. His love is boundless. We can do nothing to make His love for us bigger or smaller. We can receive His love or reject it; we can give Him praise for it or take it for granted; we can use or abuse it. Through everything the love stays the same. He loves us no less or no more when we do all those things. We are free to walk away from God's love, but when we turn back, it's always there, just behind us, waiting for the turnaround. Amazing. Incomprehensible. Paul writes, “...And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge —that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” (Ephesians 3:17-19, emphasis mine). There's a kind of “knowing” that leaves us awash with the love of God. That knowing goes beyond mind and words. It's a know

I had a strange experience the other day. We were sitting in a meeting, quietly waiting on God in prayer. At first, as I was listening for God's voice, I heard nothing. Then one word began impressing itself on me, the word "Father." I had been thinking recently of my human father, who was killed when I was a child, but this "Father" seemed to refer to God instead. As the repetition of the word became more insistent, I saw a figure that was God, standing at a distance. He began moving closer to me and as He came, I felt our relationship changing, becoming more intimate. He became for me more familiar as He drew nearer, and more vulnerable. That's the strange thought. That God would be vulnerable. Is He? I think so. Love makes a person vulnerable because love involves risk. Love is dangerous to the lover. At least the kind of love God has for us—free and unconditional. He takes a chance that we will not respond to His love. He risks being hurt, d

I had a strange experience the other day. We were sitting in a meeting, quietly waiting on God in prayer. At first, as I was listening for God's voice, I heard nothing. Then one word began impressing itself on me, the word "Father." I had been thinking recently of my human father, who was killed when I was a child, but this "Father" seemed to refer to God instead. As the repetition of the word became more insistent, I saw a figure that was God, standing at a distance. He began moving closer to me and as He came, I felt our relationship changing, becoming more intimate. He became for me more familiar as He drew nearer, and more vulnerable. That's the strange thought. That God would be vulnerable. Is He? I think so. Love makes a person vulnerable because love involves risk. Love is dangerous to the lover. At least the kind of love God has for us—free and unconditional. He takes a chance that we will not respond to His love. He risks being hurt, d

Jesus love me, this I know. For the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong. They are weak but He is strong. Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus love me. The Bible tells me so. Jesus loves me when I'm good. When I do the things I should. Jesus loves me when I'm bad. Though it makes Him very sad. Jesus loves me, He who died, Heaven's gates to open wide. He will wash away my sin. Let His little child come in. Yes! Jesus loves me. Yes! Jesus loves me. Yes! Jesus loves me. The Bible tells me so. Jesus Love Me

Today, it seemed appropriate to post an excerpt from my novel, "Something About The Joy." Zinovy is reading from the little red book his colleagues have been studying in the evenings as they rest from their travels. The book has become a dangerous distraction, slowing their progress toward their destination. Zinovy decides to see what all the fuss is about: Zinovy didn't know where his reading left off and the vision began. He saw the man hanging on a rough wooden cross, the man who had been called God's 'Passover Lamb' at the beginning of the book. The 'Lamb' was hanging by his wrists. He was fastened to the cross by large metal spikes that had been driven through the arms just at the base of the hands, where they would hook on the bones, preventing the flesh from ripping further and the body from falling.A small wooden platform about sixty inches above the base of the upright beam supported the feet, which were crossed at the ankle and secured with o

I had plans for this day. Yesterday I'd looked through the newspaper flyers and found a sale on a little children's picnic table I'd been wanting to get for my grandchildren. At a very good price. "Sale starts Friday," the flyer said. Good Friday. This was a store famous for running out of sale items ten minutes after the store opened on sale day, so I made my plans: wake up early and head for the store before someone else gets my picnic table. I woke up this morning, happy about my day. Several items I needed were on sale, and I was going to get some good deals. I had a bite to eat and sat down for a sweet quiet time with the Lord. Reading in John 17:19-20, I was touched by his prayers for us: "I am not praying for the world, but for those you have given me, for they are yours. All I have is yours, and all you have is mine." Then, in the garden, his prayers for Himself: "Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will

I've been enjoying some light, kinda fun bedtime reading that's also challenging and encouraging. It's the book, The Deliverer , by Linda Rios Brook . The book claims (all right, pretends) to be the diary of a demon who's been assigned to observe Moses in the wilderness and report back to Satan, so Satan can find out something about what God might be up to with the Israelites. The demon has just watched the terrible anger of God spill out over the Israelite camp, killing thousands of people, and now he's watching Moses deal with the aftermath of their great sin of worshipping the golden calf. Moses has roundly scolded everyone over the incident, and they're trying to work out how to bury their dead, but now Aaron and Hur have come to Moses anxious that he do something. They are afraid the low morale of the people is leaving them vulnerable to attack by their enemies. They plead with Moses to plead with God for his forgiveness and deliverance in this situatio

I know I've blogged about this topic before, but it keeps coming up in my life. A recurring theme, it seems. Today, my daughter and I were talking about how we hear from God. In our post-modern age, even in terms of our faith, we lean more and more toward listening to God in a mystical sense. We tune our ears to what the Bible calls God's still, small voice, rather than simply paying attention to what He says directly to our eyes in Scripture. That may be okay. What God wants to say to us is certainly not limited to the written Word. It is still true that the written Word is the only reliable Word of God. Still, small voices can come from other sources, and what we hear from them must be tested against the Truth of Scripture. But, having said that, God does speak to us from inside our minds and hearts. So why don't I hear from Him that way more often? One reason may be that my life is so full of intruding distractions that He can't get a word in edgewise. I

I've been feeling spiritually "off" lately. Lost the spark. In the doldrums. Stuck inside my own skin and not liking the company in there. So last night I finally sighed, closed the Scrabble game I was playing on FB (after playing a Bingo worth 74 points, ahem), and opened my Bible. Randomly. (Nothing is random.) To Hosea. That ugly/beautiful story of God's unconditional, redeeming love. At the end of the book are scribbled sermon notes from a message Barb Mutch gave at our women's retreat last year: "Daily returning. Not a big deal but the biggest deal in the world. Allow God to change us. A lifetime of turning. Daily disciplined work of spirituality. Connecting ourselves to God every day. Show up, each day, for God. Re-turn over and over." I have re-turned, again. I plan to re-turn tomorrow too. I am amazed at how easy it is, how well it works, to simply hold my cold, blackened wick up to the fire for even a minute. Hosea says, Return, O Israel, to th

I woke up this morning wondering what would happen if God managed to goad me into doing something before I had a chance to put up all the security checks and safety nets around it. He'd have to act pretty darn fast.

"A Thin Place" was an entry in an essay-writing contest I discovered yesterday. We were to write about a situation in our lives where the veil between heaven and earth was so thin that we seemed able to touch heaven in almost a tangible way. My grandmother's death was an incident like that. Those incidents are more common than we realize. My mother experienced one when my father was killed at his workplace when I was a child. They brought her to the hospital and into the room where my father's body lay. She bent over to cry, but heaven spoke into her tear-filled heart: "Why are you standing here crying? The angels are singing." She straightened up and turned to repeat the message to the doctor she supposed was still in the room. The doctor had left, but when she turned, the room was full of a light brighter than anything she had ever seen. That place was so thin that the glory of heaven shone through, erasing the tears for the moment, even though the

I hold her hand. It’s my turn. We do it in shifts. We know she is going soon. “Walter came to me last night,” she said last week. My father, her first child and her only son, is already there, on the other side of the thinness, waiting. I have grown used to living without him. The grief has subsided into a gentle loneliness. But I still miss him, especially when the veil seems so paper-thin. Subdued noises filter through the doorway from the living room. From the room where the living wait. My grandmother is not aware. Or is she? Do we know what people hear when they’re hovering between these two worlds? Perhaps she hears more than I do. Perhaps she hears things on both sides of the thinness. I hear a sob. It’s my aunt Mary Ann. This is hardest on her, because she believes it is the end. I know it’s not. So does my grandmother. She settled her future years ago and now approaches it with anticipation. The real living will begin for her when she is gone from this plac

“Only one life, ‘twill soon be past. Only what’s done for Christ will last.” I grew up hearing this truism. Eventually it became a trite statement. People rolled their eyes when it was quoted. Too bad how ideas that are good and true, and important to remember, become relegated to the Sally Ann box in our minds, just because we hear them often. It’s probably because I’m getting older, but lately I find myself dragging things out of the Sally Ann box and putting them back into my life. As I look back at the old year, and ahead to the new one, I wonder how many things I have done, or will do, are things that will last. Jesus tells us we should lay up treasures in heaven, where moths don’t eat and rust doesn’t corrode. I am shocked when I think how many things I concern myself with every day will be eaten or corroded by this time next year. What can I do this year that will last? The only eternally significant things we deal with in this life are not things. They are people. That