On Peace and Pleasure

You will make known to me the path of life.

In Your presence is fullness of joy.

In Your right hand there are pleasures forever.  

Psalm 16:11 (NAS)

Last Sunday I came home from a week-long trip to Florida and the Bahamas.  I thank God for the good things He has created for our pleasure:

white, sandy beaches, seagulls flying, dolphins playing in the waves, good food on the cruise ship, interesting people to meet. 

So many good gifts He delights to give us. 

And so sweet that He delights in our enjoyment!

He loves to watch us enjoying things. 

He begs us to throw ourselves onto His mercy and goodness,

to abandon ourselves to joy! 

He is so good. 

But the best blessings on this trip, besides the reality of His loving presence with me as I enjoyed the sand and sea, were my two girls.  I had so much fun being with them.  I am so proud of them--the way they think and act and speak.

It wasn't all pure delight. There were some eye-rolling moments. We don't always share the same idea of what constitutes pleasure.  Adri would not let me feed the seagulls so I could get their picture flying over us.  And I nixed her suggestion that we get matching tattoos to commemorate our trip. But we love each other, and it was pure fun for me to be with both my girls. 

I loved watching them enjoy the sand and sea and food and new friends, and in that way I was enjoying what God loves to watch.  He delights in our abandonment to healthy pleasures. 

I HATE how Satan has distorted those pleasures.  We gave him permission to do that.  Our great fruit-tasting experiment destroyed our ability to enjoy.  It bound us, instead, to fear and pain and despair.  But I praise God for solving that problem through Jesus' death and resurrection! 

I LOVE being able to connect with my Creator, through Jesus, and so to have those Eden-pleasures restored to me, even in this dark, sin-cursed world. 

On the plane ride home Adri became faint and needed some care.  The cabin crew were sweet and helpful, and the emergency room nurse and his fiance--Good Samaritan passengers on the flight--were as well.  But it was eye opening to watch them minister to her.  The young woman engaged to the nurse shared the anti-anxiety medication she carries with her on airplanes.  And when I told the flight attendant that prayer was my anti-anxiety medication he said,  "That works for some people," but he carries medication for himself too.

I remember my struggle with anxiety as a young woman,

being overwhelmed with a panic I could not control,

finding it impossible to resist being afraid of invisible evils that seemed to surround me. 

But over the years God has led me so deeply into relationship with Him that I no longer need medication. 

He has shown me that there is nothing to fear. 

He has proven, over and over, that my trust in His loving care of me is justified. 

He has anchored my joy in eternity.

The struggle against fear is more intense in today's world. The threats are now global, and our amazing technology makes sticking our heads in the sand impossible. 

But the cure for that fear is the same. 

Just as real and powerful as ever. 

I pray that those sweet people we met on the plane will find the deep peace that comes from knowing God--the peace that rests deeper, and lasts longer, than the peace medication provides.

He is so good!

I love being able to rest in that reality. 

I love being able to enjoy the good gifts He surrounds me with here on earth,

I love anticipating the pleasures that will be in His right hand, forevermore!

Thank You, Lord, for making known to us the path of life.

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Looking at the Invisible

"So we fix our [spiritual] eyes not on what is seen [with our physical eyes], but on what is unseen [invisible to the human eye], since what is seen [with the naked eye] is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."   2 Corinthians 4:18

"Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."   Hebrews 11:1

Nothing puts us so intimately in touch with unseen realities as the death of a loved one.  Dennis' death nearly six months ago has gently skewed my perspective toward heaven.  That's one of the many good things God has brought out of this great grief He has allowed into my life.

When our physical lives go on uninterrupted, day after day, it's easy to lose sight of what is ultimately real.  We become so focused on the present moment in our own small corner of the universe that we forget how small a sphere that blip on the radar screen really is.  It seems like the whole universe to us, but it's not.  And coming to terms with this reality is the only way to peace and joy while we're making our way through this temporary, alien world.  It's the only way to experience the life we were created to enjoy.

While Dennis was dying, my friend Sharon was facing her own mortality.  She has battled cancer and won, for the time being.  But she now lives with the side effects of her treatments and the realization that the cancer might come back.  Her perspective on ultimate reality has been an inspiration to me.

She says, If I look at my life and everything that happens with my lens focused too closely, it is easy to despair.  But when I step back, refocus, and look at it in the context of Scripture, of who I am in Christ and His promise that I will share in His inheritance and be with Him eternally, these other things become so small and temporal in comparison. 

What I mean to say is that the outcome is the same--my physical body will one day give out.  Whether that happens a year from now or 40 years from now, I am still going to a glorious eternal life!  Makes me wonder why we fight so hard to stay here (like the Israelites kept looking back to Egypt, rather than go on joyfully to the promised land).

My friend no longer lives for her life down here.  She realizes there is a better one ahead, and that reality shines out through her broken body with a clear, eternal light.

In February I wrote about our pilgrimage through the Valley of Baca.  My friend is on that pilgrimage and she has turned the Valley of Baca into a place of springs.  She is going from strength to strength, and strengthening other pilgrims on the way, because she is looking at the invisible.

If I had to choose one daily devotional to subscribe to it would be the one provided by Open Doors, the ministry organization that cares for persecuted Christians around the world.  Every day's message is a refreshing spring to my spirit, and a challenge to remember to look, every day, at the invisible.