Preservation

In speaking about lukewarmness, as in the previous post, the whole point is taking something perishable and preserving it until the time comes when it is to be enjoyed.

This is a perfect picture of what God is trying to accomplish within us. On this earth we are eternal souls in a temporary, perishing world, fighting to remain in the faith.  His goal is that we "endure until the end," are "able to stand in His presence blameless with great joy" that we would have "faith to the preserving of the soul."  

What a wondrous thought! 

In the natural world we use the word preserves while talking about sweet fruit which is jarred, sealed, and kept until it is to be tasted and enjoyed.  While reading  Hebrews 10:39 many years ago it occurred to me that faith is the jar that holds the fruit of His labor - our redeemed souls.  


We are sealed with the Holy Spirit, we will be preserved until the day that He opens the lid and enjoys.



"For without faith it is impossible to please Him...."  Hebrews 11:6

A Different Perspective On Lukewarm

"I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth."

Rev. 3:15, 16

This verse is famous for the fear it grips in the heart of sincere believers.  Usually, the application is  regarding the temperature of water or something to drink. Some years back, I had a different thought.

Wouldn't it be more appropriate to consider the effects of lukewarmness in something perishable, like meat, for instance? To be preserved, it must be kept cold or hot.  Long term exposure at room temperature will render it spoiled. The stench of neglect will fill the room and the thought of ingesting it is unthinkable. While spitting out lukewarm water seems harsh, expelling bad meat is reflexive and completely understandable. 

Before we run to our Bibles or let condemnation settle into its established religious groove, let's consider what our souls truly need. I don't believe it's increased spiritual calisthenics, added to the pile of already burdened religious duty. Who needs more of that? How could we ever pray enough or do enough or even keep ourselves in life? Do we generate God's life within our hearts by doing "religious" things? I don't think so.  

The key is simply keeping our souls in the love of God. A love that is perfect and without selfish motives. A love that doesn't compare itself to others or measure its worth by outward activity or the things one does as "ministry."  A love that remembers Him with a heart that flexes the muscle of gratefulness,  able to remain a humble recipient of endless mercy and grace.   All the way to the end. 

Thankful Still

I cried for my mother yesterday.

What is it that brings out the longing that is so often just a quiet ache?

Sitting with my middle daughter and my sister, trying to choose the menu for the wedding my parents will miss, I felt the sad reality that they have died and will not be there.  It washed over me at the moment my brain was needed for other things.  (Like choosing food for the big party!)

Months have passed since I wrote the first lines of this potential blog. Months that have been achingly sweet.

2011 has brought me blessing. Our first grandchild, a new son-in-law, graduation of our youngest child, a blessed and hopeful future stretching out before me, filled with the promise of something I've often ached for: time.

Nothing can come close to having the choice to linger longer. I seem to revel in solitude. Delighting in stretching out moments filled with gratefulness. Our God is so good.

This short post began with the ache for my mother, but it ends with the ache satisfied by Someone so much better. An excerpt from a prayer written in the 1700's:


        My Saviour wept that all tears might be wiped  from my eyes,
          groaned that I might have endless song,
          endured all pain that I might have unfading health,
          bore a crown of thorns that I might have a crown of glory,
          bowed his head that I might uplift mine,
          experienced reproach that I might receive welcome,
          closed his eyes in death that I might gaze  on unclouded
          brightness, died that I might for ever live.  


                            Going into 2012, I am thankful still.

To the backdrop of I Love Lucy, my daughter, Hannah, labored early on Saturday morning to bring Leila into the world.  Today is Thursday, which means Leila's first week is more than halfway passed.  Wow.

While Hannah and Leila were being discharged at the hospital, the nurse, with her northern accent and way of being, touched a place inside of me that doesn't get rocked very often.  The place of vulnerable patient who has grieved her babies.  The ache of exhausted daughter, caring for parents who will never be better again.  The newborn reality of being grandma,  and finally, the realization that  I'm now the generation who could soon need a caregiver myself.  Yes, the young and the old are connected, and I am going down the line in succession of all those who came before and all of those who will come after.

When a young girl gives birth, she experiences the beginning of a different perspective of what her mother has done for her.  The picture begins to be altered as she tries to walk post-partum, learns how to nurse, wakes up in the night, and quietly soaks in the joys of mommy hood and the promise of many years of hard work ahead.

It happens again when one become a grandma.  I'm grateful that my mother came across the country to care for me while experiencing high risk pregnancies and again after giving birth.  Her presence comforted me and her way of serving benefitted me for several weeks. I  ache for her as I remember.

It is obvious to me now why older women pray more: you just come to the place of accepting your lack of control, while remembering the goodness and faithfulness of God throughout your own life, applying that reality to those you love. They must live their lives and learn their own hard lessons.  But in the closet of your heart, you are asking for grace, hoping for revelation, and believing Him to do what only He can do.

If there is anyone humble, quietly watching as people do it their own way, not consulting Him or being saved from a boatload of consequences, it is God the Father, Creator of us all.

Just waiting to be asked for wisdom.

Ready to support.

Willing to comfort.

Able to help.

I am asking You today, Lord, for all of these things.  Thank you for hearing.  I look forward to seeing how You answer.

His salvation extends to the children's children of those who are faithful to his covenant, of those who obey his commandments.  Psalm 103

A Special Day

Living  in a halfway house in the summer of '77,  I was so depressed that I didn't want to fall asleep at night because it meant that my next waking moment would be the reality of a another day looming before me. A day that I would have to sludge through, with no hope for the future. A day filled with ever present reminders of wrong choices and their seemingly unending consequences.  To stall going to sleep and to keep that reality at bay, I began reading 2 chapters of Luke each night.

One afternoon, during the mandatory monthly meeting with my halfway house counselor,  I was confronted about not fully embracing the "program." (At this point, I had already been in a psych ward, through chemical dependency treatment, and now was there at Wayside House.)

The emotional help that man had to offer was quickly proving to be just that: The Help of Man.

I began sharing with this counselor that I was reading the Bible each night and I had just gotten to the part where Jesus was being crucified.  What had been words on a page, were suddenly describing an act of love that had power to change my life.   Romans 10:9 says that if you confess with your mouth and believe in your heart that Jesus is Lord, you will be saved.  This happened to me that day. As I attempted to tell her that Jesus died on the cross, my heart broke.  I could hardly get them out! But instead of self piteous tears, I was broken because of what Jesus had done for me.

As soon as I left the counselor's office, I went upstairs to my bedroom, got on the floor, and gave my life to the Lord. Because I didn't know exactly how to pray, I played a song that seemed to be more of a prayer.  (I had purchased an album from a gal going door to door in my parents' neighborhood a few years before.  The only reason I had wanted it was because both the singer and the seller were black, something I had SO wanted to be!)  I had learned every word of this song - truly a seed planted - and now I was ready to sing it as a prayer, and with all of my heart, I did.   He washed away the stains I could not seem to even lighten. Within a week or so, I was in Midwest Challenge, a Christian program patterned after Teen Challenge. A few months after completing it, I came to Agape Force, a ministry in Texas that existed for the purpose of bringing revival to America. I am so grateful for the place of safety He gave me there. I literally swam in the presence of God for six months or more!  ♥ ♥

There was no one present to help me repeat certain words or read The Four Spiritual Laws.  I had been "breathing" prayers while in treatment, things like: I just give my life to You and I wonder if God could forgive ME? I've often thought that like the prodigal's father, who rejoiced while his son was still far off,  God saw me heading in the right direction and also rejoiced, though I was not yet home.   On the floor of a halfway house, singing a song, He showed me the way.

In the hospital, during treatment, at the halfway house, at Midwest Challenge, and in Agape Force, I found a banquet prepared for me.

Thirty four years later, my feet are still under that Table.

A few months ago on a Sunday morning during worship, I noticed one of the teenage boys looking as if he was intensely preparing for something burdensome. He was leaning against the wall, sitting, Bible opened and eyes closed. I smiled to myself a while later when I realized that he was preparing to lead the usher's prayer during the offering.

It's really like that, isn't it? Things we are given to do may be pretty small... but they aren't small to us. We get burdened and may feel under pressure as we prepare for our moment in the "spotlight," thinking that somehow it's so important. But the truly "important" moments are all of the unseen ones that we think don't matter. It's the way we live when no one is looking that reveals what is true about us.

 Living for the Audience of One is what I want to do.

                                              

I think as people we often fall short in the little areas of life because we fail to see that the things happening all around us, though often caused by the unfortunate choices of others, are actually a test.  I want to pass not only the bigs tests in my life, but the little ones, those which no one else will ever see.

"These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold--though your faith is far more precious than mere gold..." 1 Peter 1:7

Getting Off Track - A Facebook note from a while back

Yesterday, I was driving a familiar route home from Dallas. Having done this many times, I was relaxed and confident that I would have no problem finding my way. Not paying much attention, I visited with the passengers in my car. The weekend had been filled with navigational skills required to find new places, and after concentrating at various points throughout the weekend I was now relaxed on my way home, so much so, that I never even saw the sign for the exit I was supposed to take! How interesting, it was with the familiar that I had completely missed it and found myself where I hadn't intended to be.

Obviously, this is a great metaphor! When we are in crisis, or in a place where important decisions are being made, our ears and eyes strain for any sign that tells us which path to take. We pray and hope to do the right thing, alert and aware of anything that will point the way and make it clear. It is the every day, however, the comfortable, normal existence that can dull the senses and blind us to the obvious. We wake up suddenly, wondering how we got here - dead and dry, no longer longing, needing to find the place where we went straight ahead, instead of veering where the route required.

The only thing for me to do was turn around and go back to where I had gone wrong. I tried to find the short cut over to the road I had wanted, but by the time I had it figured out I was where I needed to be. Grateful to be back on the correct path, I had to once again move forward, forgive myself for the time lost, and get to where I was going, humbled to be a bit late.

When traveling long distances, one degree to the left or right won't make much of a difference at first, but in the long haul, that one degree will have you ending up thousands of miles from where you had intended to go.

"Lord, help us to stay awake and aware, listening for Your voice that says, 'This is the way, walk ye in it.' We need You to help us discern the value system of Your kingdom, not getting comfortable, complacent and miles from where You desired us to be!"

We are sojourners on this earth!

                                                        "Thou wilt make known to me the path of Life."

How Little Does It Take?

As a young Christian, my interaction with God was often quite emotional. 

My soul needed lots of healing, and I repeatedly experienced His love through my feelings.  After a while, this need for catharsis threatened to become a false standard through which I measured my relationship with Him. I wanted “heaven to fall” each time I prayed, needing continuous signs and reassurance for the littlest of things. Soon it was time to grow in faith and confidence, no matter how I felt.

As we mature in our walk with God, sometimes His voice isn’t quite as loud. It isn’t so much that He lets go, but His communication begins to soften.  He doesn’t coax, pat, or affirm every second, but begins to ask for trust and faith in spite of the dark.  Feelings and circumstances no longer define the “wellness of our soul.”  We begin to understand that it is a privilege to believe in His heart of love when life is disappointing or painful.

Some of the things I have learned as the owner of horses relates to this.

When the quality of responsiveness is developed in a horse, it takes less effort to get the desired action instead of more.  When I want my horse to do something, I have been taught to ask myself, “How little does it take?” I must resist the urge to ask with force or abrupt movements. He is consistently given the opportunity to respond to the slightest request.  If necessary, more pressure is applied until what is desired begins to happen. Though the goal is understanding and lightness, I am ready to do whatever it takes to get the message across.

What if when God seems to be silent, He is simply trying to refine communication?  What if the Father is saying, “How little does it take?”  Must He clobber us over the head to get us to check on a friend or bring a meal to a hurting soul?  Does He really need to write FEED THE POOR across the sky in flaming letters to spur us to action? 

While teaching a horse something new, the trainer must exaggerate his request.  When the animal begins to demonstrate even the slightest understanding, the human must reward.  (This usually means an abrupt removal of all pressure, along with a few seconds  of rest.)  The method I employ,  calls this rewarding the slightest try.  This is extremely important, since the horse must be affirmed as it attempts to figure out what is desired. After the gross motor skill is understood, cues are refined and the request becomes almost invisible to an onlooker.

So it is with obedience and communication with God.   Sometimes He refines and softens His way of asking and hopes to move us without the need for big movements and  strong emotions. He wants the slightest check to halt us and a nudge to get us moving, no matter our natural tendency.  

As a young Christian, I had need for Him to use exaggeration as I learned about His love, and as I began moving in the right direction, He rewarded my slightest try.  It is now my goal to walk with Him in responsiveness and sensitivity, no longer dependent on continuous emotional affirmation.  

I want to remember that He might be asking, “How little does it take?”