(Last February, I had the privilege of writing a series of 30 devotionals based on sacrifice for my church's financial campaign. I will share them occasionally when I don't have time to write something fresh.)
Sacrifice may mean giving up sleep or rest to accomplish Kingdom work.
And going a little farther, he fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. And he said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” And he came and found them sleeping, and he said to Peter, “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” And again he went away and prayed, saying the same words. And again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy, and they did not know what to answer him (Mark 14:35-40).
Have you ever tried to pray late into the night? It is not easy for us, with our weak human bodies, to sacrifice sleep. Most of us probably feel a real sense of compassion for the disciples in this story. They did not fully comprehend why Jesus was praying and their bodies were, meanwhile, crying out for rest. Yet, Jesus had asked them to stay awake with Him, and Peter, in particular, was called to “watch and pray” so that he would not “enter into temptation.” Despite Peter's willingness to pray, he continued to give into the weakness of his flesh. How like Peter we are!
On February 26, 1968 during the Vietnam war, a grandmother (in law) of a soldier named Jim was awakened in the night and called by the Holy Spirit to pray. Unable to kneel because of arthritis, she prostrated herself on the floor and spent the entire night reading her Bible and crying out to the Lord for the safety of her granddaughter's husband. Towards dawn, a passage in Matthew came to her mind and she claimed the promise therein and felt a peace that God would answer her prayers to spare Jim's life. On the other side of the world, Jim had come to a point of despair that had led him to ask God to end his life. The cruelties and horrors of war had taken their toll in the years he had been there and he was ready to escape. Resigned to the seeming certainty that his death was imminent, he was not surprised when he heard a missile headed directly toward him. But, God intervened. The fuse malfunctioned and Jim's life was spared. After the close call, he pulled out his Bible and began reading in Matthew. When he came to Matthew 18:19-20, he felt an overwhelming sense of peace and believed that he would live through his ordeal. He later said, “I somehow knew things would be alright.” Years later, when visiting his grandmother, she relayed to him the story of the night she had sacrificed sleep in order to pray for him. There in her Bible, right next to Matthew 18:19-20, were the words “Jim, February 26, 1968.”
What may have happened if this grandmother had listened to her body instead of the Holy Spirit and allowed herself to continue sleeping? What may have happened if Peter had prayed for God's strength that night? What may have happened if Jesus had allowed himself more rest instead of communion with God? If Jesus, in His perfect state, was compelled to stay up all night to pray, how much more seriously should we take the call to prayer? There is some kingdom work that is so imminent it requires our immediate intercession. It is easy to make the excuse that our bodies need sleep in order to function well, but we must be willing to sacrifice even our sleep at times to pray for God's will to be accomplished. Are you willing?
Friday, May 6, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
But For the Grace of God. . .
"But for the grace of God, there go I." I think most of us have an easy time saying that of the habitual liar, the occasional drunkard, the one who swears...those with the "easier" sins...the ones that God has no trouble forgiving. But what about the tough ones...the really tough ones? What about the prostitute? The abortionist? The serial killer? I think we turn our faces and put up a question mark. The statement becomes one made in disbelief: "But for the grace of God, there go I?" Really, God? I could be a prostitute? I could be an abortionist? I could be a serial killer?
I have what some would call a morbid taste in reading. I enjoy reading...no, that is not the right word...I am compelled to read, on occasion, true crime stories. Understand, it's not that I enjoy reading descriptions of heinous crimes. Nor is it that reading others' horrendous crimes makes me feel somehow superior. In fact, it does the opposite. It reminds me that "But for the grace of God, there go I." And here is why: What is most striking about all these reprehensible stories is the utter normality of the people, at least at some point in their lives. The serial killer used to be just an ordinary little boy and page by page, we see small stumblings and points where the normal path took a turn and became a little more twisted until the path was so dark and confused that the depth of depravity almost makes sense. How could one not lose oneself in the sin-sickness? Choices, small choices at times, slowly move the normal boy towards a very un-normal adulthood. It is there that I find the "But for the grace of God." It is there that I find, shockingly, myself. But for the grace of God, I could have been a prostitute. But for the grace of God, I could have become an abortionist. But for the grace of God, I could have become a serial killer. But for the grace of God, THERE GO I. Praise God for His grace!
And so, I am compelled to read on. To know why and how. Because knowing the "whys and hows" can save us from ourselves, and send us running toward that grace of God before we continue on, progressively losing ourselves in our sin, a path toward ultimate destruction.
I have what some would call a morbid taste in reading. I enjoy reading...no, that is not the right word...I am compelled to read, on occasion, true crime stories. Understand, it's not that I enjoy reading descriptions of heinous crimes. Nor is it that reading others' horrendous crimes makes me feel somehow superior. In fact, it does the opposite. It reminds me that "But for the grace of God, there go I." And here is why: What is most striking about all these reprehensible stories is the utter normality of the people, at least at some point in their lives. The serial killer used to be just an ordinary little boy and page by page, we see small stumblings and points where the normal path took a turn and became a little more twisted until the path was so dark and confused that the depth of depravity almost makes sense. How could one not lose oneself in the sin-sickness? Choices, small choices at times, slowly move the normal boy towards a very un-normal adulthood. It is there that I find the "But for the grace of God." It is there that I find, shockingly, myself. But for the grace of God, I could have been a prostitute. But for the grace of God, I could have become an abortionist. But for the grace of God, I could have become a serial killer. But for the grace of God, THERE GO I. Praise God for His grace!
And so, I am compelled to read on. To know why and how. Because knowing the "whys and hows" can save us from ourselves, and send us running toward that grace of God before we continue on, progressively losing ourselves in our sin, a path toward ultimate destruction.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Confessions of a Freezer Hoarder
It's safe to say that people like me should not own freezers that require periodic defrosting. It's not that I forget. On the contrary, I remember every time I open that freezer and I think to myself, "I really should defrost this sometime." But "sometime" is elusive. I've never come across some time for "sometime." So, as usual, sometime came to me as it always has in the history of my owning this needy freezer. The breaker flipped and here I am with the task of finding various ways to cook deer meat and use 50 pounds of nuts and seeds. And of course, there is the cleaning out of the five-year-old corn and mixed vegetables that I needed to stock up on...which are now solidified at the bottom of the freezer in one convenient package of ice, tapioca flour, meat guck, and some other substances of unknown origin.
For a brief deluded moment, I thought I might take a picture of the spectacle, but decided that I'd rather go ahead and write the thousand words so as to paint the picture to my liking and save myself a little dignity. Yet, my compulsion to honestly convey reality is seeming to be the undoing of that dignity I'd so love to preserve. A picture might have been a kinder messenger after all!
But it's not just the ghastly state of my frozen food artifacts that I fear would quickly sell out my dignity if memorialized in a photograph. It's the items themselves contained in my freezer. Much more than frozen food artifacts, there are some frozen artifacts of the bizarre kind. Dare I share? Let's just say, if it nourishes a baby so well for nine months, wouldn't it work wonders on a newly planted baby tree? It's the ultimate in recycling. And to my defense, my midwife recommended saving it. Too bad we never remembered the forlorn frozen something when we actually planted trees. Seven years in the freezer. Poor placenta.
But the freezer is now clean again. Ready for another seven or so years of accumulating ice and oddities. And with another baby on the way, who knows...
For a brief deluded moment, I thought I might take a picture of the spectacle, but decided that I'd rather go ahead and write the thousand words so as to paint the picture to my liking and save myself a little dignity. Yet, my compulsion to honestly convey reality is seeming to be the undoing of that dignity I'd so love to preserve. A picture might have been a kinder messenger after all!
But it's not just the ghastly state of my frozen food artifacts that I fear would quickly sell out my dignity if memorialized in a photograph. It's the items themselves contained in my freezer. Much more than frozen food artifacts, there are some frozen artifacts of the bizarre kind. Dare I share? Let's just say, if it nourishes a baby so well for nine months, wouldn't it work wonders on a newly planted baby tree? It's the ultimate in recycling. And to my defense, my midwife recommended saving it. Too bad we never remembered the forlorn frozen something when we actually planted trees. Seven years in the freezer. Poor placenta.
But the freezer is now clean again. Ready for another seven or so years of accumulating ice and oddities. And with another baby on the way, who knows...
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Artists are Funny Specimens of Humanity and Children Need to Not Slam Doors
We artists are funny specimens of humanity. We are "irony." In all our (I am being generous here with the use of "our," as I probably don't fit this stereotype) strivings to be unique, we become typical, usual in our uniqueness, common in our uncommonness.
[I interrupt myself a moment to interject a real "ponderance" that parents have undoubtedly pondered since time's beginning...or rather since the beginning of doors. Why can children not seem to close them quietly? Why must they be slammed, no matter the amount of pleading and shushing to shut them properly? This slice of reality brought to you in part by my door-slamming children.]
But back to artists and conformity masquerading as non-conformity. I looked at a picture of a group of artists and was struck by the oddly-red hair, the various Flat Caps (or Scally Caps or Salmon Hats or Smack Hats or whichever other name you should choose of the approximately 30 options for this type of cap), the poodle with similarly frizzy-fur-haired owner, and realized something. I didn't need to be told what profession these colorful (sometimes literally) aberrations belonged to. They were artists, naturally. Perhaps, then, an artist would do well to achieve uniqueness-success by being distinctly and decidedly normal...if the end-goal is simply the high rank of uniqueness, that is.
For me, the end goal is not uniqueness. Maybe I am unique and maybe I am yawningly mass-produced humanity. All I know is that I do what I do because I am who I am in Christ. If I'm a little odd or off, that is just the God-created me. If I'm not...well, that is just another part of me...the comfortingly normal part.
And that's all the musings and puzzlings I have about we artists...at this moment in time, while I await another slamming door, alerting me to hungry children ready for their dinner.
[I interrupt myself a moment to interject a real "ponderance" that parents have undoubtedly pondered since time's beginning...or rather since the beginning of doors. Why can children not seem to close them quietly? Why must they be slammed, no matter the amount of pleading and shushing to shut them properly? This slice of reality brought to you in part by my door-slamming children.]
But back to artists and conformity masquerading as non-conformity. I looked at a picture of a group of artists and was struck by the oddly-red hair, the various Flat Caps (or Scally Caps or Salmon Hats or Smack Hats or whichever other name you should choose of the approximately 30 options for this type of cap), the poodle with similarly frizzy-fur-haired owner, and realized something. I didn't need to be told what profession these colorful (sometimes literally) aberrations belonged to. They were artists, naturally. Perhaps, then, an artist would do well to achieve uniqueness-success by being distinctly and decidedly normal...if the end-goal is simply the high rank of uniqueness, that is.
For me, the end goal is not uniqueness. Maybe I am unique and maybe I am yawningly mass-produced humanity. All I know is that I do what I do because I am who I am in Christ. If I'm a little odd or off, that is just the God-created me. If I'm not...well, that is just another part of me...the comfortingly normal part.
And that's all the musings and puzzlings I have about we artists...at this moment in time, while I await another slamming door, alerting me to hungry children ready for their dinner.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Cease from Strife
Proverbs 20:3 "It is an honor for a man to cease from strife: but every fool will be meddling."
The Strong's Concordance defines the word "strife" as it's used in this verse several ways: "Chiding," "contention", and "pleading." But the most interesting definition, to me, is "contest." The word "meddling," likewise, is defined as "obstinate." Often, when those closest to us, such as our spouses, make instigative remarks, the first thing we want to do is fight back. We see the impending argument as a contest that we are determined to win and we quickly become obstinate in our position. We may feel that we have a right to respond, especially when we perceive the remark as completely untrue. It's so easy to retaliate when someone hurts us or makes us angry, isn't it? How often do we respond in a godly manner and instead choose to turn the other cheek or bridle our tongues?
When we stand before the Lord in Heaven, He will not judge us on the actions of others, but He will judge us on our own responses. Do we "cease from strife" or are we "meddling"? Do we keep quiet and let the argument go or do we dig in our heels and try to prove ourselves right? God doesn't care who's right! He will not ask us who or what caused us to say harsh words. He will ask us why we responded in like manner. Take a moment to consider. Are you and honorable person, or a fool?
The Strong's Concordance defines the word "strife" as it's used in this verse several ways: "Chiding," "contention", and "pleading." But the most interesting definition, to me, is "contest." The word "meddling," likewise, is defined as "obstinate." Often, when those closest to us, such as our spouses, make instigative remarks, the first thing we want to do is fight back. We see the impending argument as a contest that we are determined to win and we quickly become obstinate in our position. We may feel that we have a right to respond, especially when we perceive the remark as completely untrue. It's so easy to retaliate when someone hurts us or makes us angry, isn't it? How often do we respond in a godly manner and instead choose to turn the other cheek or bridle our tongues?
When we stand before the Lord in Heaven, He will not judge us on the actions of others, but He will judge us on our own responses. Do we "cease from strife" or are we "meddling"? Do we keep quiet and let the argument go or do we dig in our heels and try to prove ourselves right? God doesn't care who's right! He will not ask us who or what caused us to say harsh words. He will ask us why we responded in like manner. Take a moment to consider. Are you and honorable person, or a fool?
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Christ Is Risen!
Three words. The number of completion. Christ is Risen! The thought so overwhelmed me that I needed to share it. I needed to tell someone! I told the people in the trailer park. I told the man in the car with his windows down. I told all of God's creation! I rolled my windows down, turned up my stereo, and "told" whoever happened to be within range of my car, my mobile church-of-sorts. And it felt strangely thrilling to be an anonymous messenger of the Truth on this day of victory. "Come awake, come awake!" Do you know what this day is about, children playing in the dirt? Do you know what this day is about, man with your arm out the window? Do you know what this day is about, birds, trees, rocks? Yes, rocks, you know. You will cry it out if I don't! (Luke 19:40)
Let no one caught in sin remain
Inside the lie of inward shame
But fix our eyes upon the cross
And run to Him who showed great love
And bled for us
Freely You've bled for us
Christ is risen from the dead
Trampling over death by death
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave
Christ is risen from the dead
We are one with Him again
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave
Beneath the weight of all our sin
You bowed to none but heaven's will
No scheme of hell, no scoffer's crown
No burden great can hold You down
In strength You reign
Forever let Your church proclaim
O death, where is your sting?
O hell, where is your victory?
O church, come stand in the light
The glory of God has defeated the night
O death, where is your sting?
O hell, where is your victory?
O church, come stand in the light
Our God is not dead
He's alive! He's alive!
Does your heart leap at these thoughts, like it's going to burst out of you? Does the thought of what Christ did for you thrill you? He conquered death with death! The beautiful eternal irony. We live because He died. He sees us as perfect because He saw His Son as sinful. He loved us. We hated him. We die in order to live...die to self to live for Him. The irony of the cross.
Do you know the beautiful irony?
Let no one caught in sin remain
Inside the lie of inward shame
But fix our eyes upon the cross
And run to Him who showed great love
And bled for us
Freely You've bled for us
Christ is risen from the dead
Trampling over death by death
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave
Christ is risen from the dead
We are one with Him again
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave
Beneath the weight of all our sin
You bowed to none but heaven's will
No scheme of hell, no scoffer's crown
No burden great can hold You down
In strength You reign
Forever let Your church proclaim
O death, where is your sting?
O hell, where is your victory?
O church, come stand in the light
The glory of God has defeated the night
O death, where is your sting?
O hell, where is your victory?
O church, come stand in the light
Our God is not dead
He's alive! He's alive!
Does your heart leap at these thoughts, like it's going to burst out of you? Does the thought of what Christ did for you thrill you? He conquered death with death! The beautiful eternal irony. We live because He died. He sees us as perfect because He saw His Son as sinful. He loved us. We hated him. We die in order to live...die to self to live for Him. The irony of the cross.
Do you know the beautiful irony?
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Konur's Testimony
Today we have a guest writer! :) My son, Konur, dictated this testimony to me at age 6 and our pastor read it at his baptism. I know I'm partial, but I think it's pretty moving.
When I was 5 years old, I became a Christian. I thought that everything I was doing was wicked. I heard about Jesus at church and I thought I needed to be a Christian but I didn't become a Christian right after church. I wanted to talk to my mom first. Then after a while, I thought it was time. So, that night after everything was over and my mom had tucked me in for bed, I thought, It would be nicer to be a Christian than to have to die in hell and die in pain. So then I thought, So I should be a Christian. So then I got out of bed and knelt down on the floor and prayed, “Dear Lord, I would like to be a Christian because I do not want to die in all kinds of horrible pain wishing that I had prayed to go to heaven. So, please help me to do better in what I do and to follow Your Word. Please take away my sins.” And then I got up from praying and got in bed and before I went to sleep I thought about how wonderful heaven might be if someday I died. And then I thought some more about how wonderful heaven would be and about one day seeing Jesus. I thought about what would be in heaven. Then I fell asleep dreaming more about heaven and how heaven would look someday when I died and I dreamed about one day seeing Jesus.
I slept until 7:00 and I felt better than I had ever felt. I usually had to stretch, but that day I didn't have to stretch. I felt so much better to know that I just became a Christian. The rest of the day was the best day I've had in my life. I think being a Christian changed my life so much that I am very glad I prayed that night to Jesus. One of the changes is being nicer to my sister. I think I have been really nice to my sister these days and I really think I have been getting closer to Jesus each day because I prayed. And I think that I should give more stuff to poor people because they don't have much stuff and we do. Every day since the day I became a Christian turns out very well and I think it's all because I became a Christian and I love the Lord so much. I want to thank the Lord for hearing my prayer and for letting me be a Christian.
When I was 5 years old, I became a Christian. I thought that everything I was doing was wicked. I heard about Jesus at church and I thought I needed to be a Christian but I didn't become a Christian right after church. I wanted to talk to my mom first. Then after a while, I thought it was time. So, that night after everything was over and my mom had tucked me in for bed, I thought, It would be nicer to be a Christian than to have to die in hell and die in pain. So then I thought, So I should be a Christian. So then I got out of bed and knelt down on the floor and prayed, “Dear Lord, I would like to be a Christian because I do not want to die in all kinds of horrible pain wishing that I had prayed to go to heaven. So, please help me to do better in what I do and to follow Your Word. Please take away my sins.” And then I got up from praying and got in bed and before I went to sleep I thought about how wonderful heaven might be if someday I died. And then I thought some more about how wonderful heaven would be and about one day seeing Jesus. I thought about what would be in heaven. Then I fell asleep dreaming more about heaven and how heaven would look someday when I died and I dreamed about one day seeing Jesus.
I slept until 7:00 and I felt better than I had ever felt. I usually had to stretch, but that day I didn't have to stretch. I felt so much better to know that I just became a Christian. The rest of the day was the best day I've had in my life. I think being a Christian changed my life so much that I am very glad I prayed that night to Jesus. One of the changes is being nicer to my sister. I think I have been really nice to my sister these days and I really think I have been getting closer to Jesus each day because I prayed. And I think that I should give more stuff to poor people because they don't have much stuff and we do. Every day since the day I became a Christian turns out very well and I think it's all because I became a Christian and I love the Lord so much. I want to thank the Lord for hearing my prayer and for letting me be a Christian.
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