Photo: Plum blossom
One thing have I asked of the Lord,
that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
and to inquire in his temple.
Psalm 27:4
Month: May 2012
Quit picking on Martha
Quit picking on Martha.
She changed. Give the girl some credit. Yes she was guilty of asking Jesus to nag her sister Mary to get off her butt and help her. At virtually every women’s retreat or conference we get to hear references to how Mary had chosen the better way, with the implication that practically minded people are less spiritual somehow.
I have a friend with a gift of service who becomes upset by referrals to Jesus’ apparent criticism of Martha. She says, “Well somebody’s got to get dinner on the table. It ain’t gonna get there by itself!”
It strikes me now that perhaps Jesus was not chiding Martha for fussing in the kitchen, but because she hadn’t asked him what he wanted. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate her contribution or that Jesus liked Mary’s personality more. I wonder if his “Martha, Martha, tsk tsk” remark was because Martha’s contribution at that occasion was really about her priorities and not his. Maybe he had already eaten.
I did this. I made my hubby a “special gift” dinner of barbequed ribs — mostly because I had a craving for barbequed ribs. When I called him for dinner he said, “But I’m not eating.” I was kind of mad about that, with all the extra work involved and everything. This all-day recipe involved slow roasting the ribs on a rack over a certain liquid in the turkey roaster and then concocting a “secret” sauce (which was freely floating around the internet) and then finishing them on the barbeque.
He said, “I told you yesterday that I was fasting today. Didn’t you hear me?”
When I thought about it I sort of remembered him telling me, but I guess I wasn’t really paying attention.
Many times people have gone out of the way to do hospitality/entertaining right for us, but because of allergies and calorie restrictions we can’t eat the things they slaved over. I’ll never forget our first Christmas season after we were married. This was when we realized the combined social obligations to two extended families needed review. We were foolish enough to try to attend four turkey dinners within 24 hours. By the time we waddled in to Aunt Maude’s (the fourth engagement) jellied salad was extruding from our ears. Her hair was frizzed and waving in the air from guarding over a boiling pot of pyrogies when she expressed indignation that we barely touched her masterpiece trifle, not to mention that one of us (no names) had spilled punch on her freshly stripped and re-waxed rumpus room floor.
I once spent a couple of hours of a family weekend “trapped” in the kitchen churning out squares and goodies, while everyone else played games, because I was taught that this was what was required of a good hostess (even though I couldn’t eat ANY of it and rather resented having to do it all by myself). Most of it was hardly touched because people don’t indulge in sweets like they used to. I felt unappreciated –and they said they missed me at the Trivial Pursuit table. A bowl of peanuts was really all they wanted .
So often we do things to try to honour God because someone has told us this is the proper way to do it, this is how worship is done, but we forget to listen and pay attention to what HE wants. Sometimes he doesn’t want a big worship music/dance/drama production with sets and full orchestra. If He doesn’t intervene when the lead singer gets laryngitis or the power goes out half-way through we get upset and say, “But Lord, why didn’t you answer our prayers for help? All this was to glorify you!” And he says, “Oh, really?”
Sometimes he merely wants us to sit down quietly beside him and listen –and pass the peanuts.
But here’s the thing; Martha DID learn to listen. In John 11, where we are told the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, this phrase stood out to me: “Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.”
Martha. Martha and her sister, not Mary and her sister.
And the following conversation gives a big clue about faith and the working of miracles:
“If only you had been here, Lord,” said Martha, “my brother would never have died. And I know that, even now, God will give you whatever you ask from him.”
“Your brother will rise again,” Jesus replied to her.
“I know,” said Martha, “that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”
“I myself am the resurrection and the life,” Jesus told her. “The man who believes in me will live even though he dies, and anyone who is alive and believes in me will never die at all. Can you believe that?”
“Yes, Lord,” replied Martha. “I do believe that you are Christ, the Son of God, the one who was to come into the world.”
It was Martha who had the insight that Jesus was the Christ. She listened. She learned. She changed.
People talk about Peter’s great revelation when he made a similar statement and he ended up with a huge cathedral in the middle of Rome with his name on it because of that moment.
What did Martha get? She got to see Jesus do what Jesus does, raise our dead hopes and show us what true life in him is all about.
Give the girl some credit.
Faith: it’s a good thing.
Share this:
The joy of the Lord is my strength
Photo: Lion’s bane
Share this:
The Cowboy Trail
Photo: On the Cowboy Trail in cattle country, Alberta
I grew up in cattle country. How a country western/gospel music culture ever churned out an artsy-fartsy opera singer I’ll never know, but I can still sing country if I want to. This picture reminds me of the old song we sang around the campfire.He owns the cattle on a thousand hills
The wealth in every mine,
He owns the rivers and the rocks and rills,
The sun and stars that shine,
Wonderful riches more than tongue can tell
He is my Father so they’re mine as well
He owns the cattle on a thousand hills
I know that He will care for me.
Share this:
As a mother
Photo: Precious
Mother’s Day can be horribly painful for some people.
I held more than one sobbing child in the big rocking chair during the darkest nights of their little lives. More than once I heard, “Why doesn’t my mommy love me?”
As a foster parent my own heart was torn up by the pain of little ones whose mothers chose alcohol or drugs over their kids, and with one exception all of the 24 children who arrived on our doorstep were there because their mothers’ own pain left them with nothing left to give. In the midst of drowning fear and emptiness they forgot their kids. It was hard to forgive them sometimes, but I realized that a person can’t give what they have never received, and these moms needed to be loved themselves.
God understands that too.
“Can a woman forget her nursing child,
that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb?
Even these may forget,
yet I will not forget you. (Isaiah 49:15)
None of us were parented perfectly. Even the most outstanding mother in the world has moments when her own deficits get in the way. That’s when Abba–Daddy-Father God, our Mother, can fill in. The Bible speaks of his gentle nurturing motherliness –something beyond gender.
For thus says the Lord:
“Behold, I will extend peace to her like a river,
and the glory of the nations like an overflowing stream;
and you shall nurse, you shall be carried upon her hip,
and bounced upon her knees.
As one whom his mother comforts,
so I will comfort you;
you shall be comforted in Jerusalem.
You shall see, and your heart shall rejoice;
your bones shall flourish like the grass;
and the hand of the Lord shall be known to his servants,
and he shall show his indignation against his enemies. (Isaiah 66: 12-14)
More than a foster parent he adopts us and makes us full heirs. This is why I love adoption. It is a picture of being chosen and of lives redeemed by a perfect parent –without age limit.
Sometimes he also uses someone else with skin on to be an agent of this grace.
Paul wrote: For we never came with words of flattery, as you know, nor with a pretext for greed— God is witness. Nor did we seek glory from people, whether from you or from others, though we could have made demands as apostles of Christ. But we were gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children. So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us. (1 Thessalonians 23: 5-8)
A few years ago I wrote a hymn for Mother’s Day recognizing God as a mother and thanking him for all the “mothers” –biological, fostering, adopting, step-parenting, hosting, caring and mentoring (regardless of gender) he has put in our lives who have nurtured us in some way.
As a Mother
As a mother, on whose bosom,
rests a child in total trust,
so, oh Lord, You love and comfort
‘til our earth-bound fears are hushed.
As a mother guides and teaches
little children to obey
so, oh Lord, you firmly tell us,
“Listen child to what I say.”
As a mother waits with weeping
for a child who’s gone astray,
so, oh Lord, You wait with longing
‘til we find our homeward way.
As a mother who rejoices
when her child says, “I love you,”
so, oh Lord, Your heart rejoices
when we sing, “We love You too.”
We, your children, come before You
to give honour and to praise.
Thank you for the precious “mothers”
who have shown Your loving ways.
Help us, Lord, to love and nurture
those entrusted to our care,
‘til as one united family
we will live together there.
(suggested tune setting: The Welsh folksong, “Suo-Gan” )
God is good.
Share this:
Can we talk?
Photo: under the May tree in my garden
Don’t worry over anything whatever; tell God every detail of your needs in earnest and thankful prayer, and the peace of God which transcends human understanding, will keep constant guard over your hearts and minds as they rest in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6
Share this:
Hearts open wide
Photo: bleeding hearts in my garden
Yesterday, in the wee hours, I was rushed to the hospital with a medical crisis. The hospital staff was wonderful and within minutes an I.V. dripped relief into my arm. I won’t deny that I was in a lot of pain -excruciating pain. I was moaning and writhing and praying but I wasn’t afraid. I knew what caused the pain. I had experienced this scenario before and since capable people moved quickly to help and I knew we wouldn’t be hit with a big medical bill (oh God, thank you for Canadian healthcare!) I could patiently (or semi-patiently) endure.
By evening I was home and still a little stoned on morphine, but doing quite all right. I debated about whether I really needed to swallow the pain meds I was given before I went to bed, but I decided it wouldn’t hurt to get some sleep, so I did.
When I awoke I had a horrendous headache, my hands and face and throat were swollen and I felt like I couldn’t get enough oxygen.
I was afraid.
It’s one thing to trust and patiently endure pain when you are fairly certain of a positive outcome eventually. It’s another when you have no idea what’s happening. This is not the time to introduce yourself to God or to re-new acquaintances. This is a moment when all you can do is squeeze out a “HELP!!” kind of prayer.
Obviously I’m OK now. I’m sitting here listening to Fernando Ortega, drinking Earl Grey tea, and posting a photo I took this afternoon of some of some bleeding heart flowers by my window. Their hearts open wide to sing his praise. God is good.
And if I had been sitting in heaven drinking tea with Jesus instead, he would still be good. My heart opens wide to sing his praise. Allelu.
Let us who are afraid find refuge in Christ and redemption assured in His name.
By day and by night we delight in His love and forever His words will remain.
Sing allelu, we rejoice in Your love Most High…
Fernando Ortega sings “Allelu” from The Odes Project -from the oldest collection of hymns of the early church set to new music:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hxV-SANxlu0
Share this:
Radiant Hope
Photos: Sunflowers on Eager Hill
May the God of hope fill you with joy and peace in your faith, that by the power of the Holy Spirit, your whole life and outlook may be radiant with hope. Romans 15:13
Share this:
Red Button, Yellow Button
What do you see?
My grandma’s kitchen table overflowed with happy chaos –as did her closets, drawers, shelves, baskets and any other available surface. She was a quilter, crafter, seamstress and creator of quasi-useful doo-dads extraordinaire. She should have had a blog.
Some might have thought she was a hoarder, but she actually made use of her stashes of potential and gave most of the finished projects away. A quilt stretched out on a frame usually took up most of the living room and when I came home from school I automatically picked up a threaded needle and joined the two or three older friends (all called Mrs. So-and-so, even to each other) while Grandma fixed me a snack.
One of the other jobs she gave me was sorting the bottles of buttons she snipped off thrift store clothes too worn to wear, but still good for quilt patches. I learned I could look at the buttons spread out before me and concentrate on seeing a certain colour. If I thought, “Red!” the red buttons popped out and I put them into egg carton sections. If I thought “Yellow!” the red buttons would fade and the yellow ones would stand out.
I can still do it. Is it just me?
As I was thinking about thinking (any thing to avoid housework) I remembered this button experience. We tend to see what we are thinking about.
I am blessed with a beautiful granddaughter who thinks differently than most kids. It makes for an awkward social life but gives her plenty of time to read, observe strange human behaviour and contemplate complexities. At the age of about five or six years old she was obsessed with learning Bible stories. She had read her children’s Bible through several times and knew the history of many obscure characters I didn’t recognize. Her favourites were the prophets –especially the female prophets.
“They could hear God talking to them! Isn’t that amazing, Grammie? My favourite is Miriam, because she was so smart and she got to save her little brother Moses and be a dancer and singer/songwriter and a prophetess too!”
One day while we were making cookies she asked me, “Do you think it would have been easier to be a disciple of John the Baptist or a disciple of Jesus?”
I hadn’t really thought about it before so I asked her, “What do you think, honey?” – because obviously she had been thinking about it.
She said, “Well, I think John the Baptist because he worked in the same area most of the time, and people came out to see him, so if you were his disciple you could go home for supper and have your own room and everything, but if you were Jesus’ disciple you would have to walk and walk and follow him around because he never even had his own house, so you wouldn’t either and they never had cars or buses or anything for transportation so your feet would get really sore, except that they did have boats on the lake of Galilee so sometimes they could travel by boat…”
It doesn’t take much to get her on a roll.
“So there was this time when the disciples were in a boat at night? They saw Jesus walking on the water –well, it turned out to be Jesus, but they thought at first he was a ghost because you don’t really expect to see somebody walking on the water in the dark at night and maybe one of them saw a ghost before or something – and anyway Peter said, “Jesus, if that’s you I will walk on water too,” so he got out of the boat and he did! He did walk on water, Grammie! Isn’t that amazing? (She used that expression a lot) and then he was walking, walking, walking and oh no! He started to go down and he looked at his feet and they were under the water and he looked at the waves and they got bigger and his knees were under the water and he saw more water coming and he started going down and down and down and do you know what I think that means, Grammie?”
“What, honey?” (Why slow her down now?)
“I think that means that when we look at our sin all we see is our sin and we get too afraid to look at Jesus. The waves are like our bad things and the problem is when we look at our bad things we just do another bad thing because that’s all we know how to do. We need to stop thinking about being bad! We need to look at Jesus walking on the water because he’s the only one who knows how to do it.”
Wow.
Preach it, little sister.
She smashed the peanut butter cookie dough with her fist and chattered on about foods and baking raisin cakes in the Bible, but my mind stayed with her observations on focus.
We see what we focus on. When we pray, “Oh Lord, make me ever mindful of what a worm I am and how horrible my sins are,” we are like Peter looking at the waves and his inability to conquer them –and our only solution is to try to use the same tactics that have failed us so many times before.
It’s like thinking about red buttons and seeing red buttons.
Some people say, “Have faith.” But faith in what? Happy endings? Our ability to overcome all by ourselves? That this time will be different? We can have all the faith in the world that this time we will walk on water, but when we start to sink it’s panic time -again. We think, “Don’t think about eating, or spending, or coveting… maybe if I try harder, keep the junk food out of the house, cut up the credit cards, stay off Pinterest, put a blocker on those TV channels, avoid the Facebook gossipy rants about famous people, bite my tongue, pour the booze down the toilet, memorize scripture verses….ooh, chocolate…that always makes me feel better…oh no…I’m horrible…I can’t even resist a measly brownie…I’m a sinner and I will always be a sinner…I’m so disgusting…glug…glug….glu…
Our faith cannot be in our ability to try harder. It needs to be in Jesus, who knows how to do this water-walking stuff. He doesn’t walk for us, but he does show us how to walk with him . Our eyes must be on Him, not us! It’s a matter of seeing what you think about.
Jesus? If that’s you we will walk on water too!
Let us strip off everything that hinders us, as well as the sin which dogs our feet, and let us run the race that we have to run with patience, our eyes fixed on Jesus the source and the goal of our faith. Hebrews 12:1-2
Now to him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before his glory without fault and with unspeakable joy, to the only God, our saviour, be glory and majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before time was, now, and in all ages to come, amen. Jude 1:24
Charis: Subject to Change 