“Endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory.”
– William Barclay
It’s snowing again. Sometimes it feels like winter will never end.
And sometimes I step out into the street, feel the silent light falling and say, “Thank you, Lord. It’s beautiful.”
I’m home now, resting after major surgery in another city. I can’t bend over to pick up anything I’ve dropped or lift anything heavier than a jug of milk for the next few weeks. Sitting for more than the length of a quick meal is still uncomfortable, but couch time with a pile of good books and a remote in hand is actually a guilty pleasure – with a built-in excuse.
It’s raining. The streets are glare ice and our home and garden are still under several feet of saturated snow after the heaviest snowfall in decades. I don’t plan to go anywhere and thus far the house remains mostly dry inside.The storm of the last week is over. My husband is back at work and there is time to think.
Before we left, on the one day the roads were in good condition before the second storm hit, someone asked the question, “In your reading of Jesus’ words lately what stands out the most?”
I recently watched the film “The Gospel of John” which uses the scripture as the entire dialogue of the screenplay. What I heard Jesus say over and over again was this: I’m telling you the truth. In the olde King James version I grew up with he said, “Verily, verily.” In the original language of the Bible he said “Amen, Amen…” When amen was said at the end of a statement it meant “I agree.” When Amen prefaced a statement it meant, “I’m about to say something important.” When a word was repeated it meant “I am about to say something truly important. I’m serious here, folks.”
In the gospel of John alone Jesus says amen amen before a statement at least twenty times. I asked myself why.
This week I discovered what it is like not to be taken seriously about an issue that was important to me. Two days after being released from the hospital after major abdominal surgery I suddenly doubled over in severe pain. I’ve had this kind of pain before. It felt like I was passing a kidney stone. I was staying in a small town about an hour out of the city resting up for the next part of the trip home. I slowly crawled up the stairs on hands and knees and asked to be driven to the hospital emergency room since our host could get me there faster than an ambulance.
Kidney stones hurt. When your belly has just been cut open, things moved and removed, and then sewn back up, kidney stones really, really hurt. The power words I have been saving up for moments of high drama seemed inadequate. And “Verily, verily, I hurteth,” was not going to cut it.
I told my driver to move her car out of the ambulance bay to a parking spot because I thought I would be okay walking to the triage desk myself.
Wrong. I clung to a wall trying not to pass out from pain. The lady behind the desk ignored me. Another patient in the waiting room ran and brought a wheelchair, but then I just sat there in the middle of the hallway unable to propel myself. Eventually my driver came back and pushed me up to the glass door in front of the triage desk. After waiting a period of time, which probably felt longer than it actually was, a person took my information.
“On a scale of one to ten with ten being the worst pain you…
“Ten!!!” I gasped.
“Take this paper to the desk [way over there] with your health insurance card, fill out the admissions form, and have a seat in the waiting room. We’ll call you,” she said.
I had just come from one of the finest surgical centers in the country. I had a team of nurses and technicians who cared for me around the clock, helped me breathe, helped me sit up, put on my slippers and helped me go to the bathroom. They even flushed for me. Now I sat in a hard plastic chair, squirming, shaking and sweating, wondering if lying on the floor would be a better option. They didn’t call me for nearly two hours. (Thank God prayer was more efficient and the pain level had lowered by then.)
They didn’t believe me.
When drug addicts become known at the larger city hospitals they start hitting the smaller outlying health services seeking relief from withdrawal. The people at this hospital didn’t know me. Perhaps they thought I was drug-seeking. They had seen it before. Perhaps they didn’t believe me because they didn’t know me or my character.
It wasn’t until late in the evening, when the pain subsided and after my family helped me back into bed at home, that the emergency room doctor called and said the x-rays proved I was telling the truth. That’s when he asked if I needed pain medication.
Now my news was not good news. Unlike Jesus I was not there for anyone’s benefit but my own. But in that experience I felt what it was like not to be believed despite the best evidence I could produce.
Today I watched the film again. In this part (midway through this scene) Jesus tells them who he is. He reminds them of the witness of John the Baptist.
They do not believe him.
They shrug as if saying, “Yeah. We’ve seen people with selfish motives before. We’ve heard lies before. We’ve been deceived and disappointed before.”
Jesus says over and over “I am telling you the truth!” Then he says something which cuts to the heart of their disbelief.
“I’m telling you the truth! I can only do what my Father tells me. You don’t know me because you don’t know my Father!”
These were the religious experts, the ones who told everyone else who God was and what he wanted. What a politically incorrect, offensive statement in that place, at the heart of religious government!
I have a drawer full of greeting cards ready to send in polite acknowledgement of special occasions. People also send them to me. Some are carefully chosen after reading dozens in the store display, but sometimes they just come from a box bought at the dollar store because you need to stick a card (that a kid will never read) on a birthday gift. Sometimes I read the gospels and skim over the verily, verily passages like I am reading a stack of birthday or get well cards full of sentiments written by card designers who don’t have a clue who I am. Thank you. That’s nice, Jesus.
But do I really hear him? He looks me in the face and asserts with a strong tone:
I am telling you the truth,” Jesus replied. “Before Abraham was born, ‘I Am’.”
I am telling you the truth: those who hear my words and believe in him who sent me have eternal life. They will not be judged, but have already passed from death to life.
I am telling you the truth: I am the gate for the sheep. All others who came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Those who come in by me will be saved; they will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only in order to steal, kill, and destroy. I have come in order that you might have life—life in all its fullness.
I am telling you the truth: those who believe in me will do what I do—yes, they will do even greater things, because I am going to the Father.
I am telling you the truth: the Father will give you whatever you ask of him in my name. Until now you have not asked for anything in my name; ask and you will receive, so that your happiness may be complete.
Do we truly believe Jesus is who he says he is? Do we treat his statements like nice sayings in a greeting card? Do we truly believe he is telling the truth?
“To be commanded to love God at all, let alone in the wilderness, is like being commanded to be well when we are sick, to sing for joy when we are dying of thirst, to run when our legs are broken. But this is the first and great commandment nonetheless. Even in the wilderness – especially in the wilderness – you shall love him.”
– Frederick Buechner
Sometimes we travel to the soundtrack of saints’ and angels’ song. Sometimes the sun shines warm upon our heads and the road is paved with the invitation to acceleration.
Then suddenly the clouds hide the sun, the cold north wind drowns out the music. The road is no longer dry and pothole-less. It has not been cleared of ice and snow drifts. In fact, not only is the road not paved with golden potential fulfilled, it’s not even paved.
Who knew that the wilderness is where the Lover of our souls takes us when he asks us to come away with him?
Who knew this is the place where he tells us who we are and shows us a part of his character we never understood before?
Who knew this is where faith is built, where we learn to lean on him?
Who knew this valley is the fulfillment that puts systems and material wealth and the approval of people who don’t think the way God does into perspective?
Who knew the wilderness is preparation for prosperity so that it will not distract and overwhelm?
Who knew the Valley of Achor (trouble) is where the door of hope awaits?
Who knew? The Lover of our soul knew. He planned it.
He invites us to come away to his upside-down kingdom where the first shall be last and the last shall be first, where his thoughts become our thoughts, and where, with his covenantal laser of sweet pain, he writes his law of love on our trembling heart.
Come away.
“Why am I the one who has to think of everything?” a young mother asked. “My husband’s idea of preparing for a trip is carrying the suitcases out to the car.”
I smiled. I remembered this. One day my father-in-law announced he was taking us to the fair. We would be gone all day. His intent was for us to stay late and watch the fireworks. After telling us to hurry up he put on his baseball cap, grabbed his keys and went out to the car.
Eventually he came back in to see what was taking so long. I happened to be feeding and dressing three little kids (two still in diapers), gathering supplies for the day and putting them in backpacks and diaper bags. My mind was whirling as I made preparations that necessitated asking myself the question, “What could go wrong?” so I would know what to bring.
Dad was going out of his way to do something kind for us. He was a natural optimist and couldn’t understand why I was fretting. This was supposed to be fun.
There is something about being responsible for others that turns many of us into worriers. Perhaps it is because we feel like we have to think of everything or we could find ourselves caught in a blizzard in a swim suit and flip flops and fresh out of diaper rash cream for the baby. Maybe that’s how I got in the habit of starting my day with thinking about what could go horribly wrong. Thinking about what could go amazingly right is postponed for a later hour after lists are made and items checked off. Sometimes I never get around to that thought until I tumble, exhausted, into bed at night.
I’m trying to change.
Now, before I get out of bed, I intentionally direct my thoughts to thanking God for answered prayer and the potential of the next day. I intend to not allow negativity to squash my joy before the day even begins. Then I lay my plans before him and let him know they are subject to change as he leads.
It’s often a mental wrestling match on the level of those grunting men of massive girth who throw chairs and put headlocks on referees. Change, real change, deep down heart change, doesn’t come easily for someone like me.
Early yesterday morning, I drove home from a doctor’s appointment in another city. It’s an eleven hour trip there and back. Instead of “trying to think of everything” in preparation for surgery next week I decided to focus on the goodness of God and how he has brought me safe thus far. I put on some good music and sang along.
One of the things I am thankful for is that my commute is through some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. The glowing sun rose over my shoulder to the east, lit a winter field at rest to the north and touched the mountain peaks to the west with gentle pink light. The air was frigid, but inside my little subcompact cocoon the heater hummed away and kept me warm. I put iPod music on shuffle and watched the day come to life.
Then a song from a new album I bought before I left home began to play. “You’re going to be okay,” the singer assured me. I heard God’s voice in the music.
I have no idea how this is going to go. But I am going to be okay. The Lover of my soul thinks of everything.
At each and every sunrise you will hear my voice
As I prepare my sacrifice of prayer to you.
Every morning I lay out the pieces of my life on the altar
And wait for your fire to fall upon my heart.
(Psalm 5:3 TPT)
I wouldn’t have done it that way. It looked like a disaster. Facts and figures and previous experience all added up to a negative number.
Then I heard the voice of the Holy Spirit speaking in the night. “This one is like a Chinese finger puzzle. The more you fight and try to free yourself from circumstances, the tighter they will get.”
I trusted him. He took me through a tough, tough time and answered in a miraculous way mere logic could never duplicate.
Resting in God when everything around me says, “you need to do something!!” brings back memories of growing up in a house with parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles who seldom agreed and who all gave me different instructions. No matter what I did someone would be mad. Which voice did I choose to listen to?
Now here I am again. So many angry voices. So many urgent opinions. So much distracting pain. So many dire consequences marching across the screen of unsanctified imagination.
Oh God, what should I do? What should I do?
“Remember the source of your strength. Remember my promise to never leave you. Be thankful. Rest.”
The Eternal is the source of my strength and the shield that guards me.
When I learn to rest and truly trust Him,
He sends His help. This is why my heart is singing!
I open my mouth to praise Him, and thankfulness rises as song.
(Psalm 28:7 The Voice)
You will keep the peace,
a perfect peace,
for all who trust in You,
for those who dedicate their hearts and minds to You.
(Isaiah 26:3 The Voice)
My grandson was showing me photos he had done for school when I saw the light change outside on the snowy lawn in my peripheral vision. I checked the sky.
“Grab your camera!” I said. “And your boots and jacket. Let’s go.”
A strong wind resisted our efforts to open the front door.
“Where is the closest open field?” I asked him when he got in the car.
He took me there. This is the result.
Chinook arch at sunset in Alberta.
I grew up in Calgary. I knew what an arch of clouds in the sky coming from the mountains in the west meant. It meant a break in the weather. It meant sudden unseasonably warm days right in the middle of winter.
To some weather-sensitive people chinook winds bring changes in barometric pressure that provoke migraines and achy knees, to some they create a mess of melting show and piles of slush on the road, but as a child I knew they brought streams in the gutter to sail our clothespin boats, the ability to run around outside without a hat or scarf or sometimes even a jacket and a sense of profound unexpected positive change.
I was able to visit Calgary this week. The purpose of the trip was not a thrilling one; I had to see a team of medical specialists at the hospital who debated the best next course of action in treating a resistant condition. That part wasn’t fun, although I was amazed and impressed by the efficiency of the system. My doctor referred me on Thursday, I was given an appointment on Friday and by Tuesday I was shlepping around from the exam room to the labs to the consultation room. I am so appreciative of good medical treatment. I thought of my grandmother and how much things have changed since she died at 42 because the family didn’t have money for an operation, and of my son who is still waiting for OR time for his surgery.
But the other part of the story is that the tests were not pleasant, every treatment offered comes with risks and side-effects and the prospect of more pain and recovery time on the couch, and there is no clear advantage of one over the other so the decision is up to me.
When my husband and I walked out to the parking lot I realized I didn’t need my hat, or mittens or my jacket. It was one of those southern Alberta miracle days after a chinook blew in and raised the temperature to sunny spring day levels. It was a break from the expectations of January weather in Canada.
I think the Lord breaks up the heaviness of praying for situations that weigh on our hearts with moments of unexpected fulfillment of promises ahead of time. It’s like the finger of God poking through. Moments of the manifestation of the Kingdom of heaven on earth. Yes. It exists. Here. Now. In this moment. But someday this warm sunlight will not be an occasional thing. It will be the norm.
We have hope, therefore we can sing, “To God be the glory for the things he has done.”
The devil is a terrorist.
My friend, Jeff, pointed out yesterday that while the motivating force behind heaven’s actions is love, the motivating force behind the powers of evil is fear.
The world is saturated in fear. We are easily manipulated by fear. All stress is fear based and asks “What if [insert nightmare here]?”
Graham Cooke points out that fear is a low-budget item for the enemy of our souls. But God’s love? Love is costly. And He was willing to pay the price.
The devil is nasty. Terror is custom-made; it hits where you are most vulnerable. Many of our friends, some of our family have experienced these kind of sneak attacks lately. I have too.
Jeff pointed out that those who have turned to Christ learn to thrive instead by breathing the joyful, peaceful atmosphere of heaven like breathing through an oxygen mask. If you panic, if you pull your mask off you will immediately breathe in the poisonous atmosphere of fear that saturates the airwaves.
When we keep our focus on Christ we build a relationship with him. When we express thanksgiving for what he has already done, praise him for his character and attributes we are taking time to breathe the cleansing pneuma of the Holy Spirit.
When we cry. “Abba! Father!” and rest our weary heads on the chest of the One who loves us most the atmosphere changes. It expands from the kind offered via oxygen mask that falls down in emergencies to fill entire bio-domes where the Kingdom of heaven is being established in a community and where Christ’s love is at the center of all our actions.
Love casts out fear.
At the moment I am conscious of the need to firmly hold that mask of thanksgiving and praise and trust close to my face and to reject clouds of toxic fear swirling in the atmosphere. The joy of the Lord is my strength. I am loved by the Creator of the universe. I’m no longer a slave to fear. I am a child of God.
No matter which way the storm winds blow I am still a much loved child of God. If you want to attack me, you’re going to have an encounter with Him.
John, the disciple who knew he was loved, wrote:
Delight yourselves in God, yes, find your joy in him at all times. Have a reputation for gentleness, and never forget the nearness of your Lord.
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.
Save
“Every life has dark tracks and long stretches of somber tint, and no representation is true to fact which dips its pencil only in light, and flings no shadows on the canvas.”
– Alexander MacLaren
Winter days are short in the north, but when the sun reflects off the snow they can be gloriously bright. The contrast between extreme brightness and dark shadow is sometimes difficult to capture with a camera. Photographers have to figure out how to adjust for areas of an image appearing either blown-out white or indiscernible black.
As I drove in the countryside my eyes could not adjust quickly enough to the deep blue shadow across the road in a forested section after open white fields. For a moment I couldn’t see. I felt disoriented. Nothing had changed. The sky, the earth, the road were still all there and as solid and real as they had been seconds before driving into the shadow. It takes a while to be able to discern shapes and terrain in a canyon cutting between tall fir trees.
Sometimes when we enter dark times in our life we are tempted to question what we knew only a short time before. Does God still love me if I can’t feel him or see him? Did I mess up so badly this time he has given up on me? There are lots of voices offering condemnation in this place. Where do they come from?
It takes a while to be able to discern truth in dark places, but it is still truth. When we refuse to panic and instead choose to slow down by resting in trust, gradually we can again see and hear that the love of God has been there all the time.
So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose?
If God didn’t hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn’t gladly and freely do for us?
And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God’s chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger?
The One who died for us—who was raised to life for us!—is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ’s love for us? There is no way!
Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture: They kill us in cold blood because they hate you. We’re sitting ducks; they pick us off one by one.
None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us.
I’m absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.
(Romans 8:31-39 MSG)
For a few hours, before the snow cover blanketed them, ice crystals adorned the periwinkle along the edge of the garden path. They caught my eye. I stopped to admire the sparkling jewels, all the more precious for their temporary existence. I needed to get on with my day so I walked on as the snow fell. By the time I passed that way again they had vanished.
I read a scripture verse today about gems. As precious and beautiful as real gems are, King Solomon wrote about something of even greater value, and that is wisdom.
I used to read a chapter of the book of Proverbs every day. 31 chapters made it convenient to find my place. It’s been a while and since I have been praying for wisdom a lot lately (because I really need some) I thought I should go back and review. Yesterday I read the eighth chapter for the eighth day of the month – the chapter about Wisdom calling out, begging to be noticed. I was reminded that Wisdom existed before time. Wisdom is part of the very creation of the earth. Wisdom is foundational and unlike my ice diamonds, not a temporary, relative thing. It’s been there all the time.
The more I experience of the grace and goodness of God the more I begin to hate evil both in myself and in the world around me. Evil is anything that is out of line with God’s perfect nature and design.
I write a lot about grace and the freedom it brings, but grace does not over-ride wisdom nor, as some people fear, give license to sin. Wisdom is woven into grace and, like love and mercy and kindness, is part of the character of God. Sin is ultimately disrespect for God. Disrespect for the Creator is the opposite of the goal of grace.
Grace does not ignore evil or dismiss the consequences of evil as being no big deal. Quite the opposite. Grace points to the sinless nature of the One who loves us perfectly and empowers us to come into alignment with his heart and avoid the consequences of idiotic choices that can start a chain of events that roll out like a Rube Goldberg device. God’s heart makes evil look unbearably sick in comparison.
God has provided a way for us to be forgiven, to be drawn back into a right relationship with him, to know how much he loves us. Wisdom rejoices in the nobility of this truth and shows us that knowing God means hating anything that puts up road blocks for others or keeps us from being aware of his desire for a closer relationship. Whether it is arrogant pride that doesn’t value others highly enough, evil conduct that soothes our pain with false comfort, or perverse speech that spouts lies about who God is and who he created us to be, the closer we get to him the uglier sin is revealed to be in comparison.
Wisdom allows us to see the gap between the way things work in a fallen world and the way things work in a restored world where God’s will is done on earth as it is in heaven. Wisdom doesn’t make us choose between truth and real love, or justice and mercy. Wisdom comes from God’s perspective. Wisdom shows us how to listen and how to walk in his ways.
Isn’t Lady Wisdom calling?
Listen; don’t you hear the voice of understanding crying out?
She’s taken her stand at the highest place in the city,
at the crossroads where everyone can see her.
There, and at the gates, at the entrance to the city,
right in front of the city doors she cries out:
Lady Wisdom: O people! I am calling to you;
I have a message for all humanity.
You gullible people, acquire insight.
You naive ones, cultivate a heart that truly understands.
Listen, for I am about to tell you of unparalleled excellence and beauty;
what I am about to say will set things right.
I will only speak the truth;
I despise evil, so it will not pass through my lips.
Everything I say promotes justice;
not one word is crooked, and nothing is distorted.
Each and every word is straight talk to perceptive people,
upright and honest to knowledge-seekers.
Accept my correction as being more valuable than your prized possession,
authentic knowledge more valuable than pure gold.
You see, no gem is more precious than Lady Wisdom—
your most extravagant desire doesn’t come close to her.
Lady Wisdom: I make my home with prudence;
I obtain knowledge and sound judgment.
If you respect the Eternal, you will grow to despise evil.
I despise wretched, vile talk
and ways of pride and arrogance.
Good counsel is mine, and also true wisdom.
I am understanding, and strength belongs to me.
It’s because of me that kings wield power
and authorities decree what is right.
It’s because of me that leaders and their agents govern
and all judge according to what is right.
I love those who love me;
those who search hard for me will find me.
Riches and honor are the benefit of following me;
so are lasting wealth and justice.
My reward is better than gold, even the purest gold;
and my profit is greater than the highest quality silver.
I follow the way of right living.
Follow me along the path to find justice;
I’m ready to meet those who love me, bestow true riches upon them,
and fill up their lives until their treasuries overflow.
The Eternal created me; it happened when His work was beginning,
one of His first acts long ago.
Before time He established me,
before the earth saw its first sunrise.
I was born before the deep existed,
before any springs poured out their water,
Before the mountains were placed on their foundations,
before the hills rolled across the land—
yes, before all this, I was brought forth.
When the earth was yet unformed and the fields were not yet nestled beneath the wind—
even before the first dust of the earth—
When He created the heavens, I was there.
When He drew a circle in the deep, dividing the oceans and the sky, I was there.
I was there when He established the sky.
I was there when the springs in the deep were fortified;
I witnessed Him lay down the shore as a boundary
and put limits on the water
And determine the foundations of the earth.
All this time I was close beside Him, a master craftsman.
Every day I was His delightful companion,
celebrating every minute in His presence,
Elated by the world He was making and all its fine creatures;
I was especially pleased with humanity.
So now listen to me, my children:
those who live by my ways will find true happiness.
Pay attention to my guidance, dare to be wise,
and don’t disregard my teachings.
The one who listens to me,
who carefully seeks me in everyday things
and delays action until my way is apparent, that one will find true happiness.
For when he recognizes and follows me, he finds a peaceful and satisfying life
and receives favor from the Eternal.
But heed my warning: the one who goes against me will only hurt himself,
for all who despise me are playing with fire and courting death.
(Proverbs 8 The Voice)
Charis: Subject to Change 