Watch

God’s first language is not English, nor is it Greek or Aramaic or even Hebrew. His first language is Himself and glory is however He chooses to express Himself.

He speaks in the vast expanse of space, he speaks in the tiniest particles of earth. He speaks in light and sound. He speaks in pictures. He speaks through flesh and blood. He once spoke to me through a prairie chicken.

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I was driving home on a dull November day when I felt the urge to pull off  at a provincial campground. I felt like the Lord was saying, “Stop at Lundbreck Falls. There’s something I want to show you.” I hadn’t stopped there in years, and I totally doubted the urge but I thought I might get a good photo there. I could use a good stretch. So I stopped. The light was all wrong and the waterfall was in deep shadow. I walked around and wondered what that was about, because I was trying to listen to the Lord.

Truth is I barely shut up enough to listen. You see a few days earlier someone who told me they were a prophet said I was going into a “winter season.” I’d been in a winter season for years, thank you very much. I was just waking up the reality of the love of God in my life, starting to feel close, and was learning Holy Spirit wants to communicate with all his children.  I complained loud and long that I didn’t want to go into another winter season.

So there I was on a dark November day walking in an empty campground, nearly back at the car, complaining about the approach of winter, when a grouse suddenly appeared on the road ahead of me. There were no other birds about. He marched right up to me, turned his back and splayed his tail feathers in a grand TA DAA movement. Then he puffed his throat and did an entire spring mating display just for me. I wanted to grab my camera from the car, but I was afraid he would leave, so I watched until he marched toward the shrubbery.  Only then did I only grab it.  I was flattered and thanked him, but explained he wasn’t really my type, then drove home, pondering.

Later while praying in the woods I came around the corner to see a crocus blooming on the trail. A spring flower. Not unheard of, but highly unusual. I asked, “Are you saying something, Lord?”

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“Spring. Between you and me, it’s spring.” I love his sense of humour and that he can speak through a prairie chicken and a fuzzy purple flower. And that whole year it was spring between me and Jesus (and I learned to test the words of prophets). It was like falling in love for the first time. He was showing off with his kindness.

He also speaks in English, Greek, Aramaic, Hebrew, Chinese and Ktunaxa. The Bible is indeed “a more sure word” even if it doesn’t contain every word. If you are not familiar with it, you won’t recognize his voice in other ways, and he doesn’t contradict the written word. It’s a familiar voice. He also often speaks (or sings) to me through music of all genres.

As I have been thinking about the days leading up to the story told in While He Lay Dying, I know He gave us some very clear heads-ups that he was in this event. The most obvious to me came through music. My friend, Valerie, introduced me to Taizé music only a few days before we left for our granddaughter’s birthday in Lethbridge Alberta. I had checked out a few of these songs on YouTube. I like songs with a ground bass that allow for improvisation over top (like Pachelbel’s Canon) so these simple tunes interested me. Later in the week one of them started playing in my head repeatedly. That’s not unusual for me. I have music in my head all the time. But this one wouldn’t stop. It was driving me nuts! It played in my sleep. It played over top of other music when I tried to listen to something else. On the drive to Alberta it was so loud and insistent in my head I had a hard time carrying on a conversation with my husband. It played all night before Bruce went to the hospital, and all through the next day until we received word on Sunday morning that he had crashed and was on life support. Then it stopped.

I cried, “Oh God! What are we supposed to do?”

That’s when a friend phoned and said, “You know, I think we are supposed to stay with him around the clock. I think we need to watch and pray.” Their pastor told my daughter, “We are going to stay and pray with him 24/7.”

Then I understood the reason for the song. A watch can be a military defense, or a close observation. This time it was both. The Lord had been telling me all week we needed to stand and contend for his life through prayer, but also to watch. Watch what God could do with the most horrendous circumstances. Watch. Because this was going to be good.

And it was. Very, very good. My daughter and son-in-love tell the story in While He Lay Dying.

Faith Looks Up

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“The most powerful mentors in my life all had one thing in common, and it has released a hunger in my own heart. They gazed at the Lord with a child-like simplicity and wonder. They had an innocence about them — a simple purity, humility, grace, and a deep abiding love for Jesus that was naked to the eye, a visible passion that ruled each day. I cried out for that…”

– Graham Cooke

Timing

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Waiting

Timing is so important! If you are going to be successful in dance, you must be able to respond to rhythm and timing. It’s the same in the Spirit. People who don’t understand God’s timing can become spiritually spastic, trying to make the right things happen at the wrong time. They don’t get His rhythm – and everyone can tell they are out of step. They birth things prematurely, threatening the very lives of their God-given dreams.
– T. D. Jakes

Perplexed

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I’ve been going through a bit of a molt lately. I think we all do that once in a while. It involves the shedding of  parts of ourselves which were once effective, and perhaps even attractive, if I may say so myself, but now this time of examining which ideas to keep and which to shed has left me in a somewhat frazzled state. I feel a lot like this goose I met in the park the other day. The other geese seemed to have it all together, but this one seemed just a little, well, perplexed…

Yeah. Perplexed. Not where I thought I would be as the next season approaches. But I am here anyway – disheveled, unfashionable, decidedly non-trendy and not at all prepared to fly in formation.

Pardon my appearance. Molting (or going through a spiritual “ponfar” -Trekkie reference) can be a little embarrassing. I’m apt to “lose it” at the most inconvenient times, and frankly I don’t even know if I agree with myself half the time.

But change is like that. Sometimes the hardest part is having grace for ourselves when our own inconsistencies and partially formed concepts frazzle our own nerves, let alone the people around us.

Thanks for your patience. You are very gracious, my friends.

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But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.  We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair;  persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed… (2 Corinthians 4:7-9)

 

Heresy!

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Some things are clear. Some things are not.

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This statement grabbed my attention:

Yesterday’s offense becomes tomorrow’s heresy.

When I heard this statement in a discussion of how the early church fathers handled (and mishandled) disagreement I had to pay attention.

Far too often I’ve heard the word heresy thrown at people on the journey –people who are in process, people who have not yet arrived. I have wondered what the difference is between being in error and promoting heresy. Perhaps this statement helps to clarify.

Yesterday’s offense becomes tomorrow’s heresy.

Some things are clear. Some things are not. By heresy I mean the big stuff – lies about the character of God (Father, Son and Holy Spirit), lies about who we are, and lies about God’s intent and interaction with us. By heresy I definitely do not mean the size and shape of a communion cup or how you cut your hair or your preferred worship style. I mean orthodoxy, the essentials of the faith, the Apostle’s creed kind of stuff. Behaviour and practices (orthopraxy) are the result of living out what we really believe.

So many truths are suspended in the tension of paradox (two seemingly conflicting concepts, dying in order to live, for example). In the process of asking the questions which give meaning to answers God gives latitude (aka grace) to explore all the neighbourhoods inside a paradox. Sometimes we revel in the revelation of an aspect of God we have not seen before. We celebrate it. We take it out for a spin to see how it works. We proclaim it.

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Then we feel the backlash from those who have had a different understanding. Then the bashing over the head with the Bible starts. Then proof-texts send less-than-subtle messages telling you to change back. Change is uncomfortable. It throws off the equilibrium of everyone around us.

I have friends who are vegan. The reason is not important here, although it is valid and unique to their situation. They will tell you that as soon as people learn of their choice they are confronted by the defensiveness of those who feel their freedom to eat egg salad sandwiches is being attacked. The temptation for some people in this situation is to retaliate and disparage the character of those who consume animal products. My gracious friends are not among them. You are perfectly welcome to consume a cheeseburger in their presence. Sometimes in Christianity, if you ask a scary question or make a choice that is different from others around you, the backlash can take you by surprise.

In the discussion about heresy one person pointed out that historically if the conversation stopped at the point where both sides could agree, or agreed to disagree on emphasis or the priority of a concept and how it plays out in our actions, there was still unity (if not uniformity) and a chance for seemingly different truths to exist within a paradox. Since ideas have consequences the way we choose to live out our faith in Christ will reveal which truth we emphasize (and our understanding at that particular moment –  which, if I may remind you, is subject to change as we seek the Lord and pay attention to what He is showing us. It’s called growth.)

Heresy takes root when we are unwilling to honour the truths in the understanding of others and must not only prove ourselves right, but are compelled to prove them wrong. I use the word “compelled” because the father of lies takes advantage of anger and unforgiveness to plant lies in this fertilized soil. That’s what he does. And history proves he has taken his role seriously.

People who have gone off the rails have often been good people who desired to pursue and honour God. Often a stream of Christianity has a revelation they have stewarded well, but when they chose to stand against other streams, to devalue and dishonor them in order to feel better about their choices, we can see heretical ideas begin to form within a generation or two. Out of feelings of hurt and rejection comes the defense and explanations that lead to division, proof-texting that ignores or dismisses context or other passages of scripture, and loss of sight of the other end of the paradox scale.

In other words, as 1 Corinthians 13 states, “We see in part.” There are already too many sects holding up their piece of the puzzle as if it is the only one. No one denomination has a monopoly on the truth, and no one denomination is entirely in error. As uncomfortable as questions and change and the potential for error make us feel, or as frustrated as the restraints of traditional understanding and practices make us feel, we in the universal church cannot afford to make our choices from a place of offense, unresolved issues and unforgiveness.

This way heresy lies.

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Truth needs to upheld and error corrected, yes, absolutely. But there is a better way.

It’s called love.

Young Love, First Love

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Blossom

You know those dreams where you are back in high school or university and you realize you have an exam and you can’t remember your locker combination or the room number — or if you ever went to that class? Sometimes my life feels like that when I’m awake. I thought I was done with learning something and I find myself back in school — only this time it’s the school of higher un-learning.

This week the song “Young Love, First Love” has been going through my head.

“And the significance of that, Lord?”

“You have no idea how deep the acceptance of performance-oriented, hypo-grace, approval-seeking, ‘me-do-it-self’, busy-ness-is-next-to-godliness thinking runs. Churchianity is full of it. So are you.”

“Still? Seriously? I thought I was doing much better.”

“Pack your bags. We’re going on a love-trip.”

Ok, I’ve been thinking (again) about the warning to the church in Ephesus that although their diligent efforts are appreciated, God said they had a serious problem. They had left their first love. However, I have this against you: you have abandoned your first love.  Do you remember what it was like before you fell? It’s time to rethink and change your ways. “(Rev 2:4) The messenger told them to return to it or they stood in danger of losing their light (their understanding and their influence symbolized by a candle stand).

I began to realize that my secret reaction to the warning was an internal groan that even though I had worked hard all summer there was something else that should have been on the list. Oh yeah, remember to spend time loving God. Oh boy, something else to do before I can put out the cat and get some sleep.

“Think again,” He said. “You’ve got some un-learning to do.”

That’s where the song came in. (I know the word the Bible uses is agape, the type of perfect all-giving love God has, and not eros, the type of love that makes us get all hot and bothered and more than a little self-conscious, but I think the connection is still there.)  I remember telling a lonesome young woman bemoaning her unattached state, that when people fall in love they actually fall in love with themselves in a way. When we see ourselves through the eyes of someone we respect and who thinks we are worthy of their time and attention, we are willing to lower our barriers a little. Sometimes we misjudge the quality of character in a person and find ourselves the object of the attentions of some obsequious little stalker who will hit on anything, but we learn and move on. But the attentions of someone we admire? Wow. Weak knees and butterfly stomach time. It can be a little disorienting. (So how to get a person of quality to fall in love with you? Become a person of quality yourself.)

When we fall in love we are constantly aware of that person’s presence. We know exactly where they are in a room without even looking. We are fascinated by everything they are. We want to know everything about them, their values become our values, their heartaches become our heartaches, their victories become our victories. We talk only about them and we need to be near. We have the urge to merge.

To be loved by someone you deeply respect who thinks you are worthy of his sacrifices, who can make you realize how amazing you are? Wow! He or she will inspire you to become bold and become a better person and do greater things simply because he or she believes in you.

You don’t fall in love with someone who makes you feel ashamed, or ugly, or unable to change. You fall in love with someone who makes you aware of your own potential -simply because their very presence in you life makes you realize you are of value to someone important. (Are you listening, Self?)

The lines of the song that keep running through my head: Young love, first love, filled with true devotion.Young love, our love, we share with deep emotion.

That’s it. He’s asking us to return to true devotion and deep emotion by letting him love us the way he wants to.  Returning to the source of our motivation, knowing that the Being of ultimate quality, and worthy of infinite respect longs for us, means we can start to see ourselves through His eyes. He shows us how amazing we are; he emboldens us to become more than we ever thought we could be, because he says we are worthy of his attention, his time, his sacrifice.

When we do we will long to become like our beloved, to make his priorities ours, to understand his heart, to share his secrets and rejoice in his victories. When we return to our first love, we live and move and have our being in Him and our sanctified imagination is again motivated by His love -his perfect, unselfish, giving love.

We blossom.

Come Up Higher

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I have a confession. I live in the mountains, and I love them, but I am afraid of heights. I’m a valley dweller. I prefer to look up at lofty mountain grandeur. Looking down makes me feel, well, uneasy, to say the least.

Some people who come here from sea-level cities also find themselves a little out of breath, even in the valleys, but for different reasons. It takes a while to adjust to the altitude. On the other hand, when we visited the Dead Sea area in Israel, which is well below sea level, I was amazed at the way I could scramble around on the rocks without becoming tired. My body had been trained simply by living on a higher plane.

Many of our friends are mountain climbers, including several who climbed Crowsnest mountain recently (the one pictured here.) My brother is a well-known climber who lives near Banff. I’m content to admire their drive, look at their photos and listen to their stories.

One story my brother tells is about the time he paired up with another climber to scale one of the highest mountains in the province on one of those rare days when its peak was not in the clouds. His friend had climbed many times before, but not quite that high, and not quite that fast. Neither of them expected that he would get altitude sickness. My brother said his friend began to act as if he were drunk. That’s when he knew he needed to help him back down -very carefully. The descent took longer than expected and they had to bivouac on the side of the mountain overnight. That means they secured their sleeping bags to stakes pounded into the sheer face of the mountain and tried to get some sleep -whilst one of them was exhausted and the other was impaired. Fun times.

Like I said, I prefer valley living. But in our spiritual lives sometimes God calls us to come up higher and see things from his perspective. Jesus took Peter, James and John on a mountain climbing trip when he wanted to let them in on some inside information.

“Come up here,” He told John later in a vision on the isle of Patmos, “I want to show you something.” And he did.

Mountain top experiences can be a little disorienting. Not only are we not accustomed to the perspective, we are not used to the altitude. It takes some time to adjust. We are meant to live at altitude -after all Paul tells us in Ephesians that we who have been adopted into the family of God are seated in high places with Christ. He calls us to come up higher and get his perspective, but sometimes it’s a little disorienting for valley dwellers. Sometimes we feel out of breath, our ears feel the pressure, our brains can’t keep up; some people feel downright panicky or sick for a time. The climb to higher ground can be frankly uncomfortable and even scary, so the Lord provides resting places along the way where we can take time to adjust, but soon he calls us to keep moving to higher ground -because he has something to show us we could not see any other way.

I want to live above the world,
Though Satan’s darts at me are hurled;
For faith has caught the joyful sound,
The song of saints on higher ground.

from “Higher Ground” by Johnson Oatman