The Pen & Sword

REMEMBERING MY 9/11 ACROSS THE OCEAN

2009-09-11T13:38:00.004-04:00

September 11, 2001, was a brilliant, breezy, fall day in Jurmala, Latvia, much as it was in New York City that day. I was working at my home in Jurmala that afternoon in my tiny, sun-drenched living room, and had thrown open all the windows to take full advantage of the beautiful weather. I was feeling lighthearted, and when my cell phone rang just before 4:30 p.m., I was happy to see the name of my good friend, Marika Bertule, on the phone’s tiny screen. My delighted quickly turned to shock and disbelief when, without any preliminary pleasantries she said in her near-flawless English, “Betsy, World Trade Center in New York and Pentagon have been attacked.”

Like so many in America and around the world that day, my brain was frozen by that momentary suspension of understanding that we all experience when we learn something that is too strange or too terrible to grasp. As I struggled to process the information, I remembering thinking, “World Trade Center—accident? Terrorism? But the Pentagon—impossible. It’s impregnable.” I was not accounting for large jetliners flown by suicide bombers motivated by hatred.

I had no TV, and, desperate for more information, instantly began searching for the only English language news available, the BBC. Their coverage was as confused as my thoughts, as the story was still breaking. I began calling my American friends in Jurmala, but all circuits were busy. My mind raced with nervous thoughts of friends who work in New York and at, or near, the Pentagon. I feared for the White House and Capitol.

That day I learned what a helpless and surreal feeling it is to be 8,000 miles from home at a time of national disaster. The hardest part of living abroad for me had always been the sense of being cut off from the national life of America, and never more than that day. It felt like a close relative had died and I could not be present to mourn with, comfort, or aid my surviving kinsmen. There’s nothing I could have done to help even if I had been stateside, but I felt a deep need to be there, to share this nightmare with my countrymen.

But even so far away, I did not feel alone in my grief. As soon as busy circuits would allow, and for days afterwards, I received calls from my Latvian and Russian friends offering heartfelt condolences and pledging prayers for my nation. Anna Jauce, my dear friend and boss from the Jurmala Language Centre where I taught English, knew that I did not have television and invited me to come to her house for the evening and watch CNN and Fox News coverage with her and her husband, Viesturs. She even invited me to spend the night if I wanted to watch the unfolding drama with them deep into the night, or if I just didn’t want to be alone. She wept with me.

At our mission church that Sunday, our Russian associate pastor insisted that we have a special prayer and memorial service within our regular weekly worship. He and others took the microphone to share impromptu what America had meant in their lives, the hope she gave them during the Soviet years, and their present gratitude for us and other American missionaries who, as they said, had left the comforts of the richest nation on earth to bring them Christ’s message of redemption that had changed their lives forever. By this time in our association with each other, many of them had visited the U.S. and knew whereof they spoke.

A few days later, I drove to the nearby capital, Riga, to visit the American Embassy. With the stepped-up security, it wasn’t possible to walk on the same side of the street as the embassy building, and there was a larger-than-usual contingent of Marine guards. But across the street, stretching for several blocks in either direction, was a beautiful display of solidarity with grief-stricken Americans around the world. Along those blocks in the space between the curb and the sidewalk, tied to parking meters and against close-standing trees were thousands of candles, teddy bears, handwritten prayers, letters and signs in Russian, Latvian, broken English, and many other languages, and other creative condolences. The air was fragrant with the scent of innumerable bouquets of flowers and single roses. They were left by businessmen, mothers pushing strollers, university students, tourists, and school children. As I stood at this sacred spot weeping with grief and gratitude, more than one passerby, assuming that I was American, stopped to simply say, “I’m sorry.”

As I attempted to photograph the embassy with flag at half mast and the wonderful memorial before it, one of the Marine guards came across the street and politely but firmly informed me that photographing the embassy was not allowed. Perhaps because he realized I was an American citizen, however, he did not ask me to delete the photos I had already taken. I remain grateful to him for that. Today, although they are temporarily in a storage crate in Atlanta, I have those wonderful photos to remind me that tragedy brings out people’s best as well as their worst, and that America truly does have friends around the world.

CARRIE - November 28, 1995 - August 1, 2009

2009-08-03T14:42:00.001-04:00

On Saturday in Woodstock, Georgia, my devoted pet and companion of fourteen years, Carrie, exited this life. My dear friends, Vicki and Jason Tinnel, and I were with her until her last breath.

Carrie was the pick of a litter of nine Labrador retrievers born in Jurmala, Latvia, on a snowy night to Gracie, dog of my friends Bob and Sharon Perry. Gracie didn’t understand motherhood yet, and dropped her pups all over the house or outside in the snow, then totally ignored them. Sharon--not noted for her strong stomach in such matters, but an intrepid woman--rushed from pup to pup, ripping the sacks off them with her bare hands and rubbing each one dry with a towel, saving them from certain death. Thus my Carrie came into the world.

Bob and Sharon knew that I loved Labs more than anything and chose Carrie from the litter as a gift for me, raising her for me until I returned to Latvia from the States three months later. When I arrived at last, it was love at first sight, and she enthusiastically embraced me as her “mama.” It was sheer joy. I remember I would sit in Pastor Bob’s big recliner in their basement, and Carrie would bound across the room and leap into my lap with the force of a cannon ball—more fun for her than me once she reached 30 or 40 pounds.

Of course, it wasn’t all joy during Carrie’s puppyhood. We moved into a newly renovated apartment. The following November, a church group in Virginia had gone to great expense to ship me materials to make chocolate chip cookies for my holidays so far away from home. One night I baked the cookies for some friends who had come for a movie night, two 9 x 13 pans full. While we were engrossed in the movie, Carrie sneaked up on the counter and ate every last one. The next day, she destroyed a wooden chair belonging to the landlord by chewing it to death, then proceeded to rip a great expanse of freshly hung wallpaper off a hallway wall. (I quickly learned how to strip and hang wallpaper!) Later, she chewed up the custom millwork of our beautiful wooden balcony. That one cost me $500 to fix—a lot of money for a missionary on a tight budget. I often said that she was the most expensive “free” dog in the world. Surprisingly, the landlord and his family still loved her.

Less destructive were our great times walking together on the beach in our Baltic Sea resort town. She would make a beeline for the water, even in winter when ice chunks cluttered the surf. When it was frozen solid, she would trot out across the slick surface to explore with her nose to the ice. She loved chasing crows and seagulls, and bouncing through snow up to her belly. When the beach was deserted, I would risk the $100 fine and let her off the leash to run free. She would run way ahead of me, and then come back as if to check in before dashing off again.

Carrie was a favorite among my friends, both here and abroad, and I never had a shortage of dog sitting volunteers when I needed them. She welcomed everyone to our various homes enthusiastically, but politely, without jumping on people or licking them. Once guests were seated, she would go to each one in turn, leaning against their legs and placing her head on their knees in search of a head scratch. Even the most stolid natures were won over.

When I finally returned to the States for good, I brought her with me on my transatlantic flight with four connections to make before our destination of Greenville, South Carolina. I was a nervous wreck for her, but Carrie was completely calm. The vet’s tranquilizers went unused. She had to go 26 hours without food, water, or a potty break, but arrived quite unfazed, except for a little jetlag.

I could go on and on, but could never adequately describe her wonderful personality, loyalty, kindness, love and faithfulness. Everyone, of course, thinks their dog is the best ever, but there could not possibly have been a dog more perfect for me, or a truer friend. She saw me through the loneliness of missionary life, financial difficulties, heartbreak, the loss of my mother, uncertainty about the future, and several moves between continents and cities. She made endless road trips with me, always happy to be with me even when it meant being cooped up in a car for hours. She was the constant in my life when everything else was changing. There will never be another dog like her. Like me, she had friends all over the world. We will all miss her terribly.

Carrie, rest in peace, sweet pea.

GET OUT!

2009-06-16T12:49:00.005-04:00

I came across this interesting and arresting quote today:

"...The word ‘mass’ is said to be derived from the final sentence of the old Latin rite, ite missa est. In polite English it might be rendered, ‘Now you are dismissed.’ In more blunt language it could be just, ‘Get out!’ – out into the world which God made and God-like beings inhabit, the world into which Christ came and into which he now sends us. For that is where we belong. The world is the arena in which we are to live and love, witness and serve, suffer and die for Christ..."

John Stott, New Issues Facing Christians Today

Timely words from Stott. For me, his words form a not-so-gentle reminder of why I and millions like me are cluttering up this planet.

In times like these when evil appears to be swallowing good at an unprecedented rate, it can be bewildering for believers. Many of us may find ourselves depressed, with the temptation to withdraw into the safety of our church walls, and develop a siege mentality. But if good refuses to engage evil, out there where it lives, what hope can we ever have of overcoming it?

No, we were created for such a time as this. We can never forget for a moment Jesus' own words to Peter that on the rock of revelation that Jesus is the Christ He would build His church, and the gates of Hell would not prevail against it. (Matthew 16:18) But we must BE the church as God designed it--each of us in close relationship with Him, bound to each other in love and unity, and with open hearts and hands extended to the world beyond, as the salt (preservative) of the earth. We must attack evil as God designed--not lobbing volleys of disgust and condemnation at sin from our safe positions behind the church fortress walls, but charging into the culture to engage sin in hand-to-hand combat, while embracing the sinner with Christ's love, demonstrating a better way.

History has shown that the church flourishes under pressure. We've had it awfully easy in the United States up until now. Let's not be the first generation of the church that wilts in fear and retreats at the first sign of pressure. Let's re-order our priorities, make sure our hearts are right, find our identity, power and confidence in Christ, and in humility, GET OUT!

MORE HAPPY THINGS

2009-06-14T22:27:00.008-04:00

In reference to my last post, and at the risk of appearing Pollyanna-ish, I just wanted to share a few more of the little things in life that make me happy, in hopes that they'll bring a smile your way, too.

This is Mickey Doodle, one of Gene and Donna Harris's two Yorkies. He is the crazy one. The serious looking one with hair in his eyes is Moseby. And he is the serious one. They are my little buddies in the absence of my own dog, who is staying with friends in ATL.

Another joy: Clematis vines that grow against the garage in the shape of a heart and bloom profusely.

Metal flowers made by artisans somewhere around Eureka Springs, Arkansas:

Light filtering through leaves:

"Surely you have granted him eternal blessings and made him glad with the joy of your presence." --Psalm 21:6

HAPPY AS KINGS

2009-06-14T20:48:00.005-04:00

Many years ago, when my niece was just a little girl, she cross-stitched a sweet, tiny picture for me that said this:

"The world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings."

That innocent yet confident declaration comes back to me whenever I find joy and wonder in the many feasts for spirit, soul, and senses that surround us all in life on this earth. It's something that happens often.

In these days of personal, national, and international turmoil and uncertainty, however, I confess that the cares of this world sometimes cloud my ability to see all the good stuff. This is sad, and wrong, because I am convinced that God has purposefully put all sorts of wonders in front of our eyes to give us happiness in the hard times, and more importantly, to remind us of his presence and love at all times.

Here is a case in point. Years ago on a mission trip I visited the nation of Estonia when it was still part of the USSR. To our team, first-time observers of the communist world, it seemed the darkest, most depressed place on earth. (That was until we went to Moscow.) I wrote in my journal then that everything there seemed colorless, in faded grayscale, like old World War II newsreels. Yet in the midst of the capital city of Tallinn, there was a flower market that had the most diverse, unusual, and colorful flowers that any of us had ever seen. Everywhere people were buying and giving flowers. One of the young women I was with marveled at this and asked God why they had such fabulous flowers in this cold, northern land with a very short growing season. Her impression from the Lord was that he had provided the Estonians with the flowers to give them color and joy in their drab lives and to let them know that he was with them. Sure sounds like a God-thing to me.

Today I had just such a reminder of God's presence and love in the gray times when I photographed the simple verbena blossoms from the backyard that you see posted here. In it's brightness, it seemed to be enjoying the perfect weather we had today just as much as I did.

Gazing at this little flower reminded me once again that the world really is full of gifts from God that bring a stronger, purer joy than the riches and power of kings. We just have to have eyes to see them. Stress and anxiety blind us. Gratitude to the Source of all we have brings the good stuff into sharp focus. God help us all to look around ourselves, see, and be glad.

TWO PATHS DIVERGED: MAKING THE BIG LIFE DECISIONS - Part Trois

2009-06-04T18:37:00.004-04:00

Here are the last of my insights on major decision making. I hope, readers, that you will offer some of your own.

3. GOD’S CHALLENGES (AND THE STAKES) ONLY GET BIGGER. Nothing challenges your faith, endurance, and insecurity like raising your own financial support, but nothing else grows and strengthens you so much. (Well, I’ve heard that marriage does that.) Once it seemed to me an insurmountable task to raise $1,000 for a two-week mission trip. As my confidence in God’s faithfulness grew, along with my needs as a full-time missionary, it took a lot more to scare me. In fact, I was feeling pretty good about my faith level one day after receiving an unexpected, large financial gift from someone I hadn’t been in contact with for years. Then I sensed the Lord’s internal voice saying, like a pin in my balloon, “Betsy, the faith challenges will only ever get bigger.” Oh well.

This is true of life as well as finances. God’s design is to grow your faith and character, and this only happens when you embrace increasing levels of challenge. This is why it’s never wise to dismiss an idea only because it seems bigger than you are. Often, that’s the very indicator of God’s will. He has something to prove to you, about you. He also has something to prove to you about himself.

4. FEAR AND LACK OF MONEY ARE NEVER REASONS NOT TO DO SOMETHING GOD WANTS YOU TO DO. Obstacles have a design. Some are placed in our paths to prevent us from doing something foolish or off God’s purpose; others are put there just to be overcome. Fear and lack of money are the latter. An old pastor of mine always used to say, “Where God guides, God provides.” It’s true. He has plenty of courage available to you to overcome fear, and plenty of monetary and material provisions to overcome lack. Let’s assume you’ve prayed, sought wise counsel, considered the ramifications of your possible choices, listened for the prompting of the Holy Spirit, and chosen a course that you truly believe is God’s will. If self-doubt, fear of failure, fear of man, fear of (fill in the blank) and/or wondering how you’ll ever pay for your choice is the only thing stopping you, trust God and go ahead. (See how that works in tandem with No. 3.?)

NOTE TO THE WISE: Know, however, that your decision will be tested over and over, but God will never fail you.

5. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY. Remember that FAITH is Factor No. 1 in the big decisions. Scripture says that in this life, we see in part, prophesy in part, and know in part (I Corinthians 13). This does not mean that we should entertain the doubts that will inevitably bombard us in our decisions, only that we will have them. But in faith we make our decisions on our best knowledge of ourselves, our Lord and his will that we have, and know that he will accomplish his purposes for our lives. Besides, don’t you think a tiny bit of uncertainty lends a little thrill to it all?

TWO PATHS DIVERGED: MAKING THE BIG LIFE DECISIONS - Part Deux

2009-06-03T19:50:00.011-04:00

“Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails.” – Proverbs 19:21

In my last post, I had just decided to leave my enjoyable life and government job in DC to become a missionary in Latvia, largely because I knew that if I didn’t go, I’d always wonder what might have been. That was a question I was not prepared to live
with. For some people, other factors would have had priority over answering the “What if?” question, things like security, family, or career. These are vitally important, and we are all different. For me, it was important to go. I felt it was God’s will, first of all; then, I felt it was a great way to make the most of being single, since I had the freedom to do it. So off I went into my excellent adventure.

So many challenges to my faith, my pluck, and my abilities ensued that I couldn’t even count them. Through it all, though, I learned much more about making major life decisions. Here are a few of them:

1. FAITH IS THE KEY INGREDIENT IN ANY DECISION. Scripture says that “Without faith it is impossible to please God” (Hebrews 11:6), and I would add that without faith, it’s really impossible to move forward in life. We can pray, get advice, make our lists of pros and cons, sweat, worry, cry, ad infinitum. (Believe me, I’ve done PLENTY of that.) But it the end, it’s faith in God’s goodness, his guidance, and his equipping for the task ahead that enables us to make the big decision, take the calculated risk, and walk forward in it with confidence. Faith is just as essential to decide that the new path is not the right path, as sometimes staying the course is the way forward. Faith even comforts us that if we do make a wrong decision, God is well able to redeem it as only He can.

2. TAKING HOLD OF A NEW CHALLENGE MEANS LETTING GO OF SOMETHING ELSE. When I decided to raise my own support and go to Latvia my congressional coworkers, depending on point of view, marveled either at my insanity or bravery. One woman whose life was a stunning success by any worldly standard, ranked in The Washington Post as one of Washington’s fifty most powerful staffers, told me that she envied me for having the guts to follow my dreams. She confessed that she could never do it. Granted, I didn’t have nearly as much to lose as she would have. Still, I had to let go of everything and everyone dear to me to embrace this new life, and there was never a moment when that sacrifice didn’t hurt. Yet I would do it again in a New York minute, because I’ve learned that taking on something new almost always necessitates letting go of something old, even if it’s only old attitudes or fears. And this, too, takes faith.

Stand by for Part Trois. And don't forget to comment with your own discoveries about making major life decisions.

TWO PATHS DIVERGED: MAKING THE BIG LIFE DECISIONS - Part I

2009-06-01T16:55:00.007-04:00

On Stages of Life (www.stagesoflife.com) this week I read a question from a twenty-something woman asking for advice on whether she should move to a distant state to take a good job opportunity or stay home, close to family and lifelong friends. I immediately felt myself tumbling through a mental time tunnel back some years when I faced a similar dilemma. All over again, I felt the swirl of conflicting emotions, the flood of pros and cons, and the competing voices of would-be counselors buzzing in my head. It gave me empathy and excitement for this young woman, and I started to fish through my head and heart for wisdom I could pass along to her. And I believe I found some.

In my own story, I was pushing forty, had a life I loved, and a secure congressional job in Washington, DC, the place I love more than anywhere else on earth. But there was a competing dream in my heart, to be a missionary and a nation re-builder in the former USSR. That’s when I got invited to do just that in the Republic of Latvia.

The dreamer and the practical in me suddenly clashed in sharp conflict. This was the kind of thing one does during one’s college summers, not in mid-career. I would have to raise my own financial support, which means I would actually have to ask people for money. Lots of people. I would be 8,000 miles from home in a land I’d only visited twice, briefly. My mother, a widow, was getting up in years. Would I go so far from her, not knowing how much time she might have left? It all rolled around in my head through many sleepless nights.

After a few weeks of this misery, I phoned my wise and dear friend, Dolly Gilbert. It was she and her minister and Renaissance-man husband, Jim, who had first taken me to Latvia with a mission team. Dolly solved the dilemma for me with one question: “Betsy, if you don’t go, you’ll always wonder, ‘What if . . . ?’ Can you live the rest of your life with that?”

No, I realized, I could not. For me, it would be better to make a mistake and come home, short a little time and money, than to wonder what might have been. My decision was made. The result was ten exciting, enriching, scary, stretching, delightful, hard, fun, and wonderful years in a land and with a people I grew to love like my own. (See photos of Latvia with this post.)

Of course, not every decision comes out so well. Every person has a different set of circumstances and priorities, as well as a different temperament and tolerance for risk. And, of course, for the Christian believers among us, discerning God’s will is Factor No. 1. But I’ve found that making the “what if” question part of my criteria for making big life decisions is a good and useful thing.

There’s more to come. Stay tuned for Part II. Also, share your own big-decision stories. Leave a comment!

ENCHANTING?

2009-04-30T20:16:00.005-04:00

Did anyone see the President's press conference last night? A lot of people felt that American journalism sank to new depths of absurdity with one reporter's question about what President Obama felt was the most "enchanting" thing in his first 100 days in the White House (as well as troubling and humbling). Although I agree with these folks that it was a silly, softball question, I confess that I was very interested to hear his answer. In fact, it was the most interesting thing in the whole press conference, which didn't have me singing "Some Enchanted Evening."

Regarding the "enchanting" part of the question, he said it was American troops, as he has now spent a little time with them, and their competence and fierce loyalty to our country (although he said "enchanting" wasn't exactly the word he would use).

All this got me wondering what has been the most enchanting thing in my life over the past 100 days, and in yours. Frankly, I can't think of anything I'd define that way for myself. But while I'm thinking about it, what about you, gentle readers? I'd love to know what has enchanted YOU these past 100 days. Send your comments.

IN CELEBRATION OF OLD FRIENDS

2009-04-29T14:21:00.004-04:00

How comforting and comfortable is an old friend! Last night I had dinner with one of my two roommates of seven-plus years from my first stint in the Washington, DC, area. That was longer ago than I care to note, but I’ll give you a hint: Ronald Reagan was President then. We’ve managed to stay in touch across continents and years, and now are delighted to be in the same locale once again.

Her name is Elaine, but we’ve always called her Lainey, or sometimes “Elainercise” for her avid commitment to exercise (something that I decidedly lacked). We couldn’t have been more different. I was raised in the Deep South; Lainey was a New England Yankee. Lainey was a tomboy; I was a girly girl, at least in comparison. We had more than enough differences to aggravate each other, but usually managed to get along famously.

She was a quirky one, that Lainey. Being a creature of unvarying habit and routine, her 9:00 p.m. bedtime was strictly observed, no matter what was going on. If dinner guests lingered, she shot out of her seat at 9:00 with the cheerful announcement, “OK, I’m going to bed now. Good-night everybody!” Our revenge was to leave the dishes for her to clean up in the morning. Dinner out always meant a burger or a chicken sandwich for Lainey, and she never ate green beans because she thought they looked like green worms. She went for a walk every single day, usually along the same route beside the Potomac River.

Lainey was either in high gear or off, no middle ground. She woke up wide awake without benefit of coffee. She was in perpetual motion, talked a mile a minute, and rarely self-censored anything, which caused her a few problems on occasion. But she never meant to offend, and was guileless. A serious bibliophile, she loved to wander through used book stores looking for deals on lovely old books.

Lainey adored children’s literature, as she had a delightful, childlike view of the world with a creative and vivid imagination to match. (Why else would she see green beans as worms?) I think she was very much like Beatrix Potter in that way. To me, this is her most endearing, and enduring, quality. She was also a very loyal friend, quick to forgive, and never held a grudge. And, she was fun.

All this discussion about Lainey I have stated in the past tense. The best part of her, however, is that she hasn’t changed. Our lives have been so divergent, and on some things we differ where we once agreed, but she is in essence the same person with the same endearing quirks and qualities whom I lived with all those years ago. It is rich and comforting to have such a friend, especially in times of personal and national upheaval, a constant when everything else is shaking. As I start life over in the DC area with new friends and situations, it’s great to connect with a friend whom I know so well, and who knows me so well. It is comfortable as well as comforting, like putting on your favorite slippers at the end of a long day on your feet, or savoring your favorite soothing music after enduring the cacophony of the city all day. So, three cheers for old friends!

I have to tell you, though, that although the chicken sandwich is still a favorite menu item for Lainey, she has branched out into Thai cuisine.

AH, SPRING!

2009-04-24T12:16:00.022-04:00

Poets and essayists have extolled the virtues of spring from time immemorial, and there's really nothing new I can say about it. Still, I feel compelled to mark its arrival in some way and express my gratitude that spring always follows winter. It's one of the few things in life we can really depend on. No matter how deep, dark, and cold the winter, we can always count on the arrival of spring with its warmth, color, new life, and the revival it brings to our souls.

I happen to believe that this is more than a just natural phenomenon, but was
designed to be a sign of hope to every human being, like the rainbow. Although seasons of darkness, trouble and death come to all of us, as surely as spring follows winter new life, growth and times of joy will follow. Like trees, as we pass each cycle of the seasons (each of which has its own beauty and purpose), we grow stronger, taller, bear more fruit, and provide more shade for others with each round. Life is never static, in the natural or spiritual worlds. For this I am also thankful.

So, to commemorate spring this year, I've posted a few snapshots I took of the pure, simple glories of spring around Northern Virginia yesterday. Enjoy! And rejoice in spring!

GOD'S BEST REVENGE WHEN I DON'T LIKE SOMEONE

2009-04-22T13:44:00.002-04:00

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.
-- Philippians 2:3

It’s exceedingly rare that I come across a person that I simply don’t like. When I have, however, I’ve tended to REALLY dislike that person to the degree that it’s difficult for me to see his or her good qualities in the glare (in my mind) of the flaws that annoy me. Just being honest here. Don’t go harrumphing; you have your own shortcomings. God never lets me get away with it, though. In fact, He has a particularly devious, yet failsafe, method of correcting me in these cases.

When I have disliked someone, God has deliberately used that person to serve me in some way or otherwise be an instrument of special blessing in my life. You might think that He would use me to serve that person, and eventually He does, but initially it’s always the other way around. It’s far more humbling that way. You know what I mean if you’ve ever had someone you can’t stand go out of their way to do you a particularly kind, generous, thoughtful or unselfish favor. It’s like having someone wash your feet.

When God sets up such a situation, all the haughty disdain melts away into repentance for my attitude and I am freed to see that person objectively, in her entirety and not just her flaws, to embrace and not reject her. God uses this method to show me the darkness of my own heart and His forbearance toward me. Then I am inspired to serve and forbear with the one I once disdained with a new heart of God’s overarching love, even if I never quite learn to like him.

I’ve learned a few things through this correctional program, and simply from living and working with folks. None of this is rocket science, but it’s worth pointing out. One is that I’m just as annoying to some people as others are to me, so there’s no need to get self-righteous about someone else’s shortcomings. God not only puts up with me, but loves and encourages me, after all, and I should imitate Him in extending the favor. Another is that some of the people with the most extreme flaws also possess equally extreme qualities, and that I rob myself of enjoying and benefiting from the best in them if I refuse to accept the whole package. Finally, I’ve learned that grace begets grace, and the more I extend it to others, the more they extend it to me.

God knows, we could use more grace and forbearance toward each other in this polarized, accusing world in which we live. May our words and the attitude of our hearts toward one another be seasoned with that grace, even when we must confront our differences.

NOTE: So many wonderful people have been the vehicle of incredible good toward me the past few years that I’m in danger of making a lot of folks wonder if I’m talking about them in this post. You know who you are, and I’m not talking about you!

THOUGHTS FOR A SNOWY DAY

2009-03-02T12:53:00.012-05:00

Nobody loves snow like I do. I pray for snow when everyone else is praying for spring. I guess I was deprived, growing up in South Carolina. Ten years in Latvia should have made up for that, but I just can't get enough of it.

Anyway, today we've got it in spades here in Virginia--plenty of white, blowing, drifting, magical, beautiful snow. It's the kind that sticks to the windward side of the trees, marking each with a long white stripe. There is a big drift on the rooftop landing outside my window that sparkles like diamonds each time the sun peeks through the clouds for a moment. I'm happy to stay inside, but I did go out long enough to take a few photos in the backyard that I hope you'll enjoy.

Maybe one of the reasons I love snow so much (besides that it provides a good excuse to stay indoors with a good book and a cup of hot chocolate) is that, to me, it symbolizes God's grace and blessing. In fact, I was thinking this morning as I looked out at the white world about the parallels between what happens in the life of a snowstorm and what happens in God's plan of redemption.

Maybe I'm reaching here, but this is what I see. Snow falls and covers everything--the good, the bad, and the ugly--with a beautiful blanket of purest white. It reminds me of Isaiah 1:18 which says, "'Come now, let us reason together,' says the LORD. 'Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.'" As glorious as a snow-covered landscape is, a heart and life covered with God's grace through the Blood of Jesus is infinitely more glorious. It blankets our sins, shortcomings, even our best human efforts, with the one thing that can change us from the inside out.

That process of change, however, is where it all gets messy, like melting snow. As the fluffy white stuff turns to a wretched brown slush, so that initial joy of salvation we each feel gives way to wondering what the heck happened as God's hard work of sanctification begins in our lives. He starts out playing nice, sure. But then He starts churning up all the junk in our lives, letting us see ourselves for who we really are. He begins with the blatant, "big" sins like drug addiction, adultery, or cheating on our income taxes, for example. If we make it through that, then He starts the fine tuning with less obvious, heart issues like selfishness, pride, and unforgiveness. Yikes! If you've been there, you know that it's messy, and definitely not pretty sometimes. It's like slogging through the mush after a snow and wondering what possessed to you to get out in all that. But sometimes it's the only way to get from point A to point B.

Thank God(quite literally), that's not the end of the snow story, nor our walk through God's uncomfortable sanctification process. That hazardous, soupy, brown eyesore is finally warmed by the sun and melts into the ground, softening it and bringing forth verdant new life and great beauty from that dead brown stuff that used to be our grass or flowers. God's love and grace, warm as the sun, softens our hearts and by His miracle power brings forth new life and growth in amazing beauty where death and yucky stuff lived before.

And with that, the cycle of sanctification is finished. . .until the next round. Like the seasons, it never ends. You know just what I mean, don't you?

KEEPING SIN, THROWING OUT CONDEMNATION

2009-02-24T15:09:00.005-05:00

Greta Van Susteren’s interview last week on FOX News with eighteen-year-old Bristol Palin about her very public pregnancy and unwed motherhood raised some conflicting thoughts in my mind. For example, while I questioned, on several levels, the wisdom of the Palins allowing their young daughter to be interviewed on national television, I also admired Bristol’s and the family’s courage in doing so. While I wish that Bristol had not gotten in this situation (or engaged in the behavior that caused it), I marveled and rejoiced to see such family support and solidarity in tough times. And when grandmother Sarah Palin brought baby Trip to Bristol on camera at the end of the interview, well, how could anyone but rejoice that such a precious new life has come into the world? Bristol is to be commended for taking responsibility and raising her child instead of aborting it.

Still, it was just a little disturbing to see how completely comfortable this Christian family seemed with their plight, one born out of what used to be known as sin. Of course, we cannot see into their hearts and private thoughts, and I’m not suggesting they should be self-flagellating over Bristol’s situation. They are living under God’s grace and moving on. Yet perhaps there might have been some expression of remorse.

Bristol stated that she was going public with her story because she wants to serve as a spokesperson against teenage pregnancy. Not teen sex, but teen pregnancy. She called abstinence “unrealistic.” Never in the interview did she ever suggest that what she did was wrong, only that it would have been easier to have waited until college and establishing a career were behind her.

I was discussing this with a friend who many years ago found herself in Bristol’s shoes. She told me that she never referred to her pregnancy as sin outside of her family, because she felt that somehow it made her child. . .less. Understandable. I had just seen Oliver Twist on television and was reminded, with a shudder, that we really aren’t that far away from the irrational and deplorable stigmatization and mistreatment of children who simply had the misfortune to be orphaned, much less born out of wedlock, that has marked society throughout all but fairly recent history.

The social statement made by the Palins, however, could not be starker in contrast to the old way. They are symbolic of a society that has moved beyond that, and thank God for it. I wonder, though, if in leaving behind the rejection and stigmatization of unwed mothers and their children, it was also necessary to leave behind the concept of sin.

Atheists and some liberals would say yes, and that secularization’s doing away with absolute standards of right and wrong is a sign of society’s great enlightenment. They would insist that designation of any act as sin or suggestion that one should feel a moment’s shame over any personal action is intolerant, judgmental, and hateful.

Perhaps we Christians are to blame for this. We know that God’s standards of sin as given to us in Scripture are good, not only because they are from God, but because they promote healthy families and lifestyles which in turn promote healthy and prosperous societies. We know that admitting when we have sinned and taking responsibility for our actions is good for both our souls and our communities. But maybe for too long we have divorced grace from sin and invested more energy in condemning the sinner along with the sin than we have in showing why God’s ways are good for us. We have unwittingly given fodder to the secularists and caused them to throw out the baby with the proverbial bathwater.

Some of the church is still stuck in the habit of condemning people, rather than challenging their actions. Other parts of the church have joined the secularists in throwing out any notion of sin. The former leaves the church dead in legalism and irrelevance, offering no hope to a lost world. The latter leaves us no clear alternative to the world’s system, adds to the disintegration of society, and dishonors God. It’s time for all of us find the balance in the example of Jesus, who never left sin unchallenged and called it by it’s true name, but always showed a better way, offering grace for healing and deliverance from sin to all who would receive it.

Whether or not the message has been a bit muddled, I choose to believe that this desire to show a better way is exactly what motivates the Palins to handle their daughter’s situation as they are. More power to them.

What do you think?

Renewing Gratitude, Renewing Hope

2009-02-17T12:18:00.003-05:00

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. –Colossians 3:15

My friend Amy Azar, a missionary in South Africa, sent me this photo of people’s “homes” in Khaylitsha Township there. Take a long look at it. I’m sure your first thoughts will match mine: “Oh my God—I can’t believe people really live in those things. How awful!” No doubt this exclamation was accompanied by compassion and a desire, yet with some sense of powerlessness, to do something about it. That, however, is a subject for another post.

Today, I wonder if you see the thing that immediately arrested my attention in this photo, that is, that big, healthy-looking mass of green plants with bright yellow flowers beside the shack on the left. I marveled that in this scene of total desolation there is still a symbol of beauty and hope. I wondered if the flowers grew wild, a gift from God, or if some impoverished resident of indomitable spirit planted them there. Either way, they are a cause for hope.

As I pondered these things, I heard that still, small voice of God say to my heart, “There is always something to be thankful for.” These words pricked my heart, because I knew He was talking about me, not about poor South Africans.

I’ve had some struggles lately, and sometimes (OK, frequently) have given in to self-pity and internal grumbling. I say “internal” grumbling because, as a “mature Christian”, I know better than to complain loudly to people. But God sees—and hears—what goes on in the heart, and there’s no hiding it from Him. I knew I might as well ‘fess up and repent of an ungrateful heart.

Such a heart is an insidious enemy, because nothing freezes out intimacy with God faster than ingratitude. I know, because I speak from experience. It can make your most intimate Friend seem like a distant cousin in no time, and grieves His heart. It makes you painfully aware of what you lack and forget all the rich blessings you possess, skewing your view of reality. It cuts off fellowship with God, joy, life, and eventually makes you mean, cold and hard.

Conversely, nothing opens up the wellspring of God’s love, blessing, and companionship like a thankful heart. Gratitude in everything is like a sweet fragrance to the Lord that warms His heart and brings Him joy and glory. (It makes you smell better to everyone else, too.) It makes you soft, warm, joyful and compassionate. And gratitude begets more gratitude, first to God and then to others. It allows praise to rise in our hearts and gives us eyes to see the hand of God and his miracles, big and small, in all our circumstances, renewing hope for the future.

Yes, it’s better to be thankful than to be a whiner. So I have determined to make a habit of thanking God for specific things every day, and ending each day with thanks. Today, for example, I am thankful that my fourteen-year-old Sable is running well and that I get to prepare and serve dinner at a homeless shelter tonight.

Why don’t you join me? What are you thankful for today? Send me your list as a comment.

DAVY CROCKETT VS. BIG GOVERNMENT

2009-02-06T12:37:00.005-05:00

My, how times have changed in the U.S. Congress since the days of the inimitable Davy Crockett! Then, federal coffers were flush with cash and members thought twice about how they spent the people’s money. Considering the “stimulus package” passed by the House and now before the Senate, it might do us good to consider the following story from Crockett’s life as a congressman.

When Colonel Davy Crockett was in the U.S. Congress (sometime between 1827 and 1835), a bill came up to appropriate money for support of a widow whose husband had been a decorated naval officer. It seemed the bill, for such a worthy cause, would sail through unopposed. That was until Crockett rose to speak in opposition. He told his House colleagues of how he had once voted for a similar bill and felt very good about himself for doing so, until he later ran into a wise constituent named Horatio Bunce while roaming the hinterlands of his district campaigning for re-election.

Colonel Crockett continued to tell how he ran into Mr. Bunce in a field, introduced himself, and asked him for his vote. Bunce replied that he would never give it, precisely because of Crockett’s “yes” vote on that charity appropriation, a provision of $20,000 in federal aid to victims of a fire in Georgetown (DC). Mr. Bunce, you see, felt that such a vote was an abuse of the Constitution. An incredulous Crockett asked him to explain why his compassionate vote violated the U.S. Constitution. Below is Colonel Crockett’s account of their dialogue:

“My papers say that last winter you voted for a bill to appropriate $20,000 to some sufferers by a fire in Georgetown. Is that true!"

"Certainly it is, and I thought that was the last vote for which anybody in the world would have found fault with."

"Well, Colonel, where do you find in the Constitution any authority to give away the public money in charity!"

"Here was another sockdologer; for, when I began to think about it, I could not remember a thing in the Constitution that authorized it. I found I must take another tack, so I said:

"Well, my friend; I may as well own up. You have got me there. But certainly nobody will complain that a great and rich country like ours should give the insignificant sum of $20,000 to relieve its suffering women and children, particularly with a full and overflowing Treasury, and I am sure, if you had been there, you would have done just as I did."

"It is not the amount, Colonel, that I complain of; it is the principle. In the first place, the Government ought to have in the Treasury no more than enough for its legitimate purposes. But that has nothing to do with the question. The power of collecting and disbursing money at pleasure is the most dangerous power that can be entrusted to man, particularly under our system of collecting revenue by a tariff, which reaches every man in the country, no matter how poor he may be, and the poorer he is the more he pays in proportion to his means. What is worse, it presses upon him without his knowledge where the weight centers, for there is not a man in the United States who can ever guess how much he pays to the Government. So you see, that while you are contributing to relieve one, you are drawing it from thousands who are even worse off than he. If you had the right to give anything, the amount was simply a matter of discretion with you, and you had as much right to give $20,000,000 as $20,000. If you have the right: to give to one, you have the right to give to all; and, as the Constitution neither defines charity nor stipulates the amount, you are at liberty to give to any and everything which you may believe, or profess to believe, is a charity, and to any amount you may think proper. You will very easily perceive, what a wide door this would open for fraud and corruption and favoritism, on the one hand, and for robbing the people on the other. No, Colonel, Congress has no right to give charity. Individual members may give as much of their own money as they please, but they have no right to touch a dollar of the public money for that purpose. If twice as many houses had been burned in this county as in Georgetown, neither you nor any other member of Congress would have thought of appropriating a dollar for our relief. There are about two hundred and forty members of Congress. If they had shown their sympathy for the sufferers by contributing each one week's pay, it would have made over $13,000. There are plenty of wealthy men in and around Washington who could have given $20,000 without depriving themselves of even a luxury of life. The Congressmen chose to keep their own money, which, if reports be true, some of them spend not very creditably; and the people about Washington, no doubt, applauded you for relieving them from the necessity of giving by giving what was not yours to give. The people have delegated to Congress, by the Constitution, the power to do certain things. To do these, it is authorized to collect and pay moneys, and for nothing else. Everything beyond this is usurpation, and a violation of the Constitution."

"So you see, Colonel, you have violated the Constitution in what I consider a vital point. It is a precedent fraught with danger to the country, for when Congress once begins to stretch its power beyond the limits of the Constitution, there is no limit to it, and no security for the people. I have no doubt you acted honestly, but that does not make it any better, except as far as you are personally concerned, and you see that I cannot vote for you."

For the very interesting details and happy ending to this story, please follow the link at the bottom of this post. Suffice it to say that Crockett declared he would put up a week’s worth of his own salary and challenged every colleague to do the same, and Congress voted down the charity bill before them. Whether they all anted up, I can’t say.

There’s little I can add to Mr. Bunce’s eloquence and logic on this subject. I simply encourage you to carefully consider the principles he presents. How much more loathe should Congress be to spend money not their own on “charity” for corporations and municipalities whose woes are largely self-inflicted, and at a time when we are trillions of dollars in debt. May God grant us not politicians, but statesmen of wisdom and character, like Davy Crockett, who value what is right more than re-election.
_______________________

This story appeared in The Life Of Colonel David Crockett, by Edward S. Ellis, published by Porter & Coates in 1884. Now in the public domain. Quoted from the website of Advocates for Self-Government at http://www.theadvocates.org/library/christian-crockett.html.

THOUGHTS ON THE MORNING AFTER – PART III

2008-11-09T13:03:00.000-05:00

Animated discussions are flying around the Christian community about what the election of Barack Obama really means, and there is no shortage of opinions. I have read (although I can’t confirm where) that thirty-two percent of evangelicals voted for Barack Obama. Clearly, they see his election as the dawn of a new day for America. Many others see it as the last nail in the coffin for millions more unborn babies and perhaps for our free nation itself. Some see blessing, others judgment. There are other questions. Was it God’s will, or not? Does God still judge nations today, or did Jesus bear all judgment in this life for us? How much responsibility for what happened rests with an apostate church? What do we, as the church, need to learn from this? Is God done with America, or are our best days still ahead?

All this will be discussed for a long time to come, and I don’t pretend to know the answers. I simply want to look further at the good that could result from the election of America’s first African-American president. While it is surely possible to overstate the potential in this historic event, it’s not possible to overstate its effect on the African-American spirit. It’s worth looking at the possibilities of that boon.

Obama’s election has African-Americans from coast to coast feeling like full citizens of the United States at last, with an unprecedented sense of hope and opportunity. Some will argue that their hope is misplaced in a false messiah. While that is no doubt true for many, my prayer is that their newfound hope will breed a sense of the possible that will cause them to dig deep within the untapped wealth of their own souls for the stuff to participate and succeed in the American Dream. As Don Imus said, now little black children as well as little white children can puff out their chests and say, and believe, “I could be president of the United States someday.” While legal barriers to black advancement have long been removed, now psychological barriers have been removed, as have all excuses. It is time for African-Americans to dream and move forward toward those dreams in the land of opportunity.

Most important, the remaining barriers to full healing of centuries-old wounds and reconciliation between black and white in this country have been torn down. It won’t happen overnight, but we can make great strides toward that end. This should be a high-priority goal for all of us.

Now imagine what strength and power would come into the American economy and the American soul if these things came to pass. Picture an America where citizens of all races believed in, and actively took part in, the goodness and opportunity of this nation. See a country where soul-rending mistrust and hatred between races gave way to trust and a sense of shared destiny. Savor the vision of a nation where old stereotypes melted away and each of us judged a person, as Dr. King envisioned, by his character and not the color of his skin, whether white or black. Such an America would truly fulfill her destiny to be a shining city upon a hill, “one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”

You may say, “You think all that can come out of the election of one African-American president?” Well, it’s a good first step. These are things for which we should diligently pray and work. I guess I’m just idealistic enough to believe it could happen.

Thoughts on the Morning After - Part Deux

2008-11-06T17:56:00.002-05:00

I happen to believe that the election of Barack Obama to the presidency of the United States represents the beginning of God’s judgment on America, and the American church in particular (I Peter 4:17). However, in his incredible mercy, God’s judgment is redemptive, and there are some good things that will come out of this.

Let’s start with what this election means for African-Americans. Their elated faces and euphoric comments on the news after the election made me realize that for black Americans, Barack Obama’s election means that their emancipation is finally complete. They finally feel like full, equal citizens of the United States. Whoopi Goldberg expressed it well when she blogged on www.wowowow.com:

I realized that for probably the first time in my life, in thinking about myself as an American, it occurred to me that this is really our arrival in the country that said everything was possible. We have finally become part of the fabric of the United States of America.

No white eye rolling out there, please. You and I may believe that African-American equality was secured by the Emancipation Proclamation, the Reconstruction Amendments, or the Civil Rights Act of 1964. On paper, that is true, but experiential reality may be quite different. We know very well the horrific treatment of blacks by some whites throughout our earlier history. Yet it remains hard for us to understand why many African-Americans have never felt secure in their equal rights or became invested in their citizenship. Maybe this is because white people assume everyone experiences full equality because we have never had to defend equality for ourselves. But we need to embrace a broader view.

Perhaps we have underestimated the depth of the generational wounds of slavery and post-slavery injustice and overestimated levels of healing and reconciliation. This leads us to think things like, “Why can’t they quit whining and just get over it? That stuff ended forty years ago.” However, that is like an unfaithful husband whose wife is still learning to trust him again and gets upset if he comes home late one evening. He may grouse to her, “I already said I was sorry and I won’t do it again. Why can’t you just get past this?” We would think him a Neanderthal. Deep wounds take a lot of time to heal, and we need to extend grace and understanding, as well as encouragement to overcome and jump into America with both feet.

Of course, there are many African-American attitudes and ways that fall short, too, but we are not responsible for them. What this election has shown me is that I, and probably almost all white people, have seriously underestimated the enormity and pervasiveness of African-American feelings of disenfranchisement. The euphoria will fade and Obama supporters of all races will learn soon enough that he is not a messiah, but a man, a flawed human being like all others. But for now, whatever we think of the man and his policies, let us rejoice and share the shining moment with our African-American countrymen, and pray that God will use this singular event to bring about major breakthroughs. What those might be are for discussion in Part III. (This could go on a long time!)

Thoughts on the Morning After - Part I

2008-11-05T12:28:00.002-05:00

Ironically, as a McCain supporter I was more depressed when I woke up yesterday on Election Day morning than I am on this morning after. Christians prayed fervently for God’s will in this election, and God answered with a win for Barack Obama. We may disagree on whether this represents mercy or judgment on our nation, but regardless, Obama will be our next president. How we Christians deal with this reality may be a test from God to see where our hearts really lie. Will we react like one more angry interest group whose agenda has been thwarted by our political enemy, or will we humble ourselves under God’s sovereign hand, in a spirit of repentance for our own sins and failures, and seek him for more effective and loving ways to be salt and light, in truth and grace, for our nation?

As I wrote earlier in the week, a great place to start would be on our knees on this Wednesday morning. After that, we might try looking for the silver lining in what we may consider the dark cloud of the Obama win. Here are a few thoughts:

1. Let’s start with the obvious: America has just elected her first African-American president. If we can find little else to celebrate in an Obama victory, we can all certainly rejoice in this colossal milestone for our country. I grew up in the segregated South and still vividly remember the “Orangeburg Massacre” in my town, a race riot that ended in the police killing of three black college students, all because a couple of young black men dared to ask for service at the snack bar in the local bowling alley. How far we have come in forty years! And who would have thought then that the state whose borders held the capital of the Confederacy would go blue for Barack Obama in 2008? This is a victory for America and for humanity.

2. Those who use the accusation of racism to excuse every personal or political failure, or to not even try to achieve in life, no longer have that excuse. The perceived barrier has been broken. Don Imus said yesterday that, although he voted for McCain, he would be happy for an Obama win because it would give black children across America the ability to dream, perhaps for the first time, that they really can be anything they want to be, even president of the United States. What people believe about themselves has a far greater impact on their lives than government entitlements ever could.

3. The reality of numbers 1 and 2 above make a far better case for American blacks in this land opportunity than all the liberal carping about the hopeless socio-economic situation of blacks and others. Ironically, Obama’s very success begins to undermine the presuppositions supporting wealth redistribution and entitlement programs. Sometimes unintended consequences are positive.

4. It may be hard to overestimate the hope the historic Obama victory brings to American citizens, even those of us who oppose his policies, in this time of economic doom saying. I’ll wager his election will do more for the markets than that bailout boondoggle.

Some believers will, unfortunately, refuse to see any positive implications of an Obama presidency and bitterly focus on the disasters that could result. Those who do, give in to fear, which never serves us well, and they forget that God is still on his throne.

Civilized Genocide

2008-11-02T22:37:00.003-05:00

by Jim Mills

Note to readers: For those of you who don't know Jim Mills, he is a missionary, singer/musician, theologian, historian,culture warrior,and general renaissance man who lives with his wife in Belgium and has ministered throughout Europe for over thirty years. I had the pleasure of meeting them when I lived in Latvia. He had sent this essay to me in response to my last blog post, and I asked him if I could share it here.

In 1945, the Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces ordered as many films and photos and testimonies be gathered as remotely possible of the devastation and horror found in the Nazi concentration camps. It wasn’t an infatuation with gruesomeness that prompted American General Dwight D. Eisenhower to give this order. Rather it was so that future generations would never question that the holocaust actually took place. In his own words, “Collect as much proof through films, testimonies, photographs. . .because the day will come when some son of a bitch will say this never happened.”

Six million Jews, 20 million Russians, and ten million Christians and priests were executed in this tragic chapter of history in western civilization. Most of the holocaust took place in three to five years. If the war had not ended when it did, perhaps there would have been multiplied millions more who would have lost their lives.

There is also ample evidence of the horrific genocide that has taken place in Rwanda, the Congo, Sudan, Darfur, and elsewhere. Thanks to the media, we in the West can be made aware of the atrocities and then take some kind of action. The question to ask: Have we taken action?

Though the number of horrors is staggering in the last 20-60 years, there is an even greater horror that has taken place throughout the so-called civilized world. A civilized genocide has taken place in which as many as 150,000,000 around the world have been murdered, butchered, and some simply left to die without any assistance. The holocaust in America alone stands at 50,000,000. The blood of these precious and innocent children cry out. Do we have ears to hear?

In the next eight years new Supreme Court justices will be set in by the newly elected president of the USA. Both candidates have made their position clear.
John McCain will appoint judges that will eradicate the horrible practice known as partial-birth abortion, as well as work to overturn Roe vs. Wade that launched this civilized genocide in the USA 34 years ago.

Barak Obama has also made his position known. He said,

“The first thing I'd do as President is sign the 'Freedom of Choice Act' (known as FOCA). This proposed legislation would create a federally guaranteed 'fundamental right' to abortion through all nine months of pregnancy, including, as Cardinal Justin Rigali of Philadelphia has noted in a statement condemning the proposed Act, 'a right to abort a fully developed child in the final weeks for undefined health reasons.'"

In essence, FOCA would abolish virtually every existing state and federal limitation on abortion, including parental consent and notification laws for minors, state and federal funding restrictions on abortion, and conscience protections for pro-life citizens working in the health-care industry, in other words, protections against being forced to participate in the practice of abortion or else lose their jobs.

The question is, do we have ears to hear the cries of the ca. 50,000,000? Many throw up their hands and say, "What can we do?"

There is something you can do to resist the triumph of evil. Recall to mind the words of Edmund Burke, who famously said, “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men [and I add "and women"] do nothing.” Do something. Vote for life.

My Reflection on the Election

2008-10-30T20:42:00.001-04:00

It’s probably safe to say that more Christians have collectively spent more hours in prayer about this presidential election than just about anything else in our lifetimes. While no one—Christian or otherwise—doubts the gargantuan importance of this election or the magnitude of its consequences, it is mystifying how much disagreement there is in the church about who the right candidate is.

For many reasons beyond the scope of this essay, it is extremely difficult for me to understand how anyone who names the Name of Christ could overlook so much ranging from questionable to disturbing to vote for Barack Obama (and I welcome comments to the contrary). Yet many devoted Christians who love God and pray earnestly favor Obama. I have a dear friend, a true lover of God and a brilliant woman, who enthusiastically supports Obama and believes there is sinister, perhaps even demonic, activity on the Republican side intended to derail her candidate. With the ACORN mess and other suspicious reports, I have felt the same about the Democratic side trying to undermine McCain. We both believe the other’s candidate lies or hides the truth about his record, policies, or associations. We both pray for truth to prevail. We pretend to view that as a point of agreement, yet we have different ideas of what truth probably is in this case. It is very sad that this should be.

One pundit perhaps summed it up well by suggesting that Obama supporters support whom they hope he will be, not who he is. In my humble judgment, that’s a dangerous gamble. Thank God, at least, that we do have the freedom to choose, and make our choice before God.

Two things are certain. First, we are all praying for God’s Perfect Will to be done in the election, while hoping and believing that his Will includes our candidate. Second, because God is sovereign and because the Church has prayed diligently, God will certainly have his way in the selection of our president, regardless of who wins. We will receive the Lord’s mercy or his long-withheld judgment.

Like many Christians, I have prayed for mercy to triumph over judgment, even though I know we deserve judgment. I have for years asked God to be as harsh as he needs to be, but as gentle as he can be, to get our attention and deal with the sins of this nation, beginning with the Church. As our parents used to tell us, we can choose to learn our lessons the easy way or the hard way.

No matter what happens, however, our response as believers should be the same, knowing that God’s ways are always redemptive and that judgment is really simply severe mercy. Those who don’t yet know the Lord often think God judges to punish or be mean. We who know his loving nature, though, understand that when he allows judgment, it is always to draw his people back to himself, for their eternal good and his own glory. This we can all agree on.

We still have five days to pray earnestly and honestly for God’s choice for President of the United States. On Wednesday morning some of us will be elated and some grief-stricken. Whatever happens on Tuesday, however, we should each fall on our knees on Wednesday in humility and gratitude, either for his amazing grace and mercy, or because he loves us enough to discipline us. And let’s also respond with renewed commitment to Jesus’ two great commandments, to love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength and to love our neighbor as ourselves, and so be salt and light to our ever-darkening culture. God is in control, regardless of who inhabits the White House. If we’ll do this, the Lord may yet grant us grace to turn this ship of state around.

Who Will Be Our Messiah?

2008-10-24T15:34:00.000-04:00

This election has brought into focus two things positively mystifying, and ominous, about Americans’ attitude toward the presidency of the United States. One is how much blame they foist onto the President for things that are, constitutionally, the responsibility of Congress, or, worse, that are beyond the control of any human being, such as bad weather. The other is how much they look to a president to be a savior from every sort of corporate or even personal ill and discomfort, exemplified by Barack Obama’s “messiah” status with many voters. These phenomena are ominous because they indicate an elevation of the presidency that borders on idolatry. They signal a return of the age-old tendency—once anathema in this country—to look not to ourselves under God for our governance and solutions to national problems, but to a single strong leader to save us.

The same thing happened in Israel millennia ago. Since their arrival in the Promised Land, the Jews essentially had a theocracy led by judges and prophets, who administered justice, taught them the law of God, and led them in battle. Under this system, they did just fine without benefit of a king or a huge bureaucracy. That was until they asked their leader, Samuel the prophet, to, “appoint a king to lead us, such as all the other nations have.” (I Samuel 8:6) Samuel knew this was a bad plan, but the Lord told him to grant their request, saying, “It is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their king.” (I Samuel 8:7)

In the rest of I Samuel 8, Samuel warns the Israelites about what would happen once they had a king to rule over them. Please read it yourself, but the gist is that he would tax them silly for his own projects and make slaves of them. Samuel warned, “When that day comes, you will cry out to the Lord for relief from the king you have chosen, and the Lord will not answer you in that day.” (I Samuel 8:18) But they didn’t heed the warning, and suffered the consequences, as the rest of the Old Testament records.

Of course, America is not a theocracy and there are many other differences between ancient Israel and the United States today. Yet there are parallels, and we would be wise to learn from Israel’s example. What happens in a nation’s spiritual life eventually works itself out in its political life. Israel rejected God. With that rejection, they lost their will and ability for self-government. They demanded an all-powerful king to rule over them and fight their battles for them.

Are we not doing exactly the same thing in America today? We have rejected God in our personal lives and in our public institutions. The resulting moral decline has left us slaves of our lusts, unable to govern ourselves, an ability that is the very foundation of a free society. Since nature abhors a vacuum, to the degree that we will not govern ourselves, we will be governed, by an increasingly stronger and more centralized authority. Another way to say it is that if the Messiah is not King internally, in our hearts, we will need an external king to control us. Like Israel in Samuel’s time, we clamor for such a savior-king to remove the effects of our sin, but not our sin.

We will either worship God or the state. We cannot be a godless nation and a free one. It’s time for us to humble ourselves for some national soul searching to decide whom we will serve, and so determine the future of our nation.

THE ONLY THING WE HAVE TO FEAR IS FEAR ITSELF

2008-09-26T17:08:00.002-04:00

The daily drumbeat of negative economic and geopolitical news over the last few months has taken its toll on the nation’s collective psyche. And now, we are told, our economy teeters on the brink of total collapse. Even the President has unceremoniously exclaimed, “This sucker is going down,” if Congress can’t agree on a federal mortgage bailout by the time markets open on Monday.

All of this is exceedingly troubling, but what is more troubling is our collective panic response. We have, I’m afraid, become a people who value security more than independence and who fear discomfort more than evil. At this moment in our history we would be wise to heed the words of FDR as he embarked upon his first presidency in the darkest hours of the Great Depression:

I am certain that my fellow Americans expect that on my induction into the Presidency I will address them with a candor and a decision which the present situation of our people impel. This is preeminently the time to speak the truth, the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Nor need we shrink from honestly facing conditions in our country today. This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.

We may disagree from the distance of some seventy-five years on whether the policies set forth later in his address were right or wrong. However, we must all agree that FDR was correct that our only real enemy is fear, because it is profoundly true that fear paralyzes and converts advance into retreat. Fear causes difficulties to loom larger than they are and make us feel small and impotent when we are not. It causes us to make short-sighted and wrong decisions. Fear is the enemy, and opposite, of faith, in God and in our own ability to find solutions and prevail when we humbly call on him and trust him to help us. Fear causes us to shrink back when we should run to the battle lines.

If the signers of the Declaration of Independence had yielded to fear, we would not have our republic today. It sounds cliché, but it is important to remember at times like these. In the face of almost certain defeat, they traded fear for courage, knowing they were risking, as we’ve heard from childhood, “their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor.” Perhaps we’ve heard this so often that we need to recapture just what that means. They understood that life—not just the money and material comfort that lay at risk for us today—was too small a price to pay for a free nation founded on the principles of self-government under God that they envisioned would become a beacon to lead the world from despotism to liberty.

This is our heritage of courage and their legacy to us. We have squandered that heritage. We have become fat and soft in the pursuit of comfort, materialism, and moral relativism and have forgotten what stern stock we spring from. But this would be a perfect time to remember who we are as Americans and set our hearts to reclaim the guts of our Forefathers, as FDR called Americans in his time to do.

Should our economy in fact collapse, it would be no more devastating than what the colonists and their leaders faced in 1776. We may well face this, and other hard times the likes of which have not been seen in our times. But if we will conquer fear and be calm and resolute in the face of each challenge, as FDR said, we will endure, revive, and prosper. Perhaps we need these trials to shake us out of our complacency and pettiness and remind us of what really matters in our personal and national life. May God help each of us and our leaders, and may God bless America.

TAKING LIGHT FROM THE DARKNESS

2008-07-21T13:54:00.003-04:00

My house is under contract and I am moving out one week from today. Some said it couldn’t be done, what with the down market and everything. It sold in just less than eight weeks, when there were 17 other comparable properties for sale on the two streets of my little subdivision. Some of those had been on the market for six months or more, and many had more features to offer than my place. After receiving no offers the entire time, I received two in one day. My realtor, a wise and mature Christian, said that was God’s way of saying, “It’s time for you to go now.” I give Him full credit, and much praise, for the sale.

Thus ends the Atlanta and post-mission field phase of my life and thus begins the move to Nashville and a new season of life. The last four years have probably been the most difficult of my life. Why that was true is the subject for another post. Today, however, is for thanking God and marveling over the light I am taking away with me from this dark time.

I have several friends who are also emerging from tough times, and we decided to do a mental and spiritual exercise while picking blueberries this past weekend. That was to review the life season now ending and list the eternal things God within us did during the dark time that are now indelibly stamped on our hearts, changing us forever. These will become the foundation for all we will be and accomplish in the next season.

Here are just a few of the items from my list:

1. I know now that God will never coddle my self-pity or unbelief, but as I rise above those temptations, he will always come through for me, in His way, in His timing.
2. I know now that I am strong. I may have wept and gotten depressed many times, but by God’s grace, I have walked an uncertain path that few would voluntarily walk and I am still standing. I am strong because God is faithful.
3. I know now that sometimes depending on God means depending on people. He has created us, not for dependence, but for interdependence, for give and take.
a. I’ve been humbled in that I feel I’ve been more on the taking end than the giving, but humility is a good thing. And the time will come when I’ll be the giver.
b. In people’s eagerness to provide for a myriad of my needs, I have seen the unstinting, giving heart of God.
c. My upbringing said, “Never trouble anyone for anything.” But this is only thinly disguised pride. I have learned to receive from others, and formed strong bonds of friendship in the process.
d. I have gained a greater compassion for the needs of others and better understand the value of timely and heartfelt encouragement.
4. I know that I could never doubt the existence of God. I suppose I could become self-deceived and somehow be convinced that God was mean or didn’t like us or some other untruth, but I could never be convinced that He is not there, because I have seen His presence and His acts so tangibly in my own life.

No matter what season of life you are in, I encourage you to try a similar exercise. You’ll be amazed at how far you have come and how great your God is.

Graduation Is the Fruit of Teamwork at Fideles Christian School

2008-05-27T13:45:00.001-04:00

On Saturday Fideles Christian School in Cumming, Georgia, graduated its first crop of seniors. Similar graduation ceremonies may have been taking place all across America that day, but for those parents, relatives and teachers who filled the Fideles auditorium Saturday morning, our ten graduates were the only ones in the world. Few young people are fortunate enough to have so many who have invested so much in their lives as those ten.

Indeed, these graduating seniors show what can be accomplished when like-minded people come together as a team in a common goal. First in this group are the parents who parented and home-schooled their children consciously and deliberately with the development of their character as well as their intellect in mind. Many of these parents also volunteered their blood, sweat and tears at the school for the sake of all the students. Partnering with them was a small, but dedicated group of teachers at Fideles who view their calling to students as one of discipleship, not just impartation of facts. They understand that learning to reason and to gain and apply wisdom from the facts is more important than simply memorizing the facts themselves. The work of Fideles parents and teachers was also ably under girded by a very dedicated administrative staff of similar vision who patiently and efficiently managed and balanced the unending demands of teachers, students and parents. And let us not forget the students themselves, who worked hard--often balancing academics with jobs, sports, church and other activities—to make it to graduation day.

This partnership would not have been possible, however, without the indefatigable leadership of Jonny and Ellen Whisenant, the founders and directors of the school. Giving up a more lucrative career a few short years ago, the Whisenants started Fideles with a clear vision and burning passion to build and send out young disciples into the world to carry righteousness, excellence and a better way into every area of our darkening culture. These unsung heroes have made enormous sacrifices for this goal with courage, faith, enthusiasm, patience, love and a healthy dose of good humor. It is their leadership that has pulled everyone’s efforts together to a common end. Fideles students, parents, administrators, and teachers all owe Jonny and Ellen a huge debt of gratitude.

For everyone who was involved, and for Jonny and Ellen in particular, Saturday was a sweet day. To hand out the diplomas to each graduate in his or her cap and gown at this first graduation ceremony must have brought them untold satisfaction and joy along with the knowledge that it has been worth it all. Who knows what world changers are among those ten graduates. Thank God for teams like the directors, parents, teachers, and administrators of Fideles Christian School who are willing to work together to help launch the next generation into their places in the world.

Congratulations, Fideles graduates! Go forth and conquer!

SPIDER SOLITAIRE: GOD CAN SPEAK THROUGH ANYTHING!

2008-05-04T23:07:00.001-04:00

About a year ago, I discovered Spider Solitaire on my computer and have played no other games since. I’ve made quite a habit (OK, it’s probably a psychological addiction) of playing a few games while listening to some good, worshipful music almost every night before I go to bed. In what has been a time of great uncertainty and even more financial stress, Spider Solitaire has been free therapy. Very effective, too. My hands are busy at the keyboard, but my mind is free to replay the day’s events or ponder the difficulties du jour—those which I can control and those I cannot. It helps me to sort things out in a relaxing context.

After playing a couple of losing games, however, my conscientious side exclaims, “What a waste of time! Shouldn’t you be grading papers, working on your book, scrubbing grout with a toothbrush, sleeping, (fill in the blank)?”

Next my philosophical and religious sides chime in, “There you go again, worshipping before the flat screen god. How shallow you are! Idolatrous, too. You should be reading your Bible.”

I generally agree with these pesky voices and would heed them, except that God so frequently speaks to me through this silly game. No, really.

Here’s how it happens. Maybe I’ve lost a few games and feel it’s high time I win one. I start a new one that I very much want to win. It starts well. I move cards hither and thither with all the strategy and skill I can muster and am several times rewarded with the gratifying click-click-click of a full suit folding. Progress! Hope! I can already taste victory. I make a few more good moves—click-click-click.

Then I get stuck. In the dark room, no doubt ghoulish looking in the screen’s bluish glare, I stare and study and steam until every possibility is exhausted. Then, annoyed and disappointed, just as I am about click this game off the screen and into some cyber-netherworld and go to bed, I suddenly spy one last move and grab it. This one turns out to be the move that opens the whole game. There it is—sweet victory!

This win gives me way more joy than a simple game should. Then I understand that is because the game is a metaphor for my life and its challenges. I think things are working out; then they don’t. I try everything I know to do to overcome a scary problem, but it remains. I don’t know what else to do, and want to shout, “God, where are you? What do you want from me?” But in my discovery of the move that opened the solitaire game for me is the voice of God exhorting me in his strong, but gentle way, “If you will just trust me, I will remove what holds back your own victory as well. You can’t see your next move, and you don’t know what to do, but I see the whole game strategy from beginning to end, and I will open the way for you if you will depend on my sight.” And then he gently chides, “Did you really think that I wouldn’t come through for you? Have I ever not come through for you?”

As his words pierce my heart, I despise my lack of faith. Then, in the background I hear the band Selah soulfully singing the old song “Faithful One”:

I find no hope within to call my own
For I am frail of heart, my strength is gone
But deep within my soul is rising up a song
Here in the comfort of the faithful one

I walk a narrow road through valleys deep
In search of higher ground, on mountains steep
And though with feet unsure, I still keep pressing on.
For I am guided by the faithful one.

Faithful, faithful to the end,
My true and precious friend,
You have been faithful,
Faithful, so faithful to me

I see your wounded hands, I touch your side
With thorns upon your brow you bled and died
But there’s an empty tomb, a love for all who come
And give their hearts to you, the faithful one.

Faithful, faithful to the end,
My true and precious friend,
You have been faithful,
Faithful, so faithful to me

And when the day is dawned and when the race is run
I will bow down before God’s only Son
And I will lift my hands in praise for all you’ve done
And I will worship you, my faithful one.

I draw strength and comfort from these simple, elegant words of truth and repent of my faithlessness toward my Faithful One. Then I shut down the computer, go to bed, and recount all the miracles He has done to get me through in my life so far as I drift off into a peaceful sleep.

Maybe you should play a little Spider Solitaire tonight.

What You Can Learn about Life from Selling Your House

2008-04-10T13:32:00.003-04:00

Buying a house is a lot more fun than selling one. When buying a house I get to be chauffeured from house to house in someone else’s car, envisioning how lovely I, my things, and my life will be in each one. Ah, suddenly there I am in my fuzzy robe, curled up with my Bible and morning coffee in that cozy den. A glance at one lush and green backyard, and my dog and I are playing fetch together there amid the cheerful tunes of singing birds on a sunny afternoon. I envision guests sleeping peacefully in that spacious guest room or sitting at the expansive bar with glasses of wine, laughing and chatting while I whip up a delicious dinner in the updated kitchen. Oh yes, buying is fun.

Looking at houses to buy also gets me a boatload of free decorating DOs and DON’Ts. The good ones I mentally file for later use. The bad ones allow me to utter catty comments with impunity about ugly colors and tacky furnishings, which is somehow cathartic for me. Go figure. Buying is indeed more fun than selling.

Now, however, I am selling my own house. Now it’s my turn to clean up, clean out and stage. How well I do that will determine whether my home becomes the source of someone’s daydreams (and sells) or of their catty comments (and doesn’t sell). The tables have turned, and now I fight off panic.

It started with that representative from the architectural committee of the homeowners’ association who came over to approve stain colors for my fence.

“It’s a terrible time to sell!” she reminds me. “You’ll probably lose a lot of money.”

Great.

Next comes the realtor.

“The market really isn’t that bad,” she assures me. “In fact, with a little luck, you may even break even. Now, here are your top seventeen competitors in the neighborhood. . . .”

I feel better already. NOT.

Then comes the stager. This is the person who tells you everything you need to change or get rid of to make your home attractive to buyers. For most mere mortals, the stager’s visit would be a source of anxiety. Not for me. I watch HGTV’s Designed to Sell at least three times a week. I know the drill: get rid of all the personal photos and chotchke, clear off all surfaces, de-clutter, remove excess furniture, yada, yada, yada.

So, for three days of my spring break I packed, cleaned, rearranged, and ruthlessly rid myself of all that was unnecessary, while generous friends painted some rooms. Then, aching and exhausted, I sit back to admire my streamlined home, smugly thinking how impressed the stager will be on the morrow.

The appointed time arrives. In walks the stager and glances around the room. “The first thing you’ll want to do,” she says, “is de-clutter.”

I smile and nod, but inside I’m screaming, “what? de-clutter? what do you think i’ve been doing here for the past three days, anYway?”

It went downhill from there. She told me I need to thoroughly clean some things. Imagine, suggesting that I don’t keep my house clean! Didn’t I just clean those dusty blinds, uh, a year ago? Later, she sent me an eleven-page list of things to do to get my house ready to sell. Eleven pages. She did soften the blow by saying that I have a lovely home on a lovely street. She probably says that to everyone, but it still made me feel better.

To add insult to injury, as the stager was leaving, she suddenly looked down at the outside wall near the front door. I followed her gaze and saw what she saw—TERMITES! In that weak moment of panic I thought to myself, “what’s next? a plague of locusts?”

Later that day, after praying a lot, I regained my perspective and sense of humor about it all. While buying a house is much more fun than selling one, selling gives us a chance to evaluate, clean out, and get a clearer view of our homes through a fresh, objective set of eyes. What happens in our houses is so similar to what happens in our own hearts and souls. Over time, junk and dust can accumulate there, but living in the midst of it, we can’t see it. This stuff can range from excess baggage we simply don’t need to carry that weighs us down, such as taking on false responsibility for someone else’s life, to truly toxic attitudes and thought patterns that threaten the health of our souls, like unforgiveness.

Good clues that we need some personal de-cluttering may be that sense that we’re in a rut, a lack of joy and peace, heaviness or depression, or a lack of forward momentum in life. Periodically, it’s helpful to invite a trusted friend or pastor to help us see what we cannot see for ourselves. Most of us are like my home as described by the stager: lovely, but in need of some basic cleaning and de-cluttering. Having the courage to hear an honest friend’s evaluation of our lives can help us to spiritually de-clutter and lighten our load.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go talk with the exterminator.

UNITY: Deeper than "Can't We All Just Get Along?"

2008-04-01T23:05:00.004-04:00

Wow. I just picked up an old notebook to look for a phone number and unearthed a treasure trove of notes about how we forge Christian unity and illustrates what it really is. There is no date on them and I can't tell whether they were from a book or sermon, or whether they came out of my own pure brain. Whatever, the ideas are so good that I wanted to share them with you, dear reader. I'll just list them as bullet points as they are in my notebook, and then perhaps make some comments.

Unity can only be forged in the furnace of affliction, in the clash of conflict and the muck of misunderstanding.
Unity grows out of covenant. First, there must be a decision to be committed to it, no matter what the cost.
Unity grows and takes shape each time we:

Determine to think the best of and trust the motives of someone who has hurt us.
Clash head on in disagreement, but talk and pray through to understanding and agreement.
Risk conflict to speak the truth in love
Receive correction, regardless of how it is delivered, choosing to hear the voice of the Holy Spirit and not the voice of the speaker.
Rejoice with those who seem to be more blessed than we are.
Accept the faults of those God with whom God has put us in relationship, even when they affect us personally, without judging them, knowing that we have equally grievous faults, just different ones.
Refuse to take up the offenses of others.
Refuse to judge people or situations until all the facts are known (believing the best and reminding ourselves that one is innocent until proven guilty).
Believe what God's Word says about a brother or sister as we believe it for ourselves, even when apparent evidence contradicts.

Every time we do these things, it makes an indelible stamp on our character and we are forever changed a bit more into the image of Christ, who prayed that we might all be one as He and the Father are one, that the world might believe (John 17:20-23).

I don't think I'll make any comments. What else could I say?

LAUGH MORE, LOVE MORE, AND DON'T BE SO AFRAID

2008-03-08T14:32:00.004-05:00

If you want to see an uplifting movie that will both inspire and challenge you to consider the way you’re living your life, try Last Holiday. No, this is not a movie review; however, there are some great thoughts to take from this lighthearted romantic comedy.

This film is about a sweet but mousy department store clerk, Georgia Byrd, who lives frugally, dutifully and uneventfully, her many dreams alive only in her “possibilities book”, a scrapbook filled with photos of foods she’d like to prepare in the restaurant she dreams of owning, places she longs to visit, and the man she wants to marry. All that changes when a CT-scan reveals lesions in her brain and her doctors reveal that she has only three weeks left to live. Georgia cashes in her entire life savings, then flies out for a whirlwind vacation to her dream destination, a luxury spa hotel in Karlovy Vary, Czech Republic. Of course, she has amazing adventures and meets intriguing people there. But as her life begins to draw to a close on New Year’s Eve, she arrives at one conclusion as she reflects on her life. Gazing at herself in the mirror in her elegant hotel suite, she says to her reflection, “Next time we’ll do things different. Next time, we’ll laugh more, love more, we’ll see the world! We just won’t be so afraid.”

These words arrested me the first time I saw the film. I had to ask myself just how much I have let fear hold me back from really living my life at the level God intended. This is a good question for all of us to ask ourselves. Most of us would not consider ourselves to be fearful, yet we have deceptively subtle forms of fear lurking just beneath the radar in our hearts and minds. Perhaps you don’t have panic attacks, for example, but maybe a nagging fear of failure prevents you from taking risks that could bring you into the fullness of God’s good and gracious plan for your life. Or maybe your particular bugaboo takes another form: fear of success, responsibility, intimacy, humiliation, flying, speaking in public, death, ad infinitum.

These and many more are part of our enemy’s arsenal of weapons and tactics to “kill, steal, and destroy”; yet we know that Jesus said, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” (John 10:10) A life that is lived fully cannot be lived timidly. It must be lived with an abandon that is not risk averse.

You may say, “But we need to live wisely and in obedience to God!”

Indeed, we do. However, in my own life, I have found that God’s wisdom is often contrary to conventional human wisdom, and that obedience requires climbing out onto a high and scary ledge more often than sticking to the safe and secure. This is because life is meant to be lived by faith, above the clamoring voices of our five senses shouting, “Be reasonable!”

Living the safe life, like the old Georgia Byrd, requires no faith, no trust in God. Obedience, however, may require us to do some crazy things, like the new Georgia Byrd in Karlovy Vary, going base jumping when the others prefer bus tours. If we always choose the secure, the expected, and the reasonable, we will get the safe, the predictable and the mundane. On the other hand, if we choose faith, we courageously put ourselves in place to receive the fullness and exhilaration of a life walked in tandem with God as He promised, and He gets the glory.

Believers everywhere are speaking of 2008 as the year of new beginnings in God. Many are transitioning into new phases of life and ministry, launching into unknown territory. It’s an exciting, but scary time for many. Add to that the troubled times in which we are living. If ever there was a time to embrace courage and to tackle and rise above fear in our lives, it is now.

The good news is that never has God been more available to us if we will call upon His help. He knows exactly what each of us needs to successfully take the next step into His plans for our lives. It’s as if He is stirring the waters again at the Pool of Bethesda and all we have to do to be healed is to dare to step into the churning waters.

If you need some help in this direction, watch Last Holiday for some inspiration and a challenge, then ask God to show you and to free you from any areas of fear that are holding you back from His best for you. Then take a walk on the wild side. You’ll be free to laugh more, love more, and not be so afraid.

By the way, Georgia doesn’t die and she gets her man in the end!

My Hope For the Future of America

2008-02-06T22:35:00.000-05:00

Recently one of the news channels did an informal survey on a college campus to get a read on how much students value their right to vote. The results made me want to throw myself on the floor and wail. Actually, I think I did. They expressed a lot of apathy about voting, but here's the kicker: More than one student--with a straight face and on national TV--indicated that he would be willing to give up his right to vote, not just in this election, but for all time. . .for a new I-pod. For a new I-pod. No, I'm not kidding.

My black despair over this state of affairs was short-lived, however, once I remembered my American government class at Fideles Christian School in Cumming, Georgia. This group of twelve 12th graders has given me hope for America's future more than once, but never more than in their attitude toward their own right to vote. Those among them who will be 18 years old in time to vote are ecstatic about it. Those who won't be old enough are dashed.

For example, Jared, who will turn 18 just a few days after the general election, was so disappointed about missing his chance to vote that his mother told him that he could decide her vote if he would study the candidates and make a well-informed decision. He has poured over news reports and candidates' websites until he knows more about them than any five adults I know. Amanda, the sole 11th grader in the class, has a deeper understanding of national issues than most adults. Mark, who isn't even in my class, still drops by and chimes in when we have Friday political and current events discussions. When I walked into class on Super Tuesday, the first question was, "Who did you vote for, Ms. Thraves?"

Every one of these young people really care about the future of our nation and understand and value the role that voting plays in determining that future. For them it is a right of passage into adulthood, but even more, into American citizenship, which they know enough to cherish.

On Tuesday, their graduation caps and gowns arrived. They were all trying them on, trying to figure out how the mortar board goes, and taking pictures. In the midst of that hubbub, the reality of graduation dawned on some of them, and with eyes like deer in headlights, several muttered, "This is scary." They may be scared, but I am not scared for them. In fact, I rejoice that they are about to be unleashed on the world. For I know that, by the grace of God, they will do it only good. They, and young people like them across the country, are my hope for the future of these United States.

WHERE HAVE ALL THE MANNERS GONE?

2008-01-21T20:17:00.000-05:00

A Call to Courtesy

There is something I just have to get off my chest. This morning my out-of-town guest marveled that I cooked breakfast for her as if I’d served up the world on a platter. Not long ago someone told me that she doesn’t write thank-you notes because she doesn’t have time. My recent revelation to a few friends that I routinely iron the pillowcases when I have overnight guests was met with slack-jawed expressions of shock and awe. At recent showers I’ve attended, we were all given envelopes to address our own thank-you notes for our gifts so that the new mother wouldn’t have to do it.

Gentle reader, do you see the same disturbing trend that I see in these things? Is it possible that we, as a society, have become so busy with God-only-knows-what that we don’t have time to extend common courtesy to our fellow man? I fear that this uncommon-ness of common courtesy is just one more growing component of the general coarsening of our culture

You know, when I was a kid, my mother harped on manners until I wanted to throw up. Christmas thank-you notes were sent out on 12/26, and I was made to write them as soon as I learned to write. My left hand had to be on my lap my lap at dinner, no elbows on the table, no slurping of soup, flatware was used from the outside in--and above all, no licking of that drip on the edge of the ketchup bottle. I was taught to look adults in the eye and to answer them directly when spoken to, and to say, “Yes,” and not “Yeah.” Then we moved to the South and I learned to say, “Yes, ma’am,” and “Yes, sir,” of course. Later, I learned how to sit (ankles crossed), how to walk (like I had a book on my head), how to make proper introductions, and how to dress appropriately for every occasion. I could go on and on, but you get the picture.

I am eternally grateful for that childhood training now, but at the time, I missed the point of it all. That is, I was left with the impression that courtesy was just a set of rules made up by bridge-playing, country club women wearing hats and gloves, who, while eating petit fours between hands, dreamed them up as a means of torture for their children. I thought, and to some degree was taught, that the point of manners was to appear well-bred, and even more importantly, not to embarrass my parents.

While these may have been at least semi-noble goals for a child, they were off the mark in the bigger picture. I was never actually taught that the real reason for manners is to honor and show respect for other people. Rather than making us look good, courtesy is for making people around us feel comfortable, welcome, respected, or whatever good purpose the occasion calls for.

Maybe this is why it is so troubling to see our culture drift away from basic acts of common courtesy. It’s a subtle indicator that we are not caring for each other as we should and perhaps becoming more self-centered. It says that what is most important is MY time and MY convenience, not the other person and his or her feelings, time or convenience. However, this way of life is not going to create the kind of world that any of us want to live in. Instead, this attitude will give us a dry, utilitarian world where there is no time for niceties and one’s highest goal becomes checking the next item off his to-do list. It could even take us down the dark path to a world like the one the Soviets created, where, for example, people hurried past each other on the street with eyes averted and aggressively pushed in front of each other in bus or store lines.

This, however, is not the American Way. Why not make a tiny bit of extra effort for someone else? If being served bacon and eggs makes a good friend feel “like a queen,” as she said, in my home, why should I not do it? If sending a heartfelt thank-you to someone—that I’ve written and addressed myself--lets her know I appreciated her gift and brightens her day, why would I hesitate? If sleeping on smooth, freshly ironed pillowcases might make my guest a little more comfortable and feel just a little bit pampered, isn’t it worth the 15 minutes it takes to do it? It’s little things like these that add texture and dimension to our daily lives and create a richer, lovelier environment.

With so much rudeness and crudeness in the world around us, why not lift the standard a little higher once again? If enough of us do it, we just might change the tenor of our times and get our civility back.

FOR EVERYTHING THERE IS A SEASON

2008-01-14T17:52:00.000-05:00

Last night marked the end of an era. It was the final meeting of that small group of women I wrote about here a few months ago (see “How Good and Pleasant It Is” from 9/12/07) who have been getting together in my home twice a month over the past year. During that time, we’ve shared food and fun, wine and worship, prayer and punditry, comedy and crises, you name it. In the process we have all seen how friendship was designed to work. Each of us has been enriched and changed for the better by the experience.

You may ask, “If this group is so wonderful, why are you quitting?” Well, because times change, and lives change. One beloved member of our group moved away. Another will probably soon be moving far away. Another is getting married. The rest of us are all experiencing major changes of direction or focus in our lives. All of us have a sense of being launched into something new with new priorities, demands and constraints. With that, we all know that our group has served its purpose of preparing each of us for our launch—spiritually, emotionally and mentally.

Significantly, none of us were, to borrow a phrase from Shakespeare, “out of measure sad” to say good-bye to our Sunday night gatherings. Of course, we were sentimental about it and poignantly aware of what a rare and precious thing was passing. But we also felt celebratory, much as one would at a graduation. Although we won’t see as much of each other, we also know that we are taking away solid friendships that will last forever.

Even more, though, each of us is fortunate enough to understand a couple of life’s great truths that are sometimes not understood. One is that life, like each year, is made up of seasons that change just as surely as spring follows winter. There are planting seasons, harvest seasons, dormant seasons and seasons of rebirth. Each has its specific purpose, but none is random. God will surely accomplish His purpose in each season before leading us into the next.

The second truth is that we must let go of the old before we can take hold of the new. If we try to cling to what is passing, we can’t successfully make the transition to the new season and our next step forward. It would be like summer leaves refusing to change color for fall, or fall leaves clinging to their branches and refusing to let winter come.

If we’re tuned in to the voice and movements of God in our lives, we will sense the change of season coming, just like we sense the coming of spring in a fresh March breeze, even when snow still covers the ground. He gives us lead time to adjust to the idea of change. There is a lot of joy in learning to embrace and enjoy each season, but to know when its time to let go in order to take hold of the next one.

For our little group, the season is changing and we all know it. In the old season, the Lord knit our hearts together in unity and allowed us to draw from one another during tough times. But He has used what we have gleaned from one another to prepare us for very different futures in the new season. We celebrate the new thing that God has for each of us and will be cheering each other on every step of the way. We also have a great reunion to look forward to next summer. Our friend who got engaged at Christmas asked the whole group to be her bridesmaids!

CHRISTMAS VIGNETTES: Christmas at Thraves Jewelers

2008-01-09T18:36:00.000-05:00

NOTE: I know this is late, but consider it a jump on next year.

There’s no Christmas like a small town Christmas. A sparkling Harrod’s in London or skaters at Rockefeller Center in New York are wonderful, but for warmth and comforting tradition, you just can’t beat small town America. That’s why I love spending Christmas Eve helping out down at my brother Bill’s jewelry store in Seneca, South Carolina, which he has owned for some 35 years. Every year that I’ve been stateside during those years, I’ve been there wrapping gifts, answering the phone, making bank runs, and helping host the annual drop-in that Bill and his wife, Phyllis, hold for customers and friends in the store’s stock room. Since radical change has been the only predictable feature of my life, it’s become a wonderful tradition for me to come to the jewelry store on Christmas Eve, where the ritual and cast of characters never change. Here is how it goes every year.

By the time the doors open for business at 10:00 a.m., Bill has already carved the huge ham that he has cooked overnight at home and has set up the well-stocked bar in his personal office. Phyllis has set up the rest of the party food around the sales floor and stock room. Then she cleans the bathroom on her hands and knees, in spite of beautiful clothes and perfectly manicured nails, while grousing that no one ever remembers to take out the trash. Finally, she sneaks out to the Booksmith, a few doors down, and grabs a cup of White Christmas coffee and a few last-minute gifts before diving into the day’s sales rush, where she really shines. Janie, the store manager, is always there on Christmas Eve, even though she could probably beg off due to seniority. She’s been with the store since the beginning 35 years ago, and says she’ll stay as long as Bill does. She’s practically a member of the family.

Once the doors open, a cheerful chaos rules for the rest of the day. The aroma of sausage dip wafts through the store from a crock pot and canned Christmas music mixes with the constant electronic “ding-dong, ding-dong” that announces incoming customers. Last-minute shoppers come in waves. I’m the main gift wrapper, but the purchasing rush often finds several of us stumbling over each other for bows, paper and scotch tape while trying not to mix up the gifts. (After all, it would be a disaster if Mr. Smith's wife got Mrs. Jones' sterling earrings instead of the two-carat diamond ring he bought for her!) While rapid wrapping, ringing up of purchases, and chat with garrulous customers is going on, gazillions of kids, grandkids, nieces and nephews are running back and forth through the small swinging door between the work area and the sales floor. In the back, older relatives and friends are noshing on ham and homemade fudge amongst stacks of UPS supplies, bow making machines and tall shelves covered with every conceivable size jewelry gift box. They chat with Adam, the jeweler, who is working diligently at his bench to finish work promised by Christmas, and who is no doubt grateful to be removed from the fray up front. Pretty much anything goes at the store on Christmas Eve; however, neither all this confusion, nor having the public in his, well, less-than-elegant stockroom seems to bother Bill in the least. This is a man with more patience than Job and a heart as big as Texas.

Later, neighboring merchants steal away from their own shops during a lull to have a ham sandwich, offer Christmas greetings, and drop off gifts for Bill and Phyllis. Fellow Rotarians, wine-tasting club and sailing club friends, tennis and golf buddies, neighbors, everyone comes by. Tom, Bill’s jovial roommate from their bachelor days, always drives the 30 miles over from Easley and hangs out for hours in the stock room, availing himself of the bar and chatting up everyone. Janie’s husband, Jerry, saunters in about mid-afternoon for a drink, and everyone's out-of-town relatives start arriving. Phyllis's mother, Ruth, has become a traditional fixture on Christmas Eve as well, perched on the old sofa in the back, greeting visitors.

Finally, like clockwork, every year around 30 minutes before closing at 6:00 p.m., Fred (name has been changed to protect the guilty), usually in shorts and flip flops regardless of the weather and looking like he just got off a plane from Key West, comes in to buy a big ticket item for his wife. Major acquisition or not, he shops like a man--no agonizing, snap decision. He’s generally walking out the door with his attractively gift wrapped selection right at closing time. Then the front door is quickly locked and everyone utters a sigh of relief at the end of a pleasant, but tiring day. The staff pitches in to complete the day’s end routine quickly and they all rush out the door to their own families after final hugs, all yelling, “Merry Christmas!”

It’s not over yet for Bill and Phyllis, however. This is when they do their own Christmas shopping and wrapping in the store before heading off to the first of the various family celebrations. They are inevitably and invariably late for this first event. No one minds, though, especially the ladies, because they all know that Bill and Phyllis are selecting and wrapping their gifts of jewelry. Who would argue with that? Many of them have stopped by during the day to drop hints with me or the staff, or to be casually queried by Bill or Phyllis, “See anything you like?”

Finally, around 8:30 p.m., weary and with aching feet and backs, gifts and food loaded into the car, Bill, Phyllis and I lock up and head to the first Christmas event. Of course, Bill forgets someone's gift and has to come back. But that’s just part of the tradition of our small town Christmas.

CHRISTMAS VIGNETTES: First Christmas on the Mission Field - Part II

2007-12-26T00:35:00.000-05:00

There I was finishing up my first year on the mission field in Latvia, and it was Christmastime. If you read Part I, you learned that Christmas hadn’t really caught on yet in newly independent Latvia in 1994, and that they barely had street lights, much less Christmas lights. But that was about to change, at least at my house.

I lived in a big, old house in the Baltic seaside resort town of Jurmala, Latvia, which my roommates and I affectionately called the Gray Box, because that’s exactly what it looked like. My roommates there included Mary, a fellow American missionary; Joy, a Filipina missionary; and Asya, a Russian student who attended our church.

Neither Joy and nor I had ever been away from home and family for Christmas, and neither of us was thrilled about that. Mary was accustomed to being away from home and Asya had never celebrated Christmas before and didn’t know what she was missing. But Joy and I both loved traditions and magic of the Christmas season as it is celebrated in both the U.S. and the Philippines and were longing for home and the familiar Christmas joys. Joy was drowning in self-pity and at first spent a good deal of time sighing, moping and whining. I, on the other hand, had anticipated this scenario and had determined in advance that we would make the proverbial lemonade out of our lemons. This Christmas abroad would be what we made of it. It would be different from what we were used to, but it could be wonderful. And here was an opportunity to introduce our newly Christian friends to all the joys of celebrating the birth of our Savior. There was every reason for joy. We just needed a plan and a little resourcefulness. Joy and I decided to buck up and began planning a traditional Christmas dinner, or as traditional as available materials and our lack of a real kitchen would allow. We would invite all the single missionaries and whomever else we could get to come from among our local friends.

I had brought from home a couple of strings of lights and a transformer along with a few favorite Christmas ornaments. We also found some Christmas decorations for sale at a local children’s clothing store (go figure) and bought those. I found a spindly, Charlie Brown-type tree at a farmer’s market a week before Christmas for about two dollars and we set it up in the “dining room”, which was empty except for our rickety dining table and 6 wooden chairs. But this room did have a big picture window where we placed the tree, with its colored lights, for all to see. We hoped that it would bring unexpected cheer to the dark and dreary winter days of passersby, and maybe stir some distant memory of a celebration of the Christ Child.

We planned our Christmas dinner for Christmas Eve night. A young Lithuanian family and their Bassett Hound who had been driving up from Vilnius and staying with us several weekends a month happened to be coming to town, so we happily added them to our guest list. That night, we ended up with two Americans, three Filipinos, one Russian, four Lithuanians, and one Russian Jew who had recently believed in Jesus as Messiah crowded around our table. Some spoke English, some didn’t. Thank God, one was a translator.

That night, the Lithuanians presented me with a fabulously beautiful and unique hand-knit sweater, which easily must have cost them a month's salary. The gift was to thank me for hosting all of them in our home so many times and for the many very late nights spent with them around the table talking about God, the Bible and life's issues. It was quite overwhelming and really added to the specialness of the evening. We also made a cassette recording of our dinner conversation. I had lost track of that cassette until I unpacked the personal belongings that I only recently had shipped back from Latvia.

Joy and I had done everything possible to bring the Christmas spirit into the house through lights, decorations and Christmas music, but more importantly through prayer and the pure and unadulterated joy of the Lord. We wanted Christmas magic for our guests who had never known the pleasure of celebrating it. They came looking for a new cultural experience. In the end, however, we all had a wonderful spiritual experience as God broke down every conceivable barrier between us, national, cultural or linguistic. Our evening together was everything Joy and I dreamed it would be with rich fellowship, God’s presence among us, laughter, good food, high spirits, warmth, love and joy—everything that Christmas is made of, even snow. We all basked in the afterglow of it for a long time.

Time prevents me from sharing more detail about our first Christmas in Latvia. However, even though those present at our table that night now live on three different continents, every one of us treasures the memory of that night. The Russians and Lithuanians went on to establish their own Christmas traditions. Joy and I learned that no sacrifice we are called to make in the service of the Lord ever goes uncompensated. Of course, we missed our families and homes, but we lacked nothing in the true spirit of Christmas. It really was a very merry Christmas.

Christmas Vignettes: First Christmas on the Mission Field - Part I

2007-12-17T12:39:00.000-05:00

It was Christmas 1994, and it was that time in life that we all know will eventually come, but most of us avoid as long as possible—the first Christmas away from home and family. I had managed to hold that day at bay for 40 years, but now my time was up. This Christmas found me in Latvia, 8,000 miles, one ocean and one continent away from my family in South Carolina. I was nearing the end of my first year on the mission field there. To help you understand the setting of this story, I need to tell you a little bit about Latvia at that time.

Latvia is a small republic that had been independent from the Soviet Union for less than three years. For the previous 50 years, the atheistic Soviet Grinch had stolen Christmas, forbidding all public celebrations, and replaced it with New Year’s celebrations that included “New Year’s trees” and New Year’s gift giving. Although Christmas celebrations in the newly independent Latvia where no longer forbidden, western style decorating and celebration had yet to catch on. So, while back home the magical lights and colors of Christmas glittered and gleamed and holiday cheer overtook everyone, in Latvia, everything remained dark and cheerless.

And I do mean dark. Latvia was so poor without its former Soviet subsidies and before the market economy kicked in that the city didn’t even turn on street lights at night. To go out at night without a flashlight was to take one’s life into one’s own hands, as sidewalks were plagued by tree roots, missing pavers and uncovered manholes, so tripping or even disappearing beneath the sidewalk was a constant threat. At home, families only turned on one light in just the room they were in. In apartment buildings, stair wells and elevators were usually completely dark, because as soon as someone put in a light bulb in such a public area, someone else would steal it. Add to this below-freezing temperatures and less than eight hours of pale winter sunlight a day. It was very scary, cold and definitely not conducive to a “Merry Christmas.”

Then, for a foreigner like me, there was the problem of procuring a “Christmas tree.” As I said, there were “New Year’s trees”, but these generally did not go on sale until about December 27. This was great if you wanted to celebrate Russian Christmas on January 6. For us foreigners and Latvian Lutherans who like Christmas on December 25, however, that was a problem. You could find one if you looked hard enough, though. Also, there were no full and lovely trees from a Christmas tree farm, genetically engineered for a perfect shape. In a country covered by forests, you wouldn’t think there would be a problem with nice trees, though. Think again. These were spindly sticks that looked like Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree. The good news, though, was that you could buy them for about two dollars.

All I’ve mentioned so far are only the superficial things, however. Saddest of all was that no one among my local acquaintances, even those who were new Christians and members of our church, had ever celebrated Christmas before. My missionary colleagues and I decided we were going to change that. And that’s where Part II will begin.

Christmas Vignettes: Christmas In Coronary Care

2007-12-08T15:01:00.000-05:00

It started out in every way a normal Christmas, back in those days 25 years or so ago when there was such a thing as normal. Mom and Dad, my brother Bill and I lived in three different cities in the state, but we always spent Christmas at Bill’s house because he was, and still is, a retailer and always had to be open until late on Christmas Eve. So we were all there on this Christmas Eve.

We had shared a big breakfast and afterwards I went to take a shower to get ready to go to Bill’s jewelry store to help out on what promised to be a very busy day. I was looking forward to the day, and also to the arrival of my best friend, Phyllis, who was driving up to spend the holiday with us after she got off work that afternoon. When I had finished getting ready, I went back into the kitchen to find no one there except my nephew, Tyler.

“Where is everybody?” I asked. “They’ve all gone to the hospital,” he replied, “Your mother’s had a heart attack.” I was in a state of utter disbelief. She had never had heart trouble before. How could this be happening? Disbelief quickly gave way to fear and then to a harsh sense of the cruel irony that this should be happening at Christmas. I don’t remember anything else about that day, except the great comfort of Phyllis’s arrival in the evening. She happened to be a cardiac nurse and is one of those take-charge individuals that you love to have on hand in a crisis.

Christmas afternoon the doctors gave us permission to see Mom and to bring a few of her gifts up to the hospital, as long as we didn’t stay long. Bill put on a Santa Claus suit, although to this day I have no idea where he got it. Phyllis and I, who always loved to sing harmony together, sang some Christmas carols for Mom, which delighted her no end.

After a couple of rounds of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”, a nurse came in, and we fell silent, assuming she was going to ask us to be quiet. Instead, she said that there was a very elderly stroke patient a couple of doors down who was unable to speak or move, but who had heard us and wanted us to sing for him. Would we come? We went straightaway, followed by Santa Bill, doing his most convincing, “HO, HO, HO!” We sang “Silent Night” for that old gentleman, and as we sang, a single tear fell from the corner of his eye. I will never forget that moment.

In the end, we traveled up and down the whole ICU singing to the patients with Bill “ho-ho-ho-ing” along with us. Bill doesn’t remember donning the Santa suit, but I have a faded Polaroid photo that proves it. That Christmas turned out to be one of the very best ever. Mom made a full recovery and was with us every Christmas until her last one in 2005.

What a joy it was to bring a little light into a place of sickness and sadness on Christmas Day. It just goes to show what we all know, but so easily forget in this over-the-top, materialistic age, that simple things done for others are the best and most important.

COURAGE AND FAITH!

2007-11-05T12:43:00.000-05:00

Have you ever seen the movie, Room with a View? To appreciate this film requires a sense of humor of a certain type, but it is one of my all-time favorites. It’s rich with those lines that become favorite quotes, including one that has become my motto for life right now. It’s a romantic comedy (of course!) based on the 1908 E. M. Forster novel of the same name. Amazon.com describes it much too seriously as “a study of repression within the British class system of manners and mores.” It is a young Edwardian woman named Lucy Honeychurch, traveling in Italy with her stuffed-shirt aunt and chaperone, Miss Bartlett, whose romantic inclinations are suffering such repression, but not for long.

Anyway, there is one rather silly scene from which I have managed to manufacture a drop of deep meaning for our times, so you must hear about it. In this scene, Miss Honeychurch and Miss Bartlett have traveled out of Florence into the lovely Italian countryside with some other tourists for a picnic. They are traveling in open carriages, and afterwards on the way back to their pensione, a fierce thunderstorm overtakes their party. As rain pours and lightening flashes around them, a frightened Miss Bartlett and Miss Honeychurch huddle together for comfort in their carriage. Sitting opposite them is Mr. Eager, the pompous local Anglican rector, who attempts to encourage Lucy as follows:

“Courage, Miss Honeychurch, courage and faith! Do you suppose that all this immense electrical display is called into existence just to extinguish you or me? Even from a scientific standpoint, the chances against our being struck are enormous. The steel picnic knives, the only articles which might attract the current, are in the other carriage.”

Does life feel this way for you right now? I think for many of us it does, especially for those who are currently launching new businesses, ministries, or who are undergoing massive life change of any type. We feel like we ARE the steel picnic knives, exposed in the midst of a raging storm and constantly assured by our enemy that we are targeted for destruction. And sometimes are comforters don’t do much better than Mr. Eager!

But it is the word of the Lord and not the word of the enemy that counts. His word to us in this hour is, “Courage and faith!” Faith feeds trust in the Lord, while courage is the engine that keeps us moving doggedly forward on the path He’s called us to, regardless of what is flying around us to frighten, discourage and distract. Courage also breeds resolve, that powerful quality on which every war in history has been won or lost. And with our courage, faith and resolve, we need a healthy dose of good humor to keep our struggles in perspective and not take ourselves too seriously. After all, “This, too, shall pass.” And we have the same encouragement God gave to Joshua as he was about to lead Israel in to the Promised Land: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

Giving Honor To Whom Honor Is Due

2007-10-15T11:58:00.000-04:00

I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately to the everyday heroes in my life. Perhaps God has opened my eyes to see the worth of these individuals to keep me from despairing over the burgeoning number of ignoble people whose actions I see trumpeted on the news constantly. Maybe there are actually more bad guys these days, or maybe it’s just a phenomenon of 24-hour news. Regardless, day after day news broadcasts dish up politicians who dodge and weave around accusations of sexual or financial scandal and celebrity “pop tarts” and the misdeeds of their out-of-control, debauched lives. We see our national leaders, like chameleons, change their policies and promises with public opinion and wage war against each other instead of our common problems. Reports of school shootings and child abductions make us wonder if our kids are safe anywhere. It all gives us a gnawing sense that our nation is sinking into its own “Dark Ages.”

Yet while all this is going on, there are honorable individuals who plod unnoticed through their daily lives, doggedly working to make the world a better place as they go. Those I’m speaking of appear to be average people, but they are not, for they serve a purpose bigger than themselves. They live by rock-solid convictions and not the whim or appetite or fashion of the moment. They are not motivated by money or recognition, but by a desire to do what is right and constructive. With a vision of a more just, righteous and enlightened world, they sow their very lives into pursuits that will probably never make them rich or famous, but will pass that vision on to the next generation and give them the tools to live it out. They live with eternity in view. These are the true heroes, and that’s not just a euphemism to make ordinary people feel better about themselves. It’s actually true.

High on this list of heroes are home school mothers who daily trade material gain and more glamorous careers in the bigger world to build children strong in character, wisdom and knowledge, who will become worthy citizens in a nation that sorely needs men and women of character. Add to the list those husbands who remain faithful to their wives in this sex-crazed culture where every temptation is readily available for the taking, because they love their wives and children more than that. Or it might be those husbands and working wives who sacrifice promotions and the accompanying material benefits if that will mean more time at home to enjoy and engage with their kids. Think of scientific researchers who work year in and year out, hidden from the public eye, to find cures for cancer and other diseases. We should even include that young person who takes their first job at McDonald’s or Wal-Mart who takes pride in his or her work and does the job with excellence and a desire to serve people.

I could go on and on. However, as I’ve been pondering all these thoughts, I came across a teaching by a minister who posed the following question: Do you currently owe a debt of honor to anyone? Do you need to show favor to anyone? My answer is emphatically, “Yes.” My life is full of such unsung heroes, and I want to use this forum to honor some of them in the next few days. In the meantime, I encourage you to consider the heroes that touch your life and to thank them for what they do. You have no idea what this could mean to someone. I remember once when I lived in Latvia, a fellow missionary told me that she and a couple of Latvian friends went to the local police station and thanked the officers there for the job they do. They wept. Let’s give honor where honor is due. In a world that has confused celebrity with greatness, it’s up to us who know the difference to thank those who deserve our thanks.

The Story of My Fifty-Third Birthday

2007-10-01T12:52:00.000-04:00

September 19, 2007, was my fifty-third birthday. The day had a somewhat scary and lonely beginning and a rich and happy ending, with the metamorphosis and attending lessons provided by God.

The day was preceded by a wonderful, uplifting weekend at a C.S. Lewis Institute conference at Belmont University in Nashville, which is important to mention because it provides the backdrop for what happened on my birthday. A speaker there urged us to read G. K. Chesterton’s The Everlasting Man, which I eagerly placed on my mental “to purchase” list. Remember this title. Also recommended, naturally, were a number of C.S. Lewis books, which I also purposed to get because my reading is sorely deficient in Lewis’s works. My budget is equally deficient at present, so these book purchases were set aside for later. Remember all this.

Now to September 19. I woke up with chest pain and considerable fatigue, and decided to call my cardiologist. His nurse, on hearing my symptoms, told me to go to the emergency room immediately. Great. I called a few close friends and asked for prayer and canceled my birthday dinner plans for that evening, thinking I’d surely be in the hospital, and headed out. I broke a cardinal rule that you never drive yourself if you are having chest pains, but didn’t know what else to do. A friend had offered to drive me, but she was a home-schooling Mom whose husband was out of town and I knew it would disrupt her entire day, so I foolishly declined her offer to help.

Things continued in an unpromising direction. On the seemingly interminable drive to the hospital, I ended up stopped on a railroad track behind some other cars at a stoplight. I was subsequently pulled over by a nearly abusive police officer, who yelled and flailed and accused me of everything from stupidity to flouting the law until he decided to believe my tearful story that I was driving myself to the emergency room due to chest pain and had committed the crime out of stress, and finally let me go.

As I drove on, I suddenly felt very, very alone in the uncertainty of what awaited me that day. I thought, “No one should have to go to the emergency room alone.” My usual sanguine attitude toward being single evaporated into a mist of loneliness as I struggled to keep my composure. (Never mind that I didn’t HAVE to be alone because someone had offered to drive me, and I had many friends who I know would have dropped everything to help me, but such is the nature of self-pity.)

I finally arrived at the hospital and things began to improve. I easily found a parking space and the ER was nearly empty at 8:45 on a Wednesday morning. A bored admitting clerk absentmindedly muttered, “Can I help you?” and I explained my presence. She robotically droned on with the usual questions. When she got to, “Date of birth?” and realized it was my birthday, she perked up and announced the news to the whole ER. Then, in a rather surreal departure from the usual cold and impersonal atmosphere of the ER, several staff people gathered around and sang a robust rendition of “Happy Birthday” to me. I laughed and cried, knowing I had just received a gift from God with a gift tag reading, “You are not alone.”

Things continued to get better as, after laying on a gurney in a hospital gown, freezing and undergoing tests for 4 hours, I was released with the happy and somewhat embarrassing news that my trouble was due to acid reflux disease. What a load off! On the drive home I called my friend Sarah to reinstate our evening birthday dinner plans.

I got home and checked my mail on the way into the house to find a couple of birthday cards and a package from an old friend whom I had recently reconnected with but hadn’t seen in years. I was surprised, as I had no idea she knew when my birthday was. Actually, she didn’t, and herein lay the miracle of the day, possibly of the year. Inside this friend’s package was a card with a note saying that she had vaguely recalled that my birthday was sometime in September and decided to send the card and enclosed gifts, which she had already selected for me, because “God had put you on my heart.” And what do you suppose were the gifts she sent? None other than G. K. Chesterton’s The Everlasting Man and C.S. Lewis’s The Weight of Glory! And they arrived right on my birthday. She had no idea that I had been to the Lewis conference or was planning to buy those books. This was my second gift from God, sent again with a loud message saying, “You are NOT alone.”

The day concluded with an early dinner with two friends, made more special because one is moving away soon and the other I haven’t seen in many months. We followed dinner with an impromptu visit to another dear friend, spending the rest of the evening in a festive mood, talking and laughing with her and rejoicing that I was not in the hospital having a heart attack. The evening’s events weren’t unusual or spectacular, but were simply filled with the kind of rich, warm fellowship you have once in a while that leaves you with a pleasant afterglow that lingers for several days. The day’s earlier confrontation with my own mortality really served to enhance the sweetness of the evening and my grasp of just how precious our friendships and times together really are.

I went to sleep on September 19 at home in my own bed with a smile on my face and peace in my heart. God gave me a special gift on my fifty-third birthday. He went to great lengths to show me that I am not alone and that I am greatly loved.

And you are not alone. If you feel alone, ask Him to give you a special gift, too, to show you just how much He and others love you and how much He cares for the smallest details of your life. I am praying that He will do that for you.

How Good and Pleasant It Is!

2007-09-12T13:41:00.000-04:00

“How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity! It is like precious oil poured on the head, running down the beard, running down on Aaron’s beard, down upon the collar of his robes. It is as if the dew of Hermon were falling on Mount Zion.
For there the Lord bestows his blessing, even life forevermore.”

--Psalm 133

I possess something more valuable than all the gold or prestige or power in the world. I am part of a group of friends who daily live the above psalm. All in this group are women, some married and some single. The age spread is close to 30 years. They are ministers, career women and stay-at-home moms, all from equally diverse backgrounds and with equally diverse personalities. What we have in common, other than being women, is that we happen to go to the same church and we all really love Jesus.

Because of the demands of busy lives, our group meets together at my house just twice a month. Sometimes we have times of intense intercession for the larger things going on in the world, or the smaller difficulties of our own lives. Sometimes we do girly things or watch a movie or scrapbook together. Sometimes there is uproarious laughter and sometimes tears, often both. We listen to each other and advise one another, or worship together. We share food and wine and, in stressful times, chocolate. No matter what the activity is, though, every time we meet a miracle takes place and each woman involved will cancel almost any other event in her life before missing this get-together.

Part of the miracle lies is what is conspicuously absent in the coming together of this group of friends. For example, you will never hear cattiness or gossip come out of a single mouth. Although the humor may be outrageous, it is never coarse or crude or at anyone else’s expense. There is no sarcasm, no thinly veiled digs at each other. There is no critical attitude or that infamous feminine tendency to tear one another down.

The rest of the miracle is what is present among us. When we gather in my living room, all is love and warmth and genuine interest in even the mundane details of each other’s lives. What is spoken is that which will uplift, encourage, challenge, instruct or strengthen. Each of us has perfect confidence that the contents of our very souls are safe there. Each meeting is in effect a celebration of the uniqueness of each woman, where there is appreciation for her fine points, help and encouragement for her weaknesses, but love for the whole package. Each woman’s eyes shine with the life of God and each brings His presence with her. For those precious few hours we are together, the room becomes a sanctuary of peace, joy, and emotional and spiritual safety, and every time I marvel at the glory and rarity of what we have. It really is a miracle.

It’s an amazing privilege to be associated with such an extraordinary group of women who live—not just during our meetings, but daily—with so much integrity and spirit. Many people live their entire lives without ever knowing individuals like these. In these crude and cutthroat times in which we live, it’s more precious than gold to have friends like these who provide an oasis from the storm and are so committed to walking together in Psalm 133 unity. When we meet together, it really is like having warm, fragrant oil poured over us.

I don’t know whether the last line of the Psalm (“For there the Lord bestows his blessing, even life forevermore.”) refers to Mt. Zion or to “when brothers live together in unity.” I do know that in our lives, when sisters dwell together in unity, the Lord certainly bestows his blessing and brings life. It has become my prayer that Christians everywhere will lay aside petty differences, competition and self-interest and embrace each other in this same spirit of unity. Then perhaps the world will take notice and finally declare, “See how they love one another!”

Mother Teresa is Still a Saint

2007-08-27T13:32:00.000-04:00

The news this week was full of breathless reports of Mother Teresa’s years-long doubt about the existence of God revealed in her recently published private letters. Questions abound about whether this revelation disqualifies her for canonization. However, it is doubtful that anyone who has experienced a genuine relationship with God could even ask that question. There is probably not a believer who has ever lived who has not wrestled with severe doubt in some “dark night of the soul.” In fact, such struggles may even be a prerequisite for genuine faith.

Glib faith has not been tested, and untested faith is rarely strong faith. This kind of faith gives mental assent to the teachings of childhood or comforting euphemisms spoken at funerals, but has never engaged in hand-to-hand combat for its very survival with the harshest realities of life, which are being cheered on and empowered against it by the demons of doubt and unbelief. Only in such a life-and-death struggle can faith really be proven. The Bible bears this out when it says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:2-4, NIV) Like muscles, faith is strengthened by resistance, and, as the coaches say, “No pain, no gain.”

But isn’t doubt a sin? It’s important to make a distinction between doubt and unbelief. Everyone has doubts from time to time. Doubts bombard us from without, and it’s what we do with them that makes or breaks our faith. If we reject them, our faith grows stronger. If we embrace these doubts, they become internalized in unbelief—a choice NOT to believe, or put another way, a refusal to believe, and this is sin. It is this unbelief that Jesus and the writers of the Bible spoke against that destroys our faith and threatens our souls.

God is never threatened or offended by our doubts, nor should the Church be. He knows that faith must be challenged to become real. He designed it that way. However, when we are confronted by doubts, may God help us to have the same response as the man in the Gospel of Mark who wanted Jesus to deliver his son from a dumb spirit. When Jesus asked the man if he believed, the man exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24)

I suspect that this was Mother Teresa’s cry in her dark seasons. I believe that because she persevered in the emotionally, spiritually and physically wracking work God had called her to, laying down her life for others until the very end. What greater proof of faith could she have offered? Knowing of her crisis of faith only increases her spiritual stature in my eyes and encourages my faith. Isn’t that the point of sainthood?

Lessons from a Window Box

2007-08-17T14:48:00.000-04:00

I’m not much of a gardener, but I do have a few potted flowers and window boxes on the railing of my little front porch. I love seeing the beautiful colors every time I go in or out of my house, and take a lot of joy in fussing over those few plants. My favorites are my moss roses that grow in a small pot on the top step. For the non-gardeners reading this, the moss rose is a very small, succulent plant that produces a profusion of ruffled flowers that look similar to antique roses. Each bloom only lasts one day, but what’s cool about them is that they bloom in different colors, so you never know what you’re going to get—pink, white, yellow, orange, fuscia, peach, or variegated.

While “deadheading” (removing spent blooms from) my little moss roses recently, I accidentally broke off a small part of a couple of the stems along with the spent flowers. I absentmindedly threw them into my window box with the passing thought that they would quickly rot in the heat there and perhaps fertilize the other plants. Imagine my surprise and delight, then, when I noticed yesterday that they had not only taken root, but the smallest of them was sporting a big yellow flower!

This little guy is no bigger than your thumbnail. It hadn’t been carefully rooted and planted, but simply tossed on top of the dry, hard soil. The sun blazes mercilessly in that spot all day, and only the hardiest plants can survive there. With the current heat wave, I’d guess the temperatures around that window box exceed 115 degrees. Yet this tiny bit of green plant defied the odds and lived to bear the cheeriest yellow flower you’ve ever seen, at least twice its own size.

The lesson here needs no explanation. I just want to be more like that little moss rose! Instead of just plowing through difficult circumstances and finding a way to “bloom”, I so often wait for perfect conditions before even attempting it. This is a sure recipe for accomplishing nothing in life. When are conditions ever perfect? In any worthy venture, the enemy of our souls will always make sure they are not. And why should I be deterred by difficulty anyway, when “my help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth?” (Psalm 121:2)

Whether the goal is as mundane as getting my grass cut or as lofty as achieving my God-ordained destiny, I, you--all of us--need to follow the Apostle Paul’s example, who said:

“But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:13-14)

If we’re to achieve what God calls us to achieve, to be what God calls us to be, we can’t dwell on past failures or we’ll be immobilized. We can’t even dwell on past successes, other than as an example of God’s faithfulness, or we may become cocky. We can’t look at the difficulties, or we’ll become discouraged. We have only to look forward, toward the prize, who is Christ and whose glory makes every looming obstacle seem puny. Then we can move ahead in confidence to overcome, and like my little moss rose, we will amaze the world.

By the way, if you find yourself needing a little encouragement along these lines, download the song “Press On”, written by Dan Burgess and recorded by the group Selah. It could draw the dead out of the grave! In fact, download the whole CD by that title. It's excellent.

Reading Between the Lines of Moses' Story

2007-08-14T18:19:00.000-04:00

I am still grazing in Exodus 14 and finding rich fare there. This time, I am looking at verses 10 to 15 and what they reveal about Moses’ faith and leadership in the Israelites’ exodus from Egypt during their crisis moment before the Red Sea. We can see a lot of ourselves here and draw much encouragement from what happens in these verses, particularly what happens between the lines.

In the story, Pharaoh has finally let the Israelites go, and God has led them to a place at the edge of the Red Sea where they are essentially trapped. Then Pharaoh changes his mind about releasing them, and he and his entire army set out after them. When the Israelites see them coming, the Bible reports that they were terrified. First they responded with a good thing: they “cried out to the Lord.” Then they did what most of us red-blooded Christians do in a crisis, which is 1) panic, and 2) accuse the leadership. Here’s what they said to Moses:

“Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die? What have you done to us by bringing us out of Egypt? Didn’t we say to you in Egypt, ‘Leave us alone; let us serve the Egyptians’? It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!” (Exodus 14:11-12, NIV)

Moses is in a real pickle. Not only is the whole Egyptian army bearing down on them hard and fast, but all his people are furious with him as well. He must think fast and lead well, or they are going down. But it’s hard to lead a panicky, angry crowd of millions.

The most important action in this chapter is what happens between the lines of verses 12 and 13 in Moses’ mind and heart, which is left to our imaginations, after the Israelites’ outcry but before Moses’ response to them. Considering their situation, it probably didn’t take long for Moses to decide. We can be fairly sure, though, that in those brief moments a million anxious thoughts and prayers raced through Moses’ mind as he teetered on that razor’s edge of decision. Although he was God’s anointed leader and trusted the Lord, he was also human and as tempted to panic as the people were. Under intense pressure, feeling the full crush of a desperate situation, he had to choose: would he trust God or would he cave in to fear and resort to human reasoning and fleshly action?

His words indicate his choice:

“Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. They Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” (Exodus 14:13-14, NIV)

Whether he felt as bold and confident as his prophetic words sound we will never know (although if we can do such things, I’m going to ask him when we get to heaven), nor does it matter. The important thing is that he chose to trust God. As a result, Israel was saved, history was changed and God got the glory.

It is easy for us to read these consecutive verses and think that Moses just showed this courage under fire without hesitation or doubt. However, the very next verse provides evidence that he did struggle with doubt or panic or just knowing what to do next. It says, “Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to move on.’” (Exodus 14:15) I can just hear him yelling, “GOD! HEEEELLLLLLP!” It seems that the Lord was a bit miffed with him for whining instead of acting. Nevertheless, He instructed and helped Moses, and Moses went on the lead the Israelites to a miraculous deliverance.

Although most of our own life situations are less dramatic, the history of our lives is also written in those moments of decision in the clouded and pressurized environment of difficult circumstances. Although our situation may be foggy and confusing, God always gives us a very clear choice between faith and unbelief, trust and fear.

Several years ago, the Lord informed me that the faith challenges of my own life would only get bigger and the stakes higher. I balked and asked, “Won’t I ever get a break?” His blunt answer was, “No.” He has lived up to His word in that.

It’s the same in all of our lives, just in different ways. But the reward for choosing faith and trust in each growing challenge is ever increasing supernatural blessing and growth that not only affects our own lives, but ripples out to those whose lives we influence. Moses’ decision to trust God wrote the history of Israel and impacted our own history. The consequences of our choosing faith over unbelief may not have such dramatic consequences. Or it may. A lot hangs on our choices.

Thank God, as with Moses, He is patient and will overlook our temporary struggling and wavering. He only counts our ultimate decision and will always bless a choice for faith. May God grant us courage and faith, and may He get all the glory.

Moses and Our Burning Bush

2007-08-03T15:33:00.000-04:00

I’ve started a study of the Exodus, which is providing a revealing look at Moses as a leader and at the interplay of the leader Moses and his followers, the Israelites. In Exodus, I really see one of the things I love most about the Bible, which is the warts-and-all picture it gives us of its lead characters. There are no perfect, larger-than-life heroes here, only regular people who are often extraordinary only in their shortcomings, who are used in amazing ways by an extraordinary God. Moses is exactly such an unlikely hero, and his people are equally unpromising followers. In this, there are some lessons and parallels we can draw between them and us as Americans and our current leader, George W. Bush.

To summarize the story so far, God has appeared to Moses in the burning bush and told him to return to Egypt and liberate the Israelites from their slavery. He balks at this idea because of insecurity and unbelief, but agrees when God tells him his brother Aaron will help him as spokesman. They tell the Israelite elders and people that God is about to deliver them, and Exodus 4:31 says that the people believed. The Lord had already told Moses and Aaron that Pharaoh would not comply when they first asked him to let the Israelites go, but nothing in these verses indicates that they shared that information with the people.

So, Moses and Aaron ask Pharaoh to let their people go. Not only does he refuse, but he now adds to their burden by forcing them to gather their own straw for brick making without reducing their quota of bricks. This was not in the plan. Not only has Pharaoh denied the people’s great deliverance, but he has made their situation even worse. With dashed hopes, the Israelites lash out at Moses. Then Moses, ever God’s man of faith and power, lashes out at God:

“O Lord, why have you brought trouble upon this people? Is this why you sent me? Ever since I went to Pharaoh to speak in your name, he has brought trouble upon this people, and you have not rescued your people at all.” (Exodus 5:22-23, NIV)

Who can blame him for griping (although he could have been more respectful)? He didn’t want the job of deliverer anyway. Still, didn’t God tell Moses that Pharaoh would reject their first entreaty? Then why is he surprised? Why didn’t he warn the people that this would happen and avoid losing credibility with them? Where did his faith go? Why did he panic at his first encounter with unintended consequences?

I don’t know. I do know, however, that Moses went on from this inauspicious beginning to deliver the Israelites from Egypt with incredible courage and faith. The point is that God uses extremely flawed human beings to accomplish His purposes, and success depends upon HIS greatness, not ours. This is why Paul could say, speaking of Jesus, “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.” (2 Corinthians 12:9, NIV)

What does this have to do with President George W. Bush in the U.S. in 2007? He is in a place similar to that of Moses at this point. He has undertaken a big action in Afghanistan and Iraq that his people, supporters and critics alike, largely believed in at the beginning. When that action didn’t end in instant success, many Americans, a lot of Republicans along with Democrats, condemned him as the Israelites did Moses, shouting, “May the Lord look upon you and judge you!” (Exodus 5:21) Like Moses, he is an imperfect man and an imperfect leader. But when we are ready to burn our Bush, we’d do well to remember that like Moses, it is God who has made Bush our leader (see Romans 13:1-7).

If you’ve read the rest of the book, you know that Israel did escape Egypt and reach the Promised Land and Moses went on to become one of the greatest leaders in history, despite his shortcomings. Throughout the Bible, we are told that it is God who sets up kings and deposes kings and who controls the destiny of nations. For our own nation, whether or not we personally feel that we can trust President Bush, we can surely trust in God who placed him in the presidency. Like the Israelites in Exodus 5, we have not read the end of our story yet. If we put our faith in God and pray for our president, who knows but that our outcome may be as good as theirs.

Making God Happy

2007-06-13T12:30:00.000-04:00

Today I found something interesting in I Corinthians 10, where Paul is writing warnings to the Corinthian church against several sins for which God destroyed the Israelites in their wanderings in the wilderness after leaving Egypt on their way to the Promised Land. Included among these are the usual suspects of lust, idolatry, sexual immorality and provoking God--and grumbling. It was striking to me that Paul, and God, seem to give the same weight to complaining that they give to the traditionally more "serious" sins, so I decided to look into it.

Of course, the principle force behind complaining is ingratitude, which is rooted in pride, the original sin. But all that is just academic until we see the effect that ingratitude has on God's heart. Even a quick scan of the verses in Nave's Topical Bible under ingratitude give a heart-wrenching picture of God's anguish over Israel's forgetfulness and rejection of Him, in spite of all His miracles and all His blessing on their behalf. Can you hear it in His words in Hosea 11:1-4 below?

When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. But the more I called Israel, the further they went from me. They sacrificed to the Baals and they burned incense to images. It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking them by the arms; but they did not realize it was I who healed them. I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love; I lifted the yoke from their neck and bent down to feed them.

Then in Hosea 13:6 the Lord sums it up tersely:

When I fed them, they were satisfied; when they were satisfied, they became proud; then they forgot me.

It's easy to wonder how the Israelites could have been so foolish and obtuse to grieve the Lord in that way after all the stunning miracles He performed on their behalf. Yet the miracle of the new heart and changed life that He has given each of us as believers is so much greater! The fact that He changes us into His image from glory to glory is astounding. And what about the way He orders our lives and brings His purposes to pass in and through us with wisdom that absolutely confounds us? Think of the big miracles of provision we've all experienced at times, or the small, intimate ways He lets us know that we are on His mind. Consider the fact the most of us have never had to worry whether there would be food to eat or a roof over our heads tomorrow. Is there anyone reading this who, if in dire trouble or need, does not have someone he or she could call on for help?

We Americans are probably the most blessed people in the world, and yet often the least grateful. Taking time to consider all these things, and other blessings that come to mind, will cure ingratitude and grumbling. I, for one, do not want to grieve God's heart by being ungrateful, complaining, proud, or self-sufficient--sins as ugly as idolatry or immorality. I want to begin and end every day by thanking and praising God for all He's done in my life, remembering always that "every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the father of heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows" (James 1:17). In so doing, I want to bring Him joy instead of grief. What else could I do for a God who has done so much for me?

A Call to a Higher Political Plane

2007-06-05T12:49:00.000-04:00

Nobody loves a good political argument more than I do, but one of the things that troubles me most in our society these days is the crassness and incivility of our public discourse. You hear it on the airwaves at every turn, especially on talk radio. It comes from the Right and the Left. It even comes from Christians in the public arena. When in this country did it become necessary to ruthlessly attack an opponent's character, motives and even physical appearance to get one's own opinion across? What happened to the art of entreaty, of wooing others to our point of view instead of bludgeoning them with it? When did those of differing philosophies and opinions become unworthy of personal respect? When did we lose so much self-respect that we have to build ourselves up by belittling others? At the same time, when did we become so proud that we think we, and those who agree with us, are the only ones entitled to express an opinion? When did gentlemanliness and honor fall from favor?

On the political Left, all this expresses itself in the intolerance of political correctness, which in its extremes boils down to little more than censorship. On the Right, it comes out in things like radio talk show hosts labeling opposing callers "idiots", or referring to presidential candidates of the other party as "fags." From all sides, accusations fly. Everywhere emotion overrules logic. Why is it not enough to simply say, "I disagree with you, and here is why. . . ?"

Every time we engage in this kind of destructive behavior, I believe we receive another tear in our national fabric and a little bit of our soul dies. How much better it would be if we would win others to our way of thinking through clarity and solid logic (the old-fashioned way) and passion for our principles. If we stopped seeing and treating those with different viewpoints as enemies instead of fellow citizens with, well, different viewpoints, we might remember that opposing views help focus and sharpen our ideas. In so doing, we could rebuild trust and credibility with each other. Instead of the instant wall of defense that now flys up the second our opponent speaks, we could create a fresh atmosphere in which ears at least can and might listen.

Now more than ever we are engaged in a battle of ideas and we do need to speak Truth in the marketplace. As Lady Margaret Thatcher once said, "This is no time to go wobbly." In today's cultural climate, Christians have to defend even the notion of truth. Truth will always offend and bring fierce opposition; however, let's be sure it's Truth bringing the the offense and not the way we deliver that Truth. Ephesians 4:29-32 describes what our heart attitude should be as we speak:

"Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you."

Our motive must be to build up, not to destroy. Righteous anger will always be directed against "the spiritual forces of evil" (Ephesians 6:12), not against our political opponents and fellow citizens. Extending respect and courtesy to those we vehemently disagree with is a sign of strength, not weakness. All people of good will who love this country, should choose today to rise above the lowest common denominator in public debate and live and speak as men and women of honor. If we do, we can raise the standard and change the climate of hate, disdain and distrust in American politics and beyond.

Praying for Presidents

2007-05-09T10:41:00.000-04:00

I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone--for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness.
I Timothy 2:1-2

Most of us really want to faithfully pray for our president and other leaders. With a presidential election looming before us and a pack of what appear to be less-than-promising candidates, now is a great time to start praying for our future leader as well. But sometimes it's hard to know what to say. Good news--there is a great model for us in King David's Psalm 101.

Psalm 101 is David's declaration to God of what kind of man he wants to be as king, and what kind of servants he intends to keep around him. Some commentators say he wrote this while he was waiting to become king. Whether before or after, it's a glimpse into the heart of a humble and devoted man of integrity with a call to rulership--exactly what we want in our own White House. Here are some bullet point summaries of his words that we can pray for our current and future national leaders:

Verse 1 - "I will sing of your love and justice. . ." - some versions use the words mercy and judgment. A godly ruler should embrace both and exhibit both, since the function of his office is to both encourage righteousness and punish evil. He should be able to apply justice and mercy appropriately and in proper balance.
Verse 2 - "I will be careful to lead a blameless life. . ." - He will pay attention to how he walks and curb his sinful tendencies.
Verses 2b-3 - "I will walk in my house with blameless heart. I will set before my eyes no vile thing." - His blameless life in v. 2 will spring from a blameless heart, or some versions say integrity of heart. He will maintain that heart by guarding his "eye gate."
Verses 3b-7 - These verses are all about the kind of men he will surround himself with, his "ministers" or servants. In our modern parlance, these would be the king's advisers. He calls for men who:

are faithful
not of perverse heart
don't slander (mudslinging?)
are arrogant and proud in heart
walk blamelessly
do not lie or practice deceit

It's very significant that David spends more of this psalm talking about those he will surround himself with than he talks about himself. That illustrates a point that few people realize--that a president's (or senator's or congressman's) advisers are every bit as important to his success or failure as he is himself, even if he is a strong leader. They are the ones who study the issues in depth, as the president can't possibly have time to know everything about everything. He is often depending on their depth and accuracy of knowledge and understanding of complex issues and events. He must be able to trust them to support and guide him in his agenda and not one of their own. They are the ones who tell him how to handle every problem, issue, crisis or conflict. They spend more "face time" with him than anyone else and have his ear.

So, it naturally follows that if these people are righteous, wise and trustworthy, the president and nation are well served by them. But if they are faithless, perverse in heart, arrogant, slanderous and deceitful, the consequences can be devastating for the president and the nation. This is why we need to pray that President Bush and our future president surround themselves with the right kind of people.

Let's pray together that God will in his mercy give us leaders and advisers like David, who, although he was by no mean a perfect man, loved the Lord with his whole heart and sought to honor Him as a man and as a king.

The Fearsome Foursome Rides Again

2007-04-16T15:33:00.000-04:00

The Fearsome Frizzin' Freakin' Foursome rode again recently back in the old hometown for a long overdue reunion. This was the goofy name my three high school bests buds and I coined to describe ourselves back then. It was our collective identity. "Frizzin'" referred to our hairstyles. "Freakin'" had something to do with our crazy teenage antics. "Foursome" was obviously because there were four of us, but I'm not exactly sure why we were "Fearsome." What can I say? It was 1971. I can offer no other explanation. But we were the best of friends and stuck together like white sticks to rice.

We were unlikely candidates for the close friendship we shared, all from different backgrounds and with diverse personalities. There was Geni, the high school beauty queen and debutante, from the "right" family, shy and reserved. Geni was tortured that, in spite of the fact that she had everything going for her, not many boys asked her out. This was a great mystery to us all, until we learned from one of the boys that they all worshiped her from afar, but were too intimidated by her beauty even attempt asking her out for fear of rejection. In addition to her beauty, she possessed a strong moral compass, had more sense than the rest of us and was the only one who was not rebellious and didn't have problems getting along with her parents. I don't think she knew it at the time, but she was our rock. We hung out at her house a lot.

There was Rene, shy, insecure, childlike and delightful. She was the only girl in a dysfunctional family that was not exactly considered A-list in a small fish bowl of a town containing a lot of big fish who thrived on snobbery. She was a year younger than the rest of us. We would never even have met her had not one of my male friends started dating her and asked me to befriend her. My boyfriend and I double-dated with them on their first date. Before that night, I rode by her house one afternoon to see where she lived, and there she was in the front yard, rolling around in the grass with her big shaggy dog. Right then I knew she would be well worth getting to know. She was given to depression then, but also had, and still has, an outrageous sense of humor and fun.

Then there was Charlene, the unfavored (at least in her perception) middle daughter of a bitter divorcee, who valued social status and proper appearances above all, values that Charlene rejected. Her mother disapproved of Rene and I, as we weren't "their kind of people" (although she was always cordial to us), which naturally made Charlene attach to us even more. She also chose a boyfriend who was custom-designed to drive her mother nuts--definitely from the wrong side of the tracks, and not even cute. Despite that one lapse in judgment, Charlene was and remains infinitely kind and loving, a devoted friend, the caregiver and nurturer, and the instigator of fun, insanity and togetherness.

That leaves me, a Yankee transplant in a time when southern kids still argued about who won The War (uh, that would be the Civil War) and chanted playground slogans like, "Save your Dixie cups, for the South shall rise again!" This gave me what was then called an inferiority complex so that I never felt that I quite fit in. Although I was admitted to all the coveted teenage institutions in town, I felt very much like Harold Abrams in the classic movie, Chariots of Fire, talking about the alienation of being Jewish in England when he said, "They lead me to water, but they won't let me drink." I was foolish and silly like all teenage girls, but in some ways wise beyond my years, considered something of a philosopher, and a very loyal friend.

Against the odds, the four of us became fiercely loyal friends to one another. We were all wracked by teenage angst. Except for Geni, we also had problems at home and became a surrogate family for one another. What really drew us together, though, was a shared sense of the intrinsic value of things, unusual in teens, that led us to reject what we felt was the "plastic" lifestyle of the "In Crowd" with their slavish attention to appearances, fashion, and the whim of the moment. We decided to be true to ourselves, to be "real" instead of imitating someone else because he or she was deemed "cool." If that made us cool, great. If not, that was fine, too. Perhaps we can be forgiven if we were a bit self-righteous about it, because at least it kept us from caving to peer pressure to indulge in sex and drugs, if not rock 'n roll.

After high school, our paths diverged greatly. Two summers later, Charlene went to the beach for three weeks and came back married to a guy she met there. They settled in Charleston, she became a nurse, raised two sons, and she and her husband have now been married about 30 years and share a quintessentially Low Country South Carolina life near Charleston.

Rene married a great classmate of mine on her eighteenth birthday, one month before his nineteenth birthday. No sane person would have placed a bet on the success of that marriage, but 30 years later, they are more in love than ever. They have lived all over the world with the U.S. Air Force, raised two children, and lost one tragically, their beautiful 18-year-old daughter, in a car accident a few year ago. Rene recently finished her B.A. in fine arts that she'd worked on through all their moves for over 20 years. They have retired from the Air Force and settled in Arkansas.

Geni also married a promising hometown boy, whom she nearly lost during their engagement to a brain aneurism. He was not expected to survive it, and if he did, doctors predicted it would be in a vegetative state. After many weeks in a coma, faith in God's power to heal and a miracle brought him through. Today he is an OB-GYN who spends his vacations doing medical missions in South America. Geni is an elementary school teacher. They have three kids and live in our hometown.

And me, well, I've led quite an eclectic life. I'm still single, and have done just about everything. For example, I spent nearly ten years in Washington, DC serving senators, a congressman and a vice president, and another ten as a missionary in Latvia. Go figure. Now I live in Atlanta, teaching, writing and serving my church.

So half a lifetime after the Fearsome Freakin' Frizzin' Foursome disbanded, here we were together again. Now we are middle-aged women with bad knees and high blood pressure, and one a breast cancer survivor. Teen angst has been replaced by family and life challenges. But each of us still has all the endearing qualities that made us love each other in the beginning. We spent two all-too-short days in the warm and comforting cocoon of each other's love and companionship. We just picked up where we had left off. It was one of those things that you bask in the afterglow of for days. I drove back to Atlanta feeling full and enriched.

And I learned something that I thought I already knew: Lifelong friendships are too precious to allow to atrophy because life and distance get in the way. Sometimes we have to fight for them, but like anything of value in life, they are worth the fight. After all, wasn't that what we were about as teenagers--what is real and true? When you distill life down to its essence, what is left is our relationships, first with God, and then with family and friends. I intend to hold onto mine.

FYI, we have committed to get together again this summer and a couple of times a year after that for the duration.

A Call to the Church

2007-04-02T15:41:00.000-04:00

I’m a news junkie, but my habit is causing me grief and so I may have to give it up. Almost everything I hear or read seems to reinforce one conclusion: Our nation has reached the nadir of her moral strength and leadership in the world. This is a great tragedy, because we have so much to lose.

Our wholesale rebellion against God began some 40 or so years ago, but we have been coasting on the momentum of a better, stronger time since then. Now, however, that borrowed energy has just about run out. As we grind to a halt, we are beginning to feel the full impact of the folly of that rebellion in this generation. Indeed, soon to come of age is the first generation in our history who barely have a nodding acquaintance with even cultural Christianity and who have no knowledge of or respect for God and His ways. Even in the household of God, there is little difference between the churched and the unchurched. It has left us empty, shallow, coarse, cold-hearted, and selfish.

As a result, there are, of course, consequences to be paid as a nation. I could fill a thousand blogs listing them. Suffice it to say that we are left without a moral compass, we are abandoning our God-given destiny and, worst of all, we have dishonored God.

As I was thinking these doleful thoughts this morning, I picked up my Bible, which fell open to Isaiah 54 and 55, and began to read. I know that Isaiah was writing about Israel and not the United States, yet we are so similar to Israel in our cycles of apostasy, and I desperately pray that we would similarly find God’s forgiveness and restoration as expressed in these chapters. I urge you to read and pray Isaiah 54 for the United States. I believe that the generous mercy described there is still available to us today if we will humble ourselves before God and ask for His gift of repentance. I’m encouraged by Chapter 55:1-3 and 6-7:

"Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare. Give ear and come to me; hear me, that your soul may live. I will make an everlasting covenant with you, my faithful love promised to David."

"Seek the Lord while he may be found; call on him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man his thoughts. Let him turn to the Lord, and he will have mercy on him, and to our God, for he will freely pardon."

Verse 2 sums up what we have done as a people:

“Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy?”

We have spent all we have on self-indulgence, sensuality, lust for money, rebellion, materialism and other worthless sins. Now, our souls are bankrupt, gaunt and starved, and yet we say, “’I am rich, have become wealthy, and have need of nothing'--and do not know that you are wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked—” (Revelation 3:17) And we continue to look for nourishment everywhere but in God. God, however, in His amazing mercy, still calls to us to return to Him.

As I read this morning, I felt that these words are a clarion call to the Church in this season, right now. God is calling us to “come.” He is calling the unconverted, but He is especially calling His own people who have become apathetic and backslidden and have been seduced by other things that do not satisfy.

God has been speaking to the whole church that the heavens are open in this season and that grace is readily available for every need. He has extended the golden scepter to us and urges, “Ask what you will and I will grant it.” If you are a believer whose heart has become cold, God says, “Come.” Do it now, while he is calling. If you are a Christian walking closely with the Lord, call on Him in a spirit of intercession for others. He WILL hear and answer. He is ready to forgive and restore and even bring us to our finest hour. This is our time. Do it for the honor of God and the advance of His kingdom, and do it for our nation’s future.

Reflections on Elections: Despair and Hope

2007-03-26T15:44:00.000-04:00

The current crop of Republican presidential hopefuls drives me to my knees in prayer, and not just because I can’t decide who to go for. It’s that I can’t seem to find strong leadership and Christian character existing together in one body. There is none that appears to exhibit integrity in its true meaning of wholeness.

To see what I mean, consider a few of the choices. Rudy Giuliani. America’s Mayor is a proven leader, but supports abortion and gay rights and has a history of blatant infidelity and divorce. Mitt Romney. A Mormon, he looks good and talks the right talk, but only recently changed from pro-choice to pro-life. Changed man or opportunist? John McCain. This war hero seems to be on the right side of the moral issues, but otherwise, it’s hard to tell just whose kingdom he’s building. Then, there’s Newt. Leader of the 1994 Republican Revolution and darling of conservatives, he has leadership and the right but he has character issues. During President Clinton’s impeachment trial, while Gingrich was speaking out against Clinton for his behavior with Monica Lewinsky, he himself was having his own extramarital affair, even as his wife was hospitalized with cancer.

So again I ask, “Where is character and leadership in one person?” Where is a potential president who knows where he wants to take the country, how to get there, and can get people to rally to his vision? Should we find that person, will he, or she, possess enough courage of his convictions to refuse to sacrifice them before the altar of political expediency? Will he be a man of prayer and have enough wisdom, humility and fear of God to know that he needs godly counselors? Will his heart hold enough of God’s love and compassion to deal with his political adversaries with fairness and respect? Will he be a standard bearer and not a standard breaker?

I’d have despaired of ever having such a leader if I had not seen the promise in our church’s young people and the way their parents are diligently and purposefully raising them. In a culture that has made a parent’s job nearly impossible, they have made training their children’s character Job One. Then they have recognized their kids’ God-given bent and call, and gently guided them in that direction, all the while teaching them to love, obey and enjoy God with all their hearts. This is a winning strategy, and all heaven is cheering on these parents and others like them, because more is at stake than we could possible know. They and their children have given us all hope for the future.

In the dim valleys of the daily grind of raising a family, it must be easy for parents to lose sight of the loftier peaks of their own calling as parents of tomorrow’s kingdom builders. If you are a parent, let God reveal them to you afresh, and be encouraged, because you, and others like you, are raising standard bearers who just may be the ones to lead this nation, in their different fields, out of the morass of mediocrity into God’s fuller expression of righteousness and justice, truth and mercy. Who knows but that among your kids there is a future president or two.

Finding the Church at Meerkat Manor

2007-03-06T23:39:00.000-05:00

I’m all about meerkats. Anyone who has seen five minutes of Animal Planet’s Meerkat Manor would have to agree that these strange relatives of the mongoose are really cute and fascinating. But more important than cuteness, they give us a great picture of the Church community as God intended it. OK, my pastor didn’t buy it either when I tried to get him to use them as a sermon illustration once. But consider the following facts about meerkat life:

1. Meerkats are very social animals and live in groups, called mobs or gangs, for protection, as their desert habitat presents many challenges. When one gang encroaches on another gang’s territory, group members band together, fluff their fur out, jump up and down to make themselves appear bigger, and make a lot of noise. This is called mobbing. After the conflict, the winners will hug and congratulate each other with human-like gestures (although this is really re-marking each other with the group’s scent). We would also do well to “mob” our spiritual enemies. When we are united as one, I'm sure we look a lot bigger to the enemy of our souls, and indeed we are. Perhaps the metaphor breaks down at the point of fur fluffing, jumping up and down and making a lot of noise. But maybe this could be warring prayer. . . . At any rate, we could surely benefit by standing shoulder to shoulder to deal with our mutual threats and then rejoicing together after the victory has been won.

2. Each Meerkat in a mob has an important role to perform. For example, there are:

--Babysitters – who stay with the pups while the gang is out foraging for food. Different gang members take this responsibility different days. This job is not dominated by males or females. Ahem. . . .

-- Sentries – who watch over the gang to spot danger. Meerkats have been known to climb up to 30 feet in a tree to do sentry duty. This duty is performed by males and females. There is a sentry on watch both at the burrow system as well as when the gang is foraging for food. In other words, they never let their guard down. They keep “watchmen on the walls" who are contantly protecting the others from predators and will go to whatever lengths necessary to insure that no member of their gang gets picked off.

--Excavators – Sometimes it’s necessary to renovate burrow systems. Often Meerkats will get one behind another and work together to move sand out of the burrow system, similar to the way firemen used to hand buckets of water to one another to put out a fire in the old days. It’s about teamwork, you see.

--Mentors - An elder Meerkat will take on the responsibility of teaching pups the DOs and DON’Ts of being a Meerkat. This includes how to raise young, how to forage for food, and what to look out for. For example, raising young is a learned behavior for Meerkats. Let’s say a pup is separated from her mob at birth and kept as a pet. If that pup gets pregnant, she will not know how to raise her young or teach them how to forage for food. Could there be a more scriptural expression of church community than this?

--Groomers- Meerkats like to groom one another and will remove ticks and fleas from one anther and actually eat them, though these parasites are not a normal part of their diet. Yes, this is disgusting. Spiritually speaking, of course, we all need friends to help us with parasite removal from time to time. And, we all need to help someone else get rid of their parasites, too, even if it’s not our regular thing.

You can see that with meerkats, it’s all about community and being responsible for and to one another. It’s about knowing your function in the group and performing it wholeheartedly. It can pretty much be summed up this way:

MEERKAT MOTTO

Respect the Elders, Teach the Young, Cooperate with the Family,Play when you can, Work when you should, Rest in between.Share your Affection, Voice your Feelings, Leave your Mark.
© Fellow Earthlings' Wildlife Center, Inc.

Does it really get much better than that?

Everything I Know About Life I Learned From My Dog

2007-02-25T11:21:00.000-05:00

Some of the simplest yet most profound lessons in life I have learned from Carrie. Carrie is my Latvian yellow Lab pictured on the left who came home from the mission field with me. By the way, Carrie is very intelligent and understands both English and Russian. She obeys (or ignores) commands in either language.

Anyway, next to swimming, Carrie loves nothing more than to go for a walk. She loves to explore all the sights and scents of the larger world outside our small house and yard. The two little words, "poydyom gulyat'", or "let's go for a walk," are all it takes to get paws dancing and tail wagging.

But in order to get the anticipated walk, Carrie knows that she must submit to the dreaded muzzle. She despises her muzzle, but since she has been known to bite other dogs, we don't go out without it. Still, she knows that wearing that muzzle is the key to something greater that, in her dog's world, is well worth the discomfort and confinement of it. So when I approach her with the muzzle, without prompting, she sits down and lifts her head, perfectly still and snout extended high, so that I can easily put it on her. Then without delay, off we go to explore the world (or at least the neighbors' yards).

How much easier and more joyful would our lives be if we could learn to submit to the discipline of the Lord with the same speed, willingness, and anticipation? If you have walked with God more than three days, you have undoubtedly experienced that uncomfortable confinement of God's discipline. Maybe it's that he seems slow in giving you something you desperately want or need, like a new job, a ministry you've dreamed of, a husband or wife, or children. Maybe you know you are gifted and called to a public ministry or career, and feel you should be progressing in it, and instead you seem to be going nowhere, hidden away in a place of obscurity. In situations like these, instead of quietly submitting to the yoke knowing, like Carrie does, that it will yield good things, most of us want to throw off God's loving and purposeful restraints and either press forward on our own or give up.

For those who have ears to hear, however, Hebrews 12 encourages us that the Lord disciplines those he loves and that it's proof that we are true sons and not illegitimate. It also says that he disciplines us for our certain good and that the results of it are life, sharing in his holiness, and a "harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." (Hebrews 12: 11) If we really believe this, then we can approach his discipline with faith and not just endurance, but embrace it with patient but joyful anticipation of stellar results that will benefit us and glorify the Lord through our lives. Who doesn't want that?

Even the Bible admits that "no discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful." (Hebrews 12:11) Nobody knows that better than Jesus, "who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." (Hebrews 12:2) Thank God that Jesus never lost that vision of joy ahead through the toughest trial in all eternity. We have reaped the benefit of his obedience. Let's follow his example in the smaller challenges of our own lives. It will be worth it all. Just ask Carrie.

Higher Ways, Higher Thoughts

2007-02-12T11:34:00.000-05:00

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.
--Isaiah 55:8-9

In the past, I have usually looked to this passage of Scripture for consolation when something didn't work out as I'd hoped or something happened, usually bad, that I didn't understand. But today, reading it for the umpteenth time, I see it in a whole new light and whole new faith.

Today, these words fill me with forward-looking anticipation instead of a backwards-looking, sometimes grim sense that, well, God must have known what he was doing. The old view was about acquiescence in what has passed; the new view is about hope and faith for the future. The old view was about God chiding me for my doubts and regrets, as if to say, "I'm God. Don't you think I know what I'm doing here?"

In the new view, I hear God saying, "Yes, you are facing challenges that are bigger than your ability to figure out, but take heart! I've lifted that burden from your shoulders, for I have solutions that your finite mind can't even conceive, yet they are simple for me. And I delight to employ them on your behalf for your benefit and my glory! I WILL make a way where there seems to be no way. Just trust me." In this scripture, I hear today an extension of that same sense I've had since December that God is not only able, not only willing, but eager to show himself strong on our behalf. It fills me with a childlike sense of excitement like when I was a kid, waiting for Christmas morning to see what wonderful things were under the tree for me.

The promise goes further in verses 10-11 to say that what God speaks cannot fail to accomplish his desire and purpose. You and I can completely rest in that reality. I don't have to lay awake at night trying to figure out what to do about the thorny problems of my life. My job is to lay them before him in faith, obey anything he might tell me to do, and then praise him in grateful, joyful anticipation of the answers. Then verses 12 and 13 will be fulfilled:

"You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.
Instead of the thornbush will grow the pine tree,
and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.
This will be for the Lord's renown,
for an everlasting sign, which will not be destroyed."

Love's Labors Not Lost on Lena

2007-02-07T11:09:00.000-05:00

Lena Dering represents every reason I invested ten years of love and labor as a missionary in Latvia. Her life typifies my dream for those whose lives God privileged me to touch, and whose lives touched mine so deeply there.

Lena (pictured at the right) is from Sakhalin in Russia's Far East. Her only memories of her father are violent ones of physical abuse. Her mother died when she was still a young girl. Somehow she ended up living in Riga, Latvia, with her grandmother. That's where her path crossed ours at Morning Star Church of Latvia. Through some of her Christian school friends who had joined our church, she gave her heart to Jesus and began her often arduous journey with Him. And with us.

When Lena first came to our church, she was far more cynical, distrustful, hardened and street smart than a young teenager should ever be. She was a classic "survivor." But under the tough shell was a tender, if wounded, heart that longed to trust God and to love Him, and be loved by Him. And by us. She had many false starts. Sometimes she would disappear for months and return to her old life. But the love of God kept drawing her back. The very stubbornness and tenacity she had learned in order to survive, God used to keep her doggedly coming after Him.

One message we constantly taught that resonated with Lena was that God had a purpose for her life that was bigger than herself, a role for which she was specifically designed, to help build the Kingdom of God on earth. We taught that salvation was only a starting point and that God had called each of us to partner with Him to destroy the works of the devil and rebuild righteous things on this earth. She learned the truth of Colossians 1:16-20 that all things were created by Him and for Him, that He is to have supremacy in all things, and that the Bible speaks authoritatively to every field of human endeavor, not just the spiritual realm.

So when I started a biblical world view course in Riga, she was the first to sign up. At our class Lena would ask so many penetrating questions that I would be exhausted, often with a headache, by the time we quit (which was always later than planned). But it was great, and she really caught a sense of destiny and a vision for becoming a positive witness and influence in her world. At the same time, as the Lord healed her heart more and more, He deposited in her a growing compassion for people whom society has rejected. It became more and more clear that her destiny was to fight for these people, and to call them out of darkness into the "glorious liberty of the children of God." (Romans 8:21)

Jump forward with me a few years to 2004. That was the year that most of our American team in Latvia came back to the U.S., as it was clear that our work there was done. Lena came as well, and settled in Nashville to serve with Pastor Bob and Sharon Perry in new ministries they were forming there.

Not long after, she began to learn about the heinous and growing problem of human trafficking, the capture, sale and exploitation of children and women for the worldwide sex trade. She learned quickly that this problem didn't just afflict faraway lands like Thailand, but was burgeoning right here in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave. She began to study everything she could get her hands on about this topic. God began to connect her with others around the U.S. who are working to rescue the victims and end the practice of human trafficking. It has become the consuming passion of her life. Today she continues to network with others working on this problem, speaking out to church and other groups, creating multi-media presentations and even collaborating on an opera that addresses the problem being composed by David Perry. (Stay tuned for more on David's work.)

Gentle reader, forgive me for gushing a bit when I say that I am so proud of Lena. Here is a young woman from a very tough background with nothing but disadvantages, who practically raised herself in the stifling Soviet system, where speaking out and fighting social injustice was punished rather than praised. Many from her nation who have come to these shores come with one goal in mind: to get rich and forget the lack they knew back home. But Lena has come to give. She sees American liberty and wealth as a resource for fighting her chosen fight more than as a means of self-aggrandizement. Of course, she would love to prosper here, but rather than seeking to lose herself in the comfort of American prosperity, she looks outward to the world and seeks to better it from her perch in Nashville. These things she does because she believes that God has called us to build His kingdom here on earth and take His light to the dark corners, wherever they are.

My personal motto for my life in Latvia was, and continues to be here, "rebuilding a nation, one life at a time." Lena Dering is one life that proves the efficacy of that motto and why we need to go to the nations, starting with our own. I am humbled to have had the joy and privilege to be at least a small influence in her life.

Move On!

2007-01-27T10:33:00.000-05:00

After weeks, I am still musing in Exodus 14. This is the chapter in which the Israelites have begun their exodus from Egypt, but now find themselves hemmed in by the sea and the desert with Pharaoh's troops in hot pursuit. Of course, we all know that God miraculously delivers them in the end. I want to focus, however, on their initial response to this frightening situation in the hours before they see God move on their behalf.

In verse 8, the Bible tells us that at the beginning of their exodus the Israelites were "marching out boldly." Isn't this the way we always start out when God has spoken something new to us to do that requires an active faith response? We have a fresh word in our hearts, we're brimming with confidence and faith that God is in control, and we march out boldly. It often seems there's a divine ease in beginning, at least once we overcome the initial inertia that plagues many of us.

That's before we hit the wall. Israel hit a wall. Verses 10-12 describe their response to the very LARGE wall that they hit.

As pharaoh approached, the Israelites looked up, and there were the Egyptians marching after them. They were terrified and cried out to the Lord. They said to Moses, "Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die? What have you done to us by bringing us out of Egypt? Didn't we say to you in Egypt, 'Leave us alone; let us serve the Egyptians'? It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!"

One look at the sea before and Pharaoh's armies behind was all it took for them to go from "bold" to "terrified." Suddenly Pharaoh looked big and God looked small. In that moment, a life of servitude under the status quo seemed infinitely preferable to, well, certain death. But this very point is where the rubber of adversity meets the road of faith. The Israelites had forgotten one thing: they forgot Whom they were serving and Who had led them by His own sublime, divine design to this perfect place of impossibility. Their problem wasn't the sea and the Egyptians at all, because God had their back on that situation. Their problem was their fear and reticence to leave the safe familiar for the scary unknown.

How much easier it is to stay in the place, at the level, with the things we are familiar with than it is to strike out into the great unknown of pursuing our dreams and destinies! Many of us have been in a season for some time when we have faced our own walls, our own Red Sea and pursuing Egyptians. It has been very difficult, not only to see the way forward, but even more so to see that the benefits of moving forward will outweigh the cost. If we remain in "Egypt", we can stick with familiar challenges that we have figured out how to deal with. There we can continue as we always have, with neither too much cost, nor too much benefit. In other words, we can simply maintain the status quo. This is what the Israelites wanted to do.

Yet, throughout God's church He has been speaking that this is a season to strike out boldly and pursue dreams and destinies. Most of you have sensed this in your own hearts. He has repeatedly given His assurance that if we will strike out, there will be provision and fulfillment and fruit IN THIS SEASON, not in some distant and undefined future, as it has seemed in the past. I see God's grace and blessing and provision like those nets full of balloons they often have at conferences or arena-sized celebrations. God's net is loaded with balloons of blessing, ready to drop. He's just waiting for someone to pull the string of faith to release them on us.

Pulling the string requires us to trust God like never before and to "march out boldly" in the direction of our dreams. But it doesn't follow that this is a hard thing. In the past season it may have seemed hard. No, it WAS hard. Now, however, God is so eager to meet us in this divinely ordained time that we needn't fear stepping out of our Egyptian comfort zones into the Great Unknown. The Promised Land is there waiting for us. And when we arrive, it will be so worth every step of faith we have taken in the dark, however small or tentative, every tear we have cried, every wall we have scaled and every prayer we have uttered. Soon we will sing along with the Israelites:

"I will sing to the Lord,
for he is highly exalted.
The horse and its rider
he has hurled into the sea.
The Lord is my strength and my song;
he has become my salvation."

In fact, for a great time of worship, go ahead and dance and sing the whole Song of Moses in Exodus 15. We might as well get in practice. Let's move on!

Where's the Cloud?

2007-01-10T10:07:00.000-05:00

I'm still gleaning juicy tidbits from Exodus 14. Just found a very encouraging morsel about God's constant guidance and protection--even when we can't see Him.

But back up for a moment to the end of Exodus 13. The Israelites have just begun their exodus from Egypt, and God has provided them a means of guidance in their journey. In verses 21 and 22 it says:

By day the Lord went ahead of them by a pillar of cloud to guide them on
their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they
could travel by day or night. Neither the pillar of cloud by day nor the
pillar of fire by night left its place in front of the people.

Great. But then they notice that the Egyptian armies are coming after them. Since they are trapped at the edge of the Red Sea, they panic and start accusing Moses of bringing them out into the wilderness to die. They think its all over. But that's when God instructs Moses to raise his staff over the sea and says he will part the sea for them to cross over. Then something interesting happens that I've not noticed before.

In verse 19-20, it says:

Then the angel of God, who had been traveling in front of Israel's army,
withdrew and went behind them. The pillar of cloud also moved from in
front and stood behind them. . . .

Put yourself in the Israelites' position at this point, especially those at the front of the crowd where the cloud had been. The Egyptians are closing in quickly, there's nothing but sea in front of you, and now your promised means of guidance has left, right when you needed it most. Many of them must have felt at first that God had abandoned them. Can you imagine their despair? (Judging from their initial response when they first saw the Egyptians, I'm not sure they were moving in a whole lot of faith that God would come through for them.)
As usual, however, God had method in His apparent madness. Verse 20 explains. It tells us that He moved to the rear in order to place Himself (in the cloud) between the armies of Egypt and Israel, and that throughout that night, the cloud brought darkness to the one side and light to the other side so that neither came near each other all night long. In reality, what they probably saw as God's abandonment was actually His sure defense. He placed Himself as a buffer between them and their deadly enemies, simultaneously making the way dark for those enemies, but giving light to His people in the midst of their ordeal.
How many times in our own lives, in those dark nights of the soul or simply in perplexing circumstances, has it seemed that God was nowhere in sight and strangly silent? And how tempting it is during those times to listen to the whisper of the enemy telling us that we have been abandoned in our need.
Oh, no. It is during those times that God is our greatest champion. It is at those times that He stands between us and our enemies, protecting us from all harm and giving us light while confounding them in darkness, and preparing us for a great victory.
All that night, the Lord sent a strong wind that pushed the sea back, making a dry highway for the Israelites to cross over. Throughout that very dark night, God was preparing their path of escape and ultimate victory. That same path proved the way of utter destruction to their enemies. Darkness to the one, light to the other.
Thank God for these wonderful illustrations of his ways. The pillar of cloud moved from where the Israelites thought it was suppposed to be. But in so doing, it provided protection from their enemies until God completely delivered them--and completely destroyed that enemy forever. We can trust Him in the dark times when we can't see or feel him to do the same for us.

Trapped with No Hope for Escape is the Best Place to Be

2007-01-03T10:41:00.000-05:00

I've been getting a lot out of Exodus 14 lately and want to write a few entries about it. This is the chapter where God splits the Red Sea for the Israelites exodus from Egypt.

At the beginning of the chapter, the Lord tells Moses to tell the people to "turn and camp before Pi Hahiroth, between Migdol and the sea, opposite Baal Zephon; you shall camp before the sea." It sounds like they had some forward momentum going, and then the Lord tells them to turn back and camp at this particular spot. This piqued my interest to see whether there was some spiritual meaning to the words Pi Hahiroth, Midgol and Baal Zephon.

From my brief research, it looks like these words are simply geographical locations. That was disappointing, until I realized the significance of that geographical position. At that particular place by the Red Sea, the Israelites were trapped. This fact was not lost on Pharaoh, who sent his armies out after them with a vengeance.

Why would God do something like this to His people when they were on their way to freedom in their Promised Land? Verse 4 has the answer: ". . .and I will gain honor over Pharaoh and over all his army, that the Egyptians may know that I am the Lord." His purpose was to display His glory as God, and in the process, completely destroy Israel's enemies. It doesn't get any better than that.

Of course, the Israelites didn't know this and weren't exactly full of faith at this point. All they could see was Pharaoh's chariots closing in on them, and they were scared to death. They thought they were going to die. Incidentally, they were REALLY mad at Moses for getting them into this mess, too--a good topic for another post. For now, it's important to note that, although they were terrified and in a real pickle, their situation was by God's design. Not for one moment was God surprised, nor was anything out of control. He had set them up in a perfect place to receive a spectacular miracle from His hand, to His glory and their own eternal benefit.

Verse 13 reports Moses telling the people, "Do not be afraid. Stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord, which He will accomplish for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall see again no more forever [emphasis added]." If they had not been trapped as they were and had had even the smallest way out on their own, perhaps by running from the Egyptians, they would have taken it, and missed their miracle. And they would forever after have had to look over their shoulders to see if Egypt was in pursuit. As it happened, God was able not only to get the Israelites out through the Red Sea, but He completely destroyed the enemy armies in the process. The Egyptians were not going to pop up again later. They were gone forever, never to be a concern for Israel again. This is God's way.

When we read this story, knowing the end in advance, it's easy to be critical and wonder why the Israelites didn't trust God and got in such a panic. But how often do we do the same thing in our own life situations, when our view is blocked by our own God-designed traps? God help us to see Him in the trap, and to rejoice in trust, knowing our miracle is about to happen. And may He get all the glory.

January 1, 2007 - Happy New Year!

2007-01-01T11:05:00.000-05:00

The first day of a new year seems like the perfect time to begin blogging, so here I go. Might as well start with some reflections on the old and new years.

I can't pretend that I am sorry to see the old year go. I think of it as a "bad year." In reality, 2006 was just like life in microcosm--great highs and great lows, punctuated by a lot of nondescript times. So although I'm not sentimental about its passing, I am certainly grateful to God for the good things of 2006, and for the growth that the good and the bad produced in my life.

When I look forward into 2007, I see challenges. Some of these will be thrust upon us by by life and world events, some offered to us by God to accept or reject.

In regard to this first type, I enter the new year with a subtle and unusual sense foreboding regarding events on the world stage. I have a strong sense of history, and usually look at trouble in the world with the attitude that the world has survived many crises and that "this, too, shall pass." But this year, I just sense that we may see some natural and/or geo-political troubles of an in-your-face nature that will shake us and force us to deal with them very directly. Right now, most Americans seem to be in denial about the threats we face from radical Islam, for example. More on that later. Suffice it to say that we need a wake-up call, and I pray that it our dullness won't necessitate another 9/11, or worse, to make us see reality. I just feel that we need to, as the Bible says, be sober, vigilant and gird our minds for action in the year ahead.

That brings me to the second type of challenge mentioned above, the one put to us by God. For weeks now, I've been feeling strongly that God wants to pour out on his people fresh grace and favor for three things in particular: physical healing; financial and material provision for the things he's called us to do, individually and as the church; and overcoming spiritual, mental, and material obstacles to achieving those things that we know we are called to do, but haven't been able to do in the past. This applies to both life accomplishments and character deficiencies and sin patterns. The challenge lies in whether we will take what He is offering to us. It's as if He is saying, "If you will just put your toe in the water in faith, I will part the waters of your Red Sea, and you will pass through it with ease." This may sound cliche, but it's a fresh thing, in which the proverbial "faith as a grain of mustard seed" will truly move the mountains in our lives, our churches, and even our nation. God not only will respond to our faith, He is eager respond to our faith in a big way. He's not asking for much, just faith evidenced by a small step in the direction of our dreams and toward engagement of our foes.

So if we meet the scary and difficult challenges that the world thrusts upon us by taking up the wonderful challenge that God is offering us, 2007 has the potential to be our finest hour. God is giving us a special window of opportunity to overcome with a divine ease, by grace through faith, our personal demons and gain forward momentum toward our God-given goals, as individuals and as the church. For our nation and its difficulties, this is a chance for the church to carry a torch of faith, courage and resolve for our fellow citizens and the world to follow. As the old hymn says, "Let courage rise with danger."

Am I looking forward to 2007? Absolutely. It may not be our easiest year ever, but it can certainly be our most glorious. How wonderful it will be, on January 1, 2008, to look back and thank God for all He has done in and through us, and to lay our victories at His feet.