Hearts On Fire

Emmaus was our final stop before returning home from the Holy Land. No one is absolutely sure of its location, but archaeologists have it narrowed down to a small area 6-7 miles west of Jerusalem. We had traveled over a week. Inspired and exhausted we found ourselves listening to a story in the book of Luke about the two who were walking along the road to Emmaus from Jerusalem, discussing all that had taken place  - Passover, Crucifixion, and now the talk of Jesus' body missing. Broken-hearted, they wondered what it all meant as they traveled home.

Jesus (unrecognized by the two) comes along and begins a conversation that really sends them over the edge.  He acts like he knows nothing of what they have been discussing and they are amazed when he asks them to explain. They proceed to tell him about how they had hoped he was the Messiah. Jesus then begins to teach them. As they get closer to home, the travelers beg Jesus to come home with them. As they sit to dine, Jesus blesses the food and "their eyes are opened". They recognize it is the risen Jesus and at that moment, he disappears.

What!

Just when they realize it's Jesus, he vanishes. It must have broken their hearts, discovering they did not recognize him.. looking back at their time, scripture says their hearts "burned" as they were talking to him.

Think about it. Caught up in their sadness, thinking about the events of their day, meeting this person who stays with them and teaches them, comes home with them, breaks bread with them, and then poof - he's gone. Oh, if only they had known.....

Looking back to that day in Emmaus, I think I know why many of us had tears in our eyes as we finished that story.There we stood, 2000+ years later and our hearts were "burning" as well. Maybe we thought about the times we too had experienced the Holy One but only to realize it later. We missed our time with Jesus because we were focused on the news of the day.

In her beautiful book The Hidden Life Awakened, Betty Skinner explains why the teaching of Jesus might make our hearts burn. She says, "Jesus is not primarily a teacher of information or morals. His teachings go much deeper than that. He is a teacher of a way or a path that leads to change and transformation and a new heart brought about by a surrendered life deeply centered in God. Jesus challenges us to abandon the wide, easy path of conventional wisdom and embark on the long, difficult, and narrow path of divine wisdom that leads those of us who choose to follow away from temporal values centered in ourselves toward eternal values centered in God. He is always lovingly and compassionately inviting His followers to a different way of seeing and living."

Today it is still hard for us to recognize Christ as he walks along with us. We don't  recognize him because we are focused on all the worldly things that seem so important.

 But if we look closely as this deadly health crisis continues, we see God's light shining so generously all around us. As I watch a glimpse of the news, tears come to my eyes - just a culmination of all the pain and sorrow and struggle and loss and wondering how is this going to get better? And then, out of nowhere, I get a glimpse of the Holy. Maybe my heart burns a little. But it is a training process to watch for the presence of Christ in our lives and on the news. We have to seek it. Look for it. Allow nature to fill us with wonder. Listen for the gentle words, the kind spirits, the soft eyes, and always, always look for the light.

"I am the light of the world. whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." John 8:12

On Writing The Personal Note

She's writing more notes these days. She has always written lots of notes, but sheltering has given her more time to put her thoughts into words as she encourages others.

I mean who doesn't like to reach in the mailbox and pull out a hand-written note? Whether it's a thank-you, a get-well wish, or a seasonal celebration, the hand-written note is always special. But the one letter that is often hard to write for all of us is the letter of condolence.

This note takes more time and thought so we put it off. 

It takes compassion and courage so we back away. 

We simply do not know what to say so we don’t say anything.

And the weeks go by and we begin to feel guilty and the note goes unwritten. 

And we feel ashamed .

This morning I sat down and composed a letter to a friend who recently lost her husband. While I have not had that experience, I know loss. I wanted my words to convey an understanding, yet an acknowledgement of respect for her grief.  I wanted her to know some of my memories of her loved one and what I prayed for her. I felt comfortable in sharing a bit of my own loss, but only as it could relate to hers. I had to think hard about that – you know, to not make it about me. I had to say those simple words, “I am sorry for your loss.”

Maybe you have found yourself floundering for the right words to say in a time of loss. But finding the right words does not mean using too many words. Sometimes less is more when sincerity and thought are utilized.  Spend some time  with your heart, thinking about what you really want to say. 

Here are a few suggestions for writing that letter.

1.       Be prompt in your writing, but also remember that often a note written months later can be timely for the recipient. I often receive notes that could not be better timed. When you feel the nudge, get to work.

2.       Use the name of the person often. The receiver appreciates hearing the name of their loved one. Recall something you shared together. Create a memory. Make them smile through your words.

3.       Never refer to yourself as it relates to their experience. This is not about you. For example, do not say, “I just cannot imagine what you are going through” or “I don’t see how you can go through this” or “I know you are stronger in your faith than me.”

4.       Never give advice unless you are asked and then be very careful with your answers.

5.       Only offer scriptures and religious quotes that mean a great deal to YOU. Maybe it is something you found meaningful or you memorized. Please….save the sermons for church. 

6.       A card is often the most appropriate choice with a personalized sentence or two. Don’t feel you must always write a letter.  And keep some generic sympathy cards on hand.

7.       Remembering an anniversary is very special. It doesn’t have to arrive on the actual date, but receiving a note that says, “I know this month brings many memories. I am thinking of you” is a reminder to that person that others do remember and care.

We have this writing opportunity laid before us more often than we would like.  Today is the perfect day to sit down and write a letter to someone. There are people you know who would benefit from getting a note from you. Who are they? The question becomes, “Will we take the challenge and respond to those around us who need an encouraging word? Will we take the time to search our own souls to find the compassion and courage it takes to reach out? Can we pause long enough to discover who we are, unmasking our own feelings and  fears? We must learn to understand our own hearts and then reaching out becomes a natural overflow. 

And the words come.

 1 Thessalonians 5:11 "Encourage each other and build each other up."

Tools for Captivity

Do you feel as if you are being held captive?  I do.  After talking to several friends over the weekend, we confessed to each other we were all feeling a little agitation, maybe some impatience with all this uncertainty in our lives. We're being asked to stay at home.  For some of us that might be the last place we want to be.  For others, it's a good change of pace and we are discovering all that we love about being home.

Whatever the feelings, they certainly are unusual and confining.

There is a story in the Bible book of Jeremiah about moving ahead with your life when you are in captivity. Jeremiah encourages the Israelite's to try to move ahead with their lives in the midst of their captivity in Babylon.

"Build homes and plan to stay: plant vineyards, foryou will be there many years. Marry and have children, and then find mates for them and have many grandchildren. Multiply! Don't dwindle away! And work for the peace and prosperity of Babylon. Pray for her, for if Babylon has peace, so will you."

As the commentary says, "Life cannot grind toa halt during troubling times. We must adjust and try to keep moving. And if we find it difficult to pray for those in authority or the situation itself, work at it even harder. Do what you can to prosper."

I like that. In other words, "Stop your complaining and get to work!"

So today, I did what I could to prosper - I worked in the garden. It seems to be the place where I can always find meaningful work.   And while I cannot solve the problems of today, digging in dirt seems to help me work my way to a mental rest that soothes my soul and calms my anxious heart.

Today I transplanted Cast Iron Plants and Autumn Ferns that had grown  into a tangled mess near the watering hose.  My garden advisor keeps telling me we need to get rid of this mess because a snake is going to greet me one day and it won't be pleasant. So I gathered my tools and headed to the challenge before me. After poking around and making sure there were in fact no snakes to greet me, I managed to dig and divide the "mess" into a pleasing arrangement of  five new plants along a retaining wall. In only 3-5 years it will be lush and just as I envisioned it - these things take time.

Had I not owned a good shovel with a sharp edge, it might not have been so easy.  Sometimes we take for granted the things we have on hand to make a situation better.  Some of my best garden projects or even meals have come about by looking around, taking inventory of the tools I have and then letting the creative juices flow into a new creation.

What is it that we say? We can't do anything about our captivity, but we can do something about how we respond. Viktor Frankl, the Austrian neurologist who survived the Holocaust and authored Man's Search for Meaning said, " When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves."

So,my question to you is what are you changing? What are you doing to prosper?

And when we do not know what to do, we can always reread the story of Jehoshaphat who said, "We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon you (God)." II Chronicles 20:12.

And I am looking up.

Learning to Pray

           Sometimes we need someone to show us how to pray. Someone who can say what we are thinking when we cannot put our jumbled thoughts into words.   This morning, we opened up the daily prayer from our church, Peachtree Road Methodist, here in Atlanta. Rev. Darren Hensley teaches us to pray. Thank you, Darren.

Eternal and Merciful God,

Easter has come and gone, and for many, it’s beginning to set in that this time of pandemic is more a marathon than a sprint. We feel unsettled and anxious as old routines and daily rhythms have been disrupted and displaced by new ones. Yet, familiar patterns remain at hand—from daily prayer and reading scripture, to completing ordinary tasks, to moments with family. And new discoveries present themselves—from sharing three meals together to finding time to reconnect with old friends or long-­forgotten memories. Most of us are still sheltering in our homes—yet we are not stuck, but staying safe. Help us to be patient. May we be grateful for the blessings of life, for food to eat, for health, for warmth, for loved ones.

Let us remember and pray for individuals unable to be at home during these days—the sick and suffering and those persons caring for them, scientists and doctors hard at work seeking treatment therapies and a vaccine, and people who are simply going to their jobs every day serving in our communities. We pray for individuals feeling sad, alone, or overwhelmed—and we pray for the persons who reach out to them offering words and gestures of reassurance, compassion, and hope—counselors, ministers, teachers, and friends. Thank You for the people who help us, and may we, in turn, be a blessing unto others.

We pray for young people preparing to graduate whose dreams of milestones and jobs have been crushed. For persons who have lost employment and wonder how they will pay their bills. For individuals struggling to obtain food for themselves and their families. For farmers unable to harvest. We pray for the children.

O God, looking into an uncertain future, many of us feel afraid. But, the world is more than we know. Having just passed by the foot of the Cross, we believe that Your Son took on the sorrows, fear, and despair of the world. For You are ever in the midst of life in its fullness, and through Jesus’ death and resurrection You offer us new life, eternal life, even now. The good news resonates around us: “He is risen!”

This time has reminded us how fragile life can be—yet how precious and important we are, for Your love endures. O God, open our hearts so that we may be aware of Your presence. Let us learn anew, to appreciate, to notice what truly matters. Let us know empathy, encouragement, and purpose, for the gift of resurrection carries with it a mission to share Your message of love. As empowered by the Holy Spirit, let us embrace this moment, marshal our resources, and meet the challenges we face. One day, this pandemic will subside, and when we look back on this time we will know You have been where You always are and will be—for as Jesus said, I am with you even unto the end of time.

It is in the name of our risen and living Lord and Savior we pray, Amen.

Looking for Signs

It is a small world.

This morning I received a blog post from a beautiful couple from India. They are in the travel business and I had the privilege to have dinner with them several years ago. To encourage their community, he wrote:

“As all of us around the globe self-isolate into quietude, we are reminded of humanity’s interconnectivity....We are all going back to our roots, to our friends and loved ones on an inner journey to reconnect with life’s simplicities that sometimes pass us by.”

I could write about any part of that quote – inner journey, quietude, reconnecting with simplicity…you pick one.

Easter morning, I rose early before daylight, lighting a single candle for my sunrise service of one.  It was there I read about the women coming before daylight to the tomb only to find that Jesus was gone. According to the story, Mary Magdalene lingered at the tomb.  Scripture says she looked in again – maybe thinking she had missed him.  Instead of finding Jesus, two angels greeted her and asked her why she was crying and who was it she was looking for.  She still lingered. Then Jesus appeared to her, but she thought him to be the gardener. And she pleaded with “the gardener” to just tell her what he had done with the body and she would go and get it. Then he said her name. Stunned, her eyes were opened and she recognized her Lord.

 And then he was gone.

Here is where I considered walking outside to my garden, putting myself in Mary’s place, looking for Jesus, wondering if I might have an encounter such as hers. Looking back on the day, I wish I had, but I was simply too comfortable in my chair, wrapped in a throw, savoring my coffee.  My quiet.

Or maybe I was afraid that He wouldn’t show up for me in the form of some sign, some message of hope, some reassurance of His love and authority over me. 

But this morning I did walk out after a night of storms in Atlanta and was rewarded by the bloom of the first Siberian Iris. Maybe this was my sign. Oh, how I wish they would linger a while in my garden. Like Mary, I wish they would stay with me for a while.

Ecclesiastes gives us words that remind us there is a time for everything. 

Time to enjoy the blooms.

Just don’t let them pass you by.

Ecclesiastes 3

There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under the heavens:

²     a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

³     a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

⁴     a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

⁵     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

⁶     a time to search and a time to give up,

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

⁷     a time to tear and a time to mend,

a time to be silent and a time to speak,

⁸     a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and a time for peace.

Christ is Risen!

Christ is Risen! 

The words of Henri Nouwen....

Easter Season is a time of hope. There still is fear, there still is a painful awareness of sinfulness, but there also is light breaking through. Something new is happening, something that goes beyond the changing moods of our life.  We can be joyful or sad, optimistic or pessimistic, tranquil or angry, but the solid stream of God's presence moves deeper than the small waves of our minds and hearts.

Easter brings the awareness that God is present even when his presence is not directly noticed.

Easter brings the good news that, although things seem to get worse in the world, the Evil One has already been overcome.

 Easter allows us to affirm that although God seems very distant and although we remain preoccupied with many little things, our Lord walks with us on the road and keeps explaining the Scriptures to us.

There are many rays of hope casting their light on our way through life.

Almighty, everlasting God,

on this day

you conquered death through your son 

and opened for us the path to eternal life.

And so we celebrate in joy

the feast of his resurrection.

Make us new through your Spirit, 

so that we too may rise and walk in the light of life.

Amen.

Waiting....

On this quiet Saturday after Good Friday I feel "broken-hearted and crushed" for all those who are fighting the fight of this pandemic - health care workers, victims of the virus, victims who have been economically stressed, governments working overtime, families lives being changed forever.

I am sure the followers of Jesus felt the same way. The  dead body of Christ had been taken to a tomb  Friday before sundown by Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus. The women went home to prepare spices and perfume for the body. Since it was their Sabbath, there was nothing else they could do. They did what they could to prepare and they waited for the first day of the week.

Isn't that what we are all doing today? Waiting. Preparing. Wondering about so much. Trying to be normal when nothing is normal.

And as we wait and wonder, we try to do things that are necessary and meaningful.  And hopefully, these things take on new purpose. We read more and think longer about what we have read.  We make sandwich lunches for shelters where life is hard to begin with and we feel guilty about the luxury of a kitchen.We clean out a closet - and we realize we have way too much.  We drive somewhere necessary only to discover how nice it is to not have traffic. We learn how to Zoom or order groceries online - and we discover new technology skills.  We clean and disinfect - and we wonder how we have managed to live this long.

I have never been so prepared in my kitchen. For people who like to plan the evening meal two hours ahead and then make the necessary stops to get just the right ingredients, the food prep has gotten fairly streamlined. The grocery list is well thought out. I mean, the Easter coconut cake was made a few days ago.  A protein and a salad or veggies reign supreme. Leftovers become lunch. Nothing is wasted.

So how is this waiting going for you? Are you making the best of it?  When this is past - and it will pass -  will you look back and remember all the good that came of it or will you regret wasting your time in worry?

"Peace does not dwell in outward things but in the heart prepared to wait trustfully and quietly on Him who has all things safely in His hands....Jesus had perfect trust in His Father, whose will He had come to accomplish.  Nothing touched Him without His Father's permission. Nothing touches me without my Father's permission. Can I not then wait patiently? He will show the way."
Elisabeth Elliot

Good Friday - Bad Week

It was Good Friday 2009, but it had been a bad week for me.  After six, long months, I was missing my child, struggling with little energy, little hope, and little strength to keep trudging through the arduous work of grief.  I had just finished about the 100^th book on the subject – this one by Paula D’Arsy who says that the bad times are a real good sign that healing is occurring – that one is moving through it and not stuck somewhere in the process.  Looking back it was, in fact, a turning point.

Mike asked if I wanted to go to the Good Friday service at church.  That was about the last thing I wanted to do - go and think about Jesus' death. It was all too raw, too real, too close.  "Well," he tried again, "Would you want to go to the golf course? Just walk a few holes?" I knew he was trying to help me feel better. I said that would be nice. Nature always lifts my spirits.

We were finishing up on the final hole when I just happened to look up to the sky.  I motioned to Mike and there above us were five – yes, five – snow white doves circling above our heads. For a few seconds, it was like they were frozen in mid-air - holding their position just for us. They lighted on the clubhouse and watched as we finished and then took flight.  

And then I remembered the song,

“On the wings of a snow-white dove

  He sends His pure sweet love

  A sign from above

  On the wings of a dove.”

Curious, I asked several people and no one had ever seen white doves at our golf course. 

Was it a sign from above - for me - on Good Friday? 

I read that often white doves are bred and trained for something called “White Dove Releases” where they are let go at special occasions like weddings or memorials, and the smart birds then return to their homes. I learned later there was a farm close by where homing pigeons were trained and released. I like to think this little band of five were delivering us a message, sending us “His pure sweet love, a sign from above on the wings of a dove.”  

My heart is always softened by the beautiful vulnerability of nature – the total dependency of creation waiting for God to reveal himself.  The Bible speaks of doves – one returned to Noah with an olive branch as a message of life, doves were used for sacrifices, and a the Holy Spirit, like a dove, descended on Jesus at His baptism.  So why would God not allow nature to speak to us? When human words, books, and therapy often do not work, a bird can say more words to me than Webster, just in their dependency, and their varied and constant message of hope.  

 It is in looking up we see. 

 Emily Dickinson wrote, 

“Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words

And never stops at all.”

.  Five white doves above me said, “Look at my wings, waving down pure sweet love from above.  We will be together again - all five of us.  All is well!”

But today is Good Friday 2020. I  won't be going to church this year either, but instead will go outside and give thanks for life today.  Still, I must look up to the cross. Jesus consistently and lovingly says, "Look what I did for you. I gave my life. And that was hard too. You've got this. We'll be together again. Stay with me."

I Hate The Corona Virus!

"The Lord is close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." 

Psalm 34:18

     (This post was published 7 years ago.  I have added some timely thoughts, but for the most part, some things just never change. The cross pictured is perched against a tree in my front yard. A man who is out of work because of the Corona Virus can't make them fast enough.)

Today I drove by a house that had a sign in the front that said, "We're Fighting Cancer Inside." Another sign said, "Honk If You Hate Cancer." Part of me wants to simply lay on the horn and keep it on all the way down the street. For it is not just in one home, but many homes. Many hospitals. I want to blare the horn so long and loud that my friend several states away receiving treatment can hear me cry out, "I hate cancer!"

And today we all cry out, "I hate the Corona Virus."

I have not had cancer nor the Corona Virus (to date), but I would think that when the diagnosis is given, the first thoughts of the patient might include, "Well this is it. This is what will get me." Fortunately today, cancer and viruses are being fought fiercely through innovative treatments and new medicine. There is hope. And there is full recovery.

But in reality, sometimes there is not recovery. Sometimes we fight and fight, but in the end, we are overtaken by death. When my daughter received her diagnosis, there was no hope - maybe a few months of life to live, but in the end, her disease would kill her. Oh, we prayed for a miracle. We prayed for a mistaken diagnosis. We prayed for healing. But Megan's time on earth was done. God allowed her to come to Him and we were all left here to try and make sense of it.

That's when God came close to me, the broken-hearted one. That's when God drew near to me - the one who was crushed in spirit. I loved the Lord Jesus and said no matter what, I would not turn my back on the God I loved. That was 12 years ago. And I still love the God who did not heal my child.

Mad? No. (Well, not any more)

Sad? At times.

Full of questions? Sometimes.

Hopeful? Always.

Why? Because Jesus overcame this mystery called death. Jesus is alive and because He lives, when I die I will also live because I trust in the One who overcame death on the cross of Easter.

How can I be so sure? Scripture says so.

Do I believe it? Every single word.

How can I be so sure? I keep on reading, praying, and trusting. It's faith.

If you have received some kind of diagnosis, know someone who has, or are mourning the loss of a loved one, God's promises are all true. They are available to be received the minute your heart is broken - even before it is crushed.

Let Him come near today.

Dwelling Together - Or Sheltering in Place

Think about it…all the days of your life, dwelling together, and in the care of your great Shepherd.

Or, is the Lord your great Shepherd?

Who could walk away from goodness and mercy and life with Christ forever, and yet, many do walk away.  Peter certainly did – not just once, but three times he denied even knowing Jesus – someone who had walked daily beside his master. The beautiful passage in John 21 takes new meaning in our final thoughts of sheep and shepherds. The entire chapter is rich in restoration.

Three times Jesus refers to us as sheep when he asks Peter three times if he loves him.

“Do you truly love me? Do you really love Jesus? Are you even his friend?”

After answering yes, Jesus instructs Peter, 

“Feed my lambs, take care of my sheep, and feed my sheep.”

I am followed by goodness and mercy even when, like Peter, I am tempted to bolt and run away from his care. But for “goodness and mercy” to follow us throughout life, we must follow the Shepherd (like Peter learned). Sometimes following is hard—especially when we’re hurting. It’s easy to say, “God, I followed you. I obeyed you.  So why did you allow our lives to be shattered?”

As we close our few days of immersing ourselves in Psalm 23, I probably will never think of this passage in the same way. While I always thought of it as a comforting psalm, now I know it as a psalm about life at its fullest. Life in luscious pastures and life in dark and scary valleys. Life with cooling water and life surrounded by enemies. Life of restoration and life of anointing. The cup of sorrow ....the cup of joy. The final verse of this beautiful Psalm creates an image of going home  with the shepherd to the safety of the fold after a day of grazing in the pasture—a day filled with problems and enemies, annoyances and sorrows, yet surrounded with comfort and peace.

I feel that way today - even in the midst of this pandemic.  I hope you do too.

The Lord is the giver of all life. Our Lord, our Shepherd, who we walk with these final weeks of Lent, came to bring life and life abundantly to us.  And now, we have work to do.

Who will take care of His sheep?

Oh, Lord, must you ask me three times if I love you?

My cup overflows....

My cup overflows. Psalm 23:5

      

Pause for a while …just let yourself feel these words become truth in your life.

As I type these words from another room, I hear my granddaughter’s little voice singing “Ba-Ba- Black Sheep” as she quiets herself for nap time. I guess it’s one of those God-wink moments – all this writing about sheep and shepherds. As her singing helps her to drift off in slumber, I personally find it a soothing sedative here in my office. I am rich in this love of a two-year old. 

Truly, my cup overflows.

As much as I want to protect and shield this child, I know my little granddaughter will face some difficulty in her life. She’ll be disappointed. Things will make her cry and hurt. But the reality is in every life there will be storms. Even in the best of times, shepherds could find their flock and themselves in trouble with the weather. A fierce storm could quickly chill a small lamb, causing it to become immobile and dejected. But the shepherd would know how to help. He would provide his cup of wine mixed with water for the animal to drink. This would warm and revive them until the storm passed.

Jesus referred to his agony in the garden as His cup. In Luke 22:42 He prayed, “Father, if it be Thy will, take this cup from me.” We must try to picture Christ, his overflowing life poured out on the cross for us. To warm, to heal, to save. To fill us with overflowing love. No matter what storms we face, the life of Christ and his strength are poured into me. They overflow from him into me….my cup runs over with His life, given to me to share with others. The cup of joy and the cup of sorrow, all mixed into one.

On the Sundays when I am honored to help serve Communion, it is deeply emotional to look into the eyes of my church family and say to them, “This is the cup of salvation, poured out for you.”

“There is always something “over.”

 When we trust our gracious Lord; 

 Every cup is overflowing, 

 His great rivers all are broad.

 Nothing narrow, nothing sparing, 

 Ever springing from His store;

 To His own he gives full measure, 

 overflowing evermore.”

 (Margaret Barber)

God, you fill me with your overflowing love. You revive me from the storms.

Come To The Table

I’m reading this verse over and over. God provides for and protects me in full view of my enemies.

For a shepherd, the table was a high plateau, or mesa, where the flock would spend the summer months.  It took some preparation and the shepherd would go several times to remove poisonous weeds, clear away rocks, check out water supplies and resting places. The preparation was done with the full knowledge the wild predators were watching the movement of the flock, just waiting for the time to attack.  

We are always in danger of attack – something is out to get us. Who among us will not remember COVID 19, or the terms "sheltering in place" or "social distancing." We are being attacked. Our world is under attack.

Scripture refers to Satan as a “roaring lion” always looking for someone to devour.  Our family felt that attack when our oldest daughter was diagnosed with a rare and incurable disease. Satan was surely out to devour not only her, but our whole family. I hate Satan.

Despite the pain of loss and raging grief, I knew a “table” was prepared for us in the presence of  our enemy. How? Love poured into our home. Nature provided a daily miraculous show if we could see through our tears. Oh, the enemy was real and present, but the feast of God’s presence overpowered the attack. To this day, I do not understand it, but I believe it.

You might say it was the daily anointing of oil that slowly healed us. The shepherd would apply oil to the noses of his sheep to keep away a certain, dangerous fly. If this fly was not deterred, the inflammation could cause the animal to go blind or even kill itself by thrashing its head on the ground.

I can relate to the sheep here as there were many thrashing days when I needed a double dose of God’s anointing oil.

Staying close to our heavenly Shepherd is the only way to overcome the attacks of the roaring lion. Staying close is the only way to remain at the table and be nurtured by God’s provision.

L.B. Cowan who penned Streams in the Desert wrote, “We often pray to be delivered from afflictions, and even trust God that we will be. But we do not pray for Him to make us what we should be while in the midst of the afflictions. Nor, do we pray that we would be able to live within them, for however long they may last, in complete awareness that we are held and sheltered by the Lord and can therefore continue within them without suffering any harm.” 

You might say, "But Megan died. She suffered harm, did she not?" Yes, her body suffered physically.  But as I understand this, Megan sat at the Lord's table - the feast of His fellowship. I can see her in the picture having a picnic with Jesus.

There’s one more thought…we are all invited to the prepared table because God gave us His only Son. (John 3:16) We have been invited to the feast of His fellowship. And if we receive that fellowship and accept it in gratitude and humility, we then can continue in our afflictions. 

This Holy Week, may we walk with Christ to the Cross in gratitude for his invitation to the table.

God, help us to live within our afflictions, knowing we are sheltered by you. Help us to embrace them, trusting that by doing so, they can be transformed into something that gives you glory.

Day 3 - The 23rd Psalm

We were on a family vacation, driving through Wyoming. Entering the Shoshone Canyon late in the afternoon, we were spellbound by the lengthening shadows playing off the huge rocks on all side of us. Despite the grandeur and beauty of it all, I had this ominous feeling of smallness and vulnerability, maybe a touch of fear. My husband said if I would focus on the grassy meadows and meandering river it would be less daunting. I could take in the breathtaking experience, knowing soon I would be safely through the canyon.

The valley, for the shepherd, is the way to provide the sloping paths that generally have a water supply as they move to higher grazing. As the sheep move, yes, there are storms, floods, predators, but despite the dangers, the shepherd knows this is the best way to higher ground. And for us, we discover that in the valley of despair, a source of courage and strength is found when we place our focus on our shepherd instead of the looming shadows surrounding us.

Whatever valley one walks through, it is comforting to have the protection of the rod and the staff. These two tools of the shepherd are symbolic, according to Philip Keller, of God’s Word and the Holy Spirit. The rod was an extension of the shepherd’s hand and a symbol of strength, authority, protection and discipline – a true comfort to a wayward little sheep. Can you think of the rod as spoken word of God, the activity of God’s mind and will concerning his people? What a comfort to know that staying in God’s Word can be a protection over us as we face the darkness. 

The staff is a symbol of comfort, symbolic of the Holy Spirit. The staff would lift a newborn lamb to its feet, gather the sheep together, or single one out for examination or comfort. The staff was a source of direction and guidance.

Maybe this verse takes on new meaning. Read it with fresh eyes and know that you are never alone because God is with you. His Word and His Holy Spirit is a comfort to you.

The valley doesn’t seem as dark. We are not alone.

Heavenly Father, your Word and your Spirit are all I need. Teach me to rely on you.

Day 2 - The 23rd Psalm

He restores my soul; he guides me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.   Psalm 23:3

Take a moment. What do you think of when you consider the words “restores my soul”?

Maybe you have restored an old piece of furniture, or maybe a car. Whatever is restored, I think of being put back together, like Humpty Dumpty who had the great fall. As a shepherd, David had times of being broken and he mused several times in Psalm 42:11 “Why art thou cast down, O my soul?” I always thought this meant discouraged, but if we look further, we find that “cast down” has another meaning when it comes to working with sheep. Cast is a term given to a sheep who has found himself on his back unable to get up. It can happen when the sheep lies down, and trying to get comfortable, he rummages around. His weight shifts and before he knows it, he is flat on his back. His legs frantically shake and if not found within a few hours, death can occur naturally or by predators watching close by. The shepherd wastes no time, getting his sheep to one side, and then slowly he brings him to his feet, rubbing his legs to increase circulation, watching him closely until he is strong and upright again.

Can you apply this to your own life? When have you been “on your back” unable to make things right? Maybe you literally find yourself in bed with an illness. Maybe you’ve been struck with tragedy and grief. Maybe yours is a financial set-back. Maybe you are just "sheltering at home."

The good news is we have a shepherd who comes to restore us and upright our position. Throughout the New Testament, we see Jesus as the Good Shepherd, restoring the man with leprosy, restoring Peter’s Mother-in-law, restoring Lazarus, and so many others. As Isaiah 53:4 says about the Christ, “Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows.”

And once we are restored, we can walk in The Paths of Righteousness for his name’s sake. The paths of righteousness are the opposite of doing what I want. Does not Isaiah 53:6 say “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned everyone to his own way?” It seems that way often– all of us going in so many different directions. Which direction do we go?  Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, the life; no man cometh onto the Father except by me (John 14:6). 

Jesus made it clear that following Him would require a rugged life of self-denial, a new set of attitudes.  Too hard? I agree, except for the fact that he gave us his Holy Spirit to lead and to guide.

Will I go my own way?

Or will I follow the Shepherd?

Oh, God, so often I find myself needing your restoration. Why do I go astray so much?

"The Lord Is My Shepherd. I Have Everything I Need"

Spend some time the next 6 days thinking about this familiar Psalm.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters.” Psalm 23:1-2

Linger over this verse a while and try to put it into your own words. Read it again…this time slower.

Phillip Keller in his beautiful book A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 says, “It Is no accident God calls us his sheep. The behavior of sheep and humans is so similar. Our mob instincts, our fears and timidity, our stubbornness and stupidity, our perverse habits are all parallels of profound importance. Yet, Christ chooses us, calls us by name, and delights in caring for us.”

What a generous God!

In the Hidden Life Awakened book study recently completed at Peachtree Road, we were asked to read the 23^rd Psalm every day, creating a little space in our life for God. The authors said, “The Psalms are a refuge of honest prayer, full of every joyous, negative, fearful and even murderous emotion, but always undergirded with hope and praise.” So, as we shared with each other what the Psalms were saying to us, we were amazed at how God was speaking to various, individual needs in our group. For me, the first part of this verse says, “I am completely satisfied with the Lord’s management of my life. I have everything I need.”

He provides for me green pastures and wants me to rest in them; but green pastures don’t just happen. A good shepherd will provide the pastureland for his sheep, improving the soil and making sure there is fresh water. Christ, our shepherd has spent time clearing away rocks of unbelief, tearing out thorns of bitterness and hurt, planting the seeds of His precious Word and watering the green pastures with His Holy Spirit. In other words, not only do I have everything I need, but He has gone out of his way to prepare a beautiful place for me to live. His concern for my care is beyond comprehension.

And as you linger over “He leadeth me beside the quiet waters” what images come to your mind?

Just as the physical body of a sheep has the need for water, so Scripture points out to us that the human soul has a need for the water of the Spirit of Eternal God. Psalm 42:1 says, “As the deer pants for streams of water so my soul pants for you.” But oftentimes, we wander like thirsty sheep, and find ourselves drinking out of dangerous, polluted waters. How can we avoid that? 

Sheep, by habit, rise early before dawn and feed on the dew-drenched grass.  And so it is for us -it is in the early morning hours our Shepherd waits to lead us beside the quiet, still waters of feeding on God’s word. We can go into our day nourished, contented, and refreshed.

Father, draw me to you in the early morning hours. I long for green pastures and quiet waters.

From My Window......Keep The Skyward Look

"We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you."

This morning, our reading from Streams In The Desert  read, "You should get into the habit of looking for the silver lining of storm clouds. And once you have found it, continue to focus on it rather that the dark gray of the center.  Do not yield to discouragement no matter how severely stressed or surrounded by problems you may be.  A discouraged soul is in a helpless state, neither able to stand against the storm or prevail in prayer for others. Flee every symptom of discouragement as you would run from a snake. Never be slow to turn your back on it, unless you desire to eat the dust of bitter defeat."

The author went on to tell a beautiful story:

"On a day in the autumn, I saw a prairie eagle mortally wounded by a rifle shot. His eye still gleamed like a circle of light. Then he slowly turned his head, and gave one more searching and longing look at the sky. He had often swept those starry spaces with his wonderful wings. The beautiful sky was the home of his heart. It was the eagle's domain. A thousand times he had exploited there his splendid strength. In those far away heights be had played with the lightnings, and raced with the winds, and now, so far away from home, the eagle lay dying, done to the death, because for once be forgot and flew too low. The soul is that eagle. This is not its home. It must not lose the skyward look. We must keep faith, we must keep hope, we must keep courage, we must keep Christ. We would better creep away from the battlefield at once if we are not going to be brave. There is no time for the soul to stampede. Keep the skyward look, my soul; keep the skyward look!"

David Jeremiah, a favorite speaker of mine, addresses the current crisis from a Biblical perspective. He says we must concentrate on prayer and control our minds.  In his talk he refers to the passage in II Chronicles 20 where Jehoshaphat was about to be attacked by the enemy. Jehoshaphat cried out, " Are you not the God who is in Heaven? You rule over the nations. Power and might are yours. If calamity comes upon us, whether the sword or plague or famine, we will stand in your presence and cry out to you in our distress and you will hear us and save us....we have no power against this enemy.  We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you."

Now that was sort of paraphrased, but I remember when Megan was in Piedmont Hospital here in Atlanta and she was being attacked by a vicious disease. We did not know what to do.  The doctors did not know what to do. But our eyes were on God. 

This is an another attack and we are all in a state of not knowing what to do. But we can concentrate on prayer and control our minds.  I'm working on it. 

Solitude

"Solitude liberates us from entanglements by carving out
a space from which we can see ourselves and our situation before the Audience of One. Solitude provides the private place where we can take our bearings and so make God our North Star."
(Os Guinness)


Solitude. It's what we often say we long for, but we run when the opportunity presents itself. When a friend asked me how I was doing sequestered at home in the midst of our world crisis I had to say things had not changed for me too much. That was a week ago. I am not gainfully employed. I like to garden, read, and act busy in my office. We don't eat out much, but enjoy being creative in the kitchen. I can handle a quiet life. Or so I think.

But things have changed as the death toll in the US continues to rise - today 4500.  Today I watched a video on disinfecting all food containers that are brought into the kitchen. I was asked to limit my grocery shopping to every two weeks ( I normally go every other day.) I was warned the virus could be on the bottom of our shoes and we should take them off upon entering our home. This part I watched while my feet (in their shoes) were propped on the coffee table. More disinfecting.

No. This is solitude with guidelines for survival and I have to say, it's frightening. No wonder I saw a million apps advertised on Facebook for calming the spirit and getting us through the night. I read somewhere that there are 365 Bible references for not being afraid. This might be a good exercise - to look up every reference and claim them daily. Who will volunteer? And will you send them to me?

Henri Nouwen says, " Solitude begins with a time and place for God, and God alone. If we really believe not only that God exists but also that He is actively present in our lives - healing, teaching, guiding - we need to set aside a time and space to give Him our undivided attention."

This might be that time in our life when we look at God for a long time and allow Him to look at us. Maybe it's something He has been wanting to do for a long time, but we've been too busy. Now we have the opportunity to find our North Star. It will guide us through this night of darkness and take the fear away.