Just a short thought for you all tonight from the book of I Samuel.
The Israelites were heading out to fight the Philistines once again. And once again, they were trying to do it on their own. They never seemed to get it, that God was their warrior, their hero, their triumph.
So this time, after a rousing defeat, they decided to get the Ark of the Covenant from the sanctuary and bring it with them into the battle. How could they lose with God's ark right there with them?
It was sin. And they did lose.
The unthinkable happened. The ark was captured by the Philistines.
After the Philistines had captured the ark, they took it and placed it in their temple, beside their god, Dagon. The next morning Dagon was found on the ground, fallen on his face.
And here is this amazing thought. I Samuel 5:3 "They took Dagon and put him back in his place."
Have you ever had to pick your God up and put him back in His place?
The following morning they once again found Dagon fallen on his face with his head and his hands broken off.
Friends, this is what I want you to repeat today...and tomorrow...and the next day. When your future is cloudy and your mountain is too steep; when the darkness presses in:
My God NEVER has to be picked up. My God NEVER has to be put back in His place. My God NEVER has to be dusted off, cleaned up, or pieced back together.
In fact, my God picks ME up...
He dusts ME off...
He puts ME back together...
and He sets ME back on my feet!
Amen.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Relentless Affection
I went for a walk today at the Carl Sandburg Farm in E. Flat Rock, NC.
If you haven't been there, you must go. The hike up Big Glassy Mountain is my favorite.
I go to the Sandburg Farm anytime I am feeling especially stressed or anxious...anytime I need to remove myself from the busyness surrounding me and really air out the brain cells. Today was one of those days.
I woke this morning wrestling with God over something that I am uncomfortable with, but through the trusted council of a spiritual advisor I feel that it is something God is calling me to do anyway. He never lets us chill out in the "comfortable", does He?
So this "thing" that God is calling me to do is something that in the end may bring ME absolutely no benefit whatsover. In fact, there is a big chance it will make MY heart hurt. But guess what? It's not about ME. And that is why I am rebelling.
Let's face it...we all have that selfishness in us, don't we? We are more than happy to be instruments in God's hands, as long as we are left with a "feel good" result. But what if what He is asking us to do is so completely about someone else...that we know (or we think we know) that there is little chance we will experience any result but pain.
So with that in mind, I headed to my retreat with the trail at the Sandburg Farm. I have never failed to come down off that mountain feeling anything but refreshed. Never, that is, until just a few short weeks ago...
It was late on a Saturday afternoon, and I decided that I “needed” some think time at the Sandburg Farm.
I arrived around 6:00 pm to the sound of thunder. It appeared that most people were coming down off the mountain, but I was in a frame of mind that made me determined to be at the top. I needed to be at the top. So up I climbed.
Okay, no need to tell me that I was making bad decisions all around that day. Alone. Trail. Thunder. Evening. I know, I know.
I passed a small handful of people coming down the mountain within the first few minutes of my hike, but then the trail was quiet and I walked the 1.3 miles to the top with the trail to myself.
By the time I reached the top of Big Glassy, the thunder was moving off in the distance and the view was spectacular as always. It was peaceful. Peace was what I was searching for that day. I sat down and just absorbed it into my soul.
A few minutes after arriving, a family of four reached the top. They enjoyed the view for maybe five minutes and then they turned and started back down, and once again the mountain was mine.
I sat there for almost a full hour entirely by myself. I just didn’t want to leave. Up there it was easy to remove myself from everything that was bothering me down below. It was easier to feel close to God.
Eventually I realized that I had better start the trek down before dusk settled in, but I moved rather reluctantly, slowly starting my stroll down the trail, hating the thought of reaching the bottom.
Shortly after starting down, a man came jogging UP the trail past me. Why would anyone want to jog UP a trail? :-)
If you have read my previous blog, you will know what one of my biggest fears is. Now you will know what another one of my biggest fears is. Being alone on a trail and meeting a man. Sorry, guys, I’m not trying to offend you. Blame it on the news media.
However, that fear doesn’t usually stop me from hiking. The desire to be outdoors is greater than the fear.
He looked like he was training for something, because he was carrying a backpack and drinking from one of those thingies where there is a pack of water and a long straw that goes into your mouth. I have no idea what that is called, but it made me feel more safe thinking that he was training for something.
I kept up my slow stroll downward, and shortly Mr. Man made it to the top of the mountain and was on his way back down, passing me. He was out of sight.
A minute later I rounded a corner and there ahead of me on the trail was Mr. Man. Except this time he wasn’t jogging. He had stopped and was turned facing my direction. Standing. Looking at me. Looking at me. Looking at me.
Ladies, I can only say that my legs turned to jelly instantly. It was my every fear turned true. My hand instantly went for my cell phone in my pocket, but I was fumbling and it wouldn’t come out.
Then ever so calmly he spoke…..…”There’s a bear.”
I looked directly past him, and there standing in the middle of the trail was…. A BEAR!!!
If I only had words to describe what my body was going through at that time. In one instant I thought an ax murderer was coming to take me away and in the next I thought I was a goner in the jaws of a bear. I can only say the human mind/body can’t take that kind of shock too often. I almost wet my pants!!
For one long eternal moment which seemed like sixty minutes but was probably more like ten seconds, we stood staring at the bear and the bear stood staring at us. And my hand was STILL struggling to get the cell phone out of the pocket. Oh yea, I knew I was too far from anything to get help in time, but I decided if I was going to die at the hands of that bear, I wanted someone from 911 to hear it happening.
Then the bear turned and lumbered off the trail, crashing through the woods and making plenty of noise while doing it. We could hear him for quite some time as he disappeared into the mountain.
In the span of thirty seconds, the ax murderer became my hero. I can only say I was practically worshipping at his feet…”I am so glad you were here!” “Thank you for being here!” “OH, I am SO GLAD you were HERE!” "Thank you for stopping!!" (to which he replied, "Well, I really wasn't going to pass that bear.)
Poor guy. He really just wanted to jog.
When I look back on those moments, I can't help but think of God. Isn't that how we are with God? We hit a rough patch, or a snag, and we think He is the meanest, cruelest, uncaring, distanced, you name it. How could HE treat ME like this? Who does HE think HE is? Why isn't HE taking care of me?
Thirty seconds later, something good has happened and we are "Praise God." "Thank you, God" "Isn't God good?" "Look what God did for me."
From ax murderer to hero.
I heard a song last Spring that had two words in it describing God's love for us. Relentless Affection. Those two words have stuck.
re·lent·less
: showing or promising no abatement of intensity, strength, or pace
Do you have a bear on your trail right now? Something is terrifying you or seems insurmountable? Impossible? Unfaceable? Maybe you don't even want to get up tomorrow morning?
Satan wants you to think that the One who is trying to lead you through it is the ax murderer. Satan wants you to be afraid to proceed.
I want you to know that the One willing to lead you through it is the Hero. His love will not slow in intensity or strength. Just give him those thirty seconds to open your eyes to His real character.
Relentless Affection.
Relentless Love.
If you haven't been there, you must go. The hike up Big Glassy Mountain is my favorite.
I go to the Sandburg Farm anytime I am feeling especially stressed or anxious...anytime I need to remove myself from the busyness surrounding me and really air out the brain cells. Today was one of those days.
I woke this morning wrestling with God over something that I am uncomfortable with, but through the trusted council of a spiritual advisor I feel that it is something God is calling me to do anyway. He never lets us chill out in the "comfortable", does He?
So this "thing" that God is calling me to do is something that in the end may bring ME absolutely no benefit whatsover. In fact, there is a big chance it will make MY heart hurt. But guess what? It's not about ME. And that is why I am rebelling.
Let's face it...we all have that selfishness in us, don't we? We are more than happy to be instruments in God's hands, as long as we are left with a "feel good" result. But what if what He is asking us to do is so completely about someone else...that we know (or we think we know) that there is little chance we will experience any result but pain.
So with that in mind, I headed to my retreat with the trail at the Sandburg Farm. I have never failed to come down off that mountain feeling anything but refreshed. Never, that is, until just a few short weeks ago...
It was late on a Saturday afternoon, and I decided that I “needed” some think time at the Sandburg Farm.
I arrived around 6:00 pm to the sound of thunder. It appeared that most people were coming down off the mountain, but I was in a frame of mind that made me determined to be at the top. I needed to be at the top. So up I climbed.
Okay, no need to tell me that I was making bad decisions all around that day. Alone. Trail. Thunder. Evening. I know, I know.
I passed a small handful of people coming down the mountain within the first few minutes of my hike, but then the trail was quiet and I walked the 1.3 miles to the top with the trail to myself.
By the time I reached the top of Big Glassy, the thunder was moving off in the distance and the view was spectacular as always. It was peaceful. Peace was what I was searching for that day. I sat down and just absorbed it into my soul.
A few minutes after arriving, a family of four reached the top. They enjoyed the view for maybe five minutes and then they turned and started back down, and once again the mountain was mine.
I sat there for almost a full hour entirely by myself. I just didn’t want to leave. Up there it was easy to remove myself from everything that was bothering me down below. It was easier to feel close to God.
Eventually I realized that I had better start the trek down before dusk settled in, but I moved rather reluctantly, slowly starting my stroll down the trail, hating the thought of reaching the bottom.
Shortly after starting down, a man came jogging UP the trail past me. Why would anyone want to jog UP a trail? :-)
If you have read my previous blog, you will know what one of my biggest fears is. Now you will know what another one of my biggest fears is. Being alone on a trail and meeting a man. Sorry, guys, I’m not trying to offend you. Blame it on the news media.
However, that fear doesn’t usually stop me from hiking. The desire to be outdoors is greater than the fear.
He looked like he was training for something, because he was carrying a backpack and drinking from one of those thingies where there is a pack of water and a long straw that goes into your mouth. I have no idea what that is called, but it made me feel more safe thinking that he was training for something.
I kept up my slow stroll downward, and shortly Mr. Man made it to the top of the mountain and was on his way back down, passing me. He was out of sight.
A minute later I rounded a corner and there ahead of me on the trail was Mr. Man. Except this time he wasn’t jogging. He had stopped and was turned facing my direction. Standing. Looking at me. Looking at me. Looking at me.
Ladies, I can only say that my legs turned to jelly instantly. It was my every fear turned true. My hand instantly went for my cell phone in my pocket, but I was fumbling and it wouldn’t come out.
Then ever so calmly he spoke…..…”There’s a bear.”
I looked directly past him, and there standing in the middle of the trail was…. A BEAR!!!
If I only had words to describe what my body was going through at that time. In one instant I thought an ax murderer was coming to take me away and in the next I thought I was a goner in the jaws of a bear. I can only say the human mind/body can’t take that kind of shock too often. I almost wet my pants!!
For one long eternal moment which seemed like sixty minutes but was probably more like ten seconds, we stood staring at the bear and the bear stood staring at us. And my hand was STILL struggling to get the cell phone out of the pocket. Oh yea, I knew I was too far from anything to get help in time, but I decided if I was going to die at the hands of that bear, I wanted someone from 911 to hear it happening.
Then the bear turned and lumbered off the trail, crashing through the woods and making plenty of noise while doing it. We could hear him for quite some time as he disappeared into the mountain.
In the span of thirty seconds, the ax murderer became my hero. I can only say I was practically worshipping at his feet…”I am so glad you were here!” “Thank you for being here!” “OH, I am SO GLAD you were HERE!” "Thank you for stopping!!" (to which he replied, "Well, I really wasn't going to pass that bear.)
Poor guy. He really just wanted to jog.
When I look back on those moments, I can't help but think of God. Isn't that how we are with God? We hit a rough patch, or a snag, and we think He is the meanest, cruelest, uncaring, distanced, you name it. How could HE treat ME like this? Who does HE think HE is? Why isn't HE taking care of me?
Thirty seconds later, something good has happened and we are "Praise God." "Thank you, God" "Isn't God good?" "Look what God did for me."
From ax murderer to hero.
I heard a song last Spring that had two words in it describing God's love for us. Relentless Affection. Those two words have stuck.
re·lent·less
: showing or promising no abatement of intensity, strength, or pace
Do you have a bear on your trail right now? Something is terrifying you or seems insurmountable? Impossible? Unfaceable? Maybe you don't even want to get up tomorrow morning?
Satan wants you to think that the One who is trying to lead you through it is the ax murderer. Satan wants you to be afraid to proceed.
I want you to know that the One willing to lead you through it is the Hero. His love will not slow in intensity or strength. Just give him those thirty seconds to open your eyes to His real character.
Relentless Affection.
Relentless Love.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Cricket Theology
Hi everybody,
Thanks to all of you who have contacted me and said you were reading the blog. I enjoy hearing from you!
About 3:45 am the other morning, I was awakened from my sleep by a very loud voice, "MOM!" Trying to fight my way into reality, I half sat up and once again that voice from across the hallway. "MOM, WHAT IS THAT?"
Now one thing you must know about me. I am the biggest scaredy-cat in the world. Especially after dark. That kind of yell is enough to have me instantly in burglar, kidnapping, stranger-in-the house mode. (I blame my brother. When we were children, he used to tell me that at midnight he turned into a wherewolf, and he would come out of the closet to get me. Trust me, I used to lie in bed with my eyes glued to the closet--petrified!!)
Heart beating wildly (with a normal heart rate of 59, beating wildly for me is 75) I struggled to make sense of the "THAT". I could hear IT, and thankfully I was quickly able to identify IT because I had heard it once before.
A cricket in the house.
Now, I am one who loves to sit outside after dark and listen to the night sounds. In fact, probably four nights out of a week, you will find me sitting outside under the stars saying my prayers before I go to bed. I love the moon and stars and the night bugs.
You know how loud those night bugs can sound. However, thousands of night bugs outside in the big, wide open space are nothing compared to ONE cricket in the house.
I am serious. It is incredible. The two times this has happened to me, I have been amazed that one little bug can create such a ruckus.
For those of you who don't have old, buggy houses I will assure you of this...once the cricket wakes you, you will not go back to sleep while he is singing. It is more disturbing than the smoke alarm going off.
So I dragged my weary body out of the bed and went in search of the cricket. It was easy to narrow the noise down to the bathroom right beside our bedrooms, but as soon as I stepped into the bathroom, Mr. Cricket went silent and my bleary eyes just couldn't focus in the rudeness of the light to find him.
I crawled back into bed and thankfully, he decided it was close enough to dawn to muzzle it and we heard nothing more.
Until....
...the next evening.
Just as the house started darkening for the evening, Jason and I both heard it loud and clear. The unmistakable chiiirp, chiiiirp, chiiiiirp.
Once again, we found ourselves in the bathroom and once again, Mr. Cricket fell into silent mode at the sound of our footsteps. Except this time, I knew we had to find the little critter or we were in for a looooong night.
I checked around the tub, sink, windowsill, on top and underneath everything. Before long I was crawling around on the bathroom floor on my hands and knees. At this very moment, my brain says, "There's a devotion in this situation somewhere".
I have a weird brain.
"The true test of a person's spiritual life and character is not what he does in the extraordinary moments of life, but what he does during the ordinary times when there is nothing tremendous or exciting happening." Oswald Chambers
I have been debating as to whether crawling around on the bathroom floor looking for a cricket and wondering to myself just when I last cleaned the bathroom floor could be considered an ordinary or an extraordinary moment of life.
You ladies will agree. It's ordinary. On any given day, we are "called" upon to take care of a myriad of situations that could suck any bit of "Importance" out of our psyche. Just when we feel like we are all put together, we have to pull out the plunger or clean up the puke.
The cure? Sing anyway. Praise God anyway. That's what the cricket does!
I did find the cricket. The linoleum on the floor is loose and I lifted a corner of it and there he was. I personally escorted him back outside to his own world once again.
That cricket belongs outside under the night sky, in the grass, with a million other crickets. However, for a couple days of his life he was stuck under my bathroom flooring, all alone, not a blade of grass nor a star in sight. Any yet he sang his little heart out, because that is what God designed him to do.
We belong on streets of gold, in mansions too large to measure, surrounded by a billion angels, with our Father, singing, laughing, swimming, living eternally.
However, for a few "days" of our life, we are stuck here in the muck, separated from the environment we were meant to be in and from a family we have yet to meet.
Sing anyway. Because that is what God designed us to do.
Thanks to all of you who have contacted me and said you were reading the blog. I enjoy hearing from you!
About 3:45 am the other morning, I was awakened from my sleep by a very loud voice, "MOM!" Trying to fight my way into reality, I half sat up and once again that voice from across the hallway. "MOM, WHAT IS THAT?"
Now one thing you must know about me. I am the biggest scaredy-cat in the world. Especially after dark. That kind of yell is enough to have me instantly in burglar, kidnapping, stranger-in-the house mode. (I blame my brother. When we were children, he used to tell me that at midnight he turned into a wherewolf, and he would come out of the closet to get me. Trust me, I used to lie in bed with my eyes glued to the closet--petrified!!)
Heart beating wildly (with a normal heart rate of 59, beating wildly for me is 75) I struggled to make sense of the "THAT". I could hear IT, and thankfully I was quickly able to identify IT because I had heard it once before.
A cricket in the house.
Now, I am one who loves to sit outside after dark and listen to the night sounds. In fact, probably four nights out of a week, you will find me sitting outside under the stars saying my prayers before I go to bed. I love the moon and stars and the night bugs.
You know how loud those night bugs can sound. However, thousands of night bugs outside in the big, wide open space are nothing compared to ONE cricket in the house.
I am serious. It is incredible. The two times this has happened to me, I have been amazed that one little bug can create such a ruckus.
For those of you who don't have old, buggy houses I will assure you of this...once the cricket wakes you, you will not go back to sleep while he is singing. It is more disturbing than the smoke alarm going off.
So I dragged my weary body out of the bed and went in search of the cricket. It was easy to narrow the noise down to the bathroom right beside our bedrooms, but as soon as I stepped into the bathroom, Mr. Cricket went silent and my bleary eyes just couldn't focus in the rudeness of the light to find him.
I crawled back into bed and thankfully, he decided it was close enough to dawn to muzzle it and we heard nothing more.
Until....
...the next evening.
Just as the house started darkening for the evening, Jason and I both heard it loud and clear. The unmistakable chiiirp, chiiiirp, chiiiiirp.
Once again, we found ourselves in the bathroom and once again, Mr. Cricket fell into silent mode at the sound of our footsteps. Except this time, I knew we had to find the little critter or we were in for a looooong night.
I checked around the tub, sink, windowsill, on top and underneath everything. Before long I was crawling around on the bathroom floor on my hands and knees. At this very moment, my brain says, "There's a devotion in this situation somewhere".
I have a weird brain.
"The true test of a person's spiritual life and character is not what he does in the extraordinary moments of life, but what he does during the ordinary times when there is nothing tremendous or exciting happening." Oswald Chambers
I have been debating as to whether crawling around on the bathroom floor looking for a cricket and wondering to myself just when I last cleaned the bathroom floor could be considered an ordinary or an extraordinary moment of life.
You ladies will agree. It's ordinary. On any given day, we are "called" upon to take care of a myriad of situations that could suck any bit of "Importance" out of our psyche. Just when we feel like we are all put together, we have to pull out the plunger or clean up the puke.
The cure? Sing anyway. Praise God anyway. That's what the cricket does!
I did find the cricket. The linoleum on the floor is loose and I lifted a corner of it and there he was. I personally escorted him back outside to his own world once again.
That cricket belongs outside under the night sky, in the grass, with a million other crickets. However, for a couple days of his life he was stuck under my bathroom flooring, all alone, not a blade of grass nor a star in sight. Any yet he sang his little heart out, because that is what God designed him to do.
We belong on streets of gold, in mansions too large to measure, surrounded by a billion angels, with our Father, singing, laughing, swimming, living eternally.
However, for a few "days" of our life, we are stuck here in the muck, separated from the environment we were meant to be in and from a family we have yet to meet.
Sing anyway. Because that is what God designed us to do.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Hiding Among the Baggage
Welcome! For quite some time now I have desired to be involved in a ministry of outwardly sharing the God that I have met, the God that I have wrestled with, the God that I am still trying to become acquainted with.
In my world, that is just about an impossibility. Adding one more thing...just one more thing...to my days...the thought alone sends my frazzled brain into shut down mode! You know what I am talking about, don't you?
Early this year I discovered the world of blogging (okay, I know, I am a bit behind the times). A thought slowly began forming in the dark recesses of my brain...scary place to be...that here was a place where I could share the thoughts that come to me while I am studying my Bible or other inspirational books. And if you, my friends, interacted with my thoughts by posting comments and your own interesting feedback, then we could lift each other up and bring other friends in on the "conversation".
The cool thing--no requirements! no deadlines! no needing to be ready by 7:00 pm Wednesday! I may post once or week, or three times a week. It may be at 6:00 am or ll:00 pm. Pajamas are welcome. It just doesn't matter.
What matters is this...it's not about me. I want this venture to be about God. Somewhere out there is a hurting person who doesn't know God. They may even be sitting beside you in church every weekend, but they still haven't met Him. Maybe you are that person. Or maybe that person will be led to this running conversation by you inviting them in.
Hiding Among the Baggage
A verse I read this week has kept me in deep thought. Well, actually, it is the verse that finally propelled me to post this first blog.
In my world, that is just about an impossibility. Adding one more thing...just one more thing...to my days...the thought alone sends my frazzled brain into shut down mode! You know what I am talking about, don't you?
Early this year I discovered the world of blogging (okay, I know, I am a bit behind the times). A thought slowly began forming in the dark recesses of my brain...scary place to be...that here was a place where I could share the thoughts that come to me while I am studying my Bible or other inspirational books. And if you, my friends, interacted with my thoughts by posting comments and your own interesting feedback, then we could lift each other up and bring other friends in on the "conversation".
The cool thing--no requirements! no deadlines! no needing to be ready by 7:00 pm Wednesday! I may post once or week, or three times a week. It may be at 6:00 am or ll:00 pm. Pajamas are welcome. It just doesn't matter.
What matters is this...it's not about me. I want this venture to be about God. Somewhere out there is a hurting person who doesn't know God. They may even be sitting beside you in church every weekend, but they still haven't met Him. Maybe you are that person. Or maybe that person will be led to this running conversation by you inviting them in.
Hiding Among the Baggage
A verse I read this week has kept me in deep thought. Well, actually, it is the verse that finally propelled me to post this first blog.
The Israelites, God's chosen "family" had asked for a king.
The bottom line was, Samuel was getting old and they had been depending on his leadership for some time. Samuel's sons did not walk as their spiritually giant father did. When the elders of Israel looked around at the surrounding nations and saw how those nations were led by a king, they decided that was the safest way to go. A king to lead the way! They wanted to be like everyone else.
They had the KING of the Universe on their side...but it wasn't what they wanted. They had not developed an unbreakable trust in the Unseen. It appeared to make more sense to them as they looked around the neighborhood, that they needed what the neighbors already had.
We could have a whole conversation about how Samuel wrestled with God over this turn of events and how God calmly seemed to just "give in" to the Israelites demand. You can read it yourself in I Samuel 8 & 9. I am anxious to get to the "verse!"
By the way, I often study comparing three different translations of the text, but my favorite and the one I will most often use is the NIV version.
The man whom God chose for this first Israelite king was Saul. Although He knew who it was, and He revealed to Samuel who it was, the nation would only find out through the public ceremony of casting lots. It's a generational thing -- makes no sense to me :-)
When it was finally revealed that Saul was the chosen one - He couldn't be found. And then the verse:
"So they inquired further of the Lord, 'Has the man come here yet?' And the Lord said, 'Yes, he has hidden himself among the baggage.' I Samuel 10:22
He was hiding in the baggage!
What baggage are you hiding behind that is keeping you from answering God's call?
Is it "financial" baggage? I don't have enough money.
Is it "busy" ness baggage? I don't have enough time.
Is it "cosmetic" baggage? I don't look good enough; I am not pretty enough.
Is it "education" baggage? I am not smart enough to talk about the Bible.
Is it "family" baggage? Pride baggage? Fear baggage? Embarrassment baggage?
Is it "ignorance" baggage? I don't have a clue how to set up a blog; make it interesting; make it appealing...
Is it. . .I am not good enough baggage?
We all have baggage. I have enough to sink the Titanic. You may also.
Why is it that we feel safer nestled in our baggage (have you just crawled right into the suitcase, like I have?) when God is just asking us to allow Him to dump it out and get rid of it? He is calling us to something greater than keeping the suitcases safe!
What is your baggage? I just went ahead and listed mine above. Are you willing to make yourself vulnerable and dump the baggage wide open for God to dispose of?
What is God saying to you?
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