Pressing On

That Which is Precious - Burkina Faso

2012-02-14T20:31:00.000-08:00

Today we visited the Philadelphia Church in Ouaga. It is the church Marcel pastors and oversees, in addition to several others. You do not need a map to find such a church, whether here or in the bush, you simply follow your ear. Long before the block walls and tin roof come into view, a boisterous melody fills the air with the song of the redeemed singing their praises to God.

Thus far it has been my favorite part of being in Africa, to walk into a dimly lit room filled with people singing jubilantly unto the Lord, they bring such brightness to the darkest of places; both with their voice and their appearance. If you have seen the photos from previous trips here, you know the Burkinabe are those who love bright, bold color; from the clothing and hats adorning the women, to the beads woven into their daughters hair; it is this colorful array that will be forever etched in my mind.

We are always seated up front since we are the guests from America. I love this spot, not because I want a seat of honor, but because it places me just a step away from the many children who flood the front of the church. As I sit watching them I see my own grandchildren reflected in their mannerisms and personalities. There is Mary-Jane, my dancing girl; Zachary my curious, every busy little guy; Eva with her gorgeous big eyes and Ava, so small yet so ready to take on the world. Their color and language may be different, but children everywhere long for one thing, to be loved and cared for. I am reminded of what Jesus said, that we are to become as little children, wholly dependent upon him.

If there is an aspect of life in Burkina I will take away from all of this it is the realization that life is precious. Whenever Loren is introduced the first thing he does is raise his Ipad high over his head and show the congregation photos of his beautiful family. They ooh and ahh over the photos of Amber and MJ and Jude and Isaiah, but it is when he mentions that Amber is pregnant with their fourth child the people in every church we have visited applaud and shout for joy. For them, there is nothing greater that can happen than for a family to be given the gift of new life. Perhaps it is because they recognize the fragileness of life here in Burkina. Daily they are just one illness, one accident, one season of famine away from disaster and potential death. They are thankful for one more day, one more child, one more proof that God is the giver of life and his mercies are new every morning.

I watched them as they gave of their offerings this morning. It was as joyous a time as their singing of worship and praise had been just moments earlier. I asked myself, “How could this be?” Then came understanding. They were joyful because they HAVE something to give; that in the past day or week or month God had somehow, once again, provided for them. They gave cheerfully and with exuberance because they were so thankful God had given to them.
Loren’s message to the people today was on storms. What I have seen here in Burkina is we are much more alike than I ever imagined. They struggle with the same issues as we do, in their homes, in their families, in their marriages and their work, even in their church. We are all sinners in desperate need of a Savior and it is only by the grace of God we are changed and transformed. When the storms arise, we are all prone to ask, “Where are you God?” The answer is always the same. He is with us, perfectly at rest, knowing he will bring us safely to the other side.

It is the same message from the book of Mark, which Loren shared with TFAB some months back. Today, in Burkina, God used his word to bring faith to the heart of four who committed their lives to Christ. I asked Marcel afterwards if these were people who previously attended his church. He said no, this was the first time they had come. He told me this is happening almost every Sunday, God continues to bring in a great harvest here.

It is why we come, it is why TFAB and Ekklesia are committed to training the pastors who will feed and shepherd these new believers and the precious people who fill their churches, both in the city and the many villages scattered throughout this vast land. They will come this week; on foot, on bicycle, by cart and by scooter. They will travel long distances then sit for many hours to hear the truth of God’s word taught. They will be well fed that they might in turn go and feed the people with good, solid spiritual food. We come that the people of Christ here in Burkina might grow and be strong.

Things Learned in Africa

2012-02-11T21:39:00.000-08:00

It is a quiet evening here at the house. Loren, Scott, Ian and Marcel travelled north today to Dori, I chose to remain behind by myself to work on the teachings I will share tomorrow with the women in a local church. A short while ago the power went out, again, this time just as darkness fell. I had thought that might be somewhat frightening, to be alone here in the dark, but it is a testimony to how comfortable I am here that I actually enjoyed it as a time to sit on the screened porch and take in the sights and sounds of an Ougadougou night.

I am back inside now, and Pierre, (our resident gecko who lives on the wall behind the air conditioner) is talking to me in his little clicking voice. The fans are spinning rhythmically overhead as music from the nearby church mingles into a melodic, uniquely African sound. It is good to be here.

Tonight I thought it would be fun to share with you something lighthearted, so here is my list of the 10 things I have learned in Africa:

1. You can never carry enough Lafi(water) when you are out in the bush. Its uses are innumerable.
2. Buckling up in a vehicle is NOT a silly thing to do in Africa, I’m sure Scott will agree.
3. It IS possible to take a shower and wash your hair and not get a single drop of water in your mouth.
4. A flashlight and hand sanitizer should be your constant companion. You NEVER know when you will need either or both.
5. Sidewalks in Africa are HIGHLY overrated as safe places to walk.
6. The Tam Tam has the best Spaghetti Carbonera I have ever eaten!
7. The African bush is home to some wonderful people and especially delightful, creative children who can take a pebble and make it a toy.
8. A smile and a warm handshake speak volumes in any language.
9. Wherever God’s people are, it feels like home.
10. I will never again say, “I never want to go to Africa”.

And with that I will call it a night. Continue to pray for us. I just spoke with Marcel’s wife, Pauline. She told me she saw what is left of the truck Marcel was driving this morning. In her words, “It is a miracle he is alive.” Thank you Lord for your protection, we rest well knowing our lives are ever in your hands.

I am sure Loren or Scott or Ian will be sharing some things later in the day about their journey to Dori, a place where it is not so easy to profess faith in Jesus. Pray for those who live in such places, that God will bring light into the darkness and encouragement to those who are in His.

Revelation - Burkina Faso

2012-02-10T20:05:00.000-08:00

God is amazing! I know, I say that often, but the longer I live the more I stand back in awe of how he works in our lives, quietly, behind the scenes unbeknownst to us until that day when he pulls back the curtain and as they say here in Burkina, Wal-la’! His masterpiece is revealed, the puzzle of our lives becomes clear as we see how the pieces fit together to create a magnificent story of His glory and grace. That God would care so much to involve us in His work of redeeming and teaching His church is beyond my comprehension. That He would ask us to pray and then answer our prayers, that he would bless us with resources that we might give, that he would teach us that we might in turn teach others, that he open our eyes to his truth that we might share the gospel of the good news of Jesus Christ; all this causes me to bow before him in worship and adoration.

It was on the road to Boromo earlier this week that the curtain began to part. As I looked out the van window at the passing sights, I had this recurring thought that I had seen this place before. There was such a familiarity in the Burkina countryside, the many African villages, the crowded marketplaces, the arid and sparse vegetation. I knew it was not just general Africa I was thinking of, but something very specific.

Revelation came in the blink of an eye. In my mind I was there, 40 years ago, attending a missions convention at the Assembly of God church in Grant Pass, Oregon. They appeared, one by one, on the stage, the missionaries from Indonesia, South Africa and Mexico. But the ones that intrigued me were a couple from Upper Volta. So many years ago and yet I can still see them standing there on the platform in their African dress, I can describe them in great detail. I am able to recall their names, Dave and Jan Hall. It is their pictures and slides and films I spoke of in an earlier post. It was their stories that convinced me I never wanted to actually go to Africa and yet I was captivated by all I saw, I wanted, somehow, to be a part of what God was doing in the people of Upper Volta. I prayed for the missionaries and for the people, I gave of what I made from a babysitting job that summer, I helped with the car washes and bake sales and other fundraisers, that our youth group might give money for the purchase of vehicles to help “Speed the Light” to the native people. Year after year the missionaries would return home to share their stories, year after year I was enthralled with how God was bringing light to a people half a world away. Upper Volta would always hold a special place in my heart.

Decades past. Loren sr and I were driving home from one of our trips to the Steens, we had just crested a hill where cell service became marginally available when we received a call from our son. It was 2002 and Loren was calling to tell us he had been invited to go to Africa to share the gospel and to teach the pastors in a place called Burkina Faso. I was at once excited and terrified at the thought of him going, but knew it was God who was calling him.

Upon his return he shared with us how much he already loved the people of Burkina, what a joy it had been to go, to teach, to be used of God in such a way. He told us of some of the needs of the people, both practically and spiritually. My own heart was drawn to Burkina and we began to pray and to give, just as I had done so many years before for the people of Upper Volta.

It was not until I was on the road to Boromo this week that I made the connection. This land of Burkina Faso that God has called us to is, this land that seemed so familiar to me as I sped through the many villages and towns, this land IS Upper Volta the land God laid on my heart so many years ago. Somewhere during the ensuing years, the name was changed but all else is as it was. The pastors Loren is teaching, the women I am instructing, the children who bring such delight to our hearts, they are the fruit of the ministry of the missionaries of a generation passed, missionaries I had prayed for and supported so many years ago.

I told Marcel of this and at each of the churches we have visited he tells the story. I watch the older men and women as their eyes light up in recognition at the missionaries names, a broad smile spreading across their faces. I pray they understand, as I have come to see, God is awesome and mighty, merciful and kind, uniting us in the cross of Jesus, connecting us in ways we cannot fathom. As I pen this, (yes, literally, for time is precious while we are here in Burkina and no laptop is handy as I have some down time out “in the bush”) I am sitting in the midst of a congregation of people beloved of the Lord. They have come, pastors, leaders, elders and their wives to worship, to listen, to take in and to grow in the things of God. I am listening to my son teach what the Bible says about marriage, about family, about what honors God. Soon I will stand where he stands and I will speak and share with the women from God’s word, from my life, from my heart. I will encourage them to pray, for their husbands, for their children for their families. I will do this with absolute conviction as I stand before them, for I KNOW God is with them. I cannot express to you the joy that fills my heart; I know God is good; I just cannot believe he is SO good!

I sit in churches where you, the generous people of TFAB have given, that there might be a roof over the heads of all who gather. Today we gave Bibles to the people, food for their soul; but we also gave corn and rice, food for their bellies, as famine is coming upon the land due to no rain and a failed harvest. I am told the people of TFAB are the very first in all the world to respond to this great need.

The people have asked that we say thank you, thank you so much. Thank you for praying, for giving, for sending those who teach them well in the way of God.

When I was I Hawaii last month, I sat on the couch reflecting upon our visit there, thinking how much I had enjoyed it and how sad I was to see it coming to an end. I contrasted that with my then upcoming trip to Burkina Faso of which I was so fearful. I thought of how glad I would be to see THAT trip come to an end, but as quickly as the thought came, the Lord spoke to my heart and told me leaving Africa would NOT bring much gladness but would, in fact, fill me with great sorrow; in departing I would be leaving a part of my heart with the people of Burkina Faso.

God’s word is true. I am already sad to think of leaving these people. Their language may be foreign but their hearts speak a language no tongue can tell. It is the language of the cross, which unites us in the blood of Jesus Christ.

Continue to pray for us. I will be sharing tomorrow with a group of women here in Ouagadougou. Next week the Bible school, taught by Loren, Scott and Ian will begin and run for the entire week. Thank you for praying for our protection, I am not sure which is more frightening here, the bugs which want to invade our bodies or the vehicles which want to run us down. We are well. If you saw Loren’s facebook post this morning, you will understand why we ask you to pray for these very practical things. We are thankful that God protects us in the ways he knows to be best. Pray for the Word of God as it goes forth, that it will be received into good soil and bring about a continuing harvest here in the land of Burkina Faso. Above all, please pray that God will be glorified in all that we do.

Perspective - Burkina Faso

2012-02-09T11:11:00.000-08:00

Perspective. It is perhaps what has become most clear for me here in this static land that is at once both incredibly simple and exceedingly difficult. Much is as I anticipated: the hot days, the dusty, rutted streets; the masses of people darting in and out of traffic. I came hoping I would come to love the people, yet all the while assuming I would have a great distaste for the land. But it is not as I thought. Indeed, the people, particularly the children and their mothers, have captivated my heart, but driving home from Boromo, from our day in the bush, I was enthralled with the beauty of the African countryside, a sense of peace settled came with the setting sun, knowing God’s hand is upon this barrenly beautiful land.

Perhaps it was the joy of watching the children play, or teaching the women who, if given the opportunity, could teach me much as well, or perhaps it was just the knowing that here in Burkina Faso, God’s church is alive and well. I am so thankful God has granted me the privilege of coming, to teach the women, to laugh with the children and to share with you a glimpse of God’s church in Burkina.

I wasn’t sure what to expect as our plane made the final descent into Burkina. Loren had spoken of donkey drawn carts coming to gather our luggage and an airport that was reminiscent of a grade B movie set in the Banana Republic. I have to admit I was a bit disappointed when we were promptly shuttled from the plane to the newly finished immigration area, where friendly smiles and a newly installed luggage conveyor belt greeted us. Gone were the dim lights and donkey carts, although the swirling fans still clicked away overhead. And what is even more amazing, all of our luggage arrived, in tact.

They say much is changing in this country. For the first time, streetlights illuminate the main roads, scooter lanes and sidewalks now line the street. Yet much is still the same. Scooter drivers ignore the bike lane, choosing instead to play “hit me if you dare” as they dart in and out between the cars and trucks which speed down the road, randomly choosing which traffic signals to obey. This is made even all the more challenging with the rolling blackouts that affect the city periodically, causing all to go dark.

Life in Burkina is lived outdoors. Even at night the people were out; walking, riding, going here and there. I asked Scott and Loren and Ian to give me one word that describes Burkina. Perhaps Scott captured Oaugadougou best; “moving” was the word he used to invoke the feeling of the city. It seems everyone is always on the move. Like ants scurrying, each one knows their purpose but to the outside observer, it is simply chaos.

It should be no surprise then that our first few days here have been much the same, filled with movement and, at times, a bit of chaos. We arrived late at night only to learn the house that is always the haven for the TFAB Burkina trips was not going to be available, but “would we mind so much staying at the extra rooms at the back of the compound?” Being new to Burkina, I didn’t realize how important having “the house” was. Two nights and two different places later, I can tell you, it is VERY important. The rooms they suggested left one feeling very unsafe, especially if your mom is travelling for the first time to Africa, as there were no real locks on the doors and we would be separated from one another.

Marcel suggested a hotel that would be nearer his home. Since it is his town, we assumed it was a place he was well acquainted with. It was only as we travelled to Boromo the next day and saw a sign advertising the “Chic Hotel”, that he confessed he had never laid eyes on the place and had only chosen it because it was the first place that came to mind because he, too had seen the roadside sign advertising it some weeks prior. Such is life in Africa.

The paved highway of town gave way to one of the many rutted, unlit dirt stretches which abound, (I still struggle to call them roads). Bouncing our way past dirty, cluttered, tin storefronts, old stacked tires and the occasional roaming dog, we made a quick turn and arrived at our destination. Dim lights illuminated our way up the stairs to the 2nd floor where we each locked our double bolted doors and called it a night at least feeling somewhat secure, until Loren realized the window to his room had no latch or lock, it freely swung, back and forth, beckoning any who might want to enter. Welcome to Africa.

Morning found us moving to a new compound Marcel was somewhat familiar with. While not ideal, it seemed workable and have to do, since we were scheduled to be in Boromo, some 120 miles away, by 9 am that morning to teach the many pastors and leaders and their wives would be coming. We finally left Ouaga at 9:15, but, no worries, (remember, this is Africa) Marcel called ahead to let them know we would be a little bit late.

I am told the road from Ouga to Boromo and on to the Ivory Coast is one of the most important and heavily travelled roads in the entire country. After travelling it and living to tell about it, I have to agree. I hate to fly, just the mere hint of turbulance sends me into a semi-panic mode. But I would fly a thousand flights back and forth across the Atlantic before I would choose to be a passenger in a vehicle on the Boromo road again. Picture Highway 97 (only about 6 feet narrower) with no shoulders, no center strip and crumbling edges on both sides giving way to rugged ditches. Then add in scooters carrying everything from extra passengers to pigs going to market, bicycles travelling without lights and the occasional walker on the road. Now drive this at 70 miles per hour. Oh did I happen to mention the occasional semi-trucks that are broken down and stopped, dead center in the middle of the road? All quite manageable in the bright sunlight of late morning, but absolutely nail biting in the darkness of night.

Tomorrow we will travel north on a highway which Marcel assures me “is far better, have much less traffic”. Then on Friday we will go again, twice the distance that we went on Tuesday. Funny, when I thought about all the things I might be afraid of in Africa, riding in a van was not one of them. It never crossed my mind, and I think it would be safe to say the thought never entered Scott’s head as well. Until last night, after we finished up at late dinner at 10 pm, thinking we had survived the worst of what the Burkina roads had to offer. But on the way back, we were travelling the paved city streets, travelling 55 mph at minimum I would say, when we heard a yell from the front just as the van careened over a large speed bump, landing and continuing on only to hit a second in just a moment’s time.

Let me just say, the back of the van is not the place you want to be at a time such as this. The chickens in back were squawking (yes, they gave us two at the church where we spoke), but it was Scott who had suffered the most trauma. He was bleeding from the wound inflicted when his head met the ceiling, not once but twice. Much debate erupted over whether or not we should take him to “La Clinique”, which we all knew could be a cure worse than the cause.

After closer examination, we decided to take go to a local pharmacy to buy the items we felt would be necessary to properly dress his wound, all the while so keenly aware that this is Africa, and there are millions of little bugs lurking everywhere, just waiting for the chance to enter some poor unsuspecting persons body. A bottle of antiseptic, a roll of gauze and a purchase of antibiotics later, we all poured back into the van, eager to get home and tend to our wounded only to find the vehicle would not start. Did I happen to mention we had expected just a quick stop and were parked in the road?

With Scott clutching tightly to the gauze patch on his head with one hand and holding his headlamp in the other, he walked behind the van as the other men worked to maneuver the vehicle backwards to a spot where they could get it off the road. This in a place where there were no streetlights and no open stores, save for “La Pharmicia”. While Marcel called a mechanic friend to come look at the car, (remember it is almost midnight now) Loren went back into the pharmacy to purchase sterile gloves so he could administer first aide there under the blinking pharmacy sign. We had acquired quite a little audience by this time, had it not been so late I am sure Marcel would have figured out some way to tell those who gathered about Jesus. As it was, the mechanic arrived and Marcel used his car to drive us to our rooms, where we all fell into an exhausted sleep.

Today has been a good day. I am happy to report that Scott’s head looked great this morning and as far as we can tell, he is his normal, chipper self . Today has been a very good day. I am also delighted to tell you that tonight, we are in “the house”. What a difference in perspective two days makes. If you had led me here the first night, I think I would have looked at the place we were staying and wondered how I would survive two weeks there. Now I look around and say, “Thank you Lord, for providing us with such a place.” As Loren says, now he feels like he is home.

So by now you might be asking, “How is that you have come to love this place which has presented you with so many difficulties?” That, my friends is the rest of the story, which will have to wait until tomorrow’s post….. IF I return from the road to Kongoussi.

Africa Trip 2012: The Beginning

2012-01-08T19:13:00.000-08:00

I am leaving for Africa in less than a week. I have told that to some of the important people in my life this week; the Starbucks barista, my nail tech, the pharmacist. Invariably they ask if I am going on a safari, and will I get to see some exotic animals? “Not really," I tell them, “unless you consider geckos and mosquitoes and rats to be exotic.” That always gives them pause. Anxious to move on to the next customer but still a bit curious they usually ask, “Then why are you going?”

And therein lies a story….

I was saved through the ministry of Good News Club when I was just eight years old. No one in my family at that time was a believer, but as a young teen-ager I began attending an Assembly of God church in Grants Pass, Oregon. One of the highlights of their church year was the annual missions convention, where different missionaries would converge to share their stories and pictures, hoping to gain financial support for the following term. They came… from Indonesia and South America and Mexico, but the ones I remember most were the missionaries from Africa. Night after night I would sit and listen to their tales and gaze at their slides, and from that early age I knew one thing….I NEVER wanted to go to Africa!

I grew up and went away to Bible college, where many of my classmates were training for the mission field. For some reason, most of the ones I came into contact with had one country in mind, Africa. I was quite thankful, as I figured if all of them were going, God would never need to send me.

A song that came out in the early 90s kind of summed up my sentiment; done by Scott Wesley Brown (you can catch it on You-Tube), it went like this, “Please don’t send me to Africa, I don’t think I’ve got what it takes. I’m just a man I’m not a Tarzan, I don’t like lions, gorillas or snakes. I’ll serve you here in suburbia in my comfortable middle class life. But please don’t send me out into the bush where the natives are restless at night.”

I could go on, but you get the picture. I have travelled many places …Israel, Greece, Turkey, Italy, England, Scotland, Spain, France, Mexico, the Caribbean and Canada, not to mention most of the fifty states, but you will notice they all have one thing in common…they are NOT Africa.

So it was I was sitting in the Sunday morning service at TFAB earlier this year when Marcel, from Burkina Faso, Africa, shared a message with the congregation. Honestly, I cannot even remember what the message was about, all I recall is when he was finished speaking and we started to pray, I heard a voice whisper, “I want you to go to Africa next year.” Since I knew that could not possibly be a message for me, I glanced around to see who might be the intended recipient.

But then I heard it again, “Robyn, I want YOU to go to Burkina Faso and teach the women.” It wasn’t an audible voice…indeed, it was much stronger than that. There have been only a few times in my life when I knew that I knew God had spoken directly to me, and this was one of them.

I quickly thought of ALL the reasons I could not go. I don’t do well with dust or heat or smoke or smells and I really DON’T like to fly. Pitiful, I know. I am so thankful that God is patient and gracious with us. Before the service ended I knew….I WAS going to Africa in 2012.

Several months later as I was preparing for the regimen of shots and pills necessary to make the trip to Africa half-way safe, the craziness of what I was doing hit home. I was sitting in my easy chair early one morning and again presented my case to God. I have to be honest, I really didn’t want to go. The thought of flying was terrifying, the thought of spending two weeks in a country that, as Loren says, “Is trying to kill you” just did not sound appealing. Surely God had something just as important here for me to do.

I began reading in the Word where I had left off the prior day, 2nd Corinthians chapter 11. If you are ever feeling sorry for yourself, thinking life is a bit hard, read about all that Paul endured for the sake of the gospel. I was humbled and ashamed. While my life has not been without difficulties, I have never actually chosen to put myself in a position that was way outside of my comfort zone. I reflected on all that the new testament Christians endured to proclaim the name of Jesus and I knew, I WAS going to Africa in 2012.

That was a turning point. I moved from despair at the thought of going to acceptance, knowing God does all things well and I could trust Him to be doing what he deemed absolutely best. I began to pray for the people of Africa, for the women I would be meeting and teaching and for the children I would get to put my arms around and love. I downloaded a picture of a group of children from one of the past TFAB mission trips, making it the focal point of my computer desktop. Their smiles found their way into my heart, and I began to pray for them and for all the churches in Burkina. I began preparing the teachings I would be presenting, and I found myself getting really engaged and excited about what God would have me to share.

What started out as an act of obedience had now become a labor of love. I was amazed to realize I was actually anticipating, with great joy, my upcoming trip. I was going to Africa, and I couldn’t be more delighted. In my mind, God had already worked a mighty miracle.

Now we are just one week out and in spite of my excitement, I find the fear creeping back in. It has kept me awake the past couple of nights, my mind running wild with all the “what ifs?” Can I really get on that plane next Saturday and fly to that place which has always been so frightening to me? Can I leave the comfort of home for the unknown of a place half way around the world?

Early morning today found me back in my chair by the fire, pondering these very questions. It would be so easy, just a phone call to say I could not do it. God would still love me, my family would understand. And then the picture of Jude, my grandson, came up on our digital photo viewer and I was reminded of a conversation we had just last week.

We had pulled into the garage where Grandpa’s boat is resting for the winter. Jude looked at it and informed his sister “That is Grandpa’s boat, he catches really big fishies, Mary-Jane!”

Our dialogue ensued, “Jude, Are you going to go out in the boat with Grandpa next summer and catch big fishies too?”

“I don’t want to go out in Grandpa’s boat,” came the firm reply.

“Why not, Jude?”, I asked.

“I might fall in the water, Grandma. I don’t want to catch a fish, let Mary-Jane have my pole and she can catch the fishy.”

I reasoned with him, I told him we would watch over him. But NOTHING I said could change his mind, he has determined he would rather not catch a big fishy than to risk falling in the water.

The memory of that conversation played loudly in my mind this morning as I sat there, floundering in my own fears. I could just imagine the conversation.

“Robyn, why don’t you want to get on the big plane and go to Africa?

“I am afraid, Father. The plane might crash or I might get very sick, or even die.”

“I will watch over you, daughter.”

Like Jude, I am afraid. But as I hope Jude will one day do, I am listening to the voice of one who loves me, who is telling me He watches over me, He will keep me, He is with me always. I have made my choice. I will put my trust in the one who loved me enough to give His life for me.

I covet your prayers for this journey, I will continue to write, Lord willing, that you might share in the joy of what God is doing for His people there in Burkina Faso.

In the mean time, I will have more conversations with more people this week. I will tell them, “I am leaving for Africa in less than a week.” And when they ask why, I will say, “Let me tell you a story….”

A New Hope

2010-12-14T21:03:00.000-08:00

This is the forty-first and final segment in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

Jan 1, 2010

A new year, a new hope. The doctor said, “Congratulations!” I simply say, “Thank you Lord!”

I cannot begin to understand your great mercy, so with empty hands I humbly come and kneel before you. Thank you Lord, you have heard the cry of this broken heart and given, indeed, “many more sunrises.”

I do not know why you chose to heal me when I see so many walking through so much, I am truly humbled Lord. Accomplish your purpose in me, may I never forget what you have revealed to this fragile soul. May I ever live to declare that you are God, there is none like you. I join with all creation in declaring that you alone are worthy of all praise.... my Creator, my Savior, my King.

Amen and Amen

2010-12-10T19:08:00.000-08:00

This is the fortieth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

December 31, 2009

Thank you, Lord, for a night of sweet rest. Surely you alone have brought peace to my heart. This morning I ask that peace will continue to reign as I hear from the doctor what lot you have chosen for me. This I know, because of you, I have a beautiful inheritance.

Whispers again this morning, Lord….glimpses of life yet to be lived. And yet, as you continue putting together the pieces in the puzzle of my life, creating the perfect picture you have already pre-destined, if you touch and bring healing, how do I not become as Hezekiah….desperate before and then, after the touch of your hand, full of pride because of what you have done.

Praise is the antidote to pride….Psalm 150 declares it. As long as I have breath, I will praise you oh God! No matter what today’s word, no matter the prognosis. “I will sing unto the Lord as long as I live, I will give praise to my God while I have breath in me!”

Oh Lord, whether it is pride in “walking strong” with you or pride in that you would chose to extend your merciful hand of healing to me…cast it away Lord! I bow before you, I humble myself before you. Keep me humble oh God, may I ever find myself kneeling before you!

Oh God, heal to show your great glory….humble me to show your mighty majesty. May the days of being boastful or proud in that which you alone have given….wisdom, provision, strength….may I always know and proclaim it is all from your hand. You ARE the Alpha and Omega of this world and of my life. Amen and Amen.

You Are God

2010-12-09T20:20:00.000-08:00

This is the thirty-ninth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

December 30, 2009

Peace pervades my heart tonight Father, thank you!

Anxious this morning, yes…..for fear of the unknown still held sway. But tonight I am at rest. You have given quiet to my body and my soul, may it last tonight and into the morning.

You are God and there is none like unto you. This is what I have come to know this past two months…..You are awesome and mighty; merciful and kind, your steadfast love is eternal. In you I place my life, oh Lord, you know my heart, you know my request. Jesus, my great high priest, I ask you to petition our Father with your perfect prayer for me this night.

I wait for you Lord…as the watchman for the morning. It has been a good journey….I will continue to follow….even as you carry me.

You Alone Are Able

2010-12-06T19:49:00.000-08:00

This is the thirty-eighth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

December 29, 2009

I feel as the three young men of Israel this morning, Lord. As Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego faced the fiery furnace, then proclaimed…in faith…in knowing you…”Know this, our God whom we serve IS able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace and he will deliver us out of your hand. But if not, be it known to you, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image you have set up.

That IS the place of my heart this morning Lord, as I come to the end of this part of my journey. I know you are able to heal me, I know you have already delivered me from the hand of the enemy, for heaven awaits where there will be no more sickness, no more death. But here and now, I know you are able and I am asking that you deliver me from this enemy which has invaded my body. Even so, no matter what you have chosen, I will worship you for you alone are God.

I admire King Hezekiah. Much like the three who walked with you in the fire, he is under fire from without and within. When his enemies openly mocked you and his own people had no faith in you he did not trust in chariots and horses, but rather he made his petition known to you. He spread out before you the reports, the letters, the threats and then….he prayed. And you answered. I too spread out the report, the CT scans done and yet to come and I ask that you deliver me, for you alone can destroy the enemy that threatens……

Is that your whisper I hear again Lord…..a strong voice that proclaims, “Because you have prayed….because you have cast yourself upon me as your only hope…because you have received the trust, the hope, the faith I have offered….because I AM the one who determines all, who knows all….”This year you shall eat what grows of itself and in the second year what springs from that. Then in the third year sow and reap and plant vineyards and eat their fruit. You shall again take root downward and bear fruit upward.”

Lord, I do not know how, but I do believer you have shown me I will see many more sunrises here, in the land of the living and I shall again take root downward and bear fruit. I rejoice in your promise but more, I rejoice in you!

A Plea for Mercy

2010-12-05T19:52:00.000-08:00

This is the thirty-seventh in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

December 28, 2009

Today, Oh God, I need you to heal this heart which is breaking with fear and to bind up the wounds which have afflicted me. You who numbered the stars, who prepares the rain, who cares for the sparrow, who gives food to the hungry and gives protection to your people, from you, oh God, I plead for mercy. I know it is not of my own worth or merit or accomplishments that I can come before you this morning, but it is solely because of your steadfast love.

Your delight, oh Lord, is not in the strength of horses nor is your pleasure in the leap of a man, but you take pleasure in those who fear you, in those who hope in your steadfast love. You know my heart. You know the self-willed bent of my soul, the pride in my life, the thoughts which come. Forgive, oh Lord, I cast myself at your feet… as the Syro-Phoenician woman, asking only for the crumbs which fall. For so long I have thought myself worthy to sit at your table, but you have opened my eyes to who I am.

Yes, I will one day be seated at the marriage feast of the lamb, but it is only because of what you have done. I have nothing to offer but empty hands, nothing to wear but the robe of righteousness you gave, nothing to share but the story of salvation….continue to take the blinders from eyes, oh Lord. I do not like the pain, but I embrace your plan, for in the fellowship of suffering, I am seeing you.

My Help

2010-11-22T20:34:00.001-08:00

This is the thirty-sixth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

December 27, 2009

Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob. Psalm 146.

If I were to write this Psalm, I would declare, "Blessed is he who has no need of help…blessed is he who has the ability to help himself…blessed is he who has good friends near to help." But your word declares "Blessed is help is the God of Jacob”.

How can this be? Because THEN my hope is in the Lord my God who created all, who is faithful, who is just and compassionate, who sets men free and opens blind eyes. My hope is in the one who watches over me…a sojourner…a stranger and pilgrim in this land.

Oh Lord, remove far from me the idea that “God helps those who help themselves.” Help me Lord to grow up into dependency on you. May I be a child in my need of you, yet mature in my obedience unto you. I don’t fully understand it Lord, but somehow the more I grow in you, the more dependent I become. Truly it is the way of your Kingdom.

Filled with Wonder

2010-11-18T20:43:00.000-08:00

This is the thirty-fifth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

Christmas Morning 2009

Today we celebrate your coming! It seems like only yesterday I stood in that field overlooking Bethlehem....such wonder, such amazement, such understanding that you came to that tiny insignificant little town, making it…for that night…the most important place on this earth you created. Creator became one with His creation! Such mystery. Such love!

I cannot help but wonder….and I know you understand because you walked among us, as us….I cannot help but wonder where next Christmas will find me? Will this be but a memory, this time of ill health, of concern? Will I have walked through more pain, more surgery? Will I be home in heaven with you?

Oh God, I wonder, but most of all I am filled with the wonder of you, that I need not wonder at all!

My Refuge

2010-11-16T21:15:00.000-08:00

This is the thirty-fourth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

December 24, 2009

This is where it finally comes to, O Lord. “I have fled to you for refuge.”

As your word declares, even as your servant cried out, “Give ear to my pleas for mercy! I remember the days of old; I meditate on all that you have done.”

You have been merciful, Lord, even when I did not plead for mercy. You have worked mightily in the lives and hearts of my family, my children. This I count dear. I remember Lord, and I know….I have deserved none of it, how often I have even failed to ask. Yet in your great love and kindness you poured out your blessings. I did not always understand, but as I remember, I see your hand so clearly.

Now Lord, “I stretch out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like a parched land.” How I need you Lord, more than life itself. I need you TO live. Transform my mind, O Lord, that the first thought I have every morning is of you, that in every moment of each decision I make throughout the day, I will inquire of you. “Teach me to do your will, for you are my God! Let your good Spirit lead me.”

You are my only hope. Not doctors, not procedures, not “the odds”. In you alone I trust….indeed, I HAVE fled to you for refuge.

“What will this next week bring, the tests, the CT scan, the doctor appointment?” These are the questions which plagued my mind this morning as I gazed upon yet another glorious winter sunrise. With surety you directed me to Psalm 143. How it mirrored the very depths of my own soul. I throw myself upon your mercy Lord, I cry out to you alone who is mighty to save.

You alone hold my life in your hands, Jesus. It is only by your stripes I am healed. You alone bore the pain. I think of little Gabe last night, he was so sad as he understood, perhaps for the first time, that you had to go to the cross. Oh Lord, may I be as Gabe, sad over what my sin caused you to endure, yet rejoicing that you came as a baby, you endured as a man…and you died as a slain lamb to be my Savior. I am so sorry for my sin, my pride, my arrogance, for all that you bore on the cross…but so thankful you chose to die for me.

I know I can trust you my Lord, it is not in fear but with joy that I flee to you for refuge. In you there is safety. You are the secure place where I can be kept this week and in the weeks and months and years to come. Hide me Lord, keep me from venturing too far.

“For your names sake, O Lord, preserve my life!”

Do Not Fear

2010-11-12T22:00:00.000-08:00

This is the thirty-third in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

December 23, 2009

You have opened these blind eyes, Lord, plainly I see I am that woman with the issue of blood. Without your touch I will grow weaker and weaker, not just physically but in my spirit, in my soul. For too long I have looked everywhere else to solve the issues of my life…how I desire to rely solely on you.

Lord Jesus, I reach out to touch you... to grab hold of the hem of your garment ….knowing that in you comes not only my physical healing but the healing that comes from your words, “Go in Peace”.

I am done, Lord, with trying to do it my way, with believing that God helps those who help themselves. I want to abandon myself to you…where ever that takes me. Touch me, Lord, as I touch you.

And I hear you whisper……”Do not fear, only believe”.

The Heart of a Child

2010-11-09T21:27:00.000-08:00

This is the thirty-second in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

December 21, 2009

The shortest day of the year has come. Always it is a turning point, always a day of celebration for me. Will this mark, as well, the beginning of the end of a long, dark season for me, Lord? The darkness has at times threatened to overwhelm me. If it had not been for the glorious light of your love, your mercy, your comfort, your presence…surely I would have been swallowed up.

I see more than ever Father how utterly helpless I am. All that I thought I could do, I could handle, all that was in my realm, I tackled without thought of even asking you. I see so plainly now I have missed so much of seeing you at work in my life. Give me the heart of a child, of a Zach, of a Jude….one who still asks, who needs, who may even cry now and then…one who may question when I don’t get my way but is quickly comforted by your arms. Make me as a child, needy and dependent on you. Though you have enabled me to do so much, may I see I truly can DO NOTHING without you!

May you be the first place I go, the first thought that enters my thoughts, the first hope I have when I have need. May I not, “climb in secret to the top of the fridge to sneak the cookies”, but rather ask, that you in your great love and compassion, your justice and mercy, might give to me as you deem wise.

You have broken me Lord, but it is good. The drive, the need to do, to be personally involved…. slowly you have brought me back to a place of wanting nothing more than to sit here and be with you, to talk with you, to hear from you, to know our heart, your plans, your solitude.

Oh Father, Abba, may you become bigger and wiser in my eyes….may I see you for who you are…the giver of all good things….the one who does not withhold from those who love you…the one who asks…almost begs…that I come to you and ask of you. Teach me what it means to ask in your name…to seek you…to know your plans and desires and to ask that I might come along for the ride. Take me with you Lord, wherever you choose to go.

In The Fire

2010-11-06T22:00:00.000-07:00

This is the thirty-first in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

December 13, 2009

James 1…As brought to my attention by the Holy Spirit in Brett’s teaching this morning…..

Why have I not landed here before, Lord? Was I not ready to hear? Was I afraid to ask why? And yet, without my verbalizing the question you respond…

“I have a purpose in the trials you are walking through. As metal is put to the fire to purge it of impurities, so I am placing you in the fire of fear, of questioning, of anxiety….that I might purge these things from you. They are impurities that weigh you down, that hinder your faith. Let the fire burn away all fear…‘Lo, I am with you’, all questions… 'I am the Alpha and Omega', all anxiety…’My sheep know my voice’.

I desire that you not simply endure, but that this will be turned to extol my greatness and glory…for others, yes… but truly for you to see. I want to lift up your eyes as you have so often prayed, to see me in My glory, to see me and no longer fear sickness and death…to see me and no longer question what I may or may not do……to see me and be at rest…no longer anxious about what tomorrow may bring. In seeing me you will trust…absolutely….and in turn I will give you strength to bear all that comes your way, for nothing can harm you….the you that is eternal.”

Ah Lord, may it be. Open my eyes, burn away all that hinders me from seeing you. Lift up my head, teach me how to rest and trust in you. I chose to count this time as joy, Lord. Let complaining be removed far from me, let your praise be upon my lips, even as it overflows from my heart.

Do You Believe?

2010-10-18T20:55:00.000-07:00

This is the thirtieth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

Dec 12, 2009

“Do you believe?” The words were so audible, surely you were here speaking them to me. “Robyn, do you believe?”

My mind scurried to the scripture where you posed those word to Martha, thinking I KNEW what you were asking. Now I am left asking, “Do I really believe?”

Martha came as I. She knew you had the power to heal and even to give life where death had laid claim. “Lord if you had been here (if you had answered my FIRST prayer) my brother would not have died.” (I know you could have healed him Lord…I don’t understand why you didn’t!) But…even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you. (I still know you can work in this situation…my question is…WILL you? Come on Jesus, all you have to do is ask. Please ask!)

You responded, “Your brother will rise again.”

Like me, Martha’s response was the ‘fall back faith’ I find in my own life. “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection in the last day.” (Jesus, I know, it is about heaven. There all things will be made right…nor more death, sickness, pain or sorrow. That is the ULTIMATE healing. But today, Lord, I was hoping for healing, for life, HERE. With my lips I give you the correct answer, but surely you know my heart.)

Your reply, Jesus, cuts to the very core. “I AM the resurrection and the life. Whosoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he lives and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.”

Is this not what Martha just said? What am I missing? Was it that Martha simply believed you had an “in” with the Father? That as her friend, maybe you could call in a favor or two? Her eyes saw only the here and now…that was all she could focus on…her pain, her sorrow, her grief. Resurrection someday brought no relief, no joy….not this day.

Is that me, Lord? Have I simply asked of you as I would a friend who owes me a favor? Have I thought if I petitioned enough, prayed and begged long enough, maybe God would answer my prayers?

Lift my eyes to see you, Jesus, the great I AM. You don’t give life, you ARE life. You ARE the resurrection. You ARE healing. You ARE all in all. Though you should touch this body of mine today, some day, at some point, I will still die. I will depart from this earthly shell. My hope is not in what you can do for me here, but in WHO you are!

Oh Jesus, lift up my eyes beyond my narrow scope of this world. Yes, like Martha, like Mary…I desire, I ask that you give me physical healing and life, here, today. But cement the answer in my heart to the higher question, “Do you believe?”

No matter what happens here, oh Lord, keep my eyes fixed on eternity….on You, the Eternal One. Cause me to know, deep in my soul, that in you I have hope. Not in the answers you give or the things you might do…but in you and you alone. I believe oh Lord, now help my unbelief.

I Wait for the Lord

2010-10-02T21:04:00.000-07:00

This is the twenty-ninth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

December 10, 2010

Psalm 130 “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits and in his word I hope. My soul waits for the Lord, more than watchmen for the morning.”

It has seemed a long night, Lord, a long two months, a long year. You have brought me to a place of waiting for you, of longing for you.

At first read, I thought only of the watchmen, longing to be done with the night that they might rest, that they might let down their guard, that they might be warmed by the fire of dawns light.

But it is not the morning you have caused me to ultimately desire…though I do long for this seemingly endless night to come to an end. Rather as the watchmen desires the morning, so I desire you….more than an end to the night…you are the eternal dawn. The light that never ceases to shine…the new day without end!

Oh Lord, I love you, I desire you, but the very fact that my first thought was a desire for the end of “this night” reveals the depth of what remains in my heart.

And you would speak, “Oh Israel (Oh child of mine) hope in the Lord, for with the Lord there is steadfast love”.

May my eyes be lifted above my circumstance, oh Lord, as I see you in the storm, may I desire your truth…your voice…your mercy… your grace… your redemption… your forgiveness.

Carry me Lord, close to your heart.

Only By Your Mercy

2010-10-02T20:47:00.000-07:00

This is the twenty-eighth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

December 6, 2009

Psalm 119…How long since I have read it in its entirety. Surely the truth has always been there, only now I am seeing it with a new heart and new eyes. Countless times the Psalmist declares his love for your law, your precepts, your commands and your statutes. He tells of his desire, his attempts, his accomplishments at keeping that very law…looking, perhaps even disdainfully, on those who do not.

He pleads his case, that you should answer his prayers because he keeps your laws. He asks to be given life, according to your justice. Oh God, how that has been me. “See what I have done, Lord. See how I have kept His ways, world! See, I am righteous. I have chosen well. See God….and now give me life because of all I have done.”

It is not my seeking, my doing, my keeping, rather it is “MY GOD.” All my promises are empty for my flesh is weak and so swiftly I will fail. It is good to keep your commands, for they keep me in a way that is right and true. But it is only by your mercy I breathe, only because of your Holy spirit I can praise you.

Seek your servant Lord, I deserve nothing, yet I fall upon your mercy.

To See You

2010-09-22T20:24:00.000-07:00

This is the twenty-seventh in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

December 3, 2009

Job, how much he went through! How often I have read his story and thought, “Yeah…go for it…persevere…show that God is in control and can do all that he chooses…for his purpose!” But now I understand Job, I feel just a small amount of the pain, the fear, the sorrow, the waiting, the enduring…though my plight is so much smaller. Thus, I too find humbleness and comfort in the majesty of God’s voice speaking and sharing and communicating with Job from the whirlwind .

Oh Lord, I heard that voice in the early moments of all this; have I moved or have you been silent for a season, causing me to stand firm, to affirm all that I know to be true?

Even as Job declares, “I have heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you.” All these years I have heard of you, read of you, come to know about you; you have brought faith by the hearing of your word. Now, like Job, my eye needs to see you…in your splendor, your majesty, your eternal I AM. To be overwhelmed by your presence, to fall before you in wonder, in repentance, in humility.

Bring that from this pain, oh God. May my lips not speak foolishly of things I have no knowledge of. You do all things well…for your glory…for reason I may never know. Reveal your majesty to me Lord, give me a renewed glimpse of God.

Do I Know You?

2010-08-30T21:52:00.000-07:00

This is the twenty-sixth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

December 1, 2009

Do I know you Lord? I have read about you, taught about you, given my life to you…but do I know you? Is that what you are doing in this time? Are you taking that which I perceive to be difficult and fearful and using it to reveal yourself to me?

This I know, Lord, in the darkness of night when fear closes in, when even my very breath seems to ebb, it is your name I cry sweet Jesus. Men and medicine cannot bring the help I ultimately need. I need the help that comes from knowing that you and you alone are my keeper (Psalm 121). Because of you “the moon shall not stumble me by night…you will keep me from evil…you will keep my life”.

The nights are hard, Lord, it is in the hour of darkness when my body betrays me. I will cling to your promise…tonight…that the moon shall not strike me…that darkness will not cause my body to react in fear…that you ARE the keeper of my life.

Do I know you Lord? I do, in part, and yet you would have me to know you more. For in knowing comes trust and in trust, is rest. I am laboring, Lord, laboring to enter into your rest. Dispel my unbelief. I believe that you have saved me and that you can heal me. May I rest in your steadfast love, in who you are, in knowing that you do all things well.

If It Be Possible

2010-08-29T20:41:00.000-07:00

This is the twenty-fifth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

November 30, 2009

“If it be possible….” These were the words that you spoke to your father, Jesus. These are the words I echo in prayer this morning. For you, Jesus, there could be no other way, for you came to purchase my salvation and the salvation of all who would be given you by your Father. For the first time, in my illness, in my test of health, in my fear of knowing what may lie ahead, I am reminded again of how human you were. For the first time I grasp a small understanding of what caused you to be sorrowful and troubled. Surely in your humanity there was a desire not to have to walk through the pain which lay ahead. And so you prayed, “If there be any other way….”

That is my prayer this morning Father. I catch a glimpse of the pain I might have to walk through and I am troubled, fearful, I tremble at the specter of that journey and the death that may follow. To say I have no fear would be to lie, to sin. Like Jesus said to his disciples, there, in the garden, “The Spirit is willing, but my flesh…..ah Lord…it is so weak.”

I do not want to be tempted to walk away from what you may ask. I need you Lord, I need to seek your face, to kneel before you, that I might once again be strengthened by you. It was in his time with you, Father, that Jesus found strength and purpose, the ability to go forward.

I do ask…if it be possible, let this cup pass. If there is something you can accomplish only in this, give me a heart that is willing to say, “Your will be done.” And then give me the understanding it is of you when the time is at hand to walk through it.

Your will is a mystery at times, on Lord. Until you speak else wise, I will continue to petition you, to ask you to heal me…even as I ask that of you now. Remove the nodule, the growth, let this cup pass from me.

I cry out to you, my Father. Give strength to my flesh that I might be found crying out to you ever more.

A Beginning and An End

2010-07-21T21:34:00.000-07:00

This is the twenty-fourth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

November 19, 2009

Am I hearing you, Lord? Sweet whispers again, last night following Brett’s teaching and during communion, “It has a beginning and an end.”

Just as Isaiah had a mission, a purpose, a directive, difficult and humiliating though it was, it was something he would always be remembered for; having to walk naked and exposed before the people. And then there is Ezekial, directed by God to lie on his side for 390 days, then 40 on the next…to eat food cooked over dung…illogical to my mind yet filled with purpose in the mind of God.

Sitting there at your feet last night, remembering your purpose Jesus, the shedding of your blood, the breaking of your body, you spoke to my heart. “This is my purpose for you, Robyn. You may not understand, you may feel open and exposed and very uncomfortable…it may not seem logical…but it IS my purpose. This is how you are to be about the Father’s business. Walk through this. It has a beginning AND it has an end. You will arise and walk forth from it.”

I heard hope in that Lord, did I hear you correctly? This will have an end, as that of Isaiah and Ezekial, an end here while I am yet “in the land of the living”. O Lord, confirm that in my heart. For today it has given me hope and comfort, knowing that this season may be difficult, but I will live and remain to tell of it.

You are using this that you have given to reveal to me more of you and more of my own heart…how wide is that chasm, Lord. I plead as David of old, “Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.”

Use this Lord to break me, to shape me, to make me over into your image. May my heart ever be tender towards those who walk a similar path. May your Spirit flow forth from this wounded body with healing water that refreshes all who pass by.

May the season of pain, of wondering, of fear pass, but may that which it produces remain forever.

Amen and Amen.

In The Midst of November

2010-07-10T13:17:00.000-07:00

This is the twenty-third in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

November 17, 2009

What a difference an hour with you can make, my precious Lord. Agitated and weary I awoke this morning, unable to focus on you or your Word. And then you beckoned, ”Step outside…the wind is blowing, the sun is about to rise.”

Who would deem it possible that you could refresh my soul out doors on a mid-November morning in Bend?

Fresh, light rain had kissed the earth, washing away the remnants of yesterdays snow and dust. The earth was drinking it in, just as my soul was drinking in of your mercies which touch my soul like the rain.

The wind was blowing strong, forewarning of a storm to come, but there was such strength and majesty in that breeze….a promise that you are there, in the storm.

Clouds scurried across the sky at your command, hurrying to make way for the arrival of the sun. It was though you had orchestrated another glorious sunrise for an audience of one. As though you were reminding me….there are many more to come.

Light filtered through the towering pines, such glory! A prayer filled my heart, “May your light shine through me oh God, that others might see the awesome design of your Spirit.”

And finally….there was my precious little flower patch, and in amazement I saw there were still blooms in the midst of November. A promise from you Lord, that in even in the coldest seasons, the life which is born of you never withers or fades. As I abide in you, no matter the season, you bring life and laughter and love….always.

Guilty Wanderers

2010-07-04T14:51:00.000-07:00

This is the twenty-second in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

November 16, 2009

Psalm 107 strikes deep within my soul. Wanderers....rebellious fools...wilfull sinners....world travelers in the pursuit of business….what an unlikely lot. Guilty all in their own ways. United by a common thread in this Psalm….they all cried out to you and you delivered them. Why? Because of your steadfast love.

I too Lord have wandered in rebellion, willfully pursing sin and chasing the ways of the world. But Jesus!

Oh Lord, where would I be had you not reached down in your great love and drawn me in at an early age. You have been faithful these many years, even when my faith has faltered.

I praise you, my Lord. I thank you my God. Your steadfast love endures forever.

“Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever! Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man! For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things.”

If It Costs Me Everything

2010-06-21T21:16:00.000-07:00

This is the twenty-first in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

November 15, 2009

“I’ll obey and serve you. I’ll obey because I love you. I’ll obey, my life is in your hands. This is the way to prove my love when feelings go astray. If it costs me everything, I’ll obey.”

Words so easy to sing Lord, when my idea of “everything” is my earthly possessions, my position, my place. Somehow, before this morning, it never occurred to me that everything means even my very life. You caught me unawares this morning, questioning me so directly. If my obedience was meant to bring death, not life (in this world), would I still obey?

Oh God….that touches something deep in my soul…it is a struggle for my will. At its base….you are asking me….do I love you more than life itself? To answer that question is to answer both, for if I love you more than anything, even my life, then I will obey you in all things, though it might mean death.

My thoughts are in turmoil, working to understand the challenge you present. Like Peter, I know my heart and you know it as well. Am I one who “loves not my life unto death?” I see you Lord. I understand that you were “obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”

How can I ask for any less or more? I only ask that you plainly let me know your command, your will, that I might obey and follow you, Lord. Teach me your ways, may I be a sheep who knows your voice and will follow, unconditionally, wherever you lead.

If It Is You

2010-06-03T21:36:00.001-07:00

This is the twentieth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

“Lord, if it is you…command me to come.”

Who but Jesus could have come, walking on the water? Yet Peter needed the reassurance, “Lord, IF it is you, command me”.

You didn’t chide. You didn’t ignore. You didn’t walk away. You simply met Peter at the place of his faith and you said, “Come”.

I am as Peter, Lord. Four weeks ago the storm began to rage, fear filled my heart. Three weeks ago you came, as I peered out into the darkness of the unknown, anxious only to be safely on the shore. “Calm the storm”, was my prayer. Rescue me, as you have done so many times before. But not this time, not yet. As I cried out to you… seeking your comfort…. seeking only to be with you, you led me to know you were out on the water. Would I recognize you in the storm?

“Wait!” This was you’re a command. “Give me room to work,” was your admonition.

“Obey.”

For Peter to obey was to step out….for me, to obey, is to step back. For both of us, the storm still rages….all that holds us is having our eyes fixed on you. Oh Lord, when I am tempted to look around, when I am tempted to ask you to silence the wind and waves…when I am tempted to ask again if it is really you, let me hear your voice, let me fix my gaze upon you.

Draw me Lord, may my desire for you be greater than my fear of all that surrounds me.

In The Shelter of Your Mercy

2010-05-20T20:45:00.000-07:00

This is the nineteenth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

November 11, 2009

It is in the shelter of your mercy and compassion I rest this morning Lord. It is to your heart of love that knows first hand the effects of sin and sickness, I run. Like the woman who reached out in desperation to touch the hem of your robe…I too come seeking your touch….asking for your healing….hoping that some might see and see your glory…yet realizing it is simply your great mercy and grace I really long for.

You wept, you sighed, you groaned when you encountered all that the evil one had brought upon this world due to our rebellion. Did your heart hurt for us? Was not this the reason you came, to heal…to give sight…to make the lame to walk…the deaf to hear…to release the prisoners from their chains? If no one believed as they witnessed your works of compassion, would you not have still healed because of your great love?

You alone hold life and death in your hands. You choose both for your purpose, for ways I do not understand.

Hear my plea, oh Lord, grant life, give healing, not necessarily that others might see and be changed, but that I might spend the rest of my earthly days marveling at your heart that cries and weeps, that sighs and groans like mine. That I might fully come to know you as my great high priest, who is touched by all the touches me….touch me oh God.

God is My Salvation

2010-05-18T20:41:00.001-07:00

This is the eighteenth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

November 7, 2009

“Behold, God is my Salvation; I will trust and will not be afraid; for the Lord God is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation." Isaiah 12:2

I get this so reversed, Lord. I find myself afraid and try to convince myself to trust in you. You tell me to first see you – You ARE my salvation – therefore in YOU I can trust! Because of YOU, I do not have to fear. The circumstances may be grim, there may be giants in the land – but often it is not for me to know this, in mercy you cover my eyes – I am simply to trust in you. You will accomplish all you have purposed to do.

Keep me from dwelling upon the unseen giants, oh God. You are my hope and my salvation, my life's song. Indeed, whom shall I fear! Of whom shall I be afraid, for you are God and there is none like unto you.

An Eternal Perspective

2010-05-10T20:55:00.000-07:00

This is the seventeenth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

November 6, 2009

“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.”

How this has triggered something in my heart, Lord. Each day, whether I know it or not, from the moment I was born….my outer self…this body…began to waste away. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. And yet, that very process points to the truth; the longer I live, the weaker this body becomes while at the same time my inner man is becoming stronger and stronger. It is a parallel I never understood.

When I am weak, He is strong. When my flesh fails, God prevails. “I must decrease, that he might increase!”

Oh Lord, give me an eternal perspective.

Sunrise

2010-04-26T20:15:00.000-07:00

This is the sixteenth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. See initial blog post on February 21, 2010.

November 5, 2009

John Day, Oregon

A glorious sunrise this morning and a glorious whisper in my heart. The wind is blowing, both within and without, “You will see many more sunrises.”

Because of who I am, I am tempted to ask how many, but the amazingly warm November wind brushes across my face and I hear your word, “That is for me to know. You simply enjoy and cherish the knowledge I am giving you that is another beginning, not an end. Cherish each sunrise as my promise to you.”

With eager heart I open the Psalms for your word to me for this day. How could I have missed so many sunrises in the years so swiftly passed? Why have I not risen early to feel the soft touch of your Spirit blowing across my soul, with expectant face touched by your caress, with ears eager to hear what you would say? Regrets, not so much for what I didn’t learn but for what I didn’t hear, enjoy, receive as words from your heart to mine.

And now, “Forgetting those things which lie behind….I Press On.”

Oh sing to the Lord a new song.
Sing to the Lord all the earth.
Sing to the Lord, bless his name;
Tell of his salvation from day to day.
Declare his glory among the nations,
His marvelous works among all the people!
Splendor and majesty are before him;
Strength and beauty are in his sanctuary.

This is my heart’s desire Lord, to sing a new song to you, the song of a new day, to the one who reigns over all the earth. Oh that I might bless your name and tell of your salvation for many days to come. Do not remove me from this place Lord, this season of seeing you in your splendor and majesty; of sitting in your sanctuary where I behold your strength and beauty.

Do not remove me….until my heart is so changed that when the imminent threat of physical pain and suffering, even death, has passed….I will still crave the morning with you, that my soul will remain hungry for you, that there will be an emptiness, a longing, a knowing it is from you I must hear, upon you I must gaze, at your feet I must sit. Then, and only then do I ask for your hand to be stayed….for you to remove this affliction.

This is the offering I bring. I come into your courts to worship you and you alone…in the splendor of your holiness…upon this, another new day…which holds the promise of many more to come.

The Fire of Your Spirit

2010-04-19T20:11:00.001-07:00

This is the fifteenth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

November 3, 2009

With a touch of the switch I can bring forth fire to warm my flesh this cool November morning. In like manner, when I choose to leave, to get on with my day, it is within my power to turn it off again. I am in control. And in that still small voice I have come to recognize as your own, you cause me to stop and ponder… do I try and do the same with the fire of your Spirit?

Oh Lord, cleanse my heart, complete your work in me, burn away all that you have revealed during this season. Such pride and selfishness…. consume it by your flame O Spirit. Do not cease, do not let me walk away until you have fulfilled your purpose.

I read your Word and I am reminded of David, how he desired to bring in the ark. Was it for himself, as a prize, a trophy? How often have I treated you the same? Did David understand your presence was ever with him, that he did not need the ark to have you near?

How like David I am. “Let me God, let me show, let me do! I have grand ideas of how I might best display you!”

Then you respond, as you did with David, “I am God of all….I do not dwell in a house made by hands….O David, that is but a token of my presence with you. Do not work to build for me that which I do not require, rather let me search your heart and give to you and eternal kingdom!”

When Moses encountered the fire of God, he was set upon a path that would transform his life. When Elijah called down fire from heaven, he would soon find it is in the still small voice you are heard. When the fire of your spirit birthed your bride on Pentecost, the world would witness a new era unlike any ever seen, all according to your magnificent plan. The people you touched by fire saw you in a new light…they beheld you as the great “I AM”….the One who always has a remnant who are faithful, the One who sustains us, the One who gives power, the One who has chosen to dwell within us.

Burn, fire, burn, cleanse this aching heart. May I be forever changed, as I have come face to face with the Spirit of the living God….to the fire that cannot be quenched. Give me strength to stand firm in your presence, O God.

If The Lord Had Not Been My Help

2010-04-12T19:48:00.000-07:00

This is the fourteenth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

November 2, 2009

I confess, I needed to hear a word of encouragement from you…so I jumped ahead to read your word for me from tomorrow’s Psalm, the 94th. Once again, you did not fail me.

“If the Lord had not been my help my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence.” You, O Lord, are the only one who truly understands. You know the word you have given, instructing me to wait. You alone know the fear that waiting can bring.

I cannot continue to talk about it, even to those who are closest. Indeed, if you were not my help, I must needs dwell in silence. But you are there, you are listening, you are my help. I would feel my stride slip, my foot falter, but for you O Lord.

“When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul.”

You see the cares of my heart tonight, indeed they are many. Care for what I cannot know at this time. Console me O Lord, be my stronghold and my God, the rock of my refuge. Hide me Lord-in the cleft of the rock-in the palm of your hand. Cover my ears and my eyes that I might hear and see you only. May I know your touch and desire your fragrance.

O Lord, in you I trust, may I not be ashamed.

By Your Spirit

2010-04-11T15:49:00.000-07:00

This is the thirteenth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

November 1, 2009

John was first “introduced” to Jesus when Mary visited Elizabeth. Scripture records that “the Babe leapt for joy". Matthew tells us that when Jesus came to the Jordan to be baptized, John would have prevented him, saying “ I need to be baptized by you.” He KNEW Jesus…knew who He was….knew the story surrounding His birth…knew He was righteous.

Why then, in John, does he say, “I myself did not know Him, but for this purpose I came baptizing with water, that He might be revealed in Israel….He who sent me to baptize with water said to me ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain, this is He who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.”

I have puzzled over that seeming contradiction for years, but I believe you are answering it here, even now, as it applies to what you are doing in my life.

John was but a man. All his life, I think, he probably thought Jesus was who his mother and father and cousin proclaimed Him to be. But, like me, John was still flesh and blood, prone to seeing “through a glass dimly”. It would take the work of the Spirit to fully reveal to him that “this is whom you know Him to be”. When John might question his own discernment, (as he would some time later) God simply told him, “I will give you a sign, the one on whom the Spirit descends and remains is He.”

It is always the Spirit who reveals Jesus. It is always the Spirit who reveals the deep things of God.

I think you have worked a work in this body, Lord, but I do not trust my own judgment. I will watch and see if you confirm this by your Spirit. And if you ask, I will boldly proclaim it. Or, if you ask... like Mary... I will store up, I will treasure, I will continue to ponder all these things in my heart until you choose to reveal your glory.

Knowing So Little

2010-04-08T21:44:00.001-07:00

This is the twelfth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

November 1, 2009

“And after this…Job lived.”

In no way to I compare what has come upon me to the immensity of what you brought upon Job, and yet, as you have directed me tonight to read his story, I see such similarity in how we view you.

Job knew all about you. His words declare who you are, the truth of what you do. Yet Job did not really know you, in all your awesome majesty. It took illness and devastation to open his eyes to you. I understand, for I am like Job, thinking I know yet knowing so little.

Oh that you would open my eyes to your majesty and omnipotence. Oh that like Job, once I have seen, once you have completed the work you alone have begun….oh that you would grant me many more days to see my children and grandchildren, that I might rejoice as they grow in their love for you.

Nevertheless, not my will but yours be done.

59 Days

2010-04-04T16:56:00.000-07:00

This is the eleventh in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

October 31, 2009

I feel compelled to record this O Lord. I am but flesh, prone to wanting my own desires, and yet….almost asleep this afternoon…a deep intake of breath…like breathing in your Holy Spirit…and something stirred in my soul. Did you touch and heal me Lord? I hear so imperfectly, yet hope has stirred in my heart. My trust, my only hope is in you, O God…but you know it is my cry to be healed…to show forth your glory…to declare praise unto your name.

59 days until we confirm. 59, so you place on my heart to begin reading the last 59 Psalms. Psalm 92 was today’s starting point, “It is good to give thanks to the Lord, to sing praises to your name, O most High.”

That I will do, praising you for who you are, knowing you can and wondering if you have already performed a mighty work of healing. Verse 10 stirs my heart. You have poured over me fresh oil…the Holy Spirit…healing oil…fresh wind. Have my eyes seen the downfall of my enemy, the sickness with which Satan would afflict me?

The righteous flourish – they are planted in the house of the Lord. They shall bear fruit in old age. They are ever full of sap and green, to declare that the Lord is upright. He is my rock!

O Lord may it be so. May this be the appointed day when you have already granted me to go forth bearing fruit for many years to come.

The Greatest Need

2010-03-26T08:06:00.000-07:00

I wonder if they were disappointed at His response. They had gone to such great lengths to bring their friend to Him. Pushing through the crowd, they had scaled the walls, they had climbed to the top of the roof and with great purpose they had begun digging through the thatch, ignoring the shouts and the jeers of those who stood nearby.

They had but one aim. To bring their sick friend to Jesus that he might be healed. They knew, they had heard the stories, they had witnessed it from afar, but tonight they wanted the miracle for the one who was so dear to them. He had been sick for so long, his limbs paralyzed and useless. Most had abandoned him, but not them, not these four. They had stayed by his side and now they were bringing him to Jesus.

Such anticipation, such hope must have been theirs as they lowered the crude looking litter into the crowded room. No words were required, no request was shared, for it was plain to all that this man’s greatest need was to be healed. It had happened elsewhere, they knew. Now they wondered, would they bear witness to such a miracle here today?
Breathlessly they waited in the silence as Jesus drew near.

Then He spoke. Looking first to the four and then directly at their paralyzed friend, Jesus proclaimed with authority, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”

What must they have thought? “His sins, forgiven? That was it?” They had come with such faith. “What about his withered legs, his crippled feet? Couldn’t Jesus see there was a pressing need for his body to be made whole? What good was it to forgive a man his trespasses if his body was still weak and lame? “

We know the end of the story, so it is easy to chide them. But I wonder, had I been one of the four would I have been disappointed that day if Jesus had stopped then and walked away. If “all” He did was forgive this man’s sin, would I have asked for more?

Jesus knew their hearts, just as He knows mine. He knows that so often my focus is still here, on that which I can see, and feel, what I can touch and hold near. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. He feels our infirmities as we make our way through this fallen world. He has promised that although in this life we will have great trouble, we can rejoice, for He has overcome the world.

To prove it, that day, He turned to the man whose greatest need had already been met and spoke those words which would provide the healing he had come in search of. “Rise, pick up your bed, and go home”.

“And the man rose and immediately packed up his bed and went out, before them all, so that they were all amazed and glorified God.” But the story did not end there. For I think if you had peered through the door of his Judean home that night, you would have seen one who could not stop walking to and fro. Maybe he was making sure the healing was real, but I suspect he was just practicing for the day when he would run and skip on the hills of heaven. No wonder!

Waiting for the Lord

2010-03-24T06:50:00.000-07:00

This is the tenth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

Oct 30, 2010

Morning

I awoke with fear this morning Father…fear from a dream with no basis in fact…but it caused distress none the less. It was fragemented...a doctor, a callus comment, the thought there is more going on than meets the eye.

The fear was palpitating…until I realized there was also a song on my lips, swelling from my heart, “There is a redeemer, Jesus God’s own Son”. And I knew, even in the depths of sleep, you have given me a song in the night.

Then I open your word this morning to Psalm 130. “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits and in His word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord, more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.”

With you there is forgiveness….that I might live forever.

Evening

A great storm has passed over my soul. A storm of fear and sorrow, conjured up by my own musings. I have let my eyes drift to those around me, to receive their encouragement and words of admiration, rather than fixing my gaze firmly upon you.

The storm rages, but you call to me…sweetly and tenderly… compelling me to come, to kneel at the feet of the One who has loved me forever! I am not sure if the waves and the wind have ceased, but I know you are walking on the water, carrying me upon your shoulders. And above all, I know I am secure.

I am reminded of what James wrote, “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives generously to all without reproach and it will be given him, let him ask in faith without doubting….”

I come, Lord, I have asked for wisdom and you have given it. “Wait,” is what you have spoken. You desire obedience more than sacrifice. Such irony, I am willing to “sacrifice” my very body to the surgeon’s knife, choosing that trial to go through, yet you are calling me to obedience, to waiting, something I am finding to be much more difficult.

How you know my heart Lord, for your desire is to change me and to make me into one who will wait on you. I can see it clearly now. This is not about the outcome, but the process.

Oh that the testing of my faith (the ability to wait and do absolutely nothing!) may produce steadfastness in my life. Continue your work of completing me, Lord, I willing lay my life at your feet.

Keep Me Close

2010-03-20T19:43:00.000-07:00

This is the ninth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

October 28, 2009

“Whatareyoudoing?” Somehow when my little grandson Zach says those words, all run together, it brings a smile to my face. For he is asking, gently, out of curiosity. I am sure he has heard it often, from the lips of his mama, in a slightly different vein, “ZACH…What are you Doing??"

You have to know, Zach is an adventurous, busy little fellow who could be up to most anything. Think Curious George. Most likely, he has found himself doing something he probably shouldn’t have.

This morning I come to you as a child, Father. Like Zach, I look to you and ask, gently, “What are you doing?” Not so much that I might correct you but that I might know you are there and have a purpose for what you are doing in my life. Like Zach, I just seek to know and be comforted in the knowledge that you are near and are watching out for me.

Yet I would be remiss not to hear your voice as well Father, that probing voice which says to me, “Robyn, what are YOU doing?” For Lord, my heart is prone to wander, to lose sight of you, to find myself caught up in places I ought not go. Foyers of fear, rooms of resistance, streets of self-will all beckon me.

I know I need to stay close to you, to be where I can see your face and hear your voice. Here’s my heart Lord, I give it to you. Keep me close, hem me in, assign my portion. May I look up and see Jesus only.

Poured Out

2010-03-15T19:33:00.000-07:00

This is the eighth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

October 25, 2009
Alone yet surrounded by your presence.

Such precious time with you, Lord, by the fire, but warmed by the great love you have poured out for me. I understand Mary desiring to bless you, to touch you, to give of that which was most precious to her. I desire to do no less, O Lord, though that which is most precious is life itself. I am afraid, yet I know I can trust you. My life is secure in your hands, strong hands which were pierced for me that I might not fear.

I see so much of me still in me O God. Why oh why does it always come back to me? You are my strength, yet I boast in strength – somehow thinking I should be admired for what is not mine. Forgive me, Lord. “To God alone be the glory…to God alone be the praise!” Cleanse my heart, O God- break the hold of pride in my life.

How can I share, how can I stand strong without allowing my own heart to be puffed up in my sharing and strength? This is what you are calling me to, yet I am so acutely aware of how it draws attention to me. Forgive me, root out the pride within.

May I so see you that I cannot see me. May others see you and not me. Humble me Lord, may I be weak that you might be strong. I do not seek to be lifted up. Such struggle and turmoil in my soul, O God, I can do naught else but dwell face down at your feet.

Morning has broken.
A long night of being alone with you Lord, yet you have spoken to my heart.
You have brought peace as only you can.

October 26, 2009

Had you stepped outside early this morning you would have felt it. The wind was blowing. That in it’s self is not so unusual here in the high desert, but this morning was a rare gift, for it is mid-October yet the morning was warm and beckoning. I could not resist. Quickly I grabbed my cup of coffee and slipped outside to watch the majesty of God’s colors unfold in the rising sun, even as the breeze danced through the tops of the towering pines.

As I was touched by it’s force and embraced by it’s urgent whisper, I was reminded of how Jesus likened the Holy Spirit to the wind, blowing where it will at God’s direction. We feel His touch and hear the sound of His voice, without always realizing from whence it has come. Yet it is that same Spirit which indwells each child of God, blowing in and through us…picking up the fragrance of our heart… allowing the world around us to catch the sweet savor of God emanating from our lives.

How I have longed for that sweet fragrance to be what flows from my life. Yet I am reminded that it only comes in one way. Mary understood this. Just days prior, she had caught a glimpse of eternity, as Jesus had called forth her brother Lazarus from the grave. Life triumphed where death once ruled, but the ultimate victory would only come at a great price.

Jesus had now come to their home at the start of that final week. In just a few short days, all history would climax around the Son of God who willingly became the sacrificial Lamb of God. In adoration and love Mary brought that which was to her, most precious. Sorrow mixed with joy as she knelt at the feet of Jesus, breaking open the alabaster jar she had brought with her for this very purpose. Tenderly she anointed his feet with the oil that spilled forth from the broken vessel. In love she ministered to her Lord, the unmistakable sweet aroma of what she had given to Jesus filling the room.

How I desire that my life might put forth that same fragrance; that the wind of the Spirit might carry it to those who are in need of refreshing. How I desire it, yet how I tremble at the cost. I look for an easy way that I might avoid the breaking. I ask God to release a sweet fragrance even as I remain whole. It cannot be. It is in the breaking process that I find myself at the feet of Jesus. As I minister to Him, others are touched by the overflow of what has been given and is now given back to my Lord and Savior. There is no other way.

And so like Mary, I turn my focus to the One whose body was broken for me. I kneel before the One whose blood was spilled out that I might be saved. I see Him as the one who gave all for me and I know, I can offer no less. And through my tears, I feel the wind begin to blow…..

Enamored By Your Glory

2010-03-12T19:46:00.001-08:00

This is the seventh in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

October 25, 2009
Suttle Lake

Why did Lazarus have to die? For the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified. I thought I always understood that. People would see the miracle and God would get the glory. That is correct, in part, but I believe you are showing me there is more, Lord.

If Lazarus had not died, Martha would not have confronted you with her fears and frustration. Oh, she “got it” just like I. There is a resurrection, of course. Lazarus would rise, “someday”, but today, death was very present, very frightening, very final. Jesus was a wonderful, amazing friend, but he had not intervened. Why, Why, WHY?

That God might be glorified. That Martha’s greatest fear, that my greatest need might be clearly set aside. Life and death are in the hand of God, in the simple command of Jesus.

That IS the glory of God. That He IS God and nothing, absolutely nothing, is beyond His command. Winds are stilled, waves calmed, bodies made whole, lives redeemed….death swallowed up by life.

“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us – and we beheld his glory”. John 1:14

Why can I trust you, my Lord? Why does my heart now long at times to just be with you…forever? Because I am beginning to behold your glory – full of grace and truth – and I am in awe. When I behold you, I am without words. I simply stand in your presence, drowning in your love, overcome by your mercy, enamored by your glory!

In You Alone

2010-03-08T21:00:00.000-08:00

This is the sixth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

October 23rd and 24th

Suttle Lake Retreat with the Women of TFAB

“To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul, O my God, in you I trust. Let me not be put to shame, let not my enemies exalt over me. Make me to know your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths. Lead me in your truths and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation, for you I will wait all day long.” Psalm 75

This is my prayer, O God, for this week-end retreat and for the days and weeks and months which shall unfold. I lift up my soul to you, although sometimes, as I am so keenly aware, it is had to get my eyes off myself and back upon you. This I know, in you I trust…let me not be put to shame…even more…let me not bring shame upon your name, Jesus, my precious Savior.

“In you alone is where I find my comfort, in you alone is my security, in you alone is where I find my shelter…only in you alone.” May I find firm footing when I stand only upon you. When I am weak Lord, as I know I will be, I pray you will be my strength. When asked of the hope that is within me, may I be quick to declare your glory.

In this season Lord, more than I have ever known, make me to know your ways. Show me your paths that I may skip along them, as a hind in high places. Lead me in your truth - may your truth be upon my lips and heart – may I speak of naught but what you are showing me.

You are the God of my salvation. Such hope is mine. May each new day bring new desire to simply wait upon you.

You have created me to praise you, O God. In that I find my greatest joy. Such glory I found in your presence in worship this morning, oh that I might have remained there forever! Eternity's beauty pierced my heart, how I long to be in that place forever with you.

And yet…I desire to be here. To share of what you are dong in me, to somehow communicate your great love and tender mercy. Tonight Lord, I will attempt to share something of that with these precious women. Give me words to speak, not of my own, but of your Spirit. May my words speak only of you, Jesus, you and you alone.

Swallowed Up By Life

2010-03-07T17:41:00.000-08:00

This is the fifth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

October 20, 2009

2nd Corinthians 5:4-5

That is it exactly!! Listen…

“For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened –not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.”

This is what you are working in my heart Lord. It is not so much that I would chose to be unclothed; that is, anxious to shed this earthly tent that has served me well these many years. Rather it is that I look forward to being “fully clothed; that is, in my heavenly body, my heavenly home, my dwelling with you.

I am not afraid-yes perhaps I even long for that day when this mortal body must die that it might be swallowed up by life, your life, oh God, eternal life!

You Know My Days

2010-03-04T20:38:00.000-08:00

This is the fourth of a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

October 20, 2009
Morning

Today is my son’s birthday.

For him, for me, as for all is Psalm 139,

“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made…..

In your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet, there were none of them.”

Such safety in your hand, Oh Lord, such confidence and trust.

“You hem me in, behind and before and lay your hand upon me.”

The longer I know you the more “hemming in” I desire Lord.

Keep your hand upon me, lead me in the way of righteousness and truth.

Accomplish your will in my life.

Trust Me

2010-03-02T10:06:00.000-08:00

This is the third of a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

October 19, 2009
On the Crooked River

“Speak Lord, for your servant listens.”

I know I hear and see in part, Lord, but still I listen and watch. You have opened a window of sunshine in an otherwise dreary land on this fall day. I see it as a blessing from your hand for me, reminding me that your eye is upon me.

You are speaking, and so I will write what I am hearing from your Spirit this day, “This sickness is not unto death.” And yet even in my writing I know that Lazarus died. But I also know as he was raised from the tomb, he went forth, never again to fear his passing from this life into eternity. Death was no longer an enemy to be feared but a journey to be anticipated.

I do not know your plans for me; I can only see what you have placed in front of me this day. But your Spirit whispers, “This, this is that which you have desired for so long…to be set free from the fear of sickness and even death itself, for you and your children and your grandchildren. I am going to do a mighty work in you my child. You will see with new eyes and feel with a new heart. Trust will be your constant companion, mercy and steadfast love your portion!

At last you will be freed from that which would cause your eyes and heart to turn at times from me. This is the time I have appointed for you! Do not fear those who can harm the body, but fear the one who can destroy men’s souls. May that fear give you renewed compassion for those who still tremble. Share with them of my great love and compassion, now that you are truly catching a glimpse of all my salvation means in light of eternity.

Life here is but a vapor, yet it is that which you and others grasp. Lift up your eyes and see me in my majesty and glory. Do not fear this time, but rather welcome and embrace it as my good gift to you, for I have loved you with an everlasting love and I will accomplish all I have purposed to do in your life.

I know you fear, but as I spoke to you so many years ago, “Trust Me”. All the prayers you have whispered have not gone unheeded, all your struggles not unseen, I am about to do a work that, if I had told you before, you would not have believed. This is the time, this is the day, rejoice and see my hand at work.”

I do trust you Lord…help me to trust you more. May I be as a vessel of clay in your hands, willingly embracing the Master’s Touch.

Do You Want to Be Healed?

2010-02-25T19:48:00.000-08:00

This is the second of a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

October 17, 2009

“Do you want to be healed?”

You posed the question to the lame man at the pool of Bethesda, now you pose it to me, Jesus. My reason for hesitation is surely different than his, but my initial response is the same. The lame man assumes healing must come from the physical labor of man, someone to move him into the pool. How foolish, I have often thought, and yet, I search with fingers flying on the keyboard to find the answers of how I might be healed. How foolish!!

You are the great physician, Jesus. By your stripes I am healed. This physical body will one day rise anew, sickness and death dispelled. But for now, for tonight, it would seem you are posing the question to me, “Do you want to be healed?”

My response surprises even me. I do not want to be like this man who was physically healed only to not realize who Jesus is. If my being made whole causes me to lose touch with you, Jesus, then my answer would be no. In my lameness, my blindness, my spiritual paralysis, I have not always recognized you for who you are. These past few months have opened my eyes to you; I have seen you, high and lifted up. I have caught a glimpse of your glory! Rather than longing for what is passed, I look ahead to what is…an eternity with you!

But I do desire to be healed, if that will lead me to sharing of your glory, delighting in your love, declaring the awesome wonder of you. I do not want to go back to what was, a life lived in mundaneness. I have been content to dwell at the pool amid the lame and the blind, looking for one to help me rather than looking to how I might help those around me. Oh that I might be the one to offer sincere love to others!

What joy yesterday to have my time “interrupted” by my son, to be content to enjoy an hour of conversation with him, though there was much to do. To go to my daughter’s home today and sit on the porch, enjoying the beauty of a blustery fall afternoon as I took in the wonder of my grandson, marveling at the beautiful simplicity of being a child. It is for these, my children and grandchildren that I want to be healed, that I might share of your great love and mercy with them.

From surface conversation to heartfelt prayer, Thursday evening dinner with good friends took on a new dimension as they were the first to share in the news I received. My heart now is linked with theirs, for we have journeyed together through the valley of the shadow. I am truly feeling sheer joy and pain and delight in the journey. This is the gift you have given in my infirmity of the past few months.

And now, a potentially bigger challenge is in my path. I do not know the outcome, but if indeed this is your Spirit asking me tonight, “Do you want to be healed?” I respond with reverent fear, “Yes…heal my body as you have already healed my soul. Make me a servant of your people, may the days allotted to me have purpose in you.”

Merciful Father, may I have length of days to show mercy to others.

A Great God

2010-02-21T19:53:00.000-08:00

In October of 2009 the Lord set my feet upon a path of fear and faith, testing and trusting. It is a journey that has found me falling, time and time again, at the feet of of the one who gave His life for me. In it all I have come to realize that God answers the cry of my heart not because I have great faith, but because He is a Great God.

Some who read this blog may understand fully of what I write, for you too are in the midst of a difficult trial. For you, it is my prayer that as I share a part of that journey, as recorded in my journals through that season, that God might use a small part of what He has worked in my life to encourage you on your path.

October 16, 2009

And so the journey begins….a word from our friend, my doctor, yesterday…a word I really did not want to hear. “The nodule has grown”.

To be human is to hear those words and to fear. “What if?” echoes in my mind. I hear and I think, my days may have limit…and yet as a mortal…one who must put off this earthy tent…I understand my days have been appointed by the Lord.

I do not know how this will unfold. Is this it, the final preparation for a glorious journey I fear yet long for? Or is this a time to simply be transformed from glory to greater glory as I see you anew, oh God. Is this your way of answering all I have prayed through the years…the yearning desire to know you more? I do not know, but I know Who I know.

My prayer is that of David in Psalm 16, that beautiful Psalm which you directed me to in that precious midnight hour just past.

“Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge….
The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup,
you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places,
indeed I have a beautiful inheritance.
I bless the Lord who gives me counsel,
in the night also my heart instructs me.
I have set the Lord always before me;
because he is at my right hand I shall not be shaken.
Therefore my heart is glad and my whole being rejoices:
my flesh also dwells secure.
For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
or let your holy one see corruption.
You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore."

You are my inheritance…you hold my lot. In you oh Lord I place my trust.

Two Kings

2009-11-15T21:14:00.000-08:00

Two kings, chosen by God to lead the people of Israel. Two Kings who, early in their reign, would be given the choice of obedience or disobedience to the very God who had given them their kingdoms. Two kings, I could not help but reflect on their stories as I stood there at Beth-Shen in Israel, the wind blowing softly though the top of the tress. For it was there at Beth-Shen that one would reap the repercussions of his choice, even as the other was being elevated to the place of authority.

Saul had been ruling for but two years when we first find him in an encounter with the Philistines. Though their numbers were few, the men of Israel won the battle, as Saul’s son, Jonathan, led the charge and defeated an entire garrison of Philistine warriors. Taking the credit as his own, Saul proclaimed that a trumpet was to be blown throughout the land of Israel to announce his great victory.

But the war was not yet over. Just days later the Philistines regrouped, complete with thirty thousand chariots and six thousand horsemen and troops that numbered “like the sand on the seashore”. Men of Israel who just days before had been dancing in celebration, now found themselves hiding...in caves…in holes…in rocks…in cisterns…even in tombs. Their fear was palatable, permeating the very air that they breathed.

Have you ever been there? Frightened, surrounded by all that is causing you to tremble? If you are like me, you just want to do something…anything! Anything, that is, but wait. And yet, that is so often what God asks of us. To wait. To give God time to work.

That was God’s word to King Saul. Wait, Saul, just wait. In seven days Samuel will come and make an offering. In seven days you will see my plan, be given direction. In seven days I will make my way known. But Saul could not wait. He was too afraid…of his enemies, of his own people, of losing his kingdom. Decisions made that day would culminate on a mountain overlooking Beth-Shen, where Saul would be cut down in battle; his body hung on a tree in that ancient city, his Kingdom given to another.

Another who would come and find himself in an almost identical situation. Surrounded by the Philistines, David inquired of the Lord as to what he should do. Such wisdom. The Lord told David to go forth, that He would give them victory over their enemy. God did as He promised, and David declared, “The Lord has burst through my enemies before me like a bursting flood”, giving all glory to God. Such humility.

Some time later the Philistines regrouped, on the attack once again. Had I been David I would have gone forth immediately to attack, assuming that God would provide the victory as before. Not David. It is recorded in the book of 2 Samuel that David inquired of the Lord. Again. And what was the Lord’s answer? “Wait, David, wait.”

There it is again. Wait. For what? To give God time to work. “Wait, David, until you hear the sound of a going in the tops of the mulberry trees. For then, the Lord will have gone out before you to strike down the army of the Philistines.”

Try telling that to your army.

“What is your command, oh King?”

“Wait until you hear the wind in the top of the trees.”

Surely they would have thought him a bit crazy, which, perhaps, David was. Crazy about God, the one who had chosen him, an insignificant shepherd boy, to be King of all Israel. Crazy enough to believe that if God said he would send a wind in the trees as a sign that it was time to march to victory, then surely victory would be theirs. Crazy enough to wait for that wind to blow.

He did not question how he would be able to distinguish the wind of God from the every day breeze that blows. This was a man after God’s own heart, a man who made a practice of listening to the voice of God. This was a man who would not find his end on a desolate hill somewhere overlooking Beth-Shen, but rather he was a man to whom God made the promise, “I will establish your Kingdom forever”.

Oh that I might be like David, so in tune with the voice of my Lord that I am willing, at His command, to wait. To give Him time to work. To quell the voice of fear that tells me waiting is foolish, that action is required. To wait until I hear the wind of His spirit blowing, going before, that the victory and glory might be His. May I choose to look towards that Kingdom which is forever, where I will spend eternity with the King of Kings.

What Are You Doing?

2009-10-30T10:55:00.000-07:00

“Whatareyoudoing?” Somehow when my little grandson Zach says those words, all run together, it brings a smile to my face, for he is asking gently, out of curiosity. Often it is when I am out of sight, perhaps upstairs as he is finding ways to keep himself busy downstairs. As though in need of reassurance, he simply inquires to know that I am still nearby.

I am sure he has heard those same words often, from the lips of his mama, in a slightly different vein, “Zach…What are you doing?”

You have to know, Zach is an adventurous, busy little fellow who could be up to most anything. Think Curious George. Most likely he has found himself doing something he probably shouldn’t have.

I am so like Zach. I come to my Father and ask, gently, “What are you doing Lord?” Not so much that I might correct Him, but that I might know He is there and has a purpose for what He is doing in my life. Like Zach, I just seek to know and be comforted by the sound of His voice, to know that He is near and watching out for me.

Yet that same voice which has brought comfort and reassurance so many times also asks of me, “Robyn…What are you doing?

And I am reminded that I am but a child whose heart is prone to wander, to lose sight of Him, to find myself caught up in places I ought not go. I pursue my way down footpaths of fear and streets of self-will, tempted to enter rooms of rebellion through doorways of doubt. Like Zach, I sometimes find it hard to be content within the confines of the place I am asked to stay.

And so, like the sweet Psalmist of old, I am thankful that God knows my heart yet loves me still. I welcome the touch of his nail pierced hand.

Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it. Psalm 139.

A Sweet Fragrance

2009-10-26T18:21:00.000-07:00

Had you stepped outside early this morning you would have felt it. The wind was blowing. That in it’s self is not so unusual here in the high desert, but this morning was a rare gift, for it is mid-October yet the morning was warm and beckoning. I could not resist. Quickly I grabbed my cup of coffee and slipped outside to watch the majesty of God’s colors unfold in the rising sun, even as the breeze danced through the tops of the towering pines.

As I was touched by it’s force and embraced by it’s urgent whisper, I was reminded of how Jesus likened the Holy Spirit to the wind, blowing where it will at God’s direction. We feel His touch and hear the sound of His voice, without always realizing from whence it has come. Yet it is that same Spirit which indwells each child of God, blowing in and through us…picking up the fragrance of our heart… allowing the world around us to catch the sweet savor of God emanating from our lives.

How I have longed for that sweet fragrance to be what flows from my life. Yet I am reminded that it only comes in one way. Mary understood this. Just days prior, she had caught a glimpse of eternity, as Jesus had called forth her brother Lazarus from the grave. Life triumphed where death once ruled, but the ultimate victory would only come at a great price.

Jesus had now come to their home at the start of that final week. In just a few short days, all history would climax around the Son of God who willingly became the sacrificial Lamb of God. In adoration and love Mary brought that which was to her, most precious. Sorrow mixed with joy as she knelt at the feet of Jesus, breaking open the alabaster jar she had brought with her for this very purpose. Tenderly she anointed his feet with the oil that spilled forth from the broken vessel. In love she ministered to her Lord, the unmistakable sweet aroma of what she had given to Jesus filling the room.

How I desire that my life might put forth that same fragrance; that the wind of the Spirit might carry it to those who are in need of refreshing. How I desire it, yet how I tremble at the cost. I look for an easy way that I might avoid the breaking. I ask God to release a sweet fragrance even as I remain whole. It cannot be. It is in the breaking process that I find myself at the feet of Jesus. As I minister to Him, others are touched by the overflow of what has been given and is now given back to my Lord and Savior. There is no other way.

And so like Mary, I turn my focus to the One whose body was broken for me. I kneel before the One whose blood was spilled out that I might be saved. I see Him as the one who gave all for me and I know, I can offer no less. And through my tears, I feel the wind begin to blow…..

Show Me Your Glory

2009-10-10T13:45:00.000-07:00

Moses, who had found favor in God’s sight, Moses of whom God said, “I know you by name”. This same Moses was summoned by God to a place of meeting on the mountain where God promised to show him His glory.

What anticipation must have filled his heart as he awaited the next day’s dawning, for it was in the morning that God had promised to reveal Himself to His humble servant. Alone and in awe he climbed the mountain, pushing upward to the place the Lord commanded. At last he positioned himself in the cleft of the appointed rock, high atop Mt. Sinai, surely wondering to himself, “What will I see as God’s glory passes by?”

Then it happened, “The LORD descended in the cloud and stood with him there, and proclaimed the name of the LORD. The LORD passed before him and proclaimed, “The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty…”

Moses response was as Isaiah’s- and Peter’s- and mine. For once I have seen the true nature of my Lord, once I understand He is a God of righteousness and justice and truth, my only recourse is to run into His arms of mercy and grace, to find shelter in His steadfast love, for that IS the glory of God. Like Moses I bow my head in worship, amazed that the God of all creation would choose to love me and forgive my sin, and to take me for HIS inheritance.

I have seen His glory. For the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” I have known His glory, for I have known and am known by Jesus.

Safe Waters

2009-09-17T12:16:00.000-07:00

I love talking with my grandchildren, which is why I was on the phone with Gabe earlier this summer, even though he was camping up at Suttle Lake. I knew the day had been warm and his mommy and daddy were planning on taking him and his little brother swimming at nearby Scout Lake, so I thought I would check in to see how it went.

Our conversation went something like this:

“Hi Gabe, did you go to the lake with your mommy and daddy today?”

“Yes, gramma”.

“Did you have fun swimming in the lake, Gabe?”

“No, gramma.”

“Didn’t you like swimming with your Daddy?”

“No gramma, ‘cuz if you want to swim, YOU HAVE TO GET ALL WET!”

To which I had no reply. But later I thought about that little conversation. You have to know, Gabe LIKES water. He likes to take a bath, he loves to run through the sprinklers and he even enjoys swimming in our community pool. Then it struck me, those are all very safe, controlled environments where he can see the bottom or control the flow. Swimming in a lake could, indeed, be quite frightening. You don’t know what lurks beneath and beyond and there is always a chance you will go to far from the safety of the shore.

How often through my life have I cried out to the Lord, “I want to know you more.” But I want it on my terms, in the safety of what I can see and control. He calls out as he did to Peter that day in the storm, “Come”. But I am afraid, knowing that I, like Peter, may sink into the depths. And so I content myself to wade along the shore, longing for more but afraid of the “what ifs?” I know my Father is there, I know he has promised to care for me, yet still I hold back, knowing that to swim, I will have to “get all wet”.

Peter understood this well, which is why he was brutally honest with Jesus that day on the shore of Galilee. He knew his own heart; he knew his failings and his fears. Gone was the bluster and blow of just a few weeks prior. Read the story in John. After the resurrection, Jesus comes again to some of his disciples. They are out in a boat, fishing, something they know well and find a comfortable familiarity in, even though they fished all night and caught absolutely nothing! In the morning, they saw a man standing on the shore. He called out to them asking if they had any fish. Unlike many a fisherman, they chose to answer honestly. “No”, was the curt reply.

Then came the exhortation, “Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” I suspect it was at that time they began to wonder just WHO the man was that was giving them instructions. The words must have seemed vaguely familiar, but it was not until they followed the command and landed a haul of fish larger than they were able to handle, that Peter realized, “It is the Lord!”

Jumping out of the boat Peter heads to shore, for, as the scripture records, “They were not far from land.” Safe territory, Peter could handle this.

After a breakfast of fish, prepared by Jesus himself, Peter found himself alone with the Lord. Then came the question, not once but three times. “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

I hear that question a lot, of late. "Robyn, do you love me?” Like Peter, I find myself hedging, for I know what my response will cost. “If you love me” Jesus says, “you will keep my commandments.”

What is he asking of me? That I take up His cross, that I give up control of my life, that I launch out into waters where I do not know what lies below and beyond. And always, always, there is the danger that I will be so far from the safety of shore I will have to rely totally upon Him.

Jesus knows my heart and yet he keeps asking, that I might know my heart. Finally I, like Peter, respond, “Yes, Jesus, I love you.” His response is simple and sincere, “Follow me.”

Though I love the safety of the shore, I yearn to know Him more. And so, I follow.

Life with Laura

2009-07-16T20:00:00.000-07:00

When Laura was born, a good friend told us of a proverb she learned from her mother who was of Chilean descent, “Every baby is born with a basket of bread in their arms”. How we needed that encouragement, as our youngest entered our family in a season of upheaval and change. Indeed it was true, the years following her birth saw an increase in our family’s “bread”, but more importantly, Laura has brought to us joy beyond measure, brightening our lives for this past twenty-one years. And now, she is getting married!

As one might imagine, life in our home has been busy as we prepare for this, our second wedding in the family in six months. The result? Blog postings have been few and far between as time has been given to the flurry of wedding planning. But as we enter the two-week countdown to her marriage, I thought it would be fun to share this newsletter column I wrote sixteen years ago, a small window into life with Laura!

It really wasn’t a long trip as one might measure distance, just another busy day in the Anderson house. We were on our way home from kindergarten, chatting about the day’s events when the light ahead turned red. It wasn’t that we were in a hurry to go anywhere, but my impatient five year old quickly surveyed the situation and seeing no other cars at the intersection instructed, “Mom, just run the red light!”

Patiently I explained that the light was, in fact, red and I would have to wait for it to turn green before proceeding. Still not understanding the logic of this delay, Laura persisted, “But Mom, there aren’t any policemen near-by to see you.”

Trying to give her a proper perspective, I responded, “But Laura, God would see me disobey and run the light.”

To which she indignantly replied, “Right, and I’m sure God is going to come down here and give you a ticket!”

As mature adults we may not verbalize our feelings in such an honest manner, yet our actions display the true degree of integrity in our lives. The clerk at the store under-charges us for an item and we walk away, pleased that we came out ahead this time. The amusement park charges for children over age twelve, so of course our kids are forever eleven. Our child’s room mother needs a volunteer for just a few hours, but we know without a doubt we already have something scheduled for that exact time.

And so we quiet the voice of the Holy Spirit who tells us we have been less than true to ourselves and to our God, rationalizing that no one will ever know what has occurred. So often we measure the rightness of our deeds by the reaction of those around us, rather than seeking to know how our heavenly Father would have us to respond.

Integrity, being above reproach in all that we do, not because someone might see and criticize our actions, but because the God we claim to love and serves demands nothing less. “You shall be Holy unto me, for I am Holy” declares the Lord. May we be those who follow wholly after Him.

Forever our "baby", congratulations on your upcoming marriage to Ryan! Can't wait to see what the Lord has in store for the two of you.

The Beauty of His Creation

2009-04-07T20:03:00.000-07:00

Coming from a world still slumbering in winter, I could not help but marvel time and time again at the spectacular array of color that greeted us on our trip to Jacksonville a couple weeks ago. Flowering plums, dressed in their dazzling display of pink provided the backdrop for the golden forsythia that had just burst upon the scene with all the brilliance of the midday sun. As if on cue from the Master Director, the purple and white carpet of crocuses yielded to the dancing daffodils as the smiling faces of pretty pansies smiled in appreciation.

What a wonderful God we serve, who has chosen to fill our lives with so much color and beauty. Trees that lie dormant and barren all winter long are called upon to brighten our world each spring, each in their own season as God has directed. Making their display even more dramatic is the backdrop provided by the towering evergreens, so often overlooked in the kaleidoscope of spring, yet it is these which remain constant, through the searing heat of summer and the deep snows of winter.

In His love, God has given us the capacity to appreciate His creation, in all of its splendor and majesty. In His wisdom, God has chosen to adorn with great diversity His most precious creation, His people. Each child of God, created in His image, has a special beauty and purpose which has been given to enhance the lives of those around them. Some have gifts and talents which burst forth in such spectacular fashion, the world cannot help but take notice. Others, like the evergreen, are steady and strong through all the seasons of life, but often slip through life unnoticed and ignored.

Just as we appreciate the splendid array God gives us through the scenes of nature, may we also remember to cherish the differences found in His people. Although it may be hard to understand, God often chooses to place the fragile splendor of a rose in the midst of the sharpest thorns. May we remember seek to find the beauty of our Lord in those around us and in so doing, find our own hearts enriched by the fragrance of their lives.

Rest for Your Soul

2009-02-17T11:29:00.000-08:00

It has always been one of my favorite paintings, so when I saw a puzzle of it sitting on the shelf at the store in Sisters, Oregon, I couldn’t resist. “Peaceful Retreat”, the name itself speaks of the yearning desire that haunts my soul. I picture myself rocking lazily in the handcrafted log chair, gazing out upon the placid lake, watching for nothing more than the telltale ripple of water indicating a gentle breeze has found its way down the distant mountain slope. “If only I could spend a couple days at that place”, I tell myself, “then I would find rest from the toil of everyday life.”

Caught up in the moment, my reverie soon dissipates as I glance out the store window where developing blizzard conditions remind me it is the middle of winter. Even if I were able to take the time to find my “Peaceful Retreat” it would probably be inaccessible because of snow. Still, I am unwilling to let go of that vision of total rest, so I tell myself I will be content with simply putting the puzzle together as I sit by the fire and watch a Central Oregon winter unfold.

That was three years ago, and the puzzle remains as I first purchase it…in the box. Life with four children, two daughter-in laws, one son-in law, four grandchildren, two grand-dogs, two businesses and a growing church family has not allowed for many moments by the fire or on the cabin porch. But in the interim, I have found a much greater place of rest and peace in a spot I never dreamed…the toil of everyday life.

It is, perhaps, the greatest paradox of life with Christ, and yet it is He himself who offers the invitation. “Come unto Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest”. Who would not drop all to respond to His call, who would not come running to the One who has promised rest from the weariness of life? And so, with weary hearts we come, anxious to find our place of rest with Jesus, only to discover it is not, perhaps, what we had envisioned.

I long for the serenity of a lakeside cabin, where a to-do list is as unwelcome as the plague. Jesus responds, “Take my yoke upon you.” I crave a respite from the busyness of life. Jesus says, “Learn from me, and then you will find rest for your soul.”

What is it we are to learn, what is this yoke that is easy, the burden that is light? How can adding more subtract from the load I already carry?

Jesus simply states, “I am gentle and lowly in heart”, but what does that look like? I find the answer a few chapters later as He explains, “The Son of man did not come to be served, but to serve, and give His life a ransom for many.” So incredibly simple….so unbelievably difficult!

I want to run, He says engage. I want to hide, He says find those whom you can serve. I complain I am weary, He says keep on toiling. Why? Because He loves me and He wants me to find that which my heart is truly desiring....the rest that comes from being yoked with Him, walking with Him, talking with Him, plowing with Him, serving with Him, toiling through some long, hot days with Him. It is then I learn true rest, as I sit with Him after a hard days labor, recounting the lives that were touched, the seeds that were planted, the harvest that was reaped.

It is in that moment I catch a glimpse of heaven, and where once it might have included a mansion that was more a cabin by the lake, now all I can see is Jesus, and I am at rest.

Sharing our Joy

2009-02-11T10:49:00.000-08:00

Life has settled back into what we call normal here at the Anderson house. For those of you who have wondered at the lack of blog postings this past month, it has been a wonderfully, joyous, busy time as we celebrated the wedding of our son, Brett, to his beautiful new bride, Jessica.

While it has been exciting, it also has not allowed for a lot of free time to write. I hope to have a new posting up today or tomorrow, but for now, you can share a glimpse into our joy through a few photos of the blessed event.

Blessed in the Eyes of the Lord

2009-01-10T21:37:00.000-08:00

It was not where I had planned for our study in John chapter 9 to go this past Thursday. My intent was to focus on the parallels of the man who “once was blind but now could see”. Somehow we stalled on the first couple of versus, camping on the question the disciples asked, “Who sinned, this man or his parents?” From there it was but a short leap to the topic of sickness and death, not a very uplifting way to begin a new year.

Chalk it up to being past the half-century mark in age, but whatever the reason it is a topic that has been the focal point in a number of conversations I have had of late. To be honest, I have found myself struggling with the sadness I see around me as the reality of the shortness of life here on earth takes it’s toll on friends I count quite dear. In the midst of my struggles, the Lord reminded me of something I wrote a number of years ago, shortly after the death of my beloved mother-in law. God’s truths remain and just as the re-reading of this short exhortation encouraged my own heart, I pray it will do the same for you.

June 1992

Bursting with promise, June announces its arrival, heralding the season of summer which we so longed for during the dreary days of winter. Yet even as I anticipate it’s coming, my heart is drawn back to the days of another June one year past, as I stood at the hospital room bedside of my beloved mother-in-law, knowing each breath drawn brought her one step closer to her Lord and another further away from those of us who did not wish to let her go.

“Blessed in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His saints”, writes the psalmist, but I could find no blessing in such a painful parting. Even as the last hymn was sung and the final flowers placed on her grave, I struggled with those words, knowing the emptiness I would feel in the days to come. Gone were the words of encouragement, the thoughtful deeds, the midnight prayers, the unconditional love that had sustained me through some difficult years. She had left us and life would never be the same.

We struggle so with change, with transitions, with saying good-bye to that which we hold so dear. We read the scriptures admonishing us to die continually to our old way of living if we would choose to walk anew with Christ; and though in our hearts we know it to be true, our very being resists relinquishing control, fearful of letting go of that which we know for that which we can only being to catch a glimpse. Yet, as we yield our way, as each breath we take draws us closer to surrendering all that we are...every right that we claim… to the One who wishes to bear all our burdens, what was once a fleeting hope becomes a wonderful reality. Each day we walk with Christ as our sole source of strength, we discover a peace and joy unsurpassed in our fondest dreams.

As we lay aside our own willful desires and aspirations, as we die to our own strategies and thoughts, we are ushered into a realm of living guided by His Holy Spirit. As we surrender our all to Him, He comes and dwells in our midst, offering His comfort and hope, His strength and encouragement, His unconditional love. What blessing will be ours when one day we cross death’s eternal threshold, laying aside all that we have clung to so tightly here upon this earth. In just a moment, we will enter in to His glorious presence, there to dwell forever with the One we have loved so long.

And so, with the psalmist we can say, “Blessed in your eyes oh Lord is the death, the homecoming, of those you love so well.”

A Double Portion

2008-12-24T15:54:00.000-08:00

The spicy aroma greeted him as he burst through the door. Eager to find its source, he hurriedly dismissed his books and papers, leaving them to be scattered about the entryway as he rushed into the kitchen. What delectable treat would he find today…strawberry cupcakes or maybe even chocolate chip cookies? Oh the anticipation! Squealing with delight, he could not contain his joy when there on the counter he saw, not one, but two little men fashioned from dough, smelling of ginger and dressed for the holidays in icing of green and red.

Impatiently he watched his mother wrap the fragile figures, careful not to injure a tiny arm or leg. Already the thought had come; it would never do to enjoy such a treat alone, he must find someone to share in his good fortune! Gently he placed the treasure in his pocket, savoring the moment he would taste of its sweetness.

Late afternoon sunlight was still attempting to warm the frozen landscape as he scampered back outdoors. Passing the neighborhood playground, he hesitated a moment, scanning the crowd. Yes, there was some who looked familiar, but none worthy to share in his great wealth. With quickening steps he walked and soon arrived at his destination, the now deserted schoolyard. It was here his friends would always meet, here they would shout and laugh as they engaged one another in a game of basketball or a race around the building. It was here they had shared so many wonderful moments together. But today it was quiet, no sound of footsteps echoed in the empty corridors as he sat waiting on the slide.

The last rays of sunlight danced across the empty swings and jungle gym, no longer could he remain idle. Caught up in the imagination of the young, he spent the waning minutes of the day as a conquering hero in some far off land, scaling castle walls as he fought off fire breathing dragons. It was only when darkness brought with it an urgency to start for home that he remembered the quest that brought him there to the playground. Now he must hurry home, his mother would be watching for him.

Across the field he ran, jumping the irrigation canal, scooting under the hedge, quickly hopping the neighbor’s fence until at last he came upon the street that led to his home. Pausing to catch his breath, he was hit with a keen sense of disappointment; his mission had failed, he had found no one to share in the wonderful treasure still tucked away in his coat. Still, tomorrow was another day, and with renewed enthusiasm he stopped to unwrap the small parcel, to gaze once again at his precious gingerbread boys, only to discover where once two faces full of promise had smiled back in return, all that remained were crumbled pieces of a gift that would never be shared.

If you look closely, you may find an area of your life where God has blessed you with a double portion. Too many times we safely tuck away that which we consider to be ours, intending to share it someday, even as we become entangled in a world that consumes our every thought and action. It may be your time, your talents or your resources, but the day will come when you arrive home and your Father will ask how you have shared that which He so freely gave. Oh that we may hear His words, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.”

Fear Not

2008-12-14T16:52:00.000-08:00

The announcement was made, the details explained and without hesitation, the young woman responded with a courage that causes me to pause and marvel, “Be it done unto me according to Thy word.” With those few, simple words , Mary humbly accepted all that God had promised to fulfill in and through her as she would be the chosen vessel to bear the King of King and Lord of Lords.

I have often wondered when, and if, the first wave of fear and panic filled her heart. Did she cling to the words the angel had spoken, “Fear not, for thou has found favor with God”, even as her thoughts raced with the implications of what she now must do. Was it with excitement or hesitation she sought out her beloved Joseph, eager yet so hesitant to tell him of all that had transpired. How exactly does one explain that which is inexplicable, all the while knowing it has been given from the very hand of God.

Such questions I can only ponder, but this I do know. Joseph was told and then, with haste, Mary did what any woman would be wise to consider; she gave God room to work in the life of the one she held so dear. Leaving her little village of Nazareth, Mary arose and travelled to Juda, a journey of several days, to be with her cousin Elizabeth. There she would spend the next three months without email, without phones, without ever contacting Joseph, all the while wondering, what did the future hold?

Such patience seems archaic in our instant society. We want decisions and we want them now. We want information and communication that we might have some indication of what is taking place. Oh that we might learn from the example of this handmaiden of the Lord. What God has promised, God WILL perform.

Patiently Mary waited, not prodding or pouting, but rather praying to the One who alone could bring Godly wisdom and understanding to the heart and mind of her beloved Joseph. Hear her words as she reflects upon the One who has seemingly turned her world upside down, “My soul doth magnify the Lord. And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior.”

Patient and praying, she proceeded to put her hands to the task at hand, that of practically helping her cousin Elizabeth, who, in her VERY old age, was heavy with child. For three long months Mary remained, tending to the needs of Elizabeth, helping with the housework and the cooking, lifting the load that Zacharias might otherwise have had to bear. Once THEIR promised child, John, was born, Mary knew, it was time….time to go home and learn what decision Joseph had made.

Joseph, surely such a Godly man must have agonized over his choices, petitioning the Lord for an answer to the seemingly unanswerable question, “What should I do?”

The law said she should be stoned, he had the right to demand it, but his love would not allow it. He could quietly divorce her, but that would cause her to bear the brunt of shame and disgrace that would surely be heaped upon her. Or he could marry her, knowing full well the whispers that would follow, the scorn that would be heaped upon them, even, perhaps, by their own family and closest friends.

Like Jacob of old he must have wrestled.....and then it happened. Perhaps even as Mary was slipping back into the village under the cover of night, perhaps it was at that very moment that the angel appeared unto Joseph with the answer, not only for Joseph but for all humanity, “Fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost. And she shall bring forth a son, and THOU SHALT CALL HIS NAME JESUS: FOR HE SHALL SAVE HIS PEOPLE FROM THEIR SINS.”

And then Joseph did that which every wise man would find it well to do, he obeyed the Lord. As the dawn broke he rushed to take Mary as his wife; cherishing until the day he died the one who had patiently waited and prayed for him, trusting that God does all things well.

Counting Our Blessings

2008-11-26T12:58:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving was upon us, but I felt I had very little to be thankful for that year. The past few months had brought tremendous upheaval and sorrow to our family. Without warning, a national company I worked for was closing their doors, eliminating, on short notice, a good portion of our household income. My mother-in law, the dear mother of my husband and beloved grandmother of my children, was diagnosed with untreatable liver cancer. This would be the last Thanksgiving we would spend together.

So it was with a heavy heart I sat in our little church that Wednesday evening, pondering the morrow when we would gather around the table to give thanks. Grabbing the hymnbook from its appointed place, I turned to the correct page as directed by the pastor. It was, I suppose, a great choice for the holiday at hand, but as the church family began to sing, “Count your blessings, name them one by one, count your blessings see what God has done, Count your blessings, name them one by one…” I simply didn’t have the heart to continue. I knew God was good. I knew he would see us through this difficult time. I knew his promises were true. But at that moment, I could not think of a single blessing worth counting.

When the service concluded, an elderly woman who was acquainted with our family came up and stopped in the aisle. Not really wanting to talk, I turned to the task at hand, that of trying to contain our four rowdy children who were anxious to leave the church pew to which they had been confined. Seeing I was flustered, I expected her to hurry on, but she would not be dissuaded.

With a twinkle in her eyes she proclaimed, “Such joy must be yours as you can not only count, but name your blessings.” Then she did something I will never foreget. Making her way down to where the children were, she proceeded to tap each child gently on the head as she spoke their names, “Loren, Sharon, Brett, Laura… one, two three, four." Turning again to me she proclaimed, "My dear you will find your blessings multiplied many times over during the years to come in the lives of these four. Cherish them, nourish them, enjoy them.” And with that, she gave a quick hug and walked down the aisle and out the doors of the church.

Eighteen years removed from that Thanksgiving eve, I find myself remembering and rejoicing as I realize just how true were the words of that sweet saint. In our prolonged season of difficulty and sorrow, God not only gave unto us “beauty for ashes and the oil of joy for mourning”, but he used that very time to draw us into a closer relationship with him. In that seemingly endless season of brokenness, a fresh, sweet fragrance of God’s love permeated our hearts. Out of the depths of despair was born a passionate love for Jesus, which would grow and bear much fruit in the lives of each of our children.

This Thanksgiving I find it difficult once again to count my blessings, not because they are few but because they have become innumerable. As we continue to cherish, nourish and enjoy those whom God has entrusted to our care, our hearts are filled with praise and thanksgiving to the One who has been faithful. He alone is worthy of our praise.

Whether you are walking through difficult days or times of rejoicing, it is my prayer that each of us might join with the four and twenty elders who surround the throne saying, “Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honor, and power, and might be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen.

The Melody

2008-11-15T12:46:00.000-08:00

From the far corners of the earth they had come, if not to bid, at least determined to catch a glimpse of the masterpiece to be offered. It was said no other violin in the world could match the one to be auctioned off that afternoon. To the highest bidder it would go; an instrument capable of rendering such an exquisite sound one would sell all his worldly goods to gain it’s possession. Who would be counted worthy to own such a piece?

A hush descended upon the crowd as he entered the room. A rapid crescendo of whispers followed until at last the auctioneer sounded his gavel. Of course, who better to purchase the old master’s violin than the one who had trained under him for all those years? Who but he could produce the haunting melody that left one longing for more, saddened that such a tune would ever end. Though the bids continued higher and higher, everyone knew it was he who would emerge victorious. There could be no other. It was as it should be.

Stillness crept over the hall as he cradled the violin in his arms, rapt attention given to the moment his gifted hands would bring bow and strings together. Eyes closed in anticipation, few noticed as he carefully began removing the violin’s strings, gently placing them in the aged case. Disappointed swept through the crowd as he began to explain. It would take time to fine tune such an instrument. Perhaps next week he would give a concert, perhaps next month or maybe next year. He would let them know. And with that, he turned and walked out the door.

Years passed, and those who knew him well said he was never again the same. To have such a violin in his possession was more than he could comprehend. Surely he could never recreate the beautiful melody that had flowed so freely from his master’s skillful hands. It was said he spent the remainder of his days stringing and unstringing the violin, never playing the tune for which it was made.

Has God bestowed upon you gifts that are intended to encourage your family, your friends, your sisters in Christ? Has he enabled you to minister to children or worship Him in song, to greet those who walk through the doors Sunday morning or to open your home and invite women in for a time of coffee and fellowship? Has he filled you with compassion to care for the ill or visit the lonely? Has he given you resources to share with those in need…to be the answer to someone’s prayer? Has he simply given you the ability to open your heart to someone in need of a friend?

Romans 12 tells us we have each been given “gifts that differ according to the grace given us”. The choice is yours. God masterfully orchestrates a beautiful symphony of praise. Will you remain in the wings, fine tuning the gifts you have been given or will you choose to let your life become a part of God’s melody? Choose wisely that one day you might hear those words, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little, I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.”

As I Forgive Those...

2008-11-01T14:44:00.000-07:00

The call itself was not so unusual. Over the years we would keep in touch and always it was as though no time had passed since last we spoke. Maybe it was a question I asked, maybe it was the very reason she had called, but whatever the cause, it wasn’t long until the tears began to flow and years of anger and hurt and gripping sorrow tumbled out across the line. Twelve years since the bond of marriage had been severed, twelve years since a relationship was shattered and still the pain continued to wear away at her soul.

I grieved for the broken relationship that had strewn heartache and misery in her path. In the wake of her broken marriage angry words had ensued and accusations had been made. The very cords of love which had served to bind the extended family together soon unraveled. Those with whom she had once shared sweet fellowship were now banished from ever crossing the threshold of her home. There seemed to be no balm that would heal the wound.

Now, word had reached her that the one who had so wounded her was nearing life’s end. The pain has surfaced anew, but she has vowed he will be long in his grave before she will offer forgiveness. And all the while, the tears flowed.

The significance of those words struck home several weeks later as I attended the funeral of another who had suffered a broken relationship. Raised by God-fearing parents, he had once seemed to draw near to Jesus. But like my friend, he was left hurt and bitter by the rejection of one who had professed to love him. The years had never seemed to ease the pain and rather than turning to the One who had suffered the greatest rejection of all time, he chose to sever all ties with the One who had died to offer him the greatest gift of all. Only God knows the eternal price of a broken relationship.

Forgiveness is not easy. Peter knew this to be true. He came to Jesus that day and asked “Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Till seven times? Jesus answered him, “I say not unto thee, seven times: but seventy times seven.”

Realizing how difficult this would be, the apostles said unto the Lord, “Increase our faith!”

As I gaze upon the cross and hear the words of Jesus which echo through the ages, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do”, may I humbly pray every day, “My Father who art in Heaven….forgive me my trespasses as I forgive those who have trespassed against me.”

Set Apart

2008-10-28T20:33:00.001-07:00

Surrounded by Faith, Hope and Charity (the original names of the Three Sisters Mountains) we maneuvered our way through the lava strewn terrain as we mounted the steps of the observatory at the peak of the McKenzie Pass. From our vantage atop the roof of the rock gazebo we gazed for miles and miles in every direction, our hearts filled with wonder and awe at the majesty of God’s handiwork.

I paused for a moment to ponder, “Was that how it was for Rahab, sitting atop the wall of Jericho? Did she gaze out into the distance; not to view God’s creation but rather hoping to catch a glimpse of God’s people, knowing the mighty army of Israel was encamped just over the Jordan?”

My thoughts drifted back to our retreat this past week-end where together we discovered anew the amazing grace of God in the lives of Rahab, Ruth, Tamar and Bathsheba. Of those, I find Rahab the most intriguing.

Rahab, who feared the God Jehovah who had performed such mighty miracles for the children of Israel; Rahab, who welcomed the spies as messengers from that same God; Rahab who hid the spies, confessing that Jehovah was now her God; Rahab asking that she and her entire family be preserved from the coming destruction; Rahab who risked her life in hanging the scarlet cord from her window, announcing to all that her home was set apart. Rahab; the harlot turned heroine.

I realize I would do well to learn from Rahab. How marvelous must the message have seemed to her as she learned of the hope that is given to God’s people.

Oh that I might be swift to welcome into my own life the One who spies out the deep things of God, that He might share them with me if I will but listen. I Corinthians 2 tells us “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him. But God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit: for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea the deep things of God.”

At the risk of her own life, Rahab hid the spies who had brought her the words of God. Do we treasure God’s word? Can we like the Psalmist David proclaim “Thy Word have I hid in my heart, that I might not sin against thee.” Do we declare his judgments and rejoice in his testimony? Do we meditate on his precepts and obey what he says? Is it a delight or a duty? (Psalm 119:13-16

At the risk of ridicule from her father and mother, brothers and sisters, Rahab established a place where her entire family might find salvation. Her house was set apart, covered by the scarlet cord. What WAS it in Rahab that caused them to believe and come in, that they might be saved? What is it in my house, in your house, that will cause our families to desire the covering of the blood of Christ?

I will let you ponder that as I direct your thoughts to Colossians Chapter 3: “If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth. For ye are dead and your life is hid with Christ in God. When Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory.”

The Retreat Oct 2008

2008-10-27T12:45:00.001-07:00

What a glorious week-end! Twenty-four girls from TFAB (TheFellowship at Bend) gathered together to take part in worship, to hear from God's Word, to pray and to share in a time of fun and fellowship.

I will be posting some thoughts from that retreat later tonight or tomorrow, but for now, enjoy a glimpse into our special time together.

It was fun girls, thanks for a marvelous week-end!

To Showcase His Glory

2008-10-20T21:33:00.000-07:00

I confess. I did my fair share of murmuring and complaining last winter. If you were not here or if you are one of those arctic type people who think snow falling in May is actually exciting, then you may not understand. It’s not that I don’t like snow; it’s just that I like to see it come AND go. A few inches in a few days is grand, everyone is excited to see snowmen sprouting up like weeds and who can deny the thrill of watching your grandkids race down the hill on their bright red sleds!

There is nothing more beautiful than waking up to a winter wonderland…in December…or January…or even February. But when the last vestige of snow finally sneaks away the first of May, well, you get the picture.

As you might guess, winter is not my favorite season. I tolerate it. Ask any one of my children in what season I find my greatest joy and they will respond without hesitation, “Autumn”. I absolutely revel in God’s beautiful tapestry of red and yellow, gold and orange, all set against a crisp sky of blue. The kids always cringed when asking me to drive them somewhere in the month of October, knowing full well they would be admonished to “Look at that tree!” Not once, not twice, but multiple times in but a few miles!

This year has been especially striking! From the blazing maples to the shimmering aspens, I cannot recall a year where the color has been more breathtaking. (I’m sure my children are most thankful they are now adults and can drive themselves where they want to go.) How could such exquisite beauty exist in this high desert we call home?

As I pause to try and capture the moment, I find myself thanking my Creator for not only surrounding me with such grandeur, but for creating me with the ability and desire to enjoy it. Yet even in that moment I cannot help but realize that soon the radiant hues of fall will give way to the barren starkness of winter and without warning, my joy is diminished, until…. until God reminded me of His promise in Isaiah 55:

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts, says the Lord.

For as the rain comes down, and the snow from heaven, and returns not thither, but waters the earth and makes it bring forth and bud that it may give seed to the sower and bread to the eater: so shall my word be that goes forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please...

For you shall go out with joy and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the fields shall clap their hands!

Without the snow of winter, there would be no clapping trees of fall. Without the cold dark days of winter, when the earth lies shrouded in silence, there would be no autumn symphony of color to proclaim the glory of our Creator!

So it is in our lives. If it were up to me, I would choose to live each day surrounded by the spectacular and awe inspiring. I would ask that winter never breathe its icy chill upon my soul. But that is not the way of our Lord. It is in the dark, wintery days of our life that He often does His greatest work.

In those times when it seems
all hope is lost,
buried beneath
mounting snowdrifts of doubt
and sorrow.........

it is in those times God is preparing to showcase His glory !

To Whom Shall We Go

2008-10-16T19:43:00.000-07:00

Rough was how they described it. Like sandpaper, grating on the surface of ones soul. Who can listen to it?

Bewildering and perplexing. How can these things be? Even the wise old teacher of Israel could not understand when Jesus talked of spiritual things.

Have you read the words lately? We did, this morning in our Bible study. I challenged the women to read it as a non-believer, as one hearing the words for the first time.

In John Chapter 6 Jesus tells those who have come looking for more bread for their stomachs that they must shift their gaze to the one who IS the bread of life. “Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness and they died.” That is always the way with earthly satisfaction, even of our most basic needs. Ultimately the things of this world cannot sustain us. They may provide momentary satisfaction but we will always be left wanting again and wanting more.

Although he fed the multitudes, Jesus did not come to provide us a lifetime meal ticket. Although he healed the blind and the lame, He did not die on the cross just to heal these earthen vessels that must one day return to dust. His blood was shed, His body was broken for so much more. “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall never hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst…For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks upon the Son and believes in Him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.”

This is the great hope! Though my tummy may growl and my bones groan, He will be my sustenance. He will feed the gnawing hunger in my soul, his blood will wash away the cancerous stains of sin which infect my heart. One day, not too far away, I will “Fly Away” as we sang this morning. Mortal will be swallowed up immortal; the temporal will give way to the eternal.

But there is a catch, which is what makes this a hard saying. Jesus said unto them, “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink His blood, you have not life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.”

The choice is there for every man and every woman who comes to the Cross in the road of their life. Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth and the life. No man comes to the Father but by me.” Period. It is the wall no man can scale, the chasm too wide to traverse. No amount of human effort can gain you eternal life. There is only one way. You must receive His broken body and drink of His blood that was shed as an atonement for your sin.

“What must we do to work the works of God”, they asked? “This is the work of God that you believe in Him whom He has sent.”

Many walked away that day. Jesus turned to the twelve disciples and asked “Do you want to go away as well?

Simon Peter answered with words that echo through the ensuing generations, “ Lord, to whom shall we go? You alone have the words of eternal life”.

Reflections on Jeremiah 18

2008-10-15T13:35:00.000-07:00

The vessel was beautiful. Soft gentle tones of pale gray and light heather created a delicate background for the vibrant shades of striking violet and midnight blue, which cried out to be seen and appreciated by all who encountered its loveliness. Fine lines of gold and silver adorned the rim and gracefully crafted handle, creating an altogether exquisite piece which begged the question, “Why had it been placed in service in such a common manner?”

But that was the way of the potter, each piece bore an importance all it’s own; be it intended for service to a pauper or a king.

The caller's voice reflected an urgency rarely heard in a time when pottery was so readily available. A vessel was needed! It must be made of the finest clay available; its color must be of the perfect shades, its design perfectly suited to the task at hand. The potter pondered the request as he surveyed his storehouse, confirming that which he already knew. The clay needed to mold such a vessel was not readily available; he had not seen material of that quality in several years. Yet the caller had come to him in desperation and he was not one to refuse the heartfelt need of another.

There was an answer of course, but he had much to consider. Was the risk too great? To create a vessel of such quality was difficult enough when the work was begun from an unused lump of clay, but to recreate…to remove a vessel from service...to melt it down in the fire’s heat…to remold it with intense pressure as it spun round and round on the potter’s wheel…ah, that was another story. Often cracks never present in the first creation would become visible as the potter reworked the clay. No matter how careful one was, always there was a faint hint of the prior hues, which might alter the clays ability to receive the new dye.

Then there was the question of guardianship. Would those who had carefully used and treasured the priceless vessel for so many years be willing to return it to the potter; to recommit it into his skilled hands that he might place it in service anew as he saw fit?

Though it was a painful choice, they had learned well in the years the vessel had served them and so they released it to the potter’s care.

And what of the new guardians? Would they love and protect the vessel yet to be given or would it be seen as common and ordinary, soon to be tossed aside and thoughtlessly neglected once the newness of its presence was gone? Would they see it’s beauty and delight in its loveliness or would they look only for the flaws that were certain to appear with time?

If the Potter knew, He only smiled and went eagerly about His work, for He remembered well the clay He now held in His hands. With the confidence born of one who has spent an eternity making and reshaping vessels that bring glory to their Creator, He set about His task.

Hannah

2008-10-11T20:45:00.000-07:00

I’m not sure I could have done it. I read Hannah’s story again today in First Samuel and I see a women so desperate, so despondate she is ready to promise the Lord anything. My heart aches for this woman who is so desirous of being a mother she is willing to give up the very son who is the object of her desire. In her despair she petitions the Lord and then, the miracle happens, her barren womb is opened and Samuel is born. That’s where I pause.

If I were Hannah, I think I would have looked for some wiggle room. “God, you didn’t really, literally mean you wanted me to turn over my son to you, did you?” I can hear the arguments I would have made. “Surely he would be of more value to you AFTER I have raised him up. Why don't I turn him over to you in, say, about 20 years, then he can serve you.”

But Hannah was not me. As soon as the child was weaned, she came, not grudgingly, but willingly, to present Samuel for service to the Lord. She understood something that I still at times am challenged by. All that I have is His. Her words in 1 Samuel 1:28 literally read “I have returned him who I obtained by petition”. Returned, given back to the one he has always belonged to.

How could she do it? Could you? Would you? What is most precious in your life: your house, your job, your position, your possessions, your time? If God asks, would you be willing to surrender it to Him?

What do you hold on to most tightly? Do you fear what might happen if you let go? I know I do, sometimes.

How could she do it? How can you? How can I? To know God is to trust God and from Hannah’s prayer I understand, she knew God. Read her words if today you are struggling to trust Him, if it seems all that is precious to you is no longer yours to hold on to. Read, and remember…

“There is none holy as the Lord, for there is none beside thee: neither is there any rock like our God. The Lord killeth, and maketh alive: he bringeth down to the grave and bringeth up. The Lord maketh poor, and maketh rich: he bringeth low, and lifteth up. He raiseth up the poor out of the dust and lifteth up the beggar from the dunghill to set them among princes, and to make them inherit the throne of glory: for the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s and He hath set the world upon them.”

In remembering, perhaps like Hannah, we too will be able to say, “My heart rejoiceth in the Lord!” as we willingly give back to God that which he has so graciously given to us.

What Can I Do

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Call it the curse of being a “type A” personality, or maybe it is just that I have been a mom for longer than I can remember; whatever the reason, I find I approach God much like the man in John chapter six who said to Jesus, “What shall we do that we might work the works of God”?

Whenever I read a passage of scripture or hear a teaching from the Word I immediately latch onto the “What can I do” portion. It is that which becomes my passion and purpose. Just today I was pondering the last section of Matthew 6. True to form, I considered the lilies of the field and the fowls of the air, but what I zeroed in on was the admonition to “Seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness”.

I want to have “All those things added unto me.” I want to “Take no thought for tomorrow”. But in my wanting I focus my thoughts back on me; what more can I do!

Could it be that Jesus’ response to the man in John chapter six is the ultimate answer to the dreaded “I” disease. When I am tempted to ask, “What can I do?” Jesus would respond, “Believe on Him who God has sent”.

And so I return to my pondering in Matthew. Who is this God I am called to believe in? He is my Father who knows my every need and has promised that He will provide. He will feed me, He will clothe me, He will take care of my tomorrows. All those things I spend 99.9% of my time worrying about, He looks at and says, “Done Deal!”

Where does that leave me? Gloriously free to spend time with Him, seeking His Kingdom and allowing Him to clothe me in His righteousness as He feeds me with His Word.

Pressing On

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Twenty seven years ago I stood before a group of women in Kearny, Nebraska and shared with them the words of Paul in Philippians chapter 3: “But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord.”

At that time my focus was on how much I thought I had lost and given up to know and follow Jesus. We had walked through some tough financial times and now found ourselves fifteen hundred miles from home as we followed the call of God to serve in a church in the barren plains of Nebraska. The cold winds that blew across that seemingly empty land chilled my bones but they were nothing compared to the cold wind of loneliness and desolation that filled my soul. Surely, we had given up all for Him.

The ensuing years have found us in another place where the winds blow and the snow falls, but in my heart there is a warmth that cannot be quenched. Yes, there have been gains and losses as the years have unfolded, but looking back I understand, like Paul, that it is by walking with the Lord, day after day, month after month, year after year that I am “found in him, not having mine own righteousness…that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death.”

I have known the eternal, saving love of Jesus Christ for forty-two years. He has been absolutely faithful as He promised. At the half century mark of life it would be simple for me to somehow believe I have arrived, that my work is finished, that it is time to “hang up my hat” so to speak. How easy it would be just to settle back in my cozy recliner with a good book and my cup of half and half laden hot coffee.

But in that soft, persuasive voice I have come to recognize as His spirit, I know that He is calling me to press on. The race which I am called to run is not a fifty yard dash but a cross country run that will culminate one day in reaching my final destination, “that city whose builder and maker is God”.

So, like Paul, “I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus”.

This blog is a window into that race. It will be filled with insights from His word that I pray will be an encouragement as you, too, Press On.