As They Went

There were ten of them.  Being cut off from their loved ones, perhaps they had banded together to form some kind of family.  They were forbidden to get anywhere close to anyone else.  They were walking corpses; nothing but death would release them from their disease.

They must have heard of Him; heard rumors that He had healed lepers in other towns.  This might be their only chance to ever be clean.  Maybe the desperation made them bold, made them risk getting close.  Not close enough to touch, not close enough to completely freak out people, but close enough to shout.  They knew how to shout.  Everywhere they went they were required to shout out the warning, “Unclean”. 

This time, they didn’t shout a warning.  Instead, they cried out a plea, “Have pity!”  And He saw them.  Did their hearts start to beat faster?  Did a tiny wisp of hope rise up?  But then, what was this?  Instead of approaching them, instead of healing, He sent them down the road.  Sent them to the very ones who enforced their isolation. 

What went through their minds?  Were they disappointed?  Confused?  Angry?  Did they think He hadn’t understood their request?  They could have refused to leave the Master, demanding He heal them right then.  They could have marched off in a huff, shaking their heads at the waste of time.  They could have sat down and cried, their momentary joy at His hearing them crushed. 

Instead, even though nothing seemed to have happened, they obeyed.  They started down that road, unsure of what would happen next.  They seemed to have everything to lose by walking away, and yet they went.  They started walking.  And as they went… as they went, they were cleansed.

Why did Jesus choose to heal these ten lepers in this way? (see Luke 17)  We know He wasn’t squeamish about touching the sick and diseased.  He’d touched other lepers and even the dead.  So, why did He send them off? 

I could be wrong, but I think Jesus was not just interested in healing their bodies.  I think He wanted something else to happen.  Something that could only happen as they went.  How long did it take them to notice they had been healed?  Was Jesus still in sight, or had the road dipped and turned?  We aren't told.

What we are told is that only one returned.  He came back, shouting once again, this time in praise to God.  I think as Jesus was still talking and teaching, He heard a holler way in the distance, getting louder and closer.  The decaying, stinking flesh gone, the man threw himself at Jesus’ feet.  And to him, Jesus gave not just physical restoration, but a complete healing.  

The others missed it.  The disease was gone, but their hearts were not made right.  This one, this Samaritan, who was scorned and rejected even before the leprosy, this man received the fullness of Jesus’ healing. 

When I bring a problem, a question, a prayer request to Jesus, I want His answer while I am still gazing on His face.  I want to leave Him already restored.  I want to set out with all the details sorted out.  But, time and again, what I hear Jesus say is to Go.  Like the lepers, I have a choice.  I can stay put, refusing to leave.  I can storm off, annoyed that He is not doing things my way.  I can sit down, feeling sorry for myself, doubting He has heard. 

Or, like the ten, I can go.  Even more, like the one, I can step out in faith, knowing that He who sends me desires my complete healing.  I can trust that even if I do not understand it all, in the very going, I begin to be cleansed.  I can start down that unclear path in the assurance that He sends me to return to Him, restored, renewed, praising God for His provision along the way.   

But Some Doubted

Some of my favorite verses in the Bible come at the end of Matthew 28.  You know the scene:  Jesus has risen, and is on top of the mount in Galilee with the disciples.  In mere moments, He will ascend to His Father.  Before He leaves, Jesus has some final instructions for His followers… 

I can hear you now:  Well, duh, Kim!  You’re going to be a full-time missionary, so of course you love this.  It’s kind of a job requirement, isn’t it?

As much as I love The Great Commission – and, I truly do! – the verses that fill me with hope are the ones just in front of it:

“Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go.  When they saw Him, they worshiped Him; but some doubted.” (Matt. 28:16-17)

Did you get that?  Some doubted.  Some doubted!  Let’s take a moment to review: 

These eleven had walked dusty roads with Jesus for three years.  They had witnessed Him driving out demons, healing the sick, teaching with authority and power, crossing racial and cultural barriers to eat with sinners, heal Gentiles, and accept water from a Samaritan woman.  The disciples had watched Him clear the temple in righteous anger, confront the legalistic Pharisees, change water to wine, and raise Lazarus (and others!) from the dead.  They had been in the Upper Room when He washed their feet, shared a final Last Supper, and prayed for them.  They had scattered and fled in terror as He was betrayed by one of their own, arrested, and led away to a gruesome death by crucifixion. 

Huddled and hiding in a room, they had heard the women share the unbelievable story of meeting the angels sitting at the empty tomb.  Mary, who had been freed of demons at His command, said she had actually spoken to Him!  Then, despite the locked door, Jesus Himself appeared in the room with them.  Not a ghost, He ate with them, showing them His hands and side.  Just as He had told them, again and again, He had died and then risen again on the third day. 

And now, here they were, one less than before, in front of their resurrected Lord.  He had proven Himself to be exactly who He claimed to be.  Very God of Very God.  They worshiped Him, the only One worthy of their praise.  And yet… and yet, some doubted. 

There are days when I doubt.  Oh, not the fact that Jesus is who He says He is.  I doubt, though, that He loves me with an everlasting love.  I doubt that all will be well.  I doubt that God can use messed-up me.  I doubt that I can be faithful to Him.  I doubt I can fully trust Him.  I doubt.

And in those days, I recall these verses.  First, I remember that the disciples went.  Even if they had some reservations, some doubts, they went “where Jesus had told them to go”.  My call is to follow where Jesus is leading.  It’s okay if I don’t get it all right now.  It’s okay if I’m still not sure of all the details.  I am faithful when I go where He sends.

And then, oh, glory, I think about the fact that I’m even able to think about this.  I am sitting here, pondering these things in a language that did not exist back then, in a place on none of their maps.  More, all around the world, today others are reading Jesus’ words, living in Holy Spirit power, continuing the work of the Great Commission. 

Think about it.  Jesus knew some doubted, and yet He still left.  How could He do that?  Because He knew He was not leaving these weak, fractious, doubting men alone.  The Holy Spirit was coming, and He would transform this motley little bunch into a passionate force who would reach out into Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. 

Jesus assured the disciples He would be with them always.  Not when they got their act together and stopped doubting.  Always.  That is our promise, too.  We can go where Jesus commands, because He is with us.  He is accomplishing His purposes, and His plans will not be thwarted.  Even in our doubts, we can be used.  Even in our doubts, God can be glorified.  In the midst of our doubts, may we go where He leads, and worship Him today. 

Pretzel Bends

I start my workout on the mat.  I sit down, legs stretched out straight.  I bend forward, reaching my arms until I can clasp my hands around the soles of my feet.  Pulling my legs wide, I drape myself first over my right leg, then my left.  I move to the center, my head near the floor.  I end sitting up, twisting at my waist way around left and right.  I stand and look over to the leg machines.  Someone is on “my” machine.  The one I always start with.  Now I have to start on something else.  My entire workout has to be rearranged, and I am aggravated.  Grr.

I’ve always been flexible.  I’ve always been able to place my palms on the floor doing a standing front bend, do back bends and pretzel bends.  I’ve also always been incredibly inflexible.  I like my routine and get annoyed when something throws a wrench in my plans.  Unfortunately, not just in the gym!  Interruptions, unexpected turns, changes in schedule, all throw me off-kilter.  I hate it, but I just can’t seem to help it.  I guess you’re either flexible or you’re not, right?

At one point in my 30’s I noticed that while I could still touch my toes, my palms no longer made it to the floor.  I started a pretzel bend but got stuck part-way through.  I had stopped doing any stretching, and while I wasn’t paying attention, I started losing flexibility.  I had to begin retraining my muscles.  A little further, then a little more.  The first few attempts hurt like crazy, but I put up with the pain because I knew it was a necessary part of the process.  I stuck with it, and as I slowly increased my reach, I started regaining my flexibility.  It wasn’t a quick fix, but it was worth it.  Oh, I still get stiff sometimes, when I don’t take time to stretch.  I know it’s something I have to be intentional about doing. 

Some people are naturally more flexible than others.  Of course, I’m not just talking physical flexibility!  Some people seem able to roll with the punches and even enjoy when things don’t go according to plan.  It’s not an ‘interruption’, it’s a ‘holy appointment’!  I don’t get how they do it, but I sure envy them.  That’s just not me, though.  There’s nothing I can do to change that, is there? 

Our bodies are temples and we are urged to offer them as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God (Romans 12:1).  I want to present an offering which is as fit (and flexible!) as possible.  Bodies can be trained to stretch, lift, run, jump, do incredible things.  As remarkable as this is (after all, God did create them!), our minds are also able to be trained.  Paul urges us to allow them to be transformed (12:2). 

It’s a cop-out to say I can’t learn to be more flexible.  Like physical flexibility, it takes work, and it’s not a one-time thing.  In fact, I have a feeling it’s a lifelong process!  Is it going to be uncomfortable and even downright painful at times? Yeah, pretty sure.  Will I have setbacks when the inflexibility starts creeping in?  Yep.  Is it worth it to learn to be more like Jesus?  Oh, my, yes!  Can I do it?  Nope, not on my own.  Thankfully, I don’t have to!  Jesus spent His time intentionally, but He was also willing to be interrupted.  What a beautiful and healing encounter occurred because He was willing to stop along the way to important work in order to free a woman from 12 years of bleeding and pain (Luke 8).  He is with me in this.  Limber up!

This Just In!

To learn more about my new country, I’ve been reading a website called DominicanToday which has daily news (in English) from the Dominican Republic.  Most of it is about places and people I’ve never heard of – including, I hate to admit, the country’s president, Leonel Fernandez.  This morning the headlines include violence in barrios, a shooting, the cholera outbreak, the president’s trip to Geneva and several articles on Haiti and how ongoing issues there impact the D.R.

I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t concern me a little to read this stuff.  Especially since this particular website likes to include close up pictures of those killed.  It is disturbing to see the blood and brutality.  Of course, news from the U.S., my current home, is not much better!  Violence, shootings, economic worries, political vitriol… the D.R. does not have the corner on negative stories! 

It helps to remind myself that news agencies filter through any number of stories to find the ones that will attract the most attention.  More happened in the D.R. yesterday than a shooting and a cholera death.  Just like more is happening in the U.S. than the Super Bowl and the State of the Union Address (no, really, there is!).

Yes, that does help.  But, the bad news still freaks me out.  So, what should I do?  My preferred method for dealing with stuff that is scary and awful is to avoid it.  Turn off the news, plug my ears and sing a happy little song to myself.  Ignorance is bliss, and what I don’t know can’t hurt me, right?  Hmmm…    

I have a choice.  I can choose to avoid what’s happening, or I can confront my fears and keep reading.  The reality is, there is bad stuff going on each and every day in each and every part of the world.  The entire creation groans under the curse of the fall.  I shouldn’t be surprised at all the bad news, I should be surprised that there is any good news at all.  Oh, yeah… Good News.  How quickly I forget that!

Jesus was born into a world filled with blood and brutality.  He spent 33 years living with broken people.  People who suffered under the Pax Romana, but also under the sins of their own lives.  Why did He spend all that time on earth before He was crucified?  Couldn’t He have just shown up one day, saved us, and then headed back Home?  Since God is God, yeah, I imagine He could have chosen to save us like that.  But, for some reason, He chose instead to dwell among us.  Might that be important?! 

I am a Christ-follower.  That means following His way of ministering.  It’s not enough to swoop in with the Good News and then swoop out to my safe nest, no dust or dirt clinging to me.  Like Jesus, I am called to live and walk among the brokenness. 

God is not calling me to a country without problems.  What would be the point?  I know there is bad stuff happening in the D.R.  After all, it is a part of our broken world!  You know, I think what I don’t know is, in fact, hurting me.  It is keeping me from beginning to identify, even now, with the concerns and needs of those I will become a part of.  It was important for Jesus to be with the people, so I’m pretty sure it’s important for me, too!

Yes, I need to keep it all in perspective, but I need to be learning.  So, I will take a deep breath and keep reading.  As I read, however, I’ll also continue to fill my heart with the Good News.  The Good News which proclaims release from brokenness through the Word who became flesh and lived among us, full of grace and truth.  That’s some headline, eh?! 

A Modest Proposal

(Or WHY I THINK WE SHOULD RETIRE JEREMIAH 29:11)

So, fair warning, this one may step on some toes.

What is God’s plan for my life?  If I’m being honest, I have to admit I have this idea that God owes me this amazing, fulfilling, awesome life with just a smattering of tough times which neatly resolve into a beautiful happy ending.  After all, God loves me and has a wonderful plan for my life.  The proof?  Jeremiah 29:11, of course! 

Don’t get me wrong, I love this verse – it was my high school grad theme and I have it on my office door! – but I’m wondering if we need to ‘retire’ it.  Why?  I believe pulling out this single verse causes major problems.  Huh?  We tell young graduates (and ourselves!) that God’s plan for them is that they won’t be harmed and that they will prosper.  We set them (and yes, ourselves!) up to question anything that happens which seems harmful, or doesn’t fall into our definition of prospering. 

God gave us the entire Bible, not just the palatable parts.  Which means, we need to read it all to really get what God is saying.  No one story sums up everything God chooses to reveal about Himself.  No one verse gives us everything we need to know about living for Him.  I am guilty of focusing on the stories, verses, definitions, characteristics of God that match up with my needs.  Then, in those times when life isn’t going my way, when I don’t seem to be prospering, well, I get confused, angry, disappointed.    

Through the Bible we can see a single overarching story woven through all the smaller ones.  What is the focus of that story?  Nope, not man’s redemption.  Not how much God loves us.  All of that is absolutely there!  But, the focus of the Bible is God.  It is God’s plan, God’s purpose, God’s glory.  The plan for my life is a part of that bigger plan.  God’s plan for my life is that He is glorified.  It’s that simple.

Oh, yeah, glory.  We love glory!  Glory means eloquent words which always lead sinners to Christ.  Glory means singing so beautifully it brings crowds to tears.  Living a comfortable life which shows the world the advantages of loving God.  Glory means… putting hands on leprous skin.  Having no home, no place to lay one’s head.  Being despised, rejected, beaten, crucified. 

I’m not proposing we start writing Isaiah 53 on grad cards!  What I am suggesting is that we stop pulling out a single verse to match our image of God’s wonderful plans for our lives.  Instead let’s commit to doing the harder, slower work of digging into all of His Word.  I think we’ll find that yes, in fact, God’s plans are not to harm us, and to prosper us.  But, I think we’ll gain a better understanding of what God’s definitions of words like harm, prosper, plan and glory truly are! 

Where to start?  Maybe read all of Jeremiah 29.  Read the chapters around it.  Be reminded that the reason the Jews were in exile, needing comfort was that they had sinned and stopped loving God with all their hearts.  Taken in context, verse 11 is so much more beautiful and hope-filled than simply my little life-plan!  Praise God, He is not limited by my small vision.  May I live all of my life for all of His glory, the parts I like, and perhaps even more, the parts I don’t yet understand!!

Prostitutes and Inn-Keepers

Have you noticed people talking about authenticity lately?  It seems to be the new ‘buzzword’.  Whether it’s in politics, news stories, or even in church circles, being authentic is in.  I find it all a little goofy.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of being genuine, transparent, authentic.  I just find it strange being real is a rare enough trait that it’s held up as something special. 

It’s especially troubling in the church.  Why is it so difficult for Christians to be really real?  What makes us so hesitant to share our pain and struggles?  Maybe we think we are honoring God by pretending that living for Him is all sunshine and rainbows.  We have this notion that God needs our help in protecting His image.  And, often the way we do this is by trying to gloss over the less than palatable stuff.  We do it in our own lives, yes, but even worse, we tend to do this with what God reveals to us in the Bible!

I meet with a small group of young women on Sunday nights.  This year we’re studying women in the Bible.  We’re starting off with Jesus’ genealogy.  First up, Tamar.  Have you read her story (Genesis 38)?  It’s hardly one to put in the ‘Family Memory Book’!  In fact, all four women listed in Matthew 1 have stories with ‘not nice’ details.  Tamar arranged to sleep with her father-in-law, Rahab was a prostitute, Bathsheba committed adultery, Ruth was a heathen Moabite.

And yet, these are the women the Holy Spirit led Matthew to include.  Makes our attempts to ‘shine up’ God’s image a little ridiculous, doesn’t it?  Think about it:  if God was worried about His reputation being tarnished by these messed up stories, why are they in the Bible?  Since the Holy Spirit inspired every single word, I’m pretty sure He could have arranged for these particular words not to be included!

Some of the commentaries I’ve read make a point of saying Rahab wasn’t really a prostitute.  No, that was just what they called inn-keepers back then.  Seriously?!  To me that pretty much sums up this whole authenticity thing.  If we cannot allow the Bible to say what it says, without trying to sweeten it up so it goes down more easily, no wonder we spend so much of our energy trying to cover our own less-than-savory parts!  It’s crazy!

No, it’s not crazy, it’s sin.  When we present a fake, cleaned up face to the world, we’re essentially saying God only loves us when we get our act together.  We’re saying God is not capable of handling the sins of the world.  We’re saying the Gospel alone is not enough.  And when we substitute in our weak, watered down version for the Living, Holy Lord God Almighty, what else can we call it?  It is sin.

It’s not easy to be open and honest.  I know that.  But, being fake is sin.  Ouch.  Blessed are the real.  The ones who are unashamed to be themselves because their stories have been redeemed by Jesus.  Really, how cool is it that God knows us – every bit of us – and still loves us?!  Isn’t that what the world needs to hear? 

If I show the world the real me, it’s gotta show how incredible God is.  I mean, if God can love someone like me, there’s hope for everyone!  After all, like the women in Jesus’ genealogy, He calls each one of us by name.  That is really worth sharing, don’t you think?

Come Quickly, Lord Jesus!

Come quickly, Lord Jesus!  Growing up, I remember hearing my mom say this when she heard bad or sad news.  I can’t say I was too keen on it.  I mean, I was young and had my whole life in front of me, and I didn’t really want Jesus coming back anytime too soon.  Or, at least not before our class trip to the CN Tower… or camping in Banff… or my first date… or High School grad… or going to college… or… Well, you get the picture!

Back then, the world was spread out before me, filled with possibilities and pleasures.  I still see the world spread out, but now it seems filled with so much pain and brokenness.  Globally there is unrest, turmoil, and downright frightening news.  Nigeria, Sudan, Iran, North Korea, Afghanistan… Even creation itself seems to be falling apart.  Flooding in Australia, snow, ice and bitter cold through Europe and North America.  And, today is the one-year anniversary of the earthquake that devastated Haiti. 

Closer to home the suffering becomes personal.  In the past weeks we have had several deaths of church members or their families.  Friends and loved ones experiencing their own devastations.  Cancer, job losses, marriage troubles, addictions, financial concerns.  My mom’s words come back to me.  Come Quickly, Lord Jesus!

The hugeness of it all can leave me paralyzed.  What can I do in the face of all of this pain?  The overwhelming suffering tempts me to withdraw and hide.  Safe in my little ‘spiritual cocoon’ I repeat my mantra, shutting out the world.  To paraphrase an old saying, I can become so ‘Heaven-minded’ that I become ‘of no earthly good’.  Well, since this world is not my true Home, isn’t that okay?

When I look at Jesus’ time on earth, He didn’t spend His days just gazing up to Heaven.  Instead, He entered into every aspect of our pain and turmoil.  Even when He withdrew to lonely places, He did so to be refreshed and refilled in His Father’s presence, not to escape suffering.  And when Jesus ascended, He commissioned His followers to go out into all the world, continuing to reach out as He did. 

I’m beginning to see that Come Quickly, Lord Jesus is not just about someday in the future.  It is also not asking Jesus to return so we can escape the world, or throwing up our hands in dismay.  It is not abdication.  Instead, it is a rallying cry, calling Christ-followers to join the in-breaking work of our King.  We are the Bride of Jesus, and we are never more beautiful than when covered with the grime and blood and muck and mess of the world. 

Oh, yes, I long for the day when the new Jerusalem comes down and every tear is wiped away!  But, in the meantime, the cry still resounds - Come Quickly, Lord Jesus.  Come and indwell me with Your power and strength.  Holy Spirit, reach into the world through these feeble, but willing hands.  Come Quickly.  Come Today.

Imagine That!

Today is my sixth anniversary as a Church Administrator.  I’ve been pondering how I got to this point, and where I’m heading next.  As some of you know, I came to First Pres after many years in Human Resources in the meat and poultry industries.  Now, when I started working in that field, the thought of working for a church never entered my mind.  And yet, 12 years later, there I was.  When I started working for First Pres, the thought that I would one day go into missions never entered my mind.  And yet, six years later, here I am. 

I’m a planner, and yet, looking at my life, a majority of it is filled with things I hadn’t ever considered.  Trust me, when I graduated from college with a Psych degree, working where animals came in on their feet, and left in plastic-wrapped containers, was definitely NOT in my life-plan!  The thing is, working in Human Resources on the third shift of a slaughter plant has equipped me in many ways.  (Not to mention given me a veritable plethora of unbelievable stories!)

I love the verse in Ephesians which says God is able to do more than we ask or imagine.  Our ability to imagine is a gift from the Creator of the universe, allowing us to look past ourselves and glimpse a bit of His bigger view.  But, because of sin, it’s only a glimpse.  Which is why I’m so thankful God isn’t limited to my thoughts and ideas!  Because, the reality is, my view of the world is downright puny.  In fact, looking back, I can see how my need to try and direct all the details has often limited my ability to enjoy God’s amazing and unexpected working in my life.

Today is my sixth anniversary.  That’s 72 months.  I have only 4 more before I begin my new adventure.  Very honestly, I can’t begin to imagine what that’s really going to be like.  Even though I’ve been there twice, what will it be like to live and serve in Jarabacoa full-time?  Is this going to be God’s final move for me?  Or, will there be something else around a bend far off down the road?  I don’t know. 

What I do know is that if my life had turned out like I planned, it would be small and boring.  A life lived on my terms alone takes no imagination.  It is safe and puny.  Which begs the question: is that the kind of life Jesus came to redeem?  Think about it – while we still sinners, unable to ask for anything, God sent Jesus.  I mean, could any of us on our own ever have imagined God being willing to take on human flesh, human sins? 

We are Christ-followers, and that means we are pretty much guaranteed unboring, unsafe lives.  If the world hates Me, Jesus told His disciples, it will hate you, too.  To be faithful to Him is only going to be possible with the immeasurable power of God at work in us!  But, we have His promise that He will be with us.  What does my future look like?  I’m not completely sure.  But, I am confident that it’s going to be way more than I could ask or even imagine!

Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever!  Amen. 

Ephesians 3:20-21

Now

Just wanted to give all of you an update.  First of all, the Z-pack seems to be working, and I am heading back in to work.  I’m hoping by the weekend I’ll even be able to get back to the gym!  Yay!  Of course, I haven’t attempted to talk yet, so we’ll see if the bullfrog is gone. 

I’m thankful to be on the mend physically, but that’s not the main reason for this update.  If you read yesterday’s post, you know I was in a rather bleak place.  It was scary to admit I was exhausted, that I wasn’t desiring time with God, that I didn’t like Him sometimes.  As scary as that was to admit to anyone reading my blog (what kind of a would-be missionary thinks that way about God?!), it was even scarier to admit to myself.  And, having to admit it to God… that was downright terrifying.

I did what I said I was going to do, and spent the better part of the day resting.  Too drained to do anything productive, I just was.  And, in that act of letting go, of having nothing to offer God but my dried up heart, He met me.  Not in any weird or flashy way.  I don’t think I could have handled that!  Instead, in small, quiet ways, God reassured me of His love and care for me.  In a nap, in yummy soup a friend dropped off, in an encouraging support update.

As crazy as it is, I’m thankful to God for allowing me to get sick, to get run down emotionally and physically, because it took getting to that place to realize how spiritually wiped out I’ve been.  Remember Elijah?  After going up against the prophets of Baal, Elijah winds up sitting under a broom tree, fearful and feeling sorry for himself.  Look at all I’m doing for You, God!  Hmmm… I think I hear an echo!! 

God sends an angel to minister to Elijah’s physical needs and invites him to come away.  The God who sent fire to burn up wood, stone and soil, meets Elijah not in wind or earthquake or more fire, but in a quiet voice.  That is what I experienced yesterday.    It’s almost as if God waited patiently while I ran around and around in circles, wearing myself out.  He waited until I collapsed and then whispered, Now.  Now you are ready for me to help you.   

Psalm 46:10 invites us to be still and know that God is God, not when things are calm, but as they are crashing around us.  One translation say to ‘cease striving’.   Oh, how I hope one of these days I get wise enough to slow down and cease my striving!  To recognize the signs along the way, so I can quiet my heart to hear God’s voice long before I’m under that broom tree!  Discipleship truly is a lifelong process, isn’t it?!

As I end, I want to thank you for allowing me to share my life openly and honestly.  Just writing this stuff out is a huge help!  I pray that reading my journey is an encouragement.  I pray if any of you are struggling, you will take comfort in knowing you are not alone.  And, if you are wearing yourself out, I invite you to cease striving, to be still, to allow our loving Father to whisper to you, too.

Don't Blog When You're Sick!

I’ve shared some of my struggles in past posts.  Today I confess that despite my attempts to ‘get past’ my thorn, to live in joy, to spend time with Jesus, to allow the Holy Spirit to work in me, what’s been happening is just the opposite.  Instead of eagerly seeking time with Jesus, I find myself angry and frustrated with Him.  Here I am, getting ready to leave everything for Him, and things aren’t going like I thought they’d be. 

Every part of my life feels out of control right now.  But, I’m trying to serve You!  Why isn’t the funding coming in more quickly, why can’t I get things together at work, why am I still struggling with my thorn, why aren’t You sending me reassurances?  And, really, on top of it all, I’m sick?!

 As my fear about the future seeps in, my time with God has become increasingly trite and shallow.  I shouldn’t tell you this, but there have been times lately when I haven’t even really liked Him.  And so, I’ve kind of been avoiding any real interactions.  Oh, I’m going through the motions because I know it’s the right thing to do.  And, honestly, at a deeper level, I know that this is not about Him, but about me - Which is hardly comforting!

I am so tired of the struggle.  I feel like Jacob in the Old Testament, wrestling with God through the night.  Like Jacob, my tomorrow looms ahead with scary stuff.  He was going to face Esau, with a real possibility of pain or even death!  Like Jacob, I’ve thrown everything I can at the situation in the vain hope that somehow I can control the outcome.  Like Jacob, I am engaged in an all-consuming match, holding tight, refusing to let go.

As dawn approached, the man touched Jacob’s hip, and it was wrenched from its socket.  Jacob walked with a limp from that day on.  So, all I can look forward to is yet another wound to carry with me?  This is also not particularly comforting!!  All of this just makes me even more exhausted.  I am taking a sick day today because my body has told me in no uncertain terms it needs time to rest and recuperate.  I’ve kept pushing ahead through my cold, and probably prolonged getting better through my sheer stubbornness.

Being in control is a huge issue for me.  You might call it an obsession, even.  Am I trying to wrestle God into coming near?  Is my holding on for dear life not a virtue, but another issue of trust?  Did the ancient wrestling match go on all night because it was God’s choice, or Jacob’s?  If one touch displaced his hip, God could have stopped things at any point.  I wonder… Was Jacob’s wound perhaps not punishment, but actually merciful?  Did it take something that severe to get Jacob to stop fighting long enough to ask for a blessing?  I don’t know, but it’s worth pondering. 

I don’t have a nice, neat bow for this post.  For today, I’m just naming my exhaustion.  For today, I’m not going to fight.  For today, I’m not even praying that I’ll wake up tomorrow limping yet restored.  For today, I’m just going to be sick and tired.  And for today, that’s going to have to be enough.

Cheer Up!

I’m fighting a nasty cold, which always makes me grumpy.  I get very annoyed when I get sick.  I try to eat a low-fat healthy diet with plenty of fruits and veggies (although Christmas goodies were def a part of the past few weeks!!)  I exercise regularly (even in the holiday season!).  I take a multi-vitamin plus additional calcium every day.  And yet, here I am, stuffed up head, bleary eyes, achy, coughing – the whole Nyquil ad in the flesh.  How dare my body, which I treat so well, pay me back like this?!  It’s simply not fair, and I’m not happy.

People laugh at me when I get indignant about being sick.  I’ll admit, it is rather silly.  Lots of people are fighting the ‘flu right now.  People with even better habits than mine!  And honestly, as icky as I feel, compared to those with real pain, this is nothing.  How fair is it that someone is battling cancer for the third time in five years?  Or unable to defeat an addiction?  Or watching a spouse drift further away?

It’s not fair.  So, what do we do?  Confronted by an agonized, “Why?” we can be tempted to give a pat ‘spiritual’ answer.  I know it can be just not knowing what to say.  We get overwhelmed by the person’s tangible pain, and so we make some vague comment about all things working for good or not being given more than we can handle.  Yes, I know, in the shadow of Eternity, my few years here on earth are like withering grass.  But, you know what, that doesn’t actually help!

One of the best gifts I was ever given was after two of my three staff resigned in two days.  I was in shock and even though it wasn’t because of me, I still took it personally.  A dear friend did not try and cheer me up and tell me it was all going to be okay.  She simply said, Today really sucks.  I so needed someone to understand that and name it!    

I do believe, with all that is in me, God can and will work out His will, in spite of, and even through suffering.  In my own life I have seen beauty and hope come from the ugliness of sickness, divorce, brokenness.  But, while it was going on, what I needed, what I think we all need, is not someone to cheer us up, and explain why we shouldn’t feel so bad, but someone to first sit with us right where we are. 

Let’s be honest.  Being around those in pain is tough.  Truly meeting others in their broken places takes something out of us, too.  Maybe that’s why we try and spiritualize things.  It keeps it at a safe distance.  But, as a Christ-follower, I’m not called to live at arms’ length.  I’m not called to give deep, wise answers while keeping my hands clean.  I’m called to get down in the mess.  To allow tears and screams and anger to impact my life.  To open my life to another’s heartbreak and despair and shattering pain.  To sit with the Why’s and be willing to admit I don’t have an answer.

I think we all know people suffering right now.  People whose lives resemble a warzone.  Jesus calls me to die for Him.  How can I do that if I never enter the battle?  It’s scary.  But, if I believe that my life is hidden in Christ, I can take a deep breath, put on His armor, and step into the fray of someone else’s messy life.  From that place, with Jesus’ help, perhaps we will one day move on to see some beauty bloom.  Until then, when someone is in pain, I want to say Today really sucks, and be in it with them.

One, One, One-One

Today is January 1, 2011.  New Year’s Day.  I’m supposed to write about new beginnings and resolutions and things I’m going to do different/better/more.   My first post of the new year should be profound and beautiful – and perhaps make you wipe a tiny tear from the corner of your eye.  Okay, this should be easy…

But, here I sit.  Instead of deep thoughts, my mind keeps flitting from idea to idea, never resting on any one thing.  That’s the state of my life right now.  My desk at work is a cluttered mess, here at home there is clutter on my kitchen counters, in my closets, bedrooms, living room…

My time with Jesus has become cluttered, too.  I start praying and then my mind spins off on tangents and to-do lists.  I’ve got about four of those going right now!  There are all kinds of things I need to be doing.  My final day at First Pres is in 133 days – and that includes weekends.  I’m not brave enough to count only the ‘business days’ left!! 

When Jesus started His ministry, did it worry Him that He had only 1095 days (including Sabbaths!) to do what had to be done?  My first thought is, Of course not!  After all, Jesus was fully God.  But, Jesus was also fully human.  He was tempted in every way we are.  Was He tempted to push further, do more, heal more, teach more?  He knew what was at stake.  He knew how much the people of the world suffered in their sin and brokenness.  I don’t think it’s wrong to believe Jesus may have been tempted to overfill His schedule. 

But, Jesus resisted every temptation, including this one.  The more I read of Jesus’ life, the more I see that Jesus didn’t just float through life, allowing things to happen to Him.  He sometimes left a region even though there were still sick people waiting to be healed.  He avoided certain places because the timing was wrong.  He pulled away from huge crowds to spend time teaching just a handful of disciples.  He even moved in the events surrounding His arrest, trials and crucifixion to bring them to their needed outcome.

How did He do all of that?  Jesus first concern, His first focus, His first motivation was always bringing His Father glory by accomplishing His will.  Jesus didn’t have to dither about trying to decide.  “My food is to do the will of the One who sent Me” (John 4:34).  Everything Jesus did was done for that single purpose.  Jesus lived a life of clarity, not clutter.  All parts of His life brought glory to His Father.

Jesus told the flustered Martha, “You are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed – or indeed only one.” (Luke 10:41b-42a)  Only one.  The invitation has not changed.  It’s not an invitation to ignore the pressing realities of our lives, but to put them in proper perspective.  It is a promise that when we seek God’s Kingdom first, the rest falls into place (Matt. 6:33). 

So, for today, One, One, One-One, I am choosing the One thing I truly need.  Not because there aren’t tons of other things to be done, but because this One thing matters most.  I will choose to ponder the amazing glory of God.  I will rejoice in His will being accomplished.  When the clutter and lists and fretting start clamoring for attention, I will cling to the promise that by sitting at Jesus’ feet, this One thing, this better thing, “will not be taken away” (Luke 10:42b).