Heaven is for Real

From the moment I began to read the story of Todd and Sonja Burpo and their son Colton, I was fascinated.  This is a human drama of a family from rural America faced with the very real chance of their 3 ½ year old son dying before their eyes, so they set out to fight for his survival.  Going to battle for him, both on the medical and spiritual front, they watch this tiny little warrior pull through, only to later hear an amazing story from him.  Little Colton tells his parent, in the matter of fact way that only toddlers can, of being in Heaven.  Skeptical at first, as I admit I am, his parents are brought around as details that he could not possibly know first-hand trip glibly off this four year old tongue. 

On a human level, I was touched and moved.  I was encouraged and smiled widely to think of my own dad whom only a few months ago I bid farewell to as a not quite 71 year old Alzheimer’s patient, young again in the place Colton described so vividly.  To visualize him with no physical ailments and with a mind sharp and keen again is a wonderful image, no doubt.  As I read of Colton being swept into an embrace by the sister miscarried by his mom that he never knew about, I felt tears coursing down my cheeks.  As this child reassured his mother that Jesus’ Dad had adopted this little girl and that she couldn’t wait for her parents to arrive in heaven, I pictured all the people I knew over the years grieving over their personal losses.  I, too, have an unnamed child awaiting, and at least three grandchildren who will be added to our family table.

These details are things that make me yearn for this story to be true, for they are elements that bring peace and joy to our hearts.  To think of Jesus holding children on His lap in Heaven and answering our prayers personally is our dream.  But I am stumped as to how and why this happened, I guess.  Why this little boy, and why now?  Why not more often?

Paul was taken up to the third heaven, I know, but was forbidden to speak of the things he saw.  So why was little Colton given liberty the Apostle Paul wasn’t?  I don’t know.  Is this story true?  I’m not sure. 

But this I do know:  We do not base our faith on books written by men, we do not look for peace, comfort and truth in the tales told by our fellow men or pastors.  Truth comes from the inspired Word of God.  That is the basis for our hope, that is where we must look for truth.  If what we read does not line up with the Word, we must wonder.  But, in spite of it all, they did get the title right, because Heaven is so Real.

Circling the Pit of Despair

When someone asked me recently why I had not written anything on my blog for awhile, I was surprised.  First of all, I guess, that someone had noticed, secondly that it had been almost two months.  I’m not counting the book reviews.  The fact is that I’ve made several attempts.  That were horrendous.  The reason is rather embarrassing for me: I’ve been circling the pit of despair. 
    Notice I said circling this pit, not that I’ve been in it.  To be completely honest, I’m not sure if I’m qualified to diagnose myself, but I’m going to do it anyway.  I’ve tried to avoid jumping right in simply because I’m terrified I’d never get out.  Being a child of God has helped me simply because I have continued to stay in the Word on a daily basis, and while I haven’t had the same joyous fellowship as at other times I fear where I would be if I had been fasting from God’s Word. 
    How I came to be at this particular place is unimportant, but not irrelevant.  Circumstances, health, age, whatever.  Things conspire together to bring us to a place where we feel down, defeated, even somewhat near despair.  For me, it was a culmination of a year-long series of events, maybe longer.  Then a change of medication finally did me in.  Sure enough, when I researched it on line, there it was in black and white: one of the side effects was depression.  Terrific.  Just what I needed in my life.  But what to do about it?  I refuse to get in the medication maze.  Take this one to treat this condition, then this one to off-set this side effect which brings on a whole other set of issues.  No, that will not be my life.   But I could not deny the reality of what I am dealing with.  Then I read Psalm 77.
    The mind is real.  No doubt about it.  God created it, he designed it.  He designed me and He knows me.  He cares about me.  So on the morning I was feeling the most despair, this is what I read.

I cried  unto God with my voice, even unto God with my voice;
And he gave ear unto me
In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord:
My sore ran in the night, and ceased not:
My soul refused to be comforted.
I remembered God, and was troubled:
I complained and my spirit was overwhelmed.

Now read verse 10-14:

And I said, This is my infirmity: but I will remember the years of the right hand of the most High
I will remember the works of the Lord:
Surely I will remember thy wonders of old
I will meditate also of all thy work, and talk of thy doings
Thy way O God, is in the sanctuary:
Who is so great a God as our God?
Thou art the God that does wonders:
Thou has declared thy strength among the people.

    How will I deal with this ‘infirmity’?  By remembering God…by remembering the works of the Lord, the wonders of old, by meditating on all of His works and talking about how great my God is.  When I focus not on me, not on what is going on with me and how I am doing, but by simply remembering Him, who He is, what He has done for me, I will find a way.  The last few verses of the Psalm go like this:

Thou hast with thine arm redeemed thy people, the sons of Jacob and Joseph.  Selah
The waters saw thee, O God, the waters saw thee;
They were afraid: the depths also were troubled.
The clouds poured out water: skies sent out a sound:
Thine arrows also went abroad.
The voice of thy thunder was in the heaven:
The lightnings lightened the world: the earth trembled and shook
Thy way is in the sea, and thy path is in the great waters,
And thy footsteps are not known
Thou leddest thy people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

    Remember the children of Israel?  Lost in the wilderness, God cared for them, protected them, and led them.  Just like He did for them, He gives me the same promises.  Redemption.  Protection from the waters of fear overflowing me, water in the dry desert of my soul for refreshing, arrows for defense against the attacks of the enemy, His voice and His light, His path for guidance and the assurance that He will lead me out of this darkness. 
    Psalm 77 has the word ‘Hope’ written beside it in my Bible.  I am His child, and I do not have to live beside the pit of despair, nor circle endlessly it.  God’s promises lead us away from it, Satan’s lies build dwellings in the thick of it.  It is not an easy path, for the enemy is relentless.  But God is mighty and powerful, and if He be for us, who can stand against us?
    If and when you find yourself in a dark place, near that pit of despair, look up this Psalm.  Make it your own.  Our hope is only in the Lord, in remembering what Jesus Christ has done for us, how He has made a difference in our life in the past, how He has redeemed us, touched us, known us and cared for us.  Focus on who God is and on His mighty works, His power, His holiness.  He never changes.  God bless.

The Nativity Collection

I got a jump on the holiday season by reading “The Nativity Collection”; six short stories surrounding the Christmas season by Robert J. Morgan, a pastor from Nashville, Tennessee.  This is the first of Pastor Morgan’s writings that I have read, and I was touched, moved and amused.

The stories range from a depression-era family who spend their Christmas Eve with an old woman who believes she has been re-united with her long-lost family, to a modern day honeymooning couple who discover the basis for true love before it is too late.  A surprise awaits you at the end of “Sugarplum and the Christmas Cradle”.  You will find yourself with a tear in your eye at times and laughing out loud at others.  Mr. Morgan is a talented and creative story-teller.

Mostly, what you will find here in this collection of short stories is wonderful additions to add to your family reading time.  If you haven’t already established such a thing, you now have a good reason to do so.  Start with “Ollie” this Christmas and start a new tradition with your family and you will find yourself looking for every opportunity to sit and read aloud with your children, grandchildren or anyone you can find who will sit still long enough to hear these heartwarming tales of the holidays.  Let me be the first to wish you and yours Merry Christmas!

Outlive Your Life

I was just given the awesome opportunity to review Max Lucado’s new book “Outlive Your Life”.  Excited to read anything written by the master wordsmith, I expected to rush through it hungrily.  This book, though, must be savored slowly.  It is thought provoking and potentially life changing.

Max Lucado takes us to the book of Acts and with his unique ability to put one right in the middle of the action, makes us charter members of the first church.  Then, with his amazing story-telling twists, we are catapulted into the present where we are presented with the stark reality that we are no different from those struggling New Testament Christians we have been reading about.  God is the same God today that He has always been - He still has the same power and still answers prayer in the same way.  So what has changed?  Why does the church today not look like the church in the book of Acts?

This book is a challenge to us as individuals to reexamine the world around us for opportunities to put into practice what we say we believe.  To see people in a different light than we ever have before.  We can actually begin to see traces of the different characters from the New Testament church in those around us; glimmers of hope, doors of opportunity where before we only saw hopelessness.

I encourage everyone to pick this book up and read it.  But beware:  you will be different when you put it down.

A Ticket on The Past Track

Okay, imagine with me that you are given a ticket into the past.  You can go back and be a witness to any event in biblical history that you desire.  Think on it for a minute.  Any event at all.  You can witness creation:  hear the voice of God saying ‘Let there be light.’ and be blinded by piercing light breaking up absolute darkness.  Watch over the course of six days as the heavens and the earth take form, and watch as the animals rise up out of nothing and Adam is formed from the dust of the earth.  Witness God breathe the breath of life, a living soul, into this lifeless body and form an eternal relationship with His own creation.  See Eve given to Adam as his soul-mate, his help-meet, bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh.  

Or maybe you would rather go further into the future.  Do you want to be with Moses and the children of Israel as they are facing the Red Sea?  Do you want to stand with them, feel their desperate fear as they see the dark waters before them, and hear the approaching army of Pharaoh behind them?  Can you see Moses raise his aged hands up in the air, staff in hand, watch the great tunnel form through the sea?  Towering waves on either side, dry land beneath your feet, you follow the masses of people as they cross to safety.  

But wait.  What about seeing Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego walking about inside the fiery furnace with the fourth figure?  Or seeing Daniel emerge from the lions’ den untouched by the hungry lions?  Maybe you would like to spend some time with David and his mighty men of valor.  Watch the young David, before he becomes king, slay the fearsome giant Goliath.  

Then there is the New Testament.  Oh, my, there are some things there I would like to witness.  Just to be on the hillside when the angels announced the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem!  As a mother I believe I could be content to just spend some time sitting with Mary, the mother of Jesus, watching the child Jesus grow and play.  Then He did grow, and He began to perform miracles!  Pick a miracle, any miracle!  To walk one day with Jesus and His disciples, what an honor that would be. To see a stormy sea calmed by just His voice. To watch a blind man receive sight!  To see eyes opened and first of all gaze into the face of the one who gave them that blessed gift.  To watch as one’s ears were opened for the first time to the sounds of life and hear the voice of our Savior saying, ‘Tell no one what has been done here today.’  How can you not but speak?  To be there as the lame stand, walk, run and leap!  Demons are demanded to vacate the bodies of helpless victims and the dead are given back to their loved ones again, alive and whole.

There!  That’s the one.  That’s the event I would go to see.  I would go with Jesus to the tomb of Lazarus.  Why to that one miracle, you ask?  There was something so very unique about that event, so special.  It was a turning point, I believe.  From that point on, things changed.  For the people, for Mary and Martha, certainly for Lazarus, for the disciples and also for Jesus.  For after this miracle, the desire of the Pharisees and chief priests to kill Jesus peaked, and they began to plot in earnest for his death.  

Let’s set the stage:  Lazarus, Mary and Martha are friends of Jesus’.  The Bible says that He loved them.  Later, we will find Him eating with them, presumably in their home.  Lazarus falls ill, seriously so.  Jesus is about 18 miles from them, so the sisters send for Him.  It takes the messenger about a day to reach Jesus.  Verse six of John chapter 11 tells us that Jesus lingers two days before He makes the decision to head to Bethany, where Lazarus is.  Again, a one day journey.  When He arrives He receives word that Lazarus has died.  Simple first grade addition tells us that four days has passed since the first day that help has been sent for.  

Now, a little bit of Jewish cultural history:  try to stay focused and not let your eyes glaze over.  I will try to be brief.  The Jews buried their dead quickly:  they normally buried them the day they died.  There were also some Jews who had a belief that the soul would sometimes ‘hover’ near the body for the first three days after death hoping to somehow get back in.  Possibly this is how they disregarded some of the other resurrections that Jesus performed?  But by Jesus delaying His arrival until Lazarus had been in the grave for four days already, well, that pretty much did away with that argument, didn’t it?  So that makes this a clear case for miracles.  Now let’s look at Mary and Martha.

When Jesus gets there, the two women are distraught.  Both of the women say pretty much the same thing to Jesus when they see Him.  In the 11th chapter of John you can find the account.  Verse 21 is Martha’s statement, and verse 32 is Mary’s.  “Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died.”  Clearly they believe Jesus could have and would have healed their brother.  Maybe even raised him from the dead if He had gotten  there earlier.  Martha’s faith is rattled but not gone.  She proclaims Him the Christ, the Son of God.  Neither sister has lost her faith in who Jesus is.  But don’t you wonder what they were thinking for those four days?

I do.  I wonder what everyone was thinking, and saying.  Jesus healed everyone else.  Other people were raised up.  Other’s prayers were answered.  Why not them?  Why not us?  Don’t we wonder?  Why do bad things happen to good people?  It’s not always simple.  A few blogs ago I wrote about John the Baptist.  He was in prison and sent his disciples to Jesus with doubts and questions.  Jesus sent word back to reassure him.  To let him know his faith was not in vain, his life’s work was not in vain and that he was indeed preaching the truth and following the true Messiah.  Good enough.  Was John sprung from prison?  Actually, no.  In fact he was beheaded.  He and Jesus celebrated a joyous reunion a short while later in Heaven, I’m sure.  But that’s not to say there weren't people here wondering why such a tragic thing had to happen to such a faithful servant.  We don’t always get to understand or get the clear ending we expect or want.  

This time, though, it happens that we do.  (although to be completely fair to Lazarus, I’m not sure if given a choice it’s the one he would have chosen!)  Jesus says to the disciples on the way to Bethany, “This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby.”  Jesus knows Lazarus has died.  But He also knows that He is going to show His disciples, the family of Lazarus, the people and the Pharisees and all who will be witness to this event, that He is truly “the resurrection and the life”, and that He has power and authority unlike anything they have ever witnessed before.  He knows what is quickly approaching: His own death.  Following His death will come His resurrection and then His ascension.  Things will change for them after that.  The only way in which they will be able to endure what is about to come is for them to come to know Jesus, to know more about Him than ever before.  They will have to experience this, not just hear it from Him.  And they are about to experience something amazing.

Jesus Christ, God in the flesh, walks up to the tomb where Lazarus has been for four days.  In what John describes as a ‘loud voice’ Jesus cries “Lazarus, come forth!”

Can you imagine what people are thinking?  They had moved the stone away.  They are peering into the opening, waiting to see what will happen.  Will Lazarus come walking out?  Do they want him to?  Yes?  No?  I don’t know?  My heart is pounding if it is beating at all.  I’m sure people are holding their breaths, and not just because they are afraid of the smell.  Then, we hear a shuffling.  Some people  have run in absolute terror, others are frozen in complete amazement.  No way!  Then, here he comes, wrapped up in the same grave clothes they had bound him in four days ago: head to foot.  Jesus says “Loose him, let him go.”  Maybe he is somewhat amused, because people, stunned, don’t move.  Then they do…..they are all over him.  Unwrapping him, uncovering his pink, healthy skin.  He is smiling, healthy, glowing and hugging his loved ones.  He and Jesus share secret smiles, for I’m sure they share many secrets now.  I’m envious.  

Many times we have to go to the darkest places before we can discover the best parts about our Lord.  For it is when we are in our greatest need that He shows Himself the most real to us.  It is when we have nothing to cry but, ‘Oh Lord, I need You,’ that He is the closest.  Recently, during a prayer time at our church, the dear man leading prayer was speaking to the congregation.  He was saying that Jesus was the answer to all of our needs.  He said, “What is your need today, church?  What do you need today?”  At that moment, in my heart and in my soul, I cried out, “Lord, I so desperately just need You to be here; a real person to hug me.”  I closed my eyes and bowed my head, so needy.  In that moment, I felt as if He stepped up close behind me, wrapped His arms around me and drew me in close to Him and held me and just loved me.  To some, it would be such a small thing.  To me, it was the biggest thing in the world because it was what I needed at that time.

Was it a resurrection?  Hardly.  But it was God showing me He is real.  Other times in my life He has shown up bigger, and He will show up bigger again.  But it was those darker times that has given me the confidence for the rest of the times that aren’t quite as dark.  Without those times, I wouldn’t know what I know now.  

So, yeah.  I’d go see Lazarus.

The Getting of Wisdom

I was bummed on Wednesday.  Well, the first half anyway.  The second half was great, but the first half was less than glorious.  My tennis partner and I lost our tennis match.  We are now 1-1 for the season.  The bad part is that last season, from the time that we partnered together, we only lost one match.  Okay, one was a retirement due to an injury, but we would have won that one too.  I’m confident.  Fairly sure.  Well, it’s within the realm of possibilities.  Nonetheless, we had a great season together.  (Yikes, I sound so competitive!  We always say just before we serve the first ball, ‘let’s have fun ladies.’  Well, I don’t know about anyone else, but I have found that winning is way, way more fun than losing.  Just saying. )

I left the court bewildered as to why we lost, and even asked our pro what happened.  In his unique and informative teaching style, he pointed to the score and said, “They scored more than you.”  Gee, thanks, Captain Obvious.  He then turned the question around to me and made me answer it.  I was forced to look back over the match and evaluate our mistakes, flaws and failures to capitalize on their flaws and weaknesses.  It’s always a humbling, yet educational exercise.  Interesting to note the same does not always hold true after a win.

Ironically, Tuesday morning I read a verse in Proverbs and wrote it in my journal. It was from the 15th chapter, verse 31.

      “The ear that heareth the reproof of life abideth among the wise.”

 I wasn’t too sure why it jumped out at me until Thursday morning when I began to really think about that phrase ‘reproof of life’.  

I’ve always had the knowledge that the lessons that have the most impact are the ones that are learned from mistakes.  Is that not true in your life as well?  Whether it be on the tennis court, in the kitchen or in life in general, my mistakes have taught me far more than my successes.  At the back side of a success I tend to think, “Well, look at me!”  Whereas as I stare dismally at my failures, I am more inclined to be thinking, ‘Okay, won’t try that again.”

 I have known for a very long time that the best and most effective lessons are indeed learned from one’s mistakes, but I adopted the philosophy when I was a young adult that if I must learn from mistakes, I would prefer them to be someone else's. Sure, and why not?  I took note when I could of others’ heartbreaking stories of their failures and how they now realized their gross errors.  Sadly, I even took note when they did not realize their errors.   Be it marriages, child-rearing, financial ruin or what ever else they tried to share, I listened.  Same lessons, less pain, fewer scars!  Read what the wise King Solomon says:

    Happy is the man that findeth wisdom and the man that getteth understanding:
     For the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold.  
    She is more precious than rubies:  and all the things she canst desire are not to be compared to her.
    Length of days is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and honor.
    Her ways are ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peace.

These are the rewards of a life that is full of wisdom.  And according to the verse I cited earlier, the ear that listens to the reproof of life dwells among wisdom, gets wisdom.  In other words, and by other words I guess I mean my words, when you learn from the mistakes of life, whether they be yours or others’, you will gain wisdom.  When you acquire wisdom, there are rewards; rewards that are more valuable than the riches of this world.  Long life with peace, now there’s a good start.

Have you noticed that the majority of wise people seem to be older?  My assumption is that it takes the reproofs of life to attain wisdom.  And let’s face it, most of us probably have to be reproved multiple times before we get it.  But what if we could be observant enough, attentive enough, teachable enough, to learn these lessons before we grow old?  I think it is worth trying.

He that getteth wisdom loveth his own soul:  he that keepeth understanding shall find good.  Proverbs 19:8

So, next Wednesday when our team goes out on the court to play another opponent we hopefully will take some of the lessons we learned last week and apply them.  We will use the loss as motivation to learn. The reproof of life, the 'L' behind my name, will motivate me to work harder, watch closer and learn from my mistakes last week.  My fear is that they may have had the same lesson!  Wish me luck!

Middle Age Musings

Something very momentous happened this year.  I hit 50.  I’m not sure why they call it ‘hitting 50’, because it implies you are able to move fast enough to strike something with impact.  Possibly it is more the image of running into something that doesn’t move, and sort of just knocks you back on your somewhat less than firm rear-end.  Whatever the case, it happened.  And I was forced into admitting something I’ve more or less been in denial of:  I’m middle-aged.  I know, I know.  All but a very slim percentage of you are saying, “No kidding!  You had trouble admitting that!”  That small percentage are saying, “Don’t say it out loud!!”  It’s just that the term is so, well, for lack of anything more scholarly, BLAH.  Middle-age.  It sounds bland, boring, mediocre, worn out. Not young and vibrant, but not worthy of the respect that being elderly gets you.  But enough about the word itself, how about the situation?  

I finally realized that I am indeed halfway there.  I was forced to admit that even if I lived to the incredible age of 100, I was halfway through my life.  Halfway to dead.  That means that I am now officially on the downward slope.  The backside.  And here’s the kicker:  there was no day when someone woke me and said, “Hey Kerri!  You may want to get up and enjoy this day.  For today is the best day of your life.  From here on out, everything gets worse.  It doesn’t get any better than this.  You will never look better, feel better, or be sharper mentally.  You are at your peak.  Go out there and make the most of it.”  Nope, I did not know I was living my peak day.  I was oblivious.  I missed it.  I did not capitalize upon it, I did not take extra pictures, I did not take advantage of it in any way at all.  Had I known, well truthfully, I probably would have been depressed thinking, “You mean this is as good as I will ever be?  Well, rats. I expected better.”  How old was I?  I have no earthly idea.  When did the decline begin?  Couldn‘t tell you.  But it did start.  I have been slowly falling apart for some time now.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I try to not live my age.  One day when I was playing tennis, the woman I was on the court with let a ball go by, as it was out of her reach.  I looked at her, and she said sheepishly, “I would have had that in my younger days.”  I said to her, “Hey, in 10 years, today will be one of our younger days!  Let’s keep going after those balls while we still can!”  And I do…I will keep doing all I can while I can.  Other people my age have way more health issues than I have, and I feel blessed.  I have some complaints, sure, but they could be a whole lot worse.  But there is no denying that time is not kind to our bodies, or our minds.  Mostly our bodies.  That is why in this country we women, in particular, spend multi-millions, if not billions, of dollars on products designed to slow-down the aging process, or at lease disguise the effects of it. Skin care and cosmetics for our faces take our time and money. We have medicine cabinets full of drugs, both prescription and over the counter, curatives from health food stores and libraries full of recommendations from the experts to alleviate the aches and pains that aging causes to our muscles, bones and joints.  But let’s face it:  it is a losing battle.  We are NOT getting any better.  And although I disdain all the botox, plastic surgery, lifts, tucks and constant readjusting of one’s features to try to beat the ravages of time, I am pleased to announce that at the age of 50, I am having some work done.  The most effective work possible.

Pick your jaw up, close your mouth and open your Bible.  My life verse is Philippians 1:6  “  Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.”

That’s what I get excited about.  That’s what makes me smile, what gives me true joy.  I am confident, I am convinced, I am positive, I am sure, that God began to work in me when He saved me.  It is a good work, a positive work, a work with His own hands, for His purpose, for His glory.  This work that He is doing, it will not stop, He will perfect it, He will continue it, He will constantly be improving upon it up until the moment that I am reunited with Jesus Christ.  So while my outer shell may deteriorate, the body may grow weaker and less desirable and usable, God is working on my inner being to make me more like His Son.  As God works in me, my spirit becomes more beautiful, stronger, more like He intended me to be.  He will never, ever give up on me, never, ever set me aside as a project He grew weary of, bored of, or tired of.  In His eyes, I am not hopeless or useless.  I am His workmanship.  Sure, I make the task difficult at times, but He is patient and loving, and He has my whole life to work His work in me.

So my knees pop and my hips hurt.  My eyes don’t see as well and my hair is graying.  Soon my hearing will be affected, and I hear from some that even our taste buds are affected eventually.  Our memories aren’t as sharp and our energy declines.  But God is doing a work in me that transcends and exceeds what is happening on the outside.  Someone said, and I wish it had been me, ‘We live life as if we were human beings having a spiritual experience.  Rather we are spiritual beings having a human experience.”  This human experience is short, the spiritual experience is for eternity.  When we realize this, then we can focus not on what is happening on the outside, but on what God is doing on the inside, preparing us for eternity with Him.

Words

Words.  How important they are.  We use them to express our thoughts, our emotions, our ideas.  We speak them, sing them, write them, sign them with our hands and have multitudes of languages and symbols for them.  We use lights, sounds and even dance motions to convey them.  We dedicate volumes of books, libraries, buildings to contain our collections of these words that we value so dearly.  We honor men and women who eloquently express themselves through written word, whether it be truth or fiction, poetry or music, newsworthy or entertainment. Wars have been fought, lives have been taken and given over the right to freely express and read these words. Yet we can be so reckless, so careless with our own.

In the 15th chapter of Matthew, the Pharisees and scribes came to Jesus seeking to entrap Him.  Not a new endeavor for them, nor an easy task either.  They asked Jesus why His disciples broke the tradition of the elders by not washing their hands before they ate.  (No, really, they did.)  He responded by asking them why they also transgressed the commandment of God with their traditions.  (No, really, He did.)  I really wish I could have been there to have watched some of these exchanges, having the knowledge that I have, knowing that these arrogant, self-righteous men were trying to out maneuver God.  They were trying to back the Creator of the Universe in a corner and trick Him into saying something stupid.  It would be like watching Albert Einstein debate an 8th grader.  A really dumb 8th grader.

Then Jesus goes further in depth.  You see, God clearly commanded, He explains in verse four, that one is to honor their mother and father, and if one curses them they were to die.  But the Pharisees had changed God’s commandment, amended it,  that if you make a gift to the temple, then you don’t have to die.  He then calls them hypoctrites, teaching commandments of men as the doctrine of God.  In verses 10-20, He talks with the multitude and with His disciples more about this issue.  Listen to what He says:

“And He called the multitude, and said unto them, Hear, and understand:  Not that which goeth into the mouth defileth a man; but that which cometh out of the mouth, this defileth a man.”
Jesus was more concerned about what was coming out of their mouths than about what was going into their mouths.  And why was that?  Read on:

“But those things which proceed out of the mouth come forth from the heart; and they defile the man.  For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies: These are the things which defile a man;…”
I have spent the better part of my Christian life in a small world.  In a small church, in a small town.  My husband was self-employed, was a lay-youth pastor and I was a stay at home mom who home-schooled our three children.  We had a good life, traveled and interacted with lots of other churches and met lots of other people in our ministry.  Things are different now.  We are in a much larger church in a much larger city.  We are exposed to many, many more people.  John is working part-time in a large ministry that employs a large number of people and is interacting therefore with a large number of people.  I personally have had my eyes opened.  Wide.  Shockingly so.  I’ve always known that not everyone is kind and gentle.  I’ve run into my fair share of gossips, back-biters and those who sow discord among the brethren.  But in a small ministry, the number would also be few.  In a large ministry, well, the odds increase.  I guess I just always assumed they were a rarity.  I guess I thought mature Christians sort of out-grew that behavior.  Turns out some of them just get better at it.  Or maybe it should be bitter.  It can only be from a bitter heart that so many hateful words, cutting remarks,  and vicious gossip can be spewed.

When we open up our mouths, what comes out?  Why, what is in our heart proceeds out.  Some would be quick to say no to that, especially if the things were not too complimentary to them.  I would challenge anyone to carry a voice activated recorder around with them for a day or two and then listen to it.  What do you sound like?  What does it sound like is in your heart?  Is it the things that are listed in the verses we just read above?  Evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies?  Ewww.  I don’t want that heart.

What would the antithesis to this be?  Merciful thoughts, kindness, love, purity, goodness, honesty, praise.  Sounds an awful lot like the fruit of the Spirit to me.  How would one acquire this sort of heart?  Only by immersing oneself in the Word of God.  By pouring into ourselves daily the very words of our Father can we hope to drive out the bitter residue that is the world.  When we are in the Word, when the Word in in us, it is witnessed and evident in our speech, in our words.  His Word is in our words.

I know that this can sound somewhat judgmental.  That really isn’t my intent.  But I think it may have been Jesus’ intent.  Because when we open up our mouths, our words certainly judge us.  What we say speaks loudly and clearly about what is in our hearts.  We do not need anyone else to judge us, for we are judging ourselves every time we open up our mouths.  This morning I highlighted a verse in Proverbs 12:18, strictly for myself.  I will close by sharing it with you here.

There is that speaketh like the piercing of a sword: but the tongue of the wise is health.

The Reason Why

I suppose this should have been my first blog; the reason why I would blog at all.  When I first began to hear of blogging, I was bewildered, then amused, then annoyed.  How totally egotistical.  Who would want to read someone’s online diary?  I mean, really, how many people do you know are living a life even remotely that interesting?  I would like to hear what my children and grandchildren were doing if they were far away and I would read of their daily happenings.  My siblings, and their families I would be interested to check in on, oh let’s say on a weekly basis.  Friends and co-workers would rate a weekly nod as well if we were close.  Distant relatives and friends from my past I might find warranted a glimpse if I were not able to find anything fascinating on HGTV  or the Food Network to watch.  But let’s be honest, unless you are a creepy type of voyeur who surfs the web for vicarious adventures, why would you read the blogs of complete strangers if all they did was recount their daily activities?  It’s like long-winded twittering.  If you’ve read my other blogs, I’m sure you might be wondering who high-jacked my lap-top, and with good reason.  Today is a different take for me.  Today, I am in a different state of mind.  Today I am chatting more from the head, and less from the heart.  Scary, because there is much less in my head than in my heart, I must confess!

But even though I had a less than favorable opinion of the blog world, excepting those who truly lived lives worth blogging about (missionaries for example) I found myself faced with somewhat of a dilemma.  I needed to start a blog.  To achieve a purpose separate from simply blogging, it became necessary.  In fact, a requirement.  So, I did it.  And actually found it wasn’t as bad as I thought.  It was easier than I had expected and I threw myself at it without too much preparation.  I decided not to investigate deeply what else was out there, for fear it would affect how I would write.  I made the choice to just be me.  To put out there what God laid on my heart.  After I had posted a couple of items, I ventured outside of my little blog box to find that it was pretty much what I had thought before.  Isn’t going to change what I will do with mine, though.  For like everything else, all that I do, all that I am belongs to Him.  My voice is His, my words are His.  I desire to be totally yielded to Him and want to use even this little space, this small corner for His glory.  I have absolutely no idea who, if anyone, reads.  It matters not, and following is why.

I have come to the place where I have fully accepted that I am unique and different.  For reasons I do not fully understand, but accept, God created me, designed me, on purpose, with purpose.  He had full knowledge and complete understanding of my entire life when He fashioned me, in my mother’s womb.  He gave me gifts, talents, skills and yes, even flaws and weaknesses that made me me.  At the moment of salvation, when the Holy Spirit entered into me, I received some unique gifts of the Spirit for the purpose of edifying the body of Christ.  He knew the course of my life, the choices I would make and the place that I would be right now.  All of these things have come together and I know that God wants me to write.  I love to write, I love to speak, I love to teach.  I’ve always wanted to.  He gave me a gift and a love for these things.  How He will use them is His choice.  How I surrender is mine.  I am surrendered, I am willing.

So, I will write.  I will be willing, I will be surrendered.  And when He touches me and asks me to speak, to teach someone, I will.  He opened the door for me for this tiny platform, so I will use it.  And like Jesus told His disciples, I feel Him telling me as well, “…take no thought beforehand what ye shall speak, neither do ye premeditate: but whatsoever shall be given you in that hour, that speak ye: for it is not ye that speak, but the Holy Ghost.” Mark 13:11 Granted, He was speaking of some more extreme situations, but it is the same Holy Spirit, with the same power. 

So while many blogs are about the glories of preparing for and finishing a triathlon, or sharing the trials and triumphs of  baby’s first year, mine will simply be sharing with readers things I am learning as I stumble through this life holding tightly to my Saviour’s hand.

Doubts and Questions

Doubts, questions.  We all have them, at one time or another.  When you have them, though, how do you respond to them?  Do you hide them, deny that they are there?  Do you feel guilty about them or believe that you are alone?  I know that this is something that I’ve had difficulties talking about in my past with people for the simple reason that it seems to be something that would shock or possibly cause people to lose respect for me.  As a new believer, it’s quite all right to have questions, big questions.  Ask away, by all means, we welcome your questions.  Doubts?  Bring them, we expect them.  But a seasoned Christian better not have any deep questions, or doubts, or reasons to ponder anything they’ve ever believed or been taught.  Right?

Maybe, maybe not.  If you really think that, you will have some major issues with the 11th chapter of Matthew, and a man who goes by the title of John the Baptist.  He sent some of his disciples to Jesus with a question, two-fold, actually.  It was pretty straight to the point, “Art thou he that should come, or do we look for another?”  Hello?  What?  John the Baptist questioning whether Jesus was the Christ?  This was the man who had spent his entire adult life preaching the coming of the Messiah, and when he saw Him approaching said, “Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sins of the world.”  But here he is, questioning whether he had preached the wrong message.  Had he pointed to the wrong man?  What could have possibly brought such deep doubts to a man who had given his entire life, left home and family, risked everything to a sole purpose such as this?  Well, let’s consider where he was.  John had been thrown into prison, and not a prison of 21st century standards, for speaking truth.  He was hated by those in authority already for preaching the gospel, but to speak out against the blatant sins of Herod he was imprisoned and was in danger of death.  The leaders of his people would not come to his aid.  Word of the miracles that Jesus was performing filtered in to him through his disciples, yet John sits in a cell alone and confused, a man of the wilderness, confined to a dark dank cell.

How often have we wondered why?  Why do we see others’ prayers answered, and we wait and wait and God seems to not even acknowledge us?  We wonder if He even knows we are there.  We wonder if we are worthy of His attention.  Is it something we’ve done?  Is it something we haven’t done?  What is the problem?  Why don’t things seem to change?  So we doubt, we question, just like John.   “Are You who You say You are?”  And we wait for an answer.  Will He answer?

In my Bible I highlighted two simple words in verse four of chapter 11. They say ’Jesus answered…’  I guess sometimes that’s just what I need to know.  That He did, that He does, and that He will.  How He answered John was like this, “Go and shew John again those things which ye do hear and see: The blind receive their sight, and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear; the dead are raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached to them.”  Basically Jesus just was reminding John of Who He was, He was referring to some prophecies that were being fulfilled that were quite familiar to the imprisoned man.  It was enough to salve any doubts that John may have had, enough to reassure him.  It is worthy to note that John was not miraculously sprung from his cell, but actually was beheaded not long after.  Discouraging to some, maybe, but God deemed it worthy for us to know what transpired during this time of John’s life.  What exactly was it that we need to know?  I take away this:

There are going to be times in my life when I am in such dire circumstances that I am going to have some serious questions, even doubts.  Questions and doubts about myself, my role, my importance.  I will wonder if I matter to God, if He seriously cares about me, if He hears me, if what I believe that I know about Him is right and true.  If any of ‘this’ is for real.  From the simplest question of ‘Are You there, God?’, to the complex, ‘Why am I here, God?’, I will have questions.  And even if I don’t get absolute complete answers, He will acknowledge me, and answer me with at least this much, the same way He answered John.  “I am Who I have always said I am.  Look back and remember what I’ve done, I never change.”

As I write this, a young couple I know and care about have been waiting for the results of medical tests on their one year old baby boy.  After going through and triumphing over cancer with their three-year old daughter, this trial is almost more than they can bear.  To face the possibility of cystic fibrosis is overwhelming this family and we are praying for God to spare them this burden. The question of Why was foremost in minds of those who were praying.  On a more human level, it was more like, ’Are you kidding me, God?’  I could tell you the results right here.  Negative? Praise God!  He is merciful and gracious.  Prayers were answered. Or :  Positive? God’s grace will be lived out in their lives as we watch Him work in their hearts to show His power and strength in ways they’ve never yet experienced. I know the answer, but regardless of the outcome, His answer is ultimately the same: I am Who I am.  And for every negative medical test result, someone else has a positive result.  I, for one, rejoice that I know One who remains faithful and ever present despite our response to our circumstances.

I guess what I take away from John’s time of questioning and doubting is this:  even the best of us will wonder.  It helps that after Jesus sends John’s disciples back to him with a message, that He says of John, “Verily I say unto you, Among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater that John the Baptist “  Pretty high praise for one who had just questioned whether he had just wasted his entire life proclaiming the wrong man as Messiah!  Times of great trial and rough circumstances will cause us to question, but we have a Lord who is full of mercy, is longsuffering and  is compassionate towards us, who understands what it is like to be tried and tired.  He knows what it is to be full of heartache and sorrow, to be rejected and scorned, to be falsely accused, to be hated; he feels our pain.  And He loves us.  And all He says is to remember again the things that we have seen and heard.

My New Bible

My New Bible

     I don't know about you, but I'm not one to go about buying new Bibles frequently.  There are some people who have several, and love the idea of buying a new one every time they get the opportunity.  Me, I find one I like and keep it until the pages are literally falling out.  Which is exactly what was happening to mine.  In fact, over the course of the last 35 years or so, I've owned exactly three.  In my mind, I've pictured each one going to each one of my children when I die. (Morose, I know.)  Recently, I reached the conclusion that I had to get a new Bible.  One reason was the 31st chapter of Proverbs kept slipping out, which in my opinion if something was going to fall out, well, so be it.  The next was the sunshine here in Florida must have caused the ink on the pages to shrink because in the last six years it has gotten even harder for me to see those itty bitty letters. But I really hated to give it up.  

     My Bible is so personal to me.  It is marked, it is worn, it is comfortable, familiar.    It is to me like a favorite pair of jeans is to some, or a particularly worn pair of slippers, or robe, or nasty old recliner.  You get the picture, don't you?  It is mine, and although it seems like it really should be replaced, I just don't want to let it go.  It was full of memories; marked by tears, moments of joy and illumination from the Holy Spirit.  Incredibly intimate moments.  You don't just replace that with some upstart fresh book hot off the press.  But I reluctantly added 'New Bible' to my Christmas list last year, and gave my family some directives of what I was hoping for.  

     Christmas morning came and I received not one, but two new Bibles!  One from each of my sons.  One was a very in depth study Bible, the other a beautiful wide margin just right for my personal reading.  How incredible was that?  One for studying and writing, the other for my personal devotions.  

     So there I was, January 1, 2010, with my new Bible; untouched, unmarked, unloved, somewhat impersonal feeling.  I decided to do something I had not done in several years.  In order to make this Bible mine, to put my own personal mark, feel upon it, I would read it cover to cover.  Front to back, start to finish.  I've got to be honest with you and say that the days that I spent in Leviticus and Numbers were rough.  Deuteronomy got sticky as well!  But what helped is that Psalms and Proverbs are daily reading, no matter where I am.  I believe that you need praise and wisdom every day, year round!  I spent all those years in the wilderness with Moses and his crew, struggled with David and all the kings, watched God take Israel in and out of captivity.  I watched, in utter amazement as always, as the children of God turned away from Him again and again as He extended His hand of mercy over and over.  I read through the prophets, both major and minor, looking for glimpses of what I knew was coming.  

     Reading through the Word of God in this way is difficult, yet very enlightening.  We, as New Testament Christians, have the benefit of seeing clearly through the eyes of fulfilled prophecy what the Old Testament saints were only able to envision and hope for.  I found myself wanting to rush through, skip passages, even whole chapters, wanting to jump into the New Testament; I missed being with Jesus.  I wanted to get back to reading the scriptures where grace abounded, forgiveness flowed, mercy is free. But I had to wait, had to get through Malachi.  Then I paused.  There is a blank page there you know. 

     For me it is a blank page, for Israel it was so much more; that blank page was 400 years of silence.  400 years.  Silence.  I cannot imagine going a day without hearing from the Lord.  If God said to me, "Kerri, I'm going away for a day.  I'll be back, but tomorrow, you are on your own.  I'll be back day after tomorrow.  You'll be fine."   Nope, no way.  Not going to happen.  It You are going somewhere, I'm going with You, God.  A day?  How about 400 YEARS? 

     But then, those 400 years were up.  The blank page was turned.  And Jesus showed up.  Wow.  Everything changed.  When I finally began to read Matthew, I felt like I was drinking ice cold water after being in a desert for three days.  I soaked in His words at the sermon on the mount.  What a difference from the prophets.  No wonder the people were amazed and said, "Never a man spake like this man." 

     I am back in the New Testament now, and am looking forward to finishing up my new Bible before the year is out.  It will be my Bible.  It has already been marked by tears, it has been marked by my pen as well.  God has comforted me in sorrow through it, He has encouraged me through it, He has rebuked me and corrected me also.  I have found great moments of rejoicing in it, I have praised Him, I have fallen more deeply in love with Him, and have been reminded again and again of how much He loves me and cares for me.

      In the front of this Bible I wrote the date of the passing of my Daddy, but also the birth of my second granddaughter and will add the date of the birth of my second grandson.  Some day, I know, this Bible too will have to be replaced by yet another.  The reason for this is because no matter how often I read it, my need for its words never lessens, only deepens.  The more often I reach for it, the more  I want it, the more I know of it, I more I desire it. Therefore, as long as I breathe, I will continue to need a new Bible.

 

Fighting the Giant

                                      Fighting the Giant

    How many times have we heard the story told of David and Goliath?  How many ways have we heard it told?  Dramatically, with flannel-graph, through puppets, stoically by a pastor with a reverent point; so many ways but always with the same satisfying end.  David standing over the dead body of the evil giant, good triumphant over bad as well it should be, right?  It is a wonderful story, ah, but not just a story.  That we should always keep in mind.  It is an historic event, recorded for us in the pages of God’s Word.  When we fail to remember that, when we see it as a child’s tale, we diminish the significance of it in our own lives.  Let us recap it once again, just to refresh our memories.  Certain points are crucial to my intent.
    Saul and the men of Israel were being held in a valley by the Philistines, and specifically by their champion, a giant by the name of Goliath.  Each morning and evening this giant of a man would come out and taunt the Israelites with insults.  Assaulting them with words of scorn, attacking their ears and egos with personal insults he beat them into quivering puddles of fear.  This great army that had seen so many victories in the past were stymied in a valley, rendered completely ineffective by nothing more than words.  From the mouth of a man well over nine feet tall, to be sure, but words nonetheless.  The small army of Israel had gone up against armies multiplied over and again bigger than themselves in their history, and been victorious.  But obviously had forgotten.  But David had not forgotten.  He showed up on the scene, a lad, a youth, with the nerve not only to chastise his brothers and his king’s army, but also to challenge the giant. 
    Standing up before this giant he lays the battle at God’s feet.  Giving God the glory for his past victories of killing a lion and a bear with his bare hands, he once again relies on the strength of God, not his own.  I Samuel 17:47:         “ …for the battle is the Lord’s..”
    I, too, have been held captive in a valley, listening to the echoes of my own giant’s voice hurling the accusations, insults and taunts at me.  He is standing over my bed when I awake in the morning, he follows me throughout my day, and stands over me as I fall asleep.  He even has the nerve to disturb my sleep at times.  Relentless in his attacks, his tenacity is unbelievable.  He knows my weaknesses and deepest fears and he capitalizes upon them. My life is affected deeply, relationships damaged and I feel spiritually ineffective.  It’s as though I am but a youth, and he the champion with years of experience.  And is that not the truth of it? 
    The reality of this situation is that this giant did not start out as a giant, but as  a much smaller ‘situation’.  I, sadly, allowed it to grow into what it has become.  I fed it with my fears and insecurities and worst of all my lack of faith.  By listening to the lies of the enemy, I shut out the truth.  You really can only hear one voice at a time, and I was focused on the wrong one.  The enemy, Satan, has this uncanny ability to disguise his voice to sound like so many others; even voices I know and love.  Those voices are the voices that hurt the worst, the ones I chose to listen to instead of the voice of my Father.   The doubts and fears that already were inside of me fertilized and grew my giant into something I no longer had the strength to fight.  So, down into the valley I went, and there I stayed.
    I began to notice everything looked different from down there.  My relationships, my activities, even my relationship with Christ.  My neck began to ache from constantly looking up, trying to see a way out, so I just stared at the ground.  That’s no way out, is it?  The only way out is to defeat that giant who stood there, never quiet, relentless.  I was no match for him.   Hopelessness began to creep in. 
    But then I remembered David.  “The battle is the Lord’s.”  So, one morning I gave it up.  The fight, that is.  I released it to God, and just told Him, “ Lord, I cannot do this.  I admit that there is absolutely nothing I can do to fix this.  I cannot win, no matter how hard I try.  Only You are capable of winning this, of fixing this.  You are God, You are at work here, there and everywhere.  I give you complete control.  I will no longer listen to the voice of the liar, I will only listen to You.  I chose to listen to You and You alone.”  The relief was amazing.  Did the situation resolve itself miraculously, immediately?  Unfortunately no.  But I was absolved of the responsibility, for I had released it to God.  And whenever I heard the voice of the giant, I noticed it was smaller and quieter, and when I rebuked him, he got smaller and quieter.  He still tries, and I still rebuke.  He is still tenacious.
    What is your giant?  What have you allowed to become that giant in your life that is there when you awake, plagues you throughout the day, and disturbs your sleep at night?  It is affecting your relationships with your loved ones, your job, your leisure, your church or ministry life, even your walk with God.  Decide right now that you are going to give God the control of it, power over it and release it to Him.  And when that giant shows up again to bug you, remind him that God is in control and he needs to go see Him with any issues he has.  Go to God’s Word and remind yourself of who you are in Christ.  Drive out the lies with the truth. 
    God Bless.