The Hour Has Come

For weeks now, since John 2:4 I've been reading about how Jesus' time had not yet come. His time had not yet come in John 7:6, 7:8, 7:30 or 8:20.

But, in John 12:23, he said, "Now the time has come for the Son of Man to enter into his glory." And again in John 17:1, "Father, the hour has come. Glorify your son so he can give glory back to you."

The hour has come... the moment Jesus has been preparing for since John 2. It has now come. It is here. But it looks very different than I would expect. And it looked very different than the disciples, ever his mother Mary, expected.

He was not glorified in changing water to wine.
He was not glorified by his amazing wisdom and supernatural teaching.
He was not glorified by walking on water or calming storms.
He was not glorified by casting out demons or raising the dead.
He was not glorified by healing the sick, blind, deaf or lame.

He was glorified in humility--riding on the back of a donkey.
He as glorified in his submission to his Father's will.
He was glorified in suffering and humiliation.
He was glorified in death.

This is not how I picture glorification! I picture glorification in miracles. I picture glorification in healings. I picture glorification in the RESURRECTION...

But how can you have resurrection without first experiencing DEATH? And not just physical death, but also spiritual death. What a savior we have who submitted to this glorification process that looks so opposite from what we would think. He did it for us.

Not My Story

I am the media arts coordinator for my church. It is my job to create, organize and prepare graphic images and videos for announcements, sermons and special events.

A few years ago, I was preparing a video of an interview of a young woman and her parents. The young woman had narrowly survived a horrific car accident. She had sustained a severe head injury and it had taken weeks before they even knew if she would survive.

As the video played, the parents talked about the long hours in the waiting room. They told about how friends and family had organized prayer vigils and the miracles that came as a result.

Completely alone in the dark sanctuary, I watched the beginning of that video. After a short time I had to stop it. I couldn't watch any more. I felt bitterness and jealousy rise up in me. I heard my own voice echo through the large, empty hall, "Why didn't I get that? I didn't even get a chance to pray for my daughter's healing!" My daughter had died instantly when the car in which she was a passenger turned in front of an oncoming vehicle. She was gone before I even knew the accident happened.

The minute I heard my words echo through the sanctuary, I heard another voice--one filled with love and compassion for me--coming from deep in my heart. It instantly squelched the resentment that wanted to take hold of me. He said, "That's not what I had for you." In other words, that's not your story. You are living your story and they are living theirs.

I believe in healing. I've seen God do it. And I've seen Him "not do it." We each have a story to live out. I can't compare my life to yours and question God on the differences. I am living my story and you are living yours. They are probably very different stories, but their purposes are the same: that we may come to know and experience, on a much deeper level, the love and compassion of the One who created each one of us. And that is my unswerving hope.

a + b ≠ c

I used to think that a + b = c. I do what pleases God: pray, read my Bible, go to church, give, serve, watch Christian TV, and basically live a good, moral life. (That’s a + b.) As I did all that, I would get c: God’s blessing and prosperity, a perfect, clean-cut family that was the picture of a godly family (the picture in my mind anyway.) C to me was basically a life with no difficulties… smooth sailing. Nobody would die prematurely; nobody would experience pain and hopelessness. We would live and raise our children, become grandparents, retire with a giant RV and become snow birds. Life would go according to my plan because I would make good choices, right?

Not right. God had other plans for me—and for most of us, I think. God wants so much more for us than an easy, carefree life. He is so much bigger than a mathematical equation. We try to put God in a box… into a little equation, and He breaks all our rules!

I heard a phrase a few weeks ago that blew me away, “Jesus did not come to make bad men good. He came to make dead men alive.” Does that blow you away like it did me? I’ve read it several times since in a book by Tullian Tchividjian (grandson of Billy Graham) called Jesus + Nothing = Everything. Now that is a mathematical equation God can use!

 

We have a problem, and our problem is sin. I work very hard to “fix” my problem of sin by trying harder and beating myself up when I fail. Oh, and I do the same to those around me! I demand good behavior from them and when they fail, oh boy, do I let them have it—at least in my thoughts.

 

But our sin is not the root of the problem. It is a symptom of our deadness. And there is absolutely nothing I can do to “fix” my problem of deadness! Only Jesus can make me alive. And he reveals himself to me in the toughest, most difficult times. At the times when I am empty and have absolutely nothing to give God--no goodness, no performance, nothing--I still have everything because I have Jesus.

 

So I have a new equation. Since a + b ≠ c, every day I will remind myself that Jesus + nothing = everything! The solution to my problem has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with Jesus! And that is my Unswerving Hope!

Life is Not Fair!

It's January--time for my annual re-committment to health. I do this every year, but this year, I have a little more motivation. I realized this past weekend that if my husband and I don't live to be at least 76 years old, our little girl could lose both her parents before she's 30. I don't want to do that to her!

Neither of my parents came close to 76. My mother died at just 39, and my dad at 63. I was 19 when I lost my mom, and I was pretty oblivious to grief. By the time my dad died, I was 39. By then I had learned a little about taking time to grieve. But even at 39, I felt like an orphan. Even though my husband and I had been on our own for over 20 years, had lived in several states and overseas, and we had children of our own who were teenagers, it was a scary feeling to realize that I had no parents. My dad, my rock, the one I knew I could always run to was no longer here. I knew it was time for me to grow up.

My little girl will only be 30 when I'm 76. I don't want her to feel like I did when my dad died when she's that young. There are many things that are unfair about our situation, but right now, this is the one that bothers me the most. How can I prepare her for that? How can I prepare her for life without me?

I've got to pray. I've got to trust God to bring people into her life who will be there for her. I've got to know that He will be there for her. Just as he has been there for me, He will be there for her. He has been My Unswerving Hope, and I must find a way to share that with her. God, I'm counting on you to reveal yourself to my little one. As you have been my Hope, be hers as well. I trust you that, no matter what unfairness life hands this little girl, you will be there for her.

Struggling to believe in and trust My Unswerving Hope for 2010 and beyond!

When Faith in God Isn't Faith At All

The Hope Experience Day 11

I can relate to Katuk's resignation. I struggle with that resignation and cynicism often. For a moment, it looks like faith, but it's not. It's giving up. That's why I love this devotional. It points me back to true faith in our God of love and power. Yes, bad things happen to good people and our loved ones die and struggle with life-threatening addictions and lifestyles. And no we don't control over much of what happens in this world. But does that mean we just give up and say, "What will be will be"?

NO! We continue to struggle and persevere, wrestle with and trust this God of ours who sees a much bigger picture than we can. We know that He holds all things in His hands, that we have come from Him and, best of all, that we are going to Him. (John 13:3) That is my unswerving hope!

Redemption

I was just reading Paula's blog, His Ways Are Not Our Ways,  and was reminded of a similar story of redemption in my "Prayer Garden." About a year ago, we had a wind storm go through and it broke our little Prairie Fire Crab Apple tree right off at the base of the trunk.

Now, I like all my trees, especially the flowering ones like the Prairie Fire, but this was not just another pretty tree. This tree was given to us five years ago in memory of our 15-year-old daughter. When it broke off, it felt like another kick in the gut. My husband had built a fire to burn some other brush and limbs that had fallen in the wind storm. There's not much you can do with a tree that has broken off at the base, so we threw it on the fire. We both sobbed as the little tree burned. Even after four years, our grief still seemed fresh. I was mad at God. He is the God of the universe who calms the storms and raises dead people to life, could he not have allowed this one little tree to withstand that wind storm? I told him that I felt like he was so mean. We lost our daughter and one of the most special comforts we had was that tree. I had built my whole prayer garden around it. Now there wasn't even a stump!

As you can guess, this spring, several shoots grew up where our little tree once stood. All summer, I've watched it and pulled the weeds around it until I could see one strong shoot rising above the rest. Then I cut the others and continued cultivating the soil around it. Now, as Fall is approaching, that one shoot has again become a little tree! Our little Prairie Fire is not dead! It is very much alive! What a testimony that our God is not mean. It sure seems like it sometimes, but I was mistaken when I accused him of that. He is also very much alive and very much in charge. We just can't always see the work that is going on under ground out of sight. He knows what He's doing even when we don't.

So, God, again, I will trust You. Even when I can't see the big picture. Even when I can't see You working, I will believe and trust that your are doing a good thing. Thank You for showing me your redeeming power and thank you for redeeming my little Prairie Fire!

Couldn't There Be Another Way?

God, I know your Word says that if we want to share in your glory, we must also share in your suffering. But couldn't there be another way?

Here is what I read this morning in Joanna Weaver's book, Having a Mary Spirit:

"On that dark Sunday morning two thousand years ago, as Mary Magdalene made her way to the tomb, she never expected to go away running, even dancing with joy. But that is exactly what happened. And that is the underlying truth that makes all our transformations possible--the glorious reality that death (especially death to ourselves!) will always be swallowed up by victory. And the sorrow which once threatened to undo us will be the very thing that makes us proclaim God's glory.

"...Don't miss your moment. Don't miss what God is wanting to do in your life. Right here. Right now. Right in the midst of your frustration, your pain, your everyday realities. 'Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy, to God our savior, who alone is wise, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and forever. Amen.' Jude 24 and 25 (NKJV)'"

God, I know this is true and I know it all too well, but couldn't there be another way for us to be transformed? I know how death can be swallowed up by victory, but I also know how hard that is to grasp when you are eyeball to eyeball with death, or some things that can feel even worse than death.

Father, my friend and her husband have been sitting in a hospital for over a week now, unable to do anything but wait while their only daughter fights for her life. They say it will be months before she is "out of the woods." In fact, life may never be the same for them. My father, couldn't there be another way for transformation to occur in this family? They are a wonderful God-fearing, God-serving family! Is this really necessary? My heart so wishes there were another way, but my head knows the answer to that question. I know you didn't cause the accident, but I do know you could have prevented it. Since you didn't I know you have a purpose in it. And so I pray, Lord, that their lives will never be the same... That all three of them will come through this knowing You like they have never known You before... That they will experience that special measure of grace and nearness that You grant to those who must endure unspeakable pain and suffering... That they will sense the sweetness of Your presence even when they are filled with fear, facing an uncertain future, and yes, even when the anger and depression seem to overwhelm them. Even though this young girl is in a coma and cannot communicate with her parents, I thank you that she can communicate with You and that You are as much or more present with her than with anyone else. I thank you that Your ministering angels are posted at the head of her bed, watching over her, guarding her and protecting her.

And once again, I am drawn to the verses You spoke so strongly to my heart at a time when my sorrow threatened to undo me: "We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us! But for right now, until that completelness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love." 1 Corinthians 13:12 and 13 (MSG)

The Promise of Life

This morning, as I read in my Chronological Bible, I came across a verse Deuteronomy 30. "The Lord your God will circumcise your hearts and the hearts of your descendants, so that you may love him with all your heart and all your soul and live"

I underlined that because I am trusting God to circumcise our hearts - to purify us - to cut away all the excess baggage and junk that gets in the way of us truly loving Him and living. Not only in me, but also in my descendants--my son and my granddaughter. But these two are not my only descendants. I have another one, my daughter, who didn't live. She died. Does that mean this promise wasn't fulfilled? Oh, no. In fact, I believe that my daughter is the only one of us who is truly experiencing life right now. We may have physical life, but she is experiencing spiritual life in the presence of Jesus! That's something that we have not yet seen. I thought about all that for a moment then moved on to Shane Stanford's book, "When God Disappears."

I finished the chapter on Lazarus being raised from the dead. Stanford first talks about the promise of Jesus in John 16:33. Here Jesus promises that in this world we will have trouble. What kind of promise is that?! Well, maybe it's not a promise, but as Stanford says, it's an honest statement. It's a fact. The promise comes next, "But take heart, for I have overcome the world." There's no promise to make our problems go away or that life will be easy. Just that we can take heart because Jesus has overcome the world.

Then Stanford starts in on a message that, given my scripture reading this morning, gets my attention. He says that God, "has made a way for us to 'take heart' and begin to truly live." Apparently, God is trying to get a message across to me today about life--true life.

I love how Stanford finishes this chapter. It's so good, I don't want to paraphrase...

"God loved us and decided that we were worth dying for. God, in Jesus, came into the muck to become like us, not only to rectify the cosmic gulf between Him and us, but to restore the brokenness in and between people. In doing so, God called us out of tombs in which we sealed ourselves, unwrapped us from our doubt and sin and misery and set us free.

"But, friend, it is still up to us to come forth and be willing to be alive again. We have to stop living like those walking around dead and start walking like a dead person who has been raised from the tomb."

Wow, that's how I want to live! Not held down by junk like self protection, self preservation and self absorption. I don't want to be held back by sin and doubt and misery. I want to remember every day that I am a dead person who has been raised from the tomb! I want to look forward to experiencing life some day in the presence of Jesus. That eternal life that my daughter has already entered. But I don't want to waste the days that I have here on earth. My job is not complete here and as long as I have breath, it will not be complete. So, Lord, let me remember that I am not just here to exist, I am not just here to survive, I am here to live, really live! And to share that life with everyone who comes across my path.

As I read the end of Stanford's chapter, I wanted to note the Deuteronomy 30 passage, but the verses are not all noted in my Chronological Bible. I looked it up in my regular Bible so I could get the correct verse. Apparently this is not the first time God has spoken to me about this subject. In my regular Bible, the exact same verse was already underlined.

The Joy and Pain of Motherhood

Motherhood. I became a mother for the first time 24 years ago today. I don't know of any one thing in life that could have such potential both for immense joy and devastating pain. When we become mothers, we open ourselves up to the most wondrous joy possible in this life. Giving birth and seeing that miracle of new life occur right before our eyes is amazing. There is nothing like it. Watching our children grow and learn and discover is a truly wonderful experience.

But when we become mothers, we also open ourselves up to the potential for the most heart crushing pain I've ever imagined. Nothing hurts more than seeing your child hurt--helplessly standing by as they struggle to navigate life's twists and turns. Nothing hurts more--except maybe seeing them die.

Today I'm going to the funeral of a 24-year-old boy who could not bear life's twists and turns any longer. His mother and father will stand bravely greeting an almost endless line of well-wishers. Then they will go home to figure out this "new normal" that will be their daily lives. The well-wishers will go back to their lives and routines as usual, but this family's lives will never be the same.

This mother's life will never be the same. She will be asking God all the most difficult questions. Not just "Why," but also, "Why couldn't You have intervened?" "How could this possibly be Your will?" "How could anything positive ever come from such a tragedy?" "Where did I do wrong?" And most of all, "Are you really in control? Do You really care?"

And God will answer. There is no answer that will completely heal this mother's pain. She will have to do the hard work of feeling every excruciating ounce of the pain while allowing God to do major surgery on her heart. Only then will she be able to experience the healing that God's holy scalpel can bring. It is not a quick-fix, pain-free process. But it is a healing process. She will never "get over" her grief, but she will come out a changed person if she allows God to do His refining work.

Father, I pray for this family that is experiencing the deepest pain I have ever known. Thank You for Your faithfulness to comfort them. Thank You for Your people who will be there to comfort them--to help them remember their son--and to assure them that he will never be forgotten--that his life was not in vain--that You will bring something beautiful from this terrible tragedy. Amen.