Courage

 

August 31, 2020

Psalm 31:24 reads, “Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart.”  Courage precedes strength. God wastes nothing, and will not give strength where there is no courage to act, in other words, where it isn’t needed. Courage is not a feeling; it is a commitment to act in the face of danger, to face it squarely no matter the consequences. Too often, we want to feel courageous while doing and sacrificing nothing. We are given only necessary strength.

Media will often hold up self-serving and narcissistic behavior as courageous, but the examples noted often have given up nothing, have not put themselves in harm’s way, and only take a stand once they’ve tested the way the cultural wind is blowing. It is a cowardly courage.

Real courage swims upstream, bucking the tide and disdaining the words and reactions of others. Such courage to act ones only from waiting on God (Isaiah 40:31). In God’s presence we learn what we are to do, and once we’ve decided to do it, we find the wait itself has strengthened us. We are weak because we get up from our knees too soon and have therefore failed to choose well our actions. The Good News is: God promises courage to anyone bold enough to humbly come into his presence and stay awhile.

Warsaw, 1943

 August 30, 2020

This afternoon I finished reading “Rescued from the Ashes: The Diary of Leokadia Schmidt. She was a young Jewish wife and mother caught in the Warsaw ghetto in 1942 when the Nazis barricaded it and began systematically rounding up and transporting Jews to the gas chambers. Miraculously, she, her husband, and their young child all survived the horrors of those years, often by having chosen one place to hide over another. The deprivation they endured and the constant fear with which they lived is unimaginable to us today, as is the wanton and deliberate slaughter of men, women, and children carried out by the Nazis. 

“Never Again” was the cry of the Jewish people who managed to survive the Holocaust, and led to the formation of the Jewish state in 1948. When Auschwitz was finally liberated, General Eisenhower insisted that films and photos be taken of the wretched conditions, the piles of bodies, the crematoriums, the storerooms filled with shoes, hair, eyeglasses, and such. He was strangely prescient when he said that “someday, some bastard will say this never happened,” and he wanted the world to never forget the depths of depravity carried on within the camps. 

Today there are millions who are willingly ignorant of the atrocities of Nazi Germany, who deny the Holocaust; there are plenty more who turn a blind eye to similar ethnic purges that happened in Soviet Russia under Stalin, and are happening in China today as ethnic Uighurs and Christians are persecuted. North Korea is particularly brutal in its treatment of its own people. 

We always think, “This can never happen here,” but such was the thinking of most Europeans in the 1920s and 30s. They were a cultured, sophisticated, multicultural society, much as we are today. Sadly and dangerously, we are seeing the same tactics playing out in our culture as were employed by the Nazis. A favorite tactic of Josef Goebbels, Hitler’s propaganda minister, was to accuse others of the very atrocities they were about to unleash on the people. Riots and thuggery became commonplace, eventually overwhelming the resources of law and order. People forget that Hitler was elected by popular vote by promising to restore Germany’s greatness and bring order to the chaos he himself orchestrated.

Schmidt’s diary is a heartbreaking story of survival in the most adverse of circumstances. Any troubles or difficulties I encounter in life are minimal irritations compared to her trials, for which I am deeply grateful. But when I look around me and see the rioting, the inability or unwillingness of politicians to deal with the destruction of entire neighborhoods, the wanton destruction and violence that goes unchecked, I know that history can repeat itself, and how important it is for us to be ever vigilant. It could happen here; I am grateful it hasn’t, and lay my head on my pillow tonight with a prayer that those who wield power and make decisions have only wisdom, but also integrity and compassion as they lead. With COVID-19, we have seen how drastically life can change almost overnight, as we go around masked and distant from one another. No matter how often we encourage one another to “be safe,” we are not assured of a safe world. But we are assured of God’s presence through whatever comes. On numerous occasions in Mrs. Schmidt’s diary, she writes of Providence that was with them at critical moments. That same Providence is with us, repeatedly commanding us to not be afraid, but to trust in his mercy and grace. It is that mercy and grace that enables me to lie down in peace and rise in the morning with hope and joy, for which I give thanks tonight. 

Sacrificial Hierarchy

 August 29, 2020

In Leviticus 4, God gave Moses the required sacrifices to atone for the sins of the people, who are listed according to a hierarchy of sorts. First was the high priest, then the congregation as a whole, followed by the ruler, and finally the individual Israelite. An interesting feature of these sacrifices is that they are listed in descending order. The more influential the person, the more valuable the sacrifice. Especially interesting to me is the fact that a congregational or corporate sin was considered more serious than that of a ruler, which gives lie to the belief that as the leader goes, so goes the nation. 

Whatever else may be said about it, it seems pretty clear that leadership, especially spiritual leadership carries a weight of responsibility commensurate with the level of leadership, and subsequently, a similar weight of guilt when that responsibility is neglected. It would be easy to paint so many of our political leaders with this brush, as we see them taking credit for successes, but assessing blame elsewhere for their failures, but it is more beneficial for me to examine my own record of leadership. One thing I know for sure: where I have succeeded, it is because I have been surrounded by good and capable people. When I have failed, it was my own heart that led me astray. 

This text challenges me, calls me to repentance, but also holds forth grace. The Sacrifice has been offered in Christ, and it is commensurate with my sin. God forgives, and when he forgives, he also cleanses and confers freedom. Were it not for that hope, I would be in despair.  Instead, I live by faith that is not disappointed, but rather is renewed every day by the Holy Spirit. As I prepare for worship tomorrow, it is with great anticipation because we celebrate the resurrection of Christ, which is the confirmation and assurance that the Sacrifice was accepted and I am forgiven and free.

Different Plans

 

August 28, 2020

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not to your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct your paths.” —Proverbs 3:5-6

One of the first Bible passages I learned as a new Christian was this from Proverbs. This was a lifetime ago, and when something has been with one that long, it’s easy to rattle it off without thinking of its import. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve schemed and plotted my path, only later on to perfunctorily ask God to bless my plans. This time, it was different. When my phone died on the way to Rochester Tuesday, my normal response would have been to buy another one right away. The only thing preventing me from doing just that was the price of even an older generation iPhone. I choke on the tag. And I did offer the matter up in prayer.

I made an appointment with Apple to see if the phone is fixable, but can’t get in for another week. I went to our phone provider and got the pricing for a new one exactly like mine. It wasn’t bad, but then I remembered my old phone with the screen that cracked when it fell out of my pocket coming home from a preaching assignment on my bike. That was all of five years ago, and I still had it in a drawer. It worked, so I called my son Matt to ask if he could swap out the screens. Two different models, same size screen. Jeanine googled it; it sounded like a go, but when we took them apart, the connections inside were different. 

I was resigned to shelling out the bucks for a new phone when Matt said, “Don’t we have an old iPhone 6 lying around?” They had been given one of the new models, so everyone in the house upgraded. It was just like when as a kid I ended up in my brother’s outgrown clothes, except I was now at the bottom of the food chain. I am quite content to be there; its taken a little work to get everything transferred over, but except for text messages, it’s mostly done. 

My understanding took me in one direction, but God had other plans. On top of it all, the electric is finally back on full power and all of our appliances are humming along just fine. It’s been a good, but different day. A half hour’s rest in the MRI machine, lunch with my wife during which we received a Facetime call from granddaughter Alex, a phone fix from my son, working appliances, and topping it all off, a visit from Jo and Mattie, who kept us laughing as they ate all my molasses cookies.

Watch!

 August 27, 2020

Power was out for a couple hours tonight. We ate our supper by the light of our antique kerosene lamps, played a few hands of Rummy, and read. The entire village, along with neighboring Cassadaga, was affected. If any of us were to have had even a momentary feeling of inconvenience, footage of the devastation caused in the Louisiana coastal area by Hurricane Laura put a quick end to it. We are blessed indeed. We haven’t had California’s wildfires, nor the devastation by rioting in Portland, Seattle, Chicago, and now Kenosha. We get snow, but that’s a few months away, and doesn’t do nearly the damage of either storm or riots. 

No one is guaranteed an easy passage through life. I’ve been reading the diary of a Jewish woman who miraculously survived the Nazi purges of the Warsaw ghetto in 1942-43. Almost overnight, the Jewish population went from prosperity and security to abandonment, arrest, brutality, and extermination. We imagine that destruction always happens elsewhere, but it can strike at any time, anywhere. The words of Jesus come to mind: “Watch, for you don’t know the time of your visitation.” I am grateful tonight for the peace we enjoy at the moment, and pray to be prepared for the day when it may end.

Patience

 August 25, 2020

I’ve always thought of myself as a pretty patient man, but today God tested me, and I came up wanting. Yesterday, my phone died. Completely. It won’t turn on...nothing! I had hopes that if worse came to worse, I could trade it in on a newer model, but of course, it’s only worth something if it will start. I don’t need the latest model with bells and whistles; just a basic phone. Unfortunately, years ago, I started with Apple, and converting everything over to a cheaper platform is more than I’m up to tackling. So until further notice, I’m phoneless, which could actually be a blessing. 

Recently, I was informed that the taillight on my truck was out. Not a big deal, right? Wrong! Had it been the turn signal or backup bulb, no problem, but this was the LED circuit; I learned today that the only fix is to buy a complete taillight unit. Instead of a $2 bulb, it suddenly became an $80 problem.

Linda and I have planned for some time now to add on to the house again. Remember my friend Chuck’s comment on the check engine light coming on? We figure we’re at that stage in life where a little preventive maintenance is in order, so we have contracted to have an upstairs laundry built on so we (aka “she”) won’t have to navigate those steep stairs when we get a bit more wobbly on our feet. To do that, the old basement entry which is already collapsing needs to be removed. I began with the inner door. Of course, the outer door is larger and made of steel, so instead of just moving it, I have to completely rebuild the inner doorframe. Nothing is simple in an old house.

I can be all sorts of patient with people. They can be irritable, unreasonable, inconsolable; I can handle that for days at a time. But stuff is supposed to work! I know things wear out, but my tolerance for mechanical, electrical, technological glitches is pretty thin. So today as I was driving from place to place without any success, I had to remind myself of the far worse issues so many people face every day. There are millions who would trade their problems for mine in a heartbeat, so I am thankful tonight for the bumps in my road that shake me out of my complacency, and for the reminder they give me to pray blessings on so many who are in such great need. I can’t say I’m any more patient, but tonight I am more prayerful, and that is good.

 August 25, 2020

Every so often when the occasion arises, my wife will quote an old wive’s tale: “Things happen in threes.” Usually, it’s mentioned relative to deaths, but it could be said of most anything. It’s a superstition of course, but one I’ll ride tonight.

It’s been an odd day. At men’s Bible study tonight, my friend Chuck hit the nail on the head when he said, “You’ve reached the age when the check engine light comes on.” A week and a half ago, I developed an eye infection; I went to my primary physician’s office, saw a nurse practitioner who wasn’t sure what was going on or what to do about it. Visited my eye dr, who glanced my way while walking into the examining room, and said, “I know what’s going on,” and proceeded to tell me what to do. I did it, and it got better. “If it goes into the other eye, you need to see your regular doctor for an antibiotic, because New York is the only state in the union where we aren’t allowed to write prescriptions. 

Last Thursday I had my semi-annual prostate checkup. The doctor looked at my numbers with a worried look on her face. My PSA numbers decided to take a little trip into the stratosphere, prompting the scheduling of an MRI with a followup biopsy probably in the works. In the meantime, my eye infection returned, migrating to the left eye this time. I called my primary physician’s office to have them order the prescription the eye dr recommended if it recurred. Of course, they wanted to see me first. 

Meanwhile, I get a call from the urologist telling me I have a UTI and ordering an antibiotic for it. Fortunately, the scrip had already been called in by the time I got to the doctor’s office, so rather than doubling up, I’ll just be taking the one. I feel like a ping pong ball!

Now for the good news! On my way to get the prescription, I decided to have a cup of coffee. About the only place in town that has inside and patio dining is Panera, so that’s where I landed, and just as I was getting ready to leave, Linda pulls in with three granddaughters in tow. They had been out for a day of birthday shopping, and stopped in for lunch. We laughed a lot, talked about some serious issues, and I left blessed beyond measure. The check engine light may have come on, but this old heart is purring along quite contentedly. In this case, good things do come in threes.

Transformation

 August 23, 2020

One of the most quoted of Bible texts (after John 3:16) is Romans 12:1-2. My thoughts today come from verses 2 & 3, where Paul tells us to not conform to this world, or more precisely, “Don’t be conformed.” His wording is carefully chosen. It’s possible to actively choose conformity, but that’s not how it usually happens. Conformity is generally passive. We conform by allowing ourselves to be led, sometimes in directions and into places we otherwise would not go. “Being” conformed requires an abdication of responsibility and control and is not something actively pursued. 

Transformation on the other hand, is more deliberate. It requires an active change, or renewal in our thinking. It is never passive. As the old saying goes, “Even a dead fish can swim downstream.” Verse two highlights the process. We conform when we think more of ourselves than we ought. we become overconfident in our talent, resources, etc., or even in our ability to resist the crowd. But it is the world that says, “You can be anything you want, or “If you dream it, you can do it.” Paul however, gives the path of transformation: “Think soberly, as God has given you a measure of faith.” Elsewhere (Colossians 3:2 and Philippians 2:1-5), Paul elaborates: “Let this mind be in you which was in Christ” who humbled himself even to a cross. 

Pastors and others who have invested years in studying the Scriptures, often have a difficult time with this. It is easy to let our learning box us into a corner of conformity. To be humble enough to admit our thinking resembles more that of the world around us, with its insistence upon controlling the conversation with proud argumentation is not easy. And when I inwardly cheer on the sarcastic comment about someone or some issue with which I disagree,I am conforming. Transformative thinking chooses prayer over protest, sacrifice over self-interest, and love over hatred.

Weight

 August 22, 2020

In the book of Exodus, God gave Moses the pattern for the high priestly garments Aaron and his successors were to wear when they entered the Tabernacle and later, the Temple. The garment included  “a breastpiece, an ephod, a robe, a woven tunic, a turban and a sash. They are to make these sacred garments for your brother Aaron and his sons, so they may serve me as priests” (Exodus 28:4). No one really knows what the ephod was, but the rest of the attire is pretty straightforward. These garments were magnificent, woven of the finest linen, with gold threads and embroidered with colorful patterns. Whatever the ephod was, it had shoulder pieces set with two onyx stones on which were engraved the names of the tribes of Israel, with the explanation that “Aaron is to bear the names on his shoulders as a memorial before the Lord.” —Exodus 28:12 NIV

The sacred garments also included a breastplate set with twelve stones, each one engraved with the name of one of the tribes so that “Whenever Aaron enters the Holy Place, he will bear the names of the sons of Israel over his heart on the breastpiece of decision as a continuing memorial before the Lord.” —Exodus 28:29 NIV

The purpose is clearly stated. The priest bore on his shoulders the weight of the spiritual leadership of the people, and that weight was to be not only on his shoulders, but also in his heart. Leadership that neglects to shoulder the weight of responsibility and fails to lead out of love can never call itself godly leadership. Sadly, too often even in Christian leadership, the lure of power, recognition, and perks results in a “leadership” that before God is naked and barren. Conversely, godly leadership doesn’t need expensive embroidered robes. The weight is not in the cloth, but in the heart.

The day I retired, I physically felt the burden of leadership lifting from my shoulders as I passed the torch to Joe, my successor. I have watched him lead for seven years now, and know he carries on his shoulders the names of countless people, many of whom I have never met. And beneath those shoulders beats a heart passionate for Jesus and burdened with the names of those whose struggles and problems are beyond human ability to fix. The only way he or any other pastor can truly lead is by bearing those names into the presence of God, just as did the high priest so many years ago. 

I look back, remembering the weight and wondering how much more often I could have carried those names not only on my shoulders, but also before the Lord. Though I no longer shoulder the burden, I still have them in my heart as I pray for them today and for my pastor who has been charged with leadership both weighty and large. I am grateful in these troubled times to have passed that leadership on to younger and stronger shoulders, and to a courageous and compassionate heart. Tomorrow Joe, as you carry the names, give them Jesus!

Words

 August 21, 2020

My Psalm-reading pattern gave me an interesting focal point for my thinking today. Psalm 51:15—“O LORD, open my lips and my mouth shall show forth your praise.” Psalm 81:10–Open your mouth wide and I will fill it.” Psalm 141:3—“Set a guard O LORD, over my mouth. Keep watch over the door of my lips.”

All three of these Psalms deal with the words that come out of my mouth. The first and last are prayers asking God to guide our words; the middle is God’s promise to do just that. These are important prayers which we ought to be praying every day. Have you ever noticed how much easier it is to complain about things than to praise and bless? A profession of faith in Christ doesn’t seem to make much difference; when Christians get together, so much of what we talk about is complaint and worry; so little of praise. No wonder we are so depressed and angry. No wonder we are so ineffectual in our witness and in our prayers.

How often I have failed to keep watch over my lips, opening that door for words of bitterness, complaint, and criticism to escape. Jesus said it’s what comes out of our mouths that defiles us—our words reveal our hearts (Matthew 15:18-19). “A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth that which is good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth evil, for out of the abundance of the heart, his mouth speaks.” The fact that there is so much to legitimately complain about is beside the point; anyone can criticize. It takes faith and determination to compliment and bless in the middle of all the negativity swirling around us.

So once more tonight, I recalibrate my words, not so much by guarding what I say, but what I think—what I allow to set up residence in my heart. It requires constant vigilance, for as the old hymn puts it, my heart is “prone to wander, Lord I feel it; prone to leave the God I love.” St. Paul said it well: I must “take every thought captive to make it obedient to Jesus Christ.” (2 Corinthians 10:5). My thoughts can be like cattle; they want to wander all over the place. I have to round them up, sometimes repeatedly, but when I do, my words follow and when I speak blessing, I find I am blessed myself. 

Dr. Day

 August 20, 2020

“Have you ever noticed that in traditional psychiatry the patient never gets better, but the psychiatrist is healthy? Why do you suppose that is?” The question was of course, rhetorical, and Dr. Day immediately answered it himself. “Because people get emotionally healthy when they learn to pay attention to others. Traditional therapy has the psychiatrist listening while the patient does all the talking. No wonder they never get any better!”

Dr. Day’s therapy had numerous facets that I’ve never seen anywhere else, but which have proven helpful in sorting out people’s issues. His greatest contribution however, was his insight about why people get emotionally sick and how to help them get better. In the middle of a session when the client was elaborating on his or her problem, he would break in and say, “Can you ask me how I’m feeling?” His goal was in his words, to get them to “shift attention” away from themselves and learn to pay attention to someone else’s feelings. Although he didn’t purposely formulate it this way, his approach was remarkably Christian. At its root, sin is narcissistic, a focus on what I want; a neglect of the needs of others.

This morning as I rode into town for a doctor’s appointment, I was feeling pretty low. My life is pretty good, really, but I was burdened in my heart for the many people I know struggling with disease and death, with loneliness and disappointment, with fear and foreboding. To tell the truth, when I look at the present state of affairs in the world, it is pretty depressing. I wasn’t consciously thinking of any of this, but it was there, like a cloud hanging over my head. To clear my mind, while waiting to be called in, I read from my “go-to” devotional, “Daily Light.” In today’s reading were these words: “Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). I clung to these words like a drowning man to a life rope.

After the doctor’s visit, I had coffee and conversation with a friend, went home and helped my son split and stack wood, and then lent my tractor and time to my pastor to move wood chips from a tree stump he had ground up, before planting two yews he gave me. I’m tired and sore, but inside, I feel great...because all that time, I wasn’t thinking about me. I shifted attention, and it made all the difference!

Tonight’s reading caps it all off. The English is antiquated, but the message is clear. 

“If thou faint in the day of adversity, thy strength is small. 

He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength. - My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. - He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him. - The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.”

These are certainly days of adversity, and when my strength is small, Jesus Christ gives power to the faint. His grace is sufficient. He answers when I call. He doesn’t usually do all this through magical or supernatural miracles, but through very ordinary means. I deliberately shift attention away from how I feel to the needs of others, and imperceptibly, but invariably, I feel better. It turned out to be a pretty good day, for which I am very thankful tonight. Thank you, Dr. Day!

Tsoogii

 August 19, 2020

This morning I received some photos and a short video from Mongolia. Seventeen years ago, Linda and I traveled halfway around the world at the invitation of a young Mongolian man we met in Colorado Springs. We had flown there for some counseling training; I went a week early and met Tsogoo at the hotel breakfast bar when he asked if he could sit with me. He was there for the grand opening of Every Home For Christ’s national headquarters there, and introduced me to the assistant to Dick Eastman, the president of the organization. They invited me to join them over the weekend, and when it was all over, Tsogoo decided to stay for a week at the training Linda and I were attending. Since we had a rental car, we drove him back and forth from the hotel to the seminar location, and at the end of the seminar, Tsogoo invited us to come to Mongolia with Every Home for Christ. 

They say one’s first mission experience holds a special place in one’s heart, and our experience is no exception. I visited Mongolia twice before deciding that it was more important for me to bring people to the mission field with me than to go alone. Halfway around the world is expensive, so I accepted an invitation to work in Cuba, where I’ve worked ever since, usually with anywhere from four to eighteen people joining me. But Mongolia still tugs at my heart, and the photos from Tsoogii (Not Tsogoo) today were just another pull on the strings.

To put it bluntly, Tsoogii was a thug. While in prison (which in Mongolia, is not anywhere you would want to be), he came to Christ when some Christians visited and witnessed to him. He ended up marrying one of the workers when his sentence was done, and was working on the EHC team when we were there. And now, seventeen years and four children later, he is still at it, traveling all around the wild countryside sharing the Gospel. Linda and I have been blessed to be able to support Tsoogii and his wife Tsengel in their work. It’s been fifteen years since we’ve been together; I would dearly love to see them once more. He had only been a Christian a short while when we first met, and through an interpreter he called me his spiritual father. I have often felt that I’ve not been a very good one, but miles do impose their limitations.

The pictures Tsoogii sent are reminders that even though we cannot be there in person, we can still have a part in reaching the Mongolian people with the Gospel, We give and we pray, and some day, I hope to meet brothers and sisters in Christ that we had a small hand in bringing into the fold.

Perspective

 August 18, 2020

Perspective is everything. In the Biblical story of the Exodus, we see perspective playing out. Pharaoh didn’t want to lose the people on whose backs his wealth and empire were built (Exodus 14:5), while those same people wanted their freedom. Those two perspectives were irreconcilable. In the Gospel of John, we read of the High Priest frantically searching for a way to have Jesus killed, fearing an uprising that would take away his power and their place in the land (John 11:48). From his perspective, Jesus was the great danger to the Jews, while the Roman governor Pilate found no fault in him (John 18:8). 

The interesting thing about these perspectives is that both Pharaoh and Caiaphas the High Priest thought they were protecting their respective domains, only to discover too late that their actions were actually dooming their people to destruction. They chose their respective institutions over the people and lost both. Moses and Jesus put the people first, especially the powerless and the voiceless. 

We would do well to examine our perspectives carefully. Whenever we choose the institution over the people, we run the risk of losing both. Only when we choose the people is there the possibility of saving them, and perhaps...just perhaps, the institution, too. We are living in an era where in the guise of saving the people, we are choosing the institutions. The people are getting lost in the shuffle, which bodes ill for both the people and the institution.

Hell, No!

 

August 17, 2020

“I am the LORD, your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of bondage. You shall have no other gods before me...” (Exodus 20:2-3). When I was a child, I remember seeing the cover of a LIFE magazine (or it may have been LOOK), featuring flames behind huge letters spelling out, “How to Stay out of Hell.” Go figure! I can’t imagine such a cover today. I read those bold headlines and said to myself, “That’s easy; just do more good than bad.” I hadn’t yet heard the Gospel of grace, and believed as so many do, in the power of good works, not realizing that doing good in one area of life doesn’t mitigate the wrong we’ve done in other areas. Robbery is not rendered harmless because murder was not committed.

The Law was given, not to save us, but to show us how saved people live. Notice how the giving of the Ten Commandments began—with a declaration of God’s identity and character: “I am the LORD.” Whenever “lord” is in all capitals, it is the proper name of God, which earlier in Exodus was revealed as “I Am,” a simple declaration of God’s nature as the Source and Foundation of all that exists. This sentence actually reads, “I Am I Am...,”emphasizing this facet of his identity. 

The Law was given after their deliverance from Egypt, not before. Salvation had already been accomplished, not on the basis of Israel’s goodness or faithfulness, but on God’s. It’s good for us that things work this way. God is the Faithful One, the Able One, Who is willing to save by his choice, not ours. I was mistaken those years ago. We stay out of hell, not by doing more good than bad, but by the grace of a loving and powerful God who chose us for himself before showing us how saved and delivered people should live.

Wind and Fire

 August 16, 2020

“Green wood doesn’t burn well because it’s full of sap—the lifeblood of the tree. We cannot be ignited by the fire of God until we release our old lifeblood—the sap by which we used to live in the world.” This morning in worship, my son gave this word picture of how God works in us. St. Paul put it this way: “Put off the old man...put on Christ.” (Ephesians 4:22, 24)

We Christians speak freely about wanting the fire of the Holy Spirit to descend upon us as it did at Pentecost, but what good is the fire if the wood won’t burn? Until we expose the wood of our souls to the drying wind of the Holy Spirit, God cannot set us on fire. The wind of God often  blows hard, bringing dryness to our souls, but it is a necessary step in the work of God, seasoning the old life out of us till he can set us ablaze.

John Wesley was once asked how it was that such large crowds gathered in fields in the early hours of the day to hear him preach. His response: “I just set myself afire and people come to watch me burn.” Sadly, we are often content to sputter along, giving off more smoke than heat and light. 

A preacher was visiting a lapsed church member who objected that he didn’t need to be in church to be a Christian. They happened to be sitting at a campfire, so without a word, the preacher poked one of the blazing logs with his toe, moving it to the side by itself. The flame soon flickered and died. “I understand,” said the church member. “I’ll see you Sunday.” COVID has taken its toll on church attendance, with many of God’s people watching from home, often huddled in fear. They may not see it right away, but the flame is slowly dying as their hearts grow cold. 

I am thankful tonight that the very same Wind that blew through Pentecost, seasoning those 120 souls so the fire could rest upon them, still blows today when God’s people are gathered in Christ’s name. May it come in hurricane strength so the fire can become a conflagration of holiness and salvation!

Instinct

 August 15, 2020

In only two days, they were drawing out comb. Thursday when I drove in the driveway, I could hear the buzzing, so I immediately began looking, and this time, the swarm had gathered where I was able to capture them and put them into an empty hive body. Honeybees are fascinating creatures. If a colony gets too crowded, they will raise a new queen which stays behind while the old queen leaves with perhaps half the colony. Given that a strong colony can consist of up to 100,000 bees, we’re talking a lot of bees in the swarm. When the queen lands, they gather around her in a protective ball that can fill a bushel basket. I set up a ladder in the back of my pickup truck, climbed up and shook the swarm into a styrofoam cooler, then into a new hive body. The ones that landed outside the hive body soon were marching into it, which meant I had the queen inside.

This evening, I checked on them, and they had already started making cells for the queen to lay her eggs. At the rate of one every ten seconds, by the end of goldenrod season, it should be strong enough to overwinter.

God’s creativity and imagination can be seen in Creation. My bees are carrying out the instincts God placed into them, which are quite unique and very different than the instincts of dogs and cats and jellyfish. They merely do what has been programmed into them. We humans are the only creatures who choose our actions. There are those who believe we too, are mere automatons, behaving inexorably according to instinct or biological programme, but in fact, God has given us free will—the ability to choose how we respond to the world and conditions in which we live. We are unique in all Creation in that we alone can and do rebel against God’s will. However, God in his mercy has provided a means of return—faith in the work of Jesus Christ, crucified for our sins, and risen to give us new life. I am grateful for my bees, but even more that my life is not circumscribed by the unwavering instinct that governs theirs. I am free in Jesus Christ to live by grace instead of necessity.

Just. Enough

 August 14, 2020

In the Biblical story of the Exodus, God provided manna in the desert as food for the children of Israel. For forty years, this was the staple of their diet. “In the morning the dew lay all around the camp. And when the layer of dew lifted, there, on the surface of the wilderness, was a small round substance, as fine as frost on the ground” (Exodus 16:13-14). The text goes on to say, “It was like white coriander seed, and the taste of it was like wafers made with honey” (Exodus 16:31). They were instructed to gather enough for a day at a time for each family. Then there is a curious note in the story.

“So when they measured it by omers, he who gathered much had nothing left over, and he who gathered little had no lack. Every man had gathered according to each one’s need.”   —Exodus 16:18 NKJV

In more than forty years of Christian ministry, I learned that it is pretty common when counseling for the recipient to say something like, “but you don’t know MY situation. You haven’t walked in my shoes.” And knowing this to be true, it was always tempting to back off, which left the recipient feeling justified, but unchanged. This text challenges that kind of rationalization. I may not know another’s situation, but God does, and has just the right remedial in just the right amount. 

I gave up counseling and instead began what I called “prayer therapy.” Most people who came for it had already made up their mind what they were going to do, and merely wanted me to bless their decision. And if they were truly confused about their situation, I was never clever enough to thread my way through their story. I was never wise enough, but I was always ignorant enough to pray, and when I did, I found that God was always enough. Just enough for the day.

None of These Diseases

 August 13, 2020

S.I. McMillan, a physician and Houghton College luminary, wrote a book in 1963 entitled, “None of These Diseases,” in which he spoke of the healthy lifestyle promoted by the Levitical dietary laws. This was of course, before many of today’s gurus of healthy living had even been born. The title of his book was taken from Exodus 15:26, where God promises to spare the Hebrews the ravages of the diseases that apparently were common in Egypt at the time. Immediately following this promise, God declares himself to be Jehovah Rophe—The Lord Who Heals.

Many Christians have taken up the Name while forgetting the conditions. we sing about the Lord our Healer, invoke his healing power and claim it in prayer, but neglect the conditions clearly laid out in Scripture. We are over-fed, over-medicated, and over-weight, and cannot understand why we are plagued with heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, gastric and lung issues. We follow the world’s distorted sexual ethics, poison our bodies with artificial additives, consume “food” that has had all the natural nutrients processed out of it, only to be artificially and chemically added back in. I wonder what would happen if “Bible-believing” Christians would actually begin to believe the parts dealing with our bodies. 

The Lord truly is our healer, but it is up to us to cooperate with his methods. Just as one cannot be saved apart from repentance, so one cannot be healthy apart from the proper choices in life. I am grateful tonight for the healing power of God, and also for the clear instructions in his Word designed to keep us healthy.

Goading the gods

August 12, 2020

“Against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgment: I am the LORD.” —Exodus 12:12

The Biblical Exodus story has been a source of inspiration for freedom movements everywhere. “Let my people go!” was the cry of abolitionists from Harriet Tubman, Frederick Douglass, and Walt Whitman to Martin Luther King, Jr. An oppressed people delivered from a seemingly invincible world power is the stuff of dreams. But there is a lesser-known facet of the story highlighted in the text above. 

Deliverance from oppression is one thing; building a nation and an identity that transcends slavery is quite another, and according to the Scriptural narrative, neither can be accomplished by human effort alone. It required a leader, a vision, and the call of an Almighty God. Anything less is doomed to failure because it fails to take into account the spiritual nature of oppression. Slavery is a mindset as well as a policy. Remove the policy, and the mindset remains in both the oppressor and the oppressed. Too often, people have striven to alter the policy without transforming the thinking and attitudes of either side.

What’s more, oppression is demonic. Satan is the author of bondage. His whole purpose is to enslave and destroy. Any attempt to deal with oppression, slavery, and injustice must be able to encompass the demonic roots of oppression, and unfortunately for merely secular programs, they are ill-equipped to deal with spiritual entities. Today’s Scripture highlights the demonic elements of oppression—God was not only setting his people free; he was demonstrating his power over the demonic authorities that governed Egypt. 

We tend to think this kind of talk is antiquated; that it is a relic of a bygone and superstitious era, but we have no problem speaking of corporate or team spirit. We use that kind of language, but fail to appreciate its import. There is something very real about it, even if we cannot fully define it. For the past two months, we’ve witnessed mobs of mostly young people roaming through city streets, destroying property, assaulting police officers, and looting indiscriminately. Most of those doing this would never do so on their own. It is when they gather together that something is created that wasn’t there before. Call it what you will—mob spirit, mob mentality, sociopathy—behind it are the principalities and powers of which St. Paul speaks in Ephesians 6. According to the Bible, these same powers rule entire nations, holding vast numbers of people in bondage. 

When God sets people free, he does so by breaking the demonic powers that hold people captive, which makes me wonder—What false gods hold us in their power? Is the present pandemic God’s way of breaking the power of our culture’s gods of pleasure, greed, sports, and unending pursuit of bigger and better? I love watching baseball and basketball, and miss seeing my Cubbies, but perhaps it’s good to let go so I am free to pursue more significant matters. If so, as much as it pains me, I will thank God for his harsh but clear action to set me free.

 

Appearances

 August 11, 2020

“It feels like I’ve wasted the day,” she offered.

I responded, “How can you say that when you spent it with me?” 

Linda and I both like to feel we’ve accomplished something by the end of the day, and starting the day with a visit to the eye doctor, then having coffee together on the patio at Panera before checking out a couple of the few stores left in the mall didn’t feel like accomplishment to her. I beg to differ. Conversation over a cup of joe is never time wasted, and today our talk ranged from our granddaughter’s wedding to the limitations imposed by our governor in response to COVID to how God has blessed us so we’re able to freely give to our friends in Cuba.

Once home, she took the littlest granddaughter to the beach while I ran an errand to the post office before measuring the back yard for Abi and Jake’s wedding reception, A little work for the village board, an early dinner followed by conversation with a few of the regulars at the swimming hole before repairing the recliner Abi bought from a friend a few months ago concluded with putting everything away and picking beans while Linda visited with our daughter in law

The Dr. said to put hot compresses on my eye, so as soon as I finish typing, that’s what I’m going to do. What started as a pretty benign day with nothing getting accomplished has turned out to be a full, and fulfilling, day. 

We are told in Scripture to be very careful about passing judgment. We usually think of this in terms of judging other people, but it also applies to judging the value of experiences and even of those times where we are sidelined for whatever reason. The Bible says the judgment only comes at the very end of time. There is a reason for that. We never know in the middle of life the value of any single part of it. That which seems useless or wasted may be the very thing God uses to completely change the trajectory of our lives, and those things we deem so important often turn out to be rabbit trails in disguise. This day offered up more than it first appeared. Someday, the Great and Mighty will find themselves taking a back seat to the humble and unknown who lived with great dignity and integrity amidst circumstances most appalling. The beginning is no measure of the end, which gives me both great caution and great comfort. 

Eyes to See

 August 10, 2020

The back roads ride to the doctor’s office was pleasant, but the actual visit didn’t accomplish anything. Saturday my right eye started itching, and by Sunday night, it was swollen, the lid tender to the touch. This has happened before, and the ointment the eye doctor prescribed then seemed to do the trick. This time, it hasn’t made a lick of difference. My regular GP wasn’t in the office today, so the PA saw me. She recommended I continue the ointment that so far hasn’t worked; I’ll do it, but we’ll have to wait and see if it does any good.

I got to thinking about the millions of people around the world who have little if any access to a doctor, and for whom antibiotics and other medicines are completely unavailable. For me, if things don’t improve, I can go back and they’ll try something else. For most people throughout history, an eye infection such as I have was a shortcut to blindness. No, I didn’t get the answer I had hoped for, but the ride was beautiful, and I still have options. I am very blessed today!

Unashamed

 August 9, 2020

Three preachers this morning spoke to their respective congregations from Romans 10, with the focus on verse 11—“For the Scripture says, “Whoever believes on Him will not be put to shame.”” Three different sermons from the same text; it would be interesting to compare notes. 

I was one of those three preachers, and am all too familiar with shame. Two incidents came to mind. The first was when I was about ten, and was caught stealing strawberries. Until I looked up at at the policeman towering over me, it hadn’t occurred to me why my friend and I were crawling our way on our bellies into the strawberry patch. I was definitely ashamed when he brought me home to face my mother. And then there was the time as a new Christian I tried witnessing to my friend and he laughed at me. The shame I felt dug so deeply into my soul that I still struggle with sharing my faith. In the first instance, I felt shame for what I had done; in the second, I was shamed by another. There are plenty of other instances I can recall, but these two will suffice.

Shame in the first instance was internal—the result of my own behavior. In the second instance, the shame was external—imposed upon me by someone else. Both kinds of shame have the same effect. They serve to disconnect us from others. We are isolated as if a spotlight were focused on us and us alone. We get defensive, rationalizing our behavior. And we are defeated by it; shame has a way of deflating our confidence in life.

There is a third kind of shame: Internal, External, and Eternal. If we allow ourselves to focus on our sin, eventually it robs us of life itself. Paul says “Whoever believes on him will not be put to shame.” The problem with shame is it is narcissistic. It focuses on me; what I have or have not done. The Gospel always directs us away from self to the Cross where Jesus took our shame upon himself so we could be free from it. Unfortunately, too many of us continue to believe our feelings instead of Jesus Christ. We feel the accusations of our conscience and of the devil (“the accuser of the brethren”) and begin to take those feelings as gospel when instead we should be believing the real Gospel that says if we place our trust in Christ and what he did for us on the Cross, we have no reason to be ashamed. Our sins are forgiven and forgotten by God. When we truly believe that, shame ceases to be eternal, and for this I am deeply grateful tonight.

A Good Day

 

August 8, 2020

It’s been a long time since I slept in past 6:30, but today, it was almost 8:00 am. After grabbing a quick breakfast, I took the tractor tire to the tire shop for mounting. Fifteen bucks and minutes later, I was on my way home. It was important to get it done first thing, because little Nate was coming over in the afternoon to help move firewood, and I needed some time with the Lord before things started getting crazy. 

On my way home, I stopped at son Nathan’s to see his new wood splitter in operation. He fired it up, and I have to say, I was impressed! Instead of hydraulic, it’s kinetic, depending on a huge flywheel and springs to split the wood. It is about twice as fast as any hydraulic I’ve seen, and before I left, he offered to bring it over to split up the chunks from the trees we had cut down a couple weeks ago. 

A little later, he pulled in, just about the same time as his nephew little Nate. Less than three hours later, we had five cords split and stacked, and I haven’t even started on the wood out back. All this to say, this 71 year-old body is a slight bit tired. My workout schedule called for a half hour of cardio today, but I think I’m going to pass. 

It’s been a good day, working with Linda and the two Nates. The only cloud in the sky was those ungrateful bees that decided this afternoon that it was time to take off for parts unknown. On the bright side, at 71, I’m able to do things many people half my age are unable to do, and I’m looking forward to preaching once more in Dunkirk, this time on a subject I actually know something about—shame. I’ve known it, and I’ve experienced Jesus lifting that weight from my shoulders. It’s going to be a good day, and I am already thankful for it.

Swarming

 August 7, 2020

It’s past my bedtime, so tonight’s musings will be short. The day didn’t begin quite as I had expected, which just goes to prove, very few things in this life are certain. I trusted the little buggers to do what they’re supposed to, and they let me down. When I checked my beehives this morning, one of them was unusually busy. The bees that weren’t covering the entire front of the hive were flying all over the place in a buzzing frenzy. I knew what that meant, and it was completely unexpected. They were swarming.

Swarming happens when the hive gets crowded. They raise a new queen, then about half the colony absconds with the old queen, looking for a new domicile. I had checked them earlier in the week, and everything seemed OK, but obviously, they didn’t think so. It’s not always a bad thing. It means the colony is strong, but it’s still a loss of a few thousand bees. If they land in an accessible place like a low hanging branch, it’s a relatively simple matter to catch them and put them into a new hive. These however, decided to land on a branch of our cherry tree about thirty feet in the air. I put out an empty hive body, hoping they might decide it would be a good place to take up housekeeping, but so far, they’re still on the branch. If they don’t choose my hive within a couple days, who knows where they’ll end up? 

Bees can be somewhat predictable. Their instincts are programmed into them by God, which is why we are able to take advantage of them, collecting honey, beeswax, and pollen. But even as predictable as they are, they sometimes surprise us. 

We like life when it’s predictable, but every so often God throws in a curve ball to keep us on our toes and trusting him. It can be uncomfortable and inconvenient, but it’s a good thing, keeping us from getting complacent. I hope my bees come home, but if they don’t, I’ve learned a lesson, in bees and in life. It’s important to be able to read the signs of the times, and then to take appropriate action before life swarms on us. Once it begins, there’s no controlling it. The time to deal with a swarm is before it happens. The time to deal with a life crisis is before it happens. With bees, the signs are inside the hive. The life signs we need to learn to read are also inside. We need to be paying attention not just what is going on around us, but even more importantly, to what is happening inside us. It’s the only way to adequately prepare for a crisis.

Good and Evil

August 6, 2020

Whenever something I perceive as good comes my way, it’s easy to attribute it to God’s blessing; and conversely, when something I perceive as bad comes, to ascribe it to the devil’s hand. But what if my perception is skewed, or even completely wrong? Sometimes the perceived blessing is a diversion from God’s will. Likewise, the evil I attribute to Satan might just be God’s hand shielding me from a greater harm.

Psalm 66:10-12 reveals God as one who tests us, who “laid affliction on our backs.” The immediate moment is rarely he best time to discern the benefit or detriment of a matter.

Years ago, my friend Brick (called that because of his brick-red hair) talked with a paraplegic. The man had been in a car accident and was now confined to a wheelchair. That accident and subsequent paralysis led him to an evangelistic meeting where he came to faith in Christ. Brick asked him if he would trade knowing Christ for being able to walk again. The man responded, “That accident was the best thing that ever happened to me. For the first time in my life, I know joy.” As Joseph told his brothers, “You meant it for evil; God used it for good.”

Of late, there has been much talk in our country about racism. Slavery and prejudice and the injustices and inequality that has resulted from them are horrible and atrocious evils. But (This is a difficult thing to say, and will no doubt earn me a few enemies and no end of comments), for THIS generation, the evil of past slavery has become the means by which blessing has come, for by this evil, countless blacks live in the United States, today enjoying freedoms and opportunities their brothers and sisters in Nigeria, Rwanda, and other African countries cannot even imagine. Was slavery good? Absolutely not! Is injustice and inequality good? Absolutely not. But that evil institution that caused so much suffering and pain throughout generations also became the means by which many have been able to achieve much, and one to even become president of the United States. As Joseph told his brothers, “You meant it for evil; God used it for good.” 

Arc of History

August 5, 2020

We naturally chafe against restrictions, especially if they seem unreasonable or foolish. We like our freedoms and relinquish them reluctantly. Given the propensity of world leaders throughout history to deny, restrict, or destroy the freedoms of ordinary people, this chafing and resistance is not improper. In fact, it is necessary if we are to remain citizens and not become subjects or even worse, slaves. Our former president was enamored with speaking about being “on the right side of the arc of history,” but most people fail to realize that historically, the arc of history has not been our friend.

And yet...

It intrigues me that so much of the Bible is in narrative form. It tells stories; not fanciful tales, but stories of real people encountering real life. Those stories can be beautiful and noble, but often are ugly and tragic. The people we call heroes of the Bible are all-too-human; someone once said that the way we should approach these stories is not, “Oh, I wish I could be like them,” but “Forgive me, I am like them!” The Bible is not a primarily a book of philosophy or ethical teaching, although it includes both. It is the story of God invading human space to deliver us from ourselves. It is this aspect of our faith that captured my attention today.

The latter half of Genesis is devoted to the story of Jacob and his sons. Jacob is a scoundrel—hardly the type anyone would cast as the hero, but nevertheless is God’s chosen man, which should give us hope. If God chose him, there’s no reason to believe he wouldn’t choose us.

Jacob’s sons haven’t fallen far from the tree. They are a jealous, vengeful bunch, spiteful and scheming, so when Joseph, the spoiled, favorite child comes prancing into camp, he is seized, thrown into a pit, and finally sold to a caravan of slave traders, ending up in Egypt. He is young, handsome, and catches the eye of his master’s wife, but when her advances are rebuffed, she frames him and has him thrown in jail, where he remains for a number of years. His ability to interpret dreams stands him in good stead however, and he is finally released and ends up second in command to Pharaoh himself. When famine strikes the region, his plan has already been put into play, which not only saves Egypt, but makes them the breadbasket for everyone in the vicinity. 

Enter Joseph’s brothers, who are now begging for food. Joseph has a little fun at their expense, but finally reveals himself to them with these words: “You sold me...God sent me.” I like that. Towards the end of his life when his brothers once again are worried about how their mistreatment of him might rebound on their own miserable heads, he reiterates what he had said earlier, “What you meant for evil, God meant for good.”

Notice, he didn’t say that what happened to him was good, but that God used it for good. There is much in life that in and of itself is not good. We often encounter circumstances that seem designed to take us down, but if all we can see is the evil, we will miss the purposes and plans of God. Admittedly, it took Joseph some 13 years to learn this lesson, and I’m sure an Egyptian dungeon wasn’t exactly cushy digs, but God’s plans are not always observable in the immediate. Because of that, we would do well to be somewhat cautious about fighting circumstances we cannot control. Those very circumstances so filled with evil may actually be the means God uses for a greater good, which is why faith in God is so critical. Without such faith, events are merely that—things that just happen, without purpose or meaning. And without purpose, we are left to make our own morality, which soon inevitably devolves into anarchistic survival of the fittest. 

Thus the theory of evolution proves itself by devouring its proponents. The arc of history strikes again, and it isn’t pretty. But for we who believe, God is at work, and God wastes nothing. Even the evil of this world will someday bow before him, and for that, we can be thankful tonight.

Waking Up

August 4, 2020

Devotional reading of the Bible much of the time just doesn’t cut it for me. I get to the end of my time or the text and it often seems like just ink on the page. Reading for sermons however, is quite another matter. Sometimes it feels like I’m swimming through mud, but there usually comes a point where suddenly it all comes together in an “aha!” moment, and when it does, the feeling is glorious. 

This morning was one of those slogging through the mire times. I read my passages in the Psalms, did some reading in Genesis, tried to pray, but got nowhere. Unbeknownst to me, God had an ace up his sleeve. I had been invited to participate in a sermon preparation session with pastors Joe, Brandon, and Tom, so at 1:30, I saddled up the sidecar and headed down the road. I had been given the text for Sunday’s sermon ahead of time, but even with advance preparation, I was getting nowhere. We sat down, Joe prayed, and we began to work. 

Their approach and mine are somewhat different, and I am having a bit of difficulty trying to figure out how this will work for me in practice, but their insights and our conversation helped me see things and make life connections that I hadn’t noticed before. The Scripture came alive to me, or perhaps it’s better to say that the Living Word awakened me to life, and I left that meeting knowing God had spoken. So I am thankful tonight for the Word of God, for men who function as the Proverbs says, “iron sharpening iron,” and for the Holy Spirit who awakened my sleeping soul to the dawning of God’s grace.

Engagement!

August 3, 2020

“Oh Jim! Oh Jim! Oh Jim!” That’s all she said. I was on one knee, asking Linda to be my wife. She never said, “Yes.” To be sure, six months later, she did say, “I do,” but she never actually said, “yes.” It had just turned midnight on December 1st, 1969, and we had gotten things a bit out of order. No...I don’t mean that! I hadn’t asked her father’s blessing. So at about 1:00 am, I called. He answered, gave his blessing, and we hung up. In the morning, Linda’s mom asked, “What did Jim want when he called?” 

“Jim called?” was his response, lesson being, if you want the right answer, you have to know when to ask the question.

All that came rushing back today with a text picture from our granddaughter Abi. In the blink of an eye, she went from being a girlfriend to being a fiancée, and we are delighted! Jake is a fine young man who loves the Lord and knows his responsibility to protect her heart. They stopped by an hour later so she could show us her ring in person. We talked and sent them on their way with our blessing also. 

It’s different when it’s your grandchildren. They are one generation removed and we are just that much older that our perspective is slightly changed. We are fortunate in having been a big part of their lives, more so than most grandparents. The fact that she wanted us to see says a lot. They can only imagine the blessings and the challenges that lie before them. Linda and I are at that stage in life where most of the challenges are behind us and many blessings yet before us, but even with fifty years of experience, we cannot imagine how different the world will be for them. The one constant through our marriage is the same as will be for them: Jesus is Lord, and in him is a love and mercy greater than they know, which is the source and fountain in which their love will flourish to bless them as it has blessed us. What was an otherwise ordinary day has been made extraordinary by being privileged to share in their joy.

Pain

August 2, 2020

Whenever I get a text from our church’s prayer chain, I expect to hear of someone having surgery or dealing with a medical condition, asking for healing. Occasionally, it is a request for prayers on behalf of someone grieving or in need of a job or a different place to live. Very rarely a request comes across for someone’s salvation. I cannot recall a single time someone asked to be able to discern the hand of God in their troubles, which makes me ask, “What if instead of praying for healing, we desired to know Christ better through the affliction?” I ask this not as a rhetorical question, but in all practicality.

For the past two years, I’ve had a recurring pain in my left hip. It started in May, just before a few of us from church were scheduled to embark on a jungle trek in Cuba. Knowing we would be hiking up and down mountain trails for three days, I was a bit worried. I prayed hard before leaving, and God heard my prayers; I had no problems whatsoever on the trip. But when we returned, it flared up again, and has steadily gotten worse over the intervening years. It’s not debilitating, but I’ve talked to my primary care doctor, and made numerous trips to the chiropractor. The latter helps momentarily, but before long, that hip is jabbing me, calling for attention. Between that and the stabbing pains in my left hand, there are things I can no longer do, and I certainly don’t look forward to that day when I can no longer play my bass.

Jacob’s story continues to arrest me. I woke this morning thinking of how after wrestling with God through the night, Jacob limped back to his family. To someone who has never had difficulties walking, these are mere words; we hear them, picture the scene in our minds, draw whatever lessons there are to be learned, and go on our way, thoughtlessly nursing whatever wounds, aches, and pains we have. Having a hip that keeps grabbing my attention suddenly makes this story take on new meaning for me. What if this pain is God’s reminder of his work and presence in my life? What if every time it sends a shock up my spine, God is whispering, “Listen to Me?” Too often, our aches and pains instead become the lens through which we view life; our focus begins to turn inward till all we see is what is wrong in our world.

The Enemy of our souls is a liar, and one of his most effective lies is that our troubles are terminal, that health issues, relationship problems, or financial troubles spell the end of meaningful life. This is not to minimize our problems, but too often I’ve watched people’s attitude to turn a temporary valley into a permanent hole in the ground, otherwise known as a grave. Lord knows, I’ve done it often enough myself, but over the years I’ve learned how foolish it is to allow my situation or other people shrink my world to it’s immediate circumstances and how they affect me. It all becomes quite narcissistic. God always stands outside and above this world; as long as there is a God in heaven, there is no reason for me to allow my world to shrink so small as to not include him and the possibilities he brings to life. This hip that makes me limp then ceases to be an obstacle, and instead becomes an opportunity to seek Christ, and in seeking, I find him, and in finding him, I find life.