Patience

 March 31, 202

We live in interesting times. A former president is indicted by a grand jury, the Left is ecstatic, the Right sees a witch-hunt, and both sides are battling each other for their own advancement, power, influence, money, and glory. Meanwhile, the nation suffers. The Biblical prophecy has come true:

“I will give children to be their princes, 

And babes shall rule over them. 

The people will be oppressed, 

Every one by another and every one by his neighbor; 

The child will be insolent toward the elder, 

And the base toward the honorable.”

—Isaiah 3:4-5 

It’s nothing new. These words were spoken of Israel some 2700 years ago. The more things change, the more they stay the same. The NT letter of James tells a similar story. Ordinary people in the church were impressed with the finery of the rich, catering to and honoring them while ignoring and humiliating the poor in their midst. James spares no invective as he exposes the powerful for who they really are; the very ones who haul the poor into court, cheat their laborers, hold their thumb on the scales of the law. 

What is surprising is that he doesn’t call for the victims asserting their rights, rising up in righteous indignation, taking their oppressors to court. I grew up believing in a system that I expected to be fair and unbiased. My black brothers and sisters have often had a very different experience, one that the rest of us may be seeing soon, as the legal system is increasingly biased and at times even predatory.

James’ response to this oppression is simple: “Be patient.” Simple doesn’t mean easy. Patience in the midst of injustice requires self-control, and a rock-solid belief that God is still in control. James is clear however, that this patience is not borne of weakness. Sometimes people are patient because they have no options. Not here. Listen to the rest of his statement in chapter 5, verse 7: 

“Therefore be patient, brethren, until the coming of the Lord.” 

That latter phrase is important. Patience without hope and faith in an omniscient, almighty, and loving God is merely acquiescence to a fate one cannot control. Patience in suffering only makes sense if God will indeed someday make all things right. And in this life, patience is only possible when I fix my gaze upon Jesus Christ, sitting in power and glory at the right hand of the Father, instead of on all the shenanigans of the rich and powerful of this world. That gaze is utterly critical. If I turn away even for a moment, all I see is the mess of this world, and I begin to spiral into despair. But I can be patient when I see Jesus and know that the day is coming when he will return and set things right.

Far Beyond Me

 March 29, 2023

My morning prayer time with my friends Jeff and Rich always begins with a Psalm; today’s was 131. I should read this about every other day, as it has a message I need to hear regularly.

“LORD, my heart is not proud, 

Nor mine eyes lofty: 

Neither do I exercise myself in great matters, 

Or in things too high for me. 

Surely I have behaved and quieted myself, 

As a child that is weaned of his mother: 

My soul is even as a weaned child. 

Let Israel hope in the LORD 

From henceforth and for ever.”

—Psalm 131:1-3 

The news these days are increasingly bleak. Six people shot by a trans woman at a Christian school, and the mainstream media blames the victims and exonerates the murderer while our president jokes about ice cream. I’d bet the moniker of “hate crime” won’t even be whispered.

As society plunges further into demonic delusion and degradation, our only hope is the hope offered by this psalm: “Let Israel (and all others who believe) trust in the LORD from henceforth and forever.” And while we are trusting in him, I remind myself not to concern myself with things far beyond me, but to quiet myself in God as a small child is quieted in his mother’s presence.

Entwined

 March 28, 2023

My gratitude calendar this morning read, “Three gifts entwined,” a rather intriguing thought. 

The very first entwined gift that came to mind was the love between Linda and myself. Our lives have been entwined for 53 years. Not only the major cords of faith, faithfulness, and bodies, but also the ensuing strands of children, grandchildren, of sacrifices and prayers, countless hours, gifts, sickness, joys, tears, and forgiveness. The threads of our lives are so interwoven that only death will be able to separate them. Ours is more than a threefold cord that cannot be broken; it is thousands of strands that bind us securely to each other.

I thought also of my grapevines, how the tendrils curl around anything that may offer the slightest bit of support. In Cassadaga, they flourished, but the few miles that separate us from that community apparently are enough to stunt their growth. Four years, and my vines are thin and spindly, far from being productive, illustrating that no matter how deeply intertwined, without roots that burrow deep into good soil, neither the plant nor the person can thrive. There have been times in our past when either one of us could have given up and called it quits, with ample justification, but we both were rooted and grounded in Christ, who nourished and strengthened us so we could flourish and be fruitful.

Of course, Jesus Christ is the original Vine of which we are the branches. His encircling me with grace, forgiveness, and life is what grabbed ahold and keeps hold of this wayward heart. 

King Moretone

 March 27, 2023

My beloved bass is broken. Having taken it to the Footsteps youth weekend, on Saturday evening I was carrying it from the dining hall to the chapel when I stumbled. We both went down; I got right up with only a slight bruising to my ego and as I later discovered, to my ribs. My bass didn’t fare so well, the scroll snapped completely off.

After asking about me, people told me how sorry they were about my bass. Well, I am sorry, too. It was a pristine 1938 King Moretone, the second year of production. It has a great booming sound, and to think that I damaged it is a bit disconcerting. It’s not however, the end of the world. My stock reply has been, “It’s just stuff.” It can either be repaired, or I can buy another instrument.

A month or two ago, I probably wouldn’t have had this attitude, but from our small group learning experience on how to hear from God, I’ve learned to hold onto things loosely. It began with God’s word to me about that hunting rifle, the Mini-14 that I had had my eye on. When I read about laying aside the weights that hold us back, I asked God what weight he had in mind. “Mini-14” was all that came to mind. “Anything else, Lord,’ I asked hopefully, but try as I might, nothing else came to mind. The next day he took it further, telling me that even if someone should tell me it’s really OK to have this rifle (technically, that’s true), because God said no, I had better leave it at that. 

It’s pretty small stuff really. It’s not as if God is telling me to live in austerity, but he seems quite interested in breaking any hold that material things have on me. I have to say, I really loved that bass! I was even quite proud of it in a way. But now it’s broken, and surprisingly to me, it doesn’t matter. God hasn’t said I can’t have a bass; in fact, I have a backup instrument. He does seem intent on stripping away any pride I had in it.

It’s really quite freeing to be able to say it’s only stuff. Already I can sense the difference in me when it comes to the things I own. I am glad to have the things I have, but I’m learning to hold them loosely so I can be free to obey the Lord in any matter he chooses. The Bible tells us not to love the world or the things in it. I’m getting there, and it feels good.

Who’s in Charge?

 March 26, 2023

“Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray. Is anyone cheerful? Let him sing psalms. Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise him up. And if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven. Confess your trespasses to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much. Elijah was a man with a nature like ours, and he prayed earnestly that it would not rain; and it did not rain on the land for three years and six months. And he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain, and the earth produced its fruit.” —James 5:13-18 

Have you ever felt that your prayers are doing little more than bouncing off the ceiling? You’ve been praying for your loved one who has been diagnosed with cancer, for your marriage that feels like it’s going down the drain, or for the job that looks like it’s going to be cut. Your prayers are desperate, but seem to be accomplishing nothing. 

You read about Elijah and wonder what it would take to be able to pray like that and have the heavens dry up for three years. Well, you don’t have to wonder any longer. The Bible tells us exactly what made Elijah’s prayers so effective. In 1 Kings 17 and 18, we read these words:

And Elijah the Tishbite, of the inhabitants of Gilead, said to Ahab, “As the Lord God of Israel lives, before whom I stand, there shall not be dew nor rain these years, except at my word.”

“Then Elijah said, “As the Lord of hosts lives, before whom I stand, I will surely present myself to him today.”” —I Kings 17:1 & 18:15

Did you see it? Twice we read that Elijah says he stood before the Lord. He says this as a way of describing himself; this wasn’t an occasional practice, but a regular habit. What does that mean? 

If you’ve ever been to court, you know that everyone is sitting down waiting for the judge when the bailiff opens the door to the judge’s chambers. As the judge enters the courtroom, the bailiff intones, “Everyone rise!” Everyone stands till the judge is seated. The judge is in the place of authority and power. He or she can be diminutive and physically weak, but when seated behind the bench, there is no question who is in charge. Standing means you are in a subordinate position. You aren’t calling the shots.

When we go to a restaurant, we don’t expect the waiter to sit down and eat with you. He stands throughout your meal, attending upon your needs and desires. Instead of standing around twiddling her thumbs, she busily waits upon you. That’s the picture painted for us in Isaiah 40:31.

“Those who wait on the Lord Shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint.”

Elijah stood before the Lord, busily waiting upon him, listening carefully for the slightest hint of a command. He didn’t quit, but neither did he spend his time trying to convince God to do his bidding. Instead, he stood before the Lord, expectantly looking for the opportunity to listen and obey. Too often, we get the roles reversed, acting as if we were the master and judge, and God the servant. No wonder there is so little power in our prayers. Trying to get God to bend to our will isn’t the way it works. We have it backward.

Elijah stood before the Lord. He knew who was boss and who wasn’t. Like little Samuel, his attitude was, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.” This approach to prayer is what brings power. Instead of telling God what do do, standing before him, listening and ready to do whatever he asks places us in a position of power like Elijah. We listen, and then do whatever God commands. THAT’s the source of power!

Impatient

 March 23, 2023

Listening for God can be tricky. This morning was another one of those times when I felt dull of hearing, and I think I know why. It’s about deer hunting. A lot of my friends are avid hunters. When we see one another during deer season, the conversation is all about the ones we saw, the tracks and rubs, the shots taken, passed by, or missed. Fact is, I’m not much of a hunter. I’m too impatient. If I’m out in the woods for an hour or two and have seen nothing, I start to get itchy. My friends can sit all day, patiently waiting for that big buck to come by their stand. I start to twitch and squirm. “I have things to do; I can’t sit here any longer.” So I get up and start walking back to my truck. It’s not even noon, and I’m done for the day.

Too often I approach my time with God the same way. If something in the Bible doesn’t jump out at me right away, I start to fidget, my mind wanders, and pretty soon, I’m thinking about what I could be or should be doing instead of sitting quietly, waiting on God. 

I could be forgiven if it were only impatience, but I think it’s more than that. If I’m thinking there’s stuff to be doing that’s more important than paying attention to God, my priorities are really messed up, and my heart is not set on the Lord as it should be. To be honest, it’s lots easier to scroll through Facebook or YouTube than paying attention to God. Boy, do I wish I didn’t have to admit that! Jeremiah 17:9 and Romans 7 are me.

There is however, some redemption in all this. Sometimes—actually, quite often—God speaks when I get up and get busy, especially if that busyness is about ministering to someone else. I wasn’t able to  get much out of the assigned Scripture for the day, but when I worked on my talk for the Footsteps weekend and wrote some letters, Christ’s peace settled upon me. My impatience paved the way for the service through which God spoke quietly to my heart, “This is what I planned for you today.” That’s pretty good, and I’m content tonight.

Checkup

 March 22, 2023

The question is always the same: “How are you doing today?” In normal conversation this would be pretty innocuous, little more than a greeting. But I’ve heard these same words at least three times in the last couple weeks as the nurse is leading me down the hallway to see the doctor. 

“I guess that’s what I’m here to find out,” is my stock answer. If I knew I were doing well, I wouldn’t be walking down a hallway beside a nurse. Fact is, I feel fine, but how we feel isn’t necessarily an accurate measure of how we actually are. There are plenty of stories of people who felt fine just before they keeled over or received bad news from the doctor. Our feelings can be fickle…and fake.

When I listen to those who tell our children that if they feel they’re in the wrong gender body, their feelings are more important than their DNA, I am amazed that people in medicine or psychology buy into such indoctrination. Then I remember our capacity for self-delusion. We humans have an amazing ability to ignore reality, twist facts, and distort evidence in order to come to pre-determined and preferred conclusions. St. Paul says it clearly in the first chapter of Romans.

“For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all impiety and unrighteousness of people, who suppress the truth in unrighteousness, because what can be known about God is evident among them, for God made it clear to them. For from the creation of the world, his invisible attributes, both his eternal power and deity, are discerned clearly, being understood in the things created, so that they are without excuse. For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their reasoning, and their senseless hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools,” Romans 1:18-22 

The key phrase in this text is “who suppress the truth in (or “by”) their unrighteousness. We use our desire to do what we want to drown out the whisper of God’s Spirit in our hearts. We get to the point where we actually believe we are doing fine when in reality, our spirits are on life-support. 

How are you doing today isn’t a query about your feelings, but about reality. The old-timers said it differently: “How is it with your soul?” It’s a question worth asking, but even more, worth answering. But only after dispensing with our feelings and getting that checkup with Dr. Jesus.

Smoke

 March 21, 2023

At least the fire alarm didn’t go off this time. When I loaded the firebox of the wood stove and noticed it was cold inside, I should have known there wasn’t going to be draft enough to draw the smoke up the chimney. I lit my firestarter, put it in place between two pieces of wood, and opened the door just enough to really get a draw going. Then I made the mistake of stepping out of the room for a minute. When I came back, smoke was curling out the door and filling the room. Frantic doesn’t begin to describe my race to the laundry room for the small fan that would blow the smoke and heat back into the stove and up the chimney. Then I opened windows and doors to air the room out, which sort of defeats the purpose of the fire in the first place. But…the fire alarm didn’t go off!

The smell of the smoke apparently defied my attempts to contain it in the back room. I learned this evening that it woke Linda up on the other side of the house. She really didn’t want to get up at 6:00 am.

The last time the stove malfunctioned was when the clean out cap on the bottom of the stack fell off. It does that when it gets filled with creosote. Without the cap, the chimney doesn’t draw at all, and the back room quickly looks like a London fog and smells like last night’s campfire. On this particular occasion, the alarm went off and I had to run outside, slippers in the snow, while I grabbed the cap, ran into the garage to dump it into the trash before dashing back and hammering the cap back in place, alarm blaring all the while. I’m glad we don’t have security cameras; the footage could be incriminatingly embarrassing.

I can’t think of any life lesson from all this, other than it would probably be a good idea if I take my wife’s advice and use a bit more kindling when starting a fire. Acting like a cave man blowing on embers isn’t endearing myself to Linda. She isn’t shy about reminding me that she never intended to marry a Neanderthal any more than she intended to marry a preacher. She got stuck with the one; I better not press my luck with the other. If I listen real close, God’s voice often has overtones of Linda.

Sitting with God

 March 20, 2023

My Scripture reading for today was in Galatians 4. I have no beef with what Paul wrote, but today it just didn’t move me. When that happens, I know it’s not God’s problem; it’s me. As I thought about it, part of the issue this morning is that I didn’t know where my heart was at the moment, other than wishing I hadn’t agreed on meeting my two best friends for breakfast. Monday mornings, along with Friday mornings are the only two days of the week when one or the other of us doesn’t have early morning meetings, so we like to have a leisurely breakfast and lots of conversation. I always would rather be home with Linda. (In case Harry or Ken reads this, it’s nothing against you. We had a great morning together, and I’m glad I joined you for breakfast.)

How is it that this one person has so gotten into my soul that I would rather be with her than anyone else in the world? We see life differently, have personalities so divergent that I used to laugh when couples in crisis would tell me that they were incompatible. In spite of all the things we don’t have in common, if I have a choice, I want to be with her. Why is that? Maybe it’s the “being” part. We don’t have to talk, although she needs talk more than I do. Just being together fills me up. 

I think that’s how it is with God sometimes. I like it when I read something in the Bible that jumps out at me so clearly I know God is speaking, but that doesn’t always happen, and it’s OK. This morning the Lord didn’t speak to me, but I’m OK with that. He just came and sat with me, and he filled my soul and spirit. As Psalm 103 put it, “You fill my mouth with good things so my youth is renewed like the eagle’s.” As we sat together silently, I was filled, and it was good.

Nostalgia

 March 19, 2023

I read an article today that had an intriguing turn of a phrase: “a mysterious nostalgia for the future.” Nostalgia is usually connected to things in our past that we remember wistfully and with longing. Can we be nostalgic for something that hasn’t yet happened or that isn’t yet existent? How can you long for what you can’t see or haven’t known, to look wistfully to what is not yet? 

We can hope for something “out there,” but being nostalgic for it is a different way of thinking, a mindset that I think is very real, and comes from God, for whom time means nothing because he stands outside it. When he told Moses his Name is “I Am,” God was essentially telling him that past, present, and future are all alike to him. We measure time by the spinning of the earth upon its axis, or its journey around the sun, but the God who created all of that and more is not bound by the same linear journey we call life.

We humans dream of heaven because God has placed in us a longing for something we have somehow seen without having experienced it. We haven’t been to heaven, but we are nostalgic for it, dreaming of and hoping for it as strangers upon earth who know we were born for something more. When John the Revelator wrote of streets of gold and pearly gates, he somehow knew this was his real home, the place he longed to see again even though he had not been there before. We long for, are nostalgic for that home promised to those who are faithful to the end by Jesus Christ himself. 

This nostalgia for where we haven’t been is because we are, as St. Paul says, “in Christ,” who was there in eternity past. We long for what we have not, but he has seen. In him, his nostalgia becomes ours. He left that home for this place we call earth so he could take us to his home which is now ours because we are in him. This all sounds pretty ethereal and philosophic, but it is a reality for the Christian. We are in Christ who is home, and places that longing, that nostalgia in us till the day comes when faith shall become sight, and we awake from the dream to discover that what we dreamed is real.

Pray for our Kids

 March 18, 2023

If you follow my musings at all, you know I posted nothing last night. That was because I was at a Christian youth leadership retreat in preparation for the full deal next weekend. That means I didn’t have internet access. Christian camps are not known for their internet service; it’s just not conducive to the ministry they do.

I’m writing tonight to beg (yes, beg) you to pray for our young people. I heard stories of incredible pain from some of these teenagers who are enduring situations I never would have imagined and have never experienced. Obviously, I cannot go into any detail, but know that the pressures they face, the betrayals they have often experienced, and the isolation they feel is heartbreaking. If the few stories I heard are any indication of what is happening in the broader youth culture, our kids are being assaulted from every side. Nonetheless, they are displaying a level of courage and vulnerability that I don’t believe I could muster, all so they might help their friends navigate their life issues.

I am humbled by their strength, even when they don’t feel strong, their faith when they have questions that can’t be answered, and their courage when it would be easier to simply give in and give up. I have a new set of heroes, and they are all still in their teens. Pray for them, thank God for them, and if you get even a whisper of opportunity, just sit and listen, giving your full attention. They need it, and we need them.

A Greatful Heart

 March 16, 2023

Today’s gratitude calendar suggested “three hard eucharistos,” in other words, three gifts from God that may be hard to accept. I’m not going to say much tonight, just enough to give thanks for the challenges. I’m glad to have a few, but also grateful they aren’t life-threatening. I am not living in North Korea, Iran, Kenya, or the Ukraine. My life isn’t threatened by war, starvation, religious or political radicals. That might change someday, but right now, I have it pretty easy.

Today did have a bit of an unexpected turn, however. Last night I had chest pains. I’ve had them before—a dull ache that stretches across the top of my chest if I had been slouching while reading. When I would lie down to sleep, they would come in waves, but standing up and walking around has always taken care of it. 

Last night, Linda was sitting beside me wide awake when it happened. The right side of my jaw and right temple also joined in the fun. Just letting it slide wasn’t an option, so I was told, so I logged into my GP’s portal and ended up with a “suggestion” that I go to the ER for an EEG or whatever they call it when they wire you to a machine. The better part of a day in the ER, and I was sent home with a clean bill of health, but also with instructions to show up next week for a stress test. I think it is nothing more than heartburn. Past experience tells me if I drop between five and ten pounds, all will be well.

So tonight, I am grateful for a wife who loves me enough to insist I get checked out, for the doctors and nurses who did a great job on me, for the technology that showed what was and wasn’t going on inside my body, and for the health I have been given for 73 years. I feel fine, and expect to get a clean bill next week, thanks be to God, who heals me in the name of Jesus Christ. TOnight I have a healthy and grateful heart.

Meals and Laughter

March 15, 2023

“All the days of the afflicted are evil, 

But he who is of a merry heart has a continual feast…

Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, 

Than a fatted calf with hatred.”

—Proverbs 15:15, 17

This morning, Linda and I drove 2 hours to have a pancake breakfast with my brother and sister in law, celebrating her birthday and reminiscing back to when we came to this same pancake house with our folks probably about 15 years ago. Funny how a simple thing like a pancake breakfast stays lodged in the memory. 

We had been home a little over an hour when we took off again, this time to a fundraising dinner for Linda’s home church to enable them to disaffiliate from the denomination. Both times there was laughter, shared concerns, prayers, and love shared. When we got home, I took two of the meals to Linda’s sister and brother in law who are laid up momentarily.

We’ve watched plenty of British manor house mysteries where wealthy people dine, attended by servants, seated beneath crystal chandeliers, but with acidic acrimony in the room and murder in the air. We’ve observed people in restaurants, facing each other with noses buried in their cell phones. I remember a time when we were celebrating Linda’s birthday at the Nickel Inn. We were laughing, telling stories, enjoying each other’s company, when we were made aware of a woman who had come in with her husband/boyfriend (I can’t remember which). He excused himself, went to the bar where another woman was waiting for him, and left, leaving his date with the bill and no transportation home. 

Jesus often sat down to eat with people, even on the eve of his death when he broke bread with his disciples. How different a meal that fills not only the belly, but also the soul. No wonder heaven is portrayed as a great banquet! Whatever will be set before us will pale in comparison to being with the One who set the table and invites us to sit with him. Until then, days like today will have to suffice as a foretaste of that great meal to come where we will sit, laugh and sing, regale one another with the stories of salvation and be truly filled with the glory of God in Jesus Christ.

 

Purified

 March 14, 2023

“Therefore, brethren, having boldness to enter the Holiest by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way which He consecrated for us, through the veil, that is, His flesh, and having a High Priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled (purified) from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.” —Hebrews 10:19-23 

What can we do about the guilt over sins long ago that continually raises its ugly head to haunt us? I can’t speak for anyone else, but every so often, some of the things I did years ago come to mind, riddling me with guilt over what God might have accomplished in me had I been more faithful. This word from Hebrews gives at least a hint as to how to stop going on these guilt trips. 

Jesus’ blood that washes away our sin also purifies our conscience, but only if we draw near with full assurance of faith. It is left to us whether or not we draw near, and we must choose to do so in the full assurance only faith in Christ can give.

If we cling to an evil conscience, letting the sins of the past weigh us down in the present, we are choosing to believe the lie of the devil instead of the Truth of God’s Word.

“Lord, today may we live in the freedom and joy of hearts purified from an evil conscience. Thank you for washing us clean. Let us not pick up and put on the dirty rags of our own righteousness, but instead be clothed by faith the the holy righteousness of Jesus Christ.”

Hammered

 March 13, 2023

“Is not My word like…a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces?” —Jeremiah 23:29 

God is relentless. We like it when he relentlessly pursues us, rescuing us from our sins, strengthening us in our storms, or comforting us in our sorrow, but God is also relentless in refusing to let us off the hook of conviction from his Word. Philippians 1:6 assures us that he will complete the good work he began in us; he won’t leave us hanging somewhere between born again and fully mature. He doesn’t just save us FROM something; he also saves us TO something. Through faith in what Jesus Christ did for us by dying on the cross for our sins, we are saved from the penalty of our sins. But by the power of the Holy Spirit he has placed within us, we are being saved from the power our sins held over us. It is that process of continuing salvation or sanctification that has my attention today.

A few days ago, I wrote about God speaking to me about what might be weighing me down in my life’s race. When I asked him that question, the answer came back loud and clear: “Let go of that item your heart has been lusting over.” Yes, the correct word is “lusting.” Nothing sexual here; just a fixation on something I had my heart set on. I listened in vain for any other word, another item, a different suggestion. The only word that would come to mind was that particular item. I finally gave in. “OK, Lord, I’ll give it up.”

The very next day, I was reading in 1 Kings a story about a man of God who heard clearly from the Lord, but let himself be talked into doing what God had forbidden. God was saying to me, “Jim, I’ve been crystal clear with you, but I know your heart. You’ll figure out a way to wiggle and squirm your way around what I’ve told you. So I’m giving you this Scripture as a warning.” So, in addition to letting go of what I had my heart set on, I knew I had to completely eliminate any possible back door remedies I might be able to dream up.

Did I mention that God is relentless? This morning in my reading, he hammered me. “Be content with what you have.” —Hebrews 13:5

God isn’t satisfied with my obeying in the matter of this particular item. He knows how easily I am tempted by “stuff,” so he levels his axe at the root of my covetousness, ie. my imagining that any of this world’s baubles has the ability to satisfy the soul. I don’t yet know the specifics of what God has in mind, other than he sets before me the example of Jesus Christ who laid aside the glories of heaven to purchase my salvation at the cost of his own blood (Philippians 2:5-8).

God’s Word is the hammer, his will is the anvil, and my will lays between them as the mighty arm of the Lord aims the blows that will shape me into the image of Christ, which image was deformed and defiled by sin, but is being restored, blow by blow. Those blows rain down on me, but I must not flinch, for the work of God in me is as precious as the blood shed for me.

Gone!

 March 12, 2023

George Younce founded and sang bass for the Cathedrals Gospel quartet for 36 years. When in 1999 his long time friend and Cathedrals partner Glen Payne died, the Cathedrals disbanded. George later joined the Gaither Homecoming team where he sang until his death in 2005. At one of his concerts with the Cathedrals, he gave his testimony, sharing how when he served as a paratrooper in the early 50’s, he began smoking marijuana and drinking. He said, “I almost ended up in the gutter because of the bottle. But when I came to the Master, I didn’t come seeking justice. I came seeking mercy. When I asked Jesus into my heart and confessed my sin, he blotted out my yesterdays, never to be remembered again. I remember those days, and I’ll take scars of them to my grave, but I claimed the Word of God that he would remember them no more.”

I listened to that testimony last night, and then this morning, the worship team led us in singing, “Lord, I run into your arms, unashamed because of mercy…” The very first time I heard those words, my granddaughter was singing them, and I was moved to tears at the thought. There are plenty of things in my life that I’m ashamed of; things I hope never come to light. I’m guessing the same is true for most people. There are parts of us we would just as soon stay buried in the past.

Years ago, I saw a Gospel tract that claimed that when we die, we’ll stand before the judgment throne of God, and everything we’ve ever done or even thought will be played for all the world to see before God passes judgment. I’m so glad that isn’t true. God buried my sins in the depths of the sea (Micah 7:19), cast them as far from me as the east is from the west (Ps. 103:12), and remembers them no more (Hebrews 10:17).

The blood of Jesus Christ cleanses from sin, blots it out completely, making it as if it never happened. They are gone! The glory we could never earn or deserve, God freely gave us in Jesus. What we could never hope for has become our confidence and future. Thank you, Jesus for your unfailing and unlimited love!

Settled

 March 11, 2023

One of the more puzzling stories in the Old Testament is found in 1 Kings 13. The kingdom had split in two, with Jeroboam reigning over the northern kingdom of Israel, while Rehoboam ruled over Judah. Being the upstart, Jeroboam was worried that if his people traveled to Jerusalem to worship at the temple, their loyalty to him would weaken, so he built an altar in Bethel and offered sacrifices on it, both of which had been forbidden.

“A man of God” received a word from the LORD to go to Bethel and prophesy against the altar and what Jeroboam was doing. He obeyed, bravely standing up to the king who raised his arm, pointing at the man and commanding him to be seized. He had some sort of seizure in doing so, and couldn’t withdraw his hand. He begged the man of God to restore his hand, and the man prayed. Jeroboam’s hand was just as before, and he invited him to eat at his table, probably hoping to bribe him into becoming one of his lackey priests. The man refused, saying God had instructed him not to stay, not to eat, but to go straight home.

An old prophet heard about this incident, and rode out to find the man of God. Doing so, he invited him to come home for dinner, but the man of God refused until the old prophet told him that God had countermanded his original command. But he lied. To make a long story short, the man of God went home with him and ate at his table, at which time the old prophet told him he had disobeyed and would be judged. The man of God left, but was attacked and killed by a lion, after which the old prophet went, gathered his body and buried it, mourning for his brother prophet. 

It’s a strange story that bothers me. I’ve read commentaries that explain this as a lesson in obedience, but the deceitfulness of the prophet of the Lord still concerns me. I must confess I don’t know what to do with it, but God did speak to me from this story today, maybe just to prove we don’t need to understand everything in God’s Word to benefit from it. I’ve listened more than once to people who tell of the things in the Bible they don’t understand that bother them. Don’t you know there are plenty of things in the Bible I don’t understand, but it’s the things in the Bible I do understand that bother me. This morning was one of those times.

Yesterday I wrote of God telling me to let go of something I wanted to hang onto. I know people who would tell me there’s nothing wrong with having that particular item, and they would be correct except for one fact: God told me to let go. It wouldn’t matter if someone came to me tomorrow and told me God told them it was OK for me. Like that man of God in 1 Kings 13, I know what God said, and listening to God myself is better than a secondhand word any day. The old Bible Club motto still stands: “God said it. I believe it. That settles it.”

Weights

 March 10, 2023

“Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin that so easily entangles us, and run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus…” —Hebrews 12:1-2

I memorized the entirety of these two verses as a teenager, so they aren’t new to me. But God’s Word is ever new, and this morning, these words from those verses hit me in an entirely new way. Exactly what are the weights that hold us back? The imagery is of a runner who strips down to the bare essentials so he can run unhindered by extraneous stuff. Heavy steel-toed boots are entirely appropriate for work in construction, but you wouldn’t want to wear them to compete at a track meet.

In the same way, there are things in life that aren’t wrong in themselves, but become inappropriate if we want to run the race God sets before us. They weigh on us and slow us down in the race of life. This morning as I read these words, I asked the Lord what is weighing me down. I didn’t like his answer. 

You might wonder how I knew it was God speaking to me. No, I didn’t hear a deep bass voice thundering from the sky. There were no spiritual pyrotechnic displays. There are generally two ways I hear God’s voice. The first way usually sounds like Linda. Yep. She is his mouthpiece more than she knows. The second sounds like my voice, but it is something I wouldn’t have thought of myself. Usually, it is something I don’t want to do. That was the case this morning. I was almost afraid to ask because I was pretty sure I knew what he would say to me. And I was right.

When I asked what might be weighing me down, God brought to mind something I’ve had my eye on for some time. There’s nothing wrong with having it. There’s no sin involved. But when I asked that question, this was the only thing that popped into my mind. Try as I might, nothing else surfaced. I asked, God answered, and I knew right away because it was something I didn’t want to do. I had other plans. 

The hard part is actually laying the matter to rest. I have no wiggle room left to me. I can’t say, “Well, maybe if I’m just willing to let go of my plans, that will be enough.” The word was pretty clear. So dear soul, be careful what you say to the Lord. He might just take you up on it. I think I’ll run a little faster now; laying aside that weight enabled me to stand a bit straighter so I can better keep my eye on the goal. When I look, I see Jesus, and seeing him, I’m running a bit lighter and faster. That’s the way it should be.

A Different View

 March 9, 2023

Hebrews 11 invites us to view life differently. The author offers a litany of Old Testament personages who lived not perfectly, but faithfully. If you go back and read their stories, you’ll find men and women who sinned greatly, messed up royally, and fell flat on their faces repeatedly…just like us. Yet these greatly flawed people are held up as examples of great faith, making us wonder what in the world faith really is. I think the key to this entire chapter is found in verses 13-16:

“These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off were assured of them, embraced them and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For those who say such things declare plainly that they seek a homeland. And truly if they had called to mind that country from which they had come out, they would have had opportunity to return. But now they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them.” —Hebrews 11:6, 13-16 

Somehow, these men and women saw life differently. They understood that what they saw all around them wasn’t all there is, and wasn’t even most important in life. They weren’t constrained by the passions and desires of this world; they were released from the ordinary competition, grasping, and backstabbing so common in life…because they had met God. Faith isn’t some pie-in-the-sky wispy dreaming; it is real life, seeing life with a new lens, actively looking for what others can’t see and can’t imagine.

If all I live for is what I can see, faith isn’t required. Faith doesn’t necessarily win. The chapter ends by telling of people who looked for a better world, people who saw themselves as only travelers in this world, and who were beaten, starved, hunted, killed, but who kept looking beyond all that.

Humanly speaking, I don’t see peace in the Ukraine, prosperity in Cuba, hope here in the USA. People I’ve prayed for still sicken and die, but I will continue to swim against the current and look for what I don’t see in this world. This morning while ruminating on these matters, I got a bit sidetracked listening to some Gaither Homecoming videos. One of them featured a man with pretty significant cerebral palsy. Stammering his way through his story, he said, “Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m still in the oven and God’s still in the kitchen. One day, God is going to pull me out of the oven and say, “Well Done!”” He then led the choir in a song I remembered and sang along: “What a day, glorious day that will be!” 

What a day that will be

When my Jesus I shall see

And I look upon his face

The one who saved me by his grace

When he takes me by the hand

And leads me through the Promised Land

What a day, glorious day that will be

There'll be no sorrows there

No more burdens to bear

No more sickness and no more pain

No more parting over there

But forever I will be

With the one who died for me

What a day, glorious day that will be

My Baptist roots go deep into the soil of heaven. In my fifty years of Methodism, I haven’t noticed much talk of heaven from the establishment, but those roots are deep; I am only a pilgrim here. My hope is in Jesus and the home he is preparing for me and for all who dare to see life differently and who keep looking for a “home in the heavens, not made with hands” (2 Corinthians 5:1). 

Our Anchor Holds

March 8, 2023

Psalm 40 begins: 

“I waited patiently for the Lord; 

And He inclined to me, 

And heard my cry. 

He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, 

Out of the miry clay, 

And set my feet upon a rock, 

And established my steps. 

He has put a new song in my mouth— 

Praise to our God; 

Many will see it and fear, 

And will trust in the Lord.”

—vv. 1-3

As I read these words this morning, I remembered that we used to sing a song based on these verses; I Googled them to see if I could find the exact song we sang. I couldn’t find it, but did find one written by Rick Muchow, whom I remember as worship leader and songwriter when I visited Saddleback church in California years ago. Digging a bit deeper, I learned that he had passed away in 2021 from an aggressive brain cancer. 

Although his cancer wasn’t the same as what our son is facing, learning of Muchow’s death was sobering. He was young, talented, devoted to serving God and loving his family…and he was taken all too soon. We aren’t guaranteed long life just because we love Jesus. To the contrary, Jesus himself promised us trials and difficulties in this life, and countless of his followers have died young, the result of persecution. 

Hebrews 10:23 instructs us to “hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.” Holding fast to this profession isn’t always easy; we tend to waver when life throws its curve balls at us, which is why the exhortation needed to be given. In the sixth chapter of Hebrews, we are told to “lay hold of the hope set before us. This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast” (6:18-19). When life’s storms break upon us, if we don’t have an anchor, we will surely be blown upon the rocks. Our anchor doesn’t go down into the depths to grip the sea floor; it reaches to heaven where our hope really lies. 

The Good News is, our anchor holds, and because this anchor holds, we have a new song—praise to our God.

 

Kitchen Grace

March 7, 2023

Occasionally when I read the Bible, my mind is slow, my spirit dull. I believe God is trying to get through to me, but sometimes he has a hard go of it. This morning I read Hebrews 7-10. It’s pretty technical stuff with a lot of good information explaining why Jesus Christ is superior to the old priestly system of ancient Judaism. As much as it challenged my mind, my heart was unmoved. When that happens, it’s often a sign that I need to take a bit different tack.

So as the sun began peeking over the horizon setting the tops of the trees ablaze with light shining on the snow that last night covered the branches, I began to give thanks. Immediately, something inside me sprang to life! I had ceased looking for an experience and had turned my attention to simply look in wonder at the beauty displayed before me; a gift of grace from a loving Heavenly Father.

I checked my Gratitude Calendar to find the suggestion to find three things in the kitchen for which to give thanks. That’s an easy one.

First is Linda. She’s not a thing, but she loves her kitchen! She putters in it like an old man putters in his shop, with one big exception: the results of her puttering are tasty and nutritious, and I get to be the recipient of her skills. If she isn’t concocting something for the palate, she is sitting at the old oak pedestal table studying her Bible, preparing for her women’s Bible study, or writing letters to grandkids, one of our kids, or friends.

Food is the second thing for which I am thankful is the food. Our cupboards are stocked, the refrigerator also. Too many people open their refrigerators to nearly empty shelves; we have the opposite problem: sometimes it won’t all fit in. Not having to wonder where the next meal comes from is a blessing many don’t have, and one we don’t ever want to take for granted.

The third gift of gratitude today is our kitchen table. Some of the best times of the day are those we spend, coffee mugs in hand, just talking. And laughing. And talking some more. Years ago, Nate and Matthew regaled us with stories of their adventures in school which kept us laughing sometimes for hours. Jessie was quieter, but we learned of friends, academics, swimming and track (yes, you heard me correctly!), and musicals. Those were such special times, when Jess graduated and went to college, I told Linda we should have had more kids; we had such a good time raising them. 

Now, it’s just the two of us, back the way we started except older, wiser, and more deeply in love. When we were first married, we thought we knew what love was; we had no idea. But we know now, and it is good. No. It’s more than good; it’s wonderful! Tonight we sat at our table again, talking, laughing, and loving, thanking our God for the grace at our age to still be here, to be mobile, and have most of our wits about us. As for the wits we’ve lost, we really don’t miss them!

 

Wakened by God

 March 6, 2023

Last night in our “Hearing from God” class, we were instructed to be silent for a short time, then to write down whatever single word or short phrase came to mind. The context of this exercise was that we so often jump into prayer requests without ever taking time to listen to what God might be saying in our hearts. So I listened. 

The words that came to me were, “Get Up!” A little backstory is in line here. Prior to this time of silence, we were asked to identify anything that might hinder our hearing from God. We were asked to name one word that came to mind. My word was “consistency.” Contrary to my expectations of retirement, I find myself with at least three mornings each week when I have meetings starting anytime between 6:00 and 9:00 am. My normal rising time is between 6:00 and 6:30, which means that at least on two of these three days, I don’t have time first thing in the morning to sit, read, and pray.  I try to work out at least two mornings each week, and if I can’t do it first thing, it tends not to happen at all.

I make sure I take time with God every day, but when the time jumps all over the clock, it doesn’t feel very consistent. It feels like I’m just squeezing God in whenever it’s convenient. That’s no good. So when I heard the words, “Get Up,” I knew it meant rising earlier than my normal 6:00 am. Last night, I decided to not set my alarm and see what time I woke up—sort of testing whether this word was from God or somewhere within my psyche. This morning, I was wide awake at 5:20! One of the first things I do in the morning is scroll through my emails, eliminating all the fluff at once. Takes less than a minute. All that was left this morning was my Daily Light devotional, which read as follows:

The LORD your God... went before you in the way to seek you out a place to pitch your tents, in fire by night and in the cloud by day, to show you by what way you should go.—Like an eagle that stirs up its nest, that flutters over its young, spreading out its wings, catching them, bearing them on its pinions, the LORD alone guided him.—The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness. (From Deut. 1 & 32, and Zeph. 3:17).

God went before me by night, and stirred up my nest in the morning, establishing my steps so he could rejoice over me with singing. Answered prayer—I wanted to rise early; God worked though the night, woke me up in the morning so I would be able to take the time needed for him to bless me with his Presence. It doesn’t get much better or clearer than that!

Holy Home

March 5, 2023

Way back in the 60’s Jackie Gleason was interviewed about his life. Gleason was no prude, and no stranger to rather colorful language which he used freely in his nightclub appearances. The interviewer noted the difference between these live performances and his work in television, from his work in The Honeymooners and the Jackie Gleason show. Live, his language could be as down and dirty as the worst of them, but in television, it was squeaky clean. Why was this, the interviewer asked.

“On television, I am being invited into people’s homes,” Gleason replied. “I am a guest there, and must act and talk accordingly.” I’ve thought of his response occasionally through the years, especially as the standards of speech and conduct have eroded over time. I remember my grandfather comment back in the 60’s about something he saw on television, commenting that it was “smutty.” That was nearly sixty years ago! I can’t imagine what he would say today, and he wasn’t even a Christian back then. 

People who know Linda and me know how we speak and how we don’t speak. So they know when they come to our house that profanity isn’t part of our lives. So why do we allow people on television to use language and speak innuendoes that we wouldn’t tolerate of real people who sit around our table? Last night, we watched a movie, one that has been highly rated and critically acclaimed. The language was terrible, with the characters dropping the F-bomb seemingly with every other sentence. We were uncomfortable, but watched till the end because the story line was compelling. Then the Lord convicted me overnight about this. As head and spiritual covering of our home, it was my responsibility to be the guard at the gate, and I failed. I allowed something unholy into our home, sullying my wife’s and my purity and holiness. I had to repent before the Lord and apologize to my wife for failing to protect the sanctity of our home. 

Our kids might disagree, but I don’t think we’re particularly prudish. We are fortunate not to have had first hand experience with much of the crude, violent, and debauched depravity of human life. We’ve not had to live through nearly the trauma many have experienced first hand. We are grateful for that. We are not unaware of it, nor of its destructive effect on the human mind and soul. Protecting my home, making it a sanctuary for the thrice-holy God Almighty is serious business and my responsibility. God’s overnight conviction made me aware of how easily I unbolted and un barred the gate to allow evil to penetrate without hardly a whimper of resistance. I am determined it will not happen again. The peace of holiness is far more important than a compelling story line, and God’s story is so much better than anything the world can put together.

 

Hard to Be Thankful

 March 4, 2023

Sometimes it’s good for us to look at life from a different angle if we are to squeeze out of it all God puts into it for our good.

In my thankful calendar, today’s suggestion is to give thanks for three things hard to be thankful for. It got me to thinking.

Linda and I attended two championship basketball games today that would decide which of the local girls’ teams would go on to WNY sectionals. The first of these games was Panama vs. Sherman, long time rivals. Sherman leapt to an healthy lead early in the first quarter, which they maintained for the first half. The game itself isn’t the subject of my comments tonight; it’s the guy who sat behind us. He screamed, yelled at the refs, and spewed forth a constant barrage of insults and comments, none of which were particularly edifying.

It got so bad I was tempted to turn around and tell him to just shut up, but decided I didn’t need to enter my dog into that fight. Then I got to thinking, “I can’t believe he enjoyed the game; it was nearly two hours of constant irritation to him. He can’t be a very happy person.” I actually started feeling sorry for him, not being able to actually enjoy a sport about which he was obviously so passionate. I then gave thanks that I don’t know enough about basketball to get worked up over it. I enjoyed the entire game; that our team won was just icing on the cake, and had we lost, it would not have spoiled my day. Turns out, it was this annoying fan who prompted my gratitude.

During the game, my hearts burn kicked into gear. It’s an occasional affliction that warns me it’s time to lose some weight, kind of like an early warning NORAD system for my body. It’s not pleasant, but it’s also not life-threatening. I am thankful that God’s way of getting my attention regarding my health is heartburn instead of heart attack.

That’s only two “hard to be thankful for” items. I can’t think of a third, which means my life is pretty good right now. I am thankful for that, too. If an annoying fan and a bit of heartburn are my most pressing difficulties, I am indeed, a blessed man tonight.

Into His Presence

 March 3, 2023

Here’s a little secret: Not every time I open the Bible does something jump out at me as a message from the Lord. Lots of times, I read. And read. And read. Nothing. But I keep reading because it is the most sure way of hearing from God. Visions, dreams, oozy-woozy feelings can be fun, but there’s no guarantee any of that is from God.

When my mind is dull or my body weary to the point that I’m not very receptive, I’ve found it helps to begin praising and thanking God for any and everything I can think of. In Psalm 95:2 tells us to come before his presence with thanksgiving. While Psalm 100 reminds us to “Serve the Lord with gladness; Come before His presence with singing. Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, And into His courts with praise. Be thankful to Him, and bless His name.”

(Psalm 100:2, 4)

Whenever we give thanks, we switch the focus of our thoughts from ourselves to God, which is what worship is all about. If all I think about is whether or not I feel God’s presence, I have stepped away from it. We are to come before him with a humble heart, which doesn’t mean thinking less of ourselves, but thinking of ourselves less. 

So tonight even though my reading didn’t yield spiritual nuggets, I praise and thank God. I was able to get out of bed this morning. My mind is working well enough to continue with my Spanish lessons (Gloria a Dios!), and my friend Clark is willing to tutor me. I have the love of my wife, a warm home, peace with God, the assurance of forgiveness, and salvation from my sins through faith in Jesus Christ’s atoning death on the cross. I’m not experiencing some spiritual high, but I don’t need to. My focus is on Jesus Christ who alone is worthy of my praise. That focus takes me into his presence with joy (Hebrews 13:20-21).