The Light of the Son

I went to the beach Saturday and got sunburned.  While this may not surprise you, I was quite startled at the redness revealed on my return, for except for the few steps from our camper to the coast and a short morning swim in the surf, I spent the entire day cowering under an umbrella.  In fact, I constantly repositioned my chair to ensure that all of me stayed in the shade.  And yet, in spite of my best efforts, my skin soaked up lots of sun.

My current discomfort is a constant reminder of the might of our nearest and dearest star.  Its rays are so powerful and intense that their mere reflection makes a major difference, and even those seeking shade end up affected.  I do find it ironic that the very object I worked so hard to avoid was the actual reason I was able to experience and enjoy the day.  The sun provided light so the beach and its beauty could be seen.  Its rays brought welcome warmth which chased away the cloudy sky and the chilly air.  Its energy gave food to the sea grapes, sea oats, and the not-so-native Australian pines I watched in the breeze.  Even though I tried to shun the sun directly, I desired its benefits and blessings, and I could not elude its effects.

The obvious analogy can’t be lost—even in layers of aloe.  The Son is very powerful, all-powerful, actually, and His power gives us life and sustains our very existence.   “In him all things were created..and in him all things hold together”(Col 1:16-17).  He is the light that “shines in the darkness”(John 1:5) and reveals the beauty of the Father and of His creation.  “The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of His being”(Heb 1:3).  It is His energy which works inside of us(Col 1:29).  It is His appearance that chases away the gloom of sin and the chill of death, and it is His light that brightens our way and shows us His path.  “For the sunrise from on high has come to us from heaven, to shine on those living in the darkness and in the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the path of peace(Luke 1:78-79). 

The Son’s light is now shining in the lives of those who are His, “for God who made light shine out of darkness has made his light shine in our hearts”(2 Cor 4:6).  As children of light we are to live reflecting His glory, goodness, and grace, “for the fruit of the light consist in all goodness, righteousness, and truth”(Eph 5:9).  Sadly, many people are a lot like I was on Saturday—wanting to experience and enjoy the Son’s benefits and blessings while avoiding direct contact, and they go to great lengths to stay in the shade.  But they cannot, for the power of God is so prevalent and so potent that all are affected by His light and His might.  For some, His presence is painful because their cold, hard hearts will never receive the warmth of His love, but for others, His light is pleasant and precious and is our only source of joy and hope.   

The Son is forever shining.  Soak in Him, share Him, and don’t get discouraged when those around you seek the shade.  Your reflection of His brightness will affect them even if they’re trying to avoid the light.

Trust me—but don’t touch me—I know. 

 

Choreography Worth Copying

“Follow my example as I follow the example of Christ.” 1 Corinthians 1:11

I spent Saturday evening at a dance recital and was thoroughly entertained and amused.  Besides seeing my own children toe and twirl across the stage (beautifully and gracefully, I might add—without inheriting any such ability from their mother, I must add), my favorite part was watching the preschool and kindergarten students.

Their performances were mostly the same.  More than several small children filed onto the stage, dressed in adorable outfits, smiling, giggling, squinting in the lights, and waving to their moms.  They positioned themselves in two lines, not necessarily described as straight, and waited for the music to start.  When the tune began, so did the routine.  Most of the girls confidently executed the first few measures, but as the song progressed, the dancing regressed, and only a few knew for sure what the next move should be.  The rest resorted to “copy my neighbor” choreography. 

This method works fine as long as the girl beside you gets it right, but if the one you’re imitating is tapping when you should be twirling or skipping when you should be standing still, your entire dance ends up in jumbled disarray.    

Such a performance is cute with little kids but not with big Christians, and yet we sometimes find ourselves unsure of our next move and desperately hoping that the person we’re copying is getting it right.  It’s not wrong to look over or up to those who are faithfully following our Leader.  The Bible is filled with real life examples worth imitating, and quite often the pew behind us and the pulpit up front are full of the same.  How my life has been blessed, guided, and encouraged by men and women who have modeled what it means to love Jesus supremely and to love others unselfishly.  It’s ok to copy; just make sure the ones you’re watching are dancing to God’s rhythm—not a half beat behind or whole step back.

The Apostle Paul, realizing the need and benefit of right-beside-you examples, instructed those he knew to “follow my example as I follow the example of Christ”(1 Cor 1:11), and we should be able to tell others the same.  The dance of life is filled with delights, difficulties, and distractions.  Sometimes the bright lights are blinding.  Sometimes we get too focused on the crowd.  Occasionally we haven’t been listening closely enough to our Instructor, and often we’ve been skipping practice.  We all need the dancers beside us to know the right moves and to make them, and we need to remember that they need the same from us, too.  When we follow Christ together, “copy my neighbor” choreography creates a beautiful recital of His grace and His love, and our lives become a stunning performance of His power, purpose, and plan.

Don’t be scared of the stage.  Listen to the Teacher, stand by those who know the dance, and help each other make the right moves.  That’s choreography worth copying.

 

My Mother

At 11 o’clock today, a friend is burying her mom, and I’ve been thinking about mine.   Probably a good time to do so, since Sunday is officially Mother’s Day, but even if it weren’t, the lady who gave me life and filled it with love should definitely be honored. 

She’s really neat—my mom.  She is talented, patient, caring, and kind.  She is not easily angered—in fact, she’s hardly ever angered, and only seldom frustrated or irritated.  She is diligent, industrious, and rarely rests.   She cooks well, teaches well, listens well, and loves well.  I know this by experience, for I ate three meals a day for twenty years at her table, learned to read and write from her tutelage, spent many hours talking her ears off myself and lots of others seeing her share the concerns of others on the phone, in the living room, even at the grocery store.  (Somehow her face must say, “Tell me your problems,” for countless people have done so and have been helped by her counsel and care.)  My mom has more mercy than her three children combined and is kind to a fault.

My mom could never be a spy because she is a dreadful liar and can hardly bring herself to tell untruths even when they are shrouding a surprise.  (Even then, you can see straight through her duplicity, but such purity of heart is a beautiful thing.)   However, though she was a home economics teacher, then missionary, then amazing mom/church leader/Bible study teacher/best every Friday PTO hot dog server ever, closely watching her speedometer on Sunday mornings would inform you that a career as a race car driver is not totally out of the question—though she has no trail of speeding tickets to back up this premise for what policeman can bring himself to write up such an honest face??

Throughout the decades of my life, my mom has calmed me when I was scared, encouraged me when I was down, cheered for me when I tried and succeeded or tried and failed, helped me with my problems (from personal dilemmas to a soup that’s too salty), and shared the tears of my broken heart.  She always said that my siblings and I belonged to God who had given us to her as a trust, and she would do all she could to support God’s plans for our lives.  This belief was put to the test many times as she watched us board planes, trains, and automobiles to various destinations around the continent and globe on mission trips and other exciting adventures.  Her eyes would fill with tears as she waved goodbye and sparkle with joy when her strong hug heralded our safe return.

Though she is good at many things, my mom is best at loving—loving God, loving our dad, and loving us.  Her real-life relationship with Jesus and her close friendship with Him never left room for me to wonder if all this “God-stuff” might not be true.  My parent’s lives are the authentication of God’s all mighty presence and His power.  She adores my father and has showered him with love and respect for over half a century, and she has selflessly and unconditionally loved her kids.  Heaven only knows the many hours of prayer she has lifted on our behalf, and without a doubt, none of us would be who or where we are today had she not been constantly faithful to God and our family.

Every time I eat fried chicken I think of my mom and how she always took two pieces—the neck and the back.  (Some of you didn’t even know those were parts of the bird for the Colonel does not include them in his 8 or 10 piece buckets, but when you are from the South and you actually cut up and cook the chicken yourself, those pieces end up on the platter—as well as the pulley bone, but that’s for another time!)  When we would vainly attempt to get her to take a more meaty piece, she always replied that those were her favorites, but now that I’m a mom, I know better.  And I know the truth—she really wasn’t lying, for any sacrifice she made to give the best to those she loved the best made even a bony and barely-there cut of meat the one she desired the most.

I realize I am incredibly blessed to have shared so many years and so many wonderful times with my mom.  I know that we will spend forever together in heaven, and for that I am unexplainably grateful, but while we are still here on earth, I plan on making the most of every day—especially this Mother’s Day.  I think we’ll have fried chicken, and I think I’ll be the one who picks out her piece!

I love you, Mother!!  Lots!

 

God Groans

“When we do not know what we ought to pray for, the Spirit intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.”  Romans 8:26

Believe it or not, I’m occasionally at a loss for words.  Some situations are so heavy or heartbreaking that they leave me with lots to think about but nothing to say.  When I’m not sure how to respond, how to help, or how to pray, I cling to the promise that if “we do not know what we ought to pray for…the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God’s will”(Rom 8:26,27).  We can face each moment assured that God’s Spirit knows just what we need and that He is telling our Father all about it.  It also makes me feel better to know that the Holy Spirit doesn’t always use words either, for “the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express”(Rom 8:26).

Sometimes our grief is too raw, our sadness too strong, or our disappointment too sharp to put our feelings into complete phrases, and all we can do is groan, grunt, sigh, or utter a desperate, “Please.”  Know that at the same time, the Spirit is doing the same thing, and that His groans—just as yours—are fully and flawlessly understand.  Take deep comfort and hope in the fact that while your cries contain what you think is best, the Spirit’s consist of what He knows is best, and the Father always answers His requests.

When I lived in Brazil, my friends there who were facing tough times and trying situations would often call out to God with just two words, “Tu sabes,” or in English, “God, You know.”  I love that prayer and have found myself pleading the same over the years.  Knowing that God knows, even—and especially— when I don’t, gives me great encouragement and peace. 

As I write these words, two families I love are sitting by the bedsides of moms with terminal illnesses.   The wait is hard and horrible, as life on earth slowly struggles toward a difficult end. These are the times for “God groans”—those cries to the Father coming from the hearts of His children and from the mind of His Spirit.  “And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit”(Rom 8:27).

Tu sabes.  God, You know.

And we’re so glad—even when we can’t say so.

Bracket Busters

“We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”  Romans 8:28

Today (the day I’m writing) is the last day of April.  Tomorrow (the day you’re reading) is the first day of May, and every year around this time, I think of the very corny but quite clever joke—“If April showers bring May flowers, what do May flowers bring?”  Pilgrims.  (It’s funny.  You know it is.)

However, though these two months are merging, neither is first on my mind.  March is.  March Madness to be specific.  I know the fun-filled basketball tournament has been finished for quite some time, but I just recently removed my bracket from the fridge and am still stinging from my poor, poor showing.  (Let’s just say I’m really glad I didn’t bet any cold, hard cash!)  The problem started when the team I picked to play for the championship lost in the first round.  From that point on, my entire bracket was busted, and there was nothing I could do about it.

That’s poor grammar, but you get the point.  Something happened that wasn’t good, so it seemed that all which followed would be bad.  Life has its share of bracket busters—difficult and distressing situations which seem to snatch the good from our hopes and dreams.  When such circumstances arise, we need to remember that God is bigger than any bracket buster.  In fact, God in His sovereignty never has a bracket busted. He is never surprised at our situation, shocked at our sin, or puzzled by our predicaments.  He is in total control and is actively  engaged for our good.  Though it may seem hard to believe as we stand surrounded by the shattered fragments of our broken hearts, “we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose”(Rom 8:28).

In every situation, any situation, all situations, God is at work bringing good from the bad, granting joy in the junk, building faithfulness through our failure, making sense of our suffering, and providing peace in the unpleasant.  The events of our lives are not random or arbitrary.  We do not live by chance.  Our God has called us on purpose, according to His purpose, and He has divine reasons for all that happens in the lives of those who love Him.

So, the next time you find yourself living through a bracket buster, remember that God is there with you, and He is busy working for your good.

(And by the way, feel free to pass along the joke!) 

The Walking Dead

“The mind controlled by the Spirit is life and peace.”  Romans 8:6

These days, zombies are all the rage.  In books, movies, and tv shows, we are inundated with the imaginary presence of the walking dead.  But zombies aren’t as bogus as you think.  In fact, they’re around us every day, lots of them—people whose hearts and minds have no life.  It might sound morbid, but I quote—“The mind of the sinful man is death, but the mind controlled by the Spirit is life and peace”(Rom 8:6).

Though we know it’s true, digesting this reality is difficult.  It’s hard to consider the fun guy in the office, the nice neighbor down the street, or the quirky lady behind the counter as dead, but if they don’t know Jesus, they’re already in the morgue.  They might be breathing air, but they know nothing of “the life that is truly life”(1 Tim 6:19).

But here’s the good—no, the great—news.  We were once among the zombies, “dead in our trespasses and sins, but God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive in Christ”(Eph 2:1,5), and by His grace, those who believe will also be brought to life.  As we go through our days, we are to be witnesses to the walking dead.  Though they can only be revived by God, He chooses to use us to show them His way out of darkness.

So live like you’re alive!  Since “the mind controlled by the Spirit is life and peace”(Rom 8:3), your existence should exude vitality and radiate divine purpose.  You should trust when others fret, believe when others doubt, and display ceaseless gratitude and grace.  Your “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control”(Gal 5:23) should leave the walking dead wondering “Why?” and “How?” and wanting to know the answer.

You can’t bring zombies to life, but you can show ‘em what real life looks like.                                    

Live fully alive—today!

Used To The View

I spent this past weekend at the beach, and it was lovely.  Sea oats swayed in the breeze.  Palm fronds rustled in the wind.  Grey-skinned dolphins nosed their way down shore while nervous crabs scampered into convenient holes.  All the while, aqua waves ceaselessly coiled onto the white, shelled sand.  In a word, spectacular.

As we stood gawking on the balcony, someone beside me wondered aloud if perhaps the locals grew so used to the view that they failed to always appreciate its beauty, and I answered, “Yes.”  I’m quite sure I was right because of much experience—not with scenes from Gulf front condos, but with stunning sunsets, good times with friends, my husband’s embrace, the laughter of my children, and God’s grace.  All are splendid treasures which should be admired and appreciated with awe, but since these things are commonplace in my life, I often get used to the view and take them for granted.

I think we all do—at different times, in different ways, with different things, and sometimes it takes a change in scenery or circumstance to jolt us into re-awareness of the magnificence around us.  A bomb explodes in Boston, and we hold our families tighter.  A trusted leader falls, and we’re grateful for forgiveness.  Three rainy days in a row make us long for the sun.  And we can hardly believe how easily we take these good gifts for granted.

The Israelites are the classic example.  For forty years they were led around the wilderness by a holy God shrouded in a cloud.  During daytime, the pillar of His presence was white.  At nightfall, it turned bright (with fire, no less).  Surely they could never grow accustomed to something so obvious, so out of place, so extraordinary, but they did. Though God was their night light, their day guide, provided manna every morning, and kept their clothes and shoes from wearing out, the Israelites repeatedly disobeyed, hesitated to trust, and couldn’t keep their hands and hearts away from heathen idols.   Why? Because they grew used to the view of grace.

You probably aren’t at the beach today so maybe the scenery isn’t something to get excited about, but take time to notice the place you are, the people you love, the blessings you’ve received, and the life you’ve been given.  Go ahead and gawk because the scene is spectacular.

When it comes to grace, we should never get used to the view.