Thoughts on being a mother...

I have been thinking this week of mothers in Scripture. Not the ones who are mentioned, but the ones behind the scenes, the ones we don’t really know anything about.  In particular, I was thinking of Daniel and the other Hebrews who were captive in Babylon. We don’t know anything about Daniel’s mother. I wonder who she was and if she was even left alive when he was taken captive. I wonder if she ever understood the big picture of why God allowed her son to be taken away from her and carried to a foreign land to be indoctrinated by an idolatrous nation, or if she became angry at God for taking him. I wonder if she thought of all the things she wished she could have told Daniel if she could have just one more day with him. Scholars suggest he was a very young teenager when he was taken, so I am sure she had not expected for her time with him to be over so early in his life.  It’s not like he was just away at college or on a trip. He wasn’t coming home, and he probably had no means of communicating with her that he was okay.  We know from Scripture that he purposed in his heart not to defile himself – and he didn’t. What kind of home did Daniel come from?  How much of Daniel’s character was shaped by his mother? From whom did he get his values?  How can I instill those same values in my children?

John wrote, “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth.” Paul reminded Timothy that his faith first dwelt in his mother and grandmother. Deep down, I hope to live long enough to watch my children grow up and serve the Lord, but I realize too that I don’t have any guarantees. God never promised that I would always have my children or that they would always have me. I have probably already had more time with my boys than Daniel’s mom had.  It is a very sobering thought – if I were to die today, what legacy of faith have I instilled in them that will carry them through life? Do they love God’s Word? Do they understand grace? Do they know the difference between religion and a relationship with Christ? Do they know that serving God with their life is more important than making money? Could they stand strong in their faith against opposition like Daniel did?

The person who did that for me in my life was not my biological mother, but a dear woman who was unable to have any children. She taught me to cook and play the piano, but more importantly, she taught me to study God’s Word and that I should “never sacrifice the eternal on the altar of the immediate.” To this day, I call her Mom, and she calls me her daughter.  Not every woman reading this has children, or perhaps your children are grown. You still have a legacy of faith that you can pass on to the next generation.  ­­­In fact, Paul told Titus that the older women in the church were to encourage the younger women and teach them how to live righteously.  This month as we focus on mothers, take pride in the fact that you have a chance to be a mother – if not biologically, then spiritually. We have a legacy of faith that is worth passing on. 

“…After all our hopes and dreams have come and gone
And our children sift through all we've left behind
May the clues that they discover and the memories they uncover
Become the light that leads them to the road we each must find.

Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful
May the fire of our devotion light their way
May the footprints that we leave
Lead them to believe
And the lives we live inspire them to obey.
Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful..”  (“Find Us Faithful” by Steve Green)

Ever Nearer...

Jesus Draw Me Ever Nearer

"Jesus Draw Me Ever Nearer"
Music by Keith Getty; Words by Margaret Becker
Copyright © 2002 Thankyou Music

Jesus, draw me ever nearer
As I labour through the storm.
You have called me to this passage,
and I'll follow, though I'm worn.

May this journey bring a blessing,
May I rise on wings of faith;
And at the end of my heart's testing,
With Your likeness let me wake.

Jesus, guide me through the tempest;
Keep my spirit staid and sure.
When the midnight meets the morning,
Let me love You even more.

Let the treasures of the trial                                 
Form within me as I go -
And at the end of this long passage,
Let me leave them at Your throne.

I love this song. (If you want to hear it, you should be able to click on the link at the very top, and it will take you to a youtube video of the song.) I was thinking through the words of this song this week as I am struggling through what I consider to be an almost insurmountable storm – there is just no other word for it. And this trial, this storm has been going on for years now, and I am so weary of it.  The first verse of this song says, “Jesus, draw me ever nearer as I labour through the storm. You have called me to this passage, and I’ll follow, though I’m worn.”  There is a comfort in knowing that this storm didn’t take God by surprise. He knew it would come and He has ordered my steps through it all.  I know that He has a plan for me. He says in Jeremiah 29:11 that His plans are for “welfare and not for calamity, to give me a future and a hope.”  Even though my heart is so weary, I will keep following Him.

“May this journey bring a blessing…” I never thought once as this whole ordeal began that any good could ever come from any of it. In the last year or so, however, I have begun to see just a few glimpses of the blessings.  I am surrounded by amazing people who love and support me and have held my hand through some dark days. I never would have met them if my journey had not uprooted me. I am in a place that I love, in a position of ministry that I love. God is restoring to me all of the things that were taken from me, and then some!  It is a marvel to me the blessings He has poured on me over the last few years.  There is another blessing I did not expect – the blessing my journey could be to others.  Last year, I received a message that I treasure from a friend with whom I had not been in touch for probably 20 years or so.  She was watching my journey from afar, and after a particularly trying storm, I had sent out an email to those who had been praying.  It was forwarded around by different ones until even I don’t know who all had received it. My friend’s message was long, and I won’t share all of it, but this one part: “I don't know if you realize what an amazing gift you gave to everyone who will ever read that. You gave us permission to trust a God that we don't always understand. You were the best person to give that gift and the most unlikely. (Thank you. It was a gift to me personally.)”  She went on to share personally what God was teaching her, and that blew my mind. God used me? He used me to encourage someone? I received several more similar messages over the weeks following that incident, and even more recently after I began the blog.  It’s crazy how we think sometimes that we are all alone in our hurt, in our pain, our weaknesses, our storms.  It takes one person to speak up and say, “This is my story, and this is what my God did!" to make us step back and go, "Wow! If He could do that in her life, He can do the same for me!" I know, because that is where I have found encouragement myself – in the lives of those who have walked roads I can not imagine, but found the strength and the courage to follow anyway. Those people reveal hearts that I want to have, an intimacy with God that I crave, a peace that allows them to continue on in spite of the circumstance. And I am learning that it is the storms in their lives that have brought them to that point. I am thankful for the blessing that they are in my life. I pray that truly, my journey will be a blessing to someone else.

“At the end of my heart’s testing, with Your likeness let me wake.” There was something I had heard before, but never understood. The Bible talks about our faith being refined by fire like silver and gold. They are heated until the impurities rise to the surface. Those impurities are removed, and then they are heated again and again. That is how you get pure silver or pure gold. A silversmith knows his silver is ready when he can see his reflection in the silver. I had heard that…and it sounded nice…but now I have lived that. I know what it is to be in the refiner’s fire. To have a situation reveal an area of my life that must be removed, dealt with. Then to go through the process over and over. I know I am not done yet, but at the end of all of this testing, my heart’s prayer is that Christ will see His likeness in me.  After all that’s what Romans 8 says – God wants to conform us to the image of His Son. So all of the things that happen to me, happen to bring me closer to Him and make me more like Him. When I keep this perspective, I can be grateful for the fire.

“Let the treasures of the trial form within me as I go – and at the end of this long passage, let me leave them at Your throne.” Treasures of the trial. That seems almost oxymoronic.  How can there be treasures in the trial? But I am learning that those lessons learned, those hard-fought battles won, those glimpses of God’s grace, those intimate moments with God that are mine alone and no one else will probably ever understand the significance of – that I never would have known without the trial – those are forming within me a faith that is unshakeable, a peace that is unbreakable, and a joy that no one can take from me. Those are treasures. And someday, I will lay all of that down at the feet of my Lord because He is the One who gave them to me. This journey is all about Him.

“Jesus, Draw me ever nearer…” This is my prayer. I want to be closer to Him today than I was a year ago. A month from now, I want to be even closer. A year from then, even closer.  Without the storm, I took Him for granted. I didn’t need Him, or at least, I didn’t know how much I needed Him.  Thank You, Lord, for this storm. “When the midnight meets the morning, Let me love You even more…”

Help! I've fallen....and I Can't Get Up!

I think it’s a pretty safe bet that if I had told you to finish this line, “Help, I’ve fallen, and I                                              !” that you would have been able to fill in the blanks – “Can’t get up.”  I don’t know anyone who has actually bought a life alert necklace, but we’ve made fun of the commercial for years, used it in skits, quoted it when we’ve fallen ourselves.  I thought of it this week from a new perspective.  It came to my mind as I was thinking about Christ and His ministry on earth. I thought of all the people He encountered who could not “get up” by themselves.  Sometimes it was a physical condition like the man by the pool of Bethesda who was lame. Others had actually died – Jairus’ daughter, the son of the widow of Nain, Lazarus. Then there are others who “fell” spiritually – the woman caught in adultery and thrown at Jesus’ feet, Peter losing faith as he walked on water…and later as he denied that he even knew who Christ was.   Some of them went looking for Christ (like Jairus), others He simply encountered (the widow in Nain) as He traveled.  The adulterous woman didn’t have any choice- she was thrown at His feet as her captors picked up stones with which to kill her.  Their stories are all so different, and yet there is one common thread – Christ raised them up when they were unable to do anything for themselves.  One after another, as you read through the Gospels, you encounter person after person after person who needed Christ to lift them up. What’s amazing to me is how compassionately He did it. He never complained, never said, “Again? Really???” We read no accounts of His begrudging healing, or forgiveness with a dash of condemnation.  I think it is the ones who had fallen spiritually that give me the most encouragement.  For the Lord of Creation to heal His creation is somewhat natural.  To me, that makes sense.  For a holy, righteous Judge to forgive sin makes no sense.  He could have picked up a stone and joined in the public condemnation of the adulterer.  He could have let Peter sink…or conveniently overlooked him after the Resurrection. I probably would have said something sarcastic like, “I thought you didn’t know me.”  He could have let the Samaritan woman get her water at the well…and let her know who He was while watching her squirm with guilt and shame.  But He didn’t.  And that is grace. It makes no sense, but that is the record we have of Him.  I think, of all of them, the one I identify most with is that woman at His feet.  I know I’ve failed Him. I know I have no excuses and nowhere to hide before Him.  I see others circling with their stones of judgment, ready to slap a label on me and carry out the punishment they feel I deserve for my failures. But then I look to Him, and He says, “Neither do I condemn you, go and sin no more.” The thought is staggering.  I identify with Peter too. How ashamed he must have felt!  You know what? There are times when I’ve failed Him so badly that I’m not even sure how to pray, how to tell Him all that is in my heart. But you know what else? I think that there is a prayer that He will not refuse – “Help. I’ve fallen…and I can’t get up!”  I think that perhaps this is His favorite prayer. His power is revealed in our weakness. His amazing grace is best revealed when our absolute depravity is obvious.  You know, when you boil it down, the fancy sinner’s prayers we quote during soulwinning or invitations, are basically that thought.  Isn’t that what the salvation decision is? Realizing that we are sinful and have no righteousness of our own and are unable to save ourselves? It’s not about the exact words we pray – the thief on the cross only said, “Lord, remember me when You come into your kingdom.” But Jesus said, “Today you will be with me...” He lifted that man up too. He wasn’t baptized. He didn’t go to Sunday School. He didn’t go to the “right”Christian college and carry the “right” version of the Bible.  He just looked to Christ in His final hours acknowledging that he had no hope apart from Him. He had fallen and couldn’t get up. Even as He died on the cross for our sins, Christ was ready for Him.  And He is ready and waiting to reach down and pick us up. In the Life Alert commercials, the woman who pushes the button and calls for help must lie there hoping that help will come quickly. We don’t have to wonder if He will come to save – there’s no question, no “I hope…”  He will save. He will forgive. He will heal. It is His character.  What a comfort that is!  Have you fallen? Have you let Him lift you up?   

A Quiet Heart

The entire following entry is taken from the book Keep a Quiet Heart by Elisabeth Elliot.  I first read it when my heart desperately needed to be quieted, and I’ve gone back and re-read it several times.  To try to say any better what she has already said so well would be an exercise in futility, so I’ll leave it alone. I hope it encourages you…

Jesus slept on a pillow in the midst of a raging storm. How could He?  The terrified disciples, sure that the next wave would send them straight to the bottom, shook Him awake with rebuke. How could He be so careless of their fate?
He could because He slept in the calm assurance that His Father was in control. His was a quiet heart. We see Him move serenely through all the events of His life — when He was reviled, He did not revile in return. When He knew that He would suffer many things and be killed in Jerusalem, He never deviated from His course. He had set His face like flint. He sat at supper with one who would deny Him and another who would betray Him, yet He was able to eat with them, willing even to wash their feet. Jesus in the unbroken intimacy of His Father’s love, kept a quiet heart.
None of us possesses a heart so perfectly at rest, for none lives in such divine unity, but we can learn a little more each day of what Jesus knew…Jesus, because His will was one with His Father’s, could be free from care. He had the blessed assurance of knowing that His Father would do the caring, would be attentive to His Son’s need….He knew when to take action and when to leave things to His Father. He taught us to work and watch but never to worry, to do gladly whatever we are given to do, and to leave all else with God.
Purity of heart…is to will one thing. The Son willed only one thing: the will of His Father….One whose aim is as pure as that can have a completely quiet heart, knowing what the psalmist knew, “Lord, You have assigned me my portion and my cup, and have made my lot secure.” (Ps. 16:5)…Can we say that there are things which happen to us which do not belong to our lovingly assigned “portion”? Are some things, then, out of the control of the Almighty?
Every assignment is measured and controlled for my eternal good. As I accept the given portion other options are cancelled. Decisions become much easier, directions clearer, and hence my heart becomes inexpressibly quieter.
…
A quiet heart is content with what God gives. It is enough. All is grace…
…all is under my Father’s control: yes, recalcitrant computers, faulty transmissions, drawbridges which happen to be up when one is in a hurry. My portion. My cup. My lot is secure. my heart can be at peace. My Father is in charge. How simple!
My assignment entails my willing acceptance of my portion–in matters far beyond comparison with the trivialities just mentioned, such as the death of a precious baby… We can only know that Eternal Love is wiser than we, and we bow in adoration of that loving wisdom.
Response is what matters. (Remember the Israelites…all experienced the same, But God was not pleased with most of them. Their response was all wrong.)  The same almighty God apportioned their experience. All events serve His will. Some responded in faith. Most did not.
“No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.” (1 Cor 10:13)
Think of that promise and keep a quiet heart! Our enemy delights in disquieting us. Our Savior and Helper delights in quieting us. “As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you” is His promise. (Is. 66:13)  The choice is ours. It depends on our willingness to see everything in God, receive all from His hand, accept with gratitude just the portion and the cup He offers. Shall I charge Him with a mistake in His measurements or with misjudging the sphere in which I can best learn to trust Him?  Has He misplaced me?  Is He ignorant of things or people which, in my view, hinder my doing His will?
God came down and lived in this same world as a man. He showed us how to live in this world, subject to its vicissitudes and necessities, that we might be changed — not into an angel or storybook princess, not wafted into another world, but changed into saints in this world. The secret is Christ in me, not me in a different set of circumstances.

He whose heart is kind beyond all measure
Gives unto each day what He deems best,
Lovingly its part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and rest.

"Let it Grow"

I took my boys to see The Lorax last week. There’s an old-timey theatre in Kannapolis that we like to go to. I appreciate the history of the building, but I appreciate their low ticket prices even more! (It only cost $10 for all three of us!) The Lorax is based on a book by Dr. Seuss with the same name, and the plot is basically about a world where all of the trees have been cut down to make way for progress. There is a character, however, who is in possession of the very last tree seed – and he entrusts it to a little boy who is determined to plant it in the middle of town so everyone can see it. Of course, there is a “villain” who is making money by selling clean air and stands to lose everything if there are trees producing clean air for free.  The climax of the movie takes place in the center of town as he and the boy face off with everyone watching to determine the fate of this seed…and a musical number begins called “Let it Grow.”  It includes various townspeople singing about why they should let it grow – from 3 year old Marie to Granny Norma to Ben and Rose whose “son Wesley kinda glows.” The song stuck with us because there’s a verse where the villain, Mr. O’Hare sings, but changes the words to “Let it die.” My boys thought that was hilarious, you-tubed the video, and recorded it to my phone as a ringtone! There was one phrase, however, from the song that jumped out at me, and I have been thinking about it all week long. 

Disclaimer: If at this point you are tempted to stop reading because you think this will be the rantings of a crazy tree-hugger or a post about saving trees, let me reassure you that I do have a spiritual thought unrelated to environmentalism!

The phrase is this, “Let it grow, let it grow, you can’t reap what you don’t sow…”  What caught my attention is that these are Bible words…well, almost. Let me put it in context: The Bible says that whatever a man sows, that will he also reap.  If we sow to the flesh, we reap corruption. The admonition is to sow to the spirit. (see Galatians 6:7,8) I have heard my fair share of sermons and messages and devotionals about sowing and reaping, but I’ve never heard it reworded in the negative. Yes, it is true that you reap what you sow, but it is also true that you CAN’T reap what you DON’T sow. (This is bringing back memories of Mrs. Jone’s geometry class and rules about p’s and q’s and whether or not p implies q… but that’s beside the point. )   Like I said, this phrase has been stuck in my head this week, and ironically, the Holy Spirit has used it to really make a point to me about growing in Christ.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I look at the fruits of the spirit – or even spiritual qualities I see in the lives of others – and I really wish those fruits were more evident in my life. Maybe it’s a closer intimacy with Christ, a better prayer life, a more disciplined quiet time…sometimes it’s just something as “simple” as love, joy and peace. The thought struck me last week, if those are the fruits I want to “reap,” what am I doing to cultivate those in my life?  This reminded me also of the parable of the sower and the different kinds of soil.  Usually when we hear messages about this, we picture four different kinds of people and whether or not they receive God’s Word leading to salvation, but the truth is, sometimes my heart is all of those types of soil at one time or another.   I’ll be honest, Sunday morning during church, I struggled with having thorns and weeds in my soil. The message was good, but I was having so much trouble concentrating because of all of the other thoughts that kept entering my heart and competing for my attention!  Sometimes I’ve hardened my heart in an area, and until I’m broken, any messages or passages of Scripture about that area fall on deaf ears. There have been times when I have been so “dry” spiritually that things just kind of stay on the surface – like the stony ground – the Word of God didn’t even get a chance to really take root and ends up withering before it can produce any fruit in my life.  What am I doing to make sure that seeds can take root in good soil and grow and produce fruit in my life? I can’t reap what I don’t sow. What kinds of seeds am I sowing in my life? The Word of God? Worldly thoughts and philosophies? My own selfish desires? Am I letting anything else take root in my heart?  What am I doing to keep the soil prepared and fertile?  There’s a verse in Psalms that has always kind of fascinated me. Psalm 86:11 says, “Teach me Your way, O Lord; I will walk in Your  truth; Unite my heart to fear your name.”  The idea of uniting something we think of as being singular in nature is what is so remarkable to me, but David is right on. My heart is so divided sometimes. God, take this mess of soil that is my heart – the stony areas, the hard areas, the weedy areas – and unite it all. Make it all fertile ground that is capable of producing fruit. Plant those seeds in my life and help me to nurture them so that they can grow.

"The Servant Song"

I found a new hymn today, and I LOVE it! I just had to share it with you…

Background information:  Our regular pianist is going to be out of town on March 25th…and so is the organist…which means the back-up pianist needs to play the organ…which leaves me at the piano. Yes, I AM the bottom of the barrel! J That is fine with me – I’m much more comfortable in the orchestra than on the piano bench.  Yesterday, the interim music director asked if I would consider playing the piano that day for the service. After a small panic attack, and an initial, “Can’t you used canned music that day?” I felt a small bit of conviction that serving the Lord isn’t about being the best or having the most ability; it’s about being willing to be used. I apologized to the director, and told him I would do it…

Okay, now that  my heart’s in the right place, what about the songs? I haven’t been practicing on a regular basis, so the last time I was playing hymns regularly for people to sing along was when I played for Christian school chapel. That was almost 6 years ago!  At this point, anything really complicated or fast is way outside my comfort zone.  The music director told me to go through the hymnal and see what I felt comfortable playing . I did that last night. I skipped the sections of Christmas songs, Resurrection songs, Lord’s Supper songs, Patriotic songs, etc. and came up with a list of about 30 or so hymns and choruses that I could sit down and play now if I had to.  The church secretary and I crossed out any that had been done recently, and this knocked a few off the list. Then I found out what the message was going to be about that day – we’re going through 1 John, and the message at this point is going to be from chapter 3 about hating/loving one another.  That complicates things a wee bit… because most songs are about our love for God or His love for us and not so much about our love for each other…There are a few, but really, you can’t sing “We Are One in the Bond of Love” for an entire service. So back, to the hymnal I went, and I stumbled across a song I had never heard of before and I almost skipped over it because the title was “The Servant Song.” But it is written in fairly easy timing with an easy key signature, so I thought I’d play through it… Tadaaa! It turns out it’s a melody I love.  It’s also the melody for “Come, All Christians, Be Committed” and some of the more recent versions of “Come, Ye Sinners, Poor and Needy”  (It’s an old Shaker melody called Beech Spring used in Ken Burns Lewis and Clark documentary if you want to youtube it. J)

 But you HAVE to read the words! I can’t believe we don’t sing this song!

The Servant Song

We are trav’lers on a journey, fellow pilgrims on the road;

We are here to help each other walk the mile and bear the load.

I will hold the Christ-light for you in the night-time of your fear;

I will hold my hand out to you, speak the peace you long to hear.

Sister, let me be your servant, let me be as Christ to you;

Pray that I may have the grace to let you be my servant too.

Brother, let me be your servant, let me be as Christ to you;

Pray that I may have the grace to let you be my servant too.

I will weep when you are weeping, when you laugh, I’ll laugh with you;

I will share your joy and sorrow, til we’ve seen this journey through.

When we sing to God in heaven, We shall find such harmony,

Born of all we’ve known together of Christ’s love and agony.

What a beautiful words and so meaningful to me!  A few weeks ago in my small group Bible study, I shared my “story” – a general overview of my life and testimony – and I made a comment that when I first came to the church that I am in now, I needed a sort of “spiritual rehab.” They all laughed over that comment, but it is so true. I couldn’t think of another way to say what I meant.  Like someone who has been in a traumatic accident and has been injured severely, spiritually, I needed people to come alongside me and teach me how to “walk” again. I look back now, and am so thankful for those “servants” who held their hand out to me, spoke the peace I longed to hear, for the ones who shared my sorrow, and helped me bear a load that I felt was impossible. I marvel now at their patience, because I am sure it felt quite unrewarding to them at the time, and yet they persisted. They truly have been “as Christ” to me.  I’m a little stronger now…and I want to be that person for others. I want to be the servant now. I know what a difference it made for me, and I want to make that difference in someone else’s life. 

I don’t know that we’ll sing this song on the Sunday that I play – it’s usually not a good idea to spring unfamiliar hymns on the congregation on a Sunday morning – especially when you’re being led by an interim director, a back-up organist, and a bottom-of-the-barrel pianist!  But it’s okay if we don’t sing it that day. I found it…and now you’ve read it too…and maybe soon we’ll learn it and start singing it…

Coffee, Anyone?

There’s an illustration I read about ten years ago, and it came across my e-mail again this week. It’s entitled, “CARROTS, EGGS & COFFEE.”  The story is about a young woman who is having a rough time, and tells her mother how hard things are, how she doesn’t know how she can make it and wants to give up, etc…  Everytime it seemed like she got one problem solved, a new one took its place.  The mother goes into the kitchen and sets three pots with water to boil.  In the first pot, she places raw carrots, in the second pot, raw eggs, and in the last, ground coffee beans.  She lets them boil and doesn’t say anything.  About twenty minutes later, she turns off the burners.  She strains the carrots and puts them in a bowl. She places the eggs in a second bowl. She ladles out some of the coffee and places it in a third bowl.  Then the mother asks her daughter what she sees.  “Carrots, eggs, and coffee.” (She was probably thinking, “DUH!” but according to the story, she doesn’t say that!)  Her mother brings her closer and asks her to feel the carrots. They are now soft.  She asks her daughter to break the egg, and the daughter observes that it is now hard-boiled.  Finally, she asks her to taste the coffee.  She comments on its rich aroma, but then asks what is the meaning of it all.  The mother asks in response, “Which are you? When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?”  The point is this: Which one am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity wilts, becomes soft, and loses strength? Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a break up, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff?  Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart? Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain.  When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor.  If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. 

There’s a similar illustration that Jim Berg uses. I heard it first at a retreat where he was a guest speaker, but it’s also in his book, Changed into His Image. His illustration is of a tea bag in hot water, and his point is that, it is not the water that changes the flavor of the tea. It merely reveals what was already in the tea bag.  If you are a hot tea drinker, you know that there are all sorts of blends and varieties of teas.  Looking at the bags, you can’t always tell the difference, but it is the hot water that reveals what was already in the bag.  So many times we want to blame our sinful actions on our circumstances.  As if going through a hard time gives us a right to say or act in a way that we claim is uncharacteristic of us.  But we know that our hearts are deceitful above all things and desperately wicked.  When those wrong words, those wrong actions come out, is it the circumstance that caused them? Or is the circumstance, the “hot water” we are in, only revealing what was already in our heart? I don’t like the answer to that one.  In Mark 7, Jesus was questioned by the Pharisees about his disciples not washing their hands, and he replies, “there is nothing outside the man which can defile him if it goes into him; but the things which proceed out of the man are what defile the man.”  Later, when they are alone, his disciples ask about what He meant. He explains to them, “That which proceeds out of the man, that is what defiles the man.  For from within, out of the heart of men, proceed the evil thoughts, fornications, thefts, murders, adulteries, deeds of coveting and wickedness, as well as deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride and foolishness. All these evil things proceed from within and defile the man.”  I must constantly be striving to keep my heart pure before God so that when hot water does come - and it always does - then what comes out will leave a pleasant taste for those who are around.

There are different times in my life when I have been the carrots and looked strong, but lost my strength. I know that there are times when I allowed my heart to become like the egg, and even though I looked the same on the outside, inside I was hard.  I want to be like the coffee bean (or the tea bag) and influence my surroundings. But more than just changing the surroundings, I want it to be a sweet and lovely flavor/fragrance.  I don’t want to just color the hot water, I want to make it better! And I want it to be something others can look at, and benefit from, and say “Wow! Look what God did through her!”

I was thinking of all of these things this morning as I drove back to work from a court date in another county. Another setback. Another disappointment. Another “pot of hot water.”  Another time to face those I struggle to forgive. The tears were flowing down my cheeks as I drove, and even for the first few minutes when I was back in my office.  It would be so easy to give in to self-pity, hatred, or bitterness. But I want to be different. I resolve that I will be different. 

James said to "count it all joy" when we face trials of different kinds because it produces patience in our lives.  Today, I am thankful for the hot water...for the trials that show me what I truly am and how far I still have to go to be like my Lord.

Vines and Branches

I looked up this passage today because it has been coming across my mind lately. A friend mentioned it as he talked about pruning back some bushes in his yard. My pastor mentioned it Sunday morning in his message. Another friend was talking about grafting vines last night. I've read it many times, but I wanted to go back and re-read the whole passage and really look at it.

"I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit...Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in Me. I am the vine, you are the brances; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me, you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in Me, he is thrown away as a branch and dries up; and they gather them, and cast them into the fire and they are burned. If you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you..." John 15:1-7

The phrase that keeps crossing my mind is this: "apart from Me you can do nothing." I wrote about forgiveness and my battle to forgive someone who has wronged me deeply. The struggle is daily, as sometimes that is as often as the hurts come. I wish this had just been just one wrong in the past that I could forgive and move past, but it is not.  Just yesterday, I got an e-mail and follow-up phone call informing me of a new hurt. How can a wound heal that is constantly re-opened? I suppose it is a sign that I have at least grown a little that I immediately took it to God in prayer. But then it woke me up early this morning, and I wrestled with it again...and again...and again. So back to God I go, "God, I can't do this. I want to obey You. I know this is what You want. Give me Your heart for this person..." and it was then that this phrase - these verses came to my mind. "Apart from Me you can do nothing."  It was almost as if God was answering back, "I know you can't do this...but here is what you can do - abide in Me." This fruit of the Spirit - this unconditional love that forgives and forgives and forgives - if I want it to bloom in my life, I must abide in Christ! 

There is a tree outside my office that sheds branches like no tree I have ever seen.  It seems every morning, there are more branches on the ground. It's not a fruit tree, but still, as I walked in this morning, I looked at those dead branches on the ground, and thought about this passage. What good are dead branches? None at all! Jesus compared them to someone who does not abide in Him - they dry up and are gathered and burned up. And how foolish it would be for a branch lying on the ground to think it can produce even leaves, much less fruit! It has no nutrients, no support system, nothing! I wonder if sometimes I don't start to cut myself off - I'm running late and don't spend time with the Lord...I mean to do it later, but then get busy...and then I start to dry out. I'm not abiding in the Vine. I like the last verse - "if you abide in Me, and My words abide in you..." If I want to see this fruit in my life, I can not afford to let anything separate me from my Vine. That word abide - we don't really use it much anymore - but we say sometimes "our abode" referring to our home. Abiding in Christ isn't something I can do just for a few minutes every day or so. It's a constant state of living in Him - and part of that is letting His words live in me.  If I do those things, He says, "ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you." I know this isn't some genie-in-a-bottle kind of magic promise. But if I am abiding in Him, and His words are abiding in me, my desires are going to be His desires, and He can accomplish them through me.
Right now I am hurting again, and I am clinging to my Vine. I can't produce this fruit in my life, but He can. I want His love to flow through me.

Fetullah's "Revenge"

I don’t know Fetullah. I’m not even sure if I’m spelling her name right. I only heard about her yesterday. I won’t ever meet her in this life, although I believe she will be in Heaven.  Fetullah lives in Somalia. I heard about her from a missionary named Getanah. He’s from Ethiopia.  He himself was hung upside down and tortured with hot oil because he is a Christian sharing Christ in a Muslim world.  He shared Fetullah’s story as he shared of the struggles believers face in some of the various nations of Africa.  Fetullah was married with three boys.  The soldiers threatened her husband and said they would be back the next day.  He fled to another city. Fetullah and the boys stayed behind. When they came for her husband, they asked the boys where he was. When one of the boys said his dad had gone away, they began to kill the boys.  One of the boys escaped into the bush, but saw the execution of both of his brothers.  Fetullah shared with Getanah her story, and she asked him to pray for her revenge. He asked her what she meant by “revenge” – she explained that if these men would come to know the Lord, then one day, they could be in Heaven, and they could dance with her boys whose lives they had taken. That would be her “revenge.” WOW. Not my idea of revenge at all.  I have two boys. They have not been brutally murdered in front of me. But there are aspects of my life where I feel I have been robbed of the life that I had planned with them. My gut reaction is not to want to see the culprits in Heaven. I don’t want to reach out as a conduit of God’s grace to them.  Deep down, I want a different kind of revenge.  I would never say that out loud to anyone at church, of course, because I know that “vengeance is mine, saith the Lord” and you know, it just doesn’t really sound very spiritual.   Well, until yesterday. When I heard Fetullah’s story in the morning…and then I heard story after story of people who not only forgave their persecutors, but began to pray for their salvation. What has been taken from me pales in comparison to the losses they have suffered, and yet they forgive. Christ forgave – from the cross, He forgave those crucifying Him.  And then I heard the story I shared in the last blog – the thieves who wanted Christ, but not the cross.  That thought was so convicting to me.  It struck me almost immediately, that I want to be forgiven by Christ, but I don’t want to forgive…one person in particular.  I don’t feel he deserves it. 

That was yesterday.

As God often does, guess what the sermon was about this morning? Yep, forgiveness. And I wrestled with the message. I didn’t play during the invitation. I didn’t sing either. The song, was “I Surrender All,” and I sure couldn’t say that. No, I struggled…enough to have to step out of the sanctuary and calm down. I know what I should do…but I just kept coming back to…”but he doesn’t deserve it!”

That brings us to tonight. No church service, just a small group meeting in my pastor’s home. All of the previous times we’ve had these meetings, we watched a video and discussed it, so that is what I expected tonight as well. But this evening, we weren’t set up around the television. And guess what the topic for tonight was? FORGIVENESS! Really? I felt my chest tightening and the struggle begin again. In a conference, or a congregation, I can fade into the background. It’s hard to hide an internal struggle when you’re in a living room.  I think I contributed one sentence the entire night. I was afraid if I asked a question or even said more than one thought, that it would all come pouring out. I was just trying to battle it out in my heart alone. When he asked if anyone needed prayer, I didn’t say a word even though I knew I desperately need prayer.  Finally, it was over. I could relax. I began to help clean up, and when I was the last one left, the pastor said, “Dorina, you were quiet tonight.” And then it all came out…ALL of it. Fetullah. The conference. Christ, not the cross. My idea of revenge. All of the ugliness. What I knew to be right, but what I didn’t want to do. 

One thing that I love about my pastor is that it is always about Christ.  And that is where he brought me – back to Christ. Do I want to glorify Christ? Then I need to obey Him and forgive. It’s not going to be easy, and no, this person doesn’t “deserve” it.  He said, “That man may not be worthy of your forgiveness. But God commands it, and He is worthy of your obedience.”

Ouch.

But it’s true. He went on to talk about sanctification – and how God blesses obedience. So the decision is up to me. Am I going to obey?

The honest desire of my heart is yes, I want to obey. The obvious flip-side of that coin is that if I refuse to forgive, I choose to live in disobedience.  Yes, I want to be like Fetullah and all of these others before me who have said, “It’s not about me, it’s about Christ and His kingdom.” I don’t have a love that wants to see this person in Heaven, but my God does. He loves him. If I am going to be like Him, I need to have His heart. I must forgive. My God is worthy of my obedience.

So, if you read this blog…pray for me. Pray that I will obey…and forgive.  Pray that I will want “Fetullah’s revenge.”

All to Jesus, I surrender.  Lord, I give myself to Thee; Fill me with Thy love and power, Let Thy blessing fall on me…I surrender all.

Choosing the Cross

In August of 2003, the New York Times reported an unusual act of vandalism.  It happened at the Church of the Holy Cross in Midtown Manhattan after caretakers noticed that a 200-pound plaster rendering of Christ had been removed from a wooden cross near the church’s entrance. This was probably no easy feat. The statue was about four feet long, with a steel core, and had been bolted to the cross in four places.  Sometime between Friday afternoon and Saturday morning, the thieves unscrewed two bolts from behind the statue and made off with the other two bolts.  The church leaders were puzzled as to why someone would steal it, for one thing, but also why they only took Christ and not the entire crucifix.  I don’t know if the thieves were ever caught, but the thought is striking - they only wanted Christ, but not the cross.

I heard this news story yesterday, as it was read in a conference by Gracia Burnham, the New Tribes missionary to the Philippines who was kidnapped with her husband by Muslim terrorists in 2001. They were held captive for over a year before the Filipino army finally caught up with them in a gun battle that resulted in the death of her husband Martin, and a bullet wound in her own leg.  She read the story, and asked, “Do we want Christ, but not His cross?”

How many of us do that today?  We want the “Jesus Loves Me” and the “Wonderful Grace of Jesus” and the eternal home in Heaven with Jesus, but His cross? The suffering? Why would we want that too? 

The conference was sponsored by Voice of the Martyrs, a group that focuses on the persecuted church.  Gracia didn’t speak until late in the afternoon. We had already spent all day listening to people who themselves had been captured and persecuted, beaten, tortured with hot oil, suffered in chains, in prisons, and labor camps.  These were people who knew what it meant to bear the cross of Christ. They bear the marks on their own body.  Through the years, I have met several of these special saints.  Cinderella Agoubi and her husband Milad who were  beaten and imprisoned at the hands of Muslims in Iraq.  Ana Gonzalez, whose first husband Ramon Rivas was murdered by Communist guerillas in the jungle of Colombia where they served as missionaries.   Their faith is staggering to me, and yet they are not bitter.  Not one of them has a "victim" mentality. These people have a special joy and intimacy with God. I want to have that…but I certainly don’t want to go through what they did to experience Him in the way that they did.

How often do I want a faith that’s comfortable? If I’m truly honest, it's more often than I want anyone else to know. I want a faith that offers me forgiveness of my sin, but doesn’t require that I forgive my enemies.  A faith that offers me eternal reward at no cost to me in this present world.  I want to sit comfortably in an air-conditioned church where I can sing about my faith and the cross, but not have to really live it.  Yesterday, one of the speakers referred to the church in America as not persecuted, but mildly inconvenienced at best. It is fortunate that I have been born in a nation with religious freedom, and I don’t face imprisonment or death for attending church, but Christ said that we should deny ourselves and take up our cross daily. Paul said that “I am crucified with Christ, therefore I no longer live.”  When am I going to quit making my life about me? When will I be willing to do what He asks, no matter the cost? Will I sacrifice my pride? My “rights”? My want to have things my way? Will I let my “self” be put to death, so that He can live through me? 

Our pastor just began a series of messages in 1 John, and the challenge has been to examine our faith.  How many people claim to be a Christian because at some point in the distant past, they walked down an aisle, prayed a prayer, and then went on their merry way living their life for themselves? They took out a “fire insurance” policy to protect them from Hell, stuck it in their back pocket, and figured they didn’t owe God anything else but perhaps some church attendance and offerings every now and then.  But if that is all there is to it, why would we be told in Scripture to “count the cost”? What is the cost in that?  Bonhoeffer writes about “Cheap Grace” and unfortunately, that is what we keep passing off as the Gospel.  We water it down to make sure that people want it. It’s not just sad, it’s tragic. People are going to Hell from the pews of American churches.  And they are people I know. People all around me. People I work with. People in my family.

Am I willing to take a stand and make a difference?  Am I willing to take Christ AND His cross?  

Heart Problems

I was praying and reading my Bible today, and found myself in Psalms again, chapter 51 to be exact.  I remember to this day the first time I consciously read Psalm 51. I was in high school and was a counselor at Child Evangelism Fellowship’s summer camp, Camp Good News.  I was wrestling with some sin in my life – I don’t remember now what exactly, but based on the timeframe, I would say probably hatred and bitterness that I just couldn’t let go of.  That week, we didn’t have our usual lifeguard for whatever reason, and the person who filled in was a young man from Clearwater Christian College named Joe Davis. (The girls in my cabin called him “Uncle Hunk,” but that’s beside the point! J) At some point during the week, Joe and I were talking, and it was he who sent me to Psalm 51, and it was then that I remember for the first time really comprehending David’s desire to confess his sin and restore that right relationship with God. That was about 20 years ago, but I never forgot it.  In the years since, I have gone to that chapter over and over again­­­­­­ – there is just so much to learn from just a few verses. I’ve heard plenty of sermons from that chapter.  Earlier this year, I even memorized it with my youngest son Ben.  I say that to say, this chapter is not unfamiliar to me.  But today as I read it, a light bulb came on for me.

I was reading verses 16 and 17: “For You do not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it; You are not pleased with burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise.”

I read that first verse, about God not delighting in sacrifice – or David would give it.  The Old Testament is full of instructions about sacrifices and about miracles God performed regarding sacrifices.  ­­­­Just a few verses later in verse 19, David talks about when God will delight in righteous sacrifices, burnt offerings, etc., so it almost seems odd that he would say God was not pleased with burnt offering in verse 16.  David was in a place where if he could have offered a sacrifice to make things right, he would have – but he couldn’t.  I got to thinking, sometimes I almost think it would be easier that way. We mess up, we make a sacrifice – all better!  I can be very “works”-oriented sometimes, and if the secret to intimacy with God were a list of things I could just do – some sort of checklist – the Christian life would be so much simpler! I was still pondering that, when I read the next verse – the one about a broken and a contrite heart.  And then it hit me. God doesn’t care as much about what I do as He does about what I am in my heart.  It’s a heart issue. David could have offered up an entire herd of cattle as a sacrifice, but if his heart had not been broken over his sin, it wouldn’t have mattered one bit.  It wasn’t until David’s heart was broken and contrite that the relationship could be restored.  I began to think of other examples in Scripture of the same principle – the first one that came to mind was Saul. He had disobeyed what God had told him to do concerning destroying the Amalekites. When Samuel confronted him, Saul’s defense mechanism kicked in, and his excuse was that he had saved the best sheep and oxen for a sacrifice. Samuel said, “Has the Lord as much delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice.” (1 Samuel 15:22)  Samuel went on to talk about how because of Saul’s rebellion, God was rejecting him as king.  Saul’s problem was a heart problem.  And he certainly wasn’t broken or contrite over his sin – he made excuses.  I thought about the Pharisees. They did all the right things, made all the right sacrifices, went through all the motions… but Jesus said their hearts were far from Him. 

I started reflecting on my own life and heart. Even with other people, when I know I have done something wrong, my first instinct is to do something.  If I hurt your feelings, my apology will most likely come with baked goods, a card, or an offer to do something for you to try to make it right.  But how many times, do we try to substitute doing for being?  How many husbands think that last-minute flowers will make up for how he has failed her as a husband?  How many parents try to make up for their mistakes by buying new toys? How many times do guilty children suddenly become very willing to help with dishes or chores around the house?  What about with God? Do I think that somehow I can make up for failing God by doing something- anything- for Him?  If I fail to spend time with Him today, will reading/praying twice as much tomorrow make up for that? It’s not about what I can do – it’s about what I must be – in my heart – broken and contrite. 

I guess I already knew that in my head, but it really clicked today in my heart.  I read back through the Psalm again…and again…praying the words to God. ­ I truly want my heart to be broken over sin that is in my life. And there is sin in my life.  My feelings were hurt because a friend slighted me, and I was angry. I struggle with bitterness toward others who have wronged me. I’m envious of people who seem to have everything going just right for them.  I heard last night that someone I didn’t like very much had experienced some trouble, and I was secretly glad.  I thought some unkind things that I really wanted to say to someone…to put them in their place. And that was just in the last 24 hours!  I really have a wicked heart. These things come between me and God.  I want God to break my heart over these things – over anything – that threatens that relationship I have with him.  I want to say like David, “A broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise.” You know why? Because the story doesn’t end with my heart being broken. Because then, God can do what David asked in verse 10: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.”  Now it’s not about what I can do – but about what He can do. The Great Physician does open-heart surgery!  He takes out the damaged tissue and restores it.  I just have to be willing to lie down on the operating table and offer up that broken heart to Him. 

Salt Shakers...and Grinders

I love Word of Life. I love their philosophy. I love their emphasis on God’s Word. I love their heart for missions. I have more than a few friends who are missionaries with Word of Life…and I am one of their fans on Facebook. Yesterday, “wolmissions” (Word of Life Missions) posted the following quote as their status: “Salt was not made for the salt shaker. It was made for the soup.” (Dr. Chris Gnanakan) 

I’ve been thinking about that quote tonight…as I looked at my own salt shaker. Well, it’s not a shaker, so much as a grinder.  I have this fancy salt – I think it is Himalayan Sea Salt.  Whatever it is, it’s certainly not the Morton’s iodized salt that comes in the big round container with the pour spout on top.  You know, the cheap stuff? No, MY salt shaker is part of a matching bamboo salt/pepper grinder set that sits on a little bamboo tray and looks pretty…which is why I have the fancy salt.  It goes without saying that a fancy salt shaker needs fancy salt.  Dr. Gnanakan wasn’t talking about salt literally, of course. He was referring to us – believers – who are called to be the “salt of the earth.”    And I get what he was saying. What good does salt do if it never leaves the salt shaker? That’s not its purpose. It’s not made to sit on the table. It is made to season food.  This is true for the church. We weren’t purchased out of sin to sit in our fancy churches – to look pretty.  But isn’t that what we want to do?  We go to church to sing about Amazing Grace, but never tell anyone outside of those walls about what is so amazing about it. We sing hymns and songs about “how great is our God” and how we want all to see it, but do we ever really stop and share that with anyone on Sunday afternoon? Or Monday morning? God saved us by His grace so that we would take that message out into the world…to find other sinners who need that grace as well. 

I like the picture of my salt grinder even better than a salt shaker. You know why? Because that fancy salt doesn’t do a bit of good sitting in that fancy shaker until something happens to it…it gets crushed. Broken into tiny pieces. It can’t stay the way it is and be useful.  I’m like that fancy salt sometimes. I need to be broken.  Why do I have to be broken?  What keeps me from being used? My preferences. My prejudices. My pride. My pre-conceived notions of how I think God should work. (Look at that alliteration – I didn’t even plan that!)  As long as I hold on to those things, I’m too swelled up with pride – too big to make it out of the salt shaker.

I learned this on my first mission trip to work with Word of Life in Guatemala.  I had previously been on trips to England and to Mexico, but there was something about that first trip to Guatemala that God used to teach me a lot of lessons about what missions is really all about.­­ Basically, when it boils down to it, I shouldn’t have had to go all the way to Guatemala to figure this out – because missions should begin here at home. In my neighborhood. In my community.  But for whatever reason, it was in Guatemala that I remember for the first time truly seeing God work – in ways I did not expect, among people I did not expect, and in spite of anything I had to offer.  You know what I learned? God could care less for my preferences.  And He delights in working in and through the people the world (and sometimes the church!) would deem unworthy or unqualified.  He doesn’t need what we classify as the best education, the best training, the best methods or materials. He doesn’t need multi-media presentations or expensive buildings or impressive programs. He needs willing hearts. Hearts that are surrendered to Him. Hearts who have made His passion – reaching the lost – their passion as well.  It was in Guatemala that I first started to figure this out.

It was through another Word of Life missionary that this thought was driven home again – this time in the States. His name is Daniel Gonzalez, and he was visiting with a fellow-missionary, Jimmy Shankula, from Word of Life Ecuador.  I have a profound love and respect for Daniel and his family.  When I knew that he was going to be in our area, I made plans for him to spend time with my family.  I want my children to be exposed to missionaries as much as possible – to learn that they are just ordinary people who are sold out to an extraordinary God.  I wanted to be a blessing to the missionaries as well. We actually were able to spend time with them a couple of times on this particular visit.  There was one night when we went to Ryan’s – a buffet restaurant. It seemed like Daniel stopped to talk to anyone and everyone to tell them about Christ. But the best lesson came later in the week.  I still remember where we were – we had taken Daniel and Jimmy to Concord Mills, a local outlet mall, and we were standing in T.J. Maxx. Jimmy and Daniel were shopping for a few things to take back as gifts, and again, Daniel was talking to everyone.  He even started talking in Spanish to an Indian couple that he mistook for Hispanics.  When Daniel and Jimmy were ready to check out, my son Josh was standing in line with Daniel. He couldn’t have been more than about 7 or 8 years old.  The lines were somewhat long, and I was getting a little nervous about how all of these people would feel if Daniel started to hold up the line.  Sure enough, when it was his turn, Daniel introduced Josh to the sales associate. I don’t remember his exact words, but it started something like this, “This is my friend, Josh. He loves Jesus.  Do you know Jesus?”  I started to get embarrassed. What would people think?  But fortunately the Holy Spirit was at work, and­­ just as quickly, I began to feel shame as I saw the hypocrisy in myself.  I claimed to love Christ. I claimed to have a heart for missions. But what about the people around me?  I was surrounded by people who needed the Lord, and I was worried about holding up the line? What did it matter what these people thought? Daniel wasn’t concerned about holding up a line; he was concerned about the soul standing across from him. And he was doing exactly what I had secretly hoped – he was teaching my son (and me!) that anyone can be a missionary…and anywhere. English is not his native tongue, and yet he shared the love of Christ. What was my excuse? I prayed that God would forgive me for my attitude. We did some more shopping, we went to Nascar Speedpark, and a Mexican restaurant. My children still remember driving go-carts at the Speedpark with Daniel and Jimmy. They each had their favorite, and to this day, still remember that time with them.  I vaguely remember the Speedpark. I remember vividly, however, the check-out line at T.J. Maxx.  It was there that I was humbled once again, and gained a better understanding of what it means to be a “fisher of men.”

I still do not have the boldness I saw in Daniel, but I am becoming more and more bold in my witness.  I am trying to not stay comfortable on display in that salt shaker. I am trying to offer myself up to be broken and used – to do what I was created for. I am learning that salt, when used correctly, really makes a difference. I am trying to make a difference too – in the people with whom I come into contact every day.  I have prayed and prayed to be able to go to the mission field. I truly have a heart for foreign missions, and I think after two visits to Guatemala, that a part of my heart remained there.  But God hasn’t chosen to send me back there yet…or to any of the other countries that I want to help reach with the Gospel. Obviously, there is more I need to learn, and I must wait on His timing. In the meantime, there are plenty around me who need the Gospel just as much as those in other countries. The question is, will I be willing to be broken and poured out on them? 

What about you? Where are you? In the salt shaker? Or in the soup?

Filet-of-Fish and Mud Pies...

I am a huge fan of coupons! (Some will tell you that I am just plain cheap…but I insist I’m just being a “good steward”!) Every once in a while, McDonald’s mails out these little coupon books full of mostly Buy 1-Get 1 deals. I use those with either the boys or with my friend Martha. There is one coupon though, for a $1.50 filet-of-fish sandwich. Martha and the boys don’t like those, so I’m always the one who uses that coupon. This past Monday, I had to go to my children’s school which is in Rockwell about 30 minutes away. Their school gets out at 3. I had a shift at my part-time job at Chick-fil-A in Concord that started at 4 (about 15 minutes from my house in the other direction – 45 minutes from Rockwell.) I decided it would make more sense for me to change into my Chick-fil-A clothes before heading to Rockwell so that I could save time in that hour between 3 and 4. I got to Rockwell a little early, I hadn’t eaten lunch, and those McDonald’s coupons were on my mind. So I walked into the McDonald’s in Rockwell and ordered my $1.50 sandwich. There was a little boy there – maybe 6 or 7 – who kept staring at me. I was almost to the point of feeling uncomfortable when he walked up to me – a total stranger – and said, “What are you doing here?” Thinking he had me confused with someone else, I said, “Excuse me?” He asked again, “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you get food at Chick-fil-A?” Then I realized I had on my uniform, and that probably in his mind (and everyone else’s) why on earth would someone who had access to Chick-fil-A choose to eat McDonald’s instead? I have to admit, he had a valid point - especially considering what I had ordered!  I muttered something back about having my coupon and being hungry now and not wanting to wait an hour… when it dawned on me… I do the same thing spiritually. With all of the promises that God has given in His Word, and all of the spiritual riches that He has to offer me, so often, I settle for the cheap and now. I’m not willing to wait for what’s better. He says, “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you…” but I want them now. So I try to add them myself. My friend Pammy used to call it “sacrificing the eternal on the altar of the immediate.” And it happens all the time. Young people give into sexual temptations with each other because “they are hungry now” and they don’t want to wait for that something better that God has for them. Many of us choose wrong spouses, wrong colleges, wrong careers – all the time thinking, “but I am hungry now…” and “God would want me to be happy, right?” How foolish. C.S. Lewis wrote about this – and it’s one of my favorite chapters – in his book The Weight of Glory. He said, "We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased." How many times have I settled for mud pies? Whether I call it a mud pie or a filet-of-fish, the truth is – I too often fill my life with things that have no significant value. I settle for what I can do for myself instead of waiting for God’s best. Is there anything wrong with a cheap sandwich? Not in itself, no…. But it wasn’t the best option I had. I could have waited about an hour and had something much more delicious – and probably better for me! I settled. And I’m not the only one. We read in Scripture about people who did the same thing – Adam and Eve, Lot’s daughters, Esau and his birthright, David and Bathsheba… I think it’s one of Satan’s most useful tools – to convince us that God’s best is not worth waiting for. We can satisfy that appetite ourselves. I think about that little boy asking, “What are you doing here?” I wonder how often God wants to ask us the same thing. As we go around trying to satisfy ourselves, does He not wonder, “What are you doing here? You are My child, and I have so much to offer you.” He sees His people in that bar… or that club… or that bedroom…or at that job… or in front of the computer or televisión… or wherever it is, and He says, “What are you doing here?” No more mud pies or fish sandwiches for me – I am done! I want to be willing to wait…

The Valley of Loss - from Hind's Feet on High Places

…Now instead of that the path was leading them down into a valley as low as the Valley of Humiliation itself. All the height which they had gained after their long and toilsome journey must now be lost and they would have to begin all over again, just as though they had never made a start so long ago and endured so many difficulties and tests….For the first time on the journey, she actually asked herself if her relatives had not been right after all and if she ought not to have attempted to follow the Shepherd. How could one follow a person who asked so much, who demanded such impossible things, who took away everything? If she went down there, as far as getting to the High Places was concerned she must lose everything she had gained on the journey so far. She would be no nearer receiving the promise than when she started out from the Valley of Humiliation. For one black, awful moment Much-Afraid really considered the possibility of following the Shepherd no longer, of turning back. She need not go on…Her sorrow and suffering could be ended at once, and she could plan her life in the way she liked best, without the Shepherd…During that awful moment or two it seemed to Much-Afraid that she was actually looking into an abyss of horror, into an existence in which there was no Shepherd to follow or to trust or to love – no Shepherd at all, nothing but her own horrible self…"No one, not even your own shrinking heart, can pluck you out of my hand. Don’t you remember what I told you before? ‘This delay is not unto death but for the glory of God.’ It is no less true now that ‘what I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.’ My sheep hear my voice, and they follow me. It is perfectly safe for you to go on in this way even though it looks so wrong…Will you bear this too, Much-Afraid? Will you suffer yourself to lose or to be deprived of all that you have gained on this journey to the High Places? Will you go down this path of forgiveness into the Valley of Loss, just because it is the way that I have chosen for you? Will you still trust and still love me?"….The awful glimpse down into the abyss of an existence without him had so staggered and appalled her heart that she felt she could never be quite the same again. However, it had opened her eyes to the fact that right down in the depths of her own heart she really had but one passionate desire, not for the things which the Shepherd had promised, but for himself. All she wanted was to be allowed to follow him forever. Other desires might clamor strongly and fiercely nearer the surface of her nature, but she knew now that down in the core of her own being she was so shaped that nothing could fit, fill, or satisfy her heart but he himself. “Nothing else really matters,” she said to herself, “only to love him and to do what he tells me. I don’t know quite why it should be so, but it is. All the time it is suffering to love and sorrow to love, but it is lovely to love him in spite of this, and if I should cease to do so, I should cease to exist.”

I didn’t write this. It’s from Hind’s Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard. I have loved this book since high school, and I read it probably about once a year. It’s an allegory – a work of fiction – but I love it because I see myself in poor Much-Afraid. So horribly disfigured and living with Fear. I want desperately to be made new, and yet the journey is long and hard with setbacks and mistakes on my part. Always, the Good Shepherd is only a prayer away. Much-Afraid has to learn to follow Him no matter what, to lay down her own will and desires in order to be made like Him. Through the night and early morning hours, I was wrestling with a situation in my life that I don’t understand, that just doesn’t seem fair. That seems so contrary to all that God has promised. Around 4:45, a phrase from the book popped into my head: “He has brought me here when I did not want to come for his own purpose. I, too, will look up into his face and say, ‘Behold me! I am thy little handmaiden Acceptance-with-Joy.’” I prayed that I will say that. I didn’t want to come down this road. I don’t understand it, but He has a purpose. I will accept it with joy and follow Him. Since I couldn’t sleep anyway, I got up, ran a bubble bath, and read the chapter that contains the excerpt above. It reminded me again of the passage from Psalm 73: "Whom have I in heaven but You? And besides You, I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." When will I be able to say this – not as a desire of my heart – but as a statement of fact? Besides Him, I desire nothing…

I Am Second...

I have this friend Ryan… He has a pretty cool testimony of how he tried to do things his way, and then turned his life over to Christ. He is on fire for God right now and currently preparing for a mission trip to Africa. I used to notice that Ryan always had on bracelets or t-shirts or hats that say, “I Am Second” so I asked him once about what it meant. It’s actually an organization/movement that focuses on putting Christ first. Here’s what their website says:

I am Second is a movement meant to inspire people of all kinds to live for God and for others. Actors. Athletes. Musicians. Business leaders. Drug addicts. Your next-door neighbor. People like you. The authentic stories on iamsecond.com provide insight into dealing with typical struggles of everyday living. These are stories that give hope to the lonely and the hurting, help from destructive lifestyles, and inspiration to the unfulfilled. You’ll discover people who’ve tried to go it alone and have failed. Find the hope, peace, and fulfillment they found. Be Second.

If you go to the website, you can watch videos of people from all walks of lives – famous athletes, coaches, actors – all kinds of people – who have decided to put God first in their lives. Each interview/testimony ends this way, “I am…. And I am second.”

Ryan gave me an I Am Second bracelet, and something extraordinary happened. Suddenly I had a constant reminder that this life is not all about me. There have been so many times that I have wanted to respond to a situation in a certain way, but glanced down at the bracelet and remembered that there are things more important than my “rights” or my feelings or anything that involves me. I guess it’s reminiscent of when everyone was wearing the “WWJD” bracelets, but for me, this is more significant. I can’t even explain it. I really don’t even have to see the bracelet anymore because the thought is becoming second nature to me – whatever the situation, how can I put Christ and others first? I still wear it though… because other people see it and ask what it means. It opens the door for me to share with them as well.

The verse that comes to me when I think about it is Colossians 1:18, “…that in all things, He might have the pre-eminence…” All things. All. Wow, what a thought! What if I could really live my life in such a way that in everything that I did and said, Christ came to the forefront?

I’m not a famous actor or athlete or coach or anything visible to thousands and thousands of people. But there are still people that I impact every day. What kind of impact do I make? When I am gone, will they remember me? Or will they remember what Christ did through me?

I am Dorina Atkins…and I am second.

New Year…

It's another new year. They seem to come a lot faster than they did when I was younger. I've given up on making resolutions about things like losing weight or keeping my house immaculate all of the time, but I do usually use the new year as a time to reflect on the previous year and areas where I need to change or want to improve. This year, there was no question what one of those areas would be. A few weeks before Christmas, I was talking with a friend about how I had jam-packed my holidays with work at several jobs to avoid being home alone.

"Why don't you want to be alone? What are you afraid of?" she asked.

My pathetic reply was something along the lines of, "I'm not really afraid. I just don't want to be alone…because when I'm alone, then I think…and I'll think about how I don't have anyone to spend the holidays with…and then I'll be depressed…so I'll just work and then I won't think about it…."

What she said next, left me almost speechless – and ate at me for the next several weeks. "But you're not alone. You have a chance to be with your God!" She said it incredulously, as if shocked that I would even think of passing up an opportunity like that…and she's right. Would I have taken time off work to be with family? Yes. Close friends? Yes. But the God of the universe? The only One Who can actually fill the void I am trying to fill with my busyness? The only One Who can comfort me when I am lonely? Why won't I make time for Him?

On New Year's Day, I happened to read these verses from Psalm 73: "Whom have I in heaven but You? And besides You, I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." The next day, I was back in the same chapter, and I read more of the verses surrounding those: "…I am continually with You; You have taken hold of my right hand. With Your counsel You will guide me…as for me, the nearness of God is my good; I have made the Lord God my refuge…" I have come back to this chapter over and over again this first week of the new year. I am claiming them for myself this year – that I will so cultivate my relationship with God that there is NOTHING on earth that I desire above Him. I am not going to fight to fill the lonely hours with activity to keep my mind off of my situation. Instead, I will thank God for those quiet times and the opportunity that I have to spend time with Him.

It's funny how things happen sometimes – I had just hit a 75% clearance sale at the Christian bookstore, and one of the books I got was A Hunger for God by John Piper. The first verse in the first chapter was the same verse from Psalm 73. I am not very far into the book yet, but it is about fasting and prayer and about what things I am I filling my life with besides Christ? Ouch.

So, if you ask me what my New Year's Resolutions for 2012 are, I won't have anything profound about exercise or weight loss or financial gain to tell you. What I will tell you is that "I resolve to be closer to my God." And you know what? I think that's all that matters.