Mary Sang

"And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bring forth a Son, and shall call His name Jesus." -- Luke 1:31

I was twenty-four years old, and about sixteen days overdue when I delivered my firstborn. I'd spent those waiting days bumping along in a bow rider in Rehoboth Bay; painting the chain link fence around our yard -- living as if nothing was ever going to happen. No contractions, no back pains or trouble sleeping; no frequent trips to the bathroom; nothing but constant kicks and my big belly to remind me I was expecting anyone. And truthfully, the thought of labor and delivery terrified me.

Perhaps it's because of my fears, Mary's story resonates with me. She was so young -- probably much younger than I was. Her first child, a precious baby boy -- like mine. "Do not be afraid, Mary" (Luke 1:30). I was afraid. And Mary's circumstances! The whispers and sideways glances. "Joseph is a fool to stay with her!" I deserved those responses; I, too, was unmarried, but prideful, demanding my own way. My son was special to me, all my own; but her Son was special to everyone, a gift to the world from before His first cry! How I wanted to get it all right, to make my son understand he was loved and cared for every minute of his life. But how to demonstrate that to the Son of the Most High? What to feed the Son of God? "Is He warm enough? Does He seem feverish to you? Is that normal?" I can't imagine the pressure.

But Mary sang!

“My soul magnifies the Lord, And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior. For He has regarded the lowly state of His maidservant;For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed. For He who is mighty has done great things for me, And holy is His name. And His mercy is on those who fear Him From generation to generation. He has shown strength with His arm;He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He has put down the mighty from their thrones, And exalted the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, And the rich He has sent away empty. He has helped His servant Israel, In remembrance of His mercy, As He spoke to our fathers, To Abraham and to his seed forever.” -- Luke 1:46-55

Had she begun to show? Was there any evidence of a miracle taking place within her? It's likely there was not. And yet, she praised the Lord. Am I willing to magnify the Lord even when I can see no evidence of His grace in my current situation? Nazareth was a tiny town, and anthropologists believe many of its residents were related. No secrets there. What were people going to say? Would they allow them to think Jesus was illegitimate? Or tell them He was God's Son? (There's a dilemma.) But Mary sang! Is my song more important than my standing? Mary would watch as her son was continually harassed and hunted by the law, only to later be betrayed to death by a close friend. For three days, Mary would mourn her son; her precious, firstborn son would be entombed in a garden grave. And yet, Mary sang. Is there joy in my heart when the joy of life is hidden from my eyes? Can I raise my voice above the roar of the storm? Mary sang.

So find your song and sing it with all you've got. Raise your hands and lift your voice to the God of mercy and might, who makes all things new. Praise the God who exalts the lowly and speaks to His people even today. Sing like Mary sang, from the soul.

When You Hear Nothing, Look Out!

It's strange the things that stick with you. Years ago, I'd heard something about mosquitoes: only the females bite, and only the males "buzz." The conclusion I drew was, "When you hear nothing, look out!" It turns out, this mosquito fact is only partially true. Only female mosquitoes bite, but both sexes buzz. (Imagine that -- years before the internet, and still, misinformation found its way to the masses.)

I was reading Matthew 19:16-22 this morning -- "The Rich Young Ruler." I've often heard this preached as a warning against riches or religion, the mere checking off of behaviors to please God without a true knowledge of who He is and what He desires. But as I read this morning, a question came to mind. Let me just give you a synopsis of the encounter first.

A rich young official (probably holding a place of authority in the synagogue) approaches Jesus and asks what he should do to gain eternal life. Jesus replies by reciting five of the ten commandments, and substitutes the commandment about coveting with loving your neighbor as yourself (Leviticus 19:18). Jesus answers this young man with all the basics of our horizontal relationships, relationships with others. Many of the sermons I've heard sort of gloss over this point; discourses focus on the young man's desire to complete a checklist (religion) or hold onto his wealth (a reluctance toward sacrifice). And I know, Sunday morning sermons cannot go on endlessly in front of a host of fidgeting people checking their watches, but the question remained. Why did Jesus omit those first four commandments regulating relationship with God? So, I began searching and praying for the answer. (As I implied earlier, the internet is a wonderful resource, bringing libraries of information right into our homes, but there's misinformation as well. Whenever I seek to find answers, I pray throughout the process.)

Over and over, sermons talked about what was missing in this young man's life: devotion to God. And that's when it made sense to me. The reason Jesus omitted the commandments about passion for God, is because that's exactly what was missing from this man's life! When you hear nothing, look out! In Jesus' answer, there was silence where the need for a vertical relationship should have been. In this young man's life, there was silence where a vertical relationship should have been. The man never even questioned Jesus' omission. If he was such a law keeper, don't you think he would have mentioned those before he pressed Jesus as to what he was lacking in his life? Wouldn't he have said, "I have kept all these and even the ones you left out, but I still don't seem to have it"? Nope. No mention of them anywhere. He didn't have it, and Jesus was making that clear by leaving it out just as this young man had done. Sometimes we all need to pay attention to what isn't said.

How is your relationship with Jesus? What is missing from your life? This man had it all: power, money, good character, a Jewish background; but it was what was missing that mattered most. It was what he didn't hear that should have put him on the lookout.

Life's Ecosystem

The heat wave had finally broken -- sweltering temperatures, replaced by invigorating mornings and balmy daytime breezes! Another work week over, bills had been paid, and with humidity's departure, joint pain had ceased as well. Now, birds chirped and the newness of morning broke through my once sleeping senses. Life was good. And yet, I felt something simply wasn't as balanced as it appeared. I was missing my Moosey. Tears fell.

Bishop (Moosey) and I were buds. He awoke with me every morning and climbed the wooden hill as I went to bed each evening. It had been less than three weeks since we'd said "goodbye," and morning was one of the times I missed him most. Spending the previous day with friends' dogs had been therapeutic. I'd stroked their soft fur and recounted stories, but now all those memories brought recently to the surface were lying there waiting to be grieved.

We were meant to grieve. Not that this world was designed with death and sadness in mind, but the emotions that are triggered during life's disappointments and torments were placed in us for those experiences. Grieving helps. Through grief we process what has happened and our feelings about it, and develop a way to move on in light of what has happened.

Recently, I asked a friend over for lunch. I want to talk and hang out with someone I like, but I also need to start something new. Bishop was an obstacle to having friends over; his over-protectiveness made things tense -- for everyone. I believe God can do something good with any awful circumstance, and I believe this is one of those ways I can move on in light of what has happened. Missing Bishop desperately, wishing he didn't have to go, but realizing good things don't stop happening just because he is no longer here is what grieving is all about.

One of the few things I remember from high school Physics is Newton's Third Law: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Grief and Joy. We were made to joy. Joy is the way we combat the hardships of this life and move out of the grieving process. As the author of Ecclesiastes said, "To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven." I could stay in grief, but grief is just a tool -- like a bandage and salve -- that helps us deal with the initial pain of loss. To stay in grief would give it the power to become as oppressive as last week's heat, usurping all joy, crippling me with pain, and eventually throwing my entire life out of balance. Joy is the lifting of the spirit, the squelching of pain, the filling up and refreshing of the soul, until the grief is overpowered and pushed on in our emotional ecosystem.

The heat will be back -- that's how an ecosystem works. But now, it's time to relish the warmth of the sun tempered by these cool, dry breezes. And to give thanks for grief that yields to joy, and the balance that God has designed for life.

Walking into Battle

The Civil War has been a macabre fascination for me: people -- family -- living in relationship, side by side for years, suddenly forced by their beliefs and social circumstances to kill one another; the dearth of medical knowledge coupled with the risky medical procedures conducted (many successfully!) during those years; weaponry that was developed. A picture of the human tragedy so prevalent throughout that period and that region of our country is found in the book, Diary of a Dead Man, compiled by J. P. Ray. I read it years ago, and found the circumstances of the Civil War really coming alive to me. The conditions the soldiers and prisoners were forced to endure; the hardships of war and the loneliness of being away from family; the utter disbelief of working the family farm one week, and subsisting on insufficient rations the next; and the walking! Entire days given over to lugging gear and troops from one battle to the next. Constant movement and redirection communicated swiftly by horseback, executed laboriously by sick and weary men.

As I was doing my study on anger this morning, I read 1 Corinthians 10:13, Ephesians 6:10-18, and Philippians 4:13. God has provided a way for all of us to control whatever it is we need to control -- anger, fear, impulsive shopping, lying; to say that we cannot obey, or we are not receiving any help from the Holy Spirit is to call God a liar, to say He is not faithful. Help exists, a way out exists; we must seek God's direction, and He will enable us to do whatever He commands -- like control ourselves (Proverbs 25:28). Ephesians breaks it all down, explaining each piece of "armor" and what it does for us: truth, faith, salvation, righteousness, the preparedness that comes from the gospel of peace, the word of God, and prayer. We are equipped in Christ. BUT...

I think of all that walking. Walking either weakens or strengthens a soldier. Without rest or the proper nourishment, without proper clothing, the soldier falls ill, becomes weak and exhausted. With all the soldier requires (in this analogy, all God provides liberally and faithfully) the soldier becomes stronger; but the soldier must walk. Day after day; mile after mile. Battles don't come at every turn; a soldier may not see serious combat for weeks at a time; but the soldier must still walk, walk, walk, walk. To build strength; so the weapons and defenses supplied become part of the soldier; to become one with other soldiers and with their Leadership; to develop patterns within the brain to which the soldier will automatically seek to return once the battle is over. The soldier must walk. It's sometimes boring and arduous; it may be hard to get motivated when other things appear more pressing, but walking is imperative for the soldier. So, get your walk in today -- and everyday -- you'll be better for it in the battle.