A Question of Preparation

I sit here, rocking this tiny person, giving him comfort. From what, I have no idea. Something has startled him, something has caused him to fear or to hurt. And here I am. I remember my mother rocking me in our worn out recliner. It seemed as though hours would pass before I would be calm. I was, as I remember, a tormented child. I remember crying, I remember frustration over things I couldn't even explain. Just these inexplicable feelings. As I got older, I wondered if I was mentally ill. Writing became, and remains today, an outlet, a catharsis, a way to logically sort through events and emotions in order to -- today -- pray effectively about them.

This morning, my devotions centered around "dangerous" prayers, specifically ones that beg, "Send me." I have prayed those prayers before, and God has always led me more deeply into the fray, more deeply into reliance on Him, and more deeply into relationship with Him. Today's devotional concluded with these two questions:

What did God do for you? How do you think it sets you up for what He wants you to do for Him?

Seconds after I prepared to answer the first question in my journal, in came this distraught little child, begging to be assuaged from who knows what. And as I rocked, I understood: God gave me a mother who taught me compassion. She cradled me for hours on end. She served others she saw as less fortunate. She was kind to animals. She rooted for the underdog -- always. (She taught me to cheer for Army every December 😊 ) She provided hugs and treats even though I could provide no explanation for my distress. God gave her to me. But not just for my benefit...

Question #2. I can't always understand what Mom is thinking or experiencing. I don't always have minutes, let alone hours, penciled into my daily schedule to soothe every hurt or stroke every ego in our crowded little home. I don't always want to soothe every hurt or stroke every ego. This life doesn't look like anything I had planned or even would plan. Sometimes things appear completely irrational and unnecessary -- to me. But so many years ago, God had a plan. He gave me this gentle woman who taught me compassion. Compassion that, by God's grace, I am able to return to her and pass on to others as I implore daily, "Send me."

So, what has God done for you?
How has His goodness on your behalf prepared you for what might happen when you pray, "Send me"?

Stand If You're Able

She says it every week. "Please stand if your able, while we worship the Lord." I stand without thinking, something I've done since I was a child. It's time to sing; it's time to pray. Stand if you're able.

This week, however, I looked to the side. The bent form of the woman across the aisle began to move as she stood to worship. If anyone could be considered "unable to stand," it would be her. This week, she had withstood the rain and cold to be here; she struggled up the winding staircase of our church to worship in the sanctuary; and now, she was using everything within her to rise and stand before her Lord in worship.

I think how I felt when I woke up today. Sunday is the only day each week I can even consider staying in my pajamas, lingering around the breakfast table with my family. The only student I'll have in Sunday school is the one who could be sitting across from me at the breakfast table. The dismal, grey skies perfectly captured my mood, and my aching back could use a rest. It would have required minimum effort to keep me cozy and warm at home this morning. But -- hooray for me -- I pasted on a smile, threw on something mildly better than sweats, snatched up some items for a Sunday school lesson, and dragged myself out to church. Now, here I was, watching this woman use all her strength to stand. I felt like a schmo. But, was it her strength anyway?

The Bible is rife with accounts of average -- even less than average -- people who were the catalysts for God's amazing work. The man who built an enormous boat with his bear hands, all the while enduring ridicule and, I'm sure, moments of frustration and discouragement, to survive something called "rain." A prostitute who boldly risked her life for God's people and was woven into the genealogy of the King of kings. The boy who courageously stood up to a giant, who in later years fought a greater battle, repenting of adultery and murder, to become a "man after God's own heart." The men who, though their chains were broken and prison gates thrown open, refused to leave lest the Roman jailer be executed for perceived negligence. Was it their skill, or tenacity, or boldness, or contrition, or mercy?

The Bible tells us every good gift and every perfect gift comes from God. The goodness that is found within us, talents, courage, a sense of justice, humility, compassion -- they were placed in us or developed in us by God, whether you believe it or not. (Just because you deny your Creator, doesn't mean He didn't create you.) Weakened legs supporting a bent and broken body is God at work. A heart turned from self to others is God at work. A family sustained by food and finances that seem to come from nowhere is God at work. The lengths to which we allow Him to do all He can do, though, that is our choice.

His strength is made manifest, is brought to fruition where we lack. When we are in love with God, leaning completely on Him, and allowing Him to take charge of all we are and all we desire, when we want nothing but His will for us and others, when we listen for His voice and obey it, great things can come to pass. Not out of our courage, or skill, or strength, or humility, or kindness, or physical ability -- but out of that which God, our Creator and King, is placing and developing within us.

Let us stand, and praise His holy name!

Do This and Live

How serious are you about all of this? I "heard" the question one morning as I was on my way to work. I'd been praying about a situation in which others are ruled by foolishness and pride; adults who have been helped and counseled, who are free to make their own choices, but have made some really terrible ones -- and will vigorously tell you they are victims. Folks, some might say, are simply "getting what they asked for." And I will be honest, there is a part of me that wants to think just that; but then, there's that question. How serious are you about all of this? How serious are you about all this praying for change, for eyes to be opened? How serious are you about wanting to see God glorified in all of this?

Before I had a chance to defend myself, the "voice" continued. Feed My lambs. That's not exactly what the voice said, but that was definitely the gist. Make something happen. Get out and do something about it. Create the opportunity for My glory to be revealed through your actions. Now, I know, had I been given the chance to answer the first question, I would have said how earnest I am. I would have said just how much I love the Lord; I want others to see Him through me. I want Him to use my life for His glory alone. But the Holy Spirit wasn't going to allow me the luxury of passive justification. I was being called to action, and trust me when I tell you, this action was not rational; this action was going to make things messy; this action was going to cause me problems. Feed my sheep.

Days later, as I sat in our weekly Bible study, the Holy Spirit stirred in me again. In Luke 10:25, a lawyer, wanting to test Jesus asks, "What shall I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus responds by asking not only what the law says, but how this man understands it. The lawyer speaks of a complete love for God -- heart, soul, strength and mind -- and loving others as we love ourselves. "And Jesus said to him, 'You have answered rightly; do this and you will live.'" (v.28, emphasis mine) Our understanding of Scripture is personal. As we read, the Holy Spirit opens our minds and hearts to the truth, but as we understand, we are called to further action. Do this and you will live.

When the Holy Spirit spoke to me that morning, He called me beyond understanding, to action -- an action, I thought was pretty extreme. Put your money where your mouth is, so to speak.

-- In every situation, point to Jesus: A godly response to circumstances or dialogue. When others reveal their victories or defeats, respond by pointing them to Jesus.

-- Actively seek situations in which to reveal Christ to others: Put yourself in a place to share Jesus with others. Serve meals at a shelter; reveal your story to others, in light of the Gospel.

-- Create opportunities to let Light shine: Host an event or Bible study, allowing the Holy Spirit to plan your guest list; adopt a child; reconcile with an enemy.

As our relationship with Jesus unfolds, He reveals, we understand. But as that understanding matures, we are tasked with giving it human form. Do this and live.

Christmas: Sacrifice, Submission and Giving

"Sacrifice" is probably not one of those words you'll see printed on a Christmas ornament. Neither is "submission," or "demoralizing," or "obedience" -- concepts that rarely come to mind while staring into a Christmas creche. But, sacrifice is the very essence of Christmas.

The coming of God to Earth was a tremendous gift. Emmanuel, God with us, come to give His life for all. Sacrifice. But that life began long before a Babe's first gasp or a bar mitzvah, or a public ministry; Jesus sacrificed His life the moment He left His glory, His kingdom in heaven for the dark warmth of a young mother's womb.

The King of kings elected to lie in a feeding trough and be lauded by simple shepherds. Jesus chose to have His bottom cleaned and His nose wiped. He submitted to rules about jumping on the furniture, and eating vegetables, and curfews. Luke 2:51, says He obeyed Joseph and Mary. Do you think they got it right every time? Were they too hard on Him at times? Did they ever opt to "just skip synagogue and sleep in"? How would He have felt, knowing He needed to be in His Father's house, but was instead being told to get back to bed? Do you think Joseph and Mary never found themselves down to their last nerve? But Jesus submitted. He subjected Himself to physical limitations and fatigue, the stomach flu, back-breaking work, difficult neighbors, cancellations and rescheduled appointments, hunger and poverty. And what of Jesus' half-siblings? Oh, the jealousy He must have experienced! The drama at family dinners and special celebrations!

Jesus was "taught" Scripture -- by men! Imagine Shakespeare taking your community college's Lit course, or Mozart sitting through a sixth-grade music class. But Jesus submitted to men's authority. He partook of feasts and watched -- up close and personal -- the idolatry of His people, exchanging love for God, for a love of rules and ceremony. How He must have wept to hear their bitter talk of waiting so long for deliverance and their cynicism toward a God whose timetable was not their own. But He chose this existence among us. For me. For us all.

He endured arrogance and ignorance, people in bondage who cried out for help but refused to leave their circumstances; betrayal and judgment. He lavished love on those who would later cry out, "Crucify Him." He never once spoke out in haste or frustration against inconsiderate neighbors. He never chose entitlement over servitude, despite His being fully, undeniably entitled. He gave up all of Himself -- His "self" -- to be God With Us.

As Christmas nears, let us not forget true giving, the kind of giving that instills this season with its meaning. Giving obediently. Giving humbly. Giving sacrificially.