Perfect Day for a Walk

The past couple of years have left me a bit out of shape. So, in an effort to acclimate to our old normal, I've taken up walking again. Today was a perfect day: sunshine, a light wind, and temperatures in the low forties. Perfect! I decided to take Tinkerbell who has also been on a bit of a hiatus. She kept pace with me pretty well -- up until the second half. I slowed it down a bit for her and tried to stick to the grass in case the pads on her paws had grown soft and the sidewalk was too much for her. We neared a field, and I considered cutting across, shortening our walk by a few feet, but her old joints would feel the strain of the uneven ground. We moved to the sidewalk. A bit tougher on her feet, perhaps, but easier on the body. Just as we hit our stride, I saw something glistening in the sunlight up ahead. Broken glass. The sidewalk was littered with it, so I moved Tinkerbell back to the grass, only to realize it was in the grass as well. We took to the street. Cars cruised by at a safe distance, and we finished our walk in pretty good time for two old girls.

So, why the wearisome play-by-play? Well, it occurred to me as we walked, just how trusting our faithful friend is. She and I walked this route everyday for years; she knew it forwards and backwards. But despite today's obstacles, despite a number of changes, from sidewalk to street to field, she was completely unaffected. Not once did she pull or cross paths with me. Not once did she attempt to take the route we'd always taken or remain where it seemed most suitable. She simply stayed near me. She followed my lead from start to finish whether we moved from the presumed safety of the sidewalk or to the comfort of the grass. Even when I led her into the street, the potential danger of passing cars never phased her. She knows I would never put her in harm's way. All of that, of course, caused me to think about the way our Heavenly Father leads us. And, how we follow.

Someone recently put it this way, "We can see down the street. God sees around the corner." We have a limited ability to spot danger, and even less of an ability to stop it. God, however, knows what's up ahead. He sometimes takes us from an area that seems comfortable and safe, like the grass, into a place known for danger, like the street. We can't always see the danger, or the plan, or the logic behind the plan, but we do have a choice. We can tug and pull, get upset and try to go our own way, or we can follow His lead. We can trust that, even though we've been down this road many times before, we can't always see what waits for us on this part of the journey. We can look for shortcuts, or know that sometimes we need some conditioning in the wilderness before we get to go Home. We can believe that God is still in control and He is still watching out for us, or we can lie down and refuse to go another inch (much like Tinkerbell's big-headed brother did from time to time). We can yield ourselves to the tutelage and transformation of the Holy Spirit, or we can remain firmly fixed in a rut from one day to the next. We can demand God give us a life of ease (He probably won't, but we can demand it) or we can pray for the strength to keep the pace. We can worry and fret each time the Lord takes us from the course we are on and calls us to something new, or we can relax and enjoy the walk. 

Will You Take That Call?

Can I ask you a question? Has God ever asked you to do anything you didn't want to do? I mean, think about all the people He called upon throughout history. Take, for instance, Gideon. Gideon had a tough time seeing past all that had occurred and the legacy of weakness that plagued his family. He argued, he made excuses, he asked for sign after sign, giving God every opportunity to change His mind. He didn't. Then there were people who never even made the front page, people God may not have called on by name, but who certainly got caught up in the story. For instance, the Bible makes specific mention of Mrs. Noah in the account of her husband's commission, but what if she didn't even like animals? What if she got seasick? 

Two years ago, God gave us a special call. It was difficult, it was a complete diversion from what we ever saw as normal, and it was wonderful! What a privilege to give two young, beautiful children a home! What a joy to see Christmas through tiny eyes again! What a blessing to hear the prayers of little minds at bedtime! What a delight to work until our bodies ached and our minds were reduced to mush, for the glory of the Lord's purposes! Today, that calling is no longer ours. Today, that calling firmly rests in the hands of two people I pray will obey it wholeheartedly and enjoy it as we did. But what of us? This place where we are right now is not what we want. This place where we are right now is empty. But, who says this is not a call? 

Four years ago, I was in an accident. I searched for a purpose in that accident; it made no sense to me whatsoever. Neither of us was seriously injured, demanding we courageously fight our way, with God's help, through recovery. No story that would make headlines there. Scott and I had just dumped a boatload of money into my vehicle, figuring we'd be keeping it forever. The insurance company only paid us a fraction of that, enough for a down payment on a newer but otherwise comparable vehicle. That hardly tasted of victory. Then, our new commission came, one that rendered our replacement vehicle impractical. If God knew these children were coming, why didn't He provide a more suitable vehicle or -- better yet -- protect my older, family-friendly vehicle from the accident in the first place? What was the point? I still can't say, but I do know the young man whose vehicle hit mine has been on my prayer list since that day. God has never provided me with a neon sign blinking, "THAT'S IT!" but I refuse to concede my encounter that night was without purpose. I refuse to let it be without purpose, and until God shows me otherwise, I will do what I can -- pray.

And as I sat contemplating the last two years, feeling as if our calling was ripped from us, it occurred to me, what if this is our calling? For two years we have loved on those babies. For two years we have tried to teach them all we knew about living life with integrity, and loving others, and the blessing of family, and choosing God above all others. For two years we have surrounded them with people who would care about them, preserve their innocence, and pray for them. For two years we have taught them how to pray and to worship even through the storms of life. For two years we tended to their physical, emotional and spiritual needs. For what? Maybe for now. Maybe that we might have developed such a love for them that even though we are apart, our hearts are so closely intertwined, they are on our minds and in our prayers continuously. Maybe that the love for them kindled in us might compel us to pray for them without ceasing.

I don't want this call. I want our old commission back. It had become comfortable to us. It was crazy and loud, but it was home and family. Everyone was safe and life was normal. It is what our hearts yearn for. But, here we are. With a new purpose. God is calling us to a new chapter, and though He hasn't quite revealed it to us, it's going to be great, a redemption story. Because that is the business God is in, and we work for Him.

Maybe Not Today, but Definitely on Time

I have good news and bad news: God is going to heal you. Just, maybe not today. God is going to take away your grief. Just, maybe not today. What do you make of that? Maybe you figure that some hope or a delayed answer to prayer is better than nothing. Maybe, to you, it sounds a little sketchy. I mean, if God can do it, if God is willing to do it, why not just do it right now?

One of the most theologically unsound, possibly abominably sacrilegious movies I ever watched was "Bruce Almighty." But, a point it made stuck with me. Bruce is angry. Life doesn't seem to be treating him as he'd like, so he complains. About God. "God" appears, endowing Bruce with infinite power and challenging him to do a better job. Bruce finds that in giving everyone everything they think they need, he is doing more harm than good. Now, I'm not saying God has limitations. I'm not saying God is like some irresponsible cartoony character wielding power like a two-year old handles a golf umbrella (experience talking here). What I am saying is, it is so much bigger than us. 

I have had those experiences where I prayed for one thing or another, God made me wait, and it turned out better than it would have if it happened as I intended. But, how can allowing a child to be harmed before intervening be good? How can healing someone of a disease after they've infected others be kind? How can allowing a drunk driver to wipe out an entire family be better than immediately answering a wife's decade-long prayer that her husband get sober? Those are all really terrible things, right? What if that child grows into an adult whose testimony brings hundreds to know the healing power of the Lord? What if those infected become invaluable in discovering a cure that saves thousands? What if, on the day of the funeral, many in attendance hear the Gospel for the first time, or are spared from a mudslide that wipes out their neighborhood? I know I might be oversimplifying, but trust me, we are going through the same thing right now. All we have known for the past two years has been turned on its head and people we love are in a place we are convinced is not best for them. I can feel God's presence, He has sent countless people to minister to us, but I don't always joyfully or gratefully receive it. When I give thanks for a word of encouragement, a voice within me whispers, "If You hadn't allowed this, You wouldn't have to work so hard encouraging me." But, it is so much bigger than us.

We have all been playing the game: maybe God is going to do this; maybe God is going to do that. Maybe the people who have reached out to us needed to be taken out of themselves. Maybe the people in the pews behind us are just watching, waiting to see how we live out our trust in God. We are looking for the plan, the purpose to help us get through this time. But God's ways are not our ways; His thoughts are not our thoughts. His are so much better, so much more refined and eternal. And rather than staying awake watching for the sun on the horizon, sometimes we have to close our eyes knowing it will be there in the morning. We have to let God be God rather than expecting He will reveal His plan to us, submit it for our approval. If He did, we'd only mess it up anyway. We have to know He is there through the sickness, through the grief, walking beside and encouraging us. We have to allow Him to heal us and hold us instead of wriggling free and insisting we're ready to move on. We have to trust that the bad news, the "maybe not today" part of this means the path of restoration and redemption that he set us on, that we pray for daily, will be so much better, so much bigger than we ever imagined -- but right on time.

"For there is still a vision for the appointed time;

    it speaks of the end, and does not lie.

If it seems to tarry, wait for it;

    it will surely come, it will not delay."

~Habakkuk 2:3

Listen and Obey -- Everyday

"Happy Tuesday!" The words stretched over the bottom of a beautiful sunrise. A meme that came to me just as I was forcing myself to take a walk. I'd been white-knuckling my entire morning, trying to get through this day alone -- the first. I was somewhere between "ripping the Band Aid off" -- forcing myself to get back to our old normal -- and wanting to crawl into a hole until death. "Happy Tuesday?" I objected. "You have no idea what an unhappy Tuesday this is." But I read on: 

"When storms come your way, just remember you know the Master of the wind. When sickness finds you, remind yourself you know the Great Physician. When your heart gets broken, just say, 'I know the Potter.' It doesn't matter what we face or go through. Jesus is the way, the truth and the life. He is everything we need. Amen."

Tears began to pool. I texted back, "I guess you heard, or is this just God?" She hadn't heard. She had simply obeyed.

Let me tell you just a little something about the sender. She and I have never laid eyes on one another. We work in two different buildings, in two different states. We talk several times a week, but about things like trailers and drivers. In fact, I don't think either of us knew for sure the other was a follower of Jesus until we found ourselves grieving the loss of a mutual friend last year. (That was a "God thing" as well: sticking two sisters in the Lord in close range of a professed atheist!) But, the sender, knowing nothing of the week that had begun in our home, took the time to hear the Holy Spirit, and followed through. She sent a simple text, adding the words, "Continuing to pray for you always." Oh, my soul! The Holy Spirit had placed a heaviness on her heart, and she reached out, faithfully and gently, to encourage me. She could have prayed for me, or even made a mental note: "Gotta pray for her this week" as we sometimes do. But she didn't settle on either of those things. She acknowledge the prompts of the Holy Spirit. She prayed. And she let me know it. Not for any sort of recognition or that I might text back, "Praying for you, too!" but that I might be encouraged. What a beautiful spirit and a blessing to the Lord's name!

And I don't just want to brag on this wonderful sister, though I think I could go on, I want to challenge you as her act of love challenged me, to listen and obey. Don't dismiss those ideas. Don't make it about you. When you're standing in line at the market, watching the over-burdened mom keep her mind on her list and her eyes on her babies, and a word of encouragement comes to you -- Say it! Don't think, "I feel foolish; I don't know that person." It's about her; it's about being Christ to others; it's about listening and obeying in faith God will do something with that seed. When you've got that stack of cards your friend so lovingly crafted, sitting in a bin, envelopes empty and sentiments unwritten (as I do 😕 'cause I am preaching to myself right now) take the time -- ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty -- and get them out to people who need to hear God's peace today. Listen. And obey.

And Happy Tuesday to you all!