Follow Me!

What if God told you that He had arranged for hordes of people-- angry, well-armed, combat-trained hoards to chase you so that they could know Him? All throughout Scripture, God tells Israel they are to be a light, an example to the nations of the world: Genesis 12:2,3; Genesis 18:18; Isaiah 49:3, 6; Isaiah 60:1-3; Ezekiel 37:27-28; Zechariah 8:20-23 Other nations would know the character of God by the way He has treated them, by the way they worship and obey Him, and those nations would follow them into serving God as well. But there is this place where the people of Israel are told the army of another nation is going to follow them and know their God. Perhaps you've heard of it before. The account is found in Exodus 14, at the shores of the Red Sea:

Adonai asked Moshe, “Why are you crying to me? Tell the people of Isra’el to go forward! Lift your staff, reach out with your hand over the sea, and divide it in two. The people of Isra’el will advance into the sea on dry ground. As for me, I will make the Egyptians hardhearted; and they will march in after them; thus I will win glory for myself at the expense of Pharaoh and all his army, chariots and cavalry. Then the Egyptians will realize that I am Adonai, when I have won myself glory at the expense of Pharaoh, his chariots and his cavalry.”

What struck me as I studied this, was the idea that everyone had a role, something they were to do, so I began making a list:

Moses: instruct, lift his staff, reach out with his hand, divide the sea
Israel: hear, obey; advance in faith 
God: harden the hearts of the Egyptians
Egyptians: follow Israel; know God

The Egyptians were meant to follow Israel and know God. God hardened their hearts; God planned it that way. When the nations --in this case, Egypt-- follow Israel, they will know who God is. What an image! Israel was to be a light to the nations, spiritually; but here we have this picture of Egypt following Israel-- even to a natural death --that they would know God. Do you think they got the message?

Verses 24 and 25 tell us:

Just before dawn, Adonai looked out on the Egyptian army through the column of fire and cloud and threw them into a panic. He caused the wheels of their chariots to break off, so that they could move only with difficulty. The Egyptians said, “Adonai is fighting for Isra’el against the Egyptians! Let’s get away from them!”

Oh, they knew! "Adonai is fighting for Israel." But it was too late. As Miriam, Moses' sister sang:

Sing to Adonai, for he is highly exalted!
The horse and its rider he threw in the sea!

Who is following you today? I hope, not angry hordes; but chances are there are people watching your life. Will they find Jesus if they follow? 

Or are you following someone? Are you watching someone's life, wondering why they are so committed to following their King? What is it about Jesus that makes them so confident, so passionate? Ask before it's too late.

Under His Thumb

"Hold still!" Mom would command, but I'd struggle and writhe like a fish on a hook. She was after me with that thumb again. You know the one. The one that threatened every time you were about to go out the door. The one loaded with spit and ready to remove all sorts of dirt from little faces. A comedian once said mom-spit had the chemical composition of Formula 409. Another said Leonardo da Vinci's mother used it to remove the frown that once rested on the face of Mona Lisa, telling da Vinci to try again. I vowed never to subject my children to such humiliation: I forced them to spit on my thumb and used it instead. (My less than scientific research determined, their spit did not have the same efficacy, and I sometimes wore their efforts in places other than my thumb. Food for thought.)

In James 4:8, we are commanded: Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded. I recently heard someone speak on cleansing; that's when this verse and the mom-spit thing came back to me.

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Doesn't God call us to begin with? John 6:44a says, No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him. So, yes, initially we are called to the Lord. But in those times of --I'm just gonna use the term "extreme emotion"-- joy and celebration, fear, confusion, pain, repentance, doubt-- those times when we are not at our "norm," we can draw near to God in quiet, tears, song, prayer. We can take those moments of extreme emotion, seek God differently or more earnestly than usual, and He will draw close to us. Quick illustration: Luke 15, The Parable of the Good Father. In verse 20, we are told the younger son went to his father; "but when he was still a great way off, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him." His father didn't stand there, feet firmly planted, declaring, "I didn't do anything wrong! If he wants forgiveness, he's going to have to come to me." No, he saw the son making his way back home, perhaps struggling with every step, and the father went to him. Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.

Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded. This is the part where I used to wince. I mean, James, what happened? We started off so sweet, so nice. Images of me, coddled and comforted in the arms of a loving Father. Then, suddenly you turn on me with the name-calling and the self-cleansing? What gives? Well, first of all, despite my promise to follow Jesus, I don't always do it. I mess up. And when I do, I'm no better (on the outside) than I was before I met Jesus: I'm acting like a sinner and I am being duplicitous, double-minded; I have moved away from Him. Because of Christ and His blood and my promise to follow Him, I can return, draw near again, receive forgiveness and restored relationship. That's the second thing: in drawing near, He can cleanse me, He can purify my heart. This is where the mom-spit comes in: when I fought, when I wriggled, when I darted underneath Mom's arm and refused to submit to her thumb, I resisted cleansing. In effect, I was saying, "I'm good. The purification you're offering is not for me; it's not worth what I'm going to have to undergo. I choose to walk out this door with my dirt." But in moving toward the one who was able to see my dirt and remove it, I was cleaning, bathing, freeing myself of dirt. (Like standing before a sink and a mirror which, thankfully, is what I do now. I can't get clean if the sink is running and I'm ten feet away.)

So, draw near to God, get under His thumb, so to speak; be cleansed, be made pure of heart. And leave the mom-spit to touch-ups on your way out the door.

Never Too Dark

It's four in the morning, I've just let the dog out. One of those sleepless nights for me, a golden opportunity for her. She'll sniff and explore-- but not too far, it's pretty dark out there. She's got the heart of a lion-- she really does, but something in her brain tells her there are things out there to be feared, and that something overrides her lionheart and she fears. I peer into the darkness as hard I can, as if squinting and leaning forward an inch will give me some advantage over the absence of the sun overhead. She's gone beyond any light coming from our kitchen and I can no longer see her. It is dark out there.

It's four in the morning. My brain is running amok. Will there be enough money to pay the bills this month? Will Mom be okay while I'm gone this weekend? Did I get Scott those snacks he likes? How will my doctor's appointment go? What is going on with that "check engine" light?  Life can be pretty scary-- even with the lights on.

In Psalm 139 (TPT), the writer asks the questions: Where could I go from Your Spirit? Where could I run and hide from Your face? The answer is, nowhere! If I go up to heaven, You’re there! If I go down to the realm of the dead, You’re there too! If I fly with wings into the shining dawn, You’re there! If I fly into the radiant sunset, You’re there waiting! There is nowhere we can choose to go, or wander and get lost, or even, be taken that God cannot see us. There is no such thing as darkness with You, the psalmist goes on to sing. The night, to You, is as bright as the day; there’s no difference between the two.

When the door opens, and we stick our noses out into the frosty darkness, and we give the air a sniff, and God whispers, Go ahead, get out there and check out the place I've created for you, do our brains start tabulating all the things there are to be feared? Sitting safely behind the door at the Master's feet we have hearts of lions, but as we begin to wander a little further from the kitchen light...

I've got you, God says. I'm not squinting or leaning or wondering where you are. I see you. I formed you in the darkness of your mother's womb. That freckle that you have-- the one right there beneath your right ear --I placed that there in the pitch black warmth of your mother's body. And that branch of the pear tree that always casts that scary shadow on the gate? I formed that, too. And your doctor's appointment that's got you tossing and turning at 4am? I already know the answers and I'm waiting to walk you through them. There is no such thing as darkness with Me. The light, the night-- they're both the same to Me, obedient. 

Now get your dog and go to sleep.

Photo courtesy Brandon Dewade

I'm Not a Fixer; I'm a Fixer-Upper

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a mom. I wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to be a teacher. I was brought up in a world where it was good to help people. Somewhere along the line, however, I received the message that I could help people. No, more than help people, I could fix them. I'll resist all the specifics, but I wanted to fix my mom. And my mom needed to be fixed, she really did. Mom told me her problems and I would try to fix them:

I can't take this anymore! I'm just going to pack my bags and disappear one day!

Mommy, please don't! We'll be good. I promise!

Your father's late again and dinner's ruined!

Mom, let's just eat. He hasn't been on time for weeks. Why do you keep putting yourself through this? 

I sit here day after day. It's the weekend. I want to do something, and your father's nowhere to be found!

Mom, you have a car. Just go enjoy yourself. You always said you wanted to volunteer someplace...

And on and on. I bought her a microwave. I bought her the ring and the coat and the television and all the tchotchkes she wanted. I got her a dog. I took her places. I encouraged her. I entertained her day after day at the expense of my responsibilities. Again and again I attempted to fix her. Again and again she continued, making no changes of her own. Fast forward almost forty years, Mom still isn't fixed. In fact, she's worse off now than she ever was. And I am exhausted. It took a couple fisticuffs with my own demons before I could see it: I have been trying to fix her. 

The rage and impatience I feel as her brain will not allow her to do basic tasks are because I want her fixed. The annoyance that never seems to go away is there because I've been fighting for so long and her needs simply refuse to disappear. I long for a relationship with my mother in which she is there for me, rather than the other way around, rather than the way it has been since I was a child. I wanted a mother who would teach me to be strong, not require my strength for her own survival. I wanted a mother who would impart wisdom to me, not dump her bitterness and foolishness on me. I wanted a mother who would leave me with a heritage --if not a godly one, then at least, a feminine one-- not use me to fill her emptiness. I want that mother who, though she may not be perfect, brings something to the table besides depression and neurosis. 

I want my mother fixed. 

    And I've tried with all my might. 

        And it's broken me.

But that's such a good thing! I can't fix her. I never could. My attempts to fix her were the habits of triangulation and dysfunction and co-dependence that I developed so long ago. My complete burnout was the consequence of a human being --even one with good motives-- trying to do work God never gave her to do. Be kind, yes. Decide the efficacy of that kindness, no. Love unconditionally, yes. Expect results, no. Help and encourage, yes. Become angry when things don't turn out as planned, absolutely not.

God is working in this season. I need to be fixed as well.