Praise God I Can't!

My husband recently had surgery. (It seems to me, of late, I've started way too many conversations with those words.) Anywho, it was one of those easy-breezy, same-day-service kind of things. However, it knocked him for a loop! No extended stay necessary, but the plans he'd made for the following day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after --Whelp, you get it --all scrubbed. And he was feeling really disappointed in himself. After all, he's a strong guy. He shouldn't be spending his days sitting under an icepack watching Matlock reruns. He is entirely capable. Until he wasn't.

Now, I'm not throwing shade; we all need time to heal. And, as a matter of fact, I am the person with the least amount of room to talk. I will stare the lion right in the eyes and reach for his lunch. Not because I'm brave; just because I'm defiant. I will finish my list of To-Dos only to start another list and add a few things more --all before noon. I will attempt things I should never attempt. I am capable. Until I'm not.

What I've learned, however, is that in man's economy that sort of capability is honored, rewarded; but in God's economy, not so much. Not that Scripture says we should be bungling fools or intentionally ignorant or just plain lazy. But we are to be vulnerable, humble. We are to be painfully aware of who we really are. The Apostle Paul, in 2 Corinthians 12:7-10, says he was given "a messenger of Satan," some sort of "thorn in his flesh" to keep pounding away at him; something he just could not overcome. He was incapable of getting rid of it. So, he pleaded with God to remove it. We don't know what it was, but God refused. What if it was a struggle with lust? What if it was gout? What if it was conflict with another of God's servants? Each of those things could potentially harm or reduce Paul's ability to minister. Why would God refuse? Because he didn't want Paul to be capable in and of himself. He wanted Paul, and all of us today, to seek His grace and rely on Him alone. It is in our lack, our inability, that the work of God can be put on display.    

As capable human beings we tend to resist trusting others; we forego vulnerability in favor of a "quick fix"; the certainties we can see, the solutions we invent, self-sufficiency. Even if we fail, at least we tried. But what if failure is something to be used by God for His glory? What if waiting and the passage of time is all part of God's plan? By His grace, we can wait for the glory of God to be revealed; we can see His might made manifest in ways we never imagined; we can experience the blessing of God even as we slog through seemingly impossible seasons. Our capabilities have the potential to rob us of knowing that blessing. And it is sometimes God's mercy when our methods fail, when our means cause us to stumble; for it is then we tend to regroup and turn our thoughts toward the One mightier than ourselves, mightier than our enemy. But when we succeed in our own efforts we succeed without knowing what God could have done with the situation; we succeed and become further convinced of our own capability; we succeed and convince ourselves we are well within God's favor. 

Like Paul, who gave thanks for the weakness in him that framed gloriously the strength of God, we, too, can Let go and let God. We, too, can stop looking to our own plans, our own qualifications, our own resources, that the manifest power of the One we serve might be given its due position. That many might see His handiwork. Praise God when we fall flat on our faces! Praise God when we fail in going our own way! Praise God when the season is long and the ground is dry! Praise God for the discipline of a perfect Father, one who wants to show us all He can do with the nothing we have. Praise God when He brings us to the knowledge we are incapable. That through our weakness, the Almighty is seen.

Midweek: Complete

It used to be, as children, rainy Saturdays were the worst thing ever. School all week, homework and early bedtime; but Saturday was the day for which we longed! Outdoors and endless play! With the advent of video games, I'm not sure that holds true much anymore. But in Grown-Up World, rainy Saturdays are just as good as the sunny ones. Rainy Saturdays are opportunities to clean the house and catch-up on laundry. Rainy Saturdays free us up for movie days, or pajama days. Rainy Saturdays provide the time we need to paint cardboard boxes. What? You don't paint cardboard boxes, too? Okay, I really didn't think you did, but my husband and I certainly do. During COVID, when Amazon deliveries were "essential" and boxes were plentiful, my husband began crafting buildings from said boxes so he and the grandchildren could play together. With our youngest now joining in on the brainstorming, they continue to keep me busy with commissions. This is the pharmacy; paint the windows and doors, please. Can you paint lamps on either side of the police station? The creation of our cardboard universe could go on indefinitely! The more we see and experience in the world God has created, the more ideas are ignited. As the boys play, the more they discover dearth. Mom! We really need a Wawa! (Sorry, Bud, you're on you're own there; I'm a Sheetz girl!) The more we examine our earliest works, the more rudimentary they seem compared to our newer buildings; thus, an update is requested.  

Not so with God and His world. Genesis 2:1 tells us the heavens and the earth were completed (NIV), finished (NKJV). God finished His work, and that includes all of His work. Henry M. Morris, in his book, The Genesis Record, explains the processes God employed were the processes of creating and making (innovation and integration). Those processes were completed when God's work was completed. What we witness today are the processes of conservation and disintegration, described in the two universal Laws of Thermodynamics; (at the risk of oversimplifying) in a closed system, energy remains constant, and randomness, disorder tends to increase. In short, no "big bang" of creation, as the energy of a closed system is what it is from its origin; and things don't spontaneously improve or integrate. Did your mother ever tell you, Dinner doesn't just make itself!? She was on to something there.

God is not continuing to design and craft new species. And neither is anyone else. Not that His creative juices have been exhausted or that He, by the work of creation, is Himself exhausted, but --Genesis 1:31, God saw everything that He had made, and indeed it was very good. It was very good, all that was needed, not just finished, but complete. There is no need for further creation. God's character is visible, expressed in all we see in the natural world. He is infinite, mighty, gloriously creative; a Protector fully aware of the needs of His people and fully capable of delivering. He is unrivaled at the creation game! And, praise Him, His work is finished. 

It's raining, however, and I have some painting to do.

  

A Reckoning of Blood

I'm thinking of blood right now. I know, weird; but stick with me. I give blood regularly. I like to give blood regularly; it's something I think is important. But lately, I've been unable to donate. These days, my blood, every drop of it must remain inside of me. No handouts, doctor's orders.

More than a year ago, a major trauma center in our area closed down. It was close to a city that itself, is broken and in need of healing. When it was operational, the neon lights of the center's ER were a welcome sight to victims of violence. Again, blood. Multiple gunshot wounds, and the life of a too-young man pouring out on a worn, cold floor.     

In Genesis 9, the floodwaters have receded, Noah and his family have emerged from the ark, their vessel of salvation from God's judgment, and God has repeated the order He had given the first human beings. Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth. This time there's something new: fear and dread; the fear and dread of animals for mankind. Why? Because animals are now given to humanity for food. But you shall not eat flesh with its life, that is, its blood. And God demands a reckoning:

Whoever sheds man’s blood,
By man his blood shall be shed;
For in the image of God
He made man.

The mention of blood is a theme that runs all throughout Scripture. Blood represents life. The loss of blood, the loss of life is an offense to God. He created each of us for a purpose. Westminster Shorter Catechism asks the question, What is man's chief end?, and offers the answer, Man's chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever. Our lives are not our own (1 Corinthians 6:19, 20). Perhaps that is why I believe blood donation to be so important: my blood, my life is intrinsically linked to the God who created not only me, but that too-young man whose life has been treated casually --either by his grievous decisions or by the decisions of others. My life is valued by the same God who values all the other players; the shooter, the victim, the first responders, the doctors and nurses, the frantic mother, the raging father. We are connected by blood; shed, donated, preserved and, hopefully, replenished if necessary.  

And, for those in Christ, we are joined as brothers and sisters by His blood. His blood that cleanses, atones, procures, redeems, reconciles, heals, frees, and unites. His blood poured out; life flowing from an execution stake, the destiny of criminals and the world's only sufficient Savior. His blood, His life, the only means by which new life is given to all who would stand under its fount. It is enough; it is eternal. It is the glorious display of God's hesed toward His creation. And it is blood that still today demands a reckoning and a response from every individual. What is yours? 

Chaos in Life; Character in Death

Samson, judge of Israel --what do you know about him? Well, if you've got a basic Sunday school knowledge of his life, you know he had long hair, was really strong, let Delilah get the best of him, but killed more in death than he did while he lived. But the account of Samson's life which begins in Judges 13 is not even close to being that simple. 

First of all, his mother was barren, and if we learn anything from Scripture, it's that God can work wonders with a woman labeled "barren". As such, the news she was going to have a baby was announced to her by a special messenger from God. He told her the child was to be consecrated unto the Lord, a Nazarite; she was not to drink of the vine or eat anything unclean, and he was not to cut his hair. When she relayed the information to her husband, Manoah, she confessed she'd not gotten the messenger's place of origin or name. Speaking of names, here's a fun fact: Manoah's name means "quiet, rest," but he seems unwilling to do that. He begins to pray the messenger would return; he wants to know more about how to raise this special boy. Have you ever considered the people who God places in your path? Have you ever prayed, Lord, show me how to minister to the people You send my way today? Have you asked God for the resources it will take for you to raise your children? There was nothing in this man, Manoah, that said, Yeah, I got this covered. He was chasing after whatever God was willing to give that he might accomplish the assignment he'd been given.

Secondly, the details. The announcement of Samson's birth encompasses all of chapter 13 and includes an account of what happened when the messenger did return. Chapter 14 develops the character of Samson the adult. He's arrogant, lustful, impulsive; not the usual qualities we look for in a redeemer. This same chapter covers Samson's marriage, the strange riddle Samson used to taunt his wedding party, and the giving of Samson's bride to another. Chapter 15 finds Samson using three hundred foxes to torch (literally) Philistine farms and set off a cycle of revenge that finally ends with a thousand Philistines being slain by Samson using the jawbone of an ass. Lastly, the bulk of chapter 16 records the seemingly never-ending deceptions of Delilah, an account that leaves most of us shaking our heads and wondering why Samson didn't just get himself outta Dodge before she could hire a barber. By verse 21 of the chapter, Samson is a blind slave in Philistine territory, and verse 22, renews hope with However. Something big is about to happen.

And that brings me to the final portion of Samson's life. We're told there's a celebration. We're given the words to the hymn they sang to their god. And in fewer than ten verses we're told of Samson's victory over three thousand Philistines which cost him his own life that day. Verse 26 records the words he spoke to the young man who led Samson like a dog into the temple that day, and in verse 28, we are privileged to read the cry of Samson's heart:

O Lord God, remember me, I pray! Strengthen me, I pray, just this once, O God, that I may with one blow take vengeance on the Philistines for my two eyes!

Samson asks for the ability to enact vengeance on his enemies and the enemies of God, but there seems to be more to it than that. There is an indication of repentance there, of a humility that only comes when one has been made to realize just how helpless they really are. Matthew Henry, in his commentary writes, The strength which he (Samson) had lost by sin, he recovers by prayer. In giving one's heart up to the Lord, in coming to know life in our physical bodies is not the highest end, there is infinite strength.

The details of his life are many and complex, but the simple gravity of his death surpasses them all, and not only because of the thousands he took with him. His final moments are a testimony to the strength of hearts broken for our King. Had Samson walked in that kind of surrender throughout his life, we can only imagine the return. Instead, it was his character in death that exhorts us today. May we live with humbled hearts and bring down the house while we still have more days ahead.