Resurrecting Hope

Her son was dead. Maybe not in body, but the sweet towheaded boy who held her hand on long car rides was gone. The vibrant ten year-old who loved to skateboard, and fished with his uncle was no more. The teenager who boldly kissed her cheek -- even in front of his friends -- remained little more than a sanitized memory she resurrected each time she recounted the sparse and flimsy details of his passing. She wasn't even sure the man she saw before her was any more than a stranger. But God.

For weeks, the song had topped her playlist:

"His love is like lightning
Cracking through the sky, and
Burnin' through the rage
Burnin' through the pain of a billion scars.
"Get ready, get ready,
Get ready, get ready,
All the stories are true." -- "Ghost," Crowder

A sadness would fall on her as she listened to the winsome melody. Rage, pain, scars. She knew exactly what they were all about. A lifetime of bad choices and abuse. But God.

Years before a friend had given her a word of hope. Her son would grow to love and serve the Lord. That was long before this. Before he had spent more years away, before he had said and done so many things to make his situation as bad as it was, before he hated as he did. But God.

A little girl's prayer every chance she was given. "God, please heal my family." What could that mean? What would that look like? It would take the biggest miracle ever. A twenty-first century resurrection. But God.

And then, this day. A stranger's gentle hand on hers, leaving behind the scent of flowers. "Whatever your son is today has no bearing on who he will be. Handle all things through prayer and supplication." As she left that place, she raised her hand to her face, and allowed her heart to be softened by the scent of hope -- a hope she'd extinguished long ago. She soaked in the confirmation. She dared to embrace the encouragement she wanted to disavow, the belief in the possibility of a resurrection. And she challenged herself to obey the call to prayer and faith. Faith in One who calls things that are not as though they are.

"Burning through the things
That need to be erased
To liberate my soul." -- "Ghost," Crowder

Get ready. This is God.

Emptiness At the Altar, Guilt At the Cross

On entering the sanctuary, one's eyes are immediately drawn to a place above the altar where an enormous but empty gold cross hangs. I saw it every Sunday throughout my childhood. The cross. The place where Jesus suffered and died. For me. "On a hill far away, stood an old rugged cross," we sang. The imagery of wooden splinters gouging the already raw flesh of this innocent Savior who so willingly laid down His life to save mine. In tears I would kneel before this monument, knowing the things I had done, knowing more guilt than joy. I was not what Jesus wanted me to be. I was not who I wanted to be. My place at the rail was the result of many an altar call before my twenties. I wanted to be saved, but it never seemed to "take." The magic of the altar never seemed to stick with me more than a day or two.

Matthew 19:16-22, gives the account of a rich young ruler who comes to Jesus asking what he must do to gain eternal life. In answer to His question, Jesus tells him to keep the commandments. The young man replies (I've paraphrased), "I've been keeping commandments since I was a kid, but it's not working. I still feel empty." I know how he felt. I was going to church. I was memorizing Scripture. I was writing my check. I was being a good girl. And still, I was empty. I accepted every invitation to know Jesus as my Savior, each time telling myself, "This time I've got it. This time it's for real." With every failure, I became convinced I wasn't saved after all. Salvation just wasn't in the cards for me. (Well, it wasn't in the cards, but it was certainly in God's plan.)

I don't remember where or when I first heard the term "rededicating your life to Christ," but it gave me hope. "There are others like me, those who've tried to be Christians, but have failed, those who need to come back to Jesus. I haven't been 'unsaved,' I've just needed 're-commitment.'" Rededication would fix me. Back to the altar I went, but with a new perspective: I am saved, I do belong to Jesus; I'm just backslidden." But after more than a time or two, nothing changed; I finally gave up trying. Completely.

The life I'd been living was a set-up for failure, a trap. And I'd fallen right into it. I believed salvation was something I did. I knew Jesus existed, I didn't want to go to hell, but my view of Jesus ended at the cross. He died so I didn't have to; I should appreciate His selfless gift so much, I would adore Him and want to be good for Him, right? The more good I did, the better person I would grow to be. But every time I sinned, relapse and discouragement. The fact I found no joy in my "Christianity" brought even more guilt. I was one of Satan's great legalistic success stories. Good enough to think I was okay; wrong enough to stay holed up in my secret tomb of shame and defeat.

But the cross is nothing without the resurrection. Jesus' resurrection proves He was worthy to take our place on the cross. Jesus' resurrection is the guarantee we have new life in Him. Jesus' resurrection was enabled and accomplished by the very same power we have, in Christ, to overcome whatever comes before us. Jesus' resurrection establishes the hope we have in heaven. The only emptiness that exists in the presence of hope is the emptiness of the tomb. Jesus' answer to the rich young man was to sell all he had, start from scratch, abandon the trappings of life on this planet, and simply trust Jesus. In my case, starting from scratch meant talking to a Christian counselor, dealing in a biblical way with some personal issues, and being willing to risk all I had to be whole in Jesus. No matter what I lost -- and I did experience loss -- I gained life. Not only because of the cross, but because of Jesus' resurrection.

The cross was not the problem, but my focus on it was an incomplete view of a completed work. The altar was not the problem; it's "magic" existed only in my do-it-yourself brand of salvation. More than anything I needed to know Jesus -- His whole story -- and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings (Philippians 3:8-11) Only then could I experience the fullness and victory of a life lived in Him.

Do You Know Jesus?

"I know Jesus." It's a pretty bold statement. Or maybe it's a pretty crazy statement. How do you know someone who walked the earth -- the other side of the earth -- almost two thousand years ago? How do you know someone you've never actually laid eyes on? Well, I know Him because He is God. Because He is God, manufactured timetables have no hold on Him. He is not bound by the elements of time or space; so where He walked (past tense) does not limit where He walks today or my ability to know Him. His ability to appear right before my eyes is not in question; because He is God, He can do as He chooses. It is, however, my ability to see Him that depends on my willingness and my observation. And as for His death, He was physically resurrected that I might be completely resurrected (once in spirit, once in body); a resurrection that guarantees mine. And yet, it is because of my resurrection I am most assured of His life, the finished work of His death, and the veracity of His resurrection.

One of my most gracious coworkers once paid me the highest compliment I could ever receive. She said, "When it comes to Christians, you are the real deal." She had grown up in the church, had met her share of "religious" folk, and had little time for those who served on Sunday but had no compassion by Monday. She could see there was a difference in me (not because of me, but because of Jesus in me) from those who say they believe in Jesus but don't necessarily know Jesus.

This past week, a coworker was talking about a family member, "He goes to church; he's a believer like you." What do I do with that? James 2:19, says, "You believe that there is one God. You do well. Even the demons believe -- and tremble!" Does he know Jesus? It is a person's knowing of, not knowledge of, Jesus that determines the relationship. It is that knowing that allows us to walk, talk, pray, give, live differently from the demons. It is that knowing that gives us freedom -- the freedom to do the impossible and unimaginable, to stand tall in the face of danger, to be joyful in dire circumstances, to grieve with hope.

Another coworker, claims to be a devout atheist. He is known for pushing the envelope personally and professionally, and thrives on upsetting people. When he comes at me with his antics and his ribald statements, he usually leaves empty-handed. Our relationship is not about me or what makes me comfortable; for now, at least, our relationship is about him, a soul crying out for the One who completes him. He does not have what it takes to be whole; he does not have all those gifts and talents that come with knowing Jesus. For now, he is in need of attention, of notoriety, of a reaction from others; he is doing all he can to count for something, but he is a person, deeply loved and designed by the God of the Universe. As one who knows Christ, and possesses every spiritual blessing in Christ Jesus, I want to be the picture of grace and love that Jesus is, that this coworker and the rest of the world may say, "I know Jesus."

How much do you know about Jesus? Did you hear about Him in church as a child? Do you possess volumes of knowledge about His life, His death, His resurrection? You do well. But are you able to say, "I know Jesus"?

Success Is Not What We Think

The story goes, Mom chose to name me "JudiLyn" because she thought -- and I quote -- "it would look good in lights one day." I always assumed she meant a Broadway marquis, but perhaps she imagined I'd own a used auto lot or something. I think Mom had visions of grandeur when it came to her children -- and, what mom doesn't? But Mom's idea of "grandeur" always seemed to be a little different than mine. I always wanted to teach and to help others. I had a love for all things science, and I loved!!! to write. But more than anything else, I wanted to be a wife and mother. I dreamed of a happy little home, with lots of dishes and dusting to be done, a handsome husband to cook for, and a whole flock of children playing in our yard. To me, that was a dream come true. (Feminists all over are checking themselves into psychiatric facilities after losing their minds over that idea!)

How different is our idea of success, compared to our Heavenly Father's? Isaiah 55:8-9, tells us:

"'For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Nor are your ways My ways,' says the Lord.
'For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways,
And My thoughts than your thoughts.'"

Modern western society promotes two working parents, or one parent who works so hard they tend to be out of touch with most of what is going on in the home. In our society, we have expensive resort vacations for the entire family, and even lavish destination reunions. The pressure is on to buy our children the best and the latest, to enroll them in the finest schools and ensure they try out for as many extracurriculars as humanly possible. We have vacuums and vehicles that drive themselves, and we still don't have enough time in the day to relax. And what of twenty-first century American relaxation? Spa weekends and golf weekends, countless hours of binge watching, she sheds and man caves, cars and bikes designated strictly for recreation -- even our relaxation is expected to be over the top. Success is measured by just how extra we can be. But God...

Philippians 2:1-11, paints a completely different picture of what it takes to be important, exalted and above all others:

"Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross. Therefore, God also has highly exalted Him and given Him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth, and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."

"No reputation...the form of a bondservant...humbled Himself and became obedient." Do we tell our children that "no reputation" and "humility" are the things to shoot for? But Jesus was exalted. His incredible appearance as a man -- what a downgrade that was! -- earned Him a place in which His name alone was above all others. "Let this mind be in you." All He was owed, all He forsook -- His lowliness and obedience exalted Him, and we should follow His example. Very different from what our culture claims is the real path to success.

Paul prayed three times for something he considered a "thorn in the flesh." God refused to remove it: "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness." The weaker we are, the more God's strength is able to fill us. The more we relinquish, the more God has to grab hold of. It was within the constraints of Paul's surrender and deep need for his Savior that God found a place to prosper Paul in his work. Real success, the success that is defined by God can only be experienced by doing things His way.

It might be written in lights, or across the sky, or on our nation's currency, but above all else, make sure your name is written in the Lamb's Book of Life, and live a life surrendered to Him. "And He will lift you up."