I'm Alive

Ephesians 2:1-10, NIV

As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient.  All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our sinful nature and following its desires and thoughts.  Like the rest, we were by nature objects of wrath.  But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions - it is by grace you have been saved.  And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.  For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith - and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God - not by works, so that no one can boast.  For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

This passage means so much to me.  I don't know about anyone else, but I know that I personally slip into legalism sometimes.  I'll do something I shouldn't do, or I'll neglect something I should do, and I'll start to feel un-saved.  It's just a feeling, but I know that if I don't counter it with scripture, it will take root in my heart, invade my thoughts, and if it continued unchecked, I would convince myself I was no longer saved at all.  My salvation causes obedience.  Obedience does not cause my salvation. 

What distortions do you battle in your own life, and what scripture do you use to contradict them?

It's Not About Me

I have a confession to make:  I have been chugging along, moving through life, and slowly, a lie has crept in.  That lie?  "I have sinned, therefor I am no longer blameless in God's eyes."  Yes, that lie really did try to find a place in me.  I wasn't aware of it; I just knew I had a vague discomfort and lack of trust.  It's only been through reading my Bible that that lie has become clear. 

Two verses really spoke to me, and are what made it clear to me that I've let an untruth start to take root.  1 Thessalonians 5:23-24 says,

God Himself - the God of peace - has sanctified me through and through.  My whole spirit, soul, and body will be kept blameless at the coming of my Lord Jesus Christ.  The one who calls me is faithful, and He will do it.

Did you catch that?  God Himself has sanctified me.  Not me.  It's not my works, it's His.  Don't let the devil sneak in and alienate you from God who loves you.  Don't be ashamed; be bold.  Know that HE will do it.

With Hope

Grief.  That thing we feel when someone dear to us, steps into eternity.  That empty, hollow, overflowing feeling.  The way the world looks gray and dull when picturing it without our loved one there.  Most of us know the ache of waking that first morning, knowing it's your first full day without him or her.  Most of us know what it is to stand there in the cemetery, waiting for them to lower someone precious into the ground for a final time. 

But not all of us know hope.  Not all of us believe in heaven and eternal life.  That is the part I don't understand.  How does a person who has no hope, grieve and then move on?  Where do they draw their strength from?  How do they reconcile the death with the eternal nature of our spirits - something we know deep inside regardless of creed?

I believe in eternity.  I believe in Heaven.  I believe that my daughter and my other children are all there waiting for me.  I believe my Gramma is there, and that as we always talked about when I was growing up, she will meet me at the Eastern Gate.  I believe my great-grandpa Max is there.  My great-uncle Elmer.  My brother.

And it fills me with hope and anticipation.  The day is coming when I'll be reunited with them all, and I will never have to say goodbye again.

So I grieve, but with hope.

Random Things

In the 23 days since I last wrote, it feels like everything has changed.  And also like nothing has changed.

Most of my writing and "sorting" has been done in my journal.  My paper and glue, use-a-pen journal.  Rather than try to recap all of it, I'd prefer to just... share.  A little bit of two of the entries.  Enough to show you what's been on my heart, enough to illuminate the struggle and the fight and to show you that even in those things, there is beauty.

---

God,
I need you.  I need you to consume me like a fire, burning away everything that can be destroyed.  I need you to change my heart and renew my mind according to Your will.  My own will is sinful and imperfect.  I love with hesitation and with impurity.  I speak lies with ease and I am afraid of the truth.  But part of me still wants to bend to your will.  My soul is weak and my body is dying, but my spirit is alive and cries out for You.  So fill me, change me, consume me.  Rewrite my script, and make yourself the primary role.

Save me, oh God, and I will be saved for all eternity.

"I Have Eternal Life"
Truly, truly, I say to you:  Whoever hears my Word and believes Him who sent Me has eternal life. 
~1John 5:24a

---

I need to go home.  To my family, to my Father, to my church.  I miss God.  I miss His Word.  I miss His love.  I miss His Presence.  And I miss my Pastor.  I miss his influence in my life.  I miss his protection.  God gives us so many people for so many things... but He only gives us one Pastor.  If something happens that makes it impossible for that Pastor to keep being our Pastor, God can give us another.  But it's not a matter of simple choice.  It's a matter of necessity and a gift born of love.

I have so much I am hiding.  So much shame.  But my Pastor loves me.  He really does.  He always will.  He loves me as a daughter.  And the pain of not being under his care, of not having a leader in my life, of choosing to walk away from that gift, is shredding my heart.

Today, I realized something.  If any of the kids in my class came to me, after being gone - regardless of how long they'd been gone or why they left or what they'd done while they were away - even if the things they'd said or done were so horrible that they hurt the deepest parts of me - I would run to them with open arms and hold them and tell them I never stopped loving them.  And my Pastor is better at love than I am.  So it is time to go home.

Lord, help me and give me the courage and strength that I need to do this.

Half a Dozen Roses

When I was growing up, I wasn't one of those little girls who longed for Prince Charming to come my way and sweep me off of my feet.  I didn't need him.  I had my Daddy, and I had my Grampa.  The loved me and cherished me and were the men who taught me what a man is supposed to be.

I was less than six months old on my first Valentine's day.  My Daddy didn't do anything for me - I was a baby, after all.  But my Grampa gave me a fancy card and bought me a single red rose.  He was my very first Valentine... and that is something that nobody else will ever be.  After my dad regained custody of me, when I was about six and a half, he started a tradition of buying me flowers - lots of them - and chocolate and a fancy card.  He did such a beautiful job of showing me I mattered and was loved and that he thought the world of me.  So did my Grampa.  Others did, too, but there is something special about being a little girl and being treated that way.  Something sweet that lasts.

But even though my Grampa was my first Valentine... I was not his.  My Gramma was his Valentine.  Their love is so beautiful, that it makes me cry.  And I don't cry.

On January 31st, 2007, my Gramma was killed in a car crash.  It has been six Valentine's days since then.  Six days that celebrate love.  Six days that my beloved Grampa has had to watch the world celebrate while his heart breaks. 

This morning, I stopped and bought Grampa a dozen pastel roses.  They are his favorite.  Red ones and white ones make him cry - red because that's what Gramma always got him, and white because that is what we adorned Gramma's casket with when we lowered her into the ground. 

I also bought a dozen red roses.  Red for love... that special love that long-lasting couples share.  That love that I saw between him and Gramma after 49 years of marriage.  Six, I gave to him.  One for each Valentine's day since she went to heaven.  He got a little teary when I explained their presence and why there were six red ones.  I didn't tell him about the other six.  I was already having a hard time holding my composure.  I forgot to remove the price tag from the cellophane wrapper.  I don't know if you know this, but at least around here, roses aren't cheap.  Especially not in the morning on Valentine's day.  And especially if you want them to be exquisite.  When he saw the price sticker, he blurted.  I blurt too.  I think I learned it from him.  He was amazed that I would spend "that much money just to say I love you to an old man."  Of course I would.  Of course. 

I left, and before I even put my car in gear, tears were starting to slide down my cheeks.  Hot, salty tears in the cold winter air.

I went home and did the things necessary to prepare for teaching martial arts, and then I took the remaining roses - six perfect red roses - and drove to the cemetery.

I sat in the snow by her headstone, staring at the words inscribed across the top.  "And Jesus said to them, ye must be born again."  I cried.  I said some things that I pray she got to hear... even though I'm not sure exactly what people in heaven do and do not have access to.  Then I took the first rose from the cellophane.  I broke the stem, because her absence has broken so many hearts.  I laid it on the black marble base, and thought about that first Valentine's day without her.  The rawness and shock hadn't faded at all yet that first year.  I took the second rose, broke the stem, and laid it next to the first.  I remembered how that second year, Derek and I had clung desperately to each other and were living in constant fear that something would happen and we would have to know the pain Grampa was feeling.  The third rose, the third stem, for the third year.  That year, Derek and I celebrated.  We celebrated our love.  The fourth rose didn't want to break - the stem bent back and forth several times before it cracked.  A thorn pricked the skin on my thumb, and I bled one bright red drop.  That fourth year, I was starting down the road I am still on.  The road of admitting how broken and how hurt I truly was; not just about Gramma, but about so much.  The fifth rose broke easily.  The fifth year.  The fifth year slipped past; nothing happened on Valentine's day.  I forgot to call my Grampa, and forgot to call my dad.  I didn't even think to say anything to my husband.  It was like that rose stem - stiff and insignificant.

The last rose... the sixth one... made me cry the most.  I cried because this year, I have watched so many who professed profound and everlasting love hurt one another.  I cried because if Derek and I have the sort of love my grandparents had... if we are that way 43 years from now... I cannot even fathom being given such a gift.  I cried because my Grampa is hurting and missing her and loving her.  I cried because I feel like she is the best parts of me.  And those best parts are not gone, but they are hurting.  The best parts are damaged and incomplete.  I cried because I've been trying since the day she died to figure out how to live in a world where she isn't... and I still don't know.  I cried because I actually thought to myself "Gramma will understand how I'm feeling.  I'll just call her..."

Six red roses.  Red roses on black marble, surrounded by white snow.  Broken stems for broken hearts.

And above it all... those words.  "Ye must be born again."

I cried because none of this pain is permanent.  I cried because I am redeemed, and so was she... and so anyone can be, if they will accept it.

Tonight, I have that heavy, tired, blurry-eyed feeling that one gets when one cries too much.  Every once in a while, I pick up my camera and look at the pictures I took.  I may share some day... but for tonight, they are mine.  The moments were mine, the tears were mine, and the comfort God whispered to my heart is mine.

When I Get Where I'm Going

Brad Paisley and Dolly Parton.  It's not that I actively dislike them, it's just... well, you won't normally find anything from either one of them on any of my play lists.

But there is one song... one song that I just plain like.  I know it's not 100% scripturally correct.  But.  It IS accurate in its message and outlook.  Focus on what is yet to come, what we cannot see, what we have not felt or heard or breathed.  Focus on when we get where we are going.

I am going to heaven.  Maybe this very same hour, maybe 80 years from now, or maybe anywhere in between.  I do not know.  All I know, is I am going there, and when I do... when I do, I will see my Jesus face to face.  I will worship without end.  I will love without fear.  I will be made perfect.  I will meet my daughter Annaliah, and all of her siblings.  I will see my Gramma's shining face, and I will walk beside my Great Grampa Max, and I will see my Grampa Jean.  I will meet David, and Peter, and I will meet Paul.  I will meet so many I've never heard of.  And we will all be there forever.  And we will all be there because God loves us. 

So for now, when things get rough and I have a hard time just living day to day, I have been listening to this song and letting it get my mind back where it needs to be.

When I Get Where I'm Going.

When I get where I'm going
On the far side of the sky
The first thing that I'm gonna do
Is spread my wings and fly

I'm gonna land beside a Lion
And run my fingers through His mane
Or I might find out what it's like
To ride a drop of rain

Yeah when I get where I'm goin'
They'll be only happy tears
I will shed the sins and struggles
I have carried all these years
And I'll leave my heart wide open
I will love and have no fear
Yeah when I get where I'm going
Don't cry for me down here

I'm gonna walk with my grand daddy
And he'll match me step for step
And I'll tell him how I've missed him
Every minute since he left
And then I'll hug his neck

Yeah when I get where I'm goin'
They'll be only happy tears
I will shed the sins and struggles
I have carried all these years
And I'll leave my heart wide open
I will love and have no fear
Yeah when I get where I'm going
Don't cry for me down here

So much pain and so much darkness
In this world we stumble through
All these questions I can't answer
So much work to do

But when I get where I'm going
And I see my Maker's face
I'll stand forever in the light
Of His amazing grace

Yeah when I get where I'm goin'
Oh when I get where' I'm goin'
They'll be only happy tears
Hallelujah
I will love and have no fear
When I get where I'm going
Yeah when I get where I'm going

It's Not Me - It's Him

It seems like most of the time, life involves trying to prove something to someone.  There are tests, requirements, standards which must be met or exceeded.  We go to first grade and our efforts begin to be graded - not based on our actual abilities, but on the way our performance adheres to certain standards. 

Truth is, it's exhausting.  And it contaminates our thinking and beliefs regarding our God.  At least, it contaminates mine, and I've seen the contamination in the words and actions of so many others that I've lost count.  Maybe it doesn't impact you.  Maybe it doesn't carry over into your faith, into the one thing that will matter for eternity.

It seems like we look at our lives, and see the short-comings, and think either one of two things:

 -"I have to try hard, do more, be better, or I will never make heaven and God will never accept me."
 -"I cannot possibly succeed, cannot possibly be good enough... I've already messed up so much, what is the point of even attempting to do any better?"

Okay.  I know what a lot of you are saying:  "No, it's not that black and white."

And you are right.  It isn't that clear-cut.  At least not on the surface.  We rationalize.  We tell ourselves we aren't being extreme so it must be right.  Do any of these thoughts sound familiar?

 -"I know He forgave me for lying yesterday, but today I did it again.  I'm out of chances."
 -"I am worthless."
 -"I won't actually make it to heaven."
 -"I cannot continue this way.  I am done."
 -"I can't do this.  What is the point of even trying?"
 -"I know this is wrong, but I am already condemned so why does it matter?"
 -"I give up."
 -"I will never win."
 -"I am captive."
 -"I am not really saved.  If I was, I wouldn't really (insert the thing you battle most)."
 -"I have to do (insert ideal that you hold in your mind and/or heart) so that I can be accepted by Him."

I don't know.  Maybe the emails, the questions, the comments that I have received represent a dramatic minority of those who trust Christ for their salvation.  I doubt it though. 

Read Colossians 2, verses 11-14 with me:

Entering into this fullness is not something you figure out or achieve.  It's not a matter of being circumcised or keeping a long list of laws.  No, you're already in - insiders - not through some secretive initiation right but rather through what Christ has already gone through for you, destroying the power of sin.  If it's an initiation ritual you're after, you've already been through it by being baptised.  Going under the water was a burial of your old life; coming up out of it was a resurrection, God raising you from the dead as He did Christ.  When you were stuck in your old sin-dead life, you were incapable of responding to God.  God brought you alive - right along with Christ!  Think of it!  All sins forgiven, the slate wiped clean, that old arrest warrant cancelled and nailed to Christ's cross.

Look at these words.  Just look.  Do you know what they mean?

They mean it isn't up to you to earn salvation.  You don't have to earn your way into favor with God.  There isn't a test or a set of standards that you have to conform to before He will love you, before you can become part of His kingdom.  It's already been taken care of.

It isn't you.  It's Him.

**Disclaimer: I am not suggesting, not even remotely, that sin in our lives does not need to be addressed.  Our actions and thoughts are to conform with the Word of God, and we are to try our hardest to make that happen.  What I am saying is that our failure to be perfect isn't what we're going to be judged or charged by.  The thing that will determine our guilt or innocence for eternity is Him and what He did.  Not us and what we did.**

But what about those things that consume us?  What about the sin that we vow every day to never repeat, and then the next day, it happens again?  What about the thoughts we can't seem to capture.  The intentions that are not pure, the fear, the anger, the hurt? 

What do we do with the things that our adversary, the devil, has stacked against us?

Colossians 2:15:
God disarmed the principalities and powers that were ranged against us and made a bold display and public example of them, in triumphing over them in Him and in the cross.

Did you catch that?  The devil, and his minions, those powers and principalities that are out to destroy us, have lost their ammunition.  They are disarmed.  No war can be won if one side is armed and the other is not. 

But wait.  Yes, this says the other side is disarmed but if we have no weapons, then how can we win?

Read Ephesians 6:17
Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God.

The principalities and powers get disarmed, and we get a sword.  Seems like we will win.  It may take us a while to figure out how to actually use the sword.  We might not remember we even have it sometimes.  But we do.  We are armed; they (it, he, etc.) are not.

We win. 

The fight is hard.  We take hits.  We fall down.  We fall short.  Our technique is flawed and our courage sometimes fails.  We may wave our white flags and we may fall to our knees, believing we are defeated.  It can hurt, it can be overwhelming, it can be terrible and frightening sometimes. 

But He (Jesus) said to me, "My grace, my favor and loving-kindness and mercy is enough for you; it is sufficient against any danger and enables you to bear the trouble manfully (successfully and with strength).  For my strength and power are made perfect, fulfilled, and completed, and show themselves most effective in your weakness.
(2 Corinthians 12:7a)

He can handle our weakness.  He planned for it.  He paid for it.  It's already been dealt with.  Those areas where we simply can not, He can.

It's not us.  It is Him.

So what do we have to do about it?  What's is expected of us in response?

Hebrews 4:14-16 answers that:

Now that we know what we have - Jesus, this great High Priest with ready access to God - let's not let it slip through our fingers.  We don't have a priest who is out of touch with our reality.  He's been through weakness and testing, experienced it all - all but the sin.  So let's walk right up to Him and get what He is so ready to give.  Take the mercy, accept the help.

I'm running out of steam for tonight.  So I leave you with this final statement:

Yes, I believe we are required to act upon what He did.  I believe our faith isn't truly faith without actions to back it up.  I believe we should live the best lives we can and strive to be free of sin.  But I also believe that when we stand before God Himself, the thing that matters most isn't going to be us, but Him.

Because it's not me.  It's Him.

Colossians 3:1

Since, then, I have been raised with Christ, I set my heart on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.  I set my mind on things above, not on earthly things.  For I died, and my life is now hidden with Christ in God.  When Christ, who is my life, appears, then I will also appear with Him in glory.

I remind myself of this today.  Today, I am not the only one missing a child.  I am not the only one who knows my child is in heaven, but does not know the color of his eyes or the texture of his hair.

I have a friend who is missing his child today, too.

It is a secret, painful ache.  One that people don't run around talking about.

"Hey, Bob, what's up?  Me... oh, well, I'm just thinking an extra lot about my dead children today."

Right.  When is the last time someone admitted such a thing to you?

That's what I thought.

So today, rather than talk about my friend or his child, I will talk about me.  Because if you know about me, you will know about my friend.  And you will know about Suzie and Matt, and you will know about J. & C., and M. & J., and S. & J., and R. and J., and T. & E., and L. & F., and so many more - and these are just people in my life.  I am sure there are just as many in yours.

There are parents who knew their child.  Who looked into his or her eyes, who stroked his or her hair, who prayed desperately to not have to say good bye.  Parents who have stood before a tiny coffin, tears streaming. 

There are parents who have paid all the fees, filled out all the papers, been approved on every level... and who must spend the rest of their earthly lives knowing their child (or children) will never come home because for whatever reason, the adoption never came to fruition. 

There are parents who met their child briefly... tiny babies, babies too tiny for life in the world.  Babies with beautiful souls and eternal spirits and no breath.  Babies who spent minutes, hours maybe, here on earth.

There are parents who have not met their child.  Parents who knew the child was on the way, and parents who didn't.  Parents who found out later, or who knew right at the moment, that a tiny life was leaving this planet and going to "a better place."

Some of these parents have children on earth, and are told to "just be thankful for the children you do have."  As if they do not have, and never had the child or children that are already in heaven.  As if one child replaces another.

Some of these parents do not have children on earth, and are told to "just be thankful you don't have to do the work of parenting.  Be thankful you can do whatever you want."  As if raising their children would have been hurtful.  As if they didn't want to raise their child.  As if pain and sadness were what that parent really wanted.

Today, I ask you to do something with us.  With these parents who have children who don't live on earth, but live forever in heaven.  You may or may not be one of these, but that doesn't change my request. 

Picture us in heaven, with our children.  Don't worry about getting the hair color or eye shapes or smiles all right.  I suspect that in heaven, these things are not going to be so important.  Just picture us together.  See that in your heart.  And remember this togetherness, in perfection for all eternity.  Remember this is what His perfect will is. 

I leave you with this... an image generated by a just-for-fun website.  If aging were to proceed in heaven as it does on earth, our children would be four years and seven months; four years and two months; three years and nine months (twins); three years and four months; and our recent twins were due in August of this year. 

Truth is, it hurts.  It always hurts.  But when I close my eyes, and picture our family of nine walking through eternity together, it hurts less.

But That's So Selfish (Plus a Leg Update)

Forgive me if I include a very brief leg update for the curious: Still scheduled to be admitted the morning of May 11th, will go home 5-7 days later. The psuedomonas turned out to be susceptible to Cipro, so I'm taking very high doses of that and Augmentin up until that morning. A "colony" of bacteria was removed by the nurse today, which will be cultured and verified as something that either Cipro or Augmentin will kill. Slurpy's working well. Pain is decreasing. There are several small eschars (areas of hard, dead tissue) and several obvious colonies of bacteria, but over all, the wound is looking better than it has since the original surgery. Talked to the doctor about some concerns I have related to the PTSD. The result? He understood. I will have a private room. I will not be catheterized and I will not be required to use a bedpan. Over all, a very productive day.

Okay. Now that that's over with, the meat of this post.

Selfishness. Defined by Webster's as either "concerned excessively or exclusively with oneself: seeking or concentrating on one's own advantage, pleasure, or well-being without regard for others" or "arising from concern with one's own welfare or advantage in disregard of others." Certainly not a trait most of us want attributed to ourselves. In fact, I don't know that I've ever met someone who said to me, "I wish I could be just a little more selfish."

I have noticed that many people, myself included, seem to say "yes" to almost any request made of them. I want to give. I want to help. I want to be selfless. If it benefits someone else, I am all for it. Even if it hurts me. I have always used Galatians 5:13 & 14 to justify myself in this attitude. I've convinced myself that i have to "do it all" because... well, because that's the unselfish thing to do. Look at those verses with me for just a moment, will you?

It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Just make sure that you don't use this freedom as an excuse to do whatever you want to do and destroy your freedom. Rather, use your freedom to serve one another in love; that's how freedom grows. For everything we know about God's Word is summed up in a single sentence: Love others as you love yourself. That's an act of true freedom. (taken from the Message Bible)

I could use this passage to try to convince you that we should do everything others ask. After all it says "serve one another in love." Right? We should serve others. In love. Because that's what we're told to do.

Let me ask you something though. Have you ever been SO busy that you cannot remember what it is you are supposed to do next? Maybe not. Have you promised someone that you'd be there for them, only to walk away with the sinking realization that you have another equally important commitment? I think that sometimes in our efforts to serve God, to love our neighbors, we fall terribly short. Not for lack of willingness. Not for lack of "yes" answers. But because we don't say no. We get so wrapped up in doing, going, and helping, that our own lives start to fall apart.

Look at Luke 6:41 & 42

"Why do you notice the little piece of dust in your friend's eye, but you don't notice the big piece of wood in your own eye? How can you say to your friend, 'Friend, let me take that little piece of dust out of your eye' when you cannot see that big piece of wood in your own eye?! You hypocrite! First, take the wood out of your own eye. Then you will see clearly to take the dust out of your friend's eye.

I always looked at that passage as sort of applying to them. You know, those other people who sit in church with you. But you know what? It's talking to me. The reason I didn't think it was? Well... I am pretty sure I would notice if I got a big piece of wood in my eye. Even if it was metaphorical, like getting entrenched in sin. Or failing to meet my commitments. Or failing to manage my finances. Becoming unsubmissive to my husband. Wouldn't I?

Maybe. If I had time to pay attention to that sort of thing. You know, in between all of the loving my neighbor that I have to do.

Face it. We cannot obey the commandment set forth in Galatians if we don't take heed to what's written here in Luke. Maybe that's why Luke comes first in the Bible? We absolutely, positively must take heed to ourselves. We have to take care of ourselves before we can take care of anything or anyone else. There is no way we can be of any earthly use if we are falling apart.

I am a very good example of this one. I got so caught up in wanting to "be better" and help people that I didn't even notice myself slipping back into the very dangerous, very scary habit of self mutilation. The mess I made is still being cleaned up (see the note at the top of this entry). And right now? I just need to let myself take care of me. I can't take care of others, can't see past my own mountain to help them. And that hurts. But truth doesn't always feel good going down - sometimes, it's bitter, like medicine. Right now, my truth is that I can't really do much for anybody else. I hate it. Loathe it. Want to deny or ignore it. Or both. But I can't. I have to heed it, or I'll wind up with not just a big stick in my eye, but an entire log jamb. And that would certainly help my neighbor, right? Well... maybe not so much.

A little bit further in Luke, it we see what exactly it was that Christ came to do. We are called to be Christians, or Christ-Like. So maybe we ought to read what He did, so we know what we ought to be doing. Read Luke 19:10 with me:

The Son of Man (Christ Jesus) came to find lost people and save them.

Well, that's simple. If we're to love people, and be like Christ, we should be out finding lost people and saving them.

I will be honest. Right now, I feel selfish. I am not out finding lost people and saving them. I am barely getting through my days, battling a systemic infection, fighting to keep my leg, looking at my 3rd urgent surgery in so many weeks. Praying that this one the last - the surgeon isn't sure it will be.

Am I a bad Christian for this? Am I failing? I've stepped back from some of the "helps" things that I usually do. I spend less time now "reaching out." I am asking others to help me. I am trying to force myself to let them. Everything in me is screaming out "THIS IS SO SELFISH."

But then I read this in Matthew. Matthew comes before Luke the way we arrange our Bibles, but this account is after the commandment to love, and after we see what Jesus came to do.

Read Matthew 14, verses 22 and 23:

As soon as the meal was finished, He (Jesus) insisted that the disciples get in the boat and go on ahead to the other side while He dismissed the people. When the crowd dispersed, He climbed the mountainside so He could be by Himself and pray. He stayed there alone, late into the night.

So. There you have it. Jesus, who was perfect, drew away for a time. He spent time alone. He prayed, and He didn't do it for just a little while. He did it late into the night. He didn't just happen to find Himself alone, either. He sent everyone away. He took care of Himself. I don't believe that He would have been able to do what He did if He didn't take this time, alone. This time to be restored and refreshed and rebuilt.

And so, while my flesh screams "SELFISH SELFISH WOMAN" my Spirit whispers, "Wisdom. This is wisdom."

Think about it... can you find a way to apply any of this to your own life? If so, please leave me a comment. I'd love to hear from you.

Happy Birthday Roy

*For more of a background, please read this post from last year first*

There is a man named Roy. He is a good man. A gentleman. An exuberant and a cheerful man. He adores his wife. Loves his children with all his heart. Keeps His God ever before Him. Can stand tall through any storm.

Today is his birthday. I don't know which birthday - I don't know him that closely. And I can't ask him. He's not really here, you see. He is in heaven.

And today, his wife asked a question that really pulled at me. "Do they celebrate birthdays in heaven?"

My answer? I don't know. I don't see it in the Bible, but that doesn't mean they don't. Maybe today, there are all of those who went on before him, and they are gathered round celebrating the fact that Roy was born onto this planet. Or maybe it's just Natalie and him, sitting somewhere beautiful. Maybe he's doing something totally other, and is cherishing a grateful feeling by himself. Or maybe... maybe birthdays mean nothing there. I really and truly do not know.

What I do know, is that I am glad Roy was born. Exceedingly glad. I knew him a relatively short time. But in that time, he didn't just impact me. I watched him impact everyone around him. His love, his humor, his smile. His voice, his singing. The way he roughhoused with his children and their screams of joy as he did so.

So this evening, my husband and I took a break from what we were doing. We sat down in our chairs, and we each ate an ice cream cookie. We prayed for his wife, Carman. For his kids. For his entire family. But mostly, we thanked God that Roy was born. That he lived. That we got to know him.

So Carman... I cannot answer your questions. But I can tell you that here in Wisconsin, Roy's birthday was celebrated.

A Funny Story With Serious Implications

Yesterday, I started running low on the narcotic I was prescribed for the pain caused by the large chunk of flesh that was removed from my shin. So I stopped taking it, and I realized that without it, the pain was... nearly unbearable. It wasn't too bad, as long as I didn't walk. Or sneeze. Or move. In between heartbeats, it was fine. But with all of those, the minor increase in pressure was almost enough to send me through the roof. I called the doctor, said I wanted to be seen because something was awry. I'll write more on that tomorrow, though, because today's post is about the picture above.

I'd like to introduce you to Lucy. That's what I call her. The cardinal, that is. Lucy has a problem. You see, she has worked hard with Mr. Cardinal to build a nest in a branch that overhangs our two dysfunctional cars. But at some point this morning - I'm guessing right around sunrise, which is when I first heard her complain, she discovered two intruders. As you may know, cardinals are territorial.

Lucy will do anything to keep any cardinal other than Mr. Cardinal out of her territory, away from her nest. She wants to protect it. She would lay down her life to give her eggs a chance. Well, these two intruders weren't like any she'd ever discovered before. I first discovered that she had this problem at about 9:00 AM, on my way to my car so I could go to the doctor. I could hear her complaining, Mr. Cardinal calling plaintively, and this repetitive smack, smack, smack sound. It was almost like someone was hitting one of our cars with a stick.

My first thought was that a child from an area daycare had escaped and was indeed hitting our car with a stick. But no... it was she. Lucy. She was using every last ounce of her tiny body and every bit of energy generated by her fierce desire to protect to attack an intruder. Unfortunately, she was unsuccessful. The intruder? Trapped within the mirror of our car. After about 30 seconds, she seemed exhausted - hopped on top of the mirror, ruffled her feathers, and looked around. Then she spotted the other mirror. On the other car. And she was right back at it.

I spent nearly two hours at the doctor's, and she was still at it when I came home. Several hours later, she was still attacking the "intruders" trapped within our mirrors. I laughed hysterically, and stood to watch a while.

I noticed that every now and then, Mr. Cardinal's voice would break through her obsessive, slightly crazy drive to defend, and she would follow him back to reality and "normal life." She'd stay as long as he occupied her, but sooner or later - usually sooner - she came back. I laughed some more.

And then I froze. I realized that I was laughing at myself.

I'm like that. There are things I am battling right now, very real, very intense, potentially dangerous things. Things that I want out of my life for good, that keep coming back. But there are other things - things that can't hurt me any more than those reflections could hurt Lucy's eggs - that I fight just as hard. I will beat myself senseless in so many figurative ways, giving all I have to defeat these reflections.

I am blessed.

I have a Mr. Cardinal. He pulls me back when I'm doing that. And just like the real Mr. Cardinal, he shows no sign of judgment when I return. He receives me with joy and gladness, eager to show me the joy and wonder of the world we live in. He points out the good things. Loves me. Shows his love. There is no shame, no condemnation. Just... love. Even though he knows I've been fighting against reflections, against shadows - things without substance - he helps me fight and holds me close when I'm done.

Mr. Cardinal and my husband have a lot in common. I am so amazingly thankful for this vivid picture that was painted for me today. And even more thankful for my very own Mr. Cardinal. I usually call him Derek or Sir though. I think he'd look at me oddly if I were to address him as Mr. Cardinal.

But most of all, I am thankful for my God. Do you know that some of what we battle is nothing more than shadow or reflection? I know, it's hard, and seems so real. It is so real. It's just that so often, it's not as bad as we think. And He gives us strength for these battles we wage. And when we finally notice Him calling us, and we run after Him.... He welcomes us back. Romans 8:1 - there is no condemnation for us. He doesn't judge us. No name calling - we are not addressed as silly or foolish or wasteful or stupid. He welcomes us, with just love. Unfailing, unyielding, unchanging, unshakable love.

That's all for today - a funny story, with some serious parallels. By the way, did I mention that cardinals have an extremely special meaning to me, and that I have been praying for God to show me one for a while now? Once again, He's done exceedingly above and beyond that which I have asked or even imagined.

The Fact of Sin - and The Gift of God

We are – by nature – sinful. I know that it’s not popular to say so. I can understand that. None of us like to be reminded of what we’ve done, what we’ve said. We’d rather keep those thoughts a secret, and it would suit us better if those whispered words stayed behind closed doors. I’m sure none of us would object if it were possible to make sure that every hidden sin stayed hidden – forever. But that’s just not the way it is.

Romans 3:23 – For all have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God.

I am part of the “all” in this verse. Are you? (hint: the correct answer here is “yes”). There has only been one, ever, who has lived a life completely free of it. That One was Jesus Himself. The Son of God. Nobody else has ever succeeded – could ever succeed – in living completely without sin. So, where do we go from here?

We have several options.

We can choose to ignore the fact that we fall short. We can tell ourselves that we are good. Maybe we’re “better” than the people around us, and because of that… well, maybe because of that, God will accept us. Maybe, in spite of our imperfection, we’re good enough. And maybe, since we’re better than a lot of people, we’re actually okay. Right?

Romans 3:9 – Well then, are we superior and better off than they? No, not at all. We have already charged (determined, seen) that all men, both Jews and Gentiles, are under sin, held down by and subject to its power and control. As it is written, “None is righteous, just and truthful and upright and conscientious, no, not one."

Romans 3:27,28 – So do we have a reason to brag about ourselves? No! And why not? It is the way of faith that stops all bragging, not the way of trying to obey the law. A person is made right with God through faith, not through obeying the law.

Hmm. I guess that means maybe we are in trouble. Maybe we really are being held captive by this sin. Maybe we need help. And maybe, if we really consider it, we really aren’t good enough.

But where does that leave us? What can we do? If we are sinners, and there is absolutely nothing we can do to change that, what hope do we have?

Romans 3:21-22, 2 – But God has a way to make people right with him… …and He has now shown us that way which the law and the prophets told us about. God makes people right with Himself through their faith in Jesus Christ.

Ephesians 1:7-8 – In Him (Christ) we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that He lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding.

Romans 5:20 – All that passing laws against sin did was produce more lawbreakers. But sin didn’t, and doesn’t, have a chance in competition with the aggressive forgiveness we call grace. When it’s sin versus grace, grace wins hands down. All sin can do is threaten us with death, and that’s the end of it. Grace, because God is putting everything together again through the Messiah, invites us into life – a life that goes on and on and on.

Okay. So, He made a way. He made a way for sin not to utterly destroy us. That’s great news, right? But what do we do with it? How do we make it work? How do we use it?

Colossians 2:11 – Entering into this fullness is not something you figure out or achieve. It’s not a matter of being circumcised or keeping a long list of laws. No, you’re already in – insiders – not through some secretive initiation rite but rather through what Christ has already gone through for you, destroying the power of sin.

Romans 3:22-25 – God makes people right with Himself through their faith in Jesus Christ. This is true for all who believe in Christ, because all people are the same. Everyone has sinned and fallen short of God’s glorious standard, and all need to be made right with God by His grace, which is a free gift. They need to be made free from Sin through Jesus Christ. God sent Him to die in our place to take away our sins. We receive forgiveness through faith in the blood of Jesus’ death…

What receiving forgiveness look like? What does this “faith” look like, and how do we do it?

1 John 1:9 – If we freely admit that we have sinned and confess our sins, He is faithful and just, true to His own nature and promises, and will forgive our sins, dismiss our lawlessness, and continually cleanse us from all unrighteousness – everything not in conformity to His will in purpose, thought, and action.

It really is that simple. If you’ve already “done this” – if you’ve given yourself to Him, if you’ve accepted His sacrifice, you already know. You know the peace, the joy… the hope. If you haven’t done this, if you haven’t accepted this gift, will you do it today? Will you do it now?

Do you believe that God is God? Do you believe that Jesus Christ of Nazareth is His Son? Do you believe that Jesus came to earth as the fully human, and yet fully God, child of a virgin girl? Do you believe that He was crucified on a cross, and He died to pay the price for every sin that had been and ever would be committed? Do you believe He was laid in that borrowed tomb, and three days later, rose from the dead? Do you believe? Will you take that chance?

If your answer is yes, I would ask that you do something about it right now. Don’t wait until tomorrow. Don’t wait for the perfect moment. I invite you to stop everything else you are doing and give these next few moments to the King of all eternity.

Will you?

Let’s pray together…

“Lord, I know I have sinned. I’m not perfect. It’s easy for me to think I’m better than other people. Easy to hope that maybe I really am “good enough” to make it without You. But I know that’s not true. I know that I really cannot do this myself. I know that I’ve messed up in the past, and I know I’ll do it again.

I’m flawed Lord. I’m incomplete, broken, and unable. Thank You for helping me to see that. But Lord, You said that there is a way for me. You said that if I confess my sins, you’ll forgive me.

I’m confessing them now, Lord… confessing the lies I’ve told, the hatred I’ve let grow inside me. I’m confessing the hurtful words I’ve said, the promises I’ve broken, and the pride I have inside. All of it Lord, I’m confessing. I don’t want to stay the same – I want to honor You.

You said in Your Word (Romans 10:9-10) that if I will believe in my heart and confess with my mouth, I will be saved. I do believe. I believe that You are the Son of God. That you died on the cross for my sins. That you were put in the tomb, and three days later, you rose again. And I believe that sacrifice paid for my sins – the sins I’ve already committed, and the sins that I know I will commit in the future.

Thank you, Lord. Thank you for loving me. For saving me. I am giving myself to you today, knowing that I can’t ignore you any more. I am trusting you to save me, to make me whole, and to wash away the stains that my sins have left on me. I know that some things will have to change, Lord, but I also know that You are with me. I know that You will help me, and will show me the way.”