Love is Here

     Another Christmas…another string of lights on pine branches, popsicle stick ornaments, cordial cherries, and broken candy canes. (They always break at our house, anyway.)  I struggle every year to make Christmas memorable for my loved ones, but dare not forget that many would greatly benefit from the amount we spend on wrapping paper and boxes to pile at the curb for disposal.  I am not one to scold others for “extravagant” Christmases, because Christ’s birth was, without doubt, the greatest extravagance of Heaven given on our behalf.  When blessed with the means, it only seems sensible to me that we would give more this time of year.  The food should be better and the songs should be sweeter.  Christ has come! 

     One cold, rainy day this week, my girls and I drove our minivan stuffed with gifts past a white-bearded man trying to thumb a ride.  To offer a ride would have been unwise, but we did circle back and give him part of our supper.  Still, as his silhouette faded in my rearview mirror, I couldn’t help but weep at how little we really had to offer and wonder if that was the only life he had ever known.  Whose child was he?  Or father?  Would my children rest in safety and warmth that night because he had fought for their freedom in years past?  Would he spend Christmas alone?  Why was I the one in the minivan?  Obviously, most are questions I’ll never know the answer to and all are problems beyond my control.  Then, across the radio, a melody reminded me that Christ had come.

     We can dwell so much on the negative, out-of-our-control things that the blessings of life come and go without having received our attention.  We really can forget that He is here.  I battle constantly with simply accepting that God is in control…that He is here!  He hears the cries of neglected children and sees the tears of lonely widows.  He feels the ache of soldiers far from home and longs to fill the souls left empty and searching for something to believe in.  His Christmas present is simply that He was (and still is) willing to be present.

     Tomorrow, I’ll visit the grave of a loved one departed.  Someone who lived a life so beautiful that even the name carved in stone brings a smile to the soul and floods the heart with memories.  Lingering close by will be that same Comforter whose presence is always “…nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.”  I’ll need Him tomorrow, just like every other day, and He’ll be there.  Though my needs are different from those of the weary, homeless traveler, I’ll be no less needy and His love and concern for me will be just as sufficient as to any other who calls on Him for help.  He is “Emmanuel…God with us.”   

     Christmas is here, and that means Christ is here…with us…all of us.   

The Music of Christmas

         By Steven Curtis Chapman   

There's a man who stands in the cold wind tonight,

And he greets everyone passing by

with a smile and a ringing bell;

And the song that he's playing,

is his own way of saying:

Love is here.  It's the music of Christmas.

And there's a lady who sits all alone with her thoughts,

And the memories of all that she's lost,

When she hears a sound at her door,

And a song comes to find her,

as a gentle reminder:

Love is here.  It's the music of Christmas.

CHORUS

So listen, listen with your heart

And you will hear a song in the laughter of a child.

Oh won't you listen for the sound of hope,

And you will hear the music of Christmas,

For the music of Christmas is love; Oh, its love.

So light the fire, tell the family to gather around,

And the walls will echo the sound

Of memories that are and will be;

And their voices, like a chorus,

will sing it so sweetly for us;

Love is here.  It's the music of Christmas.

Long ago, a baby was born in the night,

And as He let out His very first cry,

The sound was bringing hope alive.

Stars were shining, angels singing;

All heaven and earth was ringing:

Love is here.  This is the music of Christmas.

Basket Case (Conclusion)

     It is also very true that Christ could have made baskets magically appear, but it seems if that were part of the story, it would have been recorded.  It is also very clear in so many of Christ’s miracles, and even more in my personal life, that while God is certainly miraculous, He is also very practical.  An example that comes to mind is the Ark of the Covenant, which contained several physical reminders of God’s miraculous works on behalf of the children of Israel and where the Holy Spirit of God rested between the cherubim on its surface and spoke to Moses.  The Ark was a source of great blessing to the children of Israel, but it still had to be physically carried.  God gives every bit of increase in our lives, but He still leaves the planting and watering up to us.  “It is the same divine power, though exerted in an ordinary way, which multiplies the seed sown in the ground every year, and makes the earth yield her increase; so that what was brought out by handfuls, is brought home in sheaves.  This is the Lord’s doing.”~Matthew Henry 

     Wherever the baskets came from, the fact remains that several people left this desert place carrying a basket of fragments.  God’s Word doesn’t tell us who carried the twelve baskets away, but I suspect they were people who needed them.  The word “fragments” brings to mind Ruth’s “handfuls of purpose”.  Ruth accepted the handfuls of purpose because she needed them.  How much we need every fragment of God’s blessing! 

     Can I share a bit of advice with you…from one basket case to another?  Carry what matters.  “For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.” 1Timothy 6:7  We all have desert places, but God can bring us out of them with our bellies full and baskets of fragments to remind us of the work He has done on our behalf and enough to spare for others we pass along the way. 

Psalm 78:19 “…Can God furnish a table in the wilderness?”  God can.

Basket Case (Part 2)

     As they say…the rest is history.  Jesus blessed the fishes and everyone in the desert that day “…did eat, and were filled.”  A wonderful story of God’s blessings and provision, but what I love most is the next portion of Matthew 14:20: “…and they took up of the fragments that remained twelve baskets full.”  Maybe it’s trivial, but one question always comes to mind when I read this account.  Where did the baskets come from?  Keep in mind that, in a desert place, anything they carried would surely be a necessity.  I would consider food the most common necessity to man…and yet the only amount of it found amongst such a great multitude was five loaves and two fishes.  It seems strange to me that five thousand people (and many more were assumed to be present) would leave home without so much as a bag lunch.  My family hardly makes it to church and back without a snack thrown in there somewhere!  So, consider with me, and please offer any suggestions you may have about the following questions:

Ø  Did someone bring an empty basket?

·         Maybe they had nothing.  “It shall even be as when an angry man dreameth, and behold, he eateth; but he awaketh, and his soul is empty.”  I know lots of people carrying around empty souls.  Jesus can fill you!

·         Maybe the world had emptied their baskets.  “…for the emptiers have emptied them out, and marred their vine branches.”  Christian friend, be very careful of the emptiers!  Always yielding to someone else’s demands (besides God’s) in your life is a sure way to look back with regret on a fruitless, joyless life.

·         Maybe they emptied their baskets in the desert that day.  I wonder if someone there looked at their basket of “things” and realized what little worth they possessed compared to bread blessed by the Son of God.  I have so much to learn in this walk with my Savior, but one thing I have definitely found to be true is that there are things we will have to cast down to carry the blessing of God on our lives.  We read in Genesis how Rebekah “…hasted, and emptied her pitcher into the trough, and ran again unto the well to draw water, and drew for all his camels.”  Doubtless, a life with Isaac was a pretty good return on her investment of a few pitchers of water!  We all know that we must “…lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us…” and cast “…down imaginations and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God,” but I suspect that many struggle (along with me) more with the command in 1 Peter 5:7:  “Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.”  I read somewhere once that time spent worrying is time spent saying, “God is not enough.”  God help us.  God help me.

     I would be remised to side step the fact that God can also empty us.  In Ruth 1:21, Naomi says “I went out full, and the Lord hath brought me home again empty.”  Sometimes, God will empty us so He can give a much greater blessing.  While the process is extremely painful, His good will ultimately far outweigh our bad!

·          Maybe they came expecting a miracle.  Could it be that the 2 Kings account of the widow came to their minds?  2 Kings 4:3 “Then he said, Go, borrow thee vessels abroad of all thy neighbors, even empty vessels; borrow not a few.”  Sometimes faith is the provision.  I’m ashamed to say it, but this bread is the hardest for me to swallow.  Sadly, in my times of little faith, even when His hand gives provision, my wandering heart is left feeling empty.  On the contrary, I’ve looked back on the times of life when I felt fullest as almost always being the “leanest” times, materially speaking.  How satisfying the substance of faith and how much more satisfying is the thought of my faith ending in sight!  “I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness.” Psalm 17:15

                                                                                                                      

                                                                                                                             Continued

Basket Case

     Today, in my devotions, I read of the John 6 account, where Jesus fed the five thousand.  It brought to mind a lesson I taught at a ladies’ meeting a few years back, and I found myself digging out the old binder to review my notes.  Often I begin a blog not really knowing the turns it will take or where it will end up, and this is one of those.  It is my prayer that God will direct the compass needle and that I won’t fall asleep at the wheel.  It’s only fair that I warn you, though.  I may have to pull over and ask for directions.

     This miracle, unlike most Jesus performed while present in human flesh, was recorded in all four gospels, and although it most certainly would be evidence of His identity and power, He performed it because He was simply “…moved with compassion toward them” (Matt. 14:14).  How wonderful to have a Savior who is so moved!  Isaiah 63:9 foretold what great love He would possess and bestow upon us… “In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them:  in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; and he bare them, and carried them all the days of old.”

     I love to imagine the back-and-forth between Jesus and His disciples here, as they reminded Him that this was…

1.        “A desert place” (not to be confused with a dessert place, like Cheesecake Factory *snicker*).

2.       The time was “now past”. In other words, it was late and they could use some shut-eye.

3.       Their suggestion:  “Send the multitude away”.  Something tells me that, although Jesus understood the exhaustion of the disciples, this suggestion probably made His heart ache just a little.  How many times have I thought the “multitude” was just asking too much of me…when, in reality, they had nowhere else to turn?

     In John’s account of this miracle, Jesus asked the disciples, “Whence shall we buy bread, that these may eat?” Beth Moore points out in “Jesus, the One and Only” that “Christ sometimes provokes a question so that He can be the answer.”  That was, most certainly, the case here in this desert place!  Then, almost strangely, He looks at the disciples and tells them to feed the multitude.  It seems almost unfair to the disciples, except when we remember that the source of their exhaustion was from healing the sick and even raising the dead.  Hadn’t they been fed by Jesus before?  Hadn’t His command been “…freely ye have received, freely give”?  Unfortunately, the disciples were guilty of what we, so many times are also guilty of.  “…We have here but five loaves, and two fishes.”  Friend, never feel inadequate when following a command from God!  His specialty is making much from nothing!

     Then, Jesus takes the bread, and after blessing it, He breaks it.  It is so easy to release something to God when we know it will be returned with His blessing, but surrendering anything to Him to break at His will is a much more difficult task.  Matthew Henry said “As the widow’s oil increased in the pouring out, so here the bread in the breaking.”  Any life where the sweet scent of love and blessing lingers is sure to have an alabaster box in pieces at His feet. 

                                                                                                                                                                         Continued…  

The Many Blessings

     Thanksgiving was day before yesterday, and my newest niece was born the day before that, so…although I have spent much of the time thinking of God’s goodness, I thought of it on the run and haven’t felt like I had the time to put any of it on paper.  This morning, I stole a few minutes to do so.  I know it’s belated, but fortunately, giving thanks isn’t reserved for only one day of the year.

Earlier:

     As I sit here at my desk trying to do some studying, I can’t help but think of the many blessings I’ve seen in my thirty-three years.  “Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits.”  I love what the Psalmist is saying here, to remember every benefit He has graced upon me would be an impossibility.  The childhood sicknesses He healed, the memories of family and friends, the times He touched my broken heart…these alone are countless blessings.  Doubtless, the greatest of blessings is that He took the time to move on my eleven year old heart and show me my need of His salvation and guidance in my life.  The God of heaven and earth took the time to send His convicting Spirit up a West Virginia hollow to change the life of a freckle-faced, ugly-feeling girl at church camp!  I’m wiping tears at the thought.  Oh, friends, God has been good to me!

     Am I still ordinary?  Painfully so!  But, His blessings toward me are extraordinary!  To count a few…my girls just left their tree house to run next door to grandparents who love them, a naked deer hangs in a tree in the front yard (Gross, I know, but it will fill our bellies.), I’m wearing warm clothes and already have gifts under the Christmas tree.  So, today, I’ll try to not focus on my short-comings, but rather on His far-reaching.  I’m also going to pretend I don’t see the dogs rolling in the deer guts.  Lovely.    

Chicken Dance

     “Reach” screams the little voice in my head (No comments, please.), so I reach.  I stretch.  I stand on my mental tiptoes and extend every ounce of intellectual energy (Again…no comments.), and the only end result is the phrase I read on a friend’s facebook wall this morning… “I dream of a better world.  One where a chicken can cross the road without its motives being questioned.”  I know.  Deep.  But aren’t we all just chickens trying to get to the other side?  Do we really have to be so skeptical of every spoken word?  Every nod?  Every glance?  Every smile?  Every change?  Sadly, we do have to use extreme caution in a world that is seemingly growing more evil by the second, but amongst ourselves, can we please just put away the “I’m taking every little word you say as a personal attack or compromise on your part based on our/your history” attitude for the Thanksgiving and Christmas season?  And if you just took this personal, you’re totally missing the point.  It’s not aimed at any soul but my own. 

     So, that’s it.  If you’re in search of profound words of wisdom to guide you on your way, sadly, you stumbled across the wrong blog today.  The plain truth is I’m just a big, fat chicken trying to avoid becoming another smear of road kill on the freeway of life.  The other plain truth is the traffic patterns change, so I have to change to survive them.   If I dart your way (like a chicken with her head cut off), I may just be dodging a semi you don’t see. 

The Good Part

     I have a small confession.  I could spend a good hour in the greeting card isle.  I have to prepare myself and even evaluate whether I’m up to the task or not.  It’s such an emotional roller coaster!  Laughing one minute…crying the next…it can be quite pathetic, and if we’re ever out shopping together and you’re easily embarrassed, you may want to slip away to the grocery section or at least linger one isle over.  It’s a sort of brief escape from reality.  (On a side note…I think Wal-Mart could benefit greatly from making the card section a little coffee house of sorts, with benches and cappuccinos and maybe some soft music.  That’s just my opinion, though.)

     Anyway… this is my week to drive the school carpool.  On the way home this morning, I wondered, “If my life was represented on a greeting card, how would it read?  What illustration or emblem would grace the front to catch the shopper’s eye?”  Immediately, a card a dear friend sent me years ago came to mind that pictures a fifties-era woman with perfect hair and a perfect smile, standing in her kitchen, wearing an apron, holding a mop.  I can’t recall the exact words, but it said something about her spending her spare time polishing her floors to a lovely shine, then the inside read, “Help me.”  Though I’m sure the picture on my card would most definitely not include perfect hair, polished nails or heels, the gist would most likely be the same.  The caption would probably read, “Hello.  I’m Mrs. Ordinary”, and this little punch line on the inside – “My extra is apparently missing right now.  Maybe I left it in the pocket of the jeans I just threw into the washer or it rolled under the beds I haven’t made yet.” 

     My daily struggle is this:  The only thing extraordinary about me is all of the extra ordinary.  If you’re looking for ordinary, you’ve come to the right place.  I have it in extra amounts!  “Can I interest you in some mundane or seemingly trivial?  I can serve that up hot and fresh with a side of guilt over discontentment and a steaming cup of restless anticipation.  Oh, and who wants to sip on restless anticipation without a couple lumps of aimlessness?   Wow.  Sarcasm is an ugly thing, isn’t it?  To my shame, I keep heaping helpings of that, too.  Unfortunately, it makes its way off the back burner too often.

     So, like the fifties lady from the greeting card, I’m left asking for help.  Even though my emotions are screaming otherwise, I know He will help.  I know His command is for me to live for His greatness, instead of my own and to always put the eternal above the temporal.  Today, I simply refuse to be so “cumbered about much serving” that the “needful”, “good part” leaves a bad taste in my mouth.  So, my solution this morning is to put off mopping the floors until Monday, spend extra time in the Word, and go have coffee with my mom.  Since my husband is working and my girls are at school, she and Dad are the only other things of eternal value within walking distance.  Dark and strong, please, with no cream.                

Luke 10:38-42

A Hand to Hold

     There is a time (in my case, many times) that nothing aside from a supernatural word or touch from Heaven itself will break through my circumstances and doubts and give comfort to my searching heart.  Oh, to break out of my Thomas lifestyle and step out onto the waves with Peter!  To simply receive the news of His rising and believe it!  Still, it seems I can’t help but long for the touch…to move my hand to His side and feel the stab in my heart at the memory of what He endured for me.  It always seems to take the touch for me.  I have learned to weather the storms by knowing He is there, but nothing is so terrifying to me as the thought of not feeling His touch.

     On a recent day trip to Kiawha Island with one of my life-long, dearest friends in the world, I couldn’t help but be moved to look at her and mention a stroll across the waves.  She sort of laughed.  I think it was nervous laughter.  She knows me too well!  Then together, we squinted, looking as far as we could see, wishing we believed enough to actually risk the first step.  Being blessed (I use the word loosely) with a very vivid imagination, I can actually imagine myself walking on water.  I can imagine the softness of treading on a calm surface and the cool water underfoot…maybe even feeling it between my toes. 

     What I cannot fathom is stepping out without a hand to hold.

     But, Peter stepped out at the mere sight and voice of the Savior…and the conditions were far from what I described above.  I used to think that walking on water never even crossed Peter’s mind, but that he was only concerned with getting to his Lord, but Matthew 14:28 records Peter saying, “Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water.”  I think Peter wanted to walk on water because Jesus walked on water.  Most of us know the rest of the story.  Peter looks around at the wind, (There’s a message in itself.  It wasn’t the waves that scared him.) and as he begins to go under, Christ reaches forth His hand to catch him.  Peter’s passion was unsurpassed and often ended him in “deep trouble”, but no doubt, he never regretted stepping toward his Savior that day.    

     It just occurred to me while typing the last couple sentences that, though Peter stepped out at Jesus’ word, he ultimately needed His touch.  I believe it was Spurgeon who said “we never stop needing more of Jesus”.  Oh, how wonderful to know that He used Thomas and Peter both!  So, whether you're skeptically feeling (with me) for the comfort found in His wounded side or dreaming (with me) of trekking across uncharted waters, take comfort and courage in knowing you are never out of His reach.

“He shall gather the lambs with His arm”~Isaiah 40:11

Consumed

Somewhere in between 
the mundane and supernatural,

Is discontentment with myself,
And everything that's practical.

There must be something more ahead.

This can’t be all there is!

Wouldn’t the desire be dead

If it contradicted His?

If the One within my heart

Perceived its true desire...

Would He cause to cease the spark?

Or would He fan the fire?

Then the answer comes
as breezes cause the trees to sway,

And looking down at ashes low,
I see them start to blaze.

The soothing warmth and light sustained

Have left me to assume,

He built it there and feeds the flame.

O, may I be consumed!

Unity's Advance

     I have been doing an in-depth study of the Book of Esther, written and taught by Beth Moore.  I love it beyond words!  It would literally be impossible to share with you the innumerable truths and the many personal realities I’ve had to face in just these few short weeks.  If I had to sum up what I think is the whole gist of this amazing book, I would have to say it must be God’s providence.  And, truly, He has been providential is putting me in this Bible study at this exact time in my life.  Every lesson seems to resonate with me and open my eyes to what He is doing in my life.  The similarities seem astounding!  Don’t get me wrong!  Am I a young, beautiful virgin who has been carted off to the palace and crowned queen?  Umm…no.  And will I stand before the king of Persia, point my finger in the face of his most trusted adviser, call his hand at evil, and ultimately thwart the annihilation of my family and my entire race.  Since I’m a stay-at-home mom and feel pressured just placing my order at Dairy Queen, I sort of doubt it.  Even still, the principles apply to all of us and, even though I sadly see more of myself in the foolish king Xerxes and even the cruel Haman, my heart longs to someday possess a submissively strong spirit like Esther’s.

     While reading about Haman plotting against the Jews in chapter three, Beth Moore points out that though Haman presents many lies against the Jews, he supplies one truth about them.  (Isn’t that just like Satan?)  It was indeed a fact that they were “…scattered abroad and dispersed among the people…”  Beth Moore then adds that, “So much so, in fact, that they lacked the solidarity to be the threat Haman painted them to be.  Ironically, the edict would be the very thing to catapult them into the unification they severely lacked.”  That’s a sobering thought, isn’t it?  Since I read that, I’ve sat at my desk wondering what “edict” it will take to bring today’s church into unity. 

     What will it be that causes us to ultimately be forced to lay down arms among ourselves?  If a football team tackles one another the whole time they’re on the sidelines, they’re probably going to be pretty exhausted when it’s time to take the field, and they certainly will not step onto the field with reliance on one another.  Most likely, they’ll be a laughing stock to the other team and a disgrace to the school or community they were chosen and trained to represent. 

     My godson, Levi, was injured this past week playing football.  His greatest pain isn’t the result of physical injury, but the pain of watching his team take the field without him for the rest of the season...seeing them advance without him.  Being told to “sit this one out” hurts, doesn’t it?  We all go through times in life where we feel like we’ve been benched and can’t understand why.  It may be that God sees a scar that needs more time to heal, or perhaps He sees a quality in us that we would never discover without some “down time”.  You can be sure He sees more in us than we see in ourselves!   The time-outs of life are much more bearable when we focus our attention on others and how we can help them.  The sidelines are where we can learn to give selflessly.  Levi won’t be making tackles in the coming weeks, but he will be cheering on his teammates and letting them know that their effort is as important as his.  That’s what character does, and I would be as proud seeing him be a team player on the sidelines as in the end zone.  In actuality, he won’t be sitting out at all, will he? 

     I have lived a long time worried about my contribution to “the game”.  Only recently has God helped me realize that the ministry is His.  It is not mine at all.  My vision of "ideal ministry" pales to God's very real desire and possibility.  I sincerely believe that if we will all make Jesus and unity with His people our heart’s desire, God will take care of any threat to His work, and He will be glorified in every circumstance of our lives.   People moving in unity moves the heart of God.  He cannot resist coming into the midst of brothers and sisters unified in His Name. The Bible is full of breathtaking acts of God among unified believers...the greatest being that He simply showed up.  The God of Heaven was among them!  Win or lose, the fight is infinitely more manageable when we know God is present. 

     I am so anxious to see God’s Church advance in unity!  "Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves.”   The edict has been penned and published.  Throughout the pages of scripture is a call to lay aside ourselves and look on the things of others.  May we “with gladness and singleness of heart” be used by God to advance the gospel in such a time as this.

“Fulfill ye my joy, that ye be likeminded, having the same love, 

being of one accord, of one mind.”~Philippians 2:2

Every Morning

     “If I nurture the newness while I have it, perhaps, I won't lose it — at least not for something less. And if I nurture what I keep, perhaps, I won't miss what I have lost.”  I’m not sure in what context these words were written by Jan Denise, but when I came across them today, a familiar ache travelled through my heart.  It moved through quickly, since it’s been there often and knows the way like the back of its hand.  In the same way it has so many times before, it left me face down at my desk weeping over opportunities seemingly gone forever and longing for changes that never seem to come.  Even though its journey through is swift, it somehow accurately targets every insecurity and every old wound nearly healed and leaves them gaping open and throbbing again.  But God, in His love, brought these precious promises to mind:   “It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.  They are new every morning:  great is thy faithfulness.”~Lam. 3:22-23 

     We are not consumed.  Even when so much seems lost – when friends walk away, when family makes choices that break our heart, when a dream you’ve longed for from the pit of your soul is granted to someone else without a glace your way, when we feel consumed and no one seems to notice, His promise is that He notices.  That’s His compassion.  The Veggie Tales have a wonderfully simple definition for compassion.  Bob the Tomato puts it this way.  “It’s when you see someone who needs help, and you wanna help ‘em.”  Compassion goes beyond seeing the need to actually finding a way to help...because you want to.  Our compassion simply may not be enough sometimes, but God’s compassions never fail. 

     The even better thought is that His compassions come with mercies, and they’re “new every morning”.  That’s wonderful news considering “thou knowest not what a day may bring forth.”  How amazing to think that He knows and is there with just what I need every morning!  It takes a very faithful God to see to me every morning!  He never cancels a breakfast date, and even when He knows I will, He stops by in the still hours of the morning and gives me what He knows I’ll need for the day.  Isn’t His faithfulness great?

     So, does this magically cure my sadness over the “lost” things of life or remove the fear of losing the wonderful newness of a closer walk with Christ?  Oh, how I wish I could say it does, but today was a stark reminder that I’m still human and hope deferred still makes the heart sick.  The truth is that I’ve probably not had my last cry of the evening, but I know that sometime in the wee hours of night, He’ll tiptoe in to check on me and leave compassion and mercy enough to face tomorrow.

“…weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” ~ Psalm 30:5

Droppin' Rocks

     Sometime in the past week or so, I was reading the account of the woman caught in adultery in the Book of John, and since then, my mind keeps wondering back to one verse.  John 8:9  "And they which heard it, being convicted by their own conscience, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest, even unto the last: and Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst."  That's not the "popular" verse from the account.  Doubtless, we've all heard and maybe even quoted the portion of verse 7, or something along the same lines..."He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her."  We love that verse, don't we?  We should love it.  It's where Jesus, more or less, says, "Even at your best...you're not the best."  It's like the little fortune cookie paper that we stick in our pocket and pull out when we mess up and feel judged.  It's our scapegoat, and sadly, our stone we throw back in the faces of our accusers.  
     But back to verse 9.  John says here, that after they were convicted by their own conscience, they "went out one by one, beginning at the eldest..."  Those last four words have resounded in my mind for over a week now.  "...beginning at the eldest..."  Imagine the scene with me.  Can you smell the dirt and feel the heat of the sun beating down and the sweat beads gathering on your brow?  I can.  Can you feel your heart pound and your stomach twist?  I can.  Can you picture the mob?  I can.  But, don't stop there.  Can you picture yourself among the mob?  Can you feel the weight and roughness of the stone in your hand and it's edges pressing into your palm as you clutch it in disgust at someone else?  Sadly...I can.  I've seen myself there many times, but only recently have I envisioned myself as one of the first to loose my grip on the stone, hear it hit the sand, and walk away.  That sounds proud, but please don't misunderstand me.  I've only been able to picture it that way because of those last four words - "...beginning at the eldest..."  
     You see, everyone in the crowd that day had a conscience.  John tells us that.  They all knew they were imperfect.  But, someone had to be the first to walk away...to loosen the grip on their stone and leave it in the dust at Jesus' feet.  (That's all any of us are anyway, isn't it?  "...for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.")  I think it no coincidence that the first was an "elder".  The longer we live, the more we learn how imperfect we are, and the easier it is to see ourselves in another's accused, dirty, tear-streaked face.  For those of us who have been saved for many years and feel like we've lived a "sheltered" life...it is very sobering.  But it is vital!  We were not created of stone.  That is not where we began!  When you refuse to loosen your grip on something, it begins to grow into you and become a part of you that can only be removed with great pain...you become something God never intended you to be.  We "elders" have learned that the hard way.  Pardon the pun.  Get it?  The hard way?  Stones?  Anyway...
     God wants us to mature spiritually, but He never wants us to forget our beginning.  Do I feel like I've arrived?  Absolutely not!  Every day, my eyes are opening to the many misconceptions I've carried regarding myself, others, and Christ!  And, although it sounds like a contradiction, there's much joy and freedom to be found in realizing you're dust.  And hands are so much easier to lift in praise when they're free of stones! 

Free

    For what it's worth...I'm a rocker.  I love loud music!  I always have.  I think my mother conditioned me when we listened to Carmen back in the day. So...I'm posting a few of my favorite songs to walk (and rock out) to.  Some of you will be surprised.  That's okay.  Surprise is a good thing.  The rest of you that really know me will scratch your heads and wonder why I feel like I have to put a disclaimer on myself.  Here's why:  Life changes, and sometimes you wake up and realize you've been put into a box and labeled.  I'm fine with being labeled, but label me "free".

Hunger

     Just a quick note on some things I’ve been studying lately…one thing, mainly.  I guess I would have to say that God has been teaching me about hunger.  That probably sounds strange.  Especially, considering anyone who knows me, knows that I love to eat.   Still, it seems like so much of what I have read lately, in the Bible and out, has been related to hunger or thirst.  Even Altar at the supper table last night, mentioned how Samson sinned by reaching inside of the carcass for the honeycomb.  She, of course, was totally disgusted, and even asked, “Does honey come from dead animals?”  I tried to explain how it was the dry, empty skeleton where the bees had chosen to build their hive and make their honey, but she was still pretty grossed out.      

        Only the other morning, I read Proverbs 27:7, “The full soul loatheth an honeycomb; but to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet.”  Have you ever been so full that nothing sounds appealing?  I’ve been a glutton many times, and regrettably, have had to turn down something I love because I had already stuffed myself with…well…just stuff.  We do that when we’re hungry, don’t we?  Have you ever eaten something that you normally wouldn’t touch, but you’re just so hungry, you eat it anyway?  My body may be craving ice cream, but I’ll eat broccoli and enjoy it, if I’ve got caught up in the day and haven’t taken time to eat.  I think that’s what this verse is saying.  “…to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet.”  Have you ever been so hungry, spiritually, that you’ll take anything God has to dish out…even the “bitter” things?  Spurgeon said, “Send me what thou wilt, O God, so long as it comes from Thee.”  Nothingness is an awful feeling!  I’ve gone through long seasons of feeling nothing, and I can honestly say that I would rather endure the pain of trials than the pain and guilt of feeling numb to anything and everything around me. 

     So, here’s the question:  Does God want us to be full or to hunger?  I think it’s a little of both.

     Never get so full of all the world has to offer that you loathe the honeycomb!  Proverbs 24:13 “My son, eat thou honey, because it is good; and the honeycomb, which is sweet to thy taste.”  If you Google honey, you’ll see that it is used many times to dress wounds and promote healing.  The “honey” of God’s Word will definitely do the same, spiritually!   “He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3   

    Also be sure to stay hungry enough that you don’t always refuse the bitter things.  Trials and correction are never pleasant, but they’re a necessary part of our Father-child relationship.  There have been a few times I’ve come through a hard time and looked back and thought, “Wow!  That really wasn’t as bad as I expected!  In fact, I’m glad it happened, because it opened my eyes to a greater possibility!”    God recently did such a thing for me.  I’ve spent a long time running around without really taking time to “eat”.  So, God sat me down and gave me broccoli.  I think, maybe, I was hungrier than I thought.