Stupid Satan

Satan is depicted in the Scripture as a serpent and a roaring lion.  He is described as a liar and a deceiver.  He is sly and cunning and stupid.  Whoops!  Maybe that last adjective is not Scriptural, but it is appropriate, nonetheless.  The basis for the observation is found in the story of the Temptation of Jesus.  It is one well remembered.  It is told by the first three gospel writers.  After His baptism the Spirit leads or drives Jesus into the wilderness where He does two things.  He is tempted by Satan.  And, He fasted.   It is surely a moment when Satan miscalculated.  If he figured Jesus would be easier prey because He was famished, he was wrong.    

A person who is fasting is not in a weakened spiritual condition, but a stronger one.  A fast brings the one fasting to a place of having an intense desire for God.  Such a person longs not for food, but for a deeper awarness of the presence of God.  While I am no expert on fasting, it is a discipline I have entered into a few times.  My fasts were not of the forty days and forty nights variety, but more like between Maundy Thursday Communion and Easter Sunrise.  They never were as long as they might have been, but long enough for me to be aware that the end result was a hunger and thirst for God.   

Whenever we are hungry and thirsty for God, we are not in a weakened spiritual position.  We are actually more likely to be able to rebuke the tempter than we are in the ordinary moments when it seems that we have everything under control.  Remember, too, that Jesus said, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled."  (Matthew 5:6)  Satan was stupid to think a physically hungry Jesus was easy prey.  He was instead in a position of greater strength as are we when we come to a place of deep desire for God.  

Wilderness Moments

As we walk the journey of faith, it is often the case that we find ourselves in a spiritual wilderness.  Even as a wilderness may be dry and barren as in the case of a desert, or so overcome with growth and foliage that no path forward seems clear as is the case of a deep forest, so is it when we enter into a spiritual wilderness.  Maybe "enter" is the wrong word for none of us willingly walk into such a place in our spiritual journey.  It is more like we find ourselves being dropped into such a place, or, perhaps, much to our surprise led there by the Spirit.    

Jesus was a man who knew about the wilderness.  The first three gospel writers all tell us that Jesus was led by the Spirit into a geographic and spiritual wilderness immediately following His baptism in the Jordan River.  The language is more than interesting.  Matthew wrote, "...Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil."  (4:1).  In an even more forceful way, Mark wrote, "...the Spirit immediately drove Him out into the wilderness."   ((1:12).  And finally, Luke wrote, "Jesus...was led by the Spirit in the wilderness..."  (4:1).  A logical conclusion is that we should not be surprised by such times in our spiritual walk and that it could speak of the intentional will of God for us in that season of our life.    

And while there might be a number of reasons for God pushing us into a spiritual season we would not choose, it is certainly true that the wilderness speaks of diminished resources upon which to depend and a time of such solitude that there is no one to give us support and presence but God Himself.  Thus, as strange as it may seen, those dry seasons in our spiritual life may be seasons of renewal that are prepared for us by God.  They can be seen as seasons in our journey in which we are drawn once again to the core reality that those who seek to walk with Christ must depend on no one else.  

Birthday Musings

Counting years must be important.  Genesis tells us the story of many of God's faithful and always their story ends with a notation about the number of years lived.  Today I count 75.  The day was marked with a moment of coming home after a week long road trip with one of my grandsons to see my sister in Texas.  While it does not sound like much of a party, I counted the arrival as a wonderful gift.  It was coming to the one place in the world where I know what it is to belong.  It was coming to a place which God has used this past thirteen years to bring me to a new awareness of how He is present in my life and in the world.    

It also brought me to place which until so very recently was shared by my wife of 53 years.  A few months ago her spirit was taken from a failing body and brought into another place that was prepared for her.  The counting of her days on this earth are done and mine have not yet been finished.  What none of us know is the number of years that will be granted to us.  Her days in this place are done and I still have days in which I shall call this place home.    

Like the counted years, places are important in the Biblical story, too.  All those men and women of God whose life story was told and whose years were numbered were always associated with a place.  They did not just roam and meander .  They had a home.  They had a place on this earth where their lives were to be lived.  They had a place where they belonged.  Today as I saw the front porch filling up the front window of the car, I was grateful for this place which is my home.  And tonight as I find myself between my 75th year in this place and the eternal place Christ has promised to prepare for me, I am grateful for what is here around me and for what is still to come.  

The Invisible Ministry

An invisible ministry of the church is the ministry of prayer.  When it goes off to some distant part of the world to do mission work, or when it stands behind a counter serving food to the hungry, or when it gathers for worship, the church stands in a way visible to the world.  When it prays, as it must if it is to be faithful to its mandate, no one sees and quite often no one gets excited.  The last chapter of James is one of those Words from the Scripture which make it clear that prayer is not an option for the church, but a part of its divine mandate.  

A church that does not take seriously the work of praying is destined to become a powerless and empty church.  It is always interesting that when we encounter someone who is sick or struggling and in need of prayer that we will finally say, "I don't know what to do.  All I can do is pray."  We phrase our words as if there are surely more important things we could be doing than praying when the exact opposite is true.  When we pray the prayers from our own heart and when we pray the prayers of the church, we are kneeling in an intersection made by raw human need and the unleashed power of God.  At such an intersection there in limit to the possibilities which are unfolding before us.   

When we are asked by some sufferer to pray, we are being asked to do the most important work.  It may not be a work that is visible to our need to be involved with some helpful act of service, but it is an invisible ministry which might be likened unto throwing a stone in a lake.  Even as we can never see where the last ripple touches, so is it true that we cannot see where the rippling effects of our prayer ends.  

Messed Up Plans

Sometimes our plans just do not work out.  I can remember times when I tried to make something work out which seemed to have a mind of its own about cooperating.  I went to one church planning to help the church build a building that ended up being built two pastors later.  I remember numerous journeys that got delayed by road construction, or storms, or taking the wrong turn.  Such smaller moments should not surprise us since life itself seems full of plans that do not work out as we figured they should work.   

What we often forget about our delayed journeys is that the arriving is not as important as the going.  Life teaches us on the big stage of life that the important part is not the destination, but the journey.  When we live contrary to that truth we end up getting wrapped up in ourselves and unable to see the who and the what of the present.  It is always true that present is where life is lived and where God is experienced.    

A memory that is often recalled involves a time some fifty years ago when what I had planned to do got messed up by a snowstorm.  I ignored both the storm and the awareness that God had something else He wanted me to do.  I have always wondered what I missed.  I have always wondered what God had in mind that I chose to ignore.  When plans go awry as they do often, it is always good to take a deep breath and accept the reality that our plan might be Plan B instead of Plan A which exists in the heart and will of God.

Getting Old

I have reason to believe that getting old is not all it's cracked up to me by those who wax eloquently about the best is yet to be.  My body does not respond as well to what my spirit wants it to do.  It creaks and cracks.  It moves at a slower pace and getting down is avoided as much as possible because getting down means getting up.  Getting old is not for the fainthearted!   

But, it is not a destination as dismal as it might seem to be.  To be old is to know the blessing of accumulated years.  It is to know the blessing of a memory that journals the journey, records the moments of greatest joy and laughter, and declares that life is good even though it has knocked us to our knees more than a time or two.  

And, if we are truly blessed.. old age enables us to live immersed in a river of gratitude.  It is true enough that an old body speaks to the reality of life winding down, but then, the body was not given to us in the same manner as the soul.  The body is made for the dust, but the soul is made for eternity.  Maybe getting old is not so much about regretting the decline of the body so much as it is about relishing life as an old soul who is edging toward the fulfillment of the plan of God put in place at conception which is eternity.

A Journey

The Celtic saints of centuries ago embraced a tradition of journeying of going to "know not where."  It was modeled after Abraham who heard God calling him to go on a journey without knowing where the journey would take him.  The Celtic saint would set out in a round wooden frame boat covered with hides and without a rudder or an oar would push off shore believing that God would use the wind and the current to bring him to the place where his new life would begin.     

They called that place the place of their resurrection which simply meant that God was going to bring them to a place of new beginning,  Sometimes the embarking was sad because it meant leaving a beloved land and dear friends.  But, regardless of the cost, they were willing to set out as an act of devotion to God.  If we are careful to look at what God is doing in our own life, we may be able to see that we are being called to such a journey.  

It may not be a physical one which changes our geographical setting, but an inner journey which brings us to an awareness that God is seeking to make Himself known in a new way in our life.  It may also be a time of being made aware that a life time purpose is being changed into something never before considered or seen.  As we become aware of the call to go to "know not where," we can choose an attitude of hanging on to what has always been, or we can dare to turn loose of the controls and find out where the wind and current of the Spirit is seeking to take us.

Missed the Mark

I was on my way somewhere and running late when I passed him there on the side of the road.  He was sitting in the knee deep weeds.  The parable of the Good Samaritan flitted across my mind so I pulled over, turned around, and went back to ask if he needed help.  It was already getting hot, he had walked a couple of miles on his way to town, and was dizzy is what he said to me through the open window.  So, I told him to get in and I drove him into town.    

But, before the applause gets too loud, there is a confession which needs to be made.  It was not love which turned me around to be his helper, but guilt.  Of course, what motivated me was not a real concern to the worn out guy sitting in the weeds, but it was something for me to consider.  It was a Sunday, I thought about the parable, and not wanting to be like those guys who passed by the man on the side of the road, I turned around.  If why we do things is more important than what we do, then I failed the Sunday morning test.    

It seems like there is a verse of Scripture which might have some bearing on my morning act of kindness.  "If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but I do not have love, I gain nothing."  (I Corinthians 13:3)   I did the good thing, but what I know is that I did it for the wrong reason.  And, so while the guy on the side of the road counted it as good, I am not sure how it registered in the acounting book which really mattered.  I might have gotten an "Atta boy" from some reader, but I am not sure I got a "Well done, good and faithful servant"  (Matthew 25:23) from the One who really counted.  

A Pillar of Salt

There are many notable women mentioned in the Old Testament story.  Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, Zipporah, Miriam, Esther, and Ruth are a few of them.  Another who is well known but has no name is the woman known simply as Lot's wife.  As they were escaping the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, she did what she was not supposed to do.  She looked back.  "But Lot's wife, behind him, looked back, and she became a pillar of salt."  (Genesis 10:26)  She became a salt lick for the critters of the wilderness and when the licking was done, there was no longer any sign of her.     

It is a story which has been told in many different ways by preachers of the Word.  Esther De Waal wrote in one of her books, "Lost in Wonder," that Lot's wife was turned into a pillar of salt because she cannot stop gazing at what she has lost.  She goes on to write that we have a choice between walking forward or looking back and clinging to what is no longer there.  As those who have often tried to go forward while looking in the rearview mirror, we know the disaster which overcomes us when we let the past become more important to us than the present.      

It is the present where we are intended to live and not the past.  When we seek to live in the past, we may not turn into a pillar of salt, but we do become immobilized which is one of the things this wilderness salt lick could symbolize. The past may give us memories that can be like a box of demons or a chest of great treasures, but it is not the place where we are to live.  God does not make Himself known to us in the past, but in the present.  It is in the present part of our life that we know His blessings.  He never called people who walked the pages of Scripture to go back.  He was always calling them to go forward which is what He is still doing with you and me.

Today's Story

Each day has its own story to tell.  And even though we are the one writing it and even though it is in a sense our own story, we have little literary input.  In other words we do not know which direction the story line will go even as we do not know what tale the last chapter will tell.  We may think we know as the day begins for some of us are meticulous planners, but the story the day tells is up to God.  He is the One who has created us, He is the One whose light and strength sends us out each day, and He is the One who knows even before it is writtten the story our life will tell today.   

It is best to live softly.  It is best to live without demanding that the imprint of our ego be on everything we touch.  It is best to be there in the story being written each day, but to be there as one not really requiring to be seen under the spotlight.  It is best to rise each day with a sense of wonder at what God might be about with our life in the day that is about to unfold.  It is best to be willingly adrift in that river which flows filled with the plan of God.    

Those who live best among us are those who live in abandonment.  They live without such an attachment to their life that they cannot give it up.  Their lives hold them, but they do not hold too tightly to their lives.  Life is not something to be possessed, but something to be given as a gift back to God.  These are surely the ones among us who have learned the joy of living within the Word of Jesus who said, "...do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or what you will drink, or about your body what you will wear."  (Matthew 6:25)

New Light Switches

Being a pk (preacher's kid) and the father of two pks, I know a lot about moving from one parsonage to another.  It is the Methodist way.  We moved on Wednesday or Thursday with our grief over leaving a place full of memories and showed up at church on Sunday with a smile as big as east and west so that folks were aware of how good it was to be in a new place full of strange people and an uncertain future.  We learned how to say good bye quickly and to say hello even quicker.  We were given a few days to grieve over the loss of the past, but only a few.    

It would be a wonderful thing if it was that easy to deal with loss in our life.  Of course, we all deal with loss.  It may be the loss of home in a moment of moving, or the accidental loss of something full of sentimental value, or the loss of a job, or the loss of someone we love.   Whenever we experience loss in our life, it is like walking into a new parsonage, or home.  The light switches are not where they used to be.  The rooms are not in the same place.  Household things work differently.  The walls are bare and the moving boxes are stacked to the ceiling.  The order that went with the old has been replaced with the chaos of the new.    

Though it does not happen right away the new slowly gives way and becomes like the comfortable old.  The chaos is replaced not with the same order as the old, but with an order which goes with the new.  But, it takes time.  The process happens, but it cannot be hurried.  So, it is with the moments of grief in our life.  For a long time we will not know where to find the light switches, but one day we will know again.  The good news is that as we stumble around in the dark, God will help us find the new light switches and create a new order out of the chaos.  .  

Breaking Chains

A most recent read reminded me of something I already knew.  In fact, it is something I was told to do when I left the pulpit and came to the farm thirteen years ago.   Shortly after getting settled into this new place and season of my life, the Lord spoke saying a very simple Word.  "Pay atttention," is what I heard coming up from within my spirit.  And while it was no thundering voice of the Lord such as Moses surely must have heard on Mt. Sinai, it came, nonetheless, and was in retropspect more like the holy voice Elijah heard on Mt. Horeb that was wrapped up in the silence.  The bottom line was that I knew it to be the voice of God.    

So, here I am reading a book some thirteen years later and finding myself being reminded of a word that has been like something blazed across the front door of my spirit.  In her book, "The White Stone,"  Esther De Waal wrote, "...life must be lived in the present moment.  The past is past, I must let it go; the future is unknown, the only reality lies in the present."  I should have not been so impacted by a word I already knew, but I realized such was exactly the case as I wrote those lines in my journal.  Sometimes we discover that it is a long way from our head to our heart.    

Many times we find that it is not the very old stuff in our life which binds us, but that some recent loss can be like new chains which seem so strong they will never be broken.  I am grateful that no chains have such binding power.  We may be held for a moment by what seems unbreakable and forever, but God keeps calling us to pay attention to what He is doing in the present moment of our life.  He does not resign us to the chains of the past, but is beside us to help us at the right time to break free so that we can start living again the days He is giving.  Sometimes the past holds some memories we would like to forget and sometimes it holds memories we do not want to turn lose, but the past is not a place where going after God will allow us to stay.  To pay attention to the holy of the present is surely the key to breaking those chains which immobolize us.  

Trust in the Storm

The rain has been gently washing the earth today.  There are some places where the wind has released its fury creating fear in those who wait and watch and hope.  The Creation is a part of the created order which always seems to be in process.  It is never static.  It is mostly constant, but always full of the unpredictable.  Even now in the time it has taken to write these few lines, the gentle rain has turned into a furious blowing threatening torrent.  What is going on outside appears like a prototype of the way life unfolds before us.

There are times when we move along in ease and comfort and then suddenly there comes something with an uncontrollable power which threatens the security in which we have allowed ourselves to live.  As one who has preached for a life time and heard more than a few sermons, there is one which has always been remembered from the mid '70's.  "Life is fragile,"  the preacher said enough times and with enough force to stick permanently in this memory I have carried with me all these years.  It is an obvious truth understood by anyone whose world has been unexpectedly shaken to the core, but one also mostly ignored as we rush along thinking that we are the one in charge of what we know as our life.    

There is really only One who is in charge and it is not anyone of us.  When the last remnant of the storm has blown away, those of us who are still standing know that we do so by the grace of God and not because we have built stronger and better security systems.  There was nothing I could do a few moments ago when the gentle rain became a blowng storm, but trust in the God of Creation to bring me through this storm to tomorrow's sunrise, or to bring me into the room where the Light shines bright.  Those who trust in Christ have learned to live inside the truth of that Word of the Apostle Paul, "If we live , we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's"  (Romans 14:8) 

Traveling the Road

When it came time for Jesus to step out visibly on the stage of history, we do not know from whence he stepped.  He could have still been in Nazareth tending his father's carpenter shop.  He could have left that shop and become like some hermit cave dweller with a religious group known as the Essenes.  Some say there is little we know about those years between his boyhood Temple appearance and his appearance at the Jordan River where He was baptized.  Actually, to speak of the little we know is an overstatement.  We actually know nothing about those years.  What we say we know is mostly educated guessing and speculation.    

One of the things we do know is that when He made the decision to go public and begin His Kingdom work, He almost immediately gathered a small group of men around Him.  Known as the Twelve Disciples, they were the ones who enabled Jesus to travel the road with companions.  They may not have always understood Jesus, but they were the ones who Jesus chose to stand alongside of Him.  The road of the Kingdom was not a road He chose to walk alone, but one He chose to walk with a small group of men close at hand.   

It is a sure reminder to us that we are not meant to walk the road of faith alone.  We need other people to share the journey with us.  It may not be as many as twelve, but we do need one, or two, or three, or ever how many God gives to us.  If we have a few faithful and trustworthy friends with whom we can bare out soul, we are blessed beyond what we can measure.  When the path gets rough and way too dark to see where we are heading, it is good to be able to reach out and take the hand of someone who is still walking with us.  And, it is also good to be there with another when we can provide the needed hand.  

The Journey Home

It was after supper, dark was not far away, and I was so far from home it seemed like I was in another land, but still home seemed to be calling.  It was not that I felt like I wanted to go home, but that I felt like I needed to be home.  It had been a wonderful day of being with old friends and the conversation around the evening meal was lively, but in the midst of it all, I felt elsewhere calling.  Without really announcing my intentions I got up knowing it was the first step of a six hour journey home.    

As I drove through the approaching and arriving darkness, I went winding through towns that were not my own, I saw lights in houses which were not the lights for which I was searching, and I saw people going about their way before they went home, but they were not my people.  I was looking for a town where I was known and for a home that burned lights I had left burning to help me find my way back to the place I belonged.  On this the second day since that journey a book called "The White Stone," by Esther De Waal came in the mail as a gift from a friend.  In it she quotes from another who says, "It is true: houses shape people, and in return people shape their houses.  For houses have a life force.  They offer more than shelter; they offer securitiy, stability, a sense of sanctuary."     

When I left that supper table filled with old friends, I was longing for that sanctuary, that place where I knew I belonged, that place which held my life within its storied walls.  God gave me this place some thirteen years ago.  It is for me the most precious place on earth and if I traveled to the seven wonders of the world and beyond, it would still be the small spot on the earth that would beckon me as the end of the journey.  Our homes are in so many ways a prototype for the Home being prepared for us by the One we know as Savior and Lord (John 14:3).   One day we will see the Light that burns in that place and we will know we have finally made it Home.  

Black or Gray

There are times when we unexpectedly run into a Word from the Scripture that puts us in the re-read mode.   When Isaiah 46:3-4 showed up in my line of vision, I did not know whether to say "Amen!' or "Yes!" or "Thank You, God!"  Either one of the three would have been appropriate.  "Listen to me,...who have been bourne by Me from your birth, carried from the womb: even to your old age I am He, even when you turn gray I will carry you.  I have made you, and I will bear; I will carry and will save you."  Maybe "Wow!" is a better word.     

It is a Word largely lost on so many in our day.  We forget the reality that what is in the womb is being wonderfully made and formed (Psalm 149:14).  Before our mother is able to feel any movement within her, the imprint of the hand of our Creator is molding us as surely as a potter takes a lump of formless clay and makes the invisible, visible.  But, the part of that verse from Isaiah which really shimmered in front of me on the page was the line about the gray hair.  I have had black hair and lots of it.  I have had gray hair and now the black and gray is a memory as I see that white haired guy in the mirror each day.  And as surely as God cared for me and carried me in the womb, so does He care for me and carry me in these days so far from the beginning.     

While I have never really doubted that the care of God is not based on being youthful in appearance, it is good to read a word that brings a reminder that the old are as valuable in the eyes of God as the very young.  It is not a message we hear often in the world around us which is geared to worth being relative to productivity.  Black or gray, or none at all, God cares for us all!

God's Plan

It was about this time in the month of June some fifty-seven years ago that my parents took me to Young Harris College and drove away without me.   For the next two years this small north Georgia college was my home.  It gave me a strong academic beginning for what was to come.  It was a small college which provided me a safe place to figure out some of the things which had to do with figuring out who I was and what I wanted to do with my life.  It gave me leadership opportunities I would not have had in a larger college and it was a place which nurtured me in those years when my faith in God was new.     

I have always been grateful for the influence of those two years.  While it seems strange to some, it has always seemed to me that I ended up at Young Harris by divine leading.  It was not a time in my life when random decisions were made, but a time when I was able to follow what I likely did not understand to be the leading of God.  As the years have accumulated, the more I have become convinced that life is not about coincidental choices, but about God in our life.  We often throw about that Old Testament verse about God having a plan for our life without really giving it its due.     

There are times when it is hard to stand and be sure that we are in midst of God's plan.  It is hard to embrace this part of the life of faith when everything seems to be crumbling into nothing under our feet.  It is hard to see God's plan at work when our life and everything of value seems to be falling apart around us.  And maybe it is also true that it is natural for us to have difficulty seeing how God is at work when the darkness around us is so very deep, but if we can hang in there until the darkness is lifted, hindsight and faith will give us a view of what is behind which will enable us to see that we were never alone and that God was navigating the way for us in the darkness.  

The Two Men

What is in me now was not in me then.  The older version of me with whom I live now each day looks a lot dfferent than the younger version portrayed in faded pictures from the past.  Should the two somehow meet, the younger guy would not be able to envision becoming the older guy and the older guy would think the younger guy has a long way yet to go.  Yet, despite the differences which are far more than external, the remembered version of the one who bears my name and the one seen in the mirror each day belong to one another.  

The younger guy knew a lot more about God and everything else than the older guy now professes.  The older guy has come to know that there is more that is unknown about everything and God than has ever been known.  The younger guy, of course, could not see the journey about to be undertaken and where it would lead.  In his head he knew it would, if life was generous with years, lead to the old guy who stands daily in amazement that he is still here.  The two men in my life, the one young and the other old, are like bookends which keep things in perspective and in order so that everything does not fall off the shelf at the first shaking of the earth beneath their feet.    

The thing of wonder is that though so different, God brought both into being.  The one closer to the beginning thought it was more about what could be done and so lived a fast and hurried life while the one closer to the end has learned to live slower with eyes that see things never seen by the youger guy.  One of the things seen more clearly by the one closer to the end is grace.  Divine grace.  What is known now is that holy grace has enabled the journey from here to there and that same grace will finally make both the younger guy and the older guy a lingering memory here and a holy mystery there.  

Seen in Glory

 How far is it, Lord, 

    from this side to there?

       Just a step or two, 

         maybe even less, 

           quicker than a breath,

             the journey is done

from earth to glory.

The eye cannot see

     the glory beyond, 

        and then everything,

           crystal clear water, 

             a river flowing, 

               and fruit lush and ripe

from Eden's virgin soil.

So long invisible,

     now brighter than light, 

       not a blinding light, 

         a glorious light

           making visible, 

              hidden mystery, 

the Holy face of God.  

              

The Old Fence

I knew that old pasture fence which was taken down as the new fencing went up was worth saving.  When it was rolled up and put in the barn, I was not sure how it would be used, but I knew it would find a purpose.  Today it found that unknown purpose.  As the blueberry patch started ripening, the roaming chickens suddenly started showing interest.  I like blueberries.  I feed the chickens laying mash and I have no desire for them to eat blueberries for desert.  So, I took a roll of that stored used pasture fence and put up a temporary fence around the blueberry patch.  The chickens did not like it, but it sure did look good to me as I started picking those berries.    

I have discovered around here that farmers are notorious for saving any and everything.  You just never know when what seems to be junk might be needed.   I remember years ago while in Vidalia a couple of pieces of property next to the church went on the for sale market.  The church made a decision to buy the property even though we did not know what we were going to do with it.  You could say it that it was bought and put in the barn for a day it might be needed.  There did come a day when it became something none of us back then could have envisioned.  On that land now stands a vital day school for children and a thrift store.  Both serve the community in the name of Christ in different ways.   

When I go by that church now I am reminded that God saw something in that church's future we could not see.  Thankfully, we dared to buy into a future that we could not see.  The Spirit of God is not a timid breathing Spirit, but One who is bold and who leads His people to be bold in taking risk for His sake.  When a moment filled with what seems to be an irrational choice presents itself as a part of our faith walk, we might want to pray a little longer just to be sure we are not being afraid to walk where the bold Spirit is walking to lead us.  

Golden Bowls

I love imagery.  I guess you could call me an imagery junkie.  I love to read things that are not filled with black and white.  I love the way images invite me to use my imagination, the way they enable my spirit to soar into places not known, and the way they challenge my mind and heart to go beyond what is obvious.  Images give me permision to think in a way that the black and white factual world can never do.  To be in a world where imagery prevails is like standing in the river allowing the moving water to wash over me.    

And so, when an old friend pointed me to a couple of places in the book of Revelation where it speaks of the gathering up of our prayers in the heavenly place, I found myself captivated by the stirring of an unleashed spirit within me.   The first place was Revelation 5:8 where the Word says, "...the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell before the Lamb, each holding a harp and a golden bowl full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints."  And then a little later in Revelation 8:3-4 it speaks of an angel with a golden censor standing at the altar, "...and the smoke of the incense with the prayers of the saints, rose before the Lord..."     

What happens to our prayers?  What happens to the prayers we pray which seem to be unheard?  What happens to those prayers we have prayed for a life time?  They are held in a precious bowl and rise into the air like fragrant incense before the Lord to whom the prayers have been offered.   The precious quality of our prayers requires a golden bowl held by heavenly beings.  Of course, every image has its boundaries, but in this one we are reminded that our prayers are not wasted, they are not unheard, they are not filed in some folder, but instead, they are kept in a golden bowl until they are brought before the Lord.  They are held as something of great value and they do rise before the Lord to whom we make our prayers.  

A Korean Woman's Faith

When I was pastor at the Richmond Hill Church,  a young Korean woman came to serve as a Minister of Music.  In addition to her expertise in music, she brought to our church a rich tradition of faith that was born out of her family and the Korean Church.  Her mother who still lives in Korea recently completed copying the Scripure for the sixth time.  It is by any standards an amazing accomplishment that not only brings to mind the ancient monks who copied the Word, but also a commitment to let the Word of God soak into the soul in a way it could not do with the casual reading we often give it.    

If you and I were to set out on such a discipline, we would no doubt discover very quickly that it slows us down and allows us to receive the Word of God in a way never before experienced.  Our usual reading which is often measured by the clock does not enable us to sit as one immersed in a small section of the Word as would happen by sitting with a pen and notebook writing the Word verse by verse.  Actually, it is impossible for us to imagine the spiritual benefits of something so foreign to our walk with God.  We walk with Him, but at a more hurried pace than this woman who sits and copies the Scripture one word at a time.    

My friend's 87 year old Mother has no awareness how her faithfulness to this ministry has touched someone who  met her long ago and remembers her mainly through her daughter.  It is always that way with what we do to serve God.  Our life of faithfulness has a rippling effect through a world so large we cannot envision it.  It is amazing that what God set in motion through a single older woman in another country blesses folks like you and me who live thousands of miles away.

Remembering the Name

While I had the usual number of grandparents, I only have memory of my Granddaddy Hale.  By the time I came to the age of memory, all the others were gone.  The other day I saw a bottled RC Cola sitting in some ice and when I paid for it, I told the disinterested clerk that I was buying it because it was my granddaddy's favorite drink.  I remember him drinking an RC, rolling his own tobacco from a Prince Albert Can, cutting me joints of cane with his pocket knife, and telling me stories I have mostly forgotten.  But, the other day I remembered him not only with the purchase of an overpriced cola, but also by calling his name.    

Since being here at the farm I have become a name caller.  Aloud I often speak the name of someone from my own family, or my wife's family.  They are not here to hear their name being called, but it is my way of keeping their memory alive in my heart.  It is my way of honoring them.  I have also decided it is a Biblical thing to do.    How many times does the Word of God remember the patriarchs by saying, "The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob...?"  

Throughout the story of God's people, their names are called and remembered.  Not only in Genesis do we encounter their names, but also in places like the burning bush, Mt. Sinai, Peter's post Pentecost preaching, and in the Apostle Paul's letter to the Church at Rome.  There and in other places they are remembered and honored by the calling of their names.  So, I call the names of those who have left this life and are remembered in the memory God has given me.  I hope one day when I am a part of that great crowd of heavenly witnesses that someone will remember and call my name as well.   

Reading the Word

When it comes to reading the Scripture daily, there is no poured in concrete method.  There are a lot of different ways to approach this daily discipline.  Some like the "open the book and put the finger down" method believing that the hands are the will of God.  Others might like a laid out method such as using the lectionary readings each day.  And, of course, there are those who simply make a practice of reading a Psalm and a gospel reading each day.  Certainly, this is not an exhausitive listing, but one in which many of us find ourselves.    

The most important thing about reading the Scripture is not the method chosen, but the reading.  Reading a lot or a little is not nearly as important as reading something.  The Scripture is more than just a collection of writings, but the inspired written Word of God. (II Timothy 3:16)  There are many ways God can speak to us, but none are as sure and certain as the Scripture.  I often remember my preaching professor in seminary who told us would be preachers to make sure we read the Scripture in each worship service so the people would have the opportunity to hear the Word of God.  It might not be in our sermon, but it was in the written text.    

Every day we need to hear something from God.  It is not just something we should expect to happen on Sunday while we are in a place of worship.  Every day is a day God has given us and every day is a day in which God chooses to make both His presence and His voice known to us.  One of the surest ways to experience this is through the written Word which makes it one of the most important things we can do each day.  

The Slow Work

One of the good things about climbing on the tractor with the bush hog attached is what shows up behind the tractor.  Tall weeds and grass under the pecan trees which creates a picture of unkept chaos in front of the tractor is transformed into a neat and orderly look where the tractor has been.  After having spent a lifetime of working where the results were often not seen right away and sometimes never seen, it has been nice to be able to look back and see in the moment the results of the work being done.   And, as this is true here on the farm, so is it true for the urban dweller who cuts the grass around the house.    

We often wish our Kingdom work could provide such immediate gratification, but one of the truths we learn early about Kingdom work is that the results are often not seen.  Each of us can remember people who are a part of our past who had a hand in getting us on the road of faith, but it took so long for us to come to our spiritual senses that they were not around to see it.  It has worked the same for us as we have invested ourselves in the lives of others.  Sometimes we may see the results, but most of the time, someone else does.    

Kingdom work is slow work.  It is described in the Scripture as the work of the sower.  (Matthew 13)  "A sower went out to sow."  When the seed is cast into the ground, it is covered up and disappears from sight.  And it does not germinate and come forth from the dirt tomorrow.  It may be ten days or two weeks before there is any evidence that a seed has been cast into the dirt.  What we do for Christ will last, but it may take awhile before there is any evidence that the work has been done.  

A Family Saying

Some see the sun of the new day with dread.  They rise expecting what it is to come to be as bad, if not worse than yesterday.  Some see the sun of the new day with hope.  Surely, the new day cannot be as bad as yesterday is the mantra.  And, there are some who see the new day with anticipation believing and knowing that what is to come is going to be filled with something new, something surprising, and something which is a part of the unfolding plan of God.    

It should go without saying that our expectations do have some bearing on how our life is experienced.  There is a family saying among those who are a part of my life which refers to speaking things into existence.  Surely, there is some truth is this family word as it points to the expectations we carry with us into the newness of each day.  If we go into the day looking for something good, we are likely to find it and, of course, the antithesis of this is true as well.    

What is always true and what is often missed as we get up and hurry into the day is that God is always in the midst of what is ahead of us.  It would do us all good to read or remember each day a word Jesus spoke to the disicples long ago as He said, "If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!"  (Matthew 7:11)  If we go forth believing that the new day is a day in which God's blessings of grace and mercy will be falling on our path, it might stir us to get up and get our feet moving into the way God is making ready for us.