"But when the time had fully come, God sent His Son, born of a woman, born under law, to redeem those under law, that we might receive the full rights of sons. Because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, 'Abba, Father.' So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and since you are a son, God has made you also an heir." - Galatians 4:4-7
And this, too, is the good news of Christmas.
The baby in the manger whose birth we celebrate this weekend came to seek and save the lost (Luke 19:10). He came with great love to seek and to save all of us, who like sheep, had gone astray (Isaiah 53:6, 1 Peter 2:25). And He still comes, every day, to each of us, with grace and mercy, love and compassion - still seeking us in those places where we're straying, still finding us when we lose our way and bringing us home again.
"I am the Good Shepherd," He said. "I know my sheep, and my sheep know me - just as the Father knows me and I know the Father - and I lay down my life for my sheep. ... My sheep listen to my voice; I know them and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand. I and the Father are one." (John 10:14-15, 27-30)
So rest secure, children of God. The baby whose birth we celebrate this weekend came down from heaven to rescue you, because He loves you that much - and you are his sons and his daughters, the ones who know Him, the ones who know His voice. As we gather to worship today and tomorrow, may His peace that passes all understanding guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7). And may you be filled with wonder and awe as you seek Him. Amen.
Merry Christmas!
Showing posts with label simple felicity: love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label simple felicity: love. Show all posts
Advent Love - Day 6
"The LORD looked and was displeased
that there was no justice.
He saw that there was no one,
He was appalled that there was no one to intervene;
so His own arm worked salvation for Him
and His own righteousness sustained Him.
***
The Redeemer will come to Zion,
to those in Jacob who repent of their sins."
- Isaiah 59: 15b-16, 20
Two more days. Two more days until Christmas! Two more days until the waiting is over. Two more days until we celebrate the greatest Gift ever given...
The picture painted in the chapter we read in Isaiah today is bleak: "So justice is far from us, and righteousness does not reach us. We look for light, but all is darkness; for brightness, but we walk in deep shadows... We look for justice, but find none; for deliverance, but it is far away." (Isaiah 59:9, 11b) But we have the advantage of looking back and knowing that God's plan was already in place. Isaiah's words prophesied the coming of a Redeemer, who would come "to those who repent" - and come He did.
His cousin, John, was confirmed by all four gospels as the one Isaiah spoke of as "the voice of one calling, 'In the wilderness prepare the way for the LORD; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.'" (Isaiah 40:3, Matthew 3:3, Mark 1:3, Luke 3:4, John 1:23), and on the day John was named, his father Zechariah prophesied over him: "you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High; for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for Him, to give His people the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God..." (Luke 1: 76-78a) John preached a gospel of repentance, and the Redeemer came.
And the beauty of it is that He still comes. Every time someone turns in repentance, they will find their Redeemer near. Zechariah described Him as "the rising sun" who - because of God's tender mercy - "will come to us from heaven, to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace." (Luke 1:78b-79 He is the One we have waited for, all this Advent. He is the One who shines brightly against the darkness, which can neither understand nor overcome Him. He is the One who shines the light of His love and mercy and forgiveness and compassion into the darkest corners of our hearts and minds, and freely gives us grace.
There are so many places in the world that are still waiting for Him. So many places and people crying out for justice... and for righteousness (right standing with God). Reflect Him, these next two days. Allow the One whose Spirit indwells you to shine forth through you, and bring light to the darkness. Be hope, be peace, be joy, be love to the people around you, right where you are, no matter how tired or crabby or mean or uncaring they may appear to be. There's no telling what kind of miracles could take place if you do. The people Isaiah described included some who were growling like bears and some who were mourning like doves - and who knows but that the seemingly angry or desperately sad people you may encounter this Christmas season are simply looking for justice and righteousness and not finding it? But you know the One they are searching for. So do what you can to reflect His glory, and leave the rest to Him. It is His kindness that leads us to repentance (Romans 2:4), and He wants everyone to come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9). So put your hope in Him for your friends and family and neighbors and even the strangers that you meet who still seem to be waiting for their Redeemer, and simply reflect His love to them as you celebrate your own salvation and the coming of our King, who came, and is here, and will come again.
that there was no justice.
He saw that there was no one,
He was appalled that there was no one to intervene;
so His own arm worked salvation for Him
and His own righteousness sustained Him.
***
The Redeemer will come to Zion,
to those in Jacob who repent of their sins."
- Isaiah 59: 15b-16, 20
Two more days. Two more days until Christmas! Two more days until the waiting is over. Two more days until we celebrate the greatest Gift ever given...
The picture painted in the chapter we read in Isaiah today is bleak: "So justice is far from us, and righteousness does not reach us. We look for light, but all is darkness; for brightness, but we walk in deep shadows... We look for justice, but find none; for deliverance, but it is far away." (Isaiah 59:9, 11b) But we have the advantage of looking back and knowing that God's plan was already in place. Isaiah's words prophesied the coming of a Redeemer, who would come "to those who repent" - and come He did.
His cousin, John, was confirmed by all four gospels as the one Isaiah spoke of as "the voice of one calling, 'In the wilderness prepare the way for the LORD; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.'" (Isaiah 40:3, Matthew 3:3, Mark 1:3, Luke 3:4, John 1:23), and on the day John was named, his father Zechariah prophesied over him: "you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High; for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for Him, to give His people the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God..." (Luke 1: 76-78a) John preached a gospel of repentance, and the Redeemer came.
And the beauty of it is that He still comes. Every time someone turns in repentance, they will find their Redeemer near. Zechariah described Him as "the rising sun" who - because of God's tender mercy - "will come to us from heaven, to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace." (Luke 1:78b-79 He is the One we have waited for, all this Advent. He is the One who shines brightly against the darkness, which can neither understand nor overcome Him. He is the One who shines the light of His love and mercy and forgiveness and compassion into the darkest corners of our hearts and minds, and freely gives us grace.
There are so many places in the world that are still waiting for Him. So many places and people crying out for justice... and for righteousness (right standing with God). Reflect Him, these next two days. Allow the One whose Spirit indwells you to shine forth through you, and bring light to the darkness. Be hope, be peace, be joy, be love to the people around you, right where you are, no matter how tired or crabby or mean or uncaring they may appear to be. There's no telling what kind of miracles could take place if you do. The people Isaiah described included some who were growling like bears and some who were mourning like doves - and who knows but that the seemingly angry or desperately sad people you may encounter this Christmas season are simply looking for justice and righteousness and not finding it? But you know the One they are searching for. So do what you can to reflect His glory, and leave the rest to Him. It is His kindness that leads us to repentance (Romans 2:4), and He wants everyone to come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9). So put your hope in Him for your friends and family and neighbors and even the strangers that you meet who still seem to be waiting for their Redeemer, and simply reflect His love to them as you celebrate your own salvation and the coming of our King, who came, and is here, and will come again.
Advent Love - Day 5
Please welcome today's guest blogger, Sara Harrison. Sara is a stay-at-home mom with 3 girls -- 11, 8, and 5, and a one-year old boy. She was an English major and loves talking books. She's a Presbyterian pastor's wife and loves talking theology. She's also an INTJ and an Enneagram-5 and loves talking about life, the universe and everything, and how it all fits together (42). She's also one of my very best friends (I've known her for half of our lives), a former roommate, and once referred to coffee (quite rightly) as "lifeblood." Pour yourself a cup and get ready for some good conversation. :)
You can follow Sara's writing on her blog at http://coffeerandoms.blogspot.com/.
Given that this is Love week, let's talk about the love of God for a few minutes. God loves you. I expect that if you're reading this, you know that. And God loved us all Soo--ooo much that he sent Jesus down as a baby to be born . . . upon a midnight clear . . . and laid in the sweet smelling hay . . . with the gentle beasts all around him . . . and we cast the scene in a sentimental soft light glow, and call that the love of God during this season. But you know what? The love of God is bigger and brighter than that. More difficult. More all-consuming. Less a 40 watt light bulb, and more of a nuclear explosion.
You can follow Sara's writing on her blog at http://coffeerandoms.blogspot.com/.
------------------
There's a great Old Testament word-- hesed. (It's one of my pastor-husband's favorite words to preach on.) It gets translated love, loving-kindness, mercy, faithfulness, covenant faithfulness. It's all those things and more. The Jesus Storybook Bible talks of it as God's "Never Stopping, Never Giving Up, Unbreaking, Always and Forever Love." It's God keeping his promises to us, and finding a way to rescue us from our sin because it's who he IS, and he can no more be unfaithful or unloving to us than we can make a square circle or smell blue. It would be a nonsensical impossibility.
And this is the love of God that is being called on and celebrated in the readings this morning. Psalms 146 and 147, two of the great praise psalms, remind us that hope and salvation are in God. That he is our faithful king, that he rescues all who call him . . . and that if we look to people for the sort of salvation and faithfulness that only come from God, we're going to be disappointed every time. But Yahweh lifts up the humble and heals the broken-hearted. It is with the knowledge and assurance of the hesed of God that the psalmist of Psalm 80 calls for rescue. And then we get to Zechariah, and I'm going to steal a little from tomorrow's reading, because the canticle of Zechariah is one of the great songs of the Bible.
“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
for he has visited and redeemed his people
and has raised up a horn of salvation for us
in the house of his servant David,
as he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,
that we should be saved from our enemies
and from the hand of all who hate us;
to show the mercy promised to our fathers
and to remember his holy covenant,
- Luke 1:68-72 ESV
That showing mercy? That's hesed, there. But let's look just a second at just who God redeems and how and why. He redeems his people. He raised up a horn of salvation for us. He calls us and redeems us together. Now of course, there is no group that is not made up of individuals, but God doesn't leave us alone to be individuals. He puts us together with other people to . . . do hesed to each other. To love each other. Be faithful to each other. To help each other along the path of redemption.
Real love is hard. Loving real people with real problems is hard. That's one of the reasons that the soft-glow version of Christmas doesn't really do us much good. If we have a God who nicely loves people who don't actually have much in the way of problems that they need fixed, it doesn't help us in loving each other when we run facelong into the fact that really loving real people, in our church, in our marriages, with our children, in our communities, is rather horribly gritty most days. Loving my kindergartner when she's home sick with stomach flu . . . well, there's just not much you can do to romanticize that, or cast it in a 40 watt glow. But God, in his Never Stopping, Never Giving Up Love, becomes Incarnate. He detonates a bomb of mercy, grace, forgiveness and God-With-Us-ness into our world, because that's what it needs, and so that's what he's going to give.
God loves you. God loves me too. He loves my kids, more than I do. He loves the elderly lady in the pew across the aisle, and the uncooperative kid who just wants to lie on the floor during junior church. He meets us at the point of our brokenness and dwells with us and loves us, and heals us, and saves us. And by loving us this way, God teaches us how to love this way. He shows us that love starts with being present. Which he is. That is reason for praise.
The LORD will reign forever,
your God, O Zion, to all generations.
Praise the LORD!
- Psalm 146:10 ESV
-- Sara Harrison
cross-posted at Coffee Randoms
Advent Love - Day 4
Please welcome today's guest blogger, my friend and fellow staff member - Arman Sheffey. :)
Follow: @mrsheffey
Blog: armansheffey.blogspot.com
"I will be his father, and he will be my son. If he sins, I will correct and discipline him with the rod, like any father would do. But my favor will not be taken from him as I took it from Saul, whom I removed from your sight. Your house and your kingdom will continue before me for all time, and your throne will be secure forever.’” ~2 Sam 7:1-17 NLT
As I read through the readings for our Advent devotional today, (http://www.crivoice.org/advent2.html), and meditate on the love of God I am brought to my own personal struggles, specifically with hope. I often feel like a man trapped in chapter one of a beautiful novel. I know that the story is to be one of triumph, that it is continually filled with victory and blessing. However, I recently find myself falling prey to the predatory thoughts of my present struggles being the plot for the whole story. It is amazing how my memory fails. It is amazing how I struggle to recall the Lord's past faithfulness in even more trying times. It is amazing how I tend to think that God is done working miracles and blessing me beyond belief.
Then I go back to the readings for today and I encounter the most meaningful word in scripture to me personally: BUT. The Lord continually infuses this conjunction throughout His holy word to show that mid chapter, mid verse, mid-sentence…he has a history of turning things around.
In 2 Samuel 7:14, I read of the discipline a father gives and feel that this greatly characterizes my life right now. Not that my life is riddled with sin, but that I strongly feel the corrective hand of the Father on me.
Then the Lord spoke to me with the first word of verse 15, But…
The story doesn't end with the correction. God speaks of the continual favor that rests with David, unlike his predecessor, Saul. This awoke a new sense of hope for me. So I continued to the next scripture.
"For we ourselves were also once foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving various lusts and pleasures, living in malice and envy, hateful and hating one another. " - Titus 3:3 NKJV
This once again had me remembering my past sins and searching within me for any of these in my present life. Then I reencountered His love in the following verse.
"But when the kindness and the love of God our Savior toward man appeared, 5 not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us…" - Titus 3:4-5a NKJV
God intervened into my past darkness and out of LOVE, He saved me.
God intervenes…
God interrupts…
God intercedes…
He has a history of stepping in and changing the story, just when we think the final chapter has been written.
Joseph could have given up in the pit. He could have quit in the dungeon. Instead, Joseph remembered his God and waited on His Love to be shown.
Then he could declare to his brothers, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives." Genesis 50:20
"My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever." - Psalm 73:26
The truth may be that you are failing. The truth may be that you are in a world of hurt. The truth may be that you have been too low for too long.
BUT…
The truth does not end there. Keep reading the story that God is writing with your life. Don't quit in the first verse. His love will appear again and again. His love is present now in Christ Jesus and we celebrate that gift in the next few days.
You might not be feeling like that love is real for you right now, but if you have accepted that free gift of grace through Jesus then it is no less true for you than for any of the other Gospel heroes of which we read.
Let God finish telling you the story.
Wait for the "But."
------------------
Arman Sheffey is a introspective, yet fun-loving Jesus follower. He believes for the salvation of all those close to him and those that God places in his path in the coming days. Arman is a husband to a beautiful wife, Lariza, and a father to a wonderful daughter, Leila. He is an avid reader, writer and wild dreamer. He is also the Director of Torch Online, the online division of TorchChurch.tv. He currently prays that his discipline, passion, pride, and his faith reach levels that better glorify Jesus Christ.Follow: @mrsheffey
Blog: armansheffey.blogspot.com
------------------
"I will be his father, and he will be my son. If he sins, I will correct and discipline him with the rod, like any father would do. But my favor will not be taken from him as I took it from Saul, whom I removed from your sight. Your house and your kingdom will continue before me for all time, and your throne will be secure forever.’” ~2 Sam 7:1-17 NLT
As I read through the readings for our Advent devotional today, (http://www.crivoice.org/advent2.html), and meditate on the love of God I am brought to my own personal struggles, specifically with hope. I often feel like a man trapped in chapter one of a beautiful novel. I know that the story is to be one of triumph, that it is continually filled with victory and blessing. However, I recently find myself falling prey to the predatory thoughts of my present struggles being the plot for the whole story. It is amazing how my memory fails. It is amazing how I struggle to recall the Lord's past faithfulness in even more trying times. It is amazing how I tend to think that God is done working miracles and blessing me beyond belief.
Then I go back to the readings for today and I encounter the most meaningful word in scripture to me personally: BUT. The Lord continually infuses this conjunction throughout His holy word to show that mid chapter, mid verse, mid-sentence…he has a history of turning things around.
In 2 Samuel 7:14, I read of the discipline a father gives and feel that this greatly characterizes my life right now. Not that my life is riddled with sin, but that I strongly feel the corrective hand of the Father on me.
Then the Lord spoke to me with the first word of verse 15, But…
The story doesn't end with the correction. God speaks of the continual favor that rests with David, unlike his predecessor, Saul. This awoke a new sense of hope for me. So I continued to the next scripture.
"For we ourselves were also once foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving various lusts and pleasures, living in malice and envy, hateful and hating one another. " - Titus 3:3 NKJV
This once again had me remembering my past sins and searching within me for any of these in my present life. Then I reencountered His love in the following verse.
God intervened into my past darkness and out of LOVE, He saved me.
God intervenes…
God interrupts…
God intercedes…
He has a history of stepping in and changing the story, just when we think the final chapter has been written.
Joseph could have given up in the pit. He could have quit in the dungeon. Instead, Joseph remembered his God and waited on His Love to be shown.
Then he could declare to his brothers, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives." Genesis 50:20
"My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever." - Psalm 73:26
The truth may be that you are failing. The truth may be that you are in a world of hurt. The truth may be that you have been too low for too long.
BUT…
The truth does not end there. Keep reading the story that God is writing with your life. Don't quit in the first verse. His love will appear again and again. His love is present now in Christ Jesus and we celebrate that gift in the next few days.
You might not be feeling like that love is real for you right now, but if you have accepted that free gift of grace through Jesus then it is no less true for you than for any of the other Gospel heroes of which we read.
Let God finish telling you the story.
Wait for the "But."
Advent Love - Day 3
"I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered. "May it be to me as you have said." - Luke 1:38a
I think those might be some of the bravest words in Scripture.
I love this part of the Story. Can you just imagine it?
Mary's going about her average, everyday life, when an angel comes to her. The first thing angels typically say when they appear in Scripture is "do not be afraid!" (which should tell us something about angels right there) - but before he says that, the angel greets Mary, likely a 13/14-year-old girl, as "you who are highly favored. The Lord is with you." - Luke 1:28
Mary's "a little (understandably) freaked out" (that's The Happy Paraphrase of "greatly troubled"), so then the angel says, "Don't be afraid" and calmly goes on to explain to her: "You're going to get pregnant and give birth to a son; you'll name Him Jesus and He'll be called 'Son of the Most High', and He's going to be the King forever."
In her shoes, I suspect I might have said something eloquent, like: "Um. ....what?!"
Mary just asks the practical question: "Ok.... But... how?"
So the angel explains (sort of) and sums it all up by reminding Mary that "nothing is impossible with God."
To which Mary responds, "I am the Lord's servant. Let it be to me as you have said."
Which seems to me to be somewhere along the lines of:
"I'm not sure I get it, but ... okay. Since He said so."
And it struck me, reading this story for the how-many-th time tonight, that Mary was highly favored because God knew she was exactly the kind of girl who would respond just that way.
And I wondered...
"Am I?"
Am I the kind of person that God knows would say "yes" in a heartbeat if He asked me to do something unusual, counter-cultural, alienating even? Am I the kind of person who would, without really understanding the particulars of how it would all actually work out in the long run and without even really having time to grasp the magnitude of what He was asking, say "Yes!! Whatever, whenever, as long as I'm with You!"?
I want to be. And, God helping me, I can be.
All God "needed" (practically speaking) to send His Son into this world was one willing heart - one heart so devoted to Him that she said "yes," even when she didn't fully understand what she was saying yes to, even when it changed everything and turned her entire life upside down. We can't even begin to grasp the cultural implications of Mary's "yes" that day - but they were tremendous. She became an outcast, and the man she was engaged to seriously considered calling it off - quietly, but definitely. But all God "needed" to protect Mary and His Son was one willing heart - one heart willing to believe a dream sent from heaven, telling him what to do.
Is my heart willing? (Am I still enough to listen for His voice?) Is yours? (Are you?)
The greatest gift of love ever given was made possible, in part - by His design - by the willing hearts of a man and a woman who, because their love for God made His will their top priority, simply said "yes." In spite of the consequences.
That blows my mind.
And it leaves me wondering - how much more could the love of God be shown forth as we, with willing hearts, follow Him even more boldly, daring to tell the greatest Story ever told - about how Love came, so faithfully, and rescued us?
"Praise the LORD, all you nations;
extol Him, all you peoples.
For great is His love toward us,
and the faithfulness of the LORD
endures forever.
Praise the LORD."
- Psalm 117
I think those might be some of the bravest words in Scripture.
I love this part of the Story. Can you just imagine it?
Mary's going about her average, everyday life, when an angel comes to her. The first thing angels typically say when they appear in Scripture is "do not be afraid!" (which should tell us something about angels right there) - but before he says that, the angel greets Mary, likely a 13/14-year-old girl, as "you who are highly favored. The Lord is with you." - Luke 1:28
Mary's "a little (understandably) freaked out" (that's The Happy Paraphrase of "greatly troubled"), so then the angel says, "Don't be afraid" and calmly goes on to explain to her: "You're going to get pregnant and give birth to a son; you'll name Him Jesus and He'll be called 'Son of the Most High', and He's going to be the King forever."
In her shoes, I suspect I might have said something eloquent, like: "Um. ....what?!"
Mary just asks the practical question: "Ok.... But... how?"
So the angel explains (sort of) and sums it all up by reminding Mary that "nothing is impossible with God."
To which Mary responds, "I am the Lord's servant. Let it be to me as you have said."
Which seems to me to be somewhere along the lines of:
"I'm not sure I get it, but ... okay. Since He said so."
And it struck me, reading this story for the how-many-th time tonight, that Mary was highly favored because God knew she was exactly the kind of girl who would respond just that way.
And I wondered...
"Am I?"
Am I the kind of person that God knows would say "yes" in a heartbeat if He asked me to do something unusual, counter-cultural, alienating even? Am I the kind of person who would, without really understanding the particulars of how it would all actually work out in the long run and without even really having time to grasp the magnitude of what He was asking, say "Yes!! Whatever, whenever, as long as I'm with You!"?
I want to be. And, God helping me, I can be.
All God "needed" (practically speaking) to send His Son into this world was one willing heart - one heart so devoted to Him that she said "yes," even when she didn't fully understand what she was saying yes to, even when it changed everything and turned her entire life upside down. We can't even begin to grasp the cultural implications of Mary's "yes" that day - but they were tremendous. She became an outcast, and the man she was engaged to seriously considered calling it off - quietly, but definitely. But all God "needed" to protect Mary and His Son was one willing heart - one heart willing to believe a dream sent from heaven, telling him what to do.
Is my heart willing? (Am I still enough to listen for His voice?) Is yours? (Are you?)
The greatest gift of love ever given was made possible, in part - by His design - by the willing hearts of a man and a woman who, because their love for God made His will their top priority, simply said "yes." In spite of the consequences.
That blows my mind.
And it leaves me wondering - how much more could the love of God be shown forth as we, with willing hearts, follow Him even more boldly, daring to tell the greatest Story ever told - about how Love came, so faithfully, and rescued us?
"Praise the LORD, all you nations;
extol Him, all you peoples.
For great is His love toward us,
and the faithfulness of the LORD
endures forever.
Praise the LORD."
- Psalm 117
Advent Love - Day 2
Please welcome today's guest blogger: Jake Winter. Jake is a good friend from my church who loves the Lord and has put a lot of time into studying God's word. I love talking about Scripture with Jake, and I'm glad you get to "listen in" on some of his thoughts today. :)
My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?
Why are You so far from saving me,
so far from my cries of anguish?
My God, I cry out by day, but You do not answer, Why are You so far from saving me,
so far from my cries of anguish?
by night, but I find no rest.
- Psalm 22:1-2
In these winter months, as the days are shorter, the nights are colder, and all that once seemed teeming with breath is now dead and lifeless, life can seem pretty dreary. Though we know in our heads that, in just a few short months, those first buds will appear on trees, robins will be frolicking on the now exposed grass as the scent of lily of the valley and apple blossoms drift through the air, when you look outside, get in your car, or gaze longingly at your bicycle, it seems nearly impossible to imagine.
Now imagine that winter lasting 400 years.
For 400 years, God was silent in Israel. The Jews knew God had promised Abraham a nation. They knew the scriptures, too. They knew other nations had once feared speaking behind closed doors against Israel, because God would expose those conversations to His prophets. Yet, for 400 years, there had been no prophets, and Israel was living under subjugation of other nations. Why had the God that had interacted with Israel so often in the past been silent? Had His love dried up? Had He truly forsaken Israel?
We know the story. He hadn't forsaken Israel. He sent His very Son to die on our behalf, the greatest gift of love the world has ever seen or will ever see again. God's silence over those 400 years served a very loving purpose -- it caused Israel to recognize their desperate situation and strain to hear the voice of the Lord. So when He spoke through the coming of John the Baptist, calling a nation to repent, people flocked to him. The promised one of Israel, the savior of the world, the greatest love offering ever made, was coming, and Israel was ready to hear.
Our God has called Himself the Alpha and the Omega because He is the same in the past as He is today. The same God who let Abraham wait a century to have his promised son, the same God who, out of His love for both Israel and David, had David wait decades before taking the throne of Israel, the same God who let Israel wait 400 years to meet her King, is the same God who may seem to be making you wait, too.
Does it seem like God has been silent, making you wait for something? Like Israel, He may be lovingly drawing you to the point of desperation, where you are straining to hear from Him. It is not an act of an angry God, it is not Him saying He's disappointed enough not to talk. It is His love for you, and His desire for your best, that brings about some of these seasons of waiting. David, the same man who wrote those verses from Psalm 22 quoted above, also wrote this:
I remain confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the LORD
in the land of the living.
Wait for the LORD;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the LORD.
- Psalm 27:13-14
That is our God.
Wait for the Lord. Be strong and take heart, and wait for the Lord.
For He is good, and His love endures forever.
- Jake Winter
Advent Reflections: Love
"For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life." - John 3:16
"Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say, 'Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God, and the authority of His Christ. For the accuser of our brothers, who accuses them before our God day and night, has been hurled down.'" - Revelation 12:10
"O LORD Almighty, blessed is the man who trusts in you." - Psalm 84: 12
I'm not sure there are more fitting verses for the first day of the last week of Advent, which is all about Love. The love of God shown to us in the gift of His Son is ...well, adjective-defying, honestly. You can use words like wonderful, great, amazing, humbling, beautiful, priceless, gracious, kind... but all of them fall short and only get at part of what it really is. It's Love. With a capital L.
Love that loves us too much to leave us where we are. Love that intersects with our lives, exactly when and where and how we are. Love that transforms. Encourages. Changes. Renews. Saves.
This week, the last week of Advent - one more week of waiting for our King - what if we were on the lookout for the ways in which Love can and would and does intersect with our lives? Could it change our perspective on the things that happen to us, or on the opportunities that arise before us?
"The kingdom of this world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ, and He will reign forever and ever." - Revelation 11:15
It's one of those beautiful and mysterious "now & not yet" things - already true (because Jesus came) and still coming true (because He's coming back). And here in the middle of it, as we're waiting, it's coming true every single day.
The way Love intersects with your life may not seem dramatic - but whenever Love interacts with us, there's going to be amazing consequences.
So look for Him this week, this come and coming King. And know that you are loved. Hallelujah!
"Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say, 'Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God, and the authority of His Christ. For the accuser of our brothers, who accuses them before our God day and night, has been hurled down.'" - Revelation 12:10
"O LORD Almighty, blessed is the man who trusts in you." - Psalm 84: 12
I'm not sure there are more fitting verses for the first day of the last week of Advent, which is all about Love. The love of God shown to us in the gift of His Son is ...well, adjective-defying, honestly. You can use words like wonderful, great, amazing, humbling, beautiful, priceless, gracious, kind... but all of them fall short and only get at part of what it really is. It's Love. With a capital L.
Love that loves us too much to leave us where we are. Love that intersects with our lives, exactly when and where and how we are. Love that transforms. Encourages. Changes. Renews. Saves.
This week, the last week of Advent - one more week of waiting for our King - what if we were on the lookout for the ways in which Love can and would and does intersect with our lives? Could it change our perspective on the things that happen to us, or on the opportunities that arise before us?
"The kingdom of this world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ, and He will reign forever and ever." - Revelation 11:15
It's one of those beautiful and mysterious "now & not yet" things - already true (because Jesus came) and still coming true (because He's coming back). And here in the middle of it, as we're waiting, it's coming true every single day.
The way Love intersects with your life may not seem dramatic - but whenever Love interacts with us, there's going to be amazing consequences.
So look for Him this week, this come and coming King. And know that you are loved. Hallelujah!
Book Review: The Heart Mender, by Andy Andrews
Andy Andrews' The Heart Mender is an inspiring story about the power not just of love, but of forgiveness, community and faith. Intertwined with the love story of an American woman and a German soldier during World War II (and with the stories of their friends and neighbors) is a bit of the author's own story, as he uncovers the clues that lead him to discover the romance.
Andrews is a skilled storyteller, and weaves dialogue and description to create vivid and believable characters. The issues with which the characters struggle are real, and the answers to which they come are hard-won - but throughout the book is a firm and unyielding hope and confidence that love will, in the end, triumph. From beginning to end, the storylines illustrate the truth that bitterness and resentment do nothing but continue to wound, while making the choice to forgive can do everything towards bringing healing and hope to a broken heart.
One of the things I most appreciated about this story is that while it is a love story, it doesn't happen in isolation. It blossoms in the context of a community, and affects - and is affected by - that community. I love that. It makes the entire book feel even more true - because in real life, relationships do inevitably happen in the context of community.
I absolutely loved this story. I have actually read it twice now, and already loaned it to a friend. So I am happy to say that Thomas Nelson actually sent me an extra copy to give away on my blog! :) If you're intrigued and would like to read it, please let me know by commenting below. Your names will be entered in a drawing, which will take place a week from Saturday.
Disclosure in agreement with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255 "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising": I received this book for free from Thomas Nelson Publishers as part of their BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.
Andrews is a skilled storyteller, and weaves dialogue and description to create vivid and believable characters. The issues with which the characters struggle are real, and the answers to which they come are hard-won - but throughout the book is a firm and unyielding hope and confidence that love will, in the end, triumph. From beginning to end, the storylines illustrate the truth that bitterness and resentment do nothing but continue to wound, while making the choice to forgive can do everything towards bringing healing and hope to a broken heart.
One of the things I most appreciated about this story is that while it is a love story, it doesn't happen in isolation. It blossoms in the context of a community, and affects - and is affected by - that community. I love that. It makes the entire book feel even more true - because in real life, relationships do inevitably happen in the context of community.
I absolutely loved this story. I have actually read it twice now, and already loaned it to a friend. So I am happy to say that Thomas Nelson actually sent me an extra copy to give away on my blog! :) If you're intrigued and would like to read it, please let me know by commenting below. Your names will be entered in a drawing, which will take place a week from Saturday.
Disclosure in agreement with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255 "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising": I received this book for free from Thomas Nelson Publishers as part of their BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.
on loving your neighbor - and loving yourself
I've been thinking a lot about love these past few days. Love is so simple, yet sometimes feels like such a complicated thing.
About two and a half years ago or so, a meme went around, asking questions about Christianity, addressing negative stereotypes, but also asking what it is that we should be known for. I said, that in a word, it's this: Love. Based on 1 Corinthians 13, I argued that it wasn't "the frilly, fancy, red paper hearts, sappy valentine type of love" that we should be known for, but rather, "Real love. Tough love."
Love that is patient when it could be easily frustrated. Love that is kind when it could have chosen to be cruel. Love that isn't envious of the blessings of others even in the absence of blessing to itself. Love that is humble and quiet, not boastful and self-centered. Love that chooses to forget the wrongs done to it; love that refuses to stay angry, even though it has every right to be upset. Love that rejoices with everything that is good and true and right in the world, and weeps over that which is not. Love that protects fiercely, that trusts unyieldingly even when it doesn't understand, that hopes unswervingly against all odds, and that perseveres no matter what. Love that refuses to fail. Love that embraces grace, that extends it, that doesn't give up. Love that recognizes it can't be earned. Love that mourns sin and celebrates repentance. Love that is meek enough - gentle enough - to both hear and tell the truth. Love that hungers for righteousness. Love that extends mercy. Love that is pure in heart. Love that seeks peace, at great cost to itself. Love that will not shy away from persecution of any kind, because its purpose is greater than any temporary pain. Love that is... Love. (He is also known as Jesus.)
I believe that. I do.
And yet here I am, faced with a situation in which I have no idea how to practically, actively love.
The details don't really matter. The briefest summation is that I have a friend who had ceased, by personal choice, to be my friend - but who now wants to
re-establish that connection.
Justice says, "No way."
God says, "Love your neighbor as yourself."
But how do I do that?
It's taken me a long time to learn how to love myself. There's so much that God has healed in me - and so much more yet to heal. But I am learning to take care of myself. To choose friendships that are life-giving and not toxic. I am learning to guard my heart more carefully - to be open, but cautious. I am learning - sometimes sadly - to choose carefully whom I trust.
So what do I do? What do I do with this old friend who wants to be my friend again? History tells me that this is not a safe investment. Experience tells me that it is unwise.
But love tells me that rejecting him is not an option.
I have every right to be upset. To be cautious. To resist. To say no.
But love extends mercy. Holds unswervingly. Celebrates repentance. Embraces grace. Perseveres. Does not give up.
I want to. Oh, how I want to give up, to walk away, to say "NO! I am not risking again. I do not want to be hurt." But love will not let me say that. At least not to his face.
So how do I do it? How do I love my friend, but love myself too? How do I love him as I love myeslf? How do I protect him, show him the grace that God has given him, and stick with him as Jesus would, yet establish wise boundaries that will take care of me too?
Maybe it is simply by forgetting that it's possible I'll be hurt again. Maybe it's by knowing it is possible, but acting as if it weren't. (that whole "if someone asks you to walk a mile with them, then walk two" thing...) Or - maybe... maybe it's by gently and lovingly pointing out the truth: your actions (and lack thereof) have been hurtful, my friend. It is not okay that you left. I am glad you are back, but please - please, don't do that again....
I am not sure. I do not know what to do. But I am praying - oh, how I am praying! - that I will. For in spite of the hurt I have suffered by his absence, I do so love my friend.
Oh, Jesus. Please teach me how to love as You do. You so dearly loved Judas, despite what You knew was in his heart - You did not deny him Your friendship. Please give me the strength to love my friend that much.
Jemila wrote something yesterday that touched my heart so deeply as I've been praying about this. She said that it's possible to write "new endings to old story-lines." My friend and I have been down this road before, in different circumstances, but with the same basic plot. But maybe - maybe - this time will be different. I don't know. But walking away from this means loss. For both of us. There has already been loss. But maybe we can both learn and grow and become more like Jesus, if I stay. If I choose the way of love. A way that makes no sense in a world of justice, but makes so much sense in the world of mercy, which - He tells us - triumphs over justice anyway.
it's not about the flowers
Happy Valentine's Day!
Depending on ... well, any number of factors, really - reading that probably elicited any number of responses. Wry grins. Political rants about greeting card holidays. Warm fuzzies. You name the emotion - somebody probably felt it. Joy. Sorrow. Rage...
Valentine's Day is a weird holiday, at least here in the States. Overpriced chocolate and flowers that cost twice as much this week as they do the entire rest of the year. Silly decorations. Teddy bears. (really? whose idea was that?) Sugared-up kids on holiday. It's craziness, I tell you.
Nevertheless, I still grinned when I got the fancy-shmancy e-card from my dad today. Fairies flying about, decorating a magical world. Pretty music. Made me feel like a kid again for a couple of minutes. Like maybe magic - miracles - really can happen. It reminded me of Valentine's Day when I was a kid, and coming down to breakfast to find a box of candy - just for me - and a card from my dad, telling me I was loved. Special. Worth something.
The holiday can stink for single adults. So much romance shoved down our throats - the implication that because we don't have that, we've somehow abysmally failed as functional people... but it's all a LIE, people. We haven't failed. And Valentine's Day is a commercial crock.
But do you know why it sells?
It sells because we all want to know that we're special. That someone loves us. That we are worth loving.
So I have good news for you. You are special. You are loved. And you are worth loving - because you are created in the image of an incredibly creative God, who knew you before you were born, and who has an amazing plan for your life - a plan far greater than you've probably dared to dream yet.
So rejoice in that, this Valentine's Day - whether you have someone "special" or not. Because Someone incredibly special has you, in the palm of His hand. And He loves you, very much. (and if you heard that in your head in the voice of a certain talking tomato... well. it's true.) :)
Thank you to Kathryn, at Good In Parts, for an excellent post on love this week. And to Jake, who posted this last year.
And to all of you who so faithfully read these frequently random glimpses into my head - Happy Valentine's Day, and may you know God's love for you.
Grace and peace,
Happy
oh, and p.s. -- since I'm working on being more transparent this year, I'll confess it. I have a dozen roses on my corner table. But I bought them myself. They were on sale at the grocery store, and I like roses... :)
you have been counted worthy...
I was in line at the store the other day, and there was an older gentleman in front of me. He had only a handful of things - I forget what most of them were, but he was buying a large bottle of rum and a bucket of fried chicken from the deli. He was a weathered sort of man - deep lines of worry and unhappiness etched on his face - the sort of guy who would be completely believable as an old New England sailor if you put him in a yellow slicker and Wellingtons, and gave him a pipe and a rainhat and a wooden leg. I looked at him, and I looked at his dinner, and I thought, wow. How sad. What is it that has brought you here? I imagined him going home to an empty house, watching tv, and reading the paper, and having chicken and rum for dinner. Amazing how quickly we judge and concoct potential storylines, isn't it?
The lady at the checkout was extremely nice. She chattered at him as she rang up his groceries, and joked about remembering to take a break now because the chicken smelled so good. He kind of half-smiled at her as he left, and she wished him a good evening. Then she turned to me, and said, "He always seems so sad. So I try to make him laugh when he comes. If I can make him smile, that's something. He really needs to."
I love it that someone in a large grocery store has paid attention to the people coming through her line - that she remembers him, and tho she doesn't know his story, she cares enough to risk seeming a little foolish simply in hopes of getting to smile... which granted, is a small thing - but it's also amazing how a smile can completely change your day. I want to be that kind of person - the kind of person who notices the people around her, and starts to know and care about their stories. I do that with those that are closest to me, and with a number of blogospherical friends - but there are so very many people in the course of a day with whom I do not even make eye contact... That can change. I can be more loving than that.
And sure, it's risky. There are times when we will love ridiculously much, and it will be unappreciated, unseen, or unrequited even. There are times when we will be (or feel) betrayed and the pain of it will be suffocating, and we will need to remember how to breathe again. Love, however, does not look at that risk and retreat. It looks at that risk, and maybe it takes a deep breath and has to summon up some chutspa, but it loves anyway. It remains patient, it stays kind. It refuses to be envious, it chooses the road of humility, and it does not draw attention to itself in a boastful manner. It will not respond to mistreatment (either real or perceived) rudely. It does not seek its own gain. It doesn't go getting torqued off by just anything, and it forgets whatever wrongs have been done to it. It never delights in evil, and always rejoices with the truth. It protects. It trusts. It keeps hoping in the face of complete and utter hopelessness. It does not give up. And it never fails. It is always love.
Have you ever thought about that in relation to Jesus? It just struck me this morning (probably again, tho it feels like new revelation) that this is exactly the attitude Jesus had, even as He was nailed to a cross. He forgave all the wrong as it was being done. He stayed love. And love did not fail. In fact, He succeeded. Love literally "saved the day" - He saved us. He rescued us. He rescued me.
So even in those times when it is hard to love - when other roads would be "understandable" - I will choose love. I will risk it, to be like Him. And tho I may never be dragged before the Sanhedrin and beaten for my faith as the disciples were (Acts 5:41), I am sure there are other ways in which I will suffer for this choice. But I will count it all joy, to be counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name of Jesus - to be known as one who walked His way.
I can't do it by myself, Jesus. If I try to, I will screw it up. But You can make this true of me. You can so sanctify my heart and my soul that choosing love is just my natural response to anything, no matter what it is. Make it so, Lord, please. And may Your love shining through me reach this broken and desperately hurting world. Amen.
The lady at the checkout was extremely nice. She chattered at him as she rang up his groceries, and joked about remembering to take a break now because the chicken smelled so good. He kind of half-smiled at her as he left, and she wished him a good evening. Then she turned to me, and said, "He always seems so sad. So I try to make him laugh when he comes. If I can make him smile, that's something. He really needs to."
I love it that someone in a large grocery store has paid attention to the people coming through her line - that she remembers him, and tho she doesn't know his story, she cares enough to risk seeming a little foolish simply in hopes of getting to smile... which granted, is a small thing - but it's also amazing how a smile can completely change your day. I want to be that kind of person - the kind of person who notices the people around her, and starts to know and care about their stories. I do that with those that are closest to me, and with a number of blogospherical friends - but there are so very many people in the course of a day with whom I do not even make eye contact... That can change. I can be more loving than that.
And sure, it's risky. There are times when we will love ridiculously much, and it will be unappreciated, unseen, or unrequited even. There are times when we will be (or feel) betrayed and the pain of it will be suffocating, and we will need to remember how to breathe again. Love, however, does not look at that risk and retreat. It looks at that risk, and maybe it takes a deep breath and has to summon up some chutspa, but it loves anyway. It remains patient, it stays kind. It refuses to be envious, it chooses the road of humility, and it does not draw attention to itself in a boastful manner. It will not respond to mistreatment (either real or perceived) rudely. It does not seek its own gain. It doesn't go getting torqued off by just anything, and it forgets whatever wrongs have been done to it. It never delights in evil, and always rejoices with the truth. It protects. It trusts. It keeps hoping in the face of complete and utter hopelessness. It does not give up. And it never fails. It is always love.
Have you ever thought about that in relation to Jesus? It just struck me this morning (probably again, tho it feels like new revelation) that this is exactly the attitude Jesus had, even as He was nailed to a cross. He forgave all the wrong as it was being done. He stayed love. And love did not fail. In fact, He succeeded. Love literally "saved the day" - He saved us. He rescued us. He rescued me.
So even in those times when it is hard to love - when other roads would be "understandable" - I will choose love. I will risk it, to be like Him. And tho I may never be dragged before the Sanhedrin and beaten for my faith as the disciples were (Acts 5:41), I am sure there are other ways in which I will suffer for this choice. But I will count it all joy, to be counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name of Jesus - to be known as one who walked His way.
I can't do it by myself, Jesus. If I try to, I will screw it up. But You can make this true of me. You can so sanctify my heart and my soul that choosing love is just my natural response to anything, no matter what it is. Make it so, Lord, please. And may Your love shining through me reach this broken and desperately hurting world. Amen.
intentionality
so a few of us have been talking... (that's where it always starts, isn't it?) and this word, "intentionality," keeps popping up.
Webster's illuminating definition of intentionality is to do something with intention. (lol) So I looked up intention, too. To do something intentionally is to resolve to do it; it involves purpose, meaning, and significance. You do it because it matters. Which means you probably care. Getting intentional, then, is actually going and doing something because you care...
I saw a picture of that last Sunday when I attended the morning worship service at a very nice little Presbyterian church in the next town over. I'd driven by it several times a week for a few months, and had been meaning to go - so last Sunday, in spite of the fact that it was actually snowing (kind of) and I was going to be 10 minutes late, I went.
They're strategic, let me tell you.
At the end of the driveway, there are all sorts of signs (some of which are pretty punny) welcoming you to their church and inviting you to pull in. There's a lot of trees, so it's hard to see what you're pulling into exactly. It wasn't the parking lot I expected! It was a gravel driveway that led up to what looked like a really big house. But there were signs, so I knew I was in the right place. I parked on the side of the driveway by a large pond, and walked up the drive to the house. The sign said the office was thru the doors I was approaching and the sanctuary was down the hill and around the corner. There were floor to ceiling windows on that side of the house, so I thought I'd try to sneak in through the office. Surely there was a hallway or an elevator or something.
Oh, no. The offices were on an open balcony wrapped around 3/4 of the sanctuary. There were no stairs. I could see the pastor's head over the railing from the door. So I went back out. No way to sneak around the back. There was only one way in - down the hill, past the really big window. The pastor would definitely see me approaching...
So I told the introvert in me to shut up and tromped down the hill past the windows and in through the doors of the entry. I found a bulletin with the order of service easily, and an usher who had (wonders!) spotted me coming, came around and opened the door. All thoughts of slipping in unnoticed died quickly. They were seated in the round, pretty much. So I went to slip into the closest empty chair, but caught the usher's hesitation. I turned and looked at him. He was a really nice older gentleman. "Do you see somewhere you'd like to sit?" he asked. "well, it doesn't really matter," I said, as I'd realized I'd already goofed and was supposed to let him do his job and find me somewhere to go. "Come this way," he said.
And we walked all around the back of the room (past the big windows again) and to the far side of the sanctuary. Every single person in the room knew I was there by the time I found a seat as far as possible from the exit. There was absolutely no way I was going to leave without talking to someone. I was also about 5 yards from the table with coffee and cookies on it.
Nice. These people were good, I will grant them that.
And you know, for all that I just joked about it - they really were. And it was as genuine as it was intentional. They were honestly glad to see me. They hoped I would come back. They didn't pressure me to stay longer. They asked questions about where I lived and how I'd found the church - but didn't pry.
Their worship space was really interesting too. The design of your worship space can say a lot about what you value - it doesn't always, because sometimes we're not lucky enough to get to design it from the ground up, and sometimes we're stuck with ridiculously high platforms and whatnot - but these people just built their space, and they'd obviously put a lot of thought into it. It was well-done. It was nice. Obviously pricey, but tasteful. There were all the elements of a traditional church - altar, podium for the pastor/lectionary readers, the flags, hm... not sure if there was a cross or not (I ended up unfortunately behind a pole and couldn't see much) - grand piano just off to the side, the aforementioned poles/pillars that reminded me of older buildings... but the whole room was carpeted, and there were two gigantic and likely functional fireplaces. The chairs were set up in the round, and could be easily cleared or rearranged. And those windows overlooked the pond. It was beautiful.
But it was small.
It's a brand new building, and while there were seats, they don't have any room to grow.
During the announcements/concerns portion of the service, this guy talked about how they'd called hundreds of people in the area to invite them to Thanksgiving/Christmas services and tell them about their church. (They've been a couple towns over in an office park for awhile, so they're reaching out to their new neighbors.) He read a letter written by one of the women they'd talked to, and she'd been really blessed by the conversation and the fact that someone cared about her. When he finished reading, the man was quiet for a minute, and then said, in a broken sort of voice with the hint of tears in it, "We reached someone." And everyone, after a second, clapped a little.
It made me want to cry. I mean, yes, we should always rejoice when we are able to reach someone with the gospel - but that it should be so novel, so... unexpected... such an answer to prayer... People, this is the CHURCH! It's what she does....
I hope they reach a lot more people. And I hope their contractor is able to add on to their building, or that they're planning on adding another service... And I hope I never forget it, the way he said, "We reached someone." I want to be broken and humbled and deeply glad for every soul to whom I am privileged to be the hands and feet of Christ, but I never want to feel that as a rarity.
Teach me, sweet Jesus, how to reach out to this lost and broken world, with all the intentionality that You do. Amen.
Webster's illuminating definition of intentionality is to do something with intention. (lol) So I looked up intention, too. To do something intentionally is to resolve to do it; it involves purpose, meaning, and significance. You do it because it matters. Which means you probably care. Getting intentional, then, is actually going and doing something because you care...
I saw a picture of that last Sunday when I attended the morning worship service at a very nice little Presbyterian church in the next town over. I'd driven by it several times a week for a few months, and had been meaning to go - so last Sunday, in spite of the fact that it was actually snowing (kind of) and I was going to be 10 minutes late, I went.
They're strategic, let me tell you.
At the end of the driveway, there are all sorts of signs (some of which are pretty punny) welcoming you to their church and inviting you to pull in. There's a lot of trees, so it's hard to see what you're pulling into exactly. It wasn't the parking lot I expected! It was a gravel driveway that led up to what looked like a really big house. But there were signs, so I knew I was in the right place. I parked on the side of the driveway by a large pond, and walked up the drive to the house. The sign said the office was thru the doors I was approaching and the sanctuary was down the hill and around the corner. There were floor to ceiling windows on that side of the house, so I thought I'd try to sneak in through the office. Surely there was a hallway or an elevator or something.
Oh, no. The offices were on an open balcony wrapped around 3/4 of the sanctuary. There were no stairs. I could see the pastor's head over the railing from the door. So I went back out. No way to sneak around the back. There was only one way in - down the hill, past the really big window. The pastor would definitely see me approaching...
So I told the introvert in me to shut up and tromped down the hill past the windows and in through the doors of the entry. I found a bulletin with the order of service easily, and an usher who had (wonders!) spotted me coming, came around and opened the door. All thoughts of slipping in unnoticed died quickly. They were seated in the round, pretty much. So I went to slip into the closest empty chair, but caught the usher's hesitation. I turned and looked at him. He was a really nice older gentleman. "Do you see somewhere you'd like to sit?" he asked. "well, it doesn't really matter," I said, as I'd realized I'd already goofed and was supposed to let him do his job and find me somewhere to go. "Come this way," he said.
And we walked all around the back of the room (past the big windows again) and to the far side of the sanctuary. Every single person in the room knew I was there by the time I found a seat as far as possible from the exit. There was absolutely no way I was going to leave without talking to someone. I was also about 5 yards from the table with coffee and cookies on it.
Nice. These people were good, I will grant them that.
And you know, for all that I just joked about it - they really were. And it was as genuine as it was intentional. They were honestly glad to see me. They hoped I would come back. They didn't pressure me to stay longer. They asked questions about where I lived and how I'd found the church - but didn't pry.
Their worship space was really interesting too. The design of your worship space can say a lot about what you value - it doesn't always, because sometimes we're not lucky enough to get to design it from the ground up, and sometimes we're stuck with ridiculously high platforms and whatnot - but these people just built their space, and they'd obviously put a lot of thought into it. It was well-done. It was nice. Obviously pricey, but tasteful. There were all the elements of a traditional church - altar, podium for the pastor/lectionary readers, the flags, hm... not sure if there was a cross or not (I ended up unfortunately behind a pole and couldn't see much) - grand piano just off to the side, the aforementioned poles/pillars that reminded me of older buildings... but the whole room was carpeted, and there were two gigantic and likely functional fireplaces. The chairs were set up in the round, and could be easily cleared or rearranged. And those windows overlooked the pond. It was beautiful.
But it was small.
It's a brand new building, and while there were seats, they don't have any room to grow.
During the announcements/concerns portion of the service, this guy talked about how they'd called hundreds of people in the area to invite them to Thanksgiving/Christmas services and tell them about their church. (They've been a couple towns over in an office park for awhile, so they're reaching out to their new neighbors.) He read a letter written by one of the women they'd talked to, and she'd been really blessed by the conversation and the fact that someone cared about her. When he finished reading, the man was quiet for a minute, and then said, in a broken sort of voice with the hint of tears in it, "We reached someone." And everyone, after a second, clapped a little.
It made me want to cry. I mean, yes, we should always rejoice when we are able to reach someone with the gospel - but that it should be so novel, so... unexpected... such an answer to prayer... People, this is the CHURCH! It's what she does....
I hope they reach a lot more people. And I hope their contractor is able to add on to their building, or that they're planning on adding another service... And I hope I never forget it, the way he said, "We reached someone." I want to be broken and humbled and deeply glad for every soul to whom I am privileged to be the hands and feet of Christ, but I never want to feel that as a rarity.
Teach me, sweet Jesus, how to reach out to this lost and broken world, with all the intentionality that You do. Amen.
this delicate dance between grace and love
Over the past week I've had a lot of tough conversations, and read a few things that have profoundly disturbed me, and it's gotten me thinking about this delicate dance between grace and love.
"...all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus." (Romans 3:23-24) This is the truth and the gospel - we have all completely screwed up on any number of levels, and worse: we, without Christ, are "by nature objects of wrath" (Ephesians 2:3) - but there is grace and redemption and forgiveness and reconciliation because of Christ's death and resurrection, and this is good news!!
But sometimes I fear that in the name of love we do not speak the truth as clearly as we ought. That in the name of compassion we adopt this "I'm okay and you're okay" philosophy that looks and sounds so nice and kind, but is actually full of hell, because it's a lie. We are not okay, and we have never been okay - it is why Christ came and died for us. There was a price paid for our freedom! And to deny that we have needed that ransom is to deny love...
Hebrews 4:15-16 tells us that "we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."
He gets it, this God of ours, that temptation to sin comes at us in a zillion different ways, because not only does He see it, but He's been there, on the receiving end. He didn't give in to it, but He knows what it feels like be in those situations, and He knows how to help us in our time of need. We can come to Him in confidence, knowing that we will find mercy and grace. Romans 8:26: "In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express." His heart is filled with compassion for us, and He receives us as we are.
But He does not leave us that way.
The Bible tells us, "Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." (Romans 12:2) This is a process that takes cooperation between the Spirit at work in us (sanctifying us and making us more like Jesus) and we ourselves (choosing to allow Him to do it). It is not always easy, this becoming holy - it requires us to die to ourselves, and we do not always want to do that - and sometimes we want to but we don't want to but we do want to...
I love the way Peterson paraphrases this in the Message: "It happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge. I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn't that the real question? The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different." (Romans 7:21-25)
I love the way Peterson paraphrases this in the Message: "It happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge. I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn't that the real question? The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different." (Romans 7:21-25)
And that's the thing - He acted to set things right. Because there were things that needed to be set right. And there are things that still do...
"Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. - 1 John 4:7-9
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. - 1 Corinthians 13:4-8
God is love - and love rejoices in the truth.
I did a word search on Bible Gateway, looking for that verse about speaking the truth in love, and it turned up a number of verses that taken together make it very clear that there is a deep correlation between truth and love. Not surprising, as the Word tells us both that God is love and that Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life... (John 14:6)
Love will always tell you the truth. Paul tells us that "...speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ." (Ephesians 4:15)
I want that. I want Truth-speakers in my life who will tell me when I am getting it wrong, so that in all things I will grow up into Christ. And I want to be a Truth-speaker - not because of some self-righteous "I'm right and you're wrong" mentality - but because I love people and because I want to spend eternity with everyone.
The goal is godliness... the heart is love... and love does not lie to you and tell you that something wrong is okay when it isn't. It does not tell you, as you are walking into sin, that it's fine that you're doing it, because that's just where you are right now, and that everything's going to work out, and not to worry about it. It does not tell you that just because your situation is atrocious, that just because something horrible has happened to you, that you are justified in responding to it in an ungodly manner. Love turns and looks straight at that which would destroy it and continues to be love. ("Forgive them, Father, for they do not know what they are doing.")
God is love. He is also the source of life. And love values life - always.
About a week ago we started talking about "the abortion issue" at Torch, as we began praying for the upcoming election, and for God's kingdom to come and His will to be done on earth as it is in heaven. It has been a week of hard conversations and fervent prayer, and I have debated saying anything at all... but I cannot be silent. More than 50 million babies have been robbed of their destinies in this nation alone, and it is time for the bloodshed to stop. It is time for the Church to repent of her indifference and to do something about it. Our God can move mountains. He can heal our land.
He can also heal people.
There is grace. There is always, always, always grace. But "what shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?" (Romans 6:1-2)
I had the incredible privilege of watching /participating in (via the Internet) a prayer meeting in San Diego, CA last night, led by Lou Engle. At one point in the night, we prayed a prayer together that many involved with Bound4Life have been praying already for months:
"Jesus, I plead Your Blood over my sins and the sins of my nation. God, end abortion, and send revival to America."
It is a simple prayer, and it is heartfelt. And I am so humbled to be allowed into God's throne room, to repent on behalf of my nation, and to plead for the mercy He so freely gives.
prayer and fasting and faith on the earth - part one
I've been kicking a few thoughts around in my head, and working on this post for ages, and I have finally realized that it's going to take me awhile to sort it all out in my head... so, rather than not post anything for weeks, I thought maybe I'd give you a glimpse into what I'm thinking about. :) This only about half a thought so far, so please keep that in mind, but feedback, discussion, etc. is still more than welcome.
About a month and a half ago, Jon wrote an incredible post that raised a lot of interesting questions for a few of us, about the "greater things" that Jesus talked about, and what that really means. Jesus said, "I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it." (John 14:12-14)
I've already written a fairly lengthy post on this verse and others like it, and a month and a half later, I am still mulling all this over. I still find myself incredibly challenged to seriously consider if I really believe that it's true - and if I do, then why do I not act on it?
A couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine was really not feeling well, and my heart totally went out to him. "Can I pray for you?" "Absolutely." So I went and got Stephie, and eventually we prayed.
It turned out to be quite the experience. I'm not really sure what it was like on his end, or Stephie's for that matter. But there were two dimensions of it for me that just left me wondering.
First, my hand on his shoulder got really tingly. Like seriously, pins and needles - but there was no "real" explanation for why that would happen - we were all sitting down and he was sitting on the floor, so it's not like my arm was falling asleep because I had it raised or anything. I don't really know how to describe it. And I found myself wondering - is this the power of God, flowing through me into my friend to heal him? I'm not sure... but he said later that he felt a lot better when we were done praying for him... which means that God was doing something...
Second, I ran smack into something we talked about on Jon's blog last month. Jon said, "i don't think it is simply a lack of faith that keeps these things from happening. i think it is because we have never practiced or tried, which is because of our lack of faith, which is because of a lack of practical examples." and then he raised a question:
have you ever tried to heal someone? and i'm not talking about "praying for healing." although that is the age old tradition within the church, i don't ever see jesus or the apostles doing that. they don't sit around, talking to the air saying things like, "dear god, if it be your will, please take away her cancer. may it be so, lord. may it be so. for your glory. amen."
no. they walk up, look the person in the eye and say, "be healed." they command it to be so with confident assertion.
That really tripped me up, I have to tell you. Because he's right. That's how they did it.
So this is what I said then:
I'm not willing to jump into the boat that says we can't do this. I've yet to walk up to someone and tell them to be well. I don't know if I can - and to be honest, I AM concerned about what it could do to someone's faith if I said it, they believed it would happen, and then it didn't. So there's the fear that prevents me from stepping out. I'm not a fan of the people who whack you on the head and tell you to be healed and wait for you to fall over - tho I do believe that in spite of the hype and in spite of the people who lie and twist it all for their own glory, honest people who are truly seeking God will still meet Him (have still met Him - I was one of them) in meetings like that.
But what if we could do it the way Peter and John did. Can you imagine that guy at the temple gate? His friends (or family) drop him off in his usual spot for another day of begging. Wow, that'll do a lot for your self-esteem... So Peter had to ask him to meet his gaze. What did that man see in Peter's eyes? What did John see as he watched? I don't know, but I think it was love. Compassion. A truly heart-felt desire to, on behalf of Christ, give this man a shred of dignity he had never known. I can almost see Peter grin as he reached down and took the man by the hand, the twinkle in his eyes as he tells him to get up. This man has never walked a day in his life. And AS he gets up (putting his own faith in line with Peter's?) his ankles become strong, and all the muscles in his legs he's never used are suddenly in working order, to the point where he can jump and leap in a way he'd only ever dreamed of for his whole life.
Imagine it, if we could bring that kind of joy to someone - the contagion it would be - how quickly the gospel would spread...
I don't know if I'm able to get past my lack of willingness to act on what I say I believe - but I hope I will. Because I think part of the point of miracles and whatnot (lol - "miracles and whatnot" - Happy speak for "signs and wonders") is to AID us in our faith - to help us believe. Jesus himself said something to the effect of, "oh for heaven's sake, if you don't believe what I SAY, then at least believe on the evidence of the miracles themselves" - that's paraphrased, but I think it's the jist and you can look it up in John - somewhere between 14-16, I think. :) He performed miracles as a testimony to who He was - and I think that's still the point. That, and just love...
(It's John 14:11, by the way.)
So that story in Acts 3 that I referenced in those comments has completely captured my imagination... and there is this very small - but very vocal - part of me that is starting to wonder if it is possible to say what Peter said, "Silver and gold I do not have, but what I have I give you..."
"What I have... "
...What do I have? And is it really mine to give away?...
I didn't say it.
...but I wanted to.
I wonder what would happen?
About a month and a half ago, Jon wrote an incredible post that raised a lot of interesting questions for a few of us, about the "greater things" that Jesus talked about, and what that really means. Jesus said, "I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it." (John 14:12-14)
I've already written a fairly lengthy post on this verse and others like it, and a month and a half later, I am still mulling all this over. I still find myself incredibly challenged to seriously consider if I really believe that it's true - and if I do, then why do I not act on it?
A couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine was really not feeling well, and my heart totally went out to him. "Can I pray for you?" "Absolutely." So I went and got Stephie, and eventually we prayed.
It turned out to be quite the experience. I'm not really sure what it was like on his end, or Stephie's for that matter. But there were two dimensions of it for me that just left me wondering.
First, my hand on his shoulder got really tingly. Like seriously, pins and needles - but there was no "real" explanation for why that would happen - we were all sitting down and he was sitting on the floor, so it's not like my arm was falling asleep because I had it raised or anything. I don't really know how to describe it. And I found myself wondering - is this the power of God, flowing through me into my friend to heal him? I'm not sure... but he said later that he felt a lot better when we were done praying for him... which means that God was doing something...
Second, I ran smack into something we talked about on Jon's blog last month. Jon said, "i don't think it is simply a lack of faith that keeps these things from happening. i think it is because we have never practiced or tried, which is because of our lack of faith, which is because of a lack of practical examples." and then he raised a question:
have you ever tried to heal someone? and i'm not talking about "praying for healing." although that is the age old tradition within the church, i don't ever see jesus or the apostles doing that. they don't sit around, talking to the air saying things like, "dear god, if it be your will, please take away her cancer. may it be so, lord. may it be so. for your glory. amen."
no. they walk up, look the person in the eye and say, "be healed." they command it to be so with confident assertion.
That really tripped me up, I have to tell you. Because he's right. That's how they did it.
So this is what I said then:
I'm not willing to jump into the boat that says we can't do this. I've yet to walk up to someone and tell them to be well. I don't know if I can - and to be honest, I AM concerned about what it could do to someone's faith if I said it, they believed it would happen, and then it didn't. So there's the fear that prevents me from stepping out. I'm not a fan of the people who whack you on the head and tell you to be healed and wait for you to fall over - tho I do believe that in spite of the hype and in spite of the people who lie and twist it all for their own glory, honest people who are truly seeking God will still meet Him (have still met Him - I was one of them) in meetings like that.
But what if we could do it the way Peter and John did. Can you imagine that guy at the temple gate? His friends (or family) drop him off in his usual spot for another day of begging. Wow, that'll do a lot for your self-esteem... So Peter had to ask him to meet his gaze. What did that man see in Peter's eyes? What did John see as he watched? I don't know, but I think it was love. Compassion. A truly heart-felt desire to, on behalf of Christ, give this man a shred of dignity he had never known. I can almost see Peter grin as he reached down and took the man by the hand, the twinkle in his eyes as he tells him to get up. This man has never walked a day in his life. And AS he gets up (putting his own faith in line with Peter's?) his ankles become strong, and all the muscles in his legs he's never used are suddenly in working order, to the point where he can jump and leap in a way he'd only ever dreamed of for his whole life.
Imagine it, if we could bring that kind of joy to someone - the contagion it would be - how quickly the gospel would spread...
I don't know if I'm able to get past my lack of willingness to act on what I say I believe - but I hope I will. Because I think part of the point of miracles and whatnot (lol - "miracles and whatnot" - Happy speak for "signs and wonders") is to AID us in our faith - to help us believe. Jesus himself said something to the effect of, "oh for heaven's sake, if you don't believe what I SAY, then at least believe on the evidence of the miracles themselves" - that's paraphrased, but I think it's the jist and you can look it up in John - somewhere between 14-16, I think. :) He performed miracles as a testimony to who He was - and I think that's still the point. That, and just love...
(It's John 14:11, by the way.)
So that story in Acts 3 that I referenced in those comments has completely captured my imagination... and there is this very small - but very vocal - part of me that is starting to wonder if it is possible to say what Peter said, "Silver and gold I do not have, but what I have I give you..."
"What I have... "
...What do I have? And is it really mine to give away?...
I didn't say it.
...but I wanted to.
I wonder what would happen?
unexpected
i went to the birthday party of a good friend last night; it was really fun, and we had a great time, and right in the middle of all of it, God was at work in one of the most unexpected ways...
i've alluded to the fact that i'm just struggling a bit emotionally and mentally right now (see Psalm 13), and part of that is this ongoing war with my anti-failure/perfectionism issues... i hate failing. at anything. especially when it involves letting people down. and last fall i managed to do it royally in a particular situation and there was so much hurt and misunderstanding on both sides that it didn't really seem like there was ever going to be a healthy resolution to that. i mean, i said i was sorry for my part in it, and i left the door open for communication (or i thought i had), but the other person either never saw it or never walked through it, and eventually our ways parted completely, and it's been simply months since we've talked. the last time i saw him we didn't even say hi... and it isn't something that's been in the forefront of my mind much - it was relegated to the mental drawer of "things i really wish i'd handled a little better/don't do that again" - but i was thinking about it again on Thursday, and found myself extremely upset about the whole thing, just randomly, and i had to take it back to God and say "i don't know what to do, but my eyes are on You."
and this guy with whom i'd had such a falling out was at the party last night.
i walked in and thought, "oh, no - this is going to be so awkward..." but after a few minutes, i decided that, whether it was my turn to say something or not (and i'd been opting for "not" for months), i am thirty-three years old and it was high time to just grow up. so after a while i walked over to where he was sitting, sat down nearby, met his eyes, smiled, took a deep breath, and said, "so how are you?" we caught up on random life stuff briefly, and then he had to go to pick up his fiancee, and as he was leaving, we hugged, and i said, "i really am sorry." he said, "thank you. because, Happy, that really hurt." i didn't know what else to say, so i simply said, "i know. and i'm sorry." and he just kind of looked at me, and he smiled, and i said, "don't be a stranger. drop me a line every now and again, and let me know how you are." and he said he would.
it was a weird moment. good, but weird. there's part of me that wishes he'd taken it the next step and said, "i forgive you." there's something about hearing those words that just makes it easier to really let it go... but if he hasn't, i suppose that's not really my issue. i've forgiven him - and i'm most of the way toward forgiving myself (tho exercising grace toward myself is always hard). if he wants to talk more about what actually happened, i know i can do that now. it would still probably be awkward - but i'm not sure i care. i just don't want to be at odds with anybody in God's kingdom over anything. i'm okay with people not agreeing with me or liking me particularly (in theory, anyway. when it comes right down to it, i would like everyone to like me, as previously noted) - but i'm not okay with tension about it. this is my family. these are the people with whom i'm going to spend eternity. even if we're not in agreement over something, i would at least like to get along...or at least be patient and kind and everything else that love is, in my actions toward people...
it was such an unexpected moment. but i'm glad for it. because whether there's ever more conversation about it or not, it seems like a chapter just got closed and it even had a happy twist at the end. i suspect our conversation was something he really needed, and i'm glad God gave me the grace to step outside of myself and have it - and i guess maybe i needed it too. it's definitely one thing now crossed off the list of things that the enemy can throw back in my face. yes, i failed miserably in how i handled that last year. but yesterday? i did "the right thing." and i didn't do it because i felt i had to or because someone told me it was what i was supposed to do - i did it because i love Jesus, and because i really wanted to. and it felt good, to finally be in a place with this where i was driven not by guilt, but by compassion.
and it was pretty sweet. (thanks, God...)
i've alluded to the fact that i'm just struggling a bit emotionally and mentally right now (see Psalm 13), and part of that is this ongoing war with my anti-failure/perfectionism issues... i hate failing. at anything. especially when it involves letting people down. and last fall i managed to do it royally in a particular situation and there was so much hurt and misunderstanding on both sides that it didn't really seem like there was ever going to be a healthy resolution to that. i mean, i said i was sorry for my part in it, and i left the door open for communication (or i thought i had), but the other person either never saw it or never walked through it, and eventually our ways parted completely, and it's been simply months since we've talked. the last time i saw him we didn't even say hi... and it isn't something that's been in the forefront of my mind much - it was relegated to the mental drawer of "things i really wish i'd handled a little better/don't do that again" - but i was thinking about it again on Thursday, and found myself extremely upset about the whole thing, just randomly, and i had to take it back to God and say "i don't know what to do, but my eyes are on You."
and this guy with whom i'd had such a falling out was at the party last night.
i walked in and thought, "oh, no - this is going to be so awkward..." but after a few minutes, i decided that, whether it was my turn to say something or not (and i'd been opting for "not" for months), i am thirty-three years old and it was high time to just grow up. so after a while i walked over to where he was sitting, sat down nearby, met his eyes, smiled, took a deep breath, and said, "so how are you?" we caught up on random life stuff briefly, and then he had to go to pick up his fiancee, and as he was leaving, we hugged, and i said, "i really am sorry." he said, "thank you. because, Happy, that really hurt." i didn't know what else to say, so i simply said, "i know. and i'm sorry." and he just kind of looked at me, and he smiled, and i said, "don't be a stranger. drop me a line every now and again, and let me know how you are." and he said he would.
it was a weird moment. good, but weird. there's part of me that wishes he'd taken it the next step and said, "i forgive you." there's something about hearing those words that just makes it easier to really let it go... but if he hasn't, i suppose that's not really my issue. i've forgiven him - and i'm most of the way toward forgiving myself (tho exercising grace toward myself is always hard). if he wants to talk more about what actually happened, i know i can do that now. it would still probably be awkward - but i'm not sure i care. i just don't want to be at odds with anybody in God's kingdom over anything. i'm okay with people not agreeing with me or liking me particularly (in theory, anyway. when it comes right down to it, i would like everyone to like me, as previously noted) - but i'm not okay with tension about it. this is my family. these are the people with whom i'm going to spend eternity. even if we're not in agreement over something, i would at least like to get along...or at least be patient and kind and everything else that love is, in my actions toward people...
it was such an unexpected moment. but i'm glad for it. because whether there's ever more conversation about it or not, it seems like a chapter just got closed and it even had a happy twist at the end. i suspect our conversation was something he really needed, and i'm glad God gave me the grace to step outside of myself and have it - and i guess maybe i needed it too. it's definitely one thing now crossed off the list of things that the enemy can throw back in my face. yes, i failed miserably in how i handled that last year. but yesterday? i did "the right thing." and i didn't do it because i felt i had to or because someone told me it was what i was supposed to do - i did it because i love Jesus, and because i really wanted to. and it felt good, to finally be in a place with this where i was driven not by guilt, but by compassion.
and it was pretty sweet. (thanks, God...)
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