Today is Memorial Day in the U.S.– a day when we honor those who have fallen in battle and given their lives for our country. It is also a day on which we often decorate the gravestones of ancestors and relatives who have passed on. There may seem to be little connection between soldiers of war and civilian great-grannies or uncles, but Memorial Day can stretch to both– especially to Christians. Here’s how I see it:
Soldiers who gave their lives never lived to see the fruits of their sacrifice. They died, never knowing if their sacrifice was in vain. Our ancestors, similarly, poured their efforts into rearing children and living lives of integrity, little knowing how their efforts would be carried on by the next generation. There is a risk in battle– whether a war-time conflict, or just daily survival–a risk that all our hard work and all the perils we face will end in failure. We memorialize those whose efforts did NOT fail. We honor those whose sacrifices made a difference in our lives and in the lives of others. They lived (and died) for a purpose– and we honor that purpose, as well as the individual lives.
All of us are fighting a battle– a spiritual battle– in which our very lives are on the line. Some of us will lose our lives, literally, through imprisonment, persecution, torture, or disastrous choices we make to surrender to the enemy. Others will lose our lives figuratively, giving up our time and our own dreams to a greater cause. We honor those who went before us in this fight. We honor the good examples and the fallen heroes.
Soldiers go where they are sent. They often die and are buried far from their homes, on the battlefield. They may or may not have graves with the rest of their families. Many in our family were immigrants and pioneers, moving far from “home” to start a new life. Some of them moved as the result of war coming to their ancestral home and pushing them to relocate.
Memorials– whether gravestones, statues, monuments, or stories passed down to the next generation– serve as reminders of our priorities– freedom, family, and Faith. God’s people throughout the years have raised memorials to commemorate God’s faithfulness, as well as the high cost of fighting against Sin and its effects.
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial
I pray that on this Memorial Day, we will take time to remember, and give thanks for those who have fought the “good fight” in the name of freedom, and in the name of Faith. But more than that, I pray that we will be inspired to carry on the fight– knowing the risks and weighing the costs–to preserve those things that are most important. Let’s pause to remember– and then let’s move Onward!
19 1-2 Ahab reported to Jezebel everything that Elijah had done, including the massacre of the prophets. Jezebel immediately sent a messenger to Elijah with her threat: “The gods will get you for this and I’ll get even with you! By this time tomorrow you’ll be as dead as any one of those prophets.” 3-5 When Elijah saw how things were, he ran for dear life to Beersheba, far in the south of Judah. He left his young servant there and then went on into the desert another day’s journey. He came to a lone broom bush and collapsed in its shade, wanting in the worst way to be done with it all—to just die: “Enough of this, God! Take my life—I’m ready to join my ancestors in the grave!” Exhausted, he fell asleep under the lone broom bush. Suddenly an angel shook him awake and said, “Get up and eat!” 6 He looked around and, to his surprise, right by his head were a loaf of bread baked on some coals and a jug of water. He ate the meal and went back to sleep. 7 The angel of God came back, shook him awake again, and said, “Get up and eat some more—you’ve got a long journey ahead of you.” 8-9 He got up, ate and drank his fill, and set out. Nourished by that meal, he walked forty days and nights, all the way to the mountain of God, to Horeb. When he got there, he crawled into a cave and went to sleep. Then the word of God came to him: “So Elijah, what are you doing here?” 10 “I’ve been working my heart out for the God-of-the-Angel-Armies,” said Elijah. “The people of Israel have abandoned your covenant, destroyed the places of worship, and murdered your prophets. I’m the only one left, and now they’re trying to kill me.” 11-12 Then he was told, “Go, stand on the mountain at attention before God. God will pass by.” A hurricane wind ripped through the mountains and shattered the rocks before God, but God wasn’t to be found in the wind; after the wind an earthquake, but God wasn’t in the earthquake; and after the earthquake fire, but God wasn’t in the fire; and after the fire a gentle and quiet whisper.
13-14 When Elijah heard the quiet voice, he muffled his face with his great cloak, went to the mouth of the cave, and stood there. A quiet voice asked, “So Elijah, now tell me, what are you doing here?” Elijah said it again, “I’ve been working my heart out for God, the God-of-the-Angel-Armies, because the people of Israel have abandoned your covenant, destroyed your places of worship, and murdered your prophets. I’m the only one left, and now they’re trying to kill me.” 15-18 God said, “Go back the way you came through the desert to Damascus. When you get there anoint Hazael; make him king over Aram. Then anoint Jehu son of Nimshi; make him king over Israel. Finally, anoint Elisha son of Shaphat from Abel Meholah to succeed you as prophet. Anyone who escapes death by Hazael will be killed by Jehu; and anyone who escapes death by Jehu will be killed by Elisha. Meanwhile, I’m preserving for myself seven thousand souls: the knees that haven’t bowed to the god Baal, the mouths that haven’t kissed his image.” 19 Elijah went straight out and found Elisha son of Shaphat in a field where there were twelve pairs of yoked oxen at work plowing; Elisha was in charge of the twelfth pair. Elijah went up to him and threw his cloak over him. 20 Elisha deserted the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, “Please! Let me kiss my father and mother good-bye—then I’ll follow you.” “Go ahead,” said Elijah, “but, mind you, don’t forget what I’ve just done to you.” 21 So Elisha left; he took his yoke of oxen and butchered them. He made a fire with the plow and tackle and then boiled the meat—a true farewell meal for the family. Then he left and followed Elijah, becoming his right-hand man. 1 Kings 19 (The Message)
As a child, I was confused by this story from the life of Elijah the prophet. Just before this, Elijah had challenged the prophets of Baal and Asherah. He was outnumbered 850 to one, yet he stood defiantly, and asked the people of Israel to choose between their false gods and the one true God. God had produced fire on the mountain and shown His mighty power, while the false prophets were humiliated and later slain. It was a stupendous victory! And yet, Elijah, when told of Queen Jezebel’s anger, fled in terror, hid in the wilderness, and asked for death! Surely, Elijah remembered what God had just accomplished. Surely he knew that the same God who sent fire and ended the drought could protect Elijah from harm. Didn’t he? And I expected that God would react with consternation at this display by Elijah–how ungrateful to throw such a pity party after God had done such a miracle!
But God did the most curious thing. He could have sent a powerful reassurance. He could have ordered Elijah to return to the palace to deal with the wicked king and queen–finish the job and bring divine justice to Israel’s ruling family. He could have called Elijah out over his bad behavior and lack of faith. But God let Elijah whine and run away. And after Elijah threw a temper tantrum, God sent an angel to bring him food and water. Finally, God allowed Elijah to see His power in the forms of a mighty wind, an earthquake, and a fire. And it was THEN, and only then, that God spoke to Elijah in a still, small voice– a whisper– something so intimate and comforting that Elijah could not fail to recognize that it was the voice of God.
God CAN and will do mighty miracles. But so often, He prefers to work in a whisper. He is Glorious, and Powerful, and Omnipotent– yes. But He is also intimate and gentle and nurturing– especially with those who have ears to listen; those who have been broken down; those who need a quiet voice of reassurance and peace.
As I have grown older, I see so much in this passage that I couldn’t see as a child. I see how often I “lose it” just after I think I’ve won a great victory. I see how many times God has come to me in whispers and little gestures– just when I need a gentle hug and a simple reminder of His care. God is not the one who points out my temper tantrums and lack of faith. God doesn’t yell recriminations at me– even when I know I deserve them! I see how often I throw a tantrum, and expect God’s wrath, only to be met with His arms around me, calming me, lifting my head so I can look into His eyes of compassion and mercy. God is my Father– and a gentle, wise, and loving Father. And when He draws me close– He whispers of His Love.
Yes, God sent fire from the mountain. He caused justice to be done upon the false prophets. It was mighty; it was fierce; it was devastating. God IS a God of wrath– and even prophets can get wounded in the fight. There is evil in the world, and when we stand up to it, it is exhausting– even when we know God is with us. But God knows our limits. He will often give us more than we can handle– in our own power– and He will pull us through the kind of trials that test and stretch those limits. But He is also preparing a time and place of rest and His quiet whispers of encouragement and hope when we are tempted to give up.
God didn’t just whisper empty promises or nice-sounding platitudes when He finally spoke to Elijah. He brought a new message– someone else would be God’s instrument of justice for Ahab and Jezebel. Someone else would come alongside Elijah in his ministry. And someone else (7,000 someone else-s in fact!) WERE being faithful. Not only had God been with Elijah in the past, God had been preparing the future for Elijah to receive rest, and for others to rise up and carry on. He could have shouted this message from the mountaintop. But He wanted to whisper His message of hope to a faithful prophet who needed quiet reassurance after a difficult battle.
I don’t know what God wants to whisper to me (or to you) today. But I pray that we will have ears to hear, and hearts to respond. And God will whisper to us, whether we just defeated an army of enemies, or just woke up from a much needed nap! He will gently remind us that He loves us in our tantrums just as He loves us in our victories. And He will whisper, because that’s how close He really is in our every moment!
Bible teacher and author Chuck Swindoll is credited with saying, “I am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent of how I react to it. And so it is with you. We are in charge of our attitudes.” When I was younger, I liked this quote, but I quibbled with the numbers. Surely, we are in control of our reactions and attitudes. And our circumstances don’t determine our lives completely. But just 10%?! What about those whose circumstances are overwhelmingly tragic?
I thought of some of my father’s experiences, and it seemed as though what happened to him in four short years should have had a greater impact on his life. During the four short years that my father was in high school (1945-1948), his family experienced at least three tragedies. Dad grew up on a farm. His dad was a dairy farmer, as was his grandfather. Dad grew up expecting that he would, along with his father and brothers, spend the rest of his life as a farmer. But then, everything changed. First, Dad’s oldest brother was drafted into the Army at the very end of World War 2. Though my uncle was not in combat, he was badly wounded in Germany, as his unit was sent in to find unexploded bombs and land mines, and ordered to clear out rubble. Dad had lost one cousin in the war, and several others had come home wounded or changed, but my uncle’s situation was post-war, and unexpected. It meant more work for my grandfather and the two younger sons, even as they were still in school. It meant uncertainty, as they waited for word from thousands of miles away over several months.
Uncle Jack recovered and returned to the farm. But then, on Christmas Eve, there was a house fire. While the family escaped without major injuries, the house was a total loss. Furniture, clothes, pictures, heirlooms, farm records and financial papers– all gone. Dad moved in with his aunt and uncle to continue his education. But two weeks before graduation, his father died suddenly from complications from emergency gall bladder surgery. My father’s world had been turned upside-down in just a few short years and at a critical juncture in his life.
However, as I’ve matured and thought about it over the years, those events, among other tragedies and triumphs in Dad’s life, really DID only amount to a small percentage of his life. Even numerically/chronologically, those four years were less than ten percent of Dad’s time on earth. Dad couldn’t control the events of those years. He couldn’t have predicted them, and he couldn’t erase them or go back and undo them. But he chose how to respond and react to those events. He learned from them.
Circumstances in our lives, whether tragic or terrific, present us with choices. Will we turn to God, or away from Him? Will we become better, or bitter? Will we seek to assign blame, or seek solutions? My dad and his brothers were not able to continue the dairy farm their father had built up. Without the records and registration papers for the various cows, without their father’s experience and acumen, without money to upgrade their facilities and equipment, they had to sell most of what their father had built up. Uncle Jack kept the farm land, but he took a second job. Dad was drafted and sent to Korea for his own post-war odyssey, and came home to work at the local feed mill, and later in a factory job. He passed away several years ago, partly as a result of complications from gall bladder surgeries.
My dad’s life was impacted and shaped in part by tragic circumstances. But Pastor Swindoll is right– at least 90 percent of my dad’s LIFE was shaped by his attitude and character. My father was a man of faith and integrity. He cherished his family and his role as a father– partly because of the loss of his own dad; but also because of the lasting legacy his father had passed on. He spoke often of his wonderful memories growing up on the farm. He lost out on his dream of being a farmer. But he also made wonderful memories with the life he chose to pursue off the farm– picnics and vacations, family reunions, family devotions, watching baseball (live or on TV), sharing laughter and tears, and making sure we knew we were loved and protected. He ministered to people in the community, mowing lawns for widows, or visiting shut-ins. He taught us to love music, baseball, and animals. He taught us the value of prayer, reading the Bible, and living a life of faith. Dad could have been bitter. He could have chosen to wallow in self-pity or anger. He could have become obsessed with rebuilding the life he “lost” to circumstances. He could have decided that God had “robbed” him of the future he had expected to have. But he chose to believe that God had a plan for his life; one that was bigger than his boyhood dreams and bigger than his expectations. Dad didn’t rise to great wealth and power. In the world’s view, his life was not a great success. He never became rich or famous; he wasn’t powerful or important in politics or business. But the memories he treasured and the relationships he developed were far more than 10% of his life!
As I get older, and look back on the circumstances of my own past, I am encouraged and challenged to think that they represent only a small fraction of my life. I can’t control many of my circumstances– health setbacks, financial struggles, accidents and tragedies. But I can control my attitude and my response. I wanted to marry young and have children and raise a family. But that never happened. I married late, I was barren, and my step-children were already grown. I wanted to live in a big farmhouse; instead I live in a small apartment. But I would not go back and undo the circumstances that have shaped my life. I have marvelous step-children and grandchildren. I have had opportunities that were only possible because I was single for so long and because I was childless. I have a better appreciation for the family I have– including nieces and nephews and cousins– than I might have had if I had been wrapped up in my own smaller family. Dad taught me to trust God’s plans for my tomorrows. That’s what he did. And I choose to do the same– after all, God controls 100% of my future!
Yesterday, I spent time scrolling and playing games on-line. I saw patterns and pictures and memes. I read articles and posts and e-mails.
I learned that the English word “ogre” comes from French, and the French word is from a translation of an Arabic tale. I learned that some dogs can be trained to walk on tightropes. I learned that the least populated state capital in the U.S. is Montpelier, Vermont; the second least populated is Pierre, South Dakota. I learned that grown women will act like second-graders on the floor of the United States House of Representatives, resorting to name-calling and screeching. And that their behavior will be talked about and analyzed for hours afterward.
Today, I spent some time walking around my neighborhood. I saw flowers in bloom. I heard the train as it came through town. I saw houses and cars and people walking their dogs (not on tightropes!)
I learned that it was pleasantly warm outside, but it felt good in the shade. I learned that one of the stores downtown was closed today due to a family crisis. I learned that crews have been working to freshen up the curbs and landscaping around the downtown. I met someone new, and learned that she likes dachshunds (though hers cannot walk on a tightrope).
Tomorrow, I’m going to spend some time with my eyes closed. I’m going to “see” God’s faithfulness as I review my life. I’m going to get a glimpse of how God is working in my life, and in the lives of others around me. (I’m going to wonder about how God will work in other situations.) I’m going to see how small my world is in relation to God’s universe!
I don’t know what I will learn, yet. But I’m quite sure it will be beyond my expectations. And more wonderful than dogs on tightropes and neatly manicured curbs! There is so much more to see! So much more to learn! What majesty!
When I was growing up, we always said grace before our meals. It wasn’t an afterthought; it wasn’t an affectation. It was just part of the meal. We sat down, said grace, and started eating. Sometimes, Dad did the honors; sometimes, it was Mom. And sometimes, my sister or I were asked to say it. It was usually something simple, though it wasn’t always the same. We would say grace at home, around our own table, and we would say grace at restaurants– wherever and whenever our family was together for a meal.
Today, my husband and I have the same tradition. We don’t have children in the house, but he and I take turns saying grace, and if one of the grandkids happens to visit, they know they may be asked to take a turn, as well. If David and I are eating out, we still take a quiet moment to hold hands, close our eyes, and say grace. Some times, other diners or wait staff will stare (or glare) or comment, but most of the time, they don’t even notice.
So why do we do it? Is it no more than force of habit? Are we just “holier” than other diners? Do we really think it impresses God if we say grace, or that God will be angry if we don’t say it?
No. But we believe saying grace is important. Here are some reasons why:
Grace is about gratitude. In our busy lives, it can be tempting to take things for granted– even things like food and family. We are BLESSED to have food to eat, and family with whom to share it. We are blessed when we go out to eat to have others cook and clean up for us. We are blessed whenever our family or neighbors can share a meal with us. God is a loving and gracious God, and grace is a time to remember our blessings.
Grace slows us down for just a minute to REMEMBER who we are, and who God is! All our blessings– including food and family and time to share them– come from God. Grace reminds us to be humble as well as thankful. It reminds us to see God’s hand at work in even the smallest and most mundane happenings in our lives. And it reminds us that God is faithful in all things, big and small.
Grace also helps us to remember to thank the people involved in our meals– the ability to buy groceries; the work it takes to prepare our food; friends and family who share our meals; neighbors who have given or traded with us for food; the cooks and wait staff that serve us at restaurants. Saying grace helps us SEE how we are interconnected; how we depend on God and on others in every area of our lives.
Grace gives us the opportunity to lift up our immediate worries and give them to God, instead of holding on to them. Grace is more than just a quick word about food. It is a time for us as a couple (or a family) to pray together about worries that are on our minds. Then, instead of being stressed as we eat, we can stay “in the moment” with each other, and enjoy mealtime together! It’s also a great way to share our thoughts, feelings, and concerns in a safe and informal environment. How much better mealtime is when stress and frustration are diminished, and joy and peace are given a seat at the table, instead!
Saying grace is much more than just a quaint habit from a bygone era. It is a vital part of our growth as individual Christians, and as a Christian couple. I believe it is a simple and quiet witness to others. I believe it has benefits for our digestion, our attitudes, and our emotions, as well.
Grace– not just the mealtime prayer, but the concept of Grace– is not loud or showy. It is, however, consistent, lovely, and powerful. May we say grace; may we show grace; may we live in the power of Grace today!
I love flipping through old photo albums. I’m reminded of special times and special people. Sometimes, the memories make me a little sad, as I see familiar faces of those who have passed away, or times of struggle or stress. But most of the time, memories fill my heart with gladness and comfort, strength and resolve.
I’ve been reading through the Psalms lately, and many of them speak of remembering. When God’s people faced struggles, they were told to remember the great stories of the past– the plagues of Egypt, the parting of the Red Sea, the conquest of the Promised Land, and many other times when God gave miraculous provision, restoration, and victory. These songs were not just a matter of recapturing the “glory days” of old– they were part of God’s command to remember and pass along God’s deeds and His laws to each new generation.
In the Psalms, we are also encouraged to remember our own past actions– both righteous and rebellious– and God’s faithfulness in spite of our failures. We are to remember God’s correction and discipline; God’s forgiveness, and His Mercy– not just in our own lives, but over many generations and throughout the years.
God instituted festivals, and rites, and Holy Days of remembrance– special times set aside for remembrance and meditation, because it is important to Him that we never lose our focus. We can get so wrapped up in the present (or worrying about the future) that we forget God’s timeless and eternal nature.
Even Jesus, before He went to Calvary, instituted a new rite of remembrance– Communion– in which He called His disciples to “do this in remembrance of me.”
Today, I want to pray a prayer of remembrance. I want to spend time in worship and gratitude for who God IS, but also for who He always HAS BEEN. Thank you for your eternal faithfulness, and for your eternal plan of Salvation. Thank you for the ways you have provided in my life, in the lives of those who came before, and in the lives of generations of faithful saints. May I remember your Great Love and Power as I face uncertainties in the day ahead. May the remembrance of you lead me to trust you completely, follow you boldly, and share you with those I meet.
I grew up in a rambling, pre-1860s farmhouse in rural southwestern Michigan. We had a “Michigan basement”,” “– unfinished dirt floors, walls made of fieldstone and rocks, crudely cemented together, exposed floorboards and joists from the ground floor providing a ceiling. A rickety wooden stairway ended in a small cemented landing. It was a haven for dust and cobwebs, and everything in the basement had a grimy film of dust mixed with the residue of an old oil-burning furnace. It was littered with “dead” things– a rusted-out bicycle frame from the 1940s; a long-forgotten set of rattan patio furniture with mildewed pads and broken wicker bits sticking out underneath; a broken rake; and, in one corner, what looked like the skeleton of a small rodent. There was an old cabinet, formerly with two doors, now standing with one door hanging askew, and the other one missing all but half a hinge piece. Inside were old Mason jars, rimmed with lime deposits, holding nails, screws, nuts and bolts, and other odds and ends, and more Mason jars holding home-canned tomatoes from a garden of unknown vintage. There was a single 40-watt incandescent light bulb screwed into an ancient ceramic socket and mounted on one of the overhead floorboards, which did little to diminish the general sense of gloom and decay. There were four small windows–but they had long ago succumbed to grime and dirt from inside and out. It was the stuff of childhood nightmares.
Last week, we had a tornado warning, and one of my friends from church spoke of taking her children to the basement to wait out the weather. It reminded me of my own mother, gathering my sister and I– sometimes pulling us from our beds– and taking us to shelter in the basement until a storm had passed. My father often worked the night shift, and so the job was left to Mom to herd us into the southwest corner of the basement, being sure to bring a blanket and a flashlight, and make sure we were wearing slippers or shoes. She also had an old portable AM/FM radio, so we could listen to the weather bulletins amidst the gloom and dust and damp of the basement.
And yet–
My memories of going to the basement during a storm are not memories that inspire terror or disgust. I never wanted to visit the basement any other time, but during a storm, it was our “safe” place. The winds and rain and hail might rage outside, but we were warm and snug (sometimes too warm!) in our little corner. And no matter how frightened my mom may have been, she always reassured us that we would be safe together in that place. And then, she would lead us in prayer. We prayed that Dad would be safe at work. We prayed for anyone who was in the path of the storm. We prayed that God would protect our house. We prayed for those who were on the road, and for those who would have to go out after the storm to fix electric lines or rescue others. And we thanked God for our basement!
Sometimes, God uses grubby basements to be our “safe” place. What otherwise may seem like a scary situation can become a cause for praise and celebration when we remember that God is with us!
I think of the prophet Jeremiah, who was arrested and thrown into a cistern–a place far worse than our basement– but God caused him to be rescued (https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Jeremiah%2038&version=NIV). He went from the mud-filled cistern to the palace of the King! And even though Jeremiah faced many other trials and griefs, Jeremiah was able to write: “
I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. 20 I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. 21 Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
22 Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. 23 They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. 24 I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” (Lamentations 3:19-24 NIV)
And I think of Paul and Silas in prison in Philippi (https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Acts%2016:16-34&version=ESV ). They sang and prayed after having been beaten and unfairly arrested. And they were trapped in the prison when an earthquake hit! But the end result was not only their vindication and freedom, but salvation for the Philippian jailor and his family!
There are seasons when we are forced to go to the basement–literally and figuratively. There are times when we must sit and wait in the dark and damp, uncertain of where the storm will hit or how long it will last. But often, in those basement moments, we find ourselves closer to God than when we climb mountains! God sits with us in the gloom. God has the power to turn our fear and uncertainty into praise and worship. And God will bring those memories of His comfort and strength back to us in other times of trouble.
We had a storm blow through the area the other night. We were under a tornado warning, and a couple of tornadoes did touch down several miles northeast of here. Long before the tornado warning was issued, the weather forecast predicted strong storms with the possibility of hail and/or tornadoes. But even without them, it was easy to sense that “something was in the air.” There was a quality of heaviness in the very air outside. And the sky was an unnatural greenish-gray color, even where it wasn’t dark with storm clouds.
In life, we often get warning signs of impending “storms”–physical symptoms that tell us there may be a problem like infection or disease that needs to be diagnosed; a tense atmosphere at work that suggests big changes may be coming; withdrawal of a family member that alerts us they may be struggling with emotional or mental issues. These “atmospheric disturbances” may be subtle at first. We may choose to ignore them, or dismiss their importance, until we find ourselves in the middle of the storm!
God calls on us to trust Him in any weather or circumstance. We can pray about even the slightest change in our “atmosphere,” whether at home, work, or even internally. And part of God’s wisdom is to send us warnings so that we can not only pray, but take proactive measures. We can reach out to family members, make an appointment with our doctor, be cautious about spending in the weeks and months ahead, seek out help and counseling, etc.
But sensing “atmospheric disturbances” is not all about seeking a remedy or avoiding struggles. Even with advanced warnings, some people last night were unable to avoid damage to their properties or loss of electricity from the storms. Several people were trapped in a shipping warehouse that was hit by one of the tornadoes. Thankfully, no one lost their life; still, it took hours to rescue them all, and some of them went home to no power. But what if– just what if– someone looking up at the sky, or feeling the heaviness in the air, prayed in that moment? What if they prayed for safety– not just for themselves, but for others who would be in the path of the storm? What if someone in that shipping warehouse made plans weeks ago for tornado drills and emergency plans to protect the workers, and made the call for everyone to shelter together?
There are hundreds of stories of dramatic rescues and miraculously saved lives after almost any weather emergency. But how many untold stories are lost in the simple prayers and small corrections that take place when God’s people respond to “atmospheric disturbances” with prayer and wisdom?
And when God chooses to allow storms to come into our lives, how many stories could be told of the presence of God to calm, not the storm, but our own fear of it? God knows, as we cannot, how big the storm will be, how long it will last, and what “damages” we will face. And His Grace is sufficient to give us everything we need to face them all. That doesn’t mean we won’t suffer– damage, loss, grief, frustration– these are part of our life in a fallen world. God won’t always remove these things from our life. But he will NEVER abandon us to face them alone.
Jesus Christ faced storms in His life. One of them came on the Sea of Gallilee, as Jesus was sleeping in the boat. (See Mark 4: 35-41) A storm came up, and the disciples were terrified. They woke Jesus up, and Jesus calmly rebuked the wind and the waves, and the storm stopped. We often focus on the fact of Jesus being able to control the wind and the waves. But one of the amazing things about this story is that Jesus was IN THE BOAT! His own life was in danger from the storm. The disciples were not alone. Jesus did not let them put out to sea and face the waves, while He was safe on shore.
And so, too, Jesus is WITH US in our storms. We don’t have to wake Him up, and He may not choose to give us a miracle, but He’s right there! He can be trusted, no matter what our circumstances, no matter what dangers or damages we have to face. He knows how the storm ends; He knows how our story ends; He knows when the sun will come out again, just like it did earlier this week, announcing that all will be well.
Today is May 8th. Historically, this is known as V-E Day, or Victory in Europe Day. On this day, in 1945, the German forces surrendered, ending World War 2 in Europe. Parades and parties broke out in several cities. People celebrated the end of war and the promise of peace. But the war was NOT over– not for everyone. War continued to rage in the Pacific for several months. Prisoners in concentration camps were still being liberated, many of whom had lost their homes and families. And the devastation across Europe and North Africa would take decades to clean up. Millions were still facing food rationing and homelessness; there were unexploded bombs and land mines, craters and ruins–all was not suddenly peaceful and prosperous.
The events of V-E Day happened years before I was born. But my parents and grandparents remembered it well. And as someone who loves history, I look back on events of the past and ask, “What can I learn from this day?”
Today, I want to look at what “victory” looks like. Not the thrilling victory of winning a race, or the victory of one army over another in a past century, but true “victory”–an end to all war and struggle and pain and uncertainty. What will that look like?!
In my life, I have experienced small victories, and victories that seem large in the moment. Graduation ceremonies, job promotions, signing the papers on a new car or house, saying “yes!” when David proposed, and later celebrating our marriage with friends and relatives at our reception…These were all moments of celebration and victory. But like the victory of V-E Day, there was still work to do, challenges to face, and even difficulties and set-backs that clouded each victory. Even my greatest Victory– coming to faith and knowing my name is written in the Lamb’s Book of Life– is in the “here and now.” I still face trials and temptations in this life, even though I can claim victory over Sin and Death through the work of Jesus Christ. But true “Victory” is in the “not yet.”
It can be tempting, when celebrating our earthly victories, to get caught up in the momentary feelings of success and happiness. But what happens on May 9? What happens after the parade? What happens when we face the next challenge? I find myself too often disappointed with the fleeting nature of my victories in life. And in the disappointment, I lose not only the joy of the victory, but the strength of the promise of victories yet to come!
There is a day coming– one that will make V-E Day pale in comparison! Some day, the forces of Evil will be utterly crushed. It will be total surrender. No occupying forces, no rationing or homelessness, and no more death or destruction for those who have trusted in Christ. Just sweet Victory. In a moment; in the blink of an eye, God will say, “ENOUGH!” The war will end. The suffering will end. The waiting will end. The dead will rise and the living will be changed.
I can only imagine what that day will truly be like. But I can live with the certainty of a coming day of “Victory.” I can know the hope and the joy of each small victory today, as it reminds me that there is much more to come!
Thank you, Jesus, for each small victory today. Thank you for the ultimate Victory that I find in You!
My late uncle came to know Christ– really know Christ– later in his life. He and my aunt spent their final years doing advanced Bible studies by correspondence course– hour after hour studying Hebrew and Greek, filling out paperwork, sending it in, and waiting for the next lesson (this was before the explosion of online classes and internet shortcuts).
When Uncle Fred was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease), and he knew his time on earth was drawing to a close, he planned his funeral service, and it was incredible– uplifting, encouraging, hopeful! This from a man who, earlier in life, had had anger issues, numerous issues with money, and serious doubts about God. One of his favorite scripture passages came from Proverbs, and it surprised me a bit. It wasn’t about promise or hope or power or expectation. Instead, it was about discipline and correction and balance.
Proverbs 30:7-9New International Version (NIV)
“Two things I ask of you, Lord; do not refuse me before I die: 8 Keep falsehood and lies far from me; give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. 9 Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, ‘Who is the Lord?’ Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God.
The first request is one we might expect– keep me from lies and falsehood. Not just the lies of others, but keep ME from lying. After all, this is in keeping with the ninth commandment. And we need God’s help to keep away from all sins, including self-deception!
The second phrase is a little harder to swallow– “Give me neither poverty nor riches”– OK, I don’t want to be poor, and it’s probably not good for me to be super wealthy. I’ll just be a comfortable middle-class sort of person.
It’s the last phrase that catches us– “But give me ONLY my daily bread.” Excuse me? I don’t know about some of you who may be reading this, but I don’t want ONLY my daily bread. What about all those verses that say we can ask for ANYTHING in Jesus’ name and he will do it!? What about being prepared in and out of season–what about savings accounts and retirement plans and having extra to give to those in need? What about a cozy lake cottage or a really nice vacation? Don’t I deserve to treat myself? Haven’t I earned a few creature comforts? I give to charity, and I volunteer at church. I don’t need to be rich, but “only my daily bread” sounds a bit like poverty…
The next verse gives the reason, and also the test. “Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, ‘Who is the Lord?’ Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God.” It’s tempting at this point to brush off the warning. After all, I haven’t disowned God, have I? I still go to church and write about prayer. What more does God want of me…Who is God to ask more of me? Who is the Lord to tell me what I can’t have…We don’t start out denying or disowning God, but we begin to question his ways, and our own obedience. Similarly, we don’t think we are stealing or dishonoring God’s name, but how many of us have tried to “beat the system” to get ahead instead of turning to God or the church for help? Tax breaks that are questionable, lying (see verse 8a again…) about our income to qualify for federal programs or grants, “borrowing” from family or friends with little or no plan for how to repay them… I wish I could say I didn’t know anyone who had ever bragged to me about they had “cheated” just a little, or that I had a perfect track record in this area.
This passage is filled with wisdom, but it is not wisdom we teach in many of our churches today. Yet it is exactly what God teaches by example and what he expects of us. Did not Jesus pray for God to “Give us this day our Daily Bread?” He didn’t ask God to pour out the storehouses of Heaven so we could add a pool in the back yard, or afford a new car, or get that extra pair of shoes or the latest new gadget. Yet he prayed with the complete confidence that God would not withhold any of his needs or cause him to live in shame or starvation.
It’s not as though God has commanded us to live as paupers and beggars– look at the way he provided for the Israelites in the wilderness. He provided, quite literally, their daily bread/manna. Just enough for each day, with a double portion for the Sabbath. Just enough– just a sufficient amount. No one had to worry about losing their food supply to theft, packing it up to travel, using it up before the expiration date, or comparing one brand to another to check for gluten or preservatives or recall notices.
No one had to worry about whether their shoes were the right color to match their favorite outfit, or if they had enough gas in the tank for their next move. God provided all their needs when they absolutely COULD NOT. And he provided more than just their basic needs– they had herds and flocks; he provided water and grazing for them, too. He had caused the Egyptians to give them gold and jewels as they left Egypt, so they would have enough (and far more than enough) to make all the tools and objects for the tabernacle, and still have a medium of exchange when they reached their new homes in the Promised Land.
But God did not encourage His people to seek after riches–even for His sake. When David wanted to build an elaborate temple, God sent word that, while David’s intention was good, He (God) did not need a Temple; nor did He want David to build one. And David listened and humbly thanked God for the blessings he already had, and the opportunities God had provided for him. Solomon DID build the temple, but he allowed the riches flooding into his kingdom (among other things) to turn his heart away from God. He built an elaborate Temple, but then he spent even more time and money to build his own palace and throne! He collected horses from Egypt and many foreign wives (expressly forbidden for the kings of Israel– see Deuteronomy 17:14-17). And he fell into cynicism and idol worship.
Our current culture (at least in the U.S. and in much of the rest of the world) tends to be consumed by…consumption. Having the newest and latest and best of everything. Seeing to our own comfort and self-esteem and satisfaction– often at the expense of our devotion to Christ and our service to others.
There’s nothing wrong with nice things– helpful tools, comforts, pleasures– God doesn’t want us to be miserable or full of a false humility that throws away opportunities and rewards. But he needs us to see that not every “good” thing is the “best” thing for us. We CAN be too rich, too thin, too smart, too proud…you get the idea. Too much of a good thing can blind us to the BEST thing!
Pursuing Prayer 