The Power of Pictures

When my Mom died back in February, she left a house full of memories, and also a house full of papers and empty containers, old clothes and books, and worn furniture and broken appliances. Mom was a hoarder, and it has taken months to begin sorting through all that Mom treasured. Yesterday, I was sorting through a tub of old photos. Mom took thousands of photos over the years, and we gathered up over 25 tubs of them. They are in random order, so one group of photos may be from the late sixties, while the next might have been taken just a few years ago.

It’s been both frustrating and entertaining to go through batches of photos. Seeing my face at age 6 with missing front teeth; seeing my nephew holding his newborn daughter; seeing my Dad in his work uniform; seeing long-lost relatives when they were both alive and younger than I am now! It can be jarring. I found a photo of my favorite pair of sneakers from childhood– they were bright yellow with black stripes and white treads. I loved those sneakers and I finally wore them out. But there they were, staring up at me from an old photo– brand new– and I felt the same sense of excitement I had when I was 10 years old. I also found an old photo of a cousin who recently passed away. There she was, fifty years younger at a family reunion, a young mother with two sons (another son and daughter were yet to be born!) It was a sharp stab to know how much her family is grieving right now. And yet, it was a beautiful reminder that she is NOT gone; she is raised to life, and grief will be turned to joy as we have an eternal “Family Reunion” in heaven!

Mom took a lot of wonderful pictures that mean so much to us now. But Mom also took a lot of “dud” pictures– pictures that were out of focus; pictures of old clothes, or faded flowers. Several pictures of the same thing from different angles. Pictures of people eating–their mouths wide open and gaping angrily. There are no labels telling why such pictures were taken, or what they might mean. Years later, they leave us confused and frustrated– and ready to throw them out!

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. And I have been living that lately, as I sort through old memories. But the pictures are reminding me of other memories– other “pictures” that are even more powerful.

God reveals Himself to us in so many ways– and in so many “pictures.” The Bible is full of parables, metaphors, proverbs, and histories that provide us with word pictures of His character. In Genesis, we read the story of Abraham and Isaac, which illustrates the great sacrifice God would make for our Salvation. Abraham was willing to give his son– the son God had promised– believing that God could raise him from the dead. Isaac didn’t die. He didn’t even know what was coming. But Jesus DID. God’s promises never fail. Unlike Isaac, Jesus KNEW what awaited Him at Calvary. He knew there would be no last-minute, substitute ram. HE was the lamb who would be slain. And He would rise victorious!

In Exodus, God provides another parallel; another word picture to show what He would do. He sent ten plagues on Egypt to prove His power, both to the Egyptians AND to the nation of Israel. But the tenth plague was much more than just a display of power. It was a metaphor for the Cross. In order to escape the Angel of Death, the Israelites were to use hyssop and the blood of the Passover lamb to “paint” the top and sides of their doorframes. Using the hyssop, they “whipped” blood onto the wooden doorframe, causing it to “bleed”– at the top, and on each side. The blood would drip down, creating a similar pattern to the blood on the cross–blood from the wounds on Jesus’ head and outstretched hands. There would even be a pool of blood on the ground, suggesting where His feet would be nailed to a wooden cross. It is a stark picture– a gruesome picture of pain and suffering. But it is a powerful picture that shows us how Jesus’ pain and suffering led to our Salvation. Death holds no power over the Cross! We can rest, knowing that God’s plan is for our rescue, not our destruction.

In the New Testament, Jesus used metaphors and explained how ancient stories foretold His arrival, as well as His death and resurrection. He used the story of Jonah to explain that He would be in the grave for three days. He used the prophets to remind His listeners of God’s many promises. His disciples recorded the stories. The Apostles continued to use the ancient scriptures to “show” that Jesus was the Messiah and that His life and death fulfilled the promises and prophecies.

Time after time, Jesus told parables– stories that were meant to “show” the character of His Father. And WE are also meant to reflect Our Father to the world! WE are to be pictures of God’s Love, His Grace and Mercy, His Faithfulness, and His Holiness. Whatever we do, wherever we go today, we WILL be like a photograph, showing others who we are inside– what we value, what we believe, who we trust, how we love and how we live. We can be powerful witnesses to God’s Love by the way we go about our daily activities. But we can also be “duds”– pictures of people pursuing worthless activities, or looking at the world from a dozen skewed perspectives.

I pray that my “photo” today will reflect God’s character, challenge assumptions, encourage others, and stir powerful reactions for HIS Glory!

November 15, 2023 1

Jesus Wept

It is the shortest verse in the entire Bible– St. John 11:35: “Jesus wept.” Only two words. They are easily memorized; they are also easily overlooked or misrepresented. Jesus wept over the death of his good friend Lazarus.

Read the story of Lazarus here.

Jesus wept–Emmanuel felt deep emotion and showed it. God shed tears over the pain and sadness of a death; Messiah cried for the loss of his good friend. Jesus was no stranger to sadness and loss– God understands the sharp sting of death. God is compassionate, not heartless or cruel. If we are in emotional turmoil, it is not because God doesn’t know our pain or doesn’t care. He hurts WITH us in our times of deepest need.

girl in pink jacket on wooden bridge in the forest

Jesus wept–People often ask the rhetorical question, “What would Jesus do?” when faced with a situation. Here is an example of what Jesus did– he wept. Sometimes, the “thing to do” is to acknowledge the reality of our situation–death hurts. It brings out feelings of anger and even fear. Death is scary. It’s ugly, and it fills us with a sense of injustice, and a desire to wake up and find that death is just a very bad dream. Aching loss, wracking sobs, feeling punched in the gut by circumstances– these are valid feelings and reactions. To pretend otherwise or to deny ourselves or others the right to express those feelings does great harm, just as wallowing in sadness and remaining isolated in our grief can drag us into hopeless depression.

Jesus wept– period. He didn’t punch a wall or point fingers at Mary and Martha for “letting” their brother die. He didn’t try to justify his extra-long stay that kept him from arriving before his friend died. Neither did he justify returning to a region where he was not “safe” from the authorities in order to comfort the sisters (and ultimately raise Lazarus back to life). People often criticize Christians for “not doing enough” to erase hunger, cure diseases, or end poverty in the world. Some even point out that Jesus, being God incarnate, had the power to do all of this during his earthly ministry. But he didn’t. As he was dying, he said, “It is finished.” He wasn’t referring to some social revolution or economic program, or political movement that would abolish the oppression of the Roman Empire, or the corruption of the Pharisees, or end the slave trade. That doesn’t mean that God approves of evil, corruption, and injustice.

But it means that Jesus’s mission was accomplished through what he did in life and through his sacrificial death. He loved freely, healed those who were willing, and taught about the true character of his Heavenly Father. He ate, and laughed, and slept; he burped and sweat, and cried. He prayed and worshiped and worked and gave. Jesus didn’t weep because he had no power to keep Lazarus from dying. He proved that just minutes later.

Jesus wept because he was showing us the very heart of God. God’s heart is not to flex his sovereign muscles and demand our instant and abject obedience– though he has the perfect authority and right to do so. His heart is to walk intimately with us, even when that walk goes through the very valley of the shadow of death! God’s love isn’t flinty and cold. It isn’t pushy and arrogant and selfish. It is extravagant and gracious beyond all imagination. It is raw agony and pure joy. It doesn’t immediately “fix” our hurts or answer all our questions, but it wraps around us even IN our pain, and it give us hope to endure and carry on.

man hugging a woman wearing black tank top

What in your life causes you to weep? What burdens and aches and frustrations and questions drive you to tears? Jesus may not take away what hurts us, but he will never turn us away because we are scarred or scared or broken. He will share our burdens, wipe our eyes, and hold us as we pour out our tears.

November 8, 2023 0

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep..

Now I lay me down to sleep;
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.

I learned this prayer as a child. It seemed very grim, and pessimistic. As a child, I spent very little time (as little as possible) thinking of my own mortality, or the state of my soul after a day of playing with dolls or running around outside. I was blessed with a safe and easy childhood. Of course, I had days of sickness, a bout of chicken pox, the loss of a pet, news of neighbors who had died in war, fallen to cancer, or been killed in accidents–moments that caused me to reflect a bit more. But I didn’t want to think about serious things. I wanted peace and happiness.

As a younger adult, I came to the conclusion that prayers like this were old-fashioned, and designed to scare vulnerable children into a false faith based on fear and gloom. Shouldn’t children learn about the Love of Jesus and the Mercy of the Father, instead of worrying about death and eternal doom of their soul? Prayers like this would be “bad” for young children; traumatic and disturbing. Better to teach them prayers that were sweet and light, and full of only the goodness of God.

Lately, however, I remember things a bit differently. Yes, there is gloom and doom in this old children’s prayer, but there is also comfort, Love, and Mercy. As a child, I could “lay me down” to sleep in peace, knowing that God would, indeed, keep my soul from harm. I didn’t expect to die, but when I woke up dreaming of monsters, or suddenly became aware of mortality, I didn’t have to stay fearful. God is bigger than any monster; bigger then Death. I could not trust anyone better, mightier, or more capable than the Lord to keep my soul, or to “take” it safely to its final destination. I learned about the Goodness of God, but I also learned about stark realities– the persecuted Church, war, famine, injustice–things that God wants me to confront, and endure, and lift to Him in prayer. And for every “gloomy” reality, there are stories of victory and joy, faith and resilience, love and grace– because God is standing by, ready to rescue and reassure and redeem.

Bedtime prayers are a great comfort to me now. And they are also important prayers in my Christian Walk. It is at bedtime that I can reflect on God’s goodness throughout the day. I can be thankful for all the blessings God has given me, and for all the ways He has guided me and protected me– often without my knowledge and in spite of myself! Instead of worrying, tossing and turning, trying to “figure out” tomorrow, I can lift my burdens to God, knowing that I won’t face anything tomorrow alone! I can reflect on all the times I thought I couldn’t make it, but God made a way! And I can confidently rest in the hope that nothing can separate me from God’s loving care. Not yesterday’s guilt, nor today’s failures, nor tomorrow’s unknown (or imagined) trials– not even death!

I am old enough now that mortality plays a bigger role in my thoughts. I have lost my parents, my grandparents, aunts and uncles, classmates, co-workers, neighbors, and friends. I’ve experienced both great joy and great sorrow. But I need not be afraid of disease, dilemmas, or death. I need not worry about the state of my soul. I may have griefs, aches and pains, and worries about tomorrow. But I can “lay me down” in peace and patience, knowing I have a Good, Good Father whose love has surrounded me for over half a century. I can “Hush” all my fears, and sleep like a baby, knowing my God is always standing right by my side.

November 6, 2023 0

My Father’s Heart

I can still remember as a small child of 3 or 4, after my Dad came in from mowing the lawn, climbing up and snuggling close to his chest to listen to the beat of his heart. Dad smelled of new-mown grass and honest sweat, and his heart was beating—thumpity, THUMP-Thump, thumpity THUMP-thump–I could almost feel it beating through his chest. It would start out racing, and gradually slow to a steady Thump-thump Thump-thump.

Looking back, I marvel at my Dad’s patience. Here he was, fresh from working on the lawn, hot, sweat-covered, and exhausted, only to be met with a wiggly child, intent on chattering, and interrupting his precious “relaxation” time. But as I wiggled, Dad’s tender arms would come around me, and both of us would become quiet and just enjoy being together, listening to the beat of his heart. They were precious moments.

My dad worked long hours at a mind-numbingly boring job. He worked for a large pharmaceutical company, but he wasn’t a chemist, or an engineer. He was a “bagger.” His company produced anhydrous citric acid for industrial and commercial use. As the name implies, citric acid is caustic, even in powder form, and Dad had to wear special gloves and shoes, plastic glasses with side shields, and other gear to protect his skin, hair, and eyes from the possibility of burns. He worked, sometimes 16-18 hour shifts (overtime, or time-and-a-half) at a station in a small, hot room. His job was to fit a bag to the end of a chute, push a button, and stand there as 50 or 100 pounds of citric acid filled the bag. He then carefully took the bag off the end of the chute and moved it to another machine, where the top edge would be stitched closed. Finally, he would lift and carry the full bag to a conveyer belt, so it could travel to the shipping room to be loaded on to skids and sent all over the world. Sometimes, he would cover someone else’s shift in the shipping room, loading the bags onto the skids or even loading the skids onto trucks or train cars, but most of the time, he was alone in a drab, overheated, powder-filled room.

I once asked my father how he could stand to do what he did every day. It was hot, heavy, boring, and mostly thankless work. Fit the bag, push a button, move the bag, push a button, move the bag again, and start all over. Always on his feet, always lifting his arms. No one to talk to; nothing to watch or listen to but the machinery around him. But my dad was content. He didn’t find his identity in his work, although he was proud to have a good-paying, steady job. He was thankful for his ability to be consistent and productive. He was proud of his good attendance record and his dedication. But he wasn’t married to his work, and he wasn’t working for money or fame or status. He was a Christian first, and a husband and father next. He was as steady as his heartbeat. Always reliable, even-tempered, trustworthy– solid.

My father worked at the same company for over 28 years (in fact, the company changed names twice while my dad worked there!). When he retired, we threw him a surprise birthday party/retirement party. But Dad’s heart was wearing out. All those years of work were taking their toll Dad spent two years of retirement enjoying some travel and relaxation, but his last two years were spent in and out of the hospital with surgeries and complications, physical limitations, and chronic pain.

Finally, the day came when Dad’s heart broke. He had been in the hospital overnight, and the surgeons had done all they could. They had “zapped” dad with the defibrillator. They had done compressions until his breastbone was broken and each compression was pressing shards of bone into his chest and close to his lungs. One last time, I stood, with my mom and sister, watching Dad’s heartbeat on the monitor. It was steady, but so, so weak. Dad’s once-solid arms were too weak to reach up from the bed; his blue eyes were dim, and he struggled to breathe. We said a last prayer and told Dad that all was ready for him to go Home at last. And his heartbeat faded to a straight line on the monitor.

Dad’s heart was huge in life– steady and strong, patient and solid. His faithfulness gave us all a glimpse of our Father’s heart in Heaven. Dad was a humble man. He was a man who sacrificed the life he could have lived to take on a thankless, boring, demanding job so we could have nice things and opportunities as his children. He also took the job so that, after those long hours, he would have time off during the week, so he could come to some of our school programs, and take family day-trips, and just “hang out” with friends and neighbors in the community. He mowed our lawn, but he also mowed lawns all around the neighborhood– for shut-ins, elderly couples, and those who were sick or didn’t have a mower. His heart was not only strong, it was incredibly tender. Dad cared about the little things…he loved children and animals; he cried for the National Anthem, and at prayer meetings. When I read about Jesus welcoming little children, it made perfect sense, because it is exactly what my own father would have done and said.

Dad wasn’t perfect, of course. He was only human. He made mistakes. And he died. But he made a profound impact on those who knew him, and he lived a life that drew people to Faith and Hope in Jesus. The Bible doesn’t make clear whether or not we will have “hearts” like our present human hearts when we are with the Father in eternity. But I know my Father’s Heart. It’s even better than my Dad’s. Some days, even here on earth, I can hear its steadfast, solid rhythm in the greetings of neighbors, in birdsong, or on the wind. And I can stop wiggling, and just be held in His tender arms.

October 25, 2023 0

No More Goodbyes

Today marks 25 years since I said “goodbye” to my father. My mother, sister, and I stood by his bedside at the hospital. The doctors had tried numerous times to re-start his heart. In the process, they had broken his sternum, and each new effort was causing additional pain and putting his lungs in danger of being punctured by bone fragments. His time was running out. We were allowed to come in and say our last words to him, before his worn-out heart finally stopped for good. I held his hand one last time, whispered that I loved him and that I would help take care of Mom. I kissed his forehead, and said a prayer. Mom and my sister did the same.

Earlier this year, I had to say goodbye to Mom as well. My sister and I were with her, and had read her mail aloud to her, as she had fallen into a coma. I was preparing to return home. I said, “goodbye;” I held her hand, kissed her cheek and turned to my sister. When I turned back around, Mom was gone–her oxygen machine was still running, but her heart had stopped beating, and she was peaceful and still. In that moment, I became an orphan.

Death is part of the curse of a fallen world. God is the source of all Life. In a fallen world, we are cut off from our life-source. Our mortal bodies must taste death. It is the consequence of Sin– our sin, and the sins of others. Disease, violence, aging, disasters, grieving, work, abuse– all conspire to drain the life out of our bodies. Life is a gift– we can’t “earn” it, and we can’t “hold on” to it indefinitely. Nor can we hold on to the lives of others–even those we love. Some day, I will lose my sister. Or she will lose me. Some day, I will lose, or be lost to my husband, my brother, my step-children, mother-in-law, grandchildren, cousins, friends, and neighbors.

And, just like leaves on the trees later this month, all of us will grow old, be changed, and fall into decay. Some will fall gently; others will be torn away by the winds of war, or crime, or cancer, or accidents. Some will fall early; others will cling to life until the last moment, but all will eventually die. More goodbyes. More grieving. More death.

But. God is the author of Life, not Death.

Death is not the end for those who have trusted their souls to God. Our bodies must still taste death. We must still say, “Goodbye” to those we love on earth. But our goodbyes are tempered with the promise that the One who conquered Death did so for US. Because Jesus was willing to die and able to rise again, we will also live again. And THIS life will be untainted and eternal. No more goodbyes. No more grieving and separation. No more fear of an unknown future that includes death. No more waiting. No more living without a father. Our Heavenly Father will never leave, never die, never suffer the ravages of age or disease, never fall. In fact, Jesus never said “Goodbye” to His disciples– it wasn’t in His vocabulary! He said that He would “Go to prepare a place…(John 14:2-3)”, and He charged His disciples to “Go into all the world…(Mark 16:15)” But He never said, “Goodbye!”

I had to say, “Goodbye,” to my wonderful parents. And I have the joy of knowing that our “goodbyes” are temporary. That I will see them again, even as I will see my Heavenly Father someday. So, while today holds in it the sadness of watching my Dad suffer in his last minutes of earthly life, it also holds the promise of reunion and restoration. My Dad will never again have to suffer; neither will my Mom. My future probably holds a few more “goodbyes.” But it also holds “Hello!” “Welcome Home!” and “I’m so happy to see you again!”

I thank God for the lives of both my parents– for their testimonies of faith, for their good examples, and for the wisdom, laughter, and love they shared. And I thank God that their deaths were not the end of that love and joy. In fact, it will be even better to share someday what we could never have here on earth–eternal peace and freedom from grief and loss.

Twenty-five years seems like a long time, but it is a drop in the bucket of time, and nothing in light of eternity. That truth brings me great comfort as I face today. I hope you will be encouraged and comforted as well. Heaven is a place with no more “goodbyes.” And that radically changes the way I say “Goodbye” here on earth!

September 1, 2023 0

Leaning– “Eutychus and Hot Dogs” Revisited

*Note: This is a revision of an older post– you can visit the original here: https://wordpress.com/post/pursuingprayer.blog/2156

I was reminded today of an old hymn; one that I heard as a child and did not understand at all. Have you ever heard a new song, and completely mis-heard the lyrics? As a young child, I often heard hymns sung that were familiar to the adults but “new” to me. This was one of them. I paid little attention to the first verse, but the chorus!?! I was convinced the congregation was singing, “Wienies (the word my grandparents sometimes used for hot dogs)! Wienies! Wienies on the everlasting arms…” It sounded like a righteous chorus of hot dog vendors at a baseball game. What could hot dogs possibly have to do with living for Christ? I giggled and snorted, and my grandmother, who was standing next to me, quietly leaned over and asked what I found so funny. When I explained it to her, she too began to giggle a little, and we shared a (quieter) giggle and smiles throughout the rest of the hymn. (Sacrilegious, I know, but it seemed very funny to a five-year-old.) Later, my grandmother lovingly explained the hymn–turning a “silly” song into a wonderful testament of God’s tender, loving care that touches me to this day.

There is another old hymn, known as “The Solid Rock” or “On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand. ” One of the lines of the hymn states, “I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus’ Name.” Jesus IS the solid rock, the everlasting arms, and the “frame” on which we can both stand and rest secure. He is also our anchor in any storm (see “My Anchor Holds” https://wordpress.com/post/pursuingprayer.blog/5828)

There is a curious story in the Bible about the Apostle Paul and a young man named Eutychus. https://www.gotquestions.org/Eutychus-in-the-Bible.html. The story is found in Acts 20:7-12 https://biblia.com/bible/esv/acts/20/7-12, and involves a young man listening to the Apostle Paul. As Paul talks on into the night, the young man, sitting in the third story window, falls asleep, falls out of the window, and plummets to his death. Luke, who authored the the gospel which bears his name and the book of Acts, was a doctor, and an eyewitness of this event. He clearly states that Eutychus died from his fall. But Paul runs outside and immediately brings Eutychus back to life, returning inside to finish his talk and eat with the crowd– who are amazed and relieved to find their friend alive and well. The Bible doesn’t say what they had to eat– certainly NOT hot dogs– nor does Luke spend time giving details of the aftermath of such a miracle. Paul simply picks up the limp form in his arms, lets everyone know that the young man is alive, and they all return upstairs and pick up where they left off: “breaking bread” and talking!

Luke’s story doesn’t say whether or not Eutychus was alone in the third story window, or leaning against a wide window frame or perched precariously before he fell into “a deep sleep.” I have always imagined him perched comfortably leaning against the side of a wide and open window frame, one leg drawn up and the other dangling as he listened to Paul speak. As the night wore on, he may have slouched a bit, or even turned to lean his whole back against the frame, pulling both legs up onto the wide ledge. I imagine there were others sitting close by. There may even have been others leaning against the window frames! But as they were engrossed in Paul’s message, and whatever questions were being asked and answered, Eutychus drifted into sleep and lost his balance. My mental picture may be completely wrong, but I don’t think of him hugging a narrow space and sitting tense or afraid and clinging to the window frame before sleep claimed him. I imagine that he felt safe and secure in his position, never expecting to fall to his death; never expecting to become famous for falling asleep during one of Paul’s sermons!

I don’t recommend to anyone that they trust themselves to a window frame, a third story balcony, a too-comfortable seat at the theater, or to hot dogs eaten in bleacher seats at the baseball game. God doesn’t call us to get comfortable! Even if we are listening, and trying to follow Jesus, we may still fall– literally, like Eutychus, or figuratively. We may misunderstand, or get confused or weary and lose our focus. We may put ourselves at risk by leaning on the wrong frame. I believe that the story of Eutychus has several lessons for us.

First, we should be on guard. Eutychus wasn’t doing anything especially risky or unusual at the time of his death. It would have been common for people to sit where they could see and hear a speaker– not unlike sitting in bleachers at a baseball game!–and most houses were constructed so that windows were open. We often do things that seem natural and even good, but we, too, can “fall asleep” in complacency, routine, tradition, and other things that can lead to a “fall.”
Second, we should be slow to condemn. Again, Eutychus wasn’t doing anything that “deserved” death. There was nothing overtly sinful about his situation, nor does the Biblical account suggest any reason to judge Eutychus: this was an accident that might have happened to anyone. There is something cold and un-Christlike that sometimes arises in modern Christian culture. Many of us are quick to see any misfortune as “proof” of something lacking in others. Lacking in Faith; lacking in commitment or obedience; lacking in knowledge; lacking in God’s favor. Such an attitude shows a lack of compassion and a lack of humility! Eutychus is one of US! His death would have been a tragedy– his resurrection was a source of joy. We don’t know WHY Eutychus fell– but we know that God intended for him to be saved. And isn’t that where our focus should always be?

Lastly, the story of Eutychus reminds us of Paul’s marvelous words to the Roman believers:

³⁵Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? ³⁶As it is written, “For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.” ³⁷No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. ³⁸For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, ³⁹nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:35-39 ESV

God could have kept Eutychus from falling from that third story window, but I believe He meant for that story to come down through the ages. It is not just a miracle, and a testament to the power of God and given to the Apostle Paul. It is a great reminder that even when we are trying to listen and follow God, we can still end up trusting in the wrong things and “falling asleep”. But no matter how far we fall, or how broken or “dead” we may seem to be, God sees us, cares for us, and wants to give us new life! Nothing– not even death– can separate us from God’s loving care or His ability to give us restoration and renewed life! We can rest “safe and secure from all alarms” when we remain in (or return to) the reassuring, everlasting arms of our Savior.

Some days, I feel like Eutychus– lying broken and useless three stories below where I began. Other times, I feel like a confused hot dog vendor, calling out to God for “Wienies”, when I really need Wisdom and Grace. Still other times, I feel like one of the crowd– wondering why Eutychus fell, instead of wondering at God’s miraculous ways. But God is faithful to bring me back time after time, wrapping me in his amazing “Everlasting Arms”:

July 10, 2023 0

What to Throw Away…

¹⁹“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. ²⁰But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. ²¹For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also
Matthew 6:19-21 (NIV)

When my mom died earlier this year, she left a house filled with “stuff.” Mom saved EVERYTHING! She saved old calendars, expired drivers’ licenses, used peanut butter jars, all her children’s baby clothes and shoes, graduation and wedding invitations, Christmas Cards, broken cameras, and so much more. She owned a seven-bedroom farmhouse, but she lived for many years in just a few square feet in four different rooms. She slept on half a twin mattress; the other half was covered with boxes. She ate on just a patch of her kitchen table; the rest was piled over with papers and “stuff.” There was a narrow path through the dining room to the bathroom and bedroom. Mom was a hoarder.

Mom was also stubbornly independent, and refused to get rid of things or have others help her throw things away. It contributed to her falling and breaking her hip, and later falling and breaking her leg. We eventually persuaded her to move to assisted living and later to a small house that she could navigate safely. But she would not sell the old house or let us throw away her “treasures.”

Shortly before she died, Mom gave us permission to begin the difficult task of “going through” her house. She joked that we would all hate her after she died and we had to finish the task. We joked back that we would never be able to finish in our own lifetimes! Mom knew that she should have thrown things away. But she had chosen to live surrounded by the memories of broken toys and yellowed letters of yesterday.

Well, the house is almost empty. We decided to sell it, and had to clean it out so it could be shown. The bulk of the work fell to my brother and his wife. They are retired, and they live closest to the old house. But even so, it has taken months, and tons of sweat, to find the floors and walls and windows that were covered and blocked by “stuff.” There are still a few pieces of furniture and some items in the basement, but hundreds of boxes, bags, crates, and containers had to be taken to my brother’s house, my house, my sister’s house, donation centers, recycling centers, and, sadly, to the dump.

We had very few “things” left from my father. His family had lived through a house fire when he was a young man, and he learned early that even precious things cannot be saved. He tried to throw things out; Mom would “rescue” some from the trash and bring them back in! He saved a few momentos, mostly photos, and when he died, he was no longer there to advise Mom about what must be put in the trash. But even his “stuff” was hidden among worthless old shoes and dishes and old boxes.

My Mom DID have several treasures– at least to us. She had saved school papers from our childhood, birth and baptism certificates, photos, my dad’s old work uniform, my grandfather’s Navy cap, afghans and doilies my grandmother made, and several worn and tattered Bibles she had so faithfully studied over the years. And Mom was generous in her own way– she sent out thousands of greeting cards and gave wonderful and thoughtful gifts to her many friends and family members. But she kept broken things, rusty and dusty things, used-up things, and things that were useless. And the hardest part of sorting through over 20,000 square feet of “stuff” was finding and determining what to keep and what to throw away.

Life is a lot like that house full of “stuff. It is full of memories, experiences, hopes, dreams, guilt, fears, relationships, emotions, and disappointments. And we have to make choices about what to treasure and what to throw away. Here are some guidelines I’ve learned through my recent experience:

Treasure the lesson– throw away the bitterness.
Keep the memories– throw away the t-shirt.
Save the relationship– throw away the anger.
Keep the recipe– throw away the container/magazine it came with.
Eat the chocolate–but throw away the fancy box it came in.
Throw away the broken dishes, the worn towels, and the pot without a handle.
Treasure the stories– trash the dusty, musty books (Yes, that’s coming from a librarian!)
Don’t just worth on appearance alone–DON’T throw away an opportunity to show kindness where it is least expected and most needed. There may be treasure among the rubbish!
Use the stationery you got for Christmas–throw away the wrapping paper.
Throw away last year’s calendar– those days are gone. Make space for this year.
Keep your promises–let go of your disappointments.
Hold your dreams loosely– be ready to accept what IS as a gift; what WILL BE as a mystery.
Treasure the empty spaces in your house and in your life– throw away the extra baggage.
Keep space for new blessings–pass the old blessings on to others.
Things can never take the place of time spent with the people you love. I appreciate some of the things Mom left behind, but the real treasure was the wisdom she imparted, the laughter and tears we shared over the years, and the faith she lived out as she loved others.

Mom’s joke about us hating her after she was gone– that didn’t happen. And our joking prediction was wrong, too. It was frustrating to go through everything; it was hard work and it might not have been necessary if Mom had chosen differently. But it wasn’t wasted work. We still have dozens of boxes to sort through, but I am finding small miracles and memories (and lessons!) in each one. Mom may not have been able to judge what she should throw away, but she did know what to keep above all!

I hope I am learning what to throw away, as well as what to give away and what to keep. Mostly, I hope I am learning to let go of the things that might prevent me from accepting better things. God will not always take away the things that hold us back, or bury us in the past. But He asks us to store up our treasure, not in a house or a storage barn, or a safe deposit box, but with Him! Things will break, rust, rot, and be lost. Feelings and thoughts can keep us trapped in the past, and blind to the present and future. But God’s gifts– Faith, Hope, Love, Peace, Patience, Discipline, Forgiveness–these last forever, and never lose their value!

July 3, 2023 0

The Longest Day

Today is the Summer Solstice. In the Northern Hemisphere, it marks the “longest day” of the year. However, today will have exactly the same number of minutes and hours as any other day. The difference is the amount of sunlight/daylight hours, as opposed to hours of night/darkness. And even this varies by where we live in relation to the equator. Those who live close to the equator will see little difference today– those near the North Pole will not see the sun dip below the horizon at all.

In some ways, today is NOT the longest day of my year. One of the longest days for me so far this year was the day my mother died. Even though it was February, when the days are “short,” that day was filled with questions, emotions, and obligations. Time seemed to stand still for a while, as we took in the reality that she had left us to go Home, and then time seemed to expend for all the aftermath of death. Who needed to be called and contacted? What would we need to do in the coming days and weeks to plan a funeral, notify authorities, pay bills and close accounts, etc.? How would we notify family and friends without “missing” someone? Each tick of the clock seemed to bring new thoughts and emotions.

I was thinking about time recently. We are still busy cleaning up Mom’s house and settling her estate. Days seem to pass quickly now, as we have deadlines, and much work to keep us busy. I’m glad for the extended daylight hours, but I’m also tired! Most days– even longer days!– I feel like I’m falling behind. And I find many hours are “wasted” on unimportant things; inconsequential things. Will I spend my time today any differently or more efficiently than any of the “shorter” days to come?

The Bible says a lot about time. (https://www.openbible.info/topics/time) We are creatures bound by time. We have a beginning and an end; we have a limited life span. And we do not know those limits. We cannot break the bonds of time to live longer lives, or to live our lives in the distant past or future. That is the “stuff” of science fiction and daydreams. We cannot bargain for more time, whether we are thirty and diagnosed with cancer or ALS or another terminal illness, or we are ninety-two and long to reach our centennial birthday. Even our individual days are dictated by the march of time. We cannot live our days backward. We cannot stop the clock or stretch out a certain hour over any other. Instead, we must make the most of every minute; every day that we are given.

But we were not created just for one short lifespan. Our bodies will wear out and die, but our spirits were created for eternity. There will be no “longest” or “shortest” days in Heaven or Hell. There will be no sunsets, no endings or “do-overs”, no deadlines. For the Christian, this is a great comfort. My Mom has said her last “Goodbye.” She never has to worry about deadlines, unfinished tasks, or “putting off until tomorrow..” My grieving is over a temporary loss; a brief “au revoir”, rather than a gaping chasm of eternal separation.

But there will be a very different “longest day” for those who do not choose Christ in this life. And that day will be one of endless darkness, endless despair. There will be no sunrise, no rest, no refreshment or renewal, no “tomorrow.” Today, I pray that we would “number our days” in this life (Psalm 90:12), and put them to good use. I pray that I would reflect God’s love to those who are living in the shadow of that endless darkness. I pray that the Holy Spirit might shine a light (through me and through others) that would draw people to Him.

There will be many hours of light today, but the days will grow shorter. The seasons remind us that time on Earth is fickle and fleeting. May we live wisely in this “longest” day of the year!

June 21, 2023 0

Evidence of Things Not Seen

*Note: This was originally posted in August of 2021.

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.For by it the elders obtained a good testimony.
Hebrews 11:1-2 NKJV via Biblia.com

And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.
Hebrews 11:6 ESV via biblegateway.com

Prayer is an act of faith. Whether a prayer of confession, adoration, thanksgiving, supplication, or a combination of all these types, we pray to an invisible God. We do not see Him, but we acknowledge that He exists, and that He hears us when we pray. We also acknowledge that He forgives sins, is worthy of our adoration and thanksgiving, and that He cares about our needs and desires.

Faith is defined by the writer of Hebrews as “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” There are many who scoff at this type of faith, claiming it is “blind faith.” Because we cannot see God, because we do not hear Him audibly, because we cannot touch Him–they claim that our faith is nothing more than wishful thinking or delusion. But our faith is actually “evidence” of God’s existence– not because we make a claim to believe, but because we act on and live out our belief. One brief prayer whispered in panic is not compelling, but a lifetime of praying and faithfully acting on the belief that God listens and responds–that is evidence that commands attention.

Sometimes, we become so familiar with the ancient stories of the Bible, that we discount the very real faith shown by the “elders.” Noah didn’t build a rowboat or even a trading ship– he built an Ark to withstand a flood he could not have imagined. Abraham left his home to go to a land God would show him– he had no map, or any way of knowing what awaited him. He lived as a nomad in tents the rest of his life. But what about his life before? He didn’t begin as a nomad and a wanderer. And there was nothing to suggest that he would ever become the patriarch of an entire nation/many nations. The shepherd boy, David, was told that he would someday be king. Yet he put himself in mortal danger several times, and refused to challenge King Saul in order to claim the crown. Daniel was certainly aware of the danger he was in over the course of his service to foreign kings, yet he stood firm in his convictions, when common sense would have had him compromise to keep his position (and his life!).

Faith (and praying in faith) doesn’t always some easily. We are bombarded with images and sounds that suggest that God does NOT exist, or that He does not listen or respond. I have prayed many times for people to be healed of cancer, only to see them die. I have days filled with stress or frustration, when my prayers seem to go unheard. Does this mean that my faith is void, or based on nothing more than a vapor?

Photo by Merlin lightpainting on Pexels.com

No, because faith is the evidence, not of the things I am seeing or experiencing now, but of things unseen. My perspective is narrow and distorted. I may see my friends’ deaths as the “end.” I may see my temporary trials as impossible obstacles and heavy burdens. I may see my past as a prison, trapping me in the bad choices I have made, or the hurts I have suffered. Faith is the evidence that such things, while they are real, and devastating, are not the entire picture, or the final word. Faith is the evidence that life is worth celebrating, even on the “bad” days. Faith is the evidence that God is bigger than injustice, or disease, or heartbreak, or death.

Faith isn’t “proof” of God’s existence for those who will not believe. But it is strong and solid evidence for those who are searching. When I pray for someone else’s health, I am not ordering God to do what I want. If He doesn’t answer with immediate or total healing, it is not because I don’t have enough faith or because He just doesn’t listen to me. Buy when I lift others up in prayer, I am acting on the promise that God will listen and act according to His perfect and sovereign character. I have seen miracles of healing; I have also seen miracles in suffering and even death. “Things not seen” often includes things outside of my knowledge or perspective– things that I can only see after I take steps of faith that take me out of my limited vision.

As I write this post, I’m having one of those “bad” days– frustrating, filled with stress and pain. And not just my own– I’ve had several friends and family members who are dealing with death, disease, job loss, broken family issues, and more. Two of my childhood classmates died within a week of each other earlier this month, while three families in our church are dealing with hospitalizations and a death. And that isn’t even covering the crises in Afghanistan, Haiti, Tennessee, and elsewhere– floods, persecution, earthquakes and hurricanes, upheaval, and more. Those are the things we see. Faith is not blinding ourselves to those realities. It is choosing to believe that there is much more that we do not see–that God is in control, and that He is capable of redeeming and restoring even the mess that surrounds us.

I sat down to write this post, and had to stop–my faith was taking a beating. But I prayed. I listened for that still, small voice that led me to revisit Hebrews 11. I phoned a friend. Small steps of faith, but God is faithful. He gave my faith a booster shot. He can do the same for anyone who comes to Him in faith.

June 19, 2023 0

Dust in the Wind

Several years ago, there was a popular song lamenting that, “all we are is dust in the wind.” The song evokes a feeling of hopelessness– we are weak, small, and helpless as dust in the wind. It speaks of impermanence, brevity, sadness, and despair in the face of forces greater than ourselves, and offers a warning not to “hang on” to earthly vanities.

The Bible speaks to this –God told Adam in the Garden of Eden that he would die and return to the dust from which he was formed (Genesis 2:7 and 3:19). Abraham was told that his seed would be “like the dust of the earth;” spread out across the earth and unable to be counted. The book of Job is filled with images of dust and ashes, as Job, homeless and afflicted, sits covered in them, talking of his life and death, and the emptiness of loss.

But there are surprisingly few references to dust in the New Testament. Jesus tells his disciples to visit cities, and where the people will not listen, the disciples are to leave and “shake the dust from (their) feet” as a testimony against them (Matthew 10:14; Mark 6:11; Luke 9:5)

There are two aspects of dust I want to look at today. First, as the song suggests, dust is carried along by the wind. It has no permanence, no weight, no importance, no resistance, and is swept away by a chance wind, or by design with a broom or dust cloth. Dust is not cherished, but discarded. But dust is not destroyed by the wind– it is carried, lifted, moved, and dispersed, but not destroyed. The dust of today will be somewhere else many generations from now, and the dust that settles on our floors, tables, and under the bed may have been blown there from thousands of miles and centuries away! In just such a way, our lives– fragile and brief, leave traces of words spoken, kindnesses shared, and sacrifices made, that live long after our bodies return to ashes and dust. There is an amazing glory in a mote of dust carried by the stillness into a beam of sunlight. It sparkles and dances and drifts in a graceful spiral, suspended in light and air. And there is glory in a life lived in the light, seeking stillness and grace, being carried by the slightest whisper of God’s eternal love.

Secondly, dust that is not in motion, not in the light, IS discarded, unwanted, corrosive, and dead. There is no glory in layers of accumulated dust covering the beauty of an antique dresser or building up in the corner of a room. Dust that is NOT carried on the wind sits, worthless and destructive. It gets absorbed into an unsightly pile of sad, dead matter, and it sits– going nowhere, doing nothing. We shake it off, brush it off, wash it off, sweep it away, and get rid of it.

Dust comes from death– dead skin cells, dead plant and animal matter–and I think there is a very real reason it is mentioned so often in connection with sin, sickness, unbelief, judgment, and death (though not in all cases). God does not want to leave us unmoved and dead– He wants to bring us to glory and give us new life in Him. We are dust in the wind– but that is not all we are. Instead, it is what we are for a brief moment in time– being carried to a new destination, or sinking and settling into despair.

I pray that we will be lifted up in prayer and faith today, to dance in the light of God’s glorious grace, and carry our mote of glory and grace to wherever God my send us.

June 12, 2023 0

Tag: death