Tag: legacy

“Seeing” Answered Prayer

God always hears our prayers. He always has an answer. But it isn’t always the answer we expect. Sometimes, God answers, “No,” or “Not yet.” Sometimes, He answers in ways that seem confusing and mysterious, and even ironic.

I remember as a young teen praying for a woman in the community who had lymphoma. In treating her condition, the doctors, trying a new experimental treatment, did permanent damage to certain muscles, leading to a progressively debilitating condition. She died a slow and painful death, unrelated to her original condition. Where was God? How could He listen to our prayers and give such a cold, cruel answer?

But God sees a bigger picture than we do. This precious woman had incredible faith and grit. She had spent years working diligently to help others and teach God’s Word. She continued her work, even in the midst of her health struggles almost to the end of her life. What might have caused some people to turn their backs on God made her more dependent on His Grace. She faced her pain and weakness with grit, strength, and hope in God’s eternal healing. God’s answer wasn’t to rescue her from the suffering, but to be present in it with her. And her example lives on to this day.

Some people would read about this and be dismissive. What a cop-out! What a delusion! But there is much more to her story than her own condition or even her response. One of the men in our church really struggled with God’s seeming indifference. He wrestled with his own faith for many months while watching her get weaker and weaker. But through his struggle, he grew in his conviction that God was present in every situation. He was inspired to do short-term mission work, partly as a result of this growth. Knowing that God would be with him, he threw himself into loving people from a different culture–different climate, different language, different work ethic– and helped build churches and other facilities for those in need. Many people were helped, inspired, and encouraged because of his dependence on God– a dependence enhanced by facing his own questions and doubts.

Family members and community members, watching her struggles, were inspired to pick up where she left off– working and teaching and reaching out to others with zeal and joy–following her marvelous example. Today, some of her family members are leaders in their churches, raising the next generations of witnesses to God’s mercy and power. Doctors, having failed in her treatment, learned from it– a difficult lesson for all, but a lesson, nonetheless. Her joyful attitude (before and during her struggles) inspired me to direct the Vacation Bible School program at our church for a few years, and to teach Sunday School when I moved to a new location. And those are just a few of the ways I have “seen” God’s answers to our prayers. God did not give our friend the physical healing we wanted. But her struggles– and her response of faith and perseverance–inspired a ripple effect far beyond her own pain and disappointment. And she has received the ultimate healing! Her pain, intense and unjust as it was, was only temporary. Her life, her legacy, her joy– they all live on!

How often do we look at a situation and think we know what is “best?” How often do we feel that God’s answers are “wrong?” Wrong timing, wrong outcome, full of hardship or pain– how can this be God’s “perfect” will for us? There was nothing about this woman’s situation that was comfortable; no reason to see a good outcome for her or her immediate family. She died. She experienced pain, with no earthly justice. Her suffering was undeserved and unmitigated. She refused to sue the hospital or the doctors– she wanted them to be able to continue to learn from her experience so they could help others NOT to suffer in the future. But her life was shortened and made grueling in the process, and she received no payout, no financial compensation, no symbolic reparation for her sacrifice. We received no “miraculous” answer to our prayers. It seemed at the time that the more we prayed for healing, the worse her condition became. We continued to pray anyway, knowing that God DID hear us, and God’s ways were not our ways– they are always better. Even when His ways seem like silence.

This all happened several decades ago, and many of the “answers” from our urgent prayers are still hidden from our eyes. Many of our questions remain unanswered. But God’s will is still active, even in these tragic circumstances. Someday in Heaven, it may be revealed to us exactly how God used this woman’s life and struggles to bring about blessings to hundreds of other people– causing them to grow strong through her weakness, drawing them to His healing and wisdom in a world of pain and confusion.

I have lost many friends to cancer. I pray for each one, and the outcomes are never exactly the same. Some go into remission, only to have the cancer return three or four years later. Others get amazing healing– surgeons are astonished and perplexed by the rapid or miraculous disappearance of cancer cells. Some go into fast decline and die almost immediately after their diagnoses. And each situation impacts people in different ways, showing God’s power and presence for those who are willing to look for them. Prayer isn’t a magic formula for immediate and total healing. Prayer is lifting up a situation that is beyond our control or understanding and trusting that God has a perfect plan beyond what we can see or understand. Cancer cannot take God by surprise. Death cannot outwit or overpower God. We live in a world where Evil can overwhelm us; our bodies can betray us; our future can be lost in the fog of uncertainty and suffering. But God is present– not only IN our suffering, but ABOVE and BEYOND our suffering.

We don’t pray for our friends and loved ones to suffer. We want them to be healed, to be free of pain and grief; to be at ease and blessed with abundance. This is normal; it is good. God wants to bless us. It doesn’t bring Him joy to watch us suffer. But He also wants us to see the blessing of His presence, His wisdom, and His power. Sometimes, we can’t see that as we look around. Sometimes, we need to look up! Even from a hospital bed (see John, chapter 9). Even from the flames of suffering (see Daniel, chapter 3). Or from the belly of a whale (see Jonah, chapter 2). And we will find that God is there.

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Leaning…

(Note: this is an edited and updated post from a couple of years ago.)

“What a fellowship; what a joy divine,
Leaning on the Everlasting Arms…”

Bethel Church, Penn Twp., Michigan

Years ago, growing up in a small community, and attending a tiny rural church in southwestern Michigan, we sang this song often at church. As a child, I liked the tune, but had little idea what the song meant. In fact, when I was very small, before I could read, I misunderstood the lyrics– I thought the congregation was singing “wienies” on the everlasting arms. I made my grandmother laugh when she heard my interpretation! She helpfully corrected me. So I knew the basics. I knew the word fellowship– that was what we called the pot-luck meals and social times we had in the church basement. I knew that Joy was like happiness, only better. I knew that “divine” referred to God and Heaven, and Holy things. But I also knew that leaning was frowned upon– I was told to stand up straight, sit up straight, and never lean back on the two hind legs of the chair in class. How could there by fellowship, and divine joy in leaning? And what were the Everlasting Arms? It sounded like the name of a hotel. It was a long time before I began to understand the joy of leaning, or even falling into the “everlasting” arms of the Savior.

As I have lived, I have grown to understand and cherish these words. There IS a fellowship and a joy divine in learning to lean on the Everlasting Arms of Jesus; to experience the strength and peace that passes my own understanding when I trust fully in Him, instead of in my own plans, whims, dreams, or wishes. There is no shame in leaning on God– in fact, if we don’t learn to lean on the solid wisdom and faithfulness of God, we will slouch into bad habits, “fall” into false teaching, or simply collapse in our own limitations and weaknesses, much like a chair leaning on just two legs! And this fellowship is not only with my Creator, Sustainer, and Savior; it is with all the brothers and sisters around the world who have learned to trust Him, too. I can travel to foreign countries, with different languages and customs, and still feel the kinship and “belonging” with other Christians. It is deeper and more mysterious than just the recognition that we are fellow human beings. It goes even deeper than the love for others who are loved by God. It is the recognition that God’s Holy Spirit surrounds us, flows in and through us, strengthens us, and unites us IN HIM. We are fellow travelers; fellow workers; fellow members of a universal family– one that is more inclusive than nationality, race, ethnicity, language, ideology, or denomination. We can (and do) lean on the ONE who is eternally trustworthy, eternally faithful to walk beside us, empower us, comfort and heal us, and lead us home. And we can lean on each other, knowing that our mutual strength comes from Him.

I love worship services, and I’m thankful that we have an active church where people worship; where the Bible is taught and revered; where families and individuals are welcomed and loved. But I sometimes miss the old “prayer meetings” in the church where I grew up. Every Wednesday night, while the children were (supposedly quietly) playing games, singing songs, and listening to the great stories of the Bible, a faithful (and sometimes rag-tag) group of adults were upstairs in a huddle. Some pulled up chairs and sat in a circle; others knelt the whole time. They prayed for nearly an hour–prayers of thanksgiving and prayers of urgent needs; prayers expressing worship, and prayers expressing inadequacies and failures; prayers for the children downstairs, for other members of the church family; prayers for the community, the country, and the world. As I became a teenager and a young adult, I was privileged to join in. I watched wise, older men and women express their confidence in God’s provision, and pour out their hearts for their children and grandchildren. I listened to young adults asking for wisdom and guidance as they raised families and witnessed to co-workers. I felt the joy and grief and true “fellowship” that came when several hearts turned as one to God.

I have since attended many “prayer meetings”– some planned, some spur-of-the-moment; some held in churches; others held in homes or dorm rooms, even on street corners or grocery stores; some lasting only a few minutes; others lasting hours. I am blessed to be able to attend a weekly “prayer meeting” on Wednesday mornings at my local church. There is something mystical about communal prayer– listening and sharing in prayer with others. The prayers of God’s people are compared to incense– and communal prayer is like a delicately-balanced blend of fragrances, infusing the very room with blessing, and even a touch of Glory. (For more about how prayer is likened to incense, see https://the-end-time.org/2017/06/13/how-is-incense-like-prayer/) It is yet another miracle of the power of prayer, that we can combine hearts and voices to honor God; to lift up very human concerns to the One powerful enough to hold each one in the palm of His hand. It should not replace personal prayer and Bible Study, or communal worship services, but it is a wonderful practice for any Christian to “come alongside” in prayer with fellow believers. It is also humbling to think about how such a seemingly small act can have far-reaching consequences.

God “inhabits” the praises of His people (Psalm 22:3). When we show up and participate in communal worship and prayer, we get a greater sense of God’s presence, His power, His Glory, His Love, and His eternal purpose. What a Fellowship! What a Joy, Divine!

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Of Angelic Visions, Devilled Eggs, and Family Blessings

Yesterday, David and I attended a family reunion. It was a relaxed atmosphere of cousins and siblings reuniting to share memories, and great food! As with all family gatherings, there were some who couldn’t make it– work, previous commitments, travel tangles, etc. Others chose not to come– some have been hurt in the past; others never saw their invitation; some just don’t like the other members of our family or don’t want to spend their time with family when they could be doing something else…

David and I went, not only because we genuinely enjoy spending time with family members, but also because I wanted to share the progress of a book I’m writing about our shared ancestors, George and Lila Green of Penn Township, Cass County, Michigan. I’m named after my great-grandmother, and I have been blessed to receive several boxes of memorabilia, including letters, photos, diaries, and other writings that cover many of the events and memories of their lives spanning over fifty years of marriage. I’m excited to have access to so many primary source materials for a family history.

As I brought in my “dish to pass,” I noticed that one of my cousins had the exact same idea as me! We had each brought two trays of devilled eggs– 40 each and 80 all together! We compared notes on recipes, and agreed to taste each other’s eggs to make sure they were all good– and they were all awesome. There were only a few eggs left after all the food was eaten– and there were fewer than 80 people in attendance, so it seems that almost everyone enjoyed at least one egg, and several came back for seconds, in spite of the fact that there were other wonderful dishes to enjoy. There can never be too many devilled eggs at a family reunion!

Before I got a chance to share about my book with everyone, I spoke with a couple of my cousins, and they shared some of their memories of my great-grandmother. Near the end of her life, she battled cancer, and near the end of her earthly struggle, she imparted to some of her grandchildren that she had a vision of an angel asking her if she was “ready to go.” She answered that she was. A few days later, she passed into glory. This was a great comfort to those who faced “losing” their loved one. Two different cousins recounted the same tale, which confirmed for me that her words (and her strong faith) had a great impact on our family.

One of the reasons I feel compelled to tell the story of my great-grandparents is the lasting legacy of Faith and Family that they left behind. From just two people who married in1909, the family grew over a century to include over 500 individuals! And, while some of them have abandoned the faith (and/or the family), most have stayed connected– we’ve had family members who have served as ministers, missionaries, Sunday School teachers, BIble study leaders–even a stray blogger or two! In every generation, we have had family members who can testify to the power of God’s love, His provision, His healing, and His faithfulness.

In sharing about my book, I read passages from Lila Green’s diary recounting her attendance at a church Christmas Program at the little country church where, years later, I would first hear the truth of the Gospel. She was so excited that 14 of her family members were part of the program, while 19 family members were in attendance! Some who were at the family reunion were among those 19 members attending church with Lila Green almost 70 years ago. And many in the fourth and fifth generation after her came to the reunion after attending church with their families in a different millennium. I also read about some of George and Lila Green’s own ancestors– many of whom served in churches dating back to the American Colonial Era– Quaker Churches and Baptist Churches and log cabin churches and churches held in homes and school buildings over two centuries removed from our small gathering yesterday.

Bethel Community Church– where over four generations
of my family were introduced to the Gospel!

God is faithful. God created families to demonstrate His faithfulness across generations. When we teach our children about God, we continue to proclaim that faithfulness to the next generation. And when we teach about our family history, we demonstrate God’s faithfulness, not just to the patriarchs of the Bible but to “real” people just like us– people who faced sickness, hardship, and loss. People who had pets and hobbies, and even squabbles with their siblings over toys! Yet God has been there over all the years, teaching, giving wisdom, and loving them–and us– every hour of every day.

I think God was listening in when my cousins recounted my great-grandmothers vision. I think He probably had fun watching my cousin and I trading “devilled egg” recipes and tips. And I know He looked lovingly at each precious family member yesterday– those in attendance, as well as those we missed seeing.

I know not everyone has a happy family legacy like mine. But I also know that it’s never too late to start one! Who knows what another 100 years might bring to your descendants?! Who knows what kind of legacy you can leave behind? God knows! I pray that you will be aware this week of all the many ways God has blessed you over the years– perhaps through your family legacy…perhaps in spite of it–and that you will experience gratitude, peace, and joy in the knowledge of how God can take even just two people and bless thousands!

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Where Grief Meets Hope

We lost a family member a couple of weeks ago. We were shocked and heartbroken to hear of his loss. To know that we will never get to hear his laughter or watch his eyes crinkle up over a good joke; never hear him enthuse over history or a great movie; never enjoy the fellowship of being in the same room together again. He never got to retire from his job; never got to walk his daughters down the aisle; never got to enjoy the house he and my sister-in-law planned to build.

BUT

Chris had a wonderful life in many ways. He and his wife have three amazing adult children. He got to enjoy plenty of days loving nature and enjoying a good sunset over Lake Michigan. He harvested many morels each spring. He made music. He helped hundreds of people in hundreds of little ways. He was blessed.

We went to Chris’s funeral last weekend. We helped celebrate his life– his accomplishments and achievements, his vivid personality, his sense of humor– and we celebrated his Faith. Yes, there were tears at the funeral. We will miss Chris in the years to come. But we share his faith and his great hope. We will miss him temporarily. We will grieve for a few years. And then, we will experience a joy that will make us forget the grief! Not only will we see Chris again– to laugh together and share stories and songs– we will be in the presence of our source of Life, and Hope, Joy and Peace! We will be surrounded by the great cloud of witnesses as we live eternally with the One who loves us best!

Many years ago, another man died. There was grief, stunned disbelief, and terror. The family, friends, and followers of Jesus Christ mourned. They hid. Their world was dark with despair and anguish. All these years later, we look at paintings and sculptures of Jesus suffering on the cross. But, while we shudder at the horror of all He suffered, we do not look on such pictures with fear or despair. The Cross is not a symbol of Death’s ultimate victory, but rather its ultimate defeat. Jesus didn’t stay dead. His body was buried, but He did not stay there. We celebrate, not the horrors of the Cross, but the limits of its power to steal our joy.

This is where grief meets hope. It is where the past is overwhelmed by the promise of Eternity. Christians grieve– of course we do. We love life, and we grieve to see it end. We love being with friends and family– we feel an emptiness and an ache when someone we love is “missing.” But we do NOT grieve without hope. We acknowledge the brief sting of loss. But Death loses its sting in the light of Christ’s victory. There is no lasting victory in the grave. Our time is short; we are powerless to stop death from taking us; from taking our loved ones. But Eternity beckons! Even our time on earth gives us daily reminders– the sun rises each morning; spring comes after each winter; children grow into parents, and we get to love another generation.

Even when life is hard; when grief looms large and hope seems dim– hope does not disappoint! Because Christ LIVES!

Chris was buried earlier this week– his body was buried– but he LIVES. He is healed and freed of all the pains and frustrations of this earthly life, and because of Christ’s gift of Grace and Redemption, Chris is living all that he once hoped for. Because of Christ’s great gift, many of us will someday join him in singing God’s praises, in laughter, delight, and endless joy!

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Just 10 Percent

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.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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!

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Fervor and Faithfulness

Do you pray fervently? Do you pray faithfully? I confess that sometimes I go through periods of fervent prayer, but it doesn’t always last. And, while my goal is to pray faithfully, I sometimes struggle with daily prayer seeming bland.

Thankfully, God does not demand constant fervor and faithfulness (though He does provide His Spirit to help us with both!) God wants us to come before Him exactly as we are; He KNOWS exactly what we are feeling, and He wants us to experience His presence THROUGH both the peaks and valleys. Experience has taught me that faithfulness in prayer can often lead to renewed fervor. Fervor and ardency can be influenced by our emotions. I pray most fervently when I feel needy, or when I am swept up in joy, or when I am surrounded by others who are riding a particular emotion. But I pray most faithfully when I choose to step out in spite of my emotions or circumstances.

Recently, I was reading in 2 Chronicles about “Good King Asa” of Judah. If you read chronologically through the Bible, you meet King Asa in 1 Kings (briefly in chapter 15), and again in 2 Chronicles (chapters 14-16) Both times, he is classified as a “good” king in Judah, one who “did what was right in the eyes of the Lord.” He reigned for 41 years, and was a champion of reform. He was a fervent and devoted king throughout most of his reign, and was mourned upon his death. But sadly, King Asa ended his reign in rebellion against the God he had so staunchly served for most of his life.

God had blessed Asa with astonishing military victories and years of peace and prosperity. But after 36 years of faithful and fervent service, Asa seems to have turned his back on his faith. Another army threatened to invade Judah, and Asa, instead of turning to God as before, brokered a treaty with another local king for protection. He sent silver and gold from “the treasuries of the House of the Lord” to King Ben-Hadad of Aram for help in repelling the army of King Baasha of Israel (the northern kingdom of the Jews). He bribed Ben-Hadad to break his treaty with Israel, and together, they sacked the fortifications and caused Baasha to back off.

In spite of King Asa’s victory, the Lord sent a prophet to rebuke him. King Asa, who had sought the Lord throughout more than three decades of devoted service, became so angry that he had the prophet thrown in jail. He then began oppressing his own people! Three years later, Asa developed a severe disease in his feet. But instead of calling on God, he consulted only his own court physicians. He suffered for two more years before finally dying. This “Good” King, famous for his passionate pursuit of reform and devotion to God, ended his life embittered, angry, diseased, and despotic.

God still chose to use King Asa for good– Asa’s reforms were a key ingredient in keeping Judah from suffering the fate of neighboring Israel. Asa’s reign was marked by years of peace and prosperity. Many of the faithful Jews living in Israel moved to Judah, where Asa’s reforms meant that could worship freely and fully. In fact, there was such a revival that people took extreme vows to follow God whole-heartedly. What a shame that the leader who inspired such devotion would himself fall victim to greed, pride, and bitterness, and fail to truly experience the blessings he had helped bring about!

I pursue fervent prayer. I want to serve God whole-heartedly, and I want all the joy and peace of a close relationship with Him. But I also want to serve God faithfully, even when I don’t feel the passion I had last week or last month. Because I know that God is both Eternally Fervent and Eternally Faithful!

If you are going through a season where the feelings just aren’t as “strong” as they have been in the past; if you are tempted to coast on the strength of past victories; if you are wondering why your prayer life is flagging, or lacking in the zeal you once had– DON’T GIVE UP! Don’t let your story end up like Asa’s.

We are called to FINISH the race. And yes, we want to race to “win the prize” (1 Corinthians 9:24). But remember that our strength comes from God, not our own desires.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:1-2 ESV)

We don’t have to make a choice between fervor and faithfulness, but let’s not pursue one without the other. Let’s be fervent in the sprinting, and faithful in the long stretches. Let’s finish the race well!

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But Even If He Does Not…

16 Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego replied to him, “King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. 17 If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us[c] from Your Majesty’s hand. 18 But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”

Daniel 3:16-18 (NIV)

I hear a lot of American Christians complaining about the “dark days” in which we live. And indeed, they are dark. There is great evil in the world– wars, famines, injustices, hatred, division, greed, and immorality. But, along with complaints, I hear a note of whining. Isn’t God supposed to deliver us from just such evil? Isn’t He supposed to clear the way for us to love one another in peace and harmony? Surely, it can’t be His will for us to be laughed at, spit upon, misunderstood, and treated with contempt?!

The ancient nation of Israel was conquered and sent into exile. Israelites who had abandoned their faith, as well as those who had steadfastly served the Lord, were ripped from their homeland and marched to Babylon. Worship in the Temple of Jerusalem ceased. The Temple itself had been destroyed. There were no tabernacles, no festivals– none of the systems and structures of worship left available to God’s people. Yet some still worshipped– in homes, isolated from their fellow Jews, or in secret groups. They were not surrounded by reminders of when “their” religious beliefs were considered the cultural norm. Nor did they live in a culture that practiced religious “toleration” as we understand it today.

In the book of Daniel, the commitment of s handful of exiles is detailed as it comes in conflict with the oppressive control of the Babylonian (and later the Persian) Empire. Daniel and his three friends are challenged by the pressure to compromise and adapt to their surroundings. They are tempted and bribed by the promise of power in the court– if they can compete with other Babylonians. But they secretly hold fast to their “old” diet, and religious practices. They refuse to eat the rich food of Babylon– or bow to its gods.

In Chapter 3 of Daniel, the three friends, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, refuse to bow to a golden statue of Nebudchadnezzar, the megalomaniac for whom they worked. Even though he had appointed them to high offices, he refused to “coddle” them in their worship of a foreign god. He demanded that they bow to his statue– something God had commanded them NOT to do.

It might have been easy enough to secretly meet in homes and celebrate Passover without alerting those around them. It would have been possible for them to hide scrolls containing the ancient words of their historians and prophets, to be read or studied. But they were being asked to publicly bow to a statue of their King– to acknowledge him as a “god.” And they refused. As court officials, their refusal was not just a minor snub, but a scandalous insult. Yet they stood firm.

Shocked and angered, Nebuchadnezzar, a notoriously cruel and impulsive king, gave them a generous “second chance” to save their careers and lives by obeying his orders. Amazingly, the three did not even spend a moment considering their options. They answered, boldly, courageously, and graciously, that they would not bow down to the statue. And God rescued them from the fiery furnace, so that not even their hair was singed by the flames– even though their captors were killed in the very act of pushing them into the furnace! God not only rescued them– He appeared WITH them in the midst of the flames. This so astonished Nebuchadnezzar, that he ordered them released and proclaimed that no one should say anything against the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego–an incredible act of religious toleration for that culture and time.

The story of The Fiery Furnace is well-known. I’ve used it before in my posts. But today, I’d like to focus on just one little phrase that stood out to me this week. When brought before Nebuchadnezzar the first time, the three men said, “we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter…” (v. 16).

How tempting it might have been to have defended their refusal– to give Nebuchadnezzar a lecture on God’s Law and His past miracles. But they refused to explain or defend their actions. They merely gave testimony of their faith that God COULD save them, and that, “even if He does not..” they were willing to die rather than dishonor Him. And Nebuchadnezzar SAW the proof of their faith in a way that their words and arguments could not have accomplished!

Most of the time, when I hear Christians talking about this story, they focus on the miraculous deliverance of the three men from the flames. The lesson is that God will be with us, no matter what. He can deliver us FROM the flames, but often, He chooses to deliver us THROUGH the flames. And that is a wonderful lesson and a true promise.

But that deliverance should not overshadow the quiet dedication of the three men. Before God joined them in the fire, they were already committed to dying in silence to obey God rather than their earthly king. They stood to lose everything– their lives, their legacy of faith, their service, their families (who might have been left destitute or even subject to punishment)– all of it was riding on their willingness to suffer injustice and torture. We know that God “showed up”– literally– in their defense. And they certainly knew that God COULD save them. But they also acknowledged that “if He does not..” they were still willing to die. And they were willing to do so, not acknowledged as martyred heroes, but as convicted criminals.

Centuries later, Jesus Christ would appear before Pontius Pilate, who asked Him to give a defense. Astonished at Jesus’ refusal to argue and plead for His life, Pilate came to the conclusion that “I find no fault in Him.” (John 19:4) Jesus willingly accepted an unjust sentence of Death, offering no argument or defense, except the Truth. No one came to His rescue. And God did NOT spare His life! The Son of God died as a criminal on a Roman cross, betrayed by Jewish leaders. Yet, Jesus’ obedience; His willingness to die brought US life, and forgiveness and peace!

There are millions of believers in Christ today who must be prepared to face a “fiery furnace” moment–maybe it involves death or torture. Perhaps it only involves being teased or despised by a neighbor or a classmate at school. And we may pray for deliverance–that is natural. But how often do we give up the chance to argue, and justify our diligence, our “right” to worship “our” way? How ready are we to be seen as foolish, or even rebellious to the culture of the day? We long for God to come to our physical rescue– to join us IN the fire– but are we willing to let Him be our defense? Are we willing to be humble in the face of obvious injustice, and let God speak up on our behalf? And what if He does not?

The Apostle Paul also faced this dilemma. Not only were there Greek and Roman officials who thought him a fool, there were Jews– his own people– who were going around defaming him, denouncing him, and spreading lies and rumors. Paul (never one to let a good argument go unargued!) spent much of his time in letters writing out his defense of the Gospel. But, in his own defense, he downplayed his position and his great knowledge of the scripture. He was not defending himself “in these matters”– he was defending the Truth of the Gospel! He also acknowledged that God could use even detractors and tormentors to spread the Gospel. And he often urged fellow believers to live in peace with their unbelieving neighbors, even those who taunted them!

It is tempting in Western Culture, where Christianity has been normalized, to think that when we defend ourselves, we are defending Christianity. But what if, like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, we let God be our defense– in the flames, in the courtroom of public opinion, in our own families? What if we followed Jesus’ example and remained calm and confident, even under duress? What if we lived humble and quiet lives of integrity, ready to submit even to the flames or the cross, serving even those who would stoke the fires or pound the nails? God might just “show up” in ways we never could have imagined! Courage is often seen as boldness and speaking up in our own defense. But, sometimes, it takes greater courage to stand silent and let our actions– even when they are disparaged and misinterpreted– speak as a testimony of God’s power.

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We Are Family…

The Bible is filled with images of family–long lists of “begats” and genealogies, parables about sons and fathers, brothers, weddings, brides and grooms…God is even described as our Father, with Christ as “the son.”

One of my hobbies is genealogy– tracing my family’s roots back through several generations and several different places. While the Bible warns that we should not get caught up in “endless” and vain genealogies that lead to false pride and foolish divisions (1 Tim. 1:4/Titus 3:9), there are many good reasons to pay attention to families, family histories, and family dynamics.

First, the family is God’s design– God instituted marriage, parenthood, and family units. It is God’s will and purpose that we should not live in isolation and self-absorption, but learn to depend on and be responsible to others. Families honor, protect, love, provide, comfort, teach, encourage, build and work together. Even in a broken world, filled with dysfunctional and chaotic family relationships, the purpose and design of “family” is still part of God’s good and perfect plan for living. Broken families and toxic relationships are not a failure of God’s plan– they are the result of Sin’s power to distort and corrupt the Good that only God can create. The great news is that God also has the power to restore and redeem individuals and families; offering “rebirth”, adoption, and an eternal “inheritance” within His family!

Second, families can teach us about the astounding and limitless love of God. There is something about the bonds of familial love that stretch us beyond our regular capacity to hope, to sacrifice, to share, to grieve, to endure, and to forgive. Who has seen a mother or father go hungry so their child can eat; or a sister or daughter donate her kidney or bone marrow to help heal a family member? Or a father carry his son who could not walk, or a wife who visits her aging husband when he no longer knows her face? How can we see such devotion and not be struck by how much greater, wider, deeper, and more eternal the Father’s love is for each of us?

Third, family (particularly the idea of genealogies and long family histories) teaches us the eternal nature of God. We live our lives as part of three or four generations– a span of 70 or 80 years for many of us–and we concentrate our efforts on “making our mark” for less than that entire span. But even the longest of our lives are so short in the span of God’s plan for His people. We have one lifespan to play an important role in the story of centuries. When we fail to understand that role, we can miss our sense of purpose in life. Sometimes, we overestimate our own importance or miss the significance of our own legacy. Even “important” people are forgotten, or have their legacies tarnished or rewritten in the pages of history. And those people who never made the history books are often the inspiration for actions and movements that span generations and change nations. When I study the history of my own family, I find lives that were cut short by war or disease– yet these lives shaped the lives (or were the lives) of my ancestors, and without them, I would not be who or how or where I am today. Maiden aunt, baby brother, empty seat at the table– every life touches others in ways that God alone truly comprehends. “Coincidental” meetings, “unplanned” children, migration patterns, epidemics– all loom large in a single generation, but they all become part of the fabric of each person’s “history.”

Lastly, genealogy reminds us that we are all one enormous family! There is so much talk on the news and online about all our differences– language, culture, skin tone, beliefs, skills, abilities, interests, even diets!– and it is important to note that God loves variety and created us each with unique and precious differences to reflect His infinite character. But sin twists our differences into conflicts; sin spreads lies about God’s character, and thus, about how we (or others) reflect, honor, understand, acknowledge, or obey our amazing creator. Differences may cause division in our broken world, but they do not cancel God’s mercy or limit the reach of His love for us all.


This lesson is being brought home to me in a secondary way as I see the time approaching for my 40th high school class reunion. Of course, we are not all directly related. And we are all the same general age, rather than being multi-generational. But it struck me that our class has been very much like a family– we grew up together; we learned to get along (most of the time), to share, to work together, to understand and appreciate our differences and our unique gifts–we send birthday greetings and share pictures, we laugh together, grieve together, share fond memories and special connections with one another. We pray for one another, argue with one another, encourage one another, and challenge one another. There are some who have distanced themselves–whether through physical distance or emotionally– from the rest of us. Some have even ended their earthly journeys. But that doesn’t make them any less a part of our class/our family. We are short and tall, thin and stout, hairy and bald, dark and light complected; we are single, married, divorced, and widowed– some with children still at home; some with no children at all. We are rich and poor, healthy and ill, walking around with scars and wounds and unresolved questions, arrogant assumptions, or chips on our shoulders. And we are optimists and mentors, healers and teachers, helpers and protectors. We are loud and quiet, social and task-oriented, driven and laid-back, dreamers and doers. And in my genealogy research, I have made genetic and marriage connections to about 1/3 of them! We really ARE family, and I can show how we are related! How small would this world seem if we looked at our brothers and sisters across the world, and realize that those connections are so much greater than the differences that divide us?

Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

I’m also in the process of writing a book about my family. I estimate that there are nearly 500 people who can claim the same ancestral “roots” from the same two people, who lived through some of the most amazing events of the twentieth century! Once again, we don’t all look , or act, or think alike– some are tall, some are tattooed, some are old, some are newborns, some argue about college football teams, or politics. Some of us speak other native languages or live very different lifestyles. But we love each other, encourage each other, and many of us share our prayers and concerns and joys and pains. My great-grandparents (and all their children) left a legacy of love and faith that continues to influence and inspire the fourth, fifth and sixth generation to follow!

When we pray for others, we are always praying for our family! Praying for our neighbors and classmates and co-workers– we are praying for family! Praying for our enemies, for strangers, for those who look and speak differently than us–We are praying for family! May God give us eyes to see and hearts to love our brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, cousins and even the “long lost family members” and lift them up in prayer to the One who loves us and wants to bring us all into His family!

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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!

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What We Keep…

I’ve been posting a lot lately about going through my Mom’s “stuff.” Mom was a saver– a pack rat– a hoarder, really. She kept boxes and piles of useless things. But she also kept things that have value to those she left behind. My siblings and I have found old photographs, momentos, letters, documents, etc., that bring the past alive again..not just our past, but our family roots going back generations.

My mother with her mom and younger sister c. 1944

What prompts us to keep such memories; to hold tightly to faded papers, worn objects, shadows of days gone by? Sometimes, it is an unhealthy focus on past memories– good and bad– that keep us in the grip of “glory days” or old and festering wounds. But there IS a value to keeping a record of the past.

When I was young, we had dozens of books around the house, including Bible Story books. The stories of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac, Moses, Samson and Samuel, King David, Queen Esther, Elijah, and then Jesus, his disciples, the Apostle Paul…they were mesmerizing– and very instructive! God didn’t just give us Ten Commandments and a list of rules to follow. He left us with a rich tapestry of stories of real people, and their very real adventures. He has given us Parables, and Psalms, Prophets and Promises– the Bible is a living book that speaks to each new generation with timeless truths. I learned about the Faithfulness of God, His Holiness, and His Mercy in those pages.

The stories and photos that get passed down in families can also be instructive. I now have a baby picture of the grandfather I never got to meet, as well as a photo of him as a young man, and another candid shot of him wearing a milk bucket on his head (He was a dairy farmer)! I can see and sense his humor and love of family in new ways, and appreciate the way his life and early death helped shaped my own dad’s life. I have letters my great-grandparents wrote to each other when they were first married and starting their family. I have some of Mom’s letters when she was struggling as a single mother on a limited income. Many of these items I will keep–not only as a reminder of the past that shaped me, but to pass on to future generations. Other photos, letters, and objects have been given to certain other family members– it is part of the legacy THEY will pass on. Still other items I will let go– they have served their purpose and other items will take their place.

The little country church I attended as a child.

It has been tempting, with the amount of “stuff” that my Mom kept, to just throw everything out. Much of it has to be cleaned off, sorted, identified– and room must be found to keep it! So I also have to look around at what I have been hanging on to, and ask, “Why?” What lessons to I want to pass on? What objects tell an instructive story about my life? What impact will I have on others in the years to come?

One of the most difficult things to go through are the photos and letters my Mother kept. She kept nearly every letter and greeting card she ever received. They meant that much to her. Not the actual cards and paper– the thoughts, the love and connection–the people they represent were her greatest treasures on this earth. And I can’t keep them all. I don’t have space, and many of the people are strangers to me– her elementary classmates, co-workers from years gone by, great-aunts–people long since dead and, with my mom’s passing, forgotten by most. But I will keep some, because they are a testament to Mom’s love of others– her deep and abiding love for everyone who touched her life, and allowed her to touch theirs. I have thrown out, recycled, or given away many of Mom’s clothes and books, and I’m working to give away the thousands of unused greeting cards she had stockpiled but never sent. But most of all, I will keep the stories– stories of God’s faithfulness in her life; stories of how He worked in and through her life to touch hundreds of others; stories of how God’s Love blooms in the simple acts of kindness and baby steps of Faith; in the ordinary joys and tears and minor miracles of daily life.

And I will hold tightly to the stories of my childhood– of Moses and the Burning Bush; of Jesus the Good Shepherd; of David trusting God to face Goliath; of the women finding an empty tomb on the first Easter Morning. One of the pictures I inherited is a print of Jesus on the Road to Emmaus. Two men are walking along, talking to a third man. Such a simple act. Such an ordinary occurrence. But this is no ordinary walk– the man in the middle is the Risen Christ–the One who conquered death to bring eternal life to the two unsuspecting travelers. The print hangs on my wall now. The print itself is not of much material value– but the story! That is worth my life– to keep, to share, to cherish, to proclaim to those yet to come!

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