Whom Shall I Fear?

Psalm 27

Of David.
The Lord is my light and my salvation—
whom should I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life—
whom should I dread?
When evildoers came against me to devour my flesh,
my foes and my enemies stumbled and fell.
Though an army deploys against me,
my heart will not be afraid;
though a war breaks out against me,
I will still be confident.
I have asked one thing from the Lord;
it is what I desire:
to dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
gazing on the beauty of the Lord
and seeking him in his temple.
For he will conceal me in his shelter
in the day of adversity;
he will hide me under the cover of his tent;
he will set me high on a rock.
Then my head will be high
above my enemies around me;
I will offer sacrifices in his tent with shouts of joy.
I will sing and make music to the Lord.
Lord, hear my voice when I call;
be gracious to me and answer me.
My heart says this about you:
“Seek his face.”
Lord, I will seek your face.
Do not hide your face from me;
do not turn your servant away in anger.
You have been my helper;
do not leave me or abandon me,
God of my salvation.
10 Even if my father and mother abandon me,
the Lord cares for me.
11 Because of my adversaries,
show me your way, Lord,
and lead me on a level path.
12 Do not give me over to the will of my foes,
for false witnesses rise up against me,
breathing violence.
13 I am certain that I will see the Lord’s goodness
in the land of the living.
14 Wait for the Lord;
be strong, and let your heart be courageous.
Wait for the Lord.

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+27&version=CSB

There are a lot of scary things in our world– war, disaster, taxes, death, violence, injustice, disease, uncertainty, evil, darkness, even supernatural and spiritual darkness–enough to keep us frightened and sleepless every night! And we spend a lot of our time fearing the unknown–worrying about the future; worrying about things that have not happened, and may never happen! We worry about things that matter– the health and well-being of our loved ones, uncertainty about our job or home, crime and civil unrest in our nation or neighborhood, difficult decisions with serious consequences. We worry about things that are less urgent–someone laughing at us, hair loss, dropping a phone call, running out of gas, losing a game or an argument…

David had some real reasons to be fearful as he wrote Psalm 27–evildoers, enemies, war and armies, false witnesses, and violence. Yet, he found safety and strength in the Lord. We can take comfort in the message of this Psalm–God is faithful. He is strong. He is eternal and unchanging. He is a stronghold we can trust.

But before we get too comfortable, let’s take a closer look. David’s trust is not based on a superficial knowledge about God. David’s trust comes as a result of seeking God’s face and following in “your way” (v. 11). David’s life was proof of God’s strength and protection, because David’s life was filled with fearsome adversaries!

Many generations after David penned this Psalm, the prophet Amos wrote to the people of Israel– people who knew this comforting psalm, but had lost their fear–people who no longer sought the Lord’s protection or His ways.

Amos 5 Christian Standard Bible (CSB)

Listen to this message that I am singing for you, a lament, house of Israel:
She has fallen;
Virgin Israel will never rise again.
She lies abandoned on her land
with no one to raise her up.
For the Lord God says:
The city that marches out a thousand strong
will have only a hundred left,
and the one that marches out a hundred strong
will have only ten left in the house of Israel.

For the Lord says to the house of Israel:
Seek me and live!
Do not seek Bethel
or go to Gilgal
or journey to Beer-sheba,
for Gilgal will certainly go into exile,
and Bethel will come to nothing.
Seek the Lord and live,
or he will spread like fire
throughout the house of Joseph;
it will consume everything
with no one at Bethel to extinguish it.
Those who turn justice into wormwood
also throw righteousness to the ground.
The one who made the Pleiades and Orion,
who turns darkness into dawn
and darkens day into night,
who summons the water of the sea
and pours it out over the surface of the earth—
the Lord is his name.
He brings destruction on the strong,
and it falls on the fortress.
10 They hate the one who convicts the guilty
at the city gate,
and they despise the one who speaks with integrity.
11 Therefore, because you trample on the poor
and exact a grain tax from him,
you will never live in the houses of cut stone
you have built;
you will never drink the wine
from the lush vineyards
you have planted.
12 For I know your crimes are many
and your sins innumerable.
They oppress the righteous, take a bribe,
and deprive the poor of justice at the city gates.
13 Therefore, those who have insight will keep silent
at such a time,
for the days are evil.
14 Pursue good and not evil
so that you may live,
and the Lord, the God of Armies,
will be with you
as you have claimed.
15 Hate evil and love good;
establish justice in the city gate.
Perhaps the Lord, the God of Armies, will be gracious
to the remnant of Joseph.
16 Therefore the Lord, the God of Armies, the Lord, says:
There will be wailing in all the public squares;
they will cry out in anguish in all the streets.
The farmer will be called on to mourn,
and professional mourners to wail.
17 There will be wailing in all the vineyards,
for I will pass among you.
The Lord has spoken.

18 Woe to you who long for the day of the Lord!
What will the day of the Lord be for you?
It will be darkness and not light.
19 It will be like a man who flees from a lion
only to have a bear confront him.
He goes home and rests his hand against the wall
only to have a snake bite him.
20 Won’t the day of the Lord
be darkness rather than light,
even gloom without any brightness in it?
21 I hate, I despise, your feasts!
I can’t stand the stench
of your solemn assemblies.
22 Even if you offer me
your burnt offerings and grain offerings,
I will not accept them;
I will have no regard
for your fellowship offerings of fattened cattle.
23 Take away from me the noise of your songs!
I will not listen to the music of your harps.
24 But let justice flow like water,
and righteousness, like an unfailing stream.
25 “House of Israel, was it sacrifices and grain offerings that you presented to me during the forty years in the wilderness? 26 But you have taken up Sakkuth your king and Kaiwan your star god, images you have made for yourselves. 27 So I will send you into exile beyond Damascus.” The Lord, the God of Armies, is his name. He has spoken.

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Amos+5&version=CSB

The people have an outward confidence– they believe themselves to be under God’s protection and blessing. They offer sacrifices and sing worship songs and revel in their success and peace. But God’s words are frightening and urgent. Those who arrogantly call for the “Day of the Lord,” expecting God to pass judgment on their enemies will find to their shock and horror, that God’s wrath falls on them as well. Their confidence has been misplaced, because it has rested on a false picture of God, and an exaggerated sense of their own righteousness. God warns them that judgment is coming– and even as He does, He issues an invitation– “Seek me and live!” (v. 4– see also v. 6 and v. 14). God has withheld judgment, He has given His people opportunity to follow His way. Instead, they have followed the ways of the very enemies they used to fear! Their feasts and festivals have become nothing but a mockery and an affront to God–the same people who claim to worship Him are perverting justice and oppressing the poor. They cheer for evil and refuse to listen to the truth.

God is a stronghold and a light to banish fear and darkness–but a stronghold or tower cannot protect you if you are wandering alone and unprotected or worse yet, if you are leaving the tower to embrace the enemy in the dark! God doesn’t just want to be a light at the end of the tunnel– He wants to be a light to show us the road right in front of us, and a light to banish the darkness where our enemy hides! When we have a proper “fear” of the Lord– when we recognize His wisdom, strength, and sovereignty– when we seek Him in humility and awe and need, and dwell with Him, we need not fear anyone or anything else. When we make empty boasts about God’s favor and protection while ignoring His ways, and we drown out His loving warning and His call to return to safety…we should be afraid– very afraid!

Father, may I find my confidence only in You. I want to dwell in Your house and seek Your face today and every day. Thank You for being eternally strong, righteous, faithful, and merciful! Thank you for giving us warnings and providing restoration, hope, and salvation. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Casting Shadows

Today is “Groundhog Day.” Tradition says that on this day, if a large rodent called a groundhog peeks out of its hibernation burrow to see its shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter. For more history about this observation, see https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/groundhog-day-five-things-didn-095407401.html?fr=sycsrp_catchall .

Candlemas, the celebration on which Groundhog Day is founded, is actually the day of the Baby Jesus’ presentation in the Temple (see Luke 2:22-40). Forty days after his birth, every first-born male child in Israel was to be presented at the temple, and a sacrifice was to be made for his redemption. This traces back to the Passover tradition, when the angel of death passed over the houses of the Jewish families who had painted their door frames with blood. Meanwhile, the first born sons (and animals) throughout Egypt were slaughtered. In this way, God showed His Power and His Mercy, leading Israel out of Egypt in triumph, while showing judgment on the Egyptians. (See Exodus 12).

History and tradition cast long shadows. The Jews had been slaves in Egypt for nearly 400 years. A new tradition helped them remember where they had come from and celebrate the promise that God would lead them to their own land. The Jewish people had kept this sacrificial tradition for centuries, reminding them of God’s mercy in saving their sons, and in redeeming them as a people from slavery in Egypt. Christians, realizing that this tradition “foreshadowed” the coming of Christ, adapted it into a new celebration. Christians celebrated Candlemas for centuries, remembering that Jesus was presented as OUR sacrifice, OUR redemption from Death into eternal Life Jesus came to be our Sacrifice, and also our Light. 

But somewhere along the way, pagan beliefs and rituals were woven into the story of this day, until it has become “Groundhog Day.” Instead of the Lamb of God, we celebrate a common rodent. Somewhere in Pennsylvania (Punxsutawney), a small crowd gathers as someone lifts up a frightened groundhog and pronounces a weather prediction (one that is less than 50% accurate!) And everyone is looking for a shadow, instead of celebrating the Light.

The thing about shadows is that you cannot see them when you are looking INTO the light. You have to look away, turn around, look back, to see a shadow. Shadows are cast when something gets between the source of light and a flat surface. History casts shadows. Memories cast shadows. Sin casts a huge shadow. But Jesus is pure light. The Word of Life came to be a “lamp unto (our) feet and a light unto (our) path” (Psalm 119:105 KJV). We are meant to learn from the shadows of the past, but not to walk in them. We are to walk in the light, looking forward to the fulfillment of God’s promises, even as we celebrate the faithfulness of His past actions in the lives of others.

Light casts no shadow. But it banishes the darkness where shadows live. Our choices have consequences. We can turn away from the light, or step in opposition to the light, and cast shadows that may follow for generations–cycles of abuse, isolation, hatred, anger, or regrets. Or we can choose to follow the light, and banish the shadows of the past– bringing peace, repentance, reconciliation, and hope.

Heavenly Father, today, I pray that I will be a reflection of Your light in the world; that my actions would help banish shadows of doubt and despair, and shine with Your truth and hope for others to see. Where there are shadows in my life from the past, may I learn from them and leave them behind as I follow you more closely. Where I have cast shadows in the lives of others, help me to bring light and healing in Your name. Amen.

Ugly Christmas Sweaters

It’s that season of the year, when several companies have their annual “Christmas Parties.” Some companies, in an effort not to offend any of their employees, investors, etc., have stopped calling them “Christmas” parties– they are “holiday” parties or “year-end” celebrations. In fact, at one place I worked, they stopped having any parties for the employees, claiming it was a “bad look” to “waste” money on such nonsense! Bah, Humbug!

But company Christmas/Holiday parties have a tendency toward the silliest and least meaningful ways of celebrating what this season and its holidays are all about. Often, the festivities involve a cash (or open) bar, some sort of anonymous gift exchange– white elephant or “secret Santa” with a spending limit of $5 or $10 dollars, and an ugly sweater contest.

And there is an entire industry predicated on the modern tradition of the “ugly” holiday sweater. Garish, loud, often bedecked with pom-poms, tinsel, or even battery-operated flashing lights, such sweaters can cost a minor fortune. They get worn once a year (twice if you have to go to a second party with a spouse, friend, or as a chaperone). And, while I don’t want them banned, I think they represent some of the worst excesses of our modern first world. They serve no higher purpose than to draw attention to bad taste and mock the core values of Christmas, Hanukkah, and other seasonal holidays. They are about tacky and fleeting entertainment, at the expense of higher virtues. 

I’m not trying to be a Scrooge or a Grinch. The holidays should be a time of joy and laughter. But is a tacky sweater really the best we can come up with? Is it in the top ten best ways to enjoy a season of miracles, love, light, giving, and hope? (I feel the same way about the focus on drinking– waking up hungover and sick; not being able to remember the end of the party– how is this “fun?”)

In our effort to have “Christmas” without “Christ” or Hanukkah without miracles; in our efforts to erase God from the celebrations of HIS goodness, we have created a level of fake celebration that echoes the story of “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” We’re walking around with ugly sweaters, each more elaborately ugly than the one before, considering it a triumph to be the biggest fool in a forest of foolishness.

Imagine giving that ugly Christmas sweater to someone who was homeless and had no warm clothes. Would it make you laugh to see someone in those circumstances wearing your once-a-year indulgence? Would your ugly sweater bring hope and healing to those who are refugees this season? Do you wear it when no one else can see it? The sweater isn’t about the season. It really has nothing to do with the meaning of the Holidays. It’s about impressing people with your willingness to stand out; your ingenuity in finding an uglier sweater than anyone else; it’s about YOU.

What would happen if, instead of an ugly sweater contest, seeing who can drink the most before passing out, or a white elephant exchange of worthless gifts, companies celebrated with worthwhile activities– building community ties, honoring achievements, or maybe even reflecting on miracles in our midst? What if our celebrations were less about empty amusements and more about reflecting on what is genuinely worth celebrating–health, friendships, family, hope, and purpose? They might be less amusing, but they might also be more memorable and meaningful.

There’s nothing “wicked” about ugly sweaters or white elephants– but they are becoming symbols of the kind of “Christ-less” Christmas that offers mild entertainment, but no hope for the dark days of a long winter. They are some of the symbols of excessive economic wealth in the midst of emotional and moral poverty. Naked and empty entertainment, pretending to offer light and satisfaction, but settling for glitter and gluttony.

Today, I’m going to wear a sweatshirt to keep warm, and I’m going to spend some time with my family– building memories that will last much longer than last season’s ugly sweater! And I will spend some time thanking God for the sweatshirt, my grandkids, and for the incredible gift of His Son–the real meaning of this season of love, gifts, miracles and hope–our real reason for celebrating Christ-mas!

Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence

Christmas is a time of joy and light. But the time of Advent is often a time of somber reflection. We remember a time we have never known– a time before the coming of Christ the Messiah– a time before the mysteries of Heaven were revealed and before the victory of Salvation was accomplished. Advent reminds us of the spiritual darkness that existed before God, in human form, in humble obedience, and in sacrificial love, became the Light of the World, and the Hope of All Nations.

Before the bells rang, and the angels sang; before the kings brought gold and the shepherds ran to tell the news; before there were Christmas Carols, Christmas decorations, or Christmas pageants– there was solemn silence, fear, dread, and waiting. God had been silent. The prophets had been silent. The world had grown hard and cold.

Jesus stepped out of the unfathomable glory of the Highest Heaven– surrounded by armies of angels all worshiping Him and ready to do His bidding. In an instant, He became a helpless fetus inside a helpless young woman, a subject of the Roman Empire, and at the mercy of her culture. Her fiance could have repudiated her; her parents could have disowned her; her community could have had her stoned to death, along with her unborn child. No one, even those who were anticipating the arrival of a Christ, was expecting this tiny baby growing inside the womb to change the course of history.

He was born in obscurity, in ignominious squalor. He was the Lord of All Creation, wrapped in rags and laid in a feeding trough in an overcrowded city at tax time. There were no bells or carolers, no glittering trees or festivals of lights, no sounds of joy and celebration– not in that manger in Bethlehem. Instead, there were strangers pushing and shoving, shouting, and snoring in the inns and houses and streets, being watched by soldiers and pickpockets alike, as they made their way through narrow, unfamiliar streets and tried to lock out the worry and danger and dread. There may have been silence in the fields and valleys outside of town, but not near the stable where Jesus was born. No. The “silence” we sing about during Advent is the silence inside our own hearts– a call to “be still,” and know that this baby we celebrate is God Incarnate. He is the One to whom every knee will one day bow, and every tongue confess that He is LORD.

In the stillness and silence of Advent, in the darkness lit only by candles and faint hope, we being to understand the contrast. We re-imagine what came before the joy and hope and eternal clouds of witnesses shouting, “Holy, Holy, Holy!” We remember the days and years before the angels sang, and the star danced across the night sky– before the shocking crucifixion and the glorious resurrection of this still unborn Savior.

Let us spend these days of Advent preparing our hearts for the true wonder of Christmas. It doesn’t come in the wrapped packages under a festive tree, or in the feasting with friends or family. It doesn’t come with sirens and parades, or speakers at the mall blaring out favorite tunes. It doesn’t come in the majesty of a Cathedral ringing with the voices of a choir and organ. It comes when the silence and darkness of our sin and dread are pierced with the overwhelming glory of God With Us– Emmanuel is coming! But for now, for these moments, Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence.

Come To Bethlehem

“O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem!”

“Come to Bethlehem and see
Him whose birth the angels sing;
come, adore on bended knee
Christ the Lord, the new-born King.”

“O little town of Bethlehem,
how still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
the silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
the everlasting light;
the hopes and fears of all the years
are met in thee tonight.”

“Come!” It echoes in our Christmas Carols; it echoes throughout Jesus’ ministry. It thrums and courses through the prophets and into the Revelations, “Amen, Come Lord Jesus!”(Revelation 22:20)

Christmas is all about coming– the coming of the Christ Child; the coming of the angels to shepherds; the coming of the shepherds to see the newborn King; the coming of the Wise Men. And we are bidden to “come” to Bethlehem and share in the joy and wonder of God coming to be our Emmanuel– God With Us.

But the journey to Bethlehem is not as easy or a joyful as one might imagine. Bethlehem is crowded. It is dark and dreary. It is not “silent” as the hymns make out. It is noisy, dirty, and filled with people who “aren’t from around here.” There is no room here. There is no joyous welcome. There is not enough to eat, what with all the out-of-town travelers; shelves are bare, while garbage is piling up in the streets. Tempers are high, and patience is low.

“Come to Bethlehem.” At this moment, Bethlehem is caught in the chaos and struggle of war. Hospitals are in danger. People live in fear and violence. There is no peace and quiet– no silent streets or glorious angels in the sky– only the light and noise of rockets. We may not be able to physically travel to Bethlehem at the moment, but we can focus our prayers on the Middle East– to the hurting people in Israel and in Gaza– to earnestly pray for truth and peace there. We may not be able to travel back in time to Bethlehem, but we can travel across town to help our neighbors who need encouragement; we can step out of our safe and comfortable lives to share light in the dark regions of today’s world. And we can “Come” to prayer– to lift up those who are hurting, to ask for strength and courage to help, to own our own limitations and emptiness.

“Come to Bethlehem.” At this season, we are tempted to stay where it is cozy and familiar; or to travel somewhere warm and welcoming. We want the joy and peace of the Christmas Season to come to us! But we are bidden to come to Bethlehem, with its crowded streets and suspicious strangers; its unfamiliar alleys and rude Roman officials. We are bidden to come and share this message of peace where there IS no peace. We are asked to come where there is need and darkness and fear– to spread the Good News, not to sit on it.

“Come to Bethlehem.” Are we avoiding our own “Bethlehem?” Are there places we could visit to spread light; places we’re being called to, or places where we should go to “be counted,” but we refuse to come? Are there people we can encourage? Ways we can share hope and help– if we are willing to come away from our own comfort and (manufactured) joy?

Perhaps we long to hear the angels shouting “Glory to God in the Highest!” (Luke 2:14) But if we won’t “come” to Bethlehem, we may miss their song. We may miss seeing the message of Christmas if we insist that it comes to our pleasant palace, instead of seeking the Babe in the Manger of the Little Town of Bethlehem.

“Come to Bethlehem and See.” “Come, Let us Adore Him!” “Come!”

Behold!

Matthew 6:22-23 English Standard Version (ESV)

22 “The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, 23 but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!

adult anger art black background
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

O be careful little eyes what you see

O be careful little eyes what you see

There’s a Father up above

And He’s looking down in love

So, be careful little eyes what you see

whole song text here

This little light of mine–I’m gonna let it shine!

black frame sunglasses beside table lamp

Both the scripture text and the children’s song above are often used in the context of watching pornography or violent images, and their negative effects.  It is true that if we fill our sight with negative and sinful images, we will be impacted negatively.  We become desensitized to violence and evil; we become addicted to images that shock or excite us.

But I think there is more going on in this text, and I think it has a bearing on our prayer life.  What we choose to see also involves what we choose NOT to see. We talk a lot about what we shouldn’t be watching or seeing, but there are some things– even unpleasant things– that we MUST see if we are to be the light of the world.  Not only must we see such things, we must shine a light on them and cause others to see them.  Injustice, corruption, dishonesty– we must be careful to see them for what they are. And we must see them clearly to pray about them wisely.

person holding magnifying glass

We live in a world of optical illusions, and it can be very difficult to see clearly.  But that is what we are called to do.  If our eyes are good/healthy, we will let in the light of truth, so that shadows and illusions will become stand out.  If our eyes are bad/unhealthy, the shadows and illusions will trick us.  We will see only what can be seen in a glance, and miss the bigger picture. And we will pray, not with an eye toward the bigger picture, but narrowed in on our own limited vision of the world around us.

John the Baptist had excellent “vision.”  As he was out in the hot sun glinting off the Jordan, he looked up to see hundreds of people waiting to be baptized.  But his eyes were searching the horizon, seeing all the others, but seeking one face.  And when he saw it, he drew everyone’s attention to it– “Behold! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”  (John 1:29)  Our eyes, like those of John, should be looking with purpose and hope.

built structure against sunset sky

Throughout the Bible, God looks at people with love and compassion.  Several times in the gospels, Jesus looks upon or takes note of people (some of whom are seeking him, and others who know nothing of him) and has compassion on them.  Our eyes, like those of our Father, should be looking in love.  Love sees things as they really are– it sees sin, pain, disease, betrayal, war, hatred, greed.  But love sees beyond to people who need salvation, healing, restoration, peace, compassion, and hope.

I need to give careful consideration to what I allow myself to see– do I see all the negative, hateful, sinful things going on around me?  Do I see such things with a sense of purpose and with compassion?  Or do I ignore them and turn my gaze inward, shutting out the hurt and need all around me?  Do I see all the shadows and illusions and let my own light grow dim?  Or do I see the Light of the World, ready to shine (even through me), with hope and redemption?  Will I pray with my eyes closed and shuttered, or wide open?

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!

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

Let Your Light Shine

I live in an area not too far from Lake Michigan. All along the shores of this Great Lake are lighthouses. Some are small; some are tall; some are old and some use the latest technology Some are red; some are white; some are striped. Most are designed to warn ships of rocks, but others warn of shoals and hidden sand bars, as well.

Big Sable Point Lighthouse, Ludington

We think of lighthouses shining their light in the darkness, but lighthouses also shine in the daytime, through cloudy days, foggy mornings, and stormy afternoons. Most lighthouses also have fog horns, to warn ships when even the light won’t penetrate a thick fog.

This past week, a faithful lady at our church reminded us of a favorite song from childhood– “This Little Light of Mine.” We are called to be like Jesus, the “light of the world.” But what does it mean to “let our light shine”? And what does it mean to “hide it under a bushel?” (See Matthew 5:14-16)

Fresnel lens at Ponce Inlet Lighthouse, Daytona Beach, FL. Invented by French physicist Augustin-Jean Fresnel, the lens is much thinner than a conventional lens, which allows for a large aperture and short focal length at a lower weight.

Lighthouses use special lenses, called Fresnel lenses, to magnify the effect of refracted and reflected light. The resulting beam of light is stronger and can be seen for miles. Our own “little light”– our weak and imperfect faith; our limited talents and resources; our clumsy attempts– would not be enough to “save” anyone. But God magnifies our efforts as we reflect HIS radiance; His Love and Mercy. And many will be saved as we allow God to shine through us.

St. Joseph Lighthouse at sunset

Lighthouses are consistent– they don’t “turn the light off” when the weather is perfect, waiting only until someone spots a ship in danger. They don’t “dim” the light, or add extra strobe lights for the holidays or special occasions. Each lighthouse sends a consistent signal–steady and sure. But each lighthouse is unique– both in its outward appearance, and in it’s light pattern. This helps sailors tell them apart, and provides further help in navigation. As Christians, our light should also be consistent and unique. God created us with unique talents and opportunities–and we can “shine” the light of Christ in such a consistent and unique way as to help others “navigate” the trials of life. I am so thankful for the many faithful and uniquely gifted Christians who have inspired and guided me throughout my journey–and I want to be that kind of light for others!

Lighthouses are solid. They are normally built close to the shore, but not on the sandy beaches– rather on a rocky outcropping or a solid concrete and steel-reinforced foundation. As Christians, we have a solid foundation in Christ. We need to “shine our light” from that foundation– living out the Gospel of Christ– His life, death, resurrection, and imminent return. Building a bonfire on the beach may produce light, but it won’t stand out in a storm. Building our lives on any other foundation or religious “fad” may produce outward “success,” but it will not withstand storms.

Finally, and this may sound ridiculously obvious, but Lighthouses shine with purpose. They don’t twinkle or glitter; they don’t scream from the shore– “Look at ME! Look at ME!” They don’t shoot off fireworks to captivate onlookers from the shore. But they shine. They send a consistent warning, and provide consistent security to those who need it– and those who are seeking it! “This little light” may not be a blazing comet on the horizon, but without its steady pattern, there is darkness, confusion, and danger for those at sea (on lake in our case!) “No one lights a lamp and puts it in a place where it will be hidden, or under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, so that those who come in may see the light.” (Luke 11:33 NIV) We are commanded to shine– to Love others, to reach out with light, and hope, and yes, even a warning. To hide that light is to deny our purpose. To shine only for our own glory is to miss our purpose.

Holland (Michigan) Lighthouse

Father, help me to be a light in the darkness today. Help me to shine with Your Love, Your Mercy, and Your Goodness. Help me to be consistent, and to shine in the strength of Your Righteousness and Grace. Help me to use the unique gifts and opportunities You provide to show Your Character and Love to others.

Prayer on a Dreary Day

Father,,
Today is a dreary day.
It is not warm or sunny; it is not filled with joy or peace.
The house is a mess.
I’m not even dressed.
I feel emptied and drained.

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And yet…

Even though I can’t see
Your glory in my surroundings,
I know You can see
The glory of eternity.
You see the brighter days ahead.
You are already there,
Celebrating.

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You have not journeyed here to
Listen to my prayer…
Because You have always been here
Right beside me.
You are not put off by my
Dirt or disheveled appearance;
You are not unaware of my sadness–
You know my thoughts before I think them!
You know my emotions better than I know myself!

Today is a dreary day,
But it is just a speck in the fullness of
Your Eternal Light.
Shine into my darkness
Dispel the dreariness around me.
Help me to reflect, not the clouds,
But the Son!

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Thank you, Lord.
Even on a dreary day,
In Your presence, there is fullness of Joy–
Not the giddiness of a sunny springtime,
But the glow of a hearth-fire,
Sustaining me.

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So my praise today may not explode
In bright colors and exclamations.
But it will be a steady and steadying
Ember–warm enough to survive
Ready for You to
Ignite tomorrow’s fresh flame!

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