Peace on Earth

Christmas is a joyful season– for most people. And it is a giving season; a busy season; a bright and noisy season. But for most of us, it is NOT a peaceful season. Our small city had a lighted parade earlier this month It was festive and bright; there were a lot of happy people cheering on marching bands, floats, dancers, decorated fire engines and tractors, horse-drawn carriages, and other entries. People were eating, drinking hot cocoa, enjoying the entertainment, and even singing carols. The whole downtown was decorated with brilliant lights and banners and festive plants. But before the parade started, and after it ended, there were angry drivers trying to find (or leave) parking spots, bawling toddlers, rowdy people who had more to drink than just the cocoa, and several others who were just tired, and cold, and overstimulated.

While parades and festivities, parties and pageants have become part of the seasonal celebrations in many parts of the world, they are not what Christmas is really about. Jesus did not come to the world to bring “fun.” He did not come to bring toys or games, parties or feasts. He did not come to bring cheerful songs and fragrant holiday decorations, or hot cocoa and cookies. The angels who announced His arrival did not bring good tidings of candy canes, flying reindeer, or twinkle lights.

We sing about “Peace on Earth.” We talk about it, send greeting cards about it, and pray for it. But what do we MEAN when we talk about Peace on Earth, Good will to Men (Humankind)? For many, it is a wish or a prayer that wars would end, or that the petty differences between rival political factions or even rival churches would end. We speak of global peace or universal peace– peace between men (and women). And it is good that we should want such peace. But is that really the kind of peace Jesus brought with Him? He didn’t put an end to wars and disagreements during His ministry here. He didn’t “settle the score” for those who experienced oppression– the Roman Empire remained; the tax collectors still took more than their fair share; there was still slavery and abuse; greed and adultery and murder did not cease. And the world has been noisy, and messy, and angry and depressed in the two millennia since. And yet…

There IS peace on earth–it is the profound peace that comes with “Good will to Men.” God’s good will found its ultimate expression in the gift of the Savior. There may still be wars and pestilence, angry drivers, bad hair days, injustice, confusion, grief, and pain among people. But there is power to be at peace in the midst of it all– the power of a Peace that passes all understanding (Philippians 4:7); the power of Peace with God (Romans 5:1).

Jesus came to a world that knew only the rumor of such peace. Even King David– a “man after God’s own heart,” a man who wrote songs about peace and safety and joy in God’s presence–knew this kind of peace as something that had been promised. David could know the immediate peace of God’s forgiveness; he could know the blessings of obedience and the restoration of the joy of salvation (Psalm 51:12). But the everlasting Peace that has been accomplished by the Advent of the Christ– David, Moses, Abraham, and all the prophets had longed to know it; to experience it from within.

And THIS Peace we can experience– not just during the Advent and Christmas Season, but throughout our lives. Chaos, loneliness, grief, separation, injustice– it HAS BEEN defeated. It has no power to separate us from God’s Good Will or from His Loving embrace! The noise and anger and clutter and abuse is still real. We should not ignore it, and we certainly must not contribute to it or sanction it. But we no longer have to live without hope; we no longer have to fret and live in constant fear or defeat.

There is no parade tonight as I write this– there are still lights and occasional noises downtown– a door closing, a dog barking, a car passing. But there is Peace within– no matter how loud or bright, how festive or even forlorn things seem.

But Did I Pray?

I saw you at the store today.
I saw your stressed-out look
And your nervous glances.
I nodded and said, “Hello.”
I didn’t ask about your family–
Your husband’s job search,
Your child’s illness…
I felt so bad for you.

But did I Pray?

She came into my shop yesterday.
She was slurring her words a little
As she tried to focus.
She didn’t meet my eyes.
I was polite to her.
I felt guilty because I was a bit
Relieved when she left.
I wondered if she would be ok.

But did I Pray?

I worked into the night making pies
For the church bake sale.
Peach, cherry, pecan–
Perfect crusts for each one.
I gave my best effort.

But did I Pray?

I got up and wrote my blog for the day.
I spoke of prayer and the need to cry out,
To share my heart in prayer.
I quoted scripture, shared personal anecdotes
And offered suggestions about how to
Start and end the day–

But did I Pray?

Lord, forgive me for the times
I’ve failed to come to You–
In my pride, or in my need,
In my confusion or awkwardness.
In my sorrow, or in my joy.
Help me to seek You FIRST
So I don’t have to think back and ask

Did I Pray?

Childlike or Childish?

This is the week of our local County Fair. People around here are pretty excited. The exhibits, the rides, the animals, the events and attractions, the food, the games…there is a little something for everyone. I love watching the faces of the children– their wonder and excitement is contagious as they see the various farm animals, or ride the Merry-Go-Round, or discover the joys of Cotton Candy and Elephant Ears.

I grew up with the County Fair– not just as a visitor, but as a participant. And I am encouraged to see a new generation showing animals, exhibiting craft projects, learning new skills, and having fun. Some of them will return as 4-H parents; some to work as judges or to volunteer at a booth for local churches, clubs or businesses ; some to visit from out of town with their own children and grandchildren. There is something about a County Fair that is simple and pure–something that can inspire childlike wonder, even in adults.

Childlikeness is something we are called to by Christ. He loved children, and He told His disciples that if they wanted to be part of God’s Kingdom, they would have to become like little children (See Matthew 18:2-4). We are to pray to Our Father, having childlike faith in His good will and His promise to hear us. Childlike faith is not “blind” faith. Children are often frightened by the big animals or loud noises at the Fair. And they tend, (especially small children) to want to hold hands or stay close to those they know. But they also want to see and experience “everything”– because they trust that their parents and the Fair organizers will not put them in jeopardy. A childlike attitude and trust in God brings us the kind of joy and peace we see in children as they discover, rejoice, explore, and enjoy life– especially during Fair week.

This is not to be confused with childishness. While Jesus encouraged His disciples to have childlike faith, He reminded them that the “children of Israel” had often behaved with childish disobedience and complaining. God is a loving Father. He wants children who follow Him out of love, and who trust Him completely. But He will also lovingly discipline those who have developed a childish rebellious streak. I didn’t see much childishness at last year’s fair, but when I did, it was not exhibited by children, but by those who consider themselves adults. Tantrums, selfish demands, complaining about the weather or the crowds or the noise… While the children at the fair were gracious “winners” and “losers” at the shows, patient and content (for the most part) as they waited for rides or food, some of the adults were grouchy, whine-y, and difficult to please. I’m sure I missed a couple of epic meltdowns by toddlers, and some tears from a few exhibitors, but most of the children were just thrilled to be able to go to the Fair again.

It is easy to recognize and call out childish behavior in others. Obnoxious, foolish, self-centered, unreasonable– those are just some of the adjectives such behavior warrants. A childlike attitude is also easy to recognize– eager, grateful, joyful, hopeful, teachable, honest and open, loving and caring. Oddly, I know several adults who sneer at childlike behavior, even as they exhibit childish behaviors. They brag about their very “adult” approach– cynical, “realistic,” confident, “tough,” clever, independent, and self-sufficient. But they are stressed, angry, bored, distrustful, lonely, and sad. Our loving Father wants so much better for us! Being with childish people is tiring and depressing; being around childlike people is refreshing, joyful, and encouraging!

I’ve been thinking this week about my own attitude. The County Fair will come and go this year, but each day comes with wonders and struggles, competitions, waiting in lines, and dealing with crowds. Do I face them with an attitude that is childlike or childish? Do I trust God to be with me when I go through new experiences, even if they are a bit daunting? Or do I complain and demand my own way, expecting to “win” every game or competition, dragging myself and others through stress and tears? Father, help me to see Your world through childlike eyes of wonder and gratitude. Help me to see others with the love and joy You alone can inspire.

What Peace We Often Forfeit

*Note: This was a post from a couple of years ago, but I thought it was worth posting again, as this past week has also been somewhat hectic…

This has not been a “peaceful” week– unexpected changes of plans, setbacks, last-minute opportunities–even the good things have not been restful or without some stress. I’m writing this mere hours before it’s supposed to be published. It’s getting close to midnight, and I’m exhausted. I’ve had writer’s block, and decided to look through an old hymn book for inspiration.

Happening upon an old favorite, I was ready to turn the page– I’ve already used this hymn for inspiration before. But one line caught my eye in a new way:
“O, what peace we often forfeit,
O, what needless pain we bear
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer!”
I’ve sung this hymn dozens, maybe even hundreds of times, and I always focus on the last phrases. I know so well the “needless pain” of not praying. I also know the restlessness and stress of “going it alone” and not seeking God first. But I was struck anew by the phrasing.

Most of us would say that we are seeking peace, not asking for stress or anxiety or worry. We would say that we finally find peace when we pray. But how many of us are aware that we already HAVE peace, and we are losing it or even giving it away when we don’t pray?

What a friend we HAVE in Jesus
All our sins and griefs to bear
What a privilege to carry
Everything to God in prayer
Jesus has already promised us PEACE–“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.” (John 14:27 ESV) ; “do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7 ESV)

Prayer doesn’t just help us find peace, it keeps us from losing peace.

I found that to be true this week–even with the surprises and last-minute changes, I have felt a peace that I can’t explain through ordinary means. It isn’t anything I’ve done differently, or anything about my circumstances. It comes from taking everything to God in prayer. I didn’t have to “find” peace– I never lost it!

What a wonderful privilege!
(And, by the way, the writer’s block I was experiencing evaporated as soon as I refocused on taking it “to the Lord in prayer!”) It is still before midnight, and I will sleep in peace.

Why Say Grace?

When I was growing up, we always said grace before our meals. It wasn’t an afterthought; it wasn’t an affectation. It was just part of the meal. We sat down, said grace, and started eating. Sometimes, Dad did the honors; sometimes, it was Mom. And sometimes, my sister or I were asked to say it. It was usually something simple, though it wasn’t always the same. We would say grace at home, around our own table, and we would say grace at restaurants– wherever and whenever our family was together for a meal.

Today, my husband and I have the same tradition. We don’t have children in the house, but he and I take turns saying grace, and if one of the grandkids happens to visit, they know they may be asked to take a turn, as well. If David and I are eating out, we still take a quiet moment to hold hands, close our eyes, and say grace. Some times, other diners or wait staff will stare (or glare) or comment, but most of the time, they don’t even notice.

So why do we do it? Is it no more than force of habit? Are we just “holier” than other diners? Do we really think it impresses God if we say grace, or that God will be angry if we don’t say it?

No. But we believe saying grace is important. Here are some reasons why:

  • Grace is about gratitude. In our busy lives, it can be tempting to take things for granted– even things like food and family. We are BLESSED to have food to eat, and family with whom to share it. We are blessed when we go out to eat to have others cook and clean up for us. We are blessed whenever our family or neighbors can share a meal with us. God is a loving and gracious God, and grace is a time to remember our blessings.
  • Grace slows us down for just a minute to REMEMBER who we are, and who God is! All our blessings– including food and family and time to share them– come from God. Grace reminds us to be humble as well as thankful. It reminds us to see God’s hand at work in even the smallest and most mundane happenings in our lives. And it reminds us that God is faithful in all things, big and small.

  • Grace also helps us to remember to thank the people involved in our meals– the ability to buy groceries; the work it takes to prepare our food; friends and family who share our meals; neighbors who have given or traded with us for food; the cooks and wait staff that serve us at restaurants. Saying grace helps us SEE how we are interconnected; how we depend on God and on others in every area of our lives.
  • Grace gives us the opportunity to lift up our immediate worries and give them to God, instead of holding on to them. Grace is more than just a quick word about food. It is a time for us as a couple (or a family) to pray together about worries that are on our minds. Then, instead of being stressed as we eat, we can stay “in the moment” with each other, and enjoy mealtime together! It’s also a great way to share our thoughts, feelings, and concerns in a safe and informal environment. How much better mealtime is when stress and frustration are diminished, and joy and peace are given a seat at the table, instead!

Saying grace is much more than just a quaint habit from a bygone era. It is a vital part of our growth as individual Christians, and as a Christian couple. I believe it is a simple and quiet witness to others. I believe it has benefits for our digestion, our attitudes, and our emotions, as well.

Grace– not just the mealtime prayer, but the concept of Grace– is not loud or showy. It is, however, consistent, lovely, and powerful. May we say grace; may we show grace; may we live in the power of Grace today!

Miss Whitcomb

When I was in seventh grade, I had a teacher named Miss Whitcomb. She was notorious throughout the school system as the “toughest” teacher we would ever have. She was ruthless. She demanded absolute quiet, she did not grade “on a curve,” and she never smiled. She had an ongoing war with grape-flavored chewing gum and students who were three seconds late for class. She gave impossible assignments and offered little in the way of help, comfort, or guidance. She had a point system for behavior, and most students ended up earning detentions. Everyone dreaded her class. Many normally confident and competent students failed her class. They worried themselves into sleepless nights and second-guessing their own abilities.

I suffered through two years of Miss Whitcomb’s classes. I had her for American History, English, and introductory drafting class. She was exacting and frustrating. But I learned a lot. Her assignments often seemed impossible, but some of them were creative as well as challenging. I never learned to love Miss Whitcomb’s class, but I learned to survive it– and, while I can’t say I learned to like her, I learned to respect her.

Years later, I returned to my home town as a teacher. And Miss Whitcomb was my colleague. A new generation of students were suffering under Miss Whitcomb’s impossible demands, and many were sure they could petition the school administration to get her fired. They came to me seeking support. I wouldn’t give it. I told them I remembered how difficult her classes were, but that I felt that it was important that they experience tough teachers, like Miss Whitcomb, because they would often experience tough bosses or professors, and tough situations as adults; learning to survive Miss Whitcomb’s class would give them practice for tough times in the future. And I suggested that they look at her classes as a challenge to be faced, rather than a punishment to be feared.

I had a difficult time understanding why Miss Whitcomb was so “tough.” But I got an insight from an unexpected event. A group of high school students were going on a field trip to see the hit musical, “Les Miserables” at a local university theater. They needed chaperones, and I agreed to come, as it was a wonderful chance to see a national touring company perform a terrific play. Surprisingly, Miss Whitcomb also came as a chaperone. I never thought of musicals as “her thing,” but she had decided to give it a try. Of course, the students were terrified of her, and she ended up sitting on the far side of the group (but it was a much quieter ride up to the campus!)

The play was magnificent, but Miss Whitcomb was very disturbed by it. The next day, she tackled the teacher who had organized the trip to complain. Her complaint was not with the students or the performers. It was about the story itself! She was somewhat familiar with the novel’s plot, but seeing it “live,” she was bothered by the character of Javert, and his pursuit of the main character, Jean Valjean. In the story, Javert has spent the better part of 25 years tracking Valjean, an escaped convict. When he finally finds him, Valjean ends up saving his life. Javert cannot reconcile that the “criminal” he has been looking for– his enemy– has saved him. Miss Whitcomb so identified with Javert, that she found the story untenable.

Why was she so upset? Because Javert was “righteous.” He represented the law. His quest was legal–his foe, Valjean, HAD escaped from prison. He had every “right” to pursue him and force him to complete his extra sentence (Valjean had completed his original term). But Javert was the one, in the end, who needed to be saved. And Valjean, who had every reason to let Javert die, risked his life to save his arch-enemy. This was not how Miss Whitcomb viewed life. The righteous should be the saviors; the guilty should be punished, not celebrated. Miss Whitcomb understood right and wrong– but she had no room for grace or forgiveness.

There is a Bible verse that has always caused me to be curious. Romans 5:8 is well known– “But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” But Romans 5:7 says, “Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die.” (emphasis added) Paul is making a distinction that Jesus also often made–not everyone who is “righteous” is “good.” In Mark 10, Jesus is asked by a rich young ruler what he must do to inherit eternal life. The young man calls Jesus, “good teacher.” But before Jesus answers the question, he turns it back on the young man. “‘Why do you call me good,’ Jesus asked. ‘Only God is truly good” (v. 18). The rich young ruler does not want to know how to become “good.” He does not want to learn from Jesus. He merely wants to be judged as “good enough” to inherit eternal life. And he believes that he is “righteous” enough to have earned it.

Miss Whitcomb was a dedicated teacher. She was a “righteous” educator. But she never learned (or was able to teach) compassion, humility, or mercy. And that was a lesson her students missed. It is a lesson far greater than knowing U.S. History, or Government, or English grammar. I have heard from some of her adult education students that she was far less harsh with them. I hope this is true. She had a lot to give, and she suffered greatly from her own high standards and lack of compassion in relation to her younger students. I believe she had “good” intentions– that she believed her high standards were “right” and that any show of mercy was a weakness. But she missed out on so much– so many students who might have liked her better, and learned more from her–by putting righteousness ahead of mercy.

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We serve a God who is BOTH– completely HOLY and Good, and Righteous, as well as merciful, gracious and compassionate. God forgives us without lowering His standards. He sent His Son to save us– While we were yet sinners! Romans 5 continues, “ Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him! For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!” (Romans 5:9-10) We don’t have to be terrified of God. We don’t have to be constantly reminded of our past guilt and shame. We don’t have to fear that we will “fail” to please God if we choose to follow Him.

An Encouraging Word

It can be a dog-eat-dog kind of world out there.  Every day, I hear of people who are facing difficult and trying circumstances– health issues, loss of a job or home, loss of a family member or close friend, depression, oppression, harassment, rebellious or estranged children, abuse, academic failures, exhaustion from being provider, caregiver, etc.– even just daily stress.  It can really take a toll.  But it becomes even more difficult when we isolate ourselves.

When I get stressed, I tend to withdraw.  I don’t want others to think of me as a failure, or to think less of me in my struggles.  But this is one of the worst things I can do.  First, it means more worry and stress because I’m bearing the burden alone!  Second, it forces me to cover up my level of anxiety or depression be pretending that things are fine when they aren’t.  That would all be bad enough, but it gets worse.  Isolating means my focus turns inward– my problems become bigger, not smaller;  I’m so close to the problem, I’m not able to “look outside the box” for solutions, because my box keeps closing in on me.  I can’t see beyond my circumstances to understand if they are temporary, or if they necessitate some life changes on the other side of whatever crisis I’m dealing with.  And, worst of all, the only voice I listen to is my own, rehearsing and reminding me of the difficulties or failures I’m facing. What opportunities do I miss, not only to hear an encouraging word, but to share one with someone else?!

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We all need an encouraging word now and then; a voice telling us that we are not alone; that all is not lost; that there is hope.  I have been blessed with wonderful family, friends, and neighbors who are great about encouraging me, even when I try to shut them out or pretend that everything is grand.  Sometimes that encouragement comes through conversation; sometimes a card or text message or a shared piece of scripture; sometimes it comes through prayer.  I may not even know who prayed, or what words they used until days or weeks later, but their faithfulness in praying has become a lifeline when I feel isolated and overwhelmed.

This does not negate my need to pray and ask God for wisdom, healing, or strength for myself, nor does it suggest that God doesn’t answer my prayers.  Instead, it shows a pattern– God often answers our prayers by incorporating and using those around us.  God’s goodness and his love are shown best in teamwork.  We run the race to win, but we race together as teammates, not competitors.  We share sorrows, struggles, and joys. We come alongside; we lift others up, and they lift us up in return.

Encouragement does so much, we sometimes underestimate its power.  In a world of sniping, criticism, name-calling, and finger-pointing, encouragement does the following:

  • It lets someone know that they are seen and heard– that they are being noticed, thought of, and valued.  This shouldn’t be uncommon, but in a world where we are connected to so many be technology, and to so few face-to-face, it is HUGE!
  • It give us perspective to realize that we are not alone in our problems and not unique in facing difficulties.
  • It reminds us that hope and help are gifts to be shared, not something we must earn.
  • It gives us a purpose and a mission to be part of God’s redemptive work– Jesus gave encouragement and hope to those who needed it most, not to those who “deserved” it.

It can be a dog-eat-dog world out there, but we are not dogs.  We are children of the King.  Let’s send out some encouraging words today!

A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver. (Proverbs 25:11 (ESV)

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Also see James 5:13-16 on praying for one another.

IF

If is a very short word, but it can cause a lot of trouble in our thoughts and prayer life. It seems harmless enough, but it can be very corrosive.

  • “If” is generally a speculative word. We waste precious time and energy on things that didn’t or haven’t happened. What if my circumstances were different? Why didn’t I get that promotion “if” I could have gotten it? What if I had made other choices in my past? Would I be in a different place now? Could I have a “different” life? What if something happens to my health? “If” seems to promise a lot of possibilities, and lead to a lot of pointless questions, but it delivers nothing concrete.
  • “If” is a conditional word. If…then… This is not always a bad thing, but it can warp our thinking about higher things, like God’s Love and Forgiveness. Sin and its consequences are conditional. IF we sin, there are consequences. Some of God’s promises have conditions– “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins…” (1 John 1:9) But God’s love is not an “if”– it is constant and unwavering. His forgiveness is not based on whether we have earned it, or whether we go to the “right” church or say the “right” things. God’s promises are based on HIS eternal character and faithfulness. Nor is God’s truth conditional. It does not change or depend on our feelings or the opinions of our neighbors.
  • “If” takes our focus away from the present. We spend time wondering “what if..” about the future, or “if only..” about our past. And “if” is passive about the present. It causes us to focus on fear of the future and regret about the past, instead of action and accountability in the present.
  • “If” only has two letters, but the first one is “I.” I don’t spend much time asking “if” someone else made the right choices (unless I’m judging them, which is also wrong), or if something good or bad will happen to my neighbors. “If” usually focuses on MY wants, MY fears, MY past, MY circumstances.
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“If” doesn’t have to hurt our prayer life or take over our thoughts, but it must be kept in check. The Bible has a lot to say about letting the “ifs”, “what ifs”, and “if onlys” take over our thinking:

Matthew 6:25-28
Isaiah 35:4
John 14:27
Jeremiah 17: 7-8
Luke 12:28-30
Psalm 59:16
Philippians 4:6-7

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The Bible also uses the word “if” to focus our minds and prayers on action and on God’s promises:

John 8:36
2 Chronicles 15:2
Romans 13:7
Proverbs 23:15
John 13:35
Deuteronomy 4:29
Romans 8:31
Psalm 139:7-8

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There is a lot of power in that little word, “If.” If only we learn how to tame it!

Evidence of Things Not Seen

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

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. For by it the elders obtained a good testimony.

Hebrews 11:1-2 NKJV via Biblia.com

And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.

Hebrews 11:6 ESV via biblegateway.com
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Prayer is an act of faith. Whether a prayer of confession, adoration, thanksgiving, supplication, or a combination of all these types, we pray to an invisible God. We do not see Him, but we acknowledge that He exists, and that He hears us when we pray. We also acknowledge that He forgives sins, is worthy of our adoration and thanksgiving, and that He cares about our needs and desires.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Promises to Keep

The month of June is “Anniversary Month” in much of my family. My parents and one set of grandparents were all married on June 1st. My brother and sister both celebrate anniversaries next week, as does my one of my brothers-in-law. Marriage is in trouble in our society– many marriages are ending in divorce, while others are choosing to wait longer before making a commitment or choosing not to marry at all.

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We tend to celebrate marriage as being all about feelings of love, but marriage is really about making and keeping promises. Two people stand before witnesses and take sacred oaths to be faithful, to love, honor, and cherish (and yipes! sometimes even to obey) one another for the rest of their lives. And most people who take such oaths do so with honest intent. Why, then, does it seem to be failing so often?

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One of the reasons has to do with expectations. We expect the same giddy feelings of delight we have during courtship to carry us dreamily into the future. And we expect that the way we act during courtship will be the norm– the “happily ever after” fairy-tale life of story books and romance novels. We expect that we will always be the same as we are now: young, carefree, beautiful/handsome, and eager to please and be pleased by the boy/girl of our dreams… This is unrealistic. And even when we say we know better, we hang on to unrealistic expectations for our relationships, just as we do for other situations and circumstances. Even our “soulmates” can disappoint us, fail to understand us, suffer failures and setbacks, battle depression or addiction, lose their youth and good health, and even question their feelings for us.

Another related issue is that we usually take vows when we are young and our future looks bright. Circumstances can change; plans can fail. War, disease, financial ruin, the loss or miscarriage of a child or children, forced changes in living arrangements or work schedules– all can put enormous stress on a marriage.

But not all marriages crumble under the weight of unusual or unexpected circumstances. Some seem to erode slowly, even under “good” circumstances. Why?

One reason I’ve seen as I look around is a seeming inability to make and keep small promises. We make big, broad promises at a wedding– “for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health..” “’til death us do part…” But we don’t promise to forgive him when he leaves the toilet seat up for the fifth time this week, or wait for her while she tries on every one of the six outfits she can’t decide on for the upcoming class reunion. We don’t promise to compromise on which family we will visit for Christmas each year, or what color we will have in the dining room. We think of marriage as a series of negotiations (which it IS), but ones in which one of us “wins” and the other “loses.” And if we consider that we are the “loser” in enough negotiations, we feel entitled to “break” our little promises.

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Almost two years ago, my husband suffered an injury at work. He “punctured” his leg–the injury wasn’t huge, but it was deep, and on the back side of the leg, where he couldn’t see it. He knew it hurt, but thought it would heal up. Instead, it became infected. We had to go to the local wound clinic for several months, but between visits, I had to change the dressings, wash the wound, apply the various antibiotics and salves, redress the wound, etc.. David was still working full time, so the dressings would sometimes get sweaty and dirty on top of everything else. I promised to be faithful “in sickness and in health”– and that included washing out the pus-filled wound and caring for the pus-soaked dressings; it included wrapping his leg every other night for weeks. We went through hundreds of yards of gauze and anti-stick dressings, tubes of several different antibiotic salves, special compression socks, etc. Hundreds of dollars and hours later, his leg is slowly getting back to “normal.” During this same period, I was diagnosed with type 2 Diabetes. David has had to be patient with me as I learn to eat (and cook) differently. He has had to help me with glucose testing, dealing with low-sugar episodes, and put up with mood swings (even more than normal!).

And our health odyssey could be much worse– what about those who have to deal with cancer or dementia? But I think sometimes we minimize the commitment needed for the smaller, chronic conditions. The stress may be smaller, but it piles up, just the same. Our promises need to hold in the daily crises– big and small. And our promises need to hold when there is no crisis– and no adventure, either. Many marriages fall victim to “smooth sailing.” Things settle into a routine, and promises that were made to sustain the marriage in the face of “richer or poorer” fall apart in the settled comfort of middle class complacency. Vows take for “better or worse” fall apart in the “blah” and boredom of “good enough.”

Marriage is designed to be a picture of our relationship with Christ. As Christians, we are the “bride” of Christ! But we may need to review our vows and our commitment. Christ is eternally faithful; are we? In our flesh and our frail humanity, we cannot remain faithful on our own. But where are we? Have we lost our first love? Are we committed to Christ even in the midst of chronic illness or small setbacks? Are we flirting with the world because we have become “bored” with our Christian Walk? Has our joy been eroded by our failure to share our little stresses and secret sins with the Lover of our Soul?

Often, when we take a moment to remember our wedding day, we are reminded of the commitments we made, and the joy we felt on that special day. It can be bittersweet, if we have let circumstances or feelings pull us away from the one we love (or if they have moved away from their commitment). But it can be a wake-up call, as well, reminding us that promises made and promises kept are what leads to long-term joy and security. It can be helpful to take a few moments (or more) every once in awhile to remember when we came to Christ, and be reminded of the commitment we made– and the promises He has kept!

Read Jeremiah 31 for more about God’s “marriage” covenant with Israel

https://www.openbible.info/topics/the_bride_of_christ

Use the link above to read more about marriage in the context of Christ and the Church

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