Bullseye

It was my verse through seven years of infertility. It has been my verse through hard times of struggle, sadness, disappointment, and longing. It is my verse now in this season of anxiety and uncertainty and heartache. “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when dreams come true at last there is life and Joy” (Prov. 13:12 TLB).

Hope, on its own, implies delay; the word means to wait for, to be patient. Paul wrote, “Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait patiently for it” (Rom 8:24-25). But it’s more than waiting. It also means to expect. To borrow from Paul; who hopes for what she doesn’t think will ever happen? Hope is patient expectation rooted in trust. But there’s one more word connected to hope: pain. I’ll bet somebody is shaking their head. Waiting can be painful. Just ask me thirty-something years ago in that season of waiting for God to bless us with a baby. I trusted God, but my empty arms ached.

But this verse adds another layer: Hope deferred . . . This means hope dragged along. To the waiting, we add tension. One definition means “to draw the bow” and it reminded me of taking archery in high school. First I would seat the arrow in the bow and find my target. I fixed my sights on the bullseye, lifted the bow into firing position, and pulled the arrow back, stretching the bowstring taut. In the moment between setting the arrow and letting go, there was incredible tension in the string and in my arm. We had to wait until the instructor gave the firing order. If that order was delayed, my arm would start to ache and tremble. But I had to hold my position. If I dropped my bow, I might miss the call. If I lost my visual focus, I would lose the target. Hope deferred often causes pain and we may tremble in the waiting, but we do not lower our bow – or our shield of faith. We do not take our eyes off the target – the faithfulness of God.

This verse says we may even become heartsick – grieved and weary. We may feel like all we do is beg God to act. Believe me, I’m there. “But” – oh how I love the “buts” in the Bible – “when dreams come true at last there is life and Joy” You know what jumps out at me? “When” not “if.” When the arrow hits the target dead center. When God comes through. And I’m counting on God to come through. Beloved, take up your position, don’t drop your faith, and keep your eyes on the Lord. When. Not if.

Waiting on God

Psalm 106 is a “Salvation History Psalm” – a retelling of God rescuing His people from slavery in Egypt.  You know the story: God brought the Israelites out of bondage and led them to the edge of the Red Sea – impassable waters in front of them and their enemy close on their heels.  He made a way through the sea and when the last Israelite foot cleared the dry sea bed, He closed in the walls of water on Pharoah and His army.  The Scripture says, “Then [the Israelites] believed His promises and sang His praise” (v. 12).  Wouldn’t you?  If God had done a miraculous thing for you, wouldn’t you believe?  Wouldn’t you sing a chorus of, “You’re a good, good, Father!”?

But wait. The next verse says: “But they soon forgot what He had done and did not wait for His plan to unfold” (v. 13).  And they grumbled. On the heels of the Red Sea miracle. Remember the celebration in verse 12? Check out verses 24-25: “They did not believe His promise. They grumbled in their tents and did not obey the Lord.” Makes me want to shake my head.  They failed to trust God – the same God who had rescued them in dramatic fashion just a few weeks before.

But, let’s be honest here, don’t you and I do the same thing?  God works powerfully on our behalf and we celebrate and sing His praises and the next time we face a challenge, we worry.  We forget what God did and focus on the new hardship as if God used it all up on the first one.  Or maybe that’s just me. 

I wrote in the margin: “Lord, I want to always believe Your promises and sing Your praises while I am still waiting.”  I am there right now – waiting. And trusting.  And reminding myself of His powerful acts of the past, how he made a way where I couldn’t see a way. How He softened hard hearts. How he rescued someone I love. And I know He will do it again. So I’m gonna sing His praises now, during the crisis, not just after. 

Have you forgotten His goodness to you?  The God who was faithful yesterday will not be unfaithful today. He is the same good Father who carried you through the last storm – and He will not abandon you now.  Beloved, come sit here with me, and let’s praise the Lord while we wait.

The Peace of God in the Storms of Life

I need a word from the Lord this morning. I need to hear from the God who watches over little girls who are not where they should be and comforts broken-hearted Nanas. I wanted something like: “Don’t you worry, I’ll fix this.” But that’s not the word I got. The Spirit led me to Philippians 4:4-7: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

Rejoice. You’re kidding, right? No, He’s not. Rejoice. Not just when it’s all good and the sun is shining. Always. Now. When it hurts. When you don’t understand.

Be gentle. Actually, He’s not commanding an act on my part, He is reminding me to bear forth the fruit of His Spirit – gentleness – as I deal with the people and the situation. God knew when He gave me that word at the beginning of the year that I would need it right now.

Don’t be anxious. I need to tell that to my knotted-up stomach and my hammering heart. Literally.

Pray. I like the way The Message says it: “shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns.” And petition Him. “Go boldly to the throne of grace” (Heb 4:16 emphasis added). ASK. “ASK and keep on asking, SEEK and keep on seeking, KNOCK and keep on knocking” (from Mat 7:7).

With thanksgiving. Yes, thanksgiving. Because God has been trustworthy in the past. Because He loves her more than I ever could. Because He can be where I cannot. Because He is still writing this story.

And because He plants four words in the middle of this passage that we often overlook but speak volumes: “The Lord is near.”

Rejoice–because the Lord is near. Be gentle—because the Lord is near. Don’t be anxious–because the Lord is near. Pray with thankfulness–because the Lord is near. I can have the peace of God that is unfathomable–because the Lord is near. My heart and my mind – and my stomach – need God’s peace.

I didn’t exactly write this one for you today, I wrote it for me. But I’ll share it with you because it’s His Word for us all. And because, Beloved, through it all—the Lord is near.

Joy!

One day the Lord will make it all right again. One day wickedness and evil will be cast away and righteousness and holiness will rule. One day God will pave “the Way of Holiness” where only the redeemed will walk (Is 35:8, 9). One day blind eyes will see, deaf ears will hear, the lame will leap, and the mute will shout for Joy” (v. 5-6). One day “sorrow and sighing will flee away and gladness and Joy will overtake [us]” (v. 10). One day all of God’s creation will “burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for Joy” (v. 2).

Did you notice all the Joy? It is the theme of this Psalm. It is the promise of God for eternity “Everlasting Joy will crown [our] heads” (v. 10). Not a “good days” kind of happiness. Not warm fuzzies because you got flowers at work. Not even the feeling you had on your wedding day or the birth of your children. Because we know that bad days will still happen. Those pretty flowers will wither away soon. Your spouse will disappoint you, even make you angry, and your kid will have an epic meltdown. The kind of Joy Isaiah spoke of doesn’t come from circumstances, your family’s behavior, or a day at the beach. This Joy is the theme of heaven.

Heavenly Joy sounds wonderful. But we’re not there yet. What do we do while we’re still here on earth? “Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those with fearful hearts, ‘Be strong, do not fear; your God will come . . . He will come to save you’” (v. 3-4). We strengthen and steady ourselves and encourage one another. We keep our focus on the Lord and remember His faithfulness, power, and love. We soak up His Word. We bring our concerns to Him in prayer. And we come together to lift one another up with the hope of His return.

I’ve had to take my own advice this week. Some important things are out of my hands and I’ve had to constantly cry out to God, lay my anxiety down, and mentally redirect my thoughts. And I’ve had good sisters in the faith praying and encouraging me. Yes, everlasting Joy is our promise. But hope is our strength as we wait. I’ll tell you what I’ve told myself all week: God. Will. Not. Fail. You. Be encouraged. Beloved. Your God will come.

God Loves You

She looked at my t-shirt and snorted. “Yeah, I know, ‘God loves me.’ But He’s way up in heaven and I am down here on this miserable earth. He’s too far away to care about me or do anything for me.” She walked away before I could answer, but she left me thinking about what I would have said.

I would tell her about Psalm 107. The Psalmist starts by saying, “Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; His love endures forever” (v. 1). Then he sets up several examples: People with no place to go, wandering hungry and thirsty; but when “they cried out to the Lord, He delivered them” and brought them to a place to call home (vs. 4-9). Prisoners who were suffering for their sin and rejection of God, who cried out to the Lord, and “He brought them out of darkness and the deepest gloom and broke away their chains” (vs 10-16). People whose foolishness and rebellion brought them great affliction to the point of death, still, when they cried out to the Lord, “He sent for His Word and healed them; He rescued them from the grave (vs. 17-22).

Then there were the ones who were in grave danger in a storm at sea and “at their wits’ end” (can you relate?). You know the next line, when they cried out the Lord stilled the storm and hushed the waves and brought them safely to shore (vs. 23-32). He caused rivers and springs to appear in the desert, created a lush and fruitful land, and blessed and multiplied His people. And when they rebelled, He disciplined them. But then He “lifted the needy out of their affliction” – affliction they brought on themselves – and blessed them again (vs. 33-42).

With every situation, the Psalmist punctuates his story with the words: “Let them give thanks to the Lord for His unfailing love and His wonderful deeds for men” (vs. 8, 15, 21, and 31).  I wish I could tell her that God’s love is not a far-flung concept, but a reality that is seen and felt in the lives of those who trust and cry out to Him. I would share the Psalmist’s last words: “consider the great love of the Lord” (v. 43), and then I would tell her about Jesus. Maybe you are the one who doubts the love and care of God. Oh, Beloved, His eye is on you and He is as near as a whispered prayer.

I AM the Bread of Life

The Lord impressed on my heart today to study the “I AM” statements of Jesus in the gospel of John, and you’re coming along with me. For the next several weeks we’ll have “I AM Fridays.”

In chapter 6, Jesus had just performed miracles: healing the sick and feeding five thousand people from five loaves and two fish. (I’ve cut out at least a thousand construction paper loaves and fishes for kids’ Bible story time.) He was doing His best to withdraw from the crowds, even walking across a stormy lake, but they followed Him, demanding more – more miracles and more bread. The people insisted that Moses “gave them bread from heaven to eat” (Jn 6:31; Ex 16:4), speaking of the manna. But Jesus corrected them; Moses didn’t provide the bread, God did and now God was giving them something better than bread for a day. He said, “The bread of God is He who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world” (v. 33). All the people heard was “bread for life” and they ran with it. “Sir,” they said, “from now on give us this bread” (v. 34). (Reminds me of the woman at the well from chapter 4). What they missed was that the bread from God was not a loaf, but a person.

Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry . . .” (v. 35). He reiterated it by saying, “I am the bread that came down from heaven” (v. 41). And if they missed it He said it again, “I am the bread of life” (v. 48). Not the manna. Him. The bread the Israelites ate couldn’t keep them alive for more than a few days. Then He made a statement that shocked the people: “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread he will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world” (v. 51). Eat His flesh? Feed on Him? What in the world? And that’s the point. What Jesus offers is not of this world – it is from heaven.

Life, not bread, is the point of this passage. Jesus said, “Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life which the Son of Man will give you” (v. 27). Beloved do you want to eat for a day or for eternity? Feast on the Bread of Life and you’ll be satisfied forever.

The Rest of the Story

I’m living in the middle of a story that is causing me a lot of anxiety. I can’t see what is happening, I have no control over the particulars. I don’t know how this will end – or when. I am keeping an open prayer line to God and running to it often when panic wants to raise its ugly head. Somebody reading this can relate. I know a father with a demon-possessed son could too.  Please take a moment and read Mark 9:17-27 to get the scope of the story.

When we read accounts in the Bible today, as Paul Harvey said, we know “the rest of the story.”  But the people in the story didn’t.  Think about this from the father’s perspective – in real-time – as he stands before Jesus with pleading eyes, “If you can do anything, take pity on us and help us” (Mark 9:22).  Stay in the moment as we see Jesus turn to the child and speak with authority, “I command you to come out of him and never enter him again” (v. 25).  Watch as “the spirit shrieked, convulsed him violently and came out” (v. 26)” But wait, what did Jesus do?  The boy looks dead – like a corpse!  The father brought his boy to Jesus and Jesus made everything worse.

Now, freeze the scene right here and consider this: just as the father lived out his story in real-time, you and I are also living out our story without the advantage of a written script that tells us how it all ends.  All we know is, right now, at this moment, the anxiety is high.

“But Jesus . . .” these are the most precious words in the Bible to me.  “But Jesus took [the boy] by the hand and lifted him to his feet” v. 27).  Wonder of wonders, the boy is not dead – he is alive – and healed!  He runs into his father’s arms with a smile of triumph. His father bends to kiss his son’s head with a look of amazement and Joy.

May I remind you not to give up on Jesus?  He can see the end from the middle. That moment when all seems lost, just as it was for this father, might be the moment just before all is found. Bring your need to Jesus, give Him room to work, and don’t lose hope. Beloved, your story isn’t over yet.

Come to the Throne of Grace

David was in it up to his neck (Ps 69:1). He could find no foothold to regain his stability; he felt like he was sinking in deep waters (v. 2). Though he cried out for help, he couldn’t see God coming to his rescue. He said, “My eyes fail looking for my God” (v. 3). David spoke of his enemies and we see their hatred toward him. His woes are understandable. But wait. Look at verse 5: “You know my folly, O God; my guilt is not hidden from you.” David is the cause of his own despair. David has put himself in the miry depths. The text doesn’t reveal his actions, but he talks about being “scorned, disgraced, and shamed” (v. 19).

David is suffering the consequences of his actions. Can you relate? I know I can. Most of my struggles and difficulties have my own fingerprints all over them. And my tendency when I fail is to withdraw from God and assume that I must lay in the bed I made. I have a hard time bringing myself to ask for His help when I messed up.

But David had no such qualms. He wrote, “But I pray to you, O Lord, in the time of Your favor; in your great love, O God, answer me with Your sure salvation” (v. 13). He pleads: “Rescue me . . . Deliver me” (v. 14). “Answer me” (v. 16). “Redeem me” (v. 18). “Protect me” (v. 29). David is convinced of God’s love and salvation. He appeals to the “goodness of Your love” and “great mercy” (v. 16). He knows that “The Lord hears the needy and does not despise His captive people” (v. 33).  He could have also written Hebrews 4:6 – “Let us approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”

I don’t know what is keeping you from God today. But I know this beyond a shadow of a doubt: no matter what you have done, God’s mercy, grace, and love are yours for the asking. Because of Jesus, “nothing – not even your failures, sins and mistakes – will be able to separate [you] from the love of God” (Rom 8:38-39). Just ask Him, Beloved. Then receive it.  He loves to rescue His children.

Lean on God

My son called us early this morning fully dressed in his army uniform and hat with an anxious expression on his face. I remember that look well. I saw it on his first day of school. I saw it when he was a teenager and had to explain his actions to a police officer. I saw it when he faced things that were scary and unknown. That look of “I don’t know if I can do this.” He’s a grown man, but the boy was there on the screen, wiping away a tear from his eye. He starts the full run of basic combat training. It’s going to be hard. They will break him. The worst part, he said, is he won’t be allowed to call home for the first couple of weeks. Talking to his wife and daughter and mom has gotten him through. But we won’t have us for a while.

This will be the hardest thing he’s ever done, and he’s overwhelmed. Maybe you understand. You might be in the middle of the hardest thing you’ve ever faced right now and you don’t know how you will make it. I will tell you the same thing I told him. This is when you lean hard on God. When grief and sorrow overwhelm you, lean on God. When your body is racked with pain and fever, lean on God. When you walk out of your workplace with your possessions in a box, when the gas tank, the pantry, and your purse are empty, when the one who vowed to love you walks away, when you sit helplessly beside your loved one’s hospital bed . . . lean on God. When you head off to boot camp, lean on God. And when my son wipes away tears of anxiety 425 miles away, I’ve got to lean on God too.

What does that look like? A lot of prayer. A lot of time in the Word of God. And more prayer. And when the wave of anxiety or depression or anger or grief hits I pray more and read more and lean more. Because God is faithful. Every scenario I mentioned, I’ve lived through – or I should say God carried me through. He was with me in every one. He was my strength and my comfort. He was my hope and my peace. And now, I am entrusting my son into His hands. I reminded Troy of that before we signed off the call together. I’m reminding myself of that too. Beloved, whatever you face right now, lean hard on God. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart . . .” (Prov. 3:5). You’re in His hands – and there’s no better place to be.

Christ Is Your Life

In the first century, when a Christian met someone they thought might also be a believer, they would draw half of a fish symbol in the sand.  If the other person completed the symbol that was an affirmation, but if they stared with a puzzled look on their face they were not. When someone claims to be a Christian in this day, it’s not symbols we should look for, but fruit – the Fruit of the Holy Spirit. The Fruit of love, Joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control are evidence of Christ’s presence in us. We should look for compassion and holiness and devotion to the Lord.

And if I claim to be a Christian, I should look at myself and see if this is true of me. Not just outwardly, but inwardly. Because I can put on a good face, behave well, and be at church every Sunday –and be far from God. Billy Graham said, “ A Christian is more than a person who is living a system of ethics. A Christian is more than a person living a good moral life. A Christian is a person in whom Christ dwells.”

My granddaughter Joy (and her parents) live with us and it shows. Her scissors, books, and papers from “Honey School” are here on my desk. There are scraps on the floor where she was cutting paper last night. Two of her dresses are hanging up in here and a pair of her socks sits next to her backpack. There’s a basket filled with her books and art supplies behind me. Her cups and snacks fill two cabinets in the kitchen. Her blanket awaits naptime on my bed. The bathroom houses her bath toys and dirty clothes basket. She has a pair of her shoes in the cubby of my shoe rack. Her swingset sits in the backyard. The patio is covered with chalk art. Both of our vehicles have car seats and blankets. I won’t describe the chaos in the living room where she plays. Her pictures are on my phone, my laptop, my refrigerator, and my walls. She dwells in this house and the proof is everywhere. There’s not a single space where her presence is not felt. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Being a Christian is a total take-over. There should not be any part of our lives where Christ’s presence is not felt. He should be heard when we speak. He should be seen when we enter a room. His love should spill out of us. His grace should be our perfume. He should rule our minds and hearts. As Paul said, “Christ . . . is your life” (Col 3:4). Beloved, does He dwell in you?