Wednesday, May 01, 2013

The "Absence" of God: He is There!

Today I met with a couple of my students, and inevitably the conversation turned to God.  Being a seminary professor, that is certainly an occupational hazard!  What was not expected is how both conversations seemed to focus on God's "absence" during hard times.  We know (theologically, at least) that God never leaves us.  He is "omnipresent."  We also understand Jesus' words when he says, "Behold, I am with you always, even to the end of the age."  We take that to mean that God never really forsakes us.

Yet in our moments of trial, in times of despair, we tend to live a lot more in Psalm 22 ("My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?") than in Psalm 23 ("The Lord is my shepherd, I will not want.").  That little reality caused me to think of Psalm 139 and God's continuing and never failing presence.  Here is what the Psalm says (in part):



CSB Psalm 139:1-12 For the choir director. A Davidic psalm. "LORD, You have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I stand up; You understand my thoughts from far away. You observe my travels and my rest; You are aware of all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue, You know all about it, LORD. You have encircled me; You have placed Your hand on me. This extraordinary knowledge is beyond me. It is lofty; I am unable to reach it. Where can I go to escape Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence?  If I go up to heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, You are there. If I live at the eastern horizon or settle at the western limits, even there Your hand will lead me; Your right hand will hold on to me. If I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me, and the light around me will become night'-- even the darkness is not dark to You. The night shines like the day; darkness and light are alike to You."


Those of us who claim to be Christians (or even Jews and Muslims, for that matter) typically claim that God is everywhere always. That is, he is right with us even when we don’t think he is, and worse (perhaps), when we hope that he is not. He is there. I think Francis Schaeffer wrote a book entitled The God who is There. At any rate, Psalm 139 reminded me of all the times in my life when God was present (like he always is), even when I tried to overlook that reality.  I can't shake the reality that he is present.  He is here.  He is in this place.  I may overlook him, but there he is nonetheless. 

Sometimes I notice God there on the fringe of my experience (kind of hanging around like a brother who wants to be involved in everything you do).  Sometimes I respond with a sense of comfort (Oh good, he is there!). Other times I respond with fear (Oh no, did he see that!). Other times I am complacent (Oh, it’s just you, huh?). Still some times I am overwhelmed (Thank God you’re here!). I think of the Jews wandering in the wilderness and camped at Mt. Sinai. God showed up on the mountain, and they begged Moses to make it stop! “Don’t let God speak directly to us again, we can’t take it!” The acknowledgement of God’s presence frightened them, maybe it made them a bit uncomfortable. Maybe we respond to God in the same way.  We know he is there, but we wish he'd "tone it down" a bit.  We wish he wouldn't "make so much noise" in our lives.  We wish he'd kind of fade into the background just a bit.  We want God to be silent on occasions. 

When we reach that point, however, we find ourselves desperate nonetheless.  We try to turn on white noise to drown out the sound of God's voice or we paint with vivid colors in an effort to keep him from showing up in our portrait so clearly.  Yet as we try to silence him, we begin to fish for "God substitutes" to give us some kind of comfort.  We look for something (anything?) to give us the comfort of God's presence.  Annie Dillard addresses this problem when she says:


“It is difficult to undo our own damage, and to recall to our presence that which we have asked to leave. . . . We doused the burning bush and cannot rekindle it; we are lighting matches in vain under every green tree. . . . What have we been doing all these centuries but trying to call God back to the mountain, or, failing that, raise a peep out of anything that isn’t us? What is the difference between a cathedral and a physics lab? Are they not both saying: ‘Hello, is anyone there?’ We spy on whales and on interstellar radio objects; we starve ourselves and pray till we’re blue.” From Teaching a Stone to Talk by Annie Dillard 


Our fear of God’s omnipresence causes us to turn off a switch in our minds and souls that helps us to recognize this fascinating (and sometimes frightening) reality. We simply pretend he isn’t there. We even ignore his obvious appearances. We close our ears to his persistent whisper, his incessant voice, his ongoing speech to us.  We ignore the God of all, then we claim that we didn’t know he was there.  As A. W. Tozer notes: 


“. . . If God is present at every point in space, if we cannot go where he is not, cannot even conceive of a place where he is not, why then has not that Presence become the one universally celebrated fact of the world? The patriarch Jacob, ‘in waste howling wilderness,’ gave the answer to that question. He saw a vision of God and cried out in wonder. ‘Surely the Lord is in this place; and I knew it not.’ Jacob had never been for one small division of a moment outside of the circle of that all-pervading Presence. But he knew it not. That was his trouble, and it is ours. People do not know if God is here. What a difference it would make if they knew.” From The Pursuit of God by A. W. Tozer


We “know it not” because we don’t like the reality that God’s omnipresence makes us face. That reality is this—when we fail and sin, he is there. When we succeed, he is there. When we need him, he is there. When we think we don’t need him, he is there. Even when we don’t want him to be, he is there.  The Psalmist understood this when he said: "You know all about it, LORD. You have encircled me; You have placed Your hand on me. This extraordinary knowledge is beyond me. It is lofty; I am unable to reach it. Where can I go to escape Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence?"  We try our best to escape God, knowing all along that escape is simply impossible.

He is there.  Whether we like it or not, he is there.  He is not asleep, he has not grown bored, he has not diverted his attention.  He is in the midst of all of it--the beauty, the horror, the victory, the tragedy, the highs, the lows.  He is there with us.  He has not forsaken us, in fact, he CANNOT leave us.  He is there because he is God.

One of my pet peeves is to hear a preacher talking about Jesus’ cry (“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me”) from the cross and say something like, “At that point, God turned his back on Jesus because he became sin for us.” Think of the ramifications of that idea—God, the omnipresence One, turning his back on his only unique Son. God, the merciful, overlooking the sacrifice his own Son Jesus is offering. Can you imagine it? God, forsaking his Son! It sounds ridiculous because it is. God did not “turn his back on Jesus” (look in the text of the Gospels, it does not say any such thing). No, God was watching the brutal fact of it all with tears in his eyes. He did not forsake Jesus, and he does not forsake us. He endures when we pretend he is absent, but he is there. He loves Jesus, even when Jesus became sin for us, God lovingly watched his Son. God lovingly watches you as well. 

He is there, and he is not going away.

Scary, ain’t it?

Thanks for reading!  
 

Saturday, April 20, 2013

A Rough Week Touched by Hope

This week has been a bit of a blur. We've all been a bit overwhelmed by circumstances and news events, some of which are quite beyond our control. I haven't quite been sure how to put things into perspective lately. My heart hurts for friends in West (and for another friend in Tennessee), my mind swirls with a hundred possible scenarios to make that hurt go away, and yet I know that sometimes life just has pain. There was also tragedy of an evil kind in Boston, yet the end result of that one is a bit more positive.  The people who caused that horror have been captured or brought to justice. In the middle of these negative and sometimes overwhelming realities, I find that hope seems to come slowly like the sun at dawn. It peeks over the fog and the dark clouds of the night. It seems almost timid, not sure whether or not to make its presence known.  Eventually, the bright light pierces some part of the darkness. That little bit of light brightens the space, makes it seem lighter, more accessible.

Hope has been like that to me the past few days. By God's grace I see hope peeking into the dark times of life. The sun has not fully risen to its zenith, but there is a shaft of light shining into a dark place, making it livable and alive. In the midst of this darkness, I have taken solace in some music. One song that has encouraged me is "Take Me Away" by Sarah Kelly. It can be found on her album by the same name. Here are the lyrics:

no more weary teary eyes
just sunny skies
never have I felt so alone
my how I've grown
maybe that's the way it's supposed to be
as I'm walking down this street
maybe if it's just you and me
we'll never even miss a beat
maybe

Take me away
Take me away
All that I love is you, is you

captured by your love
I'm such a fool for you
the day you laid your hand upon my heart
tore my world apart
there's been so many times that I have prayed
to hear you speak my name
and though I've never seen you face to face
I search for you everyday

Take me away
Take me away
All that I love is you, is you

come what will and come what may
I know your love will remain
through the joy and through all the pain
I surrender and it makes me want to fly

Take me away
Take me away
All that I love is you, is you

I have this sense that God is there. He cares. I want to run away to him, to be in his lap for a few minutes. I want the ugliness of this fallen world to disappear, just for a minute. I want to experience the joy of life without any evil. I know that a day will come, a day unlike any other, a day when we can tread streets with no names and find what we are really looking for. That hope is what drives me today. I'm in a bit of sorrow over the recent events: bombings, explosions, friends facing hard times, friends in distress over sickness, etc.  I'm not depressed, really, just sad that the ugliness of this world causes the death of so many who are too young to die. Whether it is an 8 year old child or a 26 year old adult, death and tragedy all too often seems to invade our existence here in this fallen world.   

I guess we shouldn't be surprised, but then again neither should we despair.  God is beyond these tragedies, and he died for this fallen world.  His goal is redemption and renewal.  He is there. I turn to him, he is my hope. Without him, it just isn't worth the work, it isn't worth the effort, I'd just stay in bed.

Thanks to God for hope, thanks to God for his inexpressible gift! The sun will rise, life will continue, good will happen. Joy comes in the morning. I look forward to joy, and I pray for those who can't see it right now.  May they soon see the sun peeking out of the clouds of their tragedy to shine the light of God's great kindness into the darkness of their world. Father, soothe the heart burdened with grief, give comfort to those who have suffered loss, and show your great grace to those on the verge of giving up.  Lord, come quickly and make yourself known.  Bring the joy that only you can provide.  We need your light! 

Blessings, my friends, thank you for reading! 

Tuesday, April 09, 2013

In Remembrance of the Holocaust

Recently we remembered a sad page in the history of humanity when we celebrated a day of remembrance for the tragedy known as the Holocaust.  Perhaps like me, you recalled the liberation of the prison camp Dachau among others from the nightmare of Nazi oppression and thuggery.  It is not a thing of joy, but nonetheless I try annually to remind myself of the depth of depravity to which humanity can slip, even humanity that justifies its inhumanity and brutality by science. The Nazis showed the dark beastial side of humanity, the side we all have to some degree (although most of us will never admit it). The Nazis were more than thugs or brutes or even barbarians, they were humans that (in C. S. Lewis' words from The Abolition of Man) were humans without magnanimity, "men without chests." Here are Lewis' own words about such people:

"They are not distinguished from other men by any unusual skill in finding truth nor any virginal ardour to pursue her. Indeed, it would be strange if they were: a persevering devotion to truth, a nice of intellectual honour, cannot be long maintained without the aid of sentiment . . . It is not excess of thought but defect of fertile and generous emotion that marks them out. Their heads are no bigger than the ordinary: it is the atrophy of the chest beneath that makes them seem so." (C. S. Lewis, The Abolition of Man, New York, NY: HarperCollins Publishers, 2001, p. 25).

These Germans were not less human than the rest of us, they just acted as people without that emotion that makes our "better angels" show up instead of the "brutes" in each of us. They became the "elites" who judged other races in humanity as mere brutish nature to be studied. They were Social Darwinists who wanted to keep their race pure, and who ultimately participated in that which Lewis deems "the abolition of man." They were people like us. In many ways we hate to admit, they were us. As one survivor records the event of his liberation:

"The full record of the pseudo-medical experimentations came to light. Prisoners had been used as laboratory animals, without the humane restrictions placed on vivisection. Hannah Arendt suggested that `the camp was itself a vast laboratory in which the Nazis proved that there is no limit to human depravity.' For it was remembered that these experiments were not planned or conducted by identifiable psychopaths. They were performed or supervised by professional scientists, trained in what had been once considered peerless universities and medical schools. Reverend Franklin Littell called them `technically competent barbarians.' Indeed the procedures had the full approval and cooperation of Berlin's Institute of Hygiene." (Sachar, Abram L. The Redemption of the Unwanted. New York: St. Martin's/Marek, 1983, pp. 8-10)

Let us remember with sadness the number of innocents lost and the reality of our own potentially brutish nature. Let us not forget that without grace, we are all irredeemably lost. Could Dachau or Auschwitz happen again? Only if humans let it, only if we deny once again our own humanity and treat our fellow humans as mere animals or brutes. Yes, it can happen again. Let's pray that it doesn't. Let's make sure it doesn't.

This topic is heavy and sad. I don't apologize for that, but I do want to put the weight down now.

Thanks for reading.

Saturday, March 30, 2013

Easter: What Exactly Did We Expect?

The week before Easter is commonly called "Holy Week" by Christians. During this week we celebrate (is that the right word?) the last week of Jesus' life on earth. People will make pilgrimages to Israel and retrace Jesus' final steps, they will pause at the "rock of agony" and cry where Jesus cried out to God in Gethsemane, they will go to the pit where Jesus was interrogated, they will pause where Jesus supposedly stumbled under the load of his cross, they will visit and contemplate Golgotha, they will visit the empty tomb, and they will weep and cry and mourn.

Rightfully so . . . this was THE WEEK for which Jesus lived his entire human life, and it was a rough one for him. On Sunday before his crucifixion he entered Jerusalem with cheers ringing in his ears. The (usually fickle) populace embraced him for all the great miracles he performed, and they hailed his coming as though a conquering warrior had entered the city. Like paparazzi following a Hollywood star, they trailed behind this carpenter from Nazareth and looked for ways to become part of his entourage or to at least get a "piece of the action" as Jesus came to town.

Some of these same folks will yell "Crucify him!" in just a few days, by the way.

When Jesus offered them something tangible to grab, they wanted to be a team player, they wanted the fishes and loaves, the healings, the wonders, the mighty signs.

How soon their tune would change . . . how quickly they would turn on the one who was innocent of any sin except the failure to live up to THEIR expectations.

How like them we are today . . .

When things are going our way, we look to heaven and sing God's praises. We celebrate and sing and run to join the band as God rides triumphantly over all our "enemies." But as soon as Jesus fails to live up to OUR expectations, what do we do?

I know the spiritual answer--"though he slay me yet I will praise him."

Do we really? Will we? Will I?

I'm struck with how Jesus routinely challenged the popular expectations of the crowds who showed up hoping for another demonstration of heavenly power and flash. In John 12, just after the people have celebrated his "triumphal entry," Jesus tells them that the way to jump on his bandwagon is for his followers to hate their lives in this world. Just think how that must have sounded to the celebrants rejoicing in the coming of their conquering hero!

"You want to be a part of my movement, of my thing?" Jesus asks, "Then you will have to regard your life in this world as a dead man would. You have to become the least, the slave, the dead one, in order to get in on my movement."

Come and die.

What an invitation!

Of course, Jesus knew that in just six days he would literally fulfill that invitation. The innocent would die for the unquestionably guilty . . . and he would die horribly.

I can just imagine how this conversation must have put a damper on the celebration in Jerusalem. Jesus took a party and turned it into a wake. The next thing we know he is engaged in theological discussions with the people and with the Jewish leaders. He created a controversy that caused folks to take sides. All he had to do was accept the adulation and promise to "win the war that must be won," but Jesus decided to go against expectations again. He decided to allow God to get the glory through humility and death.

Hasn't this happened to us? Just when we think we have God's agenda all spelled out like it ought to be, He throws us a curve ball that reminds us we aren't in charge! We have a hard time "boxing Jesus" into a neat package.

What's the point then? The point is that we should reverse the procedure. Instead of putting expectations on God, we should look for HIS expectations for us. What has He required of us? What does He want? How should we respond to His voice?

The week of Easter we celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus. In the process maybe we should participate in a funeral of our own. Maybe we should let die our selfish expectations about how God "ought" to act towards us. Bury them, and let God resurrect them in His image.

As we contemplate the price of our salvation, let us willingly become slaves to the one who has paid such a price to purchase our freedom. Like Jesus, let our prayer be "Father glorify your name." Remember, if a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it will yield much fruit. It is, however, pretty useless in a bag with other seeds. Let's allow God to plant us where he wants so that our service can produce fruit for his glory. Let's follow our crucified Lord by living cruciform lives.

What would the world look like if we did?

I'd really like to find out!

Thanks for reading!

Sunday, March 17, 2013

The Ministry of Staying Put

Hello all:

Today I read the entry for March 17 in my old copy of Streams in the Desert and marveled at the message (especially the poem) contained there.  I've been thinking a lot lately about the ministry of "staying put" and patiently waiting on the Lord's direction.  I remember living in Waco, TX when I encountered a bit of trouble and seriously considered leaving the church I attended at the time.  As my wife and I prayed about our situation, I kept returning to Psalm 37.  Verse 3 of that Psalm says, "Trust in the LORD and do good; Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness."  As I read this Psalm from David, I was reminded that sometimes the best thing I can do is simply wait before the Lord. I have learned that sometimes I simply need to "be still, and know that God is Lord."   

We are often tempted to take what I call an "American" approach to ministry:   We "work" our way up the ladder and progress from a "smaller" ministry to a "larger" one.  We try sometimes to "help" God out by making our own opportunities instead of working diligently at the work God has placed in front of us.  I'm not saying it is wrong to leave one work from another, I am simply stating that sometimes we need to "stay put" until we know God wants us to move to the next thing.  We are full of anxiety, and we want to "make our mark."  

Sometimes, however, that requires patience and humble waiting on marching orders from God.  Others may move on to "bigger" and "better" things, but God sees fit to keep us in the "small" thing or in the "unknown" ministry.  It is a hard word, but one that we need to hear.  Sometimes the ministry in front of us, the ministry of "today" is best for the moment.  Being faithful in the little things sows seeds for faithfulness in the larger endeavors.  The goal is to find where God wants you, then stay there until he releases you to a new opportunity.  Remain faithful, and let God lead.

If you are in this "waiting period" at the moment, I want to share the March 17 devotional with you.    I hope it is a blessing to you. It is entitled "Patience in the Routine." 


"Remain there until I tell you."  (Matthew 2:13)
"I'll stay where You've put me;
I will, dear Lord, Though I wanted so badly to go;
I was eager to march with the 'rank and file,'
Yes, I wanted to lead them, You know.
I planned to keep step to the music loud,
To cheer when the banner unfurled,
To stand in the midst of the fight straight and proud,
But I'll stay where You've put me.
 
"I'll stay where You've put me; I'll work, dear Lord,
Though the field be narrow and small,
And the ground be fallow, and the stones lie thick,
And there seems to be no life at all.
The field is Thine own, only give me the seed,
I'll sow it with never a fear;
I'll till the dry soil while I wait for the rain,
And rejoice when the green blades appear;
I'll work where You've put me.
 
"I'll stay where You've put me; I will, dear Lord;
I'll bear the day's burden and heat,
Always trusting Thee fully; when even has come
I'll lay heavy sheaves at Thy feet.
And then, when my earth work is ended and done,
In the light of eternity's glow,
Life's record all closed, I surely shall find
It was better to stay than to go;
I'll stay where You've put me."
 
Oh restless heart, that beat against your prison bars of circumstances, yearning for a wider sphere of usefulness, leave God to order all your days. Patience and trust, in the dullness of the routine of life, will be the best preparation for a courageous bearing of the tug and strain of the larger opportunity which God may some time send you.
 Thanks for reading!  

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Notes from a Mission Trip in 1993

I was reading one of my old journals today, and I came across an entry for July 30, 1993 (almost 20 years ago).  I was on the way to Siberia with a team from Athletes in Action.  We were going to Ulan Ude and Irkutsk to support a church plant by doing evangelism and discipleship programs in a youth camp using American sports as a tool to share God's Word.  I miss Russia, to be honest, and I want you to know that this particular trip forever changed my view of the call to evangelize or the call to missions.  At any rate, I wanted to share the words from that journal entry; the words of a single 33 year old PhD candidate who was on the adventure of a life time!  This is what I wrote on that day:

Russia--Inconvenience really seems to be the name of the game here.  After a rough start Wednesday, KLM airlines was delayed, and we had to reroute to Frankfurt from Amsterdam in order to catch a Lufthansa flight to Moscow.  As a result we missed our Aeroflot flight to Ulan Ude (Bill and Steve are even now negotiating a new flight schedule for the team), but nonetheless we are finally here in Moscow!

We spent a rough first night in Russia.  Some of our team ended up in a room next to a very rowdy party and got little sleep.  We spent the night in a "hotel" near Moscow--actually "hotel" may be too nice of a word.  It was really more like spending the night in an old cabin left for several years in disrepair.  Few of the toilets had seats, and none of them had toilet paper!  The showers were nothing but a bare pipe out of the wall pouring out cold water in a steady, wakening stream of "refreshing" Russian water!  We found it a bit harder to wash than we expected, but we found a way.

One of our Russian contacts (Sasha) really came through for us!  He met us at the airport like a knight in shining armor.  He had a great attitude, especially considering the fact that he had been at the airport since 3:00 p.m. and our flight did not arrive until almost midnight.  He arranged a better place for us to stay as well as making the necessary arrangements for our flight to Siberia. 

Some interesting encounters and conversations have come our way on this trip!  I got to talk briefly to a Saudi student on the KLM flight from Houston.  We've had the privilege of sharing the story of Jesus in several major airports (e.g., Houston, Amsterdam, Frankfurt).  On the Lufthansa flight we were privileged to meet a young woman named Olga, a Russian living in Dublin.  Her hometown is Irkutsk, and she will actually be there when we are doing our camps.  She was thrilled when we told her our plans for the youth camp and the support of the church plant there. 

We also met some young ladies from Ireland.  They were striking women who seemed determined to drain the marrow out of life.  The shared stories of their home and sang beautiful songs about Ireland while accompanied by a flute.  The old Irish folk songs were matched by our singing, although instead of folk songs we regaled them with TV theme songs and commercial jingles (yeah, we actually did that!).  The flight attendants came back and "shushed" us with the reminder that some folks were actually trying to sleep!  What fun on Lufthansa! 

It is now morning, and I am waiting for good news about our trip to Ulan Ude.  The Lord has blessed us with endurance and encouragement this far, and we have found ourselves driven to pray for and to love the Russian people.  How I long to get to Siberia!  A 13 year dream soon to come true!

I'm beginning to realize that many of us in the West are spoiled and selfish.  We are fools to think that God's light of salvation will come to any land without our commitment to go.  Unless we commit our lives to be witnesses, to bear the story of grace to them, how can we expect them to hear?  Is it inconvenient?  Yes!  But it is worth it!  Jesus died for us, how can we offer him less than our very lives?  How can we give him less than he gave us?

How can I begin to compare the "comforts" of this life with the beauty of Jesus and his kingdom?  How can I deny ANY person that beauty?

Lord, forgive us for our selfishness.  Teach us to swallow our pride and to be willing to face any inconvenience to advance the message of your salvation.  Use us to advance your kingdom against the kingdom of our enemy Satan.  May this trip be used to bring many souls to a knowledge of God through Christ!  May many souls be snatched out of the dragon's mouth and out of the fire in the next few weeks.  Help us, Lord, to stand firm on your Word and to set our faces like flint to go to Siberia!  Amen.

There you have it.  The ramblings of a so-called missionary on his first major trip!  I will tell you that the trip succeeded beyond our expectations, and we were blessed to have the privilege of leading many to salvation by God's grace and the help of his Spirit. Of course, those are stories for another day.  For now, let me thank you for your patience, dear reader, and wish you blessings!

Thanks for reading!  

Thursday, February 14, 2013

God's Inescapable Stare: Some Musings on a Song from Kansas

I posted this note originally about 5 years ago, but reading through my journal tonight (in celebration of my birthday) I found this note especially poignant.  I loved the music of Kansas as a teenager, and I have several of their albums on vinyl (records, for those old enough to remember).  Listening to their music reminds me of my youth and my "quests" for truth and purpose in life.  This song had a special influence on me, but I'll let you read to see why.  So, without any further ado, here it is for your perusal!

For those of you too young to remember the great classic rock group Kansas, let me just say that their music defined my generation during our high school years as much as any 70s to 80s rock band could. Their songs were majestic in scope and tenor, they were classic tales sung to the tune of an amazing mixture of solid rock and roll, church organs, and violins. In some ways they were the U2 of my generation. Here is a song that I love from a 1979 album. Kerry Livgren wrote the song. It is entitled "A Glimpse of Home." Here are the lyrics:

When I was very young so many songs were sung
So much wasted time on an uphill climb
But you where always there, a feeling in the air
There was nothing to fear you were so near
Now you are here once again
As I stand in your presence
I can feel the quiet patience of your gaze
Like an old superstition
You are haunting all my dreams and waking days

(Chorus)
All my life I knew you were waiting, revelation anticipating
All is well, the search is over, let the truth be known
Let it be shown (give me a glimpse of home)

There's no resisting you among the chosen few
It's hard to be sure, it's hard to endure
And when I hear your voice
I know I have the choice
To pursue an ideal, something so real
Now I've got nothing to lose
As I see your reflection
All the answers I desire become so clear
Like a page that is turning
I can look into the future without fear

(Chorus)

You're in my rock and roll, you're in my very soul
Though it's heavy to bear, it's a feeling so rare
And it's a mystery, the way it's meant to be
Can we ever know, we're moving so slow
There ain't enough time in the world
As I reach up the ladder
There is something ever higher to perceive
Like a fire that is burning
In my heart I know I surely must believe

(Chorus)

As a young Christian looking for a music to define his spiritual journey, this song became a kind of "Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" milestone for me. I can't be sure, but when I heard the lyrics above, I had the distinct impression that Livgren was talking about God/Jesus.

You see, though raised in a good Baptist home and church, I had in my youth become something of a doubter and skeptic. I tried to find reasons to ignore or overlook God in many ways around me, and I often came up with my own explanations as to why things happened as they did.

Yet even in my most skeptical moments, Jesus was there, "like an old superstition," haunting my days and my dreams.

I couldn't shake it. I couldn't shake him.

His patience and merciful stare seemed to follow me on matter where I went. His benevolent hand of mercy shielded me, protected me, even promoted me without my request.

He was there, a "revelation anticipating" my gaze, my faith.

One day I surrendered. Realizing that I was surrounded and enveloped by God, I gave in. I said, "Enough! I can't shake you, so I'll join you."

He kindly let me in. He also let me think it was my idea (grin).

This song defined that moment for me--the moment when I came face-to-face with God. He didn't blink. He opened his arms. He hugged me. He accepted me. He wanted me. He took me as I was.

His love has overwhelmed me ever since.

My search is over, I have found home. It is in the loving gaze of Jesus.

I love this song. Thank God for music!

Thanks for reading!

Sunday, February 03, 2013

God is Faithful (even in hard times)

1 Thess 5:23-25

23 Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be preserved complete, without blame at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. 24 Faithful is He who calls you, and He also will bring it to pass.
25 Brethren, pray for us. NASU

Job 5:17-27

17 "Behold, how happy is the man whom God reproves,
So do not despise the discipline of the Almighty.
18 "For He inflicts pain, and gives relief;
He wounds, and His hands also heal.
19 " From six troubles He will deliver you,
Even in seven evil will not touch you. . .
27 "Behold this; we have investigated it, and so it is.
Hear it, and know for yourself." NASU

Faithful--God is faithful to finish what he starts.

Faithful--God is faithful to stand with us in our hour of desperation.

Faithful--God will not fail, he will not give up.

Faithful--if God has called us, he will complete that calling in us. He finishes what he starts (see Isaiah 66:9).

Think of Adam & Eve, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Gideon, Samson, Deborah, Barak, David, Solomon, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, Habakkuk, Jonah, Amos, Hosea, the apostles, James, John, Peter, and Paul.

Think of poor young Timothy--his spiritual "father" Paul just died--he had his head removed by the Romans for preaching Christ. And there sits Timothy. He arrived at the prison, the final home of Paul, but Timothy arrived just a bit too late. "Come before winter" Paul requested. Timothy hurried to Rome with parchments and supplies, only he arrived too late. Paul was dead.

We might be tempted to ask Timothy--"Is God really faithful? Does God finish what he starts?"

Tear stained eyes look up at us. A smile shows on a face that was just a moment ago contorted with grief.

"Is God faithful?" Timothy responds with an incredulous grin. He looks at us like we had three heads. "Of course God is faithful!" the disciple of Paul exclaims.

But, we might ask, you just lost your friend, your spiritual father. He is dead, gone, his life ingloriously snuffed out by the mad man Nero. Where is God's faithfulness in all of that?

Remember, dear reader, that God's constant faithfulness is not a guarantee against harm or even hard times. Paul knew that, and he knew the risks. But Paul was confident that God would empower him for the task at hand. He even wrote to dear Timothy--"If we are faithless, God is faithful" (2 Timothy 2:13).

Why is God faithful? Paul tells us it is because God cannot deny himself! God is always true to his own character.

Paul also reminded his disciple that hard times would come since "those who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will be persecuted" (2 Timothy 3:2). In the midst of the storm, God is unable to deny his own essential nature of covenant love, of covenant fidelity, of faithfulness.

If God suddenly became unfaithful, the universe would literally fly apart at the seams, the world would cease spinning, the moon would crash into the ocean, life would cease, the sun would be snuffed out, the universe would cease its almost infinite growth. God can no more be unfaithful than a human can sprout wings or develop gills. God IS faithful because he is God! God does not change!

So, friend, what trial of darkness are we experiencing? Is it one of our own making, the result of mistakes and missteps in life? Is it an accident, simply the ebb and flow of life? Is it the result of righteousness?

I'll tell you a secret--it doesn't matter where the trial originated--God is faithful still! Romans 8:28 is still in effect. God has not ceased to be God!

Have we blown it? Hundreds of times no doubt! We need to make things right and remember--God works all things together for good.

Have you been treated badly for some good thing you've done? Be glad and remember that all things work together for good. Your present circumstances do not hinder God's faithfulness. God does not falter because your situation is too BIG.

GOD IS FAITHFUL!

For God to be unfaithful, he would have to deny himself. And that, dear friend, will never happen.

Thank you, God, for your steady commitment to us. Thank you for being constant and unmoving in your love for us. Thank you for your kindness that leads us to repent and for your faithfulness that calls us to faithful obedience. Thank you for the life and example of Jesus. Teach us to live as he lived.  Teach us to walk in your faithfulness.

Thank you, dear reader, for reading!

Saturday, January 26, 2013

A Word of Encouragement in Hard Times

Several years ago I was struggling with some hard circumstances that had arisen in my life. Things were not going as I had planned, and I felt that God had all but abandoned me. In the midst of a particularly difficult emotional struggle, I had a dream one night. In this dream, a person that I thought was Jesus came to me and offered words of comfort. When I awoke, I wrote down the words as I remembered them. I hope these words may provide some encouragement for someone else who is struggling.  This is what I remember he said:

My child, if you will die, I will produce the harvest. Do not think that I have forsaken you, nor believe that I am incapable.

I am God.

How can you worship that which is limited and unnecessary? How can you submit yourself to that which is not divine? What need have you for a ministry? What need have you for fame or fortune? When will you learn to be content with me?

How long must I wait to see my dreams fulfilled in you?

I long to hold you in my arms of love, to heal the scars of bitterness, anger, and rejectionn that have trekked across your heart. I have carried your sorrow, my child.

I died and live for you.

I love you.

My child, do not surrender the grace of God for the dream of so-called better things in the future. There is no better thing for you than to be in my presence, in my love, in my grace.

How do you think you arrived where you are today?

I brought you to this place. I provided what you need. I love you.

Stand and watch the things I will do for you.

You have often desired the future things now, as though you desired to run before you knew how to walk. Remember, the vision will come and I am not slow regarding my promises. Wait for the fulfillment of the promise, it will not delay.

Will my word return empty? Will it not accomplish what I sent it to do? Is my arm short that I cannot save?

You desire so many things, but only one thing counts, only one thing really matters--your relationship with me.

Your present problems will create growth, not destruction. Your present fire will prove your faith, not harm it. Your situation may seem futile and foolish now, but when the time will come, you will see what I have promised.

Stand firm in the promise I have given. Follow the course I lay out for you.

I have not and will not forsake you. Hold fast to my promise, to my word.

I love you. Grab onto that and let your faith grow.

These words were a blanket of encouragement to me in my time of great pain. I don't think of them as "inspired" like Scripture, but they certainly provided me a sense of comfort. They may have originated in my overactive imagination, but I hope they will help someone else.

Maybe some of you are going through a crisis or a problem that seems to have no solution. Let me say that God is indeed faithful. He does fulfill what he says he will do. God finishes what he starts.  He is true to his word. He has proven it to me in more ways than I can say.

He is good. He loves you. He is with you in your fire.

Hang in there! You are going to make it!

Thanks for reading!

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Just Another Day in Paradise: Lessons from a Blind Beggar

Hey y'all:

I was reading some old posts the other day, and this one really struck me. It is something I wrote on the blind beggar who called out for Jesus' attention by crying "Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!"  I remember thinking as I wrote it, "How odd the various reactions to the presence of Jesus and the outcry of the beggar?"  At any rate, here it is:
“Lord Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me.”

The Jesus Prayer, a short, enigmatic statement of faith and repentance. Contained in this short phrase are some of the most powerful truths needed to heal the human condition.

One version of it is found in Luke 18:35-43, the story about the healing of a blind beggar. The blind beggar sat by the road. There was nothing new here. He had done this many times in his interminable suffering. He sat there. He begged. Another day in paradise.

Imagine his situation. Close your eyes for a moment and think of how he experienced life. Devoid of sight, he lived in a constant sense of darkness. Of course, his other senses were sharp, he could hear and smell and taste. But he could not see.

Because he could not see, he could not hold his child’s face and admire the nose or the eyes that obviously are a family trait. He could not admire his wife’s beauty or the glory of her in splendid dress. He could not get around like the rest of us. He had to rely on the kindness of others to avoid stumbling.  He could enjoy the warmth of the sun but not its indescribable glory.  He could experience the cool of the evening but not bask in the glow of the full moon in all its wonder.  He could smell the wonderful food cooking around him, but he was hindered from feasting on the hues and colors of the food in splendid array.  He could hear the words of a text, but he could not see them or enjoy the calligraphy that produced them.  His blindness cut him off from the simple pleasures many take for granted. 

Perhaps he chose this stretch of the road because the people in that area were especially generous. He could get a lot of money or other goods begging there. Maybe he knew from experience that this was a busy thoroughfare. Whatever the reason, he hauled himself as best he could to the spot he had occupied so often. He sat. He begged. Another day in paradise.

Yet somehow today promised to be different. He couldn't quite explain it. There was something in the air, something that did not smell or taste or sound the same as all the other days. The humidity was the same, so it wasn’t a change in weather. He was the same blind person he had always been, so it was not a physical change in his situation. Something was different, however, but just what it was remained a mystery.

Then, he heard a sound of a crowd. Was there a parade today about which he was unaware? This crowd did not sound like a typical parade. Folks were talking about a great teacher, a person who told the most amazing stories, stories of an encounter with a rich man and of an encounter with the Pharisees. This person the crowd discussed was evidently no ordinary man. He was different. He was the difference in the blind beggar’s day.

The blind man inquired, “What’s going on? Who is coming?” One of the people told him, “Jesus of Nazareth is headed this way.”

He thought about it. “Jesus of Nazareth,” he mumbled. “I wonder if that is the same fellow who reportedly healed ten lepers the other day. If so, surely he can lift my blindness! Surely he can set me free.”

His excitement grew. Nervously he formulated a plan. He stood up and cried out loud, “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!” Some of the folks in the crowd shushed him and angrily asked him to be quiet. In response, the blind man simply got louder, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

The noise got Jesus’ attention. Stopping, Jesus asked the man what he wanted. The request from the man was simple, “Please give me my sight.” Jesus granted the request and told the man, “Your faith has saved you and made you well.” 

The crowd (the same ones who rebuked the blind man earlier) now rejoiced at the notable (or should that be “visible”?) miracle that happened here. They gave glory to God for the man’s healing.  Another day in paradise.
Isn’t that just like us? When someone cries the loudest for God’s mercy, don’t we sometimes wish that they would just be quiet? It is embarrassing to hear all that crying and begging. Can’t you just do that in private? 

Or maybe like the blind man you’ve become so desperate that you simply don’t care anymore. “Jesus, have mercy on me!” is your rallying cry, and you’re going to shout it until you get a response.

There is good news here. Jesus stopped. He listened. He healed and saved. The crowd rejoiced.

Just another day in paradise.
Thanks for reading!

Monday, December 24, 2012

Annual Christmas Post--The Mystery of Christmas

Hey y'all:

Since I started this blog about 8 years ago, I have posted a piece I wrote around Christmas 2003. It kind of sums up for me what is the "Mystery of Christmas" as I meditated on the Incarnation and its implications for humanity (and perhaps for God as well!). The very idea of God becoming "one of us among us" (Immanuel) still fascinates and overwhelms me. God, the creator of all things, entered his own creation so as to renew and redeem us (and, ultimately, all of creation as well). God, the Creator of all things, became flesh so that he might be the perfect sacrifice for our sins. The God who never knew death would die for us. The God who never knew sin would become sin for us. What amazing love! Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift! As you celebrate the first advent of our Lord Jesus Christ, I hope you enjoy this rerun. Feel free to make comments if you'd like.

A little over 2000 years ago, a tiny child was born in some pretty bleak conditions. Oh, he wasn’t the only one born in a bad state. In fact, in some ways, he was one of the lucky ones. He and his mother actually survived childbirth and thrived. Still, this story is unique and amazing on several levels.

First, this child would literally change the way time is reckoned in the world. His life and abilities would so impress generations of others that a brand new movement would be created, one that would radically change the very face of the earth (sometimes for good, sometimes for bad). His name would become recognized among the names of the greatest of humans, yet he never forgot his humble beginnings or lost a sense of who he was.

The second thing about this child is tied to the first in that this baby, this helpless lad full of spittle and mush, was born as the very Son of God. When Mary held his little head to her breast, he drank human milk. Yet, he was (and is) the God of the universe. Can you picture this simply ridiculous, yet somehow poetic scene? God, who calls the stars by name, pressed to the human breast for sustenance. Humble, yet almighty, is how most folks would no doubt recall this child.

A little over 2000 years ago, God proposed that the only remedy for the human condition of sin would be if he humbled himself, stepped out of eternity and into human flesh, and suckled at Mary’s breast in preparation for the greatest, most impressive conversion of all. God, in Mary’s arms, toddling around Joseph’s shop, learning to talk, learning to walk, tasting and touching things with human hands! As the Psalmist says in Psalm 139, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for us, we cannot contain it!”

God knew that the only way to redeem us was if he did it himself. Haven’t you ever had that thought? You know, the one where you say, “If I want something done right, I’ll just have to do it myself?” Imagine God having that thought about bringing us to proper relationship with him. Imagine again that the only way he knew he could do that is if he came to earth as a baby. Think of it—-how vulnerable the almighty God was at that moment, how paradoxical that the God of all creation had to learn to walk! And why did he put himself in this situation? Out of his divine sense of justice and righteousness, out of his inexpressible love for each of us he acted in this manner.

In a sense, he became insane that we may be sane. He became flesh so that we might walk in the Spirit. He became sin that we might be righteous. He became poor so that we might be rich. He who had the reputation of Creator became a humble servant with no reputation. He became a toddling, dribbling, helpless babe so that we could become mature humans in the image of the almighty Son of God. What wondrous love! What humility and service! How then can anything he asks of us be too difficult?

Lord, in this Christmas season, remind me of your sacrifice and love so that I might be a light shining in darkness to others. Teach me to live a life of humble service like your Son did on my behalf so many years ago. As I celebrate the babe in the manger, may the glory he revealed in his life shine through me towards others that they may know God. May the grace of God and the peace of Christ rule in my family and my life.

Thanks for reading!

Merry Christmas!

Saturday, December 22, 2012

No Reputation--A Christmas Meditation and Plea

Philippians 2:5-9 NASU
"Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross."
This passage may not usually be associated with Christmas, but for some reason that is how it comes to me this year. Look closely at the passage above, then read the quote from The Jesus Style by Gayle D. Erwin below.

“Christ Jesus . . . made himself nothing.

“He made himself nothing, he emptied himself—-the great kenosis. He made himself no reputation, no image.

“I can recall my father shaking his head and repeating over and over to himself, ‘If only I knew what this meant. There is something powerful here. If I only understood it.’ Maybe that is why this Scripture has glued itself to my mind and equally disturbs me. Reputation is so important to me. I want to be seen with the right people, remembered in the right light, advertised with my name spelled right, live in the right neighborhood, drive the right kind of car, wear the right kind of clothing. But Jesus made himself of no reputation.”
Christmas in America means lots of things to lots of different people.

For some it becomes a political event that pits “the true meaning of Christmas” against the bias of some against religion. For others Christmas is just another time to visit families and to pretend to get along with each other. For others Christmas is a season that involves incredible profits (or expenses) and lots of activities. This year some may see Christmas as a bleak season filled with bad economic news and the dread of a new year. For still others Christmas is simply a winter break, a time to regroup for a new year.

I know I’ve left a large group out! There are those who see Christmas as the celebration of the birth of the world’s Savior. But I want to twist the prism a bit and look at Christmas from a different angle.

Almost all of the views above look at Christmas from the perspective of what humans gain from the season. I wonder if we can look at the season as something we can offer to others, a gift of sorts. I wonder, can we make a gift of Christmas? Can we this year find a way to give the "spirit" of Christmas to those around us?

Hear me out . . .

This passage from Philippians reminds me that Christmas for Jesus wasn’t about what he would gain. In fact, he lost just about everything! He left the comfort of his Father’s place, he became a tottering, dribbling little baby, he had to learn to talk, to walk, to eat, he left his riches behind for the poverty of a manger, and ultimately he would even become sin and even die, two things he had never experienced. As Paul says, he made himself of no reputation.

Imagine what Christmas would be like this year if those of us who follow Jesus would do as Paul admonishes here and have this approach to the season. Imagine if we actually attempted to have the same attitude towards others that Jesus has towards us! What would Christmas look like if we didn’t care about what we got out of it but became more concerned about what we could give to others? How would our world change if we laid down our lives . . . our reputations . . . our desires in order to bless others this Christmas? What if we even went further and did it anonymously, with no expectation of reward or recognition?

Ronald Reagan is credited with the saying “There is no telling what you can accomplish if you don’t care who gets the credit.” We don’t like that approach though, do we? We kick against it! I mean, we deserve to be recognized, don’t we?

You came up with the idea that made the company money, shouldn’t you be rewarded? Maybe you found a problem and fixed it, and that fix saved someone’s job. Shouldn’t you be shown gratitude? Maybe you did some kindness for someone you knew couldn’t pay you back, shouldn’t you get credit for that? You gave that money to charity, shouldn't someone say "thank you"? You gave of your time to that charitable organization, shouldn't there be some "benefit" in it for you?

Don’t we all think that we should be center stage, center of the world, the most important person in the world? How many times have you heard “I quit going to that church because MY needs weren’t being met”?

No reputation.

Let that sink in.

NO Reputation!

No fame, no credit, no automatic acceptance, no celebrities, and no place where who you know or what you know earns you admittance or recognition.

Jesus made himself of no reputation. The very God of the universe became nobody. He emptied himself, he became a servant. As Isaiah said, he was not handsome or attractive in such a way as to draw attention to himself. He lived to give attention only to God. He had "no reputation."

Ouch!

We love our awards, the acceptance of others, the glamor of being “somebody,” or the wonderful happiness of fame, don’t we? We like to be recognized, remembered, acknowledged, accepted, and celebrated.

“Don’t neglect me” is the motto of many in our society and our churches.

The motto of Christ and his followers should be “No reputation.” God chooses such people to further his agenda. Will we be involved, or do we like our perks too much?

In Job 1, Satan appears in God's court. God acknowledges the good job done by Job, and asks Satan if he has noticed what a righteous person Job has become. Satan's response is a tough challenge: "Does Job fear God for nothing?"

Think about what the evil one is implying here. He is asking, "Will a human serve God with no expectation of something in return?"

Will humans serve God for nothing?

That hurts, doesn't it? Even the mere thought of it as a possibility smarts a bit. Surely the mighty God of the universe wouldn't expect me to show him respect and serve his purposes without expectation of payment for services rendered, right?

RIGHT? (yeah, the question kinda lingers harshly, doesn't it?)

Will you serve God for nothing?

Can we humble ourselves to the point where we realize that God owes us nothing? Quite literally, we have done nothing to merit a reward. Even our service is a response to his continued mercy.

Will we, like Christ, humble ourselves to the point of no reputation? Are we willing to be "nobodies" in God's service, among his people, even among those who ought to "recognize" us?

What would Christmas look like this year if we (all of us) decided to give with no expectation of return? What if we humbled ourselves and expected no acknowledgment? What if we chose to serve anonymously and to bless others without receiving a blessing in return? What would happen?

What can you do this Christmas season that will bless others and garnish no reputation for you? Who can you serve that can't repay you? This year let's commit ourselves to serving, giving, and loving as Christ did. Let's look for opportunities to bless others in a way that does not give us recognition. Instead of asking for things for ourselves, let's give to the needs of others. Instead of expecting gifts, let's give our lives away in blessing others.

How would that change Christmas in your neighborhood?

Thanks for reading!

Friday, December 14, 2012

One Response to Tragedy and Grief

I sit here in my comfortable home and realize that my almost 8 years in Virginia have been at times chaotic. The month before I moved here, my father passed away after an extended illness.

Ten months after moving here a cousin close to my age passed away unexpectedly.

Then in October 2005, a pastor friend in Waco passed away unexpectedly. He was electrocuted during a baptism. He was 33, had a wife and children. More grief!

In December 2005, a very dear friend died in Waco. He was 44, healthy, and died in his sleep. No one knows why.

In the Spring of 2006, my aunt (the mother of the cousin above) passed away after a time in the hospital.

Then in the summer of 2006, one of my best friends died in a plane crash. More grief!

In 2007, there was the tragedy at Virginia Tech and the death of Jerry Falwell.  Even more grief and sadness.

Many of these tragedies and experiences of grief have been documented on my blog.  I am sure there are others, but I can't recall them at the moment. 

Then comes Friday, December 14. A sick person kills almost 30 people on the campus of school in Newtown, Connecticut.

The news of the event makes many people numb, angry, even scared.  I don't know how to respond. I mean, so many lives ended in an instance.

How do you move on? What do you do?

I feel so (what's the word?) angry, upset, sad. . . . I'm not sure what to say.

The shock of hearing about these untimely deaths (is death ever timely?) is bad enough, but this sudden bit of bad news has hit some people harder than I would have imagined. You see, grief comes knocking on our door, and he (Grief) was not expected. We weren't prepared, in fact we were getting ready for the celebration of the birth of Jesus, the Prince of Peace.  We were in the middle of celebrating Hanukkah, the festival of lights and of dedication in which the story of a mighty miracle by God is told.  And in the midst of these holy seasons, Grief came for a visit!

As a result, we don't know how to act or what to say!  Some of us are actually in shock!

Grief often shows up at the most inopportune time. He is seldom a welcome guest and even more rarely an invited one. He walks in unannounced and tries to take over the household. Grief immobilizes you. It makes you stop and hurt. I guess grief is useful, but when you are experiencing it you just want it to stop. You want the uninvited pest to go away. Something important was taken away without our permission!

Grief has come to us, he came uninvited. We will walk a while with Grief, probably in silence. In the end, we will still miss our friends or family members, but hopefully we will cherish life more.

Grief is not my friend, but he helps in some ways, I guess. Grief came knocking on our door, and we didn't check to see who it was before we answered. Now Grief is a guest in our homes again. How long he'll stay is anybody's guess. He'll leave quietly one day and the only evidence that he was there will be the memory of our missing friends and a few tear-filled tissues. Grief will go, but hopefully he will leave us wiser and more grateful.

Don't misunderstand me . . . I'm still confident in God's character.

I know God is faithful and good.

But this whole thing is just so wrong.

I hate death.

Yes, I hate it.

On the day when Death and Hades are kicked into the bottomless pit, I will stand and cheer. I will dance about wildly, flinging my arms and body in all sorts of directions in praise of a great accomplishment--greater than any touchdown, home run, or pay raise. I will celebrate madly the final death of Death. I long for the day.

For now, we will pray and grieve, though.

On the other hand, please remember that your grief is not in vain. Let it work a good work in you. Don't use it as an excuse to turn to anger or bitterness, but rather use it as a reminder to cherish those around you more, to revel in the friendships, the relationships, the life you have today.

Let grief drive you to enjoy the good in life today! Let it push you to a kind and merciful God who knows how to see you through it.

Let grief be the tool that causes you to appreciate life.

Life is precious, may we remember to cherish it and to nurture it.

I know, it is time to turn off the rant. You've heard enough.

Remember to pray for the community of Newtown, Connecticut and the friends and families who are hurting now.

Remember to express your own grief (or anger or sadness), to develop an appreciation for life.  You are precious.So are those around you. Cherish them, cherish the moments, the "little" things.

Okay, I'm done.  I'm praying for mercy and grace in this time.  May the Prince of Peace chase sadness away and give us true peace.  Blessings!

Thanks for reading!