The Passionate (Passive) Pursuit of God

When evangelist Gypsy Smith was asked why, at ninety years of age, there was still a fresh vitality in his witness, he replied, “Because I’ve never lost the wonder of it all.” I, too, pray for that same effervescent hope and glittery twinkle in my eye for my later years. Check that, I strive in Christ for it! I long to dwell in the secret place of the Most High and abide forever in the True Vine.

Far too many in the professing church today are hoping in a false security for all their eternal wants and wishes. Because they prayed a prayer, lifted a hand at a pastor’s behest during an invitation or filled out a decision card, they feel they are “in” and that’s all there is to it. There is no coming under the reign of Christ. They live as they gosh darn please. The Gospel of Heaven has replaced the Gospel of the Reign of Christ in the modern church.

When John the Baptist came preaching an “at-hand” Kingdom of Heaven, it was clear to him that a characteristic of a Kingdom citizen was one who was continually brought under the Lordship of the Son, the King of that Kingdom, Jesus the Christ.

“He must increase; I must decrease.”
(John 3:30)

The interesting thing about that passage is its Greek construction. The first phrase is a present active reality. “He must be increasing.” Simply put, the Baptizer knew this about the Kingdom economy: its citizens MUST be seen flourishing in the Life of Christ and He must be seen thriving and thrumming in them. The Good News is, this is not something we can work up on our own.

In the second phrase, the mood switches to the passive, morphing the words into these: “I must be BEING decreased.” I cannot break myself nor can I bring holiness to myself. It is the Lord’s doing.

Be forewarned. Those who would follow Christ are ripe for the anvil since we are all rife with self. Paul of the Damascus Road once shouted with his reed: “That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection (He must increase) and the fellowship of His suffering (I must be being decreased)…”

And still, still after years of hammering and hurting, scraping and scouring, being cast down, cast out and cast off, this hearty old apostle could say at the end of his days it had been “a good fight.” How can you kill a man who’s already dead?

When young Gypsy made Christ Lord of all His Life, it stuck. He made it his life’s pursuit to know Christ.

Eternal life is not gained by the mere lifting of a hand but with a life that abides in His Love (John 17:3). And it is a restful abiding, to be sure. Our work is only to yield (though that seems like hard labor in a prison yard at times as self is so unrelenting!). But His work is to deliver us all the way from Egypt and to Promise.

And one day, maybe a few hundred miles from this moment, or just a few perhaps, may we also turn to a would-be inquirer with glowing face and smiling eyes and give witness to a life well lived.

A life that, by God’s needful grace, never loses the wonder.

Well, I Goofed!

Yeah, leave it to me…

I went and done it now…

I plum forgot to renew my primary domain (pasturescott.com) and now have to wait about 3 months for it to be in play again…

But all is not lost.

Sniff, sniff…

(I’m trying to be brave in the face of ‘losing’ a long-time web-friend)

You see in the “http” box way at the top of your screen? Yeah, above “file” and “edit” and view”…that’s it…

That’ll be my “new” website address…

‘Scuse me for a moment, won’t you?

*retching and dry-heaving*

Just change your web-finder t-t, t-to, to…

pasturescott.wordpress.com

Until further notice.

And if any of you grab my preferred DOTCOM when it’s released back into the pool…

Well, you’ll make me cry. And you won’t like it when I cry.

Half-Time

Nearly half of 2009 is behind us now with only a few months left in the current year. Having brought this to your attention, let us consider this month’s offering a regrouping of sorts, our retiring to the locker room for a halftime confab. I played a lot of organized sports in my younger years and a lot of halftimes languish back there in my past. Some of them were rough. “What are you doing out there, Mitchell?” my red-faced coach would say. A few were upbeat. “Way to go guys! I like your intensity! Keep it up!” You’ll notice when things were bad, the captain (me) was singled out. When things were going well, the captain received no honorable mention.

Then there were those halftimes like the one in 1977. ‘Twas the gridiron of Lemon Street Stadium in Marietta, under the Friday night lights. We were getting beat so bad and not just on the scoreboard. When you’re down by almost thirty points, there’s not a lot a coach can say. Worse than the score, however, our locker room looked like a MASH unit. Nearly every guy had blood on his jersey, pants and running down his legs. Our star player was writhing in pain from a broken ankle and awaiting transport to a local hospital. Our quarterback’s arm was so bruised he could no longer lift it to throw a pass. We were dehydrated, debilitated and defeated. The coach could see it and, rather than chewing out our behinds, went quietly from soldier to soldier, patting us on our shoulder pads and offering encouragement. “You’ll need to soak in a bath of Epsom salt tonight, Scott.” He didn’t even call me by my last name.

The great thing about that halftime was that not a single player that was still sturdy enough to stand had an ounce of quit in him. When intermission was over, every last one of us went back out on that field.

I wish I could give you the “Hollywood-ized” version and say we crawled all the way back and won in the final minute. No, we most certainly did not. But we didn’t quit. “Character,” someone said, “is determined by how much it takes to stop you.” From the looks on the faces of our adversaries as we shook hands at the end, we could see respect in their eyes. We were inferior, our equipment was shoddy, and our game plan suspect.

Right about now some of us are bloodied and exhausted by relentless spiritual attack and the opposition of the world. The Apostle Paul didn’t give a speech but wrote a letter during his own “halftime” recounting the bloody battles of the first stanza:

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.
(2 Corinthians 4:8-10)

Against the backdrop of bleakness, Paul offers the greatest “rah-rah” cheer ever known. From that locker room it was not the sound of sorrow and sniveling but songs of praise and shouting that were offered!

Inferior? Hardly, for resurrection power caused them to rise as mammoths over the adversary. Out-of-date uniforms? Pshaw! For inside their jars of clay was the glorious Treasure of the Life of Christ who reined. Faulty game plan? Not on your life! Inwardly, we are being renewed and an eternal weight of glory outweighs anything we may suffer.

Don’t you quit, beloved. Spend some time in God’s locker room and get renewed.

And get back out on that field!

Eternal Perspective

God has given me something to share with you. The following was written by a college friend of mine on the night of my accident that has rendered me paralyzed since 1981. Walter, whose body bears the burden of cerebral palsy, became my friend in the late 70’s and we have only recently reconnected again after twenty-five years. Friends told me that Walter, when hearing the tragic news, ran off into the night as far as his disabled body would allow him and cried his eyes out to God for his fallen friend.

The questions of “why, God?” rose from his broken heart but they were met on that same night with this magnificent truth and these unforgettable words:

WHEN OUR FAITH IS SEEN AS SIGHT

When through this world of sorrow it seems all life is dark with pain
God will send the sun tomorrow but we cannot grow without rain

Chorus:
An eternal weight of glory worketh from afflictions light
For we’ll shout salvation’s story when our faith is seen as sight!

In darkness, pain and anguish, in helplessness that breeds despair
Jesus wins when we relinquish all that we are to Him in prayer

Oh the cross was agonizing, e’en though to die the Lord was born
Later there was great rejoicing when came the resurrection morn!

Someday when life is over, this tabernacle will depart
We’ll see Christ the greatest Lover, we’ll know the whole not just the part

Chorus:
An eternal weight of glory worketh from afflictions light
For we’ll shout salvation’s story when our faith is seen as sight!

–Walter Ferguson

I needed to hear that again today and I’m thinking you may have needed the reminder as well. As you may have deduced, the theme of Walter’s song is taken from Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthian Church. In one of its many benchmark declarations, Paul reminded his readers long ago,

“Therefore we do not give up; even though our outer person is being destroyed, our inner man is being renewed day by day. For our momentary light affliction is producing for us an absolutely incomparable eternal weight of glory. So we do not focus on what is seen but on what is unseen for what is seen is temporary and what is unseen is eternal.”
(2 Cor 4:16-18)

See that highlighted part? Whatever your affliction or weakness is today, remember these three things and you’ll be just fine:

• “momentary” – your adversity is TIMED (just as it began, it will come to a merciful end)
• “light” – your difficulty is TEMPERED (the sovereign God has His hand on the thermostat and His eye on the thermometer)
• “weight of glory” – your hardship is TAKING YOU FROM GLORY TO HIGHER GLORY!

 That’s His word for us today. Amen.

In Case You Forgot

So stick out today…

…you have a lot to smile about!

 

If Revival Is…

Quote:

REVIVAL is a work of God among Christians bringing them to…

…conviction
         …repentance
                       …confession
                                     …restitution
                                                   …reconciliation
                                                                       …separation from the world

AND

…submission to the Lordship of Jesus Christ.

(Vance Havner)

Closed quote.

If this is indeed what stipulates genuine revival…then…

(And I think you know where I am going with this)

Dare we not fall upon our faces right now? Confessing, Repenting, Mourning, and Getting off the Throne?

Should we not be appealing to God for kindness which leads to repentance?

Should we not be pining for a holy wind to stir the flames of passion within?

Is love abated?

Are the embers turning to ash?

He has charged us to buy gold, refined in the fire. What could this possibly mean? Remember, the Laodiceans boasted of their riches and self-sufficiency (Rev. 3:17). They arrogantly strutted atop the pedestal of prosperity, deceived by the wealth they rolled around in, seeing it as God’s favor all the while pushing Him to the outer margins of their existence. They blindly played at religion and made a good living at it.

Their All-Knowing Judge saw it differently:

“You stink with poverty.”

“Your Sunday best cannot hide your indulgences and adulteries.”

“You no longer look to Me and I have removed light from your eyes.”

“You’ve turned sour in My stomach.”

But there was grace even for them. Yeshua called them to seek—to ask for, to eagerly want!—a crisis in their fellowship. Such crisis as would lead to purity, transformation and a baptism of renewed Love! He said, “I counsel you to BUY FROM ME gold, refined by fire…” The word translated ‘counsel’ means to partner with, agree with…to come to the same conclusion! He’s telling them, in essence, There’s no other way…

But to trust and obey. 

“Buy from Me?” Just how was that possible? He had just told them they were POOR. With what currency could this transaction be completed?

You must let Me place you in the furnace.

No God, anything but that! we say.

It’s the only way, Child.

You will never learn to Love Me until all of self is abandoned. Until then, there will always be an obtrusive challenger for My affections… 

Now…

This is going to hurt…

But I love you too much to let you go away. Remember My promise to never leave you?

It’s still binding, even in this horrible, beautiful place.

I know the flames scare you. But those very flames are your freedom.

And you want to be free…

Don’t you?

Is That A Smile I See?

The Mrs. and I, long before we were, in fact, Mr. and Mrs., once played an innocent little party game at a friend’s apartment when we were in college. The object of the game was for a guy or gal to get the other one to smile by getting up in their space, without ever touching, and saying something like, “if you love me, honey, you’ll smile.” It was the other’s herculean task to keep from smiling. That was the catch. As if that weren’t enough, that person would also have to call upon all their inner reserves to stare ahead, flinty-faced—without even the slightest twitch at the corner of their mouth—and say the words, “You know I love you, honey, but I just can’t smile.”  

Silly? Not hardly. The school had rules against holding hands, so this was golden entertainment, I assure you. 

The beauty of the game was that you could pick any girl in the room—the prettier the better—and get so close in proximity to someone who might never, ever, let you get that close to her under normal circumstances, and milk the moment for all it’s worth! You can easily see where I’m going with this: it really wasn’t in the strategy to get a girl to smile. Not right away, anyway. You wanted to, ummm, play it out. 

Sandy and I weren’t dating each other when we first played the game, but I knew when it was my turn, I would pick her. Sandy was easily the knock-out of the room so I motioned for her to sit in front of me, at perfect eye level. I leaned in, ever so close, my breath the only partition between the lower region of our faces, lips so tantalizingly close, tension mounting. I barely opened my mouth when she absolutely cracked up! 

It was over before it even began. 

I rolled my eyes because I wanted our little game to play out. “C’mon, Sandy…” I groused. She straightened herself and playfully put on an exaggerated frown. “Sorry. Okay,” she said, pulling back her shoulders and adjusting in her seat. An exaggerated frown, then “I’m ready.” And so was I. 

“Saaaaaaannnnnndyyyyy…if you love me, you’ll smiiiiiiiiiiillllllle…”  

My eyes were looking deeply and dreamily into her green-blue speckled irises now, lips so close sparks were almost visible to the naked eye. Close enough to kiss. My heart thumped. A long pause. This time, however, Sandy sat still as a stone, never breaking with that deadpan, almost cold, stare, when finally her lips parted in a dead-straight line and she spoke the scripted words in measured cadence, “I love you…honey…(oooh, almost a smile!)…but…”

 A theatrical pause.

“I.  Just. Can’t. Smile.”  

The next day, I broke up with my girlfriend, asked Sandy out and she and I have been together ever since… 

It occurs to me just now that silly little game should be the commercial for the modern professing church.

Jesus said, “If you love Me, you’ll…keep My commandments.” (John 14:15) It is often said of the western  church that for all its creeds and confessions, there seems to be a vast disconnect between all her beautiful homilies and its testimony in a barely noticing pagan culture. We do pretty well at INforming but not TRANSforming modern culture. IN the world and also, far too sadly, OF the world. 

“We love You, Jesus, but we just can’t (or won’t) obey those commands You’ve left with us.”

“You weren’t really serious about these things, were You?”

Lay not in store for yourselves treasures on earth.

You must say ‘good-bye’ to everything in order to be My disciple.

Deny yourself.

Take up your cross daily.

In order to save your life, lose it. 

Go make disciples.

“No, I don’t expect YOU to do them…I expect to do them…through you. So smile!”

To this church, our Lord asks, “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord’ and do not do what I say?” (Luke 6:46) So the Spirit comes again and again to this church, coaxing and cajoling, hoping for a sign, a ‘tell’, a flinch, a twitch or a blink. Something. Anything. The church, unmoved, sits behind her stone walls and glazed stained-glass eyes, going through the motions, saying some nice things, yet wholly noncommittal. An outside observer might say with consternation, “Is that a yes? Was that a no? I can’t tell.” 

Of course, our Lord doesn’t have to ask that question. 

The church of the New Testament, she who is being perfected and readied for her Bridegroom Lord, is not enigmatic but emblematic. She has a “yes” in her heart for her Lord. She does not play at love but moves closer, ever closer, as she is pulled into the inner chamber of intimacy with Christ. Whatever He asks, she capitulates gladly. Even when He asks her to smile. 

May it always be said of us: “She obeyed! She smiled! She really does love her Lord!”

You Say Codfish, I Say Catfish

There are sharks in the water and I am a bleeding man.

The adversary is [swimming] about, seeking whom he may devour—and he’s in my swimming hole!  Alas, I am again bed-ridden with a pressure sore that was very containable the past few days. Overnight, however, it tripled in size and deepened. The silver lining is that it is not on my bum as in years past, but on the side of my leg. Even still, a pressure sore is a pressure sore no matter where it may fester. Knowing this and what’s ahead, Sandy laid her hand on my leg in the wee hours just before dawnbreak and prayed for a miracle. Lord, You know…You see…

It’s not just about “staying off it for a few days”; it means bandaging, watching, waiting, wondering if and when it’s time to call in the professionals, preventing infection, cancelling appointments, answering the same questions over and over again…

Drip, drip, drip.

Sniff, sniff. (Sharks can smell blood from over a mile away, I understand)

I once heard about the codfish industry’s struggle to stay afloat. It seems that years ago North Atlantic codfish were shipped frozen but the quality of the fish was unacceptable once thawed, having lost its taste after the 3 or 4 days it took to come in from the sea. Someone thought that shipping the cod in seawater might improve the quality but it didn’t take long at all to realize once the fish arrived to port, the texture of the meat was mushy and tasteless. The reason? The cod was sedentary, almost comatose, during the shipping process.

What to do, what to do…

It was then discovered if you shipped live North Atlantic cod in seawater with its natural enemy—the catfish—in the tank, the quality of the fish would improve dramatically. Imagine being one of those sweet little cods, swimming and swimming for your life, constantly chased, not able to rest or sleep for days. Exercised. Pushed to its limits. Heart pumping. Blood racing.

Mmmmm-mmmm good. As Chuck Swindoll observes:

God knows that we are codfish in a catfish world. God allows all things, even catfish type things to help us grow strong and if He kept us from those things, we wouldn’t grow into the image of Jesus Christ. Jesus himself said, ‘In this world you are going to have struggles. You are going to have troubles, tribulations, but be of good courage. I have overcome the world and I am going to take those troubles and I am going to transform you more and more in to my likeness.’

–Charles Swindoll

The illustration breaks down in that I am not running, racing, panting and scared for my life. I’m resting. I’m trusting. Oh, I can feel the whiskers on my heels but there’s One in the “tank” with me, staring down my predatory foe. His love for me is such that no creature above, around or beneath can take my life. The enemy cannot even ruin my day. I’m sure that really chaps him.

Inconvenience? Most certainly.

Concern? Is the proverbial pope catholic?

Quit? (and I know I’m mixing metaphors here) Hardly. The towel is still in the corner of the ring and there’s no way my Trainer is throwing it in.

I’ll be fine, as always. But sharks, you’d best beware. Your enemy is the Almighty who rules over you.

666 By The Numbers

 

 

 

 

 When I was breaking into puberty, Richard Milhouse Nixon was America’s president. On his staff was a man that many thought might just be the end-time dude, the replacement-Christ, the anti-Christ. It had everything to do with his name. Heinz (Henry) Kissinger, Nixon’s Secretary of State and National Security Advisor, was of European descent and was greatly used in opening lines of diplomacy between the U.S. and China and brokering peace deals between Arabs and Israelis. He drew gasps from many religious buffs who heard him declare “Peace is at hand” near the end of the Viet Nam conflict.

The Peace Man.

But the empirical evidence seemed to be, not his name so much, but the letters in his name. If one assigns numerical value to each letter of his name in both Hebrew or English, one arrives at the sum total of ‘666′. Of course others thought Reagan was the anti-Christ because His first, middle and last name each have six letters each. 6-6-6. Then came the Pope, the Secretary General of the U.N., George Bush, various Russian leaders, and Bob Dole. Oh, and Prince Charles. (I think it’s because he’s a prince and the Bible sometimes refers to this coming world monarch as a “prince.” I think.)

Rick Warren is another. There have been stranger guesses, I suppose. Or maybe he’ll be the false prophet (now behave all you fightin’ fundies).

Frankly, if you strive hard enough, nearly anyone’s name could sum out to 666. I like what a guy named Salmon wrote: “If the proper name by itself will not yield to it (i.e., 666), add a title; secondly, if the sum cannot be found in Greek, try Hebrew or even Latin; thirdly, do not be too particular about the spelling…We cannot infer much from the fact that a key fits the lock if it is a lock in which almost any key will turn.”

Here’s an idea worth considering. Maybe John the Revelator was thinking along these lines. Sorry, no predictions here of the WHO, only the certainty of the WHAT.

Consider the Roman numbering system. The Roman numerals are, of course, as follows:

I = 1
V = 5
X = 10
L = 50
C = 100
D = 500

Add them up.

What’d you come up with?

Six hundred and sixty-six, right?

Oh, I almost forgot. There is another Roman numeral that I did not include in the list. Anyone have a guess? Oh, you are a smart little cookie! Good for you. That’s right.

M.

And what does ‘M’ amount to?

Right again. Can’t get nothing by you, can I? It’s numerical value is ONE THOUSAND.

Hey, wait a minute! Isn’t there something significant about ‘1,000′ in the Revelation? Something about a Ruler coming to set up His Kingdom and rule for a THOUSAND years? And at the end of the thousand years (aka, the Millennium), the Father will come to earth and the Son will turn the Kingdom over to His Father forever! And we will be the Father’s habitation and the Bridegroom Lord and His Bride will dwell together under His roof forever…

So…

Going back to 666, I don’t have the foggiest who the “little horn” is but I do know this: he has designs to rule and reign for a long, long, long time, but no matter how much he wants to reign exclusively, he will NEVER achieve his goal. For there is another who is coming—bet your bottom dollar on it—and the government will be on His shoulder, and every knee shall bow and everyone will confess that HE is Lord to the glory of God the Father. I do know His name. The other guy?

It doesn’t really matter if it’s him, him, so-and-so or whatsisname. All I know is, his term will be less that a single presidential term (no, I am so NOT inferring anything by that, just pointing out the meteoric rise and fall of this would-be Christ) and will still not be able to rule everyone on the planet. Sure he will have great, diabolical power and his presence will prove terrifying. And his campaign slogan is ”worship me or die.” I know all this. And I know we will need wisdom like we’ve never known in the coming days (see Revelation 13:18) and great “endurance and faith” (13:10).

But he is a man of the SIX and six is one short of seven which refers to God’s man. His perfect, completed man. Earthly Man at his best will always fall short of the ideal. And his term will soon be over. This is deTERMined by the King who will reign forever.

Have your I, V, X, L, C and D, o enemy. The ‘M’ is for MESSIAH!

Cue Handel. It’s time to sing and shout!

So Glad It Wasn’t Nathan

Earlier today my cell phone bellowed out the UGA fight song. Since I was busy facebooking, I decided to let my voicemail pick it up. An hour later, I listened to my caller’s message.

“Scott, I got a distressing call today about a situation I think you may be right in the middle of.” Or I think that’s what the voice said. Hard to tell as it was breaking up a bit. No, I think that’s exactly what he said.

My heart skipped a beat. Why the constricted chest? I asked myself. Are you feeling guilty?

No. Not a bit. I have no bones hidden away, no corpses buried. Been faithful to my spouse. Handling of money has not been an issue. So why did I gulp for air? Probably the same reason our hearts race when a police car swerves in behind us. We can be driving the speed limit with our seat belt on and up-to-date tag, no open containers in the seat beside us, and still—still—expect those blue lights to start pulsating.

I punched in my friend’s number and got his voice mail. “Hey,” I said after the customary beep, “got your message. It kinda broke up on me. Call me.” I tried not to sound too edgy.

An hour felt like infinity, but finally my friend returned my call. But during that hour I imagined all kinds of nefarious reasons for the delay. Perhaps he is calling others asking for prayer as he has to confront me with some (unimaginable) sin issue. Perhaps he is gathering more concrete evidence. Those minutes dragggged by.

stimulating

I’m needing stimulus. No, not that kind. Something that’s effectual. Trustworthy. Otherworldly.

I keep getting hit with the verse “God is great and we do not know Him.” It came up again in a recent conversation. I saw it a day or two afterward in a friend’s post. And then, this morning, a testimony that was given during our worship service alluded to it. It occurs to me that though I have been on a path of pursuit to know God for nearly three decades, I still only see Him with blurred vision.

Remember the man born blind?

Like him, I need to go all the way to Siloam that my sight will be single, clear, focused. Interesting place, Siloam. It exists even today. Of the three places it is mentioned in the Bible, two of them are in adjoining chapters—here and in the preceding chapter.  In John 7, the priest draws water from the Pool of Siloam and pours it on the altar as a memorial of the time Moses was told to strike the Rock and water gushed out onto the desert soil. Paul would later give revelation that the Rock was, indeed, Christ. What the priest did was to put the central focus on Christ.

In this season, Going to Siloam means make haste to know Him in all His glorious fullness. Do not delay. Fight off distractions. Fend off suitors. Press into His Kingdom violently. Discover His greatness. 

What if the young man had thought to himself, “y’know? I’m okay. It’s a bit blurry, but I can see better than I used to!”? What if he had stood pat and satisfied?

That’s what I, for one, DO NOT want to find out. 

Knowing You, Jesus. There is no greater thing.

Q-Tip Clarity

You’ve all seen the bespectacled, geekish man with cell phone firmly pressed against his ear moving about the country asking the anonymous person on the other end of the line again and again, “Can you hear me now?” It has been one of the most successful promotional gimmicks in recent years and that ingenious tagline has become a catchword for a modern generation, much like “where’s the beef?” was in the 1980s.

The point was, of course, to show that Verizon had more coverage than any other competitor and one would have to be, say, underwater so as to not be able to complete a connection.

I know of One whose coverage is so Sprint-pin-drop-clear and Verizon-wide (times eternity) that the sharpness and clarity of the “Let there be Light!” that thundered into time and space many millennia ago is still explicitly articulate today. Same Voice. Ageless. Commanding. Clear.

I recall sitting in my junior high school speech class in 1973 and hearing my teacher say that every word that has ever been spoken is still trapped in our atmosphere-Lincoln’s address at Gettysburg, John Adams’ fervent appeals at the First Continental Congress, or the cry of warning from a sailor aboard the Titanic. Trouble is, we haven’t the tools to capture them.

Ah, but the One Voice that trumps them all, we can hear. James tells us we have the tools to hear God with amazing clarity. The same James who grew up with Jesus and knew His Voice quite distinctly tells us we can hear His Voice.

Are you listening?

I want to hear God, you say. You hear of others speaking so freely about “God told me this…” “God spoke to me last night…” and your frustration level rises. Why can’t that be me? Why can’t I hear Him like that?

“Camel Knees” (a.k.a. James, because he spent so much time on his knees listening for his Elder Brother’s Voice) gives us a clue as subtle as a sledgehammer: “putting aside all filthiness and all that remains of wickedness, in humility receive the word implanted…” (James 1:21). The word translated “filthiness” is closely related to a word meaning ‘ear wax’! He is telling us that many cannot hear because of the ghastly buildup and the passageway is blocked. Let me illustrate.

I am in a wheelchair at present (duh).  Through my 27 years of disability I have been asked to come over to people’s homes countless times, and, many of those times have been hindered from going too far inside because of steps, rooms crowded with furniture, narrow doorways, what have you.  I believe we come to the Word in much the same way. “Come in, Lord. Speak to me.” Yet there is so much clutter, off-limits rooms, and, excuse me, wax buildup, that our Lord can get no further than the foyer of our hearts.

He’s always speaking. Am I listening? Can I hear?

In the same verse James tells us to “receive the Word with humility.” Guess what else hinders my hearing God? Selective hearing. When my agenda will overrule His Word to me, I will not hear. When I am already prejudiced against and deaf to Truth, He won’t waste words on me. But doers of the Word (v22) will have the blessing of a streaming dialogue with the Almighty!  

When the LORD called Abraham, He only had to say His name once and he said, “Here, LORD.” Such was the condition of the old patriarch’s heart. God knew His man had an abiding “yes” within and the two could share an ongoing conversation all his days. Guess they had Q-Tips back then, too.

Clean ears. Open hearts. Obedient lives. Want to hear God? Now you’re on the right frequency.

A New Poll

You’re Getting In My Personal Space

YOU ARE PARKED IN A SPACE CLEARLY DESIGNATED FOR DISABLED PERSONS.
 PLEASE CIRCLE THE STATEMENT WHICH BEST DESCRIBES YOUR HANDICAP:
(Blondes, you will need to use a pencil with eraser)

• I don’t read good.
• I suffer from terminal laziness.
• I have Attention Deficit Disorder. Huh?
• My inner child was bugging me for ice cream.
• My shoes are too expensive to walk in.
• Wheelchair symbol? I thought it was a rocking chair!
• My religion forbids acts of common courtesy.
• I ignore OTHER laws, why not this one?
• I am disabled… by a painfully swollen ego.

The Problem With Ya

It happened on a beach one day. A Man was feeding some others with grilled fish that had been ‘imported’. He had no fishing pole, no boat, no  net. The fish…just…appeared. The men who gathered at the Man’s fire were experienced fishermen and had just hit the mother lode that morning and were dragging in their nets bulging with the greatest catch of their lives. But the story wasn’t about their fish so much as it was the Man who was offering them fish from out of the blue. And not sea-blue, either.

Really, the story is about the Man.

And what He is after.

By now all Bible-o-philes know I’m talking about the Man Jesus. He has finished His work as the atoning sacrifice, the Lamb offered for the sin of the world and days have passed since Resurrection Morning. And now, in glorified Body He sits on the beach, grilling fish, serving His Eleven (even Jesus had people leave His church) and eating with them. You’d think that would be the bulk of the breakfast conversation along with fish out of nowhere but it wasn’t.

There on the lakeshore in the misty morning, Jesus trolls for an Undivided Heart through which He can show Himself strong. He calls out Peter and asks, “Simon (his natural birth name), do you love Me?” Of course the rest of the question includes “more than these” and there are as many interpretations of “these” out there as there are denominations, but I just want to sit on these first five words.

I saw three things about that question this morning. First, Jesus reveals something beautiful about Himself through the question. He reveals that He is very interested in BEING LOVED. Secondly, not only does He want to be loved, He wants that love CONFESSED.

Think of your girl (or your man, as the case may be): when your heart went thump-thump-thump, your hands turned sweaty and your stomach turned cartwheels for her, how private was it? Could you keep it to yourself? Maybe you didn’t announce it to the whole school or even your parents, but you told someone. And dollars to donuts, I’ll bet you declared your undying love to that confidante for her. And when it became official? When she got your ring or letter jacket or jersey? Oh, by then the whole dang school knew! Right?

In other words, you don’t have to be told to spread the news. It’s a strange thing about Jesus, though. We seem to stifle our passion, zip our lips, avert eyes and avoid any conversation that might steer “there”—away from church, that is.  I know of some men who take their wedding bands off when they are business travelling. I’ve seen a wife or husband swat their partner’s hand away or fend off an advancing kiss because people were (gasp!) watching.

And then I’ve seen couples doing mouth-to-mouth on each other in a mall, completely oblivious to the passing world around them. Now that’s confessing!

But there’s a third thing I saw from Jesus’ query. Jesus also wants this love to be UNCOMMON. And here I’ll talk about the “problem with ya.”

I have yearbooks where, say, my girlfriend writes a paragraph over her class photo or flyleaf about how much fun I’ve been, how great it is to know me, I’m so sweet, all that hoo-hah. Then she signs off with a “Love Ya!” I started looking over all the other autographs and end-of-an-era fare-thee-wells and was shocked to find that all the other girls who were my friends had also signed off. The. Exact. Same. Way.

When it hit me, I realized my girlfriend may have just as well said, “Sincerely yours” or even “Warmly”—or worse: “Have a great life without me!”  I know, I know ”love ya!” is fun. It’s sassy. But my juvenile stirrings wanted more than just being her special pal. The ‘ya’ made our relationship seem common, less special. I knew it then: I was in her ’friend zone’, her insufferable stable of chums.

The Man Christ Jesus is calling His Bride out of the earth, illustrated by His calling out Simon Peter on that Spring morning.

He wants her love.

He wants her to confess their love openly.

And He wants it to be uncommon.

(Read: Agape)

“More than these?” (What? More than the other guys? More than the caught fish? More than the ‘uncaught’ fish? More than the nets? Who knows? It doesn’t matter. What matters is: “_________________ (put own name here), do you love Me?”)

It is hard to confess that too often my love letters to Jesus are friendly. Warm. Sometimes (dare I say it?) polite. Oh Lord, for a fiery heart, a flame-engulfed passion, a raging, out-of-(self) control molten River of Undying Love for the Son. May liquid-hot magma overflow the banks of my heart and consume everything in its path that the Glory of the Son might be revealed in me. God, deliver me from a ”Love Ya” heart! 

And Sandy, my bride on this earth, who daily demonstrates in my personal world what God is doing on a global scale, this marital mini-series of where God is taking all of us, I cannot believe this will be the 28th straight Valentine’s Day we will celebrate together. I’m so happy the LORD has given you to me to love in this lifetime. I’m so glad the ya’s don’t enter into our life’s conversation. (Too often)

I love you.

Going Digital…and Grandma Nearly Going Postal

Perhaps February 17th would be a good day to pretend we ALL are still on analog and just have a day without the television confusing our lives…next Tuesday could be “Fuzzday”…just watch the “snow” from your favorite living room chair!

Walk The Walk

Today I sat in a hair stylist’s station and got what few hairs are left a good clean cutting. As I sat stock-still in my chair I noticed a poster on the wall which sported the well-groomed head of a man who looked vaguely like Kevin Costner a la first glance.  Beneath his profile were the words, “Walk Right In. Sit Right Down.” Wryly, I thought to myself, I can only obey one of those commandments.

I have walking on the brain today.  (Note: I’m a 27 year pro on the wheelchair circuit)  Even before I saw that poster I was remembering how many times I’ve been sitting in a worship service when the leader has instructed, “Let’s stand and sing” and I feel eyes cutting in my direction.  Don’t get me wrong, I get a huge kick out of these things—most of the time. “Stand up, stand up for Jesus” is another one of those hymn memories that has made me more than a little self-conscious.

For a society that is overweight and under exercised, we sure talk a lot about walking. Australians have their walkabouts, ice cream stands offer walk-up service, people out in the wild communicate via walkie-talkies (sittee-talkies just plain miss the point), we walk our dogs, stroll down memory lane, walk out on our mates, walk in circles and “walk the line.”

Which brings me to the point of my musings for today. Let’s backtrack about 1,960 years to a time when the footpaths were well traveled. See just over the way a small, stoop-shouldered man walking at his usual undistracted pace. Since the Apostle Paul didn’t sport around in a motor car, he did a lot of walking.  And he wrote a lot about walking. Without using a concordance, three instances spring to mind:

• We WALK by faith, not by sight (2 Cor 5:7)
• WALK circumspectly (Eph 5:15)
• WALK in a manner worthy of your calling (Eph 4:1)

There are others, I know.  Many others. But let’s use these three to, uh, “walk” out into the new year. The word Paul uses in all three cases can be translated: ‘to pound the pavement’ or ‘to trudge along’ and infers direction, intention and progress.

When Paul said to walk “circumspectly” he may have had in mind the tedious and accurate work of the scribes who made sure every word, line, jot and tittle (iota and tau) of the Torah (Law) were precisely accurate. Their furrowed brows beaded with the sweat of certainty. They labored to get it right. They counted every word in each line to make sure they came up with the same number that was found in the manuscript they were copying. They were chosen because of their skill and dedication, so Paul could just have easily said, “Walk skillfully in this evil age, treading carefully as you go.”

The passage in Ephesians 4 gives the inspiration for this entry’s title. The phrase “walk in a manner worthy…” is the idea of a set of balanced scales, thus, a balanced life. I don’t mean merely to balance fun with work although all work and no play makes Jack a pretty dull dude; the thought expressed is that each one of us has been created to bring Him glory through righteous works which are part of His master plan for us from eons ago (Eph 2:10).  We have been given the indwelling Christ, a certain measure of faith, the promises, a calling, spiritual gifts and the power of the Spirit to make sure we live up to our responsibility. Peter said He has given us “everything we need for life and godliness” (2 Peter 1:3)! How much? Everything!

The beauty of it all is He has set us up for sure success! My role is to stay attached to the Vine from which I gulp down the Lifeflow of His Person and get to bear the fruit of His service through me. I like those odds. But sadly, many never come into the knowledge of these things and because the scales don’t balance—their life doesn’t work—they walk away sorrowful, dejected, fed up and fit to be tied.

But not us. Not me. Not in this new year. Like you, I want my life to match His dream for me. With all these precious promises, 2009 can be a walk to remember.

The Family Christmas Tree

“I AM the Vine, you are the branches…” (John 15:5)

“Christmas is not about being with people you like. Christmas is about being with family!”
–Tim “The Tool Man” Taylor, Home Improvement

I love the family the Lord has put me in.  In fact, I like my family (most of them). And I think most of them like me. Unfortunately, like many of you, I have family scattered all over so occasions like Christmas are nigh unto impossible to get us all together. But this year…this year…I’m thinking differently.  For the first time in, like, ever, I am going to enjoy the whole family tree under one roof, at one time, together and intimate.

And here’s how I’m going to do it. One word: genealogies.

The story of Christmas is familial. The two gospelers that leave us with the record of Christ’s birth also include His family tree. Matthew’s gospel shows us the line of Christ giving Him legal right to the Throne of David through his earthly father Joseph.  Luke’s genealogical record solves the sticky case of a cursed bloodline by showing Christ as also coming through the untainted lineage of Mary. Long story short, if Christ had only come through Joseph’s line, He could not have sat on the Throne with Divine favor–even though it gave Him legal right to it–because of a ‘little’ problem back there with Jehoiachin (see Jeremiah 22:24-30 and Matthew 1:11,12).

God “got around” this pothole by birthing His only begotten Messiah Son through a virgin who also came through the lineage of David. Here stands Yeshua Hamashiach, with legal and Divine rights to the everlasting throne. A king (Jehoiachin/Jeconiah/Coniah) almost messed up the Christmas ‘Tree’ but a virgin sealed the deal!

Which brings me to my Tree.

‘Twas The Night Before Christmas (In Legalese)

Whereas, on or about the night prior to Christmas, there did occur at a
certain improved piece of real property (hereinafter “the House”) a
general lack of stirring by all creatures therein, including, but not limited to a mouse.

A variety of foot apparel, e.g. stocking, socks, etc., had been affixed
by and around the chimney in said House in the hope and/or belief that
St.Nick a/k/a St. Nicholas a/k/a Santa Claus (hereinafter “Claus”) would arrive
at some time thereafter.

The minor residents, i.e. the children, of the aforementioned House,
were located in their individual beds and were engaged in nocturnal
hallucinations, i.e. dreams, wherein vision of confectionery treats,
including, but not limited to, candies, nuts and/or sugar plums, did
dance, cavort and otherwise appear in said dreams.

Whereupon the party of the first part (sometimes hereinafter referred to
as “I”), being the joint-owner in fee simple of the House with the parts
of the second part (hereinafter “Mamma”), and said Mamma had retired
for a sustained period of sleep. (At such time, the parties were clad in
various forms of headgear, e.g. kerchief and cap.)

Suddenly, and without prior notice or warning, there did occur upon the
unimproved real property adjacent and appurtenant to said House, i.e. the
lawn, a certain disruption of unknown nature, cause and/or circumstance.
The party of the first part did immediately rush to a window in the
House to investigate the cause of such disturbance.

At that time, the party of the first part did observe, with some degree
of wonder and/or disbelief, a miniature sleigh (hereinafter the
“Vehicle”) being pulled and/or drawn very rapidly through the air by approximately
eight (8) reindeer. The driver of the Vehicle appeared to be and in fact was, the previously referenced Claus.

Said Claus was providing specific direction, instruction and guidance
to the approximately eight (8) reindeer and specifically identified the animal
co-conspirators by name: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid,
Donner and Blitzen (hereinafter the “Deer”). (Upon information and belief,
it is further asserted that an additional co-conspirator named “Rudolph” may have been involved.)

The party of the first part witnessed Claus, the Vehicle and the Deer
intentionally and willfully trespass upon the roofs of several residences
located adjacent to and in the vicinity of the House, and noted that the
Vehicle was heavily laden with packages, toys and other items of unknown origin or nature.

Suddenly, without prior invitation or permission, either express or
implied, the Vehicle arrived at the House, and Claus entered said House
via the chimney. Said Claus was clad in a red fur suit, which was
partially covered with residue from the chimney, and he carried a large
sack containing a portion of the aforementioned packages, toys, and other unknown items.

He was smoking what appeared to be tobacco in a small pipe in blatant
violation of local ordinances and health regulations. Claus did not
speak, but immediately began to fill the stocking of the minor children,
which hung adjacent to the chimney, with toys and other small gifts.
(Said items did not, however, constitute “gifts” to said minor pursuant
to the applicable provisions of the U.S Tax Code.)

Upon completion of such task, Claus touched the side of his nose and
flew, rose and/or ascended up the chimney of the House to the roof where
the Vehicle and Deer waited and/or served as “lookouts.” Claus
immediately departed for an unknown destination.

However, prior to the departure of the Vehicle, Deer and Claus from said
House, the party of the first part did hear Claus state and/or exclaim:
“Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!”
Or words to that effect. 

Just A Reminder

Translation: 10 days to buy me something nice…

For Those ‘Trying’ To Live The Christian Life

Are we called to ‘imitate’ our Lord’s Life?

Can ‘we’ even live up to such a Life?

Here’s a question that might tip some sacred cows: truthfully now, does our Lord really need us to serve Him (see Acts 17:24,25 and Mark 10:45)? Or is the fruit of the abiding Life His serving through us that brings glory to the Father?

Take a look-see at what Mr. Morgan cooks up for us:

“The nature of the Christian Life is Christ’s Life taking hold upon all the inner life of a man, changing, dominating, pulsating…the Christian Life is neither imitation of Christ nor correct intellectual positions concerning Christ. I may attempt to imitate Christ most sincerely through long years, and yet never be a Christian. It is possible for me to admire him, and attempt with all the power of my life to imitate Him and yet never realize Him.

It is quite possible for a person to believe most sincerely in His deity and the fact of His atoning work, and moreover, in the necessity for regeneration, and yet never be submitted to His Lordship, never to have a personal share in His atonement, never to be born again.

Nothing short of the coming into the Life of Christ Himself constitutes a Christian. If Christ be in you, living, reigning there absolutely, and you are obeying Him, there will never be a moment when the Truth will not be evident. You cannot hide Christ if once He comes within. If the Light is there, it simply must shine.”

–G. Campbell Morgan (Congregational Pastor, 1863-1945)

 

“In Him was Life, and the Life was the Light of men.”
(John 1:4)

JT, you are sooo right, my brutha.  Only Christ can live the Christian Life. (loved the post, by the way)

It’s the Life of the Indwelling Christ that makes us His. Let’s put away our checklists, ’how-to’ manuals, rule books, and activity reports. He longs for intimacy with His own, so let’s draw near. A reigning Christ living through a reigning people.  Now that’s a recipe made in Heaven!

As Steve Brown says: “You think about that. Ah-men.”

The Little Vine And The Old Oak Tree

These are upsetting times. Someone recently commented that a “perfect” storm is converging in the earth, fed by radical religious ideology, terrorism, global economic chaos, the progression toward a new world order and mounting fears that the end is near. We’re hearing the word “Illuminati” rise again in the throats of wary prophets. There’s been a run on guns and ammo of late, many fearing forthcoming legislation that would blockade such purchases and to arm homes for the very real possibility of protection in the face of looming depression. Bankers and CFO’s are turning to yoga and other meditative disciplines (not to mention self-medication) just to cope with the stress of a slip-and-slide market.

Indeed, millennialists who take the Scriptures concerning the end of times seriously and literally (as this writer does) know that the two kingdoms–God’s and the satan’s–must come into a monumental collision before the full expression of God’s Kingdom on earth is realized. In short, the news is sure to rattle the knees of the faint of heart: things are going to get worse.

In view of this, I’d like to share a little parable that might just flip aright any castdown sheep out there. A friend of mine recently told me of a tornado that had descended on a sleepy little town, derstroying everything in its path. Everything, that is, except for two marvels of nature. When the disaster relief people roared into town in their trucks and SUVs with flashing lights and sirens wailing, the personnel took painstaking inventory of the aftermath.

The tornado had uprooted fences, overturned homes and flipped cars. Buildings looked like matchsticks in the wake of such devastation. However, in a field glutted with debris, stood a lone oak tree having weathered the storm with amazing courage and endurance. As relief workers moved closer they were taken aback by a fragile young vine that had wrapped around its base, clinging to it for dear life.

No question that the same forceful winds that had roared through an hour earlier should have ripped to pieces such a delicate vine, but the feeble branches had learned long before to find and attach themselves to an immoveable object.

Isaiah prophesied to both of the divided kingdoms of Israel that separate roaring armies would invade and obliterate both north and south, save only the remnant who remained loyal to Yahweh. The northern kingdom–Israel–would fall prey to advancing hordes of Assyrians while their brothers to the south–Judah–would have to deal with brutish Babylonians years later. But to both he offered this enduring promise:

“They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength…”
(Isaiah 40:31)

“Wait” in Hebrew has the idea of twisting one’s self around something sure and unmoveable. Like that delicate vine wrapping itself around the massive oak tree, Isaiah is telling a people facing their own perfect storm to let go of their kingdoms and abide in the Vine of Life.

The shaking that is coming to the earth will destroy at will everything in its path, leaving in its wake homes built on sand, securities eaten through by moths and rust, and purses with holes along with everything else that draws affection away from Jesus.

Beloved, this is the time to cut ties.

This is the time to break unholy alliances.

This is the time to embed ourselves in Jesus, the Rock of Ages, the Cornerstone…

…the Tree of Life.

Aftermath

I admit it.

The “I” that lingers nearby, that soulish side of me, is quite saddened by events that transpired yesterday. But the ”no longer I” that dwells in me has a settled spirit today. I have utmost faith that the man God voted for–much as He voted for Nebuchadnezzar to czar over His own covenant people for a time–is in place. 

No hanging chad or voter fraud kept God’s choice from gaining the highest office in the land.  “It is He who changes the times and epochs; He removes kings and establishes kings…” (Dan 2:21)  Asaph declared, “God is the Judge! He puts down one and lifts up another…” (Ps 75:7)  The “no longer I” has not one shred of a doubt that God sovereignly decreed it from His Throne and His will was done in the earth.

So why Obama?

It seems clear to me: he isn’t George W. Bush. Many were swayed by rhetoric alone but many more just wanted change from the status quo.  And change they’ll get. The presently declining economy admixed with the now-former Senator’s policies will undoubtedly usher in some pretty dismal days.

The mills are rife with rumors: stronger government control. Through the roof taxation.  A more accomodating atmosphere for radical ideologies only seven years removed from 9/11. Expanding socialism. A welfare culture that rewards laziness. Just rumors? Perhaps. But take notice: nearly as many that voted for the man voted against the man and half the country is poised for the worst. I’ll go ahead and say it.  Judgment is beginning.  God is cleaning His house. He is preparing His Bride.

Would I have preferred a McPailin administration?

Depends on which “me” you’re addressing.  The ‘ego-me’ or the ‘no longer I’ me?  Right about now I’m putting duct tape over the ego-me’s mouth and renewing his/my mind. I’m putting that little guy in a prolonged time-out…crucifying him wouldn’t be such a bad idea either, come to think of it.

In summary, this ‘no longer I’ casts his vote for Jesus, knowing He has ALL authority in heaven and earth. Any ruler below heaven–even those that scare the stuffing out of the natural man and a quaking church–is a delegated authority and is subject to a Higher Authority. God’s Kingdom operates through authority.  It is everywhere. Government. Civil servants. Military. Employers. Pastors (couldn’t leave that one out). When Paul was admonishing us to submit ourselves to the authorities, it was a pretty mean dude who sat as Emperor–Nero–even though his maniacal years lie just ahead.

So, at around 11:00 last night, when Obama reached the magical number that would vault him into the White House as our 44th president, I jotted down some things that I believe came straight from the ‘no longer I’s’ frame of thinking.  I trust you’ll join me.

• pray for President-elect Obama and the awesome task he has ahead of him and submit so long as his delegated reign does not interfere with the arch-reign of Jesus Christ
• repent for a worldly, compromising, flaccid church that has stood idly by as satan’s kingdom has slowly knocked the lights out of this land
• grieve for the sins of America–especially THE transgression of self-rule that typifies the ego-me
• disentangle myself from all idols and attachments because everything that can be shaken will be shaken (Hebrews 12:25-29)
• Do not fear man but trust the Lord
• And then there’s this:

“Oh Lord, we know all is well. We trust Thee for all.
We love Thee increasingly. We bow to Thy will.”

Bow not as one who is resigned to some heavy blow about to fall or to the acceptance of some inevitable decision. Bow as a child bows, in anticipation of a glad surprise being prepared for it by one who loves it. Bow in such a way, just waiting to hear the Loving Word to raise your head, and see the Glory and Joy and wonder of your surprise.

–God Calling, October 28, p173

That’s called “no longer I” thinking…

Night And Day Difference

In just a few hours, little draculas, zombies, aliens and hobgoblins will be prowling the streets at nightfall extorting candy from innocent victims who are not safe, even while ensconced in the shelter of their own homes. These menacing little beings promise cruel tricks unless their demands are met. There is no “please” from these potential vandals, simply an order to comply–or pay the consequences.

Cute holiday, huh?

According to Celtic tradition “All Hallow’s Evening” (shortened centuries ago to ‘hallowe’en’) is the end of the ‘dark half’ of the year and the one night during which the separation of the two worlds–the natural and the supernatural–is thinnest and when hostile spiritual beings like ghosts and goblins are free to roam the earth and interact with mankind in mostly violent fashion. If there was any night of the year when demonic jubilation was strongest, as the tradition holds, it was always found on Halloween.

The Welsh refer to it as “Spirit Night.” Detroit calls it “Hell Night.” Witches refer to it as THE Great Sabbath. Everything associated with it is divination, demonic, evil, death and darkness.

Go back with me twenty centuries to the Upper Room on the “eve” of the Christ’s crucifixion.  Jesus told Judas on that e’en (actually He was addressing the satan who had entered into Judas) that whatever mission he was on, he’d best do “quickly” (John 13:29) because this was the end of the ‘dark half’ when the separation of the two kingdoms was thinnest and the evil one’s final night to do his menacing work.  And the clock was ticking down. Judas bolted from the table and dashed out into the gathering gloom. Verse 30 adds this evocative phrase: “and it was night.”

That single statement paints with bleakened tones and Gothic brushstrokes what was going on in that room that Passover night: Jesus, saddened to see his friend go, the disciples perplexed by recent developments, Judas’ sealing his own doom, the mood suffocating.

“And it was night…”

I believe the night that shrouded the Upper Room was as dark as on that night as when it was actually felt in the Garden after our Original Parent’s rebellion. It was spiritual night, oppressive and hopeless. I can see Messiah staring at the doorway–after his friend–for a few solemn moments.  Then, amazingly, I see Him turn to face the addled expressions of those who remained and draw a meaningful breath. The very next words He utters transcend the somber cloud hanging in the room.

“Now is the Son of Man glorified and the Father glorified in Him!”

In almost a single breath, John’s gospel moves from “it was night” to “Praise God! His Kingdom triumphs over darkness because His Son is its King! Glory!” One can almost hear the gas leaking out of the netherworld’s coming-out party like a deflating balloon at that precise moment…and it continues to this day! There’re no parties in hell no matter what Halloween tradition says.  The satan’s kingdom operates in wrath, not jubilation, angry that the Son is now and forevermore glorified.

Remember that on this last day of October. 

Maybe Linus should come out with this speech on the Peanuts’ Halloween special.

A Word Of Explanation

Seems like I’ve been here before…

(Note January 17th’s post from earlier this year)

…which means we’ve been here together…

…which means: “Lucy! You’ve got some ’splaining’ to do!”

ELEVEN posts all year?  Eleven?!?  That hardly qualifies as blogging, mind you.  So, where ya been…? 

First off, let me give you a list of ten things I’ve NOT been doing:

 

• sitting still (sitting, yes, but not still)
• running a special ops mission in Myanmar
• filming as Stallone’s stunt double in Rocky XVII (not yet anyway)
• throwing back a few with Joe the Plumber
• solving the issue of global warming and why it’s snowing in London and cold in Florida today
• stewarding over the bailout and what monies go to who (whom?) and how much
• genetically reengineering broccoli to taste like cookie dough
• losing weight (I’m pretending cookie dough is really broccoli in disguise)
• thinking the media is NOT actually slanted in Obama’s favor
• blogging (of course you knew that already)

 

I’m okay.  In fact, all is quite well.  I just needed a long sabbatical from this but it has never been far from my heart.  I miss my community.  Darla, your comments are touching.  Thanks for persistently rapping on the door until your knuckles are probably bleeding by now.  We’ve never met, but I imagine you to be a friend that’s true, faithful, and who everyone wishes they had.  God bless you, dear one!

And to all my other readers out there (Jerald, Covenant Bride, Godsgal, et al) who have made this website the best read blog in the history of the universe, just know I “think” I’m ready to start posting again.  I think.  Don’t hold me to it.  ‘Cause, well, we’ve been here before. Then again, you never know.

Oh, who am I kidding? All of you have probably gotten tired of knocking, finding nobody home and gone on with your lives.

See ya next year!