Living by the Sword

"Aren't you afraid to be in the prison with all those dangerous women?" my neighbor asked.  "Do you have to be around any serial killers?"

The truth is that I am safer behind prison walls than I am on the highway or walking around downtown. My movements are on security video. I carry a body alarm. My husband carries a two-way radio. Armed prison guards would immediately be available if a situation was dangerous.

Prisoners we meet in the chapel have murder, child abuse, prostitution, rape and drug crimes in their pasts.  They look like any other group of women, except for the way they're dressed. With hands clapping and feet dancing as they sing, they sound like any other group of women praising God. Leaning in to hear my teaching, they take notes and ask questions, diligent in their study of God's Word.

They are not dangerous women because of their crimes. They are dangerous women because they are Jesus Followers, because they are becoming women after God's own heart.  They dare to be the hands and feet of Jesus in a fallen world.

Sierra, a Jesus Follower in prison, grips my hand as she tells me her story. She will die inside the prison walls. Society has rightly sentenced her to multiple life sentences. She smiles through tears of compassion for her fellow prisoners, women who live in darkness, slaves to their sins and wrong choices.

"There is so much power in God's love! I'm much more dangerous with my Bible sword than I ever was with a gun or knife. Satan should be afraid. Very, Very afraid."

Satan is indeed afraid. He knows his time is almost up. He holds no power over the truly dangerous woman, the princess-soldier who lives courage, gives wise counsel and goes about doing good. His name is defeat and the battle belongs to the Lord.

The most dangerous women in the world write Bible verses on the hearts of children. They act out Bible stories, making it fun to be in Sunday School. Pots of vegetable soup and loaves of fresh baked bread sit on their counters ready to be taken to the sick and weary. They have time to listen, to bind up the brokenhearted, to stretch loving arms to the needy and to change the course of history with their prayers.

They wage war on selfishness, divorce, abortion and cruelty. Dangerous women send notes to young wives encouraging them to love their husbands and children.  They babysit for young moms when rest becomes long overdue. They care for the widows, the orphans, the homeless. Dangerous women counsel alongside the Holy Spirit. They love people deeply from their hearts, changing the world one step at a time.

Just how dangerous are you? Got your sword in hand?

To Cuddle a Sword

My Bible is falling apart.

Steve, a friend who is my very heart, has walked alongside me through enough years to know from experience my love for the Word of God. He chuckles and shakes his head appreciatively at my Bible. Pages fall out, many are worn from use during reading, studying, counseling and teaching. Trips to nursing homes, prison, children's homes and churches through the decades have left their marks and scars. Tea stains, coffee stains, tear stains and spit-up stains have shaded the pages as much as my various colors of notes.

Children have listened to stories from my Bible. Unbelievers have heard answers to their questions. Young women have listened to me read it. Long nights have been spent with it wrapped in my arms as I prayed. Touching it brings comfort and strength before I ever open it. I don't feel fully dressed without it nearby.

When she was six, Carolanne, sitting beside me at church where we shared my Bible whispered, "I love your Bible. The pages are soft and I can cuddle them." I want her to cuddle my sword, but, more than that, I want her trained to use her own sword.

And take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. (Ephesians 6:17)

The Word of God, the Bible, my Sword, is my most precious tangible possession. It looks raggedy and worn, scarred and torn, but don't let that fool you. It makes me powerful, wise, courageous and equipped for every good work. It has the power to take down looming evil dragons and swat baby dragons aside.

The Word of God is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing as far as the division of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. (Hebrews 4:12)

Train yourself to use your sword in joy and in sorrow. Practice using it in the easy, in the hard. Study to show yourself as an unashamed soldier, rightly dividing the Word of Truth. Step out of the noise and fray to read it. Memorize it. Meditate on it. Set aside time to know your sword and train yourself to use it.

A soldier-princess learns very quickly that she will never completely understand and master her sword, but she doesn't need to be a master to pick up her sword and use it. She is equipped by the power of the Holy Spirit. She is trained daily in the easy yoke walking and working alongside Jesus. Love the Word of God, soldier-princess. Be more familiar with it than anything else you own, even your cell phone.

What are you doing to train yourself to use your sword?

Consider the Woodpecker

Every morning, a red-headed woodpecker tries to drill a hole in the corner of my house, a house not made of wood.

For over a year I have watched him grow in boldness and diligence, drilling holes in each of our trees. He's beautiful, smart, unique, funny.

Lately, he is determined to change the unchangeable. He is consistent, but he is wrong. No matter how loud or angry he becomes, his efforts are wasted. No matter how much he wants to change his circumstances, his time is wasted.

"Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven." -Matthew 5:16 

Consider your ways. Search your heart.

What hinders you from shining God's light in a dark world? Are you taking every thought captive, every attitude, every habit, and making it obedient to Christ?

Abide in Me and you will bear much fruit.

The God Who Burdens

"Sometimes I'm so afraid," Liza whispered. "I'm a Christian. I'm supposed to have faith and joy and peace. Well, I don't, so what does that mean? What am I supposed to do? Keep on pretending?"

I have seen the burden God has laid on men.  He has made everything beautiful in its time.  He has also set eternity in the hearts of men;  yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. (Ecclesiastes 3:10-11)

Who is this God who laid such burden on us? What is beautiful about God's people living bloody, broken, confused and afraid? Can we trust a merciful, loving God when we cannot fathom what in the world He is doing?

Like a jar of river water all shaken up, the burdens of our noisy, demanding circumstances swirl around us. The world is reeling out of control, a tornado of hopelessness and conflict. As the chaos and mud sling us about, the turmoil grows. Our vision is lost. Our voices add to the clutter.

A jar of shaken sediment settles only when it is still. So, also, God waits for us to be still before He whispers to us.

I must be still for the sediment in my life to settle and my mind to become clear. Good decisions come from stepping out of the whirlwind of clutter in our lives so we can hear the voice of truth. Only in quietness and trust will we find our strength.

Be still and know that I am God.

 

A God for Emersyn

The ending of the story was already written. A carefully formed nest lay fallen from my redbud tree, beside it a shiny, turquoise egg. A frail, broken, newborn robin lay on the cold, rain-soaked ground, abandoned, apparently forgotten. Heartbeats pulsed visibly beneath translucent pink skin, slowing as the bird blindly twisted his body, hopelessly fighting for life. I held the bird in my hands, powerless to save it, yet comforted to know the truth as I placed it beneath the soft, green Lamb's Ear leaves. The God who created this bird sees every moment of its life. It is tenderly loved.

Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? - Matthew 6:2

A fragile, newborn Christian is entering a life of faith this week. I accidentally gave her a wrong phone number for my cell. I've been concerned because, while she can email me, I'm not as immediately available to her as I had hoped. She's a survivor of a cold, pain-soaked life and I feel powerless as I wait to hear from her. It comforts me as I realize she knows the truth. The God who created her sees every moment of her life. She is tenderly loved.

There is a God who sees and is available always. There is a God who is able to do more than we ask or imagine He can do. There is a God who loves with an everlasting love.


Emersyn was born into our family this week, and, after months of waiting, she has arrived wrapped in warmth, safe from the storms of life and cherished beyond measure. Her body was covered with prayer multiple times daily as God knit her together in my niece's womb. As her story unfolds, I know Emersyn will have disappointments, pain and losses. It comforts me as I realize she will know the truth. The God who created her sees every moment of her life. She is tenderly loved.

The ending of your story is not yet written. Pain and disappointment may have left you broken. You may feel abandoned, apparently forgotten. The God who sees you every moment of your life Is available to wrap you in warmth and hold you in His hands, safe from the storms of life. You are worth more than you realize, cherished beyond measure. You are tenderly loved.

I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have tenderly held you with compassion. -Jeremiah 31:3

Running Alongside Samantha

Her world seems small. Face down, giving total focus to each painful step, my neighbor inched her walker along the street.

I was caught slumping wearily in the lawn chair debating whether to go for a run. Was it too hot? Was I too tired? Did I do enough yesterday to give me a pass today?

Samantha. pausing to rest, looked up. Her face glowed from sweat, but she grinned and waved. I smiled and waved back, walking toward her for a short visit.

"Hi, neighbor," she greeted me. "I can't believe I walked this far today. Just had to enjoy the sunshine before I spend my day at rehab."

Freedom. Peace. Joy. We wrongly assume those depend on circumstances. If life looks the way we hoped, joy overflows. I'm so blessed, we say, overcome with a delightful peace. I got the job! I got past my sickness. Good news has come! God has answered my prayer the way I wanted! I'm so grateful!

That's living in a small world, a world where we can see and understand. We feel worthy because we are given what we value. We live gratitude because God offers a season of refreshing ease.

Walking by faith is also sweating from the hard work of inching our way along, face down, focused on each scary step. It's ignoring the excuses and drama and difficulties to view our circumstances through God's eyes. We try to squeeze a big God into our small world, our small, human minds because our life looks too hard.

"Do you have time to walk me home?" Samantha asked. "It would really be a gift to me. I'm tired. The road didn't look this far when I started out. I'm afraid I might not make it home without falling. It won't seem as far if you're encouraging me."

Walking by faith is knowing our life journey can be harder than expected. We may not make it home without falling. We may view our circumstances as failure, but it's in the brokenness that our world grows larger, our eyes see more clearly what God values.

The journey for someone else won't seem as far if we are alongside to encourage. We can proclaim freedom to those in prison. We can bring joy to those that mourn and peace to those who are afraid.

"Thanks!" Samantha yelled as I jogged away, looking forward to my run. "You got this!"

Commit your works to the King, soldier-princess, and your plans, will be established. Your God is bigger than you think.

Stuck at the Recital

Luke finished playing the theme to James Bond, then to the crowd's delight, he transitioned into the jazz rendition he had created. The crowd clapped, cheering him onward as he stood from the piano and returned to his chair.

I was thrilled for him. He had worked hard on his music, honed his gift over the months and seen the results of an excellent performance. A piano recital can be stressful for young pianists as well as a teacher. I was proud of Luke for his example of excellence. I knew his performance would inspire and encourage my younger students.

Later in the program, Luke returned to the piano for his final performance of the afternoon. He had learned to play the music from "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" through diligent work. I had heard him play it flawlessly several times during rehearsals, but midway through the music his mind went blank. His eyes widened with surprise and he glanced at me for help.

I smiled and gave an encouraging nod. My students know what to do when they stumble or feel lost. I knew Luke would hear my unspoken words.   "Go to where you know what to play. You can always start over."

For seconds in the silence, Luke's hands were still, paused over the piano keys. Then his trained fingers played the beautiful music he was able to remember, the last few measures. He grinned at me. It was only the ending, but it was played with excellence. He had remembered what to do when he gets stuck and he had finished by giving his best effort.

More important than the learning of music, I want my students to grasp hold of the life skills I am able to teach them along the way. Perhaps nothing I teach Luke will ever be as important as the lesson he has learned this week:

It doesn't matter what happened in the past, how you started out. You can always start over. It only matters that you finish well.

Well done, my good and faithful student.