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.

 

My Mother's Home

After many years of living and traveling in a motor home, my parents have moved into a home made for solid ground. It's easier for them while my father is traveling through a battle with cancer. 

"Your mom must be so glad to finally have a home," a friend shared. I laughed.

This friend does not know my parents. My mother's home is wherever my father is. Being together is home. Camping out, staying in a motel, visiting children or grandchildren, or in the snowbird park where they winter, they always feel right at home.

Together my parents built a home out on the farm and changed their world one person at a time, one day at a time, for over fifty years. Long after the house and land were sold, their life of adventure, serving God's purposes, has continued.

A bag of grapes and some homemade cookies in the cooler, shared memories, old family sayings and routines combine to set up a temporary home wherever they have traveled. The familiar keeps them comfortable, peaceful, ready for different circumstances and enjoying people. They like to be together on a new adventure.

A homeless man in our city frequents a corner on the route to my house.  If no cars are behind me, I usually talk to him for a few minutes. He always grins and waves at me. He plans to be traveling on soon, but for a little while, this is his home. He makes a fairly good living here, but he hopes to go where it's warmer.

I know a lady who never slept in a bed until in her thirties when she went to prison. She travels in and out of the prison system and I'm always glad to see her. I welcome the opportunity to remind her she is loved, to caution her about taking her medicines, to guide her feet back to solid ground. "I'm home," she will say as she walks into the prison chapel. She likes to be where it's safe, where she's loved.

"This world is not my home. I'm just a passin' through." My family used to sing the old gospel song on stage after stage as we traveled around during my childhood. The song is engraved on my heart and when life gets troublesome, the words are a reminder that wherever my heavenly Father is, that is home. He is my strong tower, my refuge, my solid ground.

"Softly and tenderly, Jesus is calling, calling for you and for me. See on the portals, He's waiting and watching, watching for you and for me. Come home. Come home. Ye who are weary, come home."

The God Who Whispers

"It's impossible to know for sure if there's a God, and even if there is, I'd be a fool to think I could figure out what he wanted me to do or to be," Kristin tells me.

She is serious, this dear friend. Dead wrong and dead serious.

People who doubt God's presence tend to be ones who want a shout of proof from God, bold evidence of his presence and purpose.

Living life in a whirlwind of activity and fray will produce weariness, even desperation, but not assurance of God's presence and will. God does not shout over the whirlwind. He whispers in the silence.

It's tempting to ask God to speak loudly from the heavens and make Himself known to doubters. Perhaps open up the sky and show the throne room or say again: This is My Beloved Son and I am pleased with Him. Or maybe send down a fireball to light up a water-logged altar. Shake people in their boots a bit.

Until the final day when the trumpets sound, the clouds part and Jesus returns victorious, there is nothing left to prove, nothing left for God to shout.

He has much that He wants to whisper.

Come, I will give you rest.  

My yoke is easy and My burdens are light.  

I know the plans I have for you, plans to give you a future and a hope.

He has much that He wants to say to us.

Call to Me. 

I will tell you wonderful things that you do not know.

He has much that He wants to sing.

My everlasting love is deeper than the sea.

God is not going to shout over the whirlwind so that Kristin believes that He is real and has a plan for her. He is whispering to her, though.

Be still and know that I am God.

I ache in prayer for Kristin. God is there and He is not silent.

A lost lamb does not hear the voice of the shepherd over the noise of the storm, but in the devastating aftermath, exhausted and wounded, comforting words whisper into the silence

When all else fails we are more likely to look up, to see clearly, to listen. I pray it doesn't take a calamity for Kristin to be still and listen to the God who waits to rescue her.

I know My sheep and My sheep hear My voice and they follow Me.

Sleeping with the Enemy

"I'm starting to believe God doesn't care about me. I pray and pray, beg and beg and my prayers just aren't getting through, Why would he keep saying 'no' over and over to me when I'm so miserable?" a friend asked me.

"You aren't miserable all the time," I said gently. "Sometimes you're enjoying your life.  This new guy friend, for example."

"True. He's so mature and caring. I really do like him. But I mean the big things in my life. Any attention from God would be better than this...nothing."

I paused to talk silently with the God who is there, but sometimes turns away from his children.

"Just say it," she urged, shaking her head. "You obviously know something I don't."

"You're sleeping with the enemy," I answered. "Everywhere you go, the Holy Spirit goes with you. Every minute you spend sleeping with a man who is not your husband, the Holy Spirit, Jesus, is with you in that bed. Perhaps He isn't enjoying it as much as you are."

"Gross! Don't say that!" she argued, covering her face, but I continued.

"Take My yoke upon you. That's what Jesus offered. Come to Me if you are weary and I will give you rest. My burden is light. I am gentle, humble of heart. It's truth, but it doesn't mean His love is blind."

"My burden isn't so light these days," she said. "But I really like this guy. I don't want to give him up. Besides, maybe he'll become a Christian and maybe the future will work out okay."

"You are choosing an unequal yoke with an unbeliever, a yoke of slavery to the evil one, even though Jesus set you free. Could it be that God has grown weary of sleeping with the enemy? He is faithful even when you are faithless, but you can't blame Him for turning His face away, for not wanting to watch.

It's tempting to play around with the enemy, my darling. I play around with the enemy, too. I sometimes eat foods that are bad for me, hurting my body and making me miserable. Picnicking with the enemy.

I play with the enemy, nursing my grudges and disappointments even though it hardens my heart. Chatting with the enemy.

The evil one offers a yoke of slavery. You can weigh yourself down with more than one yoke at a time, tied to Jesus with one arm and hooked up to the evil one at the same time."

Know the truth. It will set you free. The rich young ruler turned away from Jesus because of his riches, that one thing that he would not give up. It may be fun to sleep with the enemy. It may even be a delicious escape from temporary troubles.

Do not be deceived. God is not mocked. Whatever you sow, that you will also reap. You cannot serve both God and the evil one. Do not be unequally yoked.

Soldier-Princess Gratitude

For every lost dream that crushed my heart because You dreamed bigger for me, thank You.

For every broken road that brought confusion, anger, doubt and fear, thank You.

For every night I lay prostrate before the throne pleading and You silently waited, thank You.

For swinging a wrecking ball into my heart for noble purpose, thank You.

For allowing what You hate to accomplish what You love in my life, thank You.

For watching me choose a pit over shady green pastures and never leaving my side, thank You.

For hearing my mocking voice among the scoffers and enduring the cross anyway, thank You.

"This is who asks us to trust him when he calls on us to suffer." -Joni Eareckson Tada, When God Weeps"

Consider it all joy.  Consider it all grace. 

Enough Time

Tears of frustration pooled in Mattie's eyes. Lifting her small hands off the piano keys to cover her face, she said in a muffled voice, "I can't do it, Teacher. It's too hard."

"But you love this song and you want to learn it," I reminded her. "You will definitely be able to play this song when you are 80 years old."

She moved her hands to smile at me. "I'm only eight."

"Then we have enough time to learn it little bit by little bit, don't we?"

God says, "Be holy as I am holy" and "Forgive one another as I have forgiven you" and "Love one another as I have loved you". If we don't hear the mercy of a Savior and the patience of a Father in His voice, we can be frustrated to tears.

"I can't do it, God. It's too hard."

Nothing happens as fast as we think it will so we need not be disheartened. To God a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years is like a day. The Author of our faith sees all the way to the end result.

Mattie first learns to love the song. The rules of technique and skill are learned little bit by little bit through practice, but her motivation is loving the song.

Our motivation for spiritual growth comes with peace, hope and delight when we read the Bible to know and love the heart of God. We can trust Him because He has a plan and a vision for teaching us.

Reading the Bible as a set of rules to follow will bring heartbreak and discouragement. The skills and techniques of a mature Christian are learned through practice, little bit by little bit.

My days are numbered by Him. My times are in His hands. The Author and Finisher of my faith is not pressured for time.

Grace Splashed My Skirt

Hurrying to accomplish much this morning, I grabbed the wrong spray bottle to treat a spot on my favorite skirt. 

Moments earlier, a soft voice had whispered through my fatigue: Storing Clorox Bleach Kitchen Spray next to the Spray and Wash Stain Removal for clothes is foolish. I thanked God for the reminder and planned to finish the laundry then rearrange my shelves more wisely.

As I realized my error, I burst into frustrated tears and instant begging that God would make this awful disappointment go away. How could I have failed to listen to His warning and immediately obey?  How could I be so careless with something so precious to me? Why did I never learn my lessons to slow down?

As my skirt hangs on the drying rack God has once again somehow cleared away my disappointment.Oh, the skirt may be ruined. I won't know until it dries. 

But God cleared away my disappointment by reminding me to slow down and live my life awake to His presence even in the frazzles of daily life.  Maybe He has removed the problem and my skirt is not ruined. Maybe He will provide a different skirt that is in my new smaller size, a skirt that fits me and is as versatile, cute and comfortable.

Either outcome, the good news is that my Father loves me with personal everlasting love.  My times are in His hands, every ordinary day of my extraordinary life.  Grace like rain splashes all around me.  All I have to do is open my eyes and see.

Johnathan and the Walker's High

"Stop worrying about how much you're accomplishing," my friend Karen told me thirty years ago.  "You'll get done what you get done."

Good advice from one new mother to another. Three decades later, I still pray daily: "Lord, keep me awake to my moments. Teach me to number my days right that I may become wise. Teach me to see with Your eyes."

It's called a "runner's high", but like many runners, I find the "walker's high" to be much less illusive.  The end of a run often leaves me feeling depleted, exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally. It takes whole body sacrifice to finish with a personal best excellence. Walking the same distance leaves me refreshed, weary but strong. I am renewed, bubbling with creativity, goals and new insights...a "walker's high".

Johnathan tugs on my finger pulling me from my water bottle back toward the street. I have finished my housework and clocked a six mile run this morning, but he is only beginning his day..I am wearing a slow tired smile.  He is bursting with the pure joy of being awake. Four small steps and he drops my finger to study a zinnia. He notices the neighbor, pats a tree encouraging it to grow, talks to the sun, stops to hug me. He sees the pond, pulls me onward, intrigued by each new sight on the way. One wonder at a time, he shows me life through his eyes.

Suddenly he stops splashing his hand in a water puddle.  Big blue eyes widen and he shrieks with laughter.  The sky music he has enjoyed all his life is coming from these delightful creatures called birds! For several minutes he stands with hands swinging in pure joy at such wonder-filled accomplishment. God has made a bird that sings!

Noise and fray dwell where we run our life journey. Distractions await us around every corner. Exhaustion overwhelms us mentally, physically and emotionally when we take our eyes off the goal. Disappointment slides into discouragement. We consider easier trails and can be tempted to give up. We fail to notice a neighbor, to talk to the Son or encourage a young sapling tree trying to grow in difficult soil.

Walking with Jesus is training me to live awake in each moment, to see the world through His eyes, one wonder at a time. There is a difference between what I want to accomplish and what God wants to accomplish in me and through me.

As I am writing this post, Johnathan stops running to and fro testing his limits and exploring the world around him. He crawls onto my lap, snuggles into a comfortable spot to sit awhile, watching closely to see what I am doing.

He leans back against my heart and with a pudgy little hand quietly pats my arm. I change the structure of a sentence by deleting with one touch of a button. Part of this post is erased, gone in a flash of bright blue.

Laughing with amazement at what I have accomplished, he points to my creation and says, "OH! Oh, WOW!"

As I kiss his precious weary head and cuddle him close, I know exactly what I want to accomplish in my life journey..

Wash Feet

Music by Bart Millard, Mercy Me 

Eyes set on earthly things are veiled from things above. Eyes that have not been washed clean by the mercy and compassion of the Father, are blinded to the Word of God.

We are called to one mission: to love people to Jesus.

Many have become militant and loud in their opinions, trying to prove they are right. Having forgotten all about being Christ like, they become self-righteous, judgmental, harsh.

Do we proclaim to be a Jesus-Follower, yet laugh, make jokes, and mock those who believe differently? Do we not realize how extremely unattractive and prideful our words sound to a dying world?

God's Word has washed our eyes clean so we can see the character and heart of God. Jesus, our example, tenderly, patiently, washed feet so that He might teach His disciples truth. He lived kindness, self-control, faithfulness. His love caused Him to go about doing good, speaking truth gently to draw people to Him.

Jesus, our servant-leader, washed eyes and hearts by first washing feet.

Word of God speak. Would You pour down like rain washing our eyes to see Your majesty?

Oh, Father. Teach us to use that rain water, full of grace and mercy, to wash feet, not to sling mud.

Anneliese Meets The King

Photo by Thom Watson, flickr.com

Anneliese considers the brightly colored ornaments on the Christmas tree with wide-eyed amazement. Her heart is filled with hope and joy. Her eyes long to hold this treasure in her hands, to explore it. She reaches out to touch, causing a single ornament to tremble, but the little tree in the corner stands silent, waiting.

Long ago in Bethlehem, a King was born. He was called Immanuel, the with-us-God. He came to earth to seek and save the lost. He came to find His beloved Annaliese.

An old rugged tree stood on a hill, waiting. The King went silently to the tree to die so He could one day rescue His beloved Anneliese.

She smiles at me. And I smile back. Oh, how I smile because I have a secret to share with her. I make a decision and in an instant the Christmas tree in the corner lights up from the inside out.

Someday Anneliese will consider the old rugged tree that stood on a hill.  She will listen to the true story of The King who was born and died so He could save her. She will be wide-eyed with amazement. Her heart will be filled with hope and joy.  Her eyes will long to grasp such a treasure in her hands, to explore it.  Her hands will reach out to touch, causing her soul to tremble.

Anneliese will smile at The King.  And He will smile back. Oh, how He will smile because He has a secret to share with her. He is alive! She will make a decision to love Him and in an instant the King will light her up from the inside out.

And they will live happily ever after, Anneliese and her King, Immanuel, the with-Anneliese-God.

Lauren's Lesson

Jesus is the same yesterday, today and __________.

"Monday!" answered Lauren, a friend's little granddaughter.

It's a good answer, isn't it?

Jesus is real and His acts are recorded in the history logs of yesterday. The Bible has been proven to be truth based on overwhelming evidence. The yesterday is easy.

Today may be a broken road or a skip through the green pastures, but I know Jesus is alive and walking alongside. His creation, power and involvement in my life prove Him over and over again each day. His Words are active and constantly amazing me.

But, forever? That stretches beyond my ability to understand. God is everlasting, eternal. He always was and always is and always will be. I believe it with all of my heart, but it is a thought above my thoughts. It is too marvelous for me.

But, Monday? I understand Monday. In becoming like a little child, I can wrap my mind around "forever". Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever...one Monday at a time.

A Breakfast to Remember

God is bigger today.

We had breakfast together, the Lord and I. Vanilla coffee and farm fresh eggs. Hot biscuits with melting butter and honey. Antique tablecloth and cloth napkins. I love a God who is always faithful. Always shows up before I do. It teaches me to notice Him, keeps me fully awake to His goodness, makes me overflow with joy and gratitude.

After you've been with Jesus awhile, begun to train yourself to be thankful, to thrill in His being sovereign, every year you grow, you find Him bigger. And, sometimes, like for me this morning, you have a sudden realization that His care is not only personal,faithful and good, but big. Huge. Gigantic.

"Wow,"I said aloud to Him. You absolutely blow my mind!" The trees must have clapped their hands. Three squirrels, a garden of flowers, one Monarch butterfly and a hummingbird all heard me say it, saw me raise hands and burst forth into song.

My life song, my masterpiece, the art God is sculpting out of the junk of my life is not that I am fulfilling my calling to become a spiritual mother, that I have spent a lifetime discovering what that means. It is not the 33 years and still counting I have spent on the college campus loving students to Jesus. The opus of my life is the lives whom I have influenced while being available in such a place as this wonderful world.

Even my life song, the masterpiece of my life, is not about what God can do for me or in me, but through me. Even my life song is all about Him.

Soaking up the Sunbeams

I took a break from blogging to seek peace, to pursue God's specific goals for my life. Time spent in shady green pastures soaking up the sunbeams and drinking in the Words of the Good Shepherd have refreshed me indeed.

Sometimes, when we least expect it, the Father of every good and perfect gift surprises us with an overflowing of joy, a deepening of peace and an increase of faith and love that steals our very breath away in its glory and power. While I have rested, He has been working in me, for me and through me. He takes the small offer of myself and creates amazing and beautiful things for me to behold.

I called to Him and He answered me and told me wondrous things that I did not know. (Jeremiah 33:3, God's cell phone number)

God is able to do abundantly more than all we ask or imagine that He can do. He wants our questions, our ponderings, our doubts and concerns. It is from our faith the size of a mustard seed, smidgens of love and handfuls of hope that He does His best work. Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him! How I've proved Him o'er and o'er.

"Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusts in Thee." ~Isaiah 26:3

The God of Strength

Father, I love You.

You are my Strength and my Song. My hope is in You. You are the Rock that I stand on and the Stronghold around me. You are my Deliverer and in You will I trust.

Though the storms of life overwhelm me and the cords of death entangle me I will trust You. Though the darkness surround me and the waves of doubt toss me, I will fight for You. In sorrow and in suffering, I will seek You for counsel and comfort for You are my glory and the lifter of my head.

You have given me clean hands and a new life. You renew me day by day. Your love is my portion and my blessing. I am not worthy of Your attention and yet You have sacrificed for my salvation.

Your ways are perfect and Your Word is flawless. You have given everything I need for life and godliness. You shield me because I take refuge in Your love and mercy.

When I sleep You sing over me with love and goodness. When I awake You give life to my spirit and strength to my body. There is no one like You and You are worthy of my praise. Teach me Your ways, Oh, God, that I might please You in life and in death. Use my days to enrich the lives of others and show them the way to You.

Holy is Your Name and Your Word endures forever! Let Your Name be held high in every nation; Your kingdom come and Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

No God Like Jehovah

You are the Holy One of Israel, Father. You are the true living God.
You are worthy of honor, of sacrifice and of praise.
Mighty and wondrous are Your deeds throughout all generations.
Your splendor decorates the world from glory to glory.

Answer me when I call to you, my righteous God.
Give me relief from my distress. Have mercy on me and hear my prayer.

How long will My people turn my glory into shame?
How long will you love delusions and seek false gods?

I don't know. But You have set me apart to be Your faithful servant, to please You. You hear when I call to You. You know I want to do what is right.

Tremble and do not sin. When you are on your bed, search your heart and be silent. Offer the sacrifices of the righteous and trust Me.

I offer my life in spirit and truth. I will pour out the oil of love as an offering. You are faithful and I trust You.

Fill my heart with joy because I see Your provision. In peace I will lie down and sleep, for You alone, LORD, make me dwell in safety. You alone are my glory and the lifter of my head. You alone are the God who is holy.

There is no God like Jehovah. I am jealous for you.

There is no God like Jehovah. I will be jealous for You.

Under Enemy Fire

Oh, Lord, how my enemies have increased!
They are unseen, but I hear them taunt me. They are bent on destruction.
They speak to my very soul.
"You'll never be pure in heart." "You aren't lovable."
"You'll never make it." "Loser." "Weak." "Helpless."
They aim for me. They are like tanks, strategically placed.
War is declared and I am the battlefield.

But, You, Oh, Lord, are a shield around me.
Your favor and love protect me.
You are my glory and the lifter of my head.
You are the One who is mighty to save.

I cry to you with pleadings and fears.
You answer me from high on Your holy mountain.
You are the God who calls me to You.

You quiet me with your love. Tenderly You hold me.
You comfort me with your singing.
You sustain me. Even in sleep, You are there.
When I awake Your voice is the first I hear.

I will not be afraid of ten thousand enemies who surround me.
You are the God who sees me. You are the God who answers me.
You are the God who is able to protect me.

I am the apple of your eye.
I am your bride.
You have the power to save, the desire to save.
Salvation belongs to You. Victory belongs to You.

Keep blessing Your child with favor. Do not stop being the God who is mine.
You are my King. You are a faithful warrior and a steadfast comforter.
You fight for me and I stand back to hold my peace in battle.
You sing to me and I rest in Your arms.

The Seedling

The sun is shining on me. I am like a seed sprouting after the long, cold winter.

How blessed I am because my growth does not depend on the advice of the wicked. I am not a lone reed broken in the midst of those who trample ruins. I am not a neglected seedling, threatened by those who would pluck me from safety and cast me away.

No, I delight in the words of the Great Gardener!
Like a young plant digs deep into the soil for nourishment, I sink my roots deep into the rich, fertile soil of His Word. Like a young plant reaching toward the sunlight I bask in His warmth and compassion.

I will be like a tree planted by the streams of water.
I will yield strong abundant fruit in each of my seasons.
In whatever I do I will blossom with rich, lush color.

My leaves will not wither and grow dull from lack of attention. I will not shrink from my Gardener or cause Him disappointment and regret. He knows my needs and tenderly cares for me all my days.

He is the Vine and I am the branch.
I am not only connected to Him, but part of Him.

The wicked are not so. They may appear to flourish, but they are rotting from the inside out. They will wither like lifeless plants the wind blows away. They who blight the glory of the garden will perish.

The Great Gardener will complete His garden and cause me to bud, blossom and bear fruit. He created me. He sees me. He will complete His garden around me.

Dance of Joy

I have chosen joy to be my life guiding word. Because it is my name, I have pondered joy since childhood. Not only do I desire to cultivate joy in my life, but I long to share it with others.

Joy bubbles forth from the very heartspring of the Giver of Life. God is the author of joy, the fullness of complete joy. Celebrating His joy motivated Him to share His joy. The Great Joy-Giver came that we might have life, and have it more abundantly. The abundant life is a joyful life.

Joy comes from denying ourselves and bearing up under burdens. It arrives in the midst of pain, sorrow and difficulties, surprising us with its intensity. Unlike happiness which is temporary and dependent on circumstances, joy bubbles forth from the inside out, eternally flowing from the source of joy, God.

When I am weary, God calls me to Him for Sabbath rest. His peace, which passes understanding, floods my heart. As peace soothes away weariness, His joy fills me up and overflows. This wellspring of joy is available to me no matter what may be the circumstances in my life.

His joy splashes over me, drenching me, causing me to dance with pure delight as I keep in step with the Spirit, walking by faith and not sight. I must become less. He must became greater.

Corrie ten Boom explained worry as "a cycle of inefficient thoughts whirling around a center of fear". Wouldn't joy be a cycle of efficient thoughts dancing around the center of life?

"Though you have not seen Him, you love Him; and even though you do not see Him now, you believe in Him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls." ~I Peter 1:8, 9

Jesus Loves Me

Jesus laughed as He scooped up the children when they ran to Him and begged for stories. He knew every name, every wound, where they liked to be tickled and how many hairs were on each head. The children knew of Him from listening to the discussions around them, but Jesus wanted them to know His love. He craved relationship with the children.

He realized that if not watched carefully, young Noah would be tangled in the fish nets. Ornery Hosea would be tossing rocks into the Sea of Galilee and splashing the old people resting on the grassy banks. The children must have called to Him, jumping and waving,"Jesus! Watch THIS!"

When He was pierced by the taunts of Pharisees He surely craved an innocent hug. How He must have laughed when a child dumped a bucket of cool water over His tired feet! Moments with the children were precious in a world of rejection.

He knows the name of Lydia's favorite doll. It matters to Him that Isaiah is struggling with numbers. He notices that Ellie Rose likes His spiders, beetles and dragonflies. He cares that John delights in grasshoppers and watches spider webs.

We are individuals to Him and He finds that endearing. He knows us. And because He knows us, He loves us.

Creating from Nothing

The alarm pierced through restless sleep announcing morning. Crisp autumn breezes have turned to fierce winter winds in a 16 degree world. I dropped an open canister of coffee, burnt my finger making toast and my "to do" list is longer than usual. My arthritic body feels every moment of enjoying yesterday with 15 of my spiritual grandchildren and their parents.

Just between you, me and the gatepost, my delight in Monday mornings is more difficult to find than my research notes which have mysteriously disappeared. The potential for becoming the worst version of myself this morning is huge. Ever been there?

Tonight at the prison I will speak to the women about "The God of Comfort". The title makes Father sound quiet and decidedly quiescent. Why do we think of the God who rested on the seventh day as inactive? Doesn't He sit on the throne watching the world spin? Have you ever assumed that He loves and forgives you, but is rather disappointed in what little gets accomplished? "There, there, good and faithful servant. I'll forgive you for not being perfect. After all, you're only human."

The earth was without form and void. Darkness was on the face of the deep. Out of this nothingness, God created the heavens and the earth. It is Jehovah-God who lives and works within us to accomplish His good purposes. Tough mornings light up that truth like Christmas tree lights. He takes a day when I have nothing to give and works it for his glory. My God is a consuming fire. He is wild. He has thunder in His footsteps and lightning in His fists.

Father. There is nothing in me that is able to accomplish the simplest of tasks on this Monday morning. I know it. You know it. In my weakness, You are made strong. What I am able to do, I will do. You are the God who is able to do more than I ask or imagine that You can do with this day. I want to sign my name to the end of this day knowing that You created something out of nothing.