One Thing We Must Not Bypass

The words were weighty this morning as I read the verses assigned to today's calendar. I began with the Isaiah passage that speaks of the suffering servant. A lamb led to slaughter and a sheep before shearers are just a couple of the images the prophet portrays. We also read words like despised, stricken, wounded, crushed, bruised, oppressed and afflicted. And that was just the prelude to the second reading: John 18-19.  The betrayal, the arrest, the kangaroo courts, the denial, the mockings, the flogging, the nailing .... the death of our Lord Jesus and His burial. Weighty, weighty words that are hard to read ... even harder to comprehend. For a period, all I could do was just sit and let the heaviness have its way.

It is not uncommon to hear people say, "We celebrated Christmas early this year," and I understand what they mean. But when I heard someone say it recently about Easter, it jolted me. How does one celebrate Easter early?

How easy it would be if we could just bypass this day of crucifixion. This "good" Friday. If we could just wave palm branches and shout Hosanna! on one Sunday and sing "Christ the Lord is Risen Today" on the next. If we could bypass the blood and go right to the resurrection. Forego the messy and move to the magnificent. Forget the suffering servant and rejoice in the risen King. Wouldn't that be more ... what shall I say ... comfortable?

But the truth is there would be no salvation without a sacrifice. No empty tomb without an occupied cross. No forgiveness without blood. No Easter without a Friday. No King without a cross.

Feel the weight of that ... and remember this truly IS a Good Friday.

GOOD FRIDAY

Am I a stone, and not a sheep,
     That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy cross,
     To number drop by drop Thy Blood's slow loss,
And yet not weep?

Not so those women loved
     Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee;
     Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly;
Not so the thief was moved;

Not so the Sun and Moon
     Which hid their faces in a starless sky.
     A horror of great darkness at broad noon --
I, only I.

Yet give not o'er
     But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock;
     Greater than Moses, turn and look once more
And smite a rock.
                                             -- Christina Rossetti

Yes, Lord, let it be.

Just an ordinary moment...

May God's Grace and P's Be With You

I'm going to cut to the chase. Prayer is work. And I'm not sure if or when I will ever get it right. If there's even such a thing of mastering prayer. It remains a mystery, for sure. We serve an omnipotent, omniscient God. The great I Am, self-sufficient in every way. Needs nothings. Gives all. And yet He opens up to us this portal called prayer. Like I said, I just can't figure it nor Him out. But then again, if I could, He wouldn't be God. And so I am left with finding my place in it all.

One of the more challenging parts of prayer for me has been learning how to pray for my immediate family. After all, this is my treasure. But what began as just 2 of us has expanded to 9 of us. I have run the gamut of experiments of what works for me and what doesn't. When the children were younger, I would bring each one into my bedroom and pray over them individually before sending them off to school. I have even kept a 3-ring leather notebook with each person and his or her spouse having his or her own section. I sometimes wonder if God tires of our wordiness in prayer. But what has evolved over the last few years and even more recently as I have been using Robert Benson's book, Venite, seems to be what works best in this season of my life.

In my morning prayer, called Lauds, I come to a place in Benson's book that reads, "We offer prayers for all those with whom we share the Journey: For our loved ones, those who have been given to us, and to whom we have been given." I pick up the picture that is always before me as I pray, and I call their names aloud. "Sandy, Charles, Adrianne, Robert, Kristin, Jude, Marynan, Todd."

Of course, God knows their names, but I want to give life to those names and each individual by causing the atmosphere to vibrate with the sound of my voice. And then I slowly and purposely begin to speak God's "P's" over them which I have recorded by their names in the back of my Bible.

Power
Purity
Provision
Protection
Purpose
Prosperity
Presence
Peace

More recently, the list has grown to include:

Promises (Christ Jesus is Yes and Amen)
Providence (His care and guidance)
Pardon (Receiving His total forgiveness)
Patience (To wait for His timing)
Perfection (Maturity and completion)
Perseverance (To run their race)
Possessions (Honor the Lord with them)
Praise (A heart of worship)
Prayer (A life characterized by)
Prophecy (Dreams and visions)
Prudence (Understanding)

I conclude with the words I have written and pasted on the picture: "Establish, O Lord, what You have wrought for us. And may your grace precede and follow us so that we may continually be given to good works." 

"Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy." 

From there I pray for those others who are categorized on the back page of my Bible; those who are near and dear to me as well as those who are facing trials and tests that day ... lifting their names (maybe even your name) in prayer. And as Venite guides me, I end with, "We entrust all who are dear to us to Your never-failing love and care, for this life and the life to come; knowing that You will do for them far more than we can desire or pray for. Amen." 

Yes, Lord. Let it be.

Like I said, this is the season of prayer I'm in right now. A distilling of words. So while I'm at it, may God's grace and P's be with you.

Just an ordinary moment...

Epiphany

I really wish I had begun blogging these next entries when I began using the book -- which was around the first week of December. They might have made more sense that way. Now I will just pick and choose how I will order them and hope my readers can still get a flavor of this wonderful tool.

The name of the book is Venite: A Book of Daily Prayer. My friend Vicki introduced it to me; she was given a copy by our mutual friend Sally, who was actually a student of the author, Robert Benson,  though I use that term loosely as you will see why in the future. I'm not even sure anyone will be interested in what I have to say on the subject. But if my memory serves me correctly, blogging had its origin as being an online diary. So if that remains the case, my entries are just a way for me to keep my own personal record of experiences and thoughts arranged in calendar order. But if you would like, please feel free to join me on my journey.

To use Venite is to join in a very ancient practice of daily prayer. Christian seasons are observed, holy days are remembered, and the liturgical calendar is kept. It's not for everybody, but in this season of my life, it's perfect. I will expound more on all that another time, but for now my thoughts take me to yesterday morning. And the beginning of Epiphany.

In case you are not familiar with the Christian calendar, Advent begins 4 Sundays prior to Christmas, on which we begin celebrating Christmastide. This is where your 12 days of Christmas come in, for on January 6, we move to Epiphany.

Epiphany means "the showing forth" or "the revelation" of Christ in the world. This is when we celebrate the journey of those wise men from the east -- pagan astrologers, I might add, who left what they knew for something very unfamiliar. Something very foreign. Everyone knows what caught their attention: 

O star of wonder, star of night, 

Star with royal beauty bright,

Westward leading, still proceeding,

Guide us to thy perfect Light.

From the known to the unknown with only a mysterious star to guide them, they were compelled to move beyond what they knew to something unexplainable that moved within them. Leaving behind things that were once priorities and personal ambitions, they set off on a physical journey that led them in a new spiritual direction until they found what they were looking for. They saw the child with Mary his mother and they knelt down and paid him homage. These thinkers found themselves out of their cerebral boxes, rejoicing, bowing, kneeling, giving ... and finally, returning home different than when they came.

So maybe you can understand a little bit of my awe on this particular Epiphany morn when I approached my sacred place, a chair pulled up in front of a window in my sunroom, still very dark both inside and out, and finding one lone star unwilling to give way to the approaching light.

Quietly and reverently, I lit my Christ candle, opened Venite, and prayed the recorded prayer:

In the work of Your creation, Almighty God,
     You commanded the Light to shine out of the darkness:
Grant that the light of the gospel of Christ may shine into the hearts of all,
     dispelling the darkness of unbelief, and revealing Your glory in the world.

Amen.

Yes, Lord, let it be ... that we move beyond the norm, beyond the safe, beyond the unbelief, beyond our own safe country ... and worship the one true Light who pierces the darkness.

Just an ordinary moment...

Wait For It

I often rise early and, when weather permits, find my place on the deck just out my back door. However, southern summer mornings can be stifling. "Muggy" is what we call it here in middle Georgia. But so often on those days, just as I would be about to give up and come inside, I would hear, "Wait for it." So I would settle down, and sure enough, there would come this moment when the "muggy" would lift and a change in atmosphere would occur in a matter of seconds. Morning after morning, I came to expect the same pattern: muggy, "Wait for it," cool. Until finally, it was not so much about waiting as it was anticipation.

This past Fall, I found myself sitting on the same deck, same chair, but this time it was dark on the other side of the clock. I had my head thrown back in my Adirondack with my eyes looking at the heavens. It was to be a stellar night for shooting stars. I was out there for what seemed like an eternity, but to no avail. No streaks across the sky. As I was giving up hope of glimpsing such a majestic occurrence and was about to come inside, I heard it again: "Wait for it." And so I sat. Quiet. Still. And just like the cool that replaced the humid summer mornings, I saw a streak across the night sky. And then another. "Wait for it." It became yet another a period of anticipation.

Waiting. It's not an easy task. Some do it better than others. Yet it's something to which God calls each of us. Not once, not twice, but daily -- and even then many times daily. Waiting makes us give into the illusion that we are not in control. God is. That He alone determines when suns rise and meteors fall. And a host of other things that cry, "Wait for it." 

The Hebrew word so often used in the Scriptures for wait is qavah, which means to bind together (like twisting strands when making a rope). It means "to look patiently," "tarry," "hope, expect, look eagerly." When we are told to "wait" on the Lord, we can be assured it's not some perfunctory or cruel hide-and-seek game we are playing with the King of the Universe to come find us. No, He is working behind the scene, in full control, binding things together so that in the fullness of time, He can bring forth that which He has planned for us and the whole of creation. 

The season of Advent is just that: a period of waiting. Of not rushing into the birth of Christ but of anticipating it in such a way that when Christmas morning does come, God has done a work not only in our circumstances but in us. Isn't that what waiting is all about anyway? Of being forced to be still long enough for God to do a work? Thinking back to those mornings and that evening on the deck, God was not going to be rushed in making the sun rise and the atmosphere to change. He was not going to tell the meteors to hurry on their path because I was tired of waiting. No, it was His timing. His work. Not mine. Both in creation and in me.

As I write, we have less than 12 hours left of Advent, this season of waiting. Yet, what really stretches before us is a lifetime of waiting. May we be encouraged to know that as we wait, God is working, binding ... even when we cannot see it nor Him. You can trust Him. So can I. 

BUT when the fullness of time had come, GOD sent His Son... (Galatians 4:4).

If He did not withhold His very own Son from us, will He not also give us all good things? You bet He will. Wait for it.

Just an ordinary moment...

Trick or Treating in Cheshire

Some 16 years ago, my family and I moved to our present home here in Cheshire, a quiet, middle class subdivision that houses about 80 homes. There have been a few changes over the years, but for the most part, it has not been very transient. However, there have been a few new families to move into the area and with that some younger generations. We now have probably around 20 or so small children that can be seen riding their bicycles, being pulled in a wagon or even strolled on weather-permitting evenings. 

Then comes Trick or Treating. 

Several years ago, after an evening of giving out candy, I came in from the front steps and told my husband we must have had several hundred kids come for a "treat." I'm not sure he believed me and so being the good forester he is, the next year he sat on the front steps with his ticker and "ticked" while I handed out candy. The final tally was just shy of 500.

You can only imagine the hole it puts in one's pocket to hand out that much candy. This year, I tallied the pieces in the store and came home with 497 assorted pieces: Reese Cups, Almond Joys, Kit Kats, Snickers, Skittles, etc, not to mention 3 containers of iced sugar cookies for my "special" treaters, hoping that would get me through most of the evening. In the meantime, a young friend came and helped with my duties, bringing her own bag of candy -- 80 pieces worth.  

By the time the night was over, we had 14 Reese Cups left. Yes, that's 14 out of 577! That's a LOT of trick or treaters, people! And that doesn't even count the parents who are strolling the streets, many in their own costumes. I'm not sure how our neighborhood became the go-to on October 31, but it truly has become the destination place for many. 

This year I had the most fun making over some of the cutest little Elsas and batmans you ever did see. There were twin Minnies, a badminton team, puppy dogs and princesses. Blue Man, Ironman, a football player, a cowgirl and even Jake with State Farm, just to name a few, threatened me with a trick if I didn't cough up the candy. 

Superman had flown in while a little nun runs in.

Will McGehee and his badminton team took the trophy for most original and the one that made me laugh the hardest.

From infants in strollers to some old enough to have kids of their own, they came. Golf carts, pick ups with the tail gates down and even trailers filled with hay were not uncommon sights. 

Yes, 500+ little whirlwinds of joy dancing up and down the street to the sound of "Trick or Treat!" It was pure joy.

In the midst of the flurry, a young princess, maybe 2 years old approached my sidekick and me. But it was not she who garnered my attention, but the creature walking up behind her. No question here: it was Frankenstein himself. A HUGE 7+ foot, green monster. I have never seen such a "look-a-like" in my life that wasn't on the Hollywood screen. I'm telling you, this guy had it going on. I gave the little princess her candy and she ran back to her mother ... and then ... she began walking to Frankenstein. I couldn't help but ask, "Isn't she afraid of him?" To which the mother responded as the child lifted her arms and was swooped into the air by this green monster, "Oh, no. She knows that's her daddy in there."

Wow.

Have you ever considered that God can be very scary? Think floods. Plagues. Entire cities going up in flames. Think lion dens and lakes of fire. And quite frankly, I really find a dismembered hand writing a death threat on a wall a little unnerving.

But maybe that's the point. Maybe He wants us to fear Him. 1 Chronicles 16:25 certainly backs that up: For great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised and he is to be feared above all gods.

Fearing God -- respecting Him -- is a very important part of our relationship with Him. But it's not the whole equation. He also wants us to know Him as our Father. I don't know about you, but my earthly father was my protector, my defender, my provider, as well as my disciplinarian. Not only did I "fear" him but he also allayed my fears because he was my daddy. I knew I could trust him. 

And so it is with my heavenly Father -- and with yours. He's scary alright. But His wrath has been poured out at the cross, and now we can run to him with arms wide open because we know our daddy is in there.

Thanks, little princess. That was a mighty powerful sermon you preached.

“The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom; all those who practice it have a good understanding. His praise endures forever!”

Psalm 111:10

Just an ordinary moment...