The Olive May Fail

 “Though the fig tree 

may not blossom,

Nor fruit be on the vines;

Though the labor 

of the olive may fail,

And the fields yield no food;

Though the flock 

may be cut off from the fold,

And there be no herd 

in the stalls--

Yet I will rejoice in the LORD,

I will joy 

in the God of my salvation.

The LORD God 

is my strength;

He will make my feet 

like deer’s feet,

And He will make me walk 

on my high hills.”

A number of years ago, at the beginning of a one year time period that was one of our worst years — a time of severe and long-lasting pain for me that held no end in sight — a physically miserable, emotionally devastating year filled with tests and imaging and surgery and a long recovery, I went to a pastors’ wives retreat. At the retreat, the Lord gave me a song. I had not yet walked through what was coming. And I knew I would be walking through something. 

“The joy of the Lord 

will be my strength

I will not falter, 

I will not faint

He is my Shepherd, 

I am not afraid

The joy of the Lord 

is my strength

The joy of the Lord

The joy of the Lord

The joy of the Lord 

is my strength

The joy of the Lord 

will be my strength

He will uphold me 

all of my days

I am surrounded 

by mercy and grace

And the joy of the Lord 

is my strength

The joy of the Lord

The joy of the Lord

The joy of the Lord 

is my strength

The joy of the Lord 

will be my strength

And I will not waiver, 

walking by faith

He will be strong 

to deliver me safe

And the joy of the Lord 

is my strength

The joy of the Lord

The joy of the Lord

The joy of the Lord 

is my strength”

You can be suffering pain, uncertainty, lack of resources, loss of relationships, and so many other miseries AND still be surrounded by His mercy and grace. I did not know if I would physically survive that year. And some days I turned my face to the wall and just laid there, heart open in wordless pain to the Lord. I fretted that my children would be motherless, and my husband widowed. And then I trusted them to Him who loves them better than me. I sat in a chair much of that year. 

And the Lord sustained me. He delivered me. He walked the valley with me, and brought me out again. 

You might think I don’t like hearing that song anymore. But you’d be wrong. 

When I hear it, and when I sing it, I remember how the Lord helped me endure when I couldn’t endure. How He gave me courage and taught me to trust Him when my prayers felt like they fell to the floor. How it isn’t abundant circumstances that give us abundant life. 

The joy of the Lord is my strength.

A Mouse Is Responsible

I came across a news item that began thus:
"A mouse is responsible for triggering a stampede in a mosque 
in the Moroccan city of Casablanca 
which left more than 80 people injured, officials say."
It went on to say, "Worshippers were reported to have fainted 
after a mouse crossed over a woman's foot while she was praying, 
causing her to rush outside and creating panic among worshippers."

We had a mouse problem in a former house.
They had grown bold, and ran right across the living room while we were in it.
One night, my husband was sitting on the floor, and a mouse ran past him.
Without thought, his hand flew at it, and it was knocked out.
In fact, it might have died instantly.
He picked it up by the tail and flushed it down the toilet.
A mouse is a slappable fear.
A flushable fear -- until we let it stampede us.
Because our stampeding can crush real lives.
The stampede was what injured the crowd.
Have you ever been stampeded by a mouse?

I fight fear.
Crippling fear, at times.
Gut-wrenching, knee-shaking fear.
Stampeding fear.
One way I fight it is to let it knock me down,
and then I pray there.
I try swallowing it, sometimes, but it comes back up.
I feel my heart swell and pound,
and my resolve turn to Jello.
And my thoughts race to a bunker filled with organic canned goods
and solar-powered electronics
and books
and gold pieces
and plenty of yarn to knit.
But then what?
I don't want to live in the bunker.
So I drop down again on the weak knees, and let myself say it all there.
All the fears,
and the griefs for things that are someone else's reality that I can't fix.
The distress over world affairs that are so wrong.
They're so, so wrong.
They are sickeningly, damningly wrong.
And the good guys are only half as guilty...

Back to my knees.
Lord, You had mercy on the children in Nineveh.
You were willing to rescue Lot's daughters from Sodom. 
There is no hope in us... but YOU are merciful. 

Peter said things to women that jump out at me and run through my mind:
"...your pure behaviour in fear, 
whose adorning--let it not be that which is outward, 
of plaiting of hair, 
and of putting around of things of gold, 
or of putting on of garments, 
but--the hidden man of the heart, 
in the incorruptible thing of the meek and quiet spirit, 
which is, before God, of great price, 
for thus once also the holy women who did hope on God, 
were adorning themselves, being subject to their own husbands, 
as Sarah was obedient to Abraham, 
calling him `sir,' of whom ye did become daughters, doing good, 
and not fearing any terror."

He mentions faultless behavior in fear,
but then says not fearing any terror.
Not put to flight by fear.
Hmmm.
Perhaps a faultless response to fear 
is not to surround ourselves with gold and garments,
but to stock up on meekness and a quiet spirit.
That's rich currency with God.
Holy women hope on Him.
They dress themselves in obedience.
They do good in the very face of the fear.
And they are not stampeded.

Do The Opposite

Philippians 1:28 tells us not to be 'in any way terrified by our adversaries'.
I read this in a commentary by A.T. Robertson:
"The word 'terrified' means 'startled like a scared horse' 
or 'fluttered like a surprised bird'.
"War horses will stand the booming of cannon 
and the bursting of shells at their feet. 
Some Christians are like scared rabbits. 
They jump and run at the first adversary who says 'Boo!' 
They have no more courage than grasshoppers and shy at every shadow... 
Panic is the worst sort of defeat. It is rout... 
The signal of life or death comes from God, 
not from the fickle crowd at a gladiatorial show." 

Fear is the enemy to fight.
The enemy's tactics throughout the book of Nehemiah 
were concentrated in provoking fear.
Whether it was from declared enemies, or enemies in the guise of friends, 
Nehemiah was urged to act on fear. (Nehemiah 6:10-14) 
But the Lord's purpose 
was that he should continue the task He had given him,
and ignore the voice of the 'prophet' that said, 
"They're coming to kill you, 
and they're coming to kill you by night. Hide!"

In our day, too, sometimes the voices even of other believers 
urge us to fear, to run, and hide.
Let's rather do the work the Lord has given us to do, 
and not be terrified by our adversaries.
Those voices are propaganda, 
and they are attempting to get us to do the enemy's work for him, 
by laying down our tools and abandoning the Lord's work.
Make Satan fight his own battles: don't score victories for him.
The Lord is with us, as long as we are with Him.

A quote from a mother during German occupation of Ukraine to her sons: 
"Whatever they [the Nazis] tell you to do, do the opposite."
She recognized they were the enemy.
The enemy of our souls is not on our side. 
Obeying his voice will not save us from the things we fear.

Soul Sisters

"I had a bad dream last night," she told me.
When she told me what it was, I agreed.
It was a very bad dream.
I asked her to read Psalm 91:1 to me --
a verse that has chased away nightmares in my life.
I suggested she learn it and keep it in her heart.
And she told me that she had awakened her sister in the night,
and that her big sister had prayed with her,
and let her fall asleep in her bed with her.
Oh, how good and pleasant it is when sisters dwell together in unity.
I am so blessed to have my daughters ministering to each others' needs.

Food for the Hungry

He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High 
shall abide in the shadow of the Almighty.

I read it in my news feed this morning, shared by a friend.
It's one of those verses that marked a turning point in my life.
I remember the night I read it so many years ago.
I woke up from a nightmare that night, and it came to my rescue.
The Word came in, and the fear went out.
I said it, and the darkness fled.

I have asthma.
Some seasons the asthma is worse,
and I use an inhaler to release the squeezing of my lungs.
Reading that verse this morning felt like Albuterol to my spirit.
I breathed it in, and the squeezing released.
Oh, I love His Word.
Medicine to my soul, food for the hungry.

Thank You, Father, for the balm that You give us,
for the remedy to our spiritual ailments.
Thank You for the water You give to the thirsty,
for the growth that You bring when we take You in.

In The Multitude of My Anxieties

"Unless the Lord had been my help,
my soul would soon have settled in silence.
If I say, 'My foot slips,'
Your mercy, O Lord, will hold me up.
In the multitude of my anxieties within me,
Your comforts delight my soul."
~Psalm 94:17-19

As a child, I loved flying.
In fact, I loved it until September 11, 2001.
My anxiety increased with each trip taken after that.
In 2010 I stopped flying
when the Obama administration
instituted its new security measures against even innocent American citizens.
Since then, I have taken some long car drives,
and even a long train trip (which I recommend heartily).

But earlier this month, we were asked to come out
and be introduced to the church.
It was an internal wrestling match for me.
I intended to send my husband alone, and stay behind.
I am that courageous.

Some of you fly without anxiety, I suppose.
Perhaps being irradiated in the name of security doesn't bother you.
Perhaps being pulled out for additional screening
every time you've flown (save one) since 2003 doesn't disturb you.
But it has disturbed me.
Maybe you don't mind surly blue-shirts who question your clothing choices,
look suspiciously at your glasses,
yell at you for not knowing where to stand,
and make your children cry.
But I have minded.

I suppose the turmoil was because I felt I ought to do it,
and had no intention of doing it, regardless.
But I love Jesus, and I want to please Him.
In distress, I prayed about it in spite of my determination.
And after praying about it,
I opened up my Chequebook of Faith devotional and read this:

"'Blessed shalt thou be when thou comest in, 
and blessed shalt thou be when thou goest out' 
(Deuteronomy 28:6)
...I have a good deal of work to do within my own soul; 
oh for a blessing upon it all, 
the blessing of the Lord Jesus, who has promised to abide with me.
I must also go out.
Timidity makes me wish that I could stay within doors, 
and never go into the sinful world again.
But I must go out in my calling,
and I must go out that I may be helpful to my brethren,
and useful to the ungodly...
Oh for a blessing upon my going out this day!
Lord, let me go where Thou leadest,
on Thy errands, under Thy command,
and in the power of Thy Spirit."

I flipped through a book by Oswald Chambers that same day,
one I had not looked at in years.
Its title?
So Send I You.
"The stamp of the saint 
is that you can waive your own rights and obey the Lord Jesus."
I told my husband I would go with him.
Knowing me as he does, he had not insisted.

These anxieties are thorns to me.
Painful, irritating limitations.
Messengers of Satan to torment me.
They slow me, and hurt me.
Handicap me.
And as with Paul, who begged the Lord to remove his thorn,
the Lord answers,
"My grace is all you need.
My power works best in weakness."
They hold me down, and make me weak,
but when I lean on Him to walk through them,
they give me power.

Having opted for a pat down instead of being scanned,
and having encountered a very polite and respectful agent
who did not yell at me or act irritated with me,
I walked through the airport toward our gate.
We weren't in a hurry.

As I looked around,
my eyes fell to rest on a display set up on the way to my gate.
"The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in."
(Psalm 121:8)
There was a Bible open in the display case.
Two verses were highlighted in it.
They happen to be significant ones to me.
"He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High
shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord,
'He is my refuge and my fortress; my God, in Him will I trust.'"
(Psalm 91:1,2)

And He did preserve our going out and our coming in.
Thank You, Father:
in the multitude of my anxieties within me,
Your comforts delight my soul.

Afraid to Eat

Satan is an abusive father.
When we move from darkness to light,
being translated by God's Holy Spirit,
and adopted as sons into His household,
many of us continue to cringe at meals;
to be afraid of our baths.

We're afraid to eat;
afraid to sleep;
afraid to play;
and afraid to be alone with our new Father.
We're afraid to open His gifts.

But our Father in heaven is kind.
He wants to feed us good food.
To give us rest; to afford us pleasure.
To clothe us in glory.
To make us brothers and cared-for children.

We're afraid, but not with reasonable fear.
We fear abuse and neglect and hurt and duty.
We're afraid of being spoken to,
and afraid silence is brooding cruelness.
We are wary of the very One we most ought to trust.

"Who remembered us in our lowly state,
for His mercy endures forever;
and rescued us from our enemies,
for His mercy endures forever...
Oh, give thanks to the God of heaven!
For His mercy endures forever."
~From Psalm 136

My Helper

While I listened to Friday's news,
with shooting in the streets of Boston
between the marathon bombers and the authorities,
and the city locked down,
a reporter offered this advice for parents to comfort children with
who were being exposed to terror in this week's news cycle:
Look for the helpers.
It is Mr. Rogers' advice, and I saw it passed around on Facebook, too.
It seems not much comfort
in the light of people bleeding in the streets, their legs gone,
and parents powerless to save their children.
In the face of horrendous evil, brave kindness seems small:
the courage of those heroes who run to explosions,
who drench themselves in the blood of strangers,
trying to tie in their lifeflow.

But in the face of that bloody fear,
He gives real comfort:
He Himself has said, 'I will never leave you, nor forsake you.'
So that we may boldly say, 'The Lord is my Helper, I will not fear. 
What can man do to me?' (Hebrews 13:5,6)
Maybe that seems like a foolish question after a bombing.
Obviously men can do us harm.
Jesus said, "I tell you, my friends, 
do not be afraid of those who kill the body 
but cannot afterward do anything worse. 
I will show you whom to fear: 
fear God, who, after killing, has the authority to throw into hell. 
Believe me, He is the one you must fear! 
Aren't five sparrows sold for two pennies? 
Yet not one sparrow is forgotten by God. 
Even the hairs of your head have all been counted. 
So do not be afraid;
 you are worth much more than many sparrows!"
(Luke 12:4-7)

Be anxious for nothing, 
but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, 
let your requests be made known to God; 
and the peace of God, which surpasses understanding,
will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

A terrorist can separate you from your body,
but cannot separate you from His love.
Our Lord is risen, and He will raise us.
He has conquered sin and death, and in Him, we are also conquerors.
In His Light, we see Light, though we see the darkness, too.

Every Shaking Knee

How great is the goodness 
You have stored up for those who fear You.
You lavish it on those who come to You for protection,
blessing them before the watching world.
You hide them in the shelter of Your presence, 
safe from those who conspire against them. 
You shelter them in Your presence, 
far from accusing tongues. 
Praise the LORD, 
for He has shown me the wonders of His unfailing love. 
He kept me safe when my city was under attack.  
In panic I cried out, "I am cut off from the LORD!" 
But You heard my cry for mercy 
and answered my call for help. 
Love the LORD, all you godly ones! 
For the LORD protects those who are loyal to Him, 
but He harshly punishes the arrogant. 
So be strong and courageous, 
all you who put your hope in the LORD!  
~Psalm 31:19-24

I love the Psalms. 
They seem written for every kind of panic.
Every kind of fear the righteous face.
Every shaking knee and constricted breath.
And this is the one my eyes fell on this morning.

The Truth From Us

Tossed and tangled by a storm

I have a dark secret.
Some days I wake up and dread floods over me,
and it squeezes my heart,
and churns my stomach,
and twists my mind.
It whispers hateful frights in my ear.
It says I am unloved, and unlovable.
It says they'd all be better off without me.
That I'm an incompetent wife,
a terrible housekeeper,
the wrong mother for my children's needs,
an unwanted friend.

There was a time when every time I walked in my door
and glanced at my answering machine,
and there was no message,
I thought, "No one cares."
Every time.
And if there was a message, I thought, "Somebody wants something."
The Lord brought it to my attention, and made me aware that I had to stop.
He loves me, and saying 'no one cares' is a lie.

The enemy of our souls seeks to steal from, kill and destroy us.
We have an inheritance of light,
but he works to twist our hearts to darkness.
To sink us in depression.
We're afraid to tell the truth about how crushed we feel.
How beaten down, and gasping for breath;
pressed out of measure, and despairing of life.

Jesus is a Man of Sorrows.
He can hear the truth from us,
and shine light into our darkness.

Whatever Things

I had a child tonight whose antics were irritating me immensely.
Again and again I went upstairs to correct and rebuke
and finally shut his door and turned off the lights
because he kept getting up and keeping his brother up.
Within five minutes I heard more action, and prayed for wisdom and gentleness.
Gentleness is not mine by nature.
And parenting makes me feel bankrupt of wisdom often.
Oh, how I need His help.

I climbed the stairs wearily at 11 pm, saw the lights back on, and the doors open.
I went into the sinner's room and said quietly,
"This is outright rebellion. You are in complete defiance of what I asked of you."
He began to cry.
I sat down on his bed.
He apologized for it, but excused it because he was scared.
I told him it was wrong to obey fear and disobey his mom.

I asked him what he was thinking about.
At first it was 'I don't know,' but after a few minutes
he admitted he was thinking about scary things -- monsters and stuff.

And I think the Lord gave me wisdom.
I opened his Bible and turned to Philippians chapter 4.
"Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, 
whatever things are honest, 
whatever things are just, 
whatever things are pure, 
whatever things are lovely, 
whatever things are of good report; 
if there is any virtue, 
and if there is any praise, 
think on these things. 
Those things, which ye have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, do: 
and the God of peace will be with you."
And then I talked to him about practicing those thoughts.

We began with thinking of and saying out loud things that were good -- 'God bringing Seth into my life'.
Lovely? -- 'looking out the window of an airplane and seeing the clouds brush the wings'.
Then I taught him the ABC game.
Naming something about God's character for every letter of the alphabet.
It's just an exercise in taking your thoughts captive. It gives you a framework for meditation.
You might even argue that David did it if you are a reader of Hebrew.
The Psalms several times use alphabetical acrostics.

My son's eyes lit up as he racked his brain for each word. We took turns.
'D' stumped him. I offered him a suggestion: Daddy.
He looked puzzled. "He's our daddy?"
I nodded, smiling. "The Bible says that the Holy Spirit puts it into our hearts to call Him 'Abba, Father'.
'Abba' means 'Daddy.'"

We read more of Philippians 4 together, and it ministered to me, too.
I wish I always seized an opportunity, instead of getting mad.
Maybe that's what redeeming the time is --
grabbing back the cause of anger or irritation or anxiety, and turning it into the right path.
I came downstairs at 11:30 edified and reminded to put my mind on things above,
and the God of peace will be with me.

Not One

This afternoon, my children and I heard a thump on the window and found outside a beautiful gray bird in its last minute or two of life. I picked it up, hoping it was just stunned, and we spoke softly to it, stroking its breast and admiring its beauty. It's been over an hour, and it has grown stiller. I think its neck is broken, and sadly, it won't be flying off again. It lies next to me on a towel in a decorative bird cage as I write this. So seemingly pointless. We weren't sure what it was, so we examined its markings and looked it up. I think it's a tufted titmouse.

I find myself thinking of what Jesus said to His friends:

"Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul;
rather be afraid of God, who can destroy both body and soul in hell.
For only a penny you can buy two sparrows,
yet not one sparrow falls to the ground without your Father's consent.
As for you, even the hairs of your head have all been counted.
So do not be afraid; you are worth much more than many sparrows!"
~Matthew 10:28-31

My Father knows the loss of this little bird who enriches no one's life. Who makes no one grieve but us, and only because we knew of it. If he had fallen in the woods, we would not care. Every delicate feather and subtle marking is known by Him, although we have to examine them to recognize his species. And He says not to be afraid -- He's counted our hairs.

"Precious in the sight of Jehovah is the death of his saints."
~Psalm 116:15

How Is It?

"Why are you so fearful?" Jesus asked His disciples.
"How is it that you have no faith?"

They were afraid of drowning when they had the Author of Life sleeping beside them.
The very One who breathed life into Adam.
And they were afraid they wouldn't be able to breathe.
I am sure you understand, because I bet you're afraid, too.

Jesus said, "I am the resurrection, and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live."
When the Resurrection and the Life says, 'You shall live,' why are you so fearful?

And Faith Eats, Too.

I've been thinking a lot about Elijah lately. In obedience to the Lord, Elijah gave the king a message: "You're not getting any rain or dew these years unless I say so." (You can read this story for yourself in 1 Kings 17.)

Then the Lord tells him to flee -- sends him to a brook to drink the water and receive charity from birds. Relying on the charity of birds doesn't sound like a responsible plan. And then the brook dried up because there was no rain -- at his word.

When the brook dried up, the Lord told him to go to Sidon (Lebanon). "See, I have commanded a widow there to provide for you."

A widow? That pretty much guaranteed poverty and want. But Elijah went and found her. She was gathering sticks. Her son must have been very young, or he would have been gathering the sticks. When he asks her for some bread, she answers with reference to the Lord, the Living God -- and explains that she is making the last meal for herself and her son. They plan to eat it and die. All she had was a handful of flour and a drizzle of oil.

Doesn't that excite you? God chose a woman on the edge of starvation to 'provide' for His prophet. In a way, though, He chose to provide for a woman on the edge of starvation through His prophet. Here's this woman with some knowledge of the Living God, and nothing in the bank, and one pathetic meal's worth of food, and God says she's appointed to provide. The prophet tells her to give him a little first, and that God said her bin of flour would not run out, and her oil would not run dry until the Lord sent rain. And she believed him.

I wonder what would have happened if she had said 'no'. She would have starved, I think -- and her son. But the prophet would have been provided for through some other widow.

I think every time she opened that jar and looked inside, it looked nearly empty. I think every time she went to cook it was an act of faith. And every time she ate, it was food from nothing. The Bible says, "The just shall live by faith." And: "we walk by faith and not by sight."

Sight says to go to the land where His name is known, find the richest, most powerful religious leader in that town, and make your appeal. It does not say to go find a Lebanese widow with NOTHING and ask her to be your hostess.

Sight takes water from cisterns -- planned in advance, filled by careful engineering, and guarded over seasons. And it toils to bring forth a harvest of grain, to grind it, to store it, to ration it, to hoard it.

Faith takes water from the Rock and bread from the desert. Faith reaches into the jar and pours out the 'last' drop of oil, and hands it to someone else. And Faith eats, too.

Fear and Faith and the Price of Oil

My heart nearly stopped when I opened the mail and saw our new budget plan for oil and propane this year. It had gone up an additional $140 from last year per month. (It was already high.) It's now $10 less than our first house payment, which was only bought six and one-half years ago. I resorted to Lamaze breathing all day long every time I thought of it. I keep reminding myself that the Lord cares for me, and He is not limited by price. We must trust Him, because He is trustworthy, and He has never failed us yet.

I was fretting about a lack of money about 12 years ago. My dear friend Matthew said to me in his Texas drawl (in response to my "But it's $___!!"), "He has a lot more than that, y'know. My Father owns the cattle on a thousand hills." I've thought of it often over the years.

Our Father is the One who multiplied the loaves and fishes, who caused the widow's oil and flour to never run dry, and of whom it is said, "Cast all your cares on Him, because He cares for you." "Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, make your requests known unto God. And the peace of God, which passes understanding will keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."

I came across this verse out of Deuteronomy 8 as I pondered my needs and God's ability to meet them: "He humbled you and made you hungry; then He fed you on manna." Later in the chapter, it says clearly that His purpose was to do them good. God's purpose is to do us good. To feed us manna, instead of the bread that results from our work.

Why is that humbling? Because I can't do it. Because I need Him. Because it makes me a beggar of God. Jesus said we have to have faith like a child. A child has to ask for its needs to be met. A child can't reach the shelf the cups are stored on. If my children are thirsty, they have to let me know. They can't walk in so self-sufficiently to the kitchen, get their own drinks, and move on with their own plans in life. They don't have life insurance policies and 401k's and savings accounts. They have a father. They have to just be children, and Daddy will feed them.

The daughters of multimillionaires do not concern themselves with the price of oil or of food. It doesn't matter to them, 'cause Daddy's rich. My Daddy pays the bills, and I just need to remember it. And if Daddy pays my bills, it's a lot easier to not hold so tightly to the money in my hands. (If it's not my money, I spend it much more freely.) We needed something to lean harder on Jesus for. It always keeps us closer.

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen."

Anxious Prayer

I choke my prayer out,
gag my fear,
and catch my breath for you.
I force myself to
take a step
and brave-faced, walk in hope.
But in my heart I
choke and gag,
and I still hold my breath.