Abraham Arose Early

'Now it came to pass after these things that God tested Abraham, 

and said to him, Abraham!" 

And he said, "Here I am." 

He said, "Take now your son, 

your only son Isaac, 

whom you love, 

and go to the land of Moriah, 

and offer him there as a burnt offering 

on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you."

So Abraham rose early in the morning and saddled his donkey, 

and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son; 

and he split the wood for the burnt offering, 

and arose and went to the place of which God had told him. 

(Genesis 22:1-3)

Yesterday, as I pondered submission, Abraham came to mind. 

This is the most extreme request made of a man.

Consider how he received it:

with swift, silent obedience.

It's stunning.

Earlier in his life, before the birth of this beloved son, 

Abraham had a remarkable conversation with God.

God came to him, to give him the promise of this son, 

who would be born through his barren wife, Sarah.

'And the LORD said, "Shall I hide from Abraham what I am doing,

since Abraham shall surely become a great and mighty nation, 

and all the nations of the earth shall be blessed in him?

For I have known him, in order that he may command his children 

and his household after him, that they keep the way of the LORD, 

to do righteousness and justice, 

that the LORD may bring to Abraham what He has spoken to him."

And the LORD said, "Because the outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah is great, 

and because their sin is very grave,

I will go down now and see 

whether they have done altogether according to the outcry against it 

that has come to Me; 

and if not, I will know."'

Abraham's response to this announcement is notable.

First, he doesn't launch into his own words in the presence of the other two who were there.

That's interesting to me.

'Then the men turned away from there and went toward Sodom, 

but Abraham still stood before the LORD.

It appears that when they were alone, he appealed to Him with his concerns.

'And Abraham came near and said, 

"Would You also destroy the righteous with the wicked?

Suppose there were fifty righteous within the city; 

would You also destroy the place and not spare it 

for the fifty righteous that were in it?

Far be it from You to do such a thing as this, 

to slay the righteous with the wicked, 

so that the righteous should be as the wicked; 

far be it from You! 

Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?"

God wants Abraham to know His heart, to know His mind.

He wants His character to be known by His friend -- 

that he might pass that knowledge on to his children.

And He brought this announcement as an opportunity to Abraham.

And Abraham rose to it.

The sheer audacity of his bargaining gives me chills every time I read it.

My heart fills, and I love them both:

the Lord, who lets his friend drive a hard bargain with Him;

and the bold but gentle man who keeps pushing for just ten more.

Read on, and learn His nature for yourself. It's in Genesis 18.

'So the LORD went His way as soon as He had finished speaking with Abraham; 

and Abraham returned to his place.'

This is not a man who withheld his requests from the Lord.

On another occasion, when God came to him 

and told him He was his shield, and his great reward,

Abraham immediately responded with,

"What will You give me since I have no heir?"

This man is an intercessor.

He asks for what he wants, and God has already given him his heart's desire, 

though He made him wait long for it.

And the day comes where God asks of him the unthinkable.

But something has happened to Abraham in his long waiting on God.

In his years of holding onto the promised fruitfulness 

that only grew more barren as the years went on.

Imagine watching your wife wither and wither, and your own vigor drain, 

and believing on year after year in spite of it.

And then, beyond all hope, laughter entered their empty arms.

They saw life come from their good-as-dead bodies.

Joy from ashes.

His name finally had a meaning that wasn't a mockery of his dreams.

And God asked him for it.

"Give Me your son,

your only son.

The one you love."

Give Me back the laughter.

And we don't hear a word of protest from Abraham.

Not one word of intercession.

He just gets up early to obey.

Hebrews tells us he offered Isaac by faith, 

concluding that God was able to raise him up, 

even from the dead.

But I think there was also just a quiet trust he had learned 

in all these years of doing business with God.

He trusted HIM.

So much so, that a request for his life's hope, 

and the crowning joy of his years 

was offered with an open hand.

He doesn't have any hesitation 

in giving all his most precious loves into the hands of the Lord.

He knows God is good.

And he knows God is good for every word that He's said to him.

No wonder God loves him so much.

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.

Stars and Sand and Every Hair

Grains of sand and all our hairs.

A friend posted a link to a photograph NASA released
that focused in on one quarter of the Andromeda Galaxy,
which is a very small section of the visible universe to us, here on earth.
It is 2.5 million light years away, and the sharpest photo NASA has.
100 million stars individually recognizable in it.
My son and I watched the video that spanned the photograph.
It took a video to look over the image, because it is a huge image.
Part of the galaxy was so densely starred
that it appeared more light than dark.
"It looks like sand!" my son exclaimed.

"That's an interesting comment," I said,
"because stars and sand
are what God promised Abraham's descendants would be like."

The stars.
Whenever I felt troubled as a teenager,
I would go out in the dark and look up.
So vast.
Innumerable.
It reminded me of how vast God's knowledge and His power are.
How the choreography of the heavens is His handiwork.
How His mind comprehends all these things I cannot fathom.
The heavens declare the glory of God.
He sees the big picture.
Bigger than we have yet comprehended.

Ah, but the sand...
From the vastness of the heavens to the grains of the earth.
Details I'm too big and important to take notice of.
I walk on it.
But I don't get close enough to count it.
The sand touches me, but I don't know it.
Not like that.
I've seen so little of it.
Those things that are so out of my reach,
and the ones that are so easily touchable,
are both unknowable to me,
and intimately known to Him.

Surely if human beings can zoom in
on a galaxy 2.5 million light years away
and recognize individual stars clustered like sand,
He can see me.
I'm a lot bigger than a grain of sand, and He has counted them.

"You comprehend my path and my lying down, 
and are acquainted with all my ways."
I am not even acquainted with all my ways.
I have talked in my sleep and not known it, but according to Psalm 139,
"There is not a word on my tongue, 
but behold, O Lord, You know it altogether."
The sum of His thoughts toward me is more in number than the sand.

"The hairs of your head are all numbered," Jesus said.
"Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul."
Do you need that reminder?
I often do.
Why not fear death?
Because He is Life.
Because He was raised from the dead.
Because connection with Him will raise us, too.
And those who serve and worship darkness and death
cannot snuff out Light and Life,
no matter how many they put to sleep for a little while.

It Wasn't You

"So now it was not you that sent me hither, but God: 
and He hath made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house, 
and a ruler throughout all the land of Egypt."
Genesis 45:8

We forget that God can and will use the sinful actions and animosity of rivals
to further His plan in our lives.
That the angry brother, driven by jealousy,
can still be subject to God's control.
It doesn't excuse the sin to acknowledge the sovereignty.
God moves even through conflict and unhappiness and dysfunctional families.
In every one of the families of the patriarchs, there are issues.
The extra women. Hagar. Zilpah. Bilhah.
There are brothers at war.
Ishmael against Isaac. Esau against Jacob.
The sons of the handmaids against Joseph.

There are favorites played, between wives and between sons.
Marital strife -- even between Isaac and Rebekah,
who had no extras in their marriage.
But the children caused conflict between them.
Years of unsettled wandering and infertility.

And a Promise that did not fail.
A future and a hope that is still working in their children.
Being named the friend of God.  
Governed by God.  
Laughter.  
The father of faith.
The one the nation is named for.

"It was not you who sent me here," Abraham's great-grandson said.
"It was God."

Perhaps he had taken to heart
how God had moved and worked in his great-grandfather's family.
His grandfather's family.
His father's family.
He had moved them through conflict and animosity --
sometimes earned, and sometimes unmerited.
But always directed.

The conniving father-in-law.
The disdainful household help.
The jealous step-brother.
The fighting wives.
The cheating employer.
The murderous brothers.
All of them had been ultimately fitted into the intended will of God
and the Promise He kept promising them.

"And we know that to them that love God 
all things work together for good, 
even to them that are called according to his purpose."
Romans 8:28

That We Might Hear It Later

Flipping through a book on my shelf this morning,
I found notes from something I wrote down about five years ago
on the back of an overdue notice from the library:
"Simon was so convinced of himself, that he couldn't hear the Lord."

I am thankful that the Lord speaks anyway:
that although our self-confidence shuts our ears to truth spoken to us,
He speaks it that we might 'hear' it later,
once we've failed in our estimation of ourselves;
denied Him, and cursed to emphasize our lie;
and run away just as weak and fearful
as all the weaklings we set ourselves up as stronger than;
and wept bitterly at our own inconstancy;
and our failed love and diminished strength.
That His love holds on to us through our failure to hold on to Him.

"But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith will not fail.
And when you turn back to Me, you must strengthen your brothers."
'When you are converted,' some versions say.
When you've done a 180.
When you've come around.
When you repent,
you'll be in a position to not just be strong for you,
but to make others stronger.
Real strength does that.
It makes others stronger.
It doesn't just rejoice in its own authority,
its own ability to conquer.
But it pulls strength out of grace, having failed,
and makes other people's hands stronger.
It stands beside the tired-armed, and helps them hold their arms up.
It doesn't just yell at others to Stop Limping!
It digs out the splinters as painlessly as possible,
so weak little feet can walk again.

He sees weakness and future failure,
and prays faith and strength into it.
And that very failure becomes the strengthener of the weak.
He is the Lifter of our heads, and the only good we have to boast of.

And turn your eyes and look at Him:
knowledge of coming failure in His friends
is met with hope, prayer, mercy, love, and forgiveness.
Though He is leaving them,
He does not fret that they are not what they ought to be.
I fret about those I consider it my duty to perfect.
But our Jesus isn't fretting.
He trusts the work of the Holy Spirit in Peter.
He prays for him, and speaks to him what he needs to hear,
and although He knows perfectly well Peter can't hear Him,
trusts His words will hit their mark
and do their work even after He's gone. 

Tell Every Trembler

"God has been faithful to you.
Tell it to your children. 
Tell them God will save sinners when they come to Him, 
for He saved you... 
Tell them He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins 
if we confess them to Him, 
and to save us from all unrighteousness, 
for He forgave you. 
Tell every trembler you meet with 
that Jesus will in no wise cast out any that come to Him.
Tell all seekers that if they seek, they will find, 
and that to everyone who knocks, 
the door of mercy will be opened. 
Tell the most despondent and despairing 
that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, 
even the very chief..."
(C.H. Spurgeon, The Practice of Praise)

Sometimes the trembler I meet with is the one in my mirror.

Therefore I Have Hope

I opened my Facebook this morning
and saw one of those things
posted by Christian friends with good intentions,
hoping to stir up in you the perfect parent
and thus lead your family into a state of unmatched perfect outcomes,
never yet seen in the world.
That was how it felt, anyway.

Don't forget: everything depends on you.
If you fail to be perfect in parenting,
husbanding,
wife-ing,
and general citizenry,
all is lost,
and your children will lead the next pagan revival.

Honestly I didn't even read the post.
I have enough anxiety about my performance,
and the results of my performance
without reading it.
Maybe it was a truly helpful post.
But its title looked unbearably guilt-trippy and depressing to me.

And when a child in my house informed me this morning
that I 'was bearing false witness against them!' 
by requesting that the pan cupboard be straightened up,
knowing that particular child
had shoved everything into it topsy-turvy in a haze of daydreaming,
I lost my temper.

The bickering between this one and one other has worn me down.
I am tired of hearing pointless arguments
and contradictions without cause.
And snotty little comments made to provoke tears.
And denials of reality when reality is that the child is a space cadet,
and walks around putting things in odd places,
whether the places and actions are remembered or not.
And it was the last straw.

I did not bake some cookies to correct the misinformed little soul.
I failed to keep my cool.
And probably ruined all future hope of happiness and prosperity for the child.
Maybe of Christianity, too.
Although I did apologize,
and the child apologized,
and we hugged one another and forgave one another.

It says that if your brother has something against you,
go to him and be reconciled.
It doesn't say,
"If your brother has something against you,
you are obviously damned
because Christians never do wrong by each other,
and don't need to ask forgiveness of each other."

It isn't our perfection that sharpens one another, I think.
I think that where it says,
"As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another,"
it's more about friction than lubrication.
Sometimes I wish there was less to sharpen in me.

My husband texted me, "Broken people beget broken people.
If it wasn't for the Lord, what would we do?
He is strong.
He will hold us up."

Feeling like a jerk, I sat down and looked over a few blogs,
hoping to glean a little grace.
And my eyes fell on one of my favorites,
which was quoting a Scripture yesterday:
"This I recall to my mind,
therefore I have hope:
The Lord's lovingkindnesses indeed never cease,
for His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; great is Thy faithfulness."

And it's from Lamentations -- a bit of grace in itself.
'Compassions' are multiple.
'Lovingkindnesses' are multiple.
Unfailing.
Unceasing.
New every morning.
And strangely enough, though I am a Christian,
I need them again today.
Maybe you do, too.

There is reason to hope.
Though my lovingkindnesses stopped with six words said to me,
and my compassion probably didn't even get out of bed this morning,
His was new again, as ever.
And His faithfulness is great.

Have mercy on us sinners, Lord,
and sanctify our dirt-born lives.

Makes Rich

We took our youngest in for oral surgery
to remove a lump that should not have been there.
I've undergone several surgeries myself,
and my anxiety over him being anesthetized was shaking me badly.
Weak knees, heart palpitations, shortness of breath.
With all my attention focused in prayer on him,
I heard a Scripture in my head that did not seem to apply.

"The blessing of the Lord makes rich, 
and He adds no sorrow with it."
I didn't even know where it was.
Were the words right?
Yes, they were.
Could they be for me?
I set that on the shelf in my heart and wondered.
I had been setting a few things there over the last few weeks,
like lost property whose owner was unknown --
and hoping I could claim them.

I begged the Lord to speak to me about him,
whether I should cancel the surgery or not.
The day before the surgery, my guts twisted with angst, I heard that Scripture.
It confused me.
What blessing?
I read, "The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; 
and He knows those that trust in Him."
And, "God is our refuge and strength, 
a very present help in trouble."

On surgery day, I read this:
"In my distress, I prayed to the Lord, 
and the Lord answered me and set me free.
The Lord is for me, so I will have no fear: 
what can mere people do to me?
Yes, the Lord is for me; He will help me.
It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in people.
It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in princes.
The Lord is my strength and my song; He has given me victory.
Songs of joy and victory are sung in the camp of the godly.
The strong right arm of the Lord has done glorious things!
The strong right arm of the Lord is raised in triumph.
I will not die; instead I will live to tell what the Lord has done."
And, "The path of life leads upward for the wise; 
they leave the grave behind."

The surgery went well.
I am certain the office staff labeled me a nutcase,
because I called them up the day before
and demanded to know if the support staff
were trained in advanced life support techniques.
Were they equipped for airway obstructions?
Did they know he was small for his age?
And yes, I did tell them I was concerned they were going to overdose him.
They assured me they were competent 'in all codes',
and they weighed him again in my presence before dosing him.
I was so relieved, and thanking the Lord for my baby
when we took him from the office walking;
but kind of holding my breath still.

Later, after the surgery, I found the verse in Proverbs,
and looked more closely at it.
"Berâkâh: benediction; 
by implication prosperity: 
blessing, liberal, pool, present."
That was the definition of 'blessing' in the verse.
It wasn't just a newspaper fact, it was a promise to me while I was in distress.
I read from a devotional written by George Mueller.
Titled More Grace, he said he wanted to encourage younger believers
"to expect greater things from the Lord, who delights in giving abundantly...
Let us look out for it, for God delights to give more grace...
It is the joy and delight of His heart to give more and more and more."

If it was the Lord speaking it to me,
I was certain He was telling me I was pregnant.
I was afraid to get my hopes up,
that the Lord intended to bless us, and to keep Silas, too.
That it was time to stop bracing myself for loss and hurt.
That there was a sea change already in progress.

I wanted this blessing.
I wanted this promise.
I didn't plan it, and I didn't seek it, but I wanted it hungrily.
Because this was His will, His favor, His blessing --
and He was offering it to me?
Riches? Abundant prosperity?
Without sorrow?!
It was like hope: living, and breathing, and growing, given as a token.
Mercy offered to me, and to my children.
Yes.
Yes, please.
Please let me have this.

I looked through baby names for meanings that suited that verse.
Using a website, I looked them up by meanings.
A first and middle name from a list of name combinations we liked
that I made years ago surfaced.
If this all turned out to be true,
I wanted to be ready with a name that would remember it.
The first name came up in more than one place.
One of its meanings was 'a standing pool'.
It was connected with riches.

I wrote in my journal, "I have been waiting for the next blow for six years, I think.
Six years of hyper-vigilance, fear, and expectation of no good thing.
I want to walk in hope.
I want to walk in the light of Your grace."

We bought a pregnancy test and a bottle of prenatal vitamins.
I was afraid to take it when I got home, because if this was all in my head,
I was afraid I would plunge into depression.
This hope felt like a promise, and the loss of it would feel like a curse.
I took the test.
It was positive.

Jeff read to us from the Psalms that night, the day after Silas's surgery:
"He turns a wilderness into pools of water, 
and dry lands into watersprings...
He also blesses them and they multiply greatly...
When they are diminished 
and brought low through oppression, affliction, and sorrow, 
He pours contempt on princes, 
and causes them to wander in the wilderness where there is no way; 
yet He sets the poor on high, far from affliction, 
and makes their families like a flock.
The righteous see it and rejoice, and all iniquity stops its mouth.
Whoever is wise will observe these things, 
and they will understand the lovingkindness of the Lord."

If the name that keeps cropping up is any indication, this is a girl.
And I will be graduating from a multipara
to a grand multipara of advanced maternal age.
We saw our baby's heartbeat yesterday. 
I already get to be a grand multigravida.

We Sing In The Dark

I was awakened from a sound sleep at 4:17 this morning.
I lay there listening, wondering why I was awake.
Softly, softly, I heard a tinkling sound, far away and indistinct.
It puzzled me.
What was it?
Maybe the wind chimes... Was it windy out?
I couldn't hear any wind.
But since it didn't stop, I got up and opened the door to the hall.
I listened, and it was still there, musical and mysterious.
I walked quietly down the stairs, trying to hear it above my footsteps.
I opened the door to the living room:
the cat looked curiously up at me from the couch.
Stopping and listening again, I recognized a chorus of birds,
singing to the unrisen sun.
It made me smile.
"Don't you know it's four seventeen?" I thought.

I thought about the birds, singing in the dark, while I fell asleep again.
About Jesus saying, '"But when these things begin to come to pass,
look up, and lift up your heads;
because your redemption draweth nigh."
And He spake to them a parable:
Behold the fig tree, and all the trees:
when they now shoot forth, ye see it
and know of your own selves that the summer is now nigh.
Even so ye also, when ye see these things coming to pass,
know ye that the kingdom of God is nigh."'
He said it to them in reference to terrors.
To things that made them want to faint in fear.

Like the birds, we sing in the dark.
We look forward to the Sonrise, the breaking of the Day.
And though we sing in the dark,
we sing of the return of the Light:
of summer; the budding of leaves;
the fruit on its way;
and the Kingdom of God.
Perhaps our singing will awaken a sleeper.

Beyond the Jagged Questions and Through the Darkness

From my reading today in Diary of an Old Soul:

January 2

A dim aurora rises in my east,
Beyond the line of jagged questions hoar,
As if the head of our intombed High Priest
Began to glow behind the unopened door:
Sure the gold wings will soon rise from the gray!
They rise not. Up I rise, press on the more,
To meet the slow coming of the Master's day.

And from the hymnal:

Holy, holy, holy!
Though the darkness hide Thee,
Though the eye of sinful man
Thy glory may not see;
Only Thou art holy --
there is none beside Thee
Perfect in power,
in love and purity.

Call me Mara.

She had worked all her life in service to her family.
She birthed those sons in pain and blood.
She packed up her home with her own hands,
and followed her husband out of the drought.
The famine.
Out of the homeland and its inheritance.
They left it all and moved away into Moab.
There in a land not her own, she fed them.
She clothed them.
She took care of them when they were sick.
And then her husband died,
and she had to lead alone.

She began to look forward in hope from all the leaving and the loss,
when her sons were old enough to marry.
She found them wives.
Moabite wives, yes.
That hadn't been her dream.
But these were nice enough girls.
One day soon, maybe the loneliness would fade.
There would be women to share the load with,
and sons who could protect them,
and make their living.
And babies.
Laughing grandbabies she could offer advice about raising,
and rock to sleep,
and pretend away the sadness with.
Maybe it wouldn't all be loss.

For ten years she hoped,
while her daughters-in-law did not conceive.
Every month at first, that hopeful excitement.
Is my grandbaby on the way?
Surely any day now...
But the day did not come.
And then her last living hopes died.

The sons she had birthed in pain and blood were gone.
Their father had led her here to this alien place.
She had no friends.
No sisters a few houses down.
And two barren daughters-in-law.
They probably blamed her.
Everything around her ended in disaster.
Everything she touched turned to dust.
But these women were past their fruitful prime,
and had a ten year record of infertility.
Who would marry them?

Her homeland had good crops again.
It came like a breeze in the market place.
Maybe she bought grain that had traveled the road from her home.
Working it into bread,
perhaps she thought about the fields her young husband had worked.
How they had built their dreams there,
and birthed their sons there,
and harvested life there.
It had been nothing but a harvest of misery for years.
She decided to go back.
She had nothing here to keep her.
Better to die among friends.
Better to cry over losses with friends.
They had known her husband,
and rejoiced over her sons' births.
They could sympathize with her.

She didn't want these poor daughters-in-law
to have the same fate she had suffered.
Bereft in a strange land.
They'd been good girls, but it was too much to ask.
Ruth, odd girl, chose the mourning.
She'd rather stay under the cloud.
It seemed like choosing a curse.
Even her words sounded like she was choosing death.

All those old friends still recognized her.
They were excited to have her home.
Ah, but they remembered her hopeful and pleasant.
They remembered her a landowner.
They remembered her a mother.
They remembered her a wife with a husband who loved her.
They remembered a woman with a future.
There was nothing for her now.
All her fruit lay rotting in Moab.

"Don't call me Naomi.
Call me Mara.
I had full hands when I left,
but the Lord has taken everything away from me.
The Lord afflicts me.
The Lord sent tragedy to me.
Call me Mara."
I've eaten bitterness, and I'm a disaster.

Aren't you glad it doesn't end there?
Because this woman with no hope
and no family
and no property
and nothing to live for
is cuddling her grandson in the last verses,
and her daughter-in-law is better than ten sons to her,
and the future she thought was cut off
is connected to the past by a different branch.
And she embraced it.

In The Midst and During

I was reading last night from Psalm 138:

In the day when I cried out, You answered me,
and made me bold with strength in my soul...
Though the Lord is on high, yet He regards the lowly;
but the proud He knows from afar.
Though I walk in the midst of trouble, 
You will revive me;
You will stretch out Your hand
against the wrath of my enemies,
and Your right hand will save me.
The Lord will perfect that which concerns me;
Your mercy, O Lord, endures forever;
do not forsake the works of Your hands.

And then this morning, I was reading from 2 Chronicles 15.
These are the words of Azariah;
it says the Spirit of God came upon him,
and he gave this message to King Asa:

"The Lord will stay with you, as long as you stay with Him.
Whenever you seek Him, you will find Him.
But if you abandon Him, He will abandon you.
For a long time, Israel was without the true God,
without a priest to teach them,
and without the Law to instruct them.
But whenever they were in trouble 
and turned to the Lord, the God of Israel,
and sought Him out, they found Him.
During those dark times, it was not safe to travel.
Problems troubled the people of every land.
Nation fought against nation, and city against city,
for God was troubling them with every kind of problem.
But as for you, be strong and courageous,
for your work will be rewarded." 

Though I walk in the midst of trouble...
I don't want to walk in the midst of trouble.
I don't want to live in dark times, unsafe times, wrathful times.
Don't we all just want to live quiet and peaceful lives?
But though we walk in the midst of trouble,
He will revive us.
He will stretch out His hand against the wrath of our enemies and save us.

Revive. Do you know what it means?
To live again. To return to life.
Let's set our faces toward His salvation:
to live again, to see His justice though we walk in the midst of trouble.
Jesus is the salvation of His right hand.
Jesus is the resurrection and the life.
He is our future and our hope, though trouble is our present.
Though the wrath of the enemy is our present lot,
He will perfect that which concerns us,
and He will not forsake the works of His hands.

Good News!

Are you among those who are alienated from God?
An enemy in your mind because of wicked works? 

Your sins made the list of redeemable offences against God.

They were paid for by the blood of Jesus,
and faith in Him wipes out the list of charges against you.

Amnesty.
Reconciliation is offered through the body of His flesh through death.
You, too, Alienated Enemy, Worker of Wickedness,
can be presented holy and blameless and above reproach in His sight.

"And you,
being dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh,
He has made alive together with Him,
having forgiven you all trespasses,
having wiped out the handwriting of requirements that was against us,
which was contrary to us.
And He has taken it out of the way, having nailed it to the cross."

Now wouldn't you like to shout?

Injustice

I have dear friends who are missionaries in Eastern Europe.
A man they know has recently been convicted of a crime
for being rear-ended while he was stopped in a car.
The judge was bribed, the police reports were changed,
and this husband and father is stuck in prison for seven years.
His friends and family have been praying for him.
People like me, who never met him have been praying for him.
And he is 'guilty', and imprisoned.
I don't know him or his family, and this is very distressing.

So many times people accuse God of injustice
because the world He gave us has so much corruption in it.
But we are the ones who set ourselves up
as the Knowers of Right and Wrong.
As the judges of good and evil.
We reject His Word, His justice.
We perpetrate our injustice on the world,
and we lay the blame at His feet.

But I cannot help but think of the good company
he and his family are in in suffering unjustly.
We are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses,
many of whom suffered as much or more.
The One we believed and the One we worship,
and the One we want to be found in
was crucified in the most horrendous case of injustice
this world has ever perpetrated.

Let's look unto Jesus, and run the race in front of us,
trusting that He is just, and the justifier of those who trust Him.
We are not of this world, not of these systems,
and our Home is a place of justice and truth.
Do not fail to hope in Christ, Christian.

New Mercy and Compassions that Fail Not

I am not among those who revel in the change of the year.
I am prone to dismal forebodings.
And I am not resolute.
Or at least, I resent the expectation of resolve.
I don't like to make declarations of plans.
I prefer to simply do the things I think I ought to do.
(A man of words and not of deeds is like a garden full of weeds --
and all that stuff.)

Last night, we watched the freak-out in Times Square.
And when the date changed, I thought, "Hmm. There it is. A new year. Wow."
My husband said, "Last year my work was coming to an end,
and I had no idea what we would do.
We had no money.
We hadn't even put our house on the market yet.
The Lord has been faithful to us."
It was a difficult year.
Actually, the few years before that were difficult, too.
And the Lord has been faithful to us.

I don't like changes.
They trigger anxiety for me.
But I remember that the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.
His mercies never come to an end.
They are new every morning.
Great is His faithfulness.

"This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope.
It is of the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed, 
because his compassions fail not.
They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.
The LORD is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him.
The LORD is good to them that wait for him, 
to the soul that seeketh him. 
It is good that a man should both hope 
and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD."
~From Lamentations 3

Whatever lamentation the year may hold, the Lord is my portion.
He has new mercy for me every day.
He is faithful in great ways.
I am not consumed.
He is good to those who wait for Him,
and He has shown Himself so in my life.
I will hope in Him, and quietly wait for him.

"Put on humility. 
For God resists proud ones, 
but He gives grace to the humble.
Therefore be humbled under the mighty hand of God, 
so that He may exalt you in due time, 
casting all your anxiety onto Him, 
for He cares for you."
~From 1 Peter 5

He cares for me.
And His compassions fail not.
Happy first day of the first week of the first month of the new year.

And Brings Up

"The LORD kills,
and makes alive:
He brings down to the grave,
and brings up."
~1 Samuel 2:6

A friend of mine put this verse up as a status update the other day.
It's not one of those verses that make you feel happy if you look at it wrong.
But for the first time, I noticed its order.
It doesn't say, "The Lord gives you life and then He kills you.
First you live, and then you're buried."
It says, "He brings down, and brings you up."

Jesus received word from friends that He loved:
"Lord, behold, he whom you love is sick."
It says He loved them.
And it is apparent that they knew He loved them.
They summoned Him on the basis of their friendship.
And He did not come.
He let him die.
And He told His disciples that the sickness was not unto death.

"Our friend Lazarus is fallen asleep; but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep," He said.
The disciples thought that was a good sign.
I think it's kind of funny that they had the Author of Life with them,
and they're still trying to discern signs of hope when a friend is deathly ill.
So then Jesus told them plainly, "Lazarus is dead."
Thomas's response: "Let us also go, that we may die with him."
Isn't that what so deeply wounds us when we face the death of our loved ones?
I'm next.
Death comes for us all.

Martha's first words to Jesus are, "If You had been here, he wouldn't be dead!
Even now, whatever You ask, I know God will give You."
God doesn't listen to my prayers... but I know He hears You. 
Jesus said to her, "Thy brother shall rise again."
She gives a theologically sound response: Yes, at the resurrection.
At that magical time at the end of the age... 
He wanted  her to understand that He is Life, He is Resurrection,
and faith in Him envelops us in His Life.
"He that believes on Me, though he die, yet shall he live; 
and whosoever lives and believes on Me shall never die. 
Do you believe this?"

Mary came, and had the same reproach for Him.
When I read Mary's words I think she was more accusatory than her sister Martha.
More struck down.
It says that when He saw Mary's weeping,
He was troubled and groaned in His spirit.
He didn't reason with Mary in her grief.
He wept, and He demonstrated.
He called her brother right out of the grave.
Out of the decay of four days' rotting.
"And he that was dead came forth,
bound hand and foot with grave-clothes;
and his face was bound about with a napkin.
Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go."

One day, we will each hear Him,
still calling us by name though we are dead.
"Come here!"
"I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob..."
And, bound in our death wraps, we'll obey.
And He will say, "Loose her, and let her go."

Those Who Wrestle And Don't Let Go

There are others, you know.

Others with trophy scars and injuries 

they received wrestling God, or His agent.

Abraham: 

I counted my son a loss, but held tight to the Living God.

Job: 

"And now my soul is poured out because of my plight; 

the days of my affliction take hold of me... 

He has cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes... 

You have become cruel to me; 

with the strength of Your hand You oppose me."

My wife told me I ought to curse Him and die. 

Our losses had piled up one after another. 

There was no end in sight, and I was covered in excruciating boils.

Our children were all dead.

I hadn't done anything wrong. 

But I held to Him when He gave me good.

I had to hold to Him in this, too.

"...Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him."

"Have you considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in all the earth?

...And still he holds fast..."

Esther:

"...And if I perish, I perish."

David:

"I will not offer to the Lord my God whole offerings that have cost me nothing."

Daniel:

"When Daniel knew the writing was signed, 

he went home...

And with his windows open toward Jerusalem,

he knelt down on his knees three times that day, 

and prayed and gave thanks before his God."

Moses:

"If Your Presence does not go with us, do not bring us up from here."

Ruth:

"Your God will be my God,

and where you die, there will I be buried."

In the face of loss,
death,
bereavement,
misery,
and threats,
each of them essentially said, "I will not let You go except You bless me."

You Win

Jacob.
The patriarch we all wonder about.
How did he get listed?
Abraham: the friend of God;
Isaac: the long-awaited promised son;
and Jacob: the heel-catcher?
"Jacob I have loved," He said.
What did God see in him?

I think I am beginning to see it too.
And it's beautiful.
Everyone knows his stories, but the point of them is often confusing -- at least to me.

He was a man on the run:
from his brother;
from his father-in-law;
from Canaanites;
from famine.
But he did not run from God.
He wrestled Him.
And he wouldn't let go.
He halted upon his thigh the rest of his life because he refused to let go.
He preferred God's blessing to his own strength.
Even if it hurt him.

"Bless me! I will cling through Your maiming touch and not let go!"
He caught God's heel.

I've heard people use that passage to say,
"When you're in a wrestling match with God, give up."
I understand what they are trying to say,
but it seems to me that God was pleased with his -- (dare I say it?) patience.
His continuance.

"You have struggled with God and with men, and have prevailed," He said.
Has that ever troubled you?
I mean, it says He did not prevail against him.
Is Jacob stronger than God?
Certainly not.
What the heck is that talking about?

In Hosea it says,
"[Jacob] took his brother by the heel in the womb,
and in his strength he struggled with God.
Yes, he struggled with the Angel and prevailed;
he wept, and sought favor from Him."

God comes to struggle with us.
To contend with us.
To roll in the dirt and hold us down.
To wrestle us into exhaustion,
to wound us in the strongest part of our being.
To be held down by the grasping of our faith.
To be clung to, and torn at, and dirtied in the struggle -- sweated on and wept to.
If we hold fast to Him, we will carry the scars and the injuries with us.
And when we don't let go, although it cost us our health,
our life,
our children,
our hopes and dreams,
our homes,
our positions --
though we halt upon our thighs for the rest of our lives
and our children down through the ages commemorate the struggle at every meal,
we have prevailed when we have hung on to Him.

And He loves that.
He blesses that.
He memorializes it, too.
When I brought you low, you held on still, and you win.

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?
Shall tribulation,
or distress,
or persecution,
or famine,
or nakedness,
or peril,
or sword?
As it is written:
'For Your sake we are killed all day long;
We are counted as sheep for the slaughter.'
Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us."

Knowing That

"Therefore, having been justified by faith, 
we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, 
through whom also we have access by faith 
into this grace in which we stand, 
and rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. 
And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, 
knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; 
and perseverance, character; 
and character, hope."
~Romans 5:1-4

"My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials,
knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience.
But let patience have its perfect work,
that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing."
~James 1

"By your patience possess your souls."
~Luke 21:19

It amazes me what they 'knew' that we seem ignorant of.
They knew that tribulation produces perseverance,
which produces character,
which produces hope.
They knew that the testing of our faith produces patience,
and patience works maturity in us.

I pondered this, and wondered at it.
But hope is a fruit of the Holy Spirit.
Patience is a fruit of the Holy Spirit.
Perhaps I was under the impression they were magically imparted,
not worked into us.
These indicate that hope is the product of character
formed by perseverance,
produced by tribulation.
And patience is produced by the testing of my faith.

I thought about bread making.
How every ingredient of bread can be in my machine,
but if it isn't worked, it isn't bread.
The gluten only forms when they are combined by pressure and made to wait.
And the times when I have not quite snapped that little paddle into its power source,
and the pressure has not been transferred into the dough -- have been food disasters.
Nothing useful has resulted.
Time has not been sufficient to bring the dough to maturity.

"Be kindly affectionate with brotherly love,
in honor giving preference to one another;
not lagging in diligence,
fervent in spirit, 
serving the Lord;
rejoicing in hope,
patient in tribulation,
continuing steadfastly in prayer;
distributing to the needs of the saints,
given to hospitality..."
~Romans 12:10-13