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.

Living With Transition

My mother posted pictures of a remodel they are working on
in response to water damage in their laundry room.
The repair goes beyond the laundry room, into the kitchen
because of future plans for the house.
She said this, after explaining what they were doing,
"Don't know when we'll be able to completely finish the kitchen 
but we're willing to live with transition to save steps later."

I grew up walking on splintery plywood subfloors,
and writing Scripture verses on exposed sheetrock,
because the walls were unfinished, too.
We lived in a number of different houses.
Sometimes my parents bought places that needed a lot of work,
and although they were 'finished', they weren't quite right,
and they were promptly plunged into an unfinished state.
I remember when they ripped out the living room and kitchen floors,
subfloors and all, and I had to jump down in between the studs
onto the pea gravel in my bare feet outside my bedroom door
before they poured a foundation right through the big picture window.
When it was finished, it had become an appropriate home for people,
and no longer a haven for snakes and banana slugs, and spiders.
They left every house they ever owned better than they had received it.
But quite often that meant we lived in it with some lack for awhile,
while we waited for the resources to finish.

Sometimes the changes were to enlarge,
or to make it more functional for the family we were at the time.
Sometimes they were repairs of things that had worked well
when they were put in, but something malfunctioned,
and damage had been done.
As an adult living in my own home, my dad also helped us sometimes.
I bought a house that had leaked behind a bathtub wall,
and mold had become a problem.
Over and over again the previous owners
had added new caulking over the mildewed old.
The mold kept overtaking the shaggy mess.
My dad helped me rip it all out.
New sheetrock was in order before the tile surround could be put in.
Stripping back is part of building up.
Without the stripping back, the same problem will again seep through in time.

One time I was surprised with a new laundry room when I got back from a trip.
It was so beautiful, and functional.
But a few years later, a flood from my broken washing machine
necessitated tearing out the brand new floor and laying a new one again.
Homeownership involves responding to problems at hand
before going forward with dream projects.

Buying a home wisely includes getting problems assessed before you buy.
The last home we bought had a list of issues we needed to consider.
None of them were dealbreakers -- it was a house worth buying --
but some had to be addressed before we could fix other things.
The electrical had to be replaced
before I bothered painting the upstairs hallway.
The house had plenty of power,
but the way it was arranged meant that we were constantly blowing fuses.
It required redistribution, and it needed new wiring.
Replacing wiring sometimes doesn't look like anything is happening.
Just a few new holes in walls, and little piles of drill dust, and little by little,
a change in how the power is being supplied.
The power becomes less noticeable, because it's responding as it should.
But once it's finished, the insurance rates go down,
because a danger has been eliminated.

Living with transition requires patience from the dwellers.
The laundry room cannot function while it is disconnected for remodeling.
And leaving things undone for a little longer may save steps later.
You see, that laundry room-- the one that had to have its floor replaced again?
The subfloor had been rushed to meet the deadline for the surprise.
As we were fixing it, I heard a comment:
"This should have had cement board for a subfloor."
The plywood couldn't take the water.
It swelled up and broke the grout when it flooded.
Another day spent preparing it properly (and living with the transition)
would have meant not replacing it again later.

A Meditation of Bread

A few weeks ago I was given a different brand of whole wheat flour
than I have been using.
Suddenly my bread recipe,
which I had tweaked for some time to get right, failed me.
I wasn't doing anything different other than using another brand.
I have to think about bread again.

Since I began making the bread we eat, I think about bread often.
Is there any bread?
Is there enough bread?
I had better make bread.
Will the bread rise?
Are the ratios right?
Bread is a daily thought.

But then recently, I decided to give a sourdough starter a try --
one I started myself, and didn't receive as a ready gift.
Now bread is an always thought.

I peer into the bowl.
Is it alive yet?
Any signs of life at all?
I smell it.
I watch it.
I feed it.
I wait for it.
I read for hours about it.
I study different schools of thought about it,
and make decisions about which care it will receive.
I plan ahead for its future.
I have hopes for this bread.
For a future of bread and more bread from it.
For pancakes
and cinnamon rolls
and boules
and rolls.
Maybe.
If I can only tell if it's healthy.

Last night I researched signs of health for my bread.
And I discovered I was starving it.
So I fed it an appropriate amount, and it liked it!
Oh, the joy.
I have been feeding it and watching it all day,
and I think it might be on the verge of being perfect --
for a young sourdough starter.
It doubled today.

So I researched 'proofing the sponge'.
Now I watch again anxiously.
Is it working?
Will it rise?
I smell it.
I wait for it.
I think about it while I do the dishes,
washing all the doughy mess from my bowls and utensils.
I wonder if I understand the Bible passages about leaven.
I wonder if in our buy-ten-loaves-of-bread-
and-stick-them-in-our-freezers culture
if I've understood at all.
I think about the feast of unleavened bread,
and I wonder what it means.
What it really means.
And about the purging out of old leaven,
and if it's what I just did when I dumped half the starter down the sink.

And I think about the kingdom of heaven,
and the womanly tasks He described it with.
About leaven, and about lost money,
and the thorough sweeping she did when she lost it.
I think about my Mom and the sometimes days
when she lost money in her checkbook,
and sent us all away so she could balance months' worth of transactions,
'thoroughly sweeping' until she found it.
Or when she maybe lost a check,
and how the entire office had to be ransacked
and set back in order until it was found.
And my mind goes back to the bread.

He put it into His teaching to His disciples on how to pray.
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 it makes me smile as I realize
that the meditation of the bread
has brought me full circle to His kingdom.
To His care for me and my bread.
To His holiness.
To the hope of justice and the concern for His will.
To forgiveness.
The asking for it.
The giving of it.
Because man shall not live on bread alone.

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."

Called?

In looking at patience, I came across another thought-rattler.
Read it through and think on it a little.
It may help with the ever-present 'WHY?!' that springs up in the face of suffering.

"For this is commendable, 
if because of conscience toward God  
one endures grief, suffering wrongfully. 
For what credit is it if, when you are beaten for your faults, 
you take it patiently? 
But when you do good and suffer, 
if you take it patiently, 
this is commendable before God. 
For to this you were called, 
because Christ also suffered for us, 
leaving us an example, 
that you should follow His steps... 
Who, when he was reviled, did not revile in return; 
when He suffered, He did not threaten,  
but committed Himself to Him who judges righteously."
~ 1 Peter 2:19-21

Maybe this passage sounds exactly right to your human brain and internal sense of justice.
But when I consider what it's saying, my brain shouts, "WHAT??!!"
Going back to why I began looking at these passages in the first place
(the Hebrews passage about leaving the elementary stuff and pressing on to maturity
-- hope, faith, and patience),
it stands out to me that it says, 'to this you were called'.
We were called to do good and suffer?
To follow His steps.

And in that, to commit ourselves to Him who judges righteously.
Because ultimately, that is hope.
That is faith. 
And that is patience.
Hope knows He is righteous,
and He judges righteously,
though I suffer.
Faith knows He sees me,
and He loves me,
though I suffer.
And patience waits for Him, grieving.
Patience stays under the load in hope and in faith.

Several of the words for patience indicate an expectant waiting.
A long-suffering, patient endurance.
Fortitude.
One of them came from two words: 'motion toward' and 'receive'.
'To admit, to allow'.
We naturally turn away from that which does not give us pleasure.
No admittance here.
Maturity walks through it.
Maturity leans into the contraction, breathes through the pain, lets it have its work.
And God commends it.

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

The First Entry

All my study books are packed, so I used e-Sword to look up 'patience' in their dictionary.
Not being as quick as some, I puzzled a little over the first entry.
I don't read Hebrew, and it is a Hebrew word.  
'Iyob' is how it was transliterated.
It means, 'hated, persecuted'.
And the helpful little side note said, '(like Job was opposed)'.
Hmm.
I never thought of patience that way.

After I read and copied and considered all eight Biblical words translated as 'patience',
(and their seven root words),
and moved on through twenty-one words translated as 'hope',
(and their several root words),
and looked at the two words translated as 'endurance',
I decided to begin again with entry one and see what verses used this 'hated, persecuted' word.

Job 1:1?
There was a man in the land of Uz, 
whose name was Job; 
and that man was perfect and upright, 
and one that feared God, and shunned evil. 

Huh?

So I looked up the next one. 
Job 1:5
And it was so, when the days of their feasting were ended, 
that Job sent and sanctified them, 
and rose early in the morning, 
and offered burnt-offerings according to the number of them all; 
for Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts. 
Thus did Job continually. 

I double checked my reference.
I looked it up in the KJV+
(which numbers each word by its Hebrew and Greek word definitions
according to the Strong's concordance -- a lovely reference for wanna-be scholars).

Wait.
What?
That's his name?
That's his name.

With Patience

It began here:

"Solid food belongs to those who are of full age, that is,
those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern good and evil.
Therefore, leaving the discussion of the elementary principles of Christ,
let us go on to perfection,
not laying again the foundation of repentance from dead works 
and faith toward God,
of the doctrine of baptisms,
of laying on of hands,
of resurrection of the dead,
and eternal judgment..."
~Hebrews 5:14-6:2

I read this.
And I thought about it. 
And I said to myself, "It is obvious in this passage what the foundational things are --
the elementary principles we are to move on from.
But does it indicate what we are to move on to?"
So I read further.
Until I arrived at verses 11 and 12:

"And we desire that each one of you show the same diligence to
the full assurance of hope until the end,
that you do not become sluggish, but imitate those who
through faith
and patience
inherit the promises."

A new thought.
Hope.
Faith. 
Patience.
There's something to learn here.
New connections of very old-to-me scriptures began to form in my mind.
I thought I'd better study a little more about patience.

"Now the ones on the rock are those who,
when they hear, receive the word with joy;
and these have no root,
who believe for awhile
and in time of temptation fall away.
Now the ones that fell among thorns are those who,
when they have heard,
go out and are choked with cares, riches, and pleasures of life,
and bring no fruit to maturity.
The ones that fell on the good ground are those who,
having heard the word with a noble and good heart,
keep it and bear fruit with patience."

How did I never notice that last bit before?
Fruitfulness is related to patience.
Maturity. Patience.

"Therefore be patient, brethren, until the coming of the Lord.
See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth,
waiting patiently for it until it receives the early and latter rain.
You also be patient.
Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand..."
~James 5:7,8

I'd like to say more on this subject, but it will have to wait.
Patiently.