Looking to the Past Gave Me the Way into the Future

When I was a child, my mother used to take me and my brothers shopping and every time we walked into a store, she stopped us, looked into our eyes to make sure she had our attention and gave us the same speech, “If you get lost, don’t wander around the store looking for me. Stop. Stay right where you are and I will come find you.” I did get lost a few times. I turned around and all of sudden she wasn’t there and I’d look around a little bit thinking she was just around the next corner and when I saw she wasn’t I would stop and wait for her. Admittedly I was anxious when I didn’t know where she was but under the anxiety and fear was the certain knowledge that she was looking for me and would find me if I just stayed where I was. And, of course, she always did. Even though it seemed like forever, I was never lost for more than a few minutes before she would find me, give me a hug, tell me to stay close and we were off again about our shopping trip.

This story has some very obvious connections to the Good Shepherd story found in Luke 15 but more importantly, it’s the memory God gave me that brought me to him. I’d given up on God as a child, floating between atheism and agnosticism. I’d been living with untreated depression for decades and surviving in an abusive relationship. I was trapped and suffocating in my life. I tried everything I could think of in my power to relieve some of pressure and pain and had given up, defeated and consigned to my fate. I remember desperately wanting God to be real because the only way I was going to find peace or joy in my life was if he was real and if he even cared.

One very late night/early morning I was sitting quietly writing in a journal when this 20-year-old obscure memory from a childhood I had blocked out came to me so vividly I could hear my mother’s voice say the words and I realized that for years I had been metaphorically wandering around looking for God instead of waiting for him to find me. That was the moment I surrendered to this God I didn’t know yet. I remember the prayer: “God, I’ve tried everything I can to fix my life and there’s nothing left for me to try. You are my only hope so I’m going to sit right here and wait for you to find me.” I didn’t realize then the floodgate of power and grace God released into my life and it would be years before he revealed his grace in Jesus Christ to me.

For several years before the pandemic, I’d been living in a stagnant period of my faith journey, feeling like my faith and my relationship with God had dried up—like a couple sitting at the breakfast table with nothing to say to each other anymore and barely acknowledging each other’s existence. Occasionally, I tried to liven things up, to reignite the fire of the relationship, to grab hold of the intimacy I shared with God in the early years of my faith. But I quickly drifted back to my almost non-existent relationship status with God. Then 2020 came and my life has been about surviving one crisis after another: the virus, a depressive episode, my father’s sudden death and assuming the care of mother, suffering with constant vertigo for 5 months and the subsequent 3 months of therapy to correct it, the sudden loss of the job and ministry I had enjoyed for almost 20 years and had planned to retire from and most recently the rapid decline of my mother's health and having to put her into hospice care.

 Even though it's been hard, I’m grateful for the last three years because it put me in a very familiar place and recently the memory of my mother’s speech came back to me helping me to realize that once again, I’ve been roaming around trying to find God when I should just be staying where I am and waiting for him to find me—waiting and watching, with unwavering faith that he will find me. Immediately, I prayed a similar prayer of surrender and have already begun to feel some small stirring in my soul and a faint sensing of his presence again. Christmas is the celebration of Immanuel (God with us) so this realization is timely and with the hope of renewal as the new year approaches, I am looking forward to what God has in store for me in 2024 because whatever it is, I know it will bring me closer to him and that is exactly where I truly want to be.

Inside the Christmas Story

I realize that my devotionals these last few weeks have had a touch of darkness in them and this being Christmas, I decided to lay the heaviness of my life aside to focus on the Light of the World instead. Many years ago, I had the opportunity to study the bible in a new and interactive way where we step into the story to see and hear through the character’s eyes and ears. Today I thought it might be refreshing to put myself in the Christmas story to see what God would teach me from inside the story.

(Scriptures in italics—Luke 2:1-18, 20 NIV)

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.  (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to their own town to register.

 So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.  He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

Census taking today is much different than it was in the 1st Century. I imagine the turmoil that occurred in the lives of Mary and Joseph and in the little town of Bethlehem was substantial. Being first-time parents, this was probably an especially stressful and scary time for Mary and Joseph. Mary had hoped to give birth in the quiet familiar surroundings of her home with the women of her family and friends gathered around her to help her through it all but that was not to be. Jesus would not be placed in the cradle her husband made surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of their home but in a manger in a faraway, crowded and noisy place. Leaving behind everything familiar, they endured a four-day journey traveling 90 miles to stay in an overcrowded village with nothing but what they could bring with them. They found themselves sleeping amongst the hay and animals all so they could be counted and overtaxed by a cruelly oppressive government. When I think about all Mary and Joseph did in obedience to God, Mary choosing God’s will over her own at the risk of her reputation and maybe even her life. Joseph following through on his commitment to Mary and raising a son the entire town knew was not his, again a deep source of shame by societal standards of the day. Theirs was a hard life made harder by their daily obedience and yet they chose to faithfully serve God in their role as Jesus’ parents. Their faithfulness inspires me. I want to strive for and have that kind of dedication to and trust in God every day.

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” 

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

 “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

 So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger.  When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

Trying to place myself in the Christmas story as a shepherd, I can almost hear the crackling of the fire where my fellow shepherds and I gather around to keep warm in the cool of the night. There’s a slight breeze wafting through that carries the smell of the sleeping sheep nearby. A few sheep bleat and baa to each other. All of sudden, an angel appears in the sky! (Maybe it was in the sky and maybe it wasn’t. That’s how I imagine it.) I can imagine how scary that moment was. Too many science fiction movies have prepared me to know that if something unearthly, loud and bright fills the sky, the appropriate response is to scream and run and I expect that the shepherds felt something like that. So, hearing the words, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news,” wouldn’t necessarily have made me less afraid, but it would have piqued my interest enough to pay attention. 

I’m going to leave the shepherd’s here for a moment to situate myself in the sky with the angels. Oh, to be an angel on this night to proclaim the coming of God into the world, not with war or in judgement but with grace and in peace. No wonder they filled up the sky to sing his praises that night. I want to be so moved by his presence that, like the angels, I can’t help proclaiming his grace and singing his praises to the world.

Back to the shepherds: Now if a heavenly being tells me that the one thing I have been hoping and praying for all my life had come to pass, I would be curious to go see with my own eyes and to celebrate. (The Jewish people had been waiting for centuries for the Messiah to come to rescue them from oppression and restore his kingdom. And Jesus was going to do just that, but not quite in the limited human way the people were expecting.) The shepherds went and found Jesus just as the angel proclaimed and then they told everyone they met about all they had witnessed. They returned to their sheep praising and glorifying God for this miraculous event. What I want to take from the shepherd’s part in the story is the awe and marvel of that night when God’s presence was revealed and experienced. It’s no wonder they couldn’t help telling everyone about it and I want to be like that too.

There is one more person in the story—Jesus. I’m not going to try to put myself in Jesus’ place but I do want to make an observation. Christmas is the day we celebrate his birth so it may feel out of place to talk about his sacrifice but it must be understood that his sacrifice isn’t contained to Holy Week. So that we would have the hope of reconciliation, the Creator of the universe set his divinity aside and humbled himself to be born a human baby of a poor couple in an occupied 1st century Middle Eastern territory. That wouldn’t have been my first choice. If it were me, I would have at least waited for humans to progress as far as indoor plumbing and air conditioning. His sacrifice began the moment he was conceived, not the day he was nailed to the cross. Imagine all he denied himself to become human and, in his pursuit of our redemption, to be with us shining his light into our darkness. 

And what kind of welcome did he receive? Aside from his human family, those shepherds, a few Magi, and a small crowd of followers later in life, he didn’t receive a very warm welcome. During his lifetime on earth, he was looked down on, ridiculed, harassed, turned away, beaten and killed. That’s a lot of sacrifice for the underwhelming reception he received but Jesus’ sole focus was not on the glory of his accomplishments but rather in seeking and doing God’s will no matter what. And that’s what the angels were singing about and what the shepherds went to see and why I gave my heart to him 24 years ago and still follow him today. 

Merry Christmas!

The Last Time

 Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning. (Psalm 30:5b)

Today I bought the last Christmas card I’m ever going to give my mom. It was a bittersweet moment, standing in the greeting card isle trying to find a card that expresses how much that woman means to me in a not-too-wordy message that she will be able to read and at the same time, trying not to let it get me down. Everything I do for my mother these days have a melancholy shadow surrounding it. After surviving the sudden death of my son, I thought that knowing beforehand and having some time to get used to the idea would make it easier but I was mistaken. Losing someone you love hurts whether its quickly all at once or piece by piece over time. What makes it all the harder is that all of my life, Mom was always the person I went to when life got hard. I’m losing my mother and my support all at the same time.

What keeps the despair at bay is the knowledge that God is with me through it all, even if I don’t feel him. Even if, in my pain, I’m too numb or apathetic to seek his presence. It would be easy to feel completely lost and defeated and wallow in the emptiness of my grief and maybe sometimes I do. But when I look back on the broken, damaged person I was and how God has changed and healed my life and my heart, I have confidence that one day I will look back on this moment and be able to see clearly where God was and how he held the pieces of my heart together in his loving hands. He’s proven to me repeatedly over the last quarter century that he is trustworthy and he will not abandon me so I’m just going to lean into the God who has proven his faithfulness to me and hope he holds me together through this dark night.

His Light in Our Darkness

Sometimes it helps me to think of the Church as being one big “Sinners Anonymous” gathering. We’re all sinners, whether we are “sinning” at the moment or not. It’s who we are. When we admit that we can’t do anything about it and that we need God to get us through the next minute without sinning, we are not left helpless to wallow in our sinfulness, but are finally at a point where we can begin to live our lives with some clarity and purpose.

Sin can be intoxicating and disguise itself so well that we may not realize how close we are until we’re already in it. That’s where God’s eternal grace comes in. Each time we admit our relapse, we just start fresh, learn from our mistakes, and grow in wisdom and strength. Not a single one of us is without sin. Because we all face the same struggle, we can be each other’s strength in weakness.

God is holy. We, on the other hand, are not. If we say we’re Christians but our lives showcase our will over his, we’re only fooling ourselves. If we think we’re righteous because we’re basically good people or at least more good than not, we are sadly mistaken. And if we find no fault in ourselves, we are liars. The misperception that a person redeemed in Christ instantly becomes a good, upstanding, flawless human being who only becomes an increasingly better and purer human being as their faith journey unfolds is a dangerous fantasy. Yes, we are redeemed. Yes, we are being made new in Christ. But we are still human—we will stumble and fall and sometime we will intentionally run in the opposite direction of God’s will all throughout our lives. However, if we’re honest about and confess our sinfulness, God will forgive us which is why we can approach our Heavenly Father without fear of condemnation because Jesus has redeemed us, stripping our unrighteousness from us and covering us in his own holiness even as our humanness continues to crave the very substance of our ruin and separation from our God and Creator.

Inevitably that craving overcomes us and we give in. We turn away from God because we want what we want more than we want what God desires and deserves—that, my dear friends, is the essence of sin. At some point the guilt and shame of our sinfulness overwhelms us leaving us with a choice:  We can either run farther away from God into sin to numb the shame and guilt that eats at us, or we can come out of hiding and face God and the truth of our own sinfulness that is all too apparent in his holy presence.

In these moments of conviction and in the repentance that follow we might approach God in a debasing guilt-ridden display, hoping our remorseful return might elicit some small amount of God’s compassion and forgiveness. Even though we’re assured that God is anxiously waiting to welcome us into his open arms as his beloved children with an inexhaustible grace, we too often insist on trying to earn God’s forgiveness with amends or good deeds. I’m not saying we shouldn’t try to rectify the consequences of our sinfulness but that we need to be absolutely clear that it is God’s amazing grace in his own act of redemption on the cross alone that ushers us back into his loving embrace and not any acts of contrition we might perform in hopes of redemption.

We can never earn God’s grace and yet we sometimes fall into the self-righteous trap of feeling that we must somehow work for it or suffer for our sinfulness in some way instead of humbly accepting this truly undeserved gift and reciprocating to it in gratitude and joy. Why do we do that? Maybe because our ways are not God’s way and if we were God, we’d expect someone to pay for what they’ve done to earn their redemption. It’s only fair—you do the crime, you pay the penalty. We just can’t wrap our minds around the concept of grace. We know that nothing good is ever free and if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. We expect to fight and claw our way out of our shame and back into God’s good graces. If we haven't “done the time” for our sin, we feel we don't deserve God's grace.....and really, that's the point. We don't deserve God's grace! Never have. Never will. 

God loved us before the world existed. From the very beginning, we were in his heart and he carefully created each of us to be the unique individuals we are. With great joy, his heart is drawn to watch over us. He diminished himself to our small, fragile form in the person of Jesus Christ to interact with us in a way we could understand and respond to. His Spirit is always with us guiding us. Even when we stubbornly follow our own will and not his, he doesn’t hate us or turn away from us. Rather he aches to welcome us back into his arms with joy. God’s love for us is so deep and true and perfect that even as the consequences of our sin unfolds, as eternal death and separation bears down on us like a Mack truck, Jesus runs out in front, pushing us out of the way to safety, and takes our place in death on the cross. By his sacrifice, he's paid the penalty for our sin and separated it from us as far as the east is from the west. God’s grace held our sin against his Son Jesus instead of us so that we could be together with him forever.

We only need to believe it. It's that simple. Believe. Our human pride may shout, "It can't be that simple!" But really it is. It's just hard. It's hard to believe and admit we don't have control over our lives. It's hard to give a God we can't fully comprehend, explain, or manipulate, authority over our entire existence. It's hard to admit that we are insufficient or lacking in anyway.

I’ve compared sin to addiction, but it’s so much more. Sin entered the world and permeated the very soul of mankind like radiation from a nuclear bomb. I grew up in the 70s and early 80s at the end of the cold war. Unlike my parents’ generation, we knew that hiding under our desks or in some backyard reinforced cement hole in the ground wasn't going to protect us when a nuclear bomb went off. If we were lucky enough to live far enough away from the blast zone, we wouldn’t instantly burn to ashes, but the radiation would contaminate the environment and any survivors on a molecular level forever mutating whatever lives. The sinfulness that entered the world with the bomb of that first sinful act is like radiation that forever mutated the soul of mankind. 

To think that we could eradicate sinfulness from our hearts by simply trying not to sin is foolish. Or that we can purge our sin with a balance sheet of good and bad acts is simply absurd. Only God can make clean what sin has stained and he did that in the Person of Jesus who died on the cross for us to satisfy God’s justice. Jesus rose from the dead unraveling the bonds of sin that restrain us. In the mystery of God’s power and grace, he redeems us and is transforming the very fabric of our souls from dark dungeons of sinfulness into holy temples of his Presence. He is in our hearts from the first moment of salvation, but the renewing and the transformation of our souls is a lifetime endeavor. God in us is eradicating the old and creating the new every day. And that is what we celebrate on Christmas – the coming of His light into our darkness.

Hope at the End of the Rope

 I’ve been thinking about my mother a lot lately as her health declines. Growing up, Mom was my teacher, counselor, cheerleader, protector…sometimes antagonist. Later on, she also became my best friend and confidant. Every single moment of my life she has been the one person on this earth who has loved me the most. Even in those moments when our relationship was strained, she wouldn’t hesitate to drop everything to love and support me anyway she could when I was in need or facing a challenge I couldn’t conquer alone. Sometimes she waited for me to call for her help and sometimes she didn’t. She would just show up and be there with me. I could always count on Mom to be there when I needed her. Of that there was no doubt. Sometimes it took longer than I wanted for her to get to me, but she always showed up.

I’ve known for a while how fortunate I am to have a mom like her but I didn’t truly understand how precious our relationship was until recently. My mom has Alzheimer’s and over the last six months, I’ve watched the mom I know disappear slowly into a fog that isn’t going to dissipate. So now I find myself grieving the loss of the mother I’ve known all my life while I care for the woman who remains. Sometimes it feels like I’m at the end of my rope suspended over a bottomless pit and I’m about to lose my grip and believe or not, that gives me hope because I know if I just let go, God’s hand will be there to catch me and set me back on solid ground. What I realized in my reflection is that while Mom was just being Mom all these years, she was also showing me a glimpse of how much my heavenly Father loves me. She is my mother but he is my Creator. He is the ultimate teacher, counselor, cheerleader, protector, friend and confidant. He knows and loves me completely even when I’m defiant or apathetic or blinded to his presence in my life. He sacrificed too much to abandon me now. God is faithful whether or not I feel his presence, God is here holding me up, strengthening and guiding me. Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1) That’s what makes faith so hard and so worth it.

Look for Jesus Wherever You Are

 In the years after God brought the Israelites out of Egypt, the people would move from place to place, following God as he led them through the desert. When they arrived at a place where they would stay a while, they would erect the Tabernacle first where the Ark of the Covenant sat and where the people would go to worship and pray. The Ark of the Covenant held the stone tablets with the Ten Commandments, Aaron’s staff and a pot of manna as a reminder to the people of God’s word and will, his power and provision. That tent was the physical symbol of God’s Presence—everywhere they were in camp, they could see the Tabernacle and know God was right there with them.  I wonder if when they saw the Tabernacle in the background while setting up their own tents and taking care of their flocks and their children, they felt God’s peace knowing that God was dwelling there among them and watching over them.

Maybe if I had a huge edifice like the Tabernacle ever in the background of my vision, I might feel as though God was more present in my day. But more likely it would just fade into the background the way things do when you become accustomed to them and begin to look right past them as if they weren’t even there. I don’t have a tabernacle to cart around with me but I don’t need one either. Jesus is the physical representation of the indescribable God, who makes clear for us God’s word and will, power and provision. I once had someone tell me to look for Jesus wherever I go because he is already there. And when life wasn’t so hard, it was easy to remember to take time to find Jesus in every place I went. But these days it’s become much easier to overlook him. He’s more or less faded into the background as I struggle to hold it together and make it through the day which is why I think I started writing again. Because I need to make myself take time to see where Jesus is in my life even if it’s only in hindsight.

This past week, I saw Jesus in the blessings of health and well-being for me and my family. In a few happy hours with family and friends on Thanksgiving. In the prayers of those who know and are supporting me through this difficult time. In comfortable traditions that bring back happy memories and silly stories that made me laugh. In the opportunities I was given to be a blessing to others. And right now, He is here helping me find the words to share.

Welcome Back!

 Six years ago, when I announced that I was ending my weekly devotionals here on this blog, I never thought I would be returning to it. God blessed me early in life with the gift of writing. First as an outlet for the things I did not dare say out loud and then as a means of nurturing and growing my faith. A few friends asked me to share my weekly musings with them and the next thing I know I had my own personal ministry to anyone God led to this blog. I stopped because I was struggling to write anything I felt was meaningful and I thought I had written everything God wanted me to share. At the same time, God was calling me to a new adventure in creating a unique grief program which I ran for several years. I thought I knew where I was going in life and what my future would be and then March 2020 happened and everything changed. My life has been surviving one crisis after another for the past 3-1/2 years and I find myself a little lost, well actually, a lot lost, and desperately trying to hold onto the peace and joy that is only found in Jesus and I’m failing miserably at it.

So here I am, keyboard under my fingertips and tapping out what is on my mind and in my heart in the hope that maybe God might just bring something wonderful out if it, a seed of truth that will grow into a flourishing garden of hope that brings peace and joy. These last three years, I’ve made it through a depressive episode, a mysterious medical issue, my father’s death and taking on the care of my elderly mother, as well as a sudden unexpected career change. Now my mother’s health is declining fast and I’ve got no fight left in me to pull me through. And while that would be a concern for some, I feel a sense of relief in this, knowing that in my weakness, God’s strength abounds. I don’t have to hold it together because he is and that gives me hope because he won’t fail. God is stronger than life’s challenges. I may come out of this all dinged up, but I will come out of it into a new day where he already is. This current trial is temporary. Someday, I will be on the other side of it and be able to look back and see how God carried me through it all and I am already grateful. And in that gratitude, his peace embraces my soul.

Wherever you are in your faith journey, no matter the circumstance, however strong or weak you may feel, I hope you know that God is holding it all together for you.