Do You Care?

When I consider your heavens

the work of your fingers….

What is man that you are mindful of him…

that you care for him.

You made him ruler over the works of your hands..

from Psalm 8

The Lord formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and man became a living being. Man is both of the earth and of heaven…filled with the breath of God. The Lord formed woman from the bone of man. He took the bone from man, formed the woman, then brought her back to him. The plan was a good one. “Lord, why do you care?”

I stood at the water’s edge trying to determine if the tide was coming in or going out. The pelicans gliding just above the water’s surface caught my attention. The air was still and I tried to allow my soul to become immersed in the rhythm of God’s creation. “What is man that You are mindful of him?” Why do you love us as you do when we wander so far from the plan? Why do you love us so much that You continue to pursue when we turn away and hide…rejecting your gift of life’s breath. Why do You care still, after all this time? Why did you delegate Your rule to us when You knew we would think it was our own? You wanted fellowship. We wanted autonomy. What is man that You would love him still when he can’t put down his need or his wants and instead, like the rich young ruler, turns and walks away, heavily burdened with sadness. 

Why? Why would You suffer for those who turn away and reject You? Why would you continue to love and suffer for those who are notoriously weak and unable to unclench their hands from their fears or who are so grievously self engrossed as to be unable to even see You standing in our midst. The gift You give is forgotten, lost in the busyness, put aside while we go on with the lives we create for ourselves. We have taken the authority you gave us and created our own little kingdoms where fear, selfishness, greed, anger, and bitterness shape our days. Yet, You do care. Your love never ends. The tides come in and the tides go out, washing away the words we speak…”I won’t” … ”I can’t”…”I don’t deserve it” … “I am unworthy”…Washing away the fear, the selfishness, the anger, the mistakes, the disappointments… Consistently, rhythmically, You bring us new life over and over.  Why?

When Dave and I reached our 23^rd anniversary we took a canoeing trip to the Great Smokey Mountains National Park. We paddled across Fontana Lake, up Hazel Creek to a beautiful camping area in a pine forest. Sometime during this trip, as we lay in our small tent, Dave suggested that for our 25^th anniversary that we throw a big party and renew our vows. My silent thought was that I wasn’t sure we’d make it to our 25^th. I thought it would be horribly dishonest to make vows to continue what I thought we had lost. At that time I felt all we had was a memory of our commitment. The revelation that the Lord gave me in 1974, as I drove my Volkswagen beetle home for spring break from UNC, was that Dave was the man with whom He would join me. That truth and the 3 children we were raising together were the ties that kept me from fleeing from what seemed long in the process of decay. Years of stressful circumstances had over time eroded the joy and playfulness of our marriage. Selfishness, weakness, inability, depression, family and work related anxieties piled up and smothered our peace. I was dreadfully tired and devoid of hope. The thought of the years dragging out with the past repeating itself made me cry out, “Lord, show us that You care. When I consider the heavens….what is man…? But, we are yours. You took the rib…you formed me…you took me to this man. You breathed life in our nostrils. We have not handled the responsibilities you honored us with. We don’t deserve your attention, much less your love that creates life out of death. But, please come.”

“What is man that you are mindful of him?” Man, to whom you gave so much freedom, took the gift and ran. Why did you go looking for him? Why did you call to him? Will you come this time? Do You love us with everlasting love? What does that love look like? Are You really mindful. Where are You in this mess? Have we screwed up beyond redemption?”

God is not a man. Man was formed by God from the dust. Love created and formed and shaped and then let go, allowing us the freedom to choose, to name, to rule. Did He know we would fail to live in His love? Did He know in 1976 that the man and woman He joined would find the life they had built together crumbling 20 years down the road? I believe He did, knowing that He would use it to continue His plan.

I hiked through the woods along the Eno River, pouring out my grief and my confusion, when I was stopped in my tracks before a decaying log. “Kick it”, the still small voice instructed. In doing so I realized that the death of the old would create a rich, loamy soil from which the new would grow. “Let it die.” Could I trust the Creator of the universe to grow a new life out of the old? Didn’t He need me? Why was I so afraid? Why did I feel so powerless, so hopeless? Why did life seem so meaningless?

To allow what was to die was a dreadful thought. To choose to trust in the Maker of this man and woman was to step onto the platform and let the noose settle around the neck of my self-rule. It was to take the authority to rule that was given to me and step under the umbrella of God’s rule, believing His rule is love. He asked me to choose without feeling, without seeing, without knowing what would come next. He asked me to return to basecamp and be reconciled to Him. He called to me to come out of my hiding place and confess my nakedness and my shame. He asked me to let Him love me. Why was this so hard? Why was I persistent in thinking I needed to make it right? Why did I think I needed to dress myself?

The fear that pounded in my chest took me far away from the love of the Creator. “I was naked and afraid.” I am tainted with shame. I have been wrong. I have failed. I have hurt You and another. I can’t do it. I fear punishment. I fear being found out. I am angry and bitter. I fear rejection. I fear seperation. And the list goes on. Reality was overwhelming. I wanted to hide. I retreated. I disappeared deep within myself. I wanted to succeed in dressing myself in love so I could come out into the light. But, I couldn’t.

When our daughter Rebekah was a preschooler she was fascinated with changing her clothes. Three or four times a day she would appear with a new outfit on. The combinations were creative and entertained us endlessly. She loved her pink “jellies” and her red, green, blue, and yellow striped skirt worn with her flowered top. Her brother Mark was equally in love with his outfit of cowboy boots, surfer shorts, and tank top worn days on end one summer. It was permissible to allow them the right to choose their own attire until it came time to dress for church. We couldn’t allow them to dress themselves, as they were not able. With great joy, I would dress my children in appropriate attire. I would fix Rebekah’s beautiful blonde curly hair and dress Mark up in sporty flannel pants and a red bow tie.

In this same way I had to present myself to my Father so that He might dress me in presentable clothing. Dave and I, in desperation, in all our shame, humbled ourselves before the representatives God sent to us. And they prayed on our behalf. They anointed us with oil. They walked alongside us. Slowly, the mystery of God’s love pealed back our layers of calluses. The challenge was to let go of what was, to lay down our agenda, to put aside our demands, and allow ourselves to be naked yet unashamed. Grace abounded through the love and patience of Christ’s ambassadors. I met weekly with friends God had anointed to bless me. They would wash me with prayers and dress me with love and acceptance. They would speak the truth of forgiveness and turn me toward God’s promised redemption.

And Dave and I made it to our 25^th  anniversary. We threw the big party. We renewed our vows and stepped out of the ashes, dressed in grace and forgiveness. The work of making that which is good out of all things continues on a daily basis. The wonder of God being mindful of us is a constant reminder of our need to humble ourselves and press on through this place in between. We marked our 34^th anniversary this year. The journey continues.

More Important

My mind, my thoughts, my heart has been drawn again to the many that I know or have known who battle the painful paralysis that depression inflicts. I attended a memorial service for a young man whose life was ended by suicide. I have watched another young man as he struggles with the dark cloud that stirs anger and drives a wedge between himself and those he loves. I have talked with my son who seeks to find a new means of relief from the body of death that he has carried for years. I have felt tears come to my eyes as my husband and I talk about the surety that his brother's cancer will take his life. I ask my husband, "Who are you talking to about this?" I ask who is pastoring him. And I remember the times when I too felt the blinding pain of depression.

As I have found myself dancing a slow dance with anxiousness, wanting to experience a healing miracle for all, I remember what God has taught me through the life of his Son.

In this lesson that follows, that I wrote for a group of middle schoolers, I see myself and my husband as the friends. We are desperate for these we love to be healed. We work hard to find solutions and we pray even harder for miracles. It is appropriate and acceptable that we do so. But, I remember that there is that which is even more important. Though it seems that Jesus is not focused on our greatest need, I am reminded that His ways are not mine and and so, I consciously practice yielding to His loving, compassionate forgiveness. I choose to believe it is what is more important.

from Luke 5:17-26

There was a paralyzed man who was being carried on a stretcher by his devoted friends through town. They were determined to get to see the man named Jesus. Jesus was in Capernaum, a city on the northeast shore of the Sea of Galilee. This was early in Jesus’ ministry, but already he was famous. The crowds would come from every town and village to hear him preach but more so to watch Him heal and to be healed. He was the most popular and unpopular public figure in the country. He was the rock star of the first century. He preached with authority. He stirred up the crowd with his new way of looking at the world. People would follow him for miles and for days. He was the healer of every kind of disease, the one who cast out demons, and the one who raised the dead. On this day the crowd that gathered was so large that the house where Jesus was teaching was jam-packed. There was standing room only, a true fire hazard.

There was tension in the room. The Pharisees and the Scribes had traveled from far and wide and were there in full force. These men were strong in their allegiance to the study of the Word. They were sure they knew what was right and were ready to catch Jesus in the errors of His teaching. For them, it was all about getting it right at all cost. Their defense of what them deemed right was often more important than people. But, Jesus had a way of taking the ancient teachings and turning them inside out and upside down. He was a threat to established religion. He never seemed to answer your questions the way you wanted. He had a way of turning them back on you. He was really hard to pin down. He was like no man they’d ever confronted and he was stirring the common folks. These men felt pressed to get things under control.

Into this setting came these men carrying their friend on the stretcher. They were on a mission. They were determined to get their friend to the feet of Jesus, believing that if they could that Jesus would heal him. Getting this friend on his feet was their goal. They were a force to be reckoned with. Their focused passion would not be satisfied by standing on the outside looking in. They didn’t give up when they arrived to find the crowd impenetrable. The house had a flat roof with an outside staircase. They quickly took that route. They were driven by the vision of their friend walking out of that house. They thought they knew what was best. They thought they knew what would make their friend whole. What came next was not what they expected.

They dug away at the roof’s structure. They lowered the whole stretcher, with the man on it, through the hole (now talk about stopping the flow of a lecture). With the man at Jesus’ feet, they waited expectantly for the Healer to reach out and touch their friend and empower him to stand and walk. How shocked…maybe even angered they were when they heard these words “Your sins are forgiven.”

Try to imagine this. The men had risked their status in the community to get for their friend what they thought was the best thing…a whole, healthy body. What an amazing act of devotion. But, what do they hear from the man they believed could and should heal. Imagine the disappointed thoughts and words perhaps spoken by the man on the stretcher: “Ah, Jesus, sir, maybe you don’t understand…With all due respect, I’m sure you are not blind…but, maybe you didn’t notice, maybe you are distracted…ah, I'm not able to walk, you see…I came to be healed. What’s this about my sins? I don’t understand. I’m a good person. I’m a family man. I’m faithful. I didn’t do anything wrong.” What he didn’t understand was that sin in its most basic definition is not about what we do but is about who we are. Sin is what must be addressed first and foremost.

Jesus never let’s us settle for what is less than His best. He always wants to take us to the most basic level…to the very origin of the problem. He won’t leave us satisfied to remain on the surface. Here, it is not the man’s body that was most important. It was not the goal of healing his body that was most important…though He would get to that. No, Jesus was going to show them all what was really important. They all needed to understand what was most important. Forgiveness of our sins is our most basic need.

Like all stories we find multiple layers under this primary theme. Jesus always spoke pointedly regarding his primary focus, but always took advantage of a given situation to impact the lives of everyone on stage.

In this story, we see a multifaceted drama of fellowship taking place:

•       the fellowship of the men who desperately loved their friend. Jesus was not oblivious to the loving efforts of the friends….no; he recognized the value of loving one another. In fact, much of the His teaching was on this very topic.
•       the paralyzed man, dependent on his friends and who desperately wanted to be whole. Jesus did care deeply about the man’s paralyzed body…in fact if we continue in the story we see that Jesus does heal the man, who picks up his mat and walks away.
•       the fellowship of teachers of the law who desperately loved their religion. It is not that Jesus was unaware of his conflict with the teachers of the law or the need to teach them the truth, in fact throughout the gospels we hear him teaching in the synagogues
•       Jesus, who desperately loved them all enough, set up HIS kingdom where the forgiveness of sins is the foundation on which all the wants and      perceived needs of men find their realization…though maybe in a different way than man might think.

The reality is that Jesus knew that everyone in this crowd needed to hear: “Your sins are forgiven.” Without the forgiveness of sin there can be no fellowship in His Kingdom.This is what sets the fellowship of Christians apart from the fellowship of friends, the fellowship of the “religious” community, or the fellowship of the members of a society, a company, a team, a class, or  a club. The friends of this man forgiven by Jesus were devoted. No doubt they loved him as family. The teachers of the law were devoted. They thought they knew what the best was. They were passionate and zealous. All of them hoped that Jesus would be the answer they perceived was needed and therefore they were seeking. What they didn’t know was that He was THE answer and offered more than they could understand. What none of them could understand was that their need went beyond the healing of the body or discovering the “right” teaching. More than anything else, they all needed their sins to be forgiven. And Jesus had the authority to do just that and in fact did just that, even before we knew to ask.

It is the work of Christ in His authority to forgive sins that this or any crowd of opposing and diverse people can be united in fellowship.

Jesus knew that the man needed forgiveness more than he needed his body healed and gave forgiveness freely before the man understood.

God so loved the world that He gave his son. God had a plan and put it in motion. His plan was to send Jesus. Jesus would pay the price and set us free from our paralysis due to sin even when we weren’t aware that we needed him.

Lamentations

I wrote this several years ago when I feared I might lose my son to drugs and depression. Today, I heard that a young man that I knew as a boy ended his life. His mother's fear has become reality. 

HOW?

I am passing through a place that has reached through to the center of me and stirred familiar cries of lament. Though somewhat familiar and therefore less threatening now, there was a time when I was frightened by my response to such a place of  exile. I would call on all my resources to attempt to fix, or at least deaden, what seemed so wrong. It is a place that is “otherly”. It can feel complicated and confusing, yet at the same time it is mysterious and powerful. It is a universal place taking the shape of a cave outside Jerusalem where Jeremiah wrote his lamentations to God concerning the destruction of Jerusalem.  It takes the shape of the broom tree under which Elijah wept, spent by his encounter with the worshipers of Baal, and now fearing he was all alone. In this place even the weight of the air immobilizes you, weighing you down, putting pressure on your mind and soul. This place of lamentations is isolating. It sets you apart. And I, like most all of us, instinctively try to make the “bad” feelings go away. I want to “do it right” so as be comfortable and happy.. I want the suffering to end. I plead for mercy. I cannot keep silent. I have to speak. I have to cry. Through it all there are those that want me to “shush”, to be happy, to get over it, to be all right. I, too, want to be all right, as I think “all right” cannot include such feelings and thoughts..

I have found trying to whitewash my lamentations only causes shame to seep through my efforts and hopelessness to entangle me in its web. Unless I am honest and forced to take all that is within outside myself and offer it as a sacrifice of self, holy and acceptable to the One we offend, I’ll not be able to learn how to dwell in this land of exile until delivered and taken home. Unless I allow lament to express my questions I will not be able to find the Answer. I will never benefit from the worship and transformation that awaits me. Times of lamenting work like a fire in my bones to create anew.

Then I come to see with new eyes. At first it is like catching the sight of the shadow of a ship passing in the fog.  That which first forces its way into words that shout “WHY?” and “PLEASE” and “HOW?” also forces me into the reality of Christ’s Kingdom. It is the promised new birth longed for. This force that demands I cry out, that brings that which is inside out, also, leaves my mouth empty when I am spent. I come to the end of my lament when I have exhausted all words, all reason, all demands, all questions. Only here, after all is released and lay blooded in the hands of my Deliverer God that I can see the new birth. My lament is necessary. My lament is the expression of the labor of creation. My lament is an expression of worship as I could never understand when I would strive so hard to flee or be silent. Fear of what I could not control and unbelief of that which I could not understand kept me from entering in. When I first took a step of faith to follow Christ I didn’t know that I would enter into His lament of suffering as well.

We have heard Christ’s lament through many voices. Moses cried, ”Let my people go!” only his words fell on a hardened heart. The children led out of Egypt by God’s strong arm fell back into idolatry while Moses was away. Their fear and unbelief drove Moses back to the mountain full of lament and he called on the mercy of God to save them and give them new life. Samuel grieved with God as the people rejected Him in their worldly desire for a king. David cried bitterly when Nathan called him to see his sin. He lamented. He locked himself in his room and refused to eat. He covered himself in ashes, hoping for mercy. Elijah, having been”very zealous for the Lord”, but now his life in danger, fearing he was all alone, fled to a cave where God met him and fed him and gave him rest. Over and over we hear the cry of God through His people for His people. We hear His mercy without end poured out through the voices and the tears of His chosen ones.

The best of the Children of Israel were carried off into captivity by the Babylonians. WHY? They were the children of promise; they should have been spared, right? Where was God’s grace and mercy? When they got there the false prophets said it would only be for a little while. But, God said differently. Set up your households. Dwell in the land. It will be a long time…70 years. WHY? This is not God’s will! Doesn’t God want us to be happy and to live the abundant life, without these entanglements? GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? This is not what I understand your will to look like. This doesn’t look like steadfast love to me. It looks like abandonment, even rejection.

I can hear the FATHER speak to himself. Can you hear the father or mother in you saying this:  “I despise having to do this. It grieves me to discipline these children. They just don’t get it. They don’t understand. They are not able. Unbelief, disbelief, and misbelief harden their hearts. How WILL they ever understand if I keep holding their hands? How will they ever truly understand ME unless they lose what they think they must have, what they think they deserve?  They have missed the mark. Their thinking is askew. Their eyes are blinded. They have chosen falsehood. They have put their trust in that which they can manage. I have to stop this madness or they will be lost for good. I cannot allow them to continue to live in the darkness of their own minds. I love them too much to spare them My righteous judgments. I will not settle for less than the best…My best; not what they think is best.”

But, isn’t that the Old covenant? Don’t we live on this side of the cross, in the new covenant? Shouldn’t it be different now that we are living in grace? Christ came to feed, to give water, to heal, to set free, to unstop deaf ears, to give sight to the blind, even to raise the dead. Yes, He came that we might have life and have it more abundantly. Isn’t this all said and done? Hasn’t he delivered us from all that is not all right? This is truth, right? Is there need for lament this side of the grave?

Yes, for there is suffering. The cries of “How?” are still voiced. We continue to bewail our grievous woes. We must. Millions are starving and dying of thirst.  Prisons remain in every country. Divorce still results from unresolved differences and failure to understand one another. Accidents still happen. Lives are lost, both spiritual and physical.

I lament. God doesn’t heal the rampant force of Bi-polar disorder that colors all the generations of my family. How then do I live, when I’m convinced I’m not able? How do I live with the daily losses in my life? How do I live with the evidence of dreams shattered by sin and limitations and the painful reality that “we know not what we do”.  How do I dwell in this place between the two comings of Christ? How do I wait? How do I think about my God who seems to disappear and dwell far away when the darkness of my own Gethsemene swallows my best attempts to believe? HOW?

What God does is contrary to our way of thinking. He doesn’t fix it. At least not how we think he should.  He doesn’t come home to us one day and say, “Here is the deed to a new house in the country and funds with which to live comfortably until the end of your days. And I promise there will be no weeping or wailing or pain or sorrow.” Or does He?  I venture to say He does fix it. BUT, it is in the form of an inheritance, a TRUST FUND, set up for us in heaven. It is a surety that is ours IN CHRIST. But, this place is NOT heaven.  My problem has been that I thought, like the prodigal son, that it should be heaven and therefore I could demand my inheritance and the right to benefit completely from it now and thus be spared the sorrow of this life. I thought I should be allowed to bypass all of that which causes me to lament and go straight to heaven…better yet, have heaven set up here…the whole house, all the rooms… Not even have to finish the journey…. Certainly not have to feel and give voice to the emotions of lamenting.

My ways are not your ways nor my thoughts your thoughts, says God over and over.

What have I learned through my journey through this life thus far? What do the cries that explode from my soul say about me? And what do they teach me about God? What is the place of sovereign lament in our lives and in the lives of the community of believers? What do questioning tears and chest-wrenching sobs have to do with helping us to discover the purpose of life: to know God and enjoy Him forever?

Oswald Chambers says, “What is my dream of God’s purpose? His purpose is that I depend on Him and on His power now. If I can stay in the middle of the turmoil calm and unperplexed, that is the end purpose of God. His end is the process – I see Him walking on the waves, no shore in sight, no success, no goal, just the absolute certainty that it is all right because I see Him walking on the sea. This is what glorifies God.” Chambers focuses our attention on Christ as the storm continues to crash and we are forbidden the luxury of being in control. He challenges us to make Christ our focal point as the labor and delivery takes over. Our lament is our expression of faith and releases us from our own attempts to be in charge.

Jesus’ answer to the man who asked what he must do to DO the works of God was “Believe”. It is faith that pleases God. Read Hebrews 11 to see examples of lives that were pleasing to God because they lived through faith. I will be bold to say each life listed in this Hall of Faith was expressed by sovereign lament. In the midst of the fire, through the sacrifice of that which was most precious; the leaving behind of home and family; living the life of a fool who built a boat on dry land; going but not knowing where; living as an alien in the land. All of these died without receiving the promise. They confessed they were strangers and exiles on the earth. And I doubt this made them feel happy, at least not in a worldly sense. Cries of lament, holy lament, if there is such a thing, were likely their most honest expressions of life. They each found at the end of their laments that they were and had been in the hand of God and that was enough. That which they lamented for was not the end. Was it not more so the means, the transportation, the bus, (to use C.S. Lewis’ imagery) to the promised land, to Christ’s Eternal Kingdom, to oneness with Christ by faith?

In lamenting, we not only allow the heart of God to capture us, we give His voice words and cries and groans. We come into a passionate interface with God himself. Like Jacob we wrestle through the night, demanding a blessing, but in the end find ourselves marked for life with a holy limp. That limp is the mark of God’s hand on us. It is his blessing that we asked for though it doesn’t look like what we thought.

Christ Himself showed us the way through lament to new birth. I can see the Lord of creation, hanging on the cross, crying out, “Forgive them for they know not what they do”… I can see the force of His lament in the process of giving me new birth, transforming me bit by bit from one who knows not, to one who by faith understands. I can know why. I can know how. Christ and His suffering and lament has entered me and is putting flesh on these dry bones. The desire of God’s heart is being given a shape and form.

Before He wrestled with the cup presented to him in the dark night of his soul in Gethsemene, Christ prayed for the disciples and for those who would later come to believe. He knew what was coming next, though He knew no one could go with him. He entered the Garden and felt then the beginning of the end. His best friends would fail him. They would not be able to stay. They were afraid of the path Christ was taking. Yet, Christ continued to walk into betrayal and rejection. It wasn’t the way it was supposed be, they thought and we say. But, it seldom is. Christ’s lament in the upper room, in the garden, through His silent lament in the presence of the high priest, and His words on the cross, opened the door to that which is greater than our imaginations can fathom…perfect life moving into death’s grip, then breaking free and anew to a resurrected life… A new life where the past is the past, what was is left in the grave, where forgiveness is complete, and love is forever without expectations. In and through Christ all will be, all is completed, finished… For us, who know not what we do.

Now, by faith, we travel every day on the path Christ traveled, and if we allow Him to be in us and we accept the faith and courage to remain we will live it all, the full, complete, and abundant life. We will join in His suffering and cry out with him on our cross. We will each become a living sacrifice and die to ourselves, little by little. And our cries, our groans, our wails, our pleading to know “How?” will yield to the sweet incense of transforming worship..the expressions of incomprehensible joy and gladness.

The Lord is my Shepherd Again

I wrote this years ago for a group of women at Blacknall Presbyterian Church. And post it today for myself to read. Maybe you need to read it too.

The Lord is My Shepherd
I shall not want
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures
he leadeth me beside still waters
he restoreth my soul.
He leadeth me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil
for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me
in the presence of mine enemies:
Thou annointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow
me all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever

Psalm 23 KJV

This is likely the most famous Psalm in America, if not the world. As a 3rd grader, at Davie Ave. Elementary School in Statesville, NC, I memorized this psalm and other bible verses, in exchange for a certificate of accomplishment at the year’s end. Only, in the South in the late 50’s and early 60’s could you get away with violating the separation of State and Church.. Through those years of teaching and memorizing, I was imprinted with an image of Jesus that was enhanced by Sunday School lessons, fans in the pew racks at Forest Park Presbyterian church, and Miss Knight’s bible class, complete with flannel board and the first verse of “Onward Christain Soldiers” sung every other Tuesday morning in the cool, damp, basement classroom at school.

It would be many years later before this imprinted image would be reexamined and the Jesus painted on my mind’s canvas would begin to look different and I would begin to see and grasp, if only minutely, the evidence of authority and sacrifice in the life of Christ. No longer did Jesus look like he walked off a Cecil B.DeMille movie set. As Jesus grew more REAL to me, and my own reality more exposed by His light, the depths of truths in this psalm began to be revealed.

We don’t know exactly when David wrote this Psalm. It is my thought that it was deep into his relationship with the Lord. The images that we will examine express a relationship with David’s Shepherd that only could have grown out of experiences that tested him and refined him. David’s psalm is spoken by one who knows the reality of security through abandonment into the care of his Shepherd King.

If we had the time to examine David’s life thoroughly, we would be able to look closely at his growth in the Lord from the days of being a Shepherd boy through his call and anointing as the king of Judah and Israel. We would see him struggle through the valley of the shadow of death … a valley long in years of conflict, running, and hiding as King Saul pursued and David actively waited for the time when the promised throne would become his. We would see him grow as God’s anointed King and see his love for his Sovereign Lord grow deep and rich as he fought through the battles and is given victory over the enemies of God’s people. Through all these years David would be filled with joy and “dance before the Lord with all his might.”

We would see that this man after God’s own heart was also as truly human as the rest of us when we see him grieve the death of his soul mate/soul brother Jonathan. And then, later, well into his kingship… “In the Spring, at a time when kings go to off to war…David remained in Jerusalem” (2 Samuel 11:1). This was to set forth a wave of events that would impact the rest of his life.Bearing the consequences of not being where he was supposed to be, we would see him wrestle with his own temptations and grieve over the results of his own selfishness when he sent Bathsheba’s husband to the warfront, so that he might end up with this other man’s wife . We would see him yield himself to the Lord in the midst of his valley of the shadow of death when the prophet Nathan brings the Lord’s rebuke upon him. Then, when his son, by Bathsheba, died and later when rape and murder are committed by his other sons, we would see David mourn and weep.

Yet, through all the darkness David sang praises to the Lord….my rock…my fortress…my deliverer …my refuge…my shield…my stronghold…my savior…”I called to the Lord, who is worthy of praise…The waves of death swirled about me. The cords of the grave coiled around me; the snares of death confronted me. In my distress I called to the Lord; I called out to my God.” (2 Samuel 22)

The Lord is my Shepherd

So, we have seen that David knew this Lord when he was a shepherd boy as the years carried him to green pastures and still waters along paths of righteousness. He knew this same Lord to lead him through the valley of the shadow death. He learned through all this to allow the Lord to lead him. It was not always sweet and easy. Whether through the valley of the shadow of death or in the quiet green pastures along shores of still waters…whether through battles or times of peace… David followed the One he loved and trusted. Along the paths of righteousness he followed if even in a round about way. Along these paths he came to understand himself honestly. He was not the Shepherd.

I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures

He leadeth me beside still waters

He restoreth my soul.

Through it all David came to know that he was a sheep. He maketh me…He leadeth me …green pastures…still waters … peace, well-being, absence of fear, of conflict…He learned through what he suffered that he needed a source beyond himself that would “free him from fear, deliver him from conflict with others of his kind, protect him from pests and parasites, and satisfy his hunger.” See, these are the needs of sheep, according to Phillip Keller, author of A Shepherd’s Look at the 23rd Psalm and a shepherd as well.

David had spent years amongst his father’s flocks. He knew sheep to be powerless, easily frightened, and in great need of the shepherd. And he knew that it was the shepherd’s responsibility to meet the needs of the sheep. He knew the sheep were not capable of living without the care of the shepherd. Nor was he.. “I shall not want…I shall not lack..I shall not be deficient of…I shall not be found incomplete….It was the shepherd’s responsibility to find green pastures in a dry and arid land. It was the shepherd’s resposibility to find still, unmoving waters that would not frighten the sheep..from which they could drink.

Let me ask you…Do you know that you are the sheep of His pasture? Do you know that you are NOT the shepherd? It is vital that we know that WE DON”T HAVE TO BE THE SHEPHERD !!! David gave himself fully to the relationship and I think he was able to do so because he knew the shepherd and he knew himself. He knew that the only way he would be able to find his way was by following. He also knew that the givens of this not-yet-fully-realized redeemed world…fear, conflict, parasites, hunger, even death …are not tolerable, much less walked through, without the guidance of the shepherd. Without trusting the shepherd to lead the way through the valley of the shadow of death, evil will generate fear. All forms and shapes of evil will invade our senses and paralyze us.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil:

for Thou art with me”

You are a sheep. You don’t have to save yourself. That fear you feel…of failing…of loss…of rejection…. of losing control….the conflict and friction you feel…between family members, with your spouse, with coworkers, within yourself….Those parasites that seek to suck the life out of you…cluttered schedules, over-whelming work and/or family responsibilities, weakness (physical, emotional, and mental), depression, illness…the hunger you feel …loneliness, longing for heaven, desire for change …. All of this is real and part of this place we are traveling through…part of that which the sheep are led through. Through this place the shepherd leads. The evil is real but so is the Shepherd and greater is He that is with you than the evil that lurks in the shadows.

“For Thou art with me…. Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me”

Imagine…see the shepherd of your soul with His rod and his staff in hand. He is taking you along a narrow path along the side of a steep incline toward a narrowing valley. You are clueless…you are a sheep. With his rod of discipline and authority he keeps you on the path of righteousness. Not by beating you down but by guiding. When you wander he rescues you with his staff. With His right hand he fights off the enemies of the flock and keeps you safe, even at the cost of his own life. One of you wanders away and becomes lost. The shepherd searches far and wide until that sheep is found. Passage through the valley is a long and arduous process. It is the responsibility of the Shepherd to lead the sheep through. The sheep know His voice and follow.

How many times do you find yourself in a place that feels weighed down with a cold blanket of darkness in the depth of a valley. That which you must do seems to be impossible. The difficulty of what lies before you feels impossible or frightening and you hear yourself cry out to the Lord, “I CAN’T DO THIS !!”

Or maybe you have wandered off and found yourself lost … lost in the brambles of this world, tangled up in busyness, duty, or daily drudgery, turned upside-down by circumstances beyond your control. You wake up to find you are disconnected from the flock and from the shepherd. You are alone and isolated by your self’s natural inclination to try to “go it alone”. Maybe you feel you have fallen off the edge and are stuck. Maybe you have been there so long that you fear your soul will never be restored.

I have this raised platform in my backyard. I often go out there at night and lay on my back and look up through the trees at the sky. There were many times over the years when I would lay there and cry out to my Shepherd….Lord, please be real…please be true to your promises … please be, in my life, the Shepherd I have read about in Your word.

I had already learned through my late 30’s and early 40’s that I was not the Shepherd, but a sheep… (and that, my friends, was a long learning experience for this southern girl who made a vow EARLY in her childhood that she had to take care of herself). Now, as a sheep lying on this altar in the backyard, I tried to understand why I had to experience such pain. The grief I felt was frightening. Sometimes, I wanted to die. I thought I would die. I felt my shepherd would never come. I feared I would not make it through the valley of the shadow of death. I couldn’t see. I was frightened. I could not find faith in my being. All that I thought to be true seemed to taunt me. In the midst of this frightening trek through a dark valley, I heard, “CHOOSE to trust the ONE who leads.”

Many of you have been, maybe are even now, in a place like this. A place that is suffocating you with fear, anger, sorrow, confusion, or simply dullness. Do you ask, as I do, “What do you want me to do, Lord?” As though we actually COULD do something to save ourselves. What if the question was turned around and instead you heard Him say, “What do you want me to do for you?”

Does He really say this to us in this day and time? Does He really intervene in the affairs of our day? Does He hear when we come to him with our child who “is thrown into the fire” by multiple “issues”…health, mental, emotional, financial…all of which feels “horrible, exceptionally stressful, exceptionally difficult”. It is a situation in which understanding is difficult to find and the child has been seen by scores of doctors and travelled down multiple paths trying to discover the way to wholeness.. Does He search for this child…this sheep that has not yet learned to recognize the shepherd’s voice. Do I believe? Do you believe?

My sister has sent me an e-mail message, a note, or a card everyday since my birthday in January. It is her gift to me for my 50th birthday….the gift of daily contact/encouragement for a year. This was her message to me a few weeks ago as we entered the Lenten season. She sent me a message from the Shepherd….a promise of hope as He leads me through.

Two small and vaguely human figures with furry feet are running desperately through the forest night trying to escape horrors unseen, but urgently sensed. They are running for their lives. They reach the top of a hill, and what they see in the moonlight terrifies them. Orcs! They must hide. Hide in the darkness of tall grass! Too late. They’ve been spotted. The Orcs are coming -- lumbering, powerful, without pity. Suddenly, the night air is split by the shrill screeching of giant eagles swooping down from their mountain perches. Elves show up to join the fray, then fierce Dwarfs. The horrific sounds of warfare clash and echo as each group claws, beats, screams, stabs, and mutilates the others in efforts to win the victory. Trolls, Dark Riders, Goblins, and Wizards arrive, adding their weapons and their voices to the cacophony. The carnage is awesome! The little ones hiding in the tall grass freeze, hunkering down, hoping to be invisible. Will those defenseless Hobbits survive the night, or will the forces of the Dark Lord have their way?

We, my friends, are the little Hobbits hiding in the tall grass. We are trapped in the battle between the Dark Lord and the True Lord, helpless and often hopeless. Somehow we must be rescued, Some One must help, because we cannot rescue ourselves. Without rescue, we will perish. This is our faith: that the True Lord has asserted his dominion over the Dark Lord and all his forces. The sacrifice of the True Lord himself has saved us when we could not save ourselves.

Let us remember that, through the resurrection of Jesus, the True Lord changed the rules of battle. There are still Orcs out there, and Trolls, Dark Riders, even Oliphants. They will be waiting in ambush to grab us whenever they find opportunity to use us for their own purposes.

But all things are new because of Jesus, who is the True Lord. We are no longer helpless and hopeless and afraid. We are marching in the Light of God.

We pray to you, True Lord: save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil. The Kingdom is yours, now and forever.

Dallas Cronk

This is reality. As much as we may want to leave out portions of this Psalm 23. We can’t just dwell in the green pastures by the still waters. The fact is, most often we can’t get to the green pastures lest we go through the valley. We must live out the whole story with the promise of victory before us. We must believe that the eagles will come…have come..

Thou preparest a table before me

in the presence of my enemies

As I write this we are one week into the season of Lent. Christ has turned his face toward Jerusalem. He fears no evil. I do, but He doesn’t. He knows where he has come from and where he is going. I’m lost in the dark most of the time. He leads us on. We follow. The table is set. The oil is in abundance. But, the victory that is assured and the celebration that is promised is not without a cost to the Shepherd. Yet, he is not ashamed to endure what he must. For the Joy set before Him….Christ, our Shepherd King, laid his life down and in doing so His enemies/our enemies are defeated.

Aren’t you thankful that you don’t have to be the Shepherd. You don’t have to be the responsible one who takes care of making your spiritual journey a success. You don’t have to figure out the way you must go. You don’t have to determine how transformation is possible. You don’t have to make yourself holy through disciplines of your own making. The Lord is the Shepherd.

The Lord is….He maketh me…He leadth me… He restoreth my soul….He leadeth me…

Thou art with me … Thy rod and Thy staff …. Thou preparest a table …

Thou annointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over…..

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow

me all the days of my life:

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever

Our Lord leads us on paths of righteousness for His name’s sake … He calls us to follow, trusting Him to be in our lives, in our everyday events as He is in the Word. This is the only way to get to the end of the Psalm…where goodness and mercy follow us all the days of our lives…and we dwell in the house of he Lord forever. …Amen and Amen

On the Outside

There are times when I recognize that I am watching myself as though I am someone else. Some might call this a psychological disorder. I call it processing, coping, or even sometimes vacation. See, there are times when it can be a bit wearisome being me. A friend said once that she had not met someone quite so intense as I. Early in our marriage, my husband told me I just wore him out with all my talking.  And as I have gotten older, I think I can understand why, as I weary myself with all my thinking. So, I have learned ways to live with myself. And one of these ways is to step back and observe and, from that perspective offered by a bit of distance, I am more able to make choices for what comes next. So, here I am on the outside, looking in.

It has been almost 2 months since my father died. The books and articles say on average it takes someone about 4 months before the weight of grief begins to lessen. But, every journey I have taken through grief is as different as the relationship from which I have been severed. Each loss is unique. Each time the space in and around me is altered and therefore, I too, am changed. And each time I mourn uniquely. 

Not surprisingly, the loss of my father's presence in my life has affected all of me ... mind, body, and spirit. But, I it seems that I feel it the most in my body. Many days have been marked by a sense of being immobilized, heavy with fatigue that has been akin to moving through the thick humid air on a hot summer day in North Carolina. I'm slowed down. I don't sleep consistently. I wake tossing and turning and often climb out of bed when it is still dark and sit on the porch until the sun rises. There is no spontaneous movement into activity... no "get up and go". Everything seems to require a conscious choice. From this vantage point from without, I know this is normal. My soul and body are on the way. I know I won't feel this way forever. With a little distance, I can treat myself with kindness and grace.

“There can be no knowledge without emotion. We may be aware of a truth, yet until we have felt its force, it is not ours. To the cognition of the brain must be added the experience of the soul.” Arnold Bennett (1867-1931)
"No amount of knowledge can prepare us for bereavement. Grief is the most intense and enduring emotion we can experience. No quick fix. No short-cut. An ancient African saying is “There is no way out of the desert except through it.” Knowledge of the grief process gives us a very generalized map of the terrain we have to cover. Each of us will take a different route. Each will choose his own landmarks. He will travel at his own unique speed and will navigate using the tools provided by his culture, experience, and faith. In the end, he will be forever changed by his journey." Click here to read all of this article offered by hospicenet.org.

And since life all about me keeps moving, each day I stir myself, clothed in my lethargy, and move into the mainstream. I move with the current. If you fall out of your boat when paddling a white water river you need to put your head back and your feet up and let the river take you feet first to where the energy dissipates and the water calms. I think I'm doing alright. I see that my feet are up. I'm moving. I know that there is an end to this. The waters will carry me to a new place. I know change has been and is being forced upon me.

I sat in the dentist chair this morning, having several 40+ year old fillings replaced. It was necessary. It was time. They were "leaking", the dentist said. Eventually, there would be decay if the work was not allowed. I had put it off in spite of the ugly stains and the sensitivity to hot and cold. I didn't want to endure the process. That hour left me feeling spacey and tired and emotionally raw. But, there is a new smile on this side of the process. So it goes with grief. It is necessary. It must be endured. Even though I know it will strip, empty, and exhaust me, grief must be allowed to do it's work of transformation. Looking in from the outside, I have just enough space to allow for the right choice. Grief will have it's way and when the work is done, my mourning will be turned into dancing.

Fragments

Sometimes the pieces tell the story better than the whole. I have kept a journal since my years at the University of North Carolina. Sometimes I go back through one of these and look at what has been highlighted to see if there is a pattern or if there is something I have forgotten that needs to be remembered. This morning as I sat on the porch, trying to wake from my grogginess, I needed words but could not write anything new. So, I flipped back through the pages and the last 4 months. Here are the fragments from along the way.

Daddy's cancer is on the move
Saying goodbye
Grief
Tired, numb
Is there anything I can do
I know grief is the evidence that death is the result of something gone horribly wrong..it was not part of        the original plan
Truth in the midst of life, death, and resurrection
Shout with joy to God. You brought us into prison...you brought us to a place of abundance
Come and listen.
I cry out for you hand of mercy to heal me. Craig Musseau
http://www.worship.co.za/ww/ww-0108.asp
I am wrung out...feeling a little anxious
In the course of time..
It does not, therefore, depend on man's desire or effort, but on God's
In that day...
If the Lord is God, follow Him
It is He who has made us and not we ourselves
For the Lord is good and His steadfast love endures forever
Listen. Be careful
He brought you out in order to bring you in
Lay Back the Darkness. Kate Campbell
http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/k/kate_campbell/lay_back_the_darkness.html
At that time..you will sorrow no more
Just as I watched over them to uproot and tear down and overthrow, destroy and bring disaster
So will I watch over them to build and to plant
Rise up Lazarus
Continue letting go
Hold onto courage and hope
Do not harden your heart
"This task before me may seem unclear But it, my Maker holds". Bebo Norman
http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/b/bebo_norman/the_hammer_holds.html
He is able to sympathize with my weaknesses
Diligence .. go on .. New
He sets aside the first to establish the second
You need to persevere
Trust...acknowledge...fix your gaze...do not swerve
Practice forgiveness
There is Hope. Stuart Townend
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyMWBx6vvJo
It is finished..nothing else to do..Harmony and Peace promised.
Practice gratitude
Lord of the Living Come Live Here. Michael Kelly Blanchard 
Trust. Do good. Delight. Commit. Be still. Wait. Refrain from anger.
Forgetting what lies behind, straining toward. Eagerly await. He will transform.
Praise. Worship. Rid yourself of .. Repent.
Forgive us
Live in harmony
He himself is our peace
Follow Me
Come Holy Spirit
May your blessing be on your people
A shoot will come up
Come down my pride, stand back my passions .. I wait for God to bless me
Loss reveals
Daddy died
Do not let your heart be troubled .. Trust
Aslan is on the move
Love Lives On. Michael Kelly Blanchard
We Shall All Be Reunited. Patty Griffin
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/pattygriffin/weshallallbereunite.html

Redeemed

Redeemed

hymn by Fanny J. Crosby
tune by William J. Kirkpatrick

 Redeemed, how I love to proclaim it!
Redeemed by the blood of the Lamb:
Redeemed through His infinite mercy,
His child, and forever, I am.

REFRAIN:
Redeemed,
Redeemed,
Redeemed by the blood of the Lamb;
Redeemed,
Redeemed,
His child, and forever, I am.


 I know there’s a crown that is waiting
In yonder bright mansion for me;
And soon with the spirits-made-perfect,
At home with the Lord I shall be.

A few years back a friend returned from a marriage enrichment seminar and I had to ask her what was the main focus. I expected a list of “do rights” that would help make our marriages better, producing the fruits of contentment, soulfulness, and meaning.  But, I was surprised to hear her say that the theme was redemption. How does redemption define the purpose of marriage? How does the reality of Christ paying the price to buy us back from captivity to sin work in our marriages and in our lives with one another in the world?

To redeem means to deliver from evil by payment of a price…to ransom.  It is through redemption that freedom is secured for the condemned. We are the condemned. Our sins imprison us and our lives are marked for death. Our only hope is that someone come and set us free.

Spiritual redemption is costly and achieved by a great act of love and at a great cost to the one who redeems. This freedom is gained through the substitution and complete atoning sacrifice of self to death.  The goal is freedom and life.

Redemption begins with Christ, not us.  For, we find ourselves bound up tightly, in the small place that sin creates. We experience the shackles of selfishness clamped tightly around our hearts.  We struggle to set ourselves free from our infirmities.  We bang our heads against the wall of our own limitations and the limitations of others that create fears, unbelief, inability, meaninglessness, and lack of understanding. When we sing the words of the hymns we know that something is not right.  We know we are not yet to the Promised Land.  We long for the “crown that is waiting”.

In a time when the walls seemed hard and cold and the darkness threatened to smother my life, I would lay on the platform in our backyard and cry.  “Lord, I cannot save myself.  I cannot heal myself.  I cannot redeem myself from this prison.  Please allow me to experience the redemption for which you died.  Allow Your Spirit to penetrate the hard shell of my being and convince me that this is not the end, that I am not yet the one you intended me to be.”  What I wanted was a miraculous transformation of self that would have me jump down from that backyard altar and walk into the house a brand new being.  Instead, He began to open my eyes to see the planned journey to the promise that he purchased before my life began. He did not promise me a journey that would be easy or without suffering.

His instructions were clear. I was to ‘Let the past be the past’.  I was to ‘Forgive’.  I was to ‘Love without expectation’.  It seemed reasonable at the time….straight-forward. I thought, “I can do this.”  No, I couldn’t.  At least not in my own strength.  “He led me out to bring me in”.  I needed a Redeemer…One who would redeem me from my past…One Who would forgive my anger, bitterness, and hatred so I might forgive the one who betrayed me.  I needed the Lover of my soul to penetrate all of me and deliver me from the deep chasm in which I hid. I  needed to understand His love that sacrificed selflessly and without expectation so that I might be able to make room for that love to flow through me. Though it seemed forever that I was there, He did not leave me in the grave.  Through His forgiveness, by the price He paid for this sinner, I descended and ascended.  Redemption is real.

The children of Israel were enslaved in Egypt, trapped in a life that allowed no freedom. They were enslaved by a cruel taskmaster, forced into meaningless and monotonous labor.  God heard their cries and sent a deliverer.  It was not instantaneous.  In fact they had cried for years.  He could have spoken and it would have been enough to bring them out.  Instead, He showed Himself.  He stretched out His strong arm over and over again.  Yes, the goal was freedom, but also His intent was to create something new and to create a relationship with these people called His children.  That’s the part they really didn’t understand.  I wouldn’t have either.  He had waited a long time to come…so long they had nearly forgotten Him.

Over and over, this God of deliverance said, “Let my people go!”  It wasn’t that He wasn’t able to instantly deliver them from Pharaoh.  For reasons we cannot fully understand, He chose to work through a process of deliverance.  We can see the probability that He had "faith through revelation" in mind. We can speculate that He wanted His children to understand His ways, His character, His purpose. We can guess that in using the repetitious lessons of His intervention through the plagues, that the long-imprisoned minds and hearts of His people might begin to break free from their  dispirited cells.  He wanted more for them than just freedom.  He wanted them to experience life through understanding and He was willing to pay the price.  He created opportunity after opportunity for them to see Him and respond in relationship with Him.

So often I am like these imprisoned children.  The pain and suffering in the face of the imperfect is so great in this life that  I fail to see God’s presence.  At times, I am so disheartened by my own misery that I care nothing about the development of faith or relationship.  I just want to feel better.  I want to be saved for self’s sake.  But, my God does not allow me to live such a shallow life.  He has brought me out of Egypt.  He has paid the price of my ransom.  He has atoned for my sin.  I am free…but, not just for myself…not just to feel better…not just to be happy…not just to be at peace.  He brought me out to bring me in…to try me and test me and to see what is in my heart.  He wants me to understand Him and His ways.  He wants me to be one with Him.  Redemption is the only means to experience Him.  Participating in the process is the only path that leads to fellowship with the One who made us and then onward into relationships.

Each autumn, I watch the leaves fall from the trees in the backyard.  I look up at the changing colors as the cycle of life-death-life speak to me of the process of redemption.  Colors are released in varying array as death readies these trees for winter.  I know it is not the end. I know that in six months these same trees will experience the sap rising and the formation of new, yet the same leaves.  There is a time for everything under the sun. A time to live and a time to die.

Henri Nouwen says that prayer is God’s means to..

‘unite us with Jesus and lift the whole world through Him to God in a cry for forgiveness, reconciliation, healing in mercy. Prayer is leading every sorrow to the source of all healing; it is letting the warmth of Jesus’ love melt the cold anger of resentment; it is opening space where joy replaces sadness, mercy supplants bitterness, love dispels fear, gentleness and care overcome hatred and indifference. But, most of all, prayer is the way to become and remain part of Jesus’ mission to draw all people to the intimacy of God’s love.’

From—“Prayer Embraces the World”

We must allow the Spirit to speak to us. We must pray for the redemptive work of Christ on the cross to penetrate the walls of our busyness and unconscious self- righteous efforts to “do it right”.  Can we admit that in our own “freedom” we might really be imprisoned?  Underneath our deep layer of goodness, of wholesome living, of strong and sincere efforts to live well, flows the blood of Christ. We must somehow allow our experience to start there, beneath all the layers.  It is the blood of Christ that redeems and fuels the reconstruction of our lives. We must allow God, through the process, to peel back our façade and expose our true selves in all their rawness, to convince and convict us of the work of Christ.  It is in the dying off of our self-driven efforts at life that the brilliance of our lives bought by His death is revealed. Then relationship in truth and spirit becomes possible.  Then the Truth and Spirit will be present in our marriages, our friendships, our work relationships. But, this is not without a cost to ourselves.

Though the price of redemption is paid by another, to experience this we must come out of our cells when the door opens.  We must identify with the One whose keys unlocked the door.  We must walk with Him through His death/our death.  It is messy, painful, even gruesome.  We trust Him in the midst of this death because we know as He rose we too shall be raised. Redemption…the act of setting free the prisoner by another through a strong and forceful act….the Resurrection.

Why? He wants us to move out from that union He bought for us and live out His gift with one another. He gives us Himself, His love, His gifts, His work.  We are to be His body, bearing His creative and redeeming love to one another.

How do we do this?  How do we LET the Spirit of Christ dwell in us richly, bringing to us His gift of redemption?  How do we receive this gift in light of the strong truth that we are not worthy?  How do we give?  We can’t ...at least not apart from being tried and tested to make room for Him.  When the Israelites were delivered from Pharaoh and escaped through the miraculous parting of the Red Sea, they couldn’t truly understand.  God took them directly to the edge of the Promised Land.  Upon spying it out they could see how wonderful it was, but fear of loss and the death of their families, lack of understanding, and lack of faith kept them from entering in. So God turned them back and they circled for forty years.  God could have taken them in and driven out the enemies they feared, but He didn’t. He wanted more for them than just to have the Promised Land.  Instead of simply doing it all,  He went before them with a pillar of fire and the cloud of unknowing and led them through the wilderness.  He taught them, He disciplined them, He fed them, He gave them water. He formed them into a people, into a community.  As the former died, the new was born. They were meant  to dwell in the Promised Land as a people, as God’s people.

When they came around again and looked across the Jordan to the Promised Land they knew the One that led them. This time they trusted and obeyed.  They consecrated themselves and followed the ark of the Covenant into the water.  Though they likely were still afraid, they now knew the One who bought them, paid the price, and brought them out of Egypt.  Unbelief had died. Now there was meaning and purpose outside their own wants and needs.  They had been redeemed.  Their hearts and minds, their families, their community had grown in the process of being taken out to enter in.

So, how do we do it?  We cry out, “Redeem us!”  We wait for what already is ours. When the Spirit leads us into the wilderness, we look and listen and submit to what the Lord wants to teach us, to how He wants to refine us, how He wants to love us.  When we feel our hearts full of the love of Christ for another, we give it and watch for the work of creation to make something new.  When the love of Christ comes into our small places, we lay aside our pride and allow His courier to give to us.  In these ways we will know redemption…in our marriages, our friendships, in the communities in which we live. It begins with Jesus.

It will require a price.  A price Christ paid for us, yes, but also a price Christ wants us to understand and participate in.  He paid the price, set up the Kingdom, delivered us, led us out, to lead us in…to something brand new.  Redemption brings us in to a place where we can experience His life in us, in our marriages, in our friendships, in our communities. The evidence of the work of redemption becomes evident in our lives. We begin to look and behave more like Jesus.

                           We participate in His sacrifice as we give our lives to others as He did.

We grieve over the lost of “Jerusalem”.

We feel the agony of Gethsemene as we suffer through the death of our former selves.

We reach out our hands to touch the sick and injured.

We lay down our lives for our friends.

We love our neighbors as ourselves.

We respect and honor our husbands.

We love our wives as our own bodies.

We rejoice over the return of the prodigal.

We restore the one who betrayed us.

We accept.

We let the past be the past.

We forgive.

We love.

All because He paid the price for us to enter in.

I know there's a crown that is waiting
In yonder bright mansion for me;
And soon with the spirits-made-perfect,
At home with the Lord I shall be.