Tag Archives: faith

Which Will You Choose?

Posted on by
1

Trust is work. It does not come easy. Whoever tries to convince you otherwise has little faith and I believe that wholeheartedly.

To live a life of gratitude, of thankfulness and joy – those are the conduits that produce trust. But – not just any trust. A trust in a loving, sovereign God who has never failed. To say He never will fail is right and good, but we cannot put our trust in a God who never will fail unless we have first seen that He never has failed. We must utilize a trust that is deliberate and focused on this loving God that turns evil into good. A God that paints a rainbow in a dark, cloudy, drippy sky and calls it a promise. A God that painfully watches His son nailed to a cross and calls it redemption for an undeserving people.

Yet, why is our first and foremost, our fastest reaction – worry? Fear? Is it something we have learned in the classroom of Life-Lessons On Trust and yet because we somehow missed the first class, and to trust first never seemed to make sense? Why have we so easily learned the sin of stress over the treasure of trust? And someone tell me – why is it so doggone easy to fret and choose failure over faith?

I sit at the airport and watch the planes take off and land and I wonder – how many people on Flight 93 on September 11th, 2001, were fretting when Todd Beamer stated, “Let’s roll!”? They had a mission. They could have been filled with fear and yet, I honestly believe they were filled with courage in those final moments. There is no room for fear in courage and they were filled with a courage that charged against the demons of darkness that desperately tried to steal their faith and keep them huddling in their fear. Instead, they gripped that fear by the horns, cast it furlong into a field of thistles and thorns and millions called it good while at the same time mourning those who trusted in a higher and a greater cause.

Imagine a faith – a supernatural courage that can come from a life who is trusting in a superior, infinite, and sovereign God who has spent an eternity blessing His children (even though they have lived oblivious to that goodness). Imagine what can happen when they begin to catch a glimpse of the small. The once mundane that now has become magnificent. No – miraculous. Imagine when they don’t merely notice, but voice their thankfulness – their gratitude for the gifts they now receive.

It is when we begin to search for the little things that we begin to see the little things are not so very little. What once I walked past in ignorance (yes, ignorance) – the delicateness of nature, the complexities of creation, and the exquisiteness of life itself – it now shouts out in celebration of its very wonder. Why? Because I have begun to look for not just the little things in life that hold that incredible wonder, but all things. And… give thanks.

Could it be that when we look for all things in which to express gratitude that we find a plethora of ‘things’ in which to give thanks, we begin to develop a life of thanksgiving? For, it is in that very smallness that thanksgiving breeds joy and joy reels in anxiety and worry. The smallness dissipates doubt. It casts light upon the darkness and whispers ‘Live in this moment.’ It speaks, ‘Choose joy.’

Truth is the beginning of trust. They are built upon the same principal – putting faith in a loving God. A loving God who has proven He is trustworthy. He has proven it with a rainbow, a burning bush, a cross. When we can see those things – really see them – then we can and will unabashedly give thanks. And thanksgiving will produce joy.

That’s the truth. And the truth sets people free. Free to see. Free to live the way we were meant to live. Without fear. Full of joy.

- Sherri

Yours for the Taking

Posted on by
2

Did we author the universe and tell the earth to spin? Was it we who put a firey orb in the sky and decorate the blue heavens with white fluff?

And was it our idea to spot the night sky with burning stars that twinkle, or cast an evening brilliance that lights the path of the night wanderer along his journey?

We did not mold the mountains from emptiness, craft rocks and hills, crevices and moors with our bare hands nor form the waters, stand from afar upon completion, and say that it was good.

Was it our fingers that planted the first seeds of the
first flowers on those first days and made miracles sprout
from a dry earth? Reds, yellows, purples, pinks. Did we fathom the colors of the rainbow and say it was so?

When the time came to partake of the beauty that surrounded us from North to South, East to West, did we sit and thank ourselves for such bounty?

We did not breathe life into dust and watch it take form, become a living, breathing being, with eyes that could see, a heart that now beat, and a mind that could discern right from wrong.


The birds of the air – intricate, delicate creatures of the sky – the circle of life – could we do that?

We stood in a garden, stood back and with pride, called it less than sufficient as we took a bite of the forbidden fruit.

We gave tribute to chaos. We took from the tree, called ourselves wise and instead – became foolish.

We are still fumbling with our food. We are still slow to realize that in each new day – a gift – we still stare truth in the face and turn and choose the lies of the infamous enemy, the plotter of deceit, the stealer of joy, the prince of darkness. When will we see that truth is easily seen each and every day, our just for the taking.

But we make it so hard, don’t we?

Instead of giving thanks, we think of how many good things we can do to win gratitude, appreciation, approval. We think of all the reasons truth cannot be true. We find other things less worthy to invest our time and talents, our worship, our works, our praise, our attention. Lesser things. Things.

The gifts are free. They come from the hand of one who holds everything in His hand. There is no price, no hidden hoops to hop through, no secrets that haven’t been told. He waits, not with deceptive fruit, but with blessings untold. He waits with arms held open wide. He waits for you. Just you. To give all – His all – for you.

His,
Sherri

David – A Man Broken

Posted on by
2

I was thinking about King David the other day.  You know – the guy who wrote all those beautiful psalms.  The youngest chosen out of nine brothers to be the next king of Israel.[1] The fearless shepherd who fought against a giant with just a sling and five smooth stones and then stood over him – in victory.[2] The king who sinned against his God.

 

Yeah – that David.  The one who turned his eyes from God for one moment, and committed adultery the next.[3] That David.  The one who was said to be a man after God’s heart.  The one whose God said, “I took you from the pasture and from following the flock to be ruler over my people Israel.  I have been with you wherever you have gone…  Now I will make your name great, like the names of the greatest men on earth.  …I will give you rest from your enemies.”  Three chapters later, David displeases his God and becomes a man broken.

 

God is sovereign.  He is superior over all.  He knows all, He sees all, He is all.  If that is the case, then why is David raised up from a boy who shepherds flocks of wooly sheep, to become a young man who runs after the heart of His God, and then – only allowed to become a man who is broken and prostrated and weeping before His God?  If the choices that David makes – adultery, murder, lies – displease His God, what happens to the promises that God has made to this broken man?

 

As I sat and thought about David, I wondered how often I displease God.  How often have I turned my eyes away, if only for just a moment, only to find myself in the wrong place, at the wrong time?  And yet, just as God did for David, so He does for me and you – he takes away our sins.

 

I mulled over all of that and then a thought struck me.  God knew when He promised David prosperity, kingdoms on earth, and rest from his enemies that one day in the near future He would allow David to become broken.  He knew that David would one moment be running hard after the heart of God, only to take his eyes off that race and get a good look at Bathsheba, who just happened to be doing her morning bath routine – outside in the warm sunshine.  Maybe she did it to be noticed.  Maybe she knew the kings’ regimen and that he walked his rooftop each morning for his quiet time with his God.  Maybe she was testing him to see if he was half the man her husband Uriah, one of David’s most faithful and trusted servants in battle, boasted of him to be.  Maybe her thoughts were innocent and pure and she thought she was safe from the king’s roaming eyes, as his army was out in battle and he had always gone with them each time beforehand.

 

Whatever the case, God had made a promise to David that he would live victoriously, in prosperity, and in rest from his enemies throughout his life.[4] God promised this to David, knowing that three chapters later in time, the choices David made would displease Him.  God knew that there would be an afternoon coming soon, when David would choose to veer from the path that ran towards the heart of God and choose adultery for that period of time.  Because of his choice to deviate from what he knew was best and veer off course, he suffered the consequences.  His mistress for a day, Bathsheba, became pregnant. Trying to hide his sin, David schemes and tries to cover it up, ultimately ending up having his servant Uriah killed.  David also loses his newborn son, heir to his throne.

 

I guess this strikes me because so often we beat ourselves up over so many things, that we never fully experience the grace and forgiveness of the same God who loved and forgave a king who took a wrong turn.[5] A king who was after the heart of God and a God who was after the heart of mankind.  And – God kept His promises, even after all the choices David made.  David did prosper.  He did live in rest from his enemies with numerous victories.  Just as God had promised.  In spite of what David did, God took away his sin and kept His promises.

 

He will do no less for us.  He promises to supply our every need[6], according to His riches in heaven.  That sounds pretty prosperous and loving to me.  He promises that (like David experienced[7]), if we confess our sins to Him, He will forgive our sins[8] and make us clean again.

 

How amazing.  I sat there and thought about King David some more.  The King who had been badly broken and from that brokenness came some of the most poetic and beautiful psalms this world will ever know.  Psalms filled with an understanding of pain and the joy that comes after.  Psalms of worship and praise to a God who keeps His promises, no matter what we do.

 

Only a God of forgiveness and grace, such mercy and love would do that – would take one who is broken – someone like me – and make me whole again.

[1] 1 Samuel 16:1-13 ;[2] 1 Samuel 17 ;[3] 2 Samuel 11:1-27;[4] 2 Samuel 7:1-16;[5] 2 Samuel 12:13-14;[6] Philippians 4:19;[7] 2 Samuel 12:13a;[8] 1 John 1:9

 

Forever His,

Sherri

Easter Series, Part 2: Bound For My Freedom

Posted on by
2

I have always wanted to prepare for Easter by taking the month leading up to that holiday and reflect on the events that make up what we call, Easter. I began that the other day with “When Jesus Says Your Name“.  It was the story of Mary as she stands at the tomb, distraught over her Jesus being gone. basket-roses-straight-sharp

Today, I hope you enjoy the next story – that of the shepherd boy who sits by Jesus when he’s born, only to meet up with him again as he assists his cousin Joseph with Christ’s burial.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On an assumed cold, wintry night, approximately 2,000 some years ago, a little baby was born. His mother wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a feeding trough (more commonly known to all as a manger), somewhere in a little town called Bethlehem, located in what is known as the West Bank of the Middle East. A tiny, little baby in a big part of the world.

As his mother slept and his father tried to figure out what they were going to do next, the little baby cooed. All wrapped up in his swaddling cloths, he was quite content and happy enough for just being born. And besides, Asher, the shepherd boy who had listened to what the angels had told him, sat right at his side in awe of this little miracle.

Asher straightened the baby’s cloths. He had an inkling to loosen them, seeing that they bound him from moving about. How he wished he could hold him. Why did mothers wrap their babies so tight, anyhow? It was a practice he never understood. All those strips of cloth, binding his limbs still, all to ensure that this little man would grow strong and his arms and legs straight? Oh well. For now, Asher just traced the little baby’s face with his index finger, softly following the baby’s brow line and then down his baby nose, over his baby lips and then up to the other brow, repeating the process over and again until the newborn fell asleep.

Asher wondered if his mother had wrapped him in linen such as that. In that way. Was he bound tightly so that he couldn’t move? Wouldn’t move? Was he constrained from stretching his fingers up into the air? Were his feet confined from layers of cloth wrapped around his legs so that he was unable to kick freely as he had done while in his mother’s womb? How was a little baby supposed to strengthen his muscles if constricted from movement?

Swaddling clothes seemed to be a form of bondage to Asher. Bondage that kept this little baby from being welcomed freely into the world. Perhaps it was a sign. After all, his route in getting here to this stable was a bit miraculous, if he dared to use such an explanation.

The baby’s father looked tired and his eyes bloodshot as his head rested against the wall of the stable. Asher felt pity toward him.

“Sir – I can guard the little baby if you fall asleep.”

The father moved his head from the wall and turned it slightly to face Asher. A weary smile crept over the man’s face as he contemplated Asher’s offer.

“Thank you,” the deep voice sounded. “I’m not sure if I can sleep. But what about you? Is your mother worried about you? Shouldn’t you get home?”

“Oh, no. The other two boys that were with me earlier – they were my brothers and it was our turn to tend the flock tonight. She’s not expecting me home tonight and they told me it was okay to stay a while when they went back to the field. But, I – I can leave if you want me to.”

The father smiled. “No – you can stay. I think he likes you here,” he said, looking at the baby. “Maybe I will take you up on that offer. You wake me up if he wakes up.”

“Yes, sir,” Asher promptly responded and with that, the baby’s father rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes and the mother continued to sleep soundly, her head resting on the father’s lap, as the rest of her body lay on a mound of hay.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jesus knew he wouldn’t see his next birthday. Things were moving rapidly now and heating up amongst the people and officials and he knew His time to do what He was sent here to do was now at hand.

As he knelt in the garden, he continued praying as he had been doing all night, only now he was hearing voices coming from the front entrance. Within moments, on every side Roman soldiers surrounded him, death dancing in their eyes. Did they really think they needed hundreds of men to take him captive? Did they secretly believe He was who he said he was and think they couldn’t stop him unless they brought a battalion of men?

He went peacefully and some might say, He suffered peacefully. When it was over – the beatings, the mockery, the crucifixion – he died.

Joseph, a good and upright man and having been granted permission to take Jesus’ body down from the cross, began preparing Jesus’ body for burial as Asher helped. For Asher, there was something familiar about this man who had been hung on a cross to die for no apparent reason. Something Asher couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Asher knelt beside his cousin, whom he had come to visit and helped him remove the spikes that held Jesus’ hands to the timber, splintered and now coated with the stickiness of dried blood. With great gentleness and care, after each spike had been removed, they gently laid the body beside the cross on which he had breathed his last breath.

Joseph untied a cloth bag and removed strips of linen. Asher helped his cousin to wrap the dead body. Around and around the feet, methodically they wrapped the body, moving up the legs. Then, positioning the stiffened arms straight against the sides of his torso, Joseph and Asher continued wrapping, overlapping layer after layer, until they were to the neck.

“Who was this man?” Asher finally sliced through the silence, a feeling of familiarity once again surrounding him. “What was his name?”

“They called him Jesus.”

Asher stopped. “They called him what?”

“His name was Jesus. I really believe, no matter how stupid it sounds, He was the Son of God.”

Asher’s face turned white.

“Are you okay, Ash? You don’t look good.”

From swaddling cloths to grave cloths, this was no coincidence.

“Do you remember that story I told you about when you helped me tend the flocks that summer when I was twenty? The story about the angels and the baby we found at the stable when I was a little runt?”

Joseph’s face was expressionless as he stared at Asher, except for the wideness of his eyes, which were staring back at Asher. “Yes.”

“I think this is him.”

“You told me he was born in Bethlehem.”

“He was, but his parents had gone there for the census and eventually, I heard they left to go back where they came from. His father told me what I told you that night we were talking – he was no ordinary baby and the angels that told us to go into town and we’d find a baby in a manger – this was him. I know it.”

Joseph looked at the baby, wrapped in linen except for the blood stained face and matted hair. A tear dropped from his eye and landed silently on a piece of cloth that he held in his hand.

“I remember watching him that night in the stable and for some reason, wishing I could have removed the swaddling clothes and let him be free to move around. And now, here I am wrapping him up, making him bound once again.”

“You’re not going to bind him. He said after three days he would rise again. Even the Pharisees are afraid. You can bet they’re going to station guards at the tomb. Nothing’s going to hold him back, Asher. Nothing. And that – I know.”

Asher sat and listened to his cousin, who was so confident that this man they tended to was the Messiah. Did he realize what he was saying? And yet, didn’t Asher himself believe that the little baby some thirty years ago, who he watched try to wiggle his way from being bound with the linens of long ago – didn’t he believe that little baby would change the world – just as the angels had said?

With sorrow, now mixed with anticipation, they finished what they had come here for. They wrapped Jesus’ face and then carried him to the tomb. There was nothing more they could do. They laid him down on the stone and with the help of the soldiers already waiting at the tomb, rolled a large stone in front of the entrance as two women watched from afar.

As they walked toward Joseph’s home, Asher asked, “Tell me again what he said about coming back to life after three days.”

And so it was – the third day. Asher was heading back to Bethlehem and decided to take the path that passed Joseph’s tomb. A nagging curiosity had been his companion the last two days. He stopped, seeing commotion ahead.

Sliding off his donkey, he tied it to a nearby olive tree. He walked closer, seeing the two women who had been watching from afar as he and Joseph rolled the stone across the front of the tomb just days before.

Three men were talking to them and suddenly they gasped, ran into the open tomb; back out again, and down the road – right past Asher. As they passed, one of them turned to him, exclaiming, “He’s alive!”

His eyes followed her as she ran by, yet she never stopped and kept running.

He turned back toward the tomb. The men were gone. They hadn’t passed him. They weren’t walking away from him down the road in the other direction. They were just – gone. He looked all around – no one. Slowly, he walked toward the place where the men had stood while they were speaking to the three women. He could see the tomb.

It had taken six men to roll that stone in front of the tomb. The women couldn’t have moved it, even if the three men had helped. He and Joseph could barely do it with the assistance of the four hefty built Roman guards.

Asher stood at the entrance, took a deep breath and then stepped inside. It was dark, but bright enough with the light from outside streaming in behind him, was able to see what he needed to see. They body was gone. And, at that moment he was certain.

The body hadn’t ‘disappeared’. No one had taken it. He knew how he and Joseph had wrapped that body. Carefully – oh so carefully. And there, on the stone where they had laid the body, lay the grave cloths. Neatly folded, in a pile, on the stone.

Asher was shivering, every inch of his body tingling with excitement. He picked up the top cloth and a strange peace coated every inch of his being as he held the cloth to his face, lightly passing it across his cheek.

The little baby he had fallen in love with. The baby he wanted to set free. And though for burial Joseph and he had bound him as a man, Asher knew in his heart that this man they called Jesus and had hung on a cross – truly he was the Messiah. He saw him wrapped in swaddling clothes as a baby and bound him in grave cloths in death. But he knew – the next time he saw him – it would be with outstretched arms, as Asher’s Savior and Lord.

Just as the angels had said.

Thirsting After God

Posted on by
Reply

When my son and daughter in-law got a new puppy, WE got a new puppy. After all, they were living with us at the time, so that means that we had a new puppy. They named her Olive. It only took me three weeks to figure out why they chose that name.

Olive is part lab and part Irish setter. She is pure black and had the biggest, cutest ears you’d ever seen. Olive had her own kennel, which she went into quite compliantly. But, when I would start up the stairs and she heard my footsteps, she would know that it was time to for her to go outside. After many whimpers and wails, she was on her leash and headed out the door. Unless there was a puddle from a recent rain, she would head straight for the hose, where she had learned that I would turn it on for her and so she could enjoy the freshest of water. Yes, she was spoiled.

And so, she would drink.

And drink.

And drink.

I would watch her guzzle that water as if she was coming in from the hot, dry desert heat and the cold water was her oasis.


I am reminded of the verse, “As the deer pants for water, so my soul thirsts for You.” Every time, no matter how long or short the intervals in between, Olive does not take her time and walk, but rather, runs to the hose, thirsty for a drink.  She has learned, from several previous trips that the fresh water will satisfy and fill.

I am reminded of the verse, “…so my soul thirsts for You.”  I ask myself…

‘Do I thirst for God the way Olive thirsts for a drink of water?”

“Do I run to God, looking forward to being filled up and satisfied by Him, or do I merely meander towards Him, allowing almost any and every distraction that fights for my attention to draw me away to another source that doesn’t fulfill?’“

There have been times in my life that I have longed for the Lord, knowing that nothing else could fill me up. Then, regretfully, there have also been the times when I have found myself down unfamiliar paths, where I have wandered aimlessly until I found myself lost and alone, crying out for direction and thankfully finding an oasis of grace.

And grace always comes, like a refreshing rain pouring down over a dry earth. I stand out in the pouring rain, and soak it up like the ground soaks up the water from the heavens. As I watch new growth come forth after it has dampened the earth, I realize that I am watching a picture of what is happening deep inside of me when I thirst and am filled by God. New growth begins to appear and I feel alive. I am not lost down paths that seem to wind towards frightening destinations, but I am given directions for familiar and unfamiliar roads, knowing that I will have a constant Companion who will walk beside me and Who also knows all the places where His water can be found when I am dry and parched.

I want to thirst for God the way Olive thirsts for her water. I want to run to Him and know that He alone satisfies, just the way Olive runs for the hose and knows from experience that her thirst will be quenched. I want to drink from His well of grace and love and mercy and long for nothing more than Him. Only Him, just as Olive longs for nothing more than that water and doesn’t walk to get there, but runs.

Being Justified

Posted on by
Reply

Walking into the house the other day, there laid a pair of pants at the front door. I picked them up. Did I have a cheerful attitude? I hardly think so.

“I get so tired of picking up after everybody”, I mumbled within hearing distance of one who was in the next room. I should add this was not the owner of the dirty pants.

“I don’t like when you say that. You lump me in with everyone else and I don’t do that.”

I was instantly convicted. For leaving my stuff around. For having piles of this stuff or that stuff.  Stuff  I needed to deal with, all scattered around the house – here, there, and everywhere. The difference was (I justified), I don’t expect someone else to come behind me and clean up my mess.

And almost as soon as that thought entered my mind, another thought came as quickly… One day Someone did come behind me and clean up my mess. Ouch.

I went to a seminar a few years back where the term ‘justification’ was explained.  Two people stood at the front by the speaker, who is holding three different colored robes – one red, one white, and one black.

One team member stands as sinful man. The other stands as God. (That would be me, there on the left, as sinful man.) The speaker explains that man began on earth with a relationship with God – as God’s friend.  However, because of sin, man became separated from God. That’s when the black robe of sin is placed on the sinful man (one of the two volunteers). Meanwhile, God (the other volunteer) is wearing white, representing holiness/righteousness.

The speaker then explained that Jesus came to earth as man and yet He was still God and he took on the robe of red, representing death through the shedding of blood. We are taught in the Old Testament that without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins.  This was to be the final sacrifice – the sacrifice of God’s own son upon the cross.

So there they stand, the two volunteers.  One as a sinful man in his black robe, covered with sin, and the other as Jesus Christ in his red robe, having shed his blood for the sin of man.

We are told that Christ is crucified and buried and rose on the 3rd day, just as He said would, but before He takes His rightful place in heaven, He puts His robe on man. The robe of red. The robe that represents the shedding of blood for our sins. Now when God looks at man, He doesn’t see his sin because we no longer wear the black robe. We are miraculously clothed in WHITE– for we have been made clean – holy and righteous – through the blood of His son. Now He sees His son’s robe of righteousness – not the black of sin, but the white of purity because of the red of the blood.

That, the speaker explains, is being justified. That, I now saw, was Christ coming behind me and cleaning up my mess.

I sat in front of the window of my living room, humbled by that thought. I asked for forgiveness, then got up and picked up the pants that still lay on the floor. I’d like to say I did it with a cheerful attitude. Let’s just say, I did it and I’m working on the cheerful part.

Just Trust Me

Posted on by
2

I used to think I knew what faith was. I know three women named Faith and one is a portrait of a very godly lady, but somehow when it comes to trusting what God can do, knowing people named Faith doesn’t tip the scales to your favor in the so-called faith department of belief.

Several years ago, when faced with a major decision, I stayed up all night searching verses on three closely related words: faith, trust, and belief. Several hours upon finishing my search, I felt as if my God could move mountains beyond my imagination and I was certain I knew what it felt to have “faith as a mustard seed”. That day, I had a faith such as I had never known before in my life. In fact, I had so much faith that I am sure if I had told the mountains to move that can I see from my window, they would have obeyed without the slightest hesitation.

So, what happened? Isn’t our faith supposed to grow and not diminish, like mine seemed to be doing lately? As I sat in my favorite chair during my quiet time, my mind was anything but peaceful, quiet, or serene. I was busy praying for God to provide for the smallest of needs and as fast as I could utter my request, I found my mind denouncing that He was even going to answer me.

‘My prayers are already defeated,’ I thought. I was sure the answer had already been given. In the lesson of faith, I had failed and my grade would be a big, red NO. You don’t believe, you don’t get.

When my children were smaller and were in want or need of something (which can be relative), they would sometimes assume that I was going to say no before they would even ask.  That would sometimes put me on the defensive and I would want to say ‘no’ just because they seemed to not have the faith to believe that perhaps the answer would be ‘yes’.

Sometimes I am like my children.  Before I even really ask God about a need, I tell myself He’s not going to do it merely because I’ve already convinced myself that it’s really not that important to be bothering the God of the universe over.

My husband lost his job a year and a half ago and since that time, I have felt as if I have been traveling around the countryside in a Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang type of automobile with God at the wheel. There have been days when we have been going around and around the mountains, trying to reach the top. Some days it has seemed that we will never arrive and the anticipation is overwhelming. Some days I feel peaceful and fall asleep, entrusting my Driver to get me to my destination safely. And then there were days when it is the same old trees and rocks along the road as we go around and around. Often we seem to make no progress at all on the steep but steady incline. It is like covering the same old lessons over and over and over again.

But then there are days when we do reach the mountain tops and we sit there together, just my God and me. We bask in the sun, enjoy the view from where we have come together, take pleasure in each other’s company and rejoice that we are finally at the top! Actually, I am jumping with joy to be there and He is amused at my craziness. To think I had doubts we’d ever make it to this beautiful place!

I sometimes believe that He is amused at our surprise when He comes through for us. Throughout history, He’s held the map of our lives, knowing what to expect and yet, we still fall into that old trap He warned us about – we borrowed trouble from our tomorrows and worry over that which we have no control over.

For now, He sits at the wheel, there is no condemnation while we enjoy the view, and I am happy as a clam.  Sometimes I wonder if He wants to say “I told you so”,  but I am certain that He is too kind to ever voice those words.

Eventually He bids me to get back in that old car and we begin another trek on this journey called life. We travel on top of the ridge for a while and enjoy a peaceful sunset filled with colors unimaginable and eventually the path takes a turn and begins to descend toward a valley that waits below. I have to admit, I don’t care much for these parts of my journey, because every once in a while I have this thought that the brakes are going to go out, my hat’s going to fly off or worse yet, He’s going to fall asleep at the wheel and then what will I do?

Honestly, there have been days that my hat has flown off with the wind as my Driver allows the car to coast as fast as He desires.  In the meantime, my faith flies right off with my hat, leaving my hope behind along with it. There have been times when I look over and want to ask, “What are you doing?  I don’t like this!” I want to remind Him that I get car sick and slowing this adventure down to a steady crawl would be much nicer for my queasy stomach.  I’d also be able to adjust to this adventure much more easily. I want to tell Him that I really don’t think I am up for this trip and can’t we just go back to the top and stay a while longer?  I want to ask, “Don’t you know I can’t handle life at this pace, especially with all of the bumps we’ve hit?”

You know what He says? He winks, takes my hand in His and says, “Trust me. “

“Trust me.” Doesn’t He know how hard that is?  Doesn’t He know it’s an easy request to voice, harder to submit to?

I was thinking about a friend of mine who has been trying to adopt a little girl for over two years now. I met with her the other day and she shared her discouragement over how it seems that perhaps this is not what God desires for her and her husband. She shared that she too felt like she had a lot of faith at one time and nowadays says she has no faith at all. I think she is also riding in the valley in that silly little car.

Just when I think I can’t go any further and things can’t get any worse, just then it will start to rain.  Just when I think I am turning at all the right places, making all the right choices, trusting the best that I know how, the valley seems to get darker and deeper. I look over to the driver’s side and I can’t even see the face of God. I can’t even hear Him whisper “Trust me”, because the rain pelts my head as if it were hail. But, I am trusting. I am choosing to trust. I am trusting that He is there.  Trusting that the car keeps moving ahead and the headlights keep me focused on what’s ahead of me and not what is behind or who is ready to jump out from the bushes. I am choosing to trust because I do have faith – even when it doesn‘t feel like it. I am choosing to trust because I know who my Driver is, and while my faith may not be as small as a mustard seed, it’s big enough to know that because He has been faithful in the past, He will be faithful now and forevermore.

Our faith is tested in the valleys of our lives and we learn to grow deeper in Him – if we choose to trust in the darkness and through the storms. He knows where we’re headed, how we’re going to get there, where the rest stops are, when we’ll reach our destination.  All we have to do?  Just trust Him.  That’s all.

And the Light Shines In the Darkness

Posted on by
2

In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being by Him and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being. In Him was life and the life was the light of men. And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. John 1:1-5

One of my favorite songs includes a line about God that says, “There is no shadow in Your presence.”

Have you ever stopped to really think about God’s glory in such a way that – literally, because of His glory, there is no shadow in His presence?

I have never really been anywhere (that I can recall), where there was not some sort of shadow seen somewhere near me, of some certain thing. All light that I know of is transfixed. It is in permanent, limited position. God’s glory is so powerful, so full of splendor, so incomprehensible, so full of light that there is no darkness – not even a hint of a shadow.

The sun is always shining above the clouds, but since you can’t see that fact, you forget that fact.

Clouds are often representative of dark days in our spiritual lives. If you look in God’s word, God is often found in the clouds.

In Exodus 6:21 it says, “And the Lord was going before them in a pillar of cloud by day to lead them on the way.”

In chapter 20 of Exodus it states that “…Moses approached the thick cloud where God was” and in chapter 24, “Moses went up to the mountain and the cloud covered the mountain.”

In the ninth chapter in the book of Mark it says in verse 7, “Then a cloud formed overshadowing them, and a voice came out of the cloud, “This is my beloved Son – listen to Him.”

There is a song that talks about God coming in the clouds. It talks about how we can feel so confident on the sunny days but when the storms begin to rise, we find our faith turning to fear. It is at those times that we need to remember, “Sometimes He comes in the clouds… sometimes the skies are dark and gray… sometimes His face cannot be found… sometimes He comes in the clouds.” (Steven Curtis Chapman)

The point is this: The light shines in the darkness, simply because, if He is omniscient, everywhere at once, then He is in the darkness. Sometimes we find that our faith turns to fear, but He is faithful and He goes before us in those clouds to lead us, no matter how dark and gloomy it may seem around us.

Remember in Exodus 20 that God was in the thick cloud? According to 2 Chronicles 6:1, that is exactly where the Israelites also found Him. He was there with them, constantly, faithfully. But, what they could not see, what they refused to believe, was that God was in the darkness – He was in the cloud. And what they did not know was that above that cloud, the sun was shining. God’s glory could have pierced through at any second but they would not have been ready for it. For, they could only see and feel the darkness and could not see His glory where not even a shadow exists.

“The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.”

What hope the God of all creation has given to us. Light in the darkness. A light so powerful that darkness did not, cannot, and will not overcome it. In Him was life and the life was the light of men. Jesus is the life and He is the light. The glory. The splendor. The light in our darkness.

To those who are consumed by the darkness in their life – whatever it may be –may you find hope in the clouds above.

Fearing Facing God

Posted on by
Reply

Why do you fear Me?  I heard a soft voice speak to my spirit.

It’s not easy for me to confront anyone about anything.  For me, it is often an impossible task and I can talk myself out of it pretty quick.  But, when a relationship is important and valuable, the need to confront someone could occur.  For no matter what that relationship is – friendship, marriage, child to parent/parent to child, employee to employer, etc. – there will be struggles, misunderstandings and disagreements.  It is these things that can grow a deep bond between two individuals, at any level, or if left unattended, dig a deep chasm.  This is also true with God.

There have been times when I have not agreed with the decisions that God has made for me.  He says “Wait” and I ask, “Why?”  Why is not a forbidden question, but the motive in which we ask can definitely expose the condition of our hearts.  Sometimes we want things done differently.  We want salvation to come to our loved ones NOW.  God says “Wait”.  “For what?!” we ask.  I have learned that waiting is better than getting things done according to my time frame.  Sometimes I have wanted something so badly that I have convinced myself that God must be agreeing with me only to find out that I was wrong.

Confronting God seems like an oxymoron itself and yet, there are examples of it occurring within the pages of the Bible.  Christ Himself confronted God by saying, “…if it is possible let this cup pass from Me…”   I think the problem I have with confronting someone is not the action itself, but the misunderstanding of what it means.

Confronting someone is to face up to them, meet with them, deal with them or the situation.  It does not carry with it a negative connotation unless it becomes a confrontation, at which point meeting with the person has may have become an ugly situation.

A few years back, a friend confronted me with her concerns about our friendship.  It did not turn into a confrontation.  Jesus confronted His father.  He desired one thing and presented it to Him.  But it must be noted that He did it with reverence and respect and a willingness to do what was best, even if that meant it wasn’t what He’d choose foremost.

“My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as Thou wilt.”

Respect.  He recognized that His father’s will was best, that His father knew best and so yes, He expressed His desire but added, “…if it’s possible…”  He confronted God with the desire of His heart.  Ultimately, however, His greatest desire was to do the will of His father, even if it cost Him his life.

It is interesting to think about the word ‘confront’.  If you were to take the first part of the word ‘con’, in Spanish it means ‘with’.  Put it with ‘front’, it means ‘with front’ or, in my mind, to stand before.  (And granted, my mind works a lot differently than most.)

So, if confronting God is merely meeting with Him, face to face, dealing with what He has asked or allowed, than why would I fear Him?  Perhaps the fear comes from a heart that does not have pure motives.  Perhaps the reasons I come to Him with certain requests are selfish.  Perhaps I need to examine the reasons behind my requests.

Sometimes I think we get confused as to whether what we ask for is God’s will or just our fleshly desires.  I once heard a pastor on a radio station speak on praying God’s will.  He said that if we are asking from a pure heart, with unselfish motives and can see no reason why what we ask for would not further the kingdom in some way, than we should ask with a heart of expectancy and trust.  This does not mean God will ultimately answer according to our desire but we are praying for the will of God to the best of our ability.

Does God desire to see us healed?  Is that too little to meet with Him face to face about?  I often think it is easier to ask for others what we won’t ask for ourselves.  I believe God’s heart has been broken more often than we could ever imagine ours have been or will be.  He shares our sorrows.  He understands them.  So when we come to Him with a broken heart, with discouragement and disappointment ravaging our innermost beings, our dreams having been shattered and we are ready to give up, He understands.  We can come to Him, face to face and when we cry and weep – when we pound our fists and want to scream – He pulls us closer, holds us tighter and says, “I was waiting for you.”

Fear is healthy when it is within the right context.  God himself teaches us to fear Him.  This is because of who He is – holy.  This is because of what He can do – anything He desires.  We are to fear Him with a holy fear, not be afraid of him like a whipped puppy.  He is powerful. He is mighty.  He is just.  And, He is loving and merciful.  One thing He is not – mean.

Why do you fear me?, He asked.

I went home and in the quietness of my living room, asked His forgiveness.  There is no reason to be afraid to confront our heavenly Father.  He loves us more than we’ll ever be able to comprehend and if our motives are pure, if our requests are asked according to His will, then we should be able to ask anything, knowing that He is listening and is ready to meet with us face to face, with open arms, without fear.  He’s waiting. Are you ready?

Writing for Him,

Sherri

Comments:

Elisha Henry Millan That was very good. I’m going to share on my page. The part about praying for healing really struck me. I never pray for my own healing, as I know there is no cure, but I often pray for the speedy recovery and pray for the comfort of others, even if their ailment is not curable. I need to think on this.

Bring It On

Posted on by
Reply

Isn’t the Christian walk supposed to be easier than ‘this’?  What is ‘this’, anyhow? Your life, a part of your life, a specific circumstance?  After all, if you are doing what God has called you to do, if you are making decisions after seeking His heart and His wisdom, shouldn’t everything fall into place and go smoothly?

I guess you can never be a Christian too long to fall into a trap of  lies that say that life for a Christian should be easier. And a lie is exactly what crossed my mind.
I just got off the phone with a friend, who reiterated the same words that life should be easier but insteand, it is a battle. A battle for life. A battle between forces we often forget exist because we easily become distracted with the very things over which God has already given us victory. Yet, we wake up, scrub our faces, don our Christian attitudes and go forth into believing the lie that life will be easier for us since we are Christians.  That things should go our way since God is on our side.  By the end of the day, we are falling on our faces and wonder, as we lay in the muck of life, why life is so hard.
When we are seeking His face, we cannot help but see that He is still in control. Our God, who created the heavens and the earth, led the people of Israel over a parted Red Sea, who took back Jericho, who raised a dead man from the grave, who extends a loving hand to sinners… He is still in control! When planes crash into buildings, when millions of people have lost their jobs, loved ones are suddenly and confusingly taken from us, when illnesses with no cure claims our body, and disaster strikes across the face of the earth and leave no one untouched in some way -He is still in control!
When things go wrong in our lives, we may be experiencing unseen battles firsthand and must remembered that our enemy has been defeated. A pastor once said, “His goal is to destroy your life on earth and to discredit the cause of Christ through you. . . . Be alert—be aware. Satan plays for keeps. He wants to mess with your mind. He wants you to start thinking wrongly about God, wrongly about yourself, and wrongly about others. If he can do that, he knows you’ll make destructive choices for yourself and for those you love.”
We need to discover the enemies tactics and where we are vulnerable. To be alert and to be aware. We need to remember that in Christ’s power, we are invincible. How? We must not neglect (as we can so often do!) to put on His armor. Put on the belt of truth.  Stand firm in what you KNOW to be true, not in how you feel. Put on His breastplate of righteousness—oh to know you are His! What greater joy than to know you have been cleansed from sin and are the apple of His eye! That He now sees you through Jesus Christ His son—beautiful, clean and pure. We must live accordingly.
Now, put on the helmet of salvation and remember that you are saved and sealed! Put your feet in the boots of peace and BE STILL AND KNOW THAT HE IS GOD! Go – take the peace of God with you, entering into every situation with the knowledge and trust that He is in control. Tighten those laces and carry His good news to those who are struggling alongside of you. With all of that, take up your shield. A shield of faith that deflects what is intended to destroy. Remember that when all around you seems confusing and when nothing makes sense, God will use it for your good. Have faith and trust Him to do just that.
Now, with all your armor cinched tightly and in place, pick up your sword. How often we prepare for battle and then forget the one weapon that is our strongest defense: the Word of God. Hide it in your heart. Make it the light for your path. When the battle rages, trust His truth. It is His truth and in His truth alone what will set you free.  Pray. Pray without ceasing. God says that the prayers of his people are like sweet smelling incense to Him. Oh what a joy to smell sweet to the Lord because of prayer. And, what power when we release to Him what binds us from being free.
When I first heard a song called “Bring It On” by Steven Curtis Chapman, I immediately liked the name even before opening the CD. The song talks about how we ‘have an enemy who is waiting to bring us pain, but he seems to forget that what he means for evil, God works for good’.
I what to encourage you as God has encouraged me this last week: let us not retreat or surrender, for that is exactly what the enemy is hoping for: to bring us down and leave us feeling defeated. Instead, let us say with confidence, “Bring it on! Let the lightning flash, let the thunder roll, let the storm winds blow, let the trouble come, let the hard rain fall, let it make me strong . . . Bring it on!” – (by Steven Curtis Chapman)

Comments:

Jeanette Alayne Hoffman: Totally true and well said Sherri. I thought that when I first became a Christian at age 40. I’ve learned the truth since then and still wouldn’t go back for anything.

February 18, 2011 at 8:33am