listening well

With the new year coming tomorrow, I found myself perusing my blog a bit in contemplation, looking back over the path I've trodden.

My word for the year has been Abide.  It was the perfect word for this year.  With Covid quarantining and sheltering at home, a focus on abiding brought peace and comfort.  Even the concept of sheltering at home becomes different and beautiful when I realize that Christ is my home, and I take shelter in Him (Psalm 57:1).

Today, meandering through past posts, I came across this one, which is about abiding, but I never would have remembered by the title.  It is astonishing to me that way back in 2015, God was already teaching me about sanctification through His indwelling Holy Spirit, being transformed into His likeness from one degree of glory to another by Him, His power, His presence.  It is always astonishing to me when I see a record of what I was learning years before I learned it again on a deeper level.  His grace is astounding.  He truly has been my dwelling place throughout all the decades of my life, when I have been aware of Him and, even more unfathomably, when I have not.

I do not think I can give up the word Abide in 2021.  I still need it desperately.  Yet, I feel led to connect my abiding with listening.  

Listen.  It seems a good word, important, and with potential to instigate growth in humility.  The past couple of days, I've been looking for my new verse-of-the-year to go with Listen.  Presently, I'm considering Mark 9:7, or a repeat of James 1:19.

I've been thinking about listening, what it is and what it does:

Listening is being still, and opening yourself to someone else.

When you truly listen, you stop thinking your own thoughts, and absorb the thoughts of others.

You allow yourself to consider their perspective, 

or perhaps you push yourself to do this, force yourself.

Good listening is hard work, until someone has practiced for a long time.

You do not have to agree with the people you listen to, 

condone their opinions, or celebrate their choices,

but you do have to hear, consider, imagine what it is like to be them.

If you think you are listening, but you are not trying to understand,

then you are only hearing sounds.

Listening well is listening for the heart, 

being eager to discover what the other person wants me to understand.

A good listener uses both ears 

and both eyes, 

as well as heart and gut.

It is scary for me to look deep into people's eyes, but I will need to 

as I strive to listen better.

I can also watch people's bodies, 

the tilt of a shoulder towards or away, the angle of a head up or down, a jawline loose or clamped.

Are hands open, active, reaching out?  Tightly clasped or wringing?  

Arms circled protectively around a threatened body?

What is behind the loudness or softness of a voice?

A good listener looks behind everything, gently, kindly probing to bring out the truth.

A good listener asks questions to clarify what she thinks she understands, 

and she is willing to change her understanding as information unfolds.

A good listener never reverts to pinning a speaker to the wall because of specific words he spoke,

placing the importance of a moment's phrase above the intent of the heart.  Never.

A good listener believes that winning is understanding and mutual benefit;

the other kind of "winning", where someone beats someone else, where there is a loser...

in relationships, that is not winning at all.

A good listener works hard to draw out;

when a speaker is reticent, frightened, overwhelmed,

a good listener asks pump-priming questions,

and keeps going.  A good listener does not quickly give up on a conversation

or pridefully assume that she tried and gave her all, but the other person was not cooperative,

especially if the other person is simply quiet and slow to speak.

A good listener prays for the Spirit of God to help her as she listens, 

to help her not be afraid to let go of forming a rebuttal,

to help her hear, empathize, enter in to the other's experience,

consider the validity of the other point of view.

A good listener knows that she is as fallen and fallible as anyone,

so when she sometimes hears things that she knows are a result

of someone being deceived by the spiritual forces of evil,

she responds by remembering her own failings,

and how utterly hopeless and lost she would be without the grace of God.

When one becomes a truly great listener,

compassion will always trump anger, 

and each exchange will communicate hope.

Relationships will heal over time, with good listening.

Listening to God is the best listening of all,

and a healthy relationship with Him

will breathe grace into all other relationships.

Are you as astonished as I, to think about how 

God listens attentively to our prayers?

no fear in love

 The other day I was walking with my husband, in our neighborhood.

It's one mile if you walk up and down all three streets in this neighborhood and loop their cu-de-sacs at each end.  One mile.  The Pandemic Promenade.  We meet up with various neighbors who also do this circuit, and pass others who hang out in their yards.  Everyone stands at a respectful distance and asks, "How are you doing?"  We look after one another's mental health a little bit, if we happen to see each other outside.  Everyone seems to know our little dog.  It's a bubble of life where most people work at home, nobody has lost a job, and nearly all of us are doing fine, so far.  We keep six or more feet apart when we chat in the street, but we don't wear masks.  The children play together as if everything were normal, filling the woods with nerf ammunition, splashing in pools and (more recently) jumping on trampolines.

Some kids miss school, while others are happy to be home.

Some of the adults are more affected than others by current events.  A few live in abject fear.

The other day as I was walking, I thought how bleak it must be not to believe in God.  I imagined how I might feel, if I thought we were here by random chance, eons of evolutionary sifting that finally, after a near infinity of time, resulted in a world full of oceans, sea creatures, plains, prairies, mountains, trees, rivers, birds, deer, squirrels, mice, mosquitoes, cats, dogs, alligators, hippopotami and humans.

The Universe is so huge, so unfathomably huge.  I do not think we can really grasp the size of it, even when the math is laid out before us.  The math we have is only approximate anyway, because nobody really knows where it all begins and ends, what its limits are.

In all the immeasurable Universe, nobody has come close to toting up how many galaxies there are, and then multiplying by some average number of solar systems per galaxy to calculate the number of solar systems.  We have figured out that our own galaxy is not one of the biggest ones, and within our galaxy, that our solar system is not one of the biggest, either.  We are average-to-small among galaxies and solar systems.  As far as planets go, Earth is also average-to-small.

Yet, as far as anyone has been able to determine, there is no other planet that is covered with water and life the way Earth is.  Of course, I eagerly admit that the Universe stretches to relatively infinite expanses beyond what we can know or see.  Still, with all the scientific progress we have been able to make (and I think it is commendable, what we have attained), we have not found any other planet out there that is anything at all like our home.  Now and then we hear a vague report about a few cells somewhere that might loosely resemble something that could take the form of water, or a very simple life form.  But it's nothing like our dear Earth.  Nothing at all.

Besides which, you have to consider the timing.  Time is such a curious thing, isn't it?  Time tells us that there are beginnings and ends, life cycles that start and finish.  We watch the night sky at the beach, tracking meteor showers and falling stars.  Falling stars are meteors that burn up as they cascade through space, but supernovas are actual stars that come to the end of their lives and explode.  Stars have a lifecycle; even stars are subject to time and do not last forever.  Our sun is not going to last forever.  I think it is probable that even if there were some particles of pre-life on one of the other planets in our solar system, our sun will not last long enough for them to develop into anything.  The timing of earth's ecosystems is perfectly coordinated with our sun.  You could have a long argument about how and why this is, whether the proverbial chicken or egg came first, but I think you would never arrive at a confirmable solution.

If I thought all this huge expanse around us was merely a random result of randomly existing substances that randomly interacted over trillions and trillions of centuries, I would live in constant, overwhelming fear.  What an overwhelmingly cold, heartless, impersonal existence, and the vast bulk of it totally outside our control or understanding: Our sun is going to change over its lifecycle, and this will certainly change our climate, and ultimately everything will go up in spectacular flames.  Meanwhile there is nothing we can do about it, nowhere to go.  Indeed, I think the only possible rational response to such beliefs must be deep depression.  Alternatively, one can take the ostrich approach and refuse to consider the implications, pursuing hedonism, I suppose, because on the edge of such nameless, faceless darkness, why should silly things like honesty or unselfishness or sacrifice matter or make any difference whatsoever?  And even if they do matter to you, how--on what basis--could you ever convince others to agree?

The other day as I walked with my husband, I looked at the trees lining our road, tall, majestic pines stretching into the blue sky, hardwoods now bare, but glorious in their foliage spring through fall.  I saw small white clouds floating softly overhead in the blue expanse.  Holly bushes lined the edge of the street, covered with copious clusters of brilliant red berries, so many berries.

God doesn't always make sense to me.  I fully admit that I do not always enjoy the way He carries out His plans.  But as I breathe in the air He created specifically for me and my species to breathe, when I drink a glass of the water He poured onto this world to bring forth life (Job 36:26-31), I am so thankful that He is God.  He has a plan.  He is in control.  I don't have to try to figure out and harness the powers of the Universe, or be overwhelmed by the impossibility of doing so.  It is good to learn, to discover, to explore.  But at the end of each day, I can lie back and rest in the knowledge that there exists a good God who loves us, who created us, and who has plans to deliver us into a new, improved, unblemished Universe some day, in His perfect time.  And that Universe will, I think, be somehow unchained from time.   I do not understand how this will work, but I believe with all my heart that there will be no more endings, no more loss or separation, no more death.  It will be okay.

I am thankful that God tells us to look not to the things that are seen, but to the things that are unseen.  For the things that are seen are transient (even the stars and the galaxies), but the things that are unseen are eternal (2 Corinthians 4:18).

So, when there is a pandemic, or a war, or an economic collapse, or any other unpleasant thing that comes to pass on this poor old broken world, I do not need to be afraid.  God is eternal, beautiful and perfect, and His eternal, beautiful, perfect Spirit lives inside of me, giving life to my spirit, keeping me until the day when I can be with Him face-to-face.

The Lord bless you and keep you

The Lord make His face shine on you 

And be gracious to you 

And give you peace

Forever.

Numbers 6:24-26

Linda the bird

I have hesitated to write this, because in a sense it is not my story to tell.  And yet, it absolutely is.  And yet, it is some other people's story as well, and I need to guard their privacy.  This story is spectacular, and shows the amazing power and goodness of God, who is worthy of all praise.  Therefore, I am going to tell it, but I am withholding certain information and perhaps changing other details, just to be responsible, to be circumspect.

There is a young couple I know and love deeply.  They live far from me.  They are smart, funny, interesting people.  They met in a pet store, which is a detail as quirky and romantic and charming as the two of them.  They moved in together with a dog and a bird, a little family of sorts, unofficial but sincere.  Of course, I would rather they were married, but God is in control.   God knows the things He has planned.  God knows what He is doing.

They do not identify with God.  This is a great sadness to my heart, because I believe that God is the greatest good anyone can ever attain, the Treasure beyond all treasures, the Source of all life, beauty and wisdom.  Since I love them dearly, I long for them to know my Lord and be enfolded into the wonders of His glorious kingdom.  I long for them to walk in His righteousness and love, blessed and covered with the grace that comes through Christ.  I long for them to be saved, indwelt by the precious Holy Spirit, and set apart for eternity in heaven.  They are not open to this.  

Not yet.

The young woman--I'll call her Rachel--had a bird named Linda whom she had owned for many years.  Rachel and Linda were very close.  Linda loved to sit on Rachel's shoulder and follow her around the home.  Rachel loved to awaken in the morning to the sweet sounds of Linda singing.  The young man--I'll call him Nathan--was gaining Linda's confidence, and she was beginning to perch on him, too.  In their happy household, Linda was able to frolic free from her cage most of the time.  

One Sunday in spring, during the height of COVID, Nathan and Rachel ordered a food delivery.  When the delivery guy arrived and they opened the door to grab the sack of food, Linda surprised everyone by swooping out.  Rachel ran after her and followed as far as she could, down blocks and around corners, calling out desperately.  Despite her best efforts, she lost track of her sweet bird, and had to return home empty handed.  She publicized notices that Linda had flown away, on social media and through lost pets organizations, but there was very little she could do.

I saw the notice on social media, and knowing how much Rachel loved that little bird, I contacted her to ask if I could pray.  I prayed as hard as I knew how, longing for Jesus to intervene and display His love and care, but day after day, no word came.  Nathan, feeling terrible for Rachel, purchased her a new bird, a beautiful sky blue bird.  Beauty notwithstanding, it wasn't Linda.

The following Wednesday, I was praying with some friends.  At the end of the the prayer meeting, sheepishly, I mentioned that this bird had gone missing and asked if they would pray with me.  I figured it was far too long--over three days--for the bird to have survived in the wild, but it was on my heart, and I brought it up.

As soon as the prayer meeting was over, I noticed that a message had come in on my phone.  It was Rachel, letting me know that Linda had been found.  I read it once, twice, and then over and over.  "Can this be?" I asked Shawn, holding out my phone. "Rachel says Linda has been found."

Linda had flown 35 miles over the course of three days.  On Wednesday afternoon, she arrived in a neighborhood where a man was out working in his yard.  He had parked his truck in his driveway, and Linda flew into one of the open workboxes on the back of it.  Any ordinary man might have been annoyed to see a bird fly into his workbox, and simply shooed her out.  But this man actually worked with the local animal rescue chapter, and he recognized that Linda was an exotic species.  He approached her, quieted her, and contained her.  Then he looked up missing birds, because he knew how to look for people who were asking for help finding lost pets.  Since Rachel had posted to a lost pets website, from there it was quick work to get in touch and make the connection.  He called Rachel and sent her a photo of Linda in his home.  He even drove the 35 miles back to Rachel and Nathan's town the next day, and delivered the bird to them personally.  Linda was fine, except that she had lost her tail-feathers.

Only God.  Seriously.  Only God could orchestrate this.  Gratitude welled up in my heart like a spring that must overflow.  The Lord is good, and full of lovingkindness.  The Lord has compassion on all He has made.  (Psalm 145)

The last time we saw Nathan and Rachel, they told us that ever since her Big Adventure, Linda has been all the more attached to Rachel, and wants to be with her, practically right on her, always.  Nathan said to me, "Linda thought she wanted to fly away into the wide, wild world and have crazy adventures, but she learned.  She found out it's a dangerous place for little birds out there, and the best place to be is in your nice, safe home with the people who love you.  Everything she ever really wanted is right here."  He also told me, at another point and as an aside, "Yeah, I still haven't figured out how that bird came back."  In my heart of hearts, though, I have to believe he knows.

Dear Lord Jesus, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations. (Psalm 90:1)  

Our hearts are restless until they find their rest in you. (Augustine)  

You make known to me the path of life;

You will fill me with joy in Your presence,

with eternal pleasures at your right hand.

Psalm 16:11

2021 is coming

We are almost to the end of 2020, which some may say is a good thing, but I hesitate to rush eagerly into 2021.

For one thing, there's that old saying, "Out of the frying pan, into the fire."  Nobody yet knows the extent the impact of COVID-19 will have on the world economy.  The current regime change in United States government is unlikely to be helpful in that regard.  I am not particularly pro-anything, in terms of our government and the options it has been offering us.  Still, you have to admit that major changes are not generally a key to stability during times of crisis.  Providentially, the United States government is not particularly significant in relation to the vast eternal plan of the God of the Universe.  Even the entire world economy has no power over our God, who created heaven and earth, matter, space and time.  Humankind is prone to worship money and power and fame.  Humankind is prone to put faith in riches to buy peace, joy and health.  Humankind looks to earthly leaders for all these things as well, and when the powers of earth fail at knowing how to manage a virulent virus that nobody has ever seen before, people get angry regardless of what is done or left alone.  Nobody, absolutely nobody, is going to come close to pleasing everybody, and yet we are always looking for a gifted leader who will lead us into utopia.  We are always angry at each woebegone emperor, king or president who fails us, as all will, who attempt to perform in a role that is truly only God's.

God will teach us.  God is teaching us.  When we put our hope in the wrong things--governments, leaders, scientists, businessmen, economic systems--bad things happen.  Bad things are happening, and they will continue to happen, yet those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength, they shall not be put to shame, they will not be disappointed.

I've been immensely thankful for my word of the year this year: Abide.

I memorized a number of verses about abiding: 

John 15: 4 -- "Abide in me and I in you.  As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me."

Psalm 27:4 -- "One thing have I asked of the Lord, that I will seek after: that I may dwell [abide] in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple."

And the one I think may be my favorite...

Psalm 91:1 -- "He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty."

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.  I love that picture so much.  As we sheltered in place these last months, quarantining at home, quiet, alone, isolated, I pondered the shelter of the Most High, a high and lofty place (Isaiah 57:17), yet somehow, through the power and presence of the Holy Spirit, a place that reaches down to both fill and surround me.  I take refuge in the shadow of His wings (Psalm 57:1), until the storms of destruction pass by.

Psalm 5:11 has been a similar comfort to me, although it does not use the word abide, or even the word dwell.  Still, it speaks of God's refuge and protection, precious gifts we needed so much this year:

But let all who take refuge in you rejoice.  Let them ever sing for joy, and spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may exalt in you.

Then it goes on, in verse 12, to say:

For you bless the righteous, O Lord; you cover him with favor as with a shield.

Refuge.  Protection.  Cover.  Shielding.  Shelter.  This is what God is for us when we abide in Him, when we make Him our dwelling place (Psalm 90:1).

We, in our weakness, take refuge in the perfect, holy, righteous and merciful God.  Although we are broken and full of flaws, He gathers us in, close to His heart, and washes us with the blood of Jesus.  He breathes His Spirit into us, bringing forth new life, new creation.  He plants His word and His ways deep into our hearts, transforming them into hearts that seek Him, desire His goodness, long for His Kingdom.  He does all these things.  He covers us with favor, with grace, because He has implanted His own righteousness in us when we had none of our own.  

He is everything.  

He is our breath; the very life that courses through our bodies comes only and directly from Him.  He creates physical life, and although--through sin--physical life has become separated from spiritual life, God is always at work putting them back together again as He redeems His people and implants His Holy Spirit into us.  He makes us alive.

He is the water of life, pouring Himself out over us, softening our ridges and enabling us to receive the seed of His Word of Truth, which is ultimately Christ Jesus the Lord, who came to show us the Father.  Wherever God pours out His Spirit, life grows and flourishes.  He makes us spiritually fertile.

He is our food, the nourishment of our souls, our daily bread.  We need to read His Word and listen to His voice each day, taking Him in, ruminating, swallowing, feasting on His great love.  He gives Himself to us to make us whole, to open our eyes to truth, to strengthen us so we can comprehend His incomprehensible love and thus be filled with all His fullness (Ephesians 3:18-19).  He makes us strong and full.

He is our shelter, our abode.  We dwell in Him and He in us, and He protects us, covers us.  He Himself holds the fate of our faith in His Holy hands, promising that not one of His children will be plucked away from Him (John 10:28).  He is the invincible tower of strength, the rampart around us (Isaiah 26:1).  He keeps us safe.

He is our clothing.  He removes from us our garments of sin and shame, and replaces them with the very righteousness of Jesus Christ who lived a perfect life of love and humility (Isaiah 61:10, Colossians 3:10-14).  As we wear this clothing and seek to walk in Jesus' footsteps, filled with His Spirit, we take on the beauty and nobility of Christ.  He makes us glorious.

Without Him we are like a dead branch, hanging loose in a tree until a storm knocks it to the ground and someone finds it and burns it up in a bonfire.  But when we come to the Lord, open our hearts to Him, respond to His love, we become treasured children, cared for with the utmost compassion and wisdom.

I have loved the word Abide this year.   It was especially helpful to me as I went through another cross-country move.  Where do I live?  I live in Christ.

Thank you, Lord, for leading me to contemplate what it means to abide in You.  When You help me learn to abide, You are gently teaching me humility and dependence, while You simultaneously comfort and protect me.  You truly are my hiding place, my fortress, my stronghold.  As such, because You are full of miracles and paradoxes, You do not sequester me, but You send me out, a vessel full of Your Spirit--in fact, by some mystery, Your abode--to touch others with Your loving power with which you have touched and filled me.  How can I possibly be worthy of this calling?  Only because You clothe me with Your righteousness and shine on me in order to shine through me.  I am filled with both gratitude and fear as I think about these things.   Help me remember that all things are possible with You.  I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.  Thank you for being all, and everything, and more than enough.  Amen.

I think my word for 2021 may be Listen.  I need to listen, listen hard, find out if this is right, find the way.  Lord, help me find the scripture that will teach me about listening as You would have me listen. 

It's okay. Mostly. I think.

My heart for blogging is gone.

Blogging isn't what I thought it was.  It's just one big, massive cyber Tupperware party, everyone trying to get in on some profits.  I don't like going to Tupperware parties, and I would never host one.

I thought blogging was a form of friendship, of connection, but it isn't.  Cyberspace doesn't give you friendships.  It's too busy, too packed with distractions.  I can get on my computer with the intention of researching the light exposure needs for a cryptomeria, or to order a birthday present, and two hours later, I'll look up from a news story about possible COVID therapies and wonder where my day has gone.  Panicked, I jump away from the screen and rush back to whatever I had been doing before, only to realize that I failed to complete my initial intentional task at the computer.  Then ambivalent dread seizes my heart.  Do I risk going back and losing another two hours of my day?  Or do I abort attempts at completing the task I had set for myself?

With so many distractions, obviously we do not use social media--blogs or otherwise--for the tending of relationships.  When one small voice in the entire electronic nexus drops out, there are so many others clamoring to fill the void, nobody would ever think to check in with a, "Hey.  Where have you been?  Are you okay?"  It's a lonely, frantic crowd, that online congregation.

Fall is here.  In North Carolina, fall is mild.  It has been a lovely time to garden.  We've been moving shrubs, transplanting irises, tearing out zinnias and cosmos.  On Saturday, I transplanted three baby cedar trees, volunteers.  I think cedars are captivating, and their name is, too.  JRR Tolkien said that the most beautiful sounding words in the English language are, "Cellar Door."  If that's true, then the reflected sounds in the name, "Cedar Laura," would make a most lovely moniker for a baby girl.

I've also had a resurgent interest in cooking.  Who knows how long that will last.  We got a grill at the end of September, finally replacing the one we left behind a year ago when we moved, and that has been a blessing.  When I don't feel like cooking, Shawn can make hamburgers now.  We stock giant sacks of frozen Tater Tots to complete these meals.

I should be blogging about things I'm thankful for.  That was a good discipline and a good practice, Novembers past. It always raised my spirits even as the days shortened into brief surges of light in the darkness.  But currently I find myself overwhelmed at the prospect of teasing apart my gratitude for God's gifts from pride in what I have, and from unintentional reminders to others of what they may not have.

Sometimes it is easiest to say nothing.

I tried to create a gluten-free recipe for pineapple-cherry-almond muffins today, but they baked up flat-topped.  I will eat them anyway, and be thankful.  The batter was tasty, so I have a certain amount of modest hope for flavor in spite of appearance.

I had intended to break my streak of once-a-month blogging and actually try to do daily thankful posts in November, but you can see how that has turned out.  If this is, indeed, the only post I write in November, as per my current pattern, then it is, indeed, a lame post.  And no pictures, either.

But there you have it.

Selfishness... and our only hope

The problem with government systems is, of course, the fact that the people who run them are always inevitably selfish.

The reason governing authorities--"rulers," if you like that term--are selfish is this: 

Every person is selfish.  

Every single person is selfish.  I am selfish.  You are selfish.  The birthday boy is selfish, and the girl who danced the lead in the Nutcracker, and the man who booked the last campsite available at the campground, and the woman who pulled into the parking spot I was hoping to get at Target.  We are all born hard-wired to look out for #1, and #1, in each of our perspectives, is the almighty "I."  We even capitalize it in English; that's how normal selfishness is.

Normal, however, does not necessarily mean good, or right, or fair.  It is normal to pass gas after you eat legumes cooked with onions, but that doesn't mean it is desirable.  Our selfishness is normal and natural, but it is not helpful or good.  Still, it is a state of being.  Most people are fairly slow to share with others, unless they trust that by sharing, they will earn the right to expect someone to share with them.  This is why people often work to befriend those they believe will benefit them.  People are selfish.  They trade favors for favors, gifts for gifts, and sometimes favors and gifts for the opportunity to leverage a popular person's reputation for their betterment.

Normal people give to get back, and they do not give if they do not think they will get anything back.  Kind people will give without expectation of a return on investment.  However, even then, they generally make sure that their needs are met first.  Kind people will share their extra.  They do not give away what they perceive they need, only what they can do without.  Very few people give sacrificially.  Very, very few people are more concerned with caring for others than they are with caring for themselves, regularly giving up what they need so that another's need can be met.  Such behavior doesn't even make sense to most people.  This is the nature of humanity.

And, this is why government systems are all messed up.

Capitalism, conservatism, "The Right," whatever you want to call it, was set up with the concept of human selfishness at its core.  Capitalism says: If you let people compete in a free market, and give them freedom to own property, and make money, and spend their money as they wish, they will naturally work hard to profit themselves, because people are by nature selfish and greedy.  Now, this is quite an interesting way to set things up, because it is true.  People will work, and compete, and fight and cheat to get ahead.  As we have said, this is the nature of humanity.  Capitalism capitalizes on the fact that people are driven to grasp for themselves, and it organizes a system whereby people can eagerly grasp away, and thus be productive, and thus build a society together.  This works fairly well for awhile, because it is implemented by realists who understand some basics about human nature.  However, over time, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.  The people who began winning the game go on to dominate the game, while those who have fallen behind lose hope and motivation, falling farther and farther behind.  As the gap between the rich and the poor increases, so does hostility and polarization.  Injustice breeds hate, and hate breeds violence, and then you end up somewhere similar to where the USA is right now, and ultimately in a bloody revolution.

However, Socialism and Communism are poor answers to this problem, because they are not based on reality.  Socialism and Communism are based on the idea that people are naturally altruistic--kind and honest--and will be happy to share and share alike, everyone throwing all his property into one big pot to be doled out to whomever has need of it.  Communism, in particular, is an insidious lie, because it takes a shared property system, but places a group of government elites--powerful leaders--at the center to collect and redistribute all of the "state" property.  They become the ruling class--the "State"--and historically they have ruled as harsh dictators, keeping the best for themselves and imprisoning, sometimes even executing, anyone who dissents.  Freedom is utterly lost.

Socialism is like Communism, but trusts that the people themselves will be able, democratically,  to distribute the shared (never privately owned) property to one another.  Of course, given the naturally selfish nature of humanity, this is a very risky idea.   But even riskier is the problem of motivation.  Those who would work hard in a Capitalist system, striving to amass their personal wealth, look around at the Socialist system and see that if they work hard to produce a lot, it will only be taken away from them and given to someone else.  They resent that the fruit of their hard work is taken from them for the benefit of someone who does not have the work ethic or investment in training that they have.  If everyone is paid the same, given the same style of government-issue apartment, the same style pants and shirts, the same soap, the same cereal, the same bed and the same chairs, why should anyone work particularly hard?  In Socialism, as it ripens, everyone only wants to put in 35 hours a week working slowly at the DMV, and then go home, drink beer, and play video games.  The obvious problem is if that's all anybody does, the pool of publicly owned property dwindles rapidly, and scarcity becomes a huge issue: we're back to widespread, desperate poverty.

So we're stuck, right?  Because if we use personal gain to motivate people to work, with Capitalism, then the bullies win in the end, and the weaker, poorer, less fortunate people suffer.  But if we take away the money the rich people have made, through taxes and whatever other means we think of, and reallocate it to people who are poorly employed or unemployed, we either drive the rich away (as in the topmost classes, who move to far away places and put their money into foreign bank accounts), or we demotivate hard workers from working hard, and both results decrease our overall wealth as a nation, thus decreasing resources and standard of living for all.

We need a system that will motivate hard work and personal achievement while simultaneously motivating the rich to help the poor.  We need to demonstrate realistically that sharing wealth is a benefit to all society.  It is not productive to hate rich people.  It is not fair simply to commandeer their stuff.  We have to appreciate them, and convince them that a beautiful world full of amply-fed, happy people--people who are doing well because resources have been shared--is a better place for them than one where they live in an ivory tower while the masses suffer in sewage outside their gates.

How can we do this?

We have to counter selfishness.  We must wage war against the the grain of human nature.

The only way to do this, the only way to change natural selfishness into love for others, love for those who need but do not deserve help, is to turn to the gospel.

The gospel tells us that there is a great and mighty God who created us in His own image, so that we could love Him and be loved by Him.  He did not create us as mere puppets or robots.  He created us as thinking, feeling, philosophical beings with the ability to make choices.  And when one has the ability to make choices, one also--necessarily--has the ability to make mistakes.

And oh, how we make mistakes.  Eve believed the first lie, the lie that God was holding out on her, keeping her from something good.  The only thing God was keeping from Adam and Eve was the knowledge of evil, the experience of shame, pain and suffering.  They didn't know what those things were, only that they did not have them, and so they thought they wanted them.  They chose to grasp for the knowledge of evil, believing the lie that it would make them better, happier.  And of course, it only brought them strife, the strife we still suffer under to this day.

They, like we, needed but did not deserve help.

The Bible says, "All we like sheep have gone astray, we have turned, every one, to his own way..." (Isaiah 53:6).

But God loves us anyway.  God has compassion on us, because He made us.  He knows the potential with which He infused us at creation.  He knows what we can become under His grace, if we will only come back.  And although we had hopelessly entangled ourselves in a deadly lie, God took on flesh and became a human, like us, to bear in His body--on His own perfect self--the penalty our sins demanded.  He gave up His divine identity-- His omnipresence, His invulnerability, His glory--to obtain for us the salvation we desperately needed.

But He was wounded for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with His stripes we are healed.  All we like sheep have gone astray, we have turned every one to his own way, and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.  ~Isaiah 53:5-6

He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in His mouth.  When He was reviled, He did not revile in return; when He suffered He did not threaten, but continued entrusting Himself to Him who judges justly.  He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, so that we might die to sin and live to righteousness.  By His wounds you have been healed.  For you were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.  ~1 Peter 2:22-25

Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God.  ~1 Peter 3:18

God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God.  ~2 Corinthians 5:21

[He] being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made Himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a man [as if that weren't enough...]  He humbled Himself and became obedient to death--even death on a cross!  ~Philippians 2:6-8

Jesus humbled Himself to a death He did not deserve, so that we could be cleansed from our sin and clothed with His righteousness.  He calls us to follow His example: We are to pour ourselves out for the good of others, as God fills us with His Spirit and the strength and the love of Christ Himself.

In God's Kingdom, everyone is valued.  Everyone receives full provision.  God created each one of us unique, with our own gifts and abilities.  No two of us are the same, and He designed us such that when we reach our God-given potential, we will all work together with miraculous divine synergy.  We will all esteem one another.  Nobody will be viewed as better than anyone else.  We will treasure our complementary differences and rejoice in the way God has designed us all to cooperate in perfect, stunning harmony (Romans 12:3-18, 1 Corinthians 12:12-13:13).  We will each have exactly what we need, and our greatest delight will be in sharing with one another as we trust the Lord to be the Source who bountifully, generously, joyfully provides all our needs.  It will actually be kind of like a functional Communism or Socialism--we will gladly surrender our resources to God, and trust that in His perfect wisdom and justice, He will be the One--the absolute only One--who is able to allocate everything fairly and for the true, supreme benefit of all.  Righteousness will reign, and righteousness is the result of a powerful, others-focused love.  The love of God.

Our hearts overflow with joy and thanksgiving, because we do not deserve this, but we receive it through the grace and compassion of Jesus Christ.  He teaches us never to look down on others, because we are all utterly lost without the salvation of Christ, and apart from Him there is no good thing.

The lie goes on and on.  Satan is a liar and the father of lies.  His motivation is to deface the glory of God.  He attacks from every possible angle, even through people who claim to know God, people who adopt and desecrate the very name of Christ.  If the devil can't smack you down by tempting you to hate the 10 Commandments, he'll smack you down with pride, self-righteousness and selfishness, insidious sins that others see in us long before we recognize them in ourselves.

But Jesus tells us that He will reveal to us the truth, and the truth will set us free.  Jesus assures us that He Himself is the way, the truth and the life.  Jesus invites us to abide in Him, and promises to abide in us, through His precious Holy Spirit, forming and transforming our hearts to be gracious and humble like His.  Jesus is our only hope, but what a hope!  He is the unfailing hope, the faithful God, grounded in love, plenty for all, a sure anchor for our souls, the Shepherd who has vowed to rescue His beloved sheep, bind our wounds and carry us home.

When we receive and extend the love of Christ, we can change things, touching and healing one life at a time, one degree of glory to another, by the power of the Spirit.

Waiting with maybe a little more more hope

 

I don't have ideas anymore.

Used to be, I'd take a shower and the thoughts would run into my brain like soap runs into my eyes, and my heart would burn to get them out.

Now, thoughts pass through before I can catch them.  I think, "Maybe I'll write about that," and then I think, "Write about what?"

The move nearly killed me.  That must be part of it.

It's over now, finally, after a year of owning two houses and going back and forth, trying to tend two gardens (or six, or seven, depending on how you count), and trying to keep six toilets from growing mold.  It got to the point where I'd slump in my seat of the van with an empty mind, my body numb between the aches and tingles, and just wait for life to fall on me as we drove across the country from one house to the other.  Some item I needed always seemed to be in the other place, and I gave up trying to fix it.  Now, at the end, I have two of lots of things.  Two jugs of bleach.  Two bottles of Dawn.  Two large containers of Oxyclean.  Those are just the ones I noticed this morning.

Yesterday I sat on the front walk and picked deadheads off a pink coreopsis.  The air was crisp, the sun was warm, and the tendrils of the plant gave way easily between my fingernails, satisfying little pops of tiny dried flower-heads gone to seed.  I thought, "I would be happy if all I ever had to do again was sit here and deadhead this plant."  It simply floated into my head, that thought, and I wondered why.

Why do I like to work outside, puttering from this to that, dragging hoses around, carrying sprinkling cans, plucking yellow leaves and spent blossoms?  Yesterday I tore out the last of the cosmos, which never really bloomed, and if they were planning to bloom in October, well, that's just too late.  Long ago, we took a parenting course that taught us, "Slow obedience is disobedience," which, in retrospect, I'm not sure I entirely agree with, but those words echoed loudly in my head as I yanked out those cosmos.

Yet, some things are happening.  We now only own one house, for one, and that is a great relief.  God removed a barrier, and our house sold.  This is a matter for great thanksgiving.  For another, we finally ventured out to visit a church, the first time since the Corona Virus has been at large.  It was a good visit, a visit to a place where the people were truly loving, in a way we've rarely experienced.  A miracle may have occurred on Sunday morning, and I am still pondering the implications, unready to elaborate.

May God show us the way.  May He continue to work His will.  May His glory dominate the earth.

For the earth will be filled

with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord

as the waters cover the sea.

~Habakkuk 2:14

Humbly Accept

Surely 

goodness and mercy shall 

f o l l o w  me

 a l l    t h e    d a y s    o f    m y    l i f e 

and I shall 

ll  dwell in the house of the Lord  ll

...forever...

~Psalm 23:6

I'm on the lookout for my promised goodness and mercy.  At times, I see it clearly, although as likely as not, as soon as I've had a clear view, it fades into fog and doubts crop up like the crabgrass I found in my lawn after two weeks away.

And yet, God is good.  How could He not be good, when He humbled Himself to become human and die on a cross in order to rescue our struggling souls?  How could He not be good, when He loved us enough to die for us while we were still sinners, helplessly entangled in our natural sinful state?  And if He loved us enough to give His only begotten Son for the salvation of our eternal souls, how will He not also, along with the gift of Christ, graciously give us all things?  

Indeed, God promises to give us everything that pertains to life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3-4).  The Apostle Paul writes, "And my God will supply every need of yours according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus," (Philippians 4:19).  King David wrote, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want," (Psalm 23:1).  Jesus taught, "Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him... Therefore do not be anxious, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' ...your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.  But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you," (Matthew 6:8, 31-33).

Last night I was so tired, I struggled to balance as I washed my feet before bed, just my feet, because I was too tired to wash my whole self.  I stumbled on the bathmat and felt angry because every movement was difficult, everything felt too hard.

Too hard to turn the faucet handle and feel for the water to get hot.  Much too hard to avoid splashing as my hand drifted under the flow.  Too hard to reach for the soap.  Too hard to bend, too hard to step over the edge of the tub.  Too hard to fetch myself a glass of ice water, even though I was very thirsty.  So I sat, face cupped in my hands, forcing myself to will the energy to take deep breaths, feeling the anger well up and violently erase any remnant of patience I might have had for this hampered existence.

Lupus is limiting, it cannot be denied.  I am so incredibly fortunate to have a life that is normally very low key, a life I can usually handle.  Ordinary days, I rest and read, garden and maybe go to a store, make the bed, fix a meal, vacuum a rug, brush a toilet, wash some dishes, fold some laundry.  I can forget that I have lupus, until I come upon days when I have to travel far and work breathlessly, hard and fast, doing many tasks in a day instead of only a few.  I get angry when I remember that I have lupus, but that is irrational, because I should be thankful for so many days when I am able to forget.

Man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires for us.  That's from James 1:20, right after the part that admonishes us to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry (James 1:19).  I've been thinking about these verses lately.  It occurred to me that we usually pull out that part: be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.  We apply it to the way we ought to communicate with other people.  This is certainly a good and helpful application; we all need to be better listeners.  

Yet, I think it may miss the primary intent of the passage.  I think the passage is about listening to God, coming to Him with a humility that is ready to hear what He has to say, putting aside our own arguments about how we think things should be.

I think the passage is about listening to God, and accepting God's truth, God's wisdom.  I say this because of what comes both before and after this statement.

Before this statement, James has been writing about persevering through trials and temptations and coming through victoriously.  He explains that God never tempts us to sin (James 1:13), but that we are tempted to sin when we indulge our own evil desires, when we allow ourselves to be enticed by the devil's lie that there exist good things which God is withholding from us, that God would deny us joy and satisfaction, and so we must grasp for what we desire outside of His will.  We decide that we know better than God what will make us happy.

This is, of course, foolish pride.  Just as a parent knows that too much candy and too late a bedtime will make a child sick and miserable, just as a doctor knows that sunburns and cigarettes result in cancer, God knows that sin, no matter how much people think they enjoy it, results in death.

James writes about the deceitful allure of sin, how we are enticed by our evil desires to follow the pathway to sin and death.

But each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed.  Then, after sinful desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin, and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.  ~James 1:14-15

James counters the lies of the devil (whose goal is to deceive and draw everyone into his death-trap), by explaining the truth: everything good comes from God.  God loves us and gives us His perfect gifts.  God is good, generous, and full of love, life and light, holding them out to us, offering bountifully and kindly.

Don't be deceived, my dear brothers.  Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.  He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all He created.  ~James 1:16-18

And this is where we come upon the famous verse about being quick to listen, and slow to speak or become angry.

"Don't be deceived, my dear brothers," James has exhorted.  Don't be deceived by the fraudulent allure of sin.  Underneath the frothy whipped cream and glistening cherry, there's deadly poison.  Don't be deceived, because every good and perfect gift comes from God, who has given His children new birth through the word of truth that enables them to unmask their enemy, 

enables us to unmask our enemy.

"Don't be deceived, my dear brothers..." and then James continues, tenderly, winsomely (1:19), "My dear brothers, take note of this: everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry."  We should be quick to listen to God, to the word of truth, to the merciful warnings God gives us to stay away from sin, to flee from immorality, to guard our hearts and minds from the tactics of the evil one.

You can see how this meaning, that we ought to be quick and eager to listen to the Lord, derives from what comes before this famous verse.  

The same interpretation is supported by the verses that come after it:

For man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.  ~James 1:20

While this has some bearing on the peace and righteousness which result when people communicate well and listen sensitively to one another, the clearer meaning, in context, is that anger against God's truth does not help a person avoid temptation or gain victory over sin, which is James' main point here.  The next verse makes it even more obvious:

Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you which can save you.  ~James 1:21

When a person believes in Jesus, it means that the person has accepted the truth about God.  The truth about God is the word of truth (James 1:18).  It is the word planted in us which saves us (1:21).

Jesus is the Word of God.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  He was with God in the beginning...The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us.  We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.  ~John 1:1-2, 14

Jesus Himself said,

I am the way and the truth and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me.  ~John 14:6

When we are born into the kingdom of God, God implants us with the Word of Truth, the very Spirit of Christ, to transform us from the inside out, in a way that no external behavior modification program ever could.  

When we repent and agree with God that He is--indeed--God, and we are not, 

When we understand that we are fallen, broken creatures in a fallen, broken world,  

When we see that we have nothing to offer Him, but He offers us everything,

When we perceive the destructive nature of sin, and long with all our hearts to be set free from its control,

When we comprehend the all-surpassing love and beauty of Christ and run to Him with outstretched arms, ready to be washed of our sins and clothed with His righteousness and life,

Then, right then, immediately, He gives us His own Holy Spirit to abide in us and help us from that day forward.  There is a sudden and immediate change which may or may not be visible.  And there is a progressive and long-acting (some may say "slow release") change that will become increasingly more apparent over time.

But because of His great love for us, 

God, who is rich in mercy, 

made us alive with Christ 

even when we were dead in transgressions--

it is by grace you have been saved.  

And God raised us up with Christ, 

and seated us with Him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus,

in order that in the coming ages

He might show the incomparable riches of His grace,

expressed in His kindness to us in Christ Jesus.

~Ephesians 2:4-7

And we all, with unveiled face,

beholding the glory of the Lord,

are being transformed into the same image,

from one degree of glory to another.

For this comes from the Lord

who is the Spirit.

~2 Corinthians 3:18

Now we have received not the spirit of the world,

but the Spirit who is from God,

that we might understand the things freely given us by God.

And we impart this in words not taught by human wisdom

but taught by the Spirit,

interpreting spiritual truths to those who are spiritual...

For who has understood the mind of the Lord 

so as to instruct Him?

But we have the mind of Christ.

~1 Corinthians 2:12-13, 16

This is why I believe that James meant we should be quick to listen to God, slow to insist that God should consider our point of view (as though He did not already know all our thoughts anyway), and very slow to become angry with God (why do we forget that He is never wrong?).

We need to learn humility, to humbly accept the truth of God for what it is: Truth.  When our ideas, our perspectives, even our experiences do not line up with the truth of God, these are opportunities to grow our faith muscles. Like any other discipline, it is hard, but it is good.  And unlike other disciplines, this one comes with special divine help for success.  God implants His Spirit in us to help us.  We can't do any of it without Him.

We need Him desperately, and it will be okay, because He delights to meet our needs.

In the hot house

                                                      Pink Gaura--Image by Annette Meyer from Pixabay
                                                                            (Mine does not look anything like this)

North Carolina is hot in July.  It's been a challenge to keep the garden watered.  I go out shortly after I awaken, dressed in grubby gardening duds, and I pour with sweat.

Eventually, I come back inside, strip the dripping clothing from my radiating flesh, and soak in a cool bath until I feel better.

This is the rhythm of my days.

I don't think about getting sick.  I don't think about anything.  I prune, deadhead, weed, water and fertilize.  I try to figure out how much sun hits where, when.  I google lots and lots of plants online.  I wear a mask when I go out to buy food, or garden supplies, or toiletries.  Otherwise, I stay home.

Currently, I am trying to figure out which plants will survive in a very hot, southwest exposure that gets only about 4 hours of harsh afternoon sun.  It's simply too harsh and hot for any shade loving plants, and too shady for the sun loving ones.

Perhaps I can plant a screen of something high, that loves the sun, that will get enough sun because of its height, while providing full shade for the remaining area, so I can put in a few astilbes.  I adore pink astilbes.

I'll need to puzzle on this for awhile.

Gardening gets me thinking again and again about life.

Today I chopped down my shrub roses.  I'd been planning to do this in February or March, to ready them for next spring, but I just couldn't stand them, all lanky and jutting in odd directions.  This morning, I went right after them, as fast as I could before the morning shade was gone on the southwestern tip of the garden, which gets more like 8-10 hours of sun once it's off and running (so I often simply miss a chance to work there, because Shawn is always tracking my sun time and warning me to get into the shade).  I cut them down to an organized collection of canes, removing dead wood, wild branching ends, and canes that crossed.  I may have killed them, but I have quite a bit of confidence that I couldn't kill them if I wanted to, which I may (they aren't the most beautiful roses, by any means).  After I thoroughly cleaned them up, I fertilized them with systemic rose fertilizer, the kind that feeds and provides systemic control against insects and diseases.  Strong stuff.  I've been pouring about a gallon of water on each bush (there are three) every couple hours throughout this stiflingly hot day.  They are not waterlogged.  I wonder what will happen, and how long it will be before I can tell.

As I plundered these plants, reaching into crevices with my pruning shears, snipping and snapping and tossing aside, I wondered about God, our heavenly vinedresser, who prunes His people for our growth and His glory.  A tender green cane rises from the center of the plant, sprouting some cute little leaves and buds, fresh and hopeful but headed nowhere helpful, twining around other, better canes.  I snip it at its base, thinking, "I hope I am a whole bush, and not just a cane.  I hope God snips out the undesirable parts of who I am, to make room for the good person He is transforming me into.  I hope He would not snip someone--me--out in entirety."  I don't think He would.  Nevertheless, pruning is painful.

I think of plants that find themselves in spots where they cannot thrive.  This home came with some gaura.  I finally figured out what it is.  The previous homeowner had stuck it into the center of a bed, and it never did thrive.  Not enough sun.  When some professionals came to prune our Japanese maple this spring, one of them stepped on the best gaura and killed it, but there were two others, which I think had been self-sown by the martyr.  Silly plants, they are growing in shade.  I moved one, before I even knew what it was, gaura with its finicky taproot that hates being moved.  It had been struggling right at the base of the Japanese maple, so any other location had to be more hospitable.  After the transplant, it actually got more sun than the one next to it, which had chosen its own location, but both of them have performed miserably.  Still, the one I moved survived, and that is a very encouraging fact.  I will try to move them again, in the fall or next spring, because there is 100% certainty that they look terrible where they are, and only a very high chance that they will die in another move.  If they make it, they will flower in pink, my favorite.

With God, there is perfect skill and wisdom, perfect technique.  If He transplants us, for His purpose, we will eventually take to our given spot (Acts 17:26-27).  This is important to me, given the fact that I recently moved, and shortly thereafter world events turned to chaos and insanity.  I do not feel the least bit rooted in my new location.  I've been trying to root some salvia cuttings in glasses of water on my screen porch.  Working with cuttings is a new thing for me.  It is amazing to me that you can cut a hunk off a plant, stick it into some water and wait.  Sometimes, it will actually grow roots out its bottom and new little sprouts out its top, and you can transfer it to a  container of potting soil and baby it until it becomes big enough to add to the garden.  Who knew?

God can cut us off the plant we were attached to, but He doesn't necessarily cast us away.  He might re-pot us, keep us in a nursery for awhile, even coddle us a bit, and then put us out again to flower.

God's coddling may come in the form of a precious tiny grandson to love.  What a blessing, to be the grammy, and have the energy to help when the momma is spent.  What a blessing to hold a tiny baby and remember one's own, but this time there is all the familiarity and all the precious newness, with none of the post-partum recovery, none of the fear, none of the overwhelmed feelings that accompanied the first round.  Pure joy.  A little person who trusts me, looks into my eyes and tells me that he knows me.  I am his grammy, and he is my comfort from the Lord.

Summer solstice

I always look forward to the summer solstice.

This year, it was extra special, because smack-dab on the summer solstice,
in the middle of the day --11:59 a.m. to be exact,
just in time to experience high noon on the longest day of the year--
my second grandson was born.

I am now the incredibly blessed grandma of a winter solstice grandson with platinum blond hair,

(James Michael, 12/23/2018, held by his mother, my daughter)

and a summer solstice grandson with surprisingly black hair.

(Preston Daniel, 6/20/2020, held by his father, my son)

I always wonder if the Second Coming of Christ will occur at the summer solstice, that He, by the power that enables Him to subject all things to Himself (Philippians 3:21), will transform the longest day of the year into a day of glory that will never, ever end.

The first time He came, Jesus entered the physical universe as it was descending into darkness, the darkness that had entered the world through the sin of Adam and Eve.

"You may surely eat of every tree of the garden," God instructed Adam, "but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it, you shall surely die." (Genesis 2:16-17)

In that beautiful garden, where life and light never came to an end, who knows how long Adam and Eve lived in happy obedience?  It could have been weeks, or days, or it could have been only a few hours.  It could have been a millennia.  In that time, there was no death.

Adam and Eve did not even have any knowledge of death.  All they had known was good, plenty, satisfaction, joy and peace.  When they worked, they did so with every skill and every resource.  Every job they did was rewarding, gratifying, fruitful and fulfilling.  No aphids ate their roses, nor did fungi blight their tomatoes.  Drought?  No such thing!  Tornadoes?  Never.  Every aspect of their lives unfolded unhindered, under the benevolent direction of God.  It was always summer, but never oppressively hot, and in the cool of the day, they walked side-by-side with the Lord.

And then the serpent came to tempt them to turn away from this loving Father who provided so generously and bountifully for them.  There were things the Lord was keeping from them, the serpent said, things God did not want them to know.

As with every effective lie, there was a kernel of truth in what the serpent said.  God had created all things, and then pronounced them good, good, good, good, good and very good (Genesis 1:10, 12, 18, 21, 25, 31).  Adam and Eve lived in the midst of abundant goodness, experiencing and knowing it every day.  What was God keeping from them?  He was keeping them from evil, warning them to stay away from the knowledge of evil.  Like the good, good Father that He is, He knew that they would not like evil, that it would hurt them and bring them sorrow.

So yes, God knew more than Adam and Eve knew, and He had warned them that evil would bring death.  Yet, how could two innocent beings in paradise, who had never known pain or want of any kind, understand what death was?  They had no framework within which to imagine death.  All they had was God's kind and lavish provision of good.  In hindsight, we can argue that they ought to have trusted in God because of the goodness they had already received from Him.  Yet, we must understand that they had no negative experience to enable them to comprehend the perfection of their situation.

"Did God actually say, 'You shall not eat of any tree in the garden'?" the serpent asked Eve.

"We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden," Eve replied, "but God said, 'You shall not eat of the tree that is in the midst of the garden, neither shall you touch it, lest you die.'"

And then that humdinger of a lie: the serpent told Eve, "You will not surely die.  For God knows that when you eat of it, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."

O, dear brothers and sisters of the earth, please see what the enemy wants to do to us.  He knows the grace of God, the love God has for His masterpiece of creation, the man and woman whom He created to reflect the glory of His own likeness.  Satan wants to destroy us, destroy the mirroring of God's image, obscure the glory, darken the lights.   Satan knew that God, who is love, would not temperamentally dash us into oblivion for our disobedience, so he said, "You will not surely die."  And, to many, it looks as though they didn't.  Just as flowers cut from a garden remain beautiful for awhile, so Adam and Eve looked across at one another after eating the fruit, surmising that things seemed mostly okay.  Yet, in that moment of disobedience, that one bad decision which visited misery over all the earth in its wake, the beginning of death came into the world.  Life was cloven from its Source. Two immortal beings lost their immortality and began to fade.  What would have lasted forever suddenly became subject to death; every flower blossom and blade of grass, every bird, fish and rabbit, every elephant and giraffe, suddenly faced a death sentence.  I often wonder if it was at this juncture when God instituted reproduction, a mitigating factor to enable the continuity of life, even in the face of death (this idea helps clear a bit of my confusion over 1 Timothy 2:15).

It occurs to me: The entrance of sin and death into the world coordinates symbolically with the fall equinox.  Winter is not here, but the decay, the deterioration has begun.  There will be no going backward to summer, only a journey through winter with the hope of rebirth.

Darkness increases daily until the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year.  But instead of dissolving into eternal death at the point of the winter solstice, we celebrate the birth of Jesus.  Jesus came to deliver us from death and offer eternal life to all who will turn from rebellion, accepting His gracious forgiveness through the blood of His cross.  That tiny baby born in a stable, the light of the world, came to turn the tide in a new direction.  The change began small, but it's growing towards infinity even now.  As a reminder, every year by January 1, daylight will have increased by approximately 2.5 minutes, and the increase accelerates as the spring equinox approaches.

We celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus at the spring equinox.  The spring equinox is when the balance of light and dark in a day shifts to more light than dark.  After the fall equinox, each day contains more dark than light, ever increasing in darkness until it culminates in the darkest day on the winter solstice.  The beauty of the winter solstice is that light begins to increase as soon as it passes!  And the beauty of the spring equinox is that light begins to overshadow darkness.  Christ is risen!  The sin debt is settled, paid by the only human who could live a perfect life, God Himself in flesh.  We need only come to Him in faith and receive His Spirit, who lovingly connects us back to our Source of life.

I am sure that God planned these life rhythms purposefully and led us to celebrate His feasts at the most appropriate times of the year.

And this is why I think that it is quite possible that the Return of Christ, the Second Coming, will happen around the summer solstice.  That year, when it comes, the passing of the summer solstice will not mean that days begin once more to shorten.  Instead, our days will lengthen and lengthen, until there is no more night at all, only light, forever and ever, on the beautiful day that knows no end.

And night will be no more.  

They will need no light of lamp or sun, 

for the Lord God will be their light, 

and they will reign forever and ever!

~Revelation 22:5

Dear Lord, may my sweet summer and winter solstice grandsons live to know you and trust you and worship you.  May they love you with all their hearts, souls and minds, and may we all live together in glory for eternity.  Amen.

My secret grammy names for them are Spero, for the blond boy of hope,
and Nico, for the summer boy of victory.
I only think these names in my head,
and pray by them.

Today I did this

Try to write a book.  Draw a picture instead.

Missing out

There's a new acronym around:  FOMO.  It stands for Fear Of Missing Out.  This is a thing.

Perhaps we should revisit a famous old poem:

The Road Less Taken

            by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

The point: you are always going to give up something.  You are one person, with one life, and each day when you get out of bed, you make choices to do certain things, and not to do other things.  You will definitely miss out on some things, and that's okay, but it is good to know that this is how it works.  When we understand, we can choose intentionally, rationally, wisely.

Perhaps I am skipping ahead, but we can make the leap from FOMO to a life lived wisely if we understand which things are best missed, and which things we surely want to avoid missing at all costs.

Here I will interject my gratitude for the Lord who made heaven and earth and reigns in sovereign grace over all things.  Ultimately, He is in control, and I do not live in fear, not even fear of missing out, because I trust Him to guide me.  When I obliviously miss His guidance, I trust Him to correct me and use my mistakes as valuable learning experiences that perhaps even prepare me for something wonderful and useful.  Yes, He is that good.  Such inconceivable goodness should not make us careless about making mistakes.  However, it means we do not need to live in dread of making a mistake, because God will ultimately redeem everything.  He works all things for good for His beloved children, and He is for us, so nothing can stand against us, not even our unfortunate choices.  This grants great freedom and confidence to those who follow the Lord.

Yesterday I wrote about how God gives us what we want.  He allows us to choose our path, and although He will orchestrate circumstances to influence us in one direction or another, He will never force or coerce us to follow Him.  Lovingly, He stands by, offering life and salvation to all who will call on His name.  He offers His gifts right up to the very end, as He did for the thief on the cross next to Jesus.  The Lord has no desire to punish or destroy people, but only to save, heal and restore.

In life, we will miss out on whatever we choose not to do during the days we have been given.  Jesus promised that if we will abide in Him and keep His commandments, we will experience fullness of joy.  Implicit in that promise is this: the things God asks us to give up are worthless anyway. Now, it is obvious that people who neither know nor believe in Jesus do not see how living a righteous and godly life would yield fullness of joy.  However, I have noticed that people who purport to be Christians, believers in Jesus, followers of God, often have just as lacking a concept of this fullness of joy.

Jesus is the source of joy.  Knowing Him is the reward.  Carrying the treasure of His precious, powerful, immortal Holy Spirit within us as we navigate the journey of life in this world, this is what we long for, this is what we seek, this is where we rest and rejoice and find refreshment, the very water of life itself.

And yet, Satan has slyly, successfully lied to us, repeatedly, so many times that we never think to question the assumptions that live in our hearts.  Deep down, in wraps so cleverly arranged we have no idea they are there, we take for granted that the path of sin is the path we are loathe to miss out on.  Even people who have been Christians all their lives, who grew up in the safety and security of godly homes full of respect and cleanliness and compassion, look across to the other side of the fence at the wild parties, the promiscuous relationships, the chemically induced mood swings, the piles of material possessions accrued through selfishness, the mind-numbing images of airbrushed false-beauty gyrating under flashing lights on the TV screen, and they might even turn the TV off, but they feel a thwarted hankering.  They feel like they are missing out.

Many of these people live with a sort of brittle bitterness.  "If you were not a Christian," Satan whispers to them, "you could enjoy all those fun things, too."  It happens so often, perhaps even constantly, that they don't even hear Satan's words.  The idea simply becomes part of who they are.  Some of them become increasingly bitter, and fall into thoughts such as, "Look at all the things I am giving up for the Lord.  He sure better make heaven good, to make it up to me for all I've gone without."  My heart aches to write about it, but I know this is true.  People think and feel this way towards our loving heavenly Father.  Prideful and blind, we can lose every concept of grace and the overwhelming kindness of God, who welcomes broken people into His kingdom where He invites us to receive complete restoration and renewal, to bask forever in His presence, a pleasure exponentially surpassing in every way the most beautiful, sunny, beach day ever experienced.

[Others--who also self-identify as Christians--decide that "keeping His commandments" (John 15:10) is "legalism," and it is fine to go out and wallow in the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life (see 1 John 2:15-17).  They do not know their Bibles or their God--indeed, it is impossible to know God without knowing His word, where He reveals Himself.  But they prefer to make up their own rules and claim "freedom in Christ" as license to love the world and the things that are of the world.  They are oblivious to the truth that our poor fallen world is poisonous, and the precepts of God are a generous gift, an antidote to the venom, given only and always for our best good, God's own loving directions to help us find freedom from the crippling bondage of sin that leads to death.]

I am trying to say that we--and when I say "we," I mean myself and others who share my faith in Jesus Christ--can tend towards a warped and irrational fear that we are missing out on the pleasures of the world.  This leads us to a warped and irrational interpretation of stories like the one about the thief on the cross.  We think, "Oh!  Don't tell unbelievers they could get away with a last minute decision like that!  Then they will just party and sin all their lives, and afterwards, they will repent at the last minute and get into heaven and receive all of God's heavenly reward, too. That's not fair.  That's not fair to us, because we are giving up so much."

There's a parable about this, you know. Matthew 20:1-16 tells about a vineyard owner who went out to hire workers for his vineyard.  He went out in the morning, at mid-day, in the afternoon, and in the evening right before the day's work was done, hiring more workers each time, not because they sought the work, but because he found them standing idle and wanted to help them become productive.  He told the first group he would pay them a good day's wages.  In the end, when all the workers lined up to be paid, this vineyard owner paid every single worker a full day's wages, just as he had promised to the first group, who had worked all day long, since early morning.  These fellows were angry and grumbled about their wages, saying, "Those last guys you hired only worked one hour, but you have treated them as though they worked as hard as we did, we who have worked all day in the scorching heat!" (see Matthew 20:12)

In essence, the vineyard owner replied that he would be kind to whom he wanted to be kind, and the workers should have nothing to say about it.  Implicit in his response is a displeasure at their jealousy, and especially at their grumbling about what it was like to work all day on his estate.  The vineyard owner was a compassionate man.  He offered aimless loafers an opportunity to come into his vineyard and be a part of his team.  In every instance, he was the one who went out and invited the workers to come work for him; they did not apply to him for a job.  They were just loitering their day away.  He went out and found them, and offered them a position, productive work, and a paycheck.

This is what it is to be a part of God's kingdom.  Instead of wasting our lives in pursuit of vain, dead-ended, selfish pursuits, we can live for something bigger and better than ourselves.  We can know God and carry His Spirit within us.  We can grow in wisdom, learning more and more about what is eternally important.  We can experience the peace of living with faith that our destiny is going to be an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, so we can bear anything in the temporary, transient present.  All these gifts are ours in Him: purpose, wisdom, peace, hope and joy.  The longer we get to spend with Him, on His team, working for His kingdom, the more blessed we are.

It is an unfathomable privilege to be God's child, to live in fellowship with Him.  This is what we aim for, in heaven.  This is what our final reward will be.  On earth, we get a foretaste of God's amazing promise of eternity, through the lavish gift of His Holy Spirit, whom He literally, lovingly pours into our hearts.  Why would we ever be jealous of someone who had to live all of his life apart from this great gift, adrift and without direction or hope?  Why would we think that a lost sinner had some pleasure we should have had, if he spent his entire life living only for his own selfish, worthless indulgence and just barely had time to choose Jesus on his deathbed?  Would we not, if we were thinking rationally, realize that a life lived apart from the Lord is a tragedy, not a perk?

Another parable touches on this idea: The Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-31).  The prodigal son was like the thief on the cross.  He chose a life of sin and selfishness, rather than a life in his father's house.  Satan allowed the masquerade of hilarity to continue long enough for the prodigal son to be drawn far, far away from his home and his father who loved him dearly.  Then Satan did what Satan does: he pulled out the rug, smashed the 3-D glasses, and left the prodigal son lying prone in an ugly mess.  At this point, the Spirit of God moved in the heart of this unfortunate young man, humbled him, and woke him up to the truth: his father's household actually held everything he had always desired.  So, he traveled the long journey home, and his overjoyed father welcomed him with open arms, new clothes, a celebratory feast.  But do you remember what happened next?  The prodigal son's older brother got angry.  "Why?" the older brother demanded of his father, "why are you squandering all these resources on a party for this punk kid?  He spent his inheritance on prostitutes, and now you are throwing him a feast?"

We often fly past the father's first response. "Look dear son," he said gently, "you have always stayed by me, and everything I have is yours."  My dear child, you have been with me all this time, and I have been with you, and everything I have is yours.  This is our position as believers in Christ today.  Stop for a minute and think about it.

Another thing: Jesus shares everything with us so that we can share with others.  Everything I have is yours, He says.  He gives us everything, everything that pertains to life and godliness, through His divine power and precious promises, inviting us to be partakers of His divine nature.  The Lord transforms us into the image of Christ, the image of love and compassion.  He does this so we can be effective members of His team, working side by side with Him and with the brotherhood of believers, sharing our spiritual gifts for the incomparable pleasure of seeing God's kingdom unfold, for the glory of His name.  As we become more like Christ, we develop deeper and deeper compassion for those who squander the bulk of their lives on the futility of worldly pursuits, and we watch expectantly for God's redemption in whatever way He applies it.  We should never be jealous of someone who comes late to the kingdom.  If we are, we need to examine the faith we think we rest on, carefully, because true faith recognizes the privilege and joy of being united with God in His all-surpassing glory.

David Livingstone (1813-1873, Scottish missionary to Africa) and Hudson Taylor (1832-1905, British missionary to China) both poured their lives out to bring the gospel to people in far away places, giving up their familiar homes, extended families and financial security (among other things), but they both said with sincere confidence: "I never made a sacrifice."  They found true joy in living their lives for the Lord.

Jim Elliot (1927-1956, American missionary to Ecuador) was killed by the very people he was trying to reach with the good news of Christ.  Before he died, he had written, "He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."

FOMO?  What are you afraid of missing out on?  Are you afraid of missing out on worldly experiences that will stain your soul and leave you with regrets and scars?  Or are you afraid of missing out on time spent at the feet of Jesus, loving and being loved, being strengthened, grown and glorified?  Every day, you make choices that propel you to assuage one fear or the other.





[P.S. Think about that last paragraph the next time you find yourself musing on what it means to have "fear of the Lord."]