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.

How to memorize scripture

I have been memorizing scripture.  I had not done this since I was quite young, and I didn't think I could anymore, but I learned that I can, even after the ripe old age of 50!

I'd like to share the secret with you:

You can memorize scripture when the Lord Himself puts the scripture on your heart.

Don't try to memorize somebody else's list of recommended verses.  I'm sure they are very good Bible verses (of course they are, all scripture is beautiful and beneficial).  In fact, once you come up with your own list, you will almost undoubtedly find that it overlaps with other people's lists.  However, the words will go much more quickly and deeply into your heart if you find them, chew them and internalize them yourself while you commune with God, than if you try to catch a shortcut by using other people's lists.

There are no shortcuts.

I recently listened to a sermon by my favorite Bible teacher, Colin Smith.  Since we have to stay at home while the Coronavirus threatens, and since we had not settled into a church here before the plague descended, I can listen to Colin Smith guilt-free on Sunday mornings.  This past week, he literally preached my life's journey and moved me to tears.  One thing he said, sort of in passing, was that a mentor had taught him always to pray with an open Bible.  Admittedly, I do not always pray with an open Bible.  But when I have a deep need that I am bringing to the Lord, I have both prayed over a (now tear stained) Bible, and also printed out many (now ragged) pages of Bible verses to pray through.

Experiences like these plant scripture deep into one's heart.  As you return to the same verses, reading again and again about who God is and what He promises, the words become lodged in your mind.  You start to talk about them, to share them with others.  You may realize that you stumble a bit as you try to recall, so then you write the words out on a notecard and stack the notecards on your nightstand, handy for you to review and straighten in your memory.  These verses become your verses, the words God has spoken directly and specifically to you, for your needs.

You can memorize when God Himself puts the words into your heart, but the process begins when you go to meet with Him in His word.  For me, I started meeting with Him in His word in earnest when I hit a major crisis.  When I desperately ran to Him for help with a problem, He did not quickly solve the problem.  Instead, He spoke to me and taught me about truth, and hope, and faith.  He planted His word in me, and taught me to memorize when I thought it was far too late for a forgetful old mind like mine to learn new Bible verses.  He has given me gifts that have sustained me in many trials besides the original one that drove me into His arms.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
~James 1:2-4

How does God see us?

So many times, I've heard people teach this:

When God looks at you, He doesn't see your sin.  
All He sees is the righteousness of Jesus, covering you.

It has never settled well with me.  I am repulsed by the idea that God could somehow fail to see something that is true, even if it is my sins and shortcomings.

Just recently, I heard another famous, respected preacher say something about this, and I struggled.

God knows everything.

And no creature is hidden from His sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of Him to whom we must give account.   ~Hebrews 4:13

God knows everything.

Psalm 139 tells us that God has searched us and knows everything about us.  He sees everything we do, and knows everything we think.  Yes, He knows our thoughts.  In fact, He knows what we are going to say, before we even say it (presumably even when we do not, when unplanned words slide off our tongues like an avalanche of soiled laundry).

Isaiah 46:10 tells us that God makes known the end from the beginning, or (in other words) from the beginning, He declares what the end will be.

There's a clue there.  From the beginning, God knows the end.  This is in line with Psalm 139:4, which explains that He knows what we are going to say.

It isn't as though He "doesn't see" our sin.  God sees, knows and completely understands everything.

Being creatures who are locked in a time-space continuum, it is nearly impossible for us to imagine an existence outside the boundaries of time. Yet, by the grace of God, He has given us the ability to begin to conceptualize such a thing.  God is eternal, and He inhabits eternity, which means that He is eternally present in the past, present and future, all at once.  It's mind-blowing, but even so, He can move our minds to try to comprehend these kinds of things about His existence, factors completely outside our experience and framework.

God does not foretell the future.  He knows the future.

He knows the future by sight, by experience, because He is in the future, just as He is simultaneously in the present and the past.  Yes, He is present in each moment with us, but He is not limited to the present moment the way we are.  He is in every moment, and He is able to process everything that happens, right along with everything that will happen in the future, never forgetting all that has happened in the past.

In fact, He does not only perceive and process all that happens.  He authors and ordains all events.  Therefore, He not only knows by experience, but He knows by design.  Back to Isaiah 46:10-11, God says, "I will accomplish all my purpose.  I have spoken and I will bring it to pass.  I have purposed and I will do it."

God can proclaim these things because from where He stands, unbounded by time, it is already accomplished.  He is perfectly faithful, and perfectly trustworthy, because He is almighty and eternal.  God can make promises that are altogether certain, because in His realm, He sees them completed.  However, He is completely wise and kind, and He knows that we cannot see what He sees; we do not see the completion yet.  He knows that we are locked in our present moment, and He has astounding patience for us as we fret and squirm under the bonds of time, wondering if He will come through.

Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?  ~Matthew 14:31

In our experience, we wait and worry and wonder.  At the same time, God is contentedly full of peace and joy, because He sees the whole of time and space, history, geography, physics, chemistry, biology, sociology, psychology and philosophy in one, big gestalt creation that He has pronounced as very good.

This is amazing.

And God saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was very good.  And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day.  ~Genesis 1:31

The more I ponder this, the more I think we are still in the sixth day, and the sixth day is the climax of God's story, the part where the evil villain rises against God's good creation, and God prevails over this evil, through the powerful paradox of the cross of Christ, Christ--our eternal Hero and Rescuer.  Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior rises up in the sixth day to conquer sin and death forever.  It is very good, this epic plot that preceded all epic plots.  The best story.

And that would lead us to the Seventh Day, the day of rest.

The writer of Hebrews mysteriously alludes to this in chapter 4, speaking about certain faithless ones who will never enter God's rest on the seventh day.

The Seventh Day: God is already there, and Jesus rejoined the Father there after He completed His work of redemption.

The Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of His being, sustaining all things by His powerful word.  After He had provided purification for sins, He sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven. . . when This Priest had offered for all time one sacrifice for sins, He sat down at the right hand of God.  ~Hebrews 1:3, 10:12

Jesus mediated the New Covenant in His blood, and then He sat down and rested.  All who put their faith in Jesus will likewise rest.

There remains, then, a Sabbath rest for the people of God.  ~Hebrews 4:9

The Biblical writers could write about our anticipated Sabbath rest from the very first chapter of the Bible, because God, who knows the end from the beginning, was already there.  However, the mystery has unfolded over hundreds and thousands of years to the inhabitants of earth, and we have only gradually come to understand what it means that all of God's promises find their yes in Christ Jesus (2 Corinthians 1:20).  We will join our Lord in perfect fellowship for that glorious, eternal Seventh Day.  Until then, we practice every Sunday we can!

But this is about how God sees us, and what He sees when He looks at us, and whether our sin is hidden by the blood of Christ.

I think our sin is hidden by the blood of Christ, and God does see the glorious perfection of Christ when He looks at us.  But it is not as simple as a covering, or a lens, or a shield.  It is not about being covered by a veneer of perfection under which we continue to indulge in sin.

When God, who declares the end from the beginning right from the start, when this omniscient, eternal God looks at me, He sees the gestalt me.  He sees me as one being, with all my past, present and future, conglomerated into one, glorious, redeemed child who belongs to Him through the atoning sacrifice of Christ, purified and made righteous by His Spirit.

The Apostle John writes, "When He appears, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.  Everyone who has this hope in Him purifies himself, just as He is pure," (1 John 3:2).  And the Apostle Paul tells us that we are being transformed into the image of Christ from one degree of glory to another (2 Corinthians 3:18).

In our experience, this is a time-consuming process, sometimes an excruciatingly slow one.  But from God's point of view, it has already happened, ever since eternity past when He wrote our names in His Book of Life, when He predestined us for redemption through Christ before the creation of the world (1 Peter 1:20).

When God looks at us, He sees what we will be as though we already are, because He is not locked into this present moment with us.  Because His ultimate purpose is to perfectly conform us to the likeness of Christ, God even now sees Christ in us.  It's not an illusion or a disguise.  It's future reality.

When God looks at me, He sees what is absolutely true.  He sees the finished work of Christ made manifest in me, while He simultaneously sees my sin, my sorrow, my desperation for a Savior, and my present hope that the Holy Spirit is at work in me.  He sees my brokenness, and my restoration process, and my finished perfection by His power.  He sees His artistry and His therapy and His power and His completed purposes, all at once.  He is glorified because I belong to Him, which demonstrates both His goodness to me, and the all-surpassing glory of His grace.

You too.  He sees all these things when He looks at you, knowing that you are His, and you are responding to His grace exactly according to His plan.

Oh Lord, thank you for your sovereign power in our lives.  Lead us to consciously, purposefully rest our faith in you, as we find our rest in you, and we look forward to that seventh day of perfect rest.


Related:

The Eyes of God

Righteousness (part 1)

Righteousness (part 2)

Home time

When I travel to different time zones, I like to keep my watch on the time at home.

It is interesting to me that my phone, that modern affliction of constant information, automatically updates itself to whatever the local time may be.

My old-fashioned wristwatch needs old-fashioned attention which, if I decide to abstain from giving it, keeps the watch connected to whatever the time is back in my native time zone at home.

What a lovely feeling it is, to arrive back from a journey and have my wristwatch already set to the proper time, almost as if I'd never been away.

Ah, the joy of one's own home.

To be quiet at home: a book, a dog, a cup of tea, and a wristwatch in tune with the sun on your very own flower garden.

Limitations

Once in awhile I get bummed that I have lupus.

This is not a subject worth delving into.  It's just that I was thinking about my life the other day, wondering what I am good for, if anything I do is pleasing to God or helpful for His Kingdom.  There are things I wish I could do, that I cannot do.

The Lord reminded me of my first and second houses.

My first house was a little cape cod, built in 1930-something.  The previous owners had a very different aesthetic from mine.  We were young and our budget was limited.  Yet, I had a lot of fun trying to make that house cute.  The many parameters and design challenges were like puzzles to be solved, and every time I figured out a solution, it was an occasion of joy.  I am not a designer, and I was not on a quest to win a design award.  I only wanted to get rid of some bothersome aesthetic issues, and over the six years we lived there, I was (amazingly!) largely successful.  When we were ready to move to a bigger house, we called the realtor who had sold us our first house.  As she walked through it, she kept saying, "Wow.  Wow.  This doesn't even look like the same house.  This is amazing.  You guys have done an amazing job here."  We felt happy about our contribution, a deep sense of satisfaction.

Our second house was a two-story colonial, a brand new builder's model, all decked out in the lightest, brightest, most neutral options available.  We moved into room after room of white painted drywall and palest beige carpet.   It was, very literally, a blank canvas.  Within a six weeks, I had four littles.  Four littles, in a big, empty, white house.

As I tried to figure out ways to decorate that house, I made many mistakes.  When you start with a little old house full of crazy carpet and paint, it is easy to improve, because nearly anything you do looks better than what went before, and there is a certain inherent charm in the quirkiness of the place.  But when you start with a big, bare, generic, white-interiored house, it is easy to make a decision that doesn't look very good once it's implemented.

God showed me that if I had a perfect life, with unlimited energy and resources, it would be easy for me to mess up and regret how I had squandered my resources.

Having lupus limits me, but when I get something done, I know enough to be thankful.  My limits give shape and direction to my decisions.

It's okay.

It is going to be okay, and it is okay.

Goodness

People who don't believe in God say that they can be good without God.  They don't need God in order to be good.  They can work out their own good.  We, as cultures and societies, can be good without a God.

This is untrue.

People cannot be good if there is no definition of goodness.  They think they can define goodness themselves, without any divine standard.  It's a nice idea, but it fails in practice.  Even two people cannot agree on a standard of goodness between themselves, if it is up to them.  Certainly entire societies cannot do so.

Western civilizations place a high value on freedom, compassion, and the value of human life.  This is a lingering result from the permeating influence of Christianity, whether or not anyone will admit it.  Cultures that have never benefitted from the ethics of Christian belief, and cultures that have departed from these ethics, are cold, miserable places where the strong oppress the weak without conscience, and there is no recourse for seeking justice.  Contemporary western thought despises its Christian roots, often celebrating the intrinsic worth of "all cultures."  But all cultures are not equal in value and goodness.  No culture is perfect, but cultures with at least the sense to strive for liberty and justice certainly do better than those who do not.

We have a movie called, The Gods Must be Crazy, about some happy tribal people in Africa whose lives are upset when a Coke bottle falls into their midst from a plane flying overhead.  It is a whimsical, funny movie with a gentle feel to it.  The natives are happy, content and peaceful until the influence of the west upsets their balance, and eventually they return to their cheerful, charmed existence.  However, our DVD also contains some background footage of the project, film of the actual lives that the "actors" in the film lived, in their third world country.  We watched the movie with our kids and felt happy at the end of it.   We liked it so much, we started watching all the rest of the material on the DVD.  When we saw the seamy side, the things that had been airbrushed out of the story the movie told, we felt not only disappointed, but violated.  All was certainly not as it had originally seemed.

In the west, we have so ingrained an idea of what our rights are (life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, right?), and what sort of justice we "deserve," that sometimes our kids go off to countries on the other side of the world, break the rules, and are shocked when they receive a harsh punishment.  Sometimes they even die, and their outraged parents try to sue the foreign government, apparently not realizing that when you aren't in your own country, you can't insist on people respecting your country's values.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights . . ." says our Declaration of Independence.  And people don't realize--godless people do not realize that when you erase the Creator from the sentence, the truths are no longer self-evident, and there is no reason to believe that people are equal anymore.  It becomes about the survival of the fittest, the strongest, the richest, the most clever and the most heavily armed.  So, watch your back.

Whenever people think they have the right to define what is good and what is bad, they literally think, "I have the right to define what is good and what is bad."  We are so inherently selfish and prideful, we always think, "I am the one who is right.  I am the one who will be offended if it doesn't go my way.  I am the one who must not be offended, because I am the one who is right."

Essentially, we all insist on our own way, and we live at an impasse with others.

This is at the root of the sin Adam and Eve committed in the garden of Eden.  What's so bad about eating a bite of fruit?  Nothing, on the surface.  The bad part is that they insisted on their own way, declared their independence from God's standard of righteousness.  In essence, they said, "You can't tell us what to do, God.  You can't tell us what is right and what is wrong.  We will decide for ourselves what is right and what is wrong.  We know best what is right for us."

Satan had told them, "If you eat the fruit, you will become like God, knowing right from wrong."  Such clever words, just a few degrees off from the truth.  He would have spoken truth if he had said, "If you eat the fruit, you will be usurping God's rightful position as judge, and although you will not have the wisdom to know right from wrong, you will insist on trying to define right and wrong, forever after."

This is the human problem.  Heinous crimes are committed and we are shocked again and again, but we should not be.  People do evil because they are hopelessly lost in selfishness and foolishness, because they want what they want, without regard for God or the best interests of others.  There is no natural humility in us, no true concern for the interests of others--at least not if the interests of others will cost us anything.  This is the result of the curse of Adam.  Additionally, we have no wisdom to help us mitigate our selfish impulses.  Some people have a farther reaching view of their own best good than others.  Some people will tell the truth or refrain from stealing from you, or even be kind to you, because they realize that it is in their best interest to do so in a particular situation.  Others operate at a base level of animalistic greed.  But everyone works for his own personal best interests, until the Lord gets ahold of him and the Spirit of God changes his heart.

We have turned--every one--to his own way.  Isaiah 53:6

In those days there was no king in Israel.  Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.  Judges 21:25

If every person on this earth considers himself (or herself) to be the center of the universe, the one true hero, the most deserving of consideration, then there will never be any peace.  If there is no God, and we believe that each one of us has the right to decide what is right and best for us, there will be constant conflict and competition.  You see, when we adopt this mindset, we are all trying to be "god."  Billions of little, selfish gods spread across the globe, we compete for the chance to call the shots, when none of us is remotely qualified for this role.

It is only when we surrender to God as the rightful authority over the Universe that we find peace and harmony.  He is the Creator who knows how it works, and He is the only one who truly knows how to love.

God demonstrated His love for us in this: while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
~Romans 5:8

Jesus, the very Son of God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but emptied Himself of His divine glory, took on mortal flesh, and humbled Himself to death on a cross.
~Philippians 2

God loves us, and He is the only one we can trust.  He is the only one who knows what our best interests are.  He is the only one who has the power and the lovingkindness to help us achieve them.  He is the only one who could and would sacrifice His own blood to provide us with hope, peace and joy.  He is the only one wise enough and sovereign enough to repair the universe for the benefit of all who will cooperate with Him.

I think it is safe to say that His promise goes something like this:  All Creation is broken by sin because of rebellion, but I am working to repair and restore it.  I am both able and willing to do this for you.  All you have to do is come to me and trust me.  Work with me, believing that I have your best in mind, and let my Spirit work in you.  Sometimes it will be hard, because there is trouble in this world, and I am not going to destroy my original creation just yet.  I am waiting to gather in all who will come to me, and that means I am letting this broken creation continue for longer than you will find comfortable.  But believe me, trust me.  In the end, it will be worth far more than any affliction you face in this age.  I have prepared for you an eternity that is far more wonderful than anything you could ever ask or imagine.  Come to me.  Trust me.  Cooperate with me.  Obey me.  I am working for your good.

God is the only completely unselfish being.  This is what the Bible means when it says that Jesus is humble (Philippians 2:8, Matthew 11:29).  He is completely unselfish, and wants only the best for us.  His desire is to share His glory with us.  He sacrificed Himself so we could become partakers of goodness and light and life.  Therefore, in our quest to find a standard of goodness--which we mortal, flawed humans obviously can never agree upon among ourselves--we discover that only God can be trusted to provide the standard that miraculously, by His grace, benefits all creation.

There is no good apart from God, only selfishness and conflict.

But God is good.  His love and faithfulness endure forever.

If you reject Him, He will give you opportunity after opportunity to change your mind and come back.  But if you continue to refuse to listen, to refuse to come, to refuse to let Him heal your spiritual sight so you can see the light of His glorious face, in the end He will give you what you want.  In the end, if you insist on your own way, He will give you your own way.  He will turn you loose to run into the abyss of darkness that you in your independence think you crave.

Bitter cold

It is the last day of January, and I think about how the compassion of God must have influenced our calendar, that the passage of the first month of the year is such a marked blessing and relief.

We've been setting records for cold, apparently, although the winter of 1996 was at least this cold, when we went to Minnesota for Shawn's sister Wendy's wedding.  My memory is that it was -50, with windchills of -80 that year, and it made me almost thankful that we had moved to New York.

Five years ago, our first winter here, it was cold enough to freeze the drainpipes from our washing machine, and when my wash load went to spin out, water flooded into the laundry room, channeled down the heat vent, and pooled in a duct in our storage crawl space, where it seeped out onto the things we had stacked on the shelves, mostly in plastic bins, so the actual damage was minimal.

At any rate, I haven't been brave enough to wash any laundry for the past few days, which is unfortunate, because there is an accumulating pile of old towels, soiled because of the sad fact that our small dog does not like to go outdoors in these arctic temperatures.  Currently, he is crying in his crate, but he has proven himself untrustworthy, and I am tired.

[aside-- Here's a random question:  Why are weeks seven days long?  Our entire number system is based on fives and tens, because of the number of fingers and toes we have (presumably).  Yet our calendars and clocks are based on sevens and twelves, Biblical numbers.  I wonder about that.  It seems to lend credence to the truth of the Bible, the seven days of creation that started everything.  Not that I need convincing, but for those who do, it is a point worth pondering, I think.]

The night before last was the record setter for central Illinois.  I think it was about -25 degrees, with a roaring wind that must have lowered the felt temperature considerably further.  Throughout the night, I heard the wind howling, and the house cracking, which was more alarming than the wind.  I'm not sure what, exactly, was cracking, but there were ongoing creaks and pops and groans, punctuated with a sharp, shuddering crack every now and again.  Nonetheless, the structure still stands.  I've taken to bumping the heat up to 72 in the evenings; I guess I'm old enough for that now.

Yesterday I had a skin excision, which was more invasive than I'd expected, and that's all I will say about that.  It's nothing to worry about, except that the bills will be significant, and probably also the scar.  Heaven will be free from bills and scars, and for that I am thankful.

After the excision, I went to Walmart to stock up on bandages and petroleum jelly for wound care.  Since it was so cold, I decided to take the opportunity of being in a large store to walk a few laps (it is not weather for exercising outdoors).  After walking as much as I dared, fearing that someone would mark me as a lunatic the third time they saw me whirl my cart through Automotive, I went to check out.  As I made ready to scan my items through the self-check, I realized that I had lost one of my gloves.

So, I circled the store yet again, searching without much hope, just a vague sense of annoyance and a dread at going outside with one bare hand.  Miraculously, though, I found my glove on the floor in the wide aisle between Grocery and Women's Fashion, in front of a display of icy pink velour ladies' pajama pants.  It was a dark glove, the kind that I always lose, not one of my pink striped ones, which I ought to have worn.

All this happened before the novocaine wore off from my excision.  I picked up Jon and brought him home for dinner, which was a sausage and potato soup that I made up out of my imagination, and it was good, as things usually are when the stakes are fairly low.  After we delivered Jon to work the night shift at FedEx, I was resting on the sofa when small Duffy pranced across my belly, planting a tiny paw directly on my incision site, through layers of clothing and bandages, of course, but still.  It's been hurting pretty significantly ever since, although I slept decently last night, and did not hear the wind howl, whether or not it did.

I'm sorry that this is a worthless post, just stupid, simple things from my completely unexceptional life.  I am finally now coming to terms with the fact that I am, indeed, unexceptional, and it is okay, even good, to be unexceptional.  It is a protection to have the privacy of insignificance, a blessing.  Yet, I hope that in my ordinariness I can somehow be pleasing to the Lord, to radiate His love where He wants me to.  I am so afraid of people.  The Lord needs to teach me to love my neighbor.

Wow.  Looking back at that last paragraph, I see God's hand, because I can identify that, in letting myself go to "stream of consciousness," He has guided me to a beginning of work on my words for the year: Humility, Love and Acceptance.  You may choose to believe that I did this on purpose, but all I can say is that I didn't.

Accepting what He has created me to be and to do, and learning to love the people in my sphere of influence.  This is my job.  May God help me.

Falling

Shady, rustling, green overhead,

at the tip of a branch, a flicker of red.

Laughing and careless, not looking ahead,

Eat, drink and be merry, is what they all said.

So they played and worked and risked and splashed,

they earned and spent, they cried, they crashed.

Some of them lingering, some of them gone,

and the ones who were left wondered how to go on. 

The leaves on the trees turned to colors of flame

As everyone realized life isn’t a game.

Some gain it all and discover thin air,

some attain nothing and faint in despair,

while everyone wonders if anything’s fair.

Why, we ask, when we cannot see,

and the leaf at the end of the branch of the tree

falls, but not down, as the wind blows free,

its dance through the sky is a mystery.

The depth of the sorrow, the height of the pain,

is something we never could clearly explain.

The world is broken—we cannot repair it,

the burden is crushing, with whom can we share it?

God knows how brokenness dampens our eyes,

He cares for us deeply—He does sympathize,

despising the damage, the wounds and frustration,

results of the curse that has ravaged Creation.

Thus He entered our mess in the form of a man,

tasted our troubles in full, so He can

completely relate to the anguish we face—

He sees us, He loves us, He offers His grace

through Christ who astoundingly died in our place.

Immortal, He died, but how can it be so,

The Source of Life buried with death down below?

We can’t understand, but in faith we believe,

He died and He rose so that we can receive

Life—mortal souls gain eternal reprieve.

Green leaves turn crimson and orange and gold,

then fall to the ground as the air becomes cold.

Bare branches spread their frail twigs like black lace,

between them the stars flicker starlight from space,

and secretly, quietly, God pours out grace.

The trees will again bear new leaves and new life,

and one day we all might find freedom from strife,

because of a tree that was stained with His blood.

Flowing red was the color of hope, peace and love,

falling down from the heart of our Father above.

(I wrote this poem as a favor for a friend.  It came together yesterday.)

Is life eluding me, or am I eluding life?

Yesterday I finally went for a walk again.  Still alive, eh?

The temperature was -15 for a painful string of days.  I don't like this kind of cold.  My friend and I walked at the mall.  I'm officially old now, I guess: a mallwalker.  In my defense, I never did like being outside when it was cold.  I hated walking to school as a child, my fingers and toes aching with chill.

During elementary school, one year I had a teacher who assigned extremely lengthy handwriting practice drills.  I think he wanted us to copy over the page in the handwriting book about 30 times, or possibly more.  To me, that was simply unthinkable.  Although I was, in general, a compliant student, the overwhelmedness I felt as I stared down those vast handwriting assignments was paralyzing.  I could not make myself dig in and do so many repetitions.  Upon failing to complete the work, I was at first tremulous and fearful about what consequence I would face. 

However, I discovered that the consequence was to stay indoors at recess time.  Yes.  Staying indoors during recess was the consequence.

Since this was winter in Minnesota, I could barely believe my good fortune.  I had found a way to escape the bitter cold winds on the playground, the awkwardness of trying to find a social circle to fit into, the boredom of waiting for a turn on a swing, the violence of playground rugby matches, the humiliation of being unathletic, the hard work of suiting up in winter outerwear before going out, and the snow-melting sogginess of coming in and stripping off winter outerwear amidst a crush of other children all pushing for space and a dry place to step whilst transitioning from boots to shoes.  I sat at my desk in my classroom, free-drawing, creative writing, laughing and joking with the other rebels who also had their recess privileges revoked.  We were warm.  We were happy.  We were even unsupervised.  And our socks were dry.

I never did a handwriting assignment again.

This is just to assuage my fear that I am getting old because I walk at the mall and not outside.  Honestly, no sane person would walk outside on slick, snowy roads in -15 degrees.

I am only halfway south.  I lived in Minnesota for 22 years and in New York for 25 years.  Then I moved south to central Illinois, but clearly, this year is proving that I have not moved far enough south.

These days are so weird, these present days.  Lupus saps my energy, but I have very little to do.  I read my Bible and pray about the things that worry me.  I complete my lessons for Bible Study Fellowship (BSF).  I try to write, but lack energy and inspiration.  I take the dog out, make the bed, usually make dinner.  I shop for groceries and do laundry.  I go for walks and shoot texts to my kids in hopes of a response.  I scrub lime off bathroom faucets and try to get spots out of the carpet here and there.  I search the internet for answers to random questions that arise in my mind, but I'm getting gun-shy about that, because I can tell someone is tracking my rabbit trails, based on targeted advertisements I later receive.

One thing is certain.  I am not busy.  Nope.  Not busy.  This is not a busy season.  It has been a season of listening and seeking, and trying to be patient, trying to trust God that He does have a plan for my life.  Also, it's a time of trying not to let my bewilderment about what to do with myself result in inappropriate meddling.  I think I wish I had a job to do, but I'm afraid to say so.  Probably, I'm afraid I'll be given a job I don't like.  Perhaps God is waiting for me to come to the point where I want a job so badly, I won't complain about what job I get, I'll just be thankful.  It's nice to be thankful.

Today it is 15 degrees above zero, rather than 15 degrees below zero.  This is a definite improvement, although it comes with a flurry of snowflakes (not a ton of them, but enough to make the air blurry outside my windows, and turn the blue sky a dull white).

Shawn works at home in the mornings.  He gets up and feeds the dog and makes coffee, bringing two mugs up to the bedroom where we sit sipping together while he takes stock of his upcoming day and answers the emails that have come in during the night.  Then he goes into his study and works for a few hours while I bomb around looking for something meaningful to do.  Just before lunchtime, he packs up his computer and a sandwich so he can leave, and I say, "Don't forget to come home, 'kay?"  And then I am alone and ought to write my novel, except that it died inside me about five years ago, give or take two or three years.

Darkness falls so early these days.  We're past the winter solstice, so the days should be lengthening, but they are still remarkably short.  It makes me wonder what kind of time I have left, time to do something with my life, time to love my kids, time to make a difference.

I should pack up Christmas, but it's still nice to be able to turn the tree lights on at 4:00 when the sun goes away.

Very personal memories of God

God has graciously drawn me since I was very young.

I do not know why.

Why does He draw someone?  And why does someone else struggle so, to hear and to believe?

One of my first memories is of being a small baby, and being carried to my crib.  I did not want to be put into my crib, this I know.  I remember the feeling of dread, how I clung to the adult but was peeled off and placed in the barred crib despite my most passionate protests.  I remember remembering the horror of the ongoing routine of screaming and crying for someone to come back and get me, but nobody coming.  I remember the soft crunch of a plastic mattress liner under the sheet over the crib mattress, and the taste of the varnish on the wood of the crib.  I vividly remember the hot scratchiness of the screams that tore my throat, and the strain of clutching the crib rail, pulling myself up, striving, straining, flexing every muscle in panicked fury until I was in veritable pain.  And I remember a calm voice that spoke to me, although perhaps not in words, because I don't think I was verbal.  Maybe it was just an idea that washed over me from Someone outside of me.  "You don't have to fight," this Presence told me.  "It's okay.  You can just lie down.  It doesn't have to be like this."  I remember lying down, gently, almost as if an angel slipped me into a new position with comforting hands.  I clearly remember a comforting warmth that spread over me as I let go of my angst, my striving.  My tempest melted away in a blanket of warmth, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up to happy parents.

You may not believe it, but I remember this.  Somehow, I've always known it was God there that day, telling me, "You can just lie down.  It doesn't have to be like this."

I remember a day when, as a school-aged child, I sat cross-legged on the floor in the living room in front of the oak bookshelves that surrounded the descending staircase.  Green carpet, oak shelves, the World Book Encyclopedia volumes bound in black and white leather, the set of beloved Childcraft books.  I sat in that spot often, considering what to read next.  But that particular day, I felt the presence of God, and I wondered why I was so blessed.  Why did I have a nice, solid house and nice, clean clothes and good food to eat, when the world was full of suffering, starving people? Why did I get to go to church and learn about Jesus, when people all around the world had never heard of Him?  Why did I have a mom and dad who taught me about God?  Why did I have a bookshelf right in front of me with numerous Bibles in various translations at my fingertips?  Why indeed?  I thought of the maps inside the pages of the volumes of the encyclopedia, and I imagined all the distant places and people groups they represented, and I thought about the largeness of the world, even the Universe.  In those moments, the Spirit of God was doing something in me, opening my mind to a vastness beyond myself.  Not that I understood it, but I was aware of it.  I pondered the Universe, and how I was so small within it, and yet so inexplicably blessed.

I remember being a bit older, a young teenager, walking home from school with friends.  I was sharing about something that had happened, something I didn't like.  I don't remember the particulars, but it had to do with authority and punishment, and I was upset.  The others listened sympathetically.  They were kind to me.  Supportive.  "That isn't fair at all," they said.  "You don't have to accept that."  They admonished me to fight, to resist, to rebel.  It felt good.  I felt validated.  And then, suddenly, I realized the hollowness of it.  Although I do not remember the exact subject, the words, the details of the situation, I remember a sudden awareness that it was wrong.  I remember, accompanying the awareness, the curving slope of the green autumn grass down to the road (if you know Anoka, it was Green Street).  This part of the memory is as clear as the day it happened.  That Presence--the one that had been there since I was a baby--was suddenly in me again, and although the words of my friends had been soothing and affirming, I knew that I could not listen to them, that they were not right.  I had a fleeting thought about how it was a shame that I couldn't go on being validated, there on the green, grassy lawn.  The regret was followed by a chilling sensation as I understood how strong the temptation was to believe a lie.  I don't remember what happened afterwards, in my physical life, with the people.  I don't remember how the conversation may have closed.  All I know is that God was there, and He pointed me away from the alluring validation of my sin, from words and ideas that seemed so appealing, but were not true.  They simply were not true.

Those are three specific, memorable times when God communicated with me as a child.  To this day, I do not know why He did.

Why should I be blessed to be able to sense God's presence and respond to Him?  Why should I be blessed to love His Word, and through His Word, Him?  Oh, dear Lord, may others have this blessing.  Please open hearts, as I know you can, as only you can.

What's the matter?

People are hurting.

This world is a savage place, ripping souls and sending them forth to hemorrhage all over other broken hearts.

Children are cruel.  Youths are ruthless.

Adults may be better at hiding their daggers, while still using them.

Sometimes I just want to scream, "What is wrong with people?"  Why do families prey on their own offspring?  Why do children turn on their own parents?

We see it, you know, when a father pimps out his daughter, or a mother steals her child's psych medicine for her own recreation.  The gross selfishness is repulsive, nauseating.  The perverted personal indulgences make us cringe and gag.  We see it so clearly in the microcosm of a small family system.  We are horrified when a 20-year-old college student, whose father died in a tragic accident years earlier, goes home from school one day and kills his mother with a knife.

But on the larger scale, we all belong to the family of humanity, yet we prey on one another in ways we never even consider, those of us who think we are good, who still live selfishly: grabbing, hoarding, amassing, gloating, flaunting, rationalizing.

It isn't safe to live unselfishly.  It is reckless to give away our treasure to those who will not treasure it, who will use it for a short time, and then cast it on the rubbish heap.  Us and them, and we're all so flawed, so wounded, so selfish and afraid.

Yet, there is beauty.  God does not leave us without a remnant of His beauty.

Venus, the morning star, shining radiantly before
sunrise,
crescendoing birdsong,
dewy grass,
newly opened flowers,
blue sky,
cumulus clouds (glorious creamy dollops),
clean air,
shadows and dappled light,
forests of grand, quiet trees,
river stones,
the warmth of a young dog,
tiny eggs in a nest,
golden honey,
ripe fruit,
refreshing waterfalls,
snowy mountains,
vast oceans,
solar eclipses.

No wonder it's healing to escape into nature.  Immerse yourself in God's creation. He will heal you there, away from humanity and its byproducts, be they factories, fast food wrappers blowing down the street, or fractured bones from a domestic dispute.

Watch a butterfly on a coneflower and let the Lord restore your soul.

There is no answer in fretting, in anger, in taking offense, in being offended.

The most egregious aggressors harbor the most deeply damaged souls.

The only answer is to hold out grace, to give at great cost, to make ridiculous sacrifices.

The only answer is to do what Jesus did for us, and lay down our lives for others.

But it's terrifying, full of risk.  It will hurt.  They might not appreciate our gifts.

No.  They might not appreciate us.  In fact, they probably won't.

But they might, and if they do, it will make the world a different, better place.  A place of grace, which is the only way.

They might not appreciate us, but Jesus appreciates every cup of cold water offered in His name.  He is the one we serve.

We serve the gracious one.  He sees, and He loves us.

If God is for us, who can stand against us?

Dear Lord, please pour your Holy Spirit into us so we can spread your grace throughout the world.  Fill us.  Overflow from us.  Teach us how to heal by the power of your love.

Your kingdom come, your will be done.

Give us this day our daily bread

Being gluten free, I struggle to find affordable bread that I like.

Gluten free cornbread is more like normal cornbread

than most gluten free bread is like normal bread.

Bread nourishes.
It fills our mouths and our bellies.
"Filler," I've heard it called.
Bread lacks the protein of meat
and the vitamins of fruits and vegetables,
but it is packed with consolation.

Indeed, what is better
than a hunk of crusty fresh bread,
hot, tender in the middle and crisp of crust,
slathered with butter, melting--
or dipped into savory soup broth--
or sopping up a delicious marinara sauce
from the bottom of the plate?

Bread fills us, comforts us, and keeps us going.
It is gentle, settling to the stomach,
a buffer for acidic foods.
Toasted, with tea,
bread can be almost medicinal.

Jesus says that He is the Bread of Life.
He fills us, comforts us, sustains us.
He heals and feeds.
In love, He offered Himself for our benefit,
--a baby in a feeding trough--
that through the consumption of Christ
we would find life and fullness of joy.
(John 6:32-58)

Jesus promised that He would not leave us as orphans,
but that He would come to us,
that we would be in Him,
as He is in His Father,
and He would be in us.
(John 14:18-20)

Jesus is in us.
Like a lovely, thick slice of bread filling a formerly hungry stomach.

Give us this day our daily bread.

He fills us by His Spirit.

"I am the Lord your God
who brought you out of Egypt," He says,
"Open wide your mouth and I will fill it."
(Psalm 81:10)

"If you know how to give good gifts of fish and eggs to your children,
how much more will I give the Holy Spirit to those who ask,"
He says.
(Luke 11:11-13)

The Holy Spirit is Christ in us, the hope of glory.
(Colossians 1:27)

Something about this temporal life
forces the need for constant refilling.
Physically, we need to eat every day.
Spiritually, we need the Holy Spirit every day.
I do not exactly understand this.
Faith brings believers into the new birth of spiritual life
just as birth brings a baby into physical life.
But as a baby needs food to live and grow,
so we need the Holy Spirit, daily,
for our spiritual life and development.

Daily, we need to come into His presence,
feast on the scripture He illuminates for us,
remember the gospel story, remember hope.
In remembering hope, we grow in gratitude--
for life, for love, for forgiveness,
for His great salvation and His gentle compassion.
Hope leads to gratitude which leads to joy
which leads to confidence and power.
The power of the Holy Spirit.
The fuel of the Bread of Life.

Daily, we pray that God, our source of hope,
will fill us with His peace and joy
because we trust in Him--
and then we begin to overflow with confident hope
by the power of the Holy Spirit.
(Romans 15:13)

Jesus, the Bread of Life,
in us by His Holy Spirit
which He pours out on us,
filling us.

Jesus, let us find joy in each new day.
Fill us with your Spirit, fill us with the bread of life.
Sustain us with your joy, which gives us strength.
Let us walk in step with your Spirit today, strong and confident.

Give us this day our daily bread.

This post is a sequel to this post.

Purifying toxicity.

I've noticed a trend on social media: link after link to articles about purging the toxic people from your life.

The gist of the message is this:  You are important.  You are good.  You are too good and important to be weighed down by toxic people in your life.  So do yourself a favor and flush them away.  You deserve it!

Can I just point out?  This is entirely anti-Christian.  It makes me sad.

People.  Guys.  Please hear me.

We are all toxic.

We are all toxic.

It is only pride and self-righteousness that cause a person to think that the others are the toxic ones, and he, himself, is fine.  Remember Matthew 7:3-5, about taking the plank out of our own eye before we attack the splinter in our brother's eye?

Now, I'm not talking about abusive people.  There is a point at which people's sin can become dangerous to others, and when you are in a relationship with a dangerous, abusive person, it is good to set boundaries which will protect you and hopefully help the other person come to his senses.  I'm not talking about danger and abuse.  Notice: danger and abuse are not the terminology that is in popular use here.  The popular terminology is "toxic," which sounds really bad, but I warrant it might be a bit of a hyperbole, a ploy to gain credibility for actions that are selfish and prideful.

Also, be careful, because abuse is a term that we overuse these days.  You should not call it abuse--emotional abuse, verbal abuse--every time you have a disagreement with someone, ending up with an unsatisfying conclusion that hurts your feelings.  Did the other person label you as something you didn't like?  Are you tempted to call that abuse?  Can you honestly say that you've never labeled someone as something that he might not have liked?  Did you just call him an abuser?  But that was okay... why?  Because it was you, and you are a "good" person, and he shouldn't hurt your feelings?  Sorry.  No.  We all have disagreements, and we all slip and speak unkindly at certain times, particularly when we are feeling defensive.

The whole world is toxic.

We all need grace.

We all need to give grace.

The whole world is toxic, but for the purifying love of Jesus.

He's been hounding me about this, Jesus has.

It started about three years ago.  I was studying Matthew, which is the gospel that focuses most on Jesus as the fulfillment of the Law.  Matthew 5:18 tells us that Jesus came to fulfill every jot and tiddle of the Law, perfectly, so He would qualify as the perfect sacrifice to purchase our forgiveness.  Jesus loved and respected His Father's Law.  He came to complete it, not to undo it.

Yet, just a few pages further along, we read in Matthew 8 about how a leper came to Jesus for healing.  Jesus reached out, touched him (Matthew 8:3), and made him well.  Now, this is a beautiful, compassionate miracle.  However, it seems in direct opposition to what the Law says.  The Law warns that lepers are unclean and need to stay away from the people, outside the camp.  Lepers were not to be touched.

I cogitated on this for awhile.  Did Jesus disobey the Law, and sin?  I came to a realization.  God gave the Law for the people's protection.  The Law showed Israel how to live as safely and prosperously as possible in a sin-defiled world.  God taught His beloved people to recognize and avoid unclean things that could lead to sickness and death in their society.  He provided regulations for dealing with infectious diseases and biohazards.

It was all for their protection, but Jesus did not need any protection.

Jesus was God in human form, but fully God, with all the purifying power of the love of God surging through His flesh.  Jesus did not need protection from diseases.  Jesus was the healer!  When Jesus touched the leper, there was no risk that He would contract leprosy.  When Jesus touched the leper, He eradicated the leprosy.

This is beautiful.

The theme keeps recurring again and again.  In May, in Ohio, I heard a sermon on how Jesus healed Jairus' daughter and the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years.  Jesus had contact with a ceremonially unclean woman and a dead girl's body, abominations.  He touched what should not have been touched, and the result was healing, restoration, resurrection.

Two weeks ago, we studied the Gospel of Luke with Michael Card for a week.  I was about bowled over by how this precious gospel shows Jesus getting his hands dirty again and again, always with a triumphant result.  Fevers, leprosy, death, blood, prostitutes and demoniacs.  Jesus forges right on into each messy situation, bringing glorious healing and relief.  Michael Card calls it "reversing the flow."  I love that.

Jesus reverses the flow of corruption.  The ordinary flow says that if you touch something dirty, you become defiled (Haggai 2:12-13).  But where Jesus goes, when He touches something dirty, He purifies it (Zechariah 3:4-9).  This is a miracle.

A miracle.

But wait, there's more!

Jesus lives in us, through His Holy Spirit.  Christ in you the Hope of Glory (Colossians 1:27).  Christ in us, in me, in you.  Christ dwells in our hearts (Ephesians 3:17), and He strengthens us with power through His Spirit in our inner being (Ephesians 3:16).  Jesus did not leave us as orphans when He went back to heaven.  He sent His Holy Spirit.  Through this precious Spirit, Jesus, who lives in God, also lives in us, and we live in Jesus (John 14:18-20).

In John 15, Jesus gave us a picture story to help us understand.  Jesus is the vine, and we are the branches.  We are one organism with Christ, rooted and established in Him through faith (Colossians 2:6-7).  Jesus actually somehow forms the link, the bridge, the ladder between us and God the Father.  The Living Water of the Spirit of God flows from God into us because of the connection through the trunk that is Christ.

I do not exactly understand this, because it is spiritual truth and all of our physical analogies are imperfect.  I do not understand it completely, but I understand this much: the Spirit of Jesus lives in me, and because He does, I too can contribute to the coming of the Kingdom of God by reversing the flow.

By the Spirit of God in me, I can love.  I can speak peace.  I can walk in joy and thanksgiving.  I can bring hope where there was despair.  When I do these things, I produce fruit and medicinal leaves for the nourishment and healing of the nations (Ezekiel 47:6-12, Revelation 22:1-2).  I can get my hands dirty without fear of contamination.  I can walk in the power of God, bringing purification and healing to this battered world.

Satan doesn't want us to know this.  Satan wants us to live in fear of contamination.  Satan wants us to hide our lights under buckets.  Satan wants us to think that we are clean, better than others, but tenuously so, and insulate ourselves from "toxic" people.

Jesus has so much more for us.  Jesus came to give sight to the blind, to make the deaf hear and the lame walk, to set the captives free.

Jesus left us with the indwelling power of His Holy Spirit so we can continue the work.

Oh, dear ones, may that same sweet Holy Spirit grant us understanding, power and courage to go forth.  May the Lord God trample Satan under our feet (Psalm 60:12).  May we walk in victory, today, and may His Kingdom come!