A Work Day

I work in our church office as a secretary.  Being a church, we get a LOT of people who come in off the street, looking for help of any kind. I hate to admit this, but usually I figure someone is lying, or they're trying to fool me so they can just get "more".  The stories are often very much the same. Ultimately, they're just looking for money.

I've been convicted a lot about my attitude regarding people who come in looking for money. Oh, the people might not all be on the up-and-up. They might not all be 100% truthful and honest. But, I've also seen that it's not my job to be the jury -- you know, the one who decides if what I'm hearing is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. That's God's job. My job? It's to love folks, regardless of how they look or smell, how they act or speak, whether I feel like they're deserving or not. The only thing that I'm responsible for is to show them Jesus.

Today, there was a young woman who was waiting at our closed and locked doors before the work day even began. She was carrying 3 plastic bags of clothes. No car. No cell phone. Her husband had kicked her out of the house and she had recently lost custody of her school-age daughter. The night before, she had slept in a field by our church.Yes, there had been some horribly wrong choices that she had made in her life journey ... and the time for reckoning seemed to be looming. She wept. She mourned. And my heart was drawn to hers.

We made some phone calls to see if there was a place she could stay. We talked and I shared with her that when we hit bottom, it's God's way of calling to us. It's actually a mercy, a salvation for us after our choices have done their destruction. He calls us to turn to Him for His saving. I've hit bottom before. I've had God open my eyes to who He is when I was feeling hopeless and helpless. I begged her: "When we're at the bottom, there's only one way to go ... and that's up, especially if we look to Jesus. Look up! Don't waste this time!"

She appeared to listen. But as time went on, I could see that she didn't particularly want my help -- not in the way I was offering it. She never asked for money though. Never asked for anything really -- other than to use the restroom to clean up and to use the phone to maybe find some shelters. She was impatient to leave. Her mind was whirling with all of the ways that she could control this situation and make it better. Before she left, I asked if I could pray for her and she told me yes, that it would probably make her feel better. I stood next to her and gently put my hand on her arm. She smiled at me, and I began to pray.

As soon as I opened my mouth to talk with our Father in prayer, she stiffened. I peeked at her and could see her hands had contorted in to something resembling claws that dug in to her legs. I continued praying, but she wasn't able to stand there with me. She apologized and began walking away, gathering up her plastic bags full of clothes, telling me she couldn't be here. She thanked me for being so kind, and walked off toward the road -- homeless and alone.

And I knew.

I knew that she had made some horrendous choices, all the while probably receiving some encouragement and help from the enemy. There's nothing he wants more than to ruin and destroy the people that God loves so very much. Sometimes, the enemy succeeds ... because we give him permission. Sometimes the enemy succeeds ... because His people don't stop to hear His voice. They want to be the jury and decide who is worth the salvation.

My prayer for her is that she will know and recognize that God is what she needs. My prayer for me was that this heart of mine, which can so often be mistrusting and skeptical, was a picture of the heart of Jesus today -- soft, welcoming, loving, accepting. So often I fail at that. My longing is for my heart to be like His.

Today, if you're reading this, please pray for Stacie (not her real name). Pray that she will come to know and understand how wide, how long, how high and how deep God's love is for her. Pray that she'll recognize the lies she is holding on to, and that she will let Jesus love her.

There's hope ... because there's Jesus.

Isaiah 64

One of my favorite books of the Bible is Isaiah. I have many favorites, but this one is definitely at the top of my list. Such hope! So many wonderful promises! Such encouragement! Because it's absolutely so wonderful, I want to share a little from one of the chapters that I've just read.

"Oh that You would rend the heavens and come down!" (Isaiah 64:1a)

Does that sound familiar to you? Have you ever cried out for God to come down and rescue you from a set of circumstances that are threatening to overwhelm you? Or is that just me? I read the beginning words to this chapter and immediately was hooked. Isaiah shouts out the very words that I myself have cried at times.

I've learned over the years that often I'm crying out for rescue because I just don't like the pain of where I am. It's not killing me ... although it may feel like it. I just want to be rescued. I don't want to  learn. I don't want to grow. I just want to feel better. Yet, my God is in control. Because I know that to be true, I can also know that I am where I am for a reason, for a season, for a purpose. 

"From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear,

no eye has seen a God besides You,

Who acts for those who wait for Him." (Isaiah 64:4)

This is a promise! Our God acts for those who wait for Him. The interesting thing is that in the Hebrew, the word "wait" is closely related to the word for "piercing". Waiting often feels like a piercing, doesn't it? Because it is! We learn and grow in the wait, and in the meantime, a piercing is happening. A piercing of our ...

... control                                                                              

    ... plans
        ... wrong beliefs
            ... false idols
                ... pride
                    ... arrogance

In our wait, we see the things that we look to for our deliverance. We see the things that offer so much but can deliver so little. We see that often we're just looking for God's rescue but not for a true relationship with Him. He asks us to wait so that He can pierce and do away with all the things that entangle us. But He surely acts in this piercing. Surely!

"But now, O Lord, you are our Father;

we are the clay, and You are our potter;

we are all the work of Your hand." (Isaiah 64:8)

He's got this, sweet friends! If you're in the process of calling on the Father to come down and rescue you, if you're in the process of a piercing wait, KNOW that He is our Father. He is sovereign and good and continuing His work. 

A good potter doesn't leave the lump of clay as a lump of clay. He molds it, perfects it, fires it, and brings the work to completion. Our good Father? Our heavenly Potter? He won't bring you "this far" and then leave you on your own to finish it. That's His job! And He'll do it! He has promised us that!

"And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you

will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ." 
(Philippians 1:6)

So, what do we do with all this? 

• We understand that our God is good.
• We understand that our God is sovereign.
• We understand that because God is good and sovereign that we can trust Him where we are.
• We understand that we must not quit or grow weary in our wait.
• We understand that our God is working, even though we don't see the whole picture.
• We understand that there will be God's perfect completion at God's perfect time.

God's Word is perfect for our every need. Be active with it!!

Unplanned Adventures

It's been an interesting weekend at our house. I'm not quite sure if interesting is the right word. Shocking? Stretching? Learning?

Wes and I have been shopping for over 2 years for an RV and finally purchased one. We've been to RV shows, traveled all over the state of Oklahoma looking at used RVs, researched campers, read all about RV buying and preparations ... and finally brought our RV home this weekend.

It was proudly sitting in our front yard for a few hours until we decided to move it to the back part of our lot. First, we had to take down some fence panels to get it back there, but that's not a problem. We're experts at putting up and taking down fence because we have Houdini reincarnated in our dog. So, the panels came down and then I stood in the back to guide Wes through the semi-narrow passage. He backs trailers all the time, so this wouldn't be a problem.

Except ...

The trailer is wider than his mirrors so if I'm standing directly in back of him while he's backing up, he can't see me. We were halfway through the process before we realized the extensions hadn't been put on his mirrors yet, so he was having to go through this partially blind at times. We also didn't communicate very well just exactly what hand signs we would be using. When I motioned for Wes to move to the right, he thought I was motioning for him to continue coming straight back. But Wes managed to back the trailer in spite of the narrow passage and half-crazed woman flailing around, trying to give directions. He backed it up slowly ... and then suddenly, it wouldn't back up anymore, even though there was nearly a half acre of back lot to go.

Apparently, when it has rained every day for a week, the ground gets a little too soft for a truck and a trailer to drive on without sinking up to the axles in mud. Apparently. Apparently to everyone else but us, that is.

And, when an RV gets stuck in the mud and continues to sink deeper and deeper on one side, it will get the leans. In fact, it gets the leans so much that it will just lean on the nearest obstacle, which just happens to be our fence.

Brand new RV. Stuck in the mud. Leaning on a fence.

Hmmm. What to do? Fortunately I'm married to a wonderful man who doesn't get extremely frustrated and irritated at minor catastrophes like these. We just got some shovels and proceeded to start digging -- from the far side of the trailer since the sunk in side is on the fence. Well, Wes was digging. I was fighting with a dog.

Remember, I told you we have an Houdini-type dog. He is on a very long lead while he's outside because that dadgum brilliant dog has jumped our fence on every side. We built it up until it's taller than me. Of course, since I'm only 5 feet tall, that's not saying much, but still we've worked on a lot of fencing around our acre lot. Finally, we realized that no fence was high enough, and he just had to be on a long lead with supervision while he was outside. Well, our escape artist dog saw a fence panel was down and the way out was directly in front of him. Somehow Houdini Wylie wiggled out of his harness and was heading for freedom, and certain death in the busy street in front of our house.

I'm not a young girl anymore. I don't like running. I'm not exceptionally strong. But I saw the dog was heading to disaster and mayhem. I couldn't catch up with the dog (puh-lease!), so I did the only reasonable thing to do.

I dove after him.

Diving on the ground, even though it's been softened by a week of rain, still hurts. Especially when you're not used to that. But guess what?

I caught the dang dog. Caught him right by the scruff of his neck and held on like my life was on the line ... which I felt like it initially was since all the air had been knocked out of me. From the other side of the truck, my husband saw my head disappear, heard my "ooooof!" as all of the air was forced out of my body, and he hurried to help me ... or give me rescue breathing, whichever was needed.

Between the both of us, we were able to get the dog inside. The feeling was coming back in my back and stomach after having a hard meeting with the ground. Wes had run to the rescue ... but Wes's body doesn't like it at all when Wes runs anymore. The RV was still stuck in the mud, leaning on the fence. We were panting ... and moaning ... and groaning ... and deciding RVs and dogs are highly overrated. But we persevered. We persevered to the extent that we were finally able to get Wes's truck out of the mud so he could work today ... and our bright, shiny new RV is waiting for the nice tow truck man to pull it about 20 feet to the gravel pad out front.

Honestly, I thought our RV adventures would be a little different than this. I'm not quite sure what I was expecting, but I know I didn't foresee this weekend. One thing I know however, is that I've got a wonderful man to experience all of life with, a good God that knows just how it's all going to go, and the willingness to step out into a different sort of adventure. That makes it all okay in my book.

There will be more RV adventures coming up, so stay tuned!

Broken Made Whole

Some days, it seems like all we can do is question: How do we recover from this? Will there ever be restoration and healing? Is there any control anywhere? Our feelings get in the way, and we can sink into a pit of despair and discouragement.

There's so much in this broken world that shatters us and leaves us bleeding, staring at the gaping wound and wondering if we'll ever recover. At the base of all of it is sin. Whether it's just part of the overall, fallen condition of the world ... or if it's a sin that we've committed, or that's been committed against us -- we feel them all. They all seek to break and destroy us.

These are things that I hate.

Infidelity. It breaks marriages and lives. It is a ripping apart of two hearts that God has put together. It destroys families, damages witnesses and testimonies. It is a walking death.

Infertility. It breaks God's perfect plan of being fruitful and multiplying. It causes grief to a woman's aching heart, and brings a feeling of helplessness and hopelessness to the heart of the man who wants to provide for his wife. It is an emptiness.

Infirmity. Bodies that no longer work as they used to. Diseases that run rampant through these weary bodies. A broken imperfection that keeps us from living as we're told we should. It wears us down, tires us out, causes us to feel incapable and futile. It is a destruction.

Addiction. Rebellion. Defiance. Hatred. Wars. The list can go on and on.

All of these words are a result of sin. Some due to a sinful and selfish choice. Others due to a fallen and imperfect world. But at the root of all are sin. Sin causes us to feel inadequate, empty, worthless, incomplete, and alone. We grieve and we mourn because we are suffering a loss that we were never meant to experience. In our innermost beings, we know we were meant for more than this.

God knows. He sees. He sees our shattered hearts, feels our deepest pain, hears our agonized cries, knows our innermost being. The world seems to continue on around us, but we're frozen in place, swallowed up in our grief. Grief is a natural part of dealing with loss, and we must grieve.

However, we cannot ever lose sight of the fact that ... God is.

God is ...
     ... ever present.
     ... sovereign.
     ... good.
     ... faithful.
     ... perfect.
     ... all-knowing.
     ... whole.

God is ... all that we are not, especially when we're dealing with a by-product of the brokenness of sin.

God is ... tenderly asking us to trust in Him even we're hurting and scared.

God is ... continuing to write our story.

And His love for us is immeasurable. That was proven by the cross. All of the ugliness and destruction of sin, Jesus took upon Himself. For you. For me. For our healing and restoration.

Listen. If you only get one thing out of reading this post I want this to be it.

The cross is the point in history that we can point to where it was all finished. It was done. This sin that ravages our world, that gashes our soul, that we battle with daily -- it was defeated by Jesus on the cross. The battle still rages, but the victory is already won.

There will be a day when we will see this sin done away with. No more infidelity. No more infertility. No more infirmity. All that is broken will become whole. All that is empty will be made full. Ashes to beauty. Mourning to dancing. All through Scripture, God talks about the Day of the Lord -- the time that He'll heal it all.

It is coming. It is certain. And we wait in anticipation for all to be made right.

I'm Middle Aged ... If I Live To Be 116

I've heard it said that life is too short to be taken seriously. I agree 100% with that ... but totally disagree with it at the same time. Just depends on how you look at it.

For example, I don't want to go through all of my life and then get to the end and realize I wasted all that I had been given, that I focused on the things that don't matter to the exclusion of the things that do. On the other hands, I don't want to be so totally focused on the task at hand that I forget to smell the roses, that I neglect to just enjoy what's around me. That, my friends, is what we call a conundrum ... or life.

As I'm getting older, I'm learning more to enjoy what's around me. I still like to say I'm middle-aged, but my oldest son (who is dangerously close to middle age himself) likes to point out that I probably won't live to be 116, so therefore, I can't be termed middle-aged. Whatever. I'd like to say that my oldest son is dumb, but that would really not be nice ... so I won't.

This brings me to another point in that tiny argument about age that I have with my son. The British  have concluded in a study that middle age begins at 55. Sounds about right. Makes me a little more forgiving about that big war that we fought for independence with them a couple of hundred years ago. But I think they're on to something.

We'll just say I'm a little older. That way no one gets hurt. A little older. Maybe a little wiser.

I can sit on the back porch with my husband at night and watch the sun set while we talk about our days, about our dreams, about our family, about our life together ... and not worry that the kitchen isn't totally cleaned or the laundry hasn't been folded yet.

My husband and I laugh about the texts that we send each other, because if we're not wearing our reading glasses, who knows what will wind up being sent. Old blurry eyes and fat fingers do not make for good texting results, but they definitely make for a lot of hilarious fun!

I can watch our grandchildren play and enjoy their creative minds and mischievous attitude ... without worrying about how dirty they're getting, or how much sugar they're consuming, or what other people might be thinking.

I can put on my make-up in the morning and know that there's only so much I can do without resorting to cosmetic surgery ... but still be semi-okay with the fact that I'm presentable, and my husband likes the way I look. Besides, my eyes don't work like they used to, and what I don't know won't hurt me, right?

I'm at the age where if I tell people I took a nap today, they don't question my productivity or my health. Of course I took a nap. That's what people my age do! I just want to apologize to my mother for fighting naps like I did as a child. You were right, Mom. Naps are incredible!

We watch sporting events, movies, go to the doctor's office, see a policeman working an accident and realize that every one of those people look like little children. They're all younger than we are -- and we just smile at each other because we know they're going to be in our shoes one day.

It's the little things that give me joy. Getting up out of a chair without making noise. Seeing the trees change color in the autumn. Being surrounded by our children and grandchildren, laughing and enjoying each other. Hiking a rough terrain without pulling any muscles. Smelling hot chocolate chip cookies right out of the oven. Getting a compliment on my super-cute shoes. Holding hands with the man I've loved so many years.

God has given me so much. I used to just focus on the big things -- like my salvation, or His incredible love for me. Those things are awesome! Mind-blowing, if you don't mind me using an old person term. I know I'll never not be thankful for those "big things" because they're what my eternal life is all about. But, I've learned to slow down, to smell the roses, to appreciate all of the little gifts that go together to make this beautiful life He's given me.

This middle-age season suits me pretty well.

He Is Like A Tree ...

"Blessed is the man 

who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,

nor stands in the way of sinners,

nor sits in the seat of scoffers,

but his delight is in the law of the Lord,

and on His law he meditates day and night.

He is like a tree

planted by streams of water

that yields its fruit in its season,

and its leaf does not wither.

In all that he does, he prospers."

Psalm 1:1-3

My husband is in the tree and lawn business, but he particularly loves working with trees. So, he'll talk about them ... and I listen and learn. I find myself, when I read about trees in God's Word, perking up and drawing that in to the knowledge that my husband has taught me. So, this first psalm, as I'm beginning my study in the Psalms, immediately caught my attention.

Blessed ... happy is the man ... who what? The man who delights in the Word of God, who makes the Word of God a constant focus. The man who applies it., who studies it, who knows it. He's blessed because he knows the proper way to take. He doesn't veer off course and follow those who think they know the way, because he's following the One Who DOES know the way.

This same man, the one who delights in the Word of the Lord, is compared to a tree. The interesting part is that the word "planted" in verse 3 in the Hebrew is means to be transplanted. In other words, the tree was in one spot, and then moved to another. Transplanted. Just like me! I might think I'm in the optimal place. I've got all that my small mind thinks I need. I'm going along with my plans and my schedules ... and suddenly, I find myself uprooted! I'm taken out of my comfort zone and put where I truly need to be, where my roots will go deep. 

I imagine a tree sapling doesn't particularly like being transplanted. It can be traumatic, and on first view, it might appear that the tiny tree won't make it. But a master gardener knows the best place for this tree to be. He knows what kind of soil it needs to prosper. He knows where it will be the best for the proper amount of water. He knows how to give the tree the care it needs to thrive. And, even if the transplanting isn't particularly welcomed, the new tree will do well in the optimal environment. A tree with deep roots, planted by streams of water, will be nourished in the midst of drought. While a storm is raging, it's strengthened to be able to withstand.

A healthy tree will be fruitful. The interesting thing is that a tree yields its fruit in its season. An apple tree doesn't produces apples year round. A peach tree isn't constantly heavy with juicy, golden peaches on its limbs. Cherries only are evident in a certain season. And though the leaves might fall in the autumn due to the needed rest and protection from the harsh winters, spring is coming! That healthy tree will bud out and begin once more to produce.

So, what do I learn from this psalm on the tree?

More than anything, I need to trust that my Father in heaven knows what's best for me, and that His heart's desire is for me to have that best, regardless of the circumstances or "transplanting" going on around me. When I delight in God's Word and root myself in it, allow myself to be nourished, I too can withstand those certain times of drought and storm. Difficult periods of life are a certainty, but so is the ability to withstand those times if I'm rooted in Him and His Word.

And, like a tree, there will be seasons of fruitfulness and beauty, seasons of growth and production. Usually, those times will most often appear after a time of rest, maybe even after a time of darkness. One thing is certain. God doesn't waste the winter protection on the trees, and He doesn't waste the periods of darkness and repair for me either. Knowing Him, being in His Word -- it's life.

Spring always, always comes after the winter -- for the tree, and for me. Blessed is the man ... 

Life Gives No Guarantees ...

No one needs to tell us that this world is broken. We can look around and see it. We know it. We feel the sharp jagged edges of the brokenness all around us. None of us get through living in the midst of the splintered fragments without experiencing pain at some point in time. Because of that, we suffer.

Without thinking too hard, I can recall people who are:

• In a broken marriage, either through something as drastic as infidelity, or something as simple as self-centeredness. Whatever the case, there's a lot of grief, insecurity, confusion.
• Suffering from ailing, fragile bodies that just continue to not cooperate and break down even more quickly. How do I go through the day-to-day activities when my body wants to do its own thing?
• Walking the grievous road of infertility. What had been something that they thought would come so easily has been heartbreaking and tedious.
• Struggling with occupations. They're trying to make it work, but customers don't show up. Or equipment fails. Or there's always something that isn't right.
• Grieving because of a child that has made poor decision after poor decision, has walked away from the Lord and the family, and is living a dark and deceptive life.

To put it quite simply, our life isn't quite what we thought it would be. I don't know if we figured it would all be flowers and rainbows, that everything would come easily for us, that it would always be good, but sometimes we wind up in a dark place where we just want a guarantee that all will be like we want it to be. We want to be safe. We want to be comfortable. We want what we want.

There's no such guarantee. For this life anyway.

I'm still reading in Job. He's continuing to suffer (more than 32 chapters of suffering!!). Why? Haven't I done things right, Lord? Haven't I loved you and obeyed you? Haven't I done what You've asked of me? Why won't you fix my marriage/heal me/give me a baby/provide in my job/bring my prodigal home? And though we know God's right here with us, at times He seems strangely silent in the area where we are begging Him the most to work.

This is where the crossroads are, friend. This is where we have the decision to make. We can throw up our hands and figure God's not worth the trouble. After all, we've done our part, right? He's failed us. We can get angry. We can be defeated. We can give up. We can demand that He give us answers and explain Himself immediately.

And we'd be wrong. So very, very wrong. 

There are a few things we need to understand.

1. God is God, and we are not. Read Job, and you'll get an idea. We know He created the earth, but how? Can we even explain how it keeps working? He is great and mighty...and for us to even pretend for one moment why He does or doesn't do things is the epitome of arrogance and pride. And demanding Him to explain Himself when I don't like something He's doing is to pull Him down to my level.
2. Remember His goodness and His promises. What has He done for us? The cross. The resurrection. He came for us, to rescue us, to redeem us. Is there anything any better than that? Seriously?
3. Let go of what I'm holding on to more than Him. Anything else + Jesus = idol. Even things that are good gifts from Him can become idols that fill us with emptiness. Anything other than Him that we look to for us to be fulfilled is not enough. He's the only Enough that there is.
4. Our only guarantee in this life is Him. Fairness, happiness, a happily-ever-marriage, children, good health, jobs -- all are gifts that we long for. But God knows the gift that we need the most is Him. 

So, what do we do in this life? How do we live knowing that what we want so desperately is not guaranteed?

We keep our eyes on Him. We continue to get to know Him more and more. The more we know Him, the more we see His goodness, His trustworthiness. The more we know Him, the less we feel we have a right to have all the answers, to have control, to have that one other thing that we think we so desperately need. Maybe, just maybe, this area of our greatest pain is the area where He's showing us even more of Himself. He is who we need. He is our enough. He is better than our guarantee.

And for those of us that are His, we have this guarantee/promise in Him -- that someday, all that is broken will be restored. There's no guarantee of this in our life on earth, although sometimes God chooses to bless us in that way. He did with Job! But, even if He doesn't fix it all here in this lifetime, He will in our eternity. What is empty becomes filled. What is broken becomes whole. What is estranged becomes reconciled. What is barren becomes fertile. What is weak becomes strong. Why? Because it's Who He is.

Know it. Hold on to it. It will happen.

"Behold, I am making all things new." (Revelation 21:5)

Who Do You Think I Am?

I've just begun reading in Job for my morning quiet time. A part of me wants to yell, "Run, Job! You have NO idea what's coming!!" Good ole' righteous, upstanding Job. Good ole' Job with 7 sons and 3 daughters. Good ole' Job with thousands of sheep, camels, donkeys and oxen. Good ole' Job. He did everything just like he was supposed to ... and still he lost it all. Every single bit of it, plus some.

This is the part of the story where many of us would say, "I did my part, God. Where in the heck were You?"

Job suffered tremendously. He lost all 10 of his children, all of his wealth, and many of his servants and belongings in one day. A short time later, his hurting and grieving wife turned on him, and he lost his health and was on the brink of death. Good ole' righteous, upstanding Job. Good ole' Job who had done everything just like he was supposed to.

God allowed for it all to be taken away.

And what does Job say? My rough summary of the many chapters of Job's discourse: My eye has seen this. My ear has understood it. I did what I was supposed to do. I'm not being punished because I haven't done anything wrong. But sovereign God has done this, and I demand to know why.

The amazing part is that Job holds on to the sovereignty of God like a lifeline.

Have you ever been water skiing and fallen off the skis without letting go of the rope? I'm sure you're a better athlete and smarter person than I am. You can probably answer that question with a resounding no. But you're not me. Let me tell you -- when you're being pulled on the water face down by a speed boat, you eat lots and lots of water. Lots of it. It's really not very fun and will cause you to not want to water ski again. Ever.

That's what's happening to Job here. He's lost his skis. He's fallen flat on his face and is being pulled through the chopping waves of the waters. Drowning. Being out of control. He doesn't get it. He doesn't like it. He doesn't understand. Through it all, however, Job doesn't let go of his lifeline. He can't, because it's all he's got left.

But none of this makes sense. Job stands before God and demands to know what's going on. Where in the heck were You? Why didn't You do Your part? I'm hurting here, and You're not doing anything! I want to know why.

And instead of God thundering back at Job, "Who do you think you are?", He proceeds to show Job all of creation, all that He's done. "Where were you when I did all this, Job?" All wisdom, all might, all strength, all understanding -- all His. Job will never truly understand God and His workings.

Neither will I.

Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Who sets the limits for the sea? Look at the stars. Did you place them in those exact positions? Do you cause the rain to fall on the grass that grows? Do you feed the ravens and make sure they have food? These are all mysteries to you, Job. You haven't done these things in the past. You won't do them in the future. You can't do any of it. But I can, God says.

In other words, there are millions of things going on in this world. Literally millions. Job didn't understand them, didn't know how they all worked. And neither do I. But God does. And, it's presumptuous for me to think I can tell God just exactly how He needs to be working.

What strikes me is the tenderness in all of this. It's as if God is whispering "Who do you think I am? Open your eyes. Really see Me."

I think that's the same thing He whispers to me every evening as He paints the sky in vivid oranges, pinks, and purples of the sunsets. It's the same thing He whispers to me as the slender stems of flowers push out from the ground, eager to bloom. It's the same thing He whispers to me when someone grievously wounds my heart and leaves me broken and bleeding by the wayside. It's the same thing He whispers to me when up seems down, inside seems outside, and right ways seems side ways. It's the same thing He whispers to me as I open my Bible every morning, run my hands over the well-worn, marked up pages, and seek Him there.

Who do you think I am?

There have been times of deep grief and no understanding. There have been (and probably will be) times of wanting God to explain and give me answers. Ultimately, it all comes down to this: God is God, and I am not. He is good. He is faithful, and I can trust Him even when I don't have responses or explanations.

May my words be like Job's: "My ears had heard of You, but now my eyes see You." I see You, Holy God. I see Your sovereignty, Your goodness. I don't need to understand. I don't need to approve. I just need to see You.

For Such A Time As This

One thing I know -- I absolutely LOVE God's Word. I love reading it over and over and over again. There's always something perfect, just for me, and I can't help but want to share it with other people. So, if you're reading this, I want to share with you what I've been reading from Esther.

Haman (boo! hiss! the villain of this story) had been promoted above all of the officials in the kingdom. Obviously this promotion had gone to his head, and he was wanting people to bow down and pay homage to him. This isn't your typical brown-nosing, but it was to give Haman deity, to promote him to beyond-human status. Mordecai the Jew refused to bow. Haman was furious and determined to take care of the situation. 

So, he persuaded the Ahasuerus (the Persian word for king) to sign an edict to "destroy, kill, annihilate" (the Bible's words) ALL of the Jews. Not just Mordecai, but all of his people as well. Haman told a partial truth and twisted it. The Jews are a different type of people with different laws (truth), and they won't keep the king's laws (untruth). Haman's answer was to "kill them, we'll take all their stuff, and I'll pay 10,000 talents of silver to the folks who carry out this business". Xerxes (the king) agreed because ... whatever. He was king and had better things to do, and if he wound up with plunder, even better.

The thing is, when a Persian king issued a law, nothing could erase that law. The king was even unable to go back and change it. It stood firm. So, every single Jew under the rule of the Persian king (which was ALL of them) was facing a death sentence. A huge, insurmountable, impossible thing was before them ... and there was literally nothing they could do about it. And the edict was that this mass killing of a race of people would happen in a year's time. 

I'm sure all of hell celebrated because not only was the enemy getting to destroy all of God's precious people, but Satan's grand plan to wipe out the line of Judah, and the eventual Messiah looked like it was really going to happen. If the book of Esther ended at chapter 3, we'd see that evil would win and there would be no hope for any of us ...ever. 

But there's more to the story! 

Just like there's more to YOUR story. 

There might be huge, insurmountable, impossible obstacles in your situation right now. Satan might think he has you beat. He and his cronies might be planning a huge party of celebration. He might have you feeling like things are hopeless. 

But God!!! 

Esther's story didn't end in chapter 3. The crux of the matter is seen clearly in chapter 4 and verse 14: "For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father's house will perish. And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?" 

Those huge obstacles in your situation? They might not look like they're going anywhere. Only God knows how all of this story is going to unfold. But this I know. This you can take to the bank. This you can count on. Our God is sovereign. He is not unaware. He is so very, very good. Esther was where she was for a reason, for a purpose. And you, my friend, are too. 

"For such a time as this". Not just the numbers and hands on a clock. Not just a date on a calendar. But the moment that everything has fallen in to place. The instant when all of the planning and preparation is ready. This moment. This instant. This time. Not luck. Not happenstance. Not "this time is as good as any". God's perfect, appointed time.

Our God is working. Our God has a plan ... and His plan includes your good and His glory! Let's lift our eyes today to the One who is sovereign, who is good, who sees the next chapter, who knows how this story is going to end. Let's focus on Him and trust that He knows what He's doing even when we don't. He's still writing our story too! 

P.S. Read the rest of Esther! The good guys win ...

Sunday School Answer?

I had a sweet friend ask me the other day what she should have done about a specific situation. I had been through something similar, so she was hoping I'd have something brilliant to say about her circumstances. I would have loved to impress her with my intelligence and the perfect answer, but all I knew to say was "Jesus".I think that's the one major thing I learned while I was dealing with my own grief and confusion while I walked through circumstances so like hers. I so desperately wanted to fix it, so frantically wanted to make the pain go away. And I prayed often to that end.

God had other ideas.

So, I did what the only thing was that I could think of to do. Honestly, it wasn't that I was being deeply spiritual or incredibly mature, but I was absolutely and totally broken. There was nothing left in me -- no resources, no strength, no wisdom. I determined to look at Jesus as often as my mind would go there. When I was unsure about something, I'd look to Him ... and pray. When I was fearful about something, I'd look to Him ... and pray. When I was angry, or grieving, or happy, or hopeful, I'd look to Him ... and pray. I would take my eyes off of the pain surrounding me and put them squarely on the Lord before me. It was all I was capable of doing.

My situation wasn't corrected overnight. In fact, it was years before I saw any type of difference in the circumstances around me. But, I noticed something interesting during this journey. As long as I prayed and talked with Jesus about what was going on in my life, as long as I gave Him my fears and trusted His care, as long as I waited for His leading and direction, there were changes in me. No changes around me. No softening of the brokenness around me. But changes in me...

I began to see that His voice was more recognizable to me. I didn't have to question whose voice I was hearing, or what the truth was. I recognized it because Jesus and I had spent so much time together in His Word and in prayer. My soul was hungry, greedily so, to draw closer to Him, to learn more of Him, to be more intimate with Him. And the awesome part? He was just fine with all of that!

I always used to laugh at the Sunday school answer of "Jesus". Ask any of these questions in Sunday school and this would be the scenario: "Who's your best friend? Jesus! What do you want more than anything else in the world? Jesus! What is the answer when you're scared? Jesus!"

But, you know what? All of those answers were true and still very much are. He's not just a Sunday school answer -- not just a pat, routine response. The truth is, He is everything I need, everything I want, everything. Period. The storm around me wasn't quieted ... but I was. The brokenness around me wasn't restored ... but I was. I didn't suddenly have wisdom and know what to do in every bit of the journey ... but I knew someone who did. I didn't have control or knowledge of what was ahead ... but I knew someone who did.

Jesus.

Sunday school answer? Maybe so. But for me, He's the only answer.