Larry's Theology

On the way to her ballet class this morning, Grace and I heard this song on the radio. It just struck me how perfectly this song embodies some people's view of spiritual things. And I get why--I mean, it really makes things simple. It's a monkey or an ape. It's God or it's Satan.

Or maybe there's just a whole lot more going on than we'd like to think...

The Crucified Life

 “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."

Matthew 16:24

"Jesus has many lovers of His heavenly kingdom, but few bearers of His cross. He has many who desire consolation, but few who desire tribulation. He finds many companions of His table, but few of His abstinence. All desire to rejoice with Him, but few are willing to endure anything for Him or with Him. Many follow Jesus to the breaking of bread, but few to the drinking of the cup of His passion. Many revere His miracles, but few follow the humiliation of His cross."

Thomas A Kempis

A couple of weeks ago I was talking to a septuagenarian (older than me) friend. It had been a couple of years since I had seen him, and I ran into him at a memorial service. He's one of those men who doesn't mess around. So after giving me a great big hug he looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Are you OK?"

So I went through the usual drill about my weight.  Quite unintentionally I had lost quite a few pounds, so much that size zero’s were drooping on my hips.  It got to the point where I had to shop in the juniors department.  

"No, I don't have an eating disorder," I sighed knowing he probably wouldn’t believe me.   

"I didn't try to lose weight."

"Yes, I have been to the doctor and he says I'm perfectly healthy."

But this time there was a little whisper inside me, and I realized that for whatever reason God was asking me to crack open the vault a bit. He asked me if I was going through depression, and all the questions that go along with that.

"Do you sleep?"

“Sometimes.”

"Can you take care of your kids?"

 To which you say, as any mother does, "Yes," and then think, "Though I'm sure I could be doing better."

I took a deep breath and said, "Look, I'm not depressed, but I am walking through something really hard...so hard that it is affecting me physically.  Here's the thing...I'm pretty sure God is asking me to walk it...so you can't fix it."

He gave me the look I have gotten so many times in this journey.   It's a look full of compassion that says, "You are so gifted, so tender-hearted, so full of potential...I'm not sure what got you off-course, but we just need  to do whatever it takes to get you back on track so you can be happy and fulfilled and serve God again.  It says, “We want the old you back, the one that we all loved.”

Why are we always trying to rescue each other from the hard stuff? Jesus tells us that whoever would follow after him would have to take up a cross. How many people have tried to get me to take drugs, to see somebody who might be able to fix me, to exorcise the demons out of me, encourage me to find a new hobby...

Only a few have sat in the dark with me...and even fewer have stayed.

So he called me the following week. And he says this, "You know Becky, there is no temptation except that which is common to man. Temptation means test. So whatever you are dealing with cannot be uncommon to man. God isn't going to bring something into your life that is unique just to you."

At that moment I couldn't answer him. I mean, I kind of agreed with his theology, but I didn't know how to reconcile it with my journey. I don't know anyone who has walked what I believe God is asking me to walk.   I certainly couldn't point to chapter and verse.   I could feel the wounds in my spirit beginning to bleed with the hopeless feeling like I couldn't go forward and I couldn't go back. So I did what I have learned to do when I didn’t know how to reconcile God's Spirit within me with God's written Word.

I asked Him.

Then in the ways that I have become accustomed to seeing God work, He led me to a number of things that were helpful to me. The most important was a book called Contemplating the Cross. Through it the Spirit led me to a deep understanding of my journey in light of the gospel. My understanding did not come from chapter and verse, it came from the story of the crucifixion.

I had glimpses of understanding this before, but deep clarity began to set in. The journey that I have been walking is the path asked of every woman, every man. It is the path of the cross. Finally, I understood that my circumstances were the context for my crucifixion.

I had been well aware that my soul had been grieved to the point of death, that I had chosen to stay alive when a selfish death would have been much easier, that I had chosen the Father's will over my own pain, that I had undergone the terrible trauma of the garden, the abandonment and betrayal of man and the sense of isolation and tearing apart from all that I knew of God. I knew that I had been crushed by the Father's own hand, I knew that I had died for the sake of another, and I knew that I was waiting for resurrection. But for the first time I understood why.

 I understood the deep blessing that had been given me. And I sat in front of the cross in the chapel and I was overcome with wonder. It wasn't the wonder that you feel when you see something beautiful that makes you feel warm and tingly. It was the kind where you sit in a sort of stunned silence at a revelation so deep it quiets you to the core. I couldn't even wrap my head around it. But I knew it to be true. I knew that what I had been given was a great gift. It was the gift of the fellowship of the cross. I sat there feeling the depth of all that I had walked in my crucifixion, and the height of gratitude that God has brought me thus far, and is still bringing me through.

We've done a fairly good job in the church of talking about the redemption of the cross: Christ dying for us as our complete deliverance from the curse of sin. But I believe the church has missed teaching about the fellowship of the cross: Christ taking us up to die with Him and making us partakers of the fellowship of His death. It is because the crucified Jesus lives in us that we can live crucified to the world. (Murray)

Here is how Andrew Murray describes it,

"And so they would gradually enter more deeply into the meaning and power of their high calling to live as those who were dead to sin, the world, and self. Each in his own measure would bear the marks of the cross, with its sentence of death on the flesh, with its hating of the self-life and its entire denial of self, and with its growing conformity to the crucified Redeemer in His deep humility and entire surrender of His will to the life of God." (God's Best Secrets, Murray)

There is so much more I could say. If you have time, listen to Foreman's Learning How to Die, or watch a video of it on Youtube.

I'd love to tell you about the resurrection, but I'm not there yet. I'm in the long pause of the tomb. I'm in the emptiness. I'm in the waiting to become. Only God can raise me, though every bit of me wants to fill the emptiness before the third day.

This I know to be true, even though at times I don't feel it to be so:

Jesus is with me.

Jesus is the One who has led me to this place.

Jesus is the One who will bring resurrection.

I am crucified with Christ. I no longer live. But Christ lives within me.

A deep ache presses forth

From this sore and tender core

It scrapes the lining of my soul

A rising, voiceless cry echoes

To the one who pulls me

By the reins of my pain

To his blood-sweated cheek.

And we move through the darkness as one

Lamenting the cost of coming undone

We dance in the dirge of the slow-setting sun

Praying Father, Your will alone be done

A few notes:
The Crucified Life was originally posted on Deep Calls, in March 2008. 
I am preparing to speak before Communion at New Hope this Sunday, and this post reflects what I will be speaking about, I'd thought I'd share it with you who are far away.
I can no longer wear my junior size clothes, but Grace can.
I am no longer in the tomb, here's a link to Louvor, a poem I wrote in January 2010 as I felt myself coming out of that season in my spiritual journey. 
Blessings to you all,
B

House of Cards



Photo by Greg

When I got back from Swaziland a few months ago, everything was a bit of a blurr for me. 

I knew that God had asked me to go...but His reasons why were a bit unclear. 
I knew that I had been an integral part of the team that helped to shape and cast the vision for New Hope's ministry in Swaziland.
I knew that through the experience I began to feel like New Hope Church was home.
But over the last few months I've had this nagging sense that there was more to it. 
Sheila kept coming back to me...
New Hope church has decided to focus on the neediest part of Swazi, the area of Nsoko. I am so excited about our long term ministry there.  However, Sheila was a woman we met in the Manzini area, thus her needs did not really fall under the umbrella of the church's long term vision.  I spent some time praying through this, and the more I did, the more I got the sense that the Lord was saying to me that this one was my job. 



Wil, Sheila, and Me
Photo by Ken

Here is Sheila's story:

Our first day in Swaziland, we met up with Pastor Peter and his wife Precious to visit the home of one of the families of his church.  Marcia Borg filled me in a little on our drive there.  Sheila has AIDS.  She is mother to four children, the oldest being twelve.   She is also a Gogo—the term for Grandmothers who take on the care of their children’s children because they have died, more often than not, from AIDS as well.  Sheila cares for her 9 months old grandson.  Her husband died from AIDS, infecting her with the disease before he passed.   

Marcia had asked me to share a Scripture, so I turned to the Psalm I usually use when I pray with those who are sick.  Psalm 103: 1-3.  The words sat before my eyes.  He forgives all our sins and heals all our diseases.  All.  I read that word and I realized my faith was not big enough to read that to her.  How could I look into her eyes and into her condition and read the finality of such a statement with belief?  How could I not qualify it or reduce her expectation of it?  My faith was not big enough.   

When we arrived Sheila and the baby met us outside.  Not that our group could have squeezed into the one room anyway.  We all greeted Sheila, who was forgiving of our awkward Siswati.  Swazi’s have a somber look about them, but she did return our smiles.  Marcia knew Sheila because she is one of the Timbale women, and spoke quietly and warmly with her for a while.  Soon she motioned me closer to share Scripture. 

In preparing for my trip to Swazi, the Lord had impressed Isaiah 40-41 on me.  Isaiah 40: 1 says,

“Comfort, yes, comfort my people!” Says your God.  “Speak comfort to Jerusalem and cry out to her.” 

That was my call for this moment, to comfort Sheila.  So I turned to Isaiah 41:9-10 and read the verses over her,  looking into her eyes as I read them, as if to give her every word as a gift.   As Precious translated, she took in every one, hungry for hope. 

“You are my servant, I have chosen you and have not cast you away: Fear not for I am with you; Be not dismayed for I am your God.  I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you.  I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.”

She nodded and thanked the Lord closing her eyes to receive them into her being.  “Thank you,” she kept saying as I read.   Afterwards we all joined around her and prayed, asking God to minister to the needs of her body, mind, heart, and spirit.  She was very grateful for our prayers.  Then Marcia asked her if there was something in particular that she would like us to pray for. 

Sheila's Blocks

Sheila turned our attention to a pile of cement blocks sloppily stacked on the slope in front of her house.  As a Timbale woman, Sheila volunteers her time at a Care Point cooking and caring for orphans and other children whose families cannot afford to feed them.  On the days she is not at the Care Point, she and other Timbale women meet for a time of discipleship and share a sewing machine and make purses to sell for income.  This money is theirs to use for the needs of her household as she wishes.  Over the last few months, Sheila had used her money from the bags to buy the cement blocks.  She did not yet have enough blocks for a one room home, or money to buy mortar to put them together or for a roof overhead.  She explained to us that the wind and rain come into her house through the large cracks in the wood. During the last rains they stayed outside because there was actually more water inside.  Suddenly the holes in her walls took on a deeper meaning for all of us standing there.  Sheila’s prayer request was for one of her two older boys to find work, when not in school, so that they could save enough to build the blocks into a house that would keep dry in the rains. 



Sheila's Oldest Son and Grandson in front of their house.



I asked Jumbo later how much money it would cost her to build a little one room house.  It would be about $4,000, the roof being the most expensive piece.  Sheila sells the bags she makes through the Timbale project.  She volunteers daily at the Care Point, taking care of the needy children in her area.  It would take her about 3 years to save enough money.

 "That’s a lot of wind and rain and time," I thought. 

Then to our surprise, Sheila quietly shared with the group that she has AIDS.  This is a testament to the relationships that are being developed among the Timbale women.  Swazi’s do not normally share such things.  They never cry in public, it is a shame.  But slowly they are learning to tell their stories, and to trust that they will find comfort, sympathy, and acceptance.  We gathered around her and prayed for her, brothers and sisters in Christ, with little else in common with this dear woman.  Though she did not ask for financial assistance, we couldn’t help but feel the weight of her need and silent hope that we might help her. 

Sheila's Cross

After we prayed with her, Marsha, a nurse, sat and talked with her for a bit about her health while the team engaged with the children.    Attention is hard to come by in Swaziland, especially from adults.  Women are stretched way beyond the breaking point, caring for children with little to no food, money, or protection.  Many of them sick with disease themselves. 

Marsha asked Sheila if she was taking her medication.  AIDS meds are provided free for women with HIV positive children, but they have to pay money for transportation to get their meds, money that could be used for food.  Then they must prove that they will come consistently before they are even given medication.  AIDS medication must be taken consistently, on a strict schedule, a concept foreign to this culture. 

Unless God heals her, Marcia told me, she probably has a year to live.  I slowly walked the property, taking a few pictures.  The bits of information I had received started to come together in my head.  This dear woman’s husband has recently passed away from AIDS, which he most likely contracted from another woman.  He infected her with the disease before he passed.  Sheila was taking care of her grandbaby because his Mom has passed, so that means that she has lost a daughter in the last year as well.  Sheila has maybe a year to live and she has 5 children under her care who will have no one to care for them after she passes. 

Her faith in God is strong.  Her love for Him unwavering.  Her focus lies not on her own grief, but on building a dry shelter for her children to live in when she is gone. 

Sheila and Grandson

We gathered around Sheila before we left and presented her with a gift:  a 25 lb. bag of cornmeal to make pap, their staple food for every meal, some beans, cooking oil, sugar, tea, packets of gravy to put over the corn meal.  It was enough to feed her family for a week to 10 days. 

Through Precious, Sheila said to me as I hugged her, “I often am very afraid when I lay down to sleep at night.”  “But tonight I will rest well because of your visit to us.”  “I will have joy in my heart.”

What will happen to Sheila, I wonder.  Is there anything we can do to help this woman who suffers from the loss of her husband, her daughter?

 This woman trying to care for her children and grandchild with no electricity and no running water. 

This woman who has cracks in her stick walls large enough for me to stick my arms through and a few cement blocks on her land she can’t afford to mortar together. 

This woman who volunteers her energy and strength to take care of orphans and the underprivileged on a daily basis.

This woman who is sick with AIDS.

And I wonder, if God doesn’t heal her, what will happen to her children?  If they leave their land, they lose their property rights, but if there is a good shelter for them there, they could keep their land. 

As I thought about Sheila and the children, I felt more and more sure that the Lord was telling me specifically to do something for her.  I had sensed for a while there was something special He wanted me to do with my photos, and as I was praying about it, a very clear picture came to me and I knew what I was to do.  My Aunt has been telling me for ages that I should make up photo cards and sell them...but for any number of reasons I have been hesitant to try to make money off my photos.  This time, I knew it was the right thing.  You can actually make a really beautiful photo card for about 50 cents.  If you sell it for the price of a greeting card, you can make $2.00 profit.  So if I wanted to raise $4,000, I figured out that I needed to sell 2500 cards, or 500 packs of 5 cards at $10.00 a piece.  It actually seemed really doable.  It was as easy as 50 people selling 10 packs of cards.

I decided to call it the House of Cards project.  The people of New Hope Church have been so great in helping me put these together. 

There are three series that we have prepared.  Two of the series are photos of the children. One series is of African wildlife. Each series has five different photos cards with envelopes.  

If you are interested in purchasing sets or helping us to sell sets, please send me an e-mail at bgrace@embarqmail.com.  I would love to talk more with you about this project.

Please pray that God will multiply these fishes and loaves.  It is possible this is only the first House of Cards we will build.

Thank you for taking the time to read this post and prayerfully consider how God might call you to join us in building a house for Sheila.
Here is a sample of some of the photos we are using for the cards. 

All photos by Bgrace unless noted.
Please respect copyright.

Generations of Grace



Sunset on Ice
Photo by Bgrace

 I stopped by Rev. Mary's on Monday morning to pick up a project I am working on with her and she began to tell me about Edna and her daughter. They had asked for a visit and for prayer.  Thoughts of Christine at the park flashed in my head and suddenly I felt a surge of power through me.  At times the Spirit of God comes upon me in this way, but I'm still coming to terms with the fact that what I am experiencing is real and is in fact God.  It was quite strong and I reached out almost involuntarily to touch Rev. Mary's hand while she was chatting on about these women. I had said nothing and there was nothing on my face that would have indicated what I was experiencing, but she jumped as I touched her and yelled, "Whoa!" 
"Did you feel that?"  I asked her in amazement, jerking my arms up and down as if they were soaked and I needed to shake the excess water off. 
"Yes!" she laughed heartily.
 "What was that?" I asked in consternation.
"I guess the Lord wants you to go!" she said gleefully. 
"That doesn't happen to me very often, you know." 
"Well then, we need to get you out there!" she happily countered. 
I told her a little about my experience with Christine, and how upset I was with God for "doing that to me;" that at the time I didn't even really believe in that sort of thing or know if what was happening was of God or not. 
"You don't need to be afraid," she said, "The Lord will show you what to do." 
This morning I woke up early to prepare myself for my time with Edna.  One of the ways the Lord has been growing me is in the area of praying in faith.  Andrew Murray writes beautifully about it in "With Christ in the School of Prayer."  He speaks of the Scriptures where Jesus affirms to us again and again that what we ask for in faith we will receive...in accordance with the will of God. He says that we too often use the "if it is your will God" as a crutch.  In other words, we don't take the time to actually seek His will about what we will ask for in prayer before we ask. Instead it becomes a sort of catch all we offer at the end of our prayers. We must have faith that as we seek Him, He will reveal to us how we are to pray.  Only then can we truly ask with faith that our prayers will be answered because we are praying in the name of Jesus.  We are praying the revealed will of our Lord.  A few years ago I remember facing this teaching and feeling that it was impossibly beyond me.  Richard Foster says there is a progression in the spiritual life.  Some things we learn over time, and it is not just the learning that takes time, but the becoming.  I am becoming more able to hear, and as I pray what He leads me to, I am becoming more full of faith and confident in the Lord's answers, and I am seeing the Lord answer my prayers. 
I say all of this so that you will understand why I was feeling so conflicted this morning as I began to pray about my time with Edna.  As I approached the Lord about praying for her healing, I realized there was this big block in my spirit.  I had no faith that Edna would be healed.  "Praying for her healing, especially that I would be used to bless her in this way will not do any good if I don't believe you are going to heal her, Lord." 
What was wrong with me?  I thought about it for a while and it became clearer what I was feeling.  "Lord, I'm not sure I want to pray for her healing because she is old. What if its just her time?"
Ouch.  That was ugly.  But there was no getting around it. 
"Lord, help me to hear from You that You want Edna to be healed.  Then I will be able to have faith that I am praying Your will." 
I sighed and turned to Psalm 103.  It was a Psalm that Deb Haken had often used when praying for healing and I was familiar with it.  So I decided to pray through it.

Bless the LORD, O my soul,

And all that is within me, bless His holy name.

Bless the LORD, O my soul,

And forget none of His benefits;

Who pardons all your iniquities,

Who heals all your diseases;

Who redeems your life from the pit,

Who crowns you with lovingkindness and compassion;

Who satisfies your years with good things,

So that your youth is renewed like the eagle. (NASB)

There it was, right in front of me. The word I was to give Edna and the prayer I was to pray for her. Why would you need your youth to be renewed if you weren't old?  This was a prayer I could pray in faith. 

When I met Edna this morning, she didn't need her oxygen tank as she had earlier in the week.  When Rev. Mary introduced me I asked Edna if it would be OK if I thought of her as my Grandma.  "I don't have any Grandmas who are living, and so I was wondering if I could think of you as mine for the day."  She thought that was a great idea.  I told her a little about Grandma Grace--she would have been 100 this year--and how she got on a boat all by herself and crossed the ocean to be a missionary in the Amazon jungle. Edna thought that was pretty amazing.  Rev. Mary brought Edna a Bible and asked me to read a pamphlet she had brought.  I did so in my best Grandma Grace imitation, not holding back at all.  Then I shared with Edna that when I was praying this morning, the Lord had given me a Scripture that I felt He wanted me to pray for her and share with her. (That's what some people call a "word").  I began to read Psalm 103 and Edna began to say it with me from memory.  When we got to the part about renewing her youth I told her that was what I thought was most important that I pray for her.  She nodded.  Rev. Mary asked if she wanted to sing Blessed Assurance with us and Edna's voice was surprisingly strong and steady and quite nice!  When we got to the part where we sang, "This is my story, this is my song," I about lost it.  

Rev. Mary had one more gift. I thought it was a bit strange as Edna pulled it out of the package.  It was a little white stuffed sheep.  Really?  A stuffed animal for a 95 year old woman?  That's what the Lord had led Rev. Mary to bring.  You know what? She was more excited about that stuffed animal than even my daughters would have been.  She loved on it and cuddled with it and cried with it.  It was beautiful.

Edna's daughter came over and handed me a card.   She said softly, "This is the passage of scripture that I wrote out and I keep on my Mom's table in her room."  As I began to read the tears welled up in my eyes.  It was the first few verses of Psalm 103.

The word today was for Edna, the lesson was for me. 

As I drove to pick Sarah up from preschool, the CD that I've been listening to (Josh Wilson's latest) was playing.  My favorite song on the album is an instrumental rendition of Amazing Grace.  All the emotions I've been feeling over the last few days swelled up and over and the tears ran down my cheeks.  I miss Grandma Grace.  I would have loved to hold Grandma's hand like I held Edna's warm frail hand today.

And sing to her.
And read to her.
And tell her my story.
What would she say about my journey? 
I think more than anyone else, maybe she would understand. 
Maybe she would even be proud. 
Is it possible that who I am and who I am becoming is somehow because of her? 
Maybe I am the fruit of her tree.
She didn't let her gender or her circumstances quiet the Spirit of God in her.  I could, in fact, picture myself waving to all the skeptics on the shore and sailing off to a jungle across the ocean. 
I smiled to myself.
I am Rebecca.  I am also Grace. 

 "What would she think of me?" I wondered.

And the answer came quietly and clearly to me.

Grace knows.

Grace understands.

Grace moves.

Grace never fades.

I walked Sarah to the car in the crisp wind and bright sunshine at exactly noon. 
The bells of St. Marks began to play their midday song. 
It was too perfect. 
I just shook my head...what was there to do but sing along?

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me,

I once was lost but now I'm found, was blind but now I see. 

As Grace lives through me, may I make her proud.

Originally Posted on Bgrace March 2010

How does God tell time?

Chronos and Kairos

Photo by Bgrace

Guests

When I put Bgrace, The Gallery together, it was an attempt to compile my writings/photos from various places/blogs and pull them together for a public audience. So until this point I have refrained from putting other people's works here. However, if you know me, you know my nature is anything but legalistic. So I decided to share the works of a few people I am currently mulling over, and I think from time to time I might invite a few more guests to visit us at The Gallery.
Take some time and lose yourself in their work.






Katie Melua is a new discovery for me.  When I saw "The Tourist" I heard a song I knew I wanted to hear again, so I did a little digging and found out who it was by.  I started to listen to the body of work by this singer and was immediately drawn in.  I love the serendipity and whimsy in her writings and yet I also find depth in them.  Her song/video It's Only Pain is fantastic.  And the song No Fear of Heights from The Tourist, I could listen to all day long (and will as soon as I get the CD.) But my favorite is the piece above.  It is a beautiful romantic ballad, but it also feels a lot to me like what I am experiencing in my relationship with God.  It's that sense of wherever you are is where I want to be.  Whatever you are a part of is what I want to be in...and knowing that God longs for us with as much depth of desire.  It is meaningful to me in many personal ways--the sea, seagulls, stars, and sailboats.  The line, "sometimes I believe in fate but the chances we create always seem to ring more true" is a thought I have turning over in my mind about many things over the past few years. I don't believe in chance, but I do believe in choice and risk.   But to understand what I mean by that, you'll have to read the book below.  I've also ordered her DVD of her concert under the sea (literally), and can't wait to hear more. I hope you enjoy her as much as I do.

Now, for those of you in the know about these things, John Sanders may very well be on your black list.  Of course, if you are a person that has such a list, unless you are related to me, you probably don't read my blog. (Love you, Dad, just kidding :-)

I am going back to this book.  I have had it for several years, but my emotions were too raw and too close to the conversation for me to be able to read it without the onset of a nervous breakdown. I just wasn't ready for what I was reading to be true, and couldn't get away from how much sense it made to my world which was not making sense at the time.  

I believe that if you would approach the subject of providence with an openness, willing to look at it again with fresh eyes, you would absolutely benefit from reading this book.  And if you are scared of being confused rather than enlightened, than by all means read D.A. Carson's Divine Sovereignty and Human Responsibility with it. It will give you a broad grasp of the discussion.

Less intimidating, perhaps, is my next guest, though I don't think you will find her more shallow.  This is my all time favorite movie.  I watched it last week for the first time in a while.  I like this movie better every time I see it.  Every word, every frame is layered with meaning.  It is not a horror movie, though it is certainly full of suspense. Shyamalan does what only he can do with a story, or in this tale, I should say with Story, the name of the Madame Narf from the Blue World.  If you have never seen it, there is no movie I would recommend more highly than this one.  There are a few things in your life that you see that change you.  For me, this movie was one of them. The first clip is a fabulous trailer, but when I saw the second one, I couldn't not post Josh Groban's addition to the feeling of the story.  If you look up the translation to his song, Mi Mancherai, you will understand how it sings Cleveland's heart.

Last, but not least, I have been mulling over 2 favorite poems of mine written by Mary Oliver, published in her book Winter Hours. I was at a Quaker retreat a couple of years ago, and it was given to me then. Earlier this year, I had an experience that led me to believe that at the first snow I would come into an understanding of something, or receive a gift of some sort. On December 26th, that happened for me. I felt like my eyes were opened, and that I saw some things that though they were in front of me for a long time, had remained veiled. I felt the Lord giving me a choice. This poem came to my mind recently, and I felt that even then it had hinted to me of things to come, but not revealed until I made a choice. I know all of that may seem very far fetched and confusing to some of you.  Don't let it bother you.  Enjoy the poem, and the photos by another guest, Rodger Pickett, a man I met, not by chance one day, when he was taking pictures of strangers.

The Swan

by Mary Oliver

Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?

Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air -

An armful of white blossoms,

A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned

into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,

Biting the air with its black beak?

Did you hear it, fluting and whistling

A shrill dark music - like the rain pelting the trees - like a waterfall

Knifing down the black ledges?

And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds -

A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet

Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?

And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?

And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?

And have you changed your life?

The Swan

also by Mary Oliver

Across the wide waters

Something comes floating-a slim

and delicate ship filled with white flowers and it moves

on its miraculous muscles as though time didn’t exist

as though bringing such gifts to the dry shore was a happiness

almost beyond bearing.

And now it turns its dark eyes, it rearranges the clouds of its wings,

it trails an elaborate webbed foot, the color of charcoal.

Soon it will be here.

Oh what shall I do when the poppy-colored beak rests in my hand?

Said Ms. Blake of the Poet:

I miss my husband’s company—he is so often in paradise.

Of course! The path to heaven doesn’t lie down in flat miles.

Its in the imagination with which you perceive this world,

and the gestures with which you honor it.

Oh what will I do, what will I say, when those white wings touch the shore?

Photos by Rodger Pickett

Dwelling in the Inquiry

Photo by Bgrace

I used to think my destination was a place where I would finally have all the answers. 
A place where I could finally rest in the "truth." 
That place would be peace, it would be sanctuary, it would be home.

"One thing I have desired of the Lord.
That will I seek:
That I may dwell in the house of the Lord
All the days of my life,
To behold the beauty of the Lord
And to inquire in his temple."
Psalm 27:4

But the Psalmist doesn't seem to describe his resting place this way... 
No, home is not the place where you have all the answers, but the place where you can forever ask.
It's a place where you have found all You need in the presence of the answerer.
Home is the place where we rest in the asking.

Communion with God and communication with God, however intimately connected, are not the same thing.  When our communication with God (IE. getting answers), becomes more important to us than our communion, we lose our ability to rest in Him. The rest in communion is the context necessary for intimate communication to take place.  It is then and there we can ask, and where He does answer. 
Though His answers are most often doorways to even greater questions.

You know it when you feel it.

I suppose it's all about light, and color, and texture, timing and a lot of other things that I should know more about than I do. 
I took about 300 pics today of Em's first riding lesson. 
After all was said and done, it was the photo of Em with the cat I loved most.  I could stare at her face all day.  It has nothing to do with her expression and everything to do with her face.
Hmmmm...

What is it that captivates us?
It's essence is elusive and yet undeniable real. 
And yet I know this picture may hold very little attraction to anyone else.
Nonetheless, when you find it, when you feel it--what captivates you,
it becomes the favorite photo in the album
the only fish in the sea
the pearl of greatest price.

I wonder how many we get in a lifetime.

Swazi Blog

Hey all...

I promised when we got the Swazi Blog up I would put a link here for you. 
http://nhc-swaziland.blogspot.com/
It's just in it's beginning stages, so stay tuned for more posts. 
One more thing...it's time to build Sheila a house...but we're going to need a lot of help. 
More information on that soon to come.
B

A Different Kind of Man

Photo by Bgrace
Cornell University Chapel

 ⁵ When Jesus had entered Capernaum, a centurion came to him, asking for help. ⁶ “Lord,” he said, “my servant lies at home paralyzed, suffering terribly.”

 ⁷ Jesus said to him, “Shall I come and heal him?”

 ⁸ The centurion replied, “Lord, I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed. ⁹ For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”

 ¹⁰ When Jesus heard this, he was amazed and said to those following him, “Truly I tell you, I have not found anyone in Israel with such great faith. ¹¹ I say to you that many will come from the east and the west, and will take their places at the feast with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. ¹² But the subjects of the kingdom will be thrown outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

 ¹³ Then Jesus said to the centurion, “Go! Let it be done just as you believed it would.” And his servant was healed at that moment.  Matthew 8:5-13 (New International Version, ©2010)

This story has been turning itself around in my mind recently.  I love this encounter because it surprises us and even amazes Jesus, a fact which is a curiosity in its own right.  Jesus often interacts with people who do not play as we expect them to.  In the revealing of their hearts, He exposes ours. I find myself sitting back with a bit of wonder in my chest...not only for the honorable Centurion, but at the jadedness of my own heart which made it so difficult for me to believe that such a man could have eyes to see. 

The Centurion was a Roman, a Gentile, a man of some power, wealth, and authority. He is not someone we expect to care so much about his servant.  He is not someone we would expect to come to Jesus and ask rather than coerce or order.  He is not someone we would expect to turn Jesus' offer down to come to his house on the grounds of unworthiness.  We are most surprised because he is not someone we expect to have divine insight.   

The Centurion had the ability to see, to discern truth that others, even followers of Jesus, could not even begin to grasp.  He understood Roman authority and was given insight to understand that Jesus had spiritual authority. 

Jesus response to him is to honor his faith, by healing his servant and raising him up in stature above even His own people. "I have not found anyone in Israel with such great faith."

As for me, I am learning that things are not always as they seem.  Just when I think that I have a leg up on divine insight into a situation, God surprises me by saying, "Actually, B, you're the last one to get it.  This one's been waiting for you for a long time."  

And yet, it's a good thing.  I'm laughing at it all and full of joy and glad I follow a God who doesn't mind surprising us...or even being surprised.   

What Wondrous Love is This

 Photo by Bgrace

As I was preparing to share this teaching on Communion, there was a song that was running through my mind as I thought about what I should say.  It's an old hymn that I've always been fond of.

What wondrous love is this oh my soul oh my soul?
What wondrous love is this oh my soul?
What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss to bear the dreadful curse oh my soul oh my soul
To bear the dreadful curse oh my soul.

On the night He was betrayed, there were a lot things on Jesus' mind. 
In his gospel, Matthew (26) tells us Jesus knew that night, that He would be betrayed by one of His chosen ones and later crucified. 
Mark (14) tells us Jesus knew that the reason he had been anointed with perfume was for his burial. 
He knew that a man carrying a pitcher of water would help his disciples to set up for the Passover Meal.
He tells us Jesus knew that when when He, the Shepherd, was struck his sheep, the disciples, would scatter, and He would be deserted. 
He knew, that Peter would not only desert Him, but instead of dying for Him as Peter had promised, he would deny he ever knew Jesus.
Jesus knew that He would be raised again, and as John so beautifully lays out for us, Jesus knew that He would be going to his Father. 
There were a lot of things Jesus knew about the circumstances going on about Him. 

On the night he was betrayed, we know that His disciples gathered around Him to celebrate the passover meal.  All of them, the betrayer, the deserters, the denier, the doubter, sat at the table with Him.
And Jesus--knowing what was ahead of him that night, knowing how they were going to respond to the events of the next three days--Jesus has this moment--this opportunity to speak to them.

And this is what He says to them,  (I quote from Luke 22)
"I have looked forward to this hour with deep longing, anxious to eat this Passover meal with you."

On the night He was betrayed, deserted and denied, what Jesus had on his mind was Communion.

What wondrous love is this:

That night, Jesus took the bread into his hands and broke it, and gave it to Peter, and He said,
"This is my body, which is given/broken for you, Do this in remembrance of me.
Communion.

Then he looked at John, the disciple to whom He would soon entrust with the care of Mary, and He said,
"John this cup is the new covenant between God and you, sealed by the shedding of my blood.  Do this in remembrance of me as often as you drink it."
Communion. 

What wondrous love is this?

Paul describes it for us in Romans: 
"You see, at just the right time, while (they) we were sinners, Christ died for the ungodly.  Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die.  But God demonstrates his own love for us in this, while we were still sinners Christ died for us.  (Romans 5:6-8)


We as a body of believers in Jesus Christ: followers, disciples, mothers and fathers, employers and employees,  betrayers, deserters, deniers, and new year resolution breakers come to the table with the Lord Jesus this morning. 
On this morning, He has some words for us. 
He says, 
"I have been looking forward to this hour with deep longing, anxious to eat the Passover Meal with you."

He has been looking forward to Communion with us. 

He looks at me, and He looks at you and He knows what is in our hearts, He knows where our footsteps will take us this year, He knows what great assignments He will entrust us with, He know when we will doubt Him, and even the moments we may desert Him, the times we might be tempted to deny Him.
On this morning, He has communion on His mind.

He breaks the bread and holds it out to us and says, This is my body that has been broken for you, eat this meal,drink this cup, remembering me. Remembering MY sacrifice has sealed our covenant, our communion.

What wondrous love is this. 

Spoken in preparation for Communion at New Hope Church

1-2-11

Son of a Seagull

Pretty Sure This is Gabriel

Photo by Bgrace

Have you ever been surprised by nature?
More than awed or enamored, I mean, what you never thought was possible until you witnessed it yourself, saw it with your own eyes and kept blinking just to make sure you weren't dreaming surprised?

What if I told you that a seagull can kill a shark?
Not possible, right?
I didn't think so.

(Big sigh.) I love the beach. Everything about it. The sun, the sea, the sand, the rocks, the creatures, the smells and the sounds. Now that I have three kids, going to the beach is a lot different than it used to be for me, but I have this one routine I always try to keep. When everyone else is still sleeping, I slip out and make my way to the shore every morning to catch the sunrise. I've loved doing this for as long as I can remember. If I'm in Jersey, I head over to Brown's on the boardwalk and get a couple donuts hot out of the fryer (honey-dipped are the best). Then I make my way to the beach. Sometimes I sit and wait. Sometimes I roll up my jeans and walk along the edge of the water.

This one morning I was walking and wrestling with God in my spirit. It had been a really weird night. I was experiencing things in my relationship with God that I didn't understand. I had never known God in this way and I wasn't sure I wanted to. The more I prayed for clarity the weirder things got. So I took my confusion to the waves and felt the numbing cold on my feet distract me from the chaos inside.

It was then I saw the seagull hovering low over the water about three feet out from me. At first I was enchanted, "Oh--I'm gonna get to see him catch a fish right in front of me." I'd never seen anything like that. The seagull started this ferocious attack on the fish just under the surface of the water. It was a pretty big fish, as big as the seagull in fact. Then, I realized it wasn't exactly a fish. It was a shark. A baby shark, but a shark no less. I stood there paralyzed. It was the most amazing thing. The seagull couldn't pick up the shark, because it was too heavy, but its beak was strong enough to keep it confined and wound it severely. It had enough strength to move the shark in the tide's current to the shore about 4 feet to my left. The shark shuddered a couple times while the seagull pecked it to death and then finally gave up its ghost.

Now there were a couple of things going through my head. First, I have to admit in the dark recesses of my mind was the small concern..."Where's mommy?" So I stepped a little further out of the water...OK, all the way out of the water. Then I kept thinking, "Am I really seeing this? This is a bit unusual, isn't it?"

Curiosity got the best of me and I started to move ever so slowly toward the seagull standing guard over his shark. Ha! That seagull was staring straight at me, and every time I moved any closer toward the shark he tugged him that much further away from me.

We played this game for a few minutes and then this awareness came over me. I had one of those moments where you become more aware of the spiritual realm than the physical reality. I had this sense of God's presence around me and I realized that He was speaking to me and that He was very present with me.

I had been asking Him all night...is this You? I need to know this is You.
You as in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob You.
You as in Father, Son, Spirit You.
You as in when I pray, you're the One answering...right?

In that moment the sun peeked its peach rays up over the horizon and the sea turned to diamonds. It was breathtaking. No matter how many times I see the sun glorify the water, it still has that effect on me. And I knew God was with me. Knew as in having a deep awareness of.
I don't know how I knew, but I didn't have to keep blinking to check if I was dreaming.

As I soaked in the horizon, I started to listen to some music and a song began to play that I didn't remember hearing before, at least it felt like the first time...and it was singing to me. It's by Hillsong, and these are the words:

Rest in You
Your faithfullness endures always
Where mountains fall and reason fails
And You calm the raging seas
And You calm the storms in me, again
All I know is I find rest in You
All I know is I find rest in You
My heart will praise throughout the night
Where singing seems a sacrifice
Your grace is all I need
Your grace is all I need

I still don't know what all God was saying to me then. At least not in words. Since that day I've always associated seagulls with angels, heavenly guardians, and I'm always moved when I see them in unlikely places...but that could just be the romantic in me.

Yet, I was thinking about this experience the other day and I take this lesson from it. There is so much that I am tempted to take for granted as truth. Things I say that I know it to be true. That something can or can't be because I have these parameters in my head of what defines it. If you had asked me before my experience if sharks could be killed by a seagull--I would have said of course not--that's just stupid. I believed that because in my head I was picturing Scuttle meets Jaws. Maybe something like that could happen in the movies--Disney movies--but not real life. I wasn't picturing the plucky son of a seagull who fished a baby shark out of 18 inches of wave at the edge of the tide before sunrise.

That is the lesson God teaches me again and again--that He is Ruler over all things--seagulls and sunrises, sharks and diamonds. When something doesn't fit my idea of what's possible it could be my parameters that need to be redefined.

I'm learning to trust in the Creator of nature more than my understanding of nature. I'm learning that He protects me from sharks--even when I am unaware, that He answers my wondering with more wonder, and that He is continually breaking down my sense of what is and replacing it with a sense of Who is.
Now if He could just work on keeping the seagulls away from my donuts...

"Trust in the Lord and do good;
Dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.
Delight yourself in the Lord;
Trust in Him and He will do this:
He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn,
The justice of your cause like the noonday sun.
Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him."
Psalm 37:3-7a

Originally Posted on Deep Calls,
January 29, 2008

First Snow

Photo by Bgrace

Snowflake by Emily and Grace

The first snow brings a new covering

A bright mix of colors

White with gold and cobalt blue

Clear crystals sparkle the world into new

Hope falls softly on ivory statue

Elegantly robed, with golden band

Hidden in gentle shadow from hell's demands

Kept quiet and safe

Until the moment we see it full face

Ice petals form into winter's bouquet

Gracious swans glide and make their way

Through ice and cold and lonely wait

For Father Winter's command

 When it comes,

Will you offer your hand?



Prayer and Supplication

Photo by Bgrace