BRIDGES

     I was tired.  I felt like I had given over and above to the busy teenage schedule.  I was feeling selfish and overwhelmed and unappreciated.  I came home and just wanted to be care free for a while.  To not have to figure out another schedule for another day.  I certainly was not up to bridge building.  So when she asked and I questioned, I thought I heard the voice of someone who thought I should be doing more.  I charged in with bombs of truth about respecting your parents, finishing your school, making wise choices with your time.   I threw my self-righteous bomb and retreated to the living room to snuggle up and tune out. 

      How quickly a well placed bomb can undo the foundation of a bridge.  It is far easier to produce a bomb than to engineer a bridge between us.  Bridges require foundations built with  patience, planning and Holy Spirit fruits.  Bombs just require a little truth that agrees with my flesh.  One constructs a path to the soul and mind of another and the other a clanging cymbal in a  noisy explosion.  And in my tired, flesh ruled mind , I chose the easier path.  And now a young mind is tempted to fume and fuss and build her own bombs.  Neither of us have to chose that path, for we can lean and wait and chose grace.  Far better for me would have been  to acknowledge my weariness and ask for reprieve until I could answer with truth and grace together, spanning the gap between.  Bridges can be built without truth , but they will not stand when flesh and flood change our minds and weary our frame.  Bombs can be built with truth or with long simmering bitterness but the end is usually the same.  Destroyed connections, foundations cracked and love distorted.  Sometimes a bomb is necessary when destroying world systems, but not individuals.   And bridges built on truth, though not always traveled upon, are open for one heart and mind to make the journey to another.  It is a place to meet in between the hard and fast  sin scorched shores.

       Jesus bombed the religious system and its people as a whole, throwing truth accurately and precisely at the sinful thinking that stole the heart of His people.  We seldom have such holy motive, clear vision and accurate aim.  But individually in the secret meeting at night, He offered life and forgiveness.  Bridges were his specialty, for he ate supper with people who did not share His truth.  He drove away those who would launch their law bombs at hearts that needed to hear truth kindly spoken and see holy relationship in action.  He spent three years building bridges to hearts that would need to carry on his engineering ministry.   Even when they erred, he spanned the gap with truth built on that relationship he had taken time to forge.  He called  it sowing.   And He chose to build a cross shaped bridge to anyone who would thirst and hunger for  the water and the bread on the other side. 

Acts 17: 23-25

"For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you.

God that made the world and all things therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands;

Neither is worshipped with men's hands, as though he needed anything, seeing he giveth to all life, and breath, and all things; "   Paul (master bridge builder)

2015

TENTS AND TREES

                 

                Children grow, health wanes, hearts unite, relationships fail, and we become different people.  We do not see it happening until  one day we feel the aching knees, open the door to see the crying husband once our little boy, answer the call at midnight and hold the newborn granddaughter , or hear the words of timely wisdom escape our lips.  Sometimes the shifting, growing , change is realized when we find the fear we had is no longer there or a new fear comes in changing circumstances.  The fabric and content of our frail tents are changing into worn but sturdy canvas guarding the morphing contents of heart and soul and minds.

           I watched the seasons cycle round and round and did not comprehend  that my own orb would  blossom rich with life and fruit and new seed and then burst into colorful activity before it began to slow and dry and leave its legacy for new saplings to rake up and enjoy.  How did once strong arms become unable to lift the bale?  When did my heart give up the challenge of pleasing all and narrow in to pleasing One?  Why did our two divided and busy lives become one together,  tromping through crisis and frailty?  Where along the fence of our yarded lives did I become equipped for things I never would have thought my mind and heart able to take on?  His work is subtle even  in explosive bursts of crisis and joy.  We are changing and being changed, wore down and narrowed in.   The leaves may be drying but they are different in more ways than decay .  They are witnesses of the transformation, the power  and hope of change,  and the beauty of it too.  The crisis of shortened time concentrates our  work and releases us from future fear , to be and do what we were designed to do.  It prunes away the "maybe later" and leaves the "only now "  to speed our work and deepen it's meaning into posterity .  And it directs the life giving sap upward to make the eternal more important than the now.  I do not see it happening any more than I can watch a child build height and grow hair by watching closely.  But one day I open the album and see where they were and compare the images to the child before me and see the change.  And so I compare my thoughts, desires and responses in situations now and realize they have shifted since I first experienced the  unexpected challenges of life.   And it is nice when I feel the tent stakes holding fast the urge to panic and run, because they are driven a little deeper in the truth than they were when my tent was light and vulnerable.   And sometimes it surprises me that the baggage of past and hurt and shame is pushed to the side  in this place, and trust and hope and grace grow in the center now.  But with the strengthening growth come bigger winds and darker nights to test the heart and light growing in me.  And the tree is strongest, roots sunk deepest  when the cycle is ending and the leaves fall .  The tent is tattered but strong.   But it is the thought of the new dwelling and the eternal tree that does not cycle into decay, that keeps this tent on the ground, firmly fixed and full of hope and light.  

        II Cor 5: 1-5  For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.  Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling,  because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked.  For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.  Now the one who has fashioned us for this very purpose is God, who has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.

   2016

NEW LIFE

NEW LIFE

             The dark clouds have gathered and produced the cold, dampness of fleshly struggle and heavenly opportunity.  The storm clouds amass and seek to make us run for cover from thunder, lightning and rain, for it  appears that sin reigns here. Our days and months have been long, knees sore from prayer , and eyes wet from tears even while our hope remains fixed on Him.

    And then this ray of sunshine unexpectedly bursts out from behind the clouds and reminds us that He has not lost control or power over this world, our world.   Though messengers have come with news of brokenness, injury and loss, one messenger delivers joyful news.  "New life! " he cries.  Life that changes husband and wife into mom and dad, and Mom and Dad into Grandpa and Grandma.  Life that reminds us who is in control of the impossible, and who is the author of all life, spiritual and physical.  New life that He has made to show His power, to refresh Job and feed Elijah.  A grandchild sprung to life amidst the storm of life. Our hearts can turn from stormy dark clouds to the clear, powerful reminder that He can do all things and our hearts rejoice in the reminder of His power and His grace. For if He can create this life he can rescue and renew other lives. The good news messenger is welcome here and we find rays of  hope in this seed and light of joy in the expectation of birth. 

            This little life is hope and confirmation and joy to a broken family. Littlepink or blue soul begins bringing  light even though she has not  yet seen the light of this earth.  May he/she continue that work as the inward knitting ends and this  life enters our cloudy world.   Blessed are we among families for we have seen this great light and are reminded of His grace by the radiance of sun among the clouds. 

Then Hannah prayed and said,

“My heart exults in the Lord;
My horn is exalted in the Lord,
My mouth speaks boldly against my enemies,
Because I rejoice in Your salvation.
“There is no one holy like the Lord,
Indeed, there is no one besides You,
Nor is there any rock like our God.

I Samuel 2:1-2

Sept 2015

PAIN

    

    The megaphone was loud, amplifying the message I could not seem to hear without the pain that made me still and weak.    I always cry out to God when pain inflicts it's narrowed focus and helpless fear.  I sing, I pace, I wonder and sometimes rail, but always to Him.  He is often the only one listening in the darkness of night.  And that is when I resolve to obey, to redeem my pain free time for Him and when I see my sinful clutter most clearly.  But often at the break of day and the dull of pain, I forget the deal I made, my resolve weakens, and sinful clutter is blurry.  But this night was different.  I have resolved and I have found relief from pain without forgetting.  The appetites I had indulged in these weeks of stress and confusion seem clear and ugly still. 

     I could use the excuse of spiritual warfare and unending needs weighing down my spirit and wearing out my body,  for those are real in this particular season of life.  But I know that He has heard these before and does not accept any substitutes for His own word, His grace, his own people  and His ever listening ear to ease those burdens.  Because He knows the places to which I run, will only captivate and cover up and never free me to serve.  I could once again resolve without confession to do better and climb out of the pit on my own.  But I know He designed me weak enough to need others to hold up my weak  hands and mind after confession and resolve begin to wane.  But laying it out there to those who may think less, retreat, or accuse later is terrifying to this proud and independent heart.   After the triumphant cries of Easter, this fleshly struggle plummets my thoughts back to the reality of dying with Him and what it looks like this side of incorruptible and immortal.  IF He had not shown me through similar cycles that this battle is necessary and common to those who chose to follow, I would lose resolve and think myself still dead in Spirit.  But He reminds me that the battle, with wins and losses, is proof of the life that struggles to overcome flesh in His Spirit power. 

     One day He will not have to lift the megaphone of pain to clear my vision and strip me of independent thinking, for He will have given me a heart of flesh and clarify the mind of Christ .   Pain's purpose will be no more when he dries our eyes and fixes our heart permanently on Himself.  No more need of excuse, no more night to force us to look up and no more losses,  for the victory will be real and constant.   But for now, I struggle though not alone.

Romans 8:18  For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.