We wait for the glory…

 

Ā 
Ā 
ā€œThe creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealedā€¦ā€ and we waitā€¦groaning inwardly, as we wait eagerly for our adoptionā€”the redemption of these bodiesā€¦(Rom.8:19) these bodiesā€”transient containers that give outā€¦ I sit in the Alzheimerā€™s ward babysitting (or was it visiting?) my dad. Ā Ā 
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Heā€™s sacked out on a recliner, asleep, or approximately so, dead to the world, almost.
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ā€œBut if Christ is in you, your body is dead because of sin, yet your spirit is alive because of righteousness.ā€ (Rom.8:10)Ā 
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These verses Iā€™m committing to memory seem so apropos in this context.Ā  Somewhere inside this failing body waits a spirit, waiting to be released to Life unencumbered, the glory of the sons of Godā€¦
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A grown daughter passes hurriedly, tearful after spending several hours with her incapacitated mother. ā€œIā€™ve gotta go. Iā€™ve gotta get out of hereā€ she mumbles as she heads for the door.
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If my dad could speak, is this not what he would say?Ā  Oh to be delivered from this body of death.Ā  But mutely he sits, eyes downcast, drugged senseless, Ā this man whose genes I have inherited, who has passed on this life I carry in my veins, and indirectly, this Life I carry in my soul.Ā  His God has become my God.Ā  And we both wait for that which is to come.Ā  He lingers in this ignoble, humble fashionā€”helpless, prodded awake, fed, changed, babied.
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Around him mumbling, stuttering graying folk sit in stupors or uttering snatches of disjoint conversation, meaningless except perhaps in the recesses of distant memories.Ā  Others socialize in endless rounds of polite conversation. Who can make sense of it?Ā 
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But then we make our shuffling pilgrimage to the little chapel down the hall.Ā  Mom sits at the piano. We kids take our seats on either side of Dad and we sing a medley of treasured old hymns:Ā 
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ā€œIt is well with my soulā€…
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ā€œā€¦when darkness veils His lovely face, I trust in His unchanging grace.Ā  When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stayā€¦ā€¦On Christ the solid Rock I standā€¦ā€
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ā€œMy Jesus I love Thee, I know Thou art mineā€¦ā€ our voices blend surrounding Dad, giving voice to his soul, calming and comforting him, and ourselves. ā€œIā€™ll love Thee in life; I will love Thee in death.Ā  Iā€™ll love Thee as long as Thou givest me breathā€¦ā€Ā 
Ā 
Tears overtake my singing for a moment.Ā  But there is sense, and hopeā€¦ā€™the Spirit helps us in our weakness.Ā  We donā€™t know what to prayer as we ought but He intercedes for us with groans that words cannot expressā€¦ā€™ Rom.8:27-28
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ā€œAnd he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with Godā€™s will.ā€ (Rom.8:29)
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The wait is not forever and in my heart I concur with Paul, ā€œI consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.ā€ (Rom.8:17,18)
This too shall pass. The best years are yet to come. Ā Together we wait.
Ā 
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–LS
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Are You Humble Enough to Be Care-Free?

Iā€™m spending the week with the grandkidsā€”doing a lot of Lego, swinging, reading, and a lot of being an appreciative audienceā€¦ which leaves just a little time for reflecting, and most of those thoughts are on parenting.

It occurs to me that one profession bound to aid the disciple of Jesus along the path of humility is parenting!  Maybe not at first.  They are so cute, so clever, so perfect, so OURSā€¦ Then comes reality.  Of who we are, of who they are.  Yes, cute. Yes, clever. But no, not any more perfect than us.  And we pray, ā€œLead us not into temptation.  Deliver us from evil.ā€ And HELP!!! we havenā€™t what it takes to do this job!  Rescue us from our messes! This starts in the toddler years but does it ever end?  this need for a  Saviour?   Not yet for me.  I only hope to learn to pray in the process.

Iā€™ve been thinking a lot about prayer these days, wanting to get back to the simplicity of it and shake off tradition and formality. Ironically that brings me back to the prayer Jesus gave as a model:

“Our Father in heaven, Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heavenā€¦” I havenā€™t really gotten past that yet.  Though this verse has been construed to mean strange unBiblical things, its essence is a request that God be glorified, that His will be done in every facet of our lives between birth and the graveā€¦. It implies a relinquishment of my will in submission to His, not primarily for my benefit, but for His Kingdomā€™s sake.  I often find prayer stressful, coming as I do with my urgent desires (and sometimes my perceived solutions which I have no means of attaining on my own).  But though God welcomes our petitions, prayer is not a twisting of His arms or an asserting of my rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for me and mine (or any other good thing).

My best counselor and friend (my husband!) reminds me again and again that prayer is about aligning our wills to God’s, not about asking, begging or demanding anything. It’s not about getting everything in order in my sphere but rather reorienting my will to be His will, submitting my will to His.

I’ve been noticing this thing about ‘wills’ lately. Parents of toddlers have fresh object lessons ever before them but sometimes I forget how much my own will hates to be thwarted. When I insist that someone do something, anything, the way I see best, it’s ME that is made miserable (or at the very least irritated) when that someone doesn’t align their will with mine. Their ‘obstinence’ (really the exercise of their free will) thwarts my will. The result: conflict, agitation, unrest, (and maybe a spanking?!).

When I do this in prayer, the results are similar. 

But the instant I let go my insistence that the other person do what I want, there is relief. With a toddler of course a parent must win these wars. Between adults, and grown children,  and ultimately God,  the outcome is less predictable. Will I surrender or insist? With surrender comes relief. The mounting stress is gone! I don’t have to be in control. Maybe I do know what’s best for the other person, and then again, maybe I don’t. My perspective is so limited, so short term. Either way, letting go the need to control is such a relief.

Iā€™m wanting to find this relief in the way that I pray. When my greatest desires seem thwarted, the outcomes not my ideals, can I just cast them in Godā€™s lap and let Him determine whatā€™s best? What might He want in this situation?  Am I willing to hand my messes over to Him and trust Him with the long term possibilities to work in all things for His Kingdom purposes and His own greatest glory? I gravitate to Cinderella storiesā€”with their happily-ever-after endings. Life seldom dishes such out, at least not till seen through the lens of eternity. 

But we are told to pray, to cast cares, to trust and to seek Godā€™s Kingdom above any agendas of our own, His Kingdom and His righteousness.

There may be a lot of humble floor-scrubbing before the prince comes to redeem His own. But it will have been worth the wait.  In the meantime we pray: Thy will be done on earth, in our lives, in our families, in our communities, in our world.  And we present ourselves, His subjects to do His bidding, and to leave the results to Him. 

ā€œThen the seventh angel blew his trumpet, and there were loud voices in heaven, saying, ā€œThe kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever.ā€ And the twenty-four elders who sit on their thrones before God fell on their faces and worshiped God,  saying, ā€œWe give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty, who is and who was, for you have taken your great power and begun to reign.ā€ Rev.11:15-17

–LS

The title of this post comes from a  sermon transcript by John Piper that so ā€˜hit the spotā€™ for meā€”the concept that casting our cares on God is an act requiring and exhibiting humility, the prerequisite for being care-free.  Interesting premise drawn from I Peter 5.  Have a look and/or a listen here:

http://www.desiringgod.org/resource-library/sermons/are-you-humble-enough-to-be-care-free

Peace in Processā€¦

I am a homebody.  I am happy in my ā€˜pumpkinā€™.  I feel safe here, and useful, and competent.  I know the routine.  Iā€™ve been making meals for us for nearly thirty years.  I make bread and cookies too.  I donā€™t iron but I do laundry, and I vacuum and once every few months I may even dust something or sweep a cobweb from a cornerā€¦Itā€™s not the height of excitement being home, but life is meaningful and predictable, pretty much, and peaceful.

Intruding into that sameness come appointments:  Dentist visits.  Eye doctor check-upsā€¦regularly scheduled commitments, the odd ā€˜occasionā€™ or eventā€¦ and my routine is jostled.  My insides flutter. Peace gets flustery.  Iā€™ve always been somewhat this way, easily put off kilter.  But I thought with the wisdom and perspective of age, I would out-grow such nervousness. It seems quite the opposite.  And Iā€™ve been wondering why?

Could it be, Iā€™ve  become confident in a realm I can handle most of the time on my own steam?  And have forgotten that all my competence comes from the Lord and  that for every breath and every day I am dependent in reality on Him?  Could it be that my ā€˜peaceā€™ is more dependent on my feeling ā€˜in controlā€™ than on any conscious dependence on God?

As March  rushes to a finish, this homebody too is changing pace.  Lord willing by weekā€™s end weā€™ll be sitting on the old familiar ferry with bags in tow, heading out for the long drive to visit the grandkids for Easter week.  Wonderful prospect, but first the anticipation, the getting ready, the upheaval of changeā€¦ Then comes an additional twist to our plans.  Tacked to the tail-end of this trip will be a flight on my own to Alaska for a last-minute ā€˜reunionā€™ with family while life and sanity remain.  My dad is failing.  My mom needs her kids to come and see him ā€˜one last timeā€™ while he may still be mindful of usā€¦.

Why do my insides roil at the prospect?  Why does anxiety rise in the face of change?  My sense of being in control is threatened; is that it? Am I only at peace when I feel all the variables are under my control?!  Thatā€™s pretty delusive.  Since when is maturity about gaining competence that lets me think Iā€™m ok on my own and no longer dependent on my Father? 

An array of fears that now seem so little  used to drive me to prayer and conscious God-dependenceā€¦getting behind the steering wheel, for instance.  I remember too the grace that carried me beyond the safety of my closed little community to a distant place with the strange sounding name of ā€œAlbertaā€ for my last year of high school.  Shy little me was the least likely of my childhood friends to have done such a thingā€”but for my adventurous mom, the mother with big dreams that had anchored her own to stay home and raise her kidsā€¦She had this vision for me and passed on the God-confidence to make it come true, even for me. Little did I know how life-changing it would be, or that one day visiting Alberta would be about visiting my grandbabies, who were all born there!

So as I book flights and make lists and take steps to avoid last-minute rushes, Iā€™m consciously committing myself again to Godā€™s care, asking HIs guidance in the details, and counting on Him to carry out His purposes in this too for His glory!

–LS

Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God. II Cor.3:5

Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting. Ps.139:23,24

You will keep him in perfect peace, Whose mind is stayed on You, Because he trusts in You. Is.26:3

In Good Hands

I enjoy a good biography, at least most of the time.  But there are times they get me in trouble.  Take this week for example.  There I was, actually sitting in the SUN out back (Imagine it!) hoping the rays would be warm enough to fend off the chillā€¦and I was just starting an old biography of Hudson Taylor.1  Iā€™ve read it before but wanted to refresh my memory after seeing a Taylor quote elsewhere that  I really liked (which will follow here shortly)ā€¦

So I was lounging in the sun hoping to snatch a few minutes of late afternoon Vitamin D, reading about this icon of evangelistic zeal. His ā€œFirst Steps of Faithā€, as the second chapter was titled, were to leave the comfort and refinement of his privileged upbringing to move into a squalid neighborhood on the edge of a sewage drain ditch so as to 1) have more money to give away, besides more opportunity! and 2) toughen himself up in preparation for going as a missionary to China.  All the while, he held down a job and used his evenings to evangelize in these slums. Wow.  Is this a case of ā€˜deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow meā€™, or what?!  And suddenly I was feeling indulgent for relaxing in the sun while the world is going to Hell. 

I put that book aside and picked up the alternate biography I had brought along: Surprised by Laughter: The Comic World of C.S.Lewis.2 This oddly analytical study of Lewisā€™ jovial personality, being rife with quotes from Lewisā€™ life and works, breathes a welcome lightness into my natural sobriety.  Usually.  But the chapter at hand this particular afternoon was: ā€œJoy and Sufferingā€.   Not exactly the permission to relax that I was anticipating.  And yet, it rings true and is not altogether morbidā€¦The author speaks of a joy that is not void of pain but is made all the richer by it.  

ā€œDarkness, suffering, and longing are part of the very definition of joyā€¦the salt of joy is sorrow, a touch of tearsā€¦Joy is prepared for by suffering.  God accomplishes that preparation by interrupting our material and superficial happiness.  He shatters, through suffering, our illusions and pretenses that all is well.ā€3

As one who tends to think (mistakenly) there is more merit in denial of pleasure than enjoyment of it, I ate up these next words before heading back inside to get on with the duties at hand:

ā€œThe keenest pleasures and joys of life cannot be given us without interruption, simply because we tend to cling to them. Yet such toys are not meant to take the place of real treasures.  Joy comes only when the toys are put away.  However, we donā€™t want to put them away; and, more often than not, the toys must be taken from us.ā€ 4

Hmmā€¦ Iā€™ve always been suspicious of a good time.  Iā€™m warped, I know.  My distrust comes, I suspect, of hating disappointment.  Hating the ā€˜toysā€™ to be taken awayā€¦But it does seem that whether by my own choice or anotherā€™s, life will have pain. It will disappoint. 

I reflected on these things later in the weekā€¦ who of us naturally chooses hardship over pleasure?  deprivation over comfort? Should we? We have been raised in a culture of excess, of comfort, of self-orientation, yet as followers of Jesus we are called to deny ourselves, take up our respective crosses and be about His business. Where is the balance, the guiding principle? How do we keep from being lulled into a love of this worldā€™s ā€˜good lifeā€™ and rendered ineffective for the Kingdom?  On the other hand, how do I freely enjoy what Iā€™ve been given without clinging possessively or depending on it for my happiness?

I gave a little more attention to Hudson Taylorā€™s story as well.  There is more at play here than arbitrary pain, whether self-imposed, or regulated by factors outside our control. Hudson Taylor was not some ascetic hermit trying to gain merit. He was working toward the fulfillment of his lifeā€™s dreamā€”to take the Gospel to the people of China. And where did that dream come from? Who was the Mover and Shaker behind his life story? Who inspired and enabled him to train for hardship yet to come? Who gave him the grace to live out a story I lack the grace to imagine myself living?! God did. In fact, the quotation that drew me into reading his story again underlines all this. It caught my attention because I needed to hear it:

ā€œAfter months of agony and struggle to realize more life, holiness, and power in his soul, he [Taylor] came in final and utter self-despair to ā€˜rest upon the Faithful Oneā€™. In a letter to his sister he says in part:

ā€œThe sweetest part, if one may speak of one part being more sweet than another, is the rest which full identification with Christ brings. I am no longer anxious about anythingā€¦for He, I know, is able to carry out His will and His will is mine. It makes no matter where He places me or how. That is rather for Him to consider than for me; for the easiest positions He must give me grace, and in the most difficult, His grace is sufficient. So, if God place me in great perplexity, must He not give me much guidance; in positions of great difficulty, much grace; in circumstances of great pressure and trial, much strength?ā€ā€”Hudson Taylor5

This was Taylorā€™s ā€˜spiritual secretā€™ one Iā€™m glad he has shared. It is very like Paulā€™s claim:

ā€œI have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.ā€ Phil.4:11-13

The common denominator is Christ.  I can trust Him with the living out of both pain and pleasure.  I can trust Him to grant me joyful endurance in pain and gratitude in plenty.  I can rest content in what He allows, knowing He will use it for my good.  I can trust that He will instruct me in the use of what He entrusts to me, and will prepare me too for things to comeā€¦

I am reassured too by the parable Jesus told of the nobleman going into a far country to receive a Kingdom before returning.  He puts his various servants in charge of his holdings until he returns to set up his Kingdom, instructing them to ā€œOccupy till I come”. (Lk.19) Then upon his return he asks them what they gained by trading.  In other words, what did you do with my investments?  Whatā€™s reassuring about this?  Well, I havenā€™t always seen it this way but really all that heā€™s asking is that each servant make use of what heā€™s freely entrusted him with.  Each one of the servants had received something.  Each one was responsible to use that something, not to merely give it away because it was more than the other guy got.  Not to bury it and live in poverty.  Not to squander it on themselves.  But to be faithful in the use of it for their princeā€™s cause.

And if this is us.  If we are those servants, I must say, we have a distinct advantage in the form of the Counselor (Is.9:6; Jn.14:6) residing in us to direct our affairs!  Some stages of life and some necessary duties are more comfortable than others, but for each we have all that we need in knowing Christ.

And about the time I was wrestling with all these notions, Rachel came along to request help with her review of Never Give In,6 a biography of Winston Churchill, the prime minister that led Great Britain through the harrowing years of World War II.  Here was another life storyā€”one of rising to greatness through multiple hurdles, of overcoming difficulties in order to be able to confidently lead others to victory.  And imbedded in his story was this piece of advice for me, with which I close:

“Let us reconcile ourselves to our destinies, such as they must be in this world of space and time. Let us treasure our joys but not bewail our sorrows. The glory of light cannot exist without its shadows. Life is a whole, and good and ill must be taken together.” ā€“Winston Churchill7

Good advice I think.  Our destinies are in Good Hands!

–LS

ā€œBut by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which [was bestowed] upon me was not in vain; but I laboured more abundantly than they all: yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me.ā€ ā€“Paul I Cor.15:10

ā€œYou are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.ā€ I Cor.6:19,20

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1Hudson Taylorā€™s Spiritual Secret by Dr & Mrs Howard Taylor
2Surprised by Laughter by Terry Lindvall, Ph.D, Thomas Nelson Publ.,1996
3 Lindvall, p.65-67
4 Lindvall, p.66
5 Born Crucified by L.E. Maxwell, p.17-18
6 Never Give In by Stephen Mansfield, Cumberland House, 1995
7 Mansfield, p.145

 

He makes the bitter things sweet

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I had forgotten, or maybe never even noticedā€¦I sat transfixed one morning  this week by words in an old journal, a little book dedicated to recording moments in the life of my last-born childā€¦

It was ten years ago this week that she had prayed after me a prayer asking that she might go to Heaven.  She had been frighteningly sick.  There had been nightmares.  Her big sister had prompted her to think of Hellā€”itā€™s real, and itā€™s not a nice place to end up.  And she had come to me days later to ask how she could be assured of Heavenā€¦

Funny, I had not remembered the association of these events. (She had never told me of her big sisterā€™s words until this very morning as we read ā€˜herā€™ book together.)  I had remembered the scary seizure, the slow coming back to us, the tangible relief in the household that night: ā€œItā€™s so good to hear Rachelā€™s voice again!ā€.  I had resented this traumatic interlude in our lives.  That I did remember.  But now, reading that only days later she had come meekly to ask the way to Heaven; this connection I had not seen.

How gracious God is to take the bitter things and make them sweetā€”to use them for good, and to do so even when we are not grateful.  I had feared for this child. She was born a stubborn oneā€”two weeks overdue and then despite being delivered in the comfort of our own home  bawling for all she was worth and not easily comforted. She was prone to fits of temper from a young age so that  I recognized long before she turned two that I had more than met my match.  This dogged will outstripped mine.  She was persistent. I easily cowed. 

But too, she was always the enthusiast shaker and mover among us.  She made things happen.  She insisted I try drawing an oversized Paddington bear so we could play ā€œPin the pocket on Paddingtonā€ for her birthday.  I had no idea I could recreate such a thing.  She brought it out of me and I marveled.

.PIC00016Pin the pocket on paddington

What was this child to become?  I used to wonder.  I read an entry tonight in her little book, where I was marveling at this oneā€™s ability to bring herself under controlā€”to determine a change of mind and carry it out by sheer will to do so.  ā€œIā€™m being braveā€ she said and her demeanor in the face of pain was transformed from hysterical pain avoidance to a resolute calm.
ā€œWowā€,  I had written, ā€˜this will of yours, directed toward doing Godā€™s will, will be a great asset for you.  The difficult part is channeling it for good and not as an occasion for the fleshā€”yelling, protesting, fussing, complaining and such.ā€ Then came a prayer: ā€œMay the Lord so mold your heart and strengthen us to be consistent and firm, so that you will grow to set your face as flint to do His will alone!ā€

And all the while, by His good Spirit, God was at work—molding that will, using the bitter things to bring sweetness. Sheā€™s just pulling into the driveway now; I better wrap this up. Where have the years flown?  My eye lights on this entry shortly before her 6th birthday and I quote: ā€œMom, after I grow upā€”and leave homeā€”and organize my homeā€”after a day or two Iā€™m going to come over and visit you.ā€ And there I had sat meditating on Psalm 90, reflecting on the remaining years I would have her, aware even then how short the years would beā€¦

The entry ended with: ā€œIt wonā€™t be long and youā€™ll be off and flyingā€. Ah, how true.  Today we filled out her application for Bible School. Iā€™m grateful tonight for the years, for the grace and for the bitter things God makes sweet.

Rachel chick

–LS

ā€œSo teach us to number our days, That we may gain a heart of wisdomā€¦

Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children. And let the beauty of the LORD our God be upon us: and establish thou the work of our hands upon us; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it.ā€ Ps.90:12,16-17

PIC00024Rachel 6thbirthday

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