Birthday Blessings

Birthdays and family go together in my mind, so living so far from each is often hard for me. Yet in 2009, I got to spend my birthday with Brent, Becky and Little Stuff. Today, Dave and I are celebrating my birthday in Miami with Bryan. We're also here watching the guys' soccer team at Westminster Christian. They won their district championship on Friday and play in the regional quarter final game on Thursday. While Maryland digs out after the snow storm, Bryan, his dad and I can enjoy the overcast skies but 70-degree weather. The gift of family and friends outshines any other gift. 

After worship together today, seven of us, including friends from Bryan and Stacey's small group, went to lunch at the Titanic, a Miami microbrewery, similar to Ram's Head in Annapolis.  We know all these friends and enjoyed a great lunch after church.

My personal reading for today took

me to Psalm 21-25.  In addition to the beloved Shepherd's psalm and the psalm of Christ's agony on the cross (22),  I honed in on Psalm 25. "Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long. Remember, O Lord, your great mercy and love, for they are from of old." That seems like a great birthday card from the Lord. I ask that this year the Lord may continue to show, teach, and guide me. The beautiful assurance I have from asking Him lies in the hope He gives me in His mercy and love.

Traveling Light

Fifteen months ago Dave and I started downsizing as we planned our move to the cabin. Truth be told, we still need to have a huge yard sale in Arnold this spring to continue the process. After having lived in that same house for thirty years, stuff apparently grew, especially in the basement. I faced the problem again today when I began to pack for a 10-day trip to Miami. Wanting only carry-on luggage, we packed, unpacked, and repacked, all in an effort to get everything into two small suitcases, my purse and the computer case.                                                                                                            It seems to make sense to travel light in other areas of life too. What about the emotions that we can carry with us as excess baggage? People may hurt us, speak badly of us, injure us, but all without malice. We really aren't always careful in dealings with other folks. Our clumnisiness or insensitivity can do so much harm. So in my packing, I need to stop swinging the words and actions around without thinking about those I may hit. But as well as hurting others, we've also been the recipients of others' hurts. Have we taken inventory lately? And after the assessment, are we willing to jettison some debilitating emotions and travel light?

Scripture speaks, telling us to "Put away" and "Get rid of" a variety of baggage: pride, lust, anger, bitterness, rage, slander, hatred, discord, jealousy, selfish ambition, impurity, witchcraft, and as Paul summarises in Ephesians 5, "along with every form of malice." As I think back over my own life and the lives of those I've counseled, I think we'd all do well to think about getting rid of baggage and traveling light. When I carry the emotional baggage Scripture speaks of, I harm myslef and I bang into others around me. How long will someone's comment to me or treatment toward me jade my life? I have found that allowing my mind to replay those hurtful incidents adds more baggage. I found that telling the Lord, rather than retelling the tale to other friends and family allowed God to pry my fingers off the pain. "Take my yoke upon you and learn of Me," provided wise counsel. I even told one friend we could get together but a particular topic was off limits. Amazing things happened. We branched into topics related to our families, our own spiritual areas of growth and emerging interests. We laughed more when together and gained a lighter heart. Life's too short to stop talking to friends and family members over something that neither of you can really remember clearly. And if the baggage comes from habits of jealousy or anger, that weight pins us physically, emotionally and spiritually. Packing for a simple trip made me think of things I've shuffled off and things that don't need to contniue with me in this life journey any longer.   

Cherish Being Forgiven

On this snowy day,  I have just finished reading a novel dealing with abortion and an article dealing with divorce. The whiteness outside reminds me of Isaiah's words, "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow."  No wonder I have forgiveness on my mind today.

When I think of my counseling years, I remember the deep pain for those involved in both abortion and divorce. When reconciliation doesn't occur, slipping into anger, resentment, bitterness and judgment come all too easily for us. And when these emotions demand center stage on our heart, we engage in a powerful spiritual battle.

To square off biblically, we must make a choice to put away any and all debilitating baggage. Colossians 3 says, "But now you must rid yourselves of..." Galatians 4 talks about returning to weak and miserable principles and asks, "Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again?" I Peter 2:11 says, "I urge you as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires which war against your soul." And the writer of Hebrews reminds us of Jesus' example. "Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart." The work, and make no mistake, it is work, of choosing to put away pride, resentment, bitterness, shame, anger, and judgments requires consistency, prayer and dying to self. One thing that helps us in the daily assults involves NOT reciting a litany of personal griefs to others, but taking those hurts to God Himself. As we tell our heartaches to the Lord, we learn to cherish more deeply what it is to be forgiven by God.

After we read the list of "get rid ofs" in Ephesians 4:31, we must think about the depth of forgiveness God graciously granted us. "Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you." A quote from John Piper helps us put this in perspective: "You can go on holding a grudge if your faith simply means you are off the hook. But if faith means standing in awe of being forgiven by God, then you can't go on holding a grudge. You have fallen in love with mercy. It's your life."

As we daily make choices to put away the attitudes that hold us captive, and meditate on the depth of grace that has, through Christ's shed blood, forgiven us everything, we pray for an increase in trust. God cannot be pleased when we hold to our hurts or judgments. When we do, we really convey that we don't trust His justice to prevail. Romans 12:19 couldn't state it more clearly. "It is mine to avenge; I will repay." We may want to pound the gavel and insist on our pound of flesh and our timetable, but God plainly tells us to allow room for His wrath. And as that process known as sanctification kneads itself into our soul, we begin to trust that God's purpose in all the hurt or embarrassment of the situation has been to transform the most difficult, ugliest parts of our life into something for our good and His glory. The griefs from the trials "have come so that your faith -- of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire -- may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed." I Peter 1:7

Seeing Through the Fog

I looked into the pea soup of fog out the kitchen door and snapped the photo. The weather seemed to capture the lost clarity of January: Haiti's tragic earthquakes, people laid off work, hearts seemingly harden to God's call, husbands and wives struggling with their wedding vows. After a  friend moved to Arizona, he found his SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) greatly relieved by the sunshine that blankets that state. Meanwhile, we in this area seem to live in the grey of winter.

Winter needs encouragement from sources outside the weather, or depression can steal in as quietly and pervasively as the fog. So how do we read -- and live -- beyond the written "moans" of Facebook and Twitter statuses? beyond the anguish of Haitian survivors' images on CNN and Fox? beyond the possibilities of a lost home or marriage? So often, the perspective of hope, once infused into a situation, melts the fog. No, not instantly, but the murky clouds start to lift.

We watched victims of the earthquakes sing and praise God they were alive, recovery teams from a myriad of countries working tirelessly to free survivors buried in rubble for over a week; tired but smiling Haitian orphans arrive in Pittsburgh. With each individual found alive, each rescue worker offered water, or each piece of red tape cut so children could leave Haiti and be adopted by parents here in America, the fog lifted a bit. Even closer to home, we may observe a couple beginning to work on their marriage or extended family making provision for those without work or a place to live. The sun may only wink from behind the clouds breifly, but the fog dissipates a bit more. True hope lies in looking up and catching sight of the Son as the hope we need most. Perhaps the fog descended just so we would look up.

Monday Meditation

Our pastor continued his "Battling Unbelief" sermon series yesterday, talking for a second week about bitterness. When attitudes such as anger, bitterness, anxiety, pride, shame, or impatience cripple a believer, a key to healing lies in taking a biblical pill. The often hard-to-swallow medicine allows Scripture to illuminate an area where we battle unbelief. Every belief we hold dear jumps off the inert page of ideas or facts in our head and lives in the appetites of our hearts. Either we fasten these appetites to Christ in a quest for satisfaction or  turn from Christ to seek satisfaction in someone or something else.
For example, when pride subdues us, we exemplify a deep form of unbelief. We really turn from God and seek satisfaction in self. Maslow's pyramid calls us to self-determination and a self-exaltation that dates back to Eden.  James 4:6-8 teaches that the opposite of pride involves submitting to God. The fight for humility does not mean beating up on self in a series of self-deprecating verbal or physical blows. We engage in a battle with the wisdom of the full scope of Scripture. Romans 12:3 gives us a balanced weapon for the battle. " For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: 'Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you'." Sober judgment involves the measure of faith God has given.
Anxiety often rides in tandem to pride. Pride does not want to admit anxiety: stress perhaps, but not anxiety. But I Peter 5:7 teaches me this: "Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." We can now begin to cherish the privilege of fellowship with God, the One who asks us to cast stress, cares, anxities, all on Him. Beginning to avail myself of the When we have a relationship with Christ, by grace, we can admit the need for help. Pride will not, cannot do this. In this battle with unbelief, we begin to see that real faith loves for God to be God. Jeremiah 13:15-16 reminds us: "Hear and pay attention, do not be arrogant, for the LORD has spoken. Give glory to the LORD your God before he brings the darkness, before your feet stumble on the darkening hills."
We can take heart whether the current struggle involves our pride, anxiety, covetousness or any other fallout from our broken world. Seeing the battle as one of unbelief sends us back to the captain of our souls, the one who can arm us because He is the prefecter of our faith.

Heart for Haiti

This morning my eyes moved from Fox's TV images of Port-au-Prince to my digital frame photos of Stacey and Bryan when they went to Haiti last year on a medical trip to the photo I took when trying to bring Little Stuff home with us after Christmas!
 Thanks to technology, we have received word that the missionaries we know who currently serve in Haiti have escaped injury from the devastating earthquake that rocked PAP on Tuesday evening. Initially, two women from our church's college and career group went to serve as missionaries in Haiti. Although we haven't journeyed to Haiti in years, a part of Dave's heart has stayed in that island nation since he first visited with Jerry McFarland in 1987. Dave and I returned in 1988 so I could experience malaria first hand; we made later, healthier trips; and Dave took each of our sons on his own father-son mission trip to Haiti. Our first two missionary friends introduced us to others serving in PAP, among them, a single woman from Ohio who chose to adopt 12 Haitian children, and an American music teacher whose Creole fluency amazed us. He and one of the missionaries eventually married each other and have stayed in Haiti. More recently, one of my former students, his family, and parents work at the Baptist Mission.
Even before a 7.0 earthquake hit, Haitian life represented chaos and deprivation. Since all education is private and costly, illiteracy abounds, as does disease, superstition, vodoo, and poverty. My heart aches for the people of Haiti, and my Irish ire fumes when I hear people say that Haiti deserved this judgment from God. When leaders of Jesus' day tried to trap Him, he told a bit of history about the tower in Siloam. As Luke 13 records it, Jesus faced those who quickly wanted to access blame for a catastrophic event. "Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. Jesus answered, 'Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish. Of those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.'” Obviously, Jesus' message warned each listener to take inventory of his own soul and not to judge others' circumstances. As always, Jesus' wisdom speaks to every age.

Expediency Over Faith

I've just finished reading the life of Abraham, as told by Moses in Genesis 12-25. Repeatedly, expediency dictated the patriach's choices. Shortcutting God's promise of an heir, Abraham took Sarah's bad advice to have a son by Hagar, her handmaiden. After all, God had promised to give Abraham descendants as numerous as the stars, and at the tender age of  99, he remained childless. The resulting two offspring, Ishmael and Issac, founded the Arabs and the Jews respectively, two nations that live as enemies to this day On two occasions, with two different kings, Abraham tried to pass Sarah off as his sister instead of his wife. Even though the ruse failed the first time, he used it again. Repeating a sin --something I can surely relate to in my life.

Reading of Abraham's failure to learn brings more than a knowledge of biblical history. When I gear myself up for a quest that has to happen in my time frame, I often run a muck! Whether the issue involves the time to start a family, complete a degree, change jobs, have surgery, or retire, I too often grab control rather than depend on God's sovereignty. According to the dictionary, expediency "usually implies what is immiediately advantageous without regard for ethics or consistent principles." Perhaps I'd do well to look at God's creation this snowy winter and realize that nothing I do changes the rate at which He melts the snow. I may have plans, meetings to attend, doctor's appointments scheduled, but He asks me to simply have faith that He has all things in His sovereign control. Then, instead of manipulating things for the sake of expediency, I can trust that He does all things in His time. Like Abraham, I still have lots to learn.

Nestled in This Winter

Out for his afternoon walk to the mailbox, Dave took this photo of our log cabin nestled in about three feet of fresh snow. The majesty, soft beauty and frigid temperatures lure Dave outside and keep me inside. The heat generated from the logs in our two gas fireplaces keeps me comfortable. The invigorating winds and natural beauty attract Dave's attention outdoors. Having the two worlds available works for us both! Have you ever thought about where you nestle in or what makes you secure and comforted? I first looked outside when I considered the question. The cardinal in the photo seemed nestled down in this snowy branch too. He posed for several pictures, absolutely unaware of the camera inside the house.

I think that the comfort of nestling comes best when I settle into a steady reading of scripture. The solidity of biblical truths always sustains me despite the current circumstances  in my life. And God faithfully shows me things I've missed in other readings. This year I have decided to use the ESV and read three chapters six days of the week and five chapters on Sundays. A cross reference today took me from Genesis to Joshua to establish that Abraham's father worshipped idols. Abraham did not begin his life nestled in a God-fearing home. Yet God called him, and, in faith, Ahram believed God. Why not nestle into the Bible this year and read? No great comfort exists!

More on Music and Rests

Each January we all probably tackle clutter somewhere --in the house, the mind, the garage. While I edited my Christmas card list on this snowy Friday, I ame across a get well card I'd saved from my summer 2007 surgery. A friend had sought out this quote and copied it into the card. The wisdom of Ruskin's comments again gave me pause. Perhaps you'll take the time to ponder the words and allow the Lord to apply them to your current circumstances.

Quoted by Elisabeth Elliott from John Ruskin:


“There is no music in a rest, but there is the making of music in it. In our whole life-melody, the music is broken off here and there by ‘rests,’ and we foolishly think we have come to the end of time. God sends a time of forced leisure –sickness, disappointed plans, frustrated efforts – and makes a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our lives and we lament that our voices must be silent, and our part missing in the music which ever goes up to the ear of the creator. How does the musician read the rest? See him bet time with unwavering count and catch up the next note true and steady, as if no breaking place had come between. Not without design does God write the music of our lives. But be it ours to learn the time and not be dismayed at the ‘rests.’ They are not to be slurred over, not to be omitted, not to destroy the melody, not to change the keynote. If we look up, God Himself will beat time for us. With the eye on Him, we shall strike the next note full and clear.”

It Wasn't a Silent Night

On December 23, Little Stuff got the bug of '09 as she, Grandpa and I drove to Augusta; she promptly  unloaded her previous meals, snacks  and juices all over inside the Jeep. Grandpa managed to find a safe spot to pull off the road, and we began using the paper towels for the mop up operation. I held a shivering, sobbing little girl in my arms as I stripped her down and changed her into warm clothes. Grandpa used layers of towels to make the car seat a decent place to sit because we still had 45 minutes to go on our trip.

Following the domino effect, I got the bug next, and Gran Davenport had it by Christmas afternoon. What do you do when months of expectations for a Georgia family gathering from Massachussetts, Maryland, and Hawaii collide with the flu? Readjust! At various stages of the blah's, we all manage to get to the 5 PM candlelight service and then on to the Japanese restaurant, a family tradition on Christmas Eve. Some of us enjoyed small bites of only white rice that night, but we all were there. We arrived home and saw an empty manger that Gran Davenport had created. The next morning. we all saw this baby doll and talked about Jesus' birthday.

As I thought about feeling lousy as a result of a simple "bug," I considered the fact that Mary probably suffered terribly, crying out as her labor pains came, not in a hospital, but amid the cold night air. A frist delivery in a hostile environment -- no midwife there to bring her aid and comfort. No, it was anything but a silent night where all was calm. It was, however, a labor of love, as the God of the universe became one of us, to live and die for His called children....and that amazing love will always be the hallmark of Christmas.