Hound of Heaven

I want to share something that happened with you. It involves my son, but I want to protect his privacy, so some parts may seem a bit vague. Just know that he is going through the worst trial of his life and God is in hot pursuit.

During worship on Sunday the worship team was singing the song Fierce. If you don’t know it, it’s about God’s never-ending determination to bring us to Him.

So, I was just worshiping during the song until we got to the bridge.
YOU CHASE ME DOWN. YOU SEEK ME OUT.
HOW CAN I BE LOST WHEN YOU HAVE CALLED ME FOUND?

Suddenly, it was as if I was standing on my porch looking out at the road. I saw Jeremy running as hard as he could down the road. He kept glancing over his shoulder, so I turned to see what was behind him. I saw Jesus running after him at top speed. Then He caught up with Jeremy and literally tackled him. He was shaking and crying. Then Jesus pulled him up and into His arms and held tight to him while he cried.

It was one of the most powerful things I’ve ever seen, and I just melted. Jesus has been chasing Jeremy all his life. I understood immediately that this trial, with all its devastation, was the tackle.  It’s been the hardest thing for all of us, but Jeremy has been broken. Jesus is holding him tight until his healing is complete. They call Him the Hound of Heaven. Jeremy belongs to God. Bill and I gave him to Him when he was a newborn. He’s never going to let him go.

Philippians 1:6 says, “He Who began a good work in you will carry it onto completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” I’m trusting God to hold Jeremy tight until this is over and for all the days of his life. Bill and I are watching him from the sidelines as part of the “Great Cloud of Witnesses.” We will cheer him on and pray without ceasing for God to complete His work in him.  This and being available is one of the most important things a parent could ever offer their child. God alone can bring it to fruition.

About the Loaves

I think we’ve all had times when we’ve used the words “I’ve never” or even “It’s been a long time since…” and lived to regret it. Well, it’s something to consider. A week or so ago I shared when I spoke briefly at a women’s worship night that my greatest growth seems to come from my greatest trials. I also mentioned that it had been a while and I didn’t want to have to go through those types of trials again.

So here we are a little over a week later and we’re walking through a time of great difficulty. Yesterday before I left for Lilly’s tournament, I had a conversation with Bill that had me spending the first half of that hour long trip in tears. I said to God, “I just want to throw myself into someone’s arms and cry my heart out.” I don’t do that well. I think it has to do with pride and/or control. But it was okay, because He gave me a mental picture of Him standing with arms outstretched and saying, “I’m right here. Throw yourself into My arms and weep as long and as hard as you need to.”

He also reminded me of something that He had highlighted for me in Mark 6. It’s a wonderful chapter that includes many of the best stories about Jesus including the loaves and fish. Right after that, there was a storm and He came to the disciples walking on the water. He climbed into the boat and the wind stopped. This was the highlighted line, “They were completely amazed for they had not understood about the loaves.”

So here we are again in pretty much the same place as my last post. A lack of faith and/or trust. In the last three chapters, it tells how Jesus delivered the man possessed with many demons, raised Jairus’ daughter from the dead, healed the women who had been bleeding for twelve years and fed five thousand men plus their wives and children with five loaves and two fish. This all happened in just a few days, and still they were amazed that He could calm the wind because THEY DIDN’T UNDERSTAND ABOUT THE LOAVES.

I found myself wondering what exactly they didn’t understand, because if I understood, perhaps I wouldn’t struggle with doubt or let myself get beaten down by circumstances. Did they not understand that everything on earth was under His control? Or was it that they didn’t understand that He would always provide for His people. Perhaps they didn’t understand that it wasn’t a magic trick but a divine miracle. Or maybe that Jesus loved them all individually and would always intervene in their lives. Whatever it is, I don’t want to be in the same boat (pardon the pun) with the disciples. I want my faith and trust to grow in direct correlation to the work He’s doing in my life and the lives of those I love. If I had understood “about the loaves” all along, I would be a powerhouse of faith at this point in my life.

So my prayer is “Jesus, help me understand.” I’m tired of going under every time life (or the devil) throws me a curve ball. Don’t let the next storm find me floundering again. Open my eyes and let me see what they kept missing. Keep my eyes and my heart fixed on you so I won’t miss a thing.

Don’t Let Fear Get in the Way

Growing up, we had family devotions every night. We took turns reading, and the reader often read his/her favorite chapter. Consequently, I had several chapters memorized by my twenties. Someone’s (can’t remember whose) favorite chapter was Ecclesiastes 12. I loved it as well because of the lyrical writing. It was years before I learned that it was an analogy for old age and death.

Earlier this week, I was lamenting the fact that fear – my old nemesis – was trying to rear its ugly head. I have found myself desperately afraid for my grandchildren to do things that I had allowed my children to do as a natural part of growing up. I’ve dreaded taking trips – especially with the camper – because Bill’s driving terrifies me. His driving always scared me, but that fear has begun to take some of the joy out of traveling. I could go on and on, but I think you get the gist.

Suddenly, a line from that chapter in Ecclesiastes popped into my head. I don’t typically pull a single line out of a chapter, but I think it holds onto its context pretty well. The line says, “…and fear shall be in the way.” Quoting the King James Version (that’s how I memorized it), the whole sentences says, “They shall be afraid of that which is high, and fear shall be in the way.” As I spoke the verse aloud, I realized that this is exactly what fear does. It gets in the way.

Applying that line to even those two areas in which I’ve found myself fearful shows clearly what Solomon meant. Let’s take fear for my grandkids. If I allow that fear to get a grip on me, I will miss out on sharing wonderful adventures with them. For example, my whole family loves roller coasters, but when I see Lilly get on the Top Thrill Dragster, my stomach hurts. I could let fear get in the way and miss out on sharing something we both love with her, or I can climb aboard, hold her hand, and scream all the way down the big hill. In the same vein, Bill and I could consistently miss out on wonderful, relaxing camping trips because I’m too afraid to ride in the truck that pulls the camper.

Those examples are concrete, but there are so many ways that fear interferes in our lives. I can sit home lonely and bored because I fear rejection too much to invite someone for lunch. I can fail to build relationships with women in the church because I’m afraid that I won’t be able to talk to them or that I will end up getting hurt. I could miss out on a rich, fulfilling job because I’m afraid that I am inadequate for the requirements.

Finally, I can miss out on a ministry to which God has called me, because I’m afraid that I misunderstood or that God expects more than I can give, or people will think I’m stepping in where I have no right. And if I don’t step into that ministry because I am afraid, I will miss the reward that comes with allowing God to use me to change the lives of other people. Consequently, I will live a life of mediocrity for God when He desires so much more FOR me and FROM me.

The Bible is rich with admonitions to not be afraid.

• The Lord is my light and my salvation— whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life— of whom shall I be afraid? (Psalm 27)
• I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears. (Psalm 34)
• Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Be strong and courageous. (Joshua 10)
• The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again. (Romans 8)
• There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear. (1 John 4)

In the King James Version, the remainder of that last verse in 1 John 4 says, “Fear has torment.” I fought the battle with fear for too long not to recognize the truth of that statement. I refuse to allow the enemy to drag me back there again. For that reason, I use 1 Corinthians 10:5 to stand against it. This is my paraphrase, “I demolish fear and everything that exalts itself against the knowledge of God. And I take captive every “fearful” thought and make it obedient to Christ.

Don’t let fear get in your way, my friends. Take authority over it in every way possible, then walk into every situation with your head high and unafraid. If you can do that, you will enjoy a life worth living.

Extravagant

I’m on the last week of Priscilla Shirer’s Elijah study. I am unceasingly amazed at how I can have been so familiar with something for so long and still miss something important. Love that Rhema (living) Word.

This week the focus is on 1 Kings 18 and the battle between Elijah and the prophets of Ba’al – a story I’ve known since childhood. I knew that the prophets of Ba’al cried out frantically all day for the fire to fall and consume the sacrifice. I knew that Elijah built an altar with a bull for the sacrifice. I also knew that he drenched it in water and vaguely understood that this somehow strengthened the miracle that would happen when God rained His own fire and consumed it, including all the water in the trench that surrounded it. But I missed something about Elijah’s choice to cover the altar with water. Missed the fact that they were at the end of a 3 1/2 year drought and famine.

This is what Priscilla had to say. “Imagine the people’s disbelief, having lived every day for the last three years treating each drop of water as a precious commodity, now seeing it sloshed over the altar until it could hold no more.”

Priscilla had some excellent points to make regarding this, but God took me some place completely different. As I finished up writing that sentence in my journal, I found myself writing the word “extravagant” above it. As I wrote that last “t”, I felt the tingle that often accompanies the voice of the Holy Spirit, and recognized that when God instructed Elijah to drench the altar with water, He was once more displaying a characteristic of His nature. God is extravagant. He was extravagant when He created the world in all its myriad splendors. He was extravagant in His plans for the temple. He was extravagant in the Words He shared through His holy book, and He is extravagant in His gifts to us today. I have only to look at my children and grandchildren to see His extravagance in my life, but He is also extravagant with His presence. As I come before Him in my office, His generosity often brings me to my face before Him or finds me dancing with the delight of feeling Him with me. Even in our lack, God extravagantly pours His grace and favor upon us and sustains our life.

But that is only part of what I felt God was saying to me with that word today. God created us in His image and likeness. The phrase “spitting image” originated from the phrase “spirit and image.” That was God’s intention – to make us in His Spirit and image. And if that is true, then we should also possess the characteristic of extravagance, and we should be returning that extravagance back to the One Who so recklessly spends Himself on us.

I believe God desires us to be extravagant in our worship. (If you think that is not your personality, take a minute to remind yourself how you act when your team wins a game in a last minute, overtime score.) No one or nothing is more worthy of that kind of celebration and acknowledgement than the Lord of the Universe. If you’re not sure about how that works, spend some time in the book of Psalms and follow it’s patterns. Lift your hands, sing, dance, cry aloud, clap your hands, and let your tears flow. God adores this kind of extravagance.

I also believe that God desires our love for others to be extravagant. Not cautious and self protective but in generosity of heart and soul. There has never been and never will be a greater extravagance than the gift God gave of His Son. The most we can give is not a drop in the ocean to all that He has given us. Although this is not the main focus of my thoughts here. God longs for us to open our tight fisted fingers and give generously to those in need. We are surrounded by desperate people living desperate lives. Never more so than right now. We will never have a greater opportunity for extravagance in giving of both our finances and ourselves.

Finally, I believe God wants us to be extravagant in our commitment to Him. The world has made it seem right to put God far down on our list of commitments. I’m a bit hesitant to say this, but Sundays have become a perfect day for games and Wednesdays for practice. Our busy lives have caused us to feel that the weekend is our only time off and we’ve earned it. Surely God will understand that getting up early and spending 90 minutes of a beautiful summer day inside the walls of a church makes no sense. But an extravagant commitment will find us eager to go and spend time in His house with His people. Commitment is displayed by our actions. How else is He to know that we love Him?

I’m thankful that I serve an extravagant God. Thankful that He pours His favor out on me regardless of how undeserving I may be. I’m thankful that He is unrestrained in showing His love for me. I want this part of His nature to flow through me so that the whole world knows that there is no one like my Jesus.

Jesus- the Gift of Desperation

All my life I have had a passion for words. If you meandered your way through my journal, you would find words or phrases jotted down for further consideration. This phrase came from Beth Moore (my fellow lover of words). It popped up a couple of weeks ago and has been on my mind since. Jesus – the gift of desperation.

The first time I sat down with my journal and allowed my pencil to wander through that phrase, my focus was “how desperate is desperate enough?” I’ve recently spent more than three years in a difficult season where faith and hope seemed a distant dream. Everything was exhausting, and, were it not for the prompting of my heart telling me what I knew God required of me, I would have gone into extended hibernation. It has only been a couple of months since God reached down and drew me out of that pit and filled me with His joy and hope.

Here’s the thing. I felt that I was beyond desperate for the majority of that time. My office floor, my pillow, and myriad other places carry the salt of my tears as I lay on my face and begged God to rescue me. I would have a brief lifting of the weight and then find myself right back there almost immediately.

As I journaled that day, I found myself asking God, “What was different this time? Had I reached a new level of humility? Of faith? Or had You simply decided that THAT day was THE day?” It won’t surprise you that He did not explain, but I was so thankful that Jesus did indeed come to me in my desperation and that the answer to “why now?” didn’t really seem all that important.

My second time to come before God with this phrase, my thoughts took a completely different direction. I found myself wondering what I was desperate for. Desperate enough to seek God intensely and unfailingly with great sacrifice until it comes to pass. Desperate enough to fast, to turn off my electronics and lay down my books (my greatest weakness.) To stay on my face before him with much weeping. The Old Testament would refer to that kind of desperation as “with sackcloth and ashes.” What are the things that drive me there?

My first thought was my kids’ and grandkids’ salvation, but I decided it went much deeper than that. I am desperate for them to know Him – intimately in a way that changes the way they live their lives. I want them to love Jesus in a way that puts Him at the #1 position rather than more of an 8/10.

I am desperate for healing for Bill. He’s struggled so much for so long, I ache for God to take away his pain and heal his body. In that same arena, I am desperate for God to heal me from Parkinson’s and remove every single symptom.

There are other things on my list. Private needs of my family and friends that find me weighted down when I bring them to Him. But as I looked back over my list, I realized that those things that drive me to desperation are largely self focused. Not that I don’t pray for other things. I do and often. I pray for our church, our schools and our nation. I pray for prayer needs that are shared on Facebook. I pray for marriages of young couples I know or that are the children of dear friends. I pray for my extended family. But if Jesus is the gift of desperation, what will it take to make me desperate for those needs for which I merely pray.

Like most of you, I have carried the weight of the crisis of our nation. I pray every day and more than once for our leaders and the decisions they make. I think that we are closer to fragmenting than any time since the Civil War. But I can’t tell you that I lay on my face for extended periods crying out for God’s deliverance. My heart has been broken by all the losses that have come with Covid, and I have carried people to the heart of the Father. But have I brokenly and earnestly entreated Him faithfully to deliver us from this disease in a way that shows that I am desperate for His intervention? I thank God that I am not the only one praying for these needs.

I know that your desperate needs are different than mine, but I encourage you to pour out your desperation before Him. I also encourage you to make your own list and then see what God would have you add to it. Then pray in desperation, fast in desperation, lay yourself at His feet in desperation. If Jesus is the gift of desperation, then we need to be desperate so that God will pour out that gift on these overwhelming needs of our lives.

Best Advice I Ever Had or Be Prepared

A couple of weeks ago, I subbed in first grade at Galion City Schools. The primary building is built like spokes on a wheel all running off a central lobby. My classroom was, of course, the very last door on the left in a very long hallway. At one point, I had cause to walk that particular hallway three times in a row. On one trip back, I found myself thinking about my first principal and the most important things she said to me.

Stephanie was a tall, elegant former nun who always dressed quite dignified. She could give you the most effective up and down eye I’ve ever seen if she thought you weren’t dressed up to standard. As you can imagine, I got that eye more than once. Despite that, we got along well and were good buddies.

I remember the day she shared this important advice with me quite well. We were standing in the hallway chatting. After a bit, she said, “Judy, from all my years in education, the best piece of advice I can give you is…” At this point, I’m expecting something profound. She looked at me in complete sincerity and said, “always have an extra pair of shoes.” I remember looking at her and thinking, “She’s kidding, right?”  But I did take her advice, and after twenty-five years in education, I’ve come to recognize its value.

Over and over through the years, I have found myself making a trip down a long hallway with hurting feet thanking Stephanie Roarty for the advice she gave me that day. That switch from painful to comfy shoes had the power to change my entire state of mind along with the way I handled the challenges in my classroom. It also taught me the value of being prepared.

My thought processes that day led me to think about the most important area in which I need to be prepared. This may sound a bit generic, but I need to be prepared for life. It happens to all of us and includes a lot of possibilities. Life includes death, sickness, financial setbacks, failed relationships and more losses than I could possibly mention.

But how do I go about preparing for all those possibilities? I think you already know, but I’ll tell you anyway. Romans 8:38-39 says “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Did you notice that the second word in that verse was life? Actually, all the other items listed are under the umbrella of life. We can be prepared for all those eventualities if we choose to stay close to God and the love given us through Christ Jesus.

You might wonder if that is true. I can promise you that it is, because I have proven it over and over. In my 63 years, I have experienced abuse, the death of many family members, the loss of treasured relationships, betrayal by people I trusted, and financial setbacks that have nearly crippled us. With all of that, I am more than a conqueror through Jesus Christ.

There’s no doubt that more will come, because life is still happening. But I am prepared. Not through my own power or ability, but through the promises found in God’s Word. I prepare myself by kneeling before Him, dancing with Him, singing to Him and staying deep in His Word. When life leaves me bruised and hurting – much like my feet when I’m walking down that long hallway – the answer is waiting for me inside my office walls.  It is His love that lifts me, sustains me, restores and refreshes me.  I have His promise that nothing can separate me from Him.

So back to the beginning. When I reached the end of that painful journey down that long hallway, I changed into my comfortable shoes.  Then I stood up and walked across the room without pain thanking God for Stephanie Roarty – and Jesus!

Sweetest Gift or Just Like Me

I am a lover of words. No surprise there. What you may find surprising is that when my heart overflows with emotion, words are harder to find. Sometimes I doubt my ability to clearly express what is pouring from my heart. A few minutes ago was one such time.

A dear friend sent me a video earlier in the week. It was called “Meet Me on the Old Dirt Road.” It was a message from Karen Wheaton, a southern gospel singer and evangelist. The message was from Psalm 121. “I will lift up my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.” It was a message I sorely needed in that moment and the days since, but it is not what today is about.

When I sat down in front of my computer this morning preparing to spend time with God, a video popped up that I would have ignored a week ago. It was Karen Wheaton sharing her testimony – “What’s Behind a Yes.” The question struck me as I strive to say yes to wherever God is leading me. But it still had nothing to do with today. It was only a vehicle to draw me back to one of the most powerful and life defining moments in my life.

God called Karen to minister to youth long after her career as a southern gospel singer was flying high. In her sharing, she had a video of an altar service with youth who were running hard after God. About halfway through, there was a girl of about 8 –  9 who had her hands in the air and tears running down her face. In that moment, everything stopped for me. You see, that girl could have been me – the face, the hair, the freckles – and the hands lifted high with tears flowing free.

In that moment, God flew me back in time to another altar service that I was attending with my family. I was 7-8 years old. My family had all gone to the front of the church. I had stayed behind. Only in retrospect do I know why. I already had a strong relationship with God at that point, and going forward for altar time would have been a natural choice. It was not the choice I made, and I had no idea that God was the One charting my course in that very moment.

A few minutes after my family went forward, I found myself kneeling at that next to the last pew in that tiny church. I don’t know what I said or what I did; all I know is that the Holy Spirit settled upon me and filled me to overflowing with His presence. I had never experienced anything like it – before or since.

Oddly enough, I never said anything to my mother or anyone else – not until I was an adult. In fact, I would not recognize the power of that moment until I was coming out the other side of the abuse and digging deep into God’s Word. One Saturday afternoon while preparing to teach a women’s class on the Holy Spirit, I asked God this question. “Father, this whole Holy Spirit thing is so complex. Why would you give me this sweet Gift when I was too young to comprehend it?” His answer came to me with one of the most profound truths of my life. “I knew there would come a day when you could not receive father or brother, so I gave you a Friend to sustain you.”

And sustain me, He did. Through all the years of sexual abuse from my father and my brother. Through the soul-destroying years of growing up in an abusive home in which alcohol played a big part. Through a marriage that floundered year after year. Through a son on crystal meth. Through my own culpability in losing a church and people I loved desperately. Through losing my job for my faith.  He has sustained me. I have no words to describe the depth and sweetness of that relationship.

But as I watched that video clip today, I was pulled back into that moment. I experienced once more the delight of the Spirit overwhelming me. So much joy. So much peace. So much life. As I watched the tears flow down what could have been my face, I realized that I have lost some of the passion of that moment – the joy and abundant life that welled up within me preparing me for my future. Of course, the first part of that future had to do with survival – overcoming. But that future included this present time. This time at which I sometimes feel directionless, exhausted, and afraid. It was the Holy Spirit that sustained me, but it was that joy and passion that moved me beyond simply being sustained to walking in victory and freedom.

I remember that little girl well. I have often looked back and watched her struggles. But I have also looked back and seen her turning cartwheels through the yard and swinging as high and singing as loudly as she could just for the joy of being alive. This joy existed in a separate dimension from the horrors of her life and allowed her to be Who God wanted her to be despite the mess that surrounded her.

That Holy Spirit still lives in me. His joy, peace, and power are still available to me – regardless of the difficulties that living in this world may bring. I love Him – this Third Person of the Trinity. I also love the Father and the Son that He has taught me to know intimately. Today, since I don’t have a tree swing and I can no longer turn a cartwheel, I choose to dance before Him – just for the utter joy of being alive.

Jesus or the Grand Ole Opry

If you’ve read many of my posts, you’ll know that my mind travels a twisting and turning path that usually makes sense only to me. I’ll try to get you there from here. I was listening to someone on You Tube. I’m sad to say that I can’t remember who. Whoever it was said to the audience, “You’ll remember this one,” and began to sing the song “Put Your Hand in the Hand.” I had completely forgotten about that song, so I went in search of it. FYI – Anne Murray is the one who sang it. Anyway, I left You Tube playing and went to finish getting ready. From the Anne Murray version, it went to a version sung by several country music stars. I think You Tube is programmed a lot like my brain, because the next video was “Will the Circle Be Unbroken.” It had so many artists that I had to stop and watch it.

At the end of the song, I started to think about when I was young. I was an ardent Dolly Parton fan and wanted nothing more than to be a country music singer. I had endless conversations with my mother about all the reasons why that career would sabotage my walk with the Lord. I was not in anyway what could have been called rebellious. My need to please everyone as a result of the abuse wouldn’t have allowed that. However, I did want to change her mind about this. After much thought, I sat down and wrote a song called, “Someday I’ll Sing for Jesus on the Grand Ole Opry Stage.” When I think of that now, especially the length of that title, I laugh, but I was whole-hearted in my desire to convince my mother that Christian and country music singer went together.

God worked through that problem pretty quickly in a way that might have seemed counter-productive. I had the opportunity to go to a Dolly Parton concert. I loved the concert. I loved meeting Dolly and discussing similarities – we both grew up in poverty and with eleven siblings. But I remember standing there watching her surrounded by crowds of people with long lines waiting for a moment with her. In that moment, I met a part of myself I didn’t know existed – a need for privacy. I realized that I didn’t want to live like that. And, although there would be many more to come, the potential for heading down a wrong path in this situation was averted. God won the battle before it started.

As I watched those legends of country music that morning though, I felt a tinge of nostalgia for a dream that never happened. I thought again about that song and evaluated the life lived as opposed to the dream desired. I recognized that I had actually lived half of that dream. Obviously, I never sang on the Grand Ole Opry stage, but I did sing for Jesus. Like most singer “wanna be’s” I sang in church, but that isn’t what comes to mind.

For 25 years I sang for Jesus in a classroom full of kids who needed to know about Him. Over the past year – and again just Monday – I had grown students or parents of grown students tell me that they still had the CD I gave them for Christmas in first or second grade. It was a CD of songs we had sung through the course of the year. I recorded us singing songs like “He Knows My Name” and “I Cast All My Cares.” Every time they played that CD, they would be reminded of the fact that God loves them -that He’s always available – and God will remind them at just the right time.

I sang for Jesus in women’s prisons in Columbus and Marysville. I always started and ended the classes on dealing with sexual abuse with a song tied to the lesson. Surprisingly enough, one of those songs was “He Knows My Name.” The list also included songs like “The Anchor Holds” and “This Is How It Feels to be Free.” And if they contacted me when they got out of prison, I sent them a copy of a CD with those songs – so they would remember and hang onto the healing and the God Who loves them so much.

I remember again that foolish girl with a foolish dream and realize that she was perhaps not as foolish as I thought. Before her stood two roads – singing for Jesus or singing for the world. I think that Jesus would say of her choice as He said of Mary choosing to sit at His feet – “Judy has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

Yet or Great Is Thy Faithfulness

For a couple of weeks, three verses from Lamentation 3 have been on my mind. You may not recognize the verses – particularly in a translation other than the King James, but you will (if you’re old enough) recognize a hymn based on those verses. One of my top ten hymns – “Great Is Thy Faithfulness.” Here are the verses on which that hymn is based. “Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.”

I have no doubt read these verses in context more than once during my walk with the Lord, but they have not pierced my heart as they have in these last couple of weeks. The reason for that can be found in a single three-letter word at the beginning of verse 21. It’s easy to miss the importance of those single words in the Bible. Words like since, therefore, and because. Don’t be caught in that trap. Those words remind us to look at what came before, and there are great lessons to be learned in those connections. I’m going to give you a few of the sentences that came before that word “YET.”

• I am the man who has seen affliction by the rod of the LORD’s wrath.
• He has driven me away and made me walk in darkness rather than light;
• indeed, he has turned his hand against me again and again, all day long.
• He has made my skin and my flesh grow old and has broken my bones.
• He has besieged me and surrounded me with bitterness and hardship.
• He has made me dwell in darkness like those long dead.
• He has walled me in so I cannot escape; he has weighed me down with chains.
• Even when I call out or cry for help, he shuts out my prayer.
• He drew his bow and made me the target for his arrows.
• He has filled me with bitter herbs and given me gall to drink.
• He has broken my teeth with gravel; he has trampled me in the dust.
• I have been deprived of peace; I have forgotten what prosperity is.

Those are some powerful words to hurl at the God of the universe – even if your life has been full of hardship, which is true of Jeremiah. There’s a reason he was called “the weeping prophet.” There’s also a reason the book is called Lamentations. A lamentation is “the passionate expression of grief or sorrow,” and the book is full of that. Why would God include this in His inspired Word? I don’t pretend to know God’s thoughts about that exact book, but I do believe there is a single reason for every Word in that holy book. BECAUSE WE NEED TO KNOW.

From the book of Lamentations, we learn a powerful truth about God. “He’s big enough to take it!” When I share my story of sexual abuse with women in the prison or at the juvenile facility, they often ask, “Did you ever get mad at God?” My answer? “Absolutely!” I screamed and yelled at Him and questioned His love for me. And when the screaming and yelling were over, He held me in His arms and loved me to healing.

Bad things happen – even to people who love the Lord. Children die, cancer comes, houses burn. There are not too many who can stand under the weight of those kind of losses and not get emotional, and the first emotion we feel is often anger. It’s okay. Scream at God. Pound on His chest and tell Him it’s not fair. He can take it. And when you’re ready, He will pull you into His arms and pour His mercy out on you – every, single day!

These are Jeremiah’s words right before the ones spoken in the hymn.

“So I say, ‘My splendor is gone and all that I had hoped from the LORD.’” I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me.”

But directly following those words is the single, life-changing word “YET.” With that word comes the reminder of God’s love and that because of His love, I have hope. He is faithful. His mercy never fails. Every day I wake up to a new outpouring of His grace. But Jeremiah didn’t stop there. He went on to say, “I say to myself, ‘The LORD is my portion; THEREFORE, I will wait for him.’” The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.”

I emphasized a word in those verses – THEREFORE. It precedes an action of which few people are fond – waiting. But that word therefore refers us back to “The LORD is my portion.” For clarity’s sake, let me rephrase that. “Because the LORD is my portion, I will wait for Him.”

I don’t like waiting, but God has proven Himself to be worth it over and over. He is my portion, my provider, my strength, my song in the night, my strong and mighty tower, my rock, my shelter, and on and on and on. These are the reminders to which I cling while I wait. And I cling to those three verses in Lamentation 3. They are a lifeline – direct to the heart of God.

Let me end, as I often do, with the lyrics to a song. It is my favorite verse from the hymn “Great Is Thy Faithfulness.”

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow
Blessings all mine with ten thousand beside

Great is Thy faithfulness; great is Thy faithfulness
Morning by morning new mercies I see
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.

Pardon, peace, strength and hope all contained within the sweet presence of God. What more could we ask?

Blindfolded or the Fine Art of Perseverance

At the beginning of the sermon Sunday, Pastor Mark showed the death crawl clip from Facing the Giants. He was preaching from Hebrews 12, and the focus of the sermon was perseverance. He had some powerful things to say – truths that we all need to grasp and incorporate into our faith walk. But there was one thing he said that was, for me, like a punch in the solar plexus. I’m not sure it had the same impact on others as it did on me, but I have carried it with me since Sunday.

It was actually a question and very possibly a question that wouldn’t have made you dwell on it too long. But for me, it hit right where I’m living.  He asked, “How far would you go if you were blindfolded?”  I don’t typically answer rhetorical questions when taking notes on a sermon, but at the end of that question, I wrote, “I AM blindfolded.” I have been blindfolded since May of 2018 when I lost my teaching job of 25 years for praying with my students. If I think closely about it, I think that I have been blindfolded since December of 2017 when I was first suspended on those charges.  I have been blindfolded and desperate to take off the blindfold to see where I’m going – if I’ve made ANY progress over the last 18 months.

To be honest, I’ve often felt that we have been crawling around in circles. I know I keep coming back to the same issues. To find another job or not. How can we lower our regular monthly bills? How serious is Bill’s pulmonary fibrosis? What about ministry?  Back to the prison or does God have something else in mind? Should we sell the house? And on and on and on.

And yes, like the kid in the video, I’m tired. I often feel like I can’t take another step. Actually, I’m not sure there is value in taking another step if I’m just walking in circles. In light of eternity, I’m not sure I have made a difference in even one person’s life over this time. So, it begs the question, “Why would God want me blindfolded?” If we use the kid in the video, he would have stopped at the twenty-yard line. What about me? Where would I have stopped?

It might interest you to know that I had no idea what the answer to that question was until I finished typing it. Of course, I can’t know for sure, but I’m afraid that I might have stopped back in April – before I lost my job – or even in December when the threat of it was on the table. If I had known how useless it all seems 18 months later, would I still have stood for Jesus? I think so. I hope so.

But how exactly do you keep going when you’re tired and hurting and blindfolded? That question took me back to the key passage – Hebrews 12.

 Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before Him He endured the cross… Consider Him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

Consider Him! Ah! It always comes back to Him, doesn’t it? And in that truth lies the answer to the question of blindfolding.  I see a mental image of horses wearing blinders. The purpose of blinders is to keep them looking straight ahead rather than being distracted by everything around them. Isn’t that the same purpose God has when He blindfolds us? Wearing blindfolds, all we can see is the One to Whom darkness is as light – the light of the world. And why is it so important that we fix our eyes on Him? We find the answer in the last part of verse 3 – “so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.” The implication in those verses is that if we have grown weary and lost heart, we have not had our eyes fixed on Jesus.

We make it so easy on the enemy, don’t we? He doesn’t even have to think of something new. He uses the same old tricks and we keep falling for them. But that’s where perseverance comes in. When the devil pulls us down, we fix our eyes on Jesus, dust ourselves off and take the next step – blindfolded and beholding His face.

And if we persevere, the day will come when we can be a light in someone else’s darkness. God instructs us about that in verses 12 and 13. “Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. Make level paths for your feet, so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed.”

 So, once more I choose to place my eyes squarely where they belong so that I won’t continue to be weary and heavyhearted. If you are struggling in the dark right now and are old enough to remember it, sing this chorus with me. “Turn your eyes upon Jesus. Look full in His wonderful face. And the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.”

PS I can’t resist telling you this. Bill came home Wednesday as I was nearing the end of this. I left it and went downstairs. To my surprise, he pulled me into his arms and said “pray with me.” Since he usually is asking me to pray for him, I was surprised when he began to pray. I was even more surprised when he said, “God, it feels like we’ve been walking around in the darkness. Please give us some light so we can have an idea where we’re going.” I could do nothing but smile and say, “Oh my Jesus, we are so human.”