Diligent Searching

With Christmas upon us, I have found myself pondering the command given the wise men searching for the Christ child.  Sent on an errand by Herod, a man terrified of losing his reign to an infant, they put their trust in a star that led them to the single greatest moment of their lives. Can you imagine their journey? How long did it take? Months? Years?  Can you feel their excitement?  Their anticipation? Did you notice their single-mindedness?  How they continually searched until what they sought was found? I wonder if they had any idea how blessed they were to be the ones Herod told to “search diligently” (Matthew 2:8, KJV) for the Baby in the manger. 

I am certain Herod never intended to give a mandate concerning Jesus that would so profoundly resonate through time. Those words are still the best instruction given. They should be our daily directive. Diligently seek to find Jesus. Don’t quit looking. Don’t be distracted. Look everywhere.  Don’t discount anyone or anything. (How different would the story be if the wise men had ignored that star!) Search diligently.  Find him. Find Christ.

For us, the search is not for a baby, but for the gentle whisper of Christ in every aspect of our lives, every individual we encounter, every circumstance we face.  It is seeing him when we look out the window and see weather that keeps us housebound.  It is searching for him when the whole family is struck with the flu at the same time.  It is in the unshakeable faith that he is there even when we don’t readily see him, and the constant searching to see his hand, his face, his heart.

When I read those words, I hear a call for us to embark on a journey to find Jesus. We must daily find him in our own hearts.  I’ll be honest. I get busy, harried.  Sometimes I pray on the run and read a Psalm after the kids are in bed.  It becomes a little like checking a box rather than a special time of searching out a new promise or dwelling on an old truth. The image of Jesus imprinted in my head becomes clouded, his voice a little muffled.  And I realize that I haven’t been diligently searching, seeking to stay in close contact with him.  Thankfully, the truth of Jeremiah 29:13, “And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart” (KJV) and echoed in Luke 11:9, “…seek, and ye shall find…” (KJV) still applies. The God seeker is rewarded. Those who seek Him find true treasure. 

It is also a call to search out Jesus’ heart for the people around us. What do we see when we look at the people around us? When we see the rude lady at the supermarket, the homeless man on the corner, or the prostitute in the bowels of her own hell, do we see people lovingly crafted by God or do we totally discount Genesis 1:27 where it says that God made man in his own image? Do we see people as treasures beloved by God? Do we love them because Jesus does?

 It may take diligent searching to see Jesus around us. We don’t readily see him in ragamuffin humanity. His image may be dim, but he is there. We must seek to have a heart like Jesus. We must love those individuals crafted in God’s image who find themselves on a less than stellar path. It is in seeing that soul as lovable that we have truly found the image of Jesus we were seeking. It is in loving that soul that we have truly found God’s heart.

 And so it is a journey of building blocks.  To see Jesus around us, we must first diligently seek him with our whole hearts.  We must never give up the search to find more of Jesus. Once we find him, we must not let go. We must diligently search every face for traces of God.  Where we see no trace, we must become his hands and feet.  It is not a journey for the faint of heart.  It is a lifelong dedication to intimately know and enact the heart of Christ.

So this Christmas, I want to diligently seek Jesus and be rewarded by that great find. I want to find him in myself, my life, my world. I resolve to seek him diligently in the coming year.  I pray that my thoughts, words and actions portray the result of this diligent seeking. I urgently desire that I will be blessed with the opportunity to touch others who are seeking him too. For you, I pray that you will diligently seek Christ as the center of your Christmas, and that his presence will saturate your lives in the coming year.

Be blessed.

The Compliment of Confidence

I am unquenchably fascinated with the book of Job. You might even call it an addiction. Of the sixty-six books in the Bible, Job is, unequivocally, my favorite. I read it often. Each time finding something that challenges me to a more devoted relationship with Jesus. On a smaller scale, I often identify with Job—both his frustration with his circumstances and his refusal to deny his God. I aspire to reach his spiritual height. I strive to serve God with that amount of devotion. I am desperate to have God’s vote of confidence in my commitment to Him.

The first time I really locked on to the verse in Job 1:8, where God points out Job’s righteousness to Satan, I felt outraged that God would throw Job under the bus like that. It's almost like God was offering him up to be tested. God even chatted him up a little. Listed his attributes. In God’s words, Job was perfect, feared God, and shunned sin. Satan couldn’t wait to get his hands on him. Can you imagine the overwhelming sense of abandonment Job must have felt? He lost his possessions, his livelihood, his children. And while he didn't quit the faith, he didn’t see the trial for the fantastic moment that it was either. That giant list of horrific events blocked his view of what God was truly saying.

It took me a bit, but I finally saw it for what it was—the greatest compliment ever bestowed. God cast a vote of confidence in Job’s level of commitment to Him. God knew that Job was so committed to Him, so in love with Him, so devoted to their relationship that nothing could destroy it. Job's faithful response to his trial embodied the then unwritten words of I Corinthians 10:13 where we are promised that God won’t let us be tempted more than he’ll give us the strength to withstand. He was condemned by his friends and encouraged by his wife to quit the faith, yet Job upheld his commitment to God even when it got so ugly he couldn’t stand himself. In return God gave Job the strength to endure, wrapped up in one giant unspoken compliment. The compliment of God's confidence in Job's commitment to him. And just like that the trial of Job goes down as one of Satan’s epic failures, an attempt foiled before it had even begun.

The story stirs my being. I rarely see my trials as compliments. I am often beleaguered by doubt and feel like I am fighting the battle alone. When I am trapped in a bottomless pit of trials, no escape in sight, I take refuge in the story of Job and find strength in the fact that God doesn’t give me more than he is able to help me endure. My resolve strengthens. I remember my goal. I seek to be one of Satan’s epic failures. I strive to maintain a bond with God that can withstand any test. I search to find the compliment in the confusion. I covet nothing more wholeheartedly than God’s vote of confidence. There is no greater compliment, no higher achievement, no loftier commendation. I find myself once again striving toward the mark. I long for God, who knows my innermost heart, to know that my commitment to him is not dependent upon clear skies and smooth seas. I pray that my commitment to God be strong enough to gain the compliment of his confidence.

So when you are stuck in the darkest part of your deepest valley hold fast the faith, remember that God doesn't give you more than his strength can help you handle, and he has complete confidence in your faithful commitment to him. Look diligently for the compliment in the confusion, and rest in the knowledge that God has more confidence in you than you have in yourself.

A Worthy Obsession

It is amazing how obsessed we are with being obsessed with things. How often we obsess over our homes, dietary habits, workout routines, appearances, and children. And though these are not unworthy causes, they are hardly worthy of the frantic energy we throw into keeping them alive?  Are we expending more energy to the care and feeding of our earthly obsessions than we are in storing up heavenly treasures? 

Somewhere in the frenetic pace of our lives we have forgotten the words of Jesus in Matthew 6:19-21, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth…but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven…For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” (KJV)  No interpretation necessary. So I have to stop and ask myself where my treasure is.  Is it in good health, social status, and my shoe closet?  Or is it hidden with Christ in God?

Remember the story of the rich young ruler (Mark 10:17-22) who just wasn’t able to let go of his obsession with possessions in order to follow Jesus.  He seemed so desperate to inherit eternal life.   He came to Jesus searching to ensure he would gain it. He was doing so much right.  But when he was told to abandon the earthly treasures and start storing up heavenly ones by giving the earthly ones to the poor, he couldn’t do it.  He walked away.

I find that story astonishing. You likely do too. How could anyone just walk away from eternal life?  Then I catch myself thinking more about the 300^th pair of shoes I want instead of the kids that don’t have shoes at all…and I realize that it’s not that hard to get sidetracked with possessions.  In truth, I don’t need the new shoes, the brand name foods, the gym membership, or new throw pillows.  My job is to adequately care for my family and actively help the needy.  It’s as simple as that.  As simple as being obsessed with the things Jesus is. 

So I’m busy growing again.  Learning to be obsessed with the things Jesus was--lost souls, loving my neighbor, portraying Christ, being concerned with the needy.  It’s not easy. I don’t come by it naturally.  Every day I have to rein myself in and make myself prioritize properly.  In that light, I pray that I will be overtaken by Jesus from the inside out.  I pray that his love will flow through me and affect those around me for him. I pray that I will be obsessed with making a difference for Jesus.  Most of all, I pray that I will become possessed by God’s obsessions.

Are you obsessed with possessions or does Jesus possess you to the point that his obsessions are yours? 

The Joy of Recovery

            What would it be like if we were all completely honest when we walk into church?  What if we were all comfortable enough to just stand up and identify our faults, whatever our struggle?  How fantastic would it be to just stand up and state, “I am struggling with anger (or whatever the issue is) today.”  Even better, how comforting would it be to stand up in church, small group, or prayer meeting, say these things, and receive a response not of judgment, but of prayer.  So why don’t we do this?  Why do we teach folks to treat their spiritual battles and short comings as dirty little secrets?  What would happen in our hearts if our church services were more like a recovery group meeting (think AA), and less like a secret society?

            And why aren’t they?  We are all recovering sinners, each addicted to our own vices.  We could all benefit from the accountability of the group.  The thing that hinders us the most is the inability to show our weakness for fear of being judged as unchristian and evicted from the secret society of the church?  Shame on us as a church, that we are more willing to evict our fellow Christians than to help mend and strengthen them.  It is unconscionable.  It is unacceptable.  Most importantly, it is not Biblical.

            Toward the end of the book of James, we are admonished, “Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed…” (James 5:16 KJV) Did you hear that?  Not a word about a special phrase, a secret handshake, or a dress code. No secret society.  Just a simple directive to bare our hearts to one another. Confess your faults, issues, battles, vices one to another, not so you can be judged, but so you can be covered in prayer, be healed, be stronger, be victorious—be recovered. 

            I am not a perfect Christian. I have faults.  Sometimes I cave to anger, envy, fear, pride. I’m not always as strong as I wish I were.  I fail to depend on God as much as I should.  I crave the type of spiritual interaction that James admonishes us to have--the honesty, the openness, the reality.  I covet the prayers of my Godly friends.  Sometimes I don’t even know where to start and my brokenness yields only the words, “Help me”.  In that moment, the prayers of others are so important to me that words fail my attempt to convey it.  My soul cries out for the healing brought about by these prayers—restoration, rejuvenation, recovery.

            So I pray these things.  May we stop treating church like a secret society. Give up the pretense on Sunday morning and just be the broken, needy people God loves. May we break free of our inhibitions. You can’t get to Heaven on someone else’s opinion anyway.  May we find the inner fortitude to be real with one another.  (Inner fortitude = God) May we find the freedom to be healed of our faults. Overall, may we discover the joy of recovery. 

Being Defined by God

            Humanity spends countless hours attempting to define themselves.  I’ve done it.  You have too.  It’s important to us.  We need to know ourselves, understand who and what we are.  The knowledge somehow seems to anchor us. Sadly, we tend to think we are defined by our careers, our talents, our accomplishments. But those are just the things we do. Our true definition is so much more. It is found by peering into Jesus' eyes, the great looking glass of Heaven, and seeing ourselves as Jesus does. 

         Ever wonder how God sees you?  Check out the account of the woman with the blood disorder in Mark 5: 24-34.  She couldn’t have been pretty.  Disease had ravaged her body. She probably hadn’t worked for years. Who can work without strength?  Her money was gone, wasted on so many useless physicians. Her hopes were few, her desperation deep. Desperation that caused her to crawl through a crowd in search of a cure. Her physical healing came when faith caused her to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment, but the best was yet to come.

         She peered into Heaven's looking glass and got the surprise of her life. In spite of her physical appearance, lack of employment, or non-existent accomplishments, Jesus defined her. He told her how he saw her.  He let everyone know she was family. He called her, “Daughter…”

            How fantastic.  How amazing.  Who could ask for a better definition? For me, there are few words I love to hear fall off God’s tongue toward me more than the word, “Daughter”.  It is where I came from.  It is who I am.  It is my sole, most important identifier.  I am God’s daughter.  Amazingly beautiful and enormously overwhelming, it is a thought to ponder when I feel bereft, a bolstering promise when I feel less than courageous.   The constancy of my place in God’s world is my anchor when life’s storms rage out of control.  Our relationship is my past, present and future.

            Sometimes I lose touch with my true definition. I get frazzled.  I get stressed.  Sometimes the jobs I hold run together and obscure the original definition of who I am.  I get so involved being a wife, mom, housekeeper, chauffeur, and cook that I forget those things do not define me. It is then that I have to take some time and refocus on the magnificent reality of who I truly am.  That knowledge is peace, confidence, hope, and faith.   I am God’s daughter.  It is the best I could ever attain.

            If you’ve never heard God call you his child, one of the most amazing experiences of your life awaits you.  Truly, the best is yet to come.

Loving Lavishly

I am entirely, unquestionably, unapologetically tired of labels.  You know the ones.  Those little barbs of disrespect strategically tossed in an effort to highlight others alleged shortcomings while keeping our own enshrouded.  Addict. Prostitute. Divorcee. Single parent. Gay. Radical. Liberal. There are a million more. They are lavishly attired judgments masquerading as identifiers. They carry stigmas that damage the heart, alienate friends, and estrange relationships. They can crush the soul.

Why do we use them?  Is it so much more difficult to say “the lady with the beautiful smile” than it is to say “the addict in the corner”?  Could not both be true of the same individual?  Are we so desperately insecure that we feel compelled to verbally eviscerate other’s reputations in an unbridled attempt to secure our place in society?  Are we really that pathetic?  Apparently.

We troll through life making sure our elbows rub only the proper ones and that our children never come in contact with the undesirable.  We hide our own secrets and try to uncover everyone else’s.  We are in a desperate race to be the last one standing with their secrets still intact—and for what? Is there a grand prize for the one who has the most hidden secrets in the end?  I’m thinking “no” since King Solomon, in his grand dissertation on meaning, stated in Ecclesiastes 12:14 that every work and every secret thing will be brought to judgment, whether good or evil.  No prize, just a great unveiling.

So I petition for total honesty—with ourselves and with one another. I make no apology for who I am and the events of my life.  I accept that they are unchangeable. I know I am forgiven. I comprehend that those events do not define me.  They enhance me. They make me better able to look past the label on another and accept them for the person God created. They allow me to see potential in myself and others. They compel me to love like Jesus would.  Indiscriminately.

This by no means indicates that I approve or endorse habits that flout God’s law, I do not.  It simply means that God has pressed upon me to love boundlessly.  Love him wholeheartedly.  Love others unrestrainedly.  Nowhere in my Bible have I found permission to judge others on their indiscretions, past or present.  Nor have I found an instance where God did not love the ones he so lovingly created. I have only found that I am to love Him so much that it flows back through me and touches everyone I meet.  It is a journey, a growing process.  It has given birth to a new prayer that I pray for myself and my church. 

“Father, help us to be so enamored with you, so desperately in love with you, that your love fills us, flows out of us, and touches everyone with whom we come in contact.  Make us magnets for you.”  With this in mind, it is my goal to love as lavishly as the Father by loving the Father lavishly. 

The Runaway

Being a spiritual runaway is exhausting.  Trust me, I know.  The questions that don't have answers, the fears you don't want to face, and the persistent emptiness of life all add up to a lot of worthless scrambling that leaves you lonely and discontent.  The only cure is to come back to the Father's house.  I'm clueless why we balk about it. Why we are so reticent to exchange pressure for peace, fear for faith, loneliness for love? 

It was pretty rocky for me when I first came back, mostly because I was busy paying the price for the lousy choices I made out there on my own.  I was also busy working out my own salvation and trying to decide which God was real--the one standing around every corner waiting to bash me over the head if I misstepped or the one who loved me immeasurably because of what I was, not in spite of it.  I'd heard plenty about the first one, but not so much about the second.  Turns out, the first character isn't God at all.  So I learned that God IS love.

I'm still learning.  Every day is a new lesson in faith, love, grace, patience, and God's character.  I feel like the Apostle Paul when he said something to the effect of, "Not that I have attained or am already perfect...I press toward the mark for the prize..." Yep.  That's me.  Still working on it. Still learning. 

So that's the idea behind this blog, sharing what I learn along the way.  Although I did spend a couple years in Bible college, I am not a preacher, teacher or theologian.  I'm more along the lines of people like Jonah who ran from his calling, Sarah who laughed at God's ideas, and Peter who caved to the opinions of others and denied knowing Jesus. The good news is that Jonah, Sarah, Peter and I all finally figured out our errors and corrected them. 

I have no qualms with being God's prodigal daughter--it means I've tried the other stuff and know it's not for me but it makes me able to understand others who feel the need to try it. It means I know who I am, where I came from, where I'm going, and who my best travelling Companion is.  It also means that my black robe and gavel were placed in the dumpster out back, because that's not my job. 

That being said, my prayer for you is to be real, be blessed, be loved...and that you pay those things forward.

The Returned Runaway