Field of Daisies

Responding to Hate

I have a confession to make. Yesterday I yielded to temptation. You see, I had received a couple of comments on this blog from some very angry liberals who had been offended by my husband's outspoken views on the current presidential race as stated on his own personal blog. These venomous comments to my blog were not only unsolicited and uncalled for, they were personal. They attacked me for my views, without even knowing what my views are, and they even went so far as to put words in my mouth, so-to-speak, attributing viewpoints to me that were completely offensive. These comments were filled with hatred and anger, and I felt violated. Initially I thought my husband's blog linked to mine, thus explaining how these people located me. That not being the case, they apparently had gone out of their way to track me down. This awareness added to my feeling of having been violated.

So in response, I blogged about the presidential race and the all-elusive truth regarding Mr. Kerry's Senate voting record. I did my research then posted my findings based on a Democratic web site which gave conclusive evidence of Mr. Kerry's affiliations with various liberal groups. This evidence was enough to convince me of the kind of character Mr. Kerry possesses, and I thought it sufficient to allow those findings to stand on their own, with only minimal assessments from me.

However, after I posted that blog, I experienced that all-too-familiar "check" in my spirit -- you know, the one that says, "Hmmm...Maybe I shouldn't have done that." Subsequently I got distracted and forgot about the entry until this morning when the "check" returned. I knew deep down I needed to delete it. There was nothing inherently wrong in my stating my findings or my views. I think the reason the Spirit urged me to delete my post was because it did not do anything to serve Him or His purposes. It did not help to heal the rift between the Liberals and the Conservatives in this country. It did not prove one side right and the other wrong. And it did not portray the heart of God within me to the hurting masses that are incapable of seeing the wrongs of this dark and despairing world.

My "quiet time" this morning reminded me that because Christ gave His life for payment of my sins, and because of His victory over death for my sake, my life is not my own. As the Scripture says,

So, the post has been deleted from my blog. I'm not sure how to be Christ to those who despise the cross and all it stands for, but I do know what is counterproductive to that end, and for me, because I am His, I joyfully choose to yield to His ownership.... I am not my own, indeed! I can think of nothing better than knowing I belong to such an awesome God and Savior!

A Photo From Our New Church Home

I wrote about our new church facility a few weeks ago, but at that time there were no photos available. They've *finally* gotten the photos up on the church web site, so I thought I'd share one with you....
You wouldn't think a church this large could feel warm and homey, but this one does! It's a wonderful combination of brilliant architectual design and the body of Christ functioning together.

If you're ever in the area, stop by and take a look. If you're like many of us, you won't want to leave. :-)

Splinters From the Cross

Here is another of my jewels from the vault. It's the one piece I've written that I probably felt the most reluctant to publish, yet it is the one about which I have received the most response. So here it is again. I pray it will hold some significance for you.

Splinters from the Cross

Prologue:

Following is an allegory describing what finally brought me to a point of healing and a place of peace in my life. After years of searching for the answers, this is what I found.
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There I sat once again, trying to sort out the truth. That nagging feeling had been chewing away at me, little by little, piece by piece, until nothing was left but raw, irritated nerves.

As always, I cried out to my Savior, my Lord, my God, tired, with desperation in my voice: "Jesus, I can't take this lonely road again . . . . I've walked it so many times before yet it leads me nowhere . . . ." I swallowed the words but the thoughts numbed my brain as they drudged on unharnessed. . . . . nowhere but to the end of my emotions--to the void; that immense gulf of painfully cold blackness.

"Mary," He called softly.

"Yes, Lord . . . ?"

"How is it that you still don't trust Me?" His voice was warm and deep. "Lift your eyes to Mine." And with that He gently placed His hand beneath my chin and brought my face opposite His.

Looking into His eyes I saw something I'd never seen before. There, a single tear swelled and spilled over His dark lashes and down His smooth olive skin. First one, then another.

His heart was breaking for me.

I lifted my hand to wipe the tears from His cheek, pausing to caress the precious face of my Jesus.

Then He took my hand gently into His own. I winced as my fingers touched the scar. He cupped His other hand over mine and with a pat of reassurance, in that same soothing voice, said, "Follow Me. There is nothing to fear." With that He let go of my hand and turned and walked away.

There before Him I saw that road--just as I'd always seen it before. But this time, Jesus walked ahead of me. I knew I had to follow.

The road was long and winding. It was narrow and rocky. The incline sharp and steady. My feet were heavy and each step became harder to take. I slowed to a crawl, but Jesus kept His pace and soon was far ahead of me, out of sight.

It seemed as though hours had passed as I neared the end of the road. But my heart was full of anticipation. I knew my Lord would be waiting for me, arms opened wide, just around the next corner. I wouldn't have to face the void alone this time.

Filthy, exhausted and out of breath I finally reached the end. As I rounded the last corner I couldn't believe my eyes. Shocked and horrified a cry of agony filled my lungs as I fell to my knees . . . .

"Nooooooooooooooo!"

There before me hung my precious Jesus, once again nailed upon the tree. His skin hung in ribbons. Blood flowed freely down that smooth olive face as the thorns dug deep into His skull.

There at the foot of the cross I wept, and once again I looked into His face.

"Why?" I asked Him pleadingly. "Why did You do this for me?"

He pushed Himself up on the nail in His feet and gasped a reply I didn't expect.

"The question, --My child, --is not why?,--but what now? What --will you --do with --Me now?"

"I don't know what You mean," I sobbed. "What choices do I have?"

Then there appeared next to me a large bucket, filled with a lifetime of atrocities. The stench was sickening, more hideous than anything I'd ever experienced before. It was all I could do not to wretch at the sight of it.

I looked again to the mutilated figure on the cross and, shaking my head, I pleaded, "I just don't understand."

Again He put all His weight on His feet and spoke in painful gasps. "Throw--it--on--Me."

"No!" I screamed. "I can't! I don't understand, my Lord . . . please help me understand!" I continued frantically. "You've already taken my sins, why must You do it again?"

"These aren't--your sins--, My child, --but --the sins--of the--one you seek."

"You mean, the one who hurt me . . . ," I said quietly. It was more of a statement than a question.

"But You've already taken his sins too; why must You do this again?"

"My precious--child," He spoke lovingly. "Each time--you seek him out--you drive the nails--into Me--all over again. Until you--let go--of the past,--until you--forgive him, --I will hang here--suspended in agony."

With that I grabbed the bucket and flung it as hard as I could away from my Savior into the void beyond the cross. Then I threw myself at the foot of that tree. There I clung with all my might, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I forgive him," I cried. "I forgive him."

An angel came at that moment and released my sweet Jesus and the two of them soon disappeared from view.

I released my painful grip of the cross and pulled myself to my feet. I looked at my own hands and forearms, and again I gazed in astonishment. There, deeply embedded in my hands and arms, were splinters from the cross. As I pulled each of the shards from my own soft white flesh, the wounds immediately began to heal.

Then, in a moment, the blackness of the void was overtaken by the glorious light of the Son of God.

I was free.

More From the Vault

Here's another gem from my stockpile of "old" articles. This one is from 1996.

A Lesson in Contentment

We in America live in luxury. Running water in our homes is standard. Inside toilets are commonplace. Electricity is available at the flip of a switch. Most of us can maintain the perfect temperature within our homes year round if we so desire. We have access to the latest fashions. We have shoes for every occasion. We want for nothing. Or so you would think.

Seeing all that we have, it astounds me that I still want more. My kitchen sink is chipped. I want a new one. My floor tile is long out of style. I want to replace it. The carpeting throughout the house is old and, well, not what I would've chosen. I want new carpet. I want, I want, I want. Contentment becomes a casualty of the want-more's. I want more!

My husband and I have a great marriage. We have two beautiful children: a boy and a girl. We are all healthy. We own our home. We have two vehicles in the driveway. My husband has his own company. Most of all we have a growing, personal relationship with Jesus Christ. What more could we want?

In Philippians 4, Paul shares that he has "learned to be content whatever the circumstances." Ah, so this contentment thing is learned. He continues, "I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty." Okay, so he's been there. He's done without. "I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." Oh, so there's a secret to this.... "I can do everything through Him who gives me strength." Ah-ha. It all comes back to Jesus.

That sounds simple enough. Simple, yes. But never easy.

In the past two years I've had two experiences where I was faced with doing "it" through Christ, in His strength. The first was the birth of our second child. The labor and delivery went perfectly. But a few hours later, for some unknown reason, our sweet baby girl stopped breathing...five times in one hour. I will never forget when the nurse practitioner came to tell us about Jenna's condition. There was no hope in her voice. She was preparing us for the worst. In a moment, the bottom dropped out of our joy and we were free-falling in the black uncertainty of an illness we knew nothing about. We were helpless. All we could do was trust God to do what was best for us and Jenna. All we could do was hold on to Him and His strength. There in that hospital room He became our strength---and our peace. He gently carried us through the next ten days as we watched and waited. Finally, on Christmas Eve we brought our precious gift from God home, perfectly healthy.

The second situation happened the following Christmas. After experiencing the temporary loss of my peripheral vision I contacted my doctor to determine if I needed to be examined. I wasn't ready for her response. There was urgency in her voice as she advised me to seek the medical attention of an ophthalmologist as soon as possible. Her concern? Multiple Sclerosis.

Because of the Christmas holiday, I had to wait a full week for the appointment. During that week, my husband and I considered all the implications that accompany MS. Would I end up in a wheelchair? Would it be a minor inconvenience or a major change in every aspect of our lives? We assumed the worst then hoped for the best.

The interesting thing about that week was that although I constantly mulled over the questions, internally I was filled with indescribable joy and peace. For probably the first time in my life I was truly thankful for my mobility, agility and independence. The sky seemed to be bluer than ever before. The trees, although brown and bare, were beautiful to me. I laughed more that week, enjoying the little things that so often went unnoticed.

As it turned out, what I had experienced was not MS, but a minor inconvenience, the result of stress. What could have been a diagnosis of disability, became a rare and precious gift. For Christmas God had given me the gift of His strength, His joy, His peace---even in the face of fear.

I promised myself I wouldn't let the preciousness of that gift fade. I promised myself I wouldn't forget how blue the sky was or how thankful I was for those things in my life I had always taken for granted.

Even so it wasn't long till discontentment began to ease it's way back into my thinking. The kitchen sink was still chipped. The carpet still stained. But God has been true to Himself, and to me, in that He has gently reminded me about true contentment. And now I, like Paul, can say I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. The interesting thing is that need and plenty have been redefined. My need is to lean on Jesus no matter what the circumstances. Plenty smiles at me every morning from her crib and plenty fills my legs with strength as I walk over to pick her up. I still need reminders, but I can honestly say, I am learning the secret.

In Case You're Wondering....

I've spent a considerable amount of blog space discussing the topic of abortion lately. The reason for that is very simple: many years ago a good friend of mine came to me in the midst of a crisis pregnancy. She shared her thoughts with me as she vacillated between deciding to have the baby, which would make her a single mom, or choosing instead to abort. Out of fear that my opinions on the subject might damage our relationship, I took the coward's way out. I let her make up her own mind, promising to stand by her whatever she decided.

In the deepest part of my soul I knew abortion ended the thriving life of an unborn child, but instead of defending that child -- and my friend's emotional, physical and spiritual well-being -- I kept quiet.

The result was that my friend chose abortion. She ended the life of her precious unborn child. And by doing so, she unleashed an avalanche of emotions within herself that were quite literally too intense for her to handle. In short, her life has never been the same.

About ten years after this incident, God revealed to me the responsibility I bore for the loss of that tiny life and for the devastation of my friend's life. And my life has never been the same.

As a result, God began taking me on a journey into the world of abortion -- the politics of it, the evil surrounding it, the unrelenting emotional pain it leaves in its wake. He likewise led me to create a web site making the truth of abortion available for those considering abortion and facilitating the healing of Jesus Christ in the lives of those who had been devastated by abortion.

I maintained the site for several years before the Lord led me in another direction, but SafeHaven has continued to thrive under the godly and merciful leadership of my dear friend, Carla.

Abortion will always be a topic close to my heart. And in all honesty I'm not completely certain God's call on my life in this area is not still valid. It is something over which I am in continual prayer.

If you or someone you know is in the midst of a crisis pregnancy or has already had an abortion, SafeHaven is the place to send them. There they will receive non-judgmental acceptance, compassion, truth, and hope whatever their situation may be.

The Kind of Child (of God) I Want to Be

I didn't have to look very far for a description for this category. First Thessalonians 5 immediately came to mind. Here is my own loosely quoted version:

The Kind of Child (of God) I Want to Be

A Godly Heritage

As Joel was cleaning out his closet yesterday he ran across two of my old bibles. He gave them to me asking me to put them somewhere else. As I looked through them this morning I realized what precious treasures they are to me.

These two bibles represent the only two bibles my parents ever bought me: the first one given to me at Christmas when I was just six years old. The traditional King James Version, with the traditional black faux leather cover, without a mark in it other than the "presented to" page, speaks in so many ways of what those early years of my Christian training were like. The worn, yellowed pages and the beat-up cover testify to much use, even if the inner markings are absent. (I wouldn't dare write in my bible back then!)

They gave the second bible to me six years later on my birthday. A green, hard-covered Living Bible doesn't contain the traditional "presented to" page, but there is an inscription on the inside cover written and signed by my mother:

Though my mom has lived out her faith before me through her actions all my life, these words represent the beat of her heart--as well as her deepest desire for me: that I would live my life for Christ.

My dad signed his name: Carl Handke. That is so like him! Ever uncertain of how to relate to others' hearts, he opts for the safety of a signature. But even that is okay. I have grown to love and respect my dad for who he is instead of who I may have wanted him to be. (All glory to God for that!)

The Living Bible tells another part of the story. A story of a less traditional Christian training during the turbulent and awkward 70's when our culture was going through it's own adolescence. This bible has more markings in it: passages underlined, verse references listed in the back with "Fantastic Verses..." written alongside them in red ink. There are instructions on how to study the bible and quaint quotes from various sources that spoke to my young heart in those fragile adolescent years. All these are seeds of a godly heritage sown in me through my parents' faithfulness to and love for God, as well as their hopes and desires for me. You see, they knew something way back then that I was only beginning to glimpse: the Word of God is life to us; it is what will get us through the trials and losses and disappointments and fears of this life. And it is what makes the joys all the more richer.

As I hold these two bibles in my hands, it is almost like holding that heritage, for certainly these are the tangible evidences of godly parents who passed on their faith to their child. How grateful I am for these evidences and for the parents who loved God and me enough to equip me with the tools I would need to not only survive this life, but to succeed in the truest sense of the word: by living my life for Jesus Christ, my Savior and Lord.

Not only is that heritage continuing in the lives of their children, but in their grandchildren and their great-grandchildren as well. Lives that have been transformed by faith in God that have likewise been poured out in the lives of countless others. What a godly heritage indeed.

Thanks, Mama and Daddy, for loving Jesus, and for passing that love on to me. I thank God for you!

A Picture Says A Thousand Words

This one says it all.

(Bookmark by Gary B. Clark.
To order this or other
products of this sort, go to Heritage
House's web site.)

Our New Church Home

I mentioned a few weeks ago that we were moving our church to the new location at I-35 and 15th Street. We held our third day of Sunday services there this past weekend and it is awesome! The entire facility is beautiful, with lots of room to move around or sit and socialize for a while. And that's exactly what people do after/between services. It's so fun to see so many people hanging around the Gathering Place, the Hillside Cafe, sitting outside at the patio tables, or lounging in one of the many cozy little sofa nooks. It truly has that don't-want-to-leave kind of comfy feeling. I think it must make God smile to see His children enjoying one another's company so much. And isn't that the way it's supposed to be?

(I wanted to show you a photo of the new location, but the link at the site is not working right now.... But check out the new look of the HHBC web site. It's very cool!)

P.S. I heard a story the other day from a reliable source, that there was one member of our church that was so emotionally attached to our old facility he just couldn't leave it. Apparently he is now a Methodist! :-)

Narrow-minded or Open-minded?

A few years ago I had the privilege of visiting the inside world of post-abortion trauma. Although I've always been decidedly pro-life, I never realized how very complicated the issue of abortion could be. For example, at one point in my life I thought it very neat and tidy to be able to lump all those who would abort their children in the "evil" category. Having taken a walk among them, I have found a plethora of circumstances and situations that add a multitude of shades of gray to that black and white way of thinking.

Don't get me wrong, I still believe life is precious from conception and that only God should decide the fate of an unborn child. Some people would similarly place me in the "close-minded" category for making such a statement. However I have seen the suffering that goes on in the hearts and minds of those who struggle with a "crisis" pregnancy. I have heard stories of young women being forced or coerced into having an abortion by well-meaning or controlling parents, or boyfriends or husbands that didn't want the responsibility of a child. Others have told of being lied to by so-called abortion counselors that insisted it wasn't a child at all, but merely a blob of tissue. Still others have viewed abortion as a mercy killing, sparing the child from being born into an abusive home or an impoverished lifestyle. And yes, there are those that simply don't want their plans for college, career, or fun to be ruined by parenthood. Whatever the impetus for choosing abortion, there are almost always varied degrees of pain, grief, remorse, regret, shame, denial, and/or bitterness resulting from having made the choice to abort.

Having been blessed by such an awareness, my challenge to those who are adamantly pro-life would to be that they too would walk among the post-abortive, to see their hearts up close. Instead of shouting at the 'evil' to go away, try walking alongside these wounded people and listen to their pain.

But my challenge goes even deeper than that.... Pray for and learn to have compassion even for those who are pro-abortion. For what I have also learned is that most (if not all) of those who are pro-abortion have likewise been deeply hurt by abortion -- only they are unable to admit their pain. For to admit that abortion is hurtful would be to admit that abortion is wrong. And to admit that would be to admit that the pain they're trying so desperately to disguise or diffuse through anger, bitterness, and sometimes even deception is legitimate -- and it is overwhelming. This is truly the most dangerous form of denial, for by it others are convinced to join their ranks. The danger is actually twofold: First, for those who find themselves with an unwanted pregnancy and want to believe the blob of tissue theory, that it's a choice, not a child, it is confirmation that abortion is okay. And second, for those who have already aborted and believe it's 'okay', being joined by those who choose abortion is much-needed verification and validation. Together these two groups of women lock arms and harden themselves against the cries of their wounded hearts.

Yes, it is all very complex indeed.

If you are one of those who would take up my challenge to walk among the post-abortive, to see their pain and to have compassion on them, you may begin to do so at SafeHaven, a peer support site designed to facilitate healing in those who have been hurt by abortion, and to educate and inform those considering abortion. But I would be remiss if I didn't also ask that you watch and learn from a distance at first. Realize some of the women who visit this site are in the midst of some of the most intense pain known to mankind, and some are still in the stages of denial. So if you cannot go to SafeHaven with an open mind and heart, a heart willing to offer compassion and forgiveness, then I would ask you not to go--or at least not to participate in the message boards or chat room sessions. The last thing these women need is condemnation. What they need is the hope and compassion that Jesus offered the woman caught in adultery.

One more thought: I was never faced with an unwanted pregnancy, but I always wondered what I would've done had I been. I have talked with too many pro-life post-abortive women to believe that I would've made a better choice than they made. As we see their pain, it is helpful to remember: There but by the grace of God go I. Because until we are in a situation such as theirs, we do not know with certainty what our choice would've been.

A Daily Dose of Encouragement

Every now and then I need a reminder. A reminder that God is good. A reminder that in Him there is hope. A reminder that the things of my life are not that as out of control as they may seem. This morning I found again one of the most wonderful "reminder" places on the web. I've had this site bookmarked for ages, but rarely have I turned to it to find the encouragment and godly wisdom that overflow within its pages. Elisabeth Elliot is one of my all-time favorite authors, a godly woman, an inspiring follower of Christ. If you're needing a bit of encouragment today or a morsel of godly wisdom, check out Ms. Elliot's daily devotional page at Back to the Bible. Browse the entries. Stay and soak up the abundance of mercy, grace, and wisdom there. I feel certain you will be blessed as I have been--and will continue to be--now that I've found this site again.

Endings & Beginnings

Tomorrow marks the last day we worship at our current church facility. The following Sunday will be our first in a brand new facility in a brand new location. As I think back over the almost four years we've been a part of this body of believers, there are several milestones that are extremely significant.

Both of our children were baptized at this church. Jenna was the first to be baptized (on May 9, 2001), and Joel had the honor of doing the deed, just as we had always hoped. As they stood there in the baptistry in their white robes, Joel spoke to the Wednesday night crowd, telling them he just might baptize her with tears first....

Later that night when we were talking about her baptism, Jenna said it 'felt good.' When I asked her what she meant, she said, "It felt like Jesus was touching my heart." (!) What precious words from the mouth of our sweet daughter to describe this simple act of obedience!

Although Zach trusted Christ for his salvation when he was just 5, he did not follow the Lord in baptism until July 3, 2002. Again, it was Joel that did the baptizing, with it's own tremendous significance. You see, Zach was the first Comm to join Joel in salvation--since the rest of his family are not believers.

Both Zach and Jenna participated in the children's musicals as well over the past few years, sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ through music. Both of them astounded us by singing solos a couple of times in front of audiences of about 500. What a joy to our hearts to see them serving God in such special ways.

Other ways God has touched our hearts at this church: the dear friends He's given us; the wonderful FLOCK He put us into; the special way Joel has helped out at VBS the past two summers; the support groups we helped start; the healing of friends; the special Easter and Christmas services we've participated in; the funeral of a beautiful soul.... We have been encouraged by the Holy Spirit through those who have taught us. We have been convicted of our sin, repented, and been forgiven and restored. We have met God there so many times--or rather He met us there at the very point of our need.

We have laughed with this congregation in this place. We have shared tears and struggles, prayer requests and praises, hopes and fears and concerns. And we have grown in this place.

As a sweet friend put it at our last Wednesday night choir rehearsal the other night, "I've been so excited about going to the new location...but now we have to leave!" It is so true. We have been excited about this new facility over the past three years. We can't wait to see what God is going to do in this new place. But at the same time, it is more than a little bit hard to leave this old place--with its green shag carpeting, sprawling campus, bad sound system, and limited parking.

Tomorrow is sure to be an emotional day, an exciting day. I know it will be a day to remember. I am so thankful God brought us to this body of believers, and I look forward to what He's going to do with us and through us as we begin a new phase of our lives at the new location.

Waking the Dead, Part II

I finished reading this book a few days ago. It has made a real impact on my life and will continue to, I believe.

Of highest interest to me, personally, were the following:

Let My Heart Be Broken...

Someone once told me, "Be careful what you ask for." Advice well heeded, even when it comes to prayer.

Years ago I ran across the following quote in a Christian magazine:

That one, simple sentence--a prayer, really--moved me so deeply I wrote it in the inside cover of my Bible. Little did I realize how seriously God would take my plea.

Over the years, God has taken me through some of the most difficult challenges (trials) of my life. And yes, my heart has been broken time and time again by things I am certain likewise break His heart. But the interesting thing is that because of those difficult times, I have been drawn into an intimacy with Him I never knew was possible. Because of His faithfulness in the darkest, most seemingly hopeless situations, He has been my strength, my comfort, my fortress, my Counselor, my Defender, and my Friend. I have come to know Him as a trustworthy confidante, a wise counselor, and a stern disciplinarian. I have heard His "still, small voice" echoing through my spirit. I have experienced His silence as He allowed me the privilege of figuring certain things out on my own. I have witnessed His reprimand when I 'got out of line.' I have known His protective hand, His tender touch, and His amazing grace and mercy.

And still I want to know Him more. Still there is so much in me to be worked out, burned out, softened, and honed.

The more I know Him, the more I realize I've only scratched the surface. Knowing Him is like the smell of baking bread to a starving man.... A smell, a taste of Him leaves me wanting more; my appetite is whetted--never satisfied. The 'belly' of my spirit is never full. I only and always want more of Him. It's a hunger that pulls me in closer, but never aches.

Do I regret the prayer for a broken heart? No. I have mourned many losses over the years, but I wouldn't take one of them back. The road to knowing God's heart is a terribly difficult one indeed, but well worth it. The price is high, but worth the cost. The payoff always exceeds the investment!

Certainly be careful what you ask for, but realize that no matter what you ask of God, His answer will always be His absolute best for you--even it you don't understand it...because He loves you that much!

*Quote by Bob Pierce, founder of World Vision and Samaritan's Purse.

One Thing You Still Lack…

There’s a story in the Bible of a rich young ruler that wanted to follow Jesus. He proclaimed that he had kept all the commandments of Moses (yeah, right—as if anyone can do that!), but Jesus responded to him, “One thing you still lack: sell all that you possess and distribute it to the poor, and you shall have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me.”

For those of us that want to follow Jesus, this is a lesson we must take fully to heart. So let’s examine closer what was really going on here.

Did Jesus mean that everyone who follows Him must literally sell all their possessions? No. Jesus saw into the heart of this young man and knew of his love for money. As much as he wanted to follow Jesus, this man cared more for his material possessions. His wealth had become his god.

The greatest commandment in the Bible is to love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. The second is similar: to love your neighbor as yourself. (Matt. 22:37-39) God requires that we love Him first and foremost above all other people, all other things, and above ourselves. He requires it. He deserves it. And to the one who obeys this command, the gates of heaven are thrown open and the blessings of God come pouring forth.

But to the one who places a greater value on other people, other things, or the selfish desires of their own hearts, Jesus said “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle….”

My own heart echoes the response of the rich young ruler to this treatise: “Who then can be saved?”

To which Jesus quickly answered: “The things that are impossible with people are possible with God.”

For those who think their salvation is up to them, this is another confirmation that our salvation is only possible because God makes it so. He calls us. He draws us to Himself. He paid the price for our salvation through the life, death, burial, and resurrection of His one and only Son, Jesus. And He enables us to love Him enough to put Him first in our life.

Is there ‘one thing’ in your life? Is there one thing that stands between you and a close, personal relationship with the One True God of the universe? Is it money, as in the case of the rich young ruler? Is it sin? Is it pride? Is it a person, a job, a habit, or a selfish desire?

God knows your heart. He created you. He formed you. He has been there with you, walking with you through every day of your life. And He loves you with a love that knows no bounds…. Are you willing to love Him enough to give up your one thing today? Are you willing to ask Him to enable you to love Him above all else in your life?

All I know is this: If you are willing, He is ready. And it is a choice you will never regret….

A Love Story For All Time

Fairy tales. Princes and kingdoms; knights on white horses defending ladies in distress.
Love songs with sweeping melodies, sweet and tender and moving.
A pastel dawn, crisp and clear.
The subtle fragrance of roses freshly picked from the vine.
The spring breeze teasing the first blossoms on a cool sunny morning.
The last clouds of sunset, a palette of lavenders and blues and pinks blushing at the closing moments of the day.
A brief afternoon thunderstorm in the mountains on a perfect summer day.

All these things stir the soul, tweak the heartstrings, and longing erupts, catapulting the lonely, the discouraged, the unfulfilled into a tailspin. Regrets arise. Wishes multiply. Disappointments turn to despair.

But it isn’t supposed to be that way. Such beauty should inspire boundless joy. That it instigates sadness instead is a clear signal something is wrong. Now, here, at the early autumn of my life I have learned what’s wrong: I have embraced a lie. I have been told all my life that fairy tales are not real; that there is no Prince Charming; that love like that doesn’t exist. That is the lie. The truth, I’ve discovered, is that the fairy tale is real! Not only am I the damsel in distress, but Prince Charming has come to slay the dragon and to carry me off to a place where we will live happily ever after. The story has already been written, even to the last word of the last chapter. I am the love interest, the heroine of the story. And my Prince has gone to prepare the wedding feast, as well as a home for me beyond my wildest dreams. Though the dragon lives on and works day and night to torment me, though the battle rages on for this bride, the ending is sealed; promised; guaranteed. The dragon loses and is thrown into the fiery sea, while my Prince, my Savior carries me off to a place where there is no more crying, no more suffering, no more battle or danger or fear or shame. And the King beams with delight.

I am the beloved, loved with an everlasting love; drawn with love; strengthened with love; sustained by love. Jesus is my Bridegroom; the Lover of my soul; my Hero; my Savior; my Knight in Shining Armor. Father God is the Wise King; crowned with all glory, praise, and honor, with my Jesus by His side. And satan is the defeated dragon thrown headlong into the lake of fire. His arrows have become kindling. His minions have turned to stubble and smoke.

That is the promise. That is the ending written at the dawn of time by the Author of all things. This ending is secure. I am the beloved. My future is sealed with a Happy Ending to end all happy endings.

How can it be that I am just now discovering this? For my entire adult life I have hated fairy tales. Oh I’ve watched them; cried during them; and longed to be loved as the heroine is loved. But I hated them for toying with my emotions; for showing me what my heart longs for but can never have. Yet now I discover that they are my story and have been all along! That I have been loved with that kind of love. The longing was His invitation to come to Him. The disappointment, the despair, the dashed dreams were all misguided and misspent because what I longed for was mine all the time.

How can this be so? And yet I know it to be true. No, I cannot feel His arms about me. I cannot gaze into His eyes. He has not carried me off into the sunset of eternity where we will live together happily ever after—yet. But that is my promise—made by the King Himself. I have it in writing! And it is sealed with the precious blood of my Savior—the One Who laid down His life that I might live.

My husband is not my Prince Charming. He was never meant to be. The hopes I pinned on him were impossible for him to live up to. I had pinned them on the wrong person.

“There could never be anyone for me but you…,” the lover in the movie testifies to his beloved. The music swells; the couple embraces, kissing one another deeply, tenderly, passionately. Tears of longing tumble down my cheeks, threatening to turn to tears of disbelief. And yet I do believe. This time instead of emptiness, as I accept the invitation I am filled with anticipation; I am drawn to my True Love, the Author of this sacred romance….

Of course I am not the only beloved. This bride is but one facet of the bride as a whole, though the Bridegroom is One and complete. I am my Beloved’s and His desire is for me…. It has been this way all along.

I never knew…. I never knew….

Yes, my friend, the fairy tale is real. We can set our heart on this new hope knowing that someday it will be reality. Until then, He will continue to woo us with sweeping melodies and fragrant roses and blushing sunsets. He will court us with afternoon thundershowers and pastels at daybreak. He will thrill us with the newness of another springtime; He will warm us with the hot breath of summer; chill us with crisp autumn days; and delight us with fresh fallen snow, wafting down, silently creating a winter wonderland of white. He will dazzle us with a full moon; huge and orange rising on the horizon, and shooting stars falling through a satiny black sky. He will serenade us with the birds’ morning songs and the laughter of our children. Why? Because He loves us that much! He loves us—you and me—with a love so daring, so passionate, so consuming—yet tender and gentle and kind. He loves us the way we always wanted to be loved—needed to be loved—longed to be loved…. He is the Lover of our dreams, the fulfillment of the longing that He placed there Himself. He authored our longing, our desires, our needs so that He would be the perfect Filler of them. How much better could it get?

And yet I must wait to hold Him in my arms. I must wait to be carried away toward our eternal home. For now I must bide my time, holding tight to the promise, girding myself in the strength of His Spirit against the enemy that still rages against me, whispering his lies, shooting his fiery darts in a futile effort to come between my Lover and me. Ah, but his days are numbered. His time is coming. Meanwhile he flails wildly at everyone the Prince holds dear.

“Someday my Prince will come…” I hear the words rising and falling upon the melody of the old fairy tale. Except this fairy tale is true. Someday my Prince will come for me. And I will be ready; heart filled with devotion; steadfast and true; holding tightly to the promise of my Betrothed. All in due time….

We will feast together! We will dance and laugh and gaze into each other’s eyes as lovers do. I will sing for Him a love song so sweet, in a voice so perfect. And we will be together always…. Nothing will ever come between us again. I am my Beloved’s and His desire is for me.

May I never forget. May I never again listen to the lies of the enemy. Lord, let me be found faithful at the coming of my Prince….

Irreversible or Invincible?

Have you done something irreversible? Have you made that *mistake* that can't be undone? The one that causes you pain every time you think of it? I often tell my kids there isn't much (at their age) they can do that is beyond repair. Broken things can be replaced. Knees can be bandaged. Even dents can be pounded out of the fender. But as we enter into adulthood, it seems the opportunities for those irreversible, unrepairable things fly at us at break-neck speed: like losing our virginity in a moment of passion; marrying that person we know isn't right for us; insisting we are okay to drive even though we've had one too many to drink; choosing abortion instead of life.... Even saying words in the heat of anger that can never be taken back--words that cut and sting and wound.

Those things cannot be undone--virginity cannot be re-instated (though it can be spiritually restored). Marriages can be annulled or divorce can be obtained, but that marriage is always there haunting your past. And abortion.... Well, though that wound can be healed, the scar is always raised upon the heart that experienced it. Even so, there is hope for our present and for our future. As Oswald Chambers says in My Utmost For His Highest:

For those of us who belong to God through Jesus Christ, we don't have to dwell on the irreversible. We don't have to live undefeated lives. We can live Invincibly!--the Invincible* life that is ours because of Him.

_____________________
*Invincible: Incapable of being overcome or defeated; unconquerable. (According to The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language - Fourth Edition)

**This "forgetting" is not denial. It is not even "not remembering". This "forgetting" is simply not allowing the memory of the past to define or hinder your present or your future. It is remembering with gratitude and humility those "irriversible" things that have been bathed in perfect mercy, grace, and forgiveness.

The Sacred Romance

I have just finished reading the most awesome book! It's called The Sacred Romance: Drawing Closer To The Heart of God by Brent Curtis and John Eldredge. I cannot remember the last time an 'ordinary' book changed my life in such a drastic way!

You see, I am the hopeless romantic. Always have been. Probably always will be. Except that I had grown to despise Hollywood and the Brothers Grimm for having filled my sentimental heart with all those notions of damsels in distress and the knights in shining armor that rescued them. Then I read this book and learned, much to my surprise and amazement, that the fairy tale is real!

I won't spoil the ending for you, but suffice it to say, the love story is true.... The deepest longings of our hearts, the deepest desires of our souls are the powerfully subtle wooing of God calling us to a more intimate relationship with Him. He put those longings and desires in our hearts knowing He would be the only One to fill them...and He waits for each of us--you and you and me--to turn our hearts toward His so that He can satisfy our every hope and fill our every dream....

This book is a must-read for every Christian! Order a copy today!

My Utmost for His Highest

One of my goals for this year is to go through the entire book: My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers. This book is chock full of godly wisdom and some of the most inspiring and challenging precepts of Christianity.

I have used this book as a devotional for years, but I've never made it through each and every devotion. My goal is to do that this year. Happily, I have just completed the first month successfully! :-)

One down; eleven to go. So far, so good. (And yes, I'm being challenged already!)

When God Sends You A Gift

It wasn't even my birthday. Not my anniversary either. But there it was nonetheless: a present from God, all for me.

It wasn't wrapped in festive paper. It wasn't tied with a brightly colored bow. It didn't bear a hefty price tag and wasn't accompanied with the usual return receipt in case I didn't like it or it didn't fit. In this instance, I wouldn't return it for anything. It was a perfect fit for me!

This was a gift straight from God's heart to mine....

You see, my husband and I recently received a 'diagnosis' for our daughter. It wasn't life-threatening, but it was a blow to us nevertheless. The condition is one that is chronic, probably even life-long, and one that our daughter will struggle with to some degree for the rest of her days. Because of this, grief had settled into my heart. Oh, I heard the usual messages: It could be worse. Be thankful it isn't worse. But to my heart, anything that makes my daughter's life more difficult grieves me. She's had so much to deal with in her young life already.

Even so, God saw my heart and the grief that weighed it down. He knew my thoughts. He knew I needed encouragement. He knew I need hope. He knew I needed a better understanding of just what we're dealing with...and those are the gifts He sent me yesterday.

Through the course of a casual conversation while doing menial, repetitive work, heaven opened up, and God reached down His hand presenting me with the sweetest gift: words of comfort, encouragement, and hope from a new friend.

She didn't know about my daughter's diagnosis. But as she told me (and the other ladies present) about her youngest daughter and how God had blessed them, the similarities in our circumstances began to unfold. She spoke enthusiastically about how wonderfully God had blessed them and their daughter through the ways she had learned to manage her own condition, even offering support and encouragement to other families facing the same malady. This new friend helped me to understand without even knowing what I was going through.

As she finished her thoughts about her daughter, she mentioned what a gift from God all that had been. "Funny you should mention it," I replied, and I began telling her of the gift God had just given me through her.

God is all-powerful. Of that there is no doubt. He is ever-present. But of all the awesome characteristics of God, the most amazing is the unfathomable love He has for His children--the tender, compassionate, loving-kindness that He freely lavishes on those who love Him.

No, it wasn't my birthday or my anniversary. This gift from God was 'just because'... Just because He loves me....

Thank You, Father! I will give You praise forever!

When All You Can Do Is Pray

Every now and then you run across a person who is willing to open up about their deepest personal struggles. We all have them in varying degrees, (struggles, that is), but many of us are unwilling to allow others into that inner circle where the struggle rages.

This past year I met a woman who was willing. She shared her deepest struggles and secrets with me, and all she asked in return was my friendship. That was easy enough.

But, as events began to unfold in her life, I realized the struggle was more than it appeared--it was a stronghold of the enemy. Suddenly I realized my dear friend's very life was at stake.

Because I have dealt with strongholds myself, because God was gracious to me and brought me back from the 'desert' of despair, I was willing to go with my friend, to walk through this desert with her. But recently, instead of continuing to 'walk,' my friend decided to 'sit down'. Then she turned around altogether. Now, instead of going through the desert, she has returned to her 'Egypt'--the place of bondage that will be her ultimate downfall. Indeed it may even take her very life.

I told her the truth a few days ago (as I always try to do)--something all real friends should do. I told her of the potential ramifications of actively going back to the bondage. I told her it could very well cost her her life. I held up the mirror of reality so she could see (or be reminded of) how that action would affect those in her life who love her--namely her husband and children.

Likewise, I told her of the incredible possibilities that lay ahead for her should she choose to do the right thing before God. I laid out the path of victory for her, complete with confirmation that those most horrible circumstances in her life right now could someday become unrecognizable to her--that her very life as it is now, with all it's pain and misery, could become utterly and completely unrecognizable to her.... But then I told her what few of us like to hear: the choice was hers to make. This choice--to go back to bondage or to go forward in God's grace was for her and her alone to make. No one can make it for her.

As of yesterday afternoon, my friend made her choice. She chose Egypt. She chose pain for herself and everyone she cares about. She chose misery, hopelessness, fear, and possibly even death.

My heart breaks for my friend and for all who love her. But the choice was hers and she made it with full knowledge of the potential risks. I have prayed for this friend more or less daily for I don't know how long, and I will continue to pray for her.

...Sometimes that's all we can do.

Unto Us A Child Is Born...

In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. "This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

When the angels had gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds began saying to one another, "Let us go straight to Bethlehem then, and see this thing that has happened which the Lord has made known to us." So they came in a hurry and found their way to Mary and Joseph, and the baby as He lay in the manger. When they had seen this, they made known the statement which had been told them about this Child. And all who heard it wondered at the things which were told them by the shepherds. But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart. The shepherds went back, glorifying and praising God for all that they had heard and seen, just as had been told them. --Luke 2:8-20 (NAS)

God's Hand of Protection!

Some friends of ours experienced a miracle recently... Their six-month-old baby girl was ejected from their minivan as the result of a car crash--and survived with hardly a scratch! I just had to share it here... (Once you go to the URL, click on the check-mark to the right of the white box next to "Home>", then click on "Rachel's Miracle" to see the story and photos.)

"You hem me in-behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me."
--Psalm 139:5

We serve a mighty God!

The Women of Faith Conference

I spent the last 24 hours (more or less) at the Women of Faith Conference (WoFC) in Oklahoma City. It was my first time to a WoFC and I was not disappointed.

The speakers were inspiring. The music was uplifting and worshipful. The dramas and testimonies were brilliantly funny, moving, and poignant. The talent, devotion for the Lord, and commitment to excellence were profoundly evident. And the messages were insightful, compassionate, and biblically sound.

I laughed. I cried. I gave it a "10".

Here are a few things I took away from this particular conference:

Surgery - After the Fact

Alrighty then! Now I know what surgery is like. Terms like pre-op, post-op, and pain medication all have new meanings to me now.

The surgery--or surgeries, as it turned out--went well and both they and the hospital stay were pretty much as I had anticipated. The surgery was over before I knew it (hee-hee~) but the pain afterward was pretty intense, even with morphine. I was hoping to avoid the nausea, but no such luck. (At least I never threw up!)

The nursing staff was excellent--with the exception of one nurse whose name I won't mention here. I was catheter-free by 8 am Sunday morning and on my way home by 5 pm or so.

Joel has been great, taking care of me and the kids and the dog, making sure I get my meds on time, etc. Actually, everyone has been great! My family, Joel's family, friends, our church group--it's just been awesome! I've received flowers and gifts and cards and calls--so many I've had to start a list so I don't forget... People have brought us meals--quite delicious ones too! And already my pain is very manageable and under control.

My sister came yesterday, brought me a gift basket with flowers and other goodies, made me lunch, then took the kids home with her for a couple of nights so I could rest undisturbed. So the house has been quiet and I've been able to just relax knowing everything and everyone is taken care of.

I spent the day yesterday with Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy--two of my favorite (fictional) people! (If you don't know the story you'll have to check it out! It's Jane Austin's best!) And today I spent some restful time outside.

I've already faced a few things I can't do until my healing is a little further along, which is a bit frustrating. And already I've had a touch of cabin fever, but for the most part I'm doing great and following doctor's orders to the letter.

I'm glad the surgery part is behind me, but I'm glad no matter what, my God is walking beside me through this. His presence is so evident in all those He has placed in my life to love on me right now....

God is good all the time!

Surgery...

Well, today's the big day. I'm going in for my first major surgery. I'm a little anxious this morning; it's more a feeling of dread than fear, but it's there nonetheless. I have prayed over the last few days that God would fill me with His peace that passes all understanding. While my heart is not 100% at peace, I am much calmer than I expected to be at this moment!

The outpouring of love from friends and family (both biological and the family of God) has been awesome! People have called to check on me. They've offered their assistance in every way, including bringing meals to us next week after I get home!

I am just so thrilled to be a part of the Body of Christ and to be a child of God! I know that my past, present, and future are all within His hands. Nothing can befall me that He has not allowed in His infinite wisdom and unsurpassing mercy. Therein lies the peace. The remaining anxiety is just a biological response to the details!

Many times I have given my life over in complete surrender to my God--to whatever He would ordain for my life. That is my greatest desire--to be totally surrendered to Him--and to be used to bring glory and honor to His Name. The hard part, sometimes, is leaving the details to Him, accepting the hard things when they come, and staying focused on Him in the midst of crisis or pain. As I look back over these first 42 years of my life, it is in those times He has carried me, comforted me, and drawn me ever closer to His heart, making those times some of the sweetest in regard to my relationship with Him.

So yeah, I'm having surgery today, and the next few weeks may be difficult, but I know that my God will be there for me and with me, through every moment.

"Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name; you are Mine!
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
And through the rivers, they will not overflow you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched,
Nor will the flame burn you.
"For I am the LORD your God,
The Holy One of Israel, your Savior..."
--Isaiah 43:1b, 2, 3a

His Hand Upon Me

Today promises to be another hectic day, but I had to pause in the midst of all the cleaning and preparing to spend a few minutes focusing on my God.

One of my all time favorite devotionals is My Utmost For His Highest by Oswald Chambers. (The updated version is much easier to understand than the original, while retaining the significance).

Today's devotion has to do, in some part, with God having His hand upon us. Oswald says, "Whenever His hand is laid upon you, it gives inexpressible peace and comfort, and the sense that "underneath are the everlasting arms" (Deut. 33:27), full of support, provision, comfort, and strength."

I mentioned in yesterday's entry that some of my friends are going through some really difficult times right now. One dear friend was diagnosed with cancer last week. Two others are dealing with chronic pain disorders, in addition to serious financial troubles. Another is struggling in her marriage. And yet another has some medical problems which the doctors have yet to diagnose, much less properly treat.

While my heart is broken for all these friends, I know that God's hand is upon each one. The only way that I know this is that I, too, have been through similarly "hopeless" and fiery situations--and His hand was upon me. I have always said, if He cared for me, He will care for you.... The results may not be what we desire in the physical, earthly realm, but our God is Sovereign, and nothing can hinder His perfect Sovereign will for our lives. If our hearts are open to Him, even--and especially--in our troubles, He will be there for us in a way that is beyond anything we've ever experienced before, with peace, comfort, provision, support, and strength.

Psalm 139 stresses how God has His hand upon us.... And it is because of that we can have hope.

I cannot help but pray for my friends today, that they will experience the reality of God's hand upon their lives today, in a unique, special, and unforgettable way; that He will indeed be their strength, their supply, their peace, their comfort, and their provision--above and beyond all they could ask or imagine.

You hem me in-behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.
Psalm 139:5