A Man's Joy

The girls photographing Trumpeter Swans in Yellowstone.

Psalm 111:2  Great are the works of the Lord, studied by all who delight in them.

I want to share two things about the trip I recently took which brought me tremendous joy. This doesn't take away from the joy of just being with my bride through this—away from phones, email, the fire department pager, etc. She is my best friend and my pal and she knows in complete security how much I treasured that time hanging out with her, and she understands what I am about to say (and rejoices with me in them)!

Abigail capturing a Yellowstone Geyser.

The first thing was to be able to see this land with the scales removed from my eyes. The last time I saw most of the land we traveled through I probably gave a nominal nod to God having created it, but I certainly didn't believe the Bible's account of how He did . . . and I found myself struggling to fully understand the land with the explanations given of evolution, millions of years of slow change, etc. I accepted it because "science" said it was true, but while the land was beautiful, I missed the most glorious part of it. This time, though, I was able to travel the land with a whole different pair of glasses. Instead of the old earth, uniformitarianism view of slow change at the rate of change we see today, I was able to see the land through the eyes of the Bible and (wow!) it changed everything!

Bethany photographing the
Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone

In preparation for what we call our "Creation Trip" I was privileged to talk with different people—some with degrees in geology, one with a Masters degree in atmospheric science, another with a Ph.D. in evolutionary biology—scientists and lay people with degrees who used to be old earth evolutionists and are now young earth Creationists. They were able to talk to me about the land we'd be traveling through and tell me what we should make a point to see and how we could see Biblical evidence in it. We also were able to get different guidebooks and geology books written from a young earth Creationist scientist perspective and read them as we traveled.

Abigail in the Tetons.

I can't tell you how amazing that was, and how the land I traveled through finally made sense! When you know what to look for and see it through the lens of a young earth, spoken Creation with age; followed by the curse of sin and a catastrophic global flood and the scaring of receding waters; followed by rupturing inland bodies of water; followed by a singular ice age; suddenly the land around you reads like a book. All of a sudden the scales were falling off and I could see clearly, and it was stunning. I was in awe of what I saw, in awe picturing the land through its different phases, and in frequent prayer and lifting of praises to the One to whom it all is attributed. It was an incredible joy and privilege, and I'll never be the same for it.

Abigail posing Mom by a T-Rex (I believe)
at the Museum of the Rockies.

The second thing that brought me tremendous joy that I want to share was to travel the land as a father and to simply take pictures of my girls taking pictures! Yes, I took pictures of scenery for pleasure and some times for maybe using later in teachings, but the most fun was watching them and capturing them seeing the land through their eyes. We had spent quite a bit of time teaching them photography as part of homeschool before the trip so they could make the most of it, and to see them using those skills and processing God's Creation was a father's joy. It was simply incredible to see their faces the first time they saw a grizzly, or a geyser, or the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, or found their first fossil, or . . .

Bethany photographing in the
John Day fossil area of Oregon.

I am reminded of Hebrews 11—God's New Testament Hall of Fame of faith. In it He lists praise after praise of His children who stood in faith. If we read the Old Testament each of them had faults and shortcomings, but on the other side of the cross He has washed those away and He simply delights in bragging on His kids. I thought of that as I stared at this incredible scenery . . . and found the greatest joy taking pictures of my girls taking pictures of it. It was truly a father's joy to share this with them and to see their eyes being opened to God, His Creation, His Creativity, and His evidence.

Hebrews 11:3 By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible.

I'll post a few more pictures of my girls taking pictures tomorrow for those who might enjoy them. Thanks for reading, sharing in my life, and caring. Blessings to all of you.   —Erick

"Yes, but . . ."

I think a fair question to ask ourselves as Christians is, "Where does the true emphasis of our thoughts, hope, and expectancy lie?" As one person recently shared at a men's gathering I was at, "You can tell a Marine!" talking about their shaved head, huge stickers on their trucks, and the way they carry themselves. We all laughed but then he asked, "Why is it so hard to tell a Christian man who is supposed to be light and joy against a dark world?" The room got a lot more quiet.

We are supposed to be different. Not Polyanaish or naive but different. People of words of hope and joy and other-focused instead of people of grumbling and complaining and anger and bitterness and self-focus. After all, we have the Creator of the universe loving us, saving us, and living in us sealing us for an eternal relationship with Him in a home He's prepared for us free of all sickness and tears and death and sorrow.

One of the ways I have found in myself and others to see what the true emphasis of our thoughts, hopes, and expectancies is comes from looking at what comes in a sentence after the word "but." (I read something like this some time back and I can't remember where. It struck me at the time and I was reflecting on it again today. I wish I could remember the source so I could credit it, but God knows. I'll share my memory with my reflections included. I am not saying this is in any way hard and fast, but it does bear noting.) What I mean is this: do our sentences contain the structure, "God is so huge, God is so wonderful, God loves me, God is with me, but . . . " and then follow the "but" with a list of all our problems which give the problems the biggest emphasis and leave the problems as the last, trumping thought and memory and focus? Or, do our words follow a structure of, "I am struggling with this and that and facing this or that, but . . . " and then go into praises of God and His faithfulness and love and power, leaving a sense that God is truly the biggest emphasis and focus and final thought?

Maybe you've seen this in yourself or others. I know I have in me. Statements that seem to give the "proper," courtesy theological nod to God but then truly dwell on the problems and obstacles and negative possibilities versus the statements that acknowledge the problems and issues but then put their true weight and expectancy and hope and joy on a deep recognition of who God is and what He promises us. There is a big difference. As Christians we sometimes seem to feel this "obligation" to mention God and His love and control, etc., but too often are really consumed with our problems and simply giving an obligatory nod to God because we, as Christians, are "supposed" to. The weight and emphasis of our words often reveal that. But then you meet that amazing person who has problems and doesn't sugar coat them or pretend they aren't real but whose words reveal that the genuine joy and hope and power of their thoughts and life is their amazing God and His love and power and promises.

Maybe, in a slightly different way, you've experienced the person with major issues who seems to want to talk and talk about them and when you offer to pray for them they let you and are quiet long enough for you to but then, almost before you finish the "amen" they are back into all their problems and horrible expectancies, etc. It is as if they were holding their breath through the whole prayer, letting you pray because as Christians that is the thing to do, but in reality they aren't even hearing or believing in the prayer and are poised to jump in talking about themselves and the problems they face as soon as the prayer is "out of the way" and the Christian "duty" done. I am not trying to be callous in that but if you've experienced it you know what I mean—you pour your heart into praying for someone for their medical or other issues and you believe you are connecting with God and you are appealing to His awesome, star-breathing, love and power and you are barely done and it is as if you just shared the weather or sports score for all the impact your prayer had on their expectancy or attitude. I feel for these Christians, and I've been that Christian, and it is so hard to be in a place where we intellectually nod at God but our heart is overwhelmed with, and consumed by, our problems and life.

Faith has an object, and the object of Christian faith is God. Abraham, Sarah, and others are given in the Bible as examples of people in faith because they considered the One promising faithful. God is the object. God is why we are confident and hopeful and joyous. God. And that is why I think we are encouraged to "be still and know that I am God" by God. Faith as some "thing" we are supposed to have and we intellectually talk about because we feel guilty not talking about it is empty. Faith is not a "thing." It is our confidence and trust in God and His love and power and promises and Word. Our words can be a real clue to the condition of our faith. The same sentence can describe our problems and describe our God, but the placement of the word "but" can reveal a whole lot about the heart.

Laugh a Little More 1

I love to laugh. I don't do it enough. I get so serious and caught up in stuff, and yet . . . aren't we a faith of joy? Aren't we a faith of coming like children? Aren't we a faith that, while we deal with serious stuff, we have a great big Father in Heaven who loves us and calls us His own? Some time back I started collecting Christian jokes—clean, God-centered things that made me laugh and smile. I don't think we need to divide our life into compartments where we have the work stuff, the God stuff, the fun stuff, the (you fill in the blank) stuff, etc. I believe that our faith can cross all the lines, and I have found that there really are out there a lot of fun, God-centered, clean jokes. So, now and then, I'll share my favorites with you. I've said from the start that this blog is simply a place for me to share reflections, thoughts, things God is showing me, slices of my life, etc. So, I hope no one is bothered by this or wishes everything was theology. We need to laugh! The world needs to see that side of us too, not just a serious message. I'd love to have you send me your favorite Christian joke(s).

So, here's the first. I have no idea how often I'll throw these in among my other sharings and thoughts. Let me know if they make you smile, too.

Locked Car Door
    A woman was at work when she received a phone call that her daughter was very sick with a fever. She left her work and stopped by the pharmacy to get some medication. She got back to her car and found that she had locked her keys in the car.
    She didn't know what to do, so she called home and told the baby sitter what had happened. The baby sitter told her that her the fever was getting worse. She said, "You might find a coat hanger and use that to open the door."
    The woman looked around and found an old rusty coat hanger that had been thrown down on the ground, possibly by someone else who at some time or other had locked their keys in their car. Then she looked at the hanger and said, "I don't know how to use this."
    So she bowed her head and asked God to send her some help. Within five minutes an old rusty car pulled up with a dirty, greasy, bearded man who was wearing an old biker skull rag on his head. The woman thought, "This is what you sent to help me?" But, she was desperate, so she was also very thankful.
    The man got out of his car and asked her if he could help. She said, "Yes, my daughter is very sick. I stopped to get her some medication and I locked my keys in my car. I must get home to her. Please, can you use this hanger to unlock my car?"
    He said, "Sure". He walked over to the car, and in less than a minute the car was opened. She hugged the man and through her tears she said, "Thank you so much! You are a very nice man."
    The man replied, "Lady, I am not a nice man. I just got out of prison today. I was in prison for car theft and have only been out for about an hour."
    The woman hugged the man again and with sobbing tears cried out loud, "Oh, Thank you God! You even sent me a professional!"
(author unknown)

What’s Been Stolen?

Recently someone was at our house and twice, while they were here, they looked over the hills, through the oaks, and down the valley (standing somewhat close to where this picture was taken last January) and said something to the effect of, “It’s so beautiful!” Once they added, “It’s so peaceful! I’ve looked all my life for a place like this!”

When they said that I was rattled. I realized that the same view they saw as beautiful was, too often to me, a sea of “to do” items—broken fence wiring going back to when a neighbor’s runaway bison crashed through it, a broken gate a neighbor’s bull smashed, weeds that needed mowing with fire season knocking on our door, ground squirrels that needed controlling, a dam that needed fixing, firewood that needed hauling and cutting and splitting, a well that needed electrical work . . . all that and more, and, it felt like, limited time and money to do any of it. Amazing . . . we were looking at the same view, and yet the viewpoint was so different!

Many times Mary Ann and I have said, and had to remind ourselves when we get drug down by things undone, “If we had visited this place before we owned it, we’d have said that if we ever had a place like this we’d be happy for the rest of our lives there!” It is a two-fold reminder:

1) No thing, or accomplishment, or position will ever make you or me permanently happy. Only God can do that.

2) The enemy seeks to always take what is good and steal it, and if we aren’t careful, we let him. Too often, if we aren't careful, we can start to primarily see the negative side of things. Granted, in the case like our property, I am the one who has to deal with those things and they don’t, but there is still tremendous good and blessing in it (it is a gift from God!) and if I am not careful I can miss, or lose that. Philippians 4:8 tells us, “. . . whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” Other translations say to "meditate" on these things, and I believe to meditate on it we, ourselves, must first see it. That is something we must practice because, all too often, it doesn’t come naturally.

So . . . take a look around you. What blessings from God—maybe a person, or persons; a job; a home; a situation; your body; your imperfect church; or ???—have you either taken for granted, or started to see only the negative in, or allowed to be stolen from your thoughts? I encourage you to refresh and renew your gratitude for it, and lift a praise and a thanks to God, from Whom every good and perfect gift comes (James 1:17).

Wishing you intimacy and joy in the Lord,
Erick

The Heart of Stone Rolled Away . . .

Luke 24:1-12   But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared. And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in dazzling apparel. And as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, "Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee,  that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise." And they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb they told all these things to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene and Joanna and Mary the mother of James and the other women with them who told these things to the apostles, but these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter rose and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; and he went home marveling at what had happened.

Q: When did Jesus say, “It is finished?”
A: On the cross.

Q: When did the disciples “get it”?
A: The verse above, as well as some other verses (try John 12:16 and John 2:22), plus what the Bible records about the disciples hiding in fear of the Jews, would seem to indicate that it wasn’t until after the resurrection and glorification of Jesus.

The work was done on the cross, but it wasn’t received by them and made their own until after they met the risen Christ—until after the Spirit rolled away the stone of their heart, and the veil that masked their understanding was torn. It was then, it seems, that they realized what was done, and who He really was. The work was done on the cross, and made their own on Easter Sunday, but that Saturday in between those days (“The Darkest Day” which I speculated about in yesterday’s post), seems to me like such a picture of the lost world (and of each believer before they realized who He was and gave their life to Him)—the work is already done for us, but we live in the darkness not realizing it.

Sometimes this is, I fear, a picture of the Christian’s life as well. There are too many things I am anxious about, or afraid about, or in doubt about, when, in fact, the work is already done by Him, and the promise is already given by Him, and it is just mine to make my own through faith. Too often, it seems, I live in “Saturday.” Like Sarah and Abraham, I don’t have the faith to trust God at His promises and take Him at His word. But, I am so encouraged by Sarah and Abraham’s story as well, because Hebrews 11 assures us that even if we begin without faith in one of His promises or aspects of His character, we can turn to Him and consider Him faithful who has promised. Like Sarah, then, that faith will become the power to bring forth the life that is dormant in the seed of His promise, just waiting for the water and light of our faith to bring it forth.

This morning I plan to teach at our fellowship on many of the different emotions and fears and “confusions” that might have been swirling in the disciples on Saturday, that were swept away or answered on Sunday. The cry, “He’s Alive!” truly makes all the difference in the world, and I hope that each and every one of you have a joyous and wonderful day today celebrating that victory, and the hope and purpose it brings! And, remember—even when our faith falters, and our step stumbles, and the cry of “He’s Alive!” maybe doesn’t seem to carry the power it should to us, we have the cross of Friday towering over us, covering us in the shadow of its mercy and grace, and testifying of His amazing love. Wow! Words truly do fall short of describing what this whole period of time in our Lord’s life means for us . . .

The Darkest Day . . .

You wake up and, for a moment, feel like you’ve had the worst dream of your life . . . and then you realize it wasn’t a dream. You lie there and hope, and go over the day before, but then you realize, that hope as you might, yesterday really happened. Yesterday you watched them beat and mutilate and mock and kill the One you had thought was God’s Son, the One you had left everything to follow, the One you had endured hostility and persecution to walk behind, the One who had maybe cast seven demons out of you, or had healed you of a crippling disease . . . the One who had offered you love and hope and peace with God when others condemned you and judged you and looked at you with contempt and cast you out.

Yesterday, after the earthquake and the darkened sky and the rumors of dead people walking around Jerusalem, you had hoped, waited, for something to change. You’d seen Him die, there was no doubt about it, but didn’t the signs in the sky mean something? Weren’t the Heavens displaying their anger—and He was going to awaken on the cross, or right after Joseph took Him down, and display your justification, and destroy your enemies, and prove He was God?

You’d waited, and waited, and hope had begun to die, and slowly fear, and numbness, and uncertainty, and hopelessness had crept in. You had watched evil win, and goodness die . . . but was He even good if He had lied and deceived so many of you? Yesterday, every secret knock on the door as you hid from the Jews, every rushing person past the window, awakened a hope. You sat up, crying in your heart for someone to tell you it had changed. But, eventually, somehow, exhausted and drained and broken and racked with sorrow, you’d fallen asleep and awoken this Saturday morning, hoping it had all been a bad dream, but the dirt on your clothes from last night where you’d fallen to the ground sobbing shatters even that hope and testifies that yesterday really happened. Jesus is dead—and He didn’t even defend Himself! He didn’t even DO anything to stop them! Anger at Him mixes with your sadness in a horrible soup in your soul. Two days ago you life had purpose and meaning and direction—you were a follower of Jesus! Today He is dead, and you have . . . nothing! Even worse, you have nowhere to go back to—you are alienated from all that you left, and there is no place for you any longer. Two days ago you had dared to believe that even your life might be redeemable before God . . . but today, you realize you are without hope of redemption at all.

Today is the darkest of days. The Jews continue their celebrations and feasts, and the One who offered you freedom from the law and religion and guilt and fear of God continues to lie in the grave. All of the ones who warned you about Him, and who threw you out for following Him, were right and you were wrong. Now what? You’ve left everything, for what? For a lie? Now, each footstep outside the window brings fear. Are you the next one to be arrested and crucified? Are all the promises and hope and love and acceptance He offered you now a mocking memory that laughs in your face? Clearly the Jews and your family and neighbors were right—and it only rips open the wounds His love and acceptance had begun to heal, and pours salt into them.

What about the power He displayed, the authority He spoke with, the way your religious leaders had backed down before Him, the healings He performed? What about them? Were they a show? No! You don’t want to believe that! You know what you were before He touched you, and how different you are now! But . . . what about the miracles? Was He a necromancer or sorcerer? He clearly had power, but your religious leaders had condemned Him. You’d thought He was good. You’d thought He was from God—but maybe they were right. Maybe you laughed with, and believed in, and ate with, and helped, a man working miracles by the power of Beelzebub as the religious teachers claimed. While He was beside you as they accused Him there was no way you could believe it—He was so good! You felt such pure love, for the first time ever! But now, He’s dead, and they’re still alive and in charge. Could you have been wrong? How could something so good have been so deceiving . . . and what now? What was next?

You thought yesterday, watching Jesus be beaten, mocked, “tried,” and crucified, was the worst day of your life . . . but today promises to be even worse—the darkest day of your life—because at least yesterday, up to the end, you’d clung to hope . . . but today there is no more, and without hope we perish. Yesterday you kept hoping that He’d finally say, “Enough!” and defend Himself. Yesterday you’d hoped that maybe He’d just fainted . . . but, seeing His mutilated body, and the blood and water pour from the spear hole, you knew deep down inside that He was really dead. Yesterday you’d hoped the Heavens would open and He would open His eyes and wrong would be made right. But today . . . He really is dead. It’s not a dream. And He is now wrapped in burial clothes and in a tomb with a massive stone in front of it, guarded by soldiers. If anything was going to happen it would have been yesterday, or last night, but today it is too late. Any hope that you had clung to is gone, and your life lies around you—shattered, impossible to fix. Yesterday you saw evil win, you saw evil have its greatest victory . . . but now you don’t even know what is evil and what is good anymore. Today is going to be a very long and dark day—if you even live through it . . .

Little do you know that tomorrow morning the knock will come, and the words will fly to your ears, “He’s Alive!” Little do you know that within a few days all the Scriptures you’ve known for years, and all the mysterious things He said, will suddenly make sense, and that you will realize that while you thought evil was working its greatest victory, and the wicked were going to prosper, God was in fact turning evil against itself and He was working His greatest victory! Little do you know that, within a few weeks, you will have touched the risen Jesus, been taught by the risen Jesus, watched the risen Jesus ascend into Heaven, and been filled with a fire, and the Spirit of God, and a sense of purpose and destiny that will carry you around the region declaring His truth, demonstrating His power, and proclaiming His name until you, too, joyously go to join Him!

“Today,” may look like the darkest of days, upwelling with hopelessness, doubt, fear, or frustration; seeming to scream out that darkness reigns, and that God must be either dead or uncaring or not real—but “tomorrow’s” cry of, “He’s Alive!” reminds us that, even when we don’t see it or understand how, God is always at work and on our side—and hope, peace, joy, eternal life are ours today, because He lives!

It Must Have Been Amazing . . .

Maybe I'm the only one . . . but for years, hearing the story of the shepherds in their field watching their sheep by night, all my attention has been on the angel. Maybe because I know, from reading the Bible, that the angels were probably far more mighty and awesome than we usually portray them as pudgy, baby-faced, and just floating around with wings and a harp. Maybe because the Christmas pageants show mainly just the angel and because the angel is the one who delivers the message. I'm not sure why, but until recently I had glazed past the fact that something else was there that night as well . . .

And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them . . .

The glory of the Lord! Wow! There they were, out at night, tending their sheep and a mighty angel from Heaven appears, and the glory of the Lord comes down also. A simple word search of the Old Testament will reveal that the glory of the Lord isn't just some "feeling" or "warm fuzzy" because an angel is around. It is the weighty, tangible presence of our holy God in some way I don't fully understand. A small sampling of the many verses in which we find it mentioned makes that abundantly clear:

Ex 24:17 Now the appearance of the glory of the Lord was like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain in the sight of the people of Israel.

Ex 40:34-35 Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle. And Moses was not able to enter the tent of meeting because the cloud settled on it, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle.

1 Kings 8:10-11  And when the priests came out of the Holy Place, a cloud filled the house of the Lord, so that the priests could not stand to minister because of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord filled the house of the Lord.

2 Chron 7:1-3  As soon as Solomon finished his prayer, fire came down from heaven and consumed the burnt offering and the sacrifices, and the glory of the Lord filled the temple. And the priests could not enter the house of the Lord, because the glory of the Lord filled the Lord's house. When all the people of Israel saw the fire come down and the glory of the Lord on the temple, they bowed down with their faces to the ground on the pavement and worshiped and gave thanks to the Lord, saying, "For he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever."

Ezek 1:28  Like the appearance of the bow that is in the cloud on the day of rain, so was the appearance of the brightness all around. Such was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord. And when I saw it, I fell on my face, and I heard the voice of one speaking.


It is no wonder, then, that the shepherds were, ". . . filled with fear." There was an angel—reason enough—and the glory of the Lord. I can only imagine that in a moment these men, who were raised under the Law and who knew much about God's holiness and justice and wrath, and little about His love, were filled with terror. His glory must have, in a moment, destroyed any pretense of their own goodness or righteousness as they were in the presence of His holiness. How their righteousness must have suddenly seemed as filthy rags, and how terror must have filled their souls. But then . . .


"Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy that will be for all the people...” and the message of a Savior—One to save and not condemn them, One to do what they could not, One to free them, One to make them right with God—was given! No wonder it was proclaimed, "Glory to God in the highest!" At that moment there is no chance they could have claimed any glory for themselves. His manifest presence and holiness would have stripped them of any pretense and it would have been clear to all—man and angel alike—that God alone was doing the salvation, and to Him be the glory!


How they must have been filled with joy as they went out, found this good news to be true, and returned glorify and praising God and telling what they had seen and heard! It must have been amazing . . .

A Christmas Wish, Story, and Thought . . .

First, a Christmas wish. I wish each and every one of you the joy of Christmas. May the message and wonder of salvation and God's love permeate your spiritual pores until it embodies all you are and think. May it so fill you with joy and peace that no circumstance that comes your way can dent it. May you find your heart and hands and voice lifted toward heaven with uncontainable, spontaneous awe and worship and love and adoration!

Second, a neat story. We spent Monday in Carmel on our "traditional" (in our family, anything twice becomes tradition) day of Christmas shopping and hanging out with my mom. We begin the "tradition" each time (this is our second time) with my dad joining us for coffee at Il Fornio, and we are batting 100% in getting the seat by the fire. You can enjoy the moment with us in our "traditional" picture, above. Last year's picture is in the right column of the blog, a ways down, if you want to see how much the girls are growing in a year (or how well I am aging—ha, ha).

Anyway, while shopping mom took the girls for a few minutes to a store so Mary Ann and I could be clandestine and get a few things. About five minutes before leaving Carmel Plaza to rejoin them, my left ankle started hurting with a real sharp pain that made it uncomfortable walking. We crossed the street and a woman passed in front of us on the sidewalk, being pushed in a wheelchair by a man whom I assume was her husband. We fell in step behind them and as I looked at her foot in a cast I thought about Jesus and Christmas and His love and power. I spoke kind of loud to them as they were a few steps ahead of us, "Can we pray for you?" They stopped and said, "Okay."

Now often people caught like that think you mean, "Can I pray for you sometime in the future or when I think about it." They usually don't think you mean "right now, on this corner, in downtown Carmel" so I quickly added "now" and moved up beside them. Mary Ann joined me and I put my hand on the woman's shoulder and we all bowed our heads there by the intersection and I asked God to pour out over them, to defy the doctors with her healing, and for it to be the best, most God-filled Christmas they have ever had. After we were done praying they thanked us and we parted. As we left them and began walking up a hill toward our rendezvous with my mom and the girls, I noticed that MY ankle pain was gone! How cool is that!

Third, a Christmas thought. I shared this in much more detail with our church on Sunday, but I wanted to share its core here with all of you as well.

When the angel appeared to the shepherds he said, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord” (Lu 2:10-11). There is, in this proclamation, the foundation of our whole faith and joy. When everything else is stripped away, when theology is confusing us more than helping us, when life has broken us, there is a place of joy we can turn to.

The angels said that the birth of Christ (which would end at the cross) was:
1) Good News!
2) of Great Joy!
and it was to all the people! He didn't say, "to people of secure finances" or "to people who have a great marriage" or "to those who have it all together." No, he said that this good news, of great joy, was available to all people. Now Jesus didn't go and fix every earthly problem, but He did pay for our sins that we might be restored to our Father in heaven if we would embrace His gift and Lordship. So, this is clearly an "eternal" joy—a joy fixed on our eternal condition, tied in to Jesus' role as Savior. It shows the Father's emphasis on eternity over simply the now (though I do believe He desires us to joyfully walk in, and use, the authority He gives us to tackle and destroy the works of the devil in this life, as well).

The other day I hit a real low spot. I wasn't sure anymore what this pastoring was about or supposed to look like, or what I was supposed to be telling people, and it seemed like every "theological" conclusion I came to I was finding a verse to contradict it. I felt closer to stepping down than I have ever felt, and I was sitting by the fire with Mary Ann and I told her, "I don't know what this is about any more." She said, "Yes, you do." She then said something to the effect of, "God loves you and He sent His Son to die for you and you are His forever." It was utterly simple, and it touched and stirred something so deep in me I can't explain it. When all else is stripped away, when you feel like a failure, when life crashes in, that is the core, foundational message that it all comes back to—that is the message that never changes or leaves you—it is the good news, of great joy, that is unto me and you. This doesn't mean we take joy in clear victories of the devil, but it does mean that no matter what is stripped away there is, at the core, a place that can't be touched and which we must always return to—a place which simply is our eternal, born again, new creation life with God that can't be taken from us, and that came because His Son came to earth and died for us out of a love beyond our comprehension.

The utter simplicity and foundational essence of that reminder brought to life for me, again, the Christmas proclamation—and I hope it helps you, too. God bless each and every one of you, and Merry Christmas!

That's My God!

I want to share another story from Gayle Erwin’s book That Reminds Me of Another Story . . . (you can read another post sharing a story from his book in my November 16, 2009 post “Coffee and Angels”).

This story tremendously touched my heart. It reminded me of Amy’s story of her first Christmas in which she, for the first time, understood and personally “owned” the words found in Christmas carols she’d sung all her life. (Her story is in my November 18, 2009 post “A Christmas Memory to Share . . .”).

Here’s the story, then a few thoughts:

Ezekiel Guti thanked me profusely for taking him to Universal Studios theme park in California. Guti, founder of a very large organization of black churches in Zimbabwe, was not excited about the rides or other shows. He especially appreciated the knowledge of how they fooled our eyes and made things seem to be something that they were not.

He explained, “My people are not sophisticated enough to know that this is trickery. They think that what they see on the movie screen is what actually happened. This is wonderful that I can go back and tell them the truth.”

I tell you this to introduce another event of great proportions. Another friend, Bruce Coble, went from Tennessee to Zimbabwe to serve as the director of Gutis’ Bible College. He became a much-loved person to the students. On one of his trips back to the United States, Bruce collected some of his favorite videotapes to take back and show to the students. The tapes included Hollywood’s version of The Ten Commandments. The classic scene in the movie is the parting of the Red Sea. Bruce found it difficult to tell me this story without choking up with tears, but he said that when the students saw that depiction on the screen, as far as they knew, the camera was actually there recording the scene. They got so excited that they were all standing on their chairs shouting, That’s my God! That’s my God!”

Such straightforward love of God!

Back to my thoughts. It is truly touching to me to see a people who so unashamedly rejoice and shout about the works of their God, and who so personally claim Him as their very own. I see people shout like crazy at sporting events, cheer for celebrities, etc., but rarely do I hear people shout with childlike joy and pride at the works of our Father, be it the miraculous, the healing of a marriage, the salvation from depression or addiction, or any way in which He works. I know that this story truly challenged my heart. May it will speak to yours as well. God bless you all.

You Never Let Go . . .

Tonight I put on Matt Redman's song about God called "You Never Let Go" and I turned it real loud (it is a good thing we live in the country and don't have neighbors!). I clicked the button to send it in to the kitchen where Mary Ann was working and then looked at Abigail who was sitting in the living room and singing along. I held my arms open to her in our "do you want me to pick you up?" posture and her face lit up and she beamed and jumped up and in to my arms. I picked her up to the ceiling and then swung her around and around and put her on my shoulder and spun around as we sang and danced to the song about how God never let's go of us, through the highs and through the lows.

Soon Bethany runs in to the room laughing and calling out, "My turn!" and she got the same as we laughed and sang and danced around. Soon both girls were on my shoulders being spun around at the same time as we restarted the song for a second play through. After I set the girls down and we laughed while the song played I "ambushed" Mary Ann who had come in to the room and soon SHE was on my shoulder being spun around laughing. As I spun my girls and sang to the song I had a thought---I believe from God---which I shared with my girls after the song was over.

I said, "You know girls, you could have never enjoyed that if you were afraid of me letting you go." They paused. I then added, "If you were afraid of me letting you go what was intended to be joyful would have been fearful."

Bethany says, "Like the song is about."

Yeah---out of the mouth of a babe. She gets it. We got it. We can't have the joy God intends us to have if we are afraid He will let us go. What He intends to be joy will be fear instead if we don't trust Him. Good thing that His Word promises that He will never let go of those who have invited Him to be Lord of their life!