Linnea's Lines

When Peace is Elusive

We yearn for peace but turn away 
from the one certain source that will not die,
	a fifth dimension of hope
	that is founded on truth.
It is transparent reality, not wishful thinking,
	but cannot be seen
	by cataract-laced eyes;
it is only even partly known by those
	committed to the Great Beyond
	while in the Here and Now--

That is, until the surgery is done
that cleans the inner vision, cuts away
	the barriers to knowing,
	even to vital feeling.
We need that intervention to be whole,
	to help make peace
	that dissolves anger
and streams light into the shadowed world.
	Please come! Free all the slaves
	from chains they do not see!

When I wrote this poem a decade ago I was dealing with chaos across the ocean where I lived. Now we are living in chaotic times right here in the U.S. It is not easy to find peace that is not just a superficial “everything will be all right!” What is that “fifth dimension of hope?”

There is just one place to find that confidence: when we are in the Presence of God, Sovereign of the Universe. And how do we get there? Through prayer, prayer that receives what he gives us in return:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ⁷ And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Phil. 4:6,7 NIV)

That is truth. When we are focused on him, pleading but also thanking him for goodness and grace, the God who is love will fill us with a kind of peace that cannot be explained otherwise.

Our problem is our blurry vision that cannot see into that “fifth dimension.”

During the past few months I’ve been noticing that my eyesight is changing: I can no longer easily read signs while I’m driving, and when I try to read music to play on the piano I’m not sure of some of the symbols until I cock my head and get closer. I had a visit with my ophthalmologist last week and he confirmed that I was experiencing a real change in my vision, and that it is due to cataracts growing too big! I am slated to have surgery to remove them—I can’t wait to see clearly again!

So the imagery of “cataract-laced eyes” is now intensely personal! When I try to keep my heart-eyes focused on that “transparent reality” that is God’s sovereignty, I cannot see clearly due to all the distractions that intrude. Hopes dashed, anxieties simmering, news that absorbs us, misplaced priorities—yes, all those things make it hard to stay thankful and to trust in God’s purposes. How can we get rid of whatever “cataracts” are blurring our vision?

If only I could constantly take the gift that is offered me:

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. (1 Pet. 5:7 NIV)

Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken. (Ps. 55:22 NIV)

Do we believe it? Do we receive it? Do we let the LORD, Yahweh, do that surgery that removes the cataracts from our heart-eyes so that we can see clearly, no obstacles blocking our vision? He will hold us fast. He will not let his dear ones “be shaken,” their faith shattered.

So whatever is concerning us in our personal lives or in the world, we just need to come to him and let him take care of it. Then we keep walking forward, seeing more clearly the path laid out for us:

Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding; ⁶ think about Him in all your ways, and He will guide you on the right paths. (Prov. 3:5,6 CSB))

I memorized that as a child in a translation that rendered the last line, “he will make your paths straight.” Both versions explain his guidance, his protection from getting lost or stumbling. I stumbled this morning while walking in my neighborhood, thinking too much about these themes of anxiety and peace—as a result I didn’t notice the height of the curb as I moved from the street onto the sidewalk! I was not keeping focused. It underlines for me the importance of keeping in tune with my Guide, listening to his prompts, accepting his warnings. Then even though we may be momentarily distracted, we won’t be seriously injured:

The LORD makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; ²⁴ though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the LORD upholds him with his hand. (Ps. 37:23,24 NIV)

Then, as his light streams into this shadowed world, we not only see clearly, we are held by the loving King of Everything!

That One Thing

When I heard him say, “Seek my face,”

my heart skipped a beat like a goat leaping high

to land on a ledge then jump to the top

of a high crag, flat, and shaded by pines

to find him there, his face lit up

by the rising sun.

I wanted to ask him to share with me

some reasons behind all the suffering,

to draw me a map of the road laid out

for the coming days. But standing before him

I suddenly knew that one thing alone

was priority.

So I bowed my heart

and listened.

The fire of his Presence warmed my soul,

the light from his eyes swept clean

the dingy crannies, the hoarded toys,

and I flew like a moth right into that flame

and found it health and life and love,

all dross removed.

To find his face is to be with him,

to know his heart and to rest, assured

that he rules the world and is wholly good,

that his Family is his true delight,

that he knows all about me

yet hugs me close.

Your face, Lord,

I will seek.[1]

“To seek his face” may seem like old-fashioned English, but it isn’t hard to understand. We live in a world of long-distance interconnections like the Internet and phones—I can even call friends in Africa for free, now, using an app! But there is nothing like talking face-to-face with someone right there beside us. Even the whole point of dating websites is to arrange an in-person meet-up. That is how you get to know someone.

But how can we be face-to-face with our God, who is invisible to us in this life? This is powerful imagery that describes putting energy into actually encountering him spiritually:

You have said, “Seek my face.” My heart says to you, “Your face, [Yahweh], do I seek.” (Ps. 27:8 ESV)

³ Who shall go up to the mountain of Yahweh? Who shall take a stand in his holy place? ⁴ The clean of hands and pure of heart, whose heart is not set on vanities, who does not swear an oath in order to deceive. ⁵ Such a one will receive blessing from Yahweh, saving justice from the God of his salvation. ⁶ Such is the people that seeks him, that seeks your presence, God of Jacob. (Ps. 24:1 NJB)

To “seek his face” is to want to be with him. Yes, he is always with us, he has promised that. But do we pay attention, turning our inner eyes, the focus of our hearts, to him instead of on worthless things? It is so easy to do the “right” things: go to church, do my work, relax, exercise, sleep. When do we actually spend time in the presence of our God who is also our Shepherd, Father, Rescuer and King? Is it just an occasional encounter, or is it a priority—that “one thing” that makes all the difference?

A song I’ve loved ever since it came out is this one by Rich Mullins:

“Who have I in Heaven but You Jesus?
And what better could I hope to find down here on earth?
I could cross the most distant reaches
Of this world, but I’d just be wasting my time
Cause I’m certain already, I’m sure I’d find

My one thing
You’re my one thing[2]

When we make intimate relationship with the Holy One one’s own life priority, our “one thing,” changes everything. It changes us, inside and out—in our inner being and in our daily life patterns. For one thing, he cleans our inner person, as was discussed here last week. For another thing, it brings fulfillment and joy.

Let’s think about what it means to “know” someone. Deep studies of how the human brain processes this have underlined that this is intensely personal. When we encounter a living person we can get to know them “in the sense that we have experience of him or her, so that we have a ‘feel’ for who he or she is. . . this kind of knowledge permits a sense of the uniqueness of the other . . .it’s mine, personal.”[3]

A first encounter is always rather superficial. But if that person lives with you, and you actually share daily life, as time goes on your understanding of that person gets increasingly deeper. Each experience points out something in their character and their values. When I was dating Glenn, my knowledge of who he is moved from that first impression of an earnest young guy who wanted to talk about birds to the intimate connection that became true love. After three years of that learning, we got married. Now, fifty-one years later, I know him incredibly more than I did then. I can predict his reactions, interpret his movements, act on his behalf in the way I know he would! That comes from sharing life, constantly, in a relationship based on respect and love.

Developing this personal intimacy with God also requires an ongoing relationship, past the initial encounters, into a firmly bonded union that will last forever. How else could Jesus’ life mission be accomplished?

Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.(Jn. 17:3 NIV)

It’s true that we cannot physically see God; this is a spiritual journey. But when we follow Jesus, giving ourselves to him, we get to know God. His Spirit lives in us instructing us as well.

No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known. (Jn. 1:18 NIV)

As we get to know him while we are here on earth, our shared experiences and his wise teaching will deepen our intimacy with him and our understanding of who he is. The Word that he has given us in our language is foundational as we hear his own story, his words, and learn what matters to him. It incites growth and directs us in how to live in his presence. And prayer becomes conversation as we pour out our hearts to him and listen for his response. When we are paying attention, we can notice his actions in our lives and in the world around us. And we learn by copying him—like the way I learned how to cook, welcome guests and comfort hurting people by sharing life with my mom.

But if we don’t talk with a person, don’t listen to them, don’t share life experiences hand-in-hand, we cannot know them well. We may know about them, and like what we know, or wish we understood them. If we let life take over and don’t make them a priority, the relationship is just casual. Even marriages are often like that when the couple each does their own thing, rarely interacting in meaningful ways. Developing intimacy requires investment.

There will be moments when we “leap to a crag” high on a mountain to get close to our Heavenly Father. But he also will accompany us through every moment, as the Shepherd who watches over his sheep. He wants us to know him and he treasures our desire to live life face-to-face with him!

Seek [Yahweh] and his strength; seek his presence continually! (Ps. 105:4 ESV)

————————

[1] Photo credit: Tom Harpootlian. This poem was published as “His Face,” p. 14 in When He Whispers: Learning to Listen on the Journey, by Linnea Boese. Available on Amazon, ChristianBook.com and other sites.

[2] Mullins, Richard. “My One Thing” lyrics. (Capitol CMG Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group)

[3] McGilchrist, Ianin .The Master and his Emissary: The Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World. (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2009 ), p. 95.

When He Restores My Soul

When He, the Shepherd of my life, 
restores my weary soul, 
He shines his brilliant, healing light 
into each shadowed corner space, 
and He cleans out each creeping rot 
and sneaky vapor of distress, 
depression or deceit. 

And then His lovingkindness flows 
His living water through each vein,  
with salt of truth and his sweet grace 
reviving energy and hope 
so that I can get up and run 
this race that He has put me on.

When I was walking mornings in the Upper Peninsula at Piatt Lake, one thing that astounded me over and over was the difference light made when it hit the colored leaves or when the rising sun transformed the lake waters to glistening mirrors. Inside the forest there were dark areas where tiny moss villages covered fallen tree trunks, but when the sun moved across the sky and shone through gaps in the leaf cover overhead, the moss would turn emerald bright. You could see tiny caves here and there in it, or evergreen sprouts, or broken twigs.

Light is a frequent focus in Scripture. God is light (1 John 1:5) When he comes into a shadowed place his light illuminates everything there—showed it up for what it really is. Nothing can be hidden.

That is what began to change my understanding of those precious well-known verses in Psalm 23:

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. ² He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. ³ He restores my soul. (Ps. 23:1-3a ESV)

I had always taken that line, “He restores my soul,” to mean that he refreshes me. It is one possible way to translate it (cf NIV). But here it seems to have a wider scope that includes bringing it back to health, to the way that it should be. The trash needs to be cleaned up and thrown out. When a house is restored, the old dilapidated features are torn out and replaced—it is renewed. Look at what comes next in verse 3:

He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. (Ps. 23:3b ESV)

The Shepherd loves his sheep, and this Good Shepherd does all that is necessary for his sheep’s well-being: he gives them rest and nourishment, and all that they need to drink and be washed clean. This Shepherd is also Light, and that reveals everything. When the sheep submits, their true person (soul, interior) is cleaned out and strengthened so that this sheep can do what is right, living the way that they should when in the Shepherd’s flock.

The sheep that runs away from the Shepherd wants nothing to do with that last part: they want to do their own thing, live their own way. But any sheep who claims the Shepherd as his own gets not only rest, food and water, but heart-cleaning and any urgent care needed. Then they are equipped for the journey.

That need for true restoration was underlined for me this past week when an unexpected leak in a pipe led to hours of flooding in the first-floor extension recently added to our house. We cut short our vacation at Piatt Lake and came home to take care of it. Glenn has been working ever since on its “restoration,” tearing up the new flooring he had put on so that the wet subfloor could dry out, then reflooring the walkway, hall, bathroom and bedroom. Talk about a necessary re-do!

I felt like I should work hard too, with this extra time now designated at home. So I did deep cleaning, even climbing onto counters to reach on top of kitchen cabinets to wipe out dust and grime accumulated for years. You can’t see it there, so it doesn’t come to mind. Up here in my Skyhouse (the attic level that is our bedroom and my office), we pulled out all the furniture and shelving and vacuumed, even under the bed. Amazing the amount of dust that collects when you don’t regularly clean it up!

Isn’t that how it is with our souls, too? It is easy to whip through the Lord’s Prayer, just saying “forgive my sins,” without checking to see whether I have actually forgiven others as well (the last part of that sentence). And just what sins am I confessing? It is easier not to let God’s light shine into the deep corners of my soul, but instead to let daily missteps, poor choices, unloving words or acts just accumulate there in the shadows.

If I really want the Shepherd’s provision and protection, I had better be prepared to accept the work he offers, to restore my soul. He will shine his light around my inner person and bring the trash to my attention. Will I repent? Will I turn around, changing my behavior, when he brings it to light? How can I actually follow his right paths unless I do?

Adele Calhoun explains this process very clearly:

“True repentance means we open the bad in our lives to God. We invite him to come right in and look at our sin with us. We don’t hide by being good, moral people or in neurotic self-recriminations. We don’t pretend to be other than we are. We don’t disguise the truth by carting out all the disciplines we practice. We tell it like it is—without rationalization, denial or blame—to the only person in the universe who will unconditionally love us when we are bad. We hand over the pretense, image management, manipulation, control and self-obsession. In the presence of the holy One we give up on appearing good and fixing our sin. We lay down our ability to change by the power of the self. We turn to Jesus and seek forgiveness.”[1]

When we let the Shepherd clean up the mess that we acknowledge, it is gone, and he shows us how to do what is right instead of staying on that messy path. Our part is to follow his lead, trusting that he knows best. It requires complete devotion to him. Without that, we just keep slipping and falling. When we are truly his, he himself keeps us from falling—his Spirit counsels us. All we need to do is be that good sheep that listens and follows their Shepherd constantly.

Maybe you don’t need deep-cleaning. Maybe you are all out for Jesus, the Good Shepherd, coming before him every day for guidance. Just don’t let the dust keep collecting in hidden areas! And if there is a flood that tears up all the hard work you’ve been doing, let him show you what you need to do to participate in turning things around and achieving real restoration.

When Glenn finishes installing all that flooring he will heave a big sigh of relief instead of the sighs that accompany all the bending and hammering. When I finished the deep cleaning in the Skyhouse and the kitchen I felt new peace. That is what soul restoration will bring, too!

Let the Light shine in, and respond with gratitude for the restoration that is offered!

[1] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), p 92.

Pressing On!

 heart thumping 
 blood pumping 
 I hit my stride 
 and freedom 
 flings feet forward 

 I press on  
 for days and hours 
 scenery 
 fleeing from me 
 so much said and done 

 the coach calls “time” 
 and I cool down 
 flexing muscles 
 drinking water 
 respite freely given 

 my coach wipes 
 clean my knees 
 (I stumbled twice) 
 adjusts my gear 
 and we step out again 

 we’ve taken stock 
 and leaving 
 all behind 
 I’m straining forward 
 pressing ever on 

 to walk with zest 
 and not be weary 
 to run my best 
 and never drop 
 or come undone  

 to use these legs 
 in just the way 
 coach taught me to 
 to sense my heart 
 beat time with his 

 this is the  
 race well run 
 the daily  
 lifelong marathon 
 into his Beyond

It is indeed a lifelong marathon! I wrote this poem a couple of months after we had returned to Côte d’Ivoire following three years of evacuation. It had been a time full of grief, wondering whether the civil unrest over there would become peaceful enough that we could return, and then accompanying my younger sister through her battle with leukemia which had finally ended with her passing on to Glory. Now, we were back, taking stock, asking the Master for coaching.

He was telling me to keep on pressing on. Ministry that had been idled, waiting our return, was ready to take off. I had never stopped “running” while away—I had completed my seminary training and found ways to help with our church’s short-term ministries, as well as being available for key family times. Now the path had turned a corner. I could only see a short way ahead. The country was divided, rebels were in control. But we were back on the path and our job was to keep running on the path he was put before us.

I remembered feeling this pressure these past weeks while Glenn and I were vacationing in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula beside Piatt Lake. My parents had retired there, building a lovely chalet that became their kids’ inheritance. October is my favorite time to be there: few pesky insects, vibrant autumn colors, the peaceful lake and a path in the woods right behind the chalet.

One day the temperatures had dropped to near freezing in the early morning. I walked around the lake anyway and entered the woods on the trail to go home. It was taking me much less time than usual. I realized that the chill had revved up my speed, both so that I would feel warmer but also to get home soon to take a warm shower and make some hot coffee.

The verse that kept echoing in my mind was this one:

I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Phil. 3:14 NIV)

“Press on!” It means pushing forward, no matter whether the path goes uphill or downhill, straight ahead or around a curve. What matters is giving it all you’ve got, and running with wisdom so that you get to the goal!

The path in the forest was not always easy; I had to slow down and pay attention to find the little blue diamonds posted from time to time on trees so that you could be sure you were still on the path—it was covered with leaves and wound around clumps of big trees and bushes and fallen limbs. After a rain there would be muddy patches. It stretched across an area that had become a lagoon, the lake pushing in, now receding. One year we had needed to even wade across a turning point since the waters were high; now that was dry.

The analogies to our life race to the finish line are easy to grab. We don’t always know what is around the bend, even when we are navigating “normal” routes with seasonal plans and schedules on the calendar. It is important to pay attention to the signs along the way, and since we have a Coach, we need to listen for his voice. He may say it is time to take a rest and soak in the beauty ( I did that, checking out the lagoon views or looking down at the moss “villages” crawling over tree roots). He may point out a rough patch ahead, but show how to make it through the tall grasses or ruts and rocks. He may say it is time to charge ahead—someone needs your company or help.

We are not the first to ask for guidance. The writers of the psalms showed us how to pray:

Make Your ways known to me, LORD; teach me Your paths. (Ps. 25:4 CSB)

Let me experience Your faithful love in the morning, for I trust in You. Reveal to me the way I should go because I long for You. (Ps. 143:8 CSB)

Temporary goals are good, necessary for our daily walk or run. My long-term part, our part, is to press on toward the ultimate goal, our high calling to life forever with our Coach, our God and Savior. That is our finishing-point, and none of us can tell how many “miles” we have yet to travel to get there. What we do know is that we are never alone on this marathon, and it will truly be worth every effort we have made when we finally have what we are longing for, when we see Jesus face-to-face!

Have I Peaked?

Have I peaked?
Have my green leaves
turned golden red,
moving toward brown
when my strong stems
go limp and lose
their grip, break loose
and fall to earth?

Old age brings joy
in matured skills,
new opportunities.
Yet my end time
draws nearer every day.
I will just smile
and greet every hour

with gratitude
for gracious love
that makes me shine
when Light divine,
incites my glow
and is reflected.
This is his show!

We were traveling back from Sault Ste. Marie to our vacation refuge, Chalet Shalom, gasping when we turned a curve and saw a stretch of maples, oaks and birches at their autumn peak. The glory of the reds and golds, shining bright in midday sun and contrasting with the evergreens, took our breath away.

“Ah! They are so gorgeous!” I said to Glenn, who was driving.

He turned towards me. “These have peaked! And so have you! . . .I mean, you are gorgeous too!”

He realized that calling me “peaked” could have more than one meaning. We smiled. He is so sweet. And funny.

“Maybe I have peaked,” I said. I began meditating on that.

To “peak” means to be at the height of one’s color palette, for these trees at least. It is so stunning that tourists come from far-off countries to see this beauty. Timing is important; it won’t last long. In a couple of weeks the trees will be barren, entering winter hibernation.

If I have “peaked,” perhaps I am at the height of my productivity, nearing the end of being able to positively affect others. Maybe I will soon enter some kind of hibernation. That could mean forced rest during a season of trials—like Michigan’s cold winter must be for trees. It may mean that spring will come, another season of bursting into green productivity.

I have friends going through tough seasons, some of them parched with grief, others finding their functioning inhibited by illness or cancer. I pray that they will experience the restoration needed while they wait for “spring.” Our Father promises us that his purposes for us will come to fruition.

Or perhaps old age is delivering a reality check: life is winding down. We don’t know when we will get to the very last day, but each morning brings it closer. We might topple suddenly the way so many trees are in the violent hurricanes south of here. That could be tomorrow. Or the check could signal a hibernation season that will eventually end with that New Season in a New World where all is well.

What season are you in?

What season am I in? I do see myself becoming more effective in skills that I’ve been honing for decades. Actually, I’ve prayed for that maturation and have practiced spiritual formation. But it is the Spirit that transforms us, empowering us to use the gifts he gives. It is all in process for the purpose that our God and Father has for us. I am experiencing more sensitivity to his prompts, and this is truly encouraging.

I know that life is but a breath, and if I am able to complete the task he has given me in Nyarafolo Bible translation (as exegete to help finish the Old Testament), I will have entered the next decade. And the 80’s sound really old now!

My comfort and hope is this: my times are in his hands. Your times are in his hands too, all you who are his sons and daughters. Every day is a gift, and when our final winter is over we will wake up to Glory!

This is so true:

The life of mortals is like grass, they flourish like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more. (Ps. 103:15.16 NIV)

Then I join the psalmist in singing this to Father God:

. ¹³ For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. ¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. ¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. ¹⁶ Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. ¹⁷ How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! (Ps. 139:13-17 NIV)

And one of the ways the Father assures me of his good plan is this:

I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. I say, ‘My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.’ (Isa. 46:10 NIV)

Since our God is love, and completely good, I rest in his plan!

The Legacy of Love

Mothering is a long line of love, 
from my mom’s mom (and hers) 
to me, to my children, 
to my daughters and their children— 
a long, strong line that I pass on 
with joy, taking great care 
to keep intact the wisdom, 
courage, TLC and friendship 
that has made our line so rich. 

I am so glad for all she did 
to make me me, 
especially the way her love 
for walking with her Jesus 
radiated quietly from 
how she lived. And loved. 
And worked. And read. 
And prayed. And sang. 
And shared her heart, 
especially when she wrote 
those constant letters, 
daring distance to keep us apart. 
What she passed on 
was wisdom, a treasure. 
And the legacy continues!

If my mom, Barb Slater, were still alive, she would now be 100. Her birthday was September 30, so my siblings and our mates got together a few days ago to remember her life. And now Glenn and I are on vacation up north at Chalet Shalom, the retirement home in the forest by Piatt lake that Mom and Dad built and loved so much. It is literally full of the aroma of their lives as missionaries in Africa as well as their roots in Michigan. So how could I not find myself thinking even more deeply about the impact Mom had on my personally?

I was the firstborn of her six children, followed by a string of boys and one little sister. So I spent lots of time with her in the kitchen cooking, and doing childcare. She home-schooled me through fourth grade (until ICA, the missionary-children’s boarding school, opened up) and then in eleventh grade (which was not yet offered at ICA). That established close connections and a great appreciation for her teaching ability. I also worked with her at the mission hospital when I could, and was deeply touched by her constant compassion for the premie babies and their mothers and her passion for training new workers. Mom also loved to welcome visitors into our home—I especially treasure the memories of her mother-daughter attachment to a young African pastor’s wife, Anne, and the hours she spent talking with her.

When I ended up returning to that same town, Ferkessédougou, as a missionary coworker, she encouraged me through many challenges. She was my safe place. And she poured loved on my kids. I was passing on to them the freedoms she had given me to run and play in the outdoors and with any kids around, to learn to love Africa and to enjoy creating new things that reflected our “third culture” family dynamics (a hybred blend of two cultures).

Living alongside her in youth and adulthood, she had a deep affect on my spiritual life as well. Until I was 8 years old we were in Congo. There she had a little box of memory vierses that she would drill us in at breakfast. One that became glued to my heart was James 4:8, “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.” As I grew older that became an incentive to pursue knowing him. And as a teen I observed her love of reading Scripture. She was excited to find new translations that spoke to her, like the J.B. Phillip’s New Testament, then the Living Bible. That opened me up to using them and other new translations too, never suspecting that I would end up spending most of my years of ministry in Bible translation!

She would welcome the local missionary community into her living room for a “singspiration” on certain Sunday evenings. We had a piano, so my Aunt Marion would play it while the group chose favorite hymns. I loved singing with them. When one of my brothers asked last week what Mom’s favorite hymn was, another brother and I immediately said, “I come to the garden alone”!

That made me begin to process why she loved it so much, and I think I know.

It was about spending solitary time with her Beloved and the love they shared, hearing his voice as he walked and talked with her. I did often wonder what the last line of the chorus meant: “And the love we share, as we gather there, none other has ever known.” How could that be, when many people do know God’s love and walk close to him? At last I have understood it to be a way of describing that personal relationship with God that could not be identical for anyone else, since each one of us is a person unlike anyone else. He made us, knows us, loves us, and interacts with who we are. What a precious realization!

Even though I did not realize how it was influencing me, hearing her choose that song so many times and then watching her read and pray, I was becoming increasingly hungry to hear my Lord’s voice too. I longed for that intimacy. It was instrumental in making me excited to take advantage of a special privilege offered to us teens at boarding school: Get up early on Saturday, before the wake-up bell rang, and go outdoors to pray! I learned to love walking in the dewy grass, feeling the morning breeze before the sun heated the day, meditating and praying. Who would have known it would lead to practicing “solitude and silence” as an adult, and writing the poetry that would flow from my heart as I learned to listen to the Voice?

I may not always have a garden to walk in, especially living in the city as I do now. But I treasure the legacy that has led me to make that “time apart” a priority and opened me up to the possibility that I might actually have conversations with God!

(You can get a taste of my learning curve in my collection of poetry produced over the years, When He Whispers: Learning to Listen on the Journey, available at several marketplaces online. Some of you readers already have dug in, I know!)

One last thing—here are the verses of Mom’s favorite hymn that keep singing in my heart. It was written in 1912 by C. Austin Miles:

1) I come to the garden alone,
While the dew is still on the roses,
And the voice I hear, falling on my ear,
The Son of God discloses.

Refrain:
And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
And he tells me I am His own,
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.

2) He speaks and the sound of His voice
Is so sweet the birds hush their singing;
And the melody that He gave to me
Within my heart is ringing.

Living Inside His Love

Living inside Your love 
I move within 
a world protected 
not that I am 
never wounded 
but that you 
keep me safe 
from ultimate harm 
from all malignant 
and pernicious evil 
inside the loving kindness 
of your heart 
I’m held where goodness 
is my atmosphere 
and tenderness the song 
that plays incessantly 
and heals me, 
fills me with new hope 
for this poor world

This poem was given to my heart just before war broke out around us, back in September 2002. Its message was given to me for a reason!

We were in Côte d’Ivoire, in its second largest city, Bouake, attending training in “crisis response” so that we could help coworkers going through tough times. It was so ironic—the crisis hit us straight on, partway through the seminar!

When we first heard shots fired in the morning of September 19^th, I was full of fear. We had our 15-year-old son with us. My mama heart was glad we had not left him behind in Ferke with a friend, as had been originally planned. But now we kept hearing periodic gunshots all around, sometimes even mortars whooshing overhead. I worried. We were in a three-story building, and the rebel force would take one side, the government army the other, to fire at each other for hours. We were instructed to lie down on the floor of the cement hallway running through the dormitory-style row of bedrooms on the second floor. For days our only hope was in our God’s love, especially his promises of protection. But we also knew that sometimes he does allow death, even to his loved ones. What was his purpose going to be in that moment?

This was clear: if we were taken, we would be with our God. If he permitted us to be rescued, he had a reason. And that is what happened: after over a week of waiting, a 24-hour ceasefire was arranged, and anyone holding a foreign passport would be allowed to leave Bouake and go south to territory the government still held.

One crucial moment on the way through the stringent check at the capital, Yamoussoukro, underlined the Lord’s protection. We had a two Nigerians with us in our car who had also been attending the training seminar. The officer who stopped us at the checkpoint told Glenn he had to drive over to the side for a thorough check of the vehicle. The rest of us had to get out and go to the booth ahead. Our son suddenly realized his backpack with his papers was in the car trunk so I accompanied him back there to find it. That put the soldiers on alert; they were not happy that we opened the trunk. By the time the two of us got up to the checkpoint, the officer was holding the Nigerian passports in his hand and getting angry with our friends. He was asking questions, but neither of them spoke French so could not respond. Plus they were wearing dressy “boubous”, robes that are also common among Muslims, preparing for their plane ride home. That seemed to brand them as suspicious. I got there just in time to translate and tell the officer that they were also missionaries, that we had been at the same training in Bouake. He relaxed and waved us through.

My coming up behind them was in God’s timing. And there were other things in that story that led to our reliance on the goodness and tenderness of our God who is love. In the midst of war all around us, who else could we turn to? When we had to lie on the floor of the hallway while mortars flew over us, my dear friend Karen and I made sure we were next to each other. We held hands. We prayed. Somehow we even slept later that night! Our Father was our hope and our shield.

I relate to what David wrote when he was in a war zone:

LORD, hear my prayer, listen to my cry for mercy; in your faithfulness and righteousness come to my relief. ^{. . .} ³ The enemy pursues me, . . . ⁴ So my spirit grows faint within me; my heart within me is dismayed. ^{. . .} ⁶ I spread out my hands to you; I thirst for you like a parched land. ⁷ Answer me quickly, LORD; my spirit fails. Do not hide your face from me or I will be like those who go down to the pit. ⁸ Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life. ⁹ Rescue me from my enemies, LORD, for I hide myself in you. ¹⁰ Teach me to do your will, for you are my God; may your good Spirit lead me on level ground. (Ps. 143:1–10 NIV)

Yes! We were couldn’t wai to get out of this scary situation. We longed to hear good news in the morning, news of rescue. And it came. We saw him take us out of a dark tunnel to a place of level ground. There was grief. Would we ever get back home, up north in that country? Would our friends there be okay? What should we do next?

Through it all, it was our Father’s unfailing, never-ending love that held us close, giving us hope and comfort. His song was playing in my heart, even when I could not hear it. His love was the one sure thing that remained when chaos was all around. We knew that he was paying attention, hearing our cries, and he would bring us through. Even if we had lost our earthly lives, we knew we would be with him—no malignant evil could remove that confidence!

So every year, this anniversary of war and rescue reminds me to remain rooted and grounded in his love, to live inside it whether life is on an ordinary track or full of bumps in the road.

Breathe in his goodness! Listen to the song of love that he plays in your heart, and carry on—even when there is chaos all around. He never changes, and his love for us (small as we are) is constant!

Full of Grace, Full of Truth

His kindness overwhelmed them from the start:

the way he chose his students:

hearts that yearned for meaning

beyond fishing nets or taxes;

welcoming the seventy,

both genders, to his company—

the way he saved the day for his mom’s friend:

reaching back to first creation,

crunching time by his own Word

he said, “Let there be wine,”

and there it was, the best—

the way he broke the rules that kept the stranger

snubbed and minimized;

he crushed the prejudice

that said a woman should not

learn, sitting at his feet—

the way he took a trip and waited by a well

to meet an outcast woman,

to let her know that she could thrive

by drinking living water,

accepted and forgiven—

the way he fed the hungry lingering crowd,

rewrote a blind man’s lifeline,

let children climb into his lap

and touched untouchables,

his purity the remedy.

His goodness split the confines of the box.

And with his kindness came God’s truth:

the word that let the rich man know

that following the rules

would never bring him life;

the only way to freely sail

was to haul in his anchors—

the word that fired his makeshift whip

to chase the rottenness

of greed and selfishness

out of the place reserved

for penitence and praise—

the word that underlined his power,

that healed a dying child

from very far away,

that said, “Get up and walk!”

and lameness took a hike—

the word that turned their eyes away

from temporary gluttony:

the food that spoils,

the search for yet more

thrills instead of treasure—

the word that showed them who God is:

forgiving Father,

rescuing Son,

Spirit bringing birth to spirit—

new creation, life begun!

He was the living truth that changed them all.

Postscript:

His kindness offered favors

not one of them deserved.

The truth flowed out of him

and overturned the world—

the night turned into sunrise,

rule-keeping became love,

surrender moved from slavery

to the status of a son.

And time could not contain this grace.

The “I Am” made the promises

as true for me, as real for you,

as when his glory walked the earth

in flesh and bones, in word and work.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. (Jn. 1:14 NIV)

The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. (Jn. 1:9 NIV)

May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. (2 Cor. 13:14 NIV)

When his grace shines on us we have rescue and hope. His light shone in the darkness that was over Israel, and it shines into us. Then we know the truth, the real solid unshakeable truth: God’s light became truly visible through the words and work of Jesus, revealing what he values and accomplishing his purpose. That gift of grace continues to be our portion as we walk with him in the light, made new by his unmerited favor poured out on us. Night has sturned into sunrise! Life with him will never end in this New Day!

A Confluence of Soulmates

We believe in him
so streams of living water
flow from within
and mingle in
profuse display:
splash of sympathy,
sparkle of delight,
mellow liquid comfort.
Spirit meets spirits
and waterfalls rush
to embrace, clarity
leaping with grace
to wash over souls
and leave us refreshed,
renewed and blessed.

Think of a recent moment when that happened to you. You met with one or more fellow devoted followers of Jesus, indulged in honest conversation—maybe also prayed together—and left with gratitude and peace washing through your inner being. This is when koinonia, the Greek word usually translated “fellowship,” comes to life in the community.

I have found this to be particularly true when I am one-on-one with a sister in Christ who shares openly what she is experiencing in her walk, or what the Lord is teaching her. And I share, too. That is when the label “soulmates” comes to mind. I am blessed to experience it here in my home, with my husband and son, as we meditate on Scripture and pray together. And there are those times at church when shared praise, compassion or concern touch each of us, and we are bonded yet more closely.

Last week I focused on the “fellowship of the Holy Spirit” as it was linked with Jesus’ grace and God’s love in Paul’s farewell blessing in 2 Corinthians 13:14. There we were focusing on Jesus’ gracious offer of salvation and God’s love underlying it all, then the gift of the Holy Spirit who lives in the believer and is their “companion of the Road.” The Spirit gives us close relationship with God the Father and Jesus; the Trinity is one, each part revealing to us the whole character of God. That intimate relationship between them is offered to us as well when we are truly set apart, consecrated to him (John 17.19).

In Jesus’ prayer just before his arrest, recorded by his disciples, he prayed that all future believers as well as his disciples would have both horizontal unity between them and vertical unity with the Trinity, putting it in clear terms. He asked:

²¹ that they will all be one, just as you, Father, are in me and I am in you. I pray that they will be in us, so that the world will believe that you sent me. ²² The glory you gave to me I have given to them, that they may be one just as we are one– ²³ I in them and you in me– that they may be completely one, so that the world will know that you sent me, and you have loved them just as you have loved me. (Jn. 17:21-23 NET)

Wow! He really emphasized that element of being “one”! And he made sure that we would have help in becoming “one” through being one with him, “one” with the entire Trinity.

He had spoken to the woman at the well about the gift of “living water” that could be hers:

Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” ¹¹ “Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? ¹² . . . ¹³ Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, ¹⁴ but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:10-14 NIV)

There we have it: living water is that new everlasting life that comes from belonging to Jesus. He is the source of that spring that constantly ripples, never running out. It is not only a promise for the future, but a spring currently active within us.

Then when he spoke to his disciples about the “living water” that was going to be poured into them and out into the world, he had specified that the overflow would come because of the Spirit living in them:

Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.” ³⁹ By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive. (Jn. 7:38, 39a NIV)

This is precious truth from the mouth of Jesus himself. The rivers of living water “flow from within them.” That means they come out—they overflow.

The rivers of living water flow from within us. We become sources of the living water as well, sharing it with those around us. It definitely can invite thirsty not-yet-believers to come to the River of Life. That spring is an overflow of the saving grace of Jesus, God’s love, and our close relationship with God’s Spirit, flowing out of us to offer that water that brings life to others!

But there is another key aspect of it: when we share with another believer, or in a group or community of Jesus’ followers, the spring within us touches them and the spring within them reaches us. It results in a sharing of this common attachment to God through his Spirit. When this reality is lived out, it becomes true “fellowship” that refreshes each believer involved. Paul wrote about how that would encourage believers in Philippi and give him joy as well:

Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, ² then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. (Phil. 2:1-2 NIV)

As we all know, experiencing this kind of unity or fellowship does not always happen just because the people around us are also believers. The rest of those qualifications are what make it possible: the “ifs” that are listed. Being one with Christ and comforted by his love, sharing that fellowship that we have with his Spirit who lives in us and guides us—these are essential to being refreshed by that living water that is welling up inside us. the stream is active, an ongoing relationship being lived out our Lord. Jesus did not use the metaphor of a quiet, peaceful pool of water. Instead, his Spirit living in us is like a spring, never stagnant, constantly having its water renewed from the Source. That requires constant deep attachment to him.

And it is not to be quietly kept in a jar, just for us. We are to share “in the Spirit.” When we truly do that, not just sharing out of our own preoccupations or assumptions, but listening to that live Counselor within and joining in the conversation with a soulmate, we can find joy in our mutual Companion, letting tenderness and compassion overflow to refresh others. Listening carefully, sharing, we are refreshed ourselves.

Therefore begins this request to have unity in Philippians 2:1. What is that word referring to? It is the reality taught in chapter 1 that we are constantly growing, and that growth depends on our attachment to Christ:

⁶ For I am sure of this very thing, that the one who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus. . .⁹ And I pray this, that your love may abound even more and more in knowledge and every kind of insight ¹⁰ so that you can decide what is best, and thus be sincere and blameless for the day of Christ, ¹¹ filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ to the glory and praise of God. (Phil. 1:6, 9-11 NET)

That growth in love through secure attachment to the Vine, Jesus, (John 15:5) produces the fruit: right living that glorifies our Master. When we show hateful disunity, that dishonors him. He is busy at work in us to make our love grow so that it is able to discern the right words to say, the right way to behave, the right way to honor Christ by a pure overflow of streams of his living water. As we grow more and more adept at doing this, we bring him praise. That praise is not just vocalizing our praise to him! It is also sharing in the Spirit and doing it in love.

So when Paul wrote those closing words to the believers in Corinth, he was underlining that Christ’s grace and God’s love give us the Spirit living with in us, walking with us, our true Companion and Counselor. And he was also urging them to share the living water that bubbles within them with others in their lives who also enjoy that same inner living water. Let it overflow and bring encouragement and the way to live in peace with each other:

¹¹Finally, brothers and sisters, rejoice, set things right, be encouraged, agree with one another, live in peace, and the God of love and peace will be with you . . .¹³ The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. (2 Cor. 13:11, 13 NET)

Let’s see who we can refresh today, or the next time that we are with another child of God! And let’s let those streams of living water flow out to those who do not walk with him yet, but would love to not be thirsty ever again!

My Essential Companion


I thought I was alone, figuring out 
how to navigate this world. 
Sometimes I walked in burning sun, 
seeking shade or longing for sunset. 	 
Or blasting winds would throw debris 
over the path, hiding the way forward. 
Crossroads scared me. Right? Left? 

But then I sensed eyes on me, 
a presence by my side. 
Who was there, tracking me? 
And I learned that I had a friend, 
a companion and counselor 
sent to me to share this journey. 
He cares! He knows the master plan!  

All I need to do is trust and listen, 
holding his hand. Chaos cannot 
tear us apart. His strength holds me 
and since he has the map, 
our shared purpose keeps us on track 
in inclement weather or twisting paths. 
He’s my Companion of the Road, always.

Sometimes learning another language opens up new worlds of understanding. Nyarafolo, spoken in a region in northern Côte d’Ivoire, certainly did that for me. One word that immediately nestled in my soul was kodanʔanyɛni: companion of the road. It means you have a close friend who is walking a certain path with you, sharing the experience. I thought of each special friend I’ve had over the years who has traveled a certain phase of my journey with me, often helping me carry my load—it sure made it easier, handing off some of my baggage! Then it also applied to the way the Nyarafolo believers sometimes took off walking in a parade from one village to another, coupled in a long line, singing as they went, a praise walk to testify to others of their joy in knowing Jesus. And I began to use the term as the salutation on all my prayer letters, sensing the true partnership of those who would be reading them and praying.

But most of all, I began to think about the “fellowship of the Holy Spirit” as I made my pilgrimage through life to the Promised Land:

May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. (2 Cor. 13:14 NIV)

I understood Jesus’ grace, shown by his self-sacrifice to offer me unending life with him. And God’s love for the world and for me is what planned it all; it’s why he reached out to make me his child. But what did it mean to fellowship with his Spirit?

The Greek word behind “fellowship” is κοινωνία, which has a touching breadth of meaning depending on the context: association, communion, fellowship, close relationship, fellow feeling, participation, sharing.[1] Another lexicon adds close association in shared interest and shared community life.[2]

That describes a “companion of the Road!” When applied to the Holy Spirit, it means that he has a close relationship with you. Well yes! He lives in you! And then there is that close association in shared interest, and shared community life. You share an ultimate goal and all the “dailies” too. This close relationship is the most intimate ever! It is actually described on one of my life passages in the Psalms:

You have searched me, LORD, and you know me. ² You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. ³ You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. ⁴ Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely. ⁵ You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. ⁶ Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. ⁷ Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? ⁸ If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. ⁹ If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, ¹⁰ even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. (Ps. 139:1-10 NIV)

No matter where I go, he is there with me. I could live in West Africa or in Michigan, flying east or west, north or south; he is in every place, not just beside me or following me, but holding me steady with his hand and guiding me! What a wonder this is!

I have felt that reality of having him for a walking partner here in Detroit. I have human walking partners for a short while during my morning walk, but the majority of my time I am alone with him. I ask him for prompts about how to vary my route so that it is never predictable to any bad guy (warned about that by neighbors). I am currently also walking a little Yorkie dog in order to help out a sick friend. Tiny “Hermione” runs up to almost every tree to sniff the trunk, runs out into the road to investigate a pile of stuff thrown out. Is a car coming? Is that a big dog across the street? So one day I chose to walk a different loop on Chicago Avenue since it was so busy with construction work the direction I usually take. I came up to a young man standing by a car, taking notes as he looked up at a mansion that was for sale. We greeted each other, as is the custom here in Detroit. Then he began asking me questions about the neighborhood, and shared that he recently got out of prison and is looking for a way to make some money, perhaps by rehabbing old houses. So I told him that we live on Burlingame (turns out he does, too!) and had that we had purchased our rehabbed house from a non-profit called Central Detroit Christian. I surprised myself when I added that they help people like him, just out of prison, find a way to get back into life and business.

As he wrote the name of the company down he walked back to get into his car, and I was prompted to say, “May the Lord guide you!” (I have never said that to a stranger before!)

He answered, “I think he just did!”

Wow! I thought about that as I walked home. My essential Companion of the Road had changed my normal route, using my instinctive protection of the Yorkie for a reason. He had wanted me to encourage this young man looking for hope!

As I walk the neighborhood without a human beside me, I try to use the time to pray: praise for his creative genius all around me, prayer for those on my heart, and stretches of quiet listening for my Companion’s guidance as I face the day. He knows my thoughts before I think them. He knows what is coming up in the next hours, when I can only guess. I may look like I am alone, but I am not. He is always with me, protecting me in front and in back, holding me steady with his hand, in conversation with me. An intimate relationship does require two-way communication!

The awareness of his promptings and his guidance comes with practice: it is spiritual formation that he wants to accomplish in us. We have to open the ears of our heart, because he is not visible and his voice is rarely audible. But that spiritual dimension is not just theoretical! It is unseen but experienced, and I can say with the psalmist, no matter where I am on the road:

“Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand.” (Ps. 73:23 NIV)

You, however, are not in the realm of the flesh but are in the realm of the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God lives in you. And if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, they do not belong to Christ. (Rom. 8:9 NIV)

The Spirit of Christ truly is the constant Companion of the Road for God’s sons and daughters–we live in the realm of the Spirit, even while we walk this earth!

[1] Gingrich, Greek New Testament Lexicon

[2] Danker, Greek New Testament Lexicon

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