It’s Not Over Yet!

Everything vibrant is going to seed: 
burgundy tufts on the yellowing grass, 
slender filaments lined with beans 
drooping down between withering leaves, 
millet high on the dusty stalks, 
papaya clusters, lemons, limes -- 

all reminders that it is time 
to pass on the treasure of living life, 
to breed a crop of who we are: 
succulent fruit and shade from the heat, 
life-giving grain, soft carpets for feet 
time for the aged to go to seed 

till all is renewed, born again, re-viewed, 
so nothing is lost in the crush of death 
but instead finds hope: it’s not over yet!  
another round of growth and struggle 
while we all wait for the re-creation: 
new earth, new sky, new bodies too 

that will never ever ever die!

When I wrote the above poem I was in the tropical woodland savanna climate in northern Côte d’Ivoire. It was late October. Leaves were dropping from the trees, and even grasses were going to seed. Soon the “winter wind”, the harmattan, would be whooshing down out of the cool Sahara nights. It would strip the trees bare and seed pods would fall. The grasses would dry up and slump over.

Here in Michigan the last colored leaves are being stripped from their branches by high winds. Autumn is getting ready to go to bed; life is ending for certain plants.

That is the picture  of mortality that is underlined in Psalm 90 (attributed to Moses, perhaps coming out of the disastrous reactions of Israel to his lengthy stay on Mt. Sinai). He writes:

3 You return mankind to the dust, saying, “Return, descendants of Adam.” 4 For in Your sight a thousand years are like yesterday that passes by, like a few hours of the night. 5 You end their lives; they sleep. They are like grass that grows in the morning– 6 in the morning it sprouts and grows; by evening it withers and dries up. (Ps. 90:3-6 CSB).

It is intriguing that this Psalm is the first reading assigned three days in a row this week, the First Week of Advent, in the revised common lectionary. Why so much emphasis on the shortness of life, when the theme of this week is hope? The world around us is dark, full of humans who hurt each other and break God’s commands. As a result his anger at their crimes results in punishment, some of it just the reality of the consequences of their evil acts, some of it specifically engineered by the King of the Universe.

For we are consumed by Your anger; we are terrified by Your wrath.You have set our unjust ways before You, our secret sins in the light of Your presence. For all our days ebb away under Your wrath; we end our years like a sigh. Our lives last seventy years or, if we are strong, eighty years. Even the best of them are struggle and sorrow; indeed, they pass quickly and we fly away.  (Ps. 90:7-10 CSB)

So why read this psalm when the theme is supposed to be hope?

It is because of the truth and faithful reliance on God’s goodness that is sandwiched in between the laments. Looking back the psalmist affirms this:

You have been our refuge in every generation. Before the mountains were born, before You gave birth to the earth and the world, from eternity to eternity, You are God.  (Ps. 90:1 CSB)

And looking forward, we know that our God will continue to be our refuge and will listen to our prayers. We look around us in desperation. We look to him, and ask him for the wisdom we need to navigate the swamp:

12 Teach us to number our days carefully so that we may develop wisdom in our hearts. 13 LORD– how long? Turn and have compassion on Your servants. 14 Satisfy us in the morning with Your faithful love so that we may shout with joy and be glad all our days. 15 Make us rejoice for as many days as You have humbled us, for as many years as we have seen adversity. 16 Let Your work be seen by Your servants, and Your splendor by their children. 17 Let the favor of the Lord our God be on us; establish for us the work of our hands– establish the work of our hands! (Ps. 90:12-17 CSB)

How should we “number our days”? Recognizing our mortality, we must look to our eternal God to make our limited lifespan meaningful. If we experience his compassion, his faithful love, in the morning of each day—or in the morning of our lives—then we find joy. We do not find that kind of deep inner happiness by focusing on ourselves or on the world we live in. No! We find it when we are looking to him, heart-eyes fixed on him. We want to see what he is doing and participate in it, because due to his kind favor to us, we can ask him to “establish the work of our hands!” Work done in line with his purpose, under his supervision and empowered by his love, Is meaningful. Even though we struggle and meet tough stuff along the way, the eternal God who has always been our refuge will listen to the prayer of his servants, his dear ones, and work in and through them. Evening will come, and we look forward to it!

The end-goal of our hope is our confidence that this God is the one who sent his Son to conquer death, rise to life, and prepare the way for us to join him in eternal joy in a brand new world! One of the other readings this week is in Revelation 22, where the Lord God promises that although it seems as though this broken world is lasting forever and those set apart for him are in need of ongoing transformation, he is preparing the New World, a perfect city, for them. He says:

Let the unrighteous go on in unrighteousness; let the filthy go on being made filthy; let the righteous go on in righteousness; and let the holy go on being made holy.” 12 “Look! I am coming quickly, and My reward is with Me to repay each person according to what he has done. 13 I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End. 14 “Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they may have the right to the tree of life and may enter the city by the gates.  (Rev. 22:11-14 CSB)

There we have a stunning picture of the solid hope that is being made ready for us. The “holy” people are those who are consecrated to God, set apart to follow him and serve him. What do they need? Ongoing submission to the work of God’s Spirit in their lives, the one who is changing them to become like him! “Don’t give up, “he says. “Just be sure to focus on what matters. Accept my forgiveness (I wash your robes!) and my promise of life that will last forever with me, the one who is before everything and after everything: the Eternal One!”

We don’t know when Jesus will return, but we do know where we are to focus our hope, and someday we will arrive at the destination that is waiting for us! For now, knowing that eternal death has been conquered by our Master, we just keep on doing each day what he gives us to do. When done for him, it matters:

56 Now the sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57 But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ! 58 Therefore, my dear brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the Lord’s work, knowing that your labor in the Lord is not in vain. (1 Cor. 15:56-58 CSB)

Because of You I Run with Joy

Sleep may slip out of reach, 
but I will rest in you. 
Age may take its toll, 
but I am renewed by you. 

I may hobble along the path, 
but you will keep me upright. 
I may wrestle with fear in the dark, 
but you are the light in my heart. 

The world’s disasters may trouble me, 
but I will find peace with you. 
Tangled emotions may strangle me,  
but you will pull me through. 

You hold my hand to guide me 
and keep me walking strong, 
you shade me from the burning heat 
and slake my thirst with love. 

If not for you I’d be a mess, 
crippled, fried and lost. 
Because of you I run with joy 
to the goal: forever with you!

Tomorrow is wonderful: a day for focus on giving thanks! There is one item at the top of my list: God my Father, Rescuer and Counselor!

He called me when I was a child and molded me as I grew up, continuing to do it all my life. He does that with each of us who give ourselves to him, acknowledging him as our Master—even when we pull back from time to time. He kindly waits for us to return to him, holding out his welcoming arms. Think of the dad in Jesus’ parable about the son who ran off to do his own thing, but eventually came home destitute (Luke 15:11-32); his father was waiting for him and ran to embrace him. That is what my Father did for me when I was still vacillating. I decided to stay with him forever. Then he showed me the path that he had for me, not all at once, but step by step, in his timing.

Looking back, I can understand much more about how he cared for me through thick and thin.

So now, getting ready to give thanks with special emphasis tomorrow, I will take time to list key moments and sweet little gestures by which God demonstrated his protection, guidance, provision and formation of his daughter. Will you join the chorus that will be raised all across this country and beyond by other sons and daughters?

Instead of taking up your time by writing a long essay for this key holiday, I will just share a song that keeps flitting into my “inner jukebox” every day this week. Lately there have been some tough moments, and it has lifted me. When I looked up the story behind it I was wowed. May it inspire you too!

“In 1978, a young seminary graduate named Henry Smith was struggling to find work and coming to terms with a degenerative eye condition that would eventually leave him legally blind. Despite those hardships, Henry found hope in 2 Corinthians 8:9 and penned “Give Thanks,” one of the most beloved songs of our time.”[1]

Give thanks with a grateful heart,
Give thanks to the Holy one,
Give thanks because He’s given,
Jesus Christ His Son.

And now,
Let the weak say I am strong.
Let the poor say I am rich.
Because of what,
The Lord has done for us.
Give thanks.[2]


[1] https://www.praisecharts.com/blog/the-story-behind-the-song-give-thanks/

[2] https://st-takla.org/Lyrics-Spiritual-Songs/English-Coptic-Hymns-Texts/3-Christian-n-Gospel-Lyrics-E-F-G/Give-Thanks.html

Eyes on You

When even the sunrise 
is muted by gray, 
the air polluted 
and blackened by carbon, 
there is one place 
where I can play, 
breathing in air 
that is free from dirt, 
a place where my heart-hurts 
fade away— 
here beside you, 
finding a way 
to gradually lay 
each major worry, 
each broken hope 
on the palms of your hands.
 
You stretch them out,
your arms of power
with soft healing balm
poured onto me,
gently soothing
my fractured thoughts,
transforming them into
firm understanding
that all my hope
is truly in you.
You are my judge,
and their judge too;
I cannot see the ultimate scope
of what you are planning,
of what you will do.

I breathe your air.
There is no dark
pollution here.
And you will help me
persevere, eyes on you
and the final goal,
when you make all things
whole.

When I opened the door to venture out into the predawn air this morning, rain was sprinkling everything and the sun was struggling to send at least some light through the clouds. I walked, thinking about the words that Jesus has been underlining for me:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Heb. 12:1,2 NIV)

That challenge comes right after Hebrews 11 with its review of characters in Scripture that model faith for us. Now, the race is ours!

The Word does not tell us that it will be easy, like a vacation run on the beach in bright sunlight. Instead it warns us that first we have to get rid of whatever might slow us down or even make us trip and fall. That could be distractions. It could be addictions. It might even be gluttony—eating more than we need, or longing constantly for what we think might satisfy us. It might be doing what we know is against the race rules.

Instead, we are to fix our eyes on Jesus.  When we do that, it is like breathing fresh pure air in spite of the smog that might be surrounding us in this world. Looking at him and listening to his plans for us, contemplating his preparation of eternal joy, we can find solid hope that is way more than just wishful thinking. He himself had his heart fixed on that joy of completing his kingdom’s sovereign rule, so he endured the cross. The cross was brutal suffering, but it was suffering he he knew was necessary for accomplishing his purpose for us. So he did it. He offered his body to the spitters, the beaters, the hammers and the nails of shameful murder. It was excruciating, but he did it. And as a result he opened the way for us to be made new, to join the race-runners:  he came back to life and reigns forever!

He is our hero, our example. When we take our focus off the darkness of the world we live in and turn our eyes toward him, gluing them in place, we know that he will see us through to that end goal: joy! We cannot get there on our own. We need our coach, the one guiding us through the turning points, the storms, the smoke and the ruts in the road. Breathing his pure air—his Spirit within us—we have health and stamina to keep running the race. Without his presence we are just not strong enough. Resting our thoughts in his love, we can navigate through the pollution that wants to contaminate all our thinking and turn our eyes away from him.

This enduring relationship gives us soul freedom, a safe place to pray, to play his game and praise his name: Yeshua my Rescuer, Jesus!

Desperate to Center

Thoughts slip left and right, 
up and down, 
circling center 
but not resting there. 

I long to be centered, 
focused, listening. 
When swirling slows 
I sense You here, present. 

That is the heart position 
that centers thoughts 
on You, the Unseen One 
who matters most. 

I rest, absorbing peace
from the Prince of Peace,
the object of my quest:
Jesus! I am blessed.

What I long for is to be able to live like this:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (Heb. 12:1-3 NIV)

I am tempted to lose heart. I am tempted to focus on chaos in the world around me. Grief for the choices of loved ones wants to suffocate hope.

But when I turn to Jesus, contemplating his character and his willingness to be attacked, shamed, tortured, and murdered, all for me and the billions of others like me, I find hope again. He was looking beyond the hard things to “the joy set before him.” What was that joy? Providing rescue for the broken and enslaved! Setting up a kingdom of love that will last forever! Creating a worldwide Family of loved ones who choose to be a part of it!

My problem is that the distractions take over all too easily.

So this year I have returned  off and on to a practice I was using during a difficult time while we were over in Côte d’Ivoire: centering prayer. I have never mastered it, but I find it helpful. I  had read Pennington’s book, Centering Prayer: Reviewing an Ancient Christian Prayer Form, and reviewed the helpful points in Adele Ahlberg Calhoun’s Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. Both pointed out key reasons this practice is worth the effort.

This expresses the key reason:

“Centering prayer is an opening, a response, a putting aside of all the debris that stands in the way of our being totally present to the present Lord, so that he can be present to us.”[1]

There it is: becoming completely aware of being in the Lord’s presence is wonderful, but it is hard to calm all the distracting thoughts that intrude. This kind of prayer is not about intercession. It is about resting, being quiet, focusing on the Person who lives in us. The Holy Spirit is given to us and lives in us, so that we are united with Christ, connected to God in an intensely intimate way. We deal, however, with life in this world with all of its distractions. Fixing our eyes on Jesus is something we are to live out with endurance like his, following him. Keeping our eyes fixed on him is a challenge.

“The purity of Centering Prayer lies in this: for once, both eyes are on God.”[2]  It is “ not production-oriented but rather . . . the simple enjoyment of God, the reality for which he made us.”[3]

And once we experience that, it helps us to maintain that orientation the rest of the day:  walking with our Shepherd, more aware of his guidance and his work.

The steps sound simple, but I have found them challenging. You start by choosing a  “word” or phrase to contemplate. It can be a name of God, or one of his characteristics. You find a position that allows you to pay attention and focus. When thoughts slip in and take over, return to your chosen “word” and wait in his presence.

In the past I used my quiet spot, sitting, wherever I was—like in a chair under the golden rain tree (see the photo above), in Ferke. This week I have tried using my morning walk as a protected space. The words that have led me to a renewed sense of being centered on my God were these, tried on different days: Lord Jesus have mercy on us. Mercy. Compassion. Jesus! God is love. Love!

The intruding thoughts are unavoidable. I am learning to hand them over to my Companion and return to the word(s) in focus. I come home far more relaxed and at peace. God is with me, always, yes!

So in this time with turmoil all around, I would encourage you to contemplate the wonder of our union with our Lord, fixing your eyes on Jesus, who made it possible for us to do this faith walk, to not get so tired that we “lose heart” and forget about the joy set before us.

And, as Adele Calhoun, adds, “throughout your day return to your word and remind the Lord of your love for him.”[4] This helps us to put into practice that great commandment:

Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. (Deut. 6:5 NIV)

It will also prepare us to live out the other one that Jesus said is like it:

Love your neighbor as yourself. (Mat 22.39 NIV)

We contemplate our Lord, Father, Savior, Shepherd, who is love and is our source of peace. We get to know him yet better. We long to be like him, and to work with him and for him. The change we long for will come.

“In centering prayer the goal is to so dwell in Christ that the fruit of this dwelling begins to show up in your life. Centering praying may ‘do nothing’ at the moment. You sense no rapture, no mystical bliss. But later, as you move out into the busyness of life, you begin to notice that something has shifted. Your quiet center in Christ holds.”[5]

I am still learning, and I’m enjoying the learning curve!

[1] Pennington, M. Basil. Centering Prayer: Renewing an Ancient Christian Prayer Form. (New York, New York: Doubleday, 1980) p. 86.

[2] Ibid., p. 105.

[3] Ibid. p. 107.

[4] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005),p. 210.

[5] Ibid., p. 208.

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.