Category: God’s love

The time is now

I have been watching the developments in our world for the last few years. Our politics is nastier, our culture more extreme, our values nebulous and ever-changing. It is hard to get a sense of our footing.

But as all this madness around us swirls I am more convinced than ever that God is the answer. What we are seeing is a world with no stability, nothing to cling to.

What can we do? Can we change the direction of the world? No. Can we affect great change? No. But we can believe in something meaningful. We can set an example. We can have a small influence in the world right around us.

Now is the time. Now we need to step forward. Now we claim the territory. Now we say, “As for me and my house we will serve the Lord.” Do it now. Don’t wait. The world needs people of faith. Desperately.

Ephesians 6: 13 Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day
of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.

God loves me and you too

Every now and again God gives us an experience, the kind of moment that we hold in our heart and treasure. A glorious sunset, a drive home with tired kids, welcome in a gracious and giving home, a look of love from our spouse, a gentle breeze on a hot day, the list could go on.

Joy, hope and love are found in these moments. Like a beautiful sound track to a movie, they give unspoken sound to our hearts. Like jewels in our mind, glistening just out of reach and yet bouncing light everywhere.

These are the moments when I feel closest to God. Those moments when he uses other humans to help me feel His love.

God be with you today and may you feel the joy and peace of knowing that he sees you, regardless of what sorrow today may bring.

Remember

I remember getting the seed catalogue. Pouring over its pages and dreaming about all the potential, while the snow lay thick on the ground. My thoughts catapulted to spring for a few short moments, while the pages lay open on my lap. I could forget the frozen world around me and recall that beneath it lay the promise of spring.

But I have other memories too. A long list. I store them and sort them, like the seed catalogue. I’m digging in my past for the promises buried there, like the bulbs below the layer of snow. The times God saw me through difficulty. When I felt helpless and he offered aid. Memories from the annals of my life.

There is enough there to give me courage, if I take time to read through them. Like the Seed catalogue this internal list offers hope as I sift through my memories. My past offering hope to my now, like a flower full with blooms in the summer.

I sit and I remember what God has done.

Psalm 77: 11 I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes,
I will remember your miracles of long ago.

Unanswered prayers

I was listening to an essay by CS Lewis while preparing supper. The essay was about prayer, “petitionary prayers,” as he calls them. (I think, forgive me I can’t find it again, but I thought it was called “The Efficacy of Prayer”). I have thought a lot about prayer over the last year and a half. Why it seemed some of our prayers were answered, while others were not. Why God seemed to be helping us in some ways, but yet not in others. It’s a topic I find interesting on a personal level.

The narrator then read something that I had never considered before. Once I heard it, I was shocked I had never thought of the idea. It seemed so dreadfully obvious. In fact, it struck me so hard that I asked my husband if he had ever considered the idea before either. He had not.

CS Lewis posits that even Jesus did not have his prayer answered in Gethsemane. Wow! There. That is it. I had never considered that before. I focused more on the “Thy will be done” than the “Let this cup pass from me.” God couldn’t answer Christ’s prayer the way he wanted, the fate of mankind hung on the plan. But Christ asked it. Not only did he ask it, but he then upon the cross said, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27: 46)

How I could have gone this far in my life without really thinking about this? Last summer, when my fervent prayers were not answered, and I was angry and bitter I felt forsaken, unloved. Christ felt that too.

This realization helped put everything into perspective for me. Unanswered prayers are not a sign of God not approving of me, or not loving me. After all, you can not claim that God did not love Christ or approve of Him. If God can refuse to answer the prayer of His own beloved son, then my more insignificant prayers may go unanswered also.

Christ’s prayers of finding another way forward, were denied in order bridge the gap between mankind and God. You can’t claim that about my prayers. They do not carry the same significance. But like Christ there may be more going on than what I see.

Unlike Christ, I am not privy to the plan. He knew what His role in salvation was, and He knew the stakes. I can’t know the mind of God or the greater plan for my own life and the lives of those around me.

This was a sobering realization. Certainly a new way of framing my frustrations with unanswered prayers.

Matthew 26: 38-39 Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with
sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”
Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed,
“My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me.
Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

Take courage in His love

Some days I feel down in the mouth. I feel upset and nothing goes my way. The little problems are mountains. What should I do when I feel this way?

I can replace my own negative and myopic self talk with scriptures. I can fill my head with the glory of God. Doing this doesn’t make me less pathetic or sinful, it just ensures I remember that I am loved.

Sometimes we all need to remember this. The worst of humans have access to God’s grace. Even when we are sure of our failures and certain of our hopelessness God can reach us. Because our place in his kingdom is not a product of our goodness but His holiness. God loves me not because I am lovable but because He is love.

When your inner voice tells you that you are unworthy say back, “Yes, but God is worthy.”

When your inner voice says you are a failure reply, “Yes, but God is not.”

When your inner voice reminds you how unlovable you are answer, “So true, but God IS love.”

Romans 5:8 But God demonstrates his own love for us in this:
While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Power of story

I have been thinking of the “Easter” story and how it has affected my life. I’m not sure I have organized my thoughts yet. I’m not sure it’s possible to organize my thoughts about something so enormous.

This one moment in history changed everything; this moment of Christ on the cross. But not in the way that human events change history! For example a world leader makes this choice and now it sets off a chain reaction and events unfold. These are the world changing events of which history is full.

But… Jesus on the cross is different. It changed the trajectory of the world – yes. It changed how events unfolded and the course of our societies – yes again. But it also changes the direction and course of my life now, of the lives of everyone who interacts with him. His act of sacrifice was not a world changing event, it’s a continuous and on-going world changing event.

God and his work are alive in our world. Seeing his hand and his presence in our own story should be the quest of all who seek him.

I listened to this video this morning and found it incredibly moving.

Andrew Peterson: He Gave Us Stories – YouTube

The great banquet

The old man shuffled his way along the sidewalk. It was now dark and his vision was failing, so he moved slowly and deliberately, afraid of falling. He had gone to sit in the park by the ocean as he did most days. He would feed the sea gulls and watch the waves roll in, and he would think of his wife. They used to walk together on the beach.

The old man stayed longer than usual as the sunset was worth the delay. He watched until the sun was tucked behind the ocean and the glory of its rays had succumbed to the blackness of the night. But this made the return journey to his small apartment rather treacherous.

His route took him past some of the grand old mansions built in the time of the shipping magnets. A tall wall surrounds the largest of these old homes. As he approached he heard clanging of dishes and the bustle of activity. Light streamed from the house as though every room was lit up. A smartly dressed servant was walking up and down the street, carrying a little lantern.

“Someone is having a great party,” mused the old man.

He stopped and smiled and wondered what these folks were celebrating.

He turned back to resume his walk and saw the servant coming to meet him. “What does this fellow want?” he asked himself.

“Sir,” said the servant with an elaborate bow, “My master is having a great banquet, he would like for you to come join him.”

“I don’t even know your master, why would he want me to come?” the old man asked.

“My master has prepared a great feast, and he wants you.” said the servant.

“Does he not have enough invited guests?” the old man asked.

“He did, but they did not arrive, they all cancelled at the last minute.” The servant waved toward the driveway where several white vans were parked as workers unloaded food and supplies. “But the party must go on. My master asked me to welcome you and bring you in.”

The old man stood motionless. He thought about his small, dark, lonely apartment and then looked at the brightly lit home before him.

“I guess I’d be happy to oblige your master,” said the old man.

The servant nodded and then motioned as he led him to the front entrance of the great hall.

As the door opened they were not greeted by another servant but by the master of the house.

The master smiled approvingly at the servant and then extended his hand to his guest. “Welcome to my banquet, Walter, I’m so glad you could join me.” He shook the old man’s hand.

The old man stared and then asked, “How do you know my name?”

The master took Walter by the arm and led him to a seat at the elaborately decorated table. “I see you walk to the sea and back every day. Do you think no one can see you? I have watched you for years. You used to go with Susan, your wife, but for many years now you have made the journey on your own.”

The old man sat down in stunned silence.

The master leaned over and said, “Walter, eat and enjoy the banquet I have prepared.” The master patted him on the back and then returned to the door to welcome any new guests. The old man sat motionless as a tear ran down his cheek.

Luke 14: 16-24 Jesus replied: “A certain man was preparing a great banquet
and invited many guests. At the time of the banquet he sent his servant
to tell those who had been invited, ‘Come, for everything is now ready.’
“But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said, ‘I have just bought
a field, and I must go and see it. Please excuse me.’ “Another said, ‘I have just
bought five yoke of oxen, and I’m on my way to try them out. Please excuse me.’
“Still another said, ‘I just got married, so I can’t come.’
“The servant came back and reported this to his master.
Then the owner of the house became angry and ordered his servant,
‘Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring
in the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame.’
“‘Sir,’ the servant said, ‘what you ordered has been done, but there is still room.’
“Then the master told his servant, ‘Go out to the roads and country lanes and compel them to come in, so that my house will be full. I tell you, not one of those who were
invited will get a taste of my banquet.'”

The secret garden

There is a secret garden. A small space forgotten by time and the race of humanity.

The narrowest of paths leads to its unknown location. This path is rugged. This path is lined with thorns and branches. But if we persevere it leads to the narrowest of gates. A rusty, creaky hard to open gate. Behind this narrow gate, enclosed in tall walls is the most unexpected place. A garden.

It’s not the showy beauty of a cultivated garden. There is nothing civilized about it. It is wild and untamed. It is frightening in its chaotic order. It seems untouched by human hands. Nothing there seems planned and yet it was planted by someone or it wouldn’t be within the walls.

The array of flowers is surprising and unlike anything we could imagine. Our imagination being confined to what we already know, what we can see in our own minds eye. This garden is not the product of human ingenuity and labour. It is created by a mind far greater in scope.

No detail is missed. Every provision for every songbird is here. Every tree for afternoon shade grows by plan. The garden seems limitless once you pass through the gate and dwell inside the grey walls that surround it.

But above all else there is a peace. A quiet rest in the safety of the great walls. Visitors are now wrapped up in the same secret hiddenness of the garden itself. The burdens of the world lifted from our troubled hearts.

This is what our lives are like when we trust God. We walk the narrow, dark and dangerous path that he bids us take. Our future with Him is beyond what we can comprehend. And the peace of His love will wrap our burdened souls.

Matthew 7: 13 – 14   “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and
broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.
But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”

Faith in His plan

Hebrews 11:1  Now faith is confidence in what we hope
for and assurance about what we do not see.

The eleventh chapter of Hebrews starts with this striking statement. A definition of faith. We talk about faith, we try to increase our faith, but how often do we contemplate what faith is?

What is faith? Faith is confidence! Confidence in our hope. Confidence in our assurance. Confidence in what we cannot see.

Does this sound like a wish? Often the term faith is used to mean our wishes. We have faith that everything will work out in some sort of general way. “Just have faith and it will all work out,” type of sentiment.

When Bronwyn was a baby, almost exactly six months old, we took her back to Edmonton to have her second of three open-heart surgeries. We had grown attached to our sweet baby, and we returned to the hospital with dread. We waited anxiously for the surgery, jiggling our sweet girl, who was hungry and thirsty. The anesthesiologist came to speak to us. This was the moment where I had to hand over my precious baby to a total stranger. It seemed an impossible thing to do. Later I described this feeling like walking off a cliff and hoping God would catch us.

Did I wish for a successful surgery? Yes. Did I wish that the doctors would do their best? No. I didn’t wish this, I was confident in it. We had enough experience at this hospital to be confident in their work and their efforts. I was confident that we were in good hands. I was confident that God would watch over them, even if I wasn’t sure of the result.

That to me is a good explanation of Faith. My faith isn’t confidence in the outcome. My faith is confidence in that which I hope for, and that which I cannot see. I had the assurance that the doctors would do everything in their power to see a positive outcome. I had faith in the people not the outcome.

In the same way I have faith in God not in the results. I have faith in His plan. I have hope in Him.

Thoughts on grief

The other day I was walking the dog. As I walked along all bundled up against the cold; I realized that my sock was falling off inside my boot. You know this feeling. I’m sure you have had this happen to you.

It’s such an uncomfortable feeling. It can impact how you walk and it becomes the upper most thing on your mind. It was all I could think about. I was almost home, so it was at least a short-lived experience.

It struck me that this is what grief is like. Grief of a lost relationship, or a death of a loved one, or of a life you used to have. Grief is a hidden problem you carry around. You are keenly and always aware of the hurt. It is not visible to others. You limp along keeping it foremost in your mind. Yet on the surface it seems all is well.

Grief is like the sock coming off in your boot.

When I got home, I took the socks off. Actually, they came off as I took my feet out of my boots. Relieved to have the inconvenience removed.

In the same way I can pray for God to help lessen my burden. I can pray for him to light a lamp on my path. I can lean on Him.

Psalm 147: 3      He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.