Category Archives: Hope

Profit and loss

Last summer I was walking through a grocery store and overheard two elderly gentlemen in a discussion. They were talking about the felony convictions of 47. They didn’t doubt he was a criminal felon. They talked about his rapes and they didn’t doubt them. They talked about his narcissism and psychotic tendencies.

And then I overheard one of them saying something I won’t forget.

“Well,” he said, “I’ll probably still vote for him. In the end I reckon he’ll put more money in my pocket than the other guy.”

That made me sad, and I thought about it.

The argument resonated with me because I was born and raised in those circles, so I’ve heard it before.

Cut taxes. Lower prices. Leave more money for all of us.

We were eventually tricked into thinking that this was the whole of the human experience.

I’m all for cutting waste and spending money wisely, but I think we need to remember what Jesus said over and over again.

What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his soul?

I don’t think he was thinking about Grecian metaphysics, with a dichotomy between spirit and body. That was a bit of a foreign concept to Jewish thinking.

Soul meant something more profound. It could be translated “life”, or “breath”. Jesus could have been talking about death. What will it profit a man to gain everything this world has to offer and then die.

And that is true. Solomon had the same insights in Ecclesiastes.

But I don’t think that even that exhausts what Jesus is talking about. Because to the mind of a first century Jew, psyche meant something even more than that. It means everything that makes a human a human. It means the self, the part of humanity that was created to reflect God.

Living through these days, I think I am starting to get a glimmer.

If your whole life is consumed by profit, and the whole of your morality is who will leave the most money in your pocket, soon you will lose your very soul.

The music and the dancing. The part that plays with the cat.

The song and the poetry. The art and the novel.

Empathy for the outcast. Love for the neighbor. joy in colors and art and expression.

The glint of a rainbow on the tear of a shepherd, the rapturous joy in the final moments of Beethoven’s fifth symphony.

The chills of the entrance of the trombone in Prokofieff’s third piano concerto; the astounding skill of Caravaggio and the brilliance of Poe.

The perfect pairing of wine with each course of dinner. The beauty and joy of the embrace of love.

The first kiss. The first time someone spoke to you with respect. Your first time making love. Your first embrace.

The first time you found someone and realized that you were wanted and loved.

Standing in the middle of a lonely highway in Wyoming singing Mahler at the top of your lungs after one too many…(not that I have EVER done this).

Growing your hair long, or cutting it short. Wearing an earring, getting a tattoo.

Or having a conversation and sharing a glimpse of your soul in safety, without fear. It took me too long to realize the joy of that. I longed for that and never knew it.

And we forget beauty and freedom and love and joy – because we are afraid.

Egg prices get high. Gas gets high. Somebody is different than I am and wants to come to my church.

And all of the sudden you are afraid that you won’t be good enough or pure enough or strict enough to earn God’s favor because you did something wrong somewhere, or you accepted and loved a sinner, or were friends with a sinner on social media, so now God is going to remove his blessing.

And somewhere along the line, you forgot – Your blessings, your “money in the pocket” doesn’t come from a politician or from making the right choices, or from working hard or running faster or having stronger will power…

It comes from the uncontrollable, unlimited, incredible love and goodness of God.

As my pastor said this morning, “It’s God’s party, and he can invite who he wants.”

And that blows the mind.

Because the love of God is free. His love and blessing for you aren’t dependent on how well you perform. He delights in you and delights in your personality and your dancing and singing. He created you to laugh and sing, even though there are times when we weep and mourn – the laughter will come again. If we don’t crush it out of fear.

And when you know and feel that love of God given so freely to you, suddenly love becomes far more important that how much money is in the pocket. And then you might see that God’s resources are unlimited. There is enough for everyone. But God is calling us to step away from our vaults and our counting machines and our investment portfolios and our fear and learn to dance again.

Cast your bread upon the waters, For you will find it after many days. Give a serving to seven, and also to eight, For you do not know what evil will be on the earth. (Ecclesiastes 11:1-2)

Paul and Silas sang in prison. We can sing with expensive eggs. Maybe that is the lesson God is showing us. That the price of eggs isn’t worth the price of the soul.

Sing, dance, paint, write a poem. And more importantly than even that –

Let your neighbor draw, sing, paint, write and dance. His enrichment might actually enrich you.

It certainly won’t make you poorer.

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Filed under Hope, Love

Love and Hate

I don’t think that republicans were either stupid or mislead in November. Trump’s character wasn’t a hidden secret. I think that they were motivated by hate and contempt. The hate of Maga had been fanned into flames for years on Fox and right wing radio, just like Rwanda in the 90s.

And they found someone who hated the same people they hated. And that was that. It didn’t matter that he had no character, no morals, no ability, no leadership, and no ideas. Hate was all that mattered. Now we reap the results.

But here is what bothers me. I fear for the future of our country. I fear for the immigrants, the women, the minorities, the children. It will continue to be a hateful, ugly mess for years to come. It might even destroy us unless someone stops it.

I have been fearful of that, and that is reasonable. But I’m starting to fear something else. I am starting to fear that those whose eyes are opened to this frightful mess will become hateful and contemptuous themselves, and the cycle will never end.

I see it in my own soul. I see the hatred blinding those who used to be friends and I get angry. Is my anger turning to hatred? I don’t know. I don’t think so. But I worry about it and pray about it.

I think maybe I need to spend less time following the dumpster fire. Not that it isn’t important to be involved and know what is going on. Social media has a very important role to play. Outrage can change politics and force action.

The question is how to express that outrage without becoming that which you despise…I don’t know if I have the answer.

But maybe after the outrage we should turn off the computer, pet the cats, watch the birds, have a scotch, read a poem, smile and wave towards the neighbors.

What good does it do to save humanity if we lose our humanity trying to save it?

I think that might be the lesson of the Republican Party. They became driven by hate for others and Donald learned how to tap into that hatred. It is all that matters.

But what good does it do to gain the whole world and win elections when you lose your soul doing it?

Now they cut art and music and libraries and healthcare, and help lines. As long as it is only the people they hate that are dying, they don’t care. It isn’t about budgets, it is about ugliness and contempt and revenge. The hatred that I have watched in the churches is now being acted out on the national stage.

So many conservative churches preach about the hatred of God for people they don’t like. They will preach on John 3:16, but the sermon is usually mostly about how it doesn’t mean what it says.

And it fires me up. Blasphemy and hatred and hurting image-bearers makes me really angry.

But in my anger, I need to remember beauty. That the one I am angry at is also an image-bearer of God. I want them to stop the hatred, but I want them to turn and learn about beauty and love.

But it isn’t easy, especially when those you love are being hurt, when children are separated from parents, when foreigners are targeted and criminals are celebrated and we live in the upside down.

But I think the only way to show the world that the country right now is upside down is if we refuse to be upside down ourselves.

So protest – but don’t forget beauty.

Picket – but feed your neighbor.

Withdraw from your MAGA congregation – but don’t let their evil consume you.

Learn to brush the dust off of your feet and not bring the uncleanness of the devil’s kingdom into your own home. You walk on holy ground.

I think this might be what Paul means when he said, “Be angry, and sin not.”

Don’t let the dust consume you.

Remember that there are always more with us than there are with them. There will be weeping for a night. There will be helplessness and hurt and pain and sorrow. There will be indescribable injustice. And who knows when God will deliver us from this evil time.

But the church has frequently been in hiding, so in hiding we might go. That’s OK. Jesus goes with us. It is the nature of this age. Resurrection comes, glory comes – but only after crucifixion.

Revelation 12:10–12 (NIV)

10Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say: “Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God, and the authority of his Messiah. For the accuser of our brothers and sisters, who accuses them before our God day and night, has been hurled down.

11They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.

12Therefore rejoice, you heavens and you who dwell in them! But woe to the earth and the sea, because the devil has gone down to you! He is filled with fury, because he knows that his time is short.”

His time is short. That is why he is so angry. Be patient. Protest, protect, picket – but be patient.

The funny thing will be all the people who will respond with fury, contempt and hatred trying to convince me that they are not full of fury, contempt and hatred. Funny how that works.

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Filed under Encouragement, Hope, Patience

The end of an era

It’s time for boldness as well as encouragement for the people of God. There are Christians like me all over the world who are grieving. They watch their Savior’s name being dragged through the mud by the worst sort of men – adulterers, liars, abusers, rapists, con-men – and these same men then take the name of God on to their filthy lips for the sake of power. It grieves my heart.

That being said – at the end of every era, By God’s design, wickedness becomes exposed as it grows more powerful and seemingly omnipotent. It is a terrifying time when an age ends.

But in God’s design, the exposure is necessary before judgment. First the exposure, then comes judgment.

Before God’s time, wickedness is restrained, hidden, in shadows and corners and down alleys. Those who have tried to speak are not believed, silenced, ridiculed, shut down – and wickedness grows and becomes more emboldened.

How many spoke up before Luther and died at the stake?

How many spoke in ancient Rome and died in the circuses?

How many were executed by wild beasts and furnaces BEFORE God brought judgment to Nebuchadnezzar?

But then the time of judgment and exposure comes.

The darkness bursts out in all it’s ugliness and hatefulness and power, crushing the soul and leaving the innocent crying out in agony. “Does anyone hear? Does anyone care?” But that is the sign that the end is near.

Follow me – God told Abraham that the iniquity of the Amorites was not yet complete. And we have followed this pattern ever since. Revelation speaks of Armageddon, when the forces of evil are at their most deceptive and most powerful.

And so the ages come and go.

One power is exposed and falls, the next rises and continues until its injustice and wickedness is complete, then it is exposed before all and destroyed by the breath of God, and another kingdom takes its place.

It is always darkest before the dawn.

We are, I believe, at the end of the age. We are in for a bit of darkness, but let’s take a look at it from the throne room of God:

This hatred and fear and contempt will grow worse and worse. The iniquity of American Evangelicalism is not yet complete. It has crushed the enslaved, destroyed humans in the Native genocides, crushed women and children in mines and factories, raped children in the Sunday School rooms and Bible camps, and has turned God’s house into a safe-haven for robbers, adulterers, and thieves.

God has sent prophets, but has not yet come in judgment, because the iniquity is not yet complete. But it is coming.

This facade of religiosity will soon be peeled back and we will be left with unmasked Baal – worship, throwing its victims into the furnaces and ghettos and death camps and will reach the height of its earthly power.

But do not fear. It is as it has always been as we approach the coming Day of the Lord.

God still has angels with swords. He still has the breath of his mouth. And when the time has come, and the evil is fully seen for what it is, it will tumble down in a moment.

Until then, my friends, do not fear.

There will be mouths to feed. Victims to sit with. Refugee families to house and hide. Neighbors to love. People to clothe. Escapees to sit with, and so so many left outside the camp.

Do not mistake what you see in the halls of Power as Christianity. It is not there. You have never found Christ in Christendom. It is a different kingdom with a different master. Jesus said that you will know his disciples by their love.

Look for it. Show it. Shine it out. Don’t be afraid.

Firing squads may come. It will be the organized church and the power-hungry religious leaders that lead the violence. This will not be where Christ’s people are.

Christ’s people will be following him. Outside the camp. On the cross. Taking the lowest place of all. Waiting for resurrection.

Hold on to that, and don’t be discouraged.

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Filed under Hope, justice

Does it turn out well?

I’m not sure I know how to write anymore. I sit down and try to get pixels on the screen, and my thoughts blur. My former life seems so long ago and I wonder if I even should write, what I would say, would anyone care, is there even a point…

Five years ago today, I created a small group of friends and shared with them a prayer request:

I’m just sharing this with a small group – those who are less likely to fill my page with adverts for essential oil and pressed juices…

Anyway, please pray for our daughter Margaret.

Right now she is in the hospital with seizures, pain, fever, headache, nausea – etc.

She’s also “altered” for want of a better word. Just not quite herself. She doesn’t respond like she normally does, and is very, very lethargic – mostly sleeping.

Just to explain one thing a little, she hasn’t checked her phone for about 18 hours.

Last night, she lost awareness of her surroundings and was unable to communicate with us for quite a while. That has come back, she knows we are here, but still isn’t really tracking.

Her fever stays high and they can’t find any cause.

She’s had 2 CT scans, EKG, EEG, tons of blood work, xray, etc, etc. and so far there is very little to go on.

Right now we are waiting for the Doc. Since she can’t advocate for herself, one of us is here all the time. Susan just went home to sleep and I am here now…We’ll tag-team it.

The admitting doctor suspects that she will be here through Sunday.

Five years ago. We didn’t know it at the time, but this was to be a long journey. For the next six weeks, we sat by her bed not knowing if she would live or die. All that the doctors could do was wait and see.

She had a virus that made its way into her brain and started killing off the tissues. About 40% of what used to be there is now just dead tissue. She had a 20% chance of survival.

But she lived, and now she has permanent brain damage. Many of you followed our journey.

Later on, one of the elders of my church rebuked me for staying by her bedside instead of keeping office hours.

He also told me that I asked for prayer too much, and that everyone had problems…

I wondered what it was about conservative, right-wing religion that hardens the heart so much.

I also started my journey into the mysteries of the brain and the personality and anxiety and regulation and holy crap how did we get so arrogant as to think that the problems of the world could be solved with making better choices?

Like I said – I don’t think I can write anymore. I feel shriveled and empty. My wife just thinks I need to take a break…but I try to process by writing.

So many things that I was so sure of evaporated during those 6 weeks, and the five years after that. I realized that behavior was far more complicated than our dogma declared it to be.

We mock the homeless and think that if they only weren’t sinners then they wouldn’t be homeless.

If single moms learned how to be chaste, they wouldn’t have to take my hard-earned money for food stamps (Yes, I actually heard that).

If victims quit being victims and just got on with life, we could all move on and pretend like everything was going to turn out all right.

What was she wearing? What were they eating? What were they drinking? Did they homeschool the kids, raise them right?

“Who sinned? This man or his parents that he was born blind?”

But watching my girl in the hospital I started asking myself questions.

What does one do when the part of the brain that interprets data isn’t there anymore?

What does one do when the part of the brain that takes in the stimuli from the outside world is twisted and inaccurate?

What does one do when the part of the brain that tells you that you are in danger gets stuck and you can’t unstick it?

What if you have no way to regulate shame, anxiety, worry, emotions and just end up screaming because you don’t know what is happening to you?

And through that process of thought, it occurred to me that the way the modern church uses the Bible is not the right way.

Let me explain – Jesus told the Pharisees this:

“You study the Scriptures diligently because you think that in them you have eternal life. These are the very Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life.”  (Jn 5:39–40.)

Humanity’s natural religion tells us that if we do good things, good things will happen. If we make good choices, everything will turn out OK. God blesses those who obey, and his curse lies on those who don’t obey.

It is deeply engrained in us for we are image-bearers of God, we were created that way.

The problem is, that we are fallen and subject to death. All of us have fallen short of the glory of God. The way to Eden is blocked and now we all are outcasts.

But we still think like Cain does. If we could just find the right formula, the right sacrifice, the right choice to make, we could enter into God’s favor again.

The Pharisees believed that as well. They would even say, “I thank God I am not like other men…” giving a nod to grace.

But ultimately everything is a transaction. Do this, and good with come. And that colored everything about how they read the bible.

Gay people? Stone them. That will fix it.

Adulterer? Moses said she should be stoned. What about you?

Transgender people? God made male and female. Obey. That will fix it.

Cut of the hand. Pluck out the eye. Chop off the foot. Drive them back into hiding.

Anxious people. DON’T BE ANXIOUS!

Worried people. DON’T WORRY!

I remember a minister in my former denomination preaching on spiritual comfort. He had a contemptuous sneer on his face while he called down shame on those who struggled with taking comfort in the gospel. “How dare you!” he would shout.

I think he thought that would actually work.

They searched the scripture. Found a verse to apply to the situation. Declared it to be fixed.

I saw an app the other day. You would look up your problem, and the app would point you to a Bible verse. That will fix it. If you are still angry, hurt, sad, depressed, discouraged, sick – then you must not have enough faith.

If you do things right, all will be well.

The problem is, as Jesus told the Pharisees, they missed the point of the whole thing, because they missed Christ. Jesus didn’t come to lead us to Moses.

How can anyone read the purity laws of the Old Testament without fear and terror? Who will escape the stoning? Who will escape the slaughter, the shame, the horror. Does the book of Leviticus fill you with love and peace and joy? Or does it cause you to look for a Redeemer?

Do you know how many animals were killed when Solomon dedicated the temple? Do you know what that would have smelled like?

Which parent would take glee in denouncing their child and casting the first stone against him? Do you want killing fields outside of your town?

Do we gather the townspeople together to watch the public burnings, brandings, disfigurements, amputations?

The curse of the law is exactly that – Satan’s weapon against humanity. And before Christ came into the world, the world delighted in law and order.

Impalings, tortures, crucifixions, beheadings, scourging…

Which one of us would be able to stomach a crucifixion or a stoning? Jesus said, “Let the one without sin cast the first stone.” And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

What kind of cruelty drives the heart that wants to bring back the law? Will it excuse you? The stones that you throw today turn against you tomorrow.

Which law will you pass that will put an end to gayness? Transgender people? Broken sexuality?

Can people just decide not to do it anymore?

Why would we delight in driving people back into hiding when God says, “Where are you? Come out. Talk to me.”

The law brings death. The curse of the law is a weapon in the hands of the One who Enslaves Humanity – Satan himself. He temps us to sin, then denounces us with the curse of the law. HOW DARE YOU – he shouts.

And the other side of the coin – if we could just free ourselves from the sinners, all will be well. No matter what the problem is, you will find a verse in the Old Testament that calls for it to be put to death.

I’m reading the law again. It is good for me, because it points me to Christ. But it is hard going. Who wants to live in a world without Christ?

Who wants to live in a world where stoning, impaling, crucifying, floggings, degradation, shame, are used as weapons under the guise of law and order?

Moses didn’t bring about a world that anyone would want to live in. Moses showed the world what the curse of the law looks like, in all of its ugliness and shame. And even then, with the “perfect law”, every still died. Everyone went into exile. Everyone suffered as slaves.

It’s like God was saying to all of us – you want to follow the religion of Cain, the religion of “Do this and live”? This is how it ends. Read the end of Judges. Read the end of the Kings. This is how the curse of the law ends.

And then Moses showed us Jesus in pictures and stories, and taught the faithful how to yearn.

“O that salvation would come out of Zion!”

Because all scripture points to Christ. The impalings, the stonings, the shame, the pain, the death – he touched it and took all of it on himself and crushed the head of the serpent, putting an end to the curse of the law.

So why would anyone want to go back?

I told you I had a problem getting my thoughts down. Bear with me…

If righteousness could come by the law, the Christ died in vain.

Jesus lived a perfect life on this earth, without sin. And it didn’t turn out well for him. He was crucified, he died. He was buried.

This is the result of the curse of the law, and he bore it all. He took Satan’s weapon on himself, and through it crushed the Enemy’s head, and took that weapon away.

And then he rose from the dead.

We don’t need more people shouting “How dare you” at us. We need a resurrection.

Our brains are far more complex than we imagine. The motives, the desires, the longings, the wiring, the experiences and the culture that human beings dwell in effect everything about us.

I think, in my meandering way, winding along a river of thought, that Maggie illustrates this pretty well. There were those who told her everything she needed to do to get better. Just be productive. Quit being anxious. Pray more. But those things just lead to death.

She can’t process any of that. She still blacks out. She still has panic attacks and anxiety. She still is physically hurt when lights go on suddenly or sounds hit the wrong frequency. She still has Tourette’s and tics and vocal noises. And none of this can be fixed by anything under the sun. She doesn’t need the law or its curse.

She needs a resurrection.

Just like all of us.

And now, five years later, we get small glimpses of future resurrected Maggie when the light shines through. When the age to come bursts through the age of death that we are in. It comes in the moments when she sits on the lawn in her special spot singing hymns to her bunny. When she waters the flowers for the fire fighters across the street. When she bakes cookies for the police department. When she says, “I pray for youuuuu”.

And when she cries and lashes out and wants to die and does it all publicly on Facebook, it is easy for many to think about the law, and maybe wonder why she doesn’t make better choices. And then, you shamefully see (maybe) that those things are not the heart of Maggie. Those things are the Powers that hold her in bondage, waiting for the Lord of Lords to cast them out and set her free.

And so, like everyone else, we wait for the resurrection and long for the Groom to come and claim his bride. We wait for his embrace, just like everyone else.

We make our choices. Some are OK. All are tainted with sin. We have moments of light in the darkness. And we have pain and suffering and loss. And those things won’t go away until Jesus casts the powers of darkness and the curse of the law into the lake of fire where it belongs, and what is left is Love.

Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

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Filed under Encephalitis journey, Faith, Gospel, Hope

The Prayer of Cain

Lord, I’m disappointed.

You know how hard I’ve worked. That offering didn’t grow itself, you know.

I really wanted to try those apples when they first got ripe, but I gave them to you.

You should have been grateful.

That corn was so good. You know that was a new hybrid. I worked really hard on that. But I didn’t even get to taste it. I gave it to you.

And I didn’t give a little. I gave a lot.

Apples and grapes; olives and barley; wheat and rye.

The pomegranates were fabulous this year. Large and plump. But I didn’t taste them. And you didn’t even notice.

I keep trying to get your attention and you don’t even notice. You aren’t thankful at all.

Don’t you know that I am something? I’m a big deal around here. I lead the family worship. I give the best of my produce. I know my way around the times and seasons and sacrifices. I’m a strong leader. I know my way around winners and losers.

You should be more thankful, Lord.

I don’t like to complain, but sometimes I get the impression that you just don’t even notice me.

Don’t you know that I am something? The man from Jehovah?

Look at that guy. My idiot brother. Talk about a nobody. He’s so whiny.

He just chases those stupid sheep all day. He’s a nothing, a nobody, a loser.

He won’t take charge. He won’t stand up for himself. He won’t even look people in the eye. He just talks about promises and hope and waiting…

Not me, though. I know that if you want change you have to grab it. You have to take control, you have to be strong, manly, in charge – otherwise they’ll walk all over you.

But that Abel. What a loser. Always serving, always quiet, always waiting for something. He doesn’t even get his wife in line. He keeps talking about love. Doesn’t he know that women need a firm hand now and then?…

Really, Lord? You accepted the loser? Don’t you know that he’s nothing? Don’t you know that he has nothing to offer?

He can’t even use a weapon right. He won’t get his women in line. He won’t stand up for himself.

Everybody knows that he is a weirdo. A loser. An outcast. Vanity of vanities. He couldn’t win a fight if the other guy was already dead.

Weak. Stupid. Foolish. A nobody.

He’ll never make a name for himself. He always does the wrong things. He always says the stupidest things.

Lord, you know that I am better than that guy – but you accept HIS sacrifice and not mine?

It really isn’t fair. As hard as I have worked. It really isn’t fair.

I won’t be in heaven if his sort is there. I’ll build my own city. I’ll build my own kingdom.

No losers allowed. Only winners. Only people like me.

And, Lord, you better get on board. You don’t want people to think that you side with the losers..

You and me. We can do better than this, Lord. I’ll explain the plan to you. If you just follow along, we can take care of the losers and set this kingdom on the right path.

But first, you have to do something about Abel. He really can’t be part of the plan. He’ll mess everything up.

We can’t be successful with his kind of people around. You can ask anyone.

But that’s OK. You can fix this. I’ll be waiting for the answer.

Until then,

Amen.

 

For the uninitiated, this is a feeble attempt to expose the thinking of the religious one, without faith. It is the thinking of the Pharisee, the seed of the serpent, the idolatrous, the Tower of Babel, and the spirit of Babylon.

Thank you for visiting. 

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Filed under Hope, Patience, Patriarchy

Why didn’t she speak up?

What a remarkable, wonderful gift the gift of speech is! We were created wo commune with God and with each other with words. Think of it!!

God created us to bear his image, and that image is first seen when the first human named the animals. He used words and connected them to ideas and filled them with content. And thus he was able to receive the revelation of God.

Adam named the lamb, and when God became flesh and entered the world, he told mankind that he was the lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.

Words. With words we pray. With words we speak the truth. With words we encourage. With words we say, “I love you” and “your hair is beautiful” and “I love the shape of you and how you fit with me and the way that your neck smells like I belong.”

But sin is now in the world, and that which was meant for beauty and truth was twisted into ugliness and lies and silence. Satan was a liar from the beginning.

Satan does not want the image of God reflected in words. He twists the words to make them ugly and hateful, and he silences the cries of the oppressed. For the darkness reigns when the dark places remain dark. It is for the advantage of the evil one that secrets remain secret and crimes remain hidden behind non-disclosure agreements.

When you read through the Psalms, you see godly men and women crying out, lifting up their voices to the Almighty One, whose Voice called them into existence.

They speak of praise and joy, pain and sorrow, laughter and anger, oppression and helplessness, despair and elation. And all of it is expressed in words.

He hurt me. He plowed my back. He is telling lies. He oppressed and afflicted me.

Because when the light is on, salvation is near. When the light is hidden under a bushel, bondage still reigns.

God would have us turn the lights on, and he calls us to use words.

But the church, which is to be the place where the light is on, is using her voice to silence the oppressed, the plowed-under, those who are crushed under unspeakable sorrow. Instead of using the voice to bring light into darkness, the voice is silenced by guilt and shame.

When one is buried by decades of silence and the heart has grown numb and buried by walls, the soul sinks into despair. But then, where the gloom has buried hope, a light finally arises and the curtains are pulled back.

And the helpless one finally finds her voice. She is finally able to speak of the atrocities done to her and bring them out into the light and look for healing.

And then those who are appointed as overseers of the soul speak.

“Did you follow Matthew 18?”

“Did you have two or three witnesses?”

“What were you wearing?”

“Where were you when this happened”

“Why didn’t you tell people earlier?”

“Why did you call the police?”

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

“What did you do to cause this?”

And here is the mistake that the oppressed make. They think that if they do everything right, say it just right, dot all of the eyes and cross all of the ts, then the shepherds will HAVE to listen. After all, they are the guardians of truth.

But here is why it is a mistake. If they believe you, their whole world must collapse. The reality of the brutality that you have experienced doesn’t fit their worldview, and therefore it cannot be real. In their worldview, those kinds of crimes happen to other people, outsiders, gentiles, not in our own camp.

If they believe you, then they have choices to make, investigations, confrontation, and cutting out a cancer. And it is far easier to ignore the cancer, pretend that it isn’t there, and go on with life than it is to do what has to be done with cancer. It is easier in the short term to silence the one who warns of cancer than to deal with the cancer.

So they don’t want to hear, and it won’t matter how it is said, they will find some reason not to believe you. They will twist words, they will pull out their verses, they will hire a PR firm, they will issue statements, they will do everything they can think of…

Except believe you.

And this is actually encouraging for the psalmist of every age, crying out for justice.

Listen closely: It isn’t you. It isn’t because you did something wrong, or said it wrong, or didn’t say it at the right time, or didn’t follow the right procedure or whatever other excuse the gatekeepers throw at you.

That isn’t it.

It is because they are of their father the devil and the works of their father they will do. He was a liar and a murderer from the beginning and the truth was not in him.

Speak anyway. Because when you speak, you shine a little light into the darkness.

But even more than that – you show yourself to be a child of the light.

Arise, shine, and Christ will give you light.

And the darkness hates the light. It always has because it loves the darkness. It is easier to hide in the darkness that to be exposed by the light.

Speak anyway. You will find that there are those who walk in the light who hear you. Who understand. Who see you.

Jesus sees you. He knows. He wants you to speak to him. He calls you to come down from the tree. Come out of hiding.

“Who touched me?” he says.

If that was you, tell him everything. He knows already, but he created you with a voice. Don’t let the Evil One silence that voice, because that voice is beautiful in your Father’s ears.

He hears you. He keeps your tears in his bottle, and every one of them will be avenged.

So speak. Write your own psalm. Speak your truth.

You won’t ever do it correct enough or have enough witnesses for the children of the devil to listen. They aren’t going to listen, not even if you sent an angel from heaven to thunder in their ears.

Speak anyway, because you are a child of light.

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Filed under Abuse, Hope, Image of God, Words

the childless woman and the miracle child

by: anonymous – guest post

I am very thankful for this guest post by a brilliant woman, a Mother in Israel, who wishes to remain anonymous.

And it happened, as He spoke these things, that a certain woman from the crowd raised her voice and said to Him, “Blessed is the womb that bore You, and the breasts which nursed You!”

But He said, “More than that, blessed are those who hear the word of God and keep it!”

— Luke 11:27,28

Those tedious bits of the Old Testament, the genealogies, make a final incursion in Matthew and Luke before they disappear from the Bible (Matthew 1:1-17; Luke 3:23-38). All the difficult-to-say names, often of obscure children born to obscurer parents, culminate here. They are bewildering, breaking up the narratives — but each name represents two hands gripping a promise. A promise to Eve, and later to Abraham, of a child (Genesis 3 & 15). Miraculous births, beginning with the birth of Isaac, whispered of this miraculous baby to come (Galatians 3:16); but I think Israel’s hope in the coming child is especially poignant in the book of Ruth.

Ruth begins in a time of famine — a woman loses her home and country, then her husband and sons, until finally, past childbearing years, she straggles back to Bethlehem. She has no future — no heir, no one to redeem the land heritage that used to belong to her. She has only a bereaved and childless daughter-in-law, for whom she cannot provide. When women from her hometown come out to greet Naomi, she tells them not to call her by her name, but by a name that means “bitter”: “Mara” — “I went out full, and the Lord has brought me home again empty… the Lord has testified against me” (Ruth 1:21).

But somehow a tale that begins with flat tones of famine and a parched life ends in the rhythms of harvest — and in greetings of blessing from the same women to whom Naomi spoke of the Lord’s curse (4:14). What has taken place between the beginning and the end, that transforms the story? The same thing that took place unobtrusively in the first chapter, in the land of Judah, transforming it into a land of plenty: the Lord has “visited his people” (1:6). The form of the Lord’s visitation (as the tale winds up with a genealogy) is a child.

I can almost trace Naomi’s features through the genealogy in Matthew. The people in that list successively sinned away their blessings until they scattered in exile. They lost the Davidic monarchy, and had no one to redeem their heritage. But the lineage straggles back to Bethlehem, and culminates in a miraculous birth.

Matthew and Luke write the last biblical genealogies because the last name they record is the name of the promised child. The Lord “has visited and redeemed his people” (Luke 1:68 ).

The dilemma of the barren or childless woman disappears with the genealogies. It is associated throughout the Old Testament with the theme of the miraculous birth. Surely there were many childless women in Israel in Jesus’ day, but the gospels contain no record of anyone coming to him to lament their childlessness — though he was the place where God tabernacled with men, the place Hannah went to lament her childlessness. Perhaps women did come to him with this trouble: what else should we do with troubles? And God has a special care for the heartache of being childless (Psalm 113:9). But it has no further episode in the Bible, after Jesus comes.

Because the longing for a child in those Old Testament stories is all mixed up with the longing for this child. The joy of the miracle birth is all mixed up with this joy. Mary’s Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55) is like a voice carrying back through time in a hall of echoes (1 Samuel 2:1-10, Psalm 113).

When Jesus comes, we read about him interacting with women without even being told if many of them have children: we presume the singleness of several. Their lack in this area never arises between him and them. It is not something they are recorded as being disturbed with in his presence. It is a point made as unobtrusively as the visitation of the Lord which changes everything, in the opening verses of Ruth.

Jesus never took a wife, nor did he father children. Not in the Old Testament sense. But the creation mandate takes on new aspects in the second Adam, when Jesus speaks of fruitfulness for those who abide in him. This is not the fruitfulness of natural fertility, per se. Motherhood is the image of fruitfulness in that which is female (the church) to Christ; and one of the forms fruitfulness takes in individual women (1 Timothy 5:10). But the fruit of the Spirit is “love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Galatians 5:22,23).

This may and often does take the arduous and devoted form of bearing and rearing children; and it may and often does take the form of bearing eternal children. So Ann Judson had only two little ones, both of whom died very young; but she helped to share the gospel with unreached people.

Yet the fruitfulness of abiding in Jesus does not necessitate being able to bear children, or traveling to distant lands. It is more immediate and spiritual, more immanently eternal: it is Jesus’ image formed in us. His miraculous life born in us even though we were dead in sins, already erupted into our bodies with a quality of resurrection. The Lord has visited his people.

Childlessness was a reproach because it was a dead end. It was the bitterness of Naomi, cut off from her inheritance in the land; her children buried without issue, without hope of any further part in the promised one. These shadows are swallowed in substance when a child is born to us (Isaiah 9:6), and we inherit God (Psalm 16:5,6).

So even David in the Old Testament can say that the greater blessing than children is to awake in God’s likeness (Psalm 17:14,15). And the reproach in the New Testament is not for the widow who has never given birth, but for the widow who is “dead” while she “lives” — living only for what makes her feel alive in this world (1 Timothy 5:4-6). The true “dead end” is spiritual unfruitfulness: every branch that does not bear fruit is removed (John 15:2).

I have been married a couple decades now, and am unable to have children. It is doubtful if I can adopt, and I won’t credit myself as the agent of anyone’s salvation. Over the years, I have been told in general and even in particular that my childlessness is a reproach in God’s ongoing economy. I’m grateful for my church family: unless I bring it up — my childlessness never arises between them and me. That is one way my brothers and sisters are like Jesus.

After wrestling through some hard years, I have nothing but delight in other women’s joy or in their children that race around me. We all have our fair share of sorrow (it is poignant to think of the sorrow that came to Rachel, Rebekah, to Samson’s mother, to Elisabeth & Mary even after they had children). But the above truths have comforted me. And there is a further wonder, which I would have liked to share with those who told me the childless woman still stands in the church as a symbol of reproach. We no longer overhear her prayers or her praises, but the childless woman doesn’t exactly vanish from the New Testament. She is transfigured. In one of those bewildering reverses of grace, the Old Testament shadow shifts, and she becomes the symbol of a miraculous hope. It is she whose inheritance Jesus redeems. This is the woman Jesus marries (Isaiah 54:5).

—Maybe that’s the thing you stand for in your community, if you are a reader who wonders why God works in other women’s bodies but not in yours; why God hears other women’s prayers, but not yours; why you should stand there year after year overlooked, and whether you will have to die childless (& for many, husbandless). Maybe you are standing there in the midst like a symbol of more staggering hope.

The new creation mandate that Jesus gives to his bride is to go and make disciples of all the nations: it turns out that all along, the childless woman has been Eve, come again. Eve, the mother of all living. The barren one has become the mother of us all (Galatians 4:26,27). She is the church. And all her children are miracle children — born when their mother was desolate, carried to her on the shoulders of kings and queens (Isaiah 49:20-23).

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Filed under Encouragement, Gospel, Hope, mother

The Joy of the Lord

10 Then he said unto them, Go your way, eat the fat, and drink the sweet, and send portions unto them for whom nothing is prepared: for this day is holy unto our Lord: neither be ye sorry; for the joy of the LORD is your strength. (Neh. 8:10)

I heard something today that disturbed me. I sat outside and smelled the night air and pondered it. What I heard is that this verse, particularly the last phrase, is used to rebuke those who are downhearted, gloomy or weeping.

I have heard this phrase. It seems to be a frequent guest lodging itself in annoying praise tunes. The idea is this:

Dance, be happy, rejoice, laugh – because God has commanded you to be full of joy in the Lord. Otherwise you will be weak and pitiful.

What bothered me is this – what about all of the times when God’s beloved people wept, or cried out to him? What about God keeping our tears in his bottle?

What about those times when violence and hatred assail our soul and we are trapped?

Or what about those times when we are bowed down by sin, crushed by the knowledge that we have offended a holy God?

That is actually the context of this verse. The people of Israel were mourning over their sins, and Nehemiah was giving them comfort.

Was he comforting by adding another commandment – be joyful!

Knowing that scripture never contradicts itself this is like an itch. I mull. I sit on the porch in quiet and think it over.

And then it occurs to me. It was like a light, a flash of joy and a thought so profound and wonderful that it doesn’t seem quite real!

What if the one with joy isn’t me? But God himself?

The word “of” can mean a variety of things. It can mean here that Israel’s joy in the Lord is their strength. OR it can mean that God’s joy in Israel is their strength.

In the context, there can be only one interpretation that fits. Israel, although convicted by the law, is told to stop weeping, get out the food, eat and drink and give generously to those who have nothing.

Why? Because even though they have sinned before God, God takes great joy in them. The joy is the Lord’s for Israel, not Israel’s for the Lord! And this changes everything.

Rather than being a command to Israel, it is a motive for OUR joy. In Christ, God’s anger is taken away. He rejoices over us. He even sings over us. He delights in us.

THIS is our strength. God’s joy in his people.

If we look within to see our joy in God and try to work some up so that God doesn’t zap us, we will never succeed. How can we rejoice? How can we love, if we view God as a harsh lawgiver ready to stomp us down any moment?

The answer is that we cannot. We can only rejoice when we fully understand that God delights in his people. The joy of the Lord is our strength.

Meditate on that. Think about how God delights in you. You are acceptable, loved, wanted, desired. Yes, your sins are many. But God’s grace is far greater.

Yes, the pain is real and the tears are real. But God isn’t in heaven scoffing at you for weeping at his harsh providence. He is holding your hand; walking with you. He is leading you to quiet pastures because he actually WANTS to. He loves you freely, not from compulsion – but that love means that he actually delights in you.

Do you know those parents that tell their kids, “I love you, but I sure don’t like you very much right now.”

And you see the child just crumple. How painful it is to not be wanted, to not be delighted in. We were created to be delighted in.

And yet in the cursed world, we are very used to the door slams, the unfriending on Social Media, the booting out of the inner circle – Jesus even said that they would throw his people out of the synagogues.

But being an outcast isn’t who you are before God. You are accepted and loved.

The joy that comes from the Lord, freely given to his people, is their strength.

Amen!

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Filed under Gospel, Hope, Love

A Response to TGC on weeping

A couple of days ago, Kevin DeYoung published an article on The Gospel Coalition’s website concerning weeping with those who weep.

I found it quite disturbing, and I want to attempt to explain why.

To set the mood for the blog, he introduces Romans 12:15 and writes,

In recent years, the second half of the verse in particular has been emphasized as a key component in caring for victims, in listening to the stories of the oppressed, and in showing compassion to the hurting.

And then he adds:

These emphases are right and proper. Oftentimes the first thing we must do with sufferers is simply come alongside them, acknowledge their pain, express our condolences, and assure them of our love and prayers.

So far so good.

And then he spends the rest of the blog adding qualifier after qualifier until nothing is left.

The most disturbing sentence is this one:

Surely, the second half of Romans 12:15 does not mean that the only response to grieving people is to grieve with them. Diving into facts, pursuing objectivity, listening to all sides—these are not invalidated by Romans 12:15. “Weep with those who weep” does not dictate that the reasons for our weeping can never be mistaken. In short, the verse must mean something like “weep with those who have good, biblical reason to be weeping.”

I will explain why this disturbs me in a moment. First, to be fair to Rev. DeYoung, I would like to give his reasoning. Arguing from the parallelism of the passage, he writes:

One, almost everyone interprets the first half of Romans 12:15 along the lines just stated above. That is, no one thinks God wants us to rejoice with those who rejoice over the Taliban coming to power. No matter how genuine the rejoicing may be, Christians should not join with those who celebrate abortion or parade their sexual immorality or delight in racial prejudice. Instinctively, we know that the first half of Romans 12:15 means something like, “rejoice with those who have good, biblical reason to be rejoicing.”

His argument, then, is that since we do not indiscriminately rejoice over the Taliban coming into power, but rather we rejoice with those who have good and Biblical reasons for rejoicing, it then follows that weeping also must only be done with those who have good, biblical reasons for weeping.

First of all, this trend among the celebrity neo-“reformed” to view compassion with suspicion is quite disturbing. Why is there such a need in these guys’ minds to add caveat after caveat to compassion and empathy? As soon as we start defining who is and who is not worthy of our compassion, we enter into dangerous territory.

But before I go there, I would first like to critique his exegesis. He adds so many “traditions of men” that the command of God is of no effect, and is therefore committing the same fallacy as the Pharisees of old. Jesus explains this in Mark 7:9ff.

9 He said to them, “All too well you reject the commandment of God, that you may keep your tradition.
  10 “For Moses said,`Honor your father and your mother’; and,`He who curses father or mother, let him be put to death.’
  11 “But you say,`If a man says to his father or mother, “Whatever profit you might have received from me is Corban “– ‘(that is, a gift to God),
  12 “then you no longer let him do anything for his father or his mother,
  13 “making the word of God of no effect through your tradition which you have handed down. And many such things you do.”
  (Mark. 7:9-13)

In other words, according to the teachers at the time, if they had “good and biblical reasons”, they were not obliged to provide for their parents. What more biblical reason could there be than dedicating all of your goods to God himself?

DeYoung makes the same error, in my view. He takes a simple command…weep with those who weep…and adds so many caveats in order to explain that not EVERY person weeping deserves our tears of sympathy.

There have been so many articles lately about this that it is starting to bother me. What are they trying to prevent? Why are the tears of the abused so threatening to them that they have to find a way to silence them?

But back to DeYoung’s exegesis. His example of the Taliban does not hold up, because according to the text itself, Paul is speaking of the context of our neighbors, our fellow church members, and those that we interact with every day.

DeYoung finds the most extreme example (surely you wouldn’t rejoice with a terrorist) and then seeks to apply that to our neighbors.

He also draws a false contrast – “Diving into facts, pursuing objectivity, listening to all sides” is contrasted with weeping with those who weep. It appears that what he is saying is that you can do one or the other. If you dive into the facts, etc., and then determine that the one weeping has grounds for weeping, then Rom. 12:15 comes into play, but not before.

Wow. It just got complicated, didn’t it? Since sin is in the world, if you follow what he seems to be saying, you will always find a reason not to weep with those who weep. There will always be sin involved, therefore I don’t have to obey God. We nullify the command of God so that we might keep our traditions.

One more note on this, Paul isn’t talking about a judicatory of the church. Why must we all, as private citizens, assume that we are the arbiters of truth and that every complaint brought to us must be decided as if we were judges and jurists? Why can’t we just believe people and weep with them? Paul isn’t talking about adjudicating their case. He is talking about compassion.

But what if this passage means exactly what it says. “Leave vengeance in the hands of God. Love without hypocrisy. Empathize with one another.”

Rejoicing and weeping require some entering into the emotions of others, and this terrifies certain minds of the Reformed persuasion. But what if we let the scripture shape us, rather that us trying to make scripture fit our molds?

What if we learned what made our neighbors weep and wept with them?

Suppose, to use and extreme example, our neighbors are a gay couple. And suppose the state legislature passes a law forbidding gay couples from cohabitating together. They are scared. They don’t know what the future holds. Their whole world has turned upside down. Do they have “good and biblical reasons” for weeping?

It gets tricky, doesn’t it? Now you have to determine if the desire for safety and peace, the longing for acceptance and worth, and the security of a person’s home are biblical desires, and if so, are they trumped by the fact that they are living in sin?

Suppose the Taliban has taken over and has commanded that every gay couple be publicly flogged and then executed? Do we weep with them then?

If we ever get to the point that we are OK watching anyone getting flogged publicly, or executed by stoning, we are in a very scary state indeed.  I fear that we are headed there faster than we think.

Wouldn’t it be easier to simply weep with those who weep, and try to enter into their pain and sit with them?

Example two – a 15 year-old girl is raped. She gets pregnant and she is terrified of her church finding out. So afraid, in fact, that she sees no alternative but to abort her baby.

Is she no longer worthy of our tears? Is she no longer human now? What if it happened while she was at a party that her parents didn’t know she went to? What if she was drinking there? Is she now no longer worthy of our tears? No wonder she is terrified of telling the church, if their response is dictated by people like DeYoung. First, determine if their weeping is good and biblical. THEN weep with them. No wonder we are losing the war against abortion.

One example I read a few months ago was this one, “Surely you wouldn’t weep with a drug dealer who lost his whole stash in a house fire.” Once again, using the most extreme example that you can think of isn’t really the best way to do exegesis.

But let’s look at it. Suppose that this drug dealer is your son. And the drugs that he lost weren’t his. And now the cartel is after him. We can certainly hold to our belief that actions have consequences and at the same time be crushed with grief and tears. Surely every parent knows this grief. Surely the father of the prodigal wept great tears at the state of his son, even though it was his son’s fault he was in that state. Isn’t that the point of our faith?

Don’t we worship a God who plucks us out of the miry pit?

Jesus himself wept over Jerusalem, even though their destruction was just and good.

I would never bare my heart to anyone who says things like this, and it certainly isn’t what Paul means.

Paul means quite simply what he says. If your friends and neighbors are rejoicing, rejoice with them. If they are weeping, weep with them. It simply means to enter into their lives. They are image-bearers of God. It certainly doesn’t mean to approve of their sins. If means to have compassion.

You cannot do this without empathy. I am extremely disturbed that compassion and empathy are viewed with such suspicion in the church in these past few years.

But such is the result when you think that the point of Christianity is winning a culture war rather than loving God and your neighbor. These are two quite different things.

But there is one more thing even more disturbing. It is inexcusable that a pastor of sheep wouldn’t be aware of this. Do you know what this article will do in abusive homes?

Do you know what will happen if we tell abusive and violent men that they must not weep with their wives and children if they do not have biblical reasons to weep?

To me, this is the most disturbing part of the whole thing. It is saying that I must determine if your tears are biblical before I can weep with you. The damage that this will cause will be immense. Wait for it…

Wisdom is justified by her children. So is foolishness.

I am afraid that this teaching will bear some very ugly children.

If we are secure in our righteousness before God, if we truly understand that we are complete in Christ already, then we can weep with those who weep without fear that we will somehow become tainted by their sin.

If Jesus waited until he had good and biblical reasons to weep with us, we would still be lost in our sins.

2 “Son of man, cause Jerusalem to know her abominations,
3 “and say,`Thus says the Lord GOD to Jerusalem: “Your birth and your nativity are from the land of Canaan; your father was an Amorite and your mother a Hittite.
4 “As for your nativity, on the day you were born your navel cord was not cut, nor were you washed in water to cleanse you; you were not rubbed with salt nor wrapped in swaddling cloths.
5 “No eye pitied you, to do any of these things for you, to have compassion on you; but you were thrown out into the open field, when you yourself were loathed on the day you were born.
6 “And when I passed by you and saw you struggling in your own blood, I said to you in your blood,`Live!’ Yes, I said to you in your blood,`Live!’
7 “I made you thrive like a plant in the field; and you grew, matured, and became very beautiful. Your breasts were formed, your hair grew, but you were naked and bare.
8 “When I passed by you again and looked upon you, indeed your time was the time of love; so I spread My wing over you and covered your nakedness. Yes, I swore an oath to you and entered into a covenant with you, and you became Mine,” says the Lord GOD.
9 “Then I washed you in water; yes, I thoroughly washed off your blood, and I anointed you with oil.
10 “I clothed you in embroidered cloth and gave you sandals of badger skin; I clothed you with fine linen and covered you with silk.
11 “I adorned you with ornaments, put bracelets on your wrists, and a chain on your neck.
12 “And I put a jewel in your nose, earrings in your ears, and a beautiful crown on your head.
13 “Thus you were adorned with gold and silver, and your clothing was of fine linen, silk, and embroidered cloth. You ate pastry of fine flour, honey, and oil. You were exceedingly beautiful, and succeeded to royalty.
14 “Your fame went out among the nations because of your beauty, for it was perfect through My splendor which I had bestowed on you,” says the Lord GOD. (Ezek. 16:2-14)

Isn’t that beautiful. He doesn’t wait for his people to live before he gives them life. He doesn’t wait for them to be worthy of compassion before he has compassion.

Are we not to be tenderhearted, as God is tenderhearted? It seems we are missing something crucial about our faith.

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Filed under Faith, Gospel, Grief, Hope

Is God still Good?

We see the announcement of a pregnancy, and we rejoice. “God is so good!”

God hears our prayers and a job opportunity arrives and we rejoice. “God is so good!”

We recover from the disease. We heal from the surgery. A care package arrives and we rejoice. “God is so good!”

He is good to us, isn’t he? We see the sun and the moon and the stars and we rejoice. We taste the apricot and the wine and the olive oil and we say, “God is so good!”

But what happens when you are on hour number eight- again – in the Emergency Room, fully expecting, “All your tests were normal. Follow up with your regular doctor tomorrow.”

What happens when the specialist that your wife REALLY needs to see as soon as possible can possibly squeeze you in in October?

What happens when you spend year after year watching the one that you love suffer so much and there is nothing anyone can do about it?

What happens when your friend is dying from cancer?

Is God still good then?

Is God still good when the baby is born blind?

Is God still good when your children turn their backs on God?

Is God still good when your friends are suffering and you can’t help at all?

When you are outside the wall of the best health care in the world but you can’t get access?

Is God still good then?

And all you can say is “Lord, save me!” and you know above all that God is good.

It goes deeper than “he has a plan”. That too often just seems trite.

I think it is more like silver in a furnace. Like a launderer’s soap.

Even then, though – that doesn’t really speak of the goodness of God.

What language shall I borrow? What words can I stammer? When “Lord save me” doesn’t quite cover everything, what else can I say?

And yet, there he is. In the bottom of the well. In the depths where I cry. There he is, because he is good.

And if I didn’t spend hour after hour in the emergency room, if I we didn’t suffer together, we wouldn’t have seen it. We would have thought that the goodness of God is the same as oil and wine and bread and new babies.

They are great gifts of God. But they are not God. And when we suffer in the depths, that is where we most often meet him.

He is there when the dross is burning away, where the last remnants of self-help and our arrogant pride and self-assurance are being burned away in the fire, when we are exhausted from the race, and just want to throw in the towel….there he is.

In the valley of the shadow of death. He takes us through because he knows it is the only way to the green pastures.

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Filed under Goodness, Hope