Posts

Posted on

God is Good

Dear Sister,

Lately, I have found myself squirming in my seat when I respond, “God is good!”  Why do I squirm?  Because I type or say that when times are good and when times are bad. Just last night, I stopped to ask myself am I being a hypocrite?  No, seriously—is this an appropriate comment at all times or am I just fooling myself and using God’s name incorrectly?

After some introspection, I concluded the comment is absolutely appropriate at all times. Here is why:  God created the world.  He created man and woman.  After every day of creation, He said, “It is good!”  He didn’t make a single thing that required a “do over.”  After finishing His creative processes, He blessed Adam and Eve with the privilege of joining Him in managing this new, perfect world and in doing some creating of their own (“be fruitful and multiply”).

Thus far, all was good in the garden where God placed them, life was perfect.  Then woman and man used the good freedom God gave them to choose selfishness.  With one bite of forbidden fruit sin entered the world.  Humankind had ONE law to follow and we failed.  Now, daily, we fail abundantly.  To my sorrow, I choose self over God with tremendous ease.

Thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ He provided a way of escape from this cycle of death!  Because of Jesus’ sacrifice, I can say, “God is good!” at all times, for though I may be walking through the valley of the shadow of death that I richly deserve (and more besides), He is with me.  I may be profusely showered with blessings despite my sins, and again, He is so very good!

I, we, deserve nothing but condemnation and death.  Yet even while we wallowed in the mire, God gave us the life and blood of His Son and many other blessings besides.  Our very breath is a gift.

God       Is      Good,    Indeed!

Running with you,

Rebecca

Posted on

Scary Requirements

Dear sisters,

I was born in 1948. That makes me 70 years old this year. None of my decade birthdays bothered me much, but this year is different. I didn’t mind being in my 60s, but 70 seems old somehow. I don’t feel old. It just sounds old. My life flashes before me in all its fullness, joys and sadness, ease and difficulty, without Christ, in Christ. And I think of the future more these days. I think of my 95-year-old mother and all the things I did for her as her caregiver and I wonder who will care for me if God gives me that many years. My daughter has special needs. She won’t be caring for me.

God requires many things of us, some posing as choices with various consequences, depending on our choosing. Some are imposed. We have no choice. Some are easy if our personalities lend themselves to the required behavior. Other demands are more difficult and require much chiseling and refining from God’s hand. And occasionally God insists we undergo circumstances which are downright scary.

When I called 911 the other morning, I expected to follow the ambulance in about half an hour, knowing it would take awhile to get a patient situated in the emergency room. Had I not done this countless times? Little did I realize this would be the last time for my mama. I knew the symptoms were different, but I hoped against hope the doctors would fix it like every other time. As I prepared to get in the car, my phone rang and I immediately knew that on this occasion my husband would have to accompany me—and I was scared. And now, after that fateful and fearful day, I’m still afraid (when my thoughts become unharnessed from captivity to Christ’s truths), afraid of my unbidden and uncontrollable sobs, afraid of recurring black thoughts in the night hours, afraid of too-real dreams, afraid for my future, afraid of unknown prospects for the rest of my family and loved ones.

Those of you who have watched death in all its horrors head-on know the severing, the cutting in the heart, in the surroundings. Breathing and alive—and then the still chest and motionless body—all from one moment to the next. The beautiful blue eyes which warmed our hearts were closed, never to see this creation, this family, in this form, again.

Don’t tell me death is just passing from this life to the next. Well, actually that is what happens at the moment, but no matter how peaceful, no matter how much we believe the truths of the gospel and the promise of the glorious resurrection of our bodies, no matter that, for the believer, absent from the body is to be present with the Lord, death is ugly and an enemy—and enemies are frightening, in spite of how much preparation against them, no matter how much time we have to steady ourselves, no matter how much skill the undertaker plies.  When it happens, the shuddering and sobs, even primal anguish begin, and we are never fully ready for the amputation from our lives, the phantom pain which continues long after the initial loss. We come home and the symbols of life are everywhere. I open a drawer and there lie her pills. In the frig, her orange marmalade and queso. Her chair where her beautiful head once rested, now empty. The side table still holds her Bible, Tabletalk, and latest book she was reading. Her nightgown hangs in its usual place and her walker seat compartment reveals her glasses where she had just placed them the night before her breath was taken. I take out four forks to set the table before remembering we need only three.

This is not how it was supposed to be way back when God formed Adam from the dust of the ground which He had spoken into being just a few days before. Everything was perfect and death was barely a concept to that first man and his mate, until the tree, the fruit, the great deceiver and underminer…Then fear came into his heart, fear in living and fear in dying, never the original design, and he was banished from perfection and life in that lush garden forever while time remains.

I’m scared of death, the process, the missing, everything preceding and succeeding for the victim and the remaining living. But, if I were to leave you there it would be tragic and hopeless and frightening indeed. God warns us of the horrors of the final, universal humiliation (Hannah Anderson speaks beautifully of this in “Humble Roots”), but He gives us the remediation, the balm, the victory in the midst of great trepidation and sorrow. In John 11:25, Jesus comforts his dear friend, Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die [spiritually].” Therefore, for the Christian, in the middle of terrifying events for one’s self and for the in-Christ loved-one, there remains a joy and a victory based on the sovereign power, goodness, and control of Almighty God.  This final event will come, but He walks through it with us, and He has promised never to leave us or forsake us.

And then, Jesus says to Martha, after His resurrection promises and condolences, “Do you believe this?”

Oh, my sister and friend, how do we answer the Lord’s query? If this is not true, if our belief is not based in fact, we are undone in the face of death. But it is true. Christ is proof. Trust Him in the middle of grief and tears and confusion. His inexplicable peace will fill your soul and your shudders will subside and find rest and refuge in the One who walked this path to death, then resurrection, in front of us, in complete victory.

As for me, I believe what Jesus said, wholeheartedly believe it. But I also believe that there is a generation who will not taste death and I long to be in that company.  Jesus is coming back and “…we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore, encourage one another with these words.” (1 Thessalonians 4:15-18)

Fear is meant for our good. It means to warn and keep our lives straight. It means to drive us to Christ, the One who alone can relieve the deep-seated fears of our souls by His grace. John Newton says it well. “Twas grace that taught my heart to fear—and grace my fears relieved…”

At the graveside, as we sat and reminisced and wept, my shy adult daughter with special needs astounded us all when she commanded, yes, commanded us to all turn and face the box in which my mama’s body lay. Then, in her broken way of speaking, reminded us all, “Grandma not here. Grandma get new body. Grandma with Jesus. Remember that.”

Yes, I am afraid of the death process. It can hurt. It’s not pretty. But, like everything God ordains in our lives, He gives grace in the journey, in the moment, in the final place. He never leaves. He never forsakes. Right up to the end. And then, our eyes are truly opened and we are safer than we have ever been. Completely and forever safe, never afraid again.

Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus!

Your sister,

Cherry

Posted on

I Am Woman!!!

Dear sisters,

As I ruminate on this month’s topic of how biblical womanhood has affected my life, I have found myself pondering over my four decades of breath.  I must admit both my family and spiritual life have been quite an influence. My first understanding was that girls can do anything boys can do.  Then it changed into how I presented myself and whether I was married or not (a stereotypical function of a woman).  Next it was simply and only that I was an image bearer of God and follower of Christ. And finally, I am coming to realize that although God made me in His image equal in worth as a man, he designed for me different functions. And this function looks different as a single woman, married woman, mom, empty nester, or widow.

This journey began with me being born into a family with two older brothers, a dad, and a mom who is still a tomboy to this day. My mom came from a line of strong women who worked hard for the family as the men of the home struggled with alcoholism and holding a job.  She challenged me to play hard in sports, do well in school, and get a good job.  I never heard that my sex could keep me from achieving anything.

Regardless, I grew up desperately wanting to be a boy, so I could finally beat my brothers at something. I did manage (or was forced) to wear a dress to church every Sunday but wouldn’t be caught dead in one any other day of the week. The color pink for me was off-limits and my toy collection was Legos, Lincoln Logs, and Star Wars.  The idea of girls being different than boys was only mentioned by my parents so that my brothers wouldn’t hit me…to which they would reply, “she’s not a girl, she’s my sister!”  and then proceed to give me a “hurts donut.”

Then I attended a Bible school after high school.  Here I had a crisis of what it meant to be a biblical woman.  I was told how to do my hair, how to clean my shoes, that I had to wear dresses to learn, and that certain body functions were not allowed in the dorm. What?  The capstone was when I heard how many girls came to this school simply to get married rather than gain an education.  Being a biblical woman, it seemed, was how you presented yourself as well as being a wife and mother.  Huh. Something about that seemed off. I realized that being a wife and mom were biblical God-given gifts, but there had to be more than this stereotypical function to biblically define me as a woman.  What if I never got married?

I graduated the Bible school not married and I continued my education at a state school to get a degree in zoology.  I didn’t date.  I was focused on ministry in the local church and getting my diploma.  I can’t tell you how often I was asked, “When are you getting married?” or “Why aren’t you married”?  Most of these inquiries were from Christian people whom I know meant well, yet I couldn’t help wondering if they were implying that I was biblically not a complete woman unless I was married?  That didn’t seem right either.  God created me in His image, was I not complete in Christ alone?  Does biblical womanhood really mean I need to be married and have children?

It took almost another decade for me to discover what the bible really teaches about womanhood.  It begins in Genesis.  God created man, male and female, after His own image.  I have intrinsic worth because God made me!  So do you.  But wait, there is more.  God created Adam from the dust and breathed life into him.  God gave him the command to be a steward of all he had just created. Part of that stewardship was naming the animals.  Adam watched a parade of animals march by him, two by two, for probably what seemed like forever.  He saw each pair were the same…yet different.  We are told that there was not a companion suitable for Adam, so God put him asleep and formed Eve from his rib.  Not from his head to rule or from his feet to trample, but from his side, an equal companion!

What was Adam’s reaction? Was it a bro hug?  No, it was amazement and happiness.  This was a woman!  Equal in worth, yet we learn different in function and role.  God said this was good!  Eve was given the same intrinsic value of Adam, yet she also complimented him. He was made to lead, provide, protect, and love Eve.  She was made to help him emotionally, physically, and mentally as he led.  Adam and Eve were both necessary to reveal God’s glory. If this was not so, then why create male and female?  He could have stopped with just Adam, but he didn’t.

So, when I was a working single woman, I was no less incomplete. Scripture abounds with showing women thrive to the glory of God in their singleness. So my functional womanhood worked itself out as I used my gifts, service, and helper status in the local church.  Here I could love God and my neighbor to the glory of God as I serve the Lord emotionally, physically, and mentally as a woman.

Then God gifted me with my husband.  My functional single woman status changed to be his helper and companion.  At first this looked like me working to help him through seminary as well as joyfully submitting to him (OK, this is still a work in progress).  After seminary we started to have kids and so my functional role went from being a helper who also works, to being a mother who stays at home.  I have to remind myself often, that me not bringing home a paycheck does not mean my worth is less as a woman.  My intrinsic worth as an image bearer never changes, neither does my worth in Christ.  But functionally I am emotionally, physically, and mentally helping my husband and discipling my kids.  There will come a day when my kids are out of the house and I can work again if Barrett and I think that’s a wise decision.  There may even come a day when the Lord takes Barrett home.  What then?  Have I lost my biblical womanhood?  Absolutely not.

As I was teaching my daughter the differences between consonants and vowels today, I came across this analogy in her spelling book, “All people are either male or female. Each has strengths and weaknesses, and together we make up the human race.  We would not last long without each other.”  The analogy was trying to show that just like words cannot be made up of consonants or vowels alone, the human race would not survive with only male or females. God created male and female partners to compliment each other so that God’s full glory can be seen in our functional roles, no matter if you are single, married, a mom, work, unemployed, soldier, young or old.  When I realized that me being a woman has unique and special capacities that are different than a man and that they can be celebrated no matter what season I am in, I was overjoyed at God’s creative genius.

My journey of understanding biblical womanhood has been serpentine and at times, confusing. Yet God has used this sojourn to show me the brilliance of his creating man, both male and female after his own image and helping me to see the importance of my role.  I hope you do too.

Your sister in Christ,

Colleen

Posted on

I Am Woman …

Dear sisters,

I was in my early twenties when our country was experiencing a time of intense turmoil in the late 1960s and 70s. I followed the crowd, walking in protest marches dressed in a military camouflage jacket while my brother fought in a controversial war on the other side of the world in the dank jungles of Vietnam. Women were on a rampage, feminists burning their bras, sexual promiscuity rising to new heights, the stigma of babies born out-of-wedlock and divorce waning, rebelling against the social mores of two hundred years of tradition. And to the great shame of our nation Roe v. Wade was settled at the Supreme Court giving legal license to women to murder their made-in-the-image-of-God babies in wombs which were fashioned for safety and life, not gruesome extermination. Not really a feminist, I still sang lustily along with Helen Reddy and millions of others, “I am woman, hear me roar in numbers too big to ignore…No one’s ever gonna keep me down again…I am strong, I am invincible, I am woman…”, enjoying the elusive power the lyrics promised—And with Nancy Sinatra a few years before as she sang to some faceless man, “These boots were made for walking and that’s just what they’ll do. One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you.” I had not thought of these catchy yet dangerous tunes for many years until reminded of them in a Bible Study recently as we discussed the counter-cultural truths of God’s design for womanhood. I was not a Christian way back in my twenties, nevertheless, much of what was going on repulsed me though I hypocritically pretended agreement. I was brought up the old way, the biblical way, and those God-given nesting and nurturing sensibilities were part of me. I had always wanted to love a man, be married, have babies (not that these are the sum total of—or even necessary for—Christian womanhood!). I’m thankful for my inward revulsion. Good grief, God had enough to demolish in my heart, breaking down ugly rooms of sin, pointing me toward submission and a gentle spirit and a myriad other beauties to replace hideous qualities in my being when He finally brought me to Himself.

As I contemplate God’s design for womanhood and what is most meaningful to me at this stage of my life in 2018, I can’t help but ponder the first man and woman in the garden and the perfections of their creation and marriage and dominion over the land and animals and how God created woman to be a helper and a life-giver. These two go hand-in-hand implying selflessness, servanthood, and nurturing, making life easier and more pleasant for others, enabling them to glorify Christ more and more with help, not hindrance from woman. But then came the forbidden tree and its fruit and the wily serpent when everything changed and God’s glorious design became twisted, distorted in the lives of His children. Helper became hinderer, life-giver became life-taker. Such utter sadness. A pall over the once perfect.

But God still calls us to be helpers and life-givers, marred though we are, showing us how that is worked out in our lives in the classic passage on older and younger women in Titus 2:3-5, as well as in 1 Peter 3:1-5 and Ephesians 5:22-24.

Think about it. If we are life-givers, we will speak well of and to others, not killing them with gossip, whispering, and back-biting tongues. We will not drain life from our husbands and children and loved ones with smart-aleck sarcasm or put-downs, thinking we make ourselves look quick and witty.

If we give life we will be discerning without nit-picking and judgmentalism which only disclose pride in our supposed great knowledge and intuition, revealing abhorrent self-righteousness.

If we grant life we will be given to opening our homes for nurturing needy guests with beauty and graciousness and selflessness. Without hospitable hearts, our homes, our tables, our
decorations are a shell and a show, feeding our own shallow hearts with empty and ugly pride.

We nourish the souls of others and honor the Lord when we are soft and amenable, easily entreated, gentle and quiet in our spirits, forgiving one another as the Lord forgives us. Petty disputes, jealousies, and insecurities disappear as we sacrifice our lives for others and find our worth in the God of the universe, not in volatile emotions and false sense of self-esteem.

If we are giving life to our husbands, children, and others in our spheres of influence we help fill up what may be lacking in their emotional tanks, depleted from the world’s vicious and unrelenting demands.

Submission to our husbands or other authorities in our lives, deferring humbly to their leadership promotes peace, stability, joy, even freedom all around.

We give life by being self-controlled and not lazy in all areas. Lack of discipline affects everyone around us, sapping them and us of peace and calm, order, refuge, and rest.

If we do not give life to others, God’s precious Word is blasphemed as we arrogantly dismiss His commands as not as important as our agendas, feelings, convenience, or weariness.

You get the picture. Not many of our words or actions are truly neutral. Most affect those around us, bringing joy and peace and safety or sorrow or anger or discomfort. But lest we think selfless character qualities can be conjured up in some lovely personalities of our own design and doing, God tells us the ability begins with Him and His power. We are to live reverent lives before Him, Coram Deo, thinking of Him rightly as He is revealed in His Word—as Lord of all. His selfless, life-giving love, exhibited ultimately on the bloody cross, is shed abroad in the hearts of His daughters, and we, in turn, are given the power to give our lives to others as we live in obedience to what we know to be true.

I wish I could say I do these things perfectly. I wish I could say I’m a fast learner. Not so. The sanctifying process is painstakingly slow, yet sweetly persistent. I know what God expects of me as a woman, and with resolve and God’s strength in me, I press on. I ask forgiveness a hundred times in short order, but God is working His life-giving character in me, making me a little more like Jesus every day, imperceptibly at times, but as surely as the sun rises and sets—until that day when we, who belong to Him, will be like Him, having seen Him face-to-face. O blessed day.

May God make us the helpers and life-givers of His grand and wise design—to our husbands, children, friends, the church, store clerks, Amazon delivery men, strangers, even that one, an enemy, who has taken life from us, sapping our emotions and energy with thoughtless or intentional words and deeds. May others love to see us coming, not because we are charming or popular or for what they can extort from us, but because we liberally offer trustworthiness, safety, emotional nourishment, and words of truth for life here and for eternity, spoken in love.

“A gentle tongue is a tree of life, but perverseness in it breaks the spirit…Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body…Death and life are in the power of the tongue.”
(Proverbs 15:4, 16:24, 18:21)

Love,
Cherry

Posted on

Warning: No Mercy Hoarding Allowed

Dearest sisters,

I must tell you that although my letter is brief it comes with a fervent prayer that it will stir in you the sincerest desire to be thankful and generous with God’s mercy.  When I think of how our great God loves new beginnings there is no scripture more telling of this Truth than:

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23

Everyday God pours His mercy out to His beloved children because, each and every day we awaken from our slumber and open our eyes to this world, He knows we desperately need it.  We desperately need Him. Without Him we could easily be swallowed up by the world, the enemy and our own sinful flesh, the three battlefronts of our souls.

Because His love is sure and steadfast His mercy is endless. It does not take being in Christ very long before we realize how incredible this Truth is. If we have ever tried to forgive another person without this anchor you know, and I know our bitterness and resentment eventually resurface. Soon, the love and forgiveness we gave becomes something we wish we could take back. We become very choosy with whom we will give our mercy and forgiveness to. We decide who is worthy of it and who it is not! Wow! Wait just a minute that sounds familiar!  The servant who was graciously given mercy by his master and forgiveness for a debt he could never repay now chokes the person who owes him a day’s wages, comparatively speaking! Matthew 18:21-35.

“God so loved the world, that He gave us His Son…” (John 3:16). The language of this well- known verse exemplifies what the Lord says to us in Lamentations.  God loves so He gives. If you ever wonder why it is difficult to give mercy to another person, or that you want it back it could be that you don’t understand love at all. Love always gives and is constantly looking outward not inward. Check it out in I Corinthians 13:4-8.

The mercy which comes from the heart of God is never to be stored up and rationed out. That is what I call greedy. There are many excuses for hoarding the mercy God gives to us, but I think fear is most likely the number one excuse we are reserved in our giving. We are fearful of being hurt by the one we are making ourselves vulnerable to. We fear being rejected, we fear that if we give mercy to another there won’t be enough left for us. We fear being without at a later time, thinking God’s door will someday close. We fear that whatever we give out will not be given back to us. We fear looking stupid in the eyes of the world. We fear losing control of our little storehouses when in fact they do not even belong to us in the first place. You and I have been bought by the blood of Christ therefore we belong to God, He owns us! That includes our little storehouses.

We do not deserve God’s mercy, yet in an act of love He freely gives it to us.  It was not meant to be held on to but to be given out to others each day.  And at the end of the day our storehouse should be empty. Sister when I close my eyes at night I want my heart to have been emptied out, wrung out of all the goodness and mercy God has bestowed on me that day. Because, come the dawn of the next day (if He wills it to be) He will provide me (you) with it once again! New mercies each and every day. A new day a new beginning!

Who needs your mercy today? Will you choose to open the storehouse of your heart today and share what God has graciously poured into it? I pray that all who read this will do so gladly.

With love and mercy,

Susan