No Greater Joy…

“I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth”
the apostle John said.(3John 4)  He could have continued but didn’t: ‘and no greater anguish than when they stray from the truth.’ 

Being a person who sees the cup as half empty more often than half full, I gravitate to seeing the anguish end of the spectrum more often than the joy end.  So it was very sweet this week to have my own daughter poke her thoughts into my sphere via a text message pointing me to a couple of passages that I needed to be reminded of. 

Mine was a week without a lot of down time; we were visiting the grandkids. My Bible reading and quiet times suffered consequently and I was fast heading to the default of feeling fearful and helpless about ones I love but cannot shield from their own choices and from the big bad world we all live in.  The kids were tucked in bed and I took a few minutes to reflect on where this tension I was feeling was coming from.  As is my habit, I was journaling about it.  I got to the end of the page with no answers, just questions, and a prayer: “Lord, change my heart. Show me how You live with kids in process—and still at peace.”

For me journaling helps to unearth what’s bothering me so that it doesn’t just simmer below the surface building up pressure.  But its best product is in helping me bring what is troubling me to the Lord and the Word.  This night was no exception.  Earlier in the day, Rachel had texted me pointing to a couple passages she’d been reading and was very excited about.  I was in the middle of playing “Grandmom” and hadn’t had a chance to look the verses up.  Now they came back to mind.  And turning to the familiar  Isaiah 53 I found the answer to my question.  How does God live with kids in process?  How does He have peace in the midst of a sinful world?  “…he poured out his soul to death…he bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors.”  (Is.53:12)  It was as if God had been waiting all day to answer my question, and He had sent the answer via my own daughter.

I asked her to write down her thoughts for me after we had talked on the phone and I’ve invited her to share them with you here:

“ It's like one person wrote the Bible,” my Bible professor used to say, "and had one thing to say.” --Kelly Doherty, Torchbearers school.

Isaiah 53 is a passage we all know is talking about how Jesus went to the cross and died for us. We can almost quote it from memory. Crazy thing is, it was written years and years before it actually happened. Imagine someone reading that before. We can clearly see it happened; we understand it was talking about the crucifixion. I was reading through Isaiah and you know how you peek ahead in your Bible to see what's coming? Well I did, and I thought I knew; I already had read that passage. Nothing new here, I thought. But I was wrong. It’s kinda cool how new things pop out of the page when you read the passage again. Go ahead read it for yourself.

Verse 11 and 12 really stood out to me.  Ready for it?
"As a result of the anguish of His soul, He will see it and be satisfied.
By his knowledge the Righteous one, My Servant, will justify the many,
As he will bear their iniquities.” (Is.53:11 NASB)

Than, holding your finger in Isaiah 53, hop over to the New Testament to Romans 5:18:
"So then as through one transgression there resulted condemnation to all men, even so through one act of righteousness there resulted justification of life to all men." (NASB)

Than, go back to reading Isaiah 53:12--
Therefore, I will allot Him a portion with the great,
And He will divide the booty with the strong;
Because He poured out Himself to death,
And was numbered with the transgressors;
Yet He Himself bore the sin of many,
And interceded for the transgressors. (Is.53:12NASB)

This is where it gets really exciting…

If you flip over to Hebrews 12:2 and read it you could say your jaw pops open. It's like that verse wraps up Isaiah 53’s passage:
"... fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." (Heb.12:2NASB)

Wow.  And because He intercedes for us, we can draw near to Him at the throne of grace. (Heb.4:16) Know what that means? We can bring any care, any worry, any problem to Jesus because he intercedes for us. He cares for us so much he even died for us. When is the last time you did that for your friend? 

And what I find really cool with the Bible--it's like one person wrote the Bible. It’s like the Bible fits together perfectly with verses that match so well you shake your head in disbelief. It's like you don’t even need a commentary to read the Bible. The Bible is the best commentary on the Bible. It is really like one person wrote the Bible. But…you say, a lot of people wrote the Bible, not just one. But God inspired it. He just used men to write what he wanted them to write. 

I went to Bible school last year at a Torchbearer school. There are many teachers that I remember; I can almost hear their voices now. There was one outstanding voice I hear even to this day, in his British accent, a guest speaker. “ There is a man in heaven!” he’d shout, giving you a heart attack if you weren’t listening already,  “Who intercedes for us.”

Amen!

--Rachel

Well, that’s my Rachel.  Actually, that’s God’s Rachel.  And not only am I encouraged at the reminder that the most important intercession of all has already been done for me and for mine, but I am encouraged to see my own progeny following hard after truth and coupling it with faith in the One who ever lives to intercede for us.

When my gaze falls short of Him I begin to think it’s up to me to do something to control outcomes.  I begin to feel desperate, panicky, fearful and faithless, as though if something is to be, it’s up to me to bring it about.  I may indeed have a calling.  For instance, I too am called to intercede.  But this must flow from a God-confidence borne of the reality that it is God, not I, that is accomplishing the work of redemption.  He is in the process of bringing many sons to glory.  He will complete that work. Meanwhile He calls me to believe and so to walk, trusting and obeying, faithful to His calling and leaving the rest with Him.

I needed the reminder this week. Thank-you, Rachel, and thanks be to God.  He is indeed faithful to those He has called to be His own. 

--LS

BUT MY RIGHTEOUS ONE SHALL LIVE BY FAITH; AND IF HE SHRINKS BACK, MY SOUL HAS NO PLEASURE IN HIM.  But we are not of those who shrink back to destruction, but of those who have faith to the preserving of the soul. Heb.10:38,39 NASB

Therefore, He had to be made like His brethren in all things, so that He might become a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people.  For since He Himself was tempted in that which He has suffered, He is able to come to the aid of those who are tempted. Therefore, holy brethren, partakers of a heavenly calling, consider Jesus, the Apostle and High Priest of our confession;  He was faithful to Him who appointed Him, as Moses also was in all His house. Heb.2:17,18; 3:1-2 NASB

Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be preserved complete, without blame at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.  Faithful is He who calls you, and He also will bring it to pass.  Brethren, pray for us. I Thess.5:23-25 NASB]

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Rachel Love is my youngest child. I’ve written about her here before.  She’s cut from a different mold than I. She’s adventurous and positive, not easily discouraged or held back by ‘what if’s. She’s continually coming up with ideas that bounce right past my more practical objections.  She lives with confidence that God will direct her steps as she takes them.  And so she is currently spending the summer with her Grandma in the boonies of Alaska which has opened up for her the opportunity to do office work (something she’s always wanted to do!) at a local campground while she waits to see what doors God will open next for her. Her faith inspires me.

“He has my heart”

The little guy sat among all those adults coloring while the preacher preached. He was only six but his parents thought the whole family should sit in church together-- whether they 'got' everything that was said or not. So, here he was, coloring as Pastor Roger laid out his theme…

God treasures our sacrificial love. We show we love Him when we give the best that we have… The widow gave her mite. Mary spent her precious bottle of perfume. Cups of water given in His name count too. As the message came to a close its theme was brought home with a pointed question: "Does Jesus have anything of yours in His treasure box?"

Without hesitation, the little fellow looked up from his coloring and responded matter-of-factly: 'Yes, He has my heart.'  Few heard his little voice. But his mother, sitting beside him, teared up at his words. To her they were precious—an indication that he really understood the transaction he had made with Jesus several weeks previous.

It had happened on the walk to the school bus stop. How she hated to release her tender first-born to the wide cruel world in this way, but at least she could accompany him to the bus stop… She had baby brother in the Snugli and little sister in tow. And as they walked they couldn't help noticing the majestic billowing clouds on the horizon. It had made her think of Jesus' promise to return and to whisk away His children to meet Him in the air. And so they talked about that.

Would everyone go? No, only those who had invited Jesus to live in their hearts…Well her firstborn son sure didn't want to miss out on that. They had stopped and bowed their heads right then and there on that long dusty driveway under the shade of a big blue umbrella and they had done business with God. It was a simple beginning to a relationship with Jesus. But that child knew that Jesus had his heart, and  counted it precious.

That was twenty-three years ago. The little fellow grew up to be a strapping young man—handy and hard-working, daring and doing all manner of things hitherto unheard of in his family. He was a dynamo, that boy. Everything he did was done with intensity. He threw himself into stamp collecting and odd jobs, magic tricks and juggling. He swam competitively and memorized AWANA verses the same way. He composed and performed rap lyrics that echoed long after the performance ended. He wrote unforgettable essays and plays--unforgettably revealing and convicting, that is. And eventually he graduated from high school and moved away to see what in the wide world he had missed in the protective environs of home…

Many things vied for his heart; it was a big one—strong, and eager to live fully. He embraced mistakes as an effective way to learn, and grew wise. All the while his heart was kept in Jesus' treasure box. Try as he might to give it away to lesser things, the reality of his childhood decision pulled him back. He himself would remind his anxious mother of the reassuring proverb that a child well-trained will not turn away from his upbringing. And his mother watching from afar gradually let out her breath and thanked the Lord for keeping this one's heart in His treasure chest. And she watched as her son became the devoted husband of a God-fearing and beautiful wife, and the affectionate father to his own little ones.

And as she watched, she prayed… This was her calling. This is her calling still. Her first-born's 29th birthday is coming up. She is proud of all that he has become and is becoming. She feels privileged to have been called to the role of "mother" to this whole-hearted son. And as she watches God's hand at work in his life, she stores up all these things in her own treasure box. And one day, when Jesus comes in the clouds to whisk His children away, she will present it to Him in gratitude for letting her share this small part in furthering His Kingdom.


Happy Birthday Son!

I am confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus!

--LS

Who is the faithful and wise servant, whom his master has set over his household, to give them their food at the proper time? Blessed is that servant whom his master will find so doing when he comes. Mt.24:45,46

But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart... Lk.2:19

"Thine is the greatness and the power and the glory and the victory and the majesty… all is thine." I Chr. 29:11

Has it really come to this?

Never before have I lost my glasses. They've always been stuck to my face, ever since the third grade when I crept into class that first day with my new cat-eye glasses. But now, there are multiple pairs… and where did I put those reading glasses?!

And there are pills doled out at breakfast—Am I becoming my mother?! Pills to make up for missing sunshine. Pills to rejuvenate aging eyes. Pills to ward off aging…(?!)

And what's this minty scent that wafts me through my days? Ben-Gay?! Yes, they still make the stuff, but surely this sore shoulder muscle isn't here to stay…

Hmm… skin cancer, could this little spot be it? I have just read up on what ''Basal Cell Carcinoma" is. Now for the doctor's appointment. Whoever thought about these things before?

Yes, it's really come to this. I'm getting old. I'm past the half-way point and heading for the home lap assuming it will be shorter, harder and less fun than the first half but really not at all clear what it will be like! Family life is all I've known. I peek back over my shoulder at the happy olden days and wonder how I can pack them away in albums and move on before turning into a pillar of salt from the tears!

To compound my sense of loss, my career as a homeschool teacher of 23 years is ending, abruptly, soon. I feel like a student myself with this deadline looming with such finality. Whether I learned all my lessons or not, whether the assignments got done well or not, the term is up. My work is due 'as is' for grading. How did I do? What have I accomplished? There is no grade point average for me this time around. My five graduates will live with the results, for better or worse. (Now there's a disturbing thought!)

And I’m aching for reassurance that I did good. (I know that’s not good grammar, but it’s what a soul wants to know). I don’t need affirmation in the Comment Box, I need to hear from my Supervisor that He is pleased. Only His Words will suffice to displace this sagging feeling that my best was not good enough.

Never mind ‘best’, who can honestly say they’ve done their best day in-day out for the length of a career? Really? No, we bring at our work what we have to bring, ourselves. And being human and faulted with great cracks and fissures, we bring our weaknesses. These too go into the mix that will make up the final product. All these years and lesson plans and books later I have completed my assignment. The term is ended. But I’m not sure I’ve done a good enough job.  Five fledgling adults educated under my watch are trying their wings in the real world while I sit on the sidelines watching, and waiting, and wondering how we’ve done (and what’s next?!)...

Against this backdrop of doubt and insecurity God speaks Words I need to hear: a call, a gentle correction and a healthier orientation. And I must admit, deep down past all my Eeyore impulses and growing (old) pains, I am excited despite myself for what's to come. I am ready for a new stage. As armloads and boxes of books head out the door the bookshelves stand enticingly empty for a new round of learning. Living spaces too are refigured for new purposes. Life is brightened with endless possibilities. I've even found renewed enthusiasm for gardening. Turning soil and pulling weeds in hopes of new life to come is therapeutic!

But just case you too are in a stage not quite comfortable, not quite confident, not quite all you hoped it would turn out to be, may I offer you the words that have encouraged me this week—a call, a correction, and a new orientation?

First there was this call.  A friend unwittingly pointed me here, to Solomon’s love Song, a picture of lover’s bliss and ultimately of Christ’s love for His bride.  May I paraphrase the Lover’s words?

Listen, hear the birds, see the flowers?  It is springtime.  So, ‘arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away….let me see your face, let me hear your voice…catch the foxes for us, the little foxes that spoil the vineyards, for our vineyards are in blossom.’ 

In each new season of life, Christ calls us to come to Him, to talk to him, to be known by Him, and not to let anything spoil the yield in our vineyard. 

In these winsome words I am reminded of my primary calling, to know and be known by Christ.  This is what really matters.  Many will call Him ‘Lord, Lord’ and point to all their ‘wonderful works’ as evidence of this relationship, but He will profess: “I never knew you; depart from me.” Mt.7:22,23 No amount of work done in His name will make up for a failure to be known by Him.  He’s not so much interested in what I’ve done, as in knowing me.  And so He calls, “come away…let me see your face, let me hear your voice…”.  Here is my invitation to put aside doubts of sufficient worthiness and relax ‘as is’ in the sheer delight of being His desired companion.

A gentle correction came one quiet morning as I sat by the woodstove warding off the chill, reading and thinking, and fretting too, over my failures in this final year of school—technical details and ‘holes’ in our education.  The story of Martha and Mary was before me and I heard Martha’s accusation as I had not heard it before:  “Lord, do you not care that I have to do everything? Tell Mary to help.”  Jesus wouldn’t consent.  He knew Martha was pre-occupied with lesser things and that Mary had found what was important. 

How easy it is to use prayer as a means of getting God to see we need help that He can surely provide.  Surely He will help us accomplish our goals.  How often have I been frustrated this year that school is not what I want it to be?  And even now, short on weeks and long on unmet goals Jesus’ words come with gentle reproof:  Linda, Linda, “you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary.”  And what was that one thing that Mary was doing?  She was sitting at Jesus’ feet and listening to His teaching. 

Martha had been the one to welcome Him into their home, but she’d lost sight of the value of His company, in her conscientious effort to serve Him.   And again a still small voice beckons me to let go my determination of what needs to be done and listen to what’s on Jesus’ heart.  After all, were we to master all the finer points of grammar and writing, of science and math yet not have learned to value time spent with Jesus, what would we have accomplished? 

Lord, forgive my obsessions with lesser things. Thank-you for denying my demands in order to point me to what is most important.  I am grateful.  Make your priorities for my kids mine also.  When your Kingdom and your Righteousness are first in our hearts, the rest will fall into place as you intend. (Mt.6:33)

The final word of encouragement that has given me a fresh orientation came by way of a wise blogger mom at a similar life stage to my own.  In her ‘keeping it real’ way she arrested my attention with these words:  “It is not our calling to ‘raise Godly children’”.  What?!  She went on to clarify by way of contrast:

"It is our calling :

• to be authentic believers and live out the gospel before our children.
• to nurture, instruct, guide, love, and pray for our children.
• to share God's Word, and share the gospel with our children.

God is the only one who can work in a child's heart and change him into a godly person. His Spirit draws them, opens their eyes, and changes and matures them.”

--Gina Smith at http://www.keepinitrealgina.com

 

A subtle shift in meaning, you say?  No, for me it was an essential reminder not to assume a role never intended for me.  It may be my desire for my children to all be more perfect and godly than I, but this is not my job description. It cannot be.  Only God can make any of us godly!  We are called to love, to nurture, to teach and to discipline and perhaps most of all to depend on God to do these things through us and  in spite of us.  We all fail in many ways.  We don’t do the things we ought, the things we wish we had, or even all the things we could.  But God in His great mercy calls us each to Himself, loves us dearly and invites us to know and be known by Him.  And at my age, this is a good place to have come to.

--LS

For we know in part and we prophesy in part,
but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. I Cor.13:9,10

For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love. I Cor.13:12,13

“My beloved is mine, and I am his…” Sgs.2:13

Are You Humble Enough to Be Care-Free?

I’m spending the week with the grandkids—doing a lot of Lego, swinging, reading, and a lot of being an appreciative audience… which leaves just a little time for reflecting, and most of those thoughts are on parenting.

It occurs to me that one profession bound to aid the disciple of Jesus along the path of humility is parenting!  Maybe not at first.  They are so cute, so clever, so perfect, so OURS… Then comes reality.  Of who we are, of who they are.  Yes, cute. Yes, clever. But no, not any more perfect than us.  And we pray, “Lead us not into temptation.  Deliver us from evil.” And HELP!!! we haven’t what it takes to do this job!  Rescue us from our messes! This starts in the toddler years but does it ever end?  this need for a  Saviour?   Not yet for me.  I only hope to learn to pray in the process.

I’ve been thinking a lot about prayer these days, wanting to get back to the simplicity of it and shake off tradition and formality. Ironically that brings me back to the prayer Jesus gave as a model:

"Our Father in heaven, Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven…" I haven’t really gotten past that yet.  Though this verse has been construed to mean strange unBiblical things, its essence is a request that God be glorified, that His will be done in every facet of our lives between birth and the grave…. It implies a relinquishment of my will in submission to His, not primarily for my benefit, but for His Kingdom’s sake.  I often find prayer stressful, coming as I do with my urgent desires (and sometimes my perceived solutions which I have no means of attaining on my own).  But though God welcomes our petitions, prayer is not a twisting of His arms or an asserting of my rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for me and mine (or any other good thing).

My best counselor and friend (my husband!) reminds me again and again that prayer is about aligning our wills to God's, not about asking, begging or demanding anything. It's not about getting everything in order in my sphere but rather reorienting my will to be His will, submitting my will to His.

I've been noticing this thing about 'wills' lately. Parents of toddlers have fresh object lessons ever before them but sometimes I forget how much my own will hates to be thwarted. When I insist that someone do something, anything, the way I see best, it's ME that is made miserable (or at the very least irritated) when that someone doesn't align their will with mine. Their 'obstinence' (really the exercise of their free will) thwarts my will. The result: conflict, agitation, unrest, (and maybe a spanking?!).

When I do this in prayer, the results are similar. 

But the instant I let go my insistence that the other person do what I want, there is relief. With a toddler of course a parent must win these wars. Between adults, and grown children,  and ultimately God,  the outcome is less predictable. Will I surrender or insist? With surrender comes relief. The mounting stress is gone! I don't have to be in control. Maybe I do know what's best for the other person, and then again, maybe I don't. My perspective is so limited, so short term. Either way, letting go the need to control is such a relief.

I’m wanting to find this relief in the way that I pray. When my greatest desires seem thwarted, the outcomes not my ideals, can I just cast them in God’s lap and let Him determine what’s best? What might He want in this situation?  Am I willing to hand my messes over to Him and trust Him with the long term possibilities to work in all things for His Kingdom purposes and His own greatest glory? I gravitate to Cinderella stories—with their happily-ever-after endings. Life seldom dishes such out, at least not till seen through the lens of eternity. 

But we are told to pray, to cast cares, to trust and to seek God’s Kingdom above any agendas of our own, His Kingdom and His righteousness.

There may be a lot of humble floor-scrubbing before the prince comes to redeem His own. But it will have been worth the wait.  In the meantime we pray: Thy will be done on earth, in our lives, in our families, in our communities, in our world.  And we present ourselves, His subjects to do His bidding, and to leave the results to Him. 

“Then the seventh angel blew his trumpet, and there were loud voices in heaven, saying, “The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever.” And the twenty-four elders who sit on their thrones before God fell on their faces and worshiped God,  saying, “We give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty, who is and who was, for you have taken your great power and begun to reign.” Rev.11:15-17

--LS

The title of this post comes from a  sermon transcript by John Piper that so ‘hit the spot’ for me—the concept that casting our cares on God is an act requiring and exhibiting humility, the prerequisite for being care-free.  Interesting premise drawn from I Peter 5.  Have a look and/or a listen here:

http://www.desiringgod.org/resource-library/sermons/are-you-humble-enough-to-be-care-free

He makes the bitter things sweet

I had forgotten, or maybe never even noticed…I sat transfixed one morning  this week by words in an old journal, a little book dedicated to recording moments in the life of my last-born child…

It was ten years ago this week that she had prayed after me a prayer asking that she might go to Heaven.  She had been frighteningly sick.  There had been nightmares.  Her big sister had prompted her to think of Hell—it’s real, and it’s not a nice place to end up.  And she had come to me days later to ask how she could be assured of Heaven…

Funny, I had not remembered the association of these events. (She had never told me of her big sister’s words until this very morning as we read ‘her’ book together.)  I had remembered the scary seizure, the slow coming back to us, the tangible relief in the household that night: “It’s so good to hear Rachel’s voice again!”.  I had resented this traumatic interlude in our lives.  That I did remember.  But now, reading that only days later she had come meekly to ask the way to Heaven; this connection I had not seen.

How gracious God is to take the bitter things and make them sweet—to use them for good, and to do so even when we are not grateful.  I had feared for this child. She was born a stubborn one—two weeks overdue and then despite being delivered in the comfort of our own home  bawling for all she was worth and not easily comforted. She was prone to fits of temper from a young age so that  I recognized long before she turned two that I had more than met my match.  This dogged will outstripped mine.  She was persistent. I easily cowed. 

But too, she was always the enthusiast shaker and mover among us.  She made things happen.  She insisted I try drawing an oversized Paddington bear so we could play “Pin the pocket on Paddington” for her birthday.  I had no idea I could recreate such a thing.  She brought it out of me and I marveled.

.

What was this child to become?  I used to wonder.  I read an entry tonight in her little book, where I was marveling at this one’s ability to bring herself under control—to determine a change of mind and carry it out by sheer will to do so.  “I’m being brave” she said and her demeanor in the face of pain was transformed from hysterical pain avoidance to a resolute calm.
“Wow”,  I had written, ‘this will of yours, directed toward doing God’s will, will be a great asset for you.  The difficult part is channeling it for good and not as an occasion for the flesh—yelling, protesting, fussing, complaining and such.” Then came a prayer: “May the Lord so mold your heart and strengthen us to be consistent and firm, so that you will grow to set your face as flint to do His will alone!”

And all the while, by His good Spirit, God was at work---molding that will, using the bitter things to bring sweetness. She’s just pulling into the driveway now; I better wrap this up. Where have the years flown?  My eye lights on this entry shortly before her 6th birthday and I quote: “Mom, after I grow up—and leave home—and organize my home—after a day or two I’m going to come over and visit you.” And there I had sat meditating on Psalm 90, reflecting on the remaining years I would have her, aware even then how short the years would be…

The entry ended with: “It won’t be long and you’ll be off and flying”. Ah, how true.  Today we filled out her application for Bible School. I’m grateful tonight for the years, for the grace and for the bitter things God makes sweet.

--LS

“So teach us to number our days, That we may gain a heart of wisdom…

Let thy work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory unto their children. And let the beauty of the LORD our God be upon us: and establish thou the work of our hands upon us; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it.” Ps.90:12,16-17

A Good Place to be after all…

What mother of us has not felt as Moses surely felt standing before the burning bush…here I am barefoot, standing before you Lord.  You are saying you have a job for me to do?  I am chosen particularly for it…and yet, this job?  Who is sufficient for these things?  I am unqualified, overwhelmed, undone at the thought of it.  Yet, called, chosen, and out of options.  You are God.  I am your clay pot formed for your purposes…

You’d think that now, nearing the end of this phase of my career, I would see things differently…but I am also a homeschooling mother, and the finishing of highschool has never been easy.  There is no formula. Each child is different.  How is one ever ‘finished’ and ‘ready’ to be released into life on their own—in the big wide world where there is no mother at hand to come to the rescue…How does one really prepare a child for that?  And if it’s done poorly, whose fault is it? And who will suffer?

Never were these words so poignant as they are this week sounding in my ears: “Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it.” Ps.127:1  Unless the Lord is involved in the construction, it’s wood, hay and stubble that will burn, not a lasting product.  (I Cor.3:13,14) It’s a waste of time and energy, in other words.  What matters is what the Lord empowers, what He does in and through us, what He builds in us.

David knew this when he commissioned his son, Solomon, to build the temple he himself had not had the privilege of building. The task was not to be David’s but that didn’t stop him from gathering materials and doing all he could to encourage his son for the daunting task: "Now, my son, the LORD be with you that you may be successful, and build the house of the LORD your God just as He has spoken concerning you. Only, may the LORD give you discretion and understanding…that you may keep [His] law. Then you will prosper…Be strong and courageous.  Fear not; do not be dismayed.” I Chr.22:12,13

Maybe that’s the main thing any of us do as parents—we gather the stuff for the building of the next generation.  We point them to the Chief Architect and urge them to love the Lord their God with all their hearts and always to consult Him in everything.  Maybe that’s all this crisis is about for me—a reminder that the Lord is the One with the blueprint and only He can complete this work He’s laid out for me to participate it. 

Crisis is often invitation to run to the One who is what I’m not, the great “I AM” who mentored Moses.  The great I AM  who led him through the wilderness with a stiff-necked people in tow that tried even the patience of God with their grumbling obstinence!   This One Moses was continuously crying out to: "What shall I do to this people?”! ^Ex.17:4

Who would Moses have been without this assignment that left him so constantly in need of wisdom and desperate for intervention?  Would he have resorted to the Tent of Meeting so often—meeting with God as with a best Confidant so that his face shown in the afterglow?  Would he have been so intent on knowing God and having Him near, always?  And would he have experienced the glory of God—his mercy and grace, His slowness to anger, His steadfast love and faithfulness… (Ex.33:18ff) had he not been given this assignment to shepherd God’s children?

My own heart is calmed and softened as I ponder these things.  I am turned back to gratitude for this trust I have been given of shepherding some of God’s own children.  For I too am thereby made dependent on God’s mercies and compelled to know Him more and so reflect His glory. I too am dependent on the One who is all that I am not, and though I stand here nonplussed and barefoot, it is, after all,  a very good place to be.

--LS 

"Now therefore, I pray You, if I have found favor in Your sight, let me know Your ways that I may know You, so that I may find favor in Your sight. Consider too, that this nation is Your people. And He said, ‘My presence shall go with you, and I will give you rest.’" Ex.33:13,14

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. II Cor.12:9

Then David said to his son Solomon, "Be strong and courageous, and act; do not fear nor be dismayed, for the LORD God, my God, is with you. He will not fail you nor forsake you until all the work for the service of the house of the LORD is finished.” I Chr.28:20

God’s Extraordinary Favor

"If you cannot train your children to do as they ought it is far better to lower your standards and enjoy them as they are than to allow your looks of displeasure to become the norm. A kid may grow up to be undisciplined and self-willed, but there is no reason to add to it a feeling of being unloved and unable to please."

These words arrested my attention earlier this week as I grazed through an article entitled: "Six Ways Parents Destroy Their Children Without Trying." * They fell under point #3: Expressing displeasure regularly. Ah yes, familiar theme. I stand guilty as charged.  This has been a hard lesson for me to learn. My children bear its marks.

Loving our kids, we naturally want them to be good. When they are not, we frown. They try harder, we expect great things. They prove to be human, flawed, and they fall short. If we are still frowning and goading them on mercilessly, relationship suffers and eventually the ones not cut out to be goody-goodies give up trying, feeling like failures themselves and steeling themselves to further condemnation as best they can. Loving fellowship of parent and child is lost. What has gone wrong?

The paragraph goes on to remind that: "…child training is causing the child to want to please you and be like you. They will want to please you only when they find pleasure in your presence." This rings true to me, and I commend to you the rest of the article  if you are yet rearing young under your roof, but I'm considering another angle, namely how our parenting flaws reflect our own misunderstandings of God's favor toward us.

How do we see God as parenting us? If we perceive Him as having a frowning countenance toward us, his children, exasperated at our constant need to be reminded of house rules, disappointed by our ineptness, tired of waiting for us to act more mature….then what? How fast will we be to run to Him when we need Him most, to treasure time alone with Him, to be eager to do whatever He says? Do we view God as regularly displeased or never quite satisfied with our conduct, whether it be things we do or things we have failed to do? Are we forever 'falling short' in our own estimations and concluding this is how God sees us too? Or do we see Him as a Father who loves us so extravagantly that there's nothing we can do (or not do) to alter His favor toward us and His enjoyment of us as His dearly loved children!

Is favor with God something we must earn/covet/work up a great desperation for? Is He really holding us at arms' length until we 'get it right', become better witnesses, do more, love better, live more consistently victorious lives, or just plain get desperate enough? And what does God really want from us?

If these are not myths you've labored under or questions you've had, be thankful! You need read no further. But if like me you struggle to believe that all the favor you could ever have is already yours in Christ, then read on and with me be glad it's never too late to be transformed by the extraordinary reality of God's favor.

As I read Scripture I see that while we were yet His enemies God extended a peace offering (Rom.5:10), not contingent on our doing anything but saying 'Yes' to Him. "Yes", I need You. I need mercy. I need grace. I need the sacrifice of Your Son who took my guilt and died to pay for it, so that the righteous requirements of the Law could at last be fully met in me!” (Rom.8:4) On the basis of His Son I am henceforth (and yes, I love those old words!) looked on with favor, exceedingly great favor, the favor with which God looks at Jesus! It is incredible, imaginable only in fairy tales perhaps, but nonetheless true. We have found favor with God; no striving needed. No kicking ourselves into greater service, greater devotion, greater passion. He cannot love us more. We can not earn, finagle, or wrest greater favor from Him than we already have in Christ.

Really, think about it, if there was nothing we could do to bring ourselves into relationship with God in the first place except to respond to His overtures, then why do we think that somehow now we must become high-achievers if we are to keep that favor? It's not based on our efforts; it never was. How could there be any greater favor to work for than that which we have because of Jesus?

And yet, I like the idea of 'being good', of meriting favor and I look for examples…How about Mary? The angel came to her and said 'you have found favor with God' (Lk.1:30) What had she done? We have no record. What did she have to do next? Nothing; just believe and wait for the Spirit to impregnate her to carry out her Father's bidding… Favor is God's prerogative, not ours.

And I think of Noah, a righteous man in his generation. He found favor in the eyes of the Lord. How's that? Well, the text says He walked with God. (Gen. 6:8) What does that mean? It brings to mind the verse: "Can two walk together, except they be agreed?" Amos 3:3 Or as Jim is known to say: “Friends agree". And I think this is the answer to that other question, What then does God want of us? He wants us to agree with Him, about everything. This is faith. This is the root of repentance. This is what He wants of us, to walk with Him, enjoying His favor, hanging on His wisdom and saying, 'Yes, you're right.' He just wants relationship with us. He's done all the footwork. He's pleased.

For this reason there was that grand announcement 2000+ years ago:

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased" or alternately, "peace to men on whom his favor rests." (NIV) Luke 2:14 Well the News was for the joy of 'all the people' because at last the promised Savior had been born to them. But God's favor rests secure only for those who welcome this News. It is secured by faith.

Which brings me back to that thought on child training: "…child training is causing the child to want to please you and be like you. They will want to please you only when they find pleasure in your presence."

Am I finding pleasure in God's presence day-by-day-- living, breathing, meditating on His Word? Is walking with Him in obedience duty or delight? Am I eager to see His face? The answer to these questions has everything to do with my perception of His extraordinary favor. And the proof of comprehension will be in the reflection of His smiling face in my own!

--LS

 

“You will make known to me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; In Your right hand there are pleasures forever.” Ps.16:11

“He has shown you, O man, what is good; And what does the LORD require of you but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?” Micah 6:8

"For what the law could not do, in that it was weakened by the sinful nature, God did, sending His own son in the likeness of sinful man, and so He condemned sin in sinful man, that the righteous requirements of the Law might be fully met in us, who do not live according to the sinful nature but according to the Spirit." Rom.8:3,4

“Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” Eph.5:1,2

"…the LORD make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you" Numbers 6:25

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*Michael Pearl, No Greater Joy, Jan-Feb.2013, p.23. (Though I don’t agree with every opinion in this article, there are many pearls of wisdom! –LS)

Remembering and Restoring…

 

I slept in till eleven this morning.  No pitter pat of feet to hasten my waking.  I think I needed the little extra anyway.  The junior Skelton entourage left in the wee hours to make its way home today.  I lent a hand to the pulling on of little socks and shoes, the tucking into carseats with kisses of blessing and hushed goodbyes.  No tears; we were all too sleepy or too focused on catching ferries and double checking that favorite blankies, pillows and soothers were not left behind.  Then with a prayer of thanksgiving and petition for their safety and blessing the old van was off with a chirrup and whine into the early morning darkness…

Now the house wears that hollow emptiness of guests just gone, and despite the soothing cello and harp of Christmas medleys, it is all too clear that the festivities are over.  Today is for restoring life to the old quiet order.  It seems  already to be happening. There are no matchbox cars in sight, no stray tires even.  No blocks, or lego or coloring books.  No dollies, strollers, rattles or stuffies. 

Undoubtedly there will be remains—I’ve already found a little lost red T-shirt from last night’s last laundry…and I spy a miniature plastic ‘popcan’ that rolled away to hide amongst the woodstove’s implements…And there are the memories of our being all together again, but all grown up and with babies in tow. It was a rare delight never to be relived.  For babies grow, and downy cheeks turn to stubble.  Baby coos to deep-throated conversation. “Can I have a cookie please” morphs into  an adult avoidance of calories. 

So for this morning, this quiet interlude awash in remembering and restoring, I am glad for the time spent last night making play dough and real bread dough together.  Never mind that the salt was forgotten in the real thing and we shall have to suffer through a couple loaves of very flat bread.  The pink and the blue dough got their share of salt, and play…  I’m glad of the sticky hands stuck in the real thing that had to be washed and washed to get un-‘stuck’, until little shirts were wet and had to be taken off and thrown in the laundry, letting little half-clad people run around screaming for sheer delight… They had fun at Grandmom and Grandad’s house. That’s what matters.  And they know that they are loved.

And I think they tasted morsels not just of goodies but of grace.  There was the night I had to slip out to take out the trash or some such thing.  No sooner had I gone, then looking in the sliding glass door I saw a chair had been pushed up to a desktop and little fingers worked to pry sweets from a forbidden tree.  Oh the shock and shame of being caught red-handed. He knew he must not touch this tree.  There were dozens of other treats and candies and cookies for the asking.  Why must he go for this one? It was the Eden story all over again.  We had read it together in his new Bible Story book just that morning, how Eve had taken fruit from the forbidden tree and shared it with Adam and been turned out of the garden.

Standing in the doorway I reminded him of it now.  He remembered the storyline: the tree, the ‘apple’, the sadness.  Now he was reliving it.  What’s to be done for this longing for the forbidden which proves to ‘taste yucky’ in the end anyway? It proves us to be sinners all.  But I at the door, checked my words of shaming remembering there is grace too. And would he like to have a candy from another tree when Grandmom finishes her chore?  It’s his for the asking. 

Christmas is about the joy of a Saviour being provided for our reconciliation to God, about a re-opening of the Way to the Tree of Life. And this Grandmom is glad.  It would be only a matter of time till I crumbled and gave in to my own temptations spewing ‘madness’ on my progeny.  I too would need to be forgiven and offered a sweet from the Tree of Life.  Grandmom too would be caught red-handed but forgiven.  “Sorry”s and hugs all around—for this is grace and I am glad for it as I sit remembering and restoring my soul…

Wishing you and yours richest blessings and restorative grace this fast receding holiday season…

--LS

What's a Grandmom to do?

Not sure that I know, certainly don’t have a formula,  but I'm finding out as I go. This week it's meant…

…being on call: to wash and band-aid a bleeding foot, to teach little legs to climb down a ladder backwards, to tuck a waking little boy back in his bed, to wake up promptly with a smile, and yes, to cuddle up and read a book…

…being in the yard: collecting fallen apples, manning the swings, picking plump yellow pear tomatoes, being the refuge from the sprinkler, taking pictures of little people in their playhouse.

…being in the kitchen: making bread together, cutting and peeling apples for applesauce, and apple bread, and apple crisp, stirring strong and licking spoons, fixing chicken, and brownies for dessert…

…teaching first notes on the piano: "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star"--singing and playing together.

…holding an awestruck baby as he listens and wonders in his brand-new world.

…taking a walk to get a slushie and play at the park.

The job description is endless. What does it take to be a Grandma? For now it means being here to answer when the call comes: "Grandmom?"

And as I write a little voice carries up the stairs, freshly returning from a walk with mommy and daddy:

"Where's Grandmom?"

Here I am. Gotta go!

--LS

(Please pardon this abbreviated post; this 'Grandmom' stuff has definitely limited my capacity for ponderings this week! So much else to do and to be. )

Indebted to Grace

The older I get the more of a 'Calvinist' I become—the more grateful for the sovereign grace of God. As my energy and idealism mellow with age, I look back at the first fifty years and see a trail of grace I may have once mistaken for the product of my energies. All the really good things, the key decisions, the best choices, the surprising and rewarding trails I've traveled have been God's doings. I only followed His lead. Where is there room for boasting, about anything?! This role I play in life, it's all a gift, His calling, my privilege.

How did I get to be a Grandmom? A mother? A wife? A child of God? How did I get to be born?! I can look back and see the choices I've made but the stringing together of opportunities to make them, this I could not do. And where did the propensity come from to make them one way or another? I could not know that in saying 'yes' to one thing, I would be saying 'no' to a host of other things and getting myself into a whole 'nother set of things… And God only knows how much I have to be grateful for. I've only scratched the surface of seeing things as I ought. And that too is grace…

O to grace how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be…

What of the hidden hazards that could have tripped me up given my naivety and yes, my self-will? These are only visible in retrospect, some of them anyway. A hidden Hand graciously spared me the trauma they would have caused. I see these things when I look back. I am a Grandmom now, entrusted with carefree little people who blithely trundle down the road of life as though it were a safe place. They hold my hand and expect that all will be well. They have few fears, little knowledge of what could happen. They just trust and take first steps… and sometimes their sin-bent wills say 'no' and try to do things their own way. Here too they need a hand to guide them into the way of right-eousness… and as I'm learning they are too: It's always best to say "Yes" to the one who knows what's best and sees beyond my small horizons… and to trust Him to lead me in  paths of righteousness, for HIS name's sake.

I am reminded of an old Sunday School song: "I will sing of the mercies of the Lord forever". The fitting response to grace is gratitude. The more of grace I recognize, the more grace-filled I will be—not just at meal-time when we 'say grace'! All of life is by His grace. In all of life God is worthy of my effusive gratitude, whether I recognize His mercies at any given moment or not.

The alternative is to focus my will to strive for God's favor, to beg for 'blessings' (like a child for lollipops at dinnertime), to pout when He says 'no', and to scheme of ways to 'ambush' Him into giving me my 'due' as though He owed me something for all my efforts. Children in grocery stores do it all the time. The 'children of Israel' in the desert did it too. They whined and fussed and demanded to be fed what they wanted when they wanted it. They were not grateful. They failed to trust in their Father's care… they did not know His ways and so they missed His very best for them. Failing to learn the fear of God coupled with the love of God they were destined to die in the desert.

And as I shepherd my grandbabies along city streets, training them to walk on sidewalks and look both ways before they cross…reminding them not to demand but to say 'please' and 'thank-you' and wait patiently…and most of all grinning and smiling and applauding their antics, loving and playing, pushing the swing and making play dough together…I give them a hint of the fear of God and the love of God. His discipline and His favor, hand in hand, which I pray will shepherd them all their lives long. And I rest in His Sovereign grace that has been lavish in my life and will be just as sufficient for theirs. Oh to grace how great a debtor daily we all are constrained to be!

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.

{Listen here as Chris Rice sings it.}

--LS

Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ: By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Rom.5:1,2

Beyond Personality—Who I am, was and will be…

--some thoughts on 'self' for children of the King—

In an era shaped by much ado about self, the Christian ideal of 'death to self' sounds harshly inappropriate if not wrong! What could it mean? Are we not made in the image of God, creatures with great creative potential, dearly loved and desired? Of course we know there was 'the Fall' marring that Grand Design but then there was also the Cross whereby a way of redemption was bought and now all those who have been 'united with Christ in His death' (Rom.6:5,6) are said to be new creations, alive to God, and empowered by His Spirit to walk in the good deeds prepared for them in the foreknowledge of the Creator… So what to think of 'self'? If my destiny is to be Christlike, do I still get to be 'me'? Is 'self' something to shun or to celebrate?

On the one hand there are many things that could be affirmed to be true of me as a new creation in Christ. There are lists of such affirmations, mostly beginning with "I am…"  I am accepted. I am secure. I am significant. I am free. And under each of these is an array of Scriptures to prove their validity. (This has been done in a lovely Calligraphic form here.)

But as a friend pointed out, shouldn't we be a little wary of the emphasis? Is it so important who I am? Shouldn't my focus be on who He is, i.e. the Great I AM! All these things may be true of me, but only because of Him. Apart from Him I am in fact unacceptable, insecure, insignificant and in bondage to sin, even if self-help programs buoy me up to believe otherwise! Is it me I need to celebrate or Him?

Another friend rightly comes to the defense of self as the essence of all that makes me unique, the very gift of God to me, not the enemy, but the canvas on which God paints His glory! She rejoices in God's design, trusting Christ to do the alterations as needed, celebrating life in the meantime. What do I say to that? Am I so wary of 'self' getting a foothold on my affections that I cast a wary eye at all my comforts and little joys rather than enjoying them with gratitude? Can I celebrate the 'me' I am on the way to becoming the 'me' I shall be when I see my Saviour face to face? Do I dare?

These are thoughts I've been casting about in my mind this week. I don't have all the answers. I suspect it is a matter in part of defining what one means by 'self'. Am I called to despise all that makes me uniquely me, the 'fearfully and wonderfully made' creation knit together in my mother's womb and then shaped by training, circumstance, and destiny under the guidance of God's sovereign Hand. I think not. Who is the clay to say to the Potter, 'why have you made me this way'?! (Rom.9:20) Am I called to submit all that I am-- the 'good', the 'bad' and the 'maybe someday', to God for His pleasure and pruning. Yes, that too.

I've been lapping up C.S. Lewis lucid thinking in "Beyond Personality" (Part IV of Mere Christianity). In a chapter titled: "Is Christianity Hard or Easy?" He differentiates between the 'natural self' and the person we become in giving over our whole selves with all their wishes and precautions to Christ for Him to fill and transform. Lewis says it will do no good to insist on being 'ourselves', intent on our personal happiness on the one hand while striving to be 'good' on the other. We are called to perfection and only Christ can do that in us as we lay aside self's insistence on its own thoughts and listen for His. There is at once the seeming hardship of 'Take up your Cross and follow Me' and the promised ease: 'My yoke is easy, and my burden light.'

Lewis pictures it this way. Trying to be good while yet 'ourselves' is like an egg trying to fly! "It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. [Ha! Can you picture it?!] We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad….this is the whole of Christianity." (169) He comments elsewhere: Christ came not 'to torment your natural self but to KILL IT!' (167)

Now I realize Lewis is primarily speaking here of the self before we have surrendered to Christ, but I do wonder whether there is relevance still to us as believers. Do we not tend to lapse back into 'trying to be good', striving to do 'good works', working hard to 'be pleasing' in our own steam? Unwittingly appealing to the energy of our old self in an effort to be new selves! I know I do. The Galatians did too: "Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?" (Gal.3:3) It seems to me 'self' is always at the ready to step up to the plate and try for a 'home run' that will redirect God's glory to self. Even as I am 'in Christ' I find my 'natural self' is not silent. I need these reminders to surrender everything I am and am not to Christ. So I continue with Lewis' thoughts on self:

'The more we get what we call 'ourselves' out of the way and let Him take us over, the more truly ourselves we become.' (189)

He says that all we are intended to be is 'waiting for us in Him'. And we need never fear a boring uniformity of personality in being 'like Christ' anymore than Light makes all thing appear identical or Salt makes all foods taste alike! (188-89) Lewis brings out the idea that no matter how many 'little Christs' (as he calls the believer being conformed to Christ's image) there may be, it will still be too few to express Christ fully. (189) I like this idea. It reminds me of the Body imagery of Ephesians 4. Each of us is an integral part, necessarily unique, to the completion of the Body of Christ. In this respect the proper functioning of each 'self' is crucial to the whole. Seeing myself in relation to the Body also draws me away from hyper-focusing on 'who I am'. I can't determine this in isolation anymore than a Nose put away in a box can determine its worth or role in life. It is needed by the Body and only connected with it will it become all it is meant to be!

The alternative is to try to 'be myself' without Jesus. Ironically, as C.S. Lewis suggests, 'The more I resist Him and try to live on my own, the more I become dominated by my own heredity and upbringing and surroundings and natural desires. In fact what I so proudly call "Myself" becomes merely the meeting place for trains of events which I never started and which I cannot stop. What I call "My wishes" become merely the desires thrown up by my physical organism or pumped into me by other men's thoughts or even suggested to me by devils…I am not, in my natural state, nearly so much of a person as I like to believe: most of what I call 'me' can be very easily explained. It is when I turn to Christ, when I give myself up to His Personality, that I first begin to have a real personality of my own.' (189)

So perhaps this is the place to get out the party hats, call together our friends and celebrate what Christ has done in each of us!

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But, if you don't mind, before the party I offer this overview of my understanding of the Bible's teaching on:
WHO I AM, WHO I WAS, and WHO I WILL BE…

By Design
I'm created in the image of God—designed for fellowship with Him! This makes me distinct from the animals, possessing not only a body but a spirit and soul designed for communication with others and with God. Because of this design I have ability to create, not from nothing as God did, but from the grist of God's creation—inspired by its beauty, supplied with its materials…Because of this design, I have inherent value apart from anything I am able or not able to accomplish. This 'fearful and wonderful' design (Ps.139) is what makes the unborn child, the demented adult and the severely incapacitated individual of equal value with the most beautiful, intelligent, or otherwise capable person. Our value is inherent, not earned. [Contrary to popular cultural thought and practice]

By the Fall
The image of God in man was marred. The spirit was pronounced dead and the body doomed to join it. I was made the enemy of God. Fellowship was severed and impossible to fix without intervention by Someone other than myself. How did it happen? The most beautiful and talented angel wanted to usurp God's position. He was not content to be a creature, but insisted on being recognized, glorified and worshiped. His fall precipitated our own when he tempted our ancestors to trust their own instincts instead of God's words, with the lie being that they too could be like God, running their own lives. I was born a rebel intent on being the center of my universe.

By Redemption
The Father still seeks worshipers, still wants fellowship, still has our best interests on His heart. So He gave us Jesus to take on our human form—to sample our situation and taste of our estrangement and ultimately to suffer the death we rightfully had coming so that we could be restored to fellowship with the Father. He invites us to know His ways and do life His way. In fact He offers to be our life. By His Spirit I am made alive to God, a new creation. The fellowship is restored and the image of Christ in me is being recreated by His Spirit as I behold Jesus. C.S. Lewis refers to our transformation this way: "This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." (140)  In one way redemption is a done deal. I have been redeemed and given a new nature, my sins forgiven, my pardon signed. And yet I still live in a body bound for the grave. My complete redemption is yet future…

By Resurrection/Adoption
I am one who has been bought with a price and called therefore to 'glorify God in my body' (I Cor.6:20) This I do imperfectly for my body houses a nature at odds with my 'new man'. Though rendered powerless it cries out to be served. But one day my body too will die and with it this old self. I will be fitted with a new resurrection body untainted by sin. When this mortal puts on immortality I will not only be with the Lord forever but will perfectly reflect His image. This is my great hope and the hope toward which all creation looks—the revealing of the 'sons of God' (Rom. 8:21) and the summing up of all things in Christ (Eph.1:10) That will be glory!

Let the party begin!

--LS 

‘Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.’ I Jn.3:2

For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago. Eph.2:10NLT

In Him also we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to His purpose who works all things after the counsel of His will, to the end that we who were the first to hope in Christ would be to the praise of His glory... Eph.1:11,12

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Quotations taken from Mere Christianity by C.S.Lewis. MacMillan Publ, 1960, 190pp.

My Last-born Treasure

Well, it's been quite a week…may have started with a sag in hormones, but a bunch of things conspired to exacerbate the situation… Being the time of year that homeschoolers assess what's been accomplished (and what's been missed) in terms of academics, I was in this mode well before Rachel requested to see Micah's old writings. Oh boy. That was like opening a kettle of fish.

You see, Micah, our firstborn, was a prophet in his day. His portfolio, tucked carefully away in my closet, holds candid exposés of life as he experienced and perceived it in the Skelton household. The hurts and injustices, inconsistencies and hypocrisy are skillfully outlined in the form of essays and plays, written too accurately to miss or brush aside. There I am in all my glory (not!) trying to manage a household of jostling students who also happened to be my flesh and blood and bear my imperfections… The age comes when one's offspring are more apt to 'rise up and call you blessed' but this was not that age. The assessment I got was honest. And convicting. God's arrow to arrest us in our steps and help us to begin adding grace to the running of our household. But change takes time…Micah left the nest with his own custom baggage. This is not easy to face as a Mom, who wants only to live to bless her children, to love them well, to prepare them for their futures with good things… But the kettle was opened.

Add to this the feelings of nostalgia and regret that inevitably accompany digging through old school books. I had a phone call from a younger homeschool mom in the midst of this, asking for advice and recommendations and I was having a little dig-about to see what I could share… So many books we've waded through together. So many good memories. And always, so much left undone.

This would all be manageable if it were all history, but the writing of our history is not yet complete. You see, Rachel has yet one more critical year of school to finish, and I am VERY aware of this fact given the time of year we are at…Just a few more weeks of this year and then just o-n-e m-o-r-e y-e-a-r in which to teach her all she needs to know before we wave goodbye and she flies off to Bible school…Talk about pressure. And all these good books, so much potential learning, so much to cover, so much to think about…How are we gonna do it?! Too much to bear.

And then came Monday morning at breakfast over our customary Monday-cream-of-wheat. Rachel hadn't yet joined us. I opened my mouth to put in words the pressure I was feeling and the restless night and tortured waking thoughts, and well, the dam broke…I took my toast and tea and retreated to unload my heart...

'To you, O Lord, I call
my rock, be not deaf to me,
lest, if you be silent to me,
I become like those who go down to the pit.

Hear the voice of my pleas for mercy,
When I cry to you for help,
When I lift up my hands
Toward your most holy sanctuary…' Ps.28:1,2

And this is where Rachel found me when she popped her head in to ask what to do with my cold bowl of cream of wheat! Weird, seeing Mom with a blanket over her head all curled up in a ball…praying… for Rachel, for us, for the years locusts have nibbled on, for mercy, for forgiveness, for strength and wisdom, for HELP!

To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul…let me not be put to shame; Indeed none who wait for you shall be put to shame (Ps.25:1-3)

"Who is the man who fears the LORD? Him will he instruct in the way that he should choose. His soul shall abide in well-being, and his offspring shall inherit the land…" Ps.25:12,13

Praying for Rachel. My fearfully and wonderfully made last-born—this delightful child that undoes any sense of competence that I may have gained with the previous five children…delightfully herself, and so very different than her mother in many ways. She is my dreamer, a visionary that can see teddy bears as potential companions for orphans or old folks if I could just help her get an Organization rolling…She dances along with visions of sugarplums --the potential of all that could be, while I, pre-occupied with the fine print, run into barricades! She composes fiction like it’s the most natural thing in the world while I labor to ferret out facts and put them in order. She doodles in bears of every describable pose and occupation, while I look for models to painstakingly copy. We are different.

She loves to be celebrated; I prefer to be inconspicuous. She thrives on anticipation of 'exciting' things to come; I on the rhythm of the commonplace. And she knows how to SMILE and to HUG and to quiver with delight! "Are you excited Mom?!!" How many times have I tried to explain that excitement throws me off balance. I'm happy in a quiet way. I try not to look too far ahead, on purpose, so that today's business is not sabotaged with the emotional energy of anticipation… Makes no sense to a dreamer. So here we are in my 'old age' trying to figure each other out. Daily companions. Teacher and student. Mother and daughter. Improbable friends for a season of my life that might otherwise be bland and predictable…

And into this difficult day comes an essay by Rachel, inspired by her brother's of yesteryear perhaps… to be read aloud to Mom… You should know that Rachel's been reading Our Town, the play by Thornton Wilder. Do you know it? It's an extraordinary piece studied by generations of high schoolers for its unusually ordinary theme—the preciousness of everyday life. There is no particular plot. It takes place in a little-known small town where generations have lived and married and died without fanfare. And it poignantly reminds the reader how precious is each moment and detail of ordinary life. Sometimes only in the loss of a thing, or of life itself do we realize what we have had…

“Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover's Corners... Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking... and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths...and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you.”

"Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it -- every, every minute?” ( from Our Town, Thornton Wilder)

So given that backdrop, here's Rachel to read me her daily piece of writing…

"As she walks out with her teddy bear tucked beneath her arm—the last thing in the house she had found hiding in the closet, she pauses at her room, remembering… [a host of words followed that evoked the return of my tears] …She's leaving this place, leaving for college. Her child-ness is gone. She's grown up. She smiles at her teddy bear."

Oh my! I escape to vent my tears only to hear a knock at the door instead and here's that young mom in need of some good books and homeschooling advice! Oh my! What treasure I've been entrusted with. It can't be time to wave the flag of surrender. Still there is a task at hand. Still a treasure to enjoy, and experience to share.

"Wait for the Lord; be strong and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord…(Ps.27:14)

"Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame." (Ps.25:3)

The week began like that. But one and another little thing have lifted my perspective back to waiting in anticipation of how God will see us through. One sweet conversation was part of that. Rachel shared with me her 'take' on how to be happy, no matter what comes… She watches morning by morning as we swallow our 'happy pills' (Vitamin D). She'll have none of it, just laughs that it's a mere placebo effect that makes us think we've braved the gloomy winter months on account of Vitamin D. Not her. At the start of 2011, she says, she decided she was going to be happy, no matter what the weather. And she has done it. Every morning she comes down to breakfast smartly dressed in her new 'business style' skirts and tops, her hair neatly put up in a girlish swirl. She eats, clears dishes and gets right to her school work. You wouldn't know she doesn't enjoy school. She just gets down to it. 'If you always wish for the weekends you'll waste your life just wishing for them,' she says. The same goes for the days that look 'fierce and scary'… you don't have to worry about them till they come. "I believe Grace will come when you most need it, not now just worrying about it." And she compared it to not needing the ticket for the plane a year ahead, only when it's actually time to board…

I wished I had recorded her words, just got the snatches she wrote down later. But there was something she said about smiling (she's always smiling!). She said something to the effect that 'I just go through the day thinking that everyone is smiling at me'! Well if that won't make a person happy! I think there's something to that. Maybe everyone's not smiling, but the One who matters most of all IS smiling when He watches us. That is something to live by! And maybe I'll learn to smile through my days yet with this Treasure under my roof. Bless you Rachel. You are God's gift to me!

There were other things that lifted my spirits…a vigorous tandem ride, getting out to weed the garden, taking time to paint and draw, reading Words of encouragement, the advice and loan of books by a friend, repenting, and putting action to good intention…but I will close with the words of a hymn that filled my thoughts one morning and turned my heart from hesitant 'unworthiness' to joy. It goes like this:

Arise, my soul, arise! Shake off thy guilty fears;
The bleeding Sacrifice In my behalf appears.
Before the throne my Surety stands; My name is written on His hands…

He ever lives above, For me to intercede;
His all redeeming love, His precious blood to plead;
His blood atoned for all our race, And sprinkles now the throne of grace…

[I had been reading Leviticus 10 and thereabouts. What a graphic picture is this laying one's hand on the head of the animal that is to be killed because of your sin, and then having its blood splashed on the altar. So serious, this sin. 'without shedding of blood there is no remission' of it!]

Five bleeding wounds He bears, Received on Calvary;
They pour effectual prayers, They strongly plead for me;
"Forgive him, O forgive," they cry, "Nor let that ransomed sinner die!"

The Father hears Him pray, His dear Anointed One;
He cannot turn away The presence of his Son;
His Spirit answers to the blood, And tells me I am born of God…

My God is reconciled, His pardoning voice I hear;
He owns me for His child, I can no longer fear;
With confidence I know draw nigh, And "Father, Abba, Father" cry…

If you haven't heard Twila Paris' rendition of this on her Sanctuary CD, don't miss it. Jim has posted it here.

May its message haunt you with hope as it has me!

"Blessed be the LORD! For He has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy.
The LORD is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped;  My heart exults,  And with my song I give thanks to Him." (Ps.28:6,7)

--LS