DISAPPOINTMENTS – PART 2

Should we accept only good things from the hand of God and never anything bad? Job 2:10 (NLT)

I have just experienced a profound disappointment – not something that will alter my life forever – but it has been, nevertheless a great disappointment. I’ve worked on a project for almost nine months and have anticipated its fulfillment only to find that at this point I can no longer be involved.

For nine months I worked with great joy. I researched. I made new friends and acquaintances. I studied and learned so much, and in the final moments, I have discovered that this really good thing has been denied me.  I am Moses looking across at the Promised Land but being denied entrance.

Just like you in times of distress, I have prayed; I have remembered and quoted favorite scripture promises; and I have trusted. As the culmination of the work was getting nearer, the intensity of my prayers (like yours) has increased. And yet, it has become increasingly clear that I was an instrument for planting and watering; others would reap the harvest.

A few days prior to our final group meeting on this project, I read Job 2:10 (above), and it spoke to me. Sometimes God says no even to good things, and accepting his closed doors is as important to our discipleship as rejoicing in his yes-es. Peace has accompanied me, and I am joyful in knowing that there are those who will perform this ministry faithfully, and I may some day participate in the results of their labor. Do I still feel a bit wistful about not finishing with my team? Absolutely. But I trust God’s wisdom and know his plans for me are always good. And I know that this disappointment is nothing compared to the numberless times and blessings that have already come my way.

I once heard someone say, “Disappointment is God’s appointment.” I accept this appointment and stand on tiptoes to see what he will do next.

Father, bless my team who will proceed without me. I pray that you will do through them more than any of us can think or ask. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.

STOIC OR SPIRIT-FILLED?

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. II Corinthians 4:7

Stoicism is defined as the quality or behavior of a person who accepts what happens without complaining or showing emotion. The Greek stoics were probably best remembered for teaching the development of self-control and resilience as a means of overcoming destructive emotions. Today, we describe these people as having stiff upper lips.

And yet God “knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust.” (Psalm 103:14 ESV) There’s a vast chasm between stoicism and Spirit-infused discipline which acknowledges total and absolute reliance on God. One is self-initiated, and the other is dependent on our accessing God’s strength through obedience. After all, God knows our make-up. He created us from clay with the very intent of showcasing his power through us.

We find ourselves amazed at the remarkable activities and ministries that proceed from us as we recognize whose power is flowing through such an unlikely instrument. Instead of being discouraged or disillusioned at our inabilities or failures, we humbly hand over those limitations and request that the same power that raised Jesus from the dead would work through us (Romans 8:11) in transforming grace.

We can either experience “white-knuckle” religion (a version of stoicism) or allow God’s power to flow in and through us as we walk through our world.

Father, our culture encourages us to be agents of change, but we quickly run out of energy and power when are dependent on ourselves. We desperately need your infilling in these clay vessels. We invite your presence now. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.

RECONCILIATION

Therefore if you are presenting your offering at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and present your offering. Matthew 5:23, 24

Walking with Jesus is not for sissies. Nor is it for narcissists. Jesus calls us to crucifixion and requires that we take his demands seriously. In this Matthew passage he asks us to immediately stop our worship of him if there’s an issue with someone else. We have to be the ones taking the initiative to make peace in a circumstance in which we possibly had no control. It really seems unfair.

I once heard a preacher say that God tasks the person who has the most faith with the responsibility of being the peacemaker. Simply put, God is the one who looks into our hearts and instantly recognizes whether or not Jesus is Lord there. He recalls how malleable we have been in his hands and how amenable we are to trusting his ways. And then he calls us to dealing with unfairness, with misinterpretation, and even with wrongs that we may have unknowingly provoked.

God looks in our hearts and knows if we are willing to obey without counting the cost in humiliation or misunderstanding. He knows that taking up the cross and dying to the flesh can only be done by one who walks with him and who knows how to access his measureless grace. And God requires that sort of sacrifice from the one who wants to grow in him.

My mom once told me of a quarrel that she’d had with my dad. Apparently, they were in the car going somewhere – she couldn’t recall where they were going or what the disagreement involved, but she remembered the tension. She said she was prompted to reach over and give my dad a mint, but she resisted. Again, the prompting came, and again she resisted. Finally, she took a gulp of grace and reached across the seat to offer the mint. The tension was broken; the atmosphere was changed. But she had to make the first move.

Father, help us to trust you to give us what we need in our daily relationships with those around us. Give us grace to be peacemakers even when we think we are without fault. Remind us that you are constantly reaching out to us to draw us to yourself, even when we least deserve it. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.

Generosity

Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Luke 6:38 (NIV)

As a former primary school teacher, I am fascinated by the thinking processes of children and how unspoiled they can be. They tend to be uncomplicated in their world view and pure in their logic.

Having a passel of grandchildren, I love to observe and share with their parents the intuitive understandings that I glean from these young prodigies. Take William, for instance. He has been working with his dad on his miniature car for the Cub Scout derby race. Chris and William have selected and carved out the design, gotten just the right wheels, added weights to balance the machine, and checked to make sure all the results of their hard work meet the specifications.

In the middle of this intense activity, William was visiting with me and asked if he could type a note to his friend – yes, I still have a typewriter, which continues to fascinate my grandchildren. I set William up with paper and helped him align it on the antique equipment, and he began to write. “Dear David, We need to make a play date. I hope you win the derby.” With all his efforts, seven-year-old William was wishing his friend would win.

And there was the morning at children’s church. To teach the children to give, an offering is taken, and each child puts in his small gift. At offering time, William remembered that his dad had forgotten to give him some change. He was expressing his annoyance to his seat mate who was quick to relieve his frustration. “Don’t worry, William. My dad gave me a dollar.” And with that he proceeded to tear his dollar in two and gave one-half to William.

That’s what children are like. That’s generosity.

Father, we are told to become like little children. Help us to free ourselves from the selfishness that makes us hold onto our desires, our things, our time, and all the things that keep us from being like Jesus who gave his all. AMEN.

SAM IN GOLI

…a little child shall lead them. Isaiah 11:6

I was assigned to serve in Uganda for about seven months. For years, Grandson Sam had accompanied me to work in a church community center, so it wasn’t unusual for him to accept my invitation to spend the summer in Goli. Sam was about to turn eighteen, and I’d gotten a placement for him in the village clinic with Sister Kim.

That summer Sam worked in the tiny lab peering at slides of native bacteria and local diseases, learning more than he would have from a text. He worked in the pharmacy dispensing drugs, and he accompanied doctors on their routes around the district and watched them perform surgeries. (He even picked up some of the local “bugs” on his visits.)

The business director of the diocese was a regular morning visitor in our little cinder block house and loved to share our hot tea and chapatti (local flat bread). When Rev. Martin discovered that Sam played an unusual instrument, a violin, he asked if he would play for Sunday service in the cathedral. Sam was thrilled and practiced a lovely Beethoven selection. He was already a local favorite, so when everyone learned that he would be playing a “western” instrument for church, there was great anticipation. That Sunday, the music stand was set up, Sam tuned his instrument, and began to play. Not a sound was heard other than the beautiful notes from Sam’s gifted fingers. And then the giggling began to ripple through the congregation. No one had ever heard such an instrument. Sam played on and on and finally ended to great applause and laughter.

Sam’s popularity grew, and he was often assaulted by the children who loved to pull him into their games. He hung out with the bishop’s children, and they all became fast friends. When he came down with malaria, despite taking his preventive meds and lathering himself with Deet, the whole diocesan compound was alarmed. Malaria was not something muzungus handled well. Sam was confined to his bed with fever, weakness, and all the dangerous symptoms brought about by the bite of an Anopheles mosquito. Nurses from the clinic came to treat him, and Sister Kim directed her cook to make special broths for Sam. Villagers made enquiries about him. But two of my Ugandan friends did even more. Evaline and Esther sat up all night praying for him. No fanfare. No big deal. They prayed until they sensed Sam would get better. No one was surprised when he made a full recovery.

The time passed too quickly as we worked throughout the warm days and read to each other late into the night. One day we sat together in our little cinder block house sharing a companionable meal in silence. The doors were left open to catch any passing breeze, and our dogs and an occasional goat wandered in and out. I had given up on teaching our sweet cook how to prepare some of our familiar dishes, so we learned to take advantage of the fresh fruits and vegetables growing all around us.

In the middle of this idyllic situation, Sam spoke up. “Grandma, these people have nothing.” I waited. “But they’re happy,” Sam added. I had to agree. Did Sam recognize that the faith they had was worth more than any material blessing we Westerners value so much? “I’m so happy,” Sam went on. “I’m glad I’ve learned this at my age.”

How soon that summer was gone, and Sam left, taking with him the treasures he had gathered in Goli.

Father, you told us a little child would lead us. Sam saw and lived with God’s joy evidenced through the lives and love of our Goli friends. May he never forget, and may we always cherish those eternal things that can never be taken away. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.

LENT OR NOT

Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me. Revelation 3:20 (KJV)

Growing up, Lent was never part of our church tradition, but last year I became very interested in the opportunity to specifically focus on the meaning of Christ’s passion during the Easter season and began my own observation of Lent. It was such an enriching experience that I’ve decided to engage again, so I’ve done a bit of research.

“Lent” comes from an old English word meaning “spring” and is the 40 days prior to Easter. Typically, it’s a time of penitence and can include fasting, prayer, and almsgiving (charitable gifts). It is also a time of self-denial. I love the idea of “spring,” a time for spiritual renewal and refreshing in Christ.

I think for years I rejected the thought of observing Lent because it seemed to me to be an effort by practitioners to merit God’s favor, something that only comes through his grace. But last year as I contemplated my own practice of Lent, I gained a whole different perspective.

Why not grasp Lent as an occasion of thanksgiving for all God’s faithful blessings, I wondered. So I moved into the season skipping as many meals as practical (some might call it fasting), which gave me additional time for prayer and reading of spiritual material. As I pursued study, meditation, and prayer, Lent became a gift rather than a burden. Additional study brought new insights and with that came joy. Prayer brought to mind needs I’d never contemplated along with hearts that longed for divine intervention and ministry. A greater sense of God’s presence became part of my daily experience to the point that I hated to see the approach of Easter, which signals the end of Lent. But, of course, Easter always brings its own joy as we celebrate a risen and ascended Lord who now inhabits the lives of all believers.

I have been looking forward to Lent for months now. Instead of seeing it as denial of myself, I view it as opportunity to move more closer into God’s presence. If you’ve never tried Lent – no matter your church tradition – may I encourage you to prayerfully consider taking advantage of this little space on the church calendar to draw nearer to Jesus. I think you’ll be glad you did. (I’d love to hear about your experience.)

Father, how blessed we are that we can fellowship with you and that you want to share the joy of your presence. Welcome now and forever. AMEN.

HELLO, GOLI

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)
I was sitting in my living room with my mom and pastor. We were completing the arrangements for my husband’s memorial service. I’d selected Scripture passages, hymns, and friends to read. There was one final thing that was most significant to me.

“I want my friend Debbie who’s chair of the University music department to sing I Know That My Redeemer Liveth from Messiah. It’s a beautiful statement of faith, and I know Peter would have liked it,” I told Momo and my pastor. With that settled, my pastor prepared to leave.

And then Helen came in. “Marthe, the bishop has a conflict for our upcoming trip to Uganda, and he’d like to know if you can go?”

Without pausing for breath, Momo said, “She can go.” Just like that. Without asking me or without thinking twice. And that’s how I made my first diocesan mission trip.

Goli, our mission base, is a beautiful little village stuck off in a remote corner of northwestern Uganda. One does not accidentally arrive in Goli. It is too far off the beaten track. Standing on Prayer Mountain and looking north, the mountains of Sudan are visible. Looking west, the jungles of Congo are within a few short miles. The Nile is not far from Goli and offered protection from the Lord’s Resistance Army in past years.

On that first visit I noticed that electricity hadn’t yet reached this remote outpost nor had indoor plumbing. Most of the floors were dirt, and the houses had beautifully thatched roofs. Community buildings were constructed of cinder block with concrete floors. Although the people of Goli lived far below the international standard of poverty, they were some of the richest people I had ever met.

Our small team of six traveled up and down the Nebbi Diocese for three weeks over red dirt roads pitted with holes large enough to swallow small animals or do serious damage to vehicles. We saw school children in lively memory verse contests, spoke at countless village churches, conducted Bible studies, visited women’s groups, met local missionaries, and made friends.

The Sunday before we left was Easter. It was not lost on me that my first Easter without Peter found me on the mission field among scores of new friends who loved Jesus as much as we did. After the first service at the village “cathedral” the Korean missionary, Sister Kim, invited us to brunch at her house. We stood in a circle, holding hands for the blessing. As soon as we finished, Sister Kim reached over to a shelf and pushed the button on a battery-powered tape recorder. Out of the small plastic machine rolled the words, “I know that my redeemer liveth…”

Coincidence? British composition on a recorder played by a Korean missionary in a modest unelectrified home for American missioners in a tiny African village. Hardly a coincidence. Instantly, I knew God had a plan for me, to give me, a newly minted widow, a future and a hope. What the future held, I had no idea, but I knew God was already there opening the door. Peter’s death was not the end of my life. One era had ended; a new one through Christ had begun.

Hello, Goli.

Sweet Lord, you do walk with us through the valley of the shadow to take us through to the other side. And I know that your plans are beyond anything we can think of or imagine. THANK YOU. AMEN.

JESUS IN THE MIRROR

…we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. I John 3:2 (NIV)
“Every day I look in the mirror to see if I see Jesus there,” remarked my friend Lynne. We were talking about what we’re doing to become more like Jesus. In the course of the conversation, Lynne mentioned some of her personal disciplines and how she is trying to intentionally follow Jesus.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about Lynne’s comment. Years ago I placed myself in God’s hands when I put my faith in Jesus and committed my life to him. But I am wondering what I should be seeing when I “look in the mirror,” searching for Jesus.

Jesus said he always did those things that pleased his Father (John 8:29). Am I intentionally, eyes-wide-open, looking to do those things that please God? To paraphrase Hannah Whitall Smith, Am I loving God’s will?

Jesus said he came to fulfill the Law and not to abolish it (Matthew 5:17). Then he went on to give us those passages we call the Beatitudes (those attitudes that should be part of our intrinsic nature as his children). Am I seeking to obey him in all things and live out the Beatitudes, even when doing so would be uncomfortable or inconvenient?

Jesus said he would ask the Father to send the Holy Spirit who would teach and remind us of all things that he told us (John 14:26) and that the Holy Spirit would counsel us and convict us of sin (John 16:8). Am I staying filled with his Spirit so that I follow his direction and resist sin in my life? Is his Spirit producing fruit in my life—that supernatural love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, and self control (Galatians 5:22, 23)?

There are so many descriptors of Jesus’ incarnational life on earth. Will I ever be like him? And then I am reminded of Paul’s wonderful word to the church at Corinth: “And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” (II Corinthians 3:18 NIV) It is God who is working in us to make us like Jesus (Philippians 2:13). All we have to do is trust, obey, and let him work.

And so, as I think, ponder, and reflect on “the Lord’s glory,” as I center my thoughts and my life on him, I, too, will be changed into his likeness and, with Lynne, will see more and more Jesus when I look into the mirror.

What’s in your mirror?

Dear Lord, thank you for this wonderful encouragement that as we cooperate with you, you are making us more and more like Jesus. THANK YOU. AMEN.

MORE LITTLE THINGS

For God speaks in one way, and in two… Job 33:14 (ESV)

I am convinced that God is communicating all the time; we don’t always have our receivers turned on or we don’t perceive the message as coming from him.

Do you remember Tolstoy’s story of Martin Avdeitch who dreamed Jesus would appear to him the following day? The next morning Martin saw Stepanich shoveling snow and invited him in for a warm drink and told him about Jesus. Later, he saw a young woman with a baby shivering in the cold. He brought them in, gave them clothes, food, and money and told them about Jesus. Then he saw a boy stealing from an old lady. He settled their argument and gave love and compassion to them both.

That night as Martin grieved because God had not visited him as expected, the people he had helped appeared to him. That’s when he realized that God had indeed been present with him. He just hadn’t recognized him in his various shapes.

This weekend I was working in another city and discovered I had inadvertently left my pajamas at home. My team and I made a side trip to the local WalMart where I grabbed and paid for a colorful set of nightclothes with writing all over them. It was not until I was folding them later that I read the message, “All is well.”

Today would have been my mother’s ninety-first birthday. Every time I visited with her during her last year, she proclaimed to me, “All is well.” Thanks, Momo, for reminding me that our Father still reigns, and he still speaks.

Lord, open our ears, our eyes, our hearts to receive you however you wish to make yourself known. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.