When God Says, "Go Back There"

Imagine the scene, if you will.

Your name is Avram, perhaps, or something similar.  You're a middle-aged Hebrew wanderer, finally getting ready to enter the Promised Land.

All of your life you've heard about this land.  You've stared longingly across the forbidding Jordan at its verdant beauty...so far out of reach of your desert abode.

You've heard of your parents' rebellion against the Lord, which stopped your national progress and doomed you to decades of wandering.  You've heard about the miracles they saw, but you were so young when they happened that you don't remember them yourself.

You have experienced daily miracles yourself:  A pillar of cloud by day, a pillar of fire by night, each of which guides your nation in its wanderings.  You've seen bread fall from Heaven every day, without fail, except of course for the Sabbath...but the bread always fell in double portions on the day before the Sabbath, so you could gather extra then.

But these miracles have always been there, as far as you're concerned.  They're kind-of humdrum to you.

Now Moses, the great Man of God, has died, and Joshua is in charge.  And the 40-year exile has reached its end.  It's time to enter the Land of Promise.  That means, for starters, that it's time to do battle with the mighty city of Jericho.

But the even mightier Jordan River lies between, and to make matters worse, it's currently in its flood stage.

Were the old stories of the Parting of the Red Sea really true?

Could it happen again, even without Moses?

You're almost ashamed to admit how amazed you are when it does happen again.  Your jaw drops at the sight of the turgid wall of water piling itself up.  That wall is trembling with unimaginable power, held back only by forces you cannot see or comprehend.

And you have to walk in front of it...you and a few million others.  Including your wife and your children.  You look at them now, so weak and vulnerable next to the forces that threaten them.

And you have to lead your whole tribe, because you've inherited (and risen to) a position of power in that tribe.  So, you square your shoulders, hide your fear from your wife and kids, and step onto the now dry river bed.

The water-wall beside you seems like a raging stallion, eager to break out of its restraints.  And yet you walk.  Your mouth is dry, and you hope the Almighty can forgive your fear.

He promised, and He's done this sort of thing before.  We will get safely through.  We will.

And, finally, you do.  You turn to look back at the hordes which are still coming, and at the priests who stand along the way as God's representatives, almost seeming to hold back the walls themselves (but you know they're not the ones who can do that).  There they stand, though, and you don't envy them.  You couldn't get through that trial fast enough.  It was a creepy place to be, and you're glad you came through it in one piece.

Finally, the last of the nation has crossed, except for the priests, who still stand their ground.  And then Joshua calls all of the tribal leaders together.  You go to him, expecting your orders to advance toward Jericho.

But no.

He says, "Go back."

What?

"Go back."

Go back into the danger zone, back into the place that so recently filled you with awe and fear, back into the trial you thought you were done with.

You can't believe your ears.  Why would we do that?

"This is what the Lord has commanded.  Go back into the heart of the Jordan and gather stones, one stone for each tribe, and bring them back to set them up as a memorial for future generations, so no one will forget what happened here."

You don't argue.  This is, after all, the man whose word had just parted the waters.  You don't play at dueling words with such a man.

So, you and eleven other men walk back into the place you just escaped from.  You feel even more vulnerable now, in such a small company of men. Just the other tribal leaders and, of course, the priests at their posts.

You don't rush.  You can't.  You know your job.  You've seen stone memorials before, and you've appreciated the skill that it takes to build one that will stand for generations to come.  You recognize that you have to get a rock that is not only very large and heavy, but also one that is suitably shaped for its purpose.

You have to spend a fair amount of time finding a good candidate, conferring with the other rock-gatherers until you all agree that the twelve stones you've found will work well together.

And all the while, the Jordan quivers against its restraints.

You hadn't wanted to be here once, and you still can't believe you're here again.

Why aren't we invading Jericho?  That's what we came across to do, right?  Why are we wasting time back here?

But finally, bending under your heavy load, you trudge back to where your family and tribe and nation await. You make eye contact with each priest as you pass him, and you nod.  His burden is greater than yours, and you know it.

At last you're back with your tribe, and you can drop your heavy burden on the ground.  You straighten up with some difficulty, and for some reason you can't stop yourself from looking back at the Jordan yet again.

I made it through.  Not once, but twice.  

And God held the water back each time.

You look back down at the stone you've carried. It's good that we have these stones.  It's good that our people will always remember.

And now, amazingly, you're glad that you were one of the few who had the privilege of walking that road again.

#####

Has God ever made you revisit a scary place that you thought you were through with?

Maybe it was a real, physical journey.  Or maybe it was a journey of remembrance, a journey of telling others, of setting up your own memorial.

What was that like for you?

Could it be that you're still standing on the banks, afraid to step in again?

If you've been called to revisit the painful place, please look again.  What...or rather whom do you see?

There is not a row of priests there, like there was in the Jordan.

No, there's something better. Someone better.  The Great High Priest.  Jesus.  The One who held back the waters the first time, saying "This far, and no further."  He is still holding the ground you gained.  He's also on the shore beside you, and also at the Jericho that awaits.

And He knows, dear brother or sister, that you can better face your Jericho if you remember your Jordan.  If you revisit His faithful deliverance through it.  If you look Him in the eye and nod as you bring back your memorial stones.

Do it.

Trust Him.

He's still there.

And finally, a word to those of you still in the middle of your first scary trek.  Those of you who can't even imagine getting through the first time, much less coming back for a stone.  My word for you is this:  Don't worry that you don't have a heavy stone on your shoulder right now.  The command to fetch it hasn't come yet.  It won't come until you're safely through.

Please don't hear this harshly.  Please hear it as gently as I mean to speak it.  You're not qualified to set up a memorial yet.  It's not that you have to prove your qualifications...oh no!  Your trials are never about you proving yourself to God, or even to yourself.  Your trials are about seeing God holding the waters back. Your trials are about seeing God's power and His deliverance.  So if you haven't yet seen the salvation of the Lord, how can you talk about it?

If you have no memorial stone with you yet, just keep walking and trusting Him.  The day will come when you'll be able to come back and get one.

And you'll be glad you did.

For Those Who Can't Walk on Water Either

Sarah Trimmer (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

"Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?"

Was Jesus rebuking Peter for lacking the faith to keep walking on the water?

That's the way I've always heard it, but now I wonder.

You see, I've had a life full of sinkings.  So many sinkings that I rarely get out of the boat.  And I'm less likely to get out of it if I think that my next drubbing will be rebuked by Jesus because... terrible failure that I am... I can't do the impossible.

Is the Christian life a process of learning to walk on the water?

I wonder.

Years ago I wrote something that I knew I needed to read again this morning.  (I hope you'll read it too, and I'll link to it so you can.)  I said,  "What if 'arrival' has nothing to do with reaching a certain level of perfection, and everything to do with maintaining the kind of humble, childlike faith that expects nothing from itself and relies totally on God?"

I really believe that that's true.  Please do read the article I linked to above, for more reasons WHY I believe it.

Whole sermons have been written about Peter's lack of faith causing him to sink.  Because of that mindset, people strive to grow stronger faith, and when they're faced with stormy seas or risky situations, they can only see two options.

• Proudly step out, believing their faith to be mighty enough
• Stay in the boat, believing that they haven't yet achieved a strong enough faith.

What if neither of those options are right?  What if the "proudly stepping out" is just that...religious pride rather than true faith in Christ? And what if the "staying in the boat" is a sign of spiritual failure?  What if both are wrong, and neither is right?

UGH!  Before long you can start running in circles like a terrified rabbit, and you give up on this "faith thing" because it just drives you nuts.  You can't do it.  You can't figure out which is right!  You can't figure out your own motives!  You can't see any way to step out in faith or to stay in faith, because you can see sin in yourself either way.  So you get paralyzed.  

To that I say (both to you and to myself):

STOP IT!

Right now, just STOP IT!

Jesus didn't say to any of the disciples, "Why did you stay in the boat?"  And I don't believe he said to Peter, "Why did you sink?"

For what doubt did Jesus rebuke Peter?

Will He rebuke you, too, if you step out of your safe place, and you start to sink?

No, that's not my Jesus.  More importantly, that's not the Biblical Jesus...the Jesus who is tender towards the weakest, the lowliest, the most helpless.  He does not break the bruised reed (Matt 12:20).

There are several accounts in the Bible of Jesus saving the disciples from stormy seas.  In the one we've been looking at, Jesus walked on the water to the boat, and Peter walked out to meet him.  In another case, Jesus was asleep in the boat, and they came and woke him up.  In both cases, they were terrified.

And in both cases, the rebuke was the same.  "Why did you doubt?  Where is your faith?"

Maybe we've been asking the wrong question.  Maybe the question isn't, "Why did Peter sink?"

What if the right question is, "Why did Peter fear that Jesus wouldn't save him when he sank?"

Remember, in both stormy situations, for the disciples both in and out of the boat, the question was the same. The gentle, loving rebuke was the same.  "Why did you doubt?"

Why do you and I doubt that He will save us when we are sinking?  Why are we making "in vs. out of the boat" the issue?  Why are we making "on top of the water vs. going under the water" the issue?

Are we to fear, in either location?

Was half-dunked Peter filled with less faith than the ones in the boat?  I don't think so.  All of them were afraid of going under, regardless of where they were when it happened.

Joyful, free faith doesn't have to examine its own perfection to see whether it should get out of the boat or stay there.  It doesn't say, "I'm disqualified from getting out of the boat, because I can spot sin remaining in myself and in my motives." It doesn't say, "Oh no, my sinking must mean that my faith wasn't strong enough!"

Joyful, free faith trusts Jesus no matter where we feel the water threatening to overwhelm us, even though we're not yet perfected, because HE is our Savior.

Why must we keep relearning that HE saves us?  Why do we keep thinking that we save ourselves by making our faith perfect enough, instead of believing that He saves people of little faith?

He is the Savior...not of the perfected, but of sinners (Luke 5:31-32)!  Why do we doubt?  He who saves those in the boat, will he not save those who walk out on the water and then start to sink?

Where are you in your walk?  Does Jesus want you to believe that you could be anywhere, anywhere where He cannot save you?

The life of faith is not a life of staying always on top of the waves.  It's a life of believing that you are free to walk with Him in humble-but-imperfect ways, without doubting that His love will pull you out of the water no matter where you are when you start to sink.

Because you WILL sink sometimes.  I guarantee it.  Life's billows WILL overwhelm you.

Cancer.  Loss of a loved one.  Betrayal.  Failure.  Injury.  Job loss.  Moving to an unfamiliar place.

You WILL sink sometimes.

The question from Jesus, I believe, is not, "Why did you sink?"

It is, "Why did you fear I would not be here to lift you up when you sank?"

So step out if you feel that's what God is calling you to do.  Don't question if you have enough faith to stay on the water.  Just believe that He will save you when you get wet.

And here's a final word of love to those who are currently under the waves, and have been there, perhaps, for a long time.  I am NOT preaching a despicable "prosperity gospel" (which I hate) here.  I am not saying that Jesus will always take the waves away.  His salvation is sometimes through the trials, not from the trials. Your pain does not mean He loves you less, or that you are a failure.  Trust Him, trust Him, that He will pull you out of the water when the time is right, when that part of your life's story has been written to perfection (even if that relief doesn't come in this lifetime).  Trust that He is your Savior, no matter where you are in relation to the boat, the water, or the other disciples. He will bring you to the right place because of your continued, trusting obedience.  Remember, as long as we're on this earth, it's a Christian walk, not a Christian arrival.

Trust Him, trust Him, trust Him, wherever you are, no matter how far you've gone under life's overwhelming forces.

That's a stronger faith than one which skips lightly across the waves.

On Fear, Anger, and Loving our Neighbor

http://www.sxc.hu/photo/872737

Fear is infuriating.  I hate it.

Nothing makes me angrier.

I don't want to live with you if I'm afraid of you.  I don't want to live in your neighborhood, or in your country.

I cannot love you if I fear you.  To the extent that I fear you, I can only hate you.  Any love I may be able to muster will stop at the boundary of fear and go no further.

Jesus has commanded me to love my neighbor, even if he's my enemy.  If I cannot love what I fear, then I have to work on my fear, don't I?

Jesus, in fact, commanded me to do just that.

“I tell you, my friends, 

do not fear those who kill the body,

and after that have nothing more that they can do.  

Luke 12:4 (ESV)

"Do not fear."  It is the most frequently written command in all of Scripture.  

And yet, at the same time, those same Scriptures never whitewash the horrific effects of sin and the damage it can do.  At no time does He say, "Do not fear, because they're really not so bad."  Look again at how He defines those whom we are not to fear in the verse above.

"Those who kill the body."  

He doesn't say, "Don't worry, they won't really kill you."  They will.  At least in some situations, they will.  So why and how are we not to fear them?

The first and most obvious answer to "Why" is, of course, the reason found in the end of the verse above.  "...and after that have nothing more that they can do."  They can only touch our bodies, not our souls.  But that's not our focus here.

The first and most obvious answer to "How" is also not the one I'm going to focus on, though I will tell you that it's based on the verse that follows the one above.

But I will warn you whom to fear:

fear him who, after he has killed,

has authority to cast into hell.

Yes, I tell you, fear him!

Luke 12:5 (ESV)

As I said, I'm not going to focus on that reason.  But suffice it to say, a proper fear of God can help deliver us from the fear of lesser things.

My goal here is also not to focus on deliverance from fear as an end in itself.  We all want to be free from fear, and there's nothing particularly praiseworthy about that fact. We've all seen fearless jerks who don't mind standing bravely and screaming their hatred with an attitude of, "I ain't afraid of you, cause you're gonna burn in hell, you scum!"  I trust that that's not who you want to be.

What I want is to be delivered from fear, to love.  And the verse that pushed this whole train of thought out of the depot this morning was this one:

For what shall it profit a man,

if he shall gain the whole world,

and lose his own soul?  

Luke 9:25

Few things scare me more than the sight of an "enemy victory."  I suspect that most Christians are the same way, because I see that fear propelling a lot of words and actions right now.  "They" look poised to win, and frankly, any honest assessment of the times can see that "they" will.  They will get what they want, and we will lose something precious, and things will never be the same.

And not only are we not to fear, but we are to love.  

If we say we believe in Jesus, then we'd better be straight on this.  No arguments.  Yes, hate the sin.  Yes, acknowledge all of the verses that speak of God's holy hatred, and those that speak of a believer's natural hatred.  But don't let any of those confuse you with regard to what Christ has clearly commanded you to do.

But I say to you,

Love your enemies

and pray for those who persecute you

Matthew 5:44 (ESV)

Even when they're "winning."  

In fact, if we're tempted to hate "them" more when they're winning, then we've proven that we don't even know what victory is.

Why?  Because there is no real victory outside of the Gospel of Christ.  It is through His death, burial, and resurrection on our behalf that we have our only victory over sin and death.  And those are the only victories that ultimately matter.

For what shall it profit a man,

if he shall gain the whole world,

and lose his own soul?  

Luke 9:25

We fear our enemies' temporary victories because we fear suffering, we fear having to live with the evil that we loathe, and we fear how a culture that worships evil will drag many souls to ultimate doom.  All perfectly understandable fears.

But darkness has never been able to extinguish light.  In fact, a tiny candle that will be unnoticeable in a bright room will look like a veritable star in a dark one.  If God has seen fit to withdraw His hand a bit and allow sin to flourish, it is so that sin may reveal its true ugliness, and so that His people may shine more brightly.  He's not losing here, folks.  Not at all.  Even if "they win."

If we are with Him, we cannot lose.  We know that, but what do we do with it?  Do we hold up a big "L" with our fingers over our foreheads and cop an attitude toward "Them," gloating that they're losers?  If so, we're losers too, because we've walked away from the Savior who loves His enemies and died to save them.

Who died to save us.  When we were his enemies.

Our enemies are losing.  Losing terribly.  Not just in spite of their victories, but because of them.  They are gaining the world at the cost of their souls. 

So we must not hate or fear them because of their "victories."  We must love them as Christ did...with a willingness to suffer as we love them, serve them, and speak the Gospel to them so that they might be saved.

NOT so that they might go back in the closet.  NOT so that they might agree with us on the definition of marriage, or on our right to Free Speech and Freedom of Religion.  So that they might be saved!

No one ever got saved by being a heterosexual.  No one ever got saved by being an anything except a repentant, blood-bought believer in Jesus Christ.  

No one will ever become a repentant believer in Jesus Christ unless the church shows the saving love of Christ to them.  

And no one will believe in His saving love if they see His people's neighboring hate.

As one who knows the victory of His love, you are commanded to share it with your enemies.  And as one who is guaranteed to win no matter what happens to you, you are free to share it without fear.

Praying for "...But Not..."

It's been a long time since I've posted anything.  But it certainly hasn't been for lack of "interesting" events in my life!  In the past couple of months I've spent a great deal of time on bedrest, relying on the incredible generosity of my church and help from my family.  I've undergone tons of medical tests, taken lots of medications, received several new diagnoses, struggled with hopes delayed, engaged in wrestlings with God, and seen answers to prayers that I had never even been wise enough to pray.  (Must have been other believers and Jesus who made those requests on my behalf, I'm sure.)

Finally, just over a week ago (on Nov 29, 2011), I had the major surgery I needed.  Thanks be to God, I am already feeling better than I have felt for months, and am on the road to what will probably be better overall health than I've had in more than a decade!  I'm still relying on the generosity of others for help, but I'm now cleared to lift up to 8-10 lbs, so I can do many more things.

In some ways it's been tough, but I wouldn't trade this time for anything.  God has been SO present, and SO sweet!  I have learned so much about rest, about trust, about submission, about gratitude...but mostly about the precious sovereign love of God for me in Christ.  Thank Him along with me, will you?

 A little while ago I read "A Praying Life" by Paul Miller, and it changed the way I pray for myself, my family, my neighborhood, my church, missionaries, and the world.  The book helped me see how to get to the root and pray about the heart of the issues in my life and sphere.  And boy, do I always need to deal with heart issues!

You see, I've always had a powerful avoidance ethic.  "If you can't control it, avoid it" was my unspoken motto for life, unseen and unquestioned as it guided me into disaster after disaster.  My prayer life largely focused on the desire to see pain relieved or prevented, even as I busily pursued the kind of selfishness that ate me up and made me useless.

But several months ago, when I was making up my new prayer card for myself, the Spirit brought one of my Scripture memory passages to mind.  (That's a powerful argument for memorizing Scripture!)  I made that passage part of my daily prayer for myself, and because it aligns with God's wise will, He is honoring it.

May I invite you along as I pray this passage?

"Lord, please free me from the urge to try to control everything, the belief that the avoidance of pain is the greatest good.  At the heart of them, my prayers used to always be, 'Don't let me be afflicted.  Don't let me be perplexed.  Don't let me be persecuted.  Don't let me be struck down.'  But that's not my prayer any more.  Now I ask that You would free me to be what Paul described: 'afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.' 

I say, 'Free me' to be these things, because that would be truly liberating.  I have been a slave to fear, held captive by avoidance, paralyzed by risk.  Please free me to love others in the way that You do...a way which is only possible if I'm willing to be hurt.  I can't triumph on my own, but through You I am 'more than a conqueror' (Rom. 8:37).  And what would this victory look like?  It would look like loving the Lord my God with all my heart and soul and mind and strength, and loving my neighbor as myself.  It would look like the end of self-centered self-protection, and the beginning of sacrificial love.  It would look like the end of regret over opportunities lost, and the birth of praise and joy over circumstances submitted to Your glory and the good of those I touch.

And then, Oh Lord, I pray that you would help me to understand, by experience, what Paul said next. Teach me what it means to be 'always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.'  How can it be that this, 'carrying of Jesus' death,' and this, 'manifesting of His life' is something that 'we who live' are 'always doing?'  I don't know, but I pray that you would make it true in my life so that I would be able to glorify You and serve my neighbor in that way."

I felt an immense burden lifted off of me the first time I prayed that, and since then the Lord has been faithfully helping me to pry my hands off the controls, to trust Him, to risk loving and being hurt.  I've got a long way to go, of course, but I love the path I'm on now!

How would your prayer life...your whole life...be changed if you regularly prayed for the "...but not..." of 2 Cor. 4:8-11?

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Photo by abcdz2000 from Stock Xchng

Drawing Conclusions in the Dark

Image by karlequin via Flickr

“We should never pass judgment in overwhelming hours. Let a man accept the verdict of his Lord, but never the verdict of his melancholy.

Hours come when everything seems wrong and when all the lights of heaven are blotted out, and how often, in such desolate hours, do we fall to judging the universe and God! It is part of the conduct of the instructed soul to resist that as a temptation of the devil. Such hours are always unreliable.

The things that frighten us in the night are the things we smile at in the morning. We are like that traveler who in the fog thought he saw a ghost; when it came nearer, he found it was a man; and when it came up to him, it was his brother.

Overwhelming times are times for leaning; God does not mean them to be times for judging. They are given to us for trusting; they are not given to us for summing up. Leave that till the darkness has departed and the dawn is on the hills, and in His light we see light again.”

G. H. Morrison (1866-1928)

 

Is the Fear of the Lord for Christians?

Image by Will Humes via Flickr

Someone on a forum recently posted the question, “Isn’t the fear of the Lord only for unbelievers? Why would a believer fear the Lord?”

That’s an excellent question, and it prompted me to write a fairly in-depth response. I figured I might as well share it here, too.

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Oh yes, the Fear of the Lord is for believers especially! There are such curses pronounced on those who have no fear of God, and conversely, such blessings given to those who DO fear Him, that there can be no question it's for those who believe. One of the main condemnations of the wicked is, "There is no fear of God before his eyes." (Ps. 36:1)

But there's a difference between the biblical "Fear of the Lord," and what most people think of as "fear." As I have taught my children, most things that we fear, we fear because they are bad or evil. But that's not the case with the fear of the Lord. We fear the Lord because He is good, and we are evil.

Also, with ungodly fear, the response is to run away. But with the godly fear of the Lord, the response is a humble repentance and the desire to draw closer to this mighty God. That’s because His perfect goodness is part of the perfection which so amazes and dismays our evil selves. "They shall fear the Lord and His goodness in the latter days" (Hos. 3:5). His perfection makes us see our imperfection clearly. The unbeliever will cover his eyes in hatred of that which interferes with his self-worship, and he will turn his back and walk away. But the believer will ask to be cleansed of that sin so he can enjoy God's wonderful perfections for himself.

How do we know this? Because of one of the oddest-sounding verses in the Bible. "If You, LORD, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand? But there is forgiveness with You, that You may be feared" (Psa 130:3-4).

How does His forgiveness make us able to fear Him? By making us able to stand before His magnificent perfection without covering our eyes, turning our backs, running away, and either hating Him or pretending He doesn't exist!

I had a very personal encounter with God in which my spirit was opened to perceive something of His holiness. I felt the fear of the Lord, and knew that I deserved to be destroyed by Him. And yet, I felt calmed and quieted in the midst of that. It was as if I could see my filthy soul in His holy hands, and my thought was, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him." I could perceive more than just His holiness. I perceived His omnipotence, and His mercy, and His love. And so, while I felt the fear of the Lord, I was drawn to Him. I did not wish to run away. My feeling was, "It's entirely up to You. I cannot save myself. If You destroyed me, I could not curse You for it, because You would be just in doing so. I await Your mercy, if You choose to give it."

And He gave it. He saved me, and it was an amazing thing. A humbling thing. That was the point at which everything in my life started to change.

First and foremost is the honor that I feel toward God. I am so grateful to know the fear of the Lord, even though I know it so imperfectly. It makes His mercy and grace so much richer and more meaningful...never something to be taken for granted (as so much of modern flippant Christianity does.)

It has been my experience that the fear of the Lord makes my love for Him richer and deeper.

Here is a quick study of some of the benefits and blessings promised to those who know the fear of the Lord, or that show how things like "rejoicing" and "intimacy with God" and the fear of the Lord go hand-in-hand (Just hover your mouse over the references to see the verses pop up):

Deut. 5:29

Deut. 6:24

Ps. 2:11

Ps. 25:12, Ps. 25:14

Ps. 31:19 (notice how fear and trust are combined in here!) Same with Ps. 115:11

Ps. 33:18 (fear and hope in mercy! Exactly what happened to me when I was converted!)

Ps. 34:7

Ps. 86:11 (fear of the Lord is something to desire and pray for!)

Ps. 103:11, Ps. 103:13, Ps. 103:17

Ps. 111:10

Ps. 112:1

Pr. 14:2, Pr. 14:26-27

Pr. 15:16, Pr. 15:33

Pr. 19:23

Pr. 22:4

Ec. 8:12

Ec. 12:13

Isa. 11:3 (delighting in the fear of the Lord! Wouldn't have made sense to me until I experienced it.)

Mal. 3:16-17

Mal. 4:2

Luke 1:50

Acts 9:31 (fear of the Lord goes along with peace, edification, and comfort!)

And here's some proof that the Fear of the Lord is still commanded in New Testament times:

2Co. 7:1

Eph. 5:21

Col. 3:22

Heb. 12:28

1 Pet. 1:17

1 Pet. 2:17

1 Pet. 3:15

I have a long way to grow in the fear of the Lord, but I'm grateful for what I do know of it, and I want more. It sounds counter-intuitive, but there really is joy and peace and comfort and strength in it. And just as a diamond shines best in front of a jeweller's black cloth, so God's mercy and grace shine more beautifully to those who fear Him.

For more insights into the wonderful complementary nature of the goodness and severity of God (Rom. 11:22), see “I Feel So Much Closer to God…”

The Aroma of Life to Life

Once she hid, alone
Guarding a dead husk,
Hoping it still lived.
Precious, it was,
And the only one
She would ever have.

Shriveled,
Wilted,
It did not respond
To her touch
Or anyone else's.
Deep inside she knew
It had no breath.
But if she admitted
That it had none,
Then she would have to admit
That neither did she.

You see
It was
Her soul.

It rattled, dryly scraping
In the slightest breeze
And she hoped those were sounds
Of life.
But the truth was a terror
Which haunted her dreams.

One more wound,
One more grief,
One more betrayal,
One more lie,
And the tiny spark of life
If there was one
Would surely ebb away.
She would become a zombie
The walking dead.

The image awakened her in a cold sweat
Night after night.

How can
A dead
Soul live?

She had no close friends.
Even her family
Was kept at bay
By her smiles which lied.
She was okay
Or at least she would be
If everyone would just
Leave her alone
To stare at her husk
And convince herself
That it lived.

People make demands.
They drain you.
I'd love to have something to give
But I only have this husk
And I will die without it.
Better to live here, alone
Than to let anyone take it from me.

A dead
Soul's better
Than none.

But there was an aroma
A scent
Which sometimes drifted into
Her loneliness
And when she smelled it
She wept
For joy.

But it didn't happen often.
What can dry husks savor?

Most of the time
Rage simmered
Against any and all
Who even dared to want
Much less need
Anything from her.

You're trying to kill me.
You will use me up
Until there's nothing left.

Then He came.

She knew He was behind
Everything that happened
In the universe He'd made.
So she hated Him
Most of all.

And yet
He brought
That scent

And on one dark night
He did the unthinkable.
He picked up the husk
And showed it to her
Forced her to see it
For what it was
For the very first time.

Ugly rot
Decaying stench
Lifeless corpse.

It lay in His hand.
A scarred hand.
And she knew she was helpless
Against Him.
He could close His fist
And it would be crushed
Forever.

And yet
Her fear
Met love.

Her gaze, for once
Forsook its idol
And moved upwards
To see His face.
Pounding heart
In mortal peril
Yet felt calmed.

Though He slay me
Yet will I trust Him.

How could
She feel
This way?

She knew before she looked.
The husk lived.
She lived.
The perfume infused a soul
Which once could not draw breath.

Every whiff I sensed before
Was a miracle from His hand
I should not have been able to smell it
But He knew I needed to.

All those years
When she had thought she was
The guardian of her soul
It had been Him
Him
All along.

Tender One
Living Water
Reviving Breath

She is safe.

Life still hurts.
But she has no more dreams
Of zombies.

Life still hurts.
But she no longer
Craves her solitude.
At least not all the time.

Life still hurts.
But life is sweet
Because she knows
How it feels to be
Without it.

Life still hurts.
But no one can take it from her
Because it rests in the hands
Of the One who will someday
Take all the hurt away.

Life still hurts.
But love grows
Where fear no longer reigns.
And it especially grows
When it senses that aroma
From the souls of others.

Precious, beloved others
Even those she's never met
Still move her heart because
They share His life.

Life still hurts.
But those who bear
His aroma
Touch her with it
And she knows
A foretaste
Of healing.

Even some of those who were
Her family by flesh and blood alone
Are now her family in the Spirit, too.
And there is joy
Even when there's heartache.

The perfume wafts
From petals crushed.
The Rose of Sharon
The Lilly of the Valley
For love's sake
Bruised for her.

For you.

Can you
Smell it
As well?

-------------------------------------

Copyright Betsy Markman, 2009

Where Did He Meet With You?

Image by Vilseskogen via Flickr
Some friends of mine have been walking through some fires lately.

For the past couple of days, the heat got turned up even hotter than usual.

Then Nebuchadnezzar was full of fury,
and...he spoke and commanded
that they heat the furnace
seven times more than it was usually heated.
(Dan 3:19)

The Biblical account doesn't tell us if Daniel's three friends, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego, felt fear as they defied the king's order and stood true to their God. I imagine they did. Surely the superheated furnace made the three men sweatingly, painfully hot before they even got near it. Each step provided an opportunity to repent of their righteousness, to plead for their lives at the cost of their souls.

My friends felt fear too. They had to sweat some. They struggled with all sorts of emotions. They're only human, and wouldn't want to be placed on any pedestals. They're real, normal, good, sinful, wonderful, flawed people.

People who chose to remain stubbornly true, even when their feelings couldn't catch up with their good intentions.

And in their fire, they met with God.

"Did we not cast three men bound
into the midst of the fire?
Look! I see four men loose,
walking in the midst of the fire;
and they are not hurt,
and the form of the fourth
is like the Son of God."
(Dan 3:24-25)

I know how it feels to find life's inferno transformed by His Presence. So did my friends, before this newest trial. But still, when new crises loom, the fear comes back, and the uncertainty, and the anger, and the pain. And yet, when we stay true to Him, He meets us there, and we come away knowing Him a little more, trusting Him more deeply, loving Him more truly.

Where did He meet with you this year? If your life has been like mine (and many others'), there have been times when He's met you on the mountaintop. But there have also been times, precious times, when He has met you in the furnace.

And tell me, haven't subsequent mountaintop experiences been all the sweeter for the heat they came through? Haven't your joys been more thankful, less selfish, less prideful, more pure?

Where did He meet with you this year?

Then Nebuchadnezzar went near the mouth
of the burning fiery furnace and spoke, saying,
"Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego,
servants of the Most High God,
come out, and come here."
Then Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego
came from the midst of the fire.
(Dan 3:26)

Don't you wish you knew what God had said to them in that fire? Wouldn't you love to know how it felt to be with Him like that?

And can you imagine how sweet their freedom, their very lives, felt to them afterwards? Can you picture them going home and answering the question, "How was your day?"

Imagine as they grew old, how often they thought of that day, how often others would have asked them to tell the story. What do you suppose they focused on when they told the tale?

• Their own bravery?
• How mean and unfair Nebuchadnezzar was?
• How hot the fire was?
• How the men who cast them into the fire were burned up at the entrance?
• How great it felt to get out, unhurt?

Sure, they probably thought about some of those things and talked about them (though I doubt they gave any prideful thoughts to their own courage. Something about meeting with the Almighty has a way of banishing such boasting.) But all those things would have come in at a very distant second place compared to the glory of meeting with The Holy One there. I imagine the old men stammering when they came to that part of the tale, perhaps falling silent as words failed them. But the glow in their eyes, the passion in their souls would have spoken for them. Their listeners would be left longing for such an experience of God themselves. And none would be foolish enough to ask if they had any regrets.

No one could doubt that God Himself was worth it.

Perhaps the reason why we aren't told of their flame-encircled conversation is that no words could suffice.

In fact, we know that even the most magnificent words cannot suffice. Look with me at the words which God Himself spoke in the last chapters of the book of Job (Chapters 38-41). Wonderful words that speak of God's incredible power and wisdom fill these pages. But as majestic as they are, you and I are still left wondering, "How could those words be enough? How could they satisfy a man who had lost everything?"

They couldn't. They didn't.

God could. He did.

Those words were precious, and I'm so glad they've been preserved for us from antiquity. But even Job himself said that it was not the words which made the difference for him.

"I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear,
but now my eye sees You.
Therefore I abhor myself,
and repent in dust and ashes."
(Job 42:5-6)

(Now, if such an outcome doesn't sound appealing to you, it's because you haven't yet tasted the sweetness that comes from such repentance, or from the new intimacy with God that results.)

Whatever Job experienced in that conversation with God, even the sacred text cannot fully express it. There are some things that are too profound for words. To know them, one must meet with God.

Where has God met with you this year?

Where will He meet with you next year?

2009 has many dark shadows on its brow. Do you fear them? Probably, at least a little. The furnace's heat can be felt from a distance.

If God has chosen a furnace for you, step in. I can't tell you how long you'll have to stay in there, or how badly it might hurt in your case. Not everyone comes out unscathed.

I can tell you that He will be worth it, if you meet Him there. And when you come out, there will be a new glow in your eyes, a new passion in your souls that will leave others longing to know God for themselves.

Seek Him. Meet with Him, no matter where He is when He offers the invitation. Let Him be your legacy for 2009.

Friday Fiction: The Church Dance

Friday Fiction

I wrote this a few years ago to describe the exhaustion, loneliness, pain, and longing of a life lived in fearful hiding...and the hope that was barely beginning to blossom at that point. I should note that the feelings recorded below weren't reserved for church. This was how I felt whenever I had to be around people and pretend I was okay. The part that was unique to church was the hope at the end of the poem...a hope which God is now fulfilling.

There's joy for me in reading this now, because going to church no longer feels like this to me. God is calming fear, building trust and love. I hope you will read this in a way that allows the pain to become real to you...because there are doubtless many people who feel this way...but also in a way that praises God for His deliverance.

The Church Dance

We can dance, you and I, but only for a little while.

It’s too hard being close to another person. You brush up against me, you see. If you do that too often, my smile might rub off.

Anyway, if we’re going to dance, then I have to lead. When others lead, I get hurt.

I only know one kind of dance. It’s called a Promenade. I walk out on the floor, I smile, I curtsy, I briefly hook arms with you, and then you’re supposed to pass me off to someone else. Only this is my promenade, so I don’t let you decide how long we linger together. I remove your arm from mine, and if I do it skillfully you’ll think it was your idea.

Smile, greet, laugh, twirl, do it all over again.

I tire very quickly when I dance. Leading is hard work, but I must do it or I might end up trapped in the dizzying whirl of your dance. That’s scary. My façade has clumsy feet, and my mask obscures my vision so it’s hard to see the little footprint patterns on the rug that tell me what you expect of me.

Besides, I don’t know where your steps may take me.

Smile, greet, laugh, twirl, do it all over again.

I can’t breathe well around so many others. My soul has asthma.

Often I can’t bring myself to approach the dance floor at all. Just the thought of it exhausts me.

I’m running out of strength. If you were to ask me why, I couldn’t tell you. I cannot point to anything about this dance which should have sapped me. But I am panting now, gasping for air.

I see the way you look at me. I have become a curiosity to you, an pitiable oddity, a one-woman band providing her own accompaniment, keeping her music to herself and never dancing to anyone else’s.

Smile, greet, laugh, twirl, do it all over again.

You waltz in your circles. I dance alone on a conveyer belt.

We wave at each other as I go by.

Why do I come here? Because this is the place where we talk about Him, the only one who has ever really held me. But I don’t want to dance with Him. Oh no. I want His arms to wrap around me and hold me tight to His chest until I stop whirling.

When I let Him hold me long enough, eventually I can even stop spinning on the inside.

Perhaps here, in His embrace, I can learn to waltz in circles with you.

I would like that.

----------------------

Today's "Friday Fiction" is being hosted by Lynda at "On the Write Track." Be sure to drop by there for links to other Friday Fiction entries.

And by the way, Happy Reformation Day!

And happy 44th birthday to me!

According to Wikipedia, on the day that I was born, President Lyndon Johnson pledged the creation of the Great Society. I'm honored that he would think my birth would make society great!

That was what he meant, right?

The World Says I Need Self-Esteem (Part 2)

(Part 2 of a Series)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

If I don't want to be a slave to inappropriate shame, should self-esteem be my focus?

Should self anything be my focus? Not if I want to avoid pride. You see, "low self-esteem" is really just pride expressing itself differently. Pride says, "I'm fantastic." Low self-esteem says, "I'm not fantastic, and I resent that fact more than anything in the world, because I OUGHT TO BE!" Both points of view put Self on center stage as the rightful heir of honor and esteem. One view is pride gratified by homage, and the other is pride disappointed by lack of homage. But both are pride.

So what am I left with?

First, instead of seeking to gain self-esteem, I should be seeking to lose the fear of man (specifically, the fear of what humans think of me). The Bible has a lot to say about that.

The fear of man brings a snare, But whoever trusts in the LORD shall be safe. (Pro 29:25)

The LORD is on my side; I will not fear. What can man do to me? (Psa 118:6)

But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear Him who, after He has killed, has power to cast into hell; yes, I say to you, fear Him! (Jesus, in Luke 12:5)

And perhaps one of the most remarkable examples is Isa. 51:12
"I, even I, am He who comforts you. Who are you that you should be afraid Of a man who will die, And of the son of a man who will be made like grass? (Isa 51:12)

"Who do you think you are to be afraid?" God says. If God Himself has told us to trust Him, has told us not to fear anyone or anything but Himself, then to refuse to trust is rebellion against God. And rebellion is nothing but pride with a clenched fist.

(It's important to point out that there is a normal physiological fear reaction that is instantaneous, tied in with our basic God-given survival instinct. It's what we feel when a snarling dog leaps at us. That's not what's at issue here. The kind of fear we're dealing with here is crippling fear, fear that makes up its mind not to step out in obedient faith because it refuses to trust God. Such fear looks at its circumstances, then at God, and says, "No, God, you don't have a grasp of this situation. You don't have the power to get me through it. Your ways aren't right, so I'm choosing mine." It's not hard to see the pride in that, is it?)

How do we lose the fear of man?

Please understand that I'm counseling myself here. Fear of man is a huge problem in my life. Always has been. But by the grace of God, I trust that it will not always be.

First, we need to recognize that the fear of man is insulting to God and idolatrous. It is putting humanity on one side of a scale, and putting God on the other side, and imagining that humanity's combined mass makes a lightweight out of the Almighty. "God, I know You have power over my life, but just look at them! They've got more power over me than You do. Their opinion of me matters more than Yours." We bow before the ones we fear most, turning our backs on the only One we really should fear. It's idolatry. Let's call it what it is, so we can start to hate it as we should.

Some of us don't take distrust of God seriously, because it seems like a minor failing, something that affects our own emotional state, but has no relevance to God himself. What an absurd idea that is! How do we feel when people refuse to trust us? How would we feel if we were perfect, and people still refused to trust us? No one ever deserved trust more than God, and distrusting him is a crime of treasonous proportions.

Let's not kid ourselves. Failure to trust may feel passive, a simple "sin of omission." But whenever we "passively" ignore or refuse God, we are actively choosing something or someone else instead of Him. There is no middle ground. "He who is not with me is against me," Jesus said (Matt. 12:30). When we choose not to trust God, we insult His omnipotence (almighty power), His omniscience (perfect knowledge and understanding), and His perfect goodness. We dethrone Him in our hearts, and we put mere humanity in His place. No wonder He says, "Who are you that you should be afraid of a man who will die?" He's the Eternal God, the Creator of the Ends of the Earth!

Join me in bowing before this Holy God, repenting of our self-absorption and idolatry. Let's ask His help to dethrone all flesh in our hearts, so that neither we ourselves nor any other human can reign there.

In Part 3 we'll conclude.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

(Photo from Stock.xchng by iofoto.)