Faith

Advent

“Give us grace that we may cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which thy son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty, to judge both the quick and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal.” Frederick Buechner

The beginning of Advent always reminds me of how the fog comes in, quietly and beautifully covering all things. Like a poem without words. I used to love walking down to the river when it was foggy. I was so acutely aware of of the sounds. The dripping of moisture from the trees, the birds, especially the geese. You could hear them but not see them until they were directly overhead. When I think of stealthy fog, I remember one particular day laying out on the beach. It was a warm day, and I lay face down on my towel. I fell asleep and when I awoke the coastal fog had drifted in and brought its chill with it. Yet another time, I was alone in my parents’ home around Christmas time. I was playing a rendition of O Holy Night when I can only describe what was clearly a visitation of the Holy Spirit that I will never forget.

Advent is about coming. The definition is: The arrival of a notable person, thing or event. In theology it is the coming or second coming of Christ.

It’s the audacity of a Holy God coming to this lowly, sin-cursed planet to rescue us from ourselves. It’s the incredible wonder all over again that God would love us so much that He would stoop to do such a thing. We can say that God is love all day long, but God’s love is something we must do something with. It’s like a beautiful package under the tree, until we open it, it’s just a pretty thing to look at. God’s love is something that needs action on our part. God did something, now we have to figure out what we are going to do with what He did.

It’s all about choices. And we all have a choice. We can do like the demons do and shudder as they say, “Jesus is Lord.” Or we can go through our whole life pretending we didn’t hear it. That it’s just a nice idea. We can also reject it all together. But as long as we have breath, we have a choice. And God is rooting for us all to choose His plan of Salvation.

“The Lord is not slow about his promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.” 2 Peter 3:9

Advent is where once again we turn toward the light, the Miracle that has come into the world. Before time even began, it was already in the works. That God would come to draw us to himself in hopes that we would turn towards him once again. Each day is like a little Advent all over again when we bring Jesus to our lives, our decisions, our joys and sorrows. I am thankful so thankful that I don’t have to walk through this journey of life alone. And thanks be to God, none of us do.

Even so, come Lord Jesus…….

Coming Home

“Those who live in the shadow of the most high will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.’ Psalm 91:1-2

It’s been so long since I’ve been here that I feel as if I have crept into the back door of my childhood home, letting myself in with the spare key. I can almost hear the creak of the screen door. I actually did do a recording of that squeak once, not wanting to forget what it sounded like. I drive by there from time to time to check on my brother’s rental that was put in the trust when he died, since its about 3 doors down.

The explanation for why I haven’t been here. I guess it’s just that the words haven’t come, not for lack of things happening in and outside of my life but for lack of thinking that any of it matters to anyone else. I tell myself it’s all part of the journey of writing. I hear people talk about it, the silence. I guess there is a place for it, otherwise why the 400 years of silence between Isaiah and the New Testament?

I recently started a Bible Study that I’m really enjoying. My childhood friend invited me and it’s held at a small Baptist Church that reminds me of church the way it used to be. We gather together in the sanctuary with the leader ( a little 4’11” dynamo) with a sparkle in her eyes and her spirit and a humble heart. We sing a hymn (from an actual hymnal) then she prays for us and we are released into our small groups and work through our study with a leader. We then meet back in the main hall where Pam goes through all our questions with a final lecture. I find myself looking forward to each lesson. I feel it bubbling through me like living water.

Getting back to the theme of home, where I think this is all going. Anytime we delve into Scripture, it’s a bit like coming home all over again. That is, if we put a bit of work into it. And this actual home we moved into, oh my friends, we are enjoying it so much. Eight years of living in a very small space does a number on you. For those who forgot or didn’t know, when we moved back here, we lived on my aunt’s property on the Mokelumne River. (Click on link to see) It fed my nature loving soul and it was a beautiful setting for sure. That part of it I miss but it was so restrictive in many ways. (And tiny) Constant worry over maintenance of an older RV and 50-year-old trees falling among other things and we were done.

So, we are home. This is the final resting place this side of Heaven unless there is an earthly purgatory in the form of a care home (God forbid). Not being able to care for yourself is a real downside of getting older. As my aunt says (she’s 92 now) “It’s not for sissies.”

It’s kind of weird how God and life work if you pay attention. About 40 years ago I came to this very same mobile home park. I went out on a spiritual limb and said yes to God (it was actually my aunt and uncle) but the much bigger yes is the one I said to God when he asked me to sing with their small group. ( A solo with canned background music) To this day I’m not sure why I said yes. Singing a solo was about as far from my personality as it gets. But He came through for me then and He has never left my side. All these years later, here I am and here He is.

So thank you for anyone here still reading and caring. The kittens we got from the Balam Foundation in Mexico are thriving. Atticus has attached himself to me and Scout has made Elaine his mama. Of course, we love them both equally. Needless to say, there will be no Christmas trees inside this year. We got some decorations up and I found Santa on the ground this morning with a few small parts missing. So far that is the only casualty. And for the first time in 9 years, we are cooking a turkey for Thanksgiving. Life is good friends. Most importantly God is good.

If you are still here, thank you for slogging along with me. I hope you and yours have a very Blessed Thanksgiving this year from my humble Prayer Closet……Peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Lori

When Words Fail

 images coffee

I am sitting in a little coffee shop I have always wanted to go to but never have. Today seemed right. I have just found out a friend and his wife have lost their baby. My friend loves coffee and tea shops so I thought it fitting that I come here because he would like that. So I am here honoring he and his wife, and their little one that was never to take first steps on this earth, but in Heaven instead. What can I possibly say to their grief except that I am praying for them, and I am.

The cinnamon topped Chai is wonderful on my tongue, and my background noise is the sound of Mahjong tiles rattling against the wood surface of the tables. It seems these ladies are regulars here and I am enjoying their banter. “Are you ready to make your move?” One of them says.

What a question. Any given day we could ask ourselves the very same question. Life is full of moves. Sometimes it’s one step forward, two steps back. Sometimes it’s an unexpected chasm of grief we have no clue how to get around. But this right here is life. And it’s good for me right this moment, so I grab on and say a prayer for my friends.

Another friend has been trying to conceive for years. The dreams and hopes to have a child of their own have not become a reality for she and her husband. It doesn’t make sense really. People have babies everyday without even trying. Sometimes I wonder why God allows certain people to have kids they don’t even seem to appreciate or deserve. And then there are those to whom another baby means a paycheck. I can’t even speak to that.

We create life, and just as easily, some of us snuff that same life out as a matter of convenience, or fear, or something else. And as Christians we don’t like to think about it. It’s the law of the land after all. I worry for our country and the direction it has been going for a while now.

My friends will be okay, because they know God and though they may not understand His answers or His silence, they trust Him anyway. Despite everything that happens in their lives, they know their Redeemer. And they know in time, He will lead them to the other side of this sorrow.

And someday, either on this side of paradise or in the hereafter, they will understand. We all will. For they know whom they have believed.

“You were holding what I needed,” one player says. Yes. He holds what we need. He is the God of empty arms. Promises unfulfilled. Dreams dashed. He holds it.

He holds us all. Thank you for holding my friend’s little one in Heaven until they get there. And while You’re at it, mend their broken hearts. Amen.

For this reason I also suffer these things, but I am not ashamed; for I know whom I have believed and I am convinced that He is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him until that day. 2 Timothy 1:12

Just As I Am……

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“How then will they call on Him in whom they have not believed? How will they believe in Him whom they have not heard? And how will they hear without a preacher?” Romans 10:14

I felt like I was time-traveling as I sat and watched the recent Billy Graham telecast, My Hope. It was that voice that brought it all back. Suddenly it was the 1970’s again, and I was in my early teens. Somewhere out there were still hippies and leftover flower children. Nixon might have declared the war in Vietnam over, but it still went on, over there and over here. But I was young and times were simple, peaceful in the evangelical world I grew up in.

The seventies brought modern translations of the Bible like “The “Good News for Modern Man” and the revolutionary,”The Way.” The old guard at my Baptist church didn’t approve. According to them, only the King James version was acceptible to God. And Jesus wore pin-striped suits. Yeah.

Those were the years of “Campus Crusade for Christ” and “Up with People”

We read spellbound about how gang member Nicky Cruz was brought to Christ by David Wilkerson’s fearless witness.

The Hiding Place movie came out, the story of what happened to Corrie Ten Boom’s family during the Holocaust.

And I am sitting in my Grandma’s warm kitchen watching the ORU singing group, the World Action Singers on her black and white set. She had an open line to the Prayer Tower and she was fond of both Oral Roberts and Ronald Reagan. Their pictures were scotch-taped in strategic places on her walls. In her broken German accent she could never master Oral’s name, instead it came out something like “Earlen B. Robbins.”

We watched Billy Graham crusades every time they came on TV.

I remembered the line he always said right before he gave the invitation to do that something bold.

That something bold was to step out of your seat and make your way to the aisle to start that trembling, wobbly, floating on your feet walk down the aisle to make a public declaration of your faith.

His message has never varied, it was always and only the Cross. Billy saw no need to fancy it up, to change with the times because he knew its message is timeless.

It’s what was known as the Altar Call. Some churches still have them. I remember the line from every crusade I ever watched. What Billy always said was, “Everyone that Jesus called he called publicly.” He always said it with a grand sweep of his arm as only he could say it.

Once, Billy Graham’s team came to my hometown and held a crusade at our festival grounds. He wasn’t there but another speaker was. All these years later I can still see his face, Lane Adams was his name. I knew by the end of that crusade that I would make that walk down my own church aisle the next Sunday.

I was fourteen and It was the best decision I ever made.

Then there was the time we all went to an actual crusade. I will never forget it. It was a hot, sweltering night in California’s beautiful capital city of Sacramento. We had to walk for what seemed like miles.

And I saw him from far, far away, and heard him speak. And it was powerful. A singer sang that night and I remember thinking, who is that girl and why does she have two first names? The singer was a young Sandy Patti. She was unknown then, but she went on to win Grammy’s and Dove awards. And she still has one of the finest voices you will ever hear.

And then Billy’s closing statements, and there was a hush as people fidgeted in the heat, shifting positions. And then the opening bar of “Just As I Am……” I can still hear the rustling of all that movement. A sea of people rose from all directions and just kept coming. It seemed there might be more up front than out in the crowd. I’ll never forget it.

My last church had an altar call, but I haven’t been to a service where they had one in a long while. Now it’s the declaration of “eyes closed, and heads bowed and a wave of the hand.” Somehow that doesn’t work for me. It’s just not the same. To me, it’s the most Holy moment of church and it brings us all closer together.

For how can we celebrate as a church family if we don’t even know it happened?

How can we acknowledge it when it happens behind closed doors?

For everyone Jesus called, He called publicly.

And He said unto them, “Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Matthew 4:19