In the Quiet

And I say, “Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest; Psalm 55:6

This morning I didn’t even change, I went out to my prayer closet in my PJ’s in the half-light. It was hot, sticky, and the air smelled of dust. I couldn’t really smell it, since I have never had that sense. I share that genetic trait with my Grandpa on my Dad’s side. I went out, lit my candle and tried to remember the hymn that came to me at around 2AM this morning. I pulled it from the cobwebs of my mind after a few slugs of rich, deep coffee……..

Take my life and let it be consecrated, Lord, to Thee. Take my moments and my days, let them flow in endless praise, let them flow in endless praise. Take my hands and let them move, at the impulse of Thy love. Take my feet and let them be swift and beautiful for Thee, swift and beautiful for thee.

I never did enjoy singing it, because I felt the melody kind of dragged along, but the words, the words. I feel the power of those words and the rest of the hymns I learned so long ago now more than ever. Those melodies, those words are the backdrop of my life. They come back so often and never fail to comfort, to strengthen, to bring peace. Unless someone had taken me to church, (thanks Mom) I never would have heard them. I hope they never go away.

This morning, God beckoned me to a still forest, a place I’ve cleared in my heart. Desert beauty only goes so far, especially when the mercury soars 110 and above.

There I gathered all my happiest memories like a child gathers favorite toys. “Sit with me,” He seemed to say, and just enjoy my presence here in the quiet. So I did. And I imagined I could actually smell the pine. “It’s one thing I want to smell when I get to Heaven,” I told Him. That, and salty air and flowers. “Oh,” He said, “You will smell that and much more, for the air teems with life and only life, and death is not even a distant memory.”

If you are grieving someone today, please know that there will come a day when the joy of simple things will make you smile again. There will come a day, and it will surprise you, that you will laugh again. You will probably feel guilty about that too, but try not to. They wouldn’t want that. But sure as I know anything, I know this. Dawn will break in your heart, and you will know you will be okay. And the memories will no longer cut like a knife, they will be a source of comfort.

You may wonder why people don’t come by. It’s not because they don’t care, it’s because they may not know what to say. They may be fishing for answers themselves, and they feel useless if they can’t give them to you. Just the same, you are loved, you are thought of, you are not alone.

Take my voice, and let me sing
Always, only, for my King;
Take my lips, and let them be
Filled with messages from Thee.
Filled with messages from Thee.

Words: Frances R. Havergal 1874.

When God says the story isn’t quite finished

This story started with someone who dared to do something brave. Something for himself but mostly something for Him because sometimes we need more than words to express our love, our devotion to the One who has given us life. When I hung the painting I could see it from the kitchen and it always made me smile because I remember the conversation (via text) we had about what verse to put on it. Read the account “here.”

Over and over again, my eye would travel back to that yellow in the corner, and somehow I knew I wanted to bring that out. I had seen a floating frame, one specifically used for framed canvases that I really loved. It made a canvas stand out, almost like 3D and I loved the depth of that. I wanted it. Elaine was getting nervous because she knows once I get something in her head, I never let it go. After a few visits to frame shops she said, “I will make it, how hard could it be?”

She had never made a frame before, but anyone who knows my best friend knows that not ever having done something only spurs her on to further action. She’s a problem solver, a fixer of the broken, a restorer. She is one who never likes to see anything wasted.

In the meantime, last weekend I decided to clean out my dressers. I emptied every drawer……I sifted, I cleaned, I vacuumed out. And it was then that I found it. An old painting my Dad had done when he decided to paint again after a long dry spell. I found it in one of his tablets on one of my visits back home. It had paint marks all along the side of it, like he was testing colors……brush strokes. I don’t even remember asking him if I could have it, I just took it. I was afraid he would throw it away.

The final painting, the one he deemed good enough, was presented to my Sister-in-law one Christmas, back before she went to Heaven.

It was only after I had lifted it out of the pile of papers, that I noticed. I took it over and held it next to the painting that Duane did. I gasped and called Elaine over. “Look,” I said excitedly, “The yellow he used, it’s the very same one!” How could that happen? That two artists, years and miles apart would use that same shade of yellow? But they did. And then I started to think that maybe God was at work here.

And when I called my Dad last night, he was depressed. But then I told him the whole story and I could hear him smile across the phone lines. “So you took my “mistake” and hung it on the wall?”

“Yes,” I said, “I did.” He paused thoughtfully and then said, “That’s just the kind of thing God does, but you must have your eyes open enough to see it.” What he saw as flawed, I saw as perfection, because he did it.

So now, on my wall I see more than art, more than paintings. I see friendship, and a father. I see love.

I see God bringing people together through what they create. I see something like the Trinity during Creation.

Now when I look at my wall, I see more than just art.

I see a person who refuses to say, “It can’t be done.”

I see another who tried something new and God blessed it.

I see another who overcame fear to resurrect a talent long after they thought it was dead and gone.

And I see someone who brought new life to something left in the scrap heap.

I see what God has done for each one of us………brought us all out of the reject pile and made us into something new.

Riptide of love

God caught me by surprise me this morning.

That’s how the Holy Spirit works, like the wind, you never know when He might come (it’s part of the mystery)

His Spirit washed over me like a wave. It was unexpected and I almost couldn’t contain it.

Because how can you contain a God that even stones will cry out to?

How can I be anything less than an instrument of His praise from my first breath to my last?

Sometimes He gives me a glimpse…..just one is all it takes and I fall in love. All over again. He knows when I need assuring.

Just the fact that He does reveal Himself to me stuns me with silence but the next moment I want to pull my car over and jump up and down on the side of the road.

Our God is a shockandawe kind of God, powerful enough to calm the sea and taunt death.

He breaths fire from his nostrils and carries lambs on His shoulders and I can scarcely imagine the depths of His love and mercy.

He calms the sea and walks through walls like some kind of Superhero God.

He tames lions and turns people into pillars of salt, stops them in their tracks.

Yet He grips me in His gentle Hand like King Kong might hold a butterfly.

He allows me to feel the glow of His Holy fire from a distance because He knows too close would burn me like the sun.

I am blown away by the fact that He loves me and the timing He uses to let me know.

I was riding a wave, caught in the riptide of His love, I was surfing on a wave of fire.

Consuming fire and gentle whisper hung on a cross.

Satan thought He won that day, He was doing a victory dance over that one.

But he made a huge mistake by underestimating the power of love,

left out of the loop of God’s plan by his own failure to imagine what God might do to save us.

He didn’t think God would go through with it.

But He did.

Oh happy day.

Painting by Duane Scott

How we can lose our fear

Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand. Isaiah 41:10

He didn’t know it, but when he said he was selling that first painting, I went and looked at my walls for a space. I loved the message…..”You are enough.” So simple and yet so powerful, as if God was speaking from Heaven drawing the eye toward that light, with a message for all the world. And then he said it was sold, but that he would paint one for me. I caught my breath. He did he know? Maybe it was all those “likes” on Facebook. I don’t remember saying I wanted one. But I did.

And it’s anointed, I know that. Because whenever God joins up with us to create something, the message always reaches more than who it’s originally intended for.

In between stammering and searching for words I told him that my Dad painted watercolor and how it was growing up with paints around. How he would put a black “X” through a painting we all thought was perfect but he didn’t.

I told him about how I have always battled fear, always been unsure of my own abilities, always looking for confirmation. But maybe I should be grateful, it’s the one thing that has kept me close to my Father’s side.

When we settled on the quote, I knew it was right. Isaiah is one of my favorite books in all the Bible.

Last night, Elaine stood in the kitchen overwhelmed because so much was over and she was afraid of relaxing; of not knowing where or when the emotion would finally release itself. I said, “At some point when you finally settle down and relax, you will wonder how you ever got through it all.” She said, “Yes, that’s what I’m worried about, that’s when it will hit.”

No more school, no more double duty rest home visits between runs. No more sleeping out on the porch listening to motorcycles cut through the night at all hours, screaming off to who knows where. No more sleeping with ice packs because it’s still 100 degrees and your Mom doesn’t even realize she is sleeping in your old room. No more battles over showers. No more watching her Dad lose his grip on this life and pass into the next.

No more. And it scares her to death. Because now it feels like she just dove off a cliff and forgot her parachute.

Yes, this message is for more than just me. It is for her too, as well as the artist who painted it. Really, it’s a message God wants all of us to get. It’s an open invitation to be inspired to leave our fears behind.

Inspiration, when it starts with God, spreads outward like ripples in a lake. When we create something with our own hands, it’s like He is inviting us into His personal sanctuary. To our surprise, we discover that the transubstantiation that takes place during the creative process actually has the power to give life. Whatever we make then becomes glory for Him.

“Do not fear, for I am with you.” Like a voice in the wilderness it beckons.

Thank you Duane for using your talent for His glory, and thank you Jessica for encouraging this, a little bird told me you did.

How we can rise again and again

It was just a little wedding arbor up in front of the church, the plain wooden kind, unadorned, flowerless and simple. We wondered at its presence, but later on in the service we watched it take on significance as that humble little wooden arbor become a portal into another world.

We watched living souls walk through that little arbor clutching their signed death certificates, the ones that were on all of our seats, walk through that humble wooden portal from death to life in just a few steps all the way to Jesus. It was a victory walk they were doing, and we watched, witnesses to their commitment as we clutched our own certificates and renewed our own vows.

As the invitational song was sung, I had my eyes closed praying when Elaine elbowed me. I saw tears pooled in her eyes. She pointed left and then tears sprang to my own eyes as I saw a throng of people, as it turned out over 200 in our service alone. I expected several, but to be honest I was not prepared to see that many. I thought maybe there was a hidden door somewhere, because I didn’t know where all the people were coming from. The last one over the threshold was an old man, alone. Everyone clapped as he walked through.

My faith was in turn chastened, restored and staggered by seeing the redemptive power of the cross in action. And out of the land of shadows we all came, right along with them.

And then when Pastor Kevin said, “And if you want to get Baptized right after the service we have clothes you can change into, I will be there waiting.” That just set our hearts in motion even more. Watching people take that leap of faith in front of God and everyone never gets old.

After that we talked with our new neighbors and met their dogs, then later we took a short drive in the Motorhome which has been somewhat neglected due to so much time taken up with E’s care-taking duties. Soon after we got home there was a phone call from her Dad’s nursing home asking her whether to admit him to the hospital. He was thrashing around and crying out.

She left and walked into halls where death always seems to be waiting. Crouching on the sidelines.

Bus isn’t it always in this life? And Easter Day it seems, is no exception.

The day after Easter we are faced with the challenge of rising up right along with Him, of living out our faith story victoriously. We can only do that one way, and that’s by fixing our eyes and our faith on Jesus. Each and every day……we……must……choose……life.

Watching someone suffer and arrive ever closer to death who has not chosen the path of life is heartbreaking, and no one is more heartbroken than God Himself.

Who sees what could have been in each of us.

We are all waiting in the wings between life and death. But because of the cross and the empty tomb, we can rest there victorious, hopeful and fully alive. And if you love someone who is still living in the land of the shadows, never give up. Where there is breath, there is always room for hope.

The day we call Easter has come and gone, but the power of the resurrection raises us up again and again. Until that day when we see Him face to face.

And oh what a day that will be.

I brought my death certificate home and stuck it in my Bible to remind myself of what I decided long ago and where I am going after I leave this place. It rests there now.

Hope between the pages.

He is not here……

On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus…….

While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: ‘The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.’ ”

Then they remembered his words.

While they were still talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.”

He told them, “This is what is written: The Messiah will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and repentance for the forgiveness of sins will be preached in hisname to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. I am going to send you what my Father has promised; but stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.”

Even the sun hid her face

At noon, darkness fell across the whole land until three o’clock.

That day, even the sun refused to show her face.

Then at three o’clock Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?”

Right then, He tasted hell so we wouldn’t have to.

Then Jesus uttered another loud cry and breathed his last.

And it was finished once and for all.

And the curtain in the sanctuary of the Temple was torn in two, from top to bottom.

That day, even the ground gave up her dead.

When the Roman officer who stood facing himsaw how he had died, he exclaimed, “This man truly was the Son of God!”

And when they saw even the elements quake, they fell silent……

That day, even the sun hid her face.

But not for long……She knew Sunday was right around the corner.

Passages not italicized taken from the Book of Mark

Making Pancakes for Jesus

And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Colossians 3:17

Every once in a while, well a lot, God reminds me not to take myself too seriously. Today He gave me this post. I started to continue with Isaiah 53 and get all heavy and sad and introspective, but then God switched things up on me because last night I had this dream. Anyone who knows me knows I have very strange dreams. Anyone close to me gets to hear the details sometimes, and sometimes, like today you readers. All 2 or 10 or maybe 20 of you.

Sometimes I dream about funny little cars with no bottoms, like the Flintstones drove. Other times it is my teeth falling out. Other times it sweeping a floor or getting ready for a party that I never get to. Many times water will be rushing through my house, other times I will be climbing ladders and dark, steep passageways.

Last night it was pancakes. To those who know about the semi-conductor industry or wafer fabrication industry, you know that the chips in your computers start out in round wafers which come in different millimeters and sizes. When I started out in 1998, the wafers were about 6 inches in diameter. We actually had to manually move them around with vacuum wands. Now everything is fully automated and humans never touch them.

Last night my wafers turned into pancakes. I was in an area as big as a very large room with different cooking stations set up, kind of like something you’d see on Iron Chef, with and pancakes in various stages of cooking on each one. I had to remember which ones were close to being done so I could flip them.

What does this have to do with Jesus, you say? On the way to work I was thinking that in light of what Jesus did for us? What we are doing down here pretty much boils down to making pancakes. I don’t care if you’re the President of a major corporation or the President of the United States, we are all just making pancakes.

The question is not what we are doing, but how we are doing it. That is all that matters to God.

God is not impressed with what we do. He is impressed by how we are doing it and who are we doing it for, and if we are doing it with love. I guess it’s easy for me not to take myself too seriously. Everytime I call my Mom and kinda, sorta, almost complain, she tells me about someone she heard about who was orphaned and has no arms and has to do everything with their feet, and they still went to night-school and raised 5 kids while doing it.

That may be a slight exaggeration, but you get the point.

So today, in light of the tremendous sacrifice Jesus made for us? That whatever we do, wherever we go, whatever we think looks insurmountable or really impressive?

It all comes down to making pancakes to the glory of God. (Latkes in Yiddish and Levivot in Hebrew)

I pray that you will forgive my lighthearted approach leading up to Good Friday. It is a day that I always take extremely seriously. I will doing some reflecting over the next couple of days, as I always do. But always, with the backdrop of the joy of the celebration foremost in my mind.

May God light your path today and lift your heart as we celebrate His death, burial and more importantly His resurrection this week.

Photo credit: my niece Lauryn Cook taken by her Dad. I used it because it always makes me smile.

He was thinking of you……

Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted.

He wants to take them up even now, He is waiting.

But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.

He was willing to be a loser in the eyes of the world so that we might be winners.

We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.

He took the punishment and death meant for us willingly so that we wouldn’t have to since we were powerless to do so anyway.

He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.

He took the mortal death blows so that we could all be reunited with God and live as one happy family in eternity.

His resurrection gives us peace in this life as we await the next.

He could have silenced them all with one glance, but He took our punishment like a man. He wasn’t afraid to be misunderstood and misrepresented.

He took a false charge because He was thinking of you and me and our future together.

Isaiah 53:4-7 Commentary in between verses are my own thoughts in prayer while reading through passages.

The Suffering Servant

Who has believed our message?
And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?
For He grew up before Him like a tender shoot,
And like a root out of parched ground;

He has no stately form or majesty
That we should look upon Him,
Nor appearance that we should be attracted to Him.
He was despised and forsaken of men,

A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;
And like one from whom men hide their face
He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.

Isaiah 53:1-3

700 years before Jesus walked the earth…..

Images: Google, me, and Laurence Olivier playing the role of Nicodemus in Jesus of Nazareth directed by Franco Zeffirelli circa 1977

Lori's Prayer Closet

"And when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done is secret, will reward you……"Matthew 6:6

Resurrection