Author's note: This is the last of my archived pieces, but one, which I won't post until closer to Christmas, since that is its subject. From here on out, excepting that Christmas piece, it's going to be all new writing. I owe my readers an apology, few though they are... I've put off writing since getting back to the US, arguing that I just didn't have the time for it now that I had housework to do and an additional child to care for, but looking at the way I use my time, I can see I've let time studying and writing about God's Word slide in favor of much less important things. Caring for the home and family are very important, of course, but there were other things that I've been doing that haven't been, including wasting time on the internet and in emails that could be better used in other activities, including studies and writing. That's going to change. I owe it to God, I owe it to myself and my family, and I owe it to anyone who can benefit from reading about my journey of faith, for Titus 2:4-5 admonishes us to teach those who are younger (including in the faith) to do what we have learned to do through our journey through God's Word. Back to this piece... It, too, was written the summer before we went to a new post in 2005.
Life has recently put my family in an awkward position. We’re a family who serves our country within the diplomatic community overseas. We’re between posts, wanting to go back overseas to continue serving as we have for the past six years, but having to wait until we obtain medical clearance before we can, a tricky feat considering our two year old was only recently diagnosed with not one, but two rare disorders, one causing the other. He appears to be doing fine, and the emotional turmoil that we’ve endured these past few months over his condition is a faith story all by itself, and not what I’m writing about right now. Rather, because the government is what it is, we’re finding it necessary to see doctor after doctor to gather all the minutiae about Ben’s condition and expected medical needs over the next few years so that the government can decide whether or not we’re all fit to safely live overseas. All these trips to doctors’ offices and hospital laboratories for consultations and tests have made day to day life very chaotic lately. The phrase that comes to mind is “Hurry up and wait!” We scramble to get three kids dressed, fed, and in the car, along with a properly stocked diaper bag and all pertinent medical files, negotiate traffic while consulting directions and maps, hurrying to get to our appointed locations on time. Then we wait. That’s the hard part. We get in, see the doctors or do the tests, go back to the hotel, and wait some more for answers or further instructions. Again we feel impatient.
Meanwhile, we have no idea where we’ll be going from here. If we get approval, we’ll be going back overseas. If not, we’ll have to settle down here in the US. Normally in times of transition, I’m the sort of person who is busily preparing for the next stage of our lives. It’s one of the ways that I deal with the stress of change, making myself ready for whatever lies ahead. But it’s hard to prepare for something when you don’t know what you’re preparing for! If I knew we’d be going overseas, I’d be shopping for things I know I’ll need there. If I knew we’d be staying in the US, I’d be taking steps to find us a place to live and a car to buy. In both cases, I’d be submitting changes of address to everyone who needed to know. Right now I can’t do any of that. For the first time in my life, I find myself in a position where I not only have to acknowledge that I have no control, but I have to accept that there’s nothing I can do to prepare for whatever lies ahead either. It’s sort of like sitting in a doctors’ office waiting room on a big scale. It’s been frustrating, a little frightening, maddening... and enlightening.
Most of us, I think, want to take control of things, fix things, organize things… anything to feel like we have some power over what happens to us. As Christians, we know that such feelings of power are illusions, of course, as ultimately God is the only One who really has any true power, but we take comfort in that illusion whenever and wherever we can, I believe, especially when our own bodies make us feel powerless. We don’t like feeling helpless. We want to DO something, MAKE something happen. It’s hard to just sit and wait. Hard to be still.
Exodus tells us the story of Israel being led out of slavery in Egypt. Chapter 14 describes how the Pharaoh changed his mind about letting the Israelites go and sent his army after them, trapping them between the army, the desert and the sea. This was definitely a situation in which the people no doubt felt a strong desire to DO something! There were probably all sorts of knee-jerk ideas about how to deal with this frightening problem, from surrendering in the hope of having their lives spared, even though that would put them back into the slavery that God was leading them out of; to fighting with anything they could find to use as a weapon (how successful do you suppose they’d be fighting with yokes and cooking pots?); to fleeing into the desert, abandoning all their possessions and provisions, which would have led to slow, certain death. None of these options were really workable. The people turned to Moses in a panic, and what did he tell them they should do? He responded, “The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.” (Ex 14:14) Wow! Talk about needing to trust in the Lord! Their trust was well placed, however, and they were saved in a miraculous way when God blocked the army with a pillar of fire and opened an escape route through the sea. To finish the job with remarkable finality, He then drowned the army, eliminating threat from that direction altogether. Why did He do this? For His glory, Exodus 14:4 tells us. He made it clear throughout Exodus that those He had mercy on would be taken care of, provided for in every way, while those who invoked His wrath would be punished. (Rom 9:17, 22-23)
Even when we’re not in such life-threatening situations as this, it’s still hard for us to just step aside and let the Lord work His will in our lives. But Psalm 37:7 tells us to “Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him.” Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” Do you know what I think? I think sometimes God finds it necessary to “trap” us in order to get us to “be still” while He does what needs to be done, or teaches us what we need to know. After all, He placed the Israelites in the position of having to trust Him (Ex 14:1-4). I suspect He still does that today, though perhaps in a less dramatic way. Maybe instead of getting frustrated over my powerlessness, I should accept that I’ve done all I can for myself for now, and so need to be still and wait on the Lord while He fights my battles or whatever else He chooses to do for me. That puts “hurry up and wait” in a different light, don’t you think?
Father, I thank you for fighting for me. What a comfort it is, to know that I am so well protected by One who loves me so much! For if You are for me, who can stand against me? Thank you for all those times you've "trapped" me, encouraging me to be still while You do whatever needs done to further Your good plans. Help me to be quietly trusting and to wait upon You in the future when You find it necessary to corner me again. In Jesus' name, Amen.
Showing posts with label Old Testament. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Old Testament. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
Sarah Laughed: What Will You Do?
Author's note: This is another item I wrote in 2003 that was later published in The Encourager. Again, I post it in case someone can take encouragement from it...
We read in Genesis 18:10-12 how Sarah, Abraham’s wife, reacted when she heard that she was to become a mother in her advanced years. She was a woman past child-bearing age, had never had any children, and was in her nineties (Gen 17:17). She laughed. And well she might, for she described herself as already “worn out”, yet anyone who has ever cared for a baby knows that it’s exhausting work. After restless days and nights from the discomforts of late pregnancy, there’s the grueling labor of bringing the child into the world. Then there’s the frequent interruptions in one’s days and nights as the helpless little baby needs fed, changed, comforted and made comfortable, all while returning to one’s regular duties of daily living. In Sarah’s case, without the assistance of modern conveniences, I might add.
We laugh for many reasons, not just for joy. We also laugh when we’re shocked, confused, and even when we’re frightened but not sure if we should be. While Sarah surely felt joy at the thought of becoming a mother, she no doubt also felt incredulous (“You’ve GOT to be kidding!”) and possibly even a little frightened (“How am I going to handle having a baby at my age?!”)
But God had a plan, and Sarah’s age and physical condition had little to do with it. As the Lord Himself reminded Abraham in verse 14, “Is anything too hard for the LORD?” God has plans for all of us, even if we’re chronically ill and “worn out.” Like Sarah, our physical condition has little to do with it. We may find ourselves being called to some mission that seems ridiculously beyond our capabilities or even one that causes us to fear for what health we have left; a mission that may have us laughing in disbelief, joy or fright, or perhaps even crying. The Bible gives us several promises to lean on if this happens. We have the promise of strength in Philippians 4:13, “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” We can take reassurance from the promise in Jeremiah 29:11, “’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.’” We can take confidence from 2 Corinthians 12:9, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
Sarah submitted to the Lord’s plans, despite her age and weariness, and knew joy when His promise was fulfilled (Gen 21:6.) If we submit to God’s calling, despite our illness, we too can know joy when our obedience produces fruit. Sarah laughed. What will you do?
Father, I thank you that we needn't fear any task that you call us to do, that you will give us the strength and grace to complete it, and that you will not let us be harmed in any lasting way by our missions. Give us the wisdom to know the difference between great tasks that you're calling us to do and those that we're imposing on ourselves (or allowing others to impose on us), for the former we'll be able to do in Christ, while the latter may overtask our already weakened bodies to our detriment. Help us to find joy in being called in spite of our infirmities, so that we laugh in delight, rather than shocked disbelief. In Christ's name, Amen.
We read in Genesis 18:10-12 how Sarah, Abraham’s wife, reacted when she heard that she was to become a mother in her advanced years. She was a woman past child-bearing age, had never had any children, and was in her nineties (Gen 17:17). She laughed. And well she might, for she described herself as already “worn out”, yet anyone who has ever cared for a baby knows that it’s exhausting work. After restless days and nights from the discomforts of late pregnancy, there’s the grueling labor of bringing the child into the world. Then there’s the frequent interruptions in one’s days and nights as the helpless little baby needs fed, changed, comforted and made comfortable, all while returning to one’s regular duties of daily living. In Sarah’s case, without the assistance of modern conveniences, I might add.
We laugh for many reasons, not just for joy. We also laugh when we’re shocked, confused, and even when we’re frightened but not sure if we should be. While Sarah surely felt joy at the thought of becoming a mother, she no doubt also felt incredulous (“You’ve GOT to be kidding!”) and possibly even a little frightened (“How am I going to handle having a baby at my age?!”)
But God had a plan, and Sarah’s age and physical condition had little to do with it. As the Lord Himself reminded Abraham in verse 14, “Is anything too hard for the LORD?” God has plans for all of us, even if we’re chronically ill and “worn out.” Like Sarah, our physical condition has little to do with it. We may find ourselves being called to some mission that seems ridiculously beyond our capabilities or even one that causes us to fear for what health we have left; a mission that may have us laughing in disbelief, joy or fright, or perhaps even crying. The Bible gives us several promises to lean on if this happens. We have the promise of strength in Philippians 4:13, “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” We can take reassurance from the promise in Jeremiah 29:11, “’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.’” We can take confidence from 2 Corinthians 12:9, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
Sarah submitted to the Lord’s plans, despite her age and weariness, and knew joy when His promise was fulfilled (Gen 21:6.) If we submit to God’s calling, despite our illness, we too can know joy when our obedience produces fruit. Sarah laughed. What will you do?
Father, I thank you that we needn't fear any task that you call us to do, that you will give us the strength and grace to complete it, and that you will not let us be harmed in any lasting way by our missions. Give us the wisdom to know the difference between great tasks that you're calling us to do and those that we're imposing on ourselves (or allowing others to impose on us), for the former we'll be able to do in Christ, while the latter may overtask our already weakened bodies to our detriment. Help us to find joy in being called in spite of our infirmities, so that we laugh in delight, rather than shocked disbelief. In Christ's name, Amen.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Stepping Out in Faith
Author's note: The following was written in 2003, and later published in a newsletter for chronically ill Christians called The Encourager. I'm adding it to the blog in case it is something that would be of encouragement to a wider audience. I'll be doing this with other writings I've submitted over the years as well.
In Genesis 12:1-25:18, the Bible tells us Abraham’s story, how God called him from his homeland to go to a new place that God had set aside for him and his descendants. Abraham had to leave behind everything and everyone he knew, taking only his possessions and his family. He had to step out in faith, trusting in God that where he was going would be better than what he left.
It occurs to me that we’re all on a similar journey when it comes to dealing with the changes that being chronically ill has created in our lives. Despite our illnesses, we are called to run with perseverance the race marked out for us (Heb 12:1), and that’s hard to do, literally or figuratively, when you’re ill.
I read once that many of us are like roller coasters, pushing to the top of the hill with everything we’ve got, and then crashing down to the bottom when we’ve pushed too far. On the other hand, I think many of us are like kiddie rides that just move around in small circles, going nowhere fast, for fear that we’ll only make ourselves sicker if we do more than the bare minimum needed to survive. Then more of us, I suspect, are like me, vacillating between the two extremes with an all or nothing mentality. Both extremes are damaging, whether we’re abusing our bodies beyond their capabilities, or allowing them to whither and atrophy. Neither lifestyle honors God or the temporary temples He’s loaned us (1 Cor. 6:19-20). But how does this compare to Abraham?
When God called Abraham to leave his home to go to a new place, he didn’t shout “Hot-diggity-dog Let’s make tracks ” and go running off into the desert with nothing but the clothing on his back. There weren’t restaurants on every corner, nor a “Wal-get” just around the next bend where he could pick up whatever he forgot to bring. It took planning to make sure they had what they needed all along the way. And when they needed to stop for a while, they did. They didn’t even take a direct route, but rather one that followed the rivers so they’d have water.
Neither did Abraham say “I don’t know about this… It doesn’t seem such a good idea,” all while worrying about the “what-if’s.” It could have been so easy for him to justify staying right where he was, choosing to keep what he already had, and forfeiting the promise of something better. After all, traveling back then was quite perilous, and certainly uncomfortable.
Abraham stepped out in faith, did what needed to be done to make the journey, rested when it was necessary, and eventually made it to the promised land and received God’s blessing. He traded all he had left behind for something far better. Perhaps we could find a way to do the same in the way we deal with our illnesses. Perhaps there’s a way we can find something workable between roller coasters and kiddie rides. How about a ferris wheel: slowly rising up to new challenges, enjoying the view from the top for a moment, and gently descending into a period of rest before we rise up again? Whatever we do, breaking out of our destructive habits will include stepping out of our comfort zones and trying something new, and trusting that if we do it for the right reasons, to honor God, that we’ll find ourselves trading up for something better.
Father, I thank you that You always give us something better when You ask us to give up something, no matter how much we may resist doing so. Give us the courage to willingly hand over everything we value and trust You to replace it with whatever You wish us to have instead, and give us the wisdom to know that Your way really is better. Give us the strength to follow the path you lay before us, and keep us hoping in the Promised Land at the end of the journey! In Christ's name, Amen!
In Genesis 12:1-25:18, the Bible tells us Abraham’s story, how God called him from his homeland to go to a new place that God had set aside for him and his descendants. Abraham had to leave behind everything and everyone he knew, taking only his possessions and his family. He had to step out in faith, trusting in God that where he was going would be better than what he left.
It occurs to me that we’re all on a similar journey when it comes to dealing with the changes that being chronically ill has created in our lives. Despite our illnesses, we are called to run with perseverance the race marked out for us (Heb 12:1), and that’s hard to do, literally or figuratively, when you’re ill.
I read once that many of us are like roller coasters, pushing to the top of the hill with everything we’ve got, and then crashing down to the bottom when we’ve pushed too far. On the other hand, I think many of us are like kiddie rides that just move around in small circles, going nowhere fast, for fear that we’ll only make ourselves sicker if we do more than the bare minimum needed to survive. Then more of us, I suspect, are like me, vacillating between the two extremes with an all or nothing mentality. Both extremes are damaging, whether we’re abusing our bodies beyond their capabilities, or allowing them to whither and atrophy. Neither lifestyle honors God or the temporary temples He’s loaned us (1 Cor. 6:19-20). But how does this compare to Abraham?
When God called Abraham to leave his home to go to a new place, he didn’t shout “Hot-diggity-dog Let’s make tracks ” and go running off into the desert with nothing but the clothing on his back. There weren’t restaurants on every corner, nor a “Wal-get” just around the next bend where he could pick up whatever he forgot to bring. It took planning to make sure they had what they needed all along the way. And when they needed to stop for a while, they did. They didn’t even take a direct route, but rather one that followed the rivers so they’d have water.
Neither did Abraham say “I don’t know about this… It doesn’t seem such a good idea,” all while worrying about the “what-if’s.” It could have been so easy for him to justify staying right where he was, choosing to keep what he already had, and forfeiting the promise of something better. After all, traveling back then was quite perilous, and certainly uncomfortable.
Abraham stepped out in faith, did what needed to be done to make the journey, rested when it was necessary, and eventually made it to the promised land and received God’s blessing. He traded all he had left behind for something far better. Perhaps we could find a way to do the same in the way we deal with our illnesses. Perhaps there’s a way we can find something workable between roller coasters and kiddie rides. How about a ferris wheel: slowly rising up to new challenges, enjoying the view from the top for a moment, and gently descending into a period of rest before we rise up again? Whatever we do, breaking out of our destructive habits will include stepping out of our comfort zones and trying something new, and trusting that if we do it for the right reasons, to honor God, that we’ll find ourselves trading up for something better.
Father, I thank you that You always give us something better when You ask us to give up something, no matter how much we may resist doing so. Give us the courage to willingly hand over everything we value and trust You to replace it with whatever You wish us to have instead, and give us the wisdom to know that Your way really is better. Give us the strength to follow the path you lay before us, and keep us hoping in the Promised Land at the end of the journey! In Christ's name, Amen!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Release Me!
This past Sunday, our pastor was sharing the latest of a series of sermons on the life of Old Testament Joseph (Genesis 37 & 39-47). It was a message I needed to hear. This particular sermon was focusing on Genesis chapter 40, in which Joseph was in prison after being falsely accused of attacking his employer's wife, and while there, he interprets the dreams of two fellow prisoners, one of whom is predicted to be released and returned to his position as the Pharaoh's cupbearer. He asked the cupbearer to remember him to the Pharaoh, to tell Pharaoh his story of unjust imprisonment, and ask for his release. The cupbearer was released, just as Joseph said he would be, but forgot about Joseph for two full years afterwards, before telling Pharaoh about him when Pharaoh had dreams of his own in need of interpretation. Our pastor was talking about what Joseph's thoughts and attitudes must have been... How easy it would have been to become discouraged, angry, and hopeless. Yet Joseph is described throughout his story as having remained faithful and praising God, of displaying good attitude and a good work ethic at a time when most people would be inclined to sulk. I found this message very convicting, for I, too, feel as if I'm imprisoned wrongly, only within a body that doesn't do what I want it to do, and charges me a high price when I do more than it will tolerate. Being chronically ill with no answers or healing in sight can and has made me feel discouraged, angry and hopeless at times. And it gets especially so when others "forget" me, either by not taking my situation seriously (as many do when there aren't any easy answers or fixes), or simply by moving on with their own lives and forgetting to occasionally invite me into it, even though I often have to decline such invitations (it's still nice to be asked!) I need to remember that God never forgets! He still has a plan for me, and will release me from this physical prison when His time is right for it, whether it will be in this life or the next. I need to keep the hope alive because of that promise, for hope is what keeps us going and lends power to a good attitude. Yet, I don't know when God's time for such release will come, and this isn't really my life to waste (since all good things come from Him) so I need to make the most of every day in spite of my limitations, rather than sit around expectantly waiting for a "better tomorrow" before trying to live my life. With that in mind, I've decided to do my best to keep on hoping that maybe this is the day I will be released from my ever-present pain and fatigue, but to forge ahead as if that release won't be coming anytime soon. When my Lord comes to unlock my prison door, I want Him to find me productive, content with my lot, and praising Him even before I know He's at the door, so that release is purely bonus.
Father, I thank you that we have such good examples in the Bible from which to learn. And I thank you that the Bible is full of Your promises; promises we know we can count on in Your good time. Thank You, Lord, in advance for the release You will give us from our prisons. In the meantime, help us to live each day to the fullest in service to You and those You have blessed us with for a time. Give us the strength and grace to do what You would have us do, and to do it cheerfully, with good attitude and a good work ethic. In Jesus' name, Amen.
Father, I thank you that we have such good examples in the Bible from which to learn. And I thank you that the Bible is full of Your promises; promises we know we can count on in Your good time. Thank You, Lord, in advance for the release You will give us from our prisons. In the meantime, help us to live each day to the fullest in service to You and those You have blessed us with for a time. Give us the strength and grace to do what You would have us do, and to do it cheerfully, with good attitude and a good work ethic. In Jesus' name, Amen.
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