PAIN WITH A PURPOSE

(The labor of bringing new life and the grinding of the turner's lathe-- two examples of pain that bears lovely consequences.)

"... though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith-- of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire-- may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory, and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."
1 Peter 1:5-7

Where are you hurting right now? Do you feel hemmed in by circumstances over which you have no control? Has it been a glancing blow you didn't see coming, or is it a thing which has dripped and dripped day after day until the concave place worn by the first eon of this is quickly growing into a deep cavity? Do you pace in your cage and stare wistfully through the bars to a freedom that you can scarcely remember ? Is "hope" dwindling into a word for naive idealists? Peter's first letter is addressed to " God's elect strangers in the world, scattered through Pontus, Galatia, Cappodocia, Asia, and Bithynia, who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and sprinkling by His blood..." It is addressed to us. We have been chosen through the Spirit for obedience. That is why we are alive-- to bring glory to our God by obedience to Him.

But obedience is such a big word! It's hard to keep our little minds wrapped around everything that job requires of us at any given moment. Some times are easier than others to see what we are being called upon to obey Him in. And when we suffer, we wonder if it is because we slipped up somewhere and let something get past us whose consequences now must visit us as a result of our sloppiness or negligence, our laziness, or maybe even some rebellion about which we have been in denial. When this happens to me, it doesn't take long to find something to convict in myself-- usually several somethings. Of course, sometimes my suffering might not so much be related to anything I've done wrong. Maybe it's because of something someone else did or failed to do.

But the point of this scripture is that the place we should always look first is to God-- and not just for answers to "why?" Maybe that's really none of our business right now. What is always our business is "what?" What can I do with this that will make me more genuine? What can I do to use this thing so that it will result in praise and glory to God? Ask Him these things, and then expect Him to answer you.

When you read this whole section of scripture, it really does sound like Peter has a tone of celebration even though he is talking about persecution. We must try to remember, in times of trial and suffering, that everything is not really centered on us. There is much going on within the Kingdom of God, and I am not always the main character. I am a character, though, and therefore, I must be content to be used to resolve the conflicts and affect the outcome in the master plot. The Author is infinitely wiser than I , and if I am to help His story along, then rather than wishing to tear out all the pages I don't like or mark through, like an angry child with a red crayon, all the lines I cannot understand, I must keep turning the pages in joyful anticipation of what He will do next.

That we can learn to celebrate in the midst of persecution is a great mystery, to be sure, but it is the way that Jesus Christ is revealed to the world.

[From Broken Jar: 365 Days on the Potter's Wheel]

SOMETHING BETTER THAN AN ENCORE

"And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into His likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit."
- 2 Corinthians 3:18

One of the hardest lessons I have ever had to learn is that I don't need all the encores my heart so fervently desires from God. When I am on that downhill thrill of the roller coaster ride, hands thrown up into the air, face plastered backwards into a perpetual smile, tears of mirth freely flowing, I instinctively yell, "Encore, God! Let's keep doing THIS! I like where I live now! I like this relationship now! I like this job, these people, this town, this church, my kids and grand kids this age. You're doing great, God; don't change a THING! Let's not be messing with perfection or trying to fix something that 'ain't broke.' " But in the past few seasons, I have learned--albeit the education came in spite, or as a result of, my white-knuckled death grip-- a couple of things about encores that have changed my attitude of persistence.

Number one is that we were never meant just to mark time. We are meant to march forward from one degree of glory to the next. When glory has just seized me and filled me to the gills, I cannot imagine how there could be a next degree still out there somewhere. How could I possibly reflect God's glory any better than I could in this good-feeling, mind-expanding, heart-caressing condition? Isn't that what we are supposed to be wanting to do--reflect God's glory the best we can? That's what the scripture says. (This kind of thinking is probably the origin of such familiar exclamations as "Just let me die right now! I have everything I could possibly ever want. I have no need to go any further. I'm ready to go!" )

I somehow keep forgetting that I am dealing with a God whose plans and provisions are not limited by anything like weather or health conditions, age, looks, or talent. His plans and provisions are limitless! Therefore, when I want to freeze the moment and believe that any step I take away from where I am right now would be a step in the wrong direction, I am trying to put limits on an unlimited Benefactor. "...No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him--but God has revealed it to us by His Spirit" ( 1 Corinthians 2:9). ( Now, I don't think this means that His Spirit has revealed to us all the details, just the fact that what is up ahead is a far sight better than anything that we have seen or experienced so far.) True, the roller coaster will have to slow down and do some climbing, but miraculously, this thrill seeker is learning-- and I hope if you are one of me, that you will learn it too-- that the glory that can be revealed in the slow and laborious journey up can equal and even exceed the one we wanted to can for our continued enjoyment. God has enough new experiences to last my lifetime and more; He certainly does not need to keep pulling the same old rabbit out of the same old hat. Accept change from His hand without fear. Let Him be God.

Number two is that I don't need the encores because I don't have to lose what just happened or where I am right now. I have been given ( at least for today!) the ability to remember. What a lovely word "remember" has become to me! My memories are my greatest possessions. I have grown acutely aware of when I am in the midst of making a good one, and I am becoming, with the God's Holy Spirit, better and better at engineering and constructing memories. I love to watch them pile up and snuggle together into a beautiful myriad of shapes, textures, and colors. They are mine to take out and relive as often as I like. I savor them with delightful relish. In fact, I have come to believe that our memories are really the most important part of the whole event. The "real" event-- when it is happening-- is only for the moment, so that what "really" happened and how we "really" felt don't matter nearly as much as how we remember it happening and how we remember feeling. Perception, in this respect, really is everything. The memories are what become real for the rest of our conscious lives, and how we process the memories is what most greatly affects how we respond to our past and thus how we move ahead into our future.

So God in one sentence says, " No encores! You do not need to stand still! Move forward with me into my visions for you." And in the next sentence, He says, " But I am not taking away the good things that have come to you. They are yours to enjoy forever."

"Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart." -Psalm 37:4

SHAMEFULLY DELIGHTED AGAIN

"A Bird in Hand"
A wild painted bunting caught in my feeder; a free gift from God-- what life is really all about!


This morning in preparation for a ladies' class, I was studying Matthew 6:25-34, the part of Jesus' Sermon on the Mount that concerns worrying. A couple of new thoughts came to me, as new thoughts on old subjects so often do when studying God's Word.

One of the questions in this study* was "What are some common reasons why people worry?" I I fairly quickly filled in my blank: having enough money to keep a roof over our heads and to feed our families, losing our honor, whether we might inadvertently (or impulsively-- out of selfishness)hurt, disappoint, or neglect people. Then it hit me that maybe I had misinterpreted the question because this question had been covered in last week's chapter. Maybe what it really was asking was not what are common things that people worry about, but rather exactly what the question said: What are some of the common reasons why people worry? What- way down deep inside- makes us worry? What is that mechanism? What is the thought process?

Now, for a Christian, this is a question worth asking. I came up with three of my own:
1. I think there is something I could/should be doing but either I don't know what, or I know what, but I don't want to do that.
2. I am afraid I might not be tuned in to God closely enough to hear or see His guiding hand.
3. I don't trust myself to look honestly at what He is telling or showing me.

Ironically, then, I am less likely to worry when I have absolutely no control over my situation and I absolutely know that I do not. The worrisome times are those when I have some influence, some leeway to make some decisions, when what I decide might have a lot of impact on what hangs in the balance. This caused me to scratch my head and think about the blessedness of being at the end of my rope, of reaching the last resort, of the times when I come to the end of myself. But the reality is that most of life is not like that. Most of the time we are in places of decision. Sometimes those crossroads require a finely-tuned spiritual discernment. At those times when we seem between a rock and a hard place- the devil and the deep blue sea- we need to have a storehouse of God's wisdom to draw on. If I don't discipline myself daily to seek God's counsel-- even though I might not need a whole lot of it for that particular day of activities-- then when the tough times of decision come, I will not be ready. There is so much of the world's gravity pressing in all around and all the time; if we do not not fight back in an aggressive way we will not be able to make spiritual headway. I have lived through some times that have taught me never to think the weather is going to stay calm all day long just because the sun rose that morning into a cloudless sky. Storms can blow up suddenly. We must be ready.
And we must collect that readiness in the times when we are not particularly desperate or in dire straits. We must use the calm to prepare for the storm.

The second new thing I learned this morning was what Jesus might have meant when He asked the question, " Is not life more important than food and the body more important than clothes?" (He had just finished saying, "...do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink, or about your body, what you will wear.") I guess all those other hundreds of times I had read this, I had focused so much on his command that I didn't pay any attention to this question He asked next. When I finally did this morning, I came up with an answer that gave new depth and dimension to this old, familiar passage that I thought I had pretty much figured out. Maybe Jesus is wanting us to think about what else life really involves besides just food and clothes. What about life can we enjoy apart from its tools and trappings ( food and clothes)? Those are just the accouterments, the accessories of life, not really life itself. Life itself is all about things that don't necessarily even require money, activities that are free for all-- like laughter, like listening to each others' stories, like watching our children and grandchildren play and learn new things, like visiting and revisiting, as often as we like, all those beautiful memories we have stored up, like enjoying God in nature, like lending a helping hand to someone who desperately needs one. Our lives, our bodies were given to us by God not just to be fed and dressed up but to be used and to be enjoyed. We all know this-- this is not rocket science-- and yet we can so easily fall onto the treadmill of using all our energy and worry over the accessories that we forget that there is a whole lot more to life than survival. Even those who are so busy or overworked that they feel like they are doing well just to survive need to rethink their days' activities: Wasn't there at least a little bit of time when an encouraging word could have been spoken in that busy work day? Wasn't there a few minutes the face could have turned upward, or outward or the ear and eye been a little more finely tuned to take in something lovely happening outside? Could Ihave lingered a minute over my lunch break to listen to a childhood memory of a friend or coworker? The reason we usually don't do these things is that we are spending those minutes either silently fretting or speaking about our worries over something related to these basic needs Jesus promises us that our Father will supply.

The third thought I had was really not my thought but the thought of Frederick Dale Bruner, author of The Christbook. He writes, " Only when we have been liberated from our own food and clothes-- a liberation devoutly to be desired in Western Christendom-- will we give necessary attention to the food and clothing of the Poor World around us. Thus Jesus' text is not antisocial; it is antiselfish. It does not tell us not to be unanxious about others' food, but to unanxious about our own. It does not preach indifference to society; it preaches a rejection of Christians' unbelieving anxiety about themselves and their circumscribed obsessions. Anxious care is the denial of God; it is acting as if we are alone in the world and that either there is no God or that He does not care." This is why Jesus warns us that we are acting like the pagans when we "run after all these things."

I am always so delighted, so thrilled-- and to be honest, shamefully surprised-- when as I am studying God's Word, suddenly newness flows from the old and from the familiar flows enlightenment. I am ashamed that I keep being surprised because I "know" and have taught for years that "the Word of God is living and active." It's a lot like yeast. Its message can always be depended upon to bring nourishment, but the size and dimension of it is ever new. It swells and changes shapes so as to fit into the current size hole we are dealing with and to shed light into the current blind spot we find ourselves in. A different perspective for a different day and need. Always living, always active, never stagnant, never used up, never just a bunch of pages between some protective covers. Of great import. The Word of God.

BEING A MIRACULOUS SIGN

Today's blog is dedicated to the memory of my friend, Christy Lewis, who walked around on this earth being a miraculous sign until Jesus took her Home on July 13.

"This is a wicked generation. It asks for a miraculous sign..." Luke 11.29

Though style may be optional, that we become rescuers is not. If we have been rescued from the grave, gratitude should prompt the kind of desire to obey our Savior and Master that compels us to throw out the only Lifeline there is, remembering all the time that it is He who is the Lifeline and we are only the thrower-outers of it.

Jesus performed many miracles in His short ministry, but His main purpose was to point the people to the Answer to all their needs, not just the one that was clamoring at the moment. Remember how indignant the people became when instead of healing a man's legs first, Jesus chose to proclaim that his sins were forgiven? He asked the question, "Which is harder, to heal a man's legs or to forgive sin?" In the end, He did both. His point was that we are shallow and foolish seekers who ask for a limb to be bound up while ignoring a dying root. After healing someone, Jesus didn't ask all of them to go out and heal other legs or eyes or stomachs. Jesus, rather, wanted the recipients of His miracles not necessarily to go out and do miracles but to go out and be miracles. That way, when others saw a life victorious over lust, greed, worry, envy, pride, and the like, they, too, would want to be healed in those ways. They would want to know and follow this Great Physician. Following the Great Physician is the crux of all matters and the desired product of all miracles.

Once Jesus was summoned by two sisters to come quickly and heal their brother Lazarus, one of His dearly loved friends. His response to this was ,"This sickness will not end in death. " Most of us know the end of the story: Jesus lingered where he was four more days before making it to Bethany and finding a dead Lazarus who was already stinking. On this occasion, Jesus decided to use the circumstances to glorify the Father by bringing credence to His Son: He raised Lazarus from his dead physical state and restored his former physical life. Therefore, many of the onlookers put their faith in Him.

But even if Jesus had not raised Lazarus from his dead state to a living state, what Jesus said would still have been true: Lazarus' sickness would not have ended in death. (It is interesting, and maybe even helpful, to note here that when Jesus spoke of a believer's death, He customarily called it "falling asleep," not "dying." "Dying " was a term reserved for what we call "the second death.") Lazarus had "fallen asleep" and was enjoying eternal life! Every time I read this story, I feel sorry for Lazarus, whose body might have been stinking, but whose soul certainly was not. In fact, those four days were his best days ever! I have even wondered if the fact that Jesus was about to interrupt this lovely new Life might have been at least part of His reason for weeping! It is also interesting to note that this occasion is a close parallel to the one I mentioned a few paragraphs earlier with the lame man: Here, too, before Jesus performs the lesser, but more visible, miracle of healing/restoring the flesh, He makes sure to instruct the listeners about the deeper, more lasting-- but less flashy-- miracle of restoring the soul. In the lame man's case, He spoke of forgiving sins; in the case of Lazarus, He confronted Martha with these words: "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die." We know He is not promising Martha that no one who believes in Him will ever literally die, but rather is referring to the death of our souls. Only after He has made this clear, as before with the lame man, does He deliver the miracle that everyone wanted to see at that particular moment.

There is an ongoing controversy in these latter days about whether or not not people are still endowed with the ability to perform the kinds of miracles Jesus and some of His followers performed. However, there is nothing debatable about whether or not His followers should be miracles. We are instructed to be a "peculiar people," "sanctified," "a people that are my very own," " a holy priesthood," and "a royal priesthood," just to list a few descriptors of the picture of a Christian. We have been redeemed by the blood of the perfect Lamb of God. We have been raised to walk in newness of life. In short, we should look different, even odd. The world should look at us and scratch their heads.

When people watch us live, do they notice that we are not acting, reacting, and responding the way we "should" be-- meaning, the way the World usually does? Are we a living testimony to the power of the resurrection of Jesus?

Ours, too, without a recognition of our Savior, is a "wicked generation"-- a skeptical generation, a generation of creatures who begin losing hope at an early age and harden as they grow older, trying everything under the sun to quench their desires and to give their lives some kind of meaning. Most of them, having failed to find it, pass on the next generation their skepticism and hopelessness. We are God's primary sign to this wicked generation.

God wants to make something supernatural of us. Is your life a miracle?

[I lost a friend last week. Her flesh fought a hard and admirable battle, but finally she fell asleep. Many of us prayed hard that she would once again, as she did a few years ago, beat the cancer, rise up from her sick bed, and go back to teaching school and playing with her darling new granddaughter. Some believed almost to the very end that the scripture, "This sickness will not end in death" would apply to Christy. I hope that today's words will help them all to believe that indeed it did. Christy was a Christian. In all the ways that matter the most, her sickness did not end in death but in victorious eternal life!]

Where Do You Anchor Your Hope?

The before and after of a clematis: the loveliness of last week is a skeleton today.



"If they obey and serve Him, they will spend the rest of their days in prosperity and their years in contentment" (Job 36:11).

What do such words as this really mean? Can it all be as simple as it sounds? Here might be an even better question: How can this particular person, the tortured Job, give such a far-out testimony? All of his days were certainly not spent in what most of us would call prosperity and contentment. And notice that Job said this in the middle of his story, after he had been beleaguered with ruined health and destroyed family and goods, and before God gave him "twice as much as he had before."

Why twice as much? I have heard many say, "That wouldn't have helped me any! Everybody knows that getting another child- no matter how much you love that child- can ever take away the grief or 'make up for' losing the one you lost." But we need only to keep reading to learn that it must have worked for Job because verse 12 says ,"The Lord blessed the latter part of Job's life more than the first." I interpret that to mean that Job was happier, more contented, more fulfilled in the latter part than he was in the first part. Did his spiritual blessings correspond with his physical blessings? Was he more spiritually blessed because he was more physically blessed? I don't think so. I think he learned something about the goods of this world that enabled God ( if you can strain your imagination a little to get what I mean by the Lord of the Universe being "enabled" as though there is some greater enabler above Him... ) to grant him not only more children (and beautiful ones, at that!) but also better health and more possessions. Perhaps after he had learned to proclaim what he did in verse 36:11, he could have owned the whole world and still taken it lightly compared to what he possessed as a child living in the hand of the one Holy and sovereign God.

Listen to 1 John 2:15-17: "Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For everything in the world-- the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does-- comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever." He is saying that by loving the world we cripple our ability to love, and thus obey, the Father.

Why? Does this necessarily have to be true? J.I. Packer, in his wonderful little devotional book, Great Joy, explains it in a way that hits me between the eyes:

"Love of the world is egocentric, acquisitive, arrogant, ambitious,
and absorbing and leaves no place for any other kind of affection.
Those who love the world serve and worship themselves every
moment. It is their full-time job. And from this we see that any-
one whose hopes are focused on gaining material pleasure, profit,
and privilege is booked for a bereavement experience, since, as
John (v. 17) says, the world will not last. Life's surest certainty is
that one day we will leave worldly pleasure, profit, and privilege
behind. The only uncertainty is whether these things will leave us
before our time comes to leave them. God's true servants, however,
do not face such bereavement. Their love and desire center on the
Father and the Son in a fellowship that already exists (cf. 1 John 1:3)

and that nothing can ever disrupt."

What is happening to us now-- what we own, the titles we aspire to, and the pleasures we enjoy-- therefore, must be prayed over diligently. We must pray seriously for discernment concerning it all. We must take care to learn and keep learning whether we are allowing our love of all of this to become our ultimate hope. Herein lies the snare. None of this can become our hope, because none of this lasts. John and Job both seem to be warning us about these temptations to allow our hope to be built upon the hopeless; they seem to be recommending to us a continual assessment of our true focus so that we can redirect it to the only One who holds in His hand our eternal assignment when we are finished with this fast-fading life.

"All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field. The grass withers and the flowers fall because the breath of the Lord blows on them... but the word of our God stands forever." Isaiah 40:6-8

A Visual on My Father

My grandchildren (clockwise from upside down Bryson, Callie, Eli, Joel, Allison)

The other day I was watching a movie in which spies were talking to other spies on their cell phones. I got tickled for the thousandth time about the way people like that, as well as policemen and the military, use their own gussied-up language (usually pointlessly elongated) to say mundane things. The one I noticed that day was "I don't have a visual on him," meaning simply, "I can't see him." I decided it might be funny if I started talking like that and made a mental note to use that terminology soon in some everyday conversation with some unwitting friend or family member. Tuck that away for a minute.

I have been doing a lot of pointed praying the last couple of weeks. Been talking really honestly with God about some of the things I am confused and concerned about. The confusion and concern has lasted longer than I am comfortable with since, as a Christian, I have been graced with such gifts as the indwelling of the Holy Spirit and loaded with such benefits as being the daughter of the King of the Universe, the one and only Almighty and omnipotent God! Thus, lately I have been asking Him some specific open-ended questions to which I have hoped He wouldn't mind giving me some specific and definite answers. Mindful of James 1:6-8 , I made a point of telling Him that I would have my eyeballs and earballs open especially wide in an effort to be ready for His answers. I 'd like to share with you how all that has gone... how, as one spy might say to another, I have been afforded wonderful "visuals" on God at work. (I have also decided that, like the spies and the Army, my sightings are too significant, too ethereal, to be spoken of in any words as mundane as "I have seen Him." No, I have definitely been getting "visuals" of God as He has faithfully answered some of my very pointed prayers lately.)

My first pointed request was in the form of a poem inspired in part by a couple of scriptures: "The Lord will give grace and glory; no good thing will He withhold from them that walk uprightly" (Psalm 84:11).
"Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me" (Psalm 51:10-11).

Now that I'm nearing fifty-nine,
I desperately need this heart of mine
To be taken afresh into your hands,
To be molded anew to fit your plans.
Oh, the clay there seems so hard and dry-
I am moved so little; I never cry!
I know you don't want a heartless head.
I'm starving for tenderness; I need to be fed.
True sympathy and empathy I'll need to impart,
So I need to be moved way down deep in my heart.
I desire to feel, but I'm as dry as husk.
My healing will come from no less than your touch.
So won't you please rain on this dry heart of mine?
For I've miles to travel; I'm just fifty-nine!

I said these words were "in part" inspired by those scriptures, but they were brought on, too, by a long time of trying to figure out if something is wrong with my insides. Once a person given to demonstrative emotions, this older me is calmer, much less demonstrative, especially concerning sadness, sympathy, empathy, loss. My abiding joy is deeper than ever, and my laughter, excitement and energy are intact, but the output of tears has lessened dramatically. I am surrounded by friends whose tears flow freely, whether they want them to or not, so I have felt a sense of loneliness as mine have dried, and my heart has steadied. What's wrong? Why have I changed so? Does it show in other places in my life? Am I dead? Some have answered emphatically, "NO! This is a blessing, Jan, not a curse! Give thanks to God and don't get distracted about this." But I needed to hear God say this, so eventually, after stewing and re-stewing, I presented my case to Him in this poem. I asked Him to make known to me if He was displeased with me, if I had become hardened out of some sin I had, from years of neglect, just somehow normalized. I felt like a dark cloud that desperately needed to rain but couldn't. Was my heart providentially calmed in these storms or was it dried up prematurely by prevailing ill winds?

And then my six year-old granddaughter, Callie, came for a week. We frolicked and snuggled, went fishing, deer-watching and frog-catching. Then...she left. Suddenly, I couldn't squeeze her, drink her in with my eyes, and bathe my ears in her delightful little voice and laughter. She was gone, and the memories were so fresh. Achingly fresh. I woke up wanting to find her beside me, but nothing of her remained but a little black teddy bear and dozens of sticky notes with her writing in every color. My heart was rent with longing.

When she had left we had picked up her little brother, Eli, and since he is two, I had to shake off my melancholy, perk up, and be on full alert. Again a bond was formed. For a week, this little guy captivated me with his unique language-- few spoken words but a whole lot of intense gazing into my eyes with earnest earnest entreaties to complete the communication that his words left lacking. And the way he would blissfully fall asleep on my chest with little provocation flooded me with Nana tenderness.

And then, just like his sister, he went back home to his parents. Again I walked around a little lost in the silence of my very orderly house, and listened fruitlessly for "Nina," his unique name for me. Once again, I fell deeply into feeling a kind of loneliness that was almost palpable. Then it hit me: I was getting a visual on God! He had heard my cry and had shown up to give me His answer. He had opened a curtain to let me see and feel a heart that still pumped with appropriate emotion.

My visual on God has given me a better visual on myself. The poem might have bled out a little bleakly onto the paper, but I'll bet if I continued it (maybe I will!), it would have concluded on a different note, much like many of David's who started out in the dark talking about God in third person and then somewhere in the middle having gotten "a visual on God," ended up praising Him in first person. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside the still waters, He restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Psalm 23:1-4.

I have learned at least two lessons from my very pointed prayer:

1. It could be when we undergo a huge change that makes us feel almost like a stranger to ourselves that this is an answer to a long-time prayer request upon which we might have unconsciously lost hope. ( i.e. Yes, for most of my life I was too agonizingly emotional!) Thank you, God, for the rescue from that; I'm so sorry for calling the blessing a curse. My friends were right!

2. Maybe God is saying to us modern day psalmists, as He was to the old-timey ones, that how visual He is to us depends upon how auditory we are to Him.

HEART SURGERY

"For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. Nothing in all creation is hidden from God's sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of Him to whom we must give account." Hebrews 4:12-13

Heart surgery is a time-consuming and critical process. The sharp scalpel cuts deeply, and the bleeding is profuse. One could die in the midst of this procedure whose goal is to restore normal and safe living.

And yet, no shortcuts can be allowed; the entire tedious and painstaking distance must be accomplished to restore this life-sustaining organ to its original design and function. No shortcuts-- even though the healing process will take much longer and be much more painful when the cuts are the deepest, to repair the most serious damage. Some, being warned about the pain, the danger, and the long period of recovery and convalescence, choose not to go through it, though the doctor pleads, explaining in vain that a reasonably secure life cannot be had without it.

And although the doctor might even attempt sometimes to explain the malfunction and the procedures he will use to correct or alleviate the problems, the patient rarely fully understands, never having been a heart specialist or surgeon. She must decide whether to trust the doctor and submit, lie down on his table and be cut into, or decline, and limp through the remainder of her life in an unwhole and precarious condition.

It is all so easy to see when we put it this way. Most of us, after thinking seriously about the alternatives, choose to have the surgery. We choose to entrust our lives to basically a stranger who will cut into our organs and do whatever he chooses, rather than the alternative of having our lives cut short. But the Great Physician comes to us in His Word pleading His case for our spiritual health. Page after page he admonishes us to get that death threat we are harboring taken care of , to let His sharp scalpel cut out the malignant intrusion that is little by little, day by day, eating away the life of our spirits.

That's the way most people lose their spiritual health-- not in one huge leap off God's bandwagon but by sliding a foot off, then a leg, a hip, and finally lowering themselves another few inches onto the world's highway. Today come to the Doctor and ask to be diagnosed. Take the medicine, get the surgery, take the cure no matter how long and slow the healing process might be. The truth is that although our bodies will die, all souls live eternally. Hopefully, that is good news to you! If it isn't, the Doctor is in.

"knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened." Matthew 7:7-8

-from Broken Jar: 365 Days on the Potter's Wheel