Fight!

Catch a glimpse!

Open your eyes!

You think it's a slide.

What if it's really a tug?

Sometimes we run.

Sometimes we sit.

Sometimes we are blind.

Sometimes we think we see.

Wake up sleeper!

Arise lame one!

You are content?

What if you are being slowly killed?

This is a battle.

We already know the end.

The Creator will win.

Normalcy is the screen for deceit.

Fight! Fight! Fight!

Your strength will fail.

Assume your Redeemer's strength.

It's not just life.

It's not just a choice.

Every moment, every second.

Fight!

You are frail?

You are weak?

The Lion and Warrior leads.

For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armour of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand (Ephesians 6:12,13).

We are living in an epic battle. The only waiting and resting we need to do is IN Christ. Labour and fight to enter into His rest (Hebrews 4). Live life on guard, with your armor on and your weapon ready (Ephesians 6).

"Behold, the Lord GOD comes with might, and his arm rules for him; behold, his reward is with him, and his recompense before him." (Isaiah 40:10)

Unavoidable

This nagging powerlessness –

Answer to every screaming question.

Drumming realization --

Always beneath the surface.

The mystery of pain --

Heart striking rock after rock.

Peace in the quite pools --

Breaking into waterfall.

Sure, Swift, Relentless

Smashing of current –

Broken into shards --

Waterfalls, Rocks, Whirlpools.

The diamonds of sparkling light –

Dancing on the water.

Glory in pain --

Unstoppable, Sure, Beautiful.

In The Presence of Jesus

****************

No place I have to arrive.

No mountain to climb.

No shame to hide.

No perfection to attain.

No performance to give.

No role to play.

No energy to provide.

No smile to fake.

No words to explain.

*****************

“He sees all and loves me still.”

Living life with Jesus is not about doing, it’s about being. Being and living out my new identity. My identity; Christ in me, me in Christ. He does all the work.

"... One of these little ones..."

Over the past years I’ve come into contact with an increasing number of people who have been abused as children– physically, spiritually, emotionally, and sexually. Sexually abuse has been the most common.

A friend of mine made me aware of an alarming statistic.

1 of 4 girls are sexually abused before the age of 18.

1 of 6 boys are sexually abused before the age of 18.

It makes me want to scream. Children are so vulnerable, believing, and trusting. Sexual abuse wrecks their trust, shatters their world, and opens their vulnerable hearts to an array of lies from the enemy; leaving most with the deep conviction of their dirtiness and worthlessness. Does Jesus care? Does this break his heart?

Many kids grow up in loving homes with caring parents who may have no clue that their own child has been abused by another family member, friend or even stranger. Originally, I was going to address two things – how does Jesus feel about this, and what can we do. I’ve opted to stick to the first one, knowing that I don’t have the experience/knowledge to adequately address the second question (not that I could ever answer the first issue completely either). I don’t know exactly how Jesus feels about it, but his word gives us some clues to his heart.

Jesus was angry. The temple was his father’s place of worship. The moneychangers and merchants had overrun the temple with their dishonest dealings and commercialism. Jesus came in and saw what they were doing and he turns over the tables and drives the animals out with a whip. "Get these out of here! How dare you turn my Father's house into a market!"His anger was not the anger we often see, the selfish, hurtful kind. It was pure, completely good, and full of true justice.

You may be wondering why I refer to this event. Jesus showed righteous anger at the men who turned the temple into a place of thievery and cheating. Anger is a characteristic of Jesus. In the following verses Matthew describes what Jesus did next; he healed the lame and sick, then listened to the children as they shouted praises to him. Jesus valued the hurting and the children’s praises.

In another verse we catch a glimpse of something else that makes Him angry.

“But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea” (matthew 18:6).

A few months back I read an exposition of this verse, I had never really thought much about it before. The book caused me to look further into the verse.

“offend”

1) to put a stumbling block or impediment in the way, upon which

another may trip and fall, metaph. to offend

1a) to entice to sin

1b) to cause a person to begin to distrust and desert one whom he ought to trust and obey

1b1) to cause to fall away

The definition can apply directly to a child being abused. I think we can safely conclude, that from the word of God – to abuse a child is to cause them to stumble. Of course, the verse applies to anyone who leads a child astray, but for the topic’s sake, I won’t elaborate on that.

Jesus takes the offender’s sin very seriously. He is angry with anyone who causes a child to stumble, so much so, that he says it is better that they put a millstone around their neck and drown in the sea. The same anger that caused Jesus to throw the thieves out of the temple and will one day judge all sin with righteous justice, is seen in Hs words about anyone who causes a child to stumble.

Jesus cares. He cares very deeply about the pain that every abused person has gone through. He does not take it lightly. Matthew 19 contains the story of Jesus letting the children come to him and be blessed and cared for by him. The disciples tried to shoo them away, but Jesus said “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” Jesus always had time for the children, he loves them.

A while ago I was talking to a friend about abuse, we were both mad, and horrified at the wrongness of it all. The pain that ensues, the propensity for the abused to abuse others or retreat into their shells is inescapable. I said that I knew “Jesus hated this and was angry, and one day justice will reign”. After looking into God’s Word. I stand by that.

Psalm 94 starts with “O LORD, the God who avenges, O God who avenges, shine forth.”

Later it says “They crush your people, O LORD; 
they oppress your inheritance. They slay the widow and the alien; they murder the fatherless.”

*****

God’s love and forgiveness reaches out to all the guilty. Every one of us is in that number. His compassion and love reaches out to every person who has been hurt, whose hearts have been broken by sin’s work. His love reaches to every person that has hurt another person. He cared enough to place that sin on his dear Son. Jesus bore it all on the cross.

Jesus died for the abuser as much as he did for the abused. None are too far from his grace.

Isaiah 61 both captures the rightiousness of God, and his redeeming nature. He can take anything broken and restore it and an ugly thing and make it beautiful. He will rebuild the ancient ruins! The abused and the abusers have been ruined, but God loves rebuilding and healing broken people.

Isaiah 61

1 The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,

because the LORD has anointed me

to preach good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners, ^[a]

2 to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor 
 and the day of vengeance of our God, 
 to comfort all who mourn,

3 and provide for those who grieve in Zion— 
 to bestow on them a crown of beauty 
 instead of ashes, 
 the oil of gladness 
 instead of mourning, 
 and a garment of praise 
 instead of a spirit of despair. 
 They will be called oaks of righteousness, 
 a planting of the LORD 
 for the display of his splendor.

4 They will rebuild the ancient ruins 
 and restore the places long devastated; 
 they will renew the ruined cities 
 that have been devastated for generations.

5 Aliens will shepherd your flocks; 
 foreigners will work your fields and vineyards.

6 And you will be called priests of the LORD, 
 you will be named ministers of our God. 
 You will feed on the wealth of nations, 
 and in their riches you will boast.

7 Instead of their shame 
 my people will receive a double portion, 
 and instead of disgrace 
 they will rejoice in their inheritance; 
 and so they will inherit a double portion in their land, 
 and everlasting joy will be theirs.

8 "For I, the LORD, love justice; 
 I hate robbery and iniquity. 
 In my faithfulness I will reward them 
 and make an everlasting covenant with them.

9 Their descendants will be known among the nations 
 and their offspring among the peoples. 
 All who see them will acknowledge 
 that they are a people the LORD has blessed."

10 I delight greatly in the LORD; 
 my soul rejoices in my God. 
 For he has clothed me with garments of salvation 
 and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness, 
 as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest, 
 and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

11 For as the soil makes the sprout come up 
 and a garden causes seeds to grow, 
 so the Sovereign LORD will make righteousness and praise 
 spring up before all nations.

The Living Judge

The wheels bumped along the partially paved road. It was beautiful, the sugar fields out the right window where green and lush. A lone man bent over in the field. Horns blared as motorcycles passed the Sumo, and the Sumo passed wagons. We peaked our heads out the windows, laughing and marveling at the many bizarre scenes we passed.

We all sang - Any hymn that came to mind, any praise song we all knew. When we starting winding down the steep mountain road that went through the “tiger preserve” (real tigers!?), we bellowed “Rocky mountain high… you’ll always be home sweet home to me…” . We stopped at Pastor Gabriel’s church, where tears misted our eyes at the sight of a blind man who could not see, yet had faith that one day he would see. He worships and proclaims the Gospel to the people of the surrounding villages, and thinks nothing of his blindness.

As we continued toward the mountain-town, the conversation turned to the near state of Orrisa. I had not realized we were so close to Orrisa. I remembered reading articles in Voice Of The Martyrs and other news sources about the riots and murders, where hundreds of Christians were killed and countless churches were burned. It hit me hard. No longer was Christian persecution across the globe. It was down this road. Over the next mountain and only two hours in the car - I could stand where the blood of martyrs had stained the ground. The reality was sobering, it was stilling and awing.

Daddy M. answered our questions as we spoke about persecution and how the Christians dealt with it. He told of those who had gone to help the suffering, and others who had forsaken the name of Christ to escape death. He spoke of those who gave their life for the sake of the One who had given all for them. The Sumo was quite as the seriousness and reality of our Indian sibling’s suffering settled in our hearts. He told of pastors violent deaths, families torn apart. Looking back, I don’t remember a whole lot of the details, but there was one moment that is cemented into my heart. As we discussed the continuing challenges that Christians face from their persecutors, the situation seemed so hopeless and awful. Than Daddy M. said in his calm and serene voice -

“Who can stand before a Living God?”

To say God pierced those words into my heart is an understatement. The Living God, who can stand before him? The horribleness of the persecutors actions, and sorrow of the Christians suffering dimmed in light of The Holy Judge’s justice and holiness.

One day, the martyrs will no longer ask “how long?” One day, the earth will be filled with the glory of God. One day, all will be judged - the righteous and the unrighteous. Those “Of whom the world was not worthy” will hear their Father say “well done”. One day, all the wrongs will be righted. One day, Amos will see the fulfillment of his desire “But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!”

Ambivalence Returns

The place on the narrow trail was familiar. She would have said “déjà vu”, but there was no one there to say it to. She stopped, looked around, and urged her brain to remember. Suddenly, it all made sense. This, was indeed the same trail, but much had changed. The trees to her right were the same, yet lichen and vines now covered the aged bark. The grass that once grew by the trail was now a high hedge of bushes, vines, briars, and weeds. As she scanned the trees on the left, her eyes settled on a small blue flower, the kind that is trumpet shaped and grows on a delicate green vine with heart shaped leaves. The flowers – they were the same.

The urge to run was strong, but the urge to slow her pace and stare at the surrounding woods was stronger. Her mind shifting into remembrance mode and suddenly it all came rushing back like a wave over her.

“Why, Why am I here again?”

a

m·biv·a·lence

 

–noun

1.

uncertainty or fluctuation, esp. when caused by inability to make a choice or by a simultaneous desire to say or do two opposite or conflicting things.

...

"somehow we have overlooked the fact this treasure called the heart can also be broken, has been broken, and now lies in pieces down under the surface. When it comes to habits we cannot quit or patterns we cannot stop, anger that flies out of nowhere, fears we cannot overcome, or weaknesses we hate to admit--much of what troubles us comes out of the broken places in our hearts crying out for relief.
Jesus speaks as if we are all brokenhearted. We would do well to trust His perspective on this."
— John Eldredge (Waking the Dead: The Glory of a Heart Fully Alive)

No. Yes.

How is it that I have a hard time saying No to people, yet I have a hard time saying Yes to Elohim?

Why do many of us have a hard timing saying No to people? Fear. I will not apply to everyone, because everyone is unique. But I wish to be well loved and appreciated; I can obtain this by doing whatever others want me to do. Saying No, means looking bad or losing an opportunity to gain acclaim from others.

When Jesus calls and I either ignore or do not obey the call. I say No to Him. His Spirit gently calls in His still small voice….

“Come, talk to me about this. Ask me first, not after you have talked to everyone else.”

“It’s not in accordance to the heart I’ve given you, say No.”

“Leave this chaos, be still in my presence.”

“Come to me for rest.”

“Fear not, I am with you.”

No

Our No’s are not generally spoken out-right or direct rejections of Jesus. But, how often do you sense his call, and in your inaction, say No.

I say Yes to people because I care about me, and I want to be feel good about myself. I say No to Jesus, because I am prideful.

My Yes to people – empty.

My No to Elohim – empty.

How can I refuse the call that brings me the deepest joy? I don't know, but I do more often than I don't.

Hope. It’s the fuel for story and purpose. When it’s lost, the colors fade. Everything tastes a little more bland. The breeze doesn’t make your heart swell. After a while, your perceptions seem normal, and you forget there ever were rich colors and flavorful food, the breeze is only an annoyance.

We all hope for small things. But, have you lost the one hope that makes all other hopes fall into perspective?

Your story, if seen through the right eyes, can be an adventure filled with challenge and experience. The story only makes sense when seen with the end in sight. The end is full of just enough mystery to make it exciting, and just enough certainty to keep it worthwhile. The best part – you are never alone in your story.

If you are losing hope, maybe you need to find, “God in the shadows”.

“Cuz I still haven’t found what I’m lookin’ for…

Every time I here Damian Rice sing "I still haven't found" it makes sense to me. It's such a human cry.

Are we all searching for something?

The next turn in the road, a “lucky break”, an adventure, an exciting ride, peace, appreciation, love, validation, assurance that you “have what it takes”, meaning, joy, the “pot of gold at the end of the rainbow”, home, your place in the world, explanation, security, worth, the knowledge that you are indeed a special and unique individual, purpose.

Maybe we are missing it, because we are looking in all the wrong places.

It sounds like a Sunday school answer –“everything is found in Christ”, or maybe just a Pollyanna explanation for the haunting questions of life. But not only does the Bible answer these questions, the Bible points to The Lord as the fulfillment of our needs.

The Bible says over and over again things like-

“In my presence is fullness of joy”

“Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, I will give you rest.”

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation”

“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.”

"But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.”

Many of these are familiar verses, but perhaps we have for too long spiritualized them or put them in our head-knowledge, and forgot they are also literal.

Do we dishonor our Creator and Savior by saying we give him our lives and worship, yet we look everywhere but in him for what we “still haven’t found”? Do we assume that the unseen end of our desire is earthly?

Honestly, I still haven’t found what I’m looking for. Either because I don’t know what I’m looking for, or I just don’t see what is in front of my face. I have glimpsed it... and the only time I did was in the presence of Christ. Nothing else has ever even come close to strumming that deeper chord.

I’ve “tasted and seen” – The Lord is good. His goodness is tangable… In my human heart, so “prone to wander” I move away from my Lord. But from the Words of God I know - He will fill the God sized void in my heart.

But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. (Matthew 6:33)

You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. (Jeremiah 29:13)

Not there yet.... But on the road.

Anticipation and Remembrance

She looked back. She looked forward.

Christmas Eve. Laying in bed, her new PJ’s on. The excitement and anticipation was like a sweet wave, she could sit and dream of tomorrow forever. When the marrow came, it was wonderful. But was it like she had anticipated?

The days crawled by like the lady bug on the windowsill. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday… finally it was Friday night; tomorrow was the day. She was going horse-back riding. Her eyes closed, her head overflowing with anticipation and wonderment. Her dreams were fitful but sweet – full of horses and cowboys.

There is a space, a void, a gap that exists in all anticipation and remembrance. There is an ideal joy that exists when looking forward and when looking back. It’s like a thirsty-ness or an empty space. Nothing quite satisfies, nothing quite fills. We are fooled into thinking it’s waiting down the road, or we lost it with the innocence of childhood.

When the girl grew she experienced the same things, but in regards to totally different situations. The party, college life, friendships, places. After a while she squelched the anticipation or what could be called, the “inkling of pure joy”. There was a deepness that longed for something so deep and true – pure joy. All of life was only a drop in the bucket. She was craving it, but why waset life wishing for something that didn’t seem to exist.

Day dreaming one day, she remembered the Christmas and the day she went horseback riding. Nostalgia and an almost perfect joy came to mind. But she knew it wasn’t true. Never had those longings been fulfilled – they had only been glimpsed in anticipation and remembrance.

“If I discover within myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world” - C.S. Lewis

Yes, I’m “wasting my life” for something that does exists -- Jesus is my anticipation and remembrance; my home.

Storm

Tired of the fight, tired of the battle.

These people scrape wounds I forgot I had, they touch deeply embedded thorns that were forgotten. Lord, you are calling me. You are asking me to come into your presence. Weary, heavy laden. You give rest. You, the healer of the broken, sustainer of the weak, lover of souls. You, abba call me in this darkness, this storm.

I've begged, I've cried, I've shouted. I hate this storm..... but if it means more of you Abba. It's worth it.

"My child, ask not for the storm to be calmed, but to find me in the storm."

-I found this scribbled from a while back....-nat

~ABBA PURSUES~ (part 2 of "Abba Series")

"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

Matthew 11:28

He was numb. He was tired. He was still. Yet, there was a storm, an invisible storm -- of every evil, lie, pain, hurt and bitter thought swirling together into a tornado. His eyes were empty and cold, but under those eyes -- the storm. The storm had been awakened by this heartbreak of rejection and failure. He mechanically stood and walked down the stairs toward the kitchen. What am I doing? The thought of food makes me sick. He turned and saw the door. The door, his mind blocked the storm for enough time to remember a place. It was a summer evening, when there were fireflies and lemonade. His dad had walked in late and seemed troubled, yet resolute. All he could remember was being hastily put to bed, his dad tucking him in with extra care and hesitancy. The next morning dad was gone. The boy had heard the door close the night before. In the weeks, months, and years that followed, winds of pain, lies and bitterness blew into his heart. He captured the winds and held tightly to them. No one told him the winds lied. It’s my fault, I messed up, something is wrong with me, everyone will hurt me, I’ll never trust again. When the winds were strongest, he would crawl behind the clothes rack in his closet. It was dark and safe. He was alone, the door locked everyone but him and silence out. The silence heard his cries and sobs. The silence wasn’t afraid of the wind like everyone else in his life was. The silence did not comfort, but it did not fear or judge the winds. He began to feel that the winds had not ever been from the outside, but were from him. I’m sorry daddy, I’m sorry it was my fault…. As the years passed, a greater evil occurred. He became cold and numb and forgot about the pain. He felt nothing. He didn’t lose his emotions, but he lost his relational connection. I had trusted and ruined everything…. Mom never talked to him about him leaving. She remained silent on the subject, instead, she obsessed about his education, little league, and social life.

Now here he was. A man. Staring at the door. The silence would listen, the winds had been silent for so many years, nothing could rouse them, they were buried so deep in his being. Now This had somehow cut through it all and awakened the beast. He wanted to run, to go back to the closet where he was safe. Yet here he stood in his apartment, mom had moved out of the old house three years back. The closet is where you go when you were little…. How was it that he felt like that little boy? The return of the winds seemed to transport him back. He walked to the front door and grasped the handle, his friends would be partying tonight. He could leave, or he could face the winds that he had once embraced than denied. He could ask the winds “why”, and ask his heart “what.”. He could face the buried winds that had began to blow. He would leave silence out of the loop this time. He remembered what he had read the night before… “Come unto me all ye that weary and heavy laden….” When he looked up, he heard his True and Faithful Father say…. “come to me…..” there was yearning and deep compassion and love that drew with strong cords the heart of the little boy. He somehow knew that to deny the call of His father would cost him years, he closed his eyes grasped the hand and jumped into the abyss……. As he looked up he knew, there was more than silence in that closet…..The Pursuer had been there. Time passed, he looked back and saw - The One that had once spoke truth and peace to the winds and waves- had spoken again. His True and Faithful Father didn’t judge or ignore the winds, He faced the winds and told the winds they were wrong. Even better, He told the boy’s heart that he was a precious child beloved of an ever-faithful Abba.

At A Glance....

She sits on the curb. Her feet are dirty; you wonder if her feet are ever truly clean. She is surrounded by the world. A vender is yelling about something being a "very good price..." There is a loud radio blaring the music of the land: rhythmic, mournful, and compelling. You smell smoke when a gust of wind blows. They must be burning trash this morning. Someone is always burning trash. You continue walking away from the burning trash and shouting venders. As you look further down the street your eyes are clouded by the haziness; the sunlight is trying to get through the haze. You would think it was fog or smoke, but there is neither the moistness of fog, or the choking odor of smoke. Now there is only a hint of smoke in the breeze. A moterbike whizzes past with three full grown men crammed on. Seeing the exhaust from the bike you realize the haze is smog. What you would expect - soft rays of morning sunlight are not present, rather the haze and ever present odor of exhaust, smoke, and spices. As you walk past a stand you see a man is selling round crispy pastry, boiled in oil. Than you look back at the little girl, she still sits alone, one hand grasped around a burlap bag. She has on an orange skirt with the hem coming out, it appears to have been coming out for many months now. There are stains on the hem and you can see places where the fabric is worn with only a thin layer of weaved threads remaining. Her shirt is too small, showing her skinny brown waistline. She is small and frail, yet strong and almost hardened to the world. Your mind tells you children are innocent and precious, in need of protection. This child seems hardened and strong, yet very broken. The bead work on her shirt seems almost pathetic, beautiful reds, burgundies, purples, and aquas sewn into what was once a rich orange shirt. They seem out of place on a dirty, hungry child. The touch of finery on such a desperate child makes you wonder if she had always lived this way.

Her eyes scan you. Seeming to judge and evaluate every inch of your appearance, and maybe even your heart. You look into her eyes than look away quickly. Those eyes are dark with the deep darkness that is embedded in her soul. Then something in you weeps. How long has she been this way. How long has her heart been in these chains of darkness, confusion, and sin. You want to grasp her shoulders and ask "How long have you been in these chains? Do you even know what freedom is?" you would even go so far as to hold her close, kiss her cheek an whisper "I love you," though you don't know her. But no one would know these thoughts crossed your mind. Because you glance at her as you walk a bit slower, but you don't stop. You are seemingly unmoved by this childs eyes. you walk on.............

This child's deepest need is not a new dress, a full meal, or even a happy home. Rather she needs Jesus Christ our Robe of Righteousness, Our Bread of Heaven, Our loving Heavenly Father.

As you walk on down the street, your busy life ahead, your To Do list in your pocket along with your ticket for your comfortable bubble of a home, it hits you - the WORLD is full of people with the same basic need as this nameless child. Some hide it under smiling faces, rich clothing, rituals, pleasures, diversions, education, or money. Yet the brokenness of sin invades the heart and soul of every living person. The chains of bondage are obvious in this child’s eyes, but even the smiling eyes of your friends are covering a deeper bondage and sorrow.

And than you remember the words of Jesus Christ, the Son of the Living God: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised,

"How shall they hear without a preacher......?"

"Pray ye therefore that the Lord of the Harvest would send forth laborers...."