Ordinary Days -- Surprising Grace

      Last weekend Bill kindly transported me and my necessities to our lake house for a few days, as he has throughout my illness. This time I had a surprise waiting on my screened porch. It's the summer home of two unusual plants I fondly call "George and Gracie." They're both in the cactus family, and so their "leaves" (if you can even call them that) are rather gangly and not particularly attractive. That especially goes for George, which is a night-blooming cereus. He was actually named by a friend who encountered "him" during a winter visit, when "he" was living in the house: my friend was actually rather disturbed by his awkward appearance, which takes up a huge space, difficult to place indoors at all. But I knew Goerge's secret: once a year he produces the most extraordinary bloom I have ever seen. It begins as a tiny swelling on one of his veins, and slowly over weeks, it develops into the oddest shaped bud that just seems to keep growing beyond anything in the natural realm. It's so rare to witness, because it happens late at night and is over by morning. Yes, I admit, it even gives me a bit of a chill to witness this other-worldly production! 

      Well, I knew George had bloomed earlier in the summer, because I had found spent blossoms on a previous visit to the lake. I was surprised and thrilled to discover this time that the plant was gifting me with another show, and from the looks of it I was pretty certain it would be the night after my arrival. Sure enough, throughout the next afternoon and evening I watched the bud stem slowly turn up to position itself for the best showing of its finery. I was especially excited, because I had missed the display the past several years. My patience was richly rewarded: by 9 PM the huge bud started to open, and I began to inhale the exquisite fragrance unlike any other I've ever experienced. Slowly, slowly, the treasure revealed itself and was fully exposed by about 10:00. I went to bed reveling in the sight and smell I had just been privileged to witness. Sweet dreams indeed!

      It's interesting to note that that the "common" name of this plant is "Christ in the Manger." I hope you can see in the photo above that indeed, the outer petals resemble a brilliant star, and nestled inside is what looks like a cradle containing a swaddled baby with a halo glowing around its head. What a perfect representation of our Savior's surprising gift: this exquisite, indescribable grace He brings in such an ordinary package!  And it has to be experienced by each one personally! I can't possibly convey to you in words or even pictures the experience of watching this flowering miracle unfold. Just ask my sister-cousin Margie, who was privileged to share this moment with me last weekend: I could invite her, lead her to the gift, but she had to accept the invitation and experience it herself. She could have stayed home and missed it altogether. 

      Just so, we have the extraordinary Gift of Salvation waiting to reveal Himself to us, if we will only open His Book, then open our hearts. It's nothing special, a book with many different coverings, on ordinary pages of paper and ink. But oh, the treasure waiting to be discovered within, IF we open our hearts and minds to its wisdom. 

      From "The Complete Jewish Bible": Isaiah 53   

2And he came up like a sapling before it, and like a root from dry ground, he had neither form nor comeliness; and we saw him that he had no appearance. Now shall we desire him?		בוַיַּ֨עַל כַּיּוֹנֵ֜ק לְפָנָ֗יו וְכַשֹּׁ֙רֶשׁ֙ מֵאֶ֣רֶץ צִיָּ֔ה לֹא־תֹ֥אַר ל֖וֹ וְלֹ֣א הָדָ֑ר וְנִרְאֵ֥הוּ וְלֹֽא־מַרְאֶ֖ה וְנֶֽחְמְדֵֽהוּ:
3Despised and rejected by men, a man of pains and accustomed to illness, and as one who hides his face from us, despised and we held him of no account.		גנִבְזֶה֙ וַֽחֲדַ֣ל אִישִׁ֔ים אִ֥ישׁ מַכְאֹב֖וֹת וִיד֣וּעַ חֹ֑לִי וּכְמַסְתֵּ֚ר פָּנִים֙ מִמֶּ֔נּוּ נִבְזֶ֖ה וְלֹ֥א חֲשַׁבְנֻֽהוּ:
4Indeed, he bore our illnesses, and our pains-he carried them, yet we accounted him as plagued, smitten by God and oppressed.		דאָכֵ֚ן חֳלָיֵ֙נוּ֙ ה֣וּא נָשָׂ֔א וּמַכְאֹבֵ֖ינוּ סְבָלָ֑ם וַֽאֲנַ֣חְנוּ חֲשַׁבְנֻ֔הוּ נָג֛וּעַ מֻכֵּ֥ה אֱלֹהִ֖ים וּמְעֻנֶּֽה:
5But he was pained because of our transgressions, crushed because of our iniquities; the chastisement of our welfare was upon him, and with his wound we were healed.		הוְהוּא֙ מְחֹלָ֣ל מִפְּשָׁעֵ֔נוּ מְדֻכָּ֖א מֵֽעֲוֹֽנוֹתֵ֑ינוּ מוּסַ֚ר שְׁלוֹמֵ֙נוּ֙ עָלָ֔יו וּבַֽחֲבֻֽרָת֖וֹ נִרְפָּא־לָֽנוּ:
6We all went astray like sheep, we have turned, each one on his way, and the Lord accepted his prayers for the iniquity of all of us.		וכֻּלָּ֙נוּ֙ כַּצֹּ֣אן תָּעִ֔ינוּ אִ֥ישׁ לְדַרְכּ֖וֹ פָּנִ֑ינוּ וַֽיהֹוָה֙ הִפְגִּ֣יעַ בּ֔וֹ אֵ֖ת עֲו‍ֹ֥ן כֻּלָּֽנוּ:
7He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he would not open his mouth; like a lamb to the slaughter he would be brought, and like a ewe that is mute before her shearers, and he would not open his mouth.

      

A Gypsy -- At Home

      I guess I've been a bit of a gypsy all my life, with a wanderlust since I was a child and ventured into the abandoned field behind our modest country home. There I could watch the clouds drift by and dream of magical places far away. 

      My first adventure away from home without my parents was to the N.C. Baptist Assembly at Fort Caswell by the Sea. How grown up and independent I felt at age twelve to be spending a week "on my own" with a group of my peers from church. That place would become a sort of touchstone for me, a place I longed to and did return to again and again throughout my youth, a place to feel closer to my God and Savior. Even now I can go there in my memory to sit atop the fort at vespers beneath the huge cross, basking in the warmth of the soft ocean breeze and the sweet music of a hymn from Joey Overby's gleaming trumpet. "Turn your eyes upon Jesus; look full in His wonderful face..."

      Even then, I would never have imagined that those exotic places of my reveries would become my reality for a while-- that few years when my suitcase and an airport became my home between dream-like visits to such places as Russia, Tahiti, Hawaii, and the hypnotic islands of the Caribbean.

      Though I had given my heart to Jesus at a very young age, even as I wandered the globe I searched, I think, for a "heart home." As I traveled I always said-- and it was true-- "I'm at home wherever I am." I talked to God occasionally during that time, and even attended church once in a while. I'm not proud that that was it-- acknowledging God when it was convenient, while not living at all a godly life. I look back and wonder why my family didn't disown me-- maybe because they did have godly love.

      As I just read Psalm 34, so rich with wisdom for a wanderer like me, I noticed something in verse 7. It reads, "The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear Him, and rescues them." Did you get that? "Encamps" sounds like camping, meaning a temporary dwelling! I've often said that God chased me down in all my running until I finally stopped and let myself be caught. All that time, all those places, the "angel of the Lord" (usually referring to Jesus!) was right there with me, still making His home in my heart! Now THAT'S something to smile about! :-)

Never Enough -- Sufficient

      Before I fell ill, I was doing it all: directing Vacation Bible School, leading a ladies' Bible study, singing in the choir, cooking, shopping, keeping a reasonably clean house, entertaining or going out to restaurants with friends, and loving every minute of it! I even had time to listen to friends' woes or send an encouraging text. But all of my "doing" never seemed enough-- there was always more to be done. Sound familiar?

      Then in the blink of an eye, the curtain dropped and the lights went out. It was literally as if someone pulled my plug out of the wall and my power source was gone: I couldn't even get myself to the bathroom, much less take a shower or brush my teeth. After several weeks of this turned into months with no reasonable explanation or relief, I began to ask God why He had put me into this hell on earth instead of just taking me to His bosom. While Bill managed to hold our life together, all I could do was sit in my recliner, weeping, and singing in my mind, "Oh Lord, You're Beautiful, Your face is all I seek...." (Keith Green).

       At the suggestion of a dear Christian friend, I began listening to instrumental praise songs and found they soothed my constant anxiety. On better days I was able to pick up my Bible and read a Psalm. Did you know the word "praise" appears in the Psalms 150 times, in the entire Bible 259 times, and the word "worship" 265 times! I learned that no matter how bad I felt, I could still find something to praise God for, whether it was the simple beauty of nature I could see outside my window or the birds' songs I could hear in the trees, even the capacity to feel pain. 

      A verse of a beautiful old hymn, "Dear Lord and Father of Mankind," expresses it well:

 "Drop thy still dews of quietness,

till all our strivings cease;

take from our souls the strain and stress,

and let our ordered lives confess

the beauty of Thy peace." 

      And slowly, slowly-- no one can really explain it-- I began to grow stronger. Sometimes praise is sufficient. 

      "Don't worry about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:6-7 CSB)

For further inspiration, here's a link to a wonderful message on Worship by Pastor Mike Whitson of First Baptist Church Indian Trail: https://subsplash.com/fbcit/watch/mi/+c6jbrsg
(I think you'll have to copy & paste; I can't seem to get the link to work directly.)

Brain Attacks -- My Helmet

      The latest theory about the cause of my illness these past two years is a brain stem injury suffered during a fall I had on my dock at the lake. Maybe I should have been wearing a helmet!

      I know Satan attacks me most of all in my brain-- those accusing thoughts of guilt, inadequacy, doubt, discouragement, not to mention all sorts of temptations, usually stemming from my curiosity. But then, why should I be surprised?  What tree bore the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden? The tree of knowledge of good and evil! (Genesis 2:17, 3:1-7)

      Isn't it amazing how God has provided beforehand for all of our shortcomings, and instructed us just how to protect ourselves from falling? Look at Ephesians 6:10-17, where Paul describes the "full armor of God," and pay particular attention to Verse 17. I don't remember exactly when I learned that Jesus' name in Hebrew is "Yeshua," meaning "salvation," but I know that it was one of my most life-changing, or at least thought-changing moments. From then on I began to think of Jesus (from the Greek form of Yeshua) as my Helmet, protecting my mind from evil and damaging thoughts, thoughts that take away my power as a witness to God's glory. At some point nearly every day, whenever those "brain attacks" begin, I find myself praying, "Jesus, be my Helmet!"

      "Behold, the Lord's hand is not so short that it cannot save; nor is His ear so dull that it cannot hear.... Then His own arm brought salvation to Him, and His righteousness upheld Him. He put on righteousness like a breastplate, and a helmet of salvation on His head." (Isaiah 59:1, 16b-17a NASB)