Fear -- NOT!

     

  "Do not tremble; do not be afraid. Did I not proclaim my purposes for you long ago? You are my witnesses—is there any other God? No! There is no other Rock—not one!” Isaiah 44:8

      I woke up this morning with heart racing. I had been awakened from an anxiety-filled dream by the sound of gunshots-- not at all uncommon in our rural setting. We are surrounded by woods beloved by hunters for their abundance of deer and wild turkeys, and plenty of our neighbors hunt to supply their families with meat. I couldn't do it myself, but I don't object to the practice-- it's as old as humanity, after all, and probably far healthier than the neatly packaged store-bought meat my tastebuds prefer.

      It took some time, however, to slow my racing heartbeat-- one of the complications of my strange illness. Then I began to think over the past few days, weeks, months, years-- not always a good thing, this looking back, yet sometimes we can learn from it. I began to realize that fear has been my pervasive state of mind for far too long, pretty much the 3 1/2 years I have been ill. It may be understandable, yes, considering I have no idea from moment to moment how my body will react to anything or nothing at all, and even worse I don't know why this happens or what to do about it. Will I be able to perform a task I've been looking forward to? Will I be sick afterward if I do? Will I be able to carry out a plan I've made to see family, friend, even doctor, or will my body simply say, "Nope, not today!"? Will I be able to eat, to walk around the yard for a few minutes of fresh air and sunshine? I will only know once I struggle out of my recliner and see how wobbly my legs are today. There's so little left of "me" that sometimes I feel all I can do is cling to the one thing that's become most familiar and dependable-- FEAR.

      But then I looked to my left and saw the beautiful prayer cloth made by a sweet friend way back in this journey: "'Don't be afraid. Just believe.' Mark 5:36" Honestly, my first thought was, "Right! How am I supposed to do that after all this time?" But then the Holy Spirit whispered in my ear, "Look in my Word," so I reached down beside me and picked up my Bible and began searching for the numerous passages saying "Fear not." A quick search told me those exact words appear in the King James Bible 170 times. Could Father God be telling us something? In modern lingo, I told myself, "Ya' think?" and "Well, DUH!"

      The first occurrence of the phrase is in Genesis 15:1, when God told Abram (later, Abraham), "Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield and thy exceeding great reward." With the help of his servants Abram had just rescued his nephew Lot from the clutches of some powerful and evil kings from neighboring territories. We have no indication that Abram hesitated or had the least trepidation about taking on these much more powerful armies in order to save his relative. Yet after the humble herdsman had courageously stepped up, God not only told him not to be afraid, He promised the elderly Abram that he would father a great nation. If you've accepted Messiah Jesus as your Savior, my friend, you have been grafted into that very nation! (See April 8 post, "Jeopardy -- Justified")

      Time and time again God's Word encourages us to step out in spite of fear. How many different nations did Joshua conquer with Israel's small army guided by the hand of the Lord? I can see poor David now-- the boy who had slain the giant-- cowering in caves for fear of King Saul, even after he had been anointed to be the next king (See 1 Samuel 24). Yet David believed God, and when the time was right, he took the throne.  Think of the "Fear nots" associated with Jesus' birth: Elizabeth, Joseph, Mary, the shepherds. 

      When I examine the things I fear, they are barely a blip on anyone's radar in comparison with the history-changing examples above. And yet, our Father comforts me and you, my friend, in our personal everyday struggles, if only we will listen:

     "Even if an army gathers against me, my heart will not be afraid. Even if war rises against me, I will be sure of You."  (Psalm 27:3 NLV)

"For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear. Instead, you received the Spirit of adoption, by whom we cry out, 'Abba, Father!'"  (Romans 8:15 CSB)

"For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." (2 Timothy 1:7 KJV)

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love."  (1 John 4:18 NIV)

And finally, like John in his vision on Patmos, imagine when we see our Lord face to face:

"When I saw him, I fell at his feet like a dead man. He laid his right hand on me and said, “Don’t be afraid. I am the First and the Last...." (Revelation 1:17 CSB)

       Whatever your fears or mine, dear reader, whether they be the state of the world, a deadly virus, or our own personal struggles, I don't intend to minimize the seriousness of all these issues. Let us remember, however,  these assurances from the God of the Universe that fear is not His will for us. As we take down our 2020 calendars and open the door on 2021, let our uppermost thought be, 

"Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."  (Isaiah 41:10 ESV)

 "He must increase, but I must decrease"  (John 3:30)

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Seeking the Light

     

       I woke up this morning sensing it: this beam of Light coming down from Heaven. Yes, I've been in a dark place-- haven't we all? Aren't we all looking for a bright spot in this season-- putting up Christmas lights and taking our drives through lit-up neighborhoods earlier than ever before? Quickly I realized, "Hanukkah must be coming soon!" so I looked it up, just in time it seems, because tomorrow night, December 10 at sundown, is the beginning of this year's Festival of Lights. Years ago I purchased a menorah, when I became startlingly aware of the deep Jewish roots of my Christian faith. For a few years I faithfully lit it, and then I would forget until the Feast was over, so it's been a while. But this year I'm getting out my menorah (and hoping my candles haven't melted), because if there's anything we need right now, it's more light.

      Did you know Jesus, like every good Jew, celebrated the Festival of Lights, also called "Feast of Dedication"? It's right there in John 10: 22-23:

"Then the Festival of Dedication took place in Jerusalem, and it was winter. Jesus was walking in the temple in Solomon's colonnade."  (CSB)

      This is, in fact, one of the several places where Jesus declares Himself to be the Jewish Messiah, as the narrative continues in Verses 24-30:

"The Jews surrounded him and asked, 'How long are you going to keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.'  'I did tell you and you don't believe,' Jesus answered them. 'The works that I do in my Father's name testify about me. But you don't believe me because you are not of my sheep. My sheep hear my voice, I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, Who has given them to me, is greater than all. No one is able to snatch them out of the Father's hand. I and the Father are One.'"

      How appropriate that the Light of the World declare Himself at the Festival of Lights! Why do Christians no longer celebrate this feast? I suppose because most of us are not of Jewish heritage, and yet we must never forget that we are "grafted in."  (Romans 11:19) So why not celebrate the Feast of Lights with our Jewish brothers and sisters as we prepare to welcome the Light of the World this Advent season? Heaven knows we need more Light right now!

NOTE: You can read more about the Festival of Dedication (Lights), or Hanukkah, here: https://jewsforjesus.org/publications/newsletter/newsletter-dec-1998/jesus-celebration-of-hanukkah

And here is a Jewish Rabbi beautifully explaining our connection to it (20-minute video): https://youtu.be/CrHwv46K2tM

      CHAG CHANUKAH SAMEACH! (HAPPY HANUKKAH!)

 "He must increase, but I must decrease"  (John 3:30)

♱

In the Wilderness

       You may think it strange that I've always loved the desert. Perhaps it started with watching Westerns on TV when I was a child, but the first time I ever actually laid eyes on one, entered one, it was almost a religious experience. In its dryness it seemed to burst with life-- I just had to search for it. I loved the stark beauty, the curves and angles of its rocks, the soft hues of tan, ochre, and green. But every now and then there was a surprise of color in a bright bloom springing from a prickly cactus or nestled against a rocky outcropping. There was animal life, too: a spiky lizard, a sinister snake, the contrasting softness of a marmot or ground squirrel. Or maybe it was simply the light. 

      Pastor Kent reminded me last Sunday that we've all been in a sort of wilderness this year. (https://www.facebook.com/125126754258540/videos/3805595656131956) Like John on Patmos, we've ALL been surrounded by the "leprosy" of Coronavirus, put into a "penal colony" of quarantines and isolation, living in uncertainty about the future. But Patmos was right where God wanted John, in a place of few distractions, so that he could receive the great Revelation of the terrible and wonderful things to come. I have a feeling God has us right where He wants us today, too, hunkered down where the best, most positive thing we can do is focus on Him, seek His will every moment of every day, and look for the light in the darkness. But how?

     Think about it: how much more time have you spent this year at home, interacting with family, instead of rushing to all your "normal" activities? You may just have stumbled onto your "creative gene" in trying to find activities to fill the extra time at home: cooking, learning to play a musical instrument, writing about your experiences, photographing nature around your neighborhood, reading good books, building things, art? Perhaps you've reconnected in a deeper way with old friends or family by phone or internet, or explored your ancestry.

      There's one thing I've noticed about desert life: you often have to look hard for the beauty, sort of like looking hard to find meaning in 2020. One of the largest desert plants is the unusual "Joshua Tree," which can grow up to 50 feet tall and live for 100 years or more. Its roots grow extremely deep, up to 36 feet, and very broad, and it reproduces by sending out runners from those deep roots. The "tree" reminded Mormon settlers of the Joshua of the Bible, who held his arms upright for a great length of time to help lead the children of Israel into the land of Canaan (See Joshua 8:18-26). Even though the tree itself may be somewhat unattractive, with its spiky, gangly branches, in Spring it bears huge clusters of greenish-white blossoms, which give off a delicious, peach-like aroma. Think about the result of Joshua's patience: the beautiful land of Israel, the "land flowing with milk and honey."

      Contrast the Joshua tree with another desert-dweller, the tumbleweed. I've actually just learned that tumbleweeds are not a particular species, but several different desert plants. What makes them become tumbleweeds is that they dry up and "let go" or their shallow roots so that they can tumble and roll haphazardly across the sand, carelessly distributing their seeds. They are, however, quite a menace, as they can pile up and block roads as well as creating prefect tinder for desert fires. What a contrast to the serene and stately Joshua tree, whose deep roots keep it anchored through the desert winds.

      Which one do I want to be in this wilderness we're all in today? I'll tell you I spent more than a few years of my life being a tumbleweed, and I'm not proud of it. When I think of the useless, sinful seeds I sowed during that time I'm horrified. But I praise God that I no longer need to fear being thrown into the fire and burned, because through Jesus my sins are forgiven and washed away. Today, I may be gnarled and not very attractive to look at, but perhaps there may come a season when I'll sprout beautiful, fragrant blooms, because I'm deeply rooted in the Source, the Water of Life. What about you?

(Joshua Tree National Monument photo: FreeImages.com)

       "He grew up before him like a young plant and like a root out of dry ground. He didn't have an impressive form or majesty that we should look at Him, no appearance that we should desire Him."  (Isaiah 53:2 CSB)

      ".... And if the root is holy, so are the branches." (Romans 11:16b, CSB)

 "He must increase, but I must decrease"  (John 3:30)

♱

      

Eulogy for a King: A Tribute to My B.F.F. (Best Furry Friend)

      

      If ever a dog deserved to enter the pearly gates it was King Tut. 

      His thick, wiry coat of soaked up countless tears as well as kisses, all the while giving off the brown sugar aroma that never failed to make me smile. That's what he was-- my "Brown Sugar"-- sweet from the moment I laid eyes on him. I still remember: he showed up along with a little black and white companion, but Tut's golden eyes seemed to reach deep into my heart and say, "I'm yours; you need me, and I need you." There was never any question that we would give him a home, feed him, watch him grow, care for him as he grew old and gray. His sister found another home.

      Tut joined our "wild child," Queen Cassiopeia ("Cassie," our first foundling), but accustomed to being the only one, she quickly began to boss him around. He took it all in stride with his gentle spirit, put up with her abuse for many years before she withered away from old age. Her loyal subject until the end, he howled mournfully for hours when we buried her, even though all his life she had bullied him into submission. He took it humbly always, never fighting back. Not long before that Poppy had come along, equally bossy, if not worse. Since Cassie was feeble when Poppy arrived, Poppy quickly took over the "queen" position. Tut just took whatever they both dished out, however undeserved and unpleasant.

      Several years ago he began to develop a growth on his side. For years it didn't change much, and our vet told us it was harmless. Suddenly a few months ago, it seemed to begin growing, becoming larger nearly before our eyes. It became difficult for him to get up or lie down; other than that, it didn't seem to cause him pain. Yet I noticed recently he began to grow thinner, his ribs suddenly showing more and more each day, even though he continued to eat. That horrible growth, it seemed, was taking all the nutrition from what he ate. And yet he continued to go on his daily 3-mile walks, tail wagging all the way. He failed quickly-- a blessing for this sweet creature who put up with so much all his thirteen years. But what lessons I learned from my pet, my gift from God!

      Humility: Tut never seemed to expect anything special, but rather accepted what came to him gratefully, always with tail wagging happily. His daily manna was Purina Dog Chow his entire life, with an occasional meat scrap thrown in, but never expected.  He even seemed content when Poppy became our first ever "indoor dog," while Tut remained on the outside, safe at night in his kennel. In his last days, though his door was open, he chose to stay in the comfort of his house most of the time. (" .... I have learned the secret of being content in whatever circumstances I find myself. I know both how to make do with little, and I know how to make do with a lot. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being content...."  Philippians 4:11-12 CSB)

      Patience:  He waited for us to feed him, walk him, let him in and out of his kennel on our schedule, no matter what the weather. (".... a patient spirit is better than a proud spirit."  Ecclesiastes 7:8 CSB)

      Longsuffering: He put up with so much abuse from two different Alpha-sisters, who always got their way! He carried not only my emotional burdens, but the burden of that huge cancer on his side, making every effort to keep moving in spite of the encumbrance it must have been. ("However, for this reason I obtained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might show all longsuffering, as a pattern to those who are going to believe on Him for everlasting life."  1 Timothy 1:16 NKJV)

      Love: Tut was the very picture of love. I know that no matter how long he had to wait for a meal or to taken out to potty, that sweet creature would welcome me with tail wagging and a smile (if dogs smile), or at least a happily panting tongue and a ready "kiss." Even if I was away for a few days, leaving him in the care of Bill or a friend, he never seemed to mind, always forgiving my neglect, welcoming my attention upon my return. ("Love is patient, love is kind. Love does not envy, is not boastful, is not arrogant, is not rude, is not self-seeking, is not irritable, and does not keep a record of wrongs. Love finds no joy in unrighteousness but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.Love never ends."  (1 Corinthians 13:4-8 CSB)

      It is those last words that are the part of Tut that will never leave me. No one knows if dogs will be in Heaven (Many of us really like to think so!), but I know that, if we live in Christ, love is the one earthly thing that we'll carry with us there. I pray everyone reading this has the same assurance, but if not, take your Bible, read the Gospel of John, speak to a pastor or friend who knows Jesus, message me. Life on earth is very short and unpredictable, my friend, and I promise you, when each of us takes our last breath, we'll stand before God. Will Jesus be standing in front of you, saying, "This one is mine, Father; let him/her in."?

    

King Tut, Queen Cassiopeia, and Poppy

 "He must increase, but I must decrease"  (John 3:30)

♱

O.C.D.

       

My clean (for now) white bathroom.

   I've just finished cleaning my newly-painted all-white bathroom. Anything white is a mixed blessing for someone with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. There's nothing more gratifying than a freshly-cleaned sparkling white bathroom... at least for the thirty seconds after you finish cleaning it and before the first speck of dust falls or the first bug crawls across it! A crisp white shirt looks spectacular for almost any occasion, but aren't they just like magnets for one little drop of coffee or a healthy splash of spaghetti sauce? Fortunately, especially for Bill, my one tiny creative gene allows for a little bit of leeway. I usually hang pictures by sight rather than a measuring stick, but he will tell you, it didn't take him long to learn the "right" way to put the toilet paper in the dispenser!

      I thought this morning, though, as I wiped the last speck from the white sink, perhaps I should really consider a new obsession. What if I became "Obsessed with Christ's Delight"? I think it might make my Heavenly Father smile significantly more than my worry over dust or a spill. After all, His Word instructs us, "Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart." (Psalm 37:4 ESV) Now I don't think anyone would interpret this as a promise from God that He will give us whatever we want (such as a clean white shirt) if we simply delight in Him. As the commentary in Bible Study Tools so beautifully expresses it, "Men who delight in God desire or ask for nothing but what will please God.... Their will is subdued to God's will, and now they may have what they will. Our innermost desires are here meant, not our casual wishes;" The previous verse sheds some light: "Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness." (v. 3) And the following verses, also:

5. Commit your way to the Lord;

trust in Him, and He will act.

6. He will bring forth your righteousness as the light,

and your justice as the noonday.

7. Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him;

fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way, 

over the man who carries out evil devices!"

      Oh my, I'm afraid that seventh verse speaks to that other kind of O.C.D. I have, when I start applying my affliction to others around me, who "just can't seem to do it right" (i.e. my way)! Who knew cleaning a bathroom could result in so many bruised toes? Needless to say, God knew my soul needed cleaning as well. Interesting, too, that I learned this lesson on my knees. 

      The beautiful book of Psalms opens with these verses, which I'm going to try to take to heart as I work toward my new version of O.C.D.:
 

"How happy is the one who does not 

walk in the advice of the wicked

or stand in the pathway with sinners

or sit in the company of mockers!

Instead, his delight is in the Lord's instruction,

and he meditates on it day and night.

He is like a tree planted beside flowing streams

that bears fruit in its season

and whose leaf does not wither.

Whatever he does prospers."

(Psalm 1:1-3 CSB)

 

 "He must increase, but I must decrease"  (John 3:30)

♱

Autumn Angst

      

The blueberries are hinting at autumn!

      Does anyone else have Autumn Angst? It descended on me today, or perhaps it blew in with that brisk and chilly wind that came in the night and lingers this morning. I suppose it's related to Spring Fever, yet it seems different somehow. Yes, it's a restlessness, like Spring Fever, but feels a bit more invigorating and urgent. For me, Spring Fever is almost a relief after the darkness and cold of winter, a sort of sigh that hints of long summer days to come, when stronger sun rays wake the earth from her sleep to bring forth her bounty of blooms, and life itself seems to blossom into fullness and celebration.

      In contrast, the first days of autumn I feel a nudging to get things done quickly.  Perhaps it's the thought that another year will soon draw to a close. Or maybe like the squirrel gathering fallen acorns for her winter's store, I feel a need to gather my stores, fill my pantry and freezer, bake up a storm, before the closed-in days and long, dark nights of winter make me want to hibernate just like the bear! Today I want to go to a nearby farm and discover the perfect pumpkins and chrysanthemums to bring a final splash of color to my fading flower garden.

      How metaphoric of life itself! In the Springtime of youth we never give a thought to how quickly time will fly into the Autumn and Winter of our lives. Each day is so full of living in the moment. Like Solomon we say, "There is nothing better for a person than to eat, drink, and enjoy his work." (Ecclesiastes 2:24 CSB) Until the day comes when we are faced with our own frailty and the awareness of how short life truly is. Sometimes it sneaks in gradually; sometimes it comes like an unexpected cloudburst. 

      But just like the Fall will surely follow the Summer, and Winter the Fall, time passes and life changes. And change is hard, I confess, especially this change in my body and mind from autumn into winter. I can't help wondering if, when I meet my Savior, I will feel my work is done. Will rich fruit be found in the path I leave behind, like the huge acorns and persimmons raining down today from the tall trees in my yard? Will I hear the words "Well done, good and faithful servant?"

      At this bittersweet time of transition in the earth, I think I shall try to embrace with grace the change in my own seasons. As wise King Solomon expressed it,

"There is an occasion for everything,

and a time for every activity under heaven:

a time to give birth and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot;

a time to kill and a time to heal;

a time to tear down and a time to build;

a time to weep and a time to dance...."

(Ecclesiastes 3:1-4 CSB)

 ♱

 "He must increase, but I must decrease"  (John 3:30)

The Broken Branch

       "I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples."  (John 15:5-8 NIV)

      A couple of weeks ago, a tree-sized branch fell from our prized chestnut oak. We have no idea how old this precious tree is, but it is definitely a rare and wonderful homestead tree, and for us it has provided a respite from heat in summer, a playground for our grandchildren in all seasons, a feasting ground for deer throughout the winter, not to mention a year 'round home for who knows how many varieties of birds. 

July 28, 2020

     The "thud" of that huge branch falling still echoes in my head, like the explosion of a distant cannon. When we realized what the sound was, our hearts were shattered with the thought of losing our beloved tree, but then immediately thankful it had happened when no child or critter was playing under it, or we were picking blackberries from the vines it protects. It even missed the benches and potted plants of my "secret garden!"

      As it turns out, the rest of the tree is still healthy, according to our "tree man;" in fact, the part that fell was itself healthy, but what happened was a slow, invisible crack developed where the branch joined the trunk of the tree. Over time, water seeped in and rotted the juncture, then allowed insects to burrow invisibly between trunk and branch, until the huge branch's weight became too much. Almost immediately the leaves of the fallen branch began to wither, and now, two weeks later, the leaves are turning prematurely brown and beginning to fall off. Why? Because they are separated from their source of life and nourishment, the gigantic trunk which has, I'm sure, an even more enormous root system below ground, which is supporting the whole magnificent structure.

August 14, 2020 

      What lessons that broken branch can teach us! First of all, it had grown bigger than all the other branches, probably taking more than its share of nourishment from the trunk anyway, perhaps  thinking (if trees could think) it was a little better or more deserving than the other branches, even trying to make itself as important or stately as the trunk. Ouch! How often do I feel my "issues" or "needs" or thoughts or words are more important than everyone else's? Is that going to make me eventually too big a burden for my friends or family to bear and end up separating me from what is really my life-blood?

      Or have I let worldly or selfish thoughts and actions seep into my life and come between me and my REAL source of life, my God and my Savior? Do I seek His face in prayer and His wisdom from His Word as often as I seek the wisdom of the world on television or Facebook? Am I so wrapped up in my aches and pains or the fears of Covid19 or the economy or the election that I have forgotten the need to fellowship with other believers to keep me strong in battling those fears? Am I still reaching out to others with greater needs than mine to show them Christ's love? 

      I've often had the thought that our "idols" -- sports, entertainment, financial success-- are being torn down in this pandemic. But what if it's more about our personal idols that are coming between us and our Source of eternal life and our true purpose: shining the Light of Jesus into a lost and dark world? I don't want to be that broken branch, tossed into the fire and burned. I'd like to go on living fully, attached to the Vine that has given me life since before I was born. I'd like to keep bearing fruit until my last breath is taken. An old hymn comes to mind as the perfect prayer:

"Dear Lord and Father of mankind, 

Forgive our foolish ways;

Reclothe us in our rightful mind; 

In purer lives Thy service find,

In deeper reverence, praise."

 "He must increase, but I must decrease"  (John 3:30)

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