Two ways

Last Friday on my way to a women's retreat I drove through a small town and passed two young men standing on a street corner, each man holding a placard with a Bible verse written across. I don't recall the exact Scripture references but one sign referenced the sure destiny awaiting the wicked, the other the righteous.

Two placards, two ways, two destinies. This sort of polarity is throughout the Bible. In Matthew 7:13-14, Jesus warns of two gates:

Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.

Later in that same chapter Jesus tells the parable of the two houses:

Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it. (Matt. 7:24-27)

In John 15:4-6, we see the contrast of the two kinds of branches:

Abide in me and I in you. As the branch cannot bear bruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine you are the branches. Who ever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gather, thrown in the fire, and burned.

This same polarity is evident in the Old Testament as well. Psalm 1, for instance, contrasts the way of the righteous and the way of the wicked. After describing the blessedness of the man who delights in the law of the Lord and who meditates on it day and night, the psalmist compares the righteous to a tree planted by streams of water and the wicked to chaff blowing in the wind. Finally, he concludes,

the Lord knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish (Ps. 1:6)

Two ways to live, two destinies. Like the signs the two young men were holding on the street corner, there is the way of the righteous and there is the way of the wicked. There is no middle road. There are true disciples and untrue disciples. There is the true vine and there are fruitless branches, the wide gate and the narrow gate. The house on the sand and the house on the rock. The tree and the chaff.

Which are you? Which am I?

If I'm honest, I have to admit I like this sort of dichotomy when we speak of others. But when it comes to me and my own self-examination and I am forced to think soberly about whether or not I abide in Christ and bear fruit vine like the vine of John 15 or if I delight in the Word of God and meditate on it day and night as does the righteous of Psalm 1, I have to confess that sometimes I do, maybe, and sometimes I don't. Sometimes I do just as Psalm 1 warns: I walk in the way of the wicked and maybe I even sit in the seat of scoffers.

What then? How do I reconcile my compromise with the demands of true discipleship?

The answer is, always, Jesus. He is all my righteousness. He completely and perfectly fulfilled all obligations of life and godliness and He bore the wrath of God for sin in my place. Because He died and rose again, He took my sin and I get His righteousness. The true blessedness (Ps. 1:1) that marks the true believer is this unmerited favor, the amazing grace, of God. There is therefore no condemnation for those of us in Christ Jesus!

So to abide, then, as a true disciple doesn't mean I follow Him perfectly but rather faithfully. It means I persevere and in my perseverance I fail but I confess and I repent and I seek and I follow, again and again and again and again, in the strength and sufficiency of the Spirit. This is the way of the righteous and it ends with glory.

The warnings to the wicked are real and true. If you do not know Christ, please, heed them. Turn to the Lord, acknowledging your sin and your rebellion against Him, believe His promise to save you and forgive you and give you life in Him, and you will be saved. You will be righteous and the sure hope of glory with Him is yours forever.

A prayer for the New Year

A prayer for the New Year, from The Valley of Vision...

O LOVE BEYOND COMPARE, 

Thou are good when thou givest,
when thou takest away,
when the sun shines upon me,
when night gathers over me. 

Thou has loved me before the foundation of the world,
and in love didst redeem my soul; 

Thou dost love me still,
in spite of my hard heart, ingratitude, distrust. 

Thy goodness has been with me during another year,
leading me through a twisting wilderness,
in retreat helping me to advance,
when beaten back making sure headway. 

Thy goodness will be with me in the year ahead; 

I hoist sail and draw up anchor,
with thee as the blessed Pilot of my future as of my past. 

I bless thee that thou has veiled my eyes to the waters ahead. 

If thou has appointed storms of tribulation,
thou wilt be with me in them; 

If I have to pass through tempests of persecution and temptation,
I shall not drown; 

If I am to die,
I shall see thy face the sooner; 

If a painful end is to be my lot,
grant me grace that my faith fail not; 

If I am to be cast aside from the service I love,
I can make no stipulation; 

Only glorify thyself in me whether in comfort or trial,
as a chosen vessel meet always for thy use.

Happy New Year, friends! We here at Out of the Ordinary are grateful for you, our readers, and for your continued support and ongoing conversation. May the Lord be glorified in 2016 and always!

 

Surprise and Joy

When the boys were little, they would wake in the wee hours of Christmas morning. Giggling with excited anticipation they would wait at the top of the stairs until my husband gave the all clear—meaning the lights had been turned on, the coffee pot set to brew, and the video camera poised at the ready—at which point they would descend in a great flurry of laughter and shoving and exclamation and hurry to the gifts and surprises that awaited.

It is not so any longer. Now Christmas morning finds my husband and I drinking cup after cup of coffee wondering when—or if—our young men will finally wake up. Instead of toys arranged in front of the fireplace there are wrapped gifts under the tree, gifts that have already been shaken and prodded and guessed at, gifts like clothes and shoes and books and video games, gifts expressly requested and expressly purchased. No real surprises here.

I miss the surprise and the anticipation and the frenzied fun of Christmas mornings long ago. Don’t get me wrong; it is indeed its own kind of joy to celebrate with grown children. Big joy. Good joy. Contented joy.

Ah, but who can forget the sheer unbridled delight of the two year old seeing his very own “Thinking Chair” (a la Blues Clues) in front of the tree on Christmas morning?

I miss it. There are so few surprises anymore. Just this week my friend and I discussed how gift giving has morphed into me giving you exactly what you ask for and vice versa. I understand the desire to give a gift that is wanted and appreciated but I tend to feel a little ridiculous. I mean, I could just buy my own gift and you yours and save ourselves the trouble of wrapping.

I know, I know. My Grinch-iness is showing.

It’s the thought that counts, of course it does. And as much of a Scrooge as I may be, I am happy to help potential gift givers with lists and links.

This past Wednesday at church we discussed the Incarnation, the mysterious surprise of God becoming man. Letting our imaginations take flight we pondered such questions as Jesus learning to walk and talk. Did He get in trouble at school? What about potty training? Can you imagine raising a sinless child? Or being His younger brother?

The Bible tells us that Jesus was ordinary enough that when He began His ministry in His hometown the residents were amazed. “Where did this man get this wisdom? Isn’t he the carpenter’s son?” They were astonished. They had no clue. (Matt. 13:53-57) They had seen Him, they knew Him, but yet they hadn't and they didn't. 

Here is the great astonishment, the great delight, the cosmic surprise of Christmas: the Word became flesh and dwelt among us and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John 1:14) The heart of the Christmas story is the astounding truth of the gospel: we need saving and God came to save us.

What mystery is this, God as man. What surprise, that God would condescend to empty Himself, take the form of a servant, and be born in the likeness of man. And what joy! Forgiveness, redemption, mercy, grace, all ours because of Jesus, because of Christmas.

And we who belong to Christ know the hope of our real life beyond this one, that fullness of joy in the presence of our God forever. We too anticipate a glorious morning when the light will break forth like the dawn and our hope finally becomes reality. Imagine our surprise then!

My Christmas may lack some of the frenetic fun we’ve enjoyed in years past. For some of you Christmas brings more grief than joy. I understand. But there is joy, good news of great joy—good news! great joy!—for unto us is born a Savior, Christ the Lord. Let us ponder Jesus this Christmas. Let us consider the mystery of the Incarnation. Let us wonder over the grace that goes to such measures to save to the uttermost. Let us be astonished and surprised by the joy of Christmas. 

The Lord who fights

The tenth chapter of the book of Joshua opens with the kings in the southern region of the Promised Land forming a coalition to come against the city Gibeon. The men of Gibeon send an urgent plea for help to Joshua and as he and the mighty fighting men of valor prepare for a night march, the Lord once again assures Joshua of victory:

Do not fear them, for I have given them into your hands. Not a man of them shall stand before you. (Joshua 10:8)

It is interesting to note that the Lord speaks in past tense though the battle has yet to be fought! The Lord will be gracious to empower His people and to secure the victory for them. The outcome is assured but the people must step out in confident obedience to engage the enemy.

What follows is surely one of the most interesting passages of Scripture! The author of Joshua reports that after Joshua and his men marched all night long in order to launch a surprise attack, it was the Lord Himself who secured the defeat.       

And the Lord threw them into a panic before Israel, who struck them with a great blow at Gibeon and chased them…and as they fled before Israel while they were going doing the ascent of Beth-horon, the Lord threw down large stones from heaven on them…and they died. There were more who died because of the hailstones than the sons of Israel killed with the sword. (Joshua 10:10-11)

Verse 14 summarizes the Lord’s intervention: “for the Lord fought for Israel.”

Our God is a warrior God! He fought as the victor who crushes His enemy under His feet. In our pursuit of a kinder, gentler Savior, we sometimes overlook the power and might of our Lord who stores up wrath against those who oppose Him. We forget the Jesus of Rev. 19, he who will judge in righteousness and will make war, wearing a robe dipped in blood.

And the armies of heaven, arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horses. From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. (Rev. 19:14-16)

It is this God, mighty and terrible, holy and omnipotent, who fights for His people.

And it is this God to whom Joshua prays in Joshua 10:12 and the Bible tells us “the sun stopped.” Scholars attempt to explain or interpret this miracle as perhaps a solar eclipse or maybe even just poetic license on the part of the author. The emphasis of the text, however, is found in verse 14:

There has been no day like it before or since, when the Lord heeded the voice of a man…

This God, this powerful, almighty, sovereign God, the fierce commander of the armies of heaven, He hears, He listens, He answers the prayers of His people. What kind of God is this? What kind of grace? That the Lord of heaven and earth would stoop down, would condescend to hear and answer the prayer of wicked and sinful me.

I don’t know what your battle is. I don’t know where the enemy is coming against you. I do know this: the Lord’s words of comfort to Joshua are for you too. You need not fear. If you belong to Jesus, the Lord Himself fights for you. And your enemy? His doom is sure and his time is short.

Like Joshua, we too can cry out to the Lord, most especially when the battle is heated and our hearts are heavy. Because of Christ, we can draw near to Him in prayer as His daughters. As His child, ask Him for what you need! He is faithful and He will meet your needs according to His riches in Christ Jesus. He is gracious and He is sufficient.

Just as I don’t know your battle, I also don’t know what your victory will look like.  I daresay it will not be the ease and comfort of your best life now. In fact, it seems to me the victory the Lord most often grants is the perseverance, the grace, to get up and fight another day, another hour, another minute.

We discussed these truths in Bible study on Tuesday. After class my friend confessed through her tears that she is afraid of what the victory may look like. She and her family have endured much for  the kingdom of Christ. She is weary. She fears. And who wouldn't? But her hope is in the mighty Lord who fights for her. He is the fierce warrior, yes, but He is also the gentle Shepherd who comforts her and assures her that she can and will endure.

Glory to God, we have hope beyond this life! Whatever you suffer today as a believer in Christ, you can know that it is only light and momentary compared to the eternal glory that awaits. Keep fighting the good fight, sister. Don’t be afraid. The Lord has given you the victory and He Himself fights on your behalf.

What I Read This Summer: Nonfiction

I am not as prolific a reader when it comes to nonfiction as compared to fiction. I'd like to say it's because I'm pondering and processing as I read but I fear I may just be lazy! But then again maybe not. Maybe thoughtful readers are slow readers.

Slow or not, prolific or not, I did read some great nonfiction books this summer that I happily recommend to you.

HISTORY: Dead Wake: The Last Crossing of the Lusitania by Erik Larson. I've read a couple of other titles by Larson and enjoyed them both, most notably The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair That Changed America. Dead Wake is equally fascinating as it weaves personal stories of passengers on the Lusitania with the political climate as well as the strategical challenges of submarine warfare.

MEMOIR: The Hardest Peace: Expecting Grace in the Midst of Life's Hard by Kara Tippetts. This was hard to read, naturally because of the subject matter and because Kara has now died, but also because of the death of my friend to cancer a year ago. Despite the heaviness, this is also a hopeful book, one that confidently asserts that life, no matter its struggles or pain, is precious because of Jesus and the hope He gives in the gospel.

GOSPEL: From Good to Grace: Letting Go of the Goodness Gospel by Christine Hoover. Christine is writing my story in this book and I loved it and I needed it.

THEOLOGY: The Joy of Fearing God by Jerry Bridges. Okay, so it's not theology like a seminary level theological tome but this exploration of the person and character of God challenged and encouraged me.

PRAYER: Prone to Wander: Prayers of Confession and Celebration by Barbara Duguid and Wayne Houk. I didn't actually read this over this summer so much as I finished it this summer so I'm including it in my list. This is a book of prayers and confessions that I used in my morning devotional time. Each prayer includes confession as well as a reiteration of the gospel with a focus on Christ and His finished work. I found it extremely hopeful and helpful.

Did you read anything you would like to recommend? Let us know in the comments! I know I am always looking for the encouragement of a good book!

What I Read This Summer: Fiction

For the month of September we are talking about our favorite summer reads here at the blog. I will freely admit: I am a voracious reader of fiction. I find great enjoyment and value in a good story well told, no matter the genre. However, as I devour one novel after another, I often find I have a problem: I cannot remember what books I’ve read and if I do remember then I have trouble recalling which ones I liked. Sad but true. This is why I keep a Goodreads account. There I can tally both books read and my rated response.

Checking my Goodreads list of books read this past summer revealed a season of slightly disappointing reads. There were several two stars, and this doesn’t include the books I started but didn’t finish and the book I disliked so very much that I didn’t even list it.

My only five star read of the summer was To Kill a Mockingbird. Which makes sense. Isn’t it a five star for us all? I mean, surely I don’t have to tell you to read it, am I right? But then again if you haven’t, then do. Now. Today. It’s a five star and then some. Trust me.

My love for To Kill a Mockingbird aside, here are a few notable fiction reads from my summer reading. I liked them all even if none achieved five star status…

Wolf Hall. Probably my favorite non-TKAM read of the summer. My only quibble, and at times it was a big one, was so many characters with the same names! Of course, in an historical novel I suppose the author hasn’t much freedom in naming her characters. Some have faulted the novel for its exclusive use of “he” in reference to Cromwell. So long as I could keep in mind that the story is told from Cromwell’s point of view, though in third person (“he” instead of “I”) I didn’t struggle there as much as I did with the similar names. Regardless it was a fascinating book about a fascinating character in a fascinating period of history.

We Were Liars. Trust me, the less you know about this one, the better. I knew nothing at all and I could not put it down. If you read it and want to discuss, feel free to email me and we can talk about it, the ending in particular.

A Fall of Marigolds. The stories of two women a century apart, September 1911 and September 2011, are weaved together in this historical novel. Seeing the events of 9/11 unfold in a novel was both interesting and different. A friend of mine told me she thought I would like this one and she was right. I did. How much do I love friends who know me so well to send me book recommendations?

Still Life. I’ve read the first two books in Penny’s Inspector Gamache series and I’m hooked. I love love love a good murder mystery and while these have started a little slowly they have not disappointed. I am looking forward to reading more in the series.

What about you? Do you enjoy a good story well told? Do you have any recommendations from your summer reading? Let us know in the comments! Your fellow fiction fans want to know!

Note: this post contains affiliate links.

To wholly follow the Lord

I have been studying Joshua this summer both devotionally and in preparation to teach the book this fall. Having taught a unit on Genesis, Exodus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy, as well as an overview of the prophets, I love seeing the big story of the Bible play out in Joshua. As kings and lands are conquered, Abraham’s descendants are seeing the fulfillment of Genesis 12:7, the Lord’s promise of the land to his offspring.

Once the land is claimed, Joshua divides the inheritance among the twelve tribes. In Joshua 14, Caleb, one of the original spies sent to scout out the land some 45 years earlier, reminds Joshua of Moses’ promise to him and asks for a specific parcel:

You know what the Lord said to Moses the man of God in Kadesh-barnea to spy out the land, and I brought him word again as it was in my heart. But my brothers who went up with me made the heart of the people melt; yet I wholly followed the Lord my God. And now, behold, the Lord has kept me alive, just as he said, these forty-five years since the time that the Lord spoke this word to Moses, while Israel walked in the wilderness. (Joshua 14:6-10)

And lest anyone think Caleb incapable or ignorant, he confidently asserts,

And now, behold, I am this day eighty-five years old. I am still as strong today as I was in the day that Moses sent me; my strength now is as my strength was then, for war and for going and coming. So now give me this hill country…it may be that the Lord will be with me, and I shall drive them out just as the Lord said. (Joshua 14:10-12)

Caleb wholly followed the Lord his God and he knew the Lord would be faithful.

It is easy for me to read about Caleb and be impressed, inspired, and even a little intimidated. So brave and so bold, and, good grief, so very brave and so very bold at eighty-five years old!

I want to wholly follow the Lord but most days I don’t feel so very brave or so very bold. I don’t have the confidence or the strength to conquer giants. My life feels less like claiming the Promised Land and more like struggling in the same battles day in and day out, the same sins, the same sink of dirty dishes, the same basket of dirty laundry, the same five empty stomachs wanting supper, every single night.

Monotonous. Boring. Every day the same. Zero conquering here! But before I begin to despise my days of small things, I read Caleb’s request more carefully and see just how long he had to wait to claim Moses’ promise to him. Did you see? Forty-five years! Forty-five years of wandering in the wilderness with no library, no smartphone, no Twitter, no encouraging blogs like this one to read--can you imagine? Talk about monotonous!

Yet Caleb wholly followed the Lord. He persevered. He believed. He waited. Day in and day out for forty-five years. Surely he rehearsed the Lord’s promises as well as the Lord’s past faithfulness. He knew the Lord would provide and he knew his only hope was the presence of God with him. So he followed, wholly and wholeheartedly, and the promised inheritance was his by the grace and provision of the Lord his God.

This past week I’ve talked to friends and loved ones who each in their own way are struggling to persevere. One grieves a terrible loss, one worries over her job, another waits for time to heal and restore the hurt. Another friend told me through tears that she is weary, so weary, of baby steps, yet in her weariness she believes, she waits, she perseveres.

All are wholly following the Lord even in--yes, especially in--their weakness. One day Caleb’s testimony will be theirs and they will each say with him: I am strong but only because the Lord is with me and He is sufficient. They too will claim the promised inheritance that is theirs by the grace and provision of the Lord their God through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. 

May it be so in me, oh Lord.

Depression and Culture

In his book Depression: Looking Up from the Stubborn Darkness, Ed Welch offers a list of cultural elements that may contribute to the increases in depression in recent generations. While these features may not themselves be a direct cause of a specific depression diagnosis, they are certainly linked. As I read this particular chapter of Welch’s book, I grew convicted by how easily I am influenced by our culture that fuels self-pity and a sense of futility.

Please note that Welch clearly acknowledges throughout the book that depression is a complicated phenomenon, often without a clear cause and effect. He reiterates the fact that depression may be physical or spiritual or emotional or all three but regardless of its root cause it always has a spiritual element and it is that element that must be addressed by the hope of the gospel.

Here are some features of our culture that have links with depression:

1. A Culture of Decisions. With so many options and a wealth of information at our fingertips, the pressure in making decisions has become enormous, as has the sheer number of decisions we must make. What if we make the wrong decision? Sometimes it’s just easier to withdraw out of fear and paralysis, thus paving the way for depression.

2. A Culture of the Individual. Me, me, me, and what makes me happy, this is the mantra of our culture and it has reaped the consequences of isolation and loneliness leading to depression.

3. A Culture of Self-Indulgence. When we are consumed by the culture of the individual—me!—and our only concern is what makes me happy, then the culture of self-indulgence is born as we constantly crave more and more in our endless search for satisfaction, be it shoes or food or youth or beauty or affirmation or approval. These never satisfy and the endless search without satisfaction often leaves depression in its wake.

4. A Culture Where Happiness is the Greatest Good. We just want to be happy but the problem is that life is hard. If happiness is our greatest goal, what do we do when hardship comes, as it will? We get depressed.

5. A Culture of Entertainment and Boredom. We want to be entertained and amused. We want excitement and diversion. We do not know how to function without stimulation and our attention spans have grown short. When the excitement inevitably runs out, we are tempted to feel sorry for ourselves and we become prone to depression.

Again while the depression itself will probably have causes well beyond these factors or may require professional help, the answer to each of these contributing factors is a broader view of God and the pursuit of joy in Him through His Son Jesus. Yes, we live in a culture of decisions and the weight of so many decisions may seem to paralyze us, yet we can trust the care and provision of a wise and sovereign God. In contrast to the culture of the self-indulgent individual, the Bible teaches us we are saved not merely for our own sake but for the church. Engaging in true community and in selfless service will combat the self-preoccupation of our individualistic culture. As believers we also know that happiness is not our greatest good but the Lord Jesus Himself and sometimes He is glorified not in our happiness but in our suffering and we can trust Him even then. And when we are tempted to boredom we can pursue joy, joy fixed on the eternal goodness of our great God.

Happiness, joy, cheerfulness, these are not my default emotions. I am more melancholy then merry and sometimes I have used my gloomy nature as an excuse to allow some of these cultural tendencies to give way in my life and heart. Maybe you are like me or maybe you struggle with a deeper, more pervasive depression and maybe any mention of joy serves as a discouragement. To us all I say: let us choose it whether we feel it or not. Joy is our inheritance, a fruit of the Spirit within us if we belong to Christ. Let us repent of the ways we have given in to the world and its cultural influence and let us humbly choose joy. In Jesus’ name. Yes and amen.

True community

Years ago when our oldest two children were our only two and only babies at that--and even before--my husband and I had a large circle of several close friends and it was wonderful.

We were raising our babies together, we shared meals together, we went to church together, we talked on the phone, we hung out, we did Bible study together, we went on vacation together. One friend and I shared clothes like sisters and even took a smocking class together. Our lives intertwined in friendship and fellowship and, yeah, lots of fun.

I had no idea what I was experiencing was unique. When my husband and I moved away from that city and that group of friends, I assumed I’d just as easily find another peer group that was equally as welcoming and friendly.

I was wrong.

True community is rare. The friendships we enjoyed all those years ago were based initially and perhaps mainly on our common stage of life but I’ve discovered that as the children grow older it is more and more difficult to maintain a friendship with even that in common.

True Biblical community is even more rare and becoming increasingly so. I just finished reading True Community: The Biblical Practice of Koinonia by Jerry Bridges. In this book that is encouraging and convicting and exciting, Bridges outlines the markers of true community, the most important being common communion with God through His Son Jesus Christ. The Lord joins us together as His church and it is there we find the fellowship and partnership we were made for.

In addition to our common faith, true community happens as we partner together on mission for the gospel, as we serve each other for the common good, as we share in the fellowship of Christ’s sufferings, and, yes, of course, as we sit down together over a good meal. This kind of community can and should and will stretch across superficial commonality like age or stage of life or vocation or gender.

I look back on the community I enjoyed and loved twenty years ago with such nostalgia because it was not the norm. It was a unique and beautiful stage of my life that I miss in many ways. Don’t get me wrong, I know community, Biblical community, in my current church and among my current group of friends both real and virtual and I am profoundly, humbly grateful. But it lacks the ease and the openness I once knew.

Community is harder now, I think, because of the demands of our busy lives and because of the distractions of social media. We didn’t have all the expectations of Pinterest thrust upon us. There were no mommy blogs telling us what good moms did and didn’t do. We didn’t know the tyranny of email and Facebook and Twitter. I mean, the only social media I engaged in at the time was talking on the phone. Yeah, me. For real. Now I never do.

True community may be rare and the forces of our culture stacked against it but that only means it is all the more imperative we pursue real, true, and open community, the sort of community that sees and serves another. One of the first things we can do in this pursuit is put down our smartphones and focus on people over Facebook. I’m serious. Few things communicate a lack of engagement, a lack of community, than attention focused on your phone, whether that is the intention or not. Body language speaks volumes. Could you, when you are out and about and with someone else, put the phone away and ignore technology's demands? Could I? Let’s try. 

Regardless of whether your phone stays in your purse or not, let’s be about people, about sharing, and about serving. Let's talk. Let’s engage others. Let’s hang out both with our friends and those not yet our friends. Let’s pursue Biblical friendship and community. As we do so we bring glory to the Savior who loved us and brought us to communion with Him.

In Christ

I love the first chapter of Ephesians and Paul's obvious effusion as he attempts to describe the glories of grace and the blessings of salvation. It seems to me he struggles to pile words and phrases, superlative after superlative, one over another, to describe what is, finally, gloriously, indescribable.

Paul also employs repetition as he reminds his readers that each blessing of salvation is found in Christ. We are blessed in Christ with every spiritual blessing, he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, and in love he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ. In him we have redemption through his blood and the forgiveness of our trespasses according to the riches of his grace. This is according to his purpose which he set forth in Christ, to unite all things in him.

In Ephesians 2, this theme continues as Paul emphasizes that even though we were dead in our trespasses, God made us alive together with Christ and raise us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus. God the Father has done this so that he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works.

The Gospel Transformation Bible offers the following commentary on this glorious gospel truth of our union with Christ:

Paul uses the language of "in Christ" or "in him" or "in the Lord Jesus" roughly 40 times in Ephesians. The whole of our salvation can be summed up with reference to this reality. Union with Christ is not a single specific blessing we receive in our salvation. Rather it is the best phrase to describe all the blessings of salvation... 

Our entire blessedness--our victory, our happiness, our hope--is bound up in our being bound to Christ. How foolish, and ultimately disappointed, are those who stoop to drink from any other fountain. 

My life is hidden with Christ in God! What victory! What happiness! What hope! So often we are tempted to think of the blessings of salvation apart from our being found in Christ. "Come, find relief from the burden of your sin," we say, a wonderful and amazing gospel invitation, but the truth of our union with Christ is that we are forgiven in Christ and as new creatures, saved and redeemed, we live in him.

Last week as part of my devotions I read the following prayer from Prone to Wander: Prayers of Confession and Celebration by Barbara Duguid and Wayne Houk.

Holy Spirit, produce in us growing faith that we may live in Christ. May all our desires rest in him constantly. Make Jesus our greatest hope and all our glory. May we enter him as our refuge, build on him as our foundation, walk in him, follow him, conform to him, rely on him, and obey him. Let us never be ashamed of him or his words. May his death comfort us, for we have been loved with unfathomable love. May his resurrection assure us that his obedience was perfect, his sacrifice accepted, and his work finished. Help us to hold fast to the gospel we have believed, to cherish it in our weakness and to profess its power when we stand strong. Deepen our faith and guard our hearts and minds with the helmet of Christ's salvation, the breastplate of his righteousness, the shield of his faith, the sandals of his peace, and the sword of his truth. In his strong name we pray, amen.

Yes and amen.

Love the church

Paul opens his letter to the Philippians with the greeting “to all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi, with the overseers and deacons.” (Phil. 1:1) From this salutation we can make a couple of observations. First, Paul writes to a group of believers, saints, who are in a physical location, at Philippi. In other words, he writes to a church. Not only does Paul write to this group of localized believers, but he specifically mentions overseers and deacons, both offices of church leadership.

So I think we can conclude that Paul is writing to a church that is local and is organized, important distinctions in our current age of disillusionment with both.

We can read on in Paul’s letter to the Philippians, and most any other New Testament epistle, and read of the importance of the church both in the life of the believer as well as in God’s plan for the world. Church, local and organized, is crucial.

And I imagine most of us would agree. We aren’t disillusioned with the idea of church so much as we are with the church in practice. We’ve been hurt or disappointed or betrayed. It’s easier to walk away. I understand. I’ve been there.

Consider again the New Testament epistles written to churches, local churches like yours and mine. Nearly all the letters address problems of one kind or another, some more serious than others. From selfish ambition and quarreling to sexual immorality, these churches struggled. Yet over and over Paul and James and Peter and the other authors encourage their readers to pursue love and unity and reconciliation. Not once do they recommend the reader take off on her own, that she is better without the church than with.

The Lord saves us for Himself and He saves us for the church. Messy and heartbreaking as it sometimes--often--is, we are called to love one another in the context of the accountability and fellowship of a local, organized church. We need the instruction, we need the interdependence, we need the church.

So love your church especially in her struggles. Love her people and pray for them. Find a way to serve and serve well. Maybe you will have to finally leave for another church because of irreconcilable gospel differences but may it be as a last resort. 

How I pray the Lord will help us all, in all our churches, to be faithful to follow the example of our Lord Jesus Christ who loved the church and gave Himself up for her. May we see the glory of Lord in His church! Yes and amen!

See the People

As children some of you probably recited the rhyme (with motions!), "Here is the church / here is the steeple / open the doors and see all the people." I thought of its simple truth as I reflected on the church and her influence on me. It's true: I see all the people.

• The senior adult who taught me in fourth grade Sunday school (I think). I remember the dioramas we made but more importantly I remember she cried when I told her my grandmother died.

• The elementary grade Sunday School teacher who gave me a pin for memorizing the Lord's Prayer. I wore that pin for ages.

• The college student whose excitement and passion for the things of God were revolutionary to me. And contagious.

• Malcom, the big former Texas football player, who taught me in ninth grade; from his class I will never forget that bad company corrupts good character, that I am known by the company I keep and that what I reap I will sow. The amount of Scripture he had committed to memory was astonishing to me.

• Trisha, my college minister's wife and my friend during those crazy college years, who modeled for me wisdom and intelligence. From her I learned that as a woman I could hear from and know God for myself and that He had a calling specifically for me.

And there are more, Sunday school teachers and leaders through the years who faithfully taught me the truth of God's Word. Most I cannot even remember their names, but I remember their love for me and their love for the Word. Their legacy, their faithfulness to the Lord, endures today. In me.

I am who I am because of the humble service of these saints of God.

We need the church. I need the church. You need the church. That's a truth for another post's exposition but it is undeniably the message of the Bible.

The Bible is also clear: the church needs you.

We need each other. If you belong to Christ you have been gifted by the Spirit to serve the church for the common good. There are varieties of gifts and varieties of services, but the same God who empowers (1 Cor. 12:4-7). Your church needs you to serve her people in the provision and grace of the Spirit. This is the privilege and responsibility--and joy!--of the saints.

It's interesting to me to note that as I catalog those individuals who profoundly affected my life and faith, it is most often the layperson, the humble Bible teacher, the Sunday school teacher who comes to mind first. They were not professionals. Those who influenced me most knew me, loved me, and served me in the context of relationship.

Will you be the Sunday school teacher who will love a group of young girls and who will cry with them in their grief? Will you infuse in teenagers the priority of Scripture? Or maybe you will rock babies in the nursery so their moms can enjoy a hours' respite and uninterrupted Biblical instruction. Maybe you can serve your church family as you cook. Maybe you could clean the toilets or vacuum the sanctuary.

Not sure of your gifting? Not sure where to serve? Ask. Find a need and fill it. Build relationships. See the people and love them as well as you can. As we do so may we see the Lord's glory in His church for His kingdom's sake!

As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace... 1 Pet. 4:10

A word to the doubting

I recently finished reading Jared C. Wilson's excellent book The Wonder-Working God: Seeing the Glory of Jesus in His Miracles. Tucked into this encouraging and thought provoking look at Jesus' miracles is a word to the doubting, specifically five ways to battle the unbelief of doubt.

I've had periods of my life when I've doubted and I imagine you have as well. Like the father of Mark 9:24 I've cried out, "I do believe; help my unbelief!" Wilson exhorts me and you to battle our unbelief in the following ways...

Concentrate on the historical fact of the cross. Read the gospels and read books about the cross and reflect on why Jesus died. 

Do not seek refuge or advice with those who would shame you for doubting. In my doubts I need the gospel and I need the kind of community that neither shames nor coddles.  

Pray. Ask the Lord to increase your faith. Pray as if you do believe. Cry out to Him in boldness and in honesty. 

Refocus your doubts toward your own failings and inability. Wilson writes that we should doubt ourselves, doubt our doubts. In other words, despair of yourself! When you realize your utter insufficiency you are better able to trust the Lord's sufficiency and grace. 

Finally, read your Bible. Meditate on the promises of God. Christ's righteousness covers your doubt! Wrestling with unbelief is actually an indication of belief.

As I've written before, we all go through stages of our journey when the Lord seems distant and we are forced to wrestle with the reality of our faith. May we turn to Him in the smallness of our mustard seed sized faith and cry out for help. The Lord is faithful and we can trust Him to remove all doubt as He brings to completion His good work in us! Yes and amen!

Let's be real

You can generally spot an old timer blogger by the title of her blog, her url, her twitter handle, or all three. Here's the key: none of them will contain her real name, certainly not her real first and last name. Hence "lisa_writes" on the Twitter and "lisa-writes" on my first blogspot address.

Back then anonymity was heralded as the blogging best practice. We were warned against, and in response we feared, that nebulous bad guy out there intent on nefarious action regarding our real name. And don't even think about posting pictures of your kids!

It's funny in hindsight, what with the explosion of mommy blogging whose single most identifying characteristic, at least in my unofficial and unscientific observation, is beautiful, professional quality photography of the children.

Which I love by the way. Though they hold up a standard I could never ever hope to aspire to, I do love cute kids in a great pic. Just so you know.

Some habits die hard though. I rarely if ever refer to my kids or even my husband by name on my blog. Not so much because I think you the reader want to do them harm but more because I respect their privacy and want them to be the arbiter of their online presence when and if they choose. Same deal over on Twitter. Two of my children have Twitter accounts but I always hesitate just a moment before I retweet or mention. Maybe I'm hearkening back to those overly cautious early days of blogging but, whatever the reason, I've decided to err on the side of too careful rather than too careless.

Speaking of old timers, any of you who blogged way-back-when remember the meme "I am more than my blog"? The point of the meme was, as is no doubt obvious, that not all of my life is represented on the blog. What you see is merely a sliver of my real life, which incidentally is only the sliver I allow you to see.

I think about that meme when I am tempted to make the following PSA: "Dear Twitter friends, what you see here is not the sum of what I think, believe, appreciate, or esteem." I leave you to determine my tone of voice. There may or may not be a certain level of snark involved. Shocking, I know. Just keepin' it real.

The blog posts and the Twitter feed and the Facebook timeline, while I strive to be as authentic as possible, they are not the sum of who I am. Neither are yours. The virtual life is the virtual life, important, perhaps, edifying, to be sure, fun, of course.

But it is not real life.

My real life has real people in it, a real family that is my privilege to love and serve. There's a real church too where I learn to worship the Lord in accountability and fellowship with other believers. There are real women I meet on Wednesdays at the pregnancy center with real problems that break my heart. They need the real gospel--and here's a news flash: my blog posts or Twitter updates, no matter how wise or witty or well written, will not give that to them. There are real women in the Bible study I teach, real women hungry to know the realness of the Word to infect their real lives with real power and real passion as they grow to know and love a real God.

I am not abandoning the virtual life, not at all. I both enjoy and learn from my online friendships and the interactions I find there. I am the better for the friendships I've made with women from around the world. How else but the Internet? Who else but our God?

What I am saying is this: let's not pursue the virtual at the expense of the real. Serve your online audience and serve them well but do not do so to the neglect of the real people that the Lord has placed in your immediate, real context. And let's remember we are all real people and, as such, more than our blogs, our feeds, and our timelines.

When you meet trials of various kinds

One thing I love about James and the book of the Bible that bears his name: he pulls no punches. James is a straight shooter and I like that. In fact, I am currently teaching through the book and I told my class this past week that sometimes I feel as if he's explained himself so very plainly that all I need to do as a teacher is read the text and conclude with "Yeah; what he said."

I don't, of course. But sometimes I feel like I could, what with all James' plain speech.

Consider how he begins his letter. Barely two verses in and already he is tenderly admonishing his brothers and sisters in Christ to "count it all joy...when you meet trials of various kinds." See how straightforward he is? How realistic? Trials are not an "if" in James' economy; they are a "when." He knows life is hard and struggles will come and he doesn't shy away from that truth.

In fact, he acknowledges that these difficulties can be varied. Naturally our minds turn to the "big" trials--the heartbreaks, the diagnoses, the losses. But we will endure trials of various kinds, the seemingly big as well as the seemingly small, and regardless of how big or small we may consider their relative importance we are to count them all joy.

All joy. Count it all joy when these sure and varied struggles come to you, James encourages us, and were he to stop there we would have to respond with either disciplined stoicism (clinch your teeth and just get through it) or Pollyannish denial (what trials?).

But James tells us exactly why we can count it joy: "for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness..." In other words, count it joy because there is a purpose and that purpose is for the testing of your faith through these varied trials to produce steadfastness in you.

How does this work? Some difficulty arises, big or small, and I am faced with the testing of my faith: "Is God there? Does He hear me? Is He good?" As I wrestle with these questions, how will steadfastness have its full effect in me?

There is not time or space here for a full theology of suffering but here are three truths that feed my endurance when faced with trials, big or small:

1. How I react to the trial reflects what I really care about. This is an ugly truth, but one worth considering with great soberness. Whether it is a sudden devastation or a lingering irritation, what I value will be exposed by my reactions and most often this will require confession and repentance as I work through the sin and idols that are exposed.

2. The Lord is my only true hope and comfort. This truth is closely related to #1. As my false comforts and selfish desires are exposed, I must rehearse to myself the sufficiency of the Lord. Whatever it is I think I want or need I will find it in the Lord!

3. The Lord was faithful yesterday, He is faithful today, and He will be faithful tomorrow. How easily I forget the countless ways He delivers me and sustains me! Rehearsing His past faithfulness fuels my trust in Him.

So when the trial comes, searching my reaction will expose my true desires and my false idols. Confession and repentance call me to cast myself on the truth that my only true hope and lasting comfort is the Lord alone who is always, eternally faithful despite my feelings or questions. I remind myself of the gospel, of Jesus who died to save me a sinner, and of the grace and freedom that is mine as His child. My faith may be tested but I can endure as I trust Him in the sufficiency of His grace.

Life is hard. These varied trials may be big, they may be small, they may last for a short time, they may not cease until the Lord calls you home. But we can count it all joy, all of it, all joy, because we trust our good and gracious God.

That's straight-shooting, plain gospel truth. 

On packing, dumpsters, and true treasure

I am currently in the process of packing up our house in preparation to move at the end of this month. We've lived in this home for fifteen years so, yeah, there's a lot of stuff to be cleaned up and cleared out. A lot of stuff. Fifteen years plus four kids? You get the picture.

It's quite an undertaking to be sure but I kind of like it. For the moment anyway. There is great freedom in weighing the relative beauty or usefulness of an item and then making the decision to pack it or give it away. I'm no minimalist but I'm liking the process of paring down to things I really love and use.

Packing has also been an exercise in gratitude. I have laughed and remembered and maybe even blinked back a tear or two as I uncover long forgotten pictures and scrapbooks and other memories.

And so much of what we have is due to the generosity of our family! Giving us everything from beds to tables to lamps to mattresses and box springs, our families have been so good to us and we are grateful. My husband's grandmother was especially generous to us, giving us furniture items like chairs and cedar chests, precious items like a Roseville vase and the not-quite-so-precious like an orange plastic colander.

Upon her death several years ago, we received her dining room table, chairs, hutch and buffet. When we drove over with the Uhaul to pick up the dining set, most of her earthly possessions had already been divided among the family, and my husband's father was emptying the house of the remaining items in order to ready it for sale. A dumpster had been hauled in to the backyard for convenient disposal.

I rummaged through what remained in the house on a scavenger hunt of sorts, saving a few items from sure dumpster doom. We discovered some Bibles, one belonging to my husband's great-grandmother containing the occasional childish scribble of his grandmother's name marked by her age.

But mostly it was junk deserving of the dumpster. A lot of junk, I might add. We spent the better part of the day tossing objects great and small into the dumpster. I can't tell you what fun my boys had hurling items over the edge and listening for the accompanying crash or shatter.

I thought to myself then, and continue to ponder today as I sort through fifteen years of accumulated possessions and my own fair share of junk: isn't that just like life? Isn't that what the things of this world ultimately come to: a dumpster in the backyard? These were items my husband's grandmother had cherished and kept for years, decades in most cases, now thrown into a dumpster and headed for a landfill.

She was a godly woman, my husband's grandmother, and she knew her true treasure did not lie in this world. In fact, the last time we saw her alive she told my husband she was ready to die, that she had asked the Lord to go ahead and take her Home. I am quite certain she gave no thought for the things of this world in her desire for the next.

As I evaluate keeping or tossing, packing or giving away, the dumpster serves as an important visual, reminding me this world is not all there is, and the material things I sometimes strive after with such obsession will ultimately end up in a dumpster headed for the landfill.

Am I storing up treasures in heaven, or merely filling the dumpster?

May I set my heart on things eternal, seeking after Jesus, the true Treasure of this life. And the next. For where my treasure is, there my heart will be also.

*Parts of this post appeared in an article at my personal blog, August 2007

I need Christmas

It's something of a strange Christmas for us this year. In fact, it doesn't feel much like Christmas at all. I haven't decorated nor do I plan to this year. Nope, not even a tree nor a wreath. I put out some red and white snowflake placemats, hung a "Merry Christmas Y'all" towel in the guest bath, and called it a day. Don't worry, I'm not *exactly* a Scrooge, no more than usual that is, but we are in the process of packing to move to a new home in January so unloading and reloading boxes of Christmas decor is a little more than I care to take on at the moment.

I suppose the most Christmas-y part of the month has been the boxes arriving on my doorstep. Online shopping is my friend, yes and amen.

So, yeah, Christmas doesn't exactly feel like Christmas to me. It's interesting to me how much my Christmas celebration is propped up by the externalities: the tree, the garland, the weather. Don't get me wrong, I love tradition and I think the rituals of Christmas can greatly enhance our observation of the season. At my church, for example, we light the candles of the Advent wreath on the Sundays leading up to Christmas. I always look forward to the Scripture reading and to the hopeful anticipation that marks the coming of our Savior.

This year though. In the busy-ness of the fall, December descended with shock and surprise, I am distracted, my mind is full of everything but the hope of Advent, and I think, this isn't Christmas, at least not the sepia toned version we hold to be the ideal.

My friend and fellow counselor at the pregnancy center died suddenly. Such loss and sudden grief doesn't feel much like Christmas either.

I scroll through my Twitter feed and my heart grows heavy. It doesn't seem much like Christmas there either. Our world is broken. Grief, injustice, heartbreak, wickedness, loss--this is the world we live in. We need a Savior. We are lost, desperate, doomed. We need rescuing.

I look into my own heart and, if I take an honest assessment, I see brokenness there too. Sin, wickedness--I need a Savior. I am lost, desperate, doomed apart from Christ. I need rescuing.

I need Christmas. Our world needs Christmas.

Here is the reason for the season in all its stark reality: we are so wicked and so depraved and so willfully rebellious in our sin that we could never save ourselves. Indeed we would not want to. God had to come get us.

This is the Christmas season. Not because the calendar tells us so but because today is the day of salvation. God the Father sent His Son to be born a baby. Fully man and fully God, He lived the perfect life in perfect obedience and died a cruel and horrible death to pay the penalty for sin. He rose from the grave and He lives to freely offer forgiveness and His perfect righteousness to all who would repent and believe. This is the good news of the gospel and of grace, this is the hope of Advent, this is Christmas.

“…and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” Matt. 1:21

Christmas lights, worn out moms, and the world

One night, fourteen years ago, we piled the boys in the van and took a drive to look at Christmas lights. The baby was then a mere few days old and his mother an exhausted wreck as all new mothers are. How long had it been since I'd ventured out of the house? For that matter, how many days had I spent in my pajamas? My life at that point consisted of a hazy conglomeration of feedings and occasional naps and the demands of not only the newborn but of a 5 year old, 4 year old and a 2 year old. Bless my heart.

That night we drove around the neighborhood pointing out the spectacular and the not-so-spectacular light displays. I can't remember if the boys were impressed or not. I do know I nearly wept from the few moments of rest. And freedom. And shock. Is it crazy to admit that I was surprised to find that life outside my four walls had carried on as usual? People decorated their homes and went to work and cooked supper, all without any knowledge or concern of the life-altering event I'd just experienced. It sounds silly to admit but I suppose I had forgotten there was a world beyond my own. As I said my life had, to that point, been consumed by the needs and responsibilities within our four walls. When we ventured out and I caught glimpse of the world outside I was surprised.

We concluded our little escape at the drive through nativity put on by a local church in our community. There amid the livestock and the mock stable was a baby. And a new mom. As we listened to the cassette tape intended to accompany the live nativity and as I watched the depiction of Mary and the baby I thought of my own newborn babe and I considered all over again the humility of Mary’s obedience and the joy of the Messiah’s birth, the baby Jesus born in a stable, wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

My need was great in those days and the gospel became incredibly precious to me as I struggled with the sheer physical and emotional exhaustion of being a mom to four. The incarnation—that Jesus became a man—was a comfort. He knew fatigue. He understood weariness. He was fully man and fully God and able to sympathize. He saves worn out moms desperate for grace, yes and amen.

That cold night we spent admiring Christmas lights taught me another important truth: the blessing of the Incarnation isn’t only for me. I am part of a wider story, a bigger picture, a greater world. All around me people are living lives desperate for the truth of the gospel, lives untouched and unchanged by the life-altering, world-altering event of Jesus' birth.

Jesus saved me, glory to His name, but He came to save all who are His. This gospel story isn’t merely about me and my need, it is about God redeeming a people for Himself through the birth, death and resurrection of His Son. There is a world outside our immediate context. May we look beyond our four walls and see God’s sweeping purposes throughout history. Mary, me, you--we are part of the joy God brings to the world through His Son. Let us go and tell.


Author's note: this article originally appeared at my personal blog December 2013. 

The grace of thanksgiving

My friend's father died suddenly last week. We stood in line for two hours Monday night in order to pay our respects to the family, to hug our friend, to tell her how much we love her and her family, to grieve with those we love who grieve.

Death and loss and grief, these sober us, give us pause, make us think. I've been strangely--or not so strangely--nostalgic all week as I not only contemplate mortality but also as I contemplate life and grace and providence. As I ponder, I am thankful and this gratitude serves to teach me important, difficult truths about the grace of thanksgiving:

Thanksgiving helps me remember that God is faithful. How I am prone to doubt! Thanksgiving reminds me that God was faithful and good yesterday and He will indeed be faithful and good to me today. I can trust Him.

Thanksgiving expresses submission to the sovereignty of God. When I thank the Lord, I say that what He has given me is right and good and acceptable and perfect. Acknowledging the gift in humble, thankful gratitude places me in trust and submission before the Giver.

Thanksgiving teaches me humility. God is faithful. God is sovereign. I cannot be proud before these twin truths. Recounting His faithfulness to me in submission to His sovereignty displays true humility before Him.

I saw Monday night the evidence of a life well lived, a life that served others, a life full of friendship and family and faith. I saw a widow and a daughter both give thanks through their tears for the joy of having known and having loved. In their heartbreak, they yet trust the faithfulness of their sovereign God.

May the Lord teach us to be a thankful people, not just in November but throughout our lives, "giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ." (Eph. 5:20)

Jesus is my life

I remembered her from a couple of weeks earlier. As she walked toward the door, arms laden with the packages of diapers and wipes I'd just given her, I asked her about her church. In their last visit she and her daughter told me they attended a local Hispanic church but I asked again in the hopes of beginning a gospel conversation.

Nearly all of our clients at the pregnancy center claim some sort of church affiliation. It's a rare client indeed that will freely confess her unbelief. Probing more deeply into what the client means both by church attendance and faith in Christ helps expose the true state of both.

So I asked about church and she responded with such emphatic affirmation that I inquired more directly: "So you're a believer in Christ?" She responded with a great smile and a happy stream of Spanish. She gestured toward the ceiling and clutched her heart and concluded in halting, broken English, "Jesus is my life."

Chill bumps erupted on my arms and tears sprang to my eyes. What a beautiful, humble testimony! "Mine too!" I exclaimed and we hugged. She pointed once again to heaven and joyously affirmed, "You...my sister in Christ." Again, the big smile. Again, a hug. Again, a tear. Or maybe two.

We couldn't be more different, she and I. Me comfortably ensconced in my middle class, affluent world with its first world "probz" and she needy, impoverished, a minority in a culture where she cannot even speak the language with any degree of fluency.

As we hugged and shared smiles and tears, I saw the beautiful, precious, glorious reality of John's vision in Revelation. Every tongue, every tribe, every nation, she, and I, all before the throne of the Lord Jesus Christ.

The bond this precious woman of God and I share in the Lord extends far beyond race, language, and socioeconomic barriers. Glory to God, Jesus has broken down the dividing wall! We are sisters, our hearts knit together by the blood of the Son of God who died to set us free. What glory. What grace.

The evident joy and unwavering faith of this sweet client of mine humble me and instruct me. O, for faith to say "Jesus is my life" not only when I have everything but even when I have nothing.

He is all in all, yes and amen.


Author's note: a version of this post first appeared at my personal blog in June, 2013.