Since I’m out West with my Arizona sister on a road trip in her RV – our annual “sisterly adventure,” I’m scheduling one of my longer testimonies in three parts. Today, Part 1:

Then he said to them all: “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” Luke 9:23

The doctor’s diagnosis and recommendation gave me mixed feelings. On the one hand, the thought that a simple surgery could solve multiple minor physical nuisances was appealing; on the other hand, the site of the surgery was uncomfortably close to the voice box, and frankly I had grown kind of attached to my voice.

I had formed my identity largely based on my voice. Yes, I was a writer, but lately my business cards had been redesigned to include other things I did:

“Author/Speaker/Singer/Songwriter/Musician.” (Right after the cards were printed, I heard a sermon with the message: “Your identity is not found in what you do.” Oops.)

I loved serving the LORD with my voice. My personal devotions included singing to Him while playing my guitar or harp. I took my instruments to the local hospital to sing to the patients, and I had occasional speaking engagements to deliver messages to women, youth, or church congregations. And my two favorite things to do with my children, and now my grandchildren, were singing to them and reading to them. Always loving an excuse to reread The Chronicles of Narnia and other childhood favorites, I would tap into my theatrical training and play the part of each character, using different voices an dialects. In my interactions with people – those I knew as well as strangers – I seized every opportunity to tell about my latest answer to prayer … or for that matter, detailed stories of God’s grace in my life that I had repeated often over the years. (An instructor at a speaker’s conference once told me I was a born storyteller.)

Of course, I prayed that my voice would be OK through this surgery, and I trusted that if God wanted to use my voice, He’d certainly protect it. But I had also walked with Him long enough to know that His thoughts are not my thoughts; His plan for me might not line up with my own plans and preferences. While I personally enjoyed worshiping the Lord and glorifying Him with my voice, if He had other, better plans for me to serve Him, I certainly wanted to be open to them, and I told Him so. Inwardly, though, I did fervently hope that His plan would not include taking away the gift He had allowed me to use and enjoy for so long. So, I had to remind myself repeatedly that God knew best, and that I refused to give in to fear.

My doctor assured me there was little chance that I would lose my voice. She had even searched out a surgeon that used the latest cutting-edge equipment to protect the vocal cords; this surgeon had done the same operation on a backup singer for a big-name rock star. Still, there was no guarantee, and I didn’t want to be presumptuous. So I prayed, yielded my will to the Lord, and explored various other ways I could glorify Him without a voice. Of course, I could continue to write, I just wouldn’t be able to speak at any book signings, church services, or other gatherings. I supposed I could continue to play my instruments, but most of my music was purely to accompany my singing, so I considered going back to earlier interests in art, crafts, even gourmet cooking. These were pleasant thoughts, but deep down was a nagging, gnawing feeling of dread at the thought that I might be left with these only, voiceless.

The nagging imaginations of life as a mute were based on my experience of being unable to speak years ago in college. Persistent throat infections had taken their toll, and I’d been told by a specialist that I may or may not have permanently damaged my voice. He had told me that it was best for me not to speak for a month and not to sing for a year. As a theater major, this had been a major thing! I’d been forced to drop out of the singing groups I was in, and for my final performance in acting class, I’d done a mime, even though we had received no instruction in mime. (Please don’t ask how that went.) Probably the worst part of this ordeal had been living in the midst of other college students, who were having discussions of every topic under the sun, having so much to say, and having to write it all down. People had been patient and tolerant for a while, but eventually I’d begun to feel it was an imposition to expect people to wait for me to write everything down and try to decipher my handwriting, which had become steadily worse with my attempts to write at lightning speed with ever-growing writer’s cramp. Finally I would retreat to my room and do most of my talking to God, as the tears rolled down my face, accompanied by Simon and Garfunkle singing “Bridge Over Troubled Water” on my record player. (Record player? … Yes, that was a while ago.)

As I anticipated the possibility of being voiceless again, maybe permanently, the memory of the loneliness enveloped me in a cold darkness, and I couldn’t quite worship with the complete abandon that I wanted to.

… To be continued …

Prayer: LORD, my life is in Your hands. Whether I have everything I want, or things aren’t the way I’d like, or I’m anticipating losing something precious to me, I am utterly dependent on You every minute of every day. But I trust You, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

 

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.                                                                                                                                                                                                               Romans 8:18

Last week I told the story of the day my daughter Kelly missed singing at the National Day of Prayer after missing just about everything else of significance her senior year, and how God interrupted my pity party via a purse-sized New Testament to remind me of His Resurrection, and to get me to ask myself, “What else matters?”

Recap: “Yes, my daughter had missed the National Day of Prayer, over a hundred days of high school, and numerous weekend festivities. She had missed Homecoming, but someday she would be at the greatest Homecoming in history. She had missed singing in the choir that day, but someday she would sing in heaven’s choir forever. Kelly loved Jesus, and she would get to spend forever with Him, at the never-ending, greatest celebration of all time. When one had that to look forward to, what else mattered? …

Continuation: What doesn’t matter has a way of getting to us, though, and it was only a couple of days later that I was charging out of the house to escape the stress for a while. I figured pedaling my bike at top speed to the health club and working out with weights was better than screaming at people, but at the moment my pedaling was accompanied by angry muttering under my breath.

Along the way I noticed the grass in front of the high school was littered with small pieces of paper, but I was too preoccupied with my own frustration to think much about it. But after the workout had melted away some of the aggravation, I realized as I passed the school again on my way home that the Gideons must have been there handing out Bibles, and obviously someone had not appreciated the gesture. Dozens of pages torn out of a small New Testament had been strewn all over the lawn. I slowed my bike down and looked sadly at the precious scriptures fluttering in the wind. I could almost see the devil smiling.

Well, somebody‘s going to get something out of this Bible! I thought with righteous defiance. I stopped and picked up a couple of pages, and a sense of deja vu accompanied what I read on one:

“On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away … ”    Luke 24:1-2

My mouth dropped open, and tears filled my eyes as the words reverberated in my mind: What else matters?

OK, Lord, so my short-term memory needs some work …

[Excerpted from BARRIERS (So, if prayers are so powerful, how come mine don’t get answered?) c 2015 Ann Aschauer]

Prayer: Lord, thank You for Your patience with us. Thank You for not giving up on us, but reminding us time and again of what You have told us before, knowing that we are a forgetful bunch, who nevertheless want to follow You. Thanks for doing whatever it takes to keep us with You, in Jesus’ name, amen.

Update: Since I first posted “What Else Matters?” several readers have asked how Kelly is doing. First, thank you for asking. How kind of you to care for a young lady you have never met.

Since that National Day of Prayer I have had to be reminded repeatedly of where my priorities should be. I guess I am always “seeking divine perspective,” and God never tires of helping me. He is so good.

Kelly graduated on the honor roll, in spite of all the days missed. She had worked hard to beat the odds, but because she had missed so many days, she got none of the special awards given to individual students for outstanding work in specific subjects. Still, I was so proud of the way she sat with a smile on her face, clapping for her classmates as their names were called.

Kelly struggled in college, as the cycle of stress/migraine/missed classes/falling behind had started again, and now we (her parents) were a couple of states away, concerned for her emotional health as well as the physical. It was there that God provided a godly woman in her church who loved Kelly and was like another mom to her. Kate, her husband, and their three children became like a second family. The children looked up to Kelly and adored her. Kate would call occasionally and fill me in when Kelly was having a rough time, and we’d pray for “our girl.” There was at least one time when Kate took Kelly to the ER. She was truly a godsend.

Fast forward to today. Kelly has a bachelor’s degree, a master’s degree, a godly, loving husband, and certification in massage therapy. (I name these in chronological order, not in order of importance!) She and her husband live just a few hours from us in a house they are remodeling, with their “baby” – a dog Kelly adores and posts way too many pictures of on Facebook.

Kelly still calls me “MamaBear,” and I still call her “BabyBear.” She sent me a text last week with a picture of her wearing a big smile and her official polo shirt embroidered with the name of her new employer. I congratulated her and asked if it was a good time to talk. It was only then that she told me she had a bad migraine and was going to lie down, but she had texted me because didn’t want me to miss seeing her “I-got-the-job!” smile.

Her new job pays well, and the hours are flexible, so if/when a migraine shows up it won’t present a huge problem. But I’m guessing that with the pressure off, fewer migraines will show up. Best of all, Kelly will be spending her days helping hurting people heal.

Bottom line: Yes, she still has migraines, but migraines don’t have her.

 

Dear readers,

I am heading out West tonight for another “adventure” with my sister, and so far we still don’t know where we’re going!   Since it’s likely I’ll be away from WiFi (and busy “adventuring”  anyway) I will not be blogging for the next couple of weeks. I have some pieces scheduled to be posted, but I will not be reading other blogs as I usually do. Please feel free to “like” or comment on my posts, and when I get back I will respond, and maybe read the suggested ones of yours. But since I usually get about 150 emails a day, I can’t promise that when I get home I’ll read everything that’s piled up since I left!

Just know that if you don’t get any comments or “likes” from me in the next couple of weeks, and if I don’t respond to your comments immediately, it’s not that I’m not interested, it’s that I am out of reach. I look forward to connecting with y’all when I get back.

Happy rest of May!

Annie

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.

                                                                               I Corinthians 9:24, 25

The Favorite

He seemed destined to win from the start. As the horses thundered (or splashed) around the track, every rider but one had to contend with the mud that was flung in his face with every hoof-beat. For all but a few tense seconds, it was clear who the front-runner was, and the moment “Maximum Security” crossed the finish line, his rider was approached for an interview before he had even dismounted. The reporter asked the predictable question: “You’ve won the Kentucky Derby! How does it feel?” The breathless jockey’s face was predictably beaming, as he spoke a few words about a “dream come true.”

BUT WAIT …

Moments later there came what was for many the unthinkable: a protest and a chance that Maximum Security would be disqualified – not just have to settle for second or third, but be disqualified. He had run a great race, but had he run a perfect race?

The joy on the faces of Maximum Security’s people turned to expressions of concern, as judges deliberated for what seemed like hours, repeating footage of the race from every possible angle to determine if there had been a foul. News cameras focused on the faces of the owners and jockeys as they waited for the verdict. The spotless face of Maximum Security’s rider was clearly worried. Meanwhile, the mud-covered face of the second-place rider looked (to this observer) like a mixture of hopeful and awkward as reporters threw questions at the young man. My heart went out to everyone involved, including the officials, who were stuck with the job no one would have wanted.

The Verdict

When the verdict was announced, the second-place horse with the modest name “Country House” was declared the winner. His jubilant owner embraced the mud-covered jockey, oblivious to the consequences for his suit. Meanwhile, those who had invested much of their lives in Maximum Security left that day with no mud stains, and no prize.

What About You?

So, what does this have to do with us?

EVERYTHING.

As we are all running our race on the same track, some seem to have a distinct advantage from the start, and inasmuch as they take advantage of every opportunity, they seem to stay ahead. Others start out not so advantaged, and yet they run anyway, sometimes getting mud kicked in their faces by those in front. The rich and famous (or whoever the world describes as “successful”) have their fifteen minutes of fame. They may have breathless reporters shoving microphones in their faces as long as they are on top, while onlookers may waste a good portion of their lives envying these people.

Those with a more spiritual perspective may look for different qualifications when determining who the “front-runners” are. Their “winners” would include the Billy Grahams and the Mother Teresa’s of the world – those who have spent their lives doing good. Surely, they must be God’s favorites because of all the work they have done for Him. The list may also include those who aren’t famous but nevertheless have spent their lives doing the right things, staying clean, and avoiding doing anything they might be sorry for later.

Surprise.

But someday that will all change, and for many it will be a rude awakening.

Jesus began His Sermon on the Mount with these words: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” (Matthew 5:3-4) The road to eternal life begins with recognizing one’s failure – one’s spiritual bankruptcy – and grieving over it. It begins with humility. (“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” – verse 5) It’s like looking in a mirror and seeing yourself covered with mud – unacceptable to a holy God – and realizing there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. If perfection is required, we are all doomed to die in the dirt.

There’s so much more at stake here than in a horse-race. Titles fade, trophies gather dust, and roses wilt within days. But the race we’re running is about eternity – either in the glorious presence of God or away from Him in eternal darkness, from which there is no escape. (Talk about maximum security … !)

BUT GOD…

But our heavenly Father created us to be objects of love – He is love. (I John 4:8) He has made a way for us to become clean. Since perfection is required, atonement requires a perfect sacrifice (and that ain’t us, folks.). But God provided that perfect sacrifice – His sinless Son Jesus, who willingly died so we could be forgiven, clean, accepted by Him. When all is said and done, Billy Graham and Mother Teresa would be the first to tell you that they weren’t saved by anything they had done, but by the blood of Christ, shed for them.

The Prize

The winning horse at the Kentucky Derby was draped with a blanket of flawless red roses. And those of us who are covered with the blood of Jesus – those of us who have believed in His atoning death to save us – will be the winners, through no act of our own, other than placing our faith in the one Person who qualifies.

(He is the only One who ran a perfect race.)

Prayer: Lord Jesus, we acknowledge that we are helpless to save ourselves. Thank You for sacrificing Your own life to save us. Now that we are Yours, help us to run a good race, to live lives that represent You well, in Your name. Amen.

As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance and called out in a loud voice, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!”                           When he saw them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were cleansed.                                                                                                          One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him – and he was a Samaritan.           Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.”                                                                                                                                                        Luke 17: 12-19

 

The blogger’s post was timely. She wrote about how we feel when we’ve worked hard, pouring ourselves into a thankless job that never gets recognized. I had had that experience numerous times, and yes, it’s disappointing. But I’ve learned that whatever pain I may be going through, if I think about it, I realize that Jesus has gone through the same thing in one way or another. When I’m having that “unappreciated” feeling, I always remind myself that after Jesus had healed ten lepers, only one came back to thank Him, so why would I expect a better return for my efforts? At least I know I’m in good Company.

This particular day had taken things a step further. After pouring my life into someone for over a year, it wasn’t just that this person was not thanking me. That day I had been verbally attacked, called a couple of names I had never been called before, and heard the door slam on our friendship. …wow.

This experience, along with the blog’s reference to the ten lepers and the ingratitude of the nine, made me wonder: When Pilate asked the crowds what he should do with Jesus, were any of those nine lepers among those who shouted, “Crucify him!” ? Again, I reminded myself that I was in good Company.

Initially there was a moment of unexpected relief. I had started to wonder (and pray about) whether I was getting involved in a type of ministry God was not calling me to. I didn’t want to jump ship, but I also didn’t want to waste time running around doing someone else’s ministry while mine was left undone. My heart told me that God was releasing me from a job that was never His plan for me, and that was a good thing. But the memory of the insulting words threatened to take up residence in my head and cloud my view of life, even my view of myself.

I decided to just let the matter drop and make my retreat in the form of a long walk with my little dog, “Mr. Hollywood.”

It was a gorgeous spring day, and our neighborhood had burst into bloom. As I walked, I thanked God for the beautiful colors, the songs of the birds, and sweet fragrances that overwhelmed my senses.

I saw a man working in a yard where the lawn was full of the little white flowers I loved but couldn’t identify. I stopped and asked him what they were. When he replied in the most delightful dialect that he hadn’t the foggiest, I had to ask where he was from. He told me he was from London, England. As we chatted about our families and how we each ended up in Louisville, he suddenly looked past me and announced, “Here comes Tchaikovsky!”

A beautiful woman was walking toward us with a big, adorable, sad-eyed Basset hound (“Tchaikovsky”). As she stopped to say hello, I introduced myself and Mr. Hollywood and learned her name. This lovely lady was from Russia. I suddenly felt that I was at the United Nations rather than our little Southern suburb. (Yes, this really happened. I couldn’t make up this stuff.) After a brief visit with my two new friends, I headed back home, smiling at the way the Lord had been smiling on me. He knew that I loved meeting all kinds of people. One thing I love about blogging is that it allows me to connect with people all over the world, but meeting these two, face to smiling face, was the highlight of my day.

Another timely blog that same day reminded the readers to share a smile with people, even strangers, because you may be the only source of sunshine they have. It was a delight meeting the English gentleman and the Russian lady, and remembering how many nice people God has put in the world, and that these two actually liked me. I chuckled as I felt the balm of their smiles soothing my soul. I’m sure they had no idea God was using them to heal a sad heart.

On the way home I was walking with a spring in my step, and as corny as it sounds, I was stopping to smell the spring flowers and enjoy all their sweetness. As I was taking in the fragrance of a blossoming tree, a gust of wind shook the branches, showering my head with pink petals; I laughed and thanked the Lord again for being there, for loving me, and for the joy of being His child.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, thank You for all the times You healed people – of physical diseases, emotional wounds, and broken relationships. Most of all, thank You for giving Your life so we could be healed of sin and of death itself. Help us to remember these things with gratitude daily, and to pass our blessings on to others who need Your healing touch. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

 

 

 

For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me.                                     1 Corinthians 15:3-8 (ESV)

        “He Lives! (I Serve a Risen Savior)” – chorus:     

    “He lives! He lives! Christ Jesus lives today!
     He walks with me and talks with me along life’s narrow way.
     He lives! He lives, salvation to impart.
     You ask me how I know He lives?…     [Crescendo … drum roll … ]                            He LIVES  …  [dramatic pause]   …   within … my … heart!”

I know a lot of people love to sing that song at Easter, and I suppose I’m one of them, but that last line bothers me.

Yes, Jesus lives in my heart, and in the hearts of all who believe that He died for them, paying the price for their sins and rising again to life, just as He had promised He would.

Yes, we believe it, and we’d love for others to believe it.

But “He lives within my heart” is hardly a compelling argument for convincing the skeptics. I wouldn’t have a problem with the statement, except that there is such a huge amount of evidence for the Resurrection that is a lot more objective and logical, which could elicit more than an eye-roll from the as-yet unbelieving. (When my daughter was little she could just as easily have said that Santa, the Easter Bunny, or Barney lived within her heart.)

When the congregation is singing, “You ask me how … I know He lives …?” I want to jump in and shout: “Look at the evidence!”

The resurrection of Jesus is the most well-documented event in ancient history! What millions celebrate today, 2000 years later, was written down by historians who interviewed eye witnesses, as well as writers who were eye witnesses themselves. With all the enemies the Christian movement had from the beginning, no one was able to refute what these witnesses said. After all, Jesus was seen by over 500 men (and probably some women and children, too, though in those days they weren’t counted.). If Jesus hadn’t been raised, all His enemies had to do was produce the body and they would have saved themselves the hassle of arresting, imprisoning, torturing, and killing those pesky people who insisted that He was alive.

The best news of all is that in 2019 we can still enjoy the benefits of the atoning death of Jesus. When He cried, “It is finished!” on the Cross, He was saying our sins were “paid in full!” To confirm His declaration, at the moment Jesus died, the curtain in the Temple in Jerusalem was torn from top to bottom. This was the curtain that sealed off the “Most Holy Place” from everyone except the High Priest, who could only enter once a year. The tearing of the curtain symbolized the opening up the way between God and Man. If we accept Jesus’ death as payment for our sins, we are declared innocent and can now approach our heavenly Father freely as his children.

If Jesus didn’t rise from the dead, what did happen?

Here are some theories about what happened that day that turned the world upside down (or right side up, depending on your perspective): 

Theory 1: “The disciples stole the body and made up the story that Jesus had risen from the dead.” This was the original rumor, spread by the soldiers who had fainted upon seeing the Angel of the LORD at the Tomb. They could have paid with their lives for “falling asleep on duty,” but the chief priests, not wanting word of the Resurrection to get around, promised they’d keep the soldiers out of trouble if they would spread this lie. (Matthew 28: 11-15)

But when you think of it, who would have believed the soldiers’ story? Why in the world would a band of scared-to-death men, who the day before had been hiding from the Romans, want to stir up that much trouble? At Jesus’ arrest, all the disciples except Judas had fled, but then after that third day, they were willing to face persecution and death – for a hoax? You’d think at least one of them would have caved under torture. After all, who wants to be crucified upside down for the sake of a prank? 

Theory 2: “Jesus didn’t really die, He just swooned enough to fool the Romans … and the physician that signed His death certificate.” This is perhaps the most popular explanation among skeptics, though I can’t imagine why. The theory is that Jesus survived a Roman scourging (itself tantamount to a death sentence), hanging on the cross for hours, and being buried for three days without food, water, or medical attention, and then somehow healed up enough to roll away a two-ton stone, overcome the armed Roman guards, and declare Himself the risen Lord. … okay … 

Theory 3: The women went to the wrong tomb. And that means so did Peter, John, and the others. In fact, the real tomb of Jesus has yet to be found, but when it is, we’ll find His body!  … Uh-huh … 

Theory 4: The 500-plus people who saw Him alive were all having identical hallucinations … for 40 days.  (Seriously?)

OR…

“HE IS RISEN!”

Believe it!

Enjoy it!

And have a wonderful Resurrection Day!

 

Prayer: Jesus, thank You for sacrificing Your life as payment for our sins, so that we could be forgiven and have the life we didn’t deserve. We recognize Your sacrifice! We rejoice in Your Resurrection! We marvel at Your amazing love for us! May we live in celebration of You every day of our lives, in Your name, amen.

 

 

He himself bore our sins in his own body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.        I Peter 2:24

The St. Patrick’s Day quiz was so popular, and so many of you said you learned something new, I thought I’d see what y’all know about Good Friday…

Questions:

#1. When Jesus was arrested, which of the following did NOT happen?

A. All the soldiers arresting Him fell down.

B. A rooster crowed.

C. He healed someone.

D. A man ran away naked.

#2. True or false: Before the stone was rolled away from Jesus’ tomb, many other tombs were opened.

#3. At the moment when Jesus died, something was torn in two. What was it, and what was its significance?

 

Answers:

#1. B – Jesus had said that before the rooster crowed, Peter would deny Him three times. The predicted denials took place at later times during the night, before the rooster crowed. The other three things happened at the time Jesus was arrested:

A. According to John 18:6, when Jesus told the soldiers looking for Jesus of                           Nazareth, “I am He,” “They drew back and fell to the ground.”

C. According to Luke 22:51, after Peter cut off the ear of the high priest’s servant,                 “… Jesus answered, ‘No more of this!’ And he touched the man’s ear and                     healed him.”

D. According to Mark 14:50, as Jesus was being arrested, “everyone deserted him and fled.” Mark 14:51-52 tell us that “A young man, wearing nothing but a linen garment, was following Jesus. When  they seized him, he fled naked, leaving his garment behind.” Some scholars believe this was the gospel writer, Mark himself.

#2. True. According to Matthew 27: 51b- 53, “The earth shook and the rocks split. The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs, and after Jesus’ resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people.”

#3. The curtain of the temple that shut off the Most Holy Place. According to Matthew 27:50-51a, “And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom.”  This was the curtain that separated a holy God from men. The only person permitted to enter the “most holy place” was the high priest, and whoever held that office was only allowed to enter once each year, when he came to offer a blood sacrifice to atone for the sins that the people had committed that year. Hebrews 9 has a beautiful explanation of how Jesus, our High Priest, offered Himself as our sacrifice, paying for our sins with His own body. When the sacrifice was complete, the barrier between Man and God was removed.

If you are a believer and follower of Jesus Christ, the barrier between you and God has been removed, and you can approach your heavenly Father as His child, without a priest or saint, or angel, or any go-between. He’s as near as your next prayer. You can enjoy the relationship Jesus bought for you with such a heavy price.

If you are not a follower of Jesus, if you have not yet acknowledged Him as your Savior, the barrier of your sin is still there. I know, that sounds presumptuous and judgmental, referring to your sin. But “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God,” (Romans 3:23) so that includes you – and me. And “the wages of sin is death” – That’s eternal death. – “but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 6:23)

You can accept that gift today. You can change your spiritual state in a moment with a simple prayer. Maybe you’ve known this but have been putting off the decision for one reason or another. What better time than Good Friday to make the choice that will transform your life – and your eternity? Today’s prayer is one you may want to pray:

Jesus, thank You for dying in my place. I believe You took the punishment for my sins, and that You were raised from the dead. Today I am placing my faith in You as my Savior. Thank you for sacrificing Yourself so that I could have the gift of forgiveness and a new life. Help me now to live out the life You created me to live. Thank you for the promise of eternal life with You. Amen

 

I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings until the disaster has passed.                                                                                                                                                       Psalm 57:1b

It was one of those trips involving a drive to the airport, parking, a shuttle ride, first flight, layover, changing gates, and a second flight to the ultimate destination. I was not looking forward to a whole day of traveling, but since it was a done deal, I decided to make the best of it.

Of course, the way to make the best of traveling alone is realizing that I’m not really traveling alone. Driving down the highway, sitting on the shuttle, waiting at the gate, and staring out the window of an airplane are all opportunities to pray.

(You know, “pray.” That thing we’re always saying we don’t have time to do.)

When boarding a plane without assigned seats, I usually ask God to seat me next to the person He wants me to talk with. This habit has resulted in some interesting encounters. But this particular day the seat next to me was empty.

(Or was it?)

This was one of those rare and wonderful days when I had an unusual sense of the Lord’s presence. The more I spoke with Him, the more I seemed to hear His voice. I don’t remember if I “heard” anything specific, I just remember thoroughly enjoying being with Him, and I sensed that He was enjoying being with me, as well. My favorite worship songs were playing in my head all day, and happy memories of answered prayers gave me much to thank Him for as well as encouraging me to pray more. I can’t describe how this felt, other than just an incredible sense of peace and joy that made me want to hug somebody. As I walked through the airport, an unusual number of people smiled at me and even said “hello.” It occurred to me later that this was because I was smiling!

I sat “alone” again on my second flight, a little “puddle-jumper” flying from one Michigan town to another. There were few seats, and fewer passengers, one of them a woman who had never flown before. I’m not sure how I knew that, probably something about the way she gripped the armrests and asked the person next to her a lot of questions in a trembling voice…

In mid-flight we hit a patch of extreme turbulence that made the passengers gasp in unison. (I later learned that a tornado had passed that way moments before, and the airline had had no business letting us take off.)

While the plane bounced around, I could hear the poor first-time flyer muttering, “I’ll never fly again, I’ll never fly again…”

Meanwhile, I was having the time of my life. Though I sensed no fear whatsoever, I tried to suppress a giggle for the sake of the terrified. But I was feeling something I hadn’t experienced in many years – the joy of a small child being bounced on Daddy’s knee. I knew my Father was not going to allow me to leave this earth one moment before (or after) it was my time to “go home.” And since “home” was a good place, one way or another I was perfectly safe. Even if this turned out to be the last flight of my life, that meant I could be in heaven by the end of the day! Besides, as some would point out, statistically I was much safer in that airplane than in a car on the freeway.

A fellow blogger recently posted, “Are we afraid of the wrong things?” (Yes.)

Hikers in the desert might fear a rattlesnake bite more than excessive sun exposure, but skin cancer is much more common than rattlesnake bites. – True.

A father obsessed with the fear of not performing well at his job should possibly have more concern over what is influencing his children while he is working long hours. – Also true.

A young lady obsessed with losing weight should perhaps be more fearful of her tendency toward self-destructive behaviors than a few extra pounds. – All true.

The newest form of fear these days seems to be “FOMO” – “Fear Of Missing Out” –  especially with internet access 24/7. With this window to the world, the ability to communicate with anyone and everyone through messaging, videos, and pictures of what everyone else is doing can be overwhelming.  Trillions of articles and advertisements of what projects we “should” be embarking on, activities we “should” be enjoying, classes we “should” be taking, parties we “should” go to, causes we “should” support, places we “should” travel to, health supplements we “should” be taking – all these can leave us with a fear that we won’t be able to cram everything into our lives that we “should” be including.

[How long is your “bucket list”?]

Bottom Line

Of all the things that clutter our minds with reasons to fret, here’s the one thing we should really fear:

Many will reach the end of life and realize that they don’t have a relationship with the One who created them and had a purpose for their lives. How tragic it would be, at the end of a life of pursuing endless goals and avoiding our fears, to be taking our last breath and realize that, whatever we’ve “gained” in this world over our lifetime, we’ve actually missed everything.

If you suddenly find yourself concerned about this final fear, I invite you to check out the claims of Jesus Christ, who said He came to give us life abundantly. (John 10:10) He even claimed to be the only way to eternal life. (John 14:6)

(I believe Him.)

Prayer: LORD, we know it is not Your will that we should fret and be fearful about things in this world. Draw us to Yourself in an intimate relationship. Order our lives, making them what they should be. Teach us to trust You, so that, rather than living in fear, we can enjoy being the children You delight in, in Jesus’ name. Amen

 

 

 

 

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.”                 II Timothy 4:7-8

 

“So, if everyone else jumps off a cliff…”

Our Bible study group was in I Samuel, reading about Israel’s wanting a king so that they could be “like everybody else,” and the prophet Samuel’s reluctantly agreeing. (I Samuel 8) He anointed the young man Saul, (I Samuel 9) and later Saul was chosen by the people to be king (I Samuel 10) – although finding him hiding in the baggage did not give a great first impression!

According to Scripture, there were some “troublemakers” present who spoke ill of Saul and despised him that day. Most of the people, however, judging by outward appearance, accepted the tall, handsome man as the leader they had been wanting.

Yikes!

In chapter 11 of I Samuel, we read that the city of Jabesh had been besieged by the Ammonites. Although all the men of Jabesh surrendered and offered to serve their enemies, for the sadistic Ammonite leader, Nahash, surrender wasn’t enough. He wanted to gouge out the right eye of every man in the city and “bring disgrace on all Israel.” The men of Jabesh negotiated with Nahash and managed to buy seven days in which to send messengers throughout Israel and see if anyone would come and rescue them. (Since Israel was scattered at that time, we figured Nahash probably didn’t expect a rescue. Perhaps he was anticipating further humiliation for the city when no one cared enough to help them.)

“My, how you’ve grown!”

But when Saul got their message, he appeared a far cry from the young man who had hidden himself, not wanting to be king! “[T]he Spirit of the LORD came upon him in power, and he burned with anger.” (I Samuel 11:6) He forcefully mustered 330,000 men who ambushed Israel’s enemies in their camp on the last night, continuing to slaughter and scatter them into the next day. Jabesh was saved!

While celebrating this great victory, some fiercely loyal men wanted to kill those who had formerly despised Saul, but “Saul said, ‘No one shall be put to death today, for this day the LORD has rescued Israel.'” (I Samuel 11:13)

Okay, that’s enough…

It would have been  a great encouragement, seeing how a timid young man had risen to be a great and humble king, who gave Jehovah credit for Israel’s victory.

Trouble was, I had already read this story, numerous times.

“Can we just stop here?” I asked sadly, knowing the answer. I really didn’t want to go on to “the rest of the story.”

Saul was one of those tragic characters in the Bible who started out with the Spirit of the LORD empowering him to do great things. But by the end of I Samuel, Saul had deteriorated into a paranoid, irrational tyrant, whose reign ends like a Shakespearean tragedy, with his taking his own life.

What went wrong?

There were multiple factors – ego, selfish ambition, jealousy, even going so far as consulting a witch to bring up the spirit of the departed Samuel. But it all began with taking his eyes off the God he was so quick to credit at the beginning, and onto self. 

Although I don’t like to read about the fall of people who had been so promising at the beginning, it’s a good thing for me to do. I have known the LORD most of my life, and He has done marvelous things for me and through me – things I never could have done myself. Now one of the prayers that I pray repeatedly is:

“Help me finish well.”

Salvation is not something you do once and then go back to business as usual. It isn’t walking an aisle, signing a card, raising a hand or standing up in a service.

It’s a commitment of one’s whole life, and renewing that commitment daily, “offering your bodies as living sacrifices” (Romans 12:1) and being daily “transformed by the renewing of your mind.” (verse 2)

It’s confessing every known sin and receiving forgiveness, letting God purify you from all unrighteousness. (I John 1:9) It’s taking sin seriously enough to confess and repent immediately, and taking God seriously enough that you don’t continue to condemn yourself after He has forgiven you.

It’s recognizing and rejecting the lies of the enemy: that God isn’t real, or that He’s unfair, or that He’s given up on you, or He doesn’t really care about you – and why would He, since you’re so [fill in the blank]? It’s knowing God’s Word well enough to combat those lies with Truth.

It’s acknowledging daily our utter dependence on the LORD and His utter dependability. It’s asking Him to make us sensitive to the first hint of proud or self-sufficient attitudes, and running to Him for help when they rear their ugly heads.

It’s never letting the thought cross your mind that you have arrived and don’t have any more growing to do. It’s always looking for what God’s next plan is for your life, and believing that as long as you have breath in your lungs, He has a purpose for your being here.

It’s believing that God works all things together for the good of His children. (Romans 8:28) It’s looking at every situation for the good in it, and if you can’t find the good, trusting the LORD that it’s there, and He has a plan for you that is better than you know.

And all the while we are running the race, it’s realizing that nothing we do saves us. It’s still all God. It always has been.

Prayer: LORD God, source of all life and everything that’s good, You have brought us so far. Now help us to finish well, in Jesus’ name. Amen. 

 

 

“I tell you the truth,” Jesus replied, “no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel, will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age … and in the age to come, eternal life.”

                                                                                                  Mark 10: 29-30

People in general don’t like making sacrifices, and young people, it seems, are especially reluctant to let go of the things they enjoy for the sake of an unseen or future reward. But when God lays it on the the heart of a teenager that something’s got to go, that teenager just might surprise you. And he or she just might get surprised at what transpires, as well.

Our daughter Joanna always loved the Lord dearly. She seemed to enjoy the praise and worship music at church and the contemporary Christian music we played on the local radio station. But somewhere along the way secular music started seeping into our home, and although I didn’t object to the idea of secular music per se, as a parent (and former teen), I knew some lyrics could be inappropriate for a Christian to be listening to.

Joanna’s favorite secular songs were fairly innocuous, but when she bought a CD of her favorite band, a few of their songs made me cringe. When I questioned her about them, I was met with an eye roll and assurance that they weren’t the songs she liked on that album. I dropped the subject and decided I would just pray about it for then.

The weekend of the high school retreat was a quiet one at our house until I answered the phone late Friday night.

I could hear loud music and singing in the background. Apparently the kids were really getting “into” the worship. But something else grabbed my attention: Joanna was crying.

“Mom?” she sobbed.

“What it it, honey?”

“Would you do something for me?”

“Sure, sweetie.”

“You know that _____________ CD?”

“Your favorite?”

“Yeah. Would you go get it?”

“OK … Got it.”

“Are you holding it?”

“Yes …”

“I want you to break it.” (I’ll skip the dialogue where I made sure she was serious and wasn’t going to be livid with me when she got home.) I agreed and did as she said, although I must say, they made those things tough! I struggled for some time while Joanna impatiently kept crying, “Just break it!” (“I’m trying!“) She said she’d explain when she got home, but I already knew God was doing something that weekend.

As I suspected, the youth leader, Chad, had been speaking to the youth about dedicating themselves to the Lord in every area of their lives, including entertainment. Chad had always been passionate about bringing kids into a strong relationship with Christ, and his messages were as emotional as he was. Joanna had commented once, “Even when he yells at us, we can tell he loves us.” During the closing, as the students sang and some went forward for special prayer, God had been dealing with Joanna about the songs she had been listening to. And Joanna had responded in a characteristically emotional outpouring of devotion.

Back home, she spent the rest of the day sitting on the floor in her room in tears, breaking CD’s and pulling tape out of cassettes, until a pile of shards and streamers surrounded her.

I sat next to her and told her how proud I was, but that didn’t seem to cheer her up much. I suggested she take the shards and tape and make a piece of art out of them as a gift for Chad. We got two pieces of driftwood from the beach and nailed them together to make a cross. Joanna then used the tape to hang pieces of broken CDs. Joanna thought it looked like “junk.” I liked it and assured her that Chad would love it.

We named the masterpiece “Sacrifice.”

I was right. When presented with his gift, Chad got tears in his eyes (He and Joanna related.), and said it was about the greatest gift he’d ever received. He told us that he would hang it in his office, to encourage him next time he started feeling that none of the kids were listening to him.

“So, how do you feel now that you’ve purged that music out of your collection?” he asked her, smiling.

“I feel terrible,” she answered frankly, tearing up again. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to listen to now!”

Chad knew just what to do. He brought us to his study, where he had shelves full of dozens, if not hundreds of CD’s – all Christian music.

“I have pretty much every style of music you would like. And you can borrow any of it any time you want. There’s a lot here I think you’d love.”

That day opened up a whole new world for Joanna. She discovered great Christian artists that she could listen to all she wanted, guilt-free. Never without an opinion, she began writing reviews of new albums every month for the youth group newsletter. When a well-known Christian band was in the area for a concert, as a published “music critic,” Joanna was given a backstage pass to interview the band members in their dressing room. (An official badge told the world she was not a “groupie” but a bona fide member of the press!) Her peers had to admit this was “totally awesome.” I was elated for her.

But what made me happiest was knowing that she had obeyed the voice of God, not knowing whether or not she would ever gain anything from the sacrifice she was making.

After all, that is the definition of “sacrifice.”

Prayer: Jesus, You gave everything for us. Forgive us for clinging to things we consider ours, when You long to give us better things. Help us to trust You and make whatever sacrifices necessary to bring You glory. In Your name we pray, Amen.