Say "I Do"

God reminded me recently of a time in my childhood when I was overwhelmed by the fear of death.  I saw myself, a little girl in the middle of the night, huddled up on the stairs leading to my parents’ bedroom, not wanting to wake them, but so terrified of dying that I could not sleep.  Raised as a Jehovah’s Witness, I had learned in that religion that unless you were one of the 144,000 special ones, when you died, you just ceased to be.  My ten year old brain could not handle that concept, of just ceasing to exist.  I used to implore God to let me live on:  “Just put me on a cloud somewhere looking down on at the living ones”, I would pray.  “Just don’t erase me from being.”  I was plagued with fear, especially in the quiet, nighttime hours.

A few years later, my parents were going through divorce.  Then 13 years old, that precarious age of finding out who you are, I was devastated by the months of uncertainty, losing the presence of a father in my home, and watching my mother struggle to provide for us in her pain.  One night as I cried uncontrollably, I looked out into the night sky and prayed, “God, if there is a God, help me.” 

Not long after my faithless prayer to a God who might or might not be real, Mom’s financial need lead her to answer an ad for a babysitting job in the church nursery at a local Baptist church.  The church family reached out to us.  They invited our family to church while Mom was babysitting, and brought us kids into their youth group.  My brother, Dave, sister, Roberta and I attended a youth group outing to see the Billy Graham move, “The Restless Ones”.  When an invitation was given to receive Jesus as Savior, we all three went to the rear of the theatre and invited Jesus into our hearts.  It was May 9, 1966. 

A full year later, I celebrated my first Easter as a child of God.  My family and I got up super early and went to the sunrise service to rejoice first thing in the morning over the amazing hope we have because Jesus rose from the dead and conquered death.  That hope was very personal to me.  I knew that Christ’s resurrection from the dead was not just a historical event, for I discovered that first Easter that something was also resurrected in me.  I realized that at some point during my first year as a Christian, my fear of death had disappeared!  There was no more fear of “ceasing to exist”.  I knew that my Jesus had conquered death, and I would now live forever in the safety of the Father’s arms.

Two dear friends, John and Cathy Hicks used to sing a song that made me want to jump out of my seat, wave my hands and shout, “I DO!”

Anyone here wanna live forever, say “I do”.

Anyone here wanna walk on golden streets, say “I do”.

Anyone here sick and tired of living like you do?

Anyone here want a home with love forever?

Say “I do”.

I DO!

“…That They May Be One…” John 17:11

I had a dream last night that I was with a group of Christian friends, riding horses.  Our horses were running with their glorious tails flowing out behind them, except for my horse.  My horse’s tail was shredded, chopped off and not at all elegant like the other horses.  Then I heard the Teacher, instructing another rider in a gentle but firm tone,   “You must not allow your horse to bite another horse’s tail.  You have to control your horse”.  I then realized that my horse’s shredded tail was the result of this other horse’s gnawing teeth.  In spite of my horse’s appearance, we continued running with the rest of the group.

When I awoke I got my coffee and sat down at the computer to check my email.  The latest “Elijah List” had a word from Doug Addison about five ways that the enemy is attacking the church.  The fifth method was judgment and criticism, tail biting if you will, from other believers.  Addison writes:

The fifth plan is to get Christians to continually accuse one another. Accusations and negative talk will quickly slow down your process of promotion. There are more verses in the Bible about not judging others than there are about what many would consider major sins. See, for example, Matthew 7:1-5, James 4:11-12, and John 8:7, to name a few. Jesus said to bless those who curse you. Find ways to let go of your differences and bless the person instead. It will change the situation around for good… A wounded heart is a distracted heart, and now is the time to watch and wait for what God has released for us.

Later, another email appeared in my inbox, an article from an old friend, Christian speaker and writer, Jim Biscardi, entitled “Inspirational Article on Church Unity”.  Jim writes:

All believers are in the midst of a great spiritual battle. The competition between Christians, churches, and denominations are a result of Satan’s strategy to destroy our unity and weaken our witness.  Satan has a game plan for Christians. I believe it is spelled out in Galatians 5:15, “If you keep on biting and devouring each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.”  It is sad, but true that much of the persecution in the Christian life comes from within the Church. In Zechariah 13:6, when the Lord returns and the kingdoms of this world become the kingdom of our Lord and His Christ (Revelation 11:15), the Jews will look upon the wounds of Christ, “And one shall say unto him, ‘What are these wounds in your hands?’  Then he shall answer, ‘Those with which I was wounded in the house of my friends.’”

The past two Sundays, our teachings at Shore Vineyard Church in Beachwood, NJ have been on community. Last Saturday our church was involved in two separate events, one in Toms River, NJ, one in Landenberg, PA, where different churches were invited to come together in prayer and worship.  I believe God is highlighting in a very distinct way how incredibly important to his heart is the unity of his Church, his Bride.  Let’s pay close attention.

The Key is in the Lock

On Christmas Eve, 2011, as I cleaned up the dishes in the house where I have lived for over 20 years, I noticed for the first time that the antique looking door handles on my kitchen cabinets are made to resemble antique locks with the keys inserted.  That is amazing for several reasons. 

When Jimmy and I moved into this house we were not into antiques.  It was not until the kids got older and we ventured on outings with just the two of us that we began to frequent antique shops.  We slowly found a love for all things mission style from the Arts & Crafts Movement.  We began replacing our “modern” furniture with 100+ year old chairs and bookcases made of wonderful quarter sawn oak.

More recently Jimmy and I have been drawn to antique locks with the skeleton keys.  We have not been able to afford to buy any locks – they are quite expensive and desirable to collectors – but we have collected some keys.  Some are simple, utilitarian keys; some have ornate designs on the handle shaped like hearts or Victorian gingerbread.  And now I realize that this new interest, keys and locks has been staring me in the face for over twenty years.  How sweet of God to put in there years before it meant anything to me, before I could even recognize what it was, so that now I would receive it as yet another kiss from the Father.

Another development in our ever changing lives has been learning to hear God’s voice through our eyes, ears and hearts.  So when God pointed out the keys and locks on my kitchen cabinets today, I knew he was saying something special to me. As I got ready to  head up to the Christian bookstore for some last minute Christmas gifts I spied on my dresser a flameworked glass key that Jimmy had made on the torch for me.  I have been wearing it on a ribbon as a pendant.  I felt God wanted me to bring the key to the bookstore and give it to the manager, Don. Sadly, the store is going out of business after being the only Christian bookstore in the area for many years.  Jimmy and I had met Don a few weeks earlier and prayed over him for God to guide and show him the next chapter in his life. 

As I drove up the parkway I felt that God gave me the rest of the message.  I felt he was saying to me, “The key is in the lock; all you have to do is turn the key”.  Antique locks are wonderful and I would have been happy to see antique locks on my cabinet doors.  I would have been equally delighted to see handles shaped like antique keys.  But what I had was the complete package, the key right in the lock, ready to be turned, ready to open the new door, the treasure chest, the next page of my life.  It was his promise to me of his provision for the New Year.  It was his promise to the Church for her future assignments.  It was his promise to Don.  He has already given us the keys to unlock the challenges, mysteries, and assignments in front of us. 

I shared the words with Don.  I share the words now with you.  Dear Ones, embrace what God is placing in front of you.  Don’t be upset or worried about how you’re going to pull it off.  The key is already in the lock.  All you have to do is turn the key.  

Who's Your Daddy?

I remember the daddy of my childhood before my parents’ divorce in one fearful episode after the other.  I was afraid of my dad.  He was the capricious, angry authority, and you had to try to discern his mood before approaching him.  When Dad disciplined my brother one time, he took him upstairs to my parents’ bedroom and shut the door.  Although I did not see what went on I could hear my brother rolling across the floor as Dad threw him around the room, and my brother’s screams.  No wonder all five of us kids tiptoed around our dad.

I heard a pastor on the radio recently, talking about how when he heard his twin girls stirring upstairs in their room in the mornings, he would station himself at the bottom of the stairs.  When the girls emerged from their room to come down to breakfast, they would find their daddy, his arms flung wide and a huge smile on his face, waiting to enfold them in his arms.  What a very different memory those little girls will have of their dad, then I have of mine.

Thankfully, I no longer walk about as a victim of a misguided parent.  I know about the loveless upbringing my dad experienced, and I forgive him for mistakes he made.  But more than choosing not to act as a victim, or to forgive, is the fact that I am the daughter of another Father now, and I am walking in that identity.  It wasn’t an immediate realization for me when I first accepted the right God offered me to be called his child.  There were still plenty of times I tiptoed around God so as not to offend him, and tried to win his favor by doing good works.  But now I know that he’s my Daddy. 

God is the perfect Daddy.  I don’t have to hide from him, since he always knows what I am doing, what I am thinking.  I don’t disappoint him, since disappointment only results from someone not meeting your expectations for them (as so wonderfully put in The Shack).  God always knows what I am going to do whether wise or foolish, so there are no expectations involved, no disappointment that follows.  Sorrow sometimes, yes, for when I don’t choose the good things he has for me, but not disappointment in me.  Like the pastor daddy, God’s arms are always flung wide to embrace me.

And I don’t have to earn my Daddy’s favor to get in his good graces.  I know that all he wants from me is to trust him, to believe him.  The bible tells me (Hebrews 11:6) that it’s my faith that pleases him, not trying to do everything right, to perform for him. 

So here I am, loved by my Father, secure in my relationship as his chosen, adopted daughter.  I know who my Daddy is. 

Pikachu, Pikachu! Daddy’s girl, Daddy’s girl!

This morning I was helping my eight year old grandson, Owen establish his own blog where he intends to publish original Pokemon stories. Now I have to confess, I know very little about Pokemon.  But as we were researching, we discovered another Pokemon themed blog by a guy named Bob who explained something very amazing about Pokemon.  Bob states: 

“Each Pokemon has a name.  If you don’t catch what the name is, the little monster will helpfully tell you all the time.  That’s how they communicate.  Dogs bark, cats meow, Pokemon say their name.  They say it happily, sadly; they can say their names with more inflections than a surfer can say  ‘dude’.” http://radioflyer1980.wordpress.com/2009/05/29/pikachu-gesundheit/

So I asked Owen these questions:  Does a Pikachu say “pikachu, pikachu” because he is a pikachu?  Or is he a pikachu because he says “pikachu, pikachu”? Owen says, he’s a Pikachu first, and that’s why he speaks his name.  It’s all about identity.

What do I speak that lets people around me know who I am, even if they have never met me or known me?  What do my words say about who I am?  Do I walk around saying “life stinks”, or “woe is me”, or “why do the other people always win and I always lose”.  Do my words and inflection communicate that I feel like I am worthless or unloved?  Sometimes, regretfully, they do.

But that is not who I am.  So I need to take a lesson from Pokemon and start reminding myself of who I am and make sure that my words communicate that not only to those around me, but to myself as well.  Let me start here and now with these words, “said”, as Bob suggests, with a joyous, exuberant inflection, (can you hear it?): “Daddy’s girl! Daddy’s girl”. 

That is who I am.  I am a child of the Most High God, adopted into his family, precious to his heart, with all the rights of sonship/daughership including an amazing inheritance guaranteed by the deposit of his Holy Spirit living in me now.

What’s your name?

Disarmed and Dangerous.

God just did some amazing things in my family, and totally blew me away.  I was left feeling disarmed before God.  Which means that prior to this week, I was armed before God.  Let me explain.

Did you ever want something really bad, but you were afraid to ask for it, much less to hope for it?  It’s like you were holding yourself back from really going all out for what your heart was craving, because you just knew you’d never have it.  It’s like arming yourself against disappointment.

Sometimes I arm myself against disappointment, even in my prayers.  I may pray the religiously acceptable way of “Your will be done”.  That, after all, is a biblical way to pray, right? Jesus himself prayed that way in the Garden of Gethsemane.  But sometimes, if I look deep into my own heart I find that I am praying that way because I am believing lies that trap me more often than I care to admit.  “Heal that person, if it be your will,” I pray, when I am too fearful to ask for total healing based on God's word that says “By his stripes (on the cross) we are healed.”  I know he can heal, but seem to waiver on whether he wants to or not.  Such capriciousness is not what a good God looks like.  So I realize I am acting on the belief that God is not good, or that he doesn’t care, which means he doesn’t really love me. 

So when God did some major healing work in my family recently, I found myself dropping my defenses before him.  I realized that when he does things his way, the results are astounding.  I realized that I had no reason to hold myself back in safe praying, safe living anymore.  I could trust this amazing God to do what I never imagined would happen.  And do it without any help from me! 

I want to be the trusting child who comes before her daddy, asks for big things and trusts him to do big things.  He has shown me who he is, and now asks me to trust him for tomorrow, and the weeks to come.   

Come Alongside: This marvelous thing called prayer!

Recently a girlfriend I look up to asked me to come along on a speaking engagement she had, to support her and pray for her and share as I felt led.  I was so honored and blessed to be invited to be her “right hand gal” that day, and rejoiced with her when her words opened so many hearts that day.

I was reminded today about how God also invites me to come along with him on his “engagements”, to support him and pray with him about what he is doing.  I am so honored that he trusts me with the things on his heart, just like my girlfriend.

When the prophet, Daniel was in captivity in Babylon he understood from the prophecies of other prophets before him that the 70 year captivity was nearing its end.  Instead of just sitting back, relieved that God’s people would soon be going home to Israel, Daniel fasted and prayed for the exiles’ release from Babylon and return to Israel.  Why would he pray for what God has already promised and agreed to do?  In the natural, that scenario is quite odd.  If your friend tells you she is going to take you to a concert for your birthday, you don’t ask her or remind her again and again to take you to the concert.  But that is what Daniel did.  He took the prophecy, the revelation of what God intended to do, as God’s invitation for him to come alongside and pray the thing through.  So it is that God puts the desires of his own heart on those ones who are seeking him, and they get to pray in those things to completion, and then rejoice at the outcome.

So we sing and pray, “Break my heart for what breaks yours”, oh, God, and we will rejoice with you as your will is done on earth as it is in heaven.