Monthly Archives: January 2020

What’s Left After the Fire?

Posted on by
Reply

My grandparent’s house burnt when I was in fifth grade.  It was a total loss. It literally burnt to the ground.  They lived out in the country before the rural fire district covered their area.  No fire trucks came.  They stood out in the ice-cold December weather watching all they had worked for go up in flames. There was no home insurance on the property so they literally had to start from scratch and rebuild their lives. The generosity of neighbors and friends helped them to start the process, and within a few years they had regained much of what they lost.  

I can remember, as a kid being amazed at how everything was gone.  Grandpa and Grandma did manage to escape their house with a few belongings: a tv, a few of my Grandma’s paintings she had made, and a sewing machine. But all the things that made their house, their house was only ashes.  I would walk around, dig in the ashes, and think that maybe I would find something of significance in the rubble, but I only found melted metal and glass.  It impacted me deeply to think about how quickly ever thing can be gone. Every thing with the exception of a stone wall that was part of the front of the house. It stood.

That old farm house had wiring issues that started the blaze in the attic.  It’s really no surprise that it smoldered and then burnt so quickly.  When it was built no fire-retardant materials were a consideration.  Sprinkler systems weren’t even an option.  In fact, the stories I recall of my grandparents standing outside the house thinking of their brand-new smoke detector (the first they had ever owned) still in the box, and how they made it out alive by “chance” that Grandpa happened to look up in a certain area of the house and see flames leaping, was kind of amazing in my child like mind.  After all, it was the early 80’s technology, as we know it, was just in it’s beginning stages and home fire protection was a new thing so smoke detectors weren’t as common. 

This morning I have been reflecting on 1 Corinthians 3:11-15. TPT and how it applies to my life.  “For no one is empowered to lay an alternative foundation other than the good foundation that exists, which is Jesus Christ! The quality of materials used by anyone building on this foundation will soon be made apparent, whether it has been built with gold, silver, and costly stones, or wood, hay, and straw. Their work will soon become evident, for the Day will make it clear, because it will be revealed by blazing fire! And the fire will test and prove the workmanship of each builder. If his work stands the test of fire, he will be rewarded.  If his work is consumed by the fire, he will suffer great loss. Yet he himself will barely escape destruction, like one being rescued out of a burning house.” My grandparents made it out, but had they not seen the coming danger that night as they went to bed, they very easily could have not. So many of us live our lives this way.  We carelessly allow the things that are not profitable to build our lives. Things that won’t stand the test of the fire of time.  We go along with our warning signals to impending danger, disconnected and laying away in a box.  We are content with the possibility of “barely escaping destruction” because we would rather build our houses our way than to spend our time consulting “The Master Builder” and asking Him for the eternal material to build our lives with. 

Our Master Builder, Jesus, wants us to prosper and to be built magnificently containing all the best of His life building materials he has available to us. The materials that withstands the hurricane force winds of life that will try to reduce us to a pile of rubble, or the flame retardant strong materials that deflects the leaping flames of trials and temptations that if allowed to catch fire to anything in our lives would quickly leave us with ashes, emptiness and smoldering smoke or a life in ruin. 

The choice is ours of whom we will have as the chief contractor of our lives: Jesus, the eternal builder, or ourselves, short sighted and ill equipped. 

The reality of the situation is that we will face the fire in some fashion or form.  The question is will what I have built be able to stand? Will I, at the end of my life, be able to look upon a building of fine materials that God placed within my walls? Or will I watch the hay and stubble of carelessness go up in flames and hope to escape with my shirt on my back?  The only way to be assured of these answers is to stay close to our Master Builder and watch diligently what I allow to build my life.  Because what He gives me to build with is very good, and because of His great love, His design for my life is perfect. 

 

Grandpa’s Radio and Lessons in Listening

Posted on by
Reply

My Grandpa was a welder and a machinist. He worked out of a shop on his farm in a small rural community. He loved to be in his shop. When I was little I always found it intriguing to go out to his shop and watch him weld. He would give me a mask and the sparks would fly. There was a distinct hum of busyness in his shop when he was in it. It would drown out the one constant noise that was always present whether Grandpa was there or not, a radio. Grandpa had the same old radio on day and night 24/7 in the room, on a shelf, next to his lathe. I guess it kept him company as he worked long hours. He loved to listen to the local news, the swap shop, and the local personalities as they broadcasted daily.

I’ve been reflecting this week on listening to God and hearing His voice. As I contemplated how much I need to listen for God to speak to me, I thought about Grandpa’s radio. So many times I would go to his shop and it was always playing. For decades it played, with exception of the occasional power outage. Sometimes I would hear it distinctly. But other times I would not hear it over the humming of Grandpa’s lathe or the banging of a hammer. However it was always there. I would hear it if I chose to listen.

God’s voice is similar to Grandpa’s radio. The humming of life drowns out His still small whisper. Not because the humming is more powerful, but because I choose to focus on it. Sometimes the banging and clatter of life’s messy circumstances try to drown out His voice as well. They try to distract me from turning my ear towards God. It’s easy to get distracted.

The point of all this is God definitely speaks. He promises me in no uncertain terms that it is possible to hear Him. In John 10:27, Jesus promises that “My sheep hear my voice…”. It’s the way He has designed this relationship. He is the good Shepherd who calls to me and I am the sheep who hears. In fact, He encourages “Whoever has ears to hear, let him hear.” He wants us to listen to Him because what He speaks are words of life. I am the one who must pause and listen to hear what He has to say.

One of the voices that tends to shut out His words of life and peace is the voice of anxiety that tends to bang and clamor louder than Grandpa’s hammer on a busy work day. It not only shouts, but it consistently nags from inside distracting from the joy and peace that Jesus died and rose again to give. The thing about it is it can take willful practice to learn how to tune it out and switch the channel in your mind and heart to listen to the good voice of the Prince of Peace. For me, it takes a daily time sitting in the still of my house before everyone wakes up and my day hums at a volume louder than the constant quiet sounds of the gentle ticking of my wall clock or the air quietly blowing through our heat ducts. I sit in that quiet place and read a scripture and listen. Pretty soon I can focus in on His voice that has always been there. That same beautiful voice has the power to silence the storms inside and outside of me. The Gentle voice of Peace, Love, Joy, and Goodness has never stopped speaking to me. It was that He was only waiting for me to focus in and listen. Like I did many times as I stood in the open door of Grandpa’s shop wondering if what turned into a legend among us grandkids was true. “Does Grandpa’s radio always play?” Yes it does. It is a constant. His radio never was shut off. “Does God have something to say?” Yes He does. He never left me alone. I just need to listen.

My Heavenly Father’s Workbench (Originally written 5/11/17)

Posted on by
Reply
When I was growing up, my dad had a large wooden workbench in his garage. It was the place my dad took things that needed to be fixed. Car parts, plumbing, broken furniture, etc. would find its way to the workbench. It was understood that if something needed to be fixed we could put it on his workbench, and when he had time after he got off of work and went into his garage, he would take a look at it. Usually it would come back to me repaired. My dad always had a knack for fixing broken things.
This morning I have been reflecting on Isaiah 30:15-16, 18.
“This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says:
“In repentance and rest is your salvation,
in quietness and trust is your strength,
but you would have none of it.
You said, ‘No, we will flee on horses.’
Therefore you will flee!
You said, ‘We will ride off on swift horses.’
Therefore your pursuers will be swift!
Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you;
therefore he will rise up to show you compassion.
For the Lord is a God of justice.
Blessed are all who wait for him!”
How often I want to trust in my own self to fix the broken things in my life? How often do I refuse the comfort and compassion of God for situations as I, as the verse says, would rather trust in my own horses and my own strength?
It occurred to me that my Heavenly Father has a workbench, a place I can take my broken things and leave them. He has a place that if I would only recognize that it is not worth me holding on to the broken pieces, but would let Him have it, He can take them and make them better than new. He is waiting for me to have the childlike faith that I used to have for my earthy daddy, knowing that if I just leave it on His bench and not mess with it anymore, my Heavenly Daddy can fix anything.
It’s not easy letting go. Especially when you like to have control, but holding on to the things that are broken in our lives and hiding in our rooms with them, staring at the mess, turning it over and over, studying it, will never solve anything.
We need to place it on God’s workbench, and walk away. Confident that He is able to take care of us no matter what we find broken in our lives.

The Joneses and Me- A Reflection on Storms

Posted on by
Reply

My husband got laid off the year I was pregnant with our firstborn.  Somehow, we were able to survive on my $4/hour job for 5 months.  It was the 90’s so things weren’t as expensive then, but still it was tight.  I can remember trying to find maternity clothes at the Goodwill and scraping by. My husband looked and looked for a job. We both believed it was God’s will for me to be able to stay home and take care of our baby after he was born.  We knew he needed to find one that made around $10/ hr.  (Our financial goals were survival at the time) The job placement service of his tech school was sending him out for much less.  

In the mean time I kept going to work and one of my coworkers would almost daily come in from the warehouse to the office where I was a secretary.  He would ask me how the job search for my husband was going and then would say, “When is that bum husband of yours going to go and get a job and take care of his pregnant wife?”  I would hop in my car at the end of the day and cry most of the way home.  Several times I would turn on the Christian radio station and hear a song by Big Tent Revival named “Two Sets of Jones”.  It told the story of two couples starting out their lives. One was well to do, but lacked a relationship with Jesus.  The other was more like us, poor monetarily, yet walking with God.  There was the phrase in the song that said, “Ruben and Sue, they had nothing but Jesus and at night they would pray that he would care for them each.” I would hear it and cry out a prayer to God, “God you KNOW we have nothing but Jesus.  Nothing but you.” Long story short, my husband started the job that allowed me to stay home with our son the day after we came home from the hospital, we never missed a bill, and some 25 years later, we walk in tremendous blessing.  

I’ve been contemplating the storms of life the past couple of weeks.  I’ve been thinking about what the Bible has to say about different storms.  There were storms He spoke after, Storms He spoke to, Storms He took naps during, Storms that blew His servant Paul off course and caused him to be shipwrecked on an island.  Then there was the reference Jesus made in His parable to the storms and the houses that they blew on.  One house withstood the storm.  One house did not.  The common denominator in that story was there most certainly was a storm.  Matthew 7:24-27 NIV tells the story.

“Therefore, everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”

The comparison of the houses pointed to the foundation they were built on: One the Rock, one sand.   

I’d like to say that in our 20’s my husband got the job and our storms were over. That one was, but the nature of life on planet earth has provided many other storms for us to weather. I’ve often said that like the disciples on that stormy sea, the best place to be during a storm is in the boat with Jesus.  He alone has the power to calm it. He alone can see you through.  He alone gives purpose in the midst of it, and though it may take time, we always see He was there at work when nothing made sense during the intensity of it. 

I take quite a bit of comfort when I think of Jesus being the Prince of Peace.  The anxiety that roars from time to time is quieted at His word.  HE is the difference I have seen while raising my family, during the joyful times of sunshine or the uncertainty of storms and He is the difference today.

https://youtu.be/KQE5PNRLZ40

Just Come

Posted on by
Reply

I tend to complicate things, and sometimes the image I present to you may become more important than the content of my heart. I want you to see the good things about me. Especially when I present it on social media. You would know I am having the worst possible day of my life if I posted a status of “having a horrible day, my life really stinks”. I reserve that kind of feeling and show for those closest to me, my inner circle. I want to put on a good show.

I believe that is how a lot of us approach God. We tend to base our relationship with Him on our external display of our piety. “Look at me God, I gave some money.” “Look at me God, I did a good deed. ” “Look at me God, I am sacrificing my time, talents, and abilities in Church programs to prove my devotion to you.”

Our displays of devotion are microcosms of displays that other “devotees” around the world put forward to try to “pay” the price to somehow make themselves right.

Years ago I was struck by images I saw of a group of Filipinos on Good Friday. They tried to show their devotion to God by literal self flagellation and ultimately crucifying each other. I was shocked at how the report said these poor people would crawl on hands and knees for miles to a church to offer their acts of penance to God in hopes of His acceptance of them. “Here I am God. Look how much devotions I have. I have beaten myself, crawled for miles and allowed those around me to drive literal nails in my hands to display my devotion.”

So sad!

This morning I have been reflecting on Matthew 6:5-6 NIV in my time with God.

“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

Jesus spelled out in very plain words the way to approach Him: intimately as a child with their father in a private place, secretly. One on one.

There’s no set of rules, requirements, and expectations to be met. Simply come.

Come as you are afraid, doubting, and heartbroken. Trade these in, in the secret place for faith, boldness, and peace as you pour out your heart to Him. Nothing complicated or impossible. Simple humbleness before the One who desires to mold us and fashion us there in that secret place to be what He always intended for us to be.

I’m always awed by the size of a mustard seed. It is smaller than the font I have chosen to write this blog. Yet that is the size of what Jesus said our Faith could be and still move mountains. We are the ones who tend to complicate. We do so, so much that it sometimes paralyzes us to inaction. “I can never be enough for God so why try?” All the while He is waiting for us to Just come. Come with what little we have to that secret place with Him. Open our hearts to Him so that we find there the intimacy He literally died to give us.

No need to complicate things. No need to present an image to Him. He already knows. “Just come”.