When the skies speak

The heavens proclaim the glory of God

The skies display his craftsmanship.

Day after day they continue to speak;

night after night they make him known.

They speak without a sound or word;

their voice is never heard.

Yet their message has gone throughout the earth,

and their words to all the world.

(Psalm 19:1-4, New Living Translation)

When you’re down on yourself

When we were children, if Dad caught one of us doing something we shouldn’t have been doing, he would often frown and say “grrrrowwwllll.” He spoke gently, never raising his voice, but we knew that we had better stop what we were doing.

Now sometimes I hear the Life-giving Lion gently growl at me through the pages of Scripture. His growl is a warning, but not a fearful one. It is a warning that moves me in the direction of Life, breathing love and peace and joy over me even as he growls. Today I hear the healing growl in Romans 8:33-34.

“Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus who died - more than that, who was raised to life - is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.”

These verses picture God as the Judge and Jesus as the defense attorney. I am the defendant.

But far too often, I find myself stepping into the seat of the prosecutor. “That was so stupid. I can’t believe you did that!” “You’re so selfish. Lazy too. Maybe if you’d just try harder. . .” “Will you ever learn from your mistakes?” “Just look at yourself. How can God ever use someone like you?”

Not content to be the prosecutor, I even try to take the position of judge, declaring myself guilty and handing down a sentence.

Into this unruly crowd of one, the True Judge speaks, reminding me that there are enough prosecutors without taking that position myself. And there is only One qualified to judge.

The Lion’s gentle growl reminds me that the verses from Romans 8 speak not merely of the inability of others to charge or condemn me. They speak also to my tendency to step into the seat of prosecutor and judge. “Who do you think you are, to condemn yourself, when I have declared you righteous?” God alone has the right to make the final call. And, incredibly, it is God who justifies.

I could not have a better defense attorney. Since the time when he stepped down to serve the death sentence himself, he does not leave his place, a continual presence reminding the Judge, the prosecutors, and the defendant (should I care to hear), that the maximum sentence has already been served and the defendant can no longer be held liable.

“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1)

May you, too, know the freedom of being merely the defendant, and the joy of hearing the Defense Attorney and the Judge declare you no longer guilty.

How Grace speaks into places of woundedness

This week I am grieving the loss of colleagues. Some have been wounded before. This time they paid the ultimate price as they shared in Christ’s sufferings.

Many of my friends have suffered. One lives with constant noise from eardrums damaged in a blast. Another has worked through extreme emotional trauma. Still another finds the mind struggling to meet weekly expectations as it labors and slows under the too long, too heavy years. Even Spirit-filled people have bodies of dust. Minds, too, can only labor so long under extreme burdens without being affected.

I think of each of these colleagues. And I wonder how many bear not only the physical wounds but the heavier weight of shame and frustration.

I have felt it. The shame of weakness and inability to help with daily tasks. The frustration of needing to schedule daily naps and exercise rather than being able to spontaneously respond to the needs of others. Self-accusations of wimpiness, selfishness, laziness. “Maybe if I just tried harder. . .”

Into these places of shame Grace speaks. His wounds touch ours, connecting our pain, our weakness, the rejection and hurt and dis-ease that we have experienced with his. His hands honor us, lifting us up, reminding us that it is His marks that we bear in our bodies.

Today He reminds me through Paul. This man who was beaten and imprisoned, rejected and starved of food and sleep was not ashamed of his wounds. He wore his scars boldly as honorable battle wounds.

“Finally, let no one cause me trouble, for I bear on my body the marks of Jesus.” (Galatians 6:17)

And so a word to my hurting colleagues: The weakness that haunts you, the wounds you continue to bear as a result of your service are not signs of failure. They are not shameful. They are honorable wounds, marks of courage and endurance and union with Christ in His death. By His grace, you have willingly followed Him to places where you have been injured.

Today may Grace speak freshly into the places of pain, enabling you to wear your scars confidently as marks of a fight well fought, a cross carried, a privileged participation in Christ’s sufferings for the sake of his body.

How to live freely

I feel their fingers again, fingers of resentment and tight-fistedness squeezing the life out of joy and generosity. Why do I feel I have to carefully guard every moment, every penny, every ounce of energy, when You, Abba, are such an Extravagant Giver? Do I fear that you will decide to stop being generous? All that I give  is such a small portion of what you have lavished on me. Do I think I have to hoard what You have given in case You don’t give again? But You are not fickle like my heart. It is Your very nature to give lavishly. Can I not trust You in this?

“He who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all, will He not also along with Him graciously give us all things?”

I think of the story a friend recently told me from Sleeping with Bread by Dennis Linn. People working with orphans in post World War II Germany found that even once these starved orphans were given new homes with plenty of food, they were unable to sleep, fearful that there would not be food for the following day. They could not sleep until they were given a piece of bread to hold onto while they slept. Then, reassured that there would be food for tomorrow, they slept soundly.

I am learning that giving thanks for the extravagant gifts helps me to rest in God’s character and know that He who is my Provider will not stop providing. He will not stop loving. I can rest, confident that the One who has provided so lavishly for today will provide for tomorrow as well.


A few of the many blessings:

long Sunday afternoon naps

the smell of frying onions

mushroom sandwiches

a bright red tank top in my size on the clearance rack

Taize songs

Regent bookstore sales

flute and violin duets

a multiethnic group of small children delightedly chasing pidgeons

a leisurely walk along the sea wall

being followed by a Canada goose

sunsets reflected in the water