Stumbling in the Darkness

As I was growing up, there were predictabilities that gave me comfort. One of them was my Dad’s nightly ritual. He was usually the last one to bed, and many times I could hear him as he finished his nightly duties. He would turn off the TV, climb the stairs to the kitchen and usually place a dish or glass in the sink. Then he would check to be sure the doors were locked and turn on the night light in the kitchen before going to his bedroom. There he would usually find my mother sound asleep, holding a book upright on her lap. We still tease her about doing that. He would gently pull the book from her hands and turn off her lamp before slipping into bed. Knowing he did those things every night gave me a great sense of security and peace.

Recently I was amused to find the same ritual has developed in our house. That night, I checked the doors, turned on the night light and opened the bedroom door to find my wife asleep holding a book. I couldn’t help but chuckle and even tear up a bit. “It’s my turn now,” I thought. Sometimes, Jina stays up longer than I do. About half of those times, I wake in the middle of the night to find her side of the bed empty. I’ll find her asleep in the recliner and then help her to bed.

I have pretty good night vision and a really good map of the house in my head. So, I usually walk around in the dark without any trouble. The other night, the ritual took an unusual turn. I had been repairing a chair and for some reason had left it lying on its side near the front door. As I went to lock up, I walked full stride into the chair. Instantly, pain screamed at me… a toe… a knee… the shin on the other leg…the same shin I had badly bruised several weeks before… they all cried out.

I don’t typically curse, even when something bad happens. Occasionally, if it’s bad enough, I’ll cartoon curse: “Snaggafragga…” If I’m with people, I’ll sometimes King James curse: “Verily, verily, behold that hurteth.” When it’s really bad, I might Christian curse: “Son of a Baptist.” But usually I just writhe around and moan. I don’t remember saying anything that night, perhaps because I didn’t want to wake Jina, but it was a moment worthy of a curse. It really hurt.

The next day was Sunday, and I had forgotten the chair incident. But as I led worship that day, I was awestruck by God once again. We opened with the song, “God of Wonders”, and as we sang the words, “When I stumble in the darkness, I will call your name by night…” I was reminded of the chair. My spiritual eyes went wide, and even as we continued to sing, the meaning began to sink in. “How can that be?” I wondered. “Is it possible for my first thought in that situation to be of my Lord?”

It’s so easy for my reaction to be anger or frustration and to curse the chair or even my own stupidity. But those lyrics are suggesting that my first thought can be to call out to my Lord. Wouldn’t that be something. What a great place to be. I want to be in that place where I am so close to my Savior that I see Him standing next to me all the time. There to catch me and comfort me. To cheer me up and cheer me on. Whatever comes my way, I want my heart to fly to my Him.

Psalm 34:17-18
"The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears, and delivers them from all their troubles. The LORD is near the brokenhearted; He saves those crushed in spirit."

Isaiah 40:28-31
"Do you not know? Have you not heard? Yahweh is the everlasting God, the Creator of the whole earth. He never grows faint or weary; there is no limit to His understanding. He gives strength to the weary and strengthens the powerless. Youths may faint and grow weary, and young men stumble and fall, but those who trust in the LORD will renew their strength; they will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not faint."

The Wait Called Beautiful...

We were standing in a subway train on our way to church when a man in a motorized wheelchair entered our car. It wasn’t crowded but all the seats were full. He made his way down the car randomly placing a laminated card and a wrapped toothbrush on people’s laps. After one circuit he went through again collecting the items. Jina said, “He’s asking for money. It happens a lot.” While most people ignored him, one lady kept the toothbrush and gave him some money.

I’ve seen preachers and salesmen on the subway, but this was my first beggar. I thought with pity about his life, entering car after car doing the same thing all day long. It reminded me of the cripple at the Temple Gate. Day after day, year after year, he took his place asking for contributions, until Peter and John came along. Peter said to him, “I have neither silver nor gold, but what I have, I give to you: In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene, get up and walk!” Instantly, the man’s life changed. His dream was realized and he was a new man.

Then the Spirit reminded me that the man was there a long time. He was there when Jesus passed by… Think of it. The Power of God had already been available to this man, but he didn’t experience it. Why didn’t Jesus heal him? Some would say that the man didn’t have faith at that time. Perhaps. It’s true that all who come to Christ do so at different times and from different places, sometimes after many opportunities have passed by. But Jesus probably healed others who didn’t become His disciples. Why not this man? Wasn’t it cruel to leave him in this suffering state?

Jesus loved this man, but He restrained Himself, submitting to His Father’s will and time. He allowed the cripple to remain in his suffering for a future, greater purpose. I understand that wait. I’ve experienced what seemed like unending suffering. Heart-broken and agonizing, I prayed for healing that didn’t come. Instead, the Father said, “Wait.” He held my broken heart and loved me through the time. Then when the time was right, He healed me and said, “Now, look over there at what I’ve been working on.”

I shared all this with Jina and we both marveled at God’s plan.

Epilogue: At church, the time came for scripture reading. As instructed, we all turned to Acts 3, and Jina and I went wide-eyed as we read, “Now Peter and John were going up together to the temple complex at the hour of prayer at three in the afternoon. And a man who was lame from his mother's womb was carried there and placed every day at the temple gate called Beautiful….”

Got the Girl...

I went to a movie tonight. It was an action thriller, filled with the usual stuff that makes for a great break from the cares of the week...car chases, intrigue, a hero and his love interest. I've seen a bunch of these over the years, and I always walk out with just a little more attention to the shadows, alert for any sudden movement, my peripheral vision keenly aware of the people around me.

The hero is "everyman". He would prefer to be left alone... in peace, but he'll do what he has to in order to stop the bad guys. And the love interest... she is usually someone who gets swept up in the unexpected action. Together they dig deep within themselves for what's necessary to get the job done... walking off arm in arm as the credits roll. Silly, I know, but I've always loved it...except for the ending. Watching the hero get the girl has always left me a little empty. That's where the fantasy fails. No matter what sort of feelings the movie produces, walking out means you're returning to the real world.

It happened again tonight. My heart beat faster as the hero took care of business, and then it melted as he looked into the eyes of the girl. The credits began as always, but this time something was different. As I walked out glancing at the darkened corners, I felt something new... a hand curled around my arm and a cheek on my shoulder. I looked down to see beautiful smiling eyes, and that's when I knew... the real world is better than anything they can put on the screen.

No bad guys, no car chases, no intrigue... but I don't care... I got the girl...

Hands...

I have a job I really like. My job is to warm Jina's hands. We've done a lot of walking since I've been here. It has been cold, and as we've walked, I've noticed her hands are cold. They're tiny hands. Mine are big, and they make good warmers. From time to time, I'll change sides so the warming is even. The other day, she asked, "Why are your hands so warm?" I told her it's because of my warm heart. I know, I know. But it works with her... Actually, I get warm pretty easily and don't need as much outside warmth as other people. So, I like the feel of her cool hands. As I hold them, my extra warmth transfers to her, benefiting both of us.

As I live close to Jesus Christ and allow God to fill me with His Holy Spirit, my heart overflows with His love. He fills my cup to the brim and overflowing. As I touch the lives of others, the warmth of God's love is transferred to them. They may not realize the source, but it is God's "...streams of living water flow[ing] from deep within..." (John 7:38). My hope is that I will always be a willing channel for God's love in other people's lives.

Tonight as we sat in church I took off my jacket, and Jina took it and put it on her lap for the extra warmth. I asked, "Do you want my gloves?" Smiling, she squeezed my hand and said, "I have gloves."

Does God Know Everything?

Yesterday I saw the last few minutes of “The Greatest Story Ever Told.” Jesus was before Pilate and Herod. Then He was scourged and crucified. While on the cross He uttered words that have always held a bit of mystery for me. He cried out, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” As a young Christian, I wondered, “Did Jesus not understand why He was there?” Even though God the Son humbled and limited Himself, I thought surely He fully understood His mission and the events that would occur.

As I have grown in my faith, God has revealed answers to many such mysteries. Here, Jesus is not confused about His purpose. He knew well beforehand the gravity of the suffering He would endure. In fact, He was so aware of what would happen that He prayed for His Father to do something else “if it is possible.” With full knowledge of the task at hand, He expressed His genuine fear and dread.

Since before Creation…before time in fact, God the Son has known intimacy with God the Father. We, however, have rare moments of real intimacy with God and are overwhelmed by the experience. Jesus lived there…24/7. What we have difficulty imagining, Jesus counted as normal. When He hung there on the cross, He took on the guilt and responsibility of the sin of the whole world. And God the Father turned away.

Some translations use the word “abandoned.” God the Father turned His back on sin, and in doing so He abandoned His Son. For the first time ever, God the Son felt the utter despair of full and complete separation from God the Father. Like we are overwhelmed by intimacy with God, Jesus was overcome by separation. It was worse actually. When Jesus cried out, “My God, my God…” He was not confused about the work. He was expressing His shock and confusion, His despair, His aloneness. He was crying out, “Where are You?”

Does God know everything? Yes, He does. He knows my sin. He knows the penalty. He knows the shame, the despair, the separation. He knows these things and more…so that I don’t have to.

What Is Prayer?

Most people pray…to something or someone. We who have met the risen Christ have learned that only through Him do our prayers have meaning or achieve any result. Proverbs 15:29 tells us “…He hears the prayer of the righteous.” James 5:16 says, “The intense prayer of the righteous is very powerful.” The righteous have placed their complete faith in Jesus Christ… for forgiveness… for peace… for fulfillment… for everything.

We are inhabited by the very Spirit of God who “…intercedes for us…” (Romans 8:26). Even when we don’t know what or how to pray, the Holy Spirit speaks for us as we cry out, “Abba! Father!” Prayer can be spoken or silent, private or public, kneeling, prostrate, standing or arms outstretched. Righteous prayer is sincere, honest and open. Prayer is based on trust and a relationship that develops over time.

Recently I gained a new perspective on prayer. I was directing our Christmas Musical and we arrived at a particularly difficult section. When using recorded accompaniment, it is difficult during softer sections to keep the choir in pace with the music. With my ear turned toward the monitor, I concentrated as we began. It was a stressful moment, and I instinctively called out to God for help, but with all that I was doing, no words would come to my mind. Instead I simply looked up in my spirit at my Father.

It was a defining moment. Right then, I realized that prayer is more than just words. Prayer is a five year old glancing up at his father for reassurance. A wordless expression of trust in the only source of strength he knows. Prayer is communication based on a deep, proven relationship. I looked up to Him for reassurance. He smiled at me, filling me with peace and encouragement.

1 Thessalonians 5:17 says, “Pray without ceasing.” The Holman translations says, “Pray constantly.” Prayer is more than words. It is constant awareness of your Father’s presence. Look up to Him. See His smile. Feel His peace. Hold His hand.

Challenger the Eagle...

I took Jay and Megan to the University of Tennessee football game the other day. It was their first such experience in America and my first time in several years, and we all enjoyed it. I compared the stadium with all the orange clad people to Jeju Island in Korea. Jeju is where they have the Mandarin orange groves. We watched the marching band, and I explained the game as it was played.Before the game, we stood for the singing of the National Anthem, and witnessed the flight of Challenger the American Bald Eagle. Challenger is an eagle that was found when he was very young and raised by humans. He has remained with them and now does these flight demonstrations at events all over the country.

We saw the handler with Challenger in the upper deck near us, while the other handler stood down on the opposite end of the field. When he was released, Challenger soared and swooped up over the stadium. The crowd roared with excitement as Challenger circled the field. He glided half a dozen loops, seemingly teasing the crowd and the handlers. Several times, he swooped down as if to land, only to climb again at the last second. Having never seen it in person, I wondered if he was going to fly away. But just when the thought entered my mind, the majestic bird flew down and down and landed on the gloved hand of the handler. As I looked at the huge screen, I saw the closeup of Challenger as he received a treat from his friend.Days later, I was still thinking about Challenger. I was deeply impressed and awed by what I saw. And my thoughts included a question... Why did he land? As he flew against the dark night sky, I realized something. He was free. He had no tether... no chain... nothing to hold him down... yet his first instinct was to search for his friends. He found them, and after performing his task, he went straight to them. Was it for the treat? Perhaps that was partly the reason, but I tend to think he knows there are plenty of treats out there.

As I pondered this, God gave me the answer. It is not a reward that makes him land. It is not obedience or even training. It is a relationship. Challenger knows these people better than he knows anything else in the world...even other eagles. They saved him and raised him. They provide for him. They love him. And he loves them. He is free to leave whenever he wants, but the love they share compels him to stay. That is why he landed.

That's what God wants for us. He has given us our freedom. We can choose to fly away and never give Him a second glance. Many do just that. However, some have found what He wants for all of us...a relationship. Those of us who follow God, do so not for the reward. It is not even obedience or training. We follow God because of the the relationship we have with Him through Jesus Christ. He loved us enough to save us from our lost condition...to raise us from the pit of sin...to provide for and love us like no other ever could.

Why would I ever want to fly away from Him?

The Trees of the Field...

I told Todd the other day that I was going to help my Dad cut a hickory tree. He responded, "I'm surprised your Dad has any trees left!" I guess I often talk about the manly art of cutting trees. There's nothing better than a day with a clear blue sky, comfortable temperature, family all around and the sweet sound of a chainsaw. Get's my eyes misty just thinking about it. As I thought of writing about it, I knew I had to find an appropriate scripture. These immediately came to mind.

Exodus 20:12 Honor your father and your mother so that you may have a long life in the land that the LORD your God is giving you.

Genesis 1:28 ... fill the earth, and subdue it.

Here we are: