CHEATING DEATH

A while ago I received a note in the mail.

It was not signed.  

Had no return address.

I ran across it yesterday looking through some old files.

Here are a few lines from the letter:

"I began going to church for the first time in my life just a few months ago.  I wasn't raised to believe in any higher power. (She then explained that to support her husband, she began to attend) 

So, I gave in and finally went to church.  It wasn't at all what I expected...To my surprise, I'm learning a lot about me. I wanted to tell you that last Sunday's sermon really meant a lot.  Even though I couldn't (wouldn't) come forward to the altar, to ask for prayer and to give myself to God, I do believe it will happen someday, I'm just not sure how to do that.  It's very hard to let go of control of one's life, but I'm sure I will be able to soon." 

A couple Sundays later, during the service, I read a couple lines from the note aloud, still not knowing who wrote it.

I shared that Jesus was aware of all the challenges that the writer was sorting through,

and that he was available to move forward whenever she was.

When the service was over, there were several who wished to talk, which is kind of typical.

But I can still remember a couple standing about fifteen feet away; she was wiping her eyes 

with some Kleenex, her husband standing attentively nearby, and something inside me let me know that a divine moment was coming my way.

After finishing my conversation with the others she walked over, and very sheepishly

said, "I wrote that letter you read."

I said to her that somehow I knew it was her a few moments earlier, while they were standing a few feet away.

Her and her husband shared their story with me.  

It was only a bit after that she opened her heart for the Christ...to be her Christ.

AND it was only a little while later, she was diagnosed with a cancer.  

It was aggressive.  

And she left this place quickly....but without fear...and very little regret...because she had been made new in heart and in her mind there was great peace.

Coming back to her note for a moment.

There were two lines that were my favorites. First, was in reference to church:

"It wasn't at all what I expected."  

Oh, how I want that for those who come to our places of worship, or simply meet us as his ambassador that we would surprise them.

Surprise them with joy.

Surprise them with grace.

Surprise them with hope.

Surprise them with belonging...into our hearts, into our homes...into our family.

The second was:

"It's very hard to let go of control of one's life."

Wow. 

That's a mouthful.  At so many levels this is a

the big truth.

Thinking back, I can verify that it became her truth.

In those remaining months, 

she had left here, 

she wrestled through it and found life in it, 

                                                      in the letting go.

We miss you, our sister.

But in your letter and in your life, you remain a reminder to just how real

this faith can be.

A Gathering of Stones

We lived in a place where people stacked stones.

One upon another.

So they would not forget.

Because of the visual.  

A weight.

Burden.

Stones that speak.

Shout.

Or weep.

Or scream at...

           all of the days... or years gone by...As though they were still caught in the rear-view mirror.

To remember her, or him or these fleeting moments.

When friends, relatives or family experienced great sadness, 

or great joy.

And to live, also, even in the knowledge that whatever happened...

                                                                              there was still,  God.

My wife and I went quietly past some of these silent monuments one day.

We paused and read names.

Some were etched 

and some were scrawled in burnt ash.

I wondered of the hands that placed the stones.

Did they tremor in the process?

Did the person who bent their knee and placed them here

experience grace enough to lift their chin

and stand again?  

To go forward from that day.

Broken stones, 

to remember broken bones,

                           broken hearts.

                                Broken spirits.

But maybe also to remember hope.

                                        Resurrection.

New days after long nights.

                       Because...even after the night...there is still God.

And I believe that because, there is...still God,

                       today, there are also living stones of remembrance who walk among us.

Escape

Not long ago,

I was driving along the edge of a small town, 

              that's being stretched into something bigger.

Passing a series of strip malls and fast food chain restaurants.

It felt like I was looking at an adolescent; not sure what's supposed to come next.

Needing direction and understanding.

A diverse population growing along its borders.

With rough edges, moving into a whirlpool of

                                      abandoned houses, bikini coffee shops. 

                                                                     And people.

I know a young man who grew up 

                                     and into all of this.

He came to church...sporadically.

He was kind and thoughtful.

I loved him, wished to see him more.

We talked about that often.

It was mostly easy conversation.

Comfortable.

Hopeful.

He just seemed distracted, but not distanced.

One day, he found someone 

                         that he was talking about spending his life with.

They came and stood in front of me, his arm around her waist.

Beautiful smiles.

Looking at each other and then back to me.

His eyes, shining with a crystalline blue.

A joy in the both of their hearts that spilled all over their faces.

We talked about a time; maybe a couple weeks down the road,

When we would get together and 

              discuss what might be next for the two of them.

The date came and went.

My texts went unanswered.

Months later, they walked up to greet me after service.

Remarking how the message had spoken to them.

Same beautiful smiles.

We hugged.

Talked about getting together again.

But we never did.

And now he's gone.

In a tragic story; which doesn't feel like the main point of this.

I believe Jesus' arms were strong enough 

                                        to catch him, and keep him.

What I hate is the "in-between" of it all.

The struggle I know he felt.

He had to make choices.

Those choices bore consequence.

I know it.

The church doors were always open.

Many people had offered him sanctuary there,

                                      And even in their own hearts.

But today, I'm thinking about what shapes our choices. 

This young man felt he had to leave home at 15 years old.

He tried to navigate life, mostly on his own from that day forward.

The day to day of his experience, so young, had so many more obstacles than mine.

And....I wonder...

Just how hard it must be to escape the whirlpool of 

                               abandoned houses and bikini coffee shops.

A Home Coming

It will be 

like a coming home

All things will be coming home 

Everyone we've had to let go

To a place unknown

When we're fully grown

To a place we've never been

Still, it will feel like we're coming home

As the giant arm 

of an old ferris wheel 

slowly turning a full circle

'Til we step off this ride 

And find its all been made new again

As it was in the beginning

So it will be in the end

Our long walk, back to the garden

Eastern Gate swings wide

We'll be ushered inside

Our hurts fade to wholeness

Grief healed by joy

Tears are captured; gently, laid aside

While light floats softly

Into our darkened corners

Riding on a weightless wonder

The voice our heart knows

Though its never been heard

Speaks our name out loud

Amid the growing crowd

And faces aglow 

Because now we know

What once was veiled

Has become our home

We found our way home

And can it be?

WE FOUND OUR WAY HOME!

A Terrible Underestimation

I don't know that I completely understand how it all works.

Sometimes it feels like it doesn't.

I have to confess that at times I forget the power 

and also, the peace that is available.

And then someone reminds me.

Sometimes 

it is His Spirit,

A voice

who calls

but only softly.

Sometimes its another voice.

Who has faith more than I.

Standing on the place

Where flame and smoke took away.

But the promise still stands.

And he's sure in his sight

What had been

will be again.

Speak the words...he said

Standing there in the place where the fire began.

They will be heard

They will commence

Because there is power, I know it!...he said

And so I did.

We faced each other

Hand to hand,

Face to face

I lifted.

I called.

I pled.

And a month or so later I asked,

Has it made any difference?

He smiled and said, 

YES!

Of course! 

He has blessed!

And I thank you for coming

And for your words of request.

I knew it was needed

               
I knew He would listen...to you.

And I thought...It was only prayer.

                         What a terrible underestimation.

THE SIGHTLINE BETWEEN US

We were in a crowded food court a few months ago, 

and I was looking for our daughter because we were supposed meet her and our son-in-law there.  

As we located a table that the four of us could sit down to, and I was pulling out a chair, I saw our daughter walk into the area.  She was about 100 feet away from us on the other side of the room.

A smile swept over my face and I waived enthusiastically towards her.  

She acknowledged my waive.  

However, at that precise moment a man who I didn't know at all, walked into the sightline between us.  He smiled warmly and waived enthusiastically back to me.  

Then he realized he didn't know me. 

He looked quickly behind him to our daughter, and saw that it was her that I was trying to connect with and not him.   So he ducked his head a bit ashamedly, and moved away from my gaze as fast as he could.  

I felt bad for him, 

because I've experienced the same sensation.  

It feels like you forced yourself into a conversation, 

and want to apologize for your interruption.  

You feel a bit foolish and weirdly, your self-worth can even take a hit.  

It washes over you in seconds and is usually forgotten quite soon,

but in that moment, 

at the very least, 

it feels very awkward.  

Mostly, this is a rare occurrence and is not representative of how we feel about who we are, but I think that for some, it can be a microcosm of how all of life is experienced.  I have felt seasons in my life were marked by this kind of feeling.  Moving from one school to another as a kid and having to figure out who might be part of a new friend circle was hard. Encountering moments where someone you thought would be a fit, but turns out to be un-trustworthy is painful.

Growing up, we do more to brace ourselves for this uncertainty and don't offer ourselves to others before we do some kind of unofficial "background check."  This can stretch into our college years and afterwards into the workplaces of our lives.  We learn to shield our hearts from overextending and keep our distance; sometimes a lot of distance.  Sometimes we stop risking relationships altogether.

As I write those words, I'm feeling saddened by them, and yet, I know them to be true.  I've talked with many adults who have told me that this is how they feel.  They have gone through divorce, lost their job, have had a family blow-up or just feel isolated for a variety of reasons.  

They feel like they could not be the object of anyone else's attention.  

God the Father is not like this. 

His son is not like this.  

His Spirit is not like this.

If we sense that He has locked eyes on us, it's because He has done just that.  

HE WASN'T LOOKING FOR SOMEONE ELSE...HE WAS LOOKING FOR US!  :)

AND if we initiated the connection, he's ready to meet us.  He said things like:

"Come to me, all who are weary..."

"I stand at the door and knock..."

"I will never leave you..."

All of this helps me understand that there is a love for me that's never fickle.  

It is consistently directed towards me. 

It doesn't flinch. 

 

There is a song that we sing today in church, and if you catch me when I'm singing it, and it looks like I'm pretty intense about it, its because  the lyrics resonate deeply in me and with the thoughts connected to those written here.  They say: 

"I sought the Lord, and he heard, and he answered...I sought the Lord! and he heard! and he answered!

That's why I trust him...THAT'S WHY I TRUST IN GOD MY SAVIOUR, THE ONE WHO WILL NEVER FAIL!"

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJE4yahElBQ&list=RDiJE4yahElBQ&start_radio=1)

The Iniquity Crush

Can't put it down

Won't let me go

Into a sleep

Or even rest

So, I roll over

One side, to the other

Then back again

And I wonder...

How would it feel 

to know each and every... 

To carry it all 

Upon your shoulders

Upon your heart

All the way 

Up the hill

To that freedom tree

The iniquity crush

Of mind, body and spirit

That was not on me

Because you went

Where I could never walk

You bore us all

For there were none

No, not one...

Without stain

Without pain

We've all fallen

And cannot rise

Apart from You

Alive in us

As you breathe life

Back into dust

Once more, "How?"

And not only for those

That steal my sleep

But for me

And once more, "Why?"

Is your heart so given

Is your promise so certain

For whosoever will

Perhaps, I will always wrestle in this peace you have bought... for even me.