A High Tower

I'm not sure how to put this thought to words, but I'm gonna try.  :)

It's an idea that came to mind without invitation.

It caught me and held me.  

It continues to do that when I allow for myself to be held.

There is an often quoted collection of words that read this way,

"For I know the plans I have for you...plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Most of the time when I have read those words or heard them quoted the emphasis is on the 

second half.

The words "prosper", "hope" and "future" are elevated in significance.

And though there was a specific group of people who they were directed towards, during a specific time, they have found their way onto greeting cards, t-shirts, blogs and all sorts of other spaces as words 

of commitment from the one who spoke them.

I don't think this is a bad thing.

Because, in general, I believe this is his heart towards us.

Not as though it is a contractual obligation, but that...He really does love us and wills his relationship with us to have those ideas mentioned as by-products of that relationship.

However...

What I've wondered about myself, and really all of us as followers; as his children, is this:

Are we secure enough in our faith ...

do we trust Him enough...

that if all we got was the first half of the verse, we would continue to follow anyhow?

              For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord...

   

In other words, which is the better promise?  

Is it that he will adorn our lives with a prosperous, hopeful future?  

                                                                       Or that He knows the plans he has for us?

Such a mountainous question isn't it...

How comfortable am I, living within..."He knows..." all by itself?

Don't get me wrong.  

I'm thankful for the second half of the verse, and as I said, I think it is the heart of God.

However, I know that the "prospering" part of life is open to interpretation.

He may see it differently than I, or those around me do.

There is no time-frame mentioned in that promise either.

In our particular situations, how far down the road is this "hope and future" he speaks about?

When will it arrive at my door?

Is he as efficient with delivery as Amazon?

What if when he said, "For I know the plans I have for you..."

I held up my hand and said, "That's all I needed to know."

And I rose with joy and went out into the day.

In The Midst Of

In the past few weeks three friends have passed from this world into the "what's next."
I have my own sense of what that looks like for them, and I think it's far, far better than here, but that's not the point of what I want to say.
Two other good friends have been diagnosed with cancer recently. 
Another family we are very close to is working through the loss of their child because of a miscarriage.
I do not have any answers as to the timing of any of these moments or much else associated with...."Why?"....and I don't expect that I ever will.  
Honestly, I don't think that's why we're here.  
I think that what we're supposed to do instead of offer answers, is to support each other, while we're on this side, together, 

and "in the midst of"...well... EVERYTHING.

And in this way we hold onto God with one hand and hold onto those we love

with our other hand AND become a bridge of peace for them.

We ask for needs to be met.

We ask for healing, not only in the physical, but in depths of their hearts, and 

in their spirit.

And in this space of surrender we are linked into greater answers than we could ever offer.

And into plans that work together for the good of all.

In big things and little.

So that as Skye Jethani said,

"We are not merely passive set pieces in a prearranged cosmic drama, but we are active participants with God in the writing, directing, design, and action that unfolds on the stage of history." 

I have thought about my prayers.  

And about our prayers as a church so often. 

And what they accomplish.

Attached is an image.

There is one in the center, surrounded by several from different races and generations, but through grace, 

ALL ONE FAMILY.

The one in the middle was broken before us,

and we were gathered around him, without knowing the answer to "Why?"...and we prayed.
How does that help?  I don't fully know how to answer to that, but I think it's one of the best

things that the church does...or can do.

I discovered recently that the definition of the word, "prayer" in the original Greek can mean,
"An exchange of wishes."
It pre-supposes our will is a part of the process
It pre-supposes we are listening to Him.

It pre-supposes He is listening to us.
It pre-supposes we actually share what's in us
It pre-supposes we are seeing what's truly happening around us
It pre-supposes we are bendable
It pre-supposes we have a relationship to God and each other
It pre-supposes we care about what's in the heart of God
It pre-supposes He cares about what's in our heart

The more I think about it, the bigger the idea of prayer becomes.

Paul wrote this to the church in Corinth a long, long time ago,

but I think it's still helpful thinking,

"We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us! But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love."

There it is.

We're not the answer-givers.

...we're the bridge to the one who is.  

Until the day when we too see him face to face, eye to eye, AND

There's no more sorrow, no more tears, no more pain.

In Between "Who Am I....and Here am I"

Part 1...

There were only two people who actually said it.

Perhaps, many more felt it in their hearts, 

discussed it within themselves,

almost muttered it out loud, 

but the words never tumbled across their lips.

It was only Moses and David.

     At a point of self-assessment, 

compared to the task at hand...

they considered their frailties, 

their shortcomings, 

their regrets,

their anxieties,

         and asked, 

                        "Who am I, Lord?"

Consider those names...

MOSES

KING DAVID

Two of the most dynamic leaders in all of world history.

Yet they clearly understood their absolute need for divine 

strength and understanding.  

It wasn't just that the job description seemed mountainous.

A great work needed to be done.

And it needed to be done in a way that 

                              reflected the character of their God.  

That's a lot.

Getting something done is one thing.  

Doing it in a way that consistently brings honor and glory to our maker...

                        "Who am I, Lord?"

There's a necessary humility in that question.

A necessary dependency that's elusive to a lot of us today.

Elusive because, first off, we don't like dependency.  

Counting on someone else to come through...

And honestly, we tend to want to be known for our achievements.  

We'll often deflect some of the accolades to God, but we like wearing the bulk of it.

However...I think... I'm getting to a place where I would rather be hidden in the cleft of the rock.

I truly wish to see his glory, while remaining protected by his hand.

Unseen by anyone else...I think.

Part 2...

Enter the prophet Isaiah.

He doesn't ask the same question as Moses and David.

He registers his humility with a declaration.

Having just seen the majesty of his creator, he says, 

         “Woe to me!  I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among 

            a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.”

There's the necessary humility again.

But he doesn't stop there.

After a forgiveness and atonement has been applied, he hears the voice of his King 

searching for someone who will step up and follow in the effort to bring healing 

to a nation.

A seemingly overwhelming invitation.

Yet, instead of shrinking back.

It's at this point that Isaiah steps up.

I don't know if his words were a shout or a quiet, but determined acknowledgement.

Regardless, Isaiah's response was, 

                           "Here am I.  Send me!"

Part 3...

This is the "in between" where Moses, David and Isaiah lived.

This is the "in between" where I think we must live.

In between the "Who am I?"...and the... "Here am I."

Knowing our weakness.

But trusting in his strength enough to raise our hand 

and volunteer to be sent.

In grace-sufficiency.

It will feel a precarious stance at times.

It will feel vulnerable.

It will feel too bold and sometimes not bold enough.

It will be awkward because we won't always know what comes next

Because it's not our agenda.

It honors The One who is over all,

                                in all 

                                          and through all.

                                                     It's where we become followers.

                                   

(Thanks to art by Richard McBee)

I'm Still Here

A few weeks ago I heard a young woman share her story.

Her name is Gabby Lyons...look it up.

I love stories.

Especially I love true stories about people finding their way.  

Finding their way through

hardship, abuse, injustice, physical difficulty, financial difficulty, 

Or just working through the pain of being ignored; feeling invisible.

Gabby's story is one of saying, "I'm still here!...in spite of..."

(In her case it has been a litany of physical suffering)

It's not a success story in the sense of something amazing coming at the end of it.

She didn't become the head of a Fortune 500 company.

She didn't win any election.

She's not on the cover of a magazine.

Her autobiography is not a best-seller.

Again...she just said, "I'm still here!"

Feet, firmly planted in her faith.

In her trust.

With Jesus.

She hasn't been healed...yet.

And she's okay with that.

She's not going anywhere without him.  No matter what.

The phrase she used to identify her commitment was this: "Ten toes down!"

Oh how that made me smile.

And nod my head.  

She's digging in.

"As for me and my house..."

Not five toes down, with one foot ready to pivot and walk away.

Not looking over her shoulder for a better offer.

Ten toes down.  

Facing the challenge head on.

Quietly.  Determined. 

Drawing every bit of strength that she can from The Divine.

Leaning on support from all who may offer.

Thankful for what He's already done.

Returning her love for the love he extended to her first.

We need that example.

I need that example.

Let's choose this response today.

Let's choose it for ourselves and share it with others.

Not because it will get headlines or because it will pay off in something tangible.

Just because it will quietly ripple through us in a way 

                                                        that generates hope around us.

All of us.  Standing for each other.  

If you need me, I'll be here....

                                  TEN TOES DOWN.

(Gabby's testimony) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wz4GDqLXBcs 

Get the questions right

It sounds nearly uninspiring to say it, and I don't want to shout the words but rather whisper them.

But...I want to be a better follower, more than I want to be better a leader.

I want all of the "Be still and know" moments that may be available to me.

Just breathe.

Take in His Spirit.

(Then follow the advice of the "Fun With Dick and Jane" books.)

Look.

Listen.

See.

Through the eyes of a follower.  

(These were the thoughts behind what's written below)

In the quiet; not yet consumed 

By the day that's to come

There's a voice, that calls forward

In a song, still to be sung

The words are a mystery

The tune, all we hear

O' that we learn to listen

Closed mouths; open ears

Falling on my face

Stumbling in my pride

Comes something of a light

With mourning hope inside

I don't know the answers...but I'm starting to get the questions right.

I don't know how

I don't know when

I don't know why

Or where to begin

I don't know the answers...But I'm starting to get the questions right.

You will catch us there

Together; cradled in your grace

Nothing we can say or do

Nothing left to chase

None will be more
worthy

None will be the least

But all will be invited

'Round the table of a feast

I don't know the answers...But I'm starting to get the questions right.

It Takes A Lifetime

As I grow older, I find that I am more and more interested in vulnerable and even sometimes difficult conversations. I have to catch my breath in between them, and it's good to talk about baseball, or music, or what you had to eat yesterday as a break here and there, but hearing the truth of someone's life has become a gift to me.

Let's cut to it and deal with our joy, grief or broken-ness. Then find a way to support one-another; invite help from beyond our human weaknesses into the process.

I have said a few times on Sunday mornings, "A 'little bit raw' can stand awfully close to repentance."  

I know that has been true for myself.

So, in that spirit I began writing something that spoke to the cycle of insecurity and peace that I have felt my whole life.

From childhood, through adolescence. 

Through parenting and now into my senior years.

A good friend of my wife's who passed on just a short time ago, once said to Rhonda, 

"Oh honey, fear is what we feel, but brave is what we do."  I like that a lot.

The dark or unknown has always been there.  Jesus has not eliminated my sense of anxiety about those things which I have no control over, just equipped me to enter into those moments anyway...with trust.

Along these lines, I wrote this bit below.  It is attached to some specific thoughts related to my family and I, but there could be connection for others as well.

Just a child

Not ready to go

Saying goodbye is 

to swallow something

you don't even 

want to taste

Everything was new

Everyone was hard

New doesn't always

Make me feel like smiling

Still we say...

Be good

Be strong

Be well

Get along

Be courageous

Sing your song

Sometimes 

Finding your words

may take a lifetime

If my life's a story

I've been a hero

but I have also been a villain

looking away

when I should face it all

looking over my shoulder

at the giants; who stood so tall

Wanna walk, walk, walk

Walk into light

But still a bit 

afraid of the dark

Be good

Be strong

Be well

Get along

Be courageous

Sing your song

Sometimes 

Finding your words

will take a lifetime

Red dirt roads

We walked through

On my shoulders

Holding their shoes

Pig-tails; painted days

A sun that smiles

Kiss the frogs, "Morning Girl"

Across the miles

That day has gone away

Sometimes...I'm still a bit

Afraid of the dark

How well did we sing?

My love, my heart

How long is our hope?

They're grown, they're gone

Can they stand, be still?

Just stand and not run

My arms are open

My sight is clear

Your hand in mine

Yet, not too proud to admit...sometimes 

I'm still a bit ...afraid of the dark

Be good

Be strong

Be well

Get along

Be courageous

Sing your song

Sometimes 

Finding your words

                      takes  more than....a lifetime

Between Faith and Sight

My friend was in that space between here and there.

This world had become shadowy and thin, and the next life was taking on form and substance.

I've seen it many times.

His eyes flickered open and shut.  

His chin raised, and a smile swept his face to acknowledge my presence 

when I said, "Hello."

With a bit of a trembling heart, I asked him, "Has Jesus been near these days?"

He nodded.

"What has he been saying to you?"

"He said that I'm forgiven and that he loves me."  

He paused, gathered another breath and then, "...and that he'll meet me forever and ever."

These words came with
struggle but also with great certainty, gentleness and comfort 

held in them.

"Anything else?" I asked.

Again he nodded.

"He said...he's going to make me more like myself."

Then he closed his eyes, lowered his head and slept.

AND the next day, he went home.