the wake-up

Have you ever been awakened by a sliver of sunshine peeking through your curtains, hitting you directly on your closed eyelids? 

I thought about the Resurrection, today, and wondered what Jesus must have experienced when He was resurrected. The gospel of Matthew records an earthquake and an angel sitting on the stone that had been rolled away. Was it the earthquake that jarred Jesus into consciousness? Did Jesus wake up with a sunbeam shining directly in his eyes after the angel rolled away the stone? Did God whisper in His ear, "Time to wake up!"

As cute as it is to come up with fun ideas for that victorious morning, I don't think Jesus needed to be awakened. He IS the awakening. The light of eternal life probably just exploded out of Jesus' soul. Death could not maintain its hold on Jesus because He IS life. 

What a powerful and entirely amazing God we serve!  Worthy of all of our praise and devotion for eternity. 

details

A couple days ago my 8 year old plucked some tiny flowers from some weeds that were growing in our flower beds. "Mommy, look!" She exclaimed as she ran to me.  She carefully placed the flowers in my hands and smiled, "These are for you!"

I looked at the super tiny flowers and stood amazed at God's attention to detail. It's true that God created a lot of beauty in this world but these flowers are so tiny, that unless you took the time to get up close, you would never appreciate their splendor.  

I placed the flower on a dime, for size reference, and snapped a picture so you can see how itty-bitty they are! 

As I went about my day, I thought about all the details God included in His creation. He could have made things "good enough" but He went the extra mile every time! Everything He does is thoughtful, generous, over-the-top and lavish. What an extraordinary God we serve! 

Then I thought about the things I do and whether I reflect His character in the way I carry out my tasks. I guess I sometimes focus on details but that's usually because I'm particular about doing this a certain way. I'm not exactly detail-oriented out of love for God or for others. I'm just picky. 

Colossians 3:17 says, "And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him." 

What a neat thought. In an effort to be more like Jesus, I'm decided to shift my thinking and complete tasks in the name of Jesus. 

When I sat down to play a complicated piano piece, I decided I wouldn't gloss over the complicated section like I always did. I would take the time to study the music, carefully, to honor God, the original Creator of the beauty of music. I wondered if He'd notice and appreciate my attention to His gift of music. 

I struggled with a section of the music for a long time, while my noisy kids came in and out of the room. After a few more minutes of focused study, it suddenly felt like God was the only other person in the room with me and I experienced the music in a new way. I closed my eyes while I carefully executed two challenging measures. Suddenly, I was not only hearing the music but I felt like I could see it too! Notes that had previously rolled into one sound each had their own voice and their own color. It was incredible! I never would have thought that doing everyday tasks for His glory could be so rewarding! 

There is so much joy and satisfaction in this life for those who want to live for Him. How do I get others to understand this? 

were you there?

I love the Easter hymn, "Were You There?"  I love negro spirituals plus the images that come forward in the song are incredibly moving.  Although it's painfully sad, it ends with victory.

Whenever I listened to it, I thought I was the one singing the words, asking others if they were there, if they understood the significance, and wanting to see if they were moved by it all.  But I just noticed that the song keeps asking if someone was there when "they" did all these things to Jesus.  Who were "they?"

1st Stanza:  Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
2nd Stanza:  Were you there when they nailed Him to the tree?
3rd Stanza:  Were you there when they laid Him in the tomb?

Who were the they?  How could they have been so awful to the kindest, most gentle man the world has ever known?  I could see that they had anger on their faces and hatred in their eyes for my Savior.  They were awful, horrible human beings with no souls.

But today, when the words were ringing through my head, I asked the question again, "Were you there...?"  And this time my heart replied.  "Yes, I was there."  I was there, but not as a witness.  

I was the one that crucified Him.  I was the one that nailed him to the tree.  And I was the one that laid Him in the tomb.

Then my heart broke and I started to cry.  It was me.  I was there.  Every time I reject Him, doubt Him, fear Him, abandon Him... I am hurting Him as much as those who drove the nails into His hands.  To consider myself more virtuous than those who held the hammer is to underestimate the value of Jesus' sacrifice on my behalf.

I think that so many of us distance ourselves from identifying with the physical murderers of Jesus and ask, "How could they do such a devastating thing?  What terrible people they were!  We would never do such a thing!"

And it's probably true.  Maybe we wouldn't have driven the actual spikes into Jesus' hand.  But if we are reading the Bible carefully, we'll see that it wasn't the pain of the crucifixion that killed Jesus.  It was the weight of our sins.  So we are, in fact, the ones that killed Him.

This is a humbling thought to consider but it brings, with it, a desire for repentance.  It draws me to my knees to the foot of the cross where I can bring all of me to Jesus and say, "It should have been me on that cross, instead of you.  What else can I give you to show you my broken heart?  Here, take all of me.  I lay it all down."

When I willingly put down my sinfulness, my hands are free to accept His gift.  I have the privilege to stand with the redeemed and witness not the crucifixion or the death but the victory, instead.  So when we get to the 4th stanza of the song, I'm no longer kneeling, but standing hand-in-hand with His other children and I can say, "Yes, I was there when God raised Him from the tomb!"  Everything Jesus experienced was on our behalf.  That was our death He died.  And when God raised Him up, He raised us up to new life as well.

Were you there for the whole song?  Please don't look at only the last stanza.  Although it is the cornerstone of our testimony, it cannot be sung without recognizing that we were also there for the previous stanzas.  Humility, repentance, offering ourselves, accepting Christ's sacrifice, and then experiencing the new life.  It's all part of the same package.  It's all part of the same song that we will sing for all eternity.

broken shells

This was a post I wrote almost 4 years ago.  I removed it from my blog a while ago although, now, I'm not sure why.  

Every time I walk the beach, just for fun, I search for very white rocks and shell pieces.  I often find a few standing out among the grays and browns of the rocks and sticks.  

Stark white pieces are few and far between.  That's what makes them special.  So I like to collect them and put them in a little bowl so I can look at them and enjoy them.

Today I sat down in a sheltered location among some logs.  All around my feet there were tons of tiny pieces of broken shells.  I picked up as many as I could but then I'd spot another one and another.  Every time I moved my foot, the rocks below my feet would shift and another few pieces of clean white shells would be exposed.

Sometimes my moments with God are like the white shells.  Little moments of beauty among the grays and browns of the day.  I hope I will be able to find that special place where the moments will be so great in number that my pockets will not be able to hold them all.   


On a separate note, I know the shells are broken.  But that's okay, because so am I.

Who is the Lamb?

As I was putting away my nativity today, wrapping each ceramic shepherd and angel in tissue paper, the last remaining items were baby Jesus and a lamb.  I wasn't really paying attention to my work since I was listening to some music while working and was caught up in the moment of the music.  But when I saw the baby and the lamb, my hands stopped working and I looked at the two fragile figurines sitting together in the empty stable.

The lamb and the baby that became the lamb.

One creature who was completely oblivious to the weight of the world's sins, and one Being who would carry the weight of the world's sins.

For the longest time I thought that the sacrificial lamb represented Jesus.  But I had a difficult time with that picture because in all the stories of the shepherd and the lambs, the lambs are the ignorant ones.  They are the ones always getting lost and completely unaware of the dangers that they step into.

I suppose it's because the Bible tells us that a "spotless" lamb had to be offered for the sacrifice and so we figure that must be like Jesus.  But there is nothing spotless in this world.  Everything has been touched by the hand of sin. Finding a spotless lamb would not even be possible. I'm guessing the priests found the most perfect lamb that they could. And that would just have to do.  But in all reality, there was nothing perfect.

How could Jesus represent a dumb animal?

Well...He can't.

So every time they made a sacrifice to God for their sins, they did their best to offer up the most innocent thing they could find.  But in spite of all their efforts, their sins were not washed away.  Instead, the stains of the blood, from the sacrifice, only deepened as they added one sacrifice after another to that cold, stone alter.  Because there is nothing we can do, no "perfect" offering we can offer, no sinless act we can sacrifice, that would wipe the slate clean.

And that's when Jesus came down, picked up the not-quite-perfect lamb with his gentle hands, and laid Himself down on that alter and said, "Sacrifice me instead."  And so we did.  We raised the knife with our own hands of sin and brought it down into the heart of perfection and spotless beauty.

The Bible says that we are all part of a holy priesthood.  The priest's job was to kill the lamb for the sake of our sins and we - each of us - have done that.  When we accept our imperfect nature, when we acknowledge that we are ignorant and foolish and prone to getting lost, when we recognize that we're no different than a stupid animal, we place that on the alter.  And then Jesus steps up, removes our sinfulness and takes our place.

But He can't do that unless we give it up to Him.  We need to recognize who we really are and who He really is.  We are that lamb, nuzzling beside him in the stable, completely unaware of our impending fate, until He stands up and takes our place.

The lamb is dumb.  One of the dumbest farm animals, actually.  And yet, every time we look at the lamb in the context of the Spirit, we see the Son of God.

When Jesus became a human, He did not reduce Himself and give up His status in Heaven.  He elevated us.

There is this overwhelming urge inside my spirit to bow down and worship Him when I try to wrap my head around this insanity.  How can Someone love me this much?  I can't even comprehend that kind of love.

When I ponder these things, how can I continue to doubt that my life is in His hands?  And yet I do.  Almost every day.  I doubt and I fear and I wonder if He's near.

There are so many stories and references in the Bible to Jesus as the Shepherd. How could I have missed it?  I am that lamb.  And He is my Shepherd.  And there is nothing He won't do to protect me.  He would even lay down His own life for mine.

The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want...