July 30, 2012
"So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children,
how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask Him." Matthew 7:11
Late last week my father-in-law called to ask what gift our daughter might like to receive in honor of her birthday. Shamefully prepared for the question I gave my father-in-law several ideas.
For the record I believe every grandmama and grandad should be entitled to purchase whatever gift they like for their grandchild. But do you want to know the truth? I love it when people solicit ideas from me. Why? Because I know my child. I know her likes and dislikes. I know what size she wears, what color she prefers. I know that she likes her clothes to fit loosely, and that for now she's not exactly the girly-girl type. I know that she loves music and that she wants to feel grown-up. I know what my daughter wants even before she asks. More than just her wants, I know what she needs. I know my child. So I love it when others come to me for advice in regards to my daughter.
Do you realize it's the same way between us and God?
God knows everything about me. He knows when I sit or when I rise. He knows my thoughts even when I'm far away. He knows everything I do. He knows what I'm going to say even before I say it. God knit me together in my mother's womb. He knows my anxious thoughts. He knows my heart. (Psalm 139:1-4, 13, 23)
God knows me . . . and He knows you. When we find ourselves in need or in want of something, who better to ask than our Heavenly Father?
When Jesus spoke on effective prayer He said, "Keep on asking, and you
will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep
on knocking, and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives. Everyone who seeks, finds. And to everyone who knocks, the door will be opened." (Matthew 7:7-8)
Keep on asking and I'll receive that for which I ask? Sounds great! However, there's a catch.
God is a good Father. Just as I declined the request my daughter made for a horse (gotta love a seven year old girl's heart!) our Heavenly Father may not always give us exactly what we want. Instead, He gives us what He knows we need.
James writes, "You want what you don't have, so you scheme and kill to get it. You are
jealous of what others have, but you can't get it, so you fight and wage
war to take it away from them. Yet you don't have what you want because
you don't ask God for it. And even when you ask, you don't get it because your motives are all wrong--you want only what will give you pleasure." (James 4:2-3)
God says that sometimes we fail to receive what we ask for because we ask for something He knows we don't need; we ask with selfish motives. When we ask God for something with a pure heart, however, He gives abundantly!
In 1 Kings 3 King Solomon asks God for wisdom to rule His people. Solomon asked God to equip him with something that would benefit others. God replies, "Because you have asked for
wisdom in governing my people with justice and have not asked for a
long life or wealth or the death of your enemies—I
will give you what you asked for! And
I will also give you what you did not ask for—riches and fame!" (1 Kings 3:11, 13) Solomon sought God with pure motives and God rewarded him. However, things fared differently for Solomon's father, King David.
In 2 Samuel 11 King David notices a beautiful woman bathing near his palace. Unmoved by the fact that this woman is married to a man named Uriah, King David sleeps with her and she becomes pregnant. In his moment of weakness King David arranges for Uriah to be killed in battle and then takes Uriah's widow as his wife. In 2 Samuel 12:8 God comes to David and says, "I
gave you your master’s house and his wives and the kingdoms of Israel
and Judah. And if that had not been enough, I would have given you much,
much more."
Can you hear the grief of a Father's broken heart?
Rather than recognizing that God had given David everything he needed--and would have given him much, much more--David allowed the desires of his flesh to rule his life. And David paid dearly in the loss of his child. But God is a God of compassion and forgiveness. In 2 Samuel 12 David professes his guilt before God and God restores David by blessing him with another son--Solomon, the wisest king to ever live.
James 1:17 reads, "Whatever is good and perfect comes down to us from God our Father." God may not always give us what we want but what He does give is good and perfect.
What is it that you need? What is it that you want? Go to your Father in prayer, to the One who knows you best. Delight yourself in the LORD and He will give you the desires of your heart. (Psalm 37:4)
Monday, July 30, 2012
Friday, July 27, 2012
Seven
July 27, 2012
"On the seventh day God had finished His work of creation, so He rested from all His work." Genesis 2:2
Today marks the seventh anniversary of the birth of our identical-twin daughters. Seven years ago today we received the unexpected news that our first and second child were gravely ill inside my womb. Seven years ago today doctors delivered our two babies and whisked them off to neonatal intensive care before we ever had the chance to hug them, kiss them or hold them. Seven years ago today
doctors diagnosed one of our twins with a Grade IV brain hemorrhage, and
told us that our daughter stood little chance for survival. Today marks the beginning of a string of events that would eventually lead to one of the most difficult experiences of my life.
While we REJOICE over the life of our surviving twin daughter our twins' birthday normally proves a difficult day for me to process. One child to celebrate; one child to mourn. It seems unfair. I despise death. I ache to hold two babies in my arms at once. The desires of my flesh quench the Spirit within.
But this year I noticed something different.
Seven represents the number of perfection and completion. God created the world in six days, and on the seventh He rested (Genesis 2:2). David was Jesse's seventh son (1 Chronicles 2:15). Jesus fed 5,000 men plus women and children with seven loaves of bread. When the crowed finished eating the disciples collected seven baskets of leftover food (Matthew 15:34-37). In the book of Revelation John writes a letter to the seven churches in the province of Asia (Revelation 1:4). Many claim seven as God's favorite number.
Seven years ago God used the death of our child to redirect the course of my life. While I sometimes failed to see the beauty of the path on which I traveled, seven years later I realize that He truly works all things for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28). In the seven years since the death of our child God has allowed me the privilege of sharing the hope of Christ with others--when I often feel unworthy of even mentioning His name. Seven years later I find myself having just returned from serving the Lord in two different countries. Seven years after the premature birth of our twin daughters my life feels more full and rich than I ever dreamed possible. Though I once felt incomplete without my child, seven years later I realize that my completeness comes from Christ and in living the life He intended for us to live.
The mama in me misses our daughter. But the child of God in me rejoices daily in His presence. What normally proves to be a difficult month faded to a few difficult moments yesterday afternoon. Because
I miss our daughter less? No. Because the hurt fades? Not necessarily.
Because time heals wounds? Not ever. Because the grace of God rescued
me? Absolutely!
I realize the depth to which a parent can plummet following the loss of a child--indeed I've experienced the hopelessness, and would feel blinded by despair now except that I asked God to show me the way out of my pain. And once I asked, "He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand." (Psalm 40:2)
Happy 7th Birthday my darlings.
"On the seventh day God had finished His work of creation, so He rested from all His work." Genesis 2:2
Today marks the seventh anniversary of the birth of our identical-twin daughters. Seven years ago today we received the unexpected news that our first and second child were gravely ill inside my womb. Seven years ago today doctors delivered our two babies and whisked them off to neonatal intensive care before we ever had the chance to hug them, kiss them or hold them. Seven years ago today
doctors diagnosed one of our twins with a Grade IV brain hemorrhage, and
told us that our daughter stood little chance for survival. Today marks the beginning of a string of events that would eventually lead to one of the most difficult experiences of my life.
While we REJOICE over the life of our surviving twin daughter our twins' birthday normally proves a difficult day for me to process. One child to celebrate; one child to mourn. It seems unfair. I despise death. I ache to hold two babies in my arms at once. The desires of my flesh quench the Spirit within.
But this year I noticed something different.
Seven represents the number of perfection and completion. God created the world in six days, and on the seventh He rested (Genesis 2:2). David was Jesse's seventh son (1 Chronicles 2:15). Jesus fed 5,000 men plus women and children with seven loaves of bread. When the crowed finished eating the disciples collected seven baskets of leftover food (Matthew 15:34-37). In the book of Revelation John writes a letter to the seven churches in the province of Asia (Revelation 1:4). Many claim seven as God's favorite number.
Seven years ago God used the death of our child to redirect the course of my life. While I sometimes failed to see the beauty of the path on which I traveled, seven years later I realize that He truly works all things for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28). In the seven years since the death of our child God has allowed me the privilege of sharing the hope of Christ with others--when I often feel unworthy of even mentioning His name. Seven years later I find myself having just returned from serving the Lord in two different countries. Seven years after the premature birth of our twin daughters my life feels more full and rich than I ever dreamed possible. Though I once felt incomplete without my child, seven years later I realize that my completeness comes from Christ and in living the life He intended for us to live.
The mama in me misses our daughter. But the child of God in me rejoices daily in His presence. What normally proves to be a difficult month faded to a few difficult moments yesterday afternoon. Because
I miss our daughter less? No. Because the hurt fades? Not necessarily.
Because time heals wounds? Not ever. Because the grace of God rescued
me? Absolutely!
I realize the depth to which a parent can plummet following the loss of a child--indeed I've experienced the hopelessness, and would feel blinded by despair now except that I asked God to show me the way out of my pain. And once I asked, "He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand." (Psalm 40:2)
Happy 7th Birthday my darlings.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
The Rocks Speak
July 17, 2012
"He replied, 'If they kept quiet, the stones along the road would burst into cheers!'" Luke 19:40
While in Africa I had the pleasure of speaking at local churches on Sunday mornings (did I mention that ONE church service runs three and a half to four hours?!?). The first Sunday I prepared two different messages. Having realized in my own life the importance of building our foundation
of faith on God's Word rather than on hearsay, I based one message on
the passage found in Matthew 7:24-27.
"Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. Though
the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat
against that house, it won’t collapse because it is built on bedrock. But anyone who hears my teaching and doesn’t obey it is foolish, like a person who builds a house on sand. When the rains and floods come and the winds beat against that house, it will collapse with a mighty crash."
As Saturday night drew to a close I remained unsure of which message God intended for me to deliver the next morning. I prayed over and over for wisdom and discretion. Desperate for direction I decided to ask God for a sign.
In all honesty, I'm not sure it pleases God when we ask Him for signs. In Judges 6 Gideon asked God twice for a sign to affirm that he should attack the Midianites. But I also observe in the next chapter of Judges that God seemed to require an increased amount of faith on behalf of Gideon when God decreased Gideon's army from over 30,000 to just 300. God prefers for us to follow Him by faith, not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7).
I'm uncertain of what motivated me to ask God for a sign. Call it weak faith, call it jet-lag but the night before I spoke I asked God to show me a brick. Just one tiny brick. I decided that if I arrived to the church and saw a brick--or anything that even remotely resembled a brick--then I would deliver the message based on the passage in Matthew 7 (do you follow my logic . . . bricks as in building our foundations on the Rock?). No brick meant I would deliver the message I had originally prepared.
Are you sitting down?
Because as we arrived at the church the next day, this is what I saw.
Do you see them? Not just one brick. A whole pile of bricks. Right there, at the bottom right corner of this picture.
The photo is an original; no photo-shop here. Just an image of our powerful God who loves to interact with His children.
In Luke 19 Jesus told the Pharisees that if His followers hadn't shouted praises to Him, the rocks would have rejoiced in their place. To the casual observer, it's just a pile of bricks in my photo. But to me the rocks speak volumes of God's love, presence, awareness and very desire to communicate with me.
"He replied, 'If they kept quiet, the stones along the road would burst into cheers!'" Luke 19:40
While in Africa I had the pleasure of speaking at local churches on Sunday mornings (did I mention that ONE church service runs three and a half to four hours?!?). The first Sunday I prepared two different messages. Having realized in my own life the importance of building our foundation
of faith on God's Word rather than on hearsay, I based one message on
the passage found in Matthew 7:24-27.
"Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. Though
the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat
against that house, it won’t collapse because it is built on bedrock. But anyone who hears my teaching and doesn’t obey it is foolish, like a person who builds a house on sand. When the rains and floods come and the winds beat against that house, it will collapse with a mighty crash."
As Saturday night drew to a close I remained unsure of which message God intended for me to deliver the next morning. I prayed over and over for wisdom and discretion. Desperate for direction I decided to ask God for a sign.
In all honesty, I'm not sure it pleases God when we ask Him for signs. In Judges 6 Gideon asked God twice for a sign to affirm that he should attack the Midianites. But I also observe in the next chapter of Judges that God seemed to require an increased amount of faith on behalf of Gideon when God decreased Gideon's army from over 30,000 to just 300. God prefers for us to follow Him by faith, not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7).
I'm uncertain of what motivated me to ask God for a sign. Call it weak faith, call it jet-lag but the night before I spoke I asked God to show me a brick. Just one tiny brick. I decided that if I arrived to the church and saw a brick--or anything that even remotely resembled a brick--then I would deliver the message based on the passage in Matthew 7 (do you follow my logic . . . bricks as in building our foundations on the Rock?). No brick meant I would deliver the message I had originally prepared.
Are you sitting down?
Because as we arrived at the church the next day, this is what I saw.
Do you see them? Not just one brick. A whole pile of bricks. Right there, at the bottom right corner of this picture.
The photo is an original; no photo-shop here. Just an image of our powerful God who loves to interact with His children.
In Luke 19 Jesus told the Pharisees that if His followers hadn't shouted praises to Him, the rocks would have rejoiced in their place. To the casual observer, it's just a pile of bricks in my photo. But to me the rocks speak volumes of God's love, presence, awareness and very desire to communicate with me.
Kingdom Work
July 17, 2012
"But on the judgment day,
fire will reveal what kind of work each builder has done. The fire will
show if a person’s work has any value." 1 Corinthians 3:13
"But on the judgment day,
fire will reveal what kind of work each builder has done. The fire will
show if a person’s work has any value." 1 Corinthians 3:13
Monday, July 16, 2012
Beautiful Feet
July 16, 2012
"How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of the messenger who brings
good news, the good news of peace and salvation, the news that the God
of Israel reigns!" Isaiah 52:7
Africa lies nearly half a world away from the good ol' US of A. Forty-eight hours passed from the time our team left the Lone Star State to the time we arrived in Rwanda. With little sleep on the plane(s) I arrived to our destinations feeling like a zombie (and looking like one too).
While waiting to board
the plane to Nairobi, Kenya from London I noticed many mzungu's (that's
African for "white people") in line. From their matching attire I identified at least three Christian groups. My heart filled with warmth at the thought of God moving so many feet to bring good news to Africa. And while I want to believe that God
used each of the American teams to accomplish His purpose in Africa, I
can't help but to consider how much He used the beautiful feet of Africans to accomplish His purpose
in us.
I wonder if your impressions of Africa prove similar to the preconceived notions I had before I traveled to this beautiful land. Inept at geography I failed to remember much from grade-school about the world's second-largest continent. I simply thought of Africa as a place where people went without food and proper shelter; a place overrun with fighting and barbaric practices; a place deep in need of the hope and love of Christ. And while many of those preconceived notions proved true, I realized a heart and spirit about Africa that exceeded my wildest dreams.
God moved in Africa in ways I've never before seen Him move in America. Many Africans have endured vicious crimes against them and their families; many of them live in conditions which would prove fatal to you and me; many of them feel blessed to have even one meal per day--one meal of rice, beans and potatoes. Some of our national ministry partners there continue to go without food. But still these believers praise the Lord with all their being. They know and depend on God at a level I believe few Americans--myself included--will ever experience.
One of the women said to me through a translator, "If we and our children wake up in the morning we know it is by God's grace. We praise Him because He let us live another day."
Ever lived with that kind of gratitude?
I fell in love with Africa but I question why. It's just me--a mzungu from America, a cowgirl (as the Africans called me) from Texas. Why do my heartstrings feel such a tug to return? I believe it is because in Africa I experienced God like never before. God moves in America but oftentimes we're too busy to take notice. In Africa, there's not much to distract. False religion, yes. But when the power of God begins to work in an African heart, the glory of God is evident for all to see.
I thought we were the ones God intended to send to Africa with "beautiful feet" (Isaiah 52:7). But it was the feet of the African women and children to which I found myself most attracted. Feet which rise to praise God for allowing them to awake another day. Feet which carried them 3 hours daily each way to attend Bible study. Feet which stand firm in faith regardless of what comes their way.
"How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of the messenger who brings
good news, the good news of peace and salvation, the news that the God
of Israel reigns!" Isaiah 52:7
Africa lies nearly half a world away from the good ol' US of A. Forty-eight hours passed from the time our team left the Lone Star State to the time we arrived in Rwanda. With little sleep on the plane(s) I arrived to our destinations feeling like a zombie (and looking like one too).
While waiting to board
the plane to Nairobi, Kenya from London I noticed many mzungu's (that's
African for "white people") in line. From their matching attire I identified at least three Christian groups. My heart filled with warmth at the thought of God moving so many feet to bring good news to Africa. And while I want to believe that God
used each of the American teams to accomplish His purpose in Africa, I
can't help but to consider how much He used the beautiful feet of Africans to accomplish His purpose
in us.
I wonder if your impressions of Africa prove similar to the preconceived notions I had before I traveled to this beautiful land. Inept at geography I failed to remember much from grade-school about the world's second-largest continent. I simply thought of Africa as a place where people went without food and proper shelter; a place overrun with fighting and barbaric practices; a place deep in need of the hope and love of Christ. And while many of those preconceived notions proved true, I realized a heart and spirit about Africa that exceeded my wildest dreams.
God moved in Africa in ways I've never before seen Him move in America. Many Africans have endured vicious crimes against them and their families; many of them live in conditions which would prove fatal to you and me; many of them feel blessed to have even one meal per day--one meal of rice, beans and potatoes. Some of our national ministry partners there continue to go without food. But still these believers praise the Lord with all their being. They know and depend on God at a level I believe few Americans--myself included--will ever experience.
One of the women said to me through a translator, "If we and our children wake up in the morning we know it is by God's grace. We praise Him because He let us live another day."
Ever lived with that kind of gratitude?
I fell in love with Africa but I question why. It's just me--a mzungu from America, a cowgirl (as the Africans called me) from Texas. Why do my heartstrings feel such a tug to return? I believe it is because in Africa I experienced God like never before. God moves in America but oftentimes we're too busy to take notice. In Africa, there's not much to distract. False religion, yes. But when the power of God begins to work in an African heart, the glory of God is evident for all to see.
I thought we were the ones God intended to send to Africa with "beautiful feet" (Isaiah 52:7). But it was the feet of the African women and children to which I found myself most attracted. Feet which rise to praise God for allowing them to awake another day. Feet which carried them 3 hours daily each way to attend Bible study. Feet which stand firm in faith regardless of what comes their way.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
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