Roger Whitcomb – Page 2 – Musings of a Disciple

Speaking for God

So, I’ve spent a lot of time on Facebook lately. Pray for me! Seriously, doesn’t seem like a good habit, in many ways. But I have noticed a few things that I wanted to comment on, and, again, Facebook doesn’t seem like a safe place to do it.

Let me start off with a scary statement that came to my attention in a new way some months ago, and it is this:

Therefore, behold, I am against the prophets, saith the LORD, that steal my words every one from his neighbor.
Jeremiah 23:30

The way this came up was in the context of sharing in our church, which was and is meant to be done in the sense of “prophecy” (noun) or “prophesying” (verb), meaning speaking things that God has already spoken to our own hearts and sharing with others for their edification, etc. (see a fuller discussion in 1 Corinthians 14 if you’re interested). And when this verse from Jeremiah came up it was noticed that sometimes (oftentimes?) we can hear really good teaching or preaching or “prophecy” which stirs our minds, excites our imaginations and captivates us, so that we want to share that nugget with others. BUT it can be that we have never really HEARD what God was speaking to our own hearts. And so even when sharing this great truth, God can be against us because we have essentially just stolen the words from whoever we heard it from, in that we did not let that word do its work WITHIN OURSELVES first before we share it.

And I KNOW I’ve been guilty of this. On many occasions.

Ouch!

I’ve been thinking about this in the sense of Matthew 7:1 (“Judge not lest you be judged.”) lately. I think, if I understand God’s heart in this, He wants us to weigh our words and hearts and motives before we speak, before we even think, in every situation, “Am I judging / about to judge?” this person, or this situation? And if so, am I completely blameless with respect to it or them? And even if that is true, is this going to help the person / situation by me saying it now? But, sadly, mostly I hear this verse quoted essentially as a defense against being criticized or corrected by someone (and usually when the person who says it is quite clearly guilty as charged). So, the word that Jesus spoke that is meant to promote peace and sincere love and understanding becomes a weapon to divide, to put down, to ward off the life-giving rebuke we so desperately need.

So … I’ve been conscious in all these posts of trying to (at least) THINK before publishing, “Is this really what I’ve experienced / heard from God about / know for certain / is being applied to my life already?” And seriously, I’ve had lots of ideas about stuff to write about, but checked myself, because … well … it wasn’t REAL in my life yet; wasn’t a part of me, but just good ideas and exalted thoughts. So, feel free to weigh in if I have failed (well, it’s probably hard for anyone reading this to see my life that closely, but still ….)

The further thought about this relates to Facebook that I mentioned to begin with (and probably other social media, too, for that matter). “Christian” memes. Quotes from the Bible against pretty pictures. Pithy sayings against flashy colored backgrounds. You’ve seen them. Maybe you have posted some (or many?). But, are we stealing these words? Have we happened on words that tickled our brains or even stirred our emotions but didn’t (yet) hit the mark of our deepest hearts (that place where it says the Word of God divides like a sharp two-edged sword)? And so we’re just stealing them because we haven’t paid the price to really HEAR them first.

John the Baptist asked the people (including the religious leaders) that were coming to him:

O generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come?
Luke 3:7b (KJV)

And, seriously, I believe God spoke that to my heart some years ago, and really caused me to think. Am I truly warned of God to flee the wrath to come (because of my sin)? Or am I coming because of custom, peer pressure, habit, desire for self-improvement or whatever other motive I might have? Am I really convicted that I am a sinner, and doomed to eternal destruction because of my own sins and therefore really NEED a Savior? Or is it somewhat less than that?

Because, and here’s the other reason, I believe, that God is angry with the so-called prophets in Jeremiah’s time: if we aren’t convinced of our own need for a Savior, then how can we really, truly, encourage/convince/exhort others to seek salvation either? We are found to be false witnesses, speaking of things that we haven’t really witnessed in our own lives. And all our efforts will only result in more people like ourselves, hypocritically espousing “truths” that we haven’t appropriated, bashing others with words we haven’t taken to heart, and disheartening those who have paid the price by our shallowness. Speaking to myself first of all (I hope, I pray)…

I also think that’s one reason I started this blog (as opposed to just posting on Facebook, for instance): as a reaction to these pithy quotes, these catchy sayings, and (what seem to me to be) shallow thinking and understanding. I don’t want to be guilty of that. I don’t think anyone is helped by that. I don’t think God is happy with it. It is all too easy to see a quote, to read a line, to have a thought, and immediately share it. And I see people sharing stuff 20 or 30 times a day! Seriously? You had time to digest each of those things? I want to share deep things, and hard things, and very personal things, sometimes things that take days to ponder and rewrite and reread and polish. Things that take more that 140 characters or 1″ of screen space to say.

So then there’s that personal aspect. By that I mean, it’s easy (again) to share something someone else has said, even to quote great truths from great teachers and preachers. Select, Copy, Paste, Share. Done. And I have been edified (some) by some of these things. But, part of (most of?) what Jesus meant by our being “witnesses” (I believe) is that we are involved; we have seen; we have thought about, pondered, been challenged and changed by what we saw, by what occurred. But if I read / hear / share something and all there is is the quote, the words of others, where’s the personal part? Where’s the “and this is how it affected me” part? Where’s the help I might need in applying it to my own (21st century) life because I see how you applied it? Where’s the faith you could share that maybe it could happen for me because it happened for you? Bottom line: are we sharing a frozen dinner that we warmed up in the microwave but had no actual part in preparing? Or are we / am I serving a meal made from scratch, made with love, coming from experience, tasted and stirred and prepared through my own life? And which is more satisfying?

I want this blog to be the latter; and I want my life to be that, most of all. Taking things I have seen and heard, and running them thoroughly through my life, preparing a meal that can really satisfy.

How am I doing?

Thanks for listening and praying!

Too Much?

So, this has been preying on my mind and heart for several months now, so I really need to talk about it. The “Elephant in the Room”, the “Big Question”: am I doing “Too Much”?

There are several reasons I’m even asking the question:
1. Every time someone asks me how I’m doing, basically I start going through the list of all the things I’m now involved in, and each time the list gets longer. Red flag!
2. Good friends who’ve known me for a long time (and even my father, who’s known me the longest), their first reaction is: “That’s a lot of stuff you’re doing”.
3. But most obviously, I go around the house sighing and crying and praying, “Lord, how am I going to get all this stuff done?” And by “all this stuff” I mean pretty obvious things like: a) The pile of bills and correspondence and mail completely covering the dining table, b) The 2 foot tall thistles slowly taking over the yard and garden, c) The fact that I almost never cook anything at home, despite the 4 new cookbooks, 2 new pans and new chef’s knife I’ve bought over the last few months… … …

And you’re probably wondering the same thing I have been forced to ask myself, “Am I doing too much?”.

It’s not an easy question to ask (for me, at least). Why? Well, I’ve invested in all the stuff I am doing. Like lots of money, and now time, and emotional effort. I’ve made some new friends, which feels desperately necessary at this time. I’m developing skills (like music and writing and woodworking) that I’ve long wanted to do, but never felt like I had the time to while I was married, and taking care of her (and not to mention working, etc.). And I’m planning for a retirement that I wish could come sooner than age 70 (or 72, or 80, or 95)! And I feel an urgency / necessity / drive to carry on with my wife’s legacy in compassion and service now that she’s gone. So …. all “good” reasons (at least in my mind) to basically ignore the hard things (like housecleaning, yard work, finances) to do the fun things, like building stuff in the garage, taking 20 mile bike rides with the Velo club, volunteering with three non-profits, and etc. etc.

Not to mention the fact that I can’t seem to go to bed. At night. Although naps are frequent.

Nor the fact that my “marching orders” for this season (from I Corinthians 7:35) are “serving the Lord without distraction”. One thing I “learned” about this early on was from Luke 2:37, from the widow Anna, who “served God with fastings and prayers night and day”. I say “learned” in quotes because I don’t think I’m really doing this yet. I mean, I do fast and pray, but not with any consistency, and not appreciably more than I used to. And some of my busyness, namely the work for the three non-profits (which are all Christian ministries in town) seems to me to be “serving the Lord without distraction”, in that I don’t have to feel like I’m taking time from my family in order to do it. Which feels pretty good. I can put my whole heart into it. I can pretty much give as much time and effort as is required, and I can volunteer for tasks pretty much on a moment’s notice.

But then there’s the bills. And the weeds. And the laundry, and vacuuming, and cooking and, and, and … which AREN’T getting done. Much.

So, what does “serving the Lord without distraction” mean in this midst of all this craziness?

My first blog post was kind of about this: talking about peace in the midst of busyness, in the forest. And I just read a part in a fascinating book I’m reading (“The Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert” [highly recommend it, by the way]) where she talks about them finding ways to draw strength and spiritual nourishment from the Lord in the midst of their busy seasons. I’ve experienced that.

And I had a bit of insight last week, as I thought, “Why am I beating myself up that I can’t (yet) do the work of two people [well, actually more, since it took at least 5 of us, friends and family, to do all of the stuff my wife was doing before she got too sick]?” And I’ve heard numerous messages about how trials (should) drive us to lean on, to depend on Jesus more and more, as we see the end of our own strength and resources. In fact, that was a hymn that helped the two of us get through some of the hard days in the months of weakness before she died:

He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
To added afflictions He addeth His mercy,
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.
When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.
Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.
His love has no limits, His grace has no measure,
His power no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.
“He Giveth More Grace” – Annie Johnson Flint (from https://library.timelesstruths.org/music/He_Giveth_More_Grace/)

The other thing I was just realizing (now that I’ve let this post sit for a week or more) is actually a couple of things: One is that it’s “hard to steer a parked car”. In other words, if God is really going to steer my life (if “Lord” means what it should) then I need to be moving and not sitting around waiting for something to happen to me. Second, if the several parables that Jesus taught about the “talents” and the “minas” are important to me, then I really need to be active in using what God has graciously allowed me to have. Not for my own glory, but “using my worldly wealth to win friends for the eternal kingdom”. And, I’m going to have to answer for all the talents, opportunities, insights, money, time, gifts, and provision He has given.

So, in some senses, I feel like even the question, “Too Much?” is “me-centered”. The question I really need to be asking is, “Does what I’m doing glorify my God and my Savior?” And if it does, then there is not ever “too much” that I could do for Him to repay Him for what He has done for me!!

And Philippians 3:14 has come to mean a lot more to me lately: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” And maybe that is the operative answer to my question. Is it “too much”? Is it “too much” for God?

Thanks for reading and praying!

Unity

I was reading the prophet Daniel’s prayer of confession and intercession (found in Daniel chapter 9) a few days ago and for some reason just found myself weeping over the lack of unity in the Body of Christ, totally contrary to Jesus’ greatest desire (see John 17:11, 21) that “they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that thou hast sent me.” (KJV) It seems no wonder (for instance) that there seems to be so little effect of the church in the world, if Jesus’ perception was that our unity in Him is going to be a huge factor in whether or not anyone believes the message. And is it also any wonder, then, that the enemy would work overtime to divide Christians, so that our effectiveness against his kingdom would be blunted, stifled, and quashed?!

I have to look no further than my Facebook feed, among the 300 or so of my (mostly) Christian friends, to find at least 10 issues / doctrinal points around which we seem to be divided. Or to look at the 50 churches amongst a population of less than 50,000 in this area, all more or less divided by some denominational / doctrinal issue or issues or system or viewpoint. Or to look at the grumbling in the church I attend over style of music, choice of praise songs, the style of the pastor’s preaching, or a bazillion other “things” that we find a reason to disagree with.

And I myself am not exempt from such evil. I have found myself in conversations, online and in person, where I either stopped myself or had to apologize because I crossed the line already and was participating in useless arguments about such things. Or harbored resentment and jealousy because I was “disrespected” or someone else’s (wrong in my eyes’) opinion was favored. Or turned and stomped out of the room in anger because I was corrected “unfairly”.

All of which leads to several questions:

How much of this division and disunity is real, that is, it should be there because one (or both) parties really lack the Spirit of Truth, and therefore are not actually part of the Body of Christ (I John 4:6)? Light has no fellowship with darkness.
How much is actually pride and self-seeking, because we naturally want to find a way to distinguish / exalt ourselves above everyone else?
How much is due to immaturity or lack of sound teaching, so that those involved are simply ignorant of the truth?
How much is “the blind men and the elephant”? In other words, are we “divided” because we each see a slightly different part of a much greater whole, and therefore we are all “right” in some senses, although different in our experiences?
And how much is due to traditions of men being exalted above the Word of God (Colossians 2:8)?
And most importantly, how much of all this is in me (and that I’m woefully unaware of or deliberately ignoring)?

It is quite true that these are perilous times. I reread George Orwell’s “1984” recently and was seriously weirded out for several days afterwards. Mostly, I think, I was shaken to my core that we are heading for / have become such a society already (well, 35 years “late” actually). “Hate speech”, “Fake news” and the like have now become almost constant topics of conversation. The truths that used to be “self-evident” are no longer so. Good is being called evil, and evil is being exalted, worshipped, and called “rights” and “health care” and the greatest good. And instead of being a voice and an example of truth, righteousness, and real love, I fear the church has become just another meaningless voice indistinguishable from all the other voices out there exercising their free speech to silence others.

There are those, however, who have not soiled their clothes, who have not bowed the knee to the gods of this world, and who will shine like the stars forever in the kingdom of God. But, am I one of them? Can I even discern my own errors?

I have several tests for myself that I often come back to.

Am I staying close to Jesus, in that I pray about everything, I quickly confess and turn away from sin when I’m aware of it, I listen for His voice through the Scripture, and I obey what I hear when I hear it?
Am I troubled when I sin? Do I even care if I please God or not? Do I value the opinions of men more than the righteous judgment of God?
Am I in submission to godly elders and leaders of my local church? Am I even in fellowship with godly people? Or am I just “going to church”?
Do I hunger and thirst for the Word of God? Do I value that in others?
Am I seeking to “redeem the time”, to lay down my life for the kingdom and for others? Or do I just want to be entertained and comforted and validated?
Do I even value this unity that Jesus desired? Or do I mostly want to be “right” and “correct” in my opinions?

Honestly, I fall short in a lot of ways. These tests have shown me many wrong answers. But deep down I also know that there is a Redeemer, and that if I confess my sins He is faithful and just to forgive me and to cleanse me from all unrighteousness (I John 1:9). I have no other real hope.

But I am also encouraged today, because I’ve seen an answer to desperate prayer last night first thing this morning. I’m encouraged because I still have breath, and today is the day of salvation. I’m encouraged because I know some other people who are also asking these questions, and really want to know the answers.

So, back to the subject of unity. Because this is where unity starts, continues, and finishes: at the cross, in Jesus, by the Spirit. Maybe it’s just because a lot of the church celebrates “Good Friday” today, as I’m writing this, but I hope we get it. I hope we can begin to see how great an offense we, as the “church”, have been to God Himself by our denominations and doctrines and divisions, and truly humble ourselves, and turn from our wicked ways, and seek His face so that He can come and heal our “land”, heal our churches, heal our families, heal our communities, and so that we who know Him can truly witness to a hurting, dying world of people that Jesus saves!

Abolition

Alright, I’m just going to write this. It’s politically incorrect and will probably offend everyone who reads it, but I’ve got to get this off my chest.

I want to talk about the abolition of abortion in these “United” States.

From my last post you will know that I am deeply involved in the pro-life movement, and specifically, currently, here in Roseburg Oregon. Which actually involves a lot more than just defending the unborn. It’s about doing everything we can to protect LIFE that comes from God. And I am committed now more than ever to seeing abortion ended in this country, and well, everywhere…

So just lately I’ve seen some pushback from “abolitionists”, who are now arguing against and vilifying others in the pro-life movement as being soft and compromising because they (the abolitionists) insist that since abortion is murder, that mothers who abort their babies should face murder charges (probably in addition to others involved in the abortion process, although there isn’t any controversy about “the others”). They insist that if we are to be consistent and actually end abortion that we must punish all involved equally.

Since I’m currently working with many women in the pro-life movement and was married to a mother who actually had three abortions (before we were married), I have some experience and as a result have some pretty deep convictions about this. And this “abolitionist” position makes me really angry, and here’s why:

In “normal” cases of murder, one of the primary discriminators between first-degree, second-degree, manslaughter, etc. is motive. Someone has died, but the culpability, the guilt, and therefore the degree of punishment often (and by law) comes down to other things surrounding that unfortunate and devastating event. Was is preplanned? Was it intentional? Was there malice? Were other criminal acts involved?
I have read at least one vocal abortion abolitionist who claims that all other (softer, and therefore “compromised”) pro-lifers are inconsistent because (he says) abortion is murder, and if I hire someone to murder for me, then I am just as guilty as the one who pulled the trigger, so to speak. And so, in his view, the same should apply to abortion. Mothers as well as abortionists should be charged with murder. I think this argument is misguided on several levels, so let me try to explain.
Yes, abortion is murder. No question in my mind. A separate, distinct human life has been forcibly terminated against its will.
But I think there is a huge gap in terms of motive, intentionality, malice, even knowledge, between the abortion doctor / facility who actually kill the baby (for money) and the mother who did the “hiring” of them. Not to mention the father of the (now dead) baby, who oftentimes seems to get a free pass in this whole debate, but who (often, but not always) has a hand in the abortion as well (maybe even the “hiring”) and who certainly participated in the act of conception that started the whole process.
Firstly, one statistic I’ve heard is that upwards of 60% of mothers who have abortions are COERCED into having them. Often by the fathers, or by the baby’s grandparents, or other family members. I’ve heard of PASTORS or their wives who have pushed their daughters into abortions for fear of the scandal getting out of an illicit pregnancy, and thereby ruining their “testimony”. So, statistically, in a super-majority of cases, the “murder” by the mother was actually against their wills, and therefore doesn’t even rise to the level of “murder” (legally speaking).
Secondly, those in the pro-abortion / pro-choice camp have for many years been preaching (obfuscating, propagandizing) that it’s “just a blob of cells, like a polyp”. And in spite of years of medical research, increasing technology, etc. MANY young mothers have never heard / seen this, and are therefore woefully ignorant of the FACT that this pregnancy is their little baby. Which is why, according to statistics, a HUGE percentage of mothers who get to see their baby via ultrasound images actually change their minds and don’t have the abortion (I’ve heard 80 or 90% or maybe more). So, arguably (and I think it’s a strong argument) these mothers don’t even think a human life is involved. So, legally speaking these don’t even rise to the level of “manslaughter”, much less murder, on the part of the mother. And have you noticed that the huge abortion industry and pro-abortion politicians, news media, etc. are now speaking of abortion in terms of “women’s health care”?!
Thirdly, there is a huge societal guilt that is ignored here as well, and on the part of the church to boot. As an example, during some of the revivals in America in the 19th century, the change was so profound in a number of places that the bars and brothels closed down because they had no more customers. Now apply that to abortion. How many abortion providers would have to close their doors if there were no more young women and men who were interested in their services? And revival can only come from the church. So where was the church in 1973 when Roe vs. Wade was decided? Where was the church when the Supreme Court justices who made that decision were going through catechism or confirmation (as the majority of young people did in the 1st half of the 20th century) and who were not taught the sanctity of life? Where was the church as teen pregnancy and divorce became more and more common? Where was the church as doctors sitting in their pews started to think about how much money they could make providing abortions? George Tiller (a notorious late-term abortionist) was killed in the Baptist church he attended…. I think we were mostly apathetic, uncaring and asleep to the dangers…. And the prophets tell us that God was/is mostly angry with the shepherds who were in charge and allowed these things to happen.
And where is the real love even now for the “adulteress caught in the very act” (John 8)? How do we treat the young women (or their boyfriends) who get pregnant out of wedlock in the church, or in our neighborhoods? Do we even know about it? Do they even feel safe enough to let us find out? Are we pushing them to abortions, even in subtle ways, by not providing the same atmosphere that Jesus did when the tax collectors and prostitutes gathered to hear him? Do we offer the same love and consistency that Jesus did when he said, “Neither do I condemn you, go and sin no more”?
And what about those boys, those young men? Do the abolitionists propose to give them the same punishment? I mean, oftentimes (not always since they could be married), the first crime (in God’s eyes) was the illicit sex that resulted in the pregnancy to begin with. I mean, it’s been a long road even to get the law to recognize that the johns who go to visit prostitutes are just as guilty (if not more so) than the women they visit (remember the bars that closed). So, if the issue is consistency of justice, why don’t men who get their girls pregnant and then leave them to make a hard choice to keep the baby (which they now would have to do alone) or terminate the pregnancy, have to face murder charges too, when the mother of their baby makes the horrifying decision to kill the baby as the lesser of two evils??? Not to mention those who actually pay for the abortions… (Not saying that punishing the men is part of the answer, but if we’re going to be consistent, then I think the question should be asked.)
And then, for consistency’s sake, why don’t we hear those same abolitionists argue that the parents who elect in-vitro fertilization and therefore have viable embryos destroyed should also be charged with murder??? It’s the same separate human life as an embryo in the womb, after all. And maybe they do make this argument; but I don’t hear the same vehemence about it.
And finally, I want to say, having heard/seen the testimonies of women having had abortions and the myriad of problems they face, such as depression, suicidal tendencies, drug addition, sexual problems, health problems, miscarriages, inability to conceive, guilt upon guilt. Not to mention rage, anxiety, other mental illnesses…. I want to say that many women who have (let’s just say it) aborted their babies, killed their babies, are TORTURED by that decision, that act, however much they were coerced or not, or knew or not. So, I have to ask, what perverted sense of justice does it serve to further charge a women who is racked with guilt by her abortion to then charge her with murder as well? She has already charged herself with it; constantly, day after day, year after year, and sometimes with death by suicide as a result.
Now, not that all women who have had abortions have such issues. Seemingly, scarily, there are women who are sincerely not troubled at all. And for those women, I could say, perhaps, charging them with murder might be “just”, “appropriate”. But I think these are the exception that doesn’t prove the rule.
So, my question to the abolitionists is this: “Which approach to the woman caught in adultery actually made a lasting change?” Was it the Pharisees gathered to stone the woman for her sins (but interestingly, not the man she was caught with)? Or was it Jesus who didn’t condemn her, but told her (and gave her the grace) to “go and sin no more”?

So, I’m angry. And I have to say I’m angry with myself more than anyone else. I came late and reluctantly to the pro-life movement. Shamefully I originally thought it was all political, and so I shouldn’t be involved with it. Doubly shamefully, even after coming to my senses I was too apathetic, had too little love, to actually do anything. I had no skin in the game. And but for the grace of God, I would have been one of those young men who would have gotten a young girl pregnant, and would have wanted the “problem to just go away”…. I know this about myself. Without Jesus, I am a selfish, cowardly, perverted person. I (inwardly at least) was the worst person I knew. And even now, I know I’m not as active as I could be, I haven’t sacrificed like many I know to end abortion, to help young women (and men) make good choices, to walk uprightly, to help young pregnant women make the courageous choice to do the RIGHT thing, to help young men to stand up and be MEN and also do the RIGHT things, to advocate for life, for righteousness, to point everyone I can to the Savior who alone has the answers. But I’m getting further.

Thanks for reading and praying.

The Paths of Life

I’ve been pondering the “path of my life” these last few weeks. This is related to the question of “who am I, now that I’m single (again)?” This appears to be a question that pretty much everyone who loses their spouse has to wrestle with, and I’d say for me especially since a big part of my life was just devoted to taking care of her as the cancer took over more and more. That’s not there anymore, and she’s not here anymore. But, life goes on, until it doesn’t, and I need (for many reasons) to have things outside of myself to be involved with. Plus I want to continue to honor her and continue with the work she would be doing if she was here also… Why? Because I believe in it too.

But, a story I’ve shared a number of times in the last few weeks has got me thinking about the actual course of my life from now on. And I’ve mentioned “serving the Lord without distraction” a lot as well. Which relates to the bigger question of not just my life, but life as a Christian at this time (as my blog title suggests). So, what is the “path of my life” right now?

Well, I have basically “doubled down” in my involvement with the pro-life community, both here locally, and in the country as a whole. I’ve been connected to and sharing posts from lots of nationally-visible people, helping at the local pro-life pregnancy clinic, about to join the Board of a local maternity home for single moms, serving on the Board of a local “Right To Life” chapter, and am planning on attending at least two pro-life conferences in the next few months. And I’m trying to strengthen, support and encourage these ministries as much as I can.

But I was just reading something written by a Chinese pastor, released after he was arrested and jailed, proclaiming his stance on persecution by the Chinese government against Christians, and why he felt compelled to resist the ungodliness of it, but without trying to change the laws or the government. And in some ways I totally agree with him, and in others I don’t. (Thanks, Grace Han, for sharing that, BTW). I have always voted (since becoming a Christian) believing that I should be “salt and light” and make known God’s ways (as best I can hear Him in such things) by the way I vote and the people and issues I support. But, I’ve also become really aware that our Hope (capital “H”) HAS to be in God Himself, and not in governments, laws, politicians, or human leaders of any stripe. But I still don’t think that I should stand by and let ungodliness prevail, and especially in the case of abortion, where innocent, helpless human lives are at stake. Proverbs 24:11-12 (Good News) says, “Don’t hesitate to rescue someone who is about to be executed unjustly. You may say that it is none of your business, but God knows and judges your motives.” So, now that I KNOW the truth about abortion, I can’t in good conscience just stand by and let the unjust execution (murder) continue, as much as I can help it. And if I can’t be there to stand beside every baby in the womb about to be aborted, at least I can work toward laws, towards a culture, that will protect them even if I can’t personally do it. But, I also know that even if Rowe v. Wade is finally overturned, and (probably) the onus falls back on the states to make laws for or against abortion, and even if every state outlaws it again (unlikely), that abortion is still going to continue. Because “the heart is desperately wicked” and people will always find ways to rebel against their Creator until He finally puts a stop to it all. So, all my “pro-life activism” still has to fit into the broader context that the ONLY solution is still individual “repentance toward God and faith toward our Lord Jesus” (Acts 20:21).

So, my next point is about local church involvement; living out the “repentance and faith” steps myself in every-day life. I’d like to say we found a “perfect church” (which, of course, doesn’t exist, but we were pretty close in the fellowship we had in San Jose) here in Roseburg, because I firmly believe that we all as Christians need to be connected to a local body, living out this Christian life in fellowship with other like-minded believers. But, we were finally led (I believe) to A local church, where I have and am becoming as involved as I can be. And I am finding fellowship, in addition, with other believers here in other contexts (coffee with some other pastors on a regular basis, lunch with other men, Bible Study groups, etc.) And I continue to interact with the church in San Jose via What’s App, texts, phone calls, once-every-six-week trips down there, and so on. But, even perfect teaching doesn’t mean anything if it’s not worked out in my life. And discipleship is only as good as the rubber that’s meeting the road when I’m tempted, or have a decision to make, or a life-course to plan. And one of the things that’s certainly meant a lot to me, both to give and to receive, is encouragement. And, in fact, the messages at the church here the last two weeks have been about that subject (and more broadly about “courage”). So I know that God is speaking to me here, through every and any means He can, because He loves me, and is still working out His purpose to make me like His Son (Romans 8:29).

But, the third point or track in this “life-path” is music. So, the story I’ve been telling (see above) lately is about the fork in the road I had to choose from as I was leaving high school, going on to college. I was basically a music and drama major in high school. I was in EVERY group that existed there. I’m actually not even sure why I did that, because I don’t ever recall a conscious “choice” to be a musician. In fact, I wasn’t even THAT good (a fact which was forcefully brought home to me when I failed to be good enough for the All-State Band and Choir, even though others right next to me were chosen). So, when confronted with this uncomfortable fact, and my naturally introverted, procrastinating self (meaning practice and self-discipline were NOT my strong suits), I chose “something else” as a college/career path, namely Engineering (headed toward Law, believe it or not), which morphed into Computer Science after I got a good taste of programming starting the summer after my freshman year. And I’ve been on that track for a good 43 years now (give or take), even though I never gave up on music entirely (well, not at all, really, since I now have about 25 instruments around the house). But, encouraged by any number of scriptures where we are commanded to praise the Lord with our instruments, and the feeling, to paraphrase a line from the movie “Chariots of Fire”, where Eric Liddell says, “When I run I can feel His pleasure”, that “When I play I can feel His pleasure”, I’ve now “doubled down” on music as well.

Her office which was unused after she passed has now become a recording studio and music room. And in addition to woodwinds, I’m now playing (well, trying to play might be more accurate) dulcimers, harp, piano, synthesizer, electric guitar and electric bass. And it’s kinda working. And I can feel His pleasure. And I’m encouraging others, I’m told. And I THINK I’m keeping my sanity this way (well, I guess that might be debatable, since several friends mentioned the probability of an intervention if I actually tried to get the harp….) But, I was told by my first pastor that God (Himself) had given me a gift of praise. So, that pretty much explains why I’m doing music at all, and why I have kept coming back to it, even without that conscious “choice”; it’s because it’s part of the structure of my being.

Oh, and I’m writing. Here, and in journals, and with one book started, and another in gestation. My college entrance exam scores were identical in Math and English, and both 99th percentile. But I’ve concentrated for 40+ years on the “Math” side of things. And done reasonably well. No complaints. So it kinda feels like I should be expanding that other “half” of me too. Now. As I’m questioning my “life path” and what it is that God wants me to do. And what it means to “serve Him without distraction”.

So, there you have it. The “state of the onion” as it were. Of course, there are a lot more things to life, everyday life, than just these things. There’s laundry, and vacuuming, and cooking, and bills, and taking care of Mercy my cat. And occasionally making wooden toys for the grandkids, and things for others. And camping and gardening (wow, is that a whole can of worms….) Oh, and a full-time job. So, I have a good, full life. Not that I don’t miss her (and cry almost every day). But I have to say that my life, at least right now, is not defined by the grief. And I haven’t fallen into the vortex of that emptiness where she used to be, although it’s been pretty close sometimes. But I have purpose, and I have some goals, but most of all, I have God as my Father, who is guiding me, encouraging me, correcting me, and giving me everything I need to do His Will.

And thanks for your prayers for me on this journey too!

Five Loaves and Two Fish

For those unfamiliar with the account, Jesus performed a miracle to feed five thousand men (and women and children, although the text doesn’t count them) with one little boy’s lunch of five barley loaves and two fish. This miracle is recorded in all four gospels (Matthew 14, Mark 6, Luke 9 and John 6). And from what I know, anytime God wants to say something IMPORTANT He will say it multiple times. So, I take it that Him saying it four times makes it pretty darn important!

But … what does that have to do with me, at this present moment, and during this season of my life?

There are several very interesting things that happened just before and just after this moment in Jesus’ and His disciples’ lives. In the gospel of John, Jesus right before this happened was teaching them about His authority, and about witnesses or testimonies of who He is. And right after that is the furious storm that arose on the Sea of Galilee, to which Jesus responded by walking out on the troubled water of the Sea to His frightened disciples, which made them even more afraid (John 6:19). All these events are connected. But then in Mark (6:52) there is a curious statement at the end of the account: “… they had not understood the real meaning of the feeding of the five thousand.”

So, that, to me, is the link between this account and my present distress, as it were.

Let me ‘splain it… In case you were wondering, being widowed (widowered?) is pretty lonely. There are lots of empty places in my heart, in my house, in my life that used to have her in them, and now they don’t. There are lots of things she did and was that (I thought) there was no replacement for. And in some senses that is quite true. No one will ever be her. But, and here’s where Jesus and His miracle comes in, there is a sufficiency in God that is way more than the loss and emptiness I’m feeling. You see, Jesus noticed that those who were listening to Him had gone a long time without eating, and that they were a long way from a place to get food. That was no accident (of course), since He had chosen the place where He stopped to teach. And likewise, it is no accident that I am where I am (a new city, new people, new environment) and also a long way from a partner / wife / best friend to fill that loneliness.

But, one of my first prayers after she died was like this: “Lord, help me to prove that You are sufficient for me.” Watch out what you pray for! “Five loaves and two fish, coming up.” So, I have to say at this point, even having prayed that, and meaning it, my first reactions weren’t exactly trusting that He would actually provide all I needed. I was pretty desperate for people and spent a lot of time being around others, getting involved, and cultivating friendships. Probably good things. But there was still a lack. And so lots of nights I would soak the pillow with my tears, crying out from the loneliness of that big, empty bed.

But, some sage advice from an elder brother this past weekend has sharpened my focus and I’m starting to see the loaves and fish multiplying in ways that I couldn’t see before. What he said was just this, “But we don’t grieve without hope.” At first, I was kind of upset, thinking he didn’t really know what I’m going through, and that he was just giving me a platitude, and that all my grieving was okay, etc., etc. But as I wrestled with it, and began to accept that in fact he did have my best interests at heart, I began to see the self-pity in a lot of my tears, and to see that my biggest lack was actually not of a wife anymore, but a lack of God, a lack of trust, a lack of deep fellowship with my Creator and Redeemer. And as I began to reach out to Him more these last couple of days, I’ve begun to see more of what He has actually provided, and how even the loneliness has a purpose, a bigger purpose than just making friends, or even (gasp) moving toward marriage again (which, by the way, I’m not sure is even a thing anyway, for me). Because, I, just like the disciples on the lake, didn’t understand the miracle of the loaves and fishes. Because if they or I had, then even very scary circumstances couldn’t have made us afraid, or anxious, or feeling abandoned. How could we even go there if our Creator, God of the Universe, is aware of our every need and will even suspend or override (or whatever it takes to do a miracle) the laws of gravity, biology, physics and chemistry to give us what we need and even more (twelve baskets of leftovers)??

So, I’m beginning to recognize (I was seeing some of it, but not appreciating it) SO MUCH provision for me that I have already received, and even more that I haven’t yet (mostly because I haven’t asked …) that I’m beginning to be satisfied, even joyful, in God my Savior (remember Mary’s song?). And I have to say the “lacks” I’ve been so afraid of were a lot of things (like counsel, wisdom, strength, joy, love, companionship) that I should actually have been getting from God all along, and probably short-circuited in many ways by wanting them from my wife… And so I could have loved her better when she was here if I had been more connected to my Father in Heaven! So … I’m learning. To love God, which is the first and the greatest commandment anyway, and likewise the second to love my neighbor as myself. Because I have been satisfied by my portion of five loaves and two fish, and the very words from His mouth!

I still miss her though. A lot. But she is completely happy and at rest now. And for that I am really glad! And can’t hardly wait to be there too!

And it’s not to say that I’m completely “there” yet either (lest you all think I’m way more spiritual than I am). But I am experiencing a peace and contentedness that hasn’t been there before, and an acceptance is starting to grow too, for which I am very grateful!

“Good” Days and “Bad” Days

Just yesterday I saw this new sharing from Jeremy Utley at New Covenant Christian Fellowship (San Jose) (see https://youtu.be/8OmA8zPzdFA) (which, to be honest I haven’t actually listened to yet as I’m writing this), but which reminded me of (I think) similar thoughts that have been coming up for me.

So, the main question is: “What makes for a ‘good’ day when I’m grieving?” or maybe easier to spot: “What makes a ‘bad’ day?”. And partly I want to say that mostly I have to answer this question because a lot of people ask how I’m doing, and it always feels like I need to have a quick one-phrase synopsis … But, that doesn’t seem to be easy these days. “I’m fine” is not true, but neither is “I’m horrible”. And so I have found myself trying to encapsulate my days (or weeks) in a few words in a way that can concisely communicate for others just what IS going on with me. And in the process of that I have found myself needing to redefine those terms “good days” and “bad days” as I come to grips with the “new normal” or “life alone” or “grieving with hope”, or whatever you want to call it.

Whew! Not an easy topic!

I used to think of “good days” in terms of (not in any particular order or priority):

Being productive at work
Good, warm, loving times with my wife
No significant financial stress
No relationship hassles
Basically no bumps in the road

Then cancer happened.

Then it started to seem like there weren’t a lot of those “good days” anymore. Almost every day brought new challenges, to where I think I stopped thinking about how good the days were, but more about just getting us through the days, and not dropping the ball (at least not too badly) as far as schedules, commitments, bills, doctor visits, etc. were concerned.

Then we moved and it seemed like once that once that was tidied up and we were settled in here that better days had come; a little farther from the noise and traffic and high costs, etc. of living in Silicon Valley. And the cancer seemed to have been conquered (or at least receded) and we could being to plan and explore and “enjoy life” again.

And then the cancer spread. Or at least we were forcibly made aware of the cancer spreading (since it had been doing that right along behind our backs) because she woke up the day after the doctor visit (“See you in six months”) with a ferocious headache, nausea, dizziness and so on, which took about two weeks to figure out that cancer had spread to her brain and lungs.

So then it was more radiation, chemo, tests, losing all her hair for the second and third times, and weakness and the “chemo brain” that was made worse by whole-brain radiation… All overshadowed by the questions of, “How much longer does she have?” and “How should we spend our remaining time together?”

To be honest, I didn’t want to talk about or even think about what would happen when she was gone. But I know I knew there wasn’t much time left. So, I secured a month-long vacation from work. We drove 5,000 miles together in our new truck and trailer. Explored a bunch of new places and some familiar ones. Those were really good days. But I think my definitions had already started to change in the process. Because I soon realized that difficulties and a lot of hard work were part and parcel of the enjoyment we had. I mean, hitching and unhitching the trailer, emptying sewer tanks, just getting fresh water, were challenging most times. Several (not many, but some) LONG days of driving were exhausting, and hey, even getting the new trailer in time to go was a huge problem that was largely out of our control. But, and here’s the key thing, at every difficulty or bump in the road was the opportunity to die to myself and lean harder on God, who was ALWAYS FAITHFUL to help, support, guide, comfort, encourage, and strengthen us. Or not, as in I could just get frustrated and angry and bitter, which did no one any good at all. So, I slowly learned to step back, to put things in His hands and rest. And I began to see even the worst of situations turn into “good days”, no matter what the circumstances originally appeared to be.

And the best part of it was I saw her relax too. Seeing me start to take charge, to “man up” and get through things with God’s help, she was happier, and more content, and able to enjoy the “hard times” herself.

And then she died.

And now things are on a whole new level.

And as I’ve been grieving and learning how to grieve and sharing with others, reading, writing, blogging, and just trying to get through the days without her, I feel like my definitions are changing again. So, what does it mean to have a “good day” when I’m grieving? Well, it feels like a good day when I don’t try to ignore the pain and actually allow myself to grieve, to just cry like a baby until it stops and I can breathe again. I seems good when I can cry out, “I can’t do this, please help me!” because there is a Helper there. And it seems like a bad day when I can go through it without falling apart, and get stuff done, and yet not think about her, and feel “distant” and full of myself and lost by the end of it.

What does all this mean, then?

Well, a lot of my prayers in the last few months before she died were, “Help us to depend on You, to lean on You and not on our own strength.” So, that’s part of it. “When I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:10)
And grieving is good, it is “natural”, and a part of the plan; yes, a part of the NECESSITY in this time. “Jesus wept.” (John 11:35) I am following Him in this.
“Therefore let him that thinks he stands take heed lest he fall.” (I Corinthians 10:12) Pride and SELF-confidence are deadly.
“We must pass through many tribulations to enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Acts 14:22) It’s not optional.
And I think most importantly (for me): it’s a good day when I can “bounce back” from a fall and not spend the rest of the day (or the week) wallowing in my stuff. “Come let us reason together, says the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow.” (Isaiah 1:18) “In repentance and rest is your salvation; in quietness and trust is your strength.” (Isaiah 30:15)

So, there you have it. But, I’m not “there” yet (and I for sure need to listen to Jeremy still). I have more words to the new song, “Jesus Wept”, but it’s not complete yet. There is more surrender still, more “digging deep” to do. Bouncing back doesn’t quite come easily yet, and there are more depths of His love to uncover in doing so.

Amen, so be it.

Becoming as a Child

Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.
Matthew 19:3 (NASB)

Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all.
Luke 18:17 (NASB)

Let the children alone, and do not hinder them from coming to Me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.
Matthew 19:14 (NASB)

There’s something really counter-intuitive to these things that Jesus said. All our lives we are told to “grow up”, to “mature”, to learn, achieve, and get smarter. And yet, that’s not exactly how Jesus describes it. He seems to be saying there’s almost a retrograde motion needed, to go from being so smart and knowledgeable to being a child. And even Peter says “… like newborn babies …” (I Peter 2:2)

And I saw that in my wife in the days and months before she died. She often quoted Matthew 19:3 about her grandmother who died at the ripe young age of 104 (on her birthday!), and said how she saw this happening with her so that she could enter the kingdom of heaven. And, sure enough, I saw it in Beth too to prepare her.

Some people countered with, “well, she had whole brain radiation and chemotherapy, so you were just seeing the side-effects on her brain.” Which was true to some extent. She was aware of it — she often commented on her “chemo-brain” and how thinking was more difficult and “fuzzier”. Which, if you think about it, is quite interesting self-awareness…. But, I know what happened was more than that — it was a heart change that the Holy Spirit was doing. And here’s why I think that:

Her voracious appetite for the Word of God. There was not a day went by (and if it did, she made it up the next day) that she didn’t listen to Dr. J. Vernon McGee (“Through the Bible”) on her iPod.
Practically every morning she would sit in the chair in my office, with her Bible open and her coffee at hand. She was so content just to be with me, even though I was working away, but reading the Word, and I know praying (a lot for me …).
We went on a long road-trip the whole month of July 2018 (so 2-3 months before she died). Often during the 5,000 miles of driving she would just “be there” with me, without having to say anything, or even have music playing. When I asked her what she was thinking she would say, “Oh nothing, just looking.” Which was really different — she always had to have music playing, and she was a “doer” and a “planner”.
She gravitated to the children, and they to her. Always. At church she would find the children and end up being with them first. Her grandchildren were always on her mind. There are still a bazillion cards done by the children at church still up on the wall and all around the kitchen, written to her; prayers, “Get Well”, “God loves you” and more.
There was a contentedness about her in the last few weeks that I had never seen. I mean, going from hiking in the mountains to completely paralyzed from the waist down in the space of 3 weeks, and not a single complaint!! How is that even possible??
Other people saw it too. One of the elders of our church in San Jose noticed the change. A peace and contentment was there in her eyes, he said, which had not been there before.

So, how does all that translate to “becoming as a child”? I think of Psalm 131, which sums up a lot of the aspects of it:

O Lord, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty;
Nor do I involve myself in great matters,
Or in things too difficult for me.
I have composed and quieted my soul;
Like a weaned child rests against his mother,
My soul is like a weaned child within me.
Psalm 131:1-2

And one of the messages I heard fairly recently was about “wonder”. To me that is a key element in this whole equation. Do I have this sense of awe and wonder when it comes to God, my Father? To think that the Creator of time, space, the stars, planets, trees, fish, cats, grass, bacteria, and me actually wants to know me and me to know Him, should be a WONDERFUL thought! But does it provoke that reaction in me??

I glimpsed these things in my wife. A few hours before she died she sang for us “All the Way My Savior Leads Me” and I heard her voice catch at the words, “Perfect rest to me is promised in my Father’s house above”. She was almost there; I know she caught a glimpse. And pretty much her last words to me were, “I’m tired, I need to rest.” And getting her there provoked the last seizure that took her. Or rather, He took her, through the last seizure.

I see in me a huge tendency to pride, to religion, to a set of “do”s and “don’t”s, to theological arguments and parsing Greek tenses and … But, “wonder” or “composing and quieting my soul”, not so much. But I want it. If God is anything as WONDERFUL as He says He is, then I really ought to become like a child and rest against Him, and wonder at Him; to rest and wonder at a God who lives in a high and holy place, and who stoops down to regard the humble and contrite of spirit; to marvel at and adore a Father who would sacrifice His only Son to save His enemy, a wretch like me.

Oh that I could also become more like a child to enter the kingdom of heaven!

Grieving

My wife died on September 28, 2018. There was nothing special about that date, there was no reason for it to be THAT day, except that God had somehow planned her life to that end; had numbered her days and arranged everything for her to come home that particular day, just after 11:00pm, with only me and our cat Mercy with her.

We had known for some time that it was probably going to happen soon. The MRI in March had shown “more than” 30 tumors in her brain, metastasized from the triple-negative breast cancer that we thought we’d gotten, but which is notoriously easy to treat and yet at the same time spreads even more easily, until there is way more than we humans know how to deal with.

It happened very quickly. We hiked at Crater Lake the weekend of Labor Day (September 1st). And then again on Monday, we drove 30 miles up into the mountains and hiked to a waterfall (or I did — she only did about 1.5 miles round trip, and didn’t quite make it to the falls). By the 14th she was in a wheelchair, unable to really walk and by Saturday the 22nd when the grandkids came she needed a catheter because there was no bladder control anymore. Then on Friday night she had another series of seizures (at least two, maybe more) and then she breathed her last and was gone.

That first week I don’t know how I managed. Two of her sisters and their families, another remarkable woman, who was like a daughter to us and her son and fiancee, all came the week she died. Two of the elders from our church in San Jose came 500 miles with their families for her final day with us, along with several others the next day. They sang and prayed with us, talked until late, brought food, did laundry, cleaned up, everything they could. One slept over on Saturday night, just so I wouldn’t be alone. But every step I took that next week seemed to be walking through quicksand, my heart with such a huge empty place, seemingly pushed back at every step by an almost crushing weight of grief. And yet, somehow (it had to be the prayers of 100s of people) I packed up my truck and trailer and drove the 500 miles back to San Jose, organized and was part of her Memorial Service on October 9th, and managed to spend time with many people, with family, to play music, to read, even do laundry, attend church, and take care of business.

But the first week, no two weeks, at least, back in the empty house in Oregon were the hardest. I had to work… from home… alone, after 20 of the best years of my life with my wife. And (try to) sleep. And keep the house, and feed the fish and the cat, and tend to the laundry, and get food into me. My frequent prayer was “Lord, I don’t know how to do this. Help me not to quit too soon, help me to grieve like I should, I don’t know how I’m going to make it.” I told her a couple of days before she was gone that it took 4 of us to do the work she did. The next day I revised it to 6 of us. She was amazing! I wrote a comment on LinkedIn today that she was way more than ½ of our relationship. She did SO much more than I did to support us as a family than I did with a good, high-tech job, pulling in a 6 figure income. And she still is. She taught me how to cook, how to clean, how to fold my t-shirts correctly, how to love and give and have hope and faith, when all I could see was looming disaster. It wasn’t just her, I know that. God was behind it all, and so was His church, praying and pulling and counseling and singing, and a lot more. When I came back home, I came back with two coolers of food; the sisters had cooked and baked and packaged and frozen so much food that I’m still eating it in January. But she was the face of Jesus in my life, mostly; the living, breathing one I could see and touch and kiss and talk to and pray with and sing with, and live life with. And then she wasn’t.

And I’m still grieving. A lot. I think I cried harder than ever a couple of days ago. I finally got up the nerve (out of necessity) to balance the checkbook that had gone undone since before she died. She always wrote the checks and kept it up-to-date. As I faced pages and pages of her handwriting, thinking of the countless hours she labored at that, for me, for us…. And I still can’t quite put back up the pictures of her that I took down from the walls and shelves to take to the memorial service; I’ll cry for days, probably.

But I’m busy now. I can’t even list all the stuff I’m doing these days. The other morning I tried making a list of just the stuff I’d done before noon, and it filled up a whole page of paper, and I think I forgot some of it before I could write it down. The busy-ness helps. Some. Sometimes. One thing I felt the Lord impressed on me in the first couple of weeks was from I Corinthians 7:35 “serving the Lord without distraction”. I think, I hope, some/most/all of what I’m doing is that. Likely I’ve erred in some ways. But if I am doing that, then I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. But I am also “supposed to be” grieving. Hey, I AM grieving. I miss her really bad! So part of my “doing” is weeping with Jesus. Jesus wept. I know there’s a song there, if I can just get deep enough to hear it. And Anna, a prophetess, as recorded in Luke 2:37, served the Lord night and day in the temple with fasting and prayer. I want to do that too. I’m very much less successful at that than some of the other things so far. Hopefully I’ll grow.

But grief HURTS! And it doesn’t just “go away” and time doesn’t always heal everything. I think tears heal. I think they start to fill in the huge empty place where she used to be, so that it doesn’t feel so big and empty. Maybe this is the bottle God has that He is filling with my tears.

Anyway, I need to sleep. The 4 necessities of life during grief: D = drink, E = eat, E = exercise, R = rest. Oh dear. Can’t even do that right without His help. And it’s “only” been 3 ½ months… When will I feel “normal” again? What is “normal”? When will I laugh again? I have already. When will I love again? I think I do already, in some ways more than ever. Now more than ever I NEED to love; I need to live, for Him. So I will see Him. And then I will see her again too. And then the grieving will be over.

Thinking About Forests Today

I was thinking about activity and forests today. The Bible says that God gives perfect peace to those whose mind is stayed on Him. I was thinking about forests in connection with that peace, because to me forests are almost like the perfect, earthly embodiment of peace. Unless, of course, you’re there in a wind / lightning storm. But I’m talking about walking through a lush forest with tall trees above you, the ferns beside and below you, flowers and shrubs dotted here and there, or maybe wide stands of lush blossoms, peeking through the tall trunks, small rustlings of forest creatures at times, and the call of birds from somewhere high overhead. And yet, if you think about the biology of a forest, and even more so, the microbiology and chemistry of the living things in the forest, there is a TON of activity going on there. There are furious chemical factories breaking down and reassembling proteins and huge molecules out of simple sugars and water and minerals. Cells grow, divide, change, die, move. Buds and branches, twigs and leaves, fruit and seeds sprout out, grow and mature. There are bacteria, fungi, and microbes of every description multiplying, dividing, moving, and working in every little nook and cranny. Plants and trees are moving huge volumes of water, minerals and nutrients from the soil, extracting them and moving them upward and outward to every leaf and tiny twig. Then there are the animals, from the worms and decomposers and bugs, insects, rodents, snakes, squirrels, foxes, raccoons, coyotes, birds, hawks, and on and on. Most are silent, some make those rustling noises, some are more vocal, but all busy (even if they are just watching, waiting, biding their time).

So, what’s my point? I started wondering about God’s peace in the midst of a flurry of activity, of TODO lists, and multi-tasking, of appointments and meetings and shopping and chores and … and … and wondering, “Am I abiding in God’s peace in all this?” or am I deceiving myself and just frantically doing my own will, trying to find peace and satisfaction in the multitude of my doings?

I’m not sure I know for sure (yet). But reflecting on the forest helped me, because I think I/we often have a confused picture of what “peace” really is. Peace is not the same as tranquility. Jesus was at peace with His Father always. And yet there was often furious activity around Him. He was likely often working quite actively in His carpentry shop. The press of ministry to thousands and multitudes around Him. Not to mention the Roman soldiers mocking, spitting, beating, torturing Him. And yet He had peace in all of that.

And the forest has peace as well. Every piece of that vast puzzle is in its right place; each living thing is doing what it was designed to do; responding to the innate Will of its Creator, given from the beginning. Even though marred by our sin, subject to decay and futility, yet God’s purposes remain and are being carried out, day by day.

So, what about MY life? Am I in that perfect peace of the forest, of Jesus, of being in my Father’s Will? I can’t judge by my level of activity (or not). I can’t judge by the thoughts going through my head, as I whirl around through my responsibilities. I can only judge by that still, small voice, nudging me this way and that way, guiding me, IF I’ll pay attention, into the perfect path of His Will. I can’t even judge by “success” or “failure”, because often my greatest failure will (finally) form a new piece of Jesus’ character in my flawed and broken heart, as I get up and return to Him, with fervent pleas for forgiveness and restoration.

And, so, finally, it has to be my earnest plea, and my honest and deepest faith, that only God can judge, that only He can do that work in me, that only His very life within me results in that perfect peace, because only He is the Prince of Peace.

Scriptures:

Romans 5:1 Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ:
Isaiah 26:3 Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.
Ephesians 2:14 For he is our peace, who hath made both one, and hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us;
Isaiah 9:6 For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.