Refreshing

For those of you who might be wondering, I am still kicking and breathing. I just haven't had much to say lately. At least, nothing that would be of any worth to this blog. I've been kind of taking a break from all things blog related. I haven't even been reading the blogs that I usually follow. (And the laundry pile has been mysteriously less imposing during these past weeks. Connection? Hmmm...)

But two of you, my dear readers, have contacted me today to make sure that I am alright. Neither one of you may have realized it, but you were responding to the prompting of the Holy Spirit.

If only one of you had reached out, I wouldn't be so sure, but after weeks of silence, to receive two messages of care and comfort on the same day is too striking to be a mere coincidence.

I am refreshed, and encouraged, and I might even get passionate enough to post something in the next week. I'm teaching Ruth Session Six on Wednesday, so I'm a bit busy with that for the time being.

Anyway, if you have been thinking of a friend, or have had someone on your heart lately, reach out and touch...

The Holy Spirit might be prompting you to minister to a sister in Christ.

Big Britches

I have been thinking about my tendency to get "too big for my britches." It's kind of a funny thing, because I work so hard at staying humble and restraining my natural feelings of pride and self-righteousness. I'm not a total failure at doing it, but it appears that for me at least, this is a life long struggle.

Lately I have been thinking about Peter, and his triple denial of Christ. It strikes me that Peter and I might have a few things in common. I'm obviously not the rock upon which Christ has built the church, but personality-wise, me and Peter might be formed alike.

He had a tendency to get too big for his britches too. To put it in gentler terms, he sometimes made grandiose claims in the heat of the moment that he couldn't follow through with later on.

In Luke 22:33, Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, I am ready to go with You, both to prison and to death."

Less than 24 hours later, Peter did just the opposite.

Luke 22: 55-60

"Now when they had kindled a fire in the midst of the courtyard and sat down together, Peter sat among them. And a certain servant girl, seeing him as he sat by the fire, looked intently at him and said, "This man was also with Him."

But he denied Him, saying, "Woman, I do not know Him."

And after a little while another saw him and said, "You also are of them."

But Peter said, "Man, I am not!"

Then after about an hour had passed, another confidently affirmed, saying, "Surely this fellow also was with Him, for he is a Galilean."

But Peter said, "Man, I do not know what you are saying!"

The thing is, I have no doubt that when Peter claimed that he would follow Jesus to prison or death, he absolutely meant it. He wasn't saying something that he didn't believe in his heart at that moment. I've done the same thing.

"Lord, I will always be this passionate for Your glory!"

"Lord, I will always seek Your face before anything else in the world!"

"Lord, I will never be distracted from loving and serving You above all else!"

But of course, when life takes an unexpected or disappointing turn, the reality becomes much less glamorous than my momentary exuberance could possibly have expected. And like Peter, I fail to do what I so earnestly claimed I would.

You see, Peter got quite a shock when Jesus was hauled off by that band of thugs in the Garden of Gethsemane. Peter, and all of the disciples, had the wrong idea about Jesus's kingdom and His victory. They were still expecting a great military hero who would overthrow the earthly enemies of Israel and reestablish her as a mighty, victorious nation. Despite the fact that Jesus told the disciples many times that he was going to suffer and die, they just didn't get it.

So when Jesus was in the custody of the high priest, you can imagine that Peter's expectations of going to prison and death with Jesus were turning out a little differently than he thought they would. Maybe Peter thought that he would die in a glorious civil uprising, fighting alongside his Master. Or that they would be thrown into prison together and somehow defy the odds and still emerge as the victors.

But little did Peter imagine, in all of the scenarios he could conjure up, that Jesus was going to blindfolded and beaten, mocked, scorned and spit upon, by the very men Peter imagined that Jesus was going to defeat.

And in the disappointment of this reality, Peter failed. He denied the very One whom he had so passionately claimed he would never deny.

But, you see, there is more to the story than just Peter's failure. Jesus knew ahead of time that Peter was making claims that he wasn't going to fulfill. He saw ahead to Peter's denial of him, and He even told Peter that it was going to happen.

Luke 22:34

"Then He said, I tell you, Peter, the rooster shall not crow this day before you will deny three times that you know me."

And even more than foreseeing the event, Jesus comforted Peter before the denial had even taken place.

Luke 22:31

"And the Lord said, "Simon, Simon! Indeed Satan has asked for you, that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, that your faith should not fail; and when you have returned to Me, strengthen your brethren." (emphasis mine)

Look at what Jesus says. He has prayed for Peter, and when, not if, but when Peter returns to Him, He will be equipped to strengthen his brethren.

Do you suppose that a man of big-britches claims is very encouraging to a struggling, distraught brethren? I don't tend to think so. I can only imagine that if I were always in a state of big-britches boasting, I wouldn't be very encouraging to my fellow brethren at all. It would be hard to relate to a sister in Christ who is experiencing the real disappointments and pain of life, if I always lived in the place of sheer happiness in the Lord.

You should know, I don't. I go through peaks and valleys in my walk with God. Once, I spent over a year on the mountain top. It was the best year of my life. But I'm afraid that all that high-mountain living brought our some pretty big britches claims from me. I kind of thought that I would always be 'high.' That it was the natural result of my faithfulness and dedication in seeking God.

But in reality, life threw a disappointment at me. Things didn't go as I imagined they would. Like Peter, my expectations of fighting for the Lord turned out differently than I thought. And before long, I ended up in a valley, in a place of denying the very claims I had so boldly made.

God knew I was going to do that. When I was making my big claims, He already knew I was going to fail. But that's OK. He knew I needed some humbling, some ability to relate, some equipping in order to strengthen my brethren. It was for my own good, and hopefully for the good of those around me as well.

I really want to get back to that place of 'highness' with God. There really is nothing better in all of life. If you have ever been there you know what I am talking about. Nothing, nothing, nothing even begins to compare to the delight of that 'place.'

But perhaps I will cherish it all the more next time, knowing that it is a gift not meant to be permanently sustained in this life.

Even Paul, who was temporarily caught up into the ecstasy of Heaven, was given a thorn in his flesh immediately afterward. Maybe a person who is very naturally humble can handle the headiness of God's fullness without getting too big for his or her britches. But I am not that person.

For me, I suspect it must come and go.

It has been 'going' lately. But I am not discouraged. Because I know that Jesus is praying for me, just as He does for all the saints, and the Holy Spirit is making intercessions for me that I cannot even comprehend to ask for myself, since I don't know how to pray as I ought.

And because of those things, my faith will not fail.

The Consolation of Israel

In Luke chapter 2, Jesus is called by what I think is one of His most tender names: the Consolation of Israel.

Luke 2:25

"And behold, there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon, and this man was just and devout, waiting for the Consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him."

The Messiah that the Jews long expected was often referred to as the The Consolation of Israel, or simply as the Consolation. Which I find fascinating, because it seems that the nature of the consolation they expected to receive was completely off the mark. You see, the Jews were expecting a great military leader, a man like the mighty warrior-king David, to come and avenge them of their enemies and destroy the Roman rulers of their day. What they got instead was Jesus, a man who willingly died a humiliating death on the cross, beaten, betrayed, mocked and scorned, spit upon and crucified.

It doesn't seem to make sense. How was a willing death on the cross supposed to console anyone?

The problem is not that Jesus failed to live up to the Jewish expectations of the Messiah. The problem was that the Jews were expecting the wrong kind of consolation.

Jesus death on the cross and His subsequent resurrection from the grave do indeed provide powerful consolation, to the proper kind of mourning. The kind that I am thinking of, and the kind that Jesus was utterly effective at providing comfort for, is the mourning that we must do over our seperation and alienation from God. And that alienation from God is caused by our sin; our great, inescapable, with-us-from-birth, sinfulness.

I've sort of written about this topic before, but I'm pretty sure it's an old enough post that most of you have never read it. There is an excellent example of the kind of mourning I am referring to in the book of Nehemiah. In Nehemiah's day, the Jews have just recently returned from an exile in Babylon. Because the temple was destroyed when they were taken into captivity, they have not been participating in regular worship services. There is a specific scene in which the people gather together and the Book of the Law of Moses (God's Word) is read out loud to them.

An amazing thing happens. In Nehemiah 8:9, we are told, "all the people wept, when they heard the words of the Law." You see, when they heard God's perfect law read out loud, they were peirced with the reality of their great sin. When they were confronted by what God required of them, they saw their great "missing of the mark." And it affected them so deeply that they wept. They wept so dramatically in fact, that the priests had to tell them, "This day is holy to the LORD your God; do not mourn nor weep." (Nehemiah 8:9) And again in verse 10, "Go your way, eat the fat, drink the sweet, and send portions to those for whom nothing is prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord, Do not sorrow, for the joy of the LORD is your strength." (emphasis mine)

That is exactly the kind of mourning for which Jesus is the Consolation. Because He died on the cross, bearing our sins in His flesh, we are comforted. Because He rose again from the dead, defeating the sting of death, we are comforted. Because He reconciled us to a holy and perfect God, whose very presence we could not enter without the atoning work which Jesus completed on the cross, we are comforted.

To be sure, there are many other ways in which Jesus is the consolation of us, His people, in our day to day lives. But it is the work that Jesus did on the cross, the work which reconciles us, who are desperate sinners, to a God who is holy beyond our wildest imaginations, which is the greatest consolation of all. Jesus is The Consolation of Isreal, the comforter of those who mourn.

Isaiah 40:1-2

"'Comfort, yes, comfort My people!'
Says your God.
'Speak comfort to Jerusalem, and cry out to her,
That her warfare is ended,
That her iniquity is pardoned;'"

But Rejoice?

1 Peter 4:12-13

"Beloved, do not think it strange concerning this fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you, but rejoice that you partake of Christ's sufferings, that when His glory is revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding joy." (Italics mine)

I've been thinking about the problem of pain lately. Maybe it would be more correct to say the confusion of pain, rather than the problem of it. It seems that every few weeks or so, I am made aware of something that is simply devastating.

Inevitably, when these stories of suffering are related, there is some confusion involved. "Why is this happening?" "What have I done to deserve this?" "Why didn't God answer my fervent prayers in this matter?" "What could I have done to keep this from happening?"

Honestly, I think that this great confusion over pain is a relatively modern phenomenon. We happen to live in a day and age where we are often insulated from the brutal realities of life. I'm thinking mostly of modern Americans, but anyone who lives in a developed part of the world probably qualifies here. We have enough to eat, we live in safe and comfortable structures, we have access to medicine which treats a wide variety of common ailments. Most of our babies survive to adulthood. Most of us expect to reach a ripe old age, after living a healthy and fruitful life.

But even with all of the comforts of our modern society, there are disasters and problems that no technology can prevent. Children are killed in accidents, or born with physical and mental problems. Some children are never born at all. Young people die suddenly or are swept away by incurable diseases before their time. Parents die. Husbands die. People are paralyzed or disfigured. It happens every day to people all around us.

But somehow we have managed to make those things rare enough that they still shock and confuse us. I suspect that in many generations past, difficulty of life was the norm. It didn't confuse people like it does today.

And to compound our confusion, there seems to be a great deal of misinformation in the Christian community about how to deal with suffering and tragedy. I don't know where the idea originated, or when it first began to take root, but we seem to have convinced ourselves that Christians are supposed to be happy and joyful all the time, no matter what is happening to them.

Huh?

If that is true, then why is the Bible full of great men and women of God who poured out pain and anguish and despair and even anger in the pages of Scripture? Has anyone read Psalms lately? David had some very unhappy things to say to God. Off the top of my head I can think of complaints/pain/despair/anger being poured out by: Moses, Elijah, David, Hezekiah, Jeremiah, Hannah and Ezekiel. They weren't walking around with some strange idea that if you knew God your whole life should be a rosy picture show. They lived in reality. And so do we.

I did a little experiment, because I was curious. I tried to look up every time the word "rejoice" occurred in the New Testament. (You should not consider this an exhaustive commentary on rejoicing, this is just a casual observation.) Because I thought, surely there must be some really strong verses that give us reason to think we are supposed to be happy all the time.

In the New King James Version of the New Testament, the word "rejoice" occurs in 42 verses. And in almost every one of them, this rejoicing has to do with rejoicing because of who we are in Christ or what awaits us in the end. The verse at the top of this post is a great example. Peter specifically says, don't be surprised when terrible things happen to you, yes, rejoice that you are able to share in the suffering of Christ, and when His glory is fully revealed, then you will be filled with exceeding joy.

He doesn't tell them to walk around with a serene smile and pretend like nothing bad is happening to them. That would just be weird. Instead, they should remember that there is joy to come, and rejoice in what is to come. No matter what happens in this life, fiery trials and all, then end is decided. And the end is full of exceeding joy. Take comfort in that, rejoice in that!

Please don't divorce yourself from the ability to "weep with those who weep." And never, never accuse someone of not being a "good Christian" because they experience a normal range of human emotion. God created us to feel things, and He knows when we do feel them. We aren't supposed to suppress our natural reactions to disaster and think that this somehow makes us Christ-like. Jesus wept! More than once! Isaiah calls Jesus "a man of sorrow and acquainted with grief!" Hebrews 5:15 tells us that Christ can "sympathize with our weaknesses." He knows. He understands. And He wants us to bring it to him in all of its fullness. That is the only way it can be healed. A doctor can't prescribe a cure for the patient who refuses to come to him. (I'm not suggesting that we are supposed to stay in our deep grief or despair. But why do some people think we can't even experience grief and despair at all?)

I could go on and on about our cultural failings when it comes to grieving. We don't even wear black anymore when someone close to us has died. But lets not make the mistake of applying our culture's mistakes to the church body. Let's give each other room to feel pain, because life is just painful sometimes.

The Children in the City

If you have been reading my most recent posts, you will know that I have found myself in a time of intense healing and freedom from past sins. And since I'm going to be talking about that same subject yet again, I thought I might need to clarify some things, particularly for those of you who know me personally.

You might be tempted to let you imagination run wild and begin speculating about all of the horrendous things that must be lurking in my past. Don't do that. You'd be terribly disappointed anyway. Not that my sins, and the specific sins I have been dealing with, aren't terrible enough. But, the average run of the mill sinner has enough darkness in their heart, and enough bondage and slavery to sin, to scandalize all of us.

The thing is, I spent many, many years quite aware of my sin, but unwilling to treat it as harshly as it deserved to be treated. I took it lightly. I saw it through the lenses of our culture, which is exceedingly tolerant and encouraging of sin. I made excuses. I rationalized. Most of the time, I just plain ol' didn't think about my sin very much.

But when I began to, I was broken hearted. I saw and felt my sinfulness so clearly, it mourned me. It caused me deep grief. In the sermon on the mount, Jesus says, "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." What I experienced is exactly the kind of mourning that Jesus was referring to. Mourning over the wretchedness of personal sin. The comforting is what comes after you have mourned properly.

So this is what brought me to tears yesterday. The comforting that God gives to us is so abundant, so full and consumingly rich, that we don't really believe it can happen until we've experienced it. We sort of think that, yeah, God can take away our sins, and forgive us of our sins, and then we can look forward to Heaven where we won't suffer from our sins anymore. What I have personally discovered is that God can not only forgive, and take away, and heal, but He can also make us completely whole again in spite of our sin. Praise the LORD. He can literally change us and make us a new creation. It happened to me. It has happened to me. It has really happened to me.

So, in Isaiah 49, in verses 15-21, there is a long description of the way that God is going to restore Israel after she has been devastated because of her sins. You have to read the following verses with a few things in mind to even begin to get a sense of the joy I have experienced. Just so you know, I read every commentary I could find to see if my personal application was somehow universally recognized. It's not, and you should know that. I'm not trying to press any kind of theological point here. I am just trying to express to you the way that these verses spoke to my heart and overwhelmed me with joy.

What you will read is an account of a city that has been devastated by destroyers and "swallowers up." If those two words aren't poetic descriptions of sin, I don't know what are. The children in this devastated city have all been taken away. Think of that as the real, practical consequences of sin. The LORD is then going to reestablish this destroyed city (me!) and fill it with so many children (abundant blessings) that the city is confused and stunned by the amount of children found within its walls.

All of a sudden, the city is so full of children that there isn't even enough room for all of them. That is exactly how I feel. I look around sometimes and think, where did all of this come from LORD? I was such a sinner, I offended you in so many ways. I did every wrong thing in the book. How is it that You could ever bless me like this?

OK, are you ready to read it now? Are you ready to try and understand what got me all worked up (in a good way) yesterday? It's kind of long, but worth the attention.

Isaiah 49: 15-21

"'Can a woman forget her nursing child,
And not have compassion on the son of her womb?
Surely they may forget,
Yet I will not forget you.
See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands;
Your walls are continually before Me.
Your sons shall make haste;
Your destroyers and those who laid you waste
Shall go away from you.
Lift up your eyes, look around and see;
All these gather together and come to you.
As I live,' says the LORD,
'You shall surely clothe yourself with them all as an ornament,
And bind them on you as a bride does.

For your waste and desolate places,
And the land of your destruction,
Will even now be too small for the inhabitants;
And those who swallowed you up will be far away.
The children you will have,
After you have lost the others,
Will say again in your ears,
'The place is too small for me;
Give me a place where I may dwell.'
Then you will say in your heart,
'Who has begotten these for me,
Since I have lost my children and am desolate,
A captive, and wandering to and fro?
And who has brought these up?
There I was, left alone;
But these, where were they?'"

I suppose I always believed abstractly that God could rebuild people, other people. You know, the ones that needed rebuilding. Not me.

When I finally opened my eyes and did an honest survey of the walls around my city, I saw the devastation. It was there all along. But somehow, I had been skipping around and having picnics in a bomb crater without even realizing it. That honest appraisal was the beginning of the rebuilding process. And it took a while, several years I would say. But one day I looked around again. And there were children stumbling over each other in my streets. Children I didn't deserve, but had anyway. And that, is bringing me to tears all over again.

Some Proverbial Wisdom

I've been reading through Proverbs lately. It really isn't well suited to a quick read through. Rather, I think Proverbs should be savored and taken apart slowly. But if I did that, I would never get through the whole thing, much less the whole Bible.

So here for your savory enjoyment are two small sections of Proverbs I want to explore. Not exhaustively, mind you. I wouldn't even begin to think I was qualified to do that. This is just MY little perspective.

Proverbs 25:20

"Like one who takes away a garment in cold weather,
And like vinegar on soda,
Is one who sings songs to a heavy heart."

This is something that we have all been guilty of. Even I have done it, and I know better from personal experience. What I am talking about is that incessant need we have to talk about the "silver lining" in whatever circumstance we or our friends face. You know what I mean. Those sentiments that begin with, "Well, at least....didn't happen." Let me give you a specific example.

When my first child was born, under emergency circumstances, and with some medical complications, people said all kinds of chipper things to me and my husband. I know that they were trying to make us "feel better."

The thing is, we were D-E-V-A-S-T-A-T-E-D. We were shocked and confused and angry and horrified. And it seemed like every which way I turned, some well meaning person was trying to put a smiley face on the situation. I just wanted permission to grieve and be confused. I just wanted a shoulder to cry on. Even those closest to me had a hard time letting me feel sad. Why is that? Why do we feel like it is our responsibility to make people cheer up?

Romans 12:15 says, "Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep."

Look at the words in Proverbs 25:20 again. When we try to sell someone a field of daisies as they are facing something really difficult, we are taking something away from them. We are stealing their coat when the weather is harsh and cold. Not only that, but we stand a pretty good chance of irritating them while we're at it. Kind of like vinegar makes baking soda get all crazy and fizzy. People in pain are not always rational. Its much better to express sincere sympathy, or if your relationship calls for it, just weep right along with them. Resist that urge to cheer them up.

Yes, as Christians we do not grieve as those who are without hope. (1 Thess 4:13) But we still grieve. And when we do, we need our friends to grieve right along with us. What we don't need is someone singing songs at us when we have a heavy heart.

OK, on to the second bit of wisdom.

Proverbs 19:11

"The discretion of a man makes him slow to anger,
And his glory is to overlook a transgression."

Somebody out there needs to be reminded of this. (OK, I need to be reminded too, but lets talk about all of you for a moment!) This proverb is not mean to be applied universally. There are certainly offenses that need to be dealt with. Those aren't the things this verse is talking about. I think this verse is referring to those minor things that really should be overlooked.

So you just remember that, first, you should be slow to get angry. And, second, if you do get mad, it is your GLORY to overlook the transgression. I think you'll appreciate some definitions of the word glory (tipharah.) According to Strong's, tipharah can mean ornament, beauty or majesty.

How about that? You can get prettier by overlooking an offense. Now that is a deal worth closing on every time.

El Shaddai (Updated)

This is a post that I have been thinking over for many weeks. I've finished reading through Psalm and I'm getting ready to dive into Proverbs. But I feel like I can't leave Psalm behind without sharing a few more thoughts.

Aside from being the name of my favorite song of all time (as sung by Amy Grant) El Shaddai comes in a close second as my favorite name of God. First place without question is El Roi, The God-Who-Sees.

I actually think that El Shaddai, which means The All-Sufficient-One, is an amazing companion to El Roi. There is so much in this world that is terribly hard to understand. So much suffering and pain and tragedy. Because God is El Roi, we know that He sees all of it, the good and the bad. But because He is El Shaddai, the All-Sufficient-One, we can run to Him for comfort when the difficulties of this world become overwhelming.

El Shaddai is also translated as Almighty God. Apparently there is some debate about which is the clearer translation, so I thought I'd let you know about both of them. I'm not scholarly enough to know which translation is more appropriate, but the one that I love is The All-Sufficient-One.

Here is a quote from The Names of God by Andrew Jukes:

"The thought expressed in the name "Shaddai"...describes power, but it is the power, not of violence, but of all-bountifulness. "Shaddai" primarily means "Breasted," being formed directly from the Hebrew word Shad, that is, "the breast," or more exactly, a "woman's breast."

Hold up! Are we talking about boobs here? Why yes, we are indeed, but only in the purest way possible.

If you are a mother, particularly one who has breast-fed an infant, and particularly if you were successful at it, you will get this connection instantly. Imagine the tiny squirming infant, wailing and helpless, unaware of anything besides the need to be soothed and filled with life-sustaining milk. That squalling, thrashing infant is you and me.

Now, imagine as the mother tenderly takes the infant in her arms, pulls him close to her skin and offers her heavily filled breast. A mother's breast milk is the perfect provider of everything that the infant needs. It lacks nothing, it is completely sufficient to meet every need of the infant-nutrition, liquid, warmth, tenderness, contact, and soothing.

Don't worry, I'm not going to suddenly diverge into a discussion of the divine female or anything. But you get my point. God is the provider of everything that we need. There is not one single thing in the entire universe that we need, which God is unable to supply, and supply abundantly.
You think of it, He can provide it when necessary.

I know a woman who loves to discuss the idea that God has very intentionally created us and our relationships with other people, to point back to Himself. I think this concept of El Shaddai as the All-Sufficient (breast) is a perfect example of this. The mother who provides for every need of her distressed infant helps us to understand the God who provides for every need of His distressed children.

Here is the first time we see the name El Shaddai in scripture, as it was revealed to Abram, in the same encounter in which God changes Abram's name to Abraham.

Genesis 17:1-2

"When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the LORD appeared to Abram and said to him, "I am El Shaddai; walk before Me and be blameless. And I will make My covenant between Me and you, and will multiply you exceedingly.""

Did you notice the part about "multiply you exceedingly?" I think that the "woman's breast" aspect of El Shaddai is reinforced by the way in which this name is first revealed to mankind.

Another passage of scripture where we see the name El Shaddai and the idea of "being multiplied" occurs in Genesis 28:3, when Isaac is sending his son Jacob to find a wife.

Genesis 28:3

"May El Shaddai bless you,
And make you fruitful and multiply you,
That you may be an assembly of peoples."

See what I mean?

You might be wondering what any of this naming of God in the book of Genesis possibly has to do with anything in the book of Psalm. I'm glad you asked, because I see El Shaddai all over Psalm 131, a very short Psalm, that has recently become one of my favorites.

Psalm 131

Simple Trust in the LORD
A Song of Ascents. Of David.

LORD, my heart is not haughty,
Nor my eyes lofty.
Neither do I concern myself with great matters,
Nor with things too profound for me.

Surely I have calmed and quieted my soul,
Like a weaned child with his mother;
Like a weaned child is my soul within me.

O Israel, hope in the LORD
From this time forth and forever.

It is the part about a weaned child with his mother that made the connection for me. Only after you have come to know God as El Shaddai, The All Sufficient One, will you have a calmed and quieted soul. Only after you have climbed up in the lap of Abba, Father, who is also characterized with motherly love and provision here in Psalm 131, will you have a soul like a weaned child.

A weaned child has passed the stage of infancy. He has taken what was given and it has not only become a part of his physical being, but has also caused him to grow and become strong and mature. That is exactly what I need when I have spent too much time thinking about all of the sin and darkness that El Roi has witnessed in this world. I need time of close contact and nurturing from El Shaddai. And then, only then, can I sit and be calmed and quieted.

I also don't think that understanding El Shaddai as the All-Sufficient-One takes anything away from the translation of Almighty God. Both translations encompass the power of God and His ability to provide and accomplish whatever He desires. But the idea of sufficiency ties in so well with the picture of the woman's breast, that I can't help but prefer that first definition.

***I meant to add this part yesterday but forgot:

There is another verse in Psalms that immediately makes me think of the woman's breast reference in El Shaddai.

Psalm 81:10

"I am the LORD your God,
Who brought you out of the land of Egypt;
Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it."

One of the commentaries I looked over talked about the image of a baby bird with its mouth agape waiting for its mother to drop food inside and satisfy its hunger. But, once again, if you have ever nursed a very young infant, another image may come to your mind like it did mine. I remember this reflex so clearly showing up when my oldest was in the hospital. Although she never did breastfeed, it wasn't for lack of the rooting reflex, where an infant turns her head to one side and opens that little mouth as wide as possible, trying to find a source of food-the mother's breast.

The context of Psalm 81, is that God is commanding Israel to turn away from all foreign gods, and worship Him, the only true God. He is warning them that no other idols or gods will be able to provide for them. Only the LORD can fill their waiting mouths. And He wants them to open those mouths WIDE so He can fill them.

I can look back at so many times in my own life when I felt like I did not have everything I needed. So many years of feeling as though my needs were not provided for. Now that I have a little bit of perspective, I have come to realize two things. First, most of my felt needs were not really needs at all. God did in fact provide for all of my needs, just not necessarily all of my wants. And second, in almost every single instance, I was not turning to God as a helpless child, totally dependent on Him, with a mouth wide open and waiting. I was doing exactly what God warns against in Psalm 81, I was chasing after useless idols.

Death Be Not Proud

John Donne's famous poem, Death Be Not Proud, expresses exactly what I have been thinking about all day. Because just as Christ rose from the grave, in a bodily resurrection, so will we all who have faith in Him.

"Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so"

Or how about the Corinthians 15:55?

"O death, where is your sting, O grave where is your victory?"

We spend a lot of time at Easter thinking about Christ's crucifixion and resurrection, and justifiably so. But I'm not sure I have ever heard an Easter sermon that elaborated on the fact that because Jesus rose again from the dead, we will as well. Imagine the comfort of that. Of knowing that your loved one, if he or she belonged to Christ, will rise up in a glorified body one day. Of realizing that even more than ascending to Heaven to be in the presence of God, there will be a time when each of God's children will be given a new incorruptible body that will never die.

1 Corinthians 15:13

"But if there is no resurrection of the dead, neither has Christ been raised."

Stated in the positive, what that verse means is if Christ was resurrected from the dead, than so will we all be resurrected from the dead.

1 Thessalonians 4:13-14

"But I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus."

Don't be confused by the word sleep in that verse, it is just a way of referring to death that was common among the people who lived at that time.

The point of this blog has never been to frighten people with the prospect of Hell, but I feel like today is an appropriate time to mention the reality of its existence. I'm like most of you. The idea of it makes me very uncomfortable. I feel a strong urge to cover up the stark reality of Hell. It just seems too naked to trot out in polite company sometimes. But you should know that the Bible is explicitly clear about its very real existence.

Matthew 25 talks about God separating the sheep (believers) from the goats (non-believers), and in verse 46, their respective fates are summed up this way.

"And these (the goats) shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into everlasting life."

The words in parenthesis are mine.

So as we wind up this Easter weekend, take heart, fellow Christian. Death has been defeated. It has lost its ability to terrorize and consume us. Again in the words of John Donne,

"One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more, death, thou shalt die."

I seriously couldn't have said it better myself.

It Shall Not Come Near You

Psalm 91:7

"A thousand may fall at your side,
And ten thousand at your right hand;
But it shall not come near you."

This verse immediately sprung to mind a few weeks ago while I was watching the movie Letters From Iwo Jima with my Dad. Normally, I avoid war movies like the plague, but I love my Dad, and I will usually watch whatever he is watching. I was visiting my parents with the kids, and he said it was a good movie, which it was, but much, much, much too gory and tragic for my usual taste.

There are a few scenes in which soldiers must run across open areas that are being riddled with bullets and explosives. Most of them never get to the other side, but are struck and killed as they attempt to make the crossing. Really, with all of those bullets flying around, it's almost impossible to imagine that any of them would make it across. The scenes were very similar to that scene at the beginning of the movie Saving Private Ryan. Again, a movie I did not particularly want to watch, but this time it was my husband who did.

Look at that verse at the beginning again, "it shall not come near you." What exactly is it that won't come near us? In verses 3-6 it is described this way:

"Surely He shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler
And from the perilous pestilence.
He shall cover you with His feathers,
And under His wings you shall take refuge;
His truth shall be your shield and buckler.
You shall not be afraid of the terror by night,
Nor of the arrow that flies by day,
Nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness,
Nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday."

According to those trusty footnotes in my Bible, this Psalm was probably written to describe the realities of life for a soldier at war, who would be in fear of literal arrows and pestilence that might sweep through the camp. But most of us are not in a literal, physical war. We are however, faced with a very real war every day of our lives. A spiritual war.

We are constantly surrounded by arrows and threats of destruction and pestilence. Some of the wars we deal with might seem quite harmless on the surface. That television show that glorifies adultery. That magazine that worships beauty. The music that romanticizes things we should view as evil and corrupt. There are also the threats that we know are dangerous, the kind of thing that catches us off guard and threatens our safety and well being. An unexpected attack of some kind, a loss of job, an illness, the threat of financial ruin. You get the idea.

All of those arrows carry the threat of danger to our spiritual well-being, and in some cases our physical well-being. They are very real.

I Peter 5:8

"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour."

But again, back to my original question. What does the scripture mean when it says that "it will not come near you?" This is just my opinion, but I think that scripture taken as a whole bears me out. It does NOT mean that bad things won't happen to you. I know there are people who believe that and even preach that. But, don't they live in the same world that I do? Don't they see very real tragedy and pain in the lives of people around them? Don't they read verses like James 1:2, "My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials,?" What about verses like 1 Peter 4:12, "Beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you;?"

So, I don't think that "it shall not come near you" means we will have a pain and trial-free life. But there are some things that it does mean. In the midst of our spiritual warfare, we are assured of very real help and comfort. God is described as a refuge and fortress in verses 2 and 9. We are told that He will be with us, deliver us and honor us in verse 15. In verse 11 we are told that He will give His angels charge over us, that these angels will keep us and bear us up. All of it is a very descriptive way of saying: We are not alone! God goes with us! He will take care of us! We do not need to be afraid!

The very best of all these victorious promises comes in the last verse, verse 16:

"With long life I will satisfy him,
And show him My salvation."

The greatest hope of all, eternal salvation. I believe that is ultimately what is meant when verse 7 says, "it shall not come near you." Eternal death and destruction will not come near us. It won't even get close.

So picture with me that battlefield full of flying bullets and bombs. In a sense, our lives are like a dash across that open field so full of peril. There are trials to endure, temptations to avoid, and even a roaring lion stalking about. (Interestingly, in verse 13, we are told that we will tread upon and trample underfoot the lion. How cool is that little tidbit?) But we can walk through it all with a head held high and a confident stride. We have no doubt about getting safely to the other side. We know that despite the dangers, it will not come near to us who have known the name of the LORD.

Even when the fighting is fierce, when the shrapnel is flying and bullets seem to be grazing our ears, we have the shield of God's truth. We know truth! We do not need to be vulnerable to lies about God, that He doesn't love us, that He won't take care of us, that He will let us slip away from Him in the heat of battle. No, the truth is that we are tucked up under the downy feathers of His all-powerful wing. (verse 4)

Psalm 91:2

"I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress;
My God, in Him I will trust.""

Broken In the Pit

Psalm 88:6-9

"You have laid me in the lowest pit,
In darkness, in the depths.
Your wrath lies heavy upon me,
And you have afflicted me with all your waves.
You have put away my acquaintances from me;
You have made me an abomination to them;
I am shut up, and I cannot get out;
My eye wastes away because of affliction."

There is a reason this passage in in the Bible. God knows about brokenness, He understands our despair and disappointment and anger. He knows what it feels like to be betrayed, even by those closest to Him, whom He loved and lived in close fellowship with.

In Isaiah 53, Jesus is described as "A Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." He is also called "despised and rejected by men." Why does this matter? And why am I writing about it today? Well, I have a friend of a friend who is going through a terrible time. Her entire life is crumbling before her eyes. People and things that she thought she could rely on have failed her, brutally and personally.

If I am not describing you and your situation right now, well, good, but I think all of us can use some reminding about these things from time to time. Whether we realize it or not, we are surrounded by hurting people. We see smiles every day of our lives that conceal pain and rage and despair. We are all so good at putting on a mask of ease and contentment, but the truth is that many of us are right in the kind of pit described in Psalm 88. The lowest pit, a pit of darkness, depths, and affliction.

And there is nothing in all of the world that can help besides God. People will always fail us. Science and technology, and counselors and friends--will all come up short in the end. Because they do not have any real power to comfort, no real power to heal and remake what is broken. They may provide some brief form of relief, but nothing lasting, nothing true. Only God has the power to heal us, to make us a new creation, to satisfy and deliver us from the pit.

I want you to read these scripture verses, and really dwell on them. They provide THE hope and THE cure. Nothing else will do it. Only God.

Isaiah 54:6-7

"For the LORD has called you
Like a woman forsaken and grieved in spirit,
Like a youthful wife when you were refused,"
Says your God.
"For a mere moment I have forsaken you,
But with great mercies I will gather you."

Its hard to imagine a more brutal rejection than the rejection of a husband. Just the thought of it makes me gasp inside with horror. But it happens, it happens all of the time. It has happened to so many women that I know. But even if a husband has rejected you, God can gather you back up again, and only He can do it with great mercies.

Isaiah 55:1-2

"Ho, Everyone who thirst,
Come to the waters;
And you who have no money,
Come, buy and eat.
Yes, come buy wine and milk
Without money and without price.

Why do you spend your money for what is not bread,
And your wages for what does not satisfy?
Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good
And let your soul delight itself in abundance."

These verses are so powerful. Did you see what they say? Stop wasting yourself and your energies on what does not provide life and satisfaction. We are all guilty of this sometimes--we chase after stale crusts of bread and brackish water. And we chase after them with all of our "money" and all of our "wages," everything that we think we have. But why? When God wants to fill us with rich things, good things, wine and milk, and all for free, for nothing.

Listen to how God's children are described:

Psalm 36:8-9

"They are abundantly satisfied with the fullness of Your house,
And You give them drink from the river of your pleasures.
For with you is the fountain of life;
In Your light we see light."

Abundant satisfaction, drink from a river of pleasures, life, light, all of these are in store for those who put their trust in the LORD.

So what does all of this have to do with being broken and in a pit? Well, for many people, the pit is where they first begin to search for God. This has largely been the case in my own life. Until I found myself in desperation, I did not think I really needed God all that much. I had managed to run my own life in a somewhat satisfying manner. But life has a way of turning out differently than we expect, of throwing a shock or a surprise at us that we don't welcome. And it often involves a great deal of personal pain. I don't want to minimize pain, I've had enough of it in this life to understand how powerful and crippling pain (or even the possibility of pain) can be. But in the midst of it, in the very worst of it, God cupped my chin in His magnificent hands and gently wiped every tear away. Not because I deserved it, but because He loved me.

He reminded my heart of the promise in Isaiah 43:

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
And through the rivers, they shall not overflow you.
When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned,
Nor shall the flame scorch you."

He doesn't promise to make the pain go away. Sometimes He might, but that is not what He promises. Instead He promises to be faithful to us, to never leave us, to never forsake us, to be with us always, to love us unconditionally.

Isaiah 54:10

"For the mountains shall depart
And the hills be removed,
But My kindness shall not depart from you,
Nor shall my covenant of peace be removed,
Says the LORD, who has mercy on you."

Every single thing in this life may fail or disappoint you, even the mountains and the hills are not trustworthy compared to God and His promises. He promises us kindness and peace. Don't miss that last line of the verse: the LORD who has mercy on you. I prefer the NIV translation: the LORD who has compassion for you. Compassion, real compassion, that comes from a man of sorrows, one who is acquainted with grief, one who has felt despised and rejected. That is a Man who can understand, that is a Man you can trust and hold on to.

Don't chase after things that aren't bread. Don't spend your money on things that can't satisfy. Eat what is good-let your soul delight in the richest of fare. Let the LORD gather you up with tender mercies, hold on to Him in the midst of the storm, call out to Him from the bottom of the pit.

I want to show you one more thing, one more passage of scripture, and then I'm going to end this post. I know its a really long one. But I hope it helps someone, someone who needs to hear these things at this exact moment.

If you are the one who is in the pit, the pit that I described at the top of the post, listen to this:

Psalm 40: 1-3

"I waited patiently for the LORD;
And He inclined to me,
And heard my cry.
He also brought me up out of a horrible pit,
Out of the miry clay
And set my feet upon a rock,
And established my steps,
He has put a new song in my mouth--
Praise to our God;
Many will see it and fear,
And will trust in the LORD."

Don't stay in the pit. Cry out to God. He will lift you up and set you on firm ground. In fact, He is the only one who can. What better choice do you have?

Psalm 23

Psalm 23:4

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me"

This is a good example of a verse that most Christians, and many non-Christians are very familiar with. Kind of like John 3:16. If someone said to you, "Yea, though I walk..." You could probably finish the rest of that sentence automatically.

I get several email devotionals, and one of them spent a whole week focusing on the 23 Psalm. So naturally, I spent some time thinking about the meaning of the words in Psalm 23. Specifically, I was intrigued by the idea of a "rod" and a "staff" bringing comfort. What does that really mean?

The analogy of a staff bringing comfort made immediate sense, I can easily picture the staff as a tool that guides sheep, directing them to safety, away from danger, and thus "comforting" them. But the rod struck me as an odd tool for bringing comfort. I have always associated the rod with discipline and rebuke, not with comfort. So I decided to look up the original Hebrew and see if I could shed some light on this all too familiar verse.

Here is what I discovered.

The Hebrew word for rod used here is shebet. It can mean several things including a stick, for punishing, writing, fighting, ruling, walking, etc... It can also figuratively mean a clan. This word shebet is used in Proverbs 13:24:

"Whoever spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him."

I found that very interesting. Is it the discipline of the LORD that David finds comforting? That puts a different twist on things, doesn't it?

Moving on to the word "staff", I found the original Hebrew word mishenah. It means support, or sustenance. That makes sense. The support of the LORD is comforting to David.

But what does the word "comfort" really mean? This, to me, was the most interesting find of all. It left me with a few more questions than answers.

Before I say any more, let me give you this disclaimer. I don't know anything about Bible translation. I don't know how the people who translated Psalms from Hebrew to English chose which meaning to assign to each word. But now that I have started looking into the original language, I find the topic fascinating. I'll have to find someone who knows something about it and pick his or her brain.

OK, that being said, let me continue. The Hebrew word for comfort is nacham. Some of its meanings include to sigh, breathe strongly, by implication to be sorry, to pity, to console, avenge, comfort, repent. There is our word "comfort," way down there on the list of potential meanings.

But I found a lot of verses in the Old Testament that used the word nacham in a totally different way. Here is one of them:

Genesis 6:6

"And the LORD was sorry that he had made man of the earth, and it grieved him to his heart."

There the word nacham is used in one of it's more common translations "to be sorry" or "repent."

Wow, doesn't that idea mix things up for Psalm 23? Read the verse this way and see what you think:

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; Your discipline and your support, they cause me to repent.

I personally think that repenting and comfort work very well together. After all, God promises to forgive us when we repent and confess. That comforts me a great deal. Because no matter what I do, I know there will never be a time in this life when I will be without sin. It's just part of living in this present flesh.

And I know from experience that sometimes the most effective way to bring repentance is with a little application of discipline. In fact, I may go so far as to say that sometimes that is the only way to bring repentance. Read the book of Judges sometime. It is pitifully clear that the rod of discipline was the only way God could keep the wayward Israelites from committing all sorts of atrocities.

But, because God is merciful and gracious, He promises to always include the staff of His comfort in the mix. The perfect combination: discipline and support. Sounds a lot like a loving Father to me.

I don't think I will ever read the 23 Psalm quite the same way again.