the sad sage

i had the great privilege the other day to join my fiancé in an atypical conversation with a deist who i'm willing to bet has a very high IQ. before the server had even brought the bread and salad i was roped into the discussion the guys had going before we met up: the origin and potential end of the universe. umm, yeah. by the arrival of the steaks, we could add quarks, black holes, spirits, the apocalypse, the purpose of man, the exclusivity of Christianity vs hinduism, the crusades, scientific theory, the similarities and differences between the major world religions, and the weird tesseract-like layer of pure energy enveloping the sun that supposedly could power the world for like, a billion-jillion years. [and also whether or not nik copied my order because he realized my choice of steak was superior, or if he really had independently decided on the exact same meal. i hold the former, he the latter.]  because we weren't done with the discussion, we split a massively unhealthy dessert so we could finish talking…exactly where we began, but so full of food that i couldn't slouch and breathe at the same time.

 

and while it was a true privilege, i walked (or rather, waddled) out of the restaurant fighting off waves of frustration- and wonder, oddly enough. it's been a hot minute since i've met a person who not only believes in nothing that can't be explained a mathematical formula, but who also doesn't care at all. he gets the physical world. he thinks he has a grasp on the world religions. computer code? nailed it. steve jobs? stephen hawking? loves 'em. but for himself, life is a giant shrug. does he have purpose? eh, probs. *shrug*. is there something not strictly physical about a person? dunno. *shrug*.  what does he think about the possibility of eternity, and what that could mean for him? huh. guess i'll find out when i get there. *shrug*. he's content to focus on his career right now and worry about the afterlife later. he's got places to go and good things to do now.

 

a rising number of individuals from this generation have embraced this sort of thinking, though. take this friend's thought process, add some eastern-style clothing and a yoga mat, and you've got just enough religion to make these busy people feel safe without inconveniencing them with concepts like absolute Truth. i mean, if all these super-spiritual ideas come from old, dead, bald guys with single names- like, "confusious" and "ghandi" and "buddha," it must be wise enough to live by, right?  it all sounds 100% legit… until you process what you're being told.  

 

i've got a scratch-off poster of 100 really cool books to read ("cool" here applicable only for major nerds).  it includes everything from harry potter to the time machine to the origin of the species to the fireman to watership down. 

 

***bunny trail: harry potter- loved the series of wholesome, family-oriented characters with a wonderful moral compass, leaders worth following, and followers who know the value of friendship, loyalty, honesty and respect. time machine- amusing and fun. the origin of the species- darwin seems to think if he uses enough science words then most everyone would rather accept the theory than be bothered to suffer through more than a chapter or two. he's not wrong. the fireman- the absolute worst book to read during a global pandemic that kills people almost at random, causing most of society to shut down, about a global pandemic that kills people almost at random, causing most of society to shut down (the cool part being that instead of coughing, the victims of this pandemic spontaneously combust). watership down- bunnies galore. it's like a hug for the soul. read this one.***

 

with my library book app charged up, i began one that sounded fascinating- mahatma ghandi's "my experiments with truth"- his autobiography. i love hearing from leaders of other cultures and countries, especially ones who project wisdom, justice and some level of spirituality.

i was too far in to quit (and determined to complete the scratch off poster), but i wish i could have. it's depressing. for all his wisdom, justice and spirituality, after 300+ pages there is only one "truth" that ghandi was hardcore, dead-set, steadfastly sure of in this life. wanna know what it is? vegetarianism. i wish so bad i were lying.

 

is there a God? well, there's some kind of god/life force in all of us; this force has no name or specific characteristics, but it definitely/probably hears prayers and keeps me from temptation to eat meat or even drink milk.

which exclusive religion is true? eh, they're all true; i shall teach all my friends' kids to follow whatever god/life force they want, to be hard-working, and to not eat meat or even drink milk.

what "is" good or bad, or right or wrong? being mean to any living thing is bad and wrong; therefore i shall be good and right by never eating meat or milk. and also most grains. and spices. and eggs.  i shall eat bananas and walnuts all my days.

is there an afterlife? i sure hope so. even more days to eat bananas and walnuts.

 

this man who was so kind and respectful and honest to a fault never finds the truth he's looking for. he spouted words, phrases, ideas from the Bible and hindu teachings… but seemed to contradict both faiths; he wouldn't go for hinduism because he frankly didn't know anything about it, and he shied away from Christianity because it was boring. really. that was his reason. but since he was kind and respectful and honest and vegetarian, he has earned his place as a role model, leader, sage.

i feel it is worth actually saying that in many ways, he was indeed a role model, leader and sage. he gave his life to improving race relations, easing the suffering of the mistreated lower classes, feeding the hungry, educating the poor, giving them a voice in their country's government, practicing self-control in all things, and holding himself to very high moral standards. he was probably the first, and also last, truly honest lawyer who actually didn't lie to, for, or about any judge, witness or other lawyer. he promoted freedom of religion, openly (yet respectfully) spoke out against horribly unjust government practices, and led by example in all things.

 

but he never found truth.

he never reached the point of "satyagraha" (reliance on/pursuit of truth) where he felt he was pure enough. he prayed to "God," but was fully convinced that "there is no God but Truth." and he was still searching for it. his fasting hadn't helped. his impressive legal practices hadn't helped. his long list of excellent, kind, noble, peaceful, (vegetarian), generous, wise deeds… hadn't helped. 

 

what kills me, and what made me want to stop reading was when i saw just how close he was to the true Truth.  about 2/3 through his book, i read this:

 

"i hold today the opinion as i held then. to my mind the life of a lamb is no less precious than that of a human being. i should be unwilling to take the life of a lamb for the sake of the human body. i hold that, the more helpless a creature, the more entitled it is to protection by man from the cruelty of man. but he who has not qualified himself for such service is unable to afford to it any protection. i must go through more self-purification and sacrifice before i can hope to save these lambs from this unholy sacrifice. today i think i must die pining for this self-purification and sacrifice. it is my constant prayer that there may be born on earth some great spirit, man or woman, fired with divine pity, who will deliver us from this heinous sin, save the lives of the innocent creatures, and purify the temple."

 

and he did. ghandi died still pining for the Lamb who gave His life freely- it wasn’t taken- in order to not just purify the Temple, but to purify us and make US the new Temple. we have been delivered from every heinous sin, because God in His unfathomable, divine, "reckless" love caused to be born on earth that Holy Deliverer Jesus Christ. He didn't save innocent creatures, because innocent creatures have no need of saving. "Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom i am the foremost" (1 Timothy 1:15). we are sinners, whose even "tiniest" of sins is an affront to God's holiness and incompatible with His character. perfection simply cannot be with even a slight imperfection without becoming itself imperfect. no matter how much ghandi (or you, or i) fasts or how little he lies, or how much he donates to the poor, he will never be perfect and thus literally cannot be in the presence of a perfect God. only a perfect sacrifice can make that possible. and that sacrifice is Jesus.

 

ghandi's prayer had already been answered, and ghandi refused to believe it.

the absolute worst part is that ghandi has now spent 72 years of atoning for his lack of perfection- and he still has an eternity. he will never be perfect enough to save even a little lamb, much less himself or another human.

in the world's opinion, if there is a heaven, then ghandi is definitely there and probably has one of the biggest mansions of all.

however, one thing ghandi got (mostly) right was that God is Truth. and the truth is that those who are not delivered from their heinous sins by the Lamb must themselves pay the penalty, which is eternal separation from God.

that's where ghandi is right now- he's in hell. that's where all the self-sufficient "nice people" who did "good" things are- they are in hell.

that's where my newest acquaintance will go if he chooses to continue his current plan of walking into eternity with zero concern. he will go to hell.

 

i made it to the end of the book, at last.

and if you are reading this, you made it to the end of this post.

i learned quite a bit from ghandi, but i hope somehow i'm not the only one.  my prayer is that his life and message might compel someone to find what the sad sage never did. if it's my new friend, or you, or your friend- whoever it is who finds the Truth will be blessed indeed.

all the everybodies

tonight's lesson for the Cubbies was really only half a story.  i hate those, because 5 year olds don't take them very well. and even though the lesson was on an issue that applies to everyone, that issue is not a tangible one, and thus hard to wrap little minds around. 

so i had to include a little of the beginning and a little of the end- which worked, because it can be explained using the very same picture card.

totally went off script. 

but then again, i do that on a nearly weekly basis.

in essence, the lesson could be summed up as , "you're a sinner, and so am i," our key verse being Romans 3:23.  [for the parents reading this, yes, the Cubbies get extra hand stamps for every person they tell the lesson/verse to (and that tell one of us teachers).  we hauled in a tall person tonight so their little person could tell them last week's lesson.  the things we will do for a little ink dinosaur…]

the first picture card shows a politically correct vision of heaven, incorporating as many physical elements as possible, but centered on King Jesus on His throne, being worshipped by a number of white-robed people.  because even though it shows heaven, it's really where the story begins.

we were created to be in a perfect, eternal, amazing relationship with Jesus. that's exactly what mankind had at first.  i don't know if Jesus wore His crown every day, strolling through the Garden of Eden with Adam and Eve, but He very well may have.  all i know is that it was, indeed, perfect.

well, i also know that right now, it isn't.  i bet you 5 AwanaBucks that you can't easily find a person who genuinely believes that this world is what it should be like.  if any of the people you ask are of any religion, it won't take long for them to tell you the reason, either.

it's sin.

sin happened.  and it's still happening.  and will continue to happen until this world ends.

our verse, Romans 3:23, is our "A Verse," because it reads (on a Cubby level) as, "A stands for "All." all have sinned."  so we compared our picture of heaven to pictures that more closely resemble their daily lives: brothers not sharing, sisters pulling each other's hair and fighting, kids disobeying, having tantrums, etc.

"A" means "all."  "all" means "everybody."  it means all of the everybodies- past, present and future. (every human except Jesus).

"sin" is anything we think, say, or do that breaks God's law.  even when we try, that's a lot of things.  i sinned within an hour of waking up this (late) morning. all the Cubbies admitted they probably had, too.

all except Simeon. he was quite clear on this point.  he'll be applying for sainthood any day, now, i reckon.

and just as breaking our parents' rules had consequences, so does breaking God's rules. our sin means that there is simply no way for us to be with God, because of Who He is. it's as impossible as having a "chunk" of "darkness" hovering over a candle.  

by itself, it's a pretty cruddy story. it leaves us stuck in a broken, decaying planet, cut off from the very Source of Life, Truth and Light Himself and with no hope of reconciliation. the best our ancestors could do was burn some livestock. 

it's not like we do any better.  we just don't kill sheepies.  we go for the "cleaner" sacrifices, like "going to church," or "volunteering at the homeless shelter," or "praying to God/my ancestors/the Virgin Mary," and hope like crazy that these good deeds will tip the scales in our favor.

they won't.

neither will paying tithes, teaching Cubbies, reading the Bible, visiting the Holy Land, quitting smoking, shaking the Pope's hand, voting Republican, home schooling, starting a ministry, _________ <--- fill in the blank with anything you're doing to make God happy.  none of it will work. 

PTL it's not the end of the story.  there was a looooooong time of waiting, but from the first pronouncement of judgement came a promise: someday, a Savior would come.  and some day after that, every person who puts their faith in that Savior will be a part of that picture of heaven. that's a promise.  a good, good promise.

you just gotta believe it.

i'm only taking 1 class this half-semester (i know, right?!?) and it of course is "Evangelism and Missions." one of the books we are supposed to read (or have already read…) gives a wonderfully clear, simple way to present the Gospel and lead the listener to make a decision. i'd already thought of giving the Cubbies incentive to listen, and then actually share, what they'd learned about.  but that, and this class, have also convicted me- who am i sharing with?  i tell you, there's nothing more invigorating than telling the incredible, amazing, jaw-droppingly good news about Jesus to someone who's never heard it, or someone who's never heard it clearly.  i encourage you to give it a go.

who are you sharing with?  if you're not sharing the Gospel, what ARE you sharing that's more important? if you have a Cubby, feel free to use them as an excuse- let them tell your neighbor or friend or coworker the A Verse, and then jump in there and tell them the Good News!

and then let me know, so that your Cubby can get his hand stamp.

the big IF

i hate realizing new areas where i lack discipline, or screw up or disappoint.  i already know it's a long list, and i've even been told the list- not even kidding you.  one of those areas is prayer. to be brutally honest, i rarely enjoy it. maybe i'm doing it wrong, but even still, i must confess that 99.4% of the time it is a struggle and most days of the week it might be right on the top of things to fall off the to-do list. 

it took me an age, but i came to realize one of my major obstacles was that i simply couldn't tell any difference in my prayers.  i love our church's women's prayer group, hearing from the others what's going on in their lives, and taking turns praying for each other… but it's hard to say for the hundredth time that my prayer request is the same as the month before and that i can't see any change in my situation.  especially on those nights when several in the group are celebrating spiritual victories and obstacles overcome.  i've spent most of the past few years fighting just to keep up with daily life.  i know it can't really be true, but when i don't see any tangible evidence it's super hard to back up the claim that prayer is powerful. i was jealous of seeing other people's prayers answered and mine not. they would say they had the same struggles- but daggum, they made it look easy. yup; i was a little green-eyed monster who couldn't see why their "IFs" came true and mine grew stale. that tiny word "IF" that carries so much possibility and hope within. seriously- just think of all the ideas and inventions and plans and mind-blowing, incredible things that have followed someone saying, "IF…" 

i commiserate closely with Martha and Mary who ran to Him with tears running in rivers down their faces as they each questioned Him.  they knew He was able, knew that He loved them, and could fathom no earthly reason why He wouldn't answer their prayer for Lazarus's healing. that word, "IF" just doesn't go away.  IF You had been here, Lazarus wouldn't be dead right now.  IF You had come.  IF we could see things from Your perspective. so many IFs that only become clear on the other side of the grave. so many of the miracles He performed began with an IF, a petition for His mercy as the wounded and poor and outcast and ailing clung to that hope before them of deliverance.

i don't know when this thought hit me like a brick in the face, but since it's right before Easter, everyone who sets foot in a church this week is going to hear about this passage.  and it's about what most would, under most any other circumstance, term an "unanswered prayer." it's an "IF" of epic proportions. even weirder, it's Jesus who's praying.

right after the Last Supper, Jesus goes with his few best friends to the garden of Gethsemane to pray, like they did all the time. they sang, they talked, they bonded.  then Jesus left 8 of them and took the last 3 and told them quite frankly, "I'm scared to death." He asked them to pray, and then went a couple trees away and prayed Himself.  He fell down on His knees and begged God Almighty to find some other way- any other way- to accomplish the task… the task of saving us.

it's not just once.  three separate times He prays the exact same thing.  because He's perfect, He willingly submits to God's will- but still, He prays for that cup to pass away. "IF there is ANY OTHER WAY, make this cup pass." 

every time He went back to check on Peter, James and John He found them dead asleep.  and it's only us who realize later that their eternity (and ours…) was hanging in the balance, and they're snoozing. i don't know about you, but i am immediately humbled by the thought of that prayer.  Jesus didn't have  to do anything.  He could have zapped right back to heaven and rejoined the Father and Holy Spirit and all the celestial beings in eternal perfection and left humanity to its fate. 

and He would have been thoroughly justified in doing so.

the only thing He gained by this, the greatest sacrifice, was us.  you.  me. that church member you secretly can't stand.  your boss who drives you bonkers. the neighbor down the street with the perfectly manicured lawn (…who sneers at yours while her dog pees by your mailbox…). that family member whose special talent is saying the wrong thing in a loud voice.  He took that cup for us.

can you imagine, just for a minute, if Jesus's prayer were answered and that cup just disappeared?

Luke 22:43 mentions an angel that comes to Him during this last, desperate prayer.  i wonder if it's one of the same ones that appears at the end of His first temptation, where He was even given that way out He requested.  The Devil himself offers Jesus the world. "You remember how You made me 'ruler of this world'?  Yeah, IF You bow down and worship me, i'll back off and give this whole place back to you." for Jesus, it's of course an unthinkable way to avoid the Cross. He'd known for ages that the ultimate purpose for those 33 years on this little planet was its redemption, and the Triune God had already designed how that redemption would happen.  but on some level, during that time in the wilderness, Jesus was still tempted.  Satan gave Him a way to take Earth away from his clutches, bypass Calvary altogether and all for the low price of a bow and a word of praise. He literally has an out, right there.

now a couple years later in the Garden, Jesus knows that no matter how many times He prays IF, our only hope is Him. He also knows that the only way to make our IFs possible is through His. 

i'm still not super glad most of the time for the IFs i juggle. but i'm coming to learn (slowly) that i will be grateful later on for each IF- the big ones, the little ones, the confusing ones, the painful ones, the scary ones. when i can't see the answers, it's not His fault- and there are answers (even if they are "no").

so i can pray knowing that each IF has an answer. 

i can pray in hope, just like every other person He ministered to. 

i can pray IF, because He hears and knows and understands. 

and i can pray knowing that "all the promises of God are Yes in Christ," and that not an ounce of that hope in Him is ever misplaced. because their prayer was "unanswered" Martha and Mary could "see the glory of God." and because Jesus's own prayer was "unanswered" we can now see glimpses of that same glory that we will view in full strength later on. if that's what He can do with their IFs, i can't wait to see what will happen with each of ours that we give to Him!    

the song of the Rock

i've always felt a pull towards the idea of missions, especially foreign missions.  i love traveling. i love adventures. i love the sights, sounds, feels and tastes.  i simply adore the camaraderie of  serving with a team, meeting goals and needs, serving side by side fellow Christians of every nationality.  it's a small piece of heaven; i want every slice i can get.

for some reason (okay, let's call it what it is: SIN) it's always been a thousand times easier to find a stranger in a foreign land and share the Gospel than it is to grab the elbow of my neighbor and share this mind-blowingly good news. 

it's Easter, friends.  this week our extended family members all over the world are celebrating the climax of Christianity.  this is it!  Easter weekend is the single reason we all have hope, love, a future, a family, forgiveness.  the TOMB is EMPTY! THAT ROCK MOVED, FOLKS!! if ever there was a time to celebrate life, it's now.  if ever there was an opportunity to share Christ that was handed to you on a silver, diamond-studded platter, it's now.

it's also the time when the whole nation is "sharing" and "liking" posts, making new hashtags and changing their profile pictures to the flag of Belgium.  social media is exploding with news about, and prayers for, the victims, their families, their country… OUR country, every country! the death toll rises, names are being released, and once again anyone with a trace of spirituality is praying to whatever or whoever they think might be listening.  instead of celebrating life, thousands are mourning death.

the exciting, and scary, thing about all of this is that we've gotten our cue.  we missed it-again- but we get a second (or ten thousandth) chance.

every word i read or hear about missions fills me with both hope and shame. hope at the idea of giving as much time as God allows to serving Him in a place still waiting.   shame, because… i'm surrounded by people HERE and NOW who don't know, don't care, don't know to care and live day to day waiting for a "something." and yet i, and so many Christians, live day to day with our mouths closed.  without the glamour and thrill of a passport stamp, the concept of bringing up faith, religion or an afterlife is deemed as  inappropriate and socially unacceptable. 

and yet...

and yet, there's a world out there crying out for answers and mercy.

for a hope that lasts longer than a paycheck.

for a life that is free of pain, guilt, death, gore, sickness, bullets and bombs.

for a ruler that… is not quite like any current (or past) dictator, king or president.

we have it.  we have all of that.

because we have HIM.

HE is it.  our Hope that "enters once for all" into the true temple "not made with human hands" with a better sacrifice than all the goats and sheep in creation- Himself.

He is our Life- the source of all Life, and the way to a Life that will never end and that makes this earthly life as pale and transient as morning fog.

He is the Ruler that will never be unjust, protects all His own and whose term in office never ends.  no currency except faith.  no taxes except joyful praise. no end at all, except of sin and all its consequences. 

this is the song that never ends; it just goes on and on, my friends! it started just outside an empty hole in the ground, and will continue for all eternity, growing ever louder as we all join our voices.

we have it- all of it.

not only that, but we also have a direct order from our Ruler to bring as many others into this Kingdom as possible. He hears these cries, and has told us to show them the Answer.

the ancient Jews celebrated the Passover every single year, to serve as a reminder of their salvation.  they were even told how to share the meaning of their festival, so they would be prepared with an answer every time someone asked them what on earth they were doing.

as great as that holiday was… we celebrate the best of all Passovers- the final one, where our Lamb paid the final price and paved the way to God Himself, open to all who accept it.  we also each have an answer, a testimony, a true drama, a personal story to share every single time someone asks us what on earth we are doing.

i promise you this- you will honk some people off.  they will tell you that are an idiot, and worse.  they will tell you to shut up. they may end friendships, cost you business, hurt deeply.  your story may mean nothing to whoever you are talking to. Jesus Himself was told off by the  "religious elite." His answer: if the people won't, the rocks will.  the Good News will not be silenced.  it WILL be told- the only difference is the "how."  i haven't done my part.  i want to start- before my garden border stones start singing and put me to ultimate shame.

but i also promise that there is someone in your immediate vicinity that will hear and respond.  whether or not you ever hear about it, someone is broken and in desperate need of a Healer.  you knowing or taking credit is soooo not the point.  the personal cost is also not the point. whatever cost to you, Christ's was eternally greater. take a leap of faith and have your answer ready. there is nobody less worthy of the Gospel than you; there is nobody more worthy of the Gospel than any ISIS leader.  everyone needs to hear. and if we don't share, the rocks themselves will instead.  please don't give them our job. it's our time to rise up together and share Easter joy!

if you remember the point in your life when the message finally sunk in,  let that give you the strength to be that joy to someone else. 

let this Easter be a vivid reminder of what is at stake.   let His hope fill you with both joy and courage.  make this the best Easter of your life, and the first true Easter for someone else.  silence those rocks-ready, set, go!

a beautiful nightmare

i guess the vacation got to my head or something.   we're a few weeks past new year's and a whole new round of birthdays is starting, both of which tend to make us think of newness, happiness, beginnings, life and all manner of fun and frivolity.

we had spend a month learning about Noah and that section's theme of God keeping His promises.  it was fantastic, and we all had a blast.  if the kids spent any time at all thinking about the hundreds or thousands of people who were washed away by the rising waters, that all stopped the second i mentioned a 600-year-old guy building a boat, or doing anything, really. that alone is fairly distracting; when you add the chaotic zoological menagerie Noah and his family catered to for that entire year, i should be grateful they even retained "God Keeps His Promises."  we galloped like horses, stomped like elephants, roared like lions and tigers and bears, oh my- we did it all.  we sang "Arky, Arky" (which every child needs to know.  is this a "Northerner" thing?!?  only 2 adults i polled from church knew the song).  we had so much fun wondering if Noah had freshwater fishbowls on the ark, that we didn't really bring up the homes and pets and people and wildlife that didn't make it.

i was still a thinking a week behind when i waltzed into church this afternoon to prepare some coloring pages for all 17,000 children, flipped open the manual and saw the story for this week.

oh goodie.

instead of sticking with Abraham, we were jumping ahead a few centuries, right into Egypt, a land filled with slaves and sin, and about to be filled with frogs, bugs, brimstone and death.

i chose different coloring pages- happy pages- to photocopy.

i got all the story picture cards in order.

i wondered for 90 minutes how on earth to tell the story without causing too much trauma. this story didn't have any 600 year old people OR giant boats. 

we were doing mostly alright for almost half the time. 

entire river turning into blood? eww, but we moved on.

frogs? icky, but not too bad.

bugs? eh, not a problem.

boils? gross, but 4 year olds can't quite fathom it, so it passed right over their heads.

then all the fluffy cute animals died. bam. the Egyptians had lost their water supply, now they'd lost their meat, too. the kids didn't get that, either.  so i told them the truth: every time you eat a burger, someone lost a cow for that deliciousness.  no more burgers for the Egyptians.

thunder and hailstorms. locusts. darkness. three days of a darkness so dark you could feel it.

each time, Moses and Aaron went to Pharaoh and asked him to let God's people go.  
each time, Pharaoh said, "No."

every. blasted. time.

the kids had sobered enough by this point to hear the whole deal with Plague #10. 

about the fluffy white sheepie. about killing it.  about painting the door frame with its blood.  i am SO GLAD we no longer live in a culture where this wouldn't have sounded altogether creepy and gross and sad. 

but it is.  it's creepy AND gross AND sad.

it's to save the firstborns.

God was going to save the firstborn Israelites (all of them, really).  the firstborn Egyptians weren't so lucky.

the kids didn't really understand the word "firstborn."  so i told them the truth.  the oldest boy in every family.

bam.

there were a few firstborn sons in the classroom. at least half the class had older brothers.  there were tears- legit, wet, crocodile tears- welling up in those eyes.  one child covered his face with his hands and fell forward to hide his reaction to the idea of his older brother dying.

i couldn't help feeling it, too.  i've got a brother.  my sister has a firstborn kid that i saw last week and played in the snow with and worked puzzles with.

we ended the night with awards and badges for all the verses they've said, so i think they recovered. possibly better than i did.

…

this year instead of returning with my friends to India, i have remained here.  but my thoughts and prayers are still with them now, and i remembered one of the experienced from last year that got my attention.

it was a sunday morning after a 12-hour drive through bouncy, bumpy unpaved "roads" in a car with fewer seats than people.  the end of the trek landed us in a hotel with fewer beds than people, no hot water but lots of cold water on the floor and walls and pipes and…

anyway, we woke up and sipped the chai tea the hotel guy brought from the seller across the street, so we were looking down on him from the second story window as he conversed with a large crowd of folks, probably all about the white people that came to town.  then Lynn and i looked a little past him to the empty lot.  oh boy.  i was not quite awake enough for that. this is a small excerpt from what i wrote about it later.

***

the first morning in the hotel in Ongol i woke up to a surprise.  apparently on weekends, Indians like to chill before another work week and do most of their hanging out on Sundays, and their hanging out usually involves eating more meat than weekdays. some things are the same over there. :)

well, this hotel was one street behind a main street, so our windows overlooked the back of the market stalls that sell meat, especially lamb and chicken.

i would just like to state that i didn’t immediately appreciate the eye-opening insight to the Passover celebration, especially that early on a morning…but i did several cups of chai tea later.

it’s not clean.  it certainly isn’t pretty. it is not a part of our sanitized culture.  i wonder if we lost some of the beautiful hugeness of his sacrifice because we got rid of some of the ugliness.

the idea of hosting a cute little lamb in your house for a week and then turning it into lamb chops is one thing, especially after the kids have named it, petted it, played with it.

the idea that God Incarnate would willingly become that lamb and live among us, seeing the cross in His future for 33 years takes “sacrifice” to a whole new level.

***

i did not particularly enjoy making small people cry.

but the fact remains that without the sheep's sacrifice, Israel was doomed to slavery.

and without Jesus' sacrifice so are we.

it's a terrible bedtime story. 

but the good-ness is so good only because the bad-ness is so, so bad.

the best-est, most beautiful nightmare.

when the children get over the buggy nightmare, my hope is that maybe they'll hold on to just enough of the terror of the plagues to make the coming salvation that much sweeter.

my other hope is that big people do, too.  i know that all too often i forget some things.  it's easy to remember that i'm saved.  it's not always easy to remember what i've been saved from. i take the salvation almost for granted and neglect the cost that i didn't have to pay. it's happier, but it cheapens the happiness.  it's prettier, but it's not the truth. the truth is that all of humanity was on the edge of a thousand-foot cliff, about to fall into a rocky barren firepit. then we were hauled back at the last instant by our only hope. take away the cliff and firepit and all you've got left is a walk in the park that Jesus gives up an afternoon to join you for.

without the plagues, the Israelites would've given up even earlier or not even left their taskmasters. they would have made all the bricks Pharaoh wanted, as long as they got their cucumbers (seriously, where were their priorities?!?!).

we closed out story time, transitioned to snack time and after the Nilla Wafers we sang another classic, "My God is So Big"- and said a prayer of thanks. thanks for being so big, so strong and so mighty that there's nothing our God cannot do.  so big and so strong that he can turn rivers to blood, dirt into bugs, horror into hope and death into deliverance.

sweetest dreams, friends.

(just remember to check for frogs!)