"Jesus, please take my flamingoes..."

i'd love to say that this is my favorite time of year.

so i will- this is my favorite time of year.

and i only lied a little bit! 

parts of this time of year are my favorite, but some parts are not. i like the extra smiles that come with the holiday season.  i like how there's a special little spark inside people that prompts a giving attitude, increased generosity, reconciliation and, of course, good food and folks to share it with.

however, i do not like the cold weather, the early sunset and the impossibility of finding a good pair of jeans that fit.  guys have no idea. none at all.

i'm also not a huge fan of most family-related occasions.  being over 500 miles away from most family members means that i either get "adopted" by a church family for a day or else i sign up to work, where at least i can be with my "work family." working in a hospital means i encounter the full range of family situations on a daily basis, and as much as i dislike it i know where some of my family lies on that sliding scale of instability.  the holiday season seems to exist solely to remind me of this and makes celebrating a bit harder at times.  last week felt like an emotional workout trying to force myself to become excited.  i almost succeeded for a while!

this thanksgiving provided me and my sister an opportunity to do something we've never done before and go have an adventure in the great state of Florida.  too many other relatives had too much going on for us to get together this year, so we looked up Disney World on mapquest, loaded the car and booked it on an overnight road trip.  we photo-documented just about everything and had a fantastic time seeing what a little bit of magic and whole lot of money can build.

 

the best of what we saw, however, could never be replicated as well, no matter how far science takes us. you can commercialize however much you want, but the real eye-catchers were not made of plastic.  while "White Christmas" blared over speakers and glittery pixie dust covered the gift stores, we walked past gorgeous flowers, palm trees, ponds, rivers, animals and all kinds of people.  trained dolphins leapt 10 feet in the air, and wild manatees rested while we snorkeled over their heads buried in the mud.  a barracuda tried to make friends with me.  an evil-looking eel tried to steal my soul. a pelican almost choked to death swallowing a live fish that refused to give up. we went on a water ride BEFORE visiting the 30-degree penguin environment. we pondered why on earth flamingo/es sleep with one foot up.  and then we wondered why we had never wondered that before. for real.

bunny trail #1: lept? leapt? leaped? how many of these are correct?!? my spell-check recognizes none of them.

bunny trail #2:  plural of flamingo is...? and is this American English (which isn't either) vs. British English? and how many debates can we have over the validity of Webster's new addition of culterally made-up words like "ginormous" and "facebooking"?

coming back, i was faced again with some realities that i enjoyed being away from.  there's a dearth of Christmas music on the radio, and i could really use some James Penguin right now.  there's been some unrest in my heart and i struggled to figure it out until i got a step closer yesterday. 

it's the second week of Advent, a time of preparation and celebration in anticipation of the Hope of Nations. 

my devotions have led me to the end of John- the resurrection, Peter's restoration and call, and yet another Baptist-style fellowship by the sea.

Jesus's birth, and Jesus's resurrection.

the two biggest events in all of human history before me, and i felt empty. 

well, not empty.  i was full, but not of Christmas cheer. 

i was short-sighted; blinded by something in the way.

one of the little irritations about road trips is the frequent "ping" sound that i hear as one by one little bugs crash-land on the windshield.  driving overnight means my vision isn't obscured at all, but i still hear each one.  once the sun comes up i can see every little splotch that causes fuzzy blurs in my periphery when i focus on the road ahead.

this time, it felt like more than a bug.  this wasn't a "fuzzy blur" on my emotional windshield.  i could barely see anything.  it was bigger than a bug- more like a bird. 

and i'm not talking 'bout a little goldfinch.

by "bird" i mean a big ole' FLAMINGO.  feathers, bill, legs and wings- the whole dern thing had kamikazed down and obliterated  my entire field of vision.  i had to squint through the downy under-feathers and between knobby knees just to see the second Advent candle being lit. 

the candle of Peace. 

the confusion mounted to frustration.  i can get rid of bug-splatter with a few swipes of the wipers. 

i cannot, however, get rid of flamingo-splatter.

yes, i literally said a prayer asking Jesus to remove the flamingo.  (not out loud, you weirdo!!  good grief- i was in church!)

i felt better, not because the flamingo had moved yet, but because i knew that the Peace was still there even though i can't really see it now.  and that i knew the one who could clean up flamingo/es better than anyone. 

and also because of the mental image. i know the trip to Florida had a part in it, but still… i don't feel convicted in giving credit to the One who created flamingos in the first place for also giving me a slightly more humorous way of looking at the problem. 

through the tangle on my windshield i can see several more flamingo/es headed my way.  i'm so glad i've got Animal Control on speed dial. (i figure as long as i've got a great analogy, i should take it as far as i can!)

underneath all the wrappings and ribbons and commercialized consumerism lies a calm reality.  the truth of the season is that Hope showed up in a dirty barn- not a palace or White House or Wall Street,-during a time of uncertainty, fear, instability and hopelessness.  an unlikely hero in a less-than-resorty locale with an impossible mission. the prayer on my heart right now is that as He takes care of my flamingo/es, He will also take care of yours, that the God-made Peace and Hope of this Advent season sparkle through brighter than the man-made pixie dust (creepy how that sounds…) and that the highway ahead of you is clear.  these problems are temporary; the solution is eternal, and it's on its way and nothing can stop it. 

overcome

it's been almost a full year that i started reading through the book of John and being Type A i've determined that i must stay here until the new year.  the Type B part doesn't have any problem with this.  i've seen things i never saw before, found treasure troves in the most unexpected places, and now i'm not even sure i could move on once january does makes its appearance.

all this, plus a new year's resolution to start memorizing more, plus recent events, plus a super phone app that makes memorizing a challenge i gladly accept mean that when i need them the words are there. 

i don't pay for tv services.  so not worth it, especially when facebook is faster and just as accurate.  and free.

but overnight thousands of lives were changed in Europe, just like has happened in too many other countries, and a new tidal wave of fear, anger and grief hit the shores of America. 

suddenly, profile pictures are covered with red, white and blue stripes, hashtags light up screens and even some atheists i know are "praying for Paris." but one picture i scrolled past caught my eye because i knew the overlaying quote, and the broader context.

"But take heart; I have overcome the world."

it's like magic, isn't it?  the chapter break comes at just the right point, almost making you stop and read it again.  and again.

"But take heart.  I have overcome the world."

i have no idea who first posted that on social media or if they had any idea of the context. that quote is from Jesus.

Jesus said that.

Jesus said that as he was physically walking from the borrowed upper room to the borrowed tomb, via a garden, a jury and a cross.  Judas Iscariot had just run out on them, the other 11 completely lost in confusion.  they finished their Passover feasting and Jesus, knowing everything past, present and future suggests an evening stroll to their favorite nearby hangout spot in the Garden of Gethsemane. 

one of my favorite pastors once said that you oughta pay attention to someone's last words.  if there's any place to say what's really important, deep deep down, that you want so desperately for someone to remember, that's what you're going to say when you know the end is coming.

that's what Jesus is doing right here.  Chapters 14 through 17 are Jesus's last chance to reinforce everything vital that He's been trying to get them to understand for the past couple years.  and He's doing it quite calmly so far, given that He knows what's going on and they don't.

not a word is written here about their reactions to His discourse here, but from past chapters, i'd bet a nickel that it was pretty similar to His other bold statements: most of them sitting (or walking) in stupefied silence until Peter recovers enough to open his mouth and start rambling nonsense. 

it could be that Peter didn't really recover from this one until after Judas showed up.  i don't think i would, either. 

mostly because the majority of this section at first read is bad news. really bad.  this is Jesus's "get ready" speech.

"you've seen what they've done; you're gonna see what they're about to do...you're next. they hate Me.  they're gonna hate you. I'm leaving; you're gonna miss Me. you're going to leave Me, deny Me, desert Me.  things are bad- they're going to get worse."

four chapters of this! four chapters of bad news as they casually stroll through the darkening streets of the city crammed full of celebrating Jews.  four chapters of increasingly depressing information that is completely out of place for a festive holiday season. 

kinda like right now.

even though i'm sitting here in a Panera sipping cooling coffee out of a seasonally-decorated cup (not red…), i have been at a loss for words reading small tidbits of news as it flies over from Paris.  this, on top of what we already know from a dozen other countries.  just like Jesus promised.

in a silent show of solidarity, i am currently wearing a t-shirt with a flaming red arabic N on it. the fact does not escape me that this would get me killed in all those dozen other countries.  just like Jesus promised.

families are being torn apart.  lives are being lost.  fanatics are holding hostages, selling humans and ransacking villages in the name of their religion. just like Jesus promised.

this is probably why Jesus wasn't interrupted.  how do you respond to this? how could He say all this so calmly like He was commenting on the robe sale at the tailor's place?

it's because of what else He promised.

that He's going to make a place for you and for me- a place where He is- where we will someday be with Him forever.

that He is the Way, the Truth and the Life.  He is the visible face of the Immortal, Invisible God.

that every single prophecy about Him from the beginning of time would be fulfilled- the ones we like, and the ones we don't like or understand. 

that we would not be alone, because the Helper was coming.

that if we abide in Him, we can ask whatever we wish in His name and it will be done for us. 

that a peace is coming unlike any peace we've known before, that cannot be duplicated or forged or destroyed or stolen or erased or damaged.

that our sorrow will be turned to joy, and that this joy would overflow, and that this joy would never, ever be taken away.

that we should take heart, because He has overcome the world.

and then Jesus Christ does something that i have read dozens of times and still haven't gotten over:

He prays for us.

He prays for His disciples… and then He prays for US.

"When Jesus had spoken these words, He lifted up His eye to heaven and said, "Father the hour has come; glorify Your Son that Your Son may glorify You, since You have given Him authority over all flesh, to give eternal life to all whom You have given Him.  And this is eternal life, that they know You the One true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent. I glorified You on earth, having accomplished the work that You gave Me to do. And now, Father, glorify Me in Your presence with the glory that I had with You before the world existed.

I have manifested Your name to the people whom You gave me out of the world. Yours they were, and You gave them to Me, and they have kept Your word. Now they know that everything You have given Me is from You. For I have them the words that You gave Me, and they have received them and have come to know in truth that I came from You; and they have believed that You sent Me. I am praying for them. I am not praying for the world but for those whom You have given Me, for they are Yours.  All Mine are Yours, and Yours are Mine, and I am glorified in them. And I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to You. Holy Father, keep them in Your name, which You have given Me, that they may be one, even as We are one.  While I was with them, I kept them in Your name, which You have given Me.  I have guarded them, and not one of them has been lost except the son of destruction, that the Scriptures might be fulfilled.  But now I am coming to You, and these things I speak in the world, that they may have My joy fulfilled in themselves.  I have given them Your word, and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, just as I am not of the world.  I do not ask that You take them out of the world, but that You keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth; Your word is truth.  As You sent Me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.  And for their sake I consecrate Myself, that they also may be sanctified in truth.

I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in Me through their word, that they may all be one, just as You, Father, are in Me, and I in You, that they also may be in Us, so that the world may believe that You have sent Me.  the glory that You have given Me I have given to them, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that You sent Me and loved them even as You loved Me.  Father, I desire that they also, whom You have given Me, may be with Me where I am, to see My glory that You have given Me because You loved Me before the foundation of the world. O Righteous Father, even though the world does not know You, I know You, and these know that You have sent Me.  I made known to them Your name, and I will continue to make it known, that the love with which You have loved Me may be in them, and I in them."

 Jesus is literally minutes away from arrest and torture, but He takes this time to pray for us.  the Holy Trinity is having a conversation about us, and i love how the Helper nudged John and helped him write it down, after 'bringing to his remembrance all that He had spoken'.  (just like Jesus promised!)

i don't know everything that's going to happen.  we knew Islam was spreading all over Europe, that governments are closing their eyes, hearts and borders, and that the attacks will only continue as long as we do nothing.  we knew that Christianity was losing ground in this country and probably won't gain any back.

but i also know that i can't read those four chapters in John without being strangely calm.  because every prediction of heartache is met with a promise that far surpasses the trials coming our way.

we grieve this shameful nonsense occurring on a near-daily basis.  we mourn so many lives lost because they chose to follow the Way, Truth and Life.  those are my family members- my brothers and sisters- that are being murdered.  we support the victims and their loved ones any way we can.

but we do it all knowing that if those promises were kept, we can trust that ALL the promises He made are guaranteed us as well. 

we can lose heart when the task at hand dwarfs those available to help, when we see the enormous need and have so little to offer by ourselves.  when our neighbors are on the other side of the world and we don't even know how to begin the job of bearing their burdens with them.  Asia, South America, know that we are praying for you.

we take heart because the Helper is coming- has come.

we sometimes lose heart when we see each new report of torture and murder, as terrorist organizations indiscriminately wipe out pastors, farmers, wives, children, neighbors, churches, homes, entire villages as the world steps back.  Africa, Asia, know that we are praying for you.

we take heart because His hope and His healing are coming.

we'd lose heart if all we read was the newspaper.  some days you can't even read the comics without putting them down depressed.  this world is a mess. a gut-wrenching, tear-jerking mess. Europe, Syria, China, Korea, Ukraine, Russia, India, Iraq...brothers and sisters everywhere… please know we are praying for you.  we are praying that you remain steadfast, keeping your eyes on your King, your hope in your first citizenship in Heaven, your life in His hands, and your soul under His pinions.  take heart, because you are not alone- not even close to it. you have so many promises to stand on, each one a rock in the wall of protection surrounding you.

take heart- because He has overcome this world.

2 am theology

editor's note: there's a good chance i may have misunderstood, misquoted or misrepresented the perspectives or words of my companions mentioned here.  if i did so, my deepest and humblest apologies.  feel free to correct me!

***

this past week has been a killer.  worse than a killer, because actually it's been almost 2 weeks long.  and in those 1.7 weeks, i worked the equivalent of 3 weeks' worth of work.  9 shifts in 11 nights, and i'm ready for a break! 

like, for realzies.

i do not remember how this all came about because the nights have all run together in my head, but somewhere several nights ago at work a random question popped up between 2 other super-cool nurses about the end times and persecution and one of them casually asked my opinion, listened for a minute and then went back about her work.  the other nurse couldn't escape me because we were in the same area ;)  it helped immensely that she has a working knowledge of the Bible and basic Christian principles and holds to her faith, so we had a common ground- which hasn't been the case with anyone who's recently asked me a question about faith or spirituality. 

i'm not good with my spoken words.  kinda like Moses only worse, i believe. my brain turns into macaroni and cheese, my words get jumbled and lost and half the time i just give up talking altogether.

but i loved the talk anyway, which continued and ranged over several topics and hours.

the question centered on my belief in either the pre- or post-Tribulation rapture (whether i thought Christians would be called up to heaven before or after the "end times", namely the time of great evil and trials that the Bible says will happen as/just before the physical world ends)- and why.

oh boy.

oooooooh, boy!

the short answer, as of right this moment before more study, is that i am led more towards a post-tribulation rapture.  i have heard strong, and strongly-worded, cases for both sides, and several more sides that it would just take too long to think about here. i forget what my first coworker said, but the second seemed to hope that it was a pre-trib rapture.  i don't know if she has actually read, or if she only knows of, the Left Behind series- but i'm just gonna say now that i have read all of them (excepting the very last one, after Jesus comes back), and i disagree with the authors on several points.  mainly, i object to the way it seems they pick and choose prophecies from all throughout the Bible and interpret them in ways that make for a great story, but not *necessarily* the truth. 

she said first of all

1)that she's a fighter (she is- really.  i wouldn't push it ;) )and that she hoped she'd be able to stay strong against those who challenged her faith, 

2) that she honestly hadn't thought things would get as bad as they have for Christians in America so soon, and also

3) that she knows a bit more about the Old Testament than the New.

to the first point, i hope the same.  but i also know myself enough to know that i do have a breaking point and i do sometimes wonder how much i could really handle. i do concede that a lot of me hopes that i do get raptured first, or that my persecutor just whips out a gun so we can skip the whole fighting, bribing, blasphemy, physical torture and all similar trauma.  not to be glib, but to be real. i have a high pain tolerance, but … evil minds go deeper and darker than i can fathom. and there are evil, evil minds at work in this world today.

to the second point, nothing encouraging there.  sorry. because i really don't things will get better.  i really do things will get worse.  possibly faster than i think.

to the third, finally… i do think i have an answer.  and it means that i can accept the first two points and hold to the hope in the truths i see here.

for a book with so many authors and written over so many years, the Bible is a remarkably put-together read!  because really, it only has one Author and He's brilliant and He put all kinds of allusions and illustrations all over the Old Testament so that even the fishermen we read about in the New Testament were able to understand the connections.

and one of my favorite Old Testament stories is also one of the most well-known.

it's the story of the Exodus, and i think it illustrates in many ways the coming "exodus," or rapture.

back in Egypt's grand day, this guy who was admittedly not an orator but rather an exiled, rejected, simple, OLD shepherd was told by a burning scrub bush to do the impossible- rescue God's people from their 400-year long slavery. after much convincing, he agreed.

he went back to the land that had his face on wanted posters, walked up to the pharaoh (who was held to be deity to the Egyptians) and told him to give up his entire workforce, because a Voice was telling him to.  a Voice who said He was the ONLY GOD. 

now, Moses had already been told that there was going to be a struggle.  and a struggle there was.  10 seconds after that first encounter, pharaoh made the labor worse so that even the slaves hated Moses, who was genetically one of their own.

then the plagues came, each one a little worse, and (i read from a Jewish rabbi) each pointedly showing Yahweh's superiority over a different Egyptian god. 

i read about the Nile turned to blood and the plague of frogs and want to puke. 

i read about the gnats and the boils and want some benedryl and a shower. 

i read about the hail and fire and loss and resulting poverty, destruction and hunger and want to cry.

but alongside the plagues, there's a promise.  starting with the 4th (of 10) plagues, God promises that they WILL NOT TOUCH HIS PEOPLE.  hate them all you want, but not a single hailstone  or locust landed in Goshen.  search the barracks, and you will not see a boil or blemish on a Jew's face.  even the 3-day darkness that every Egyptian physically felt didn't affect those the I AM said were His.

then the final blow to the king who would call himself a god: the loss of every single first-born child in Egypt…

except those who heard and heeded Moses's warning by wiping the blood of a spotless lamb on their doorposts.

at that point, not only were the Jews let go, they were commanded to flee and sent on their way with their arms full of gold and jewels, effectively looting the mighty nation that had already lost everything else because of their impenitent hearts.

those Jews were physically present for all the plagues- but were protected for the worst, and served as an example to the Egyptians .  when the judgement was complete, His people were called out of their bondage and led to the Promised Land.

thus, the first "Passover" celebration, where God's people remember how He passed over those covered by the blood.

i think in the same way, we (meaning, "Christians living during the coming of the 'Great Tribulation' ") will be left on earth when the final judgements come.  but in Revelation, there is a point at which everyone will be marked- those who follow Jesus the Lamb being covered by His blood, and everyone else receiving the "mark of the beast."  Christians will face persecution, but those "coming out of the great tribulation" will be given white robes and a front seat in the amphitheater of martyrs praising Jesus for the rest of eternity. (see Revelation 7: 13-14, and note: it does not say "hauled out as a group before the tribulation")

before the white robes, they will be on the earth, serving as shining lights in a dark, dark world and pointing the lost to the Savior, though those with impenitent hearts will suffer for, but not turn from, their sins.

***

a New Testament parallel would be the very last Passover mentioned.

when Jesus tells His faithful few yet again that persecution will come.

this spotless Lamb was heading for that wooden crossbeam so the wrath of God would pass over those who claimed refuge under it, while the rest of the outwardly religious city was trying to destroy the I AM and set up their own religion as they wanted.

not very many verses later, all four of the Gospels tell how those faithful few run like jackrabbits as their leader is arrested by murderous scoundrels.

and Peter?… good, lively, adamantly pro-Jesus Peter?... guy with Christian bumper stickers all over his fishing boat? that Peter?!?- at the very first test of his devotion to Christ, he caves to fear and lies to save his own skin, just like Jesus said he would. 

just like i could see myself doing, if pushed too far.

and yet a few days later, the newly-risen Savior meets him again and in one of the most touching bonding moments in the history of EVER, Peter is forgiven.

redeemed, restored, refreshed.

the first to recognize Jesus as the Son of God was (essentially) the first one to face persecution, the first to face arrest and possible death for his devotion to Jesus, and the first one to fail -not even once, but 3 times- and was the first to be met with unparalleled grace and love from the One he denied.

those who are truly His are not lost.

the Blood never fails.

i don't have many answers, but i do see an awful lot of Bible verses about spiritual warfare, preparedness, promises that persecution WILL COME to any who hold fast to the name of Jesus, knowing that we are never tempted beyond what we can bear *through His strength.* and that we are also promised mercy and forgiveness for our failings, which happen when we do things *in our own strength.*

and there are just as many Bible verses about the victory coming, eternal rest in the heavenly Promised Land, and the promise that those "passed over" will not have any regrets afterwards.  the book of Revelations ends much the same way Moses's exodus does, which should give us all the hope and encouragement we need as we follow our Leader towards whatever does happen.

the sweetest swap

i love traveling.  or at least, i don't mind it too much.  which is good because the closest relative (before my sister began collage in town here) is 664 miles away, plus a time zone change, plus extra for the search for Pilot stations and detours for when they decide to shut down I-40 at midnight.

and while there's often a few hours where i fight the sleepies, the occasional overnight drive means that i have 10+ hours with no urgent phone calls, internet, tv...people… crowded roads… it's just me, my thoughts and whatever music or podcasts i care to blast.  and a ribbon of highway that goes past the horizon no matter how long i've been driving.

this most recent trip i continued one of my favorite series of podcasts by Wayne Grudem as he teaches through his giant textbook on systematic theology.  yeah, i know. but i love it.  even if there is no easy or clear answer or if i may disagree with his conclusion, i always learn a little bit more.

one of the neat things i've learned, both through this textbook and our church's curriculum, is that even through the names and circumstances change a bit, there are all kinds of images and word pictures for Jesus, from Genesis straight on through Revelation. 

and one of the strongest images shows up near the (second) beginning of the world, and is just about THE beginning of our entire faith history, when this random pagan dude named Abram gets a chance to step into the biggest story of everyone's lifetime.  he didn't know that, but he DID know that when the Voice of Truth tells you to do something, you probs should get on it, even if you're firmly planted in the Senior Citizen age group.  following Truth's lead, he turns his life upside down, does his own sort of road trip to put down root way far away, converts his philosophy, and does more of a U-turn in life than anyone i know would do just because a Voice told him to.  it must have been a convincing Voice because beyond anyone's comprehension he winds up with a kid a century younger than he is, which assures him that all the other mind-blowing promises made to him were going to come true as well. 

but then the dream turns nightmare-ish for just a bit. 

the Voice comes back, and what it says is not… not what he was hoping.  definitely not conventional, but what else has it said that didn't make some waves (literally- the Voice made the waves) that rocked some boats?

it told good ole' Abe to take the son that was promised to him… and sacrifice him up on a mountaintop.  the kind of sacrifice you can't go back on, involving knives and fire.

what the crap. seriously, what. the. crap.

studying this as a large group at church, about 50 of us brainstormed through a list of questions that came into our minds after reading this passage. questions like:

-being raised a pagan, was this type of sacrifice not as abnormal to him as to us?

-how old was Isaac, this breathing promise being recalled?

-how long did it take him to pack up and start walking to the mountain?

-WHAT ON EARTH DID ABRAM TELL SARAH as he walked out the tent flap  with their child who was supposed to be the start of a chosen nation?!?

we don't know.  all we do know is that Abram packs a suitcase with some robes, firewood and matches and says he and Isaac are going on a father-son retreat to worship this Voice.

the thought process takes a long time.  the passage has zero verses in between the command and the obedience. 

Isaac is smart enough to realize halfway up this mountain that he's carrying the firewood, his ancient dad has the suitcase, but there's no animal for the sacrifice.  after being reassured by his dad that God's got this under control, he continues unaware.

at some point i think he catches on, because he finds himself tied up and lying on the firewood.

and just when both of them are despising (while obeying) the Voice more than either thought they could, the Voice comes one last time. if you're still brainstorming through this, try to picture both of their faces.  the confusion, denial, anger, bargaining-  they're flying through those grief stages- but Abe's already reached some level of acceptance and puts that shaky knife-wielding hand in the air. 

the knife is literally in the air when Abram is told to put it back down and take back his son.

and in its place he puts a ram that got stuck in an unfortunately nearby bush.

i don't know how long it took for their heart rates to come back down, but i'm betting there was some fantastic worshiping going on up there as they celebrated weirdest life-and-death situation they were rescued from.  what a sweet swap!

there's a little bitty "mountain" or sorts that has become my favorite.  it's only 3 or 4 steps high, but there are times when it's almost as hard to climb as it was for Abram to climb his.  at the top, there's a table.  an altar.

a place to put our everything.  our hopes, dreams, promises, future, lives.  whatever the Voice asks for, no matter how crazy or contradictory it sounds. 

understanding is not a prerequisite to obedience.

and before you can make excuses, you can read the engraved words, "In Remembrance of Me" on the side.

so that we can remember that Abram's story was a glimpse ahead of a different sacrifice, where a different ram took its place on a different altar in the place of a  different child, even as the judgement was inches away in the hand of the father.

you're the child.

Jesus is the ram.

the altar… is an altar. the place where mercy and judgement collide in a cataclysmic explosion- that yet leaves us, the released bystanders, unharmed. there's no acceptable response except to be knocked down to our knees by the shock waves from the impact and to worship where we fall.

that little bitty mountain that i climb sometimes feels steeper, sometimes less so.  often almost too steep. i shakily stumbled down the incline once after leaving my offering and took a single flower from the bouquet atop the altar.  i left feeling like i'd gotten the better end of that swap, leaving behind "just" a prayer and gaining a cut flower doomed to wilt in a day.  how could my gift compare? it seemed hopeless, near-worthless, trivial. i looked up and saw the giant stained glass window where fading light glowed through the image of a cross standing over the earth.

the first time i climbed that mountain under that cross, i exchanged all of my nothing for all of his everything.  i got on that altar, knowing what was at stake-

-and then-

- a moment to hold my breath-

- and there was a lamb where i used to be. 

if that's not the sweetest swap, i don’t know what is.

every time since has been easier than that first hike, and even though it can be more of a spiritual workout than i'd like, there's a unique quality to the time spent there.  it immediately brings me back to the beginning - of my beginning there. up on the mountain, it's just me and my redeemer.  few distractions, people, noises. no timelines, deadlines, headlines. where nothing is more important than the two of us. the time that is absorbed there is rarely regretted.   i'll make that swap any time i can.

penny goes decaf

what a week!

i am promising myself that the next time my checking account is compromised, my phone gets replaced and my internet is hijacked that i will NOT fix them in the same week.  possibly the same month, but that's it. 

the dumb errands tend to build up until they reach critical mass, which then causes me to go into a whirlwind of activity and knock things off the to-do list one after another.  then i make cookies, clean the kitchen, organize the room, and begin 2 new art projects.

and forget about the laundry.  again. 

but anyway. the important stuff is done (hypothetically speaking.  in reality, each item on the list will come with at least 2 new complications).

in addition, the workplace has been crazy-busy lately.  i love my job, i love my coworkers, i love working.  i love my patients, i love serving, i love those small moments in the dead of night that nobody else gets to see.

but still, it's been busy.  that overtime check is going to be simply glorious.

i don't remember what was going on at the time this thought first occurred to me, but it was similar in enough ways that the thought occurred again this week.

whatever was going on, there was a lot of it, and i was tired.  so very tired. and busy.  with a long to-do list and a short time span.

a little voice in my head remarked its doubts that there was enough caffeine in the state of tennessee to get me through it.

and then immediately following:

"Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.  take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart and you will find rest for your souls.  for My yoke is easy, and My burden is light."

and then immediately following:

what?!?!

for some reason, that day it struck me differently.

why, if i was tired and busy and had so much to do….

why would He offer me rest?

why not an espresso?  or chocolate?  or a giant mango smoothie?  or all the above- super-size?  why on planet earth would He offer me rest?!?

Jesus knew yokes and probs saw them every single day.  even if His dad was a carpenter, there's a decent chance He helped out at a cousin's farm and even learned how to steer those giant walking hamburgers up and down fields in the roasting hot sunshine.

He didn't have to personally experience the "american dream" to know intuitively that a lot of the time it's more like a nightmare that only ends when you go to bed...to relive it all over again.

the "american dream" is all about oneself.  getting more, getting ahead. being faster, smarter, cooler, prettier, richer, better- and being all of that immediamente.

yokes are about… none of that.

yokes are about teamwork, hard work, side by side work. 

they generally work best when the animals are of equal size and strength, but if one is slightly shorter or having an *off* day, or a bit slower, that poor cow knows that a foot away is another cow that can bear the rest of the load.  as long as that one is heading straight, sure-footed and strong, the weaker one will fall in step. it will learn, in its time, how to keep up and not fall or veer or surge ahead.  mostly because they are attached to each other by the neck. 

but this week, i don't particularly mind being attached by the neck to Someone who is able to bear the whole load and still not be pulled off course by me, as my eyes go bleary or my mind wanders, or my entire self just collapses from exhaustion and gets dragged along with the plough.  not to encourage laziness, but it really is okay sometimes to rest.  quit doing the solo-yoke thing- you'll just wind up ploughing the field into a maze, not a garden. the double-yoke thing works better- as long as you're with the right partner.  that's what Jesus says He is.  the yoke is easy and the burden is light because He's carrying 99.9999% of it already, and offering to carry you along with it.  you don't need an energy boost- you've got Him, the One who'll stay right by your side the entire way.  no refills or extra shots required.

i usually go crazy if i stay around the house "too much" without getting, or doing, or fixing, or seeing something.  today, i needed to rest.  so today, i rested. mostly because i'm skeptical of the phone's reliability and the checking account situation is still being resolved, so i have a little bit of cash to tide me over for a while, and going too far from home doesn't seem smart.

but still, i'm resting.  i worked on a painting.  i listened to fun and enlightening podcasts on systematic theology.  i read some of John outside. i found a fascinating, yet disturbing, display of God's weird world outside our window.  that monstrous garden spider that hasn't moved more than an inch in two days finally nabbed a huge catch- i take credit because i moved a fake flower display to the window to see if it would attract bugs.  i guess it worked.  i can't tell if i'm more curious or creeped out. 

but it doesn't matter, because i'm resting.  He gave me a day to rest so that i can learn from Him and also function well in the days to come when the work needs to get done- or at least some of it.  maybe not all of it.  i'll let the yoke-mate set the pace.

in the middle of the road

soooo much going through this crazy brain of mine.

that's less of an abnormality than i wish, and makes putting it all into words ridiculously difficult. 

especially since the comfy chairs in "my" coffee corner are gone. 

Dear Books-a-Million,

not cool. 

bring them back!!!!!

i was looking forward to spending time there, processing the missions trip that i couldn't process while laying semi-conscious on the couch focusing only on how to swallow.  i honestly don't think i've been that sick in almost a decade. i will never take my streptococcus- free throat for granted again.

every mission trip causes all kinds of memories that you hold on to forever.

this latest one, to Parnamirim, Brazil, was no different.

but each one also has one or two particularly special moments that hold on to YOU forever.   and every single time that trip is referenced over the next few decades, it will be the first image that comes into your mind, elevates your heart rate and puts a smile on your face.

well, we're working on the smile- it's a cross between a smile and a grimace right now- but it will come.

as far as the Brazil trips for our church is concerned, the work we do there is an incredible time of team bonding, hard, hard, hot work, new friends and old ones, more hard work and lots and LOTS of beans, rice and chicken. 

but everything we do is a build-up towards that one, single shining time: the dedication service of the chapel.  that friday night, dozens of Americans and Brazilians gather together in a one-room chapel that we built with our own hands, and we celebrate as a multi-national Church the God build with His own hands.  we sing, we hug, we share.  we present the chapel's keys to the pastor of this brand-new baby congregation, and plaques honoring those who provided the funds for the supplies and extra labor. we sing more and take zillions of selfies to treasure later.  there are tears of joy at the friendships we've made and the experiences we've shared that week, and there are tears of sadness at the impending separation the next day.

usually included in that service, just as in the morning devotionals, an American team member will share a personal testimony. i think every year we go, all the team members know that until Pastor Dan announces who's sharing the next day they should avoid eye contact or risk being asked.  it was monday or tuesday evening when he approached me and asked how i felt about giving a morning devotional at the work site before we began building.  even if it wasn't a full testimony, he asked if i just told a little about what God has been doing recently in my life.

i begged off, promising to "think about it." and thought i was off the hook. i didn't really say how i felt about it, because that answer would have been to laugh in his face, and shout "fat chance!" as i ran for the border.

but then there was a moment, thursday night.

our whole team had come back from the churrascaria (Brazilian steak house/all-you-can-eat) dinner, absolutely stuffed and now hanging out all over the motel pool area, the hammocks or the office in smaller groups.  laughter was ringing out, slowly quieting as people finished their card games and wandered back to their rooms to get some sleep.

i was trying to catch up on my mission trip journal and didn't notice him until he sat down on the bench beside me and said, "So, what's God doing in your life?"

all i promised was that i would try to write something down and we would decide in the morning, knowing that God's current working in my life would not make sense at all to anyone unless they knew the background, too.

just a few minutes later, he and everyone else had gone indoors.

i was left all alone on the bench.  just me and Jesus, trying to fathom the idea of sharing any of that story.  Pastor Dan knew just enough to know that it was a moving story that would be appropriate for this capstone moment.

deep (VERY deep) down inside, there returned to me a little (VERY little) voice that i'd heard a while before the trip.  a voice of hope.  a voice of freedom.  a voice that said maybe, just maybe, this would finally be the year i could find the strength within to release my story, stop living under a lie, and let God receive the glory for His work.  that's really the only reason we should share anything.

i stayed on that bench forever, typing words down in a file on my phone that i've never typed before. i saw those words and just … just nothing.  i felt numb inside.  there were so many questions, fears, doubts. for the thousandth time, i wondered "if You had been there, this wouldn't have happened, would it?"  and "what about now- right now - are You here?  would You come to this bench right now ? every personality test i've ever taken gets mixed up over me- i'm about 51% Type A and 49% Type B.  even Myers-Briggs has trouble classifying me.  the Type A side saw Pastor Dan's request as a simple task- don't think, just do.  the Type B side was struggling a bit more. as i mentally worked through this, trying to get the head and the heart to agree on something, just wondering what Jesus would say if He had sat down with me, it came.  a strong, loud, yet gentle rain. first, nothing; then, rain pouring down from invisible clouds in the dark, beating on the roof and then hitting the ground in rhythmic streams, evenly spaced by the wavy roof panels overhead.

it could have been a pure coincidence, or it could have been a little message: "I AM there on that bench…"

***

chapter 11 in the book of John covers the whole story of Lazarus, and for some reason i can't understand, John is the only guy who bothered to write it down.  i guess chiseling down a daily diary on boulders would get inconvenient, but you gotta think having a day like that would justify getting some cheap parchment and jotting down a paragraph or two!  guess not. 

but in between Lazarus being alive, and then being alive again, there are two brief conversations.  one with Martha and then one with Mary. the Brain and the Heart.

Jesus' disciples have just decided that they were going to keep following Jesus, even though they think He's making a super-stupid choice, heading right back to where He just escaped a mob-assassination from. they are devoted to Him, even when they don't understand Him.  because now that His friend is DEAD, going towards Jerusalem seems pointless and dangerous and dumb.

in response to their quizzical facial expressions, He says, "Are there not twelve hours in a day? If anyone walks in the day, he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world."

the only commentary my footnotes give state that He was saying that as long as He was there- because He WAS the light of the world- everything would be alright.

but even more than that, when He says that there are 12 hours in the day, the rest of that thought is left unstated:

after day comes the night. 

hours are measureable. 

He knew exactly what time it was. 

miles down the road, just outside the town of Bethany, Martha gets wind of His approach and meets Him outside the town gates.  wasting no time, she goes right into the conversation.  she doesn't really care about the traffic, the weather, the local news- she wants to know why He didn't come earlier. 

she's hurting and confused and very Type A.  she's the one who is always prepared, always working, always fixing things.  she's organized, she's capable, she's strong.

but there's a problem she can't fix, a situation wholly out of her control.

and the only One who could...didn't.

and durg it all, she wants to know why.

so she asks why, and He answers why. 

"if You had been here, this would NOT HAVE HAPPENED.. would it? "she had the theology down pat- she was just missing a key piece- Jesus.  

something "clicks" in her head and she knows someone else who needs a healing touch: her sister Mary.  so she races back to their home and tells Mary to get her sandals on 'cause Jesus was calling her (which there's no written record of).

so Mary hops on down the road just as fast as she can, wasting no time.

she likewise, could care less about current events or anyone else.  all she wants to know is why on earth He didn't come earlier.

she's hurting and confused and very Type B.  she's the one who cares more about the houseguest than the house, always spending time with people, building relationships, talking, sharing, loving.  she's caring, she's personable, she's committed.

but there's a problem she can't fix, a Lazarus-shaped hole in her heart. 

and the only One who could have stopped it...didn't.

and durg it all, she wants… she wants Him. 

so she falls at His feet, tells Him the problem… and nothing else.

"would You come- just come right here.  Come right here, right now- would You? could you?"

she's so upset there's not even a real question there. her brother is dead. either she thinks He can't fix it, knows He will, or  hasn't even thought that far ahead- i don't know. but it's enough for her that Jesus is right there, right then.  other friends followed her to lend their emotional support; they are invisible to her. 

it's just her and Jesus together. the I AM was right there.

even Jesus cries.  He cares enough to cry. like a strong but gentle rainstorm, making His presence known. not denying the problem- acknowledging it, but also the fact that the answer was coming- so soon- but not here yet, and that until that "yet" came there was a painful waiting. 

again, the commentary doesn't say much.  it considers the text sufficiently speaks for itself. Jesus was caught up in the emotion of the moment and supporting His friends who were hurting.

i can't help but think there's more.

He's looking back...but He's also looking forward, physically and metaphorically.

He's looking back at His disciples who followed Him and the question they're thinking ("half those Jews behind Mary are probably about to arrest us- why are we not running?")

He's looking forward at Martha and Mary and the questions swarming around them, and the questions that they don't even know to ask.

He's looking back in time at centuries of Marthas and Marys and Lazarus's (Lazari?  Lazaruses?....????) and Jews.  millions of Type As and Bs with questions, pain, death, disease, anger, confusion, sin, and holey, holey hearts.

and then finally, He's  looking forward in time.  but not hundreds of years forward (well yes, but not principally). just a matter of days forward.

the disciples didn't know that when Jesus made that reference to time, dusk was fast approaching. the sun was going down, and every single one of them that had just that day chosen to follow Him- even though they thought it would end in death- was about to ditch Him and run once they realized that it would undoubtedly end in His death. 

that friday night in Brazil, sharing that secret story for the first time… what a night.

looking down at a text that had never been spoken, looking back at years i am incapable of forgetting and all the questions they create, my mouth went completely dry.  somehow i choked my way through the whole thing, with a white-knuckled grip on the pulpit and a friend supporting me (emotionally AND physically) from behind.

the Martha side of me had already been through that conversation.  i've already thrown all those questions down, cried those tears, been through that whole scenario.  the brain part is done.

the Mary side of me is still…

it's still sitting there.  right there in the middle of the road.  everyone else can stay invisible for all i care right now.  i need those friends just as much as that Mary did- i need to know they are there… as long as they support me from behind and don't come between me and Jesus.

it's got to be enough for me that He is here.  He's got the answers to the questions that i don't even know to ask, and if i look back even farther, i'll see what Jesus was looking forward to, and maybe- just maybe- our eyes will meet just below that cross beam.   

throw the questions down at His feet, right there at the base of the Cross.

then look up just a bit and see the answer just above you.  the answer to every-shaped hole in every heart.  the answer to every question, asked and unasked.  the light for every darkness.

the best part is that there is room at the Cross for everyone who wants to come.  don't stand off down the road; come join me- there's room for all.

and they can stay as long as they need to. 

that's what i plan on doing.