Like Little Children

I have been sitting here this morning doing my prayers and wishing for sunshine. It is so gloomy and it does not hep my gloomy mood.

 You see, we had such a wonderful weekend. We had our four children here together, and it had been a long time since they were all together. We also had five of our seven grandchildren here, and I have been missing them, wishing we had had more time with them.

 But as I was feeling sorry for myself, and wishing for the sunshine to help me out of this mood, I started thinking of this past weekend, especially of this past Saturday morning. 

 I was sitting here doing my prayers, and my granddaughter Aleigha, who is 9, joined me. We were waiting for everyone to get ready to go to the store to finish buying what we needed for Easter. We started talking, and we talked about prayer. I told her how my favorite prayer was just talking to God. We talked about how she could just talk to God like she does to her mom and dad. We had a nice talk about prayer. 

 We talked about different things. It made me stop and think that sometimes we are in such a hurry that we do not stop and just visit with children. If we just take time and listen to them, if we just look at things through their eyes. . . Children are honest. Children trust. We must become like them. 

 Matt 18:3 says that "unless you become like little children, you can not enter the kingdom of heaven."
 
I truly believe that in our conversation, I really did not teach Aleigha anything. I believe she taught me. 

 Dear Lord, thank You for the beautiful time we shared. May I always remember to see through their eyes.

The Man After God's Own Heart

I have been reading 1 and 2 Samuel the past few days. The story of David always intrigues me—a man after God’s own heart. Because his story reads like a great epic novel, I find it easy to get lost in the story and fail to glimpse the reality of God in the story, even though God plays a pivotal and vital role. I can fall prey to viewing Him as a great literary character instead of the living God, both then and now.

Today is Good Friday, what those in the literary world would call the climax of the greatest love story ever told. The climax is the point of a story where the tension or action reaches its height; the crisis point of the plot.

After reading of Saul’s death and David’s rise to power, I reflected on Good Friday and how the greatest sacrifice changed my life and how this change differentiated me from the man “after God’s own heart.”

Because “God so loved the world that He gave His only Son” (John 3:16) and because Jesus prayed, “My Father, if this (crucifixion) cannot pass away unless I drink it, Your will be done,” I am blessed with the Holy Spirit living inside of me and continually praying for me.

Since I live in a post-crucifixion and resurrection world, I cannot fathom what it would be like to have to rely on a prophet to speak to me. If I want to know what God is telling me, all I need to do is listen.

This thought got me to thinking about David again. Before he acted on anything, he first sought the council of God. As I reflected on this, I realized that David was, indeed, a mighty man. I also realized some of the challenges of ancient Israel are not so different from the challenges modern Christians face when seeking the council of the Lord.

While Saul still reigned as king, God directed Samuel to anoint David as the new king of Israel. At this point, an evil spirit had already entered Saul. As time goes on and David gained popularity, King Saul became jealous and sought to kill David.

One thing that strikes me about David is how, even after being told he will be king, he still reveres Saul as the Lord’s anointed. He could very easily say to himself, “The Lord chose me to rule in place of the man, Saul, who is trying to kill me. I would do well to avenge myself by killing Saul, and become king. After all, that is what God wants. Wouldn’t I be justified in killing the king since he is trying to kill me?”

David’s men thought he should kill Saul when he had the chance. These are the rules of war; kill or be killed. Yet, David, justified though he may have been by human standards, sought nothing more than the will of God. He knew God did not need his help. He knew killing Saul would go against God’s will.

How did David know this? Simple. He asked.

Before David did anything, he sought the council of God.

“So David inquired of the Lord, saying, ‘Shall I . . .’”

Only after the Lord gave him an answer, did he go to a certain location or fight against a certain people. He knew God was with him because he asked. He did not go if God told him not to go.

(Imagine what would have happened had David acted without first consulting God. Fortunately for us, we don’t have to imagine. We simply have to wait until the 11^th chapter of 2 Samuel.)

This got me to thinking, how did David hear God’s voice? Where did he go? What did he do? After all, David did not have Jesus and the Holy Spirit yet. There was no temple yet and the Ark was not with him.

Then, I remembered two things:

1)      David had a priest with him. Chapter 21 and 22 of 1 Samuel tell the story of King Saul seeking Abiathar’s life. He seeks refuge with David and David tells him, “Stay with me; do not be afraid, for he who seeks my life seeks your life, for you are safe with me.”

 

2)      Back in Chapter 16 of 1 Samuel, we learn that after Samuel anoints David, “the Spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that day forward.”

David could hear the voice of God because he had a priest to consult and the Spirit of the Lord dwelling inside of him, much like we do today.

As I reflected upon this, I pictured David finding a quiet place to pray, bringing his petitions to God, and remaining rooted in his spot, silent and attentive until he heard God’s answer. It reminded me of my beloved Abbey of Gethsemani, walking in the woods, sitting in silence, waiting until I heard the voice of God.

We have that same potential and power right where we are. I miss the solitude of Gethsemani and the ease of experiencing God in those woods, but the truth of the matter is that I can hear Him just the same from my chair in my room where I type these words right now.

The problem I have is that, at Gethsemani, I have several days of quiet solitude to detox from the world and prepare myself to hear God’s voice. Here, in my everyday world, I have life waiting for me, the ticking clock on the wall reminding me of the responsibilities clamoring for my attention, the ringing phone reminding me of the outside world vying for my attention. Here, in my little world, life waits on the other side of the door, diminishing my time with God to minutes instead of days.

This is life. So, what can I do about it? I cannot run off to Gethsemani every time I long for God. I cannot take days off from life every time I need a boost. But, I can do little things. I can go for a walk and leave my phone at home. I can wake up a few minutes earlier and start my day before the rest of the world.

As my pastor suggests, I can start by taking just five more minutes for my prayer time. And, instead of closing my Bible, saying “amen,” then running out the door to begin the day, I can sit in silence, focus on my first true love, and wait for Him to speak to me. I may not hear Him every time, but at least I’m listening.

On this blessed Good Friday, I suggest we all take just five minutes to listen to the One who loved us enough to die for us. Don’t ask for anything today. Simply thank Him and just be in His presence.

 

The Cross on the Hill

After returning home from the Nazarene District Women’s Retreat back in late October 2015, I walked along the driveway with my dog, Bailey, talking to God about the trip and asking Him to keep me focused on Him so that I would not loose what I found during the retreat.

As I stared up at the cloudless fall sky, the bright, late afternoon sun shone on my face, blinding my eyes and warming my heart. I thought of the women who raised their hands up in worship. I watched them that final morning of the retreat. It was like they were little girls staring up at their daddy, holding their arms high up to him, waiting for him to pick them up and embrace them. That image of childlike adoration warmed my heart.

I thought about myself, the silent worshipper, the one who internalizes every word and thought and feeling. For me, worship is a silent and private matter. Too much noise and distraction pulls me away from the presence of my Father.

As I walked up the driveway back toward the house, with the sun rays reaching out to me, I lifted my head and turned my cheek to receive its warm kiss. The gesture reminded me of my little four-legged baby girl, Bailey, and how she closes her eyes and offers me her cheek to kiss. It is a tender moment, so precious to me. That same tenderness I share with my Father. This thought, too, warms my heart.

When I opened my eyes, I turned my head to look behind me. I thought about the “cemetery gate” (reference to Susie Sullenberg’s Saturday sermon) and how I was now standing just outside of the gate. “Help me keep my focus on You, Father, so that I keep walking forward and do not turn back.”

For years, I felt like I was standing and walking against a brick wall. I desperately wanted to move past it and knew there was a window or a door nearby, but I did not know how to get to it. I kept staring at the wall, trying over and over again to walk through it, but failed each time.

I have heard so many times about the difference between being saved and being sanctified. I understood the difference and I believe I have experienced both, but I was still stuck. I was not where I wanted to be nor where I knew God wanted me to be. But how do I get there? HOW? My heart was willing, but my flesh was weak. I just knew, if someone could explain the how to me in practical terms, I would do it gladly and finally be rid of that brick wall.

On Halloween night, during a comical lesson about goblins and Jack and the Beanstalk, the wall crumbled. He called me. “Now is the time. Not tomorrow. There is no tomorrow. Now.”

“BUT HOW!?!?” my heart cried out. I felt the desperation building up inside me. I hung on to Susie’s every word, waiting to for the step by step instructions. “God does not want to be number one in your life, He wants to BE your life.”
               

“BUT HOW???” I silently screamed to both Susie and Jesus. “Give my life to you? I’ve done that. Prayer? I’ve done that!”

I hate to show emotion in public, even in a setting like this, but I could not stop it. The desperation choked me like never before. “HOWWWW????” My analytical mind needed clarification.

I wrote my secret shame, the shackles keeping me imprisoned by the Legion, on my little index card. I stood and got in line to take my card and drop it in the makeshift coffin. I walked like a zombie, following the herd, yet still struggling to make sense out of the how and what was now going on inside me.

Just before I reached the first step. I felt a force pull me out of line and onto my knees. “Not yet,” He said. “We are not done here.”

I had not fully surrendered. I wept. I asked Him to take it, all of it. I told Him I knew I was unable to do it on my own. I have tried and failed too many times to count. I knew He needed to take it, but I didn’t know what exactly that meant or what that would look like. What will happen tomorrow or the next day when temptation comes back because it will.

But something miraculous happened on that step on my knees, feet away from the coffin. The wall fell. I still cannot explain why or how. I understand it was God, but that is all I know. I suppose that is all I need to know.

 As I walked up my driveway after returning home from that glorious retreat, visualizing the gate from which I had just emerged, another image entered my mind; the cross on the hill. It was not just any cross and it was not just any hill.

Before I got sick with cancer, I spent one week every October at the Abbey of Gethsemani in Trappist, Kentucky. After a day or two of detoxing from the world, I took a walk in the woods. Since I thrive on solitude, I often veered off the man made path. The last year I went was no different. That year was harder than ever before, though. My divorce was not yet final and I was going through extreme grief over what should have been and what was. I was sick, feeling very fatigued and sleeping most of the time. I was over a year away from finding out that it was cancer that caused me to be so sick.

I had spent most of my time at Gethsemani in my room sleeping. I was determined, though, to have my time in the woods with God before I left. These were always special occasions. God never failed to meet me and walk with me and teach me in those woods. We walked hand in hand and talked as old friends. I coveted these moments.

As I usually did, I veered off the trail. Once I began feeling too fatigued and noticed the sun fading, I headed back for the path, but got lost. The woods crowded deeper and higher around me, blocking out the sun. Darkness consumed me and I grew afraid.

After a short prayer, I saw a ray of sunlight and followed the light. I thought the light was directing me away from where the path should be, but something about that light filled me with peace and I felt safe in its presence.

After some time, I ended up at the top of the hill. The light rested on a cross. I knew God led me there. I stood in front of the cross and took it all in, everything that lead me to this spot. I was in awe.

Then, I looked up past the cross. From this spot on the top of the hill, I could see everything below so clearly. I saw the dark woods where I had come from and wondered how I ever made it through that. The light.

I saw the steeple from the abbey, where I had come from and where I needed to return.

I saw a clear field below and an old gravel road leading back to the abbey. I saw my way “home.”

 After a few moments sitting on the bench in front of the cross taking it all in, I made my way down a narrow path to the open field below. When I got to the dirt road, God told me to stop and look behind me. I did.

“Remember this moment,” He told me. “Remember everything I have shown you. That dark field is your life right now. I know you are afraid. I know you feel like you will never get out of the woods. But, just like in those woods, keep your eyes on Me. When you get discouraged and think you will never get out of the darkness, focus on Me. I will lead you. You may not know where you are going. Trust Me. Follow Me.

“Now look at that spot where you exited the woods and look at the clearing all around you. Remember the peace you feel right now, safe and sure of your path. Just as I led you out of the darkness of the woods, I will lead you out of the darkness of your life.

“Now, look up. See the cross on the top of the hill? Look at how it rises above the trees and how the light shines upon it. That is Me. I am there. I can see you in the woods and I can see you in the open field. Follow My light and you will never be led astray. I will always be right here, and right here, and right here. And right here and here and here and here.”

As He said each “right here,” He revealed His image in the woods, on the hill, at the spot where I walked out of the woods, out in the open field, directly in front of me, directly behind me, to my right, and to my left. He took my hand in His and we walked, hand in hand, back to the abbey.

My lesson that year was trust, something I struggled with after the divorce. Something, I admit, I still struggle with today.

On that spot on my driveway, He told me to look behind me. I turned and looked. I saw those woods and that cross in the distance, on top of the hill.

“I told you I would lead you out.”

Wonderful photo of my cross that I found online by Michael Lander.

The public entrance of the Abbey of Gethsemani.

My beloved Abbey.

One of the retreat rooms where I spent much time that year sleeping, reading, and writing.

Ridding Our Lives of Weeds

This morning I have been doing some yard work. Last week, I spent a whole morning getting one of my flower beds ready. I spent countless hours pulling weeds and grass. This morning, as I was getting ready to plant my sweet Olive Tree, I noticed new grass trying to come out in my flower bed. Of course, I did not hesitate to pull it out.

Now, I am resting on my porch and drinking a cup of coffee, reflecting on my flower bed, my Olive Tree, and that stubborn grass. It is like our souls. We go to confession and we break bad habits. At least, we try. We have a beautiful soul with Jesus in it. It is like that beautiful smell of my Olive Tree. The grass is like old habits that try to come back, or our quick or negative reaction to someone or something.

Just as if I want a beautiful flower bed, I must constantly be on the lookout for weeds and unwanted grass. We must be on the lookout for those unwanted sins. We want to have a beautiful soul where Jesus can reside. During this Lenten season, we must make an effort to really try to give up a bad habit, or maybe develop a good habit. Pray more, be nicer to someone who irritates us, something that gets us closer to Jesus.

Jesus, live within me. Show me what it is I must change in order to have a beautiful soul for you to reside. May all I do today be my prayer to you.

Everything I Need to Know About Love, I Learned From My Dog

For most of my life, I have never been a very emotional person. I was never one for public displays of affection or cuddling within the privacy of my home. I have often found it difficult to vocalize my true feelings. That is, until I met a girl named Bailey who stole my heart.

There is nothing I love more than snuggling with her and kissing her. I would take her with me everywhere I went if I could get away with it. I tell her I love her dozens of times a day. Nothing in this world makes me as happy as this little girl makes me. I call her my life, my angel, my heart. She is, for me, what no human being has ever been. I am one of those crazy dog people who prefers her company over the company of most anyone else. My relationship with her is easy, unforced, and natural. Loving her requires no effort.

Loving her has also taught me a great deal about God’s love for me:

I love how she wants to be right by my side. Even when we sleep, she wants touch me. I imagine God loves it when we always want to be close to Him and feel Him right by our side.

I love how she gets so excited when I come home, whether I’ve been away for a few minutes, hours, or days. I imagine God loves it when we get that excited to find ourselves in His presence.

I love how excited she gets when I suggest we go for a walk. I love watching her explore the things around her. I imagine God loves it when we get excited about walking with Him and exploring new adventures while yoked to His side.

I love it when she stops to smell the flowers. I imagine God loves it when we stop to enjoy His creation, the seemingly small things that make life so sweet.

I love watching her prance around the yard, ears pointed straight up, head held high, and her little butt wiggling in such a way as if she knows how cute she is, having a ball and completely in charge of her surroundings. I imagine God loves watching His children enjoying the life He gave them. I imagine His heart being so full of love for us the way my heart is so full of love for Bailey when I watch her. I imagine Him smiling as He watches us.  

I love how she wanders off in the yard, busy exploring, but then, once she realizes she hasn’t seen me in a while, she stops to look for me and comes running to me when she finds me. I imagine God loves it when we realize we have been away from His presence for too long and come running back to His side once again.

I love when she runs at full speed up the driveway then stops and looks back with that look on her face that says, “Did you see, that, Mommy? I was fast!” I imagine God loves it when we get so excited about something we did well and look for God’s approval saying, “Did you see that, Daddy? Did you see?”

I love how she comes to remind me when it’s time for dinner or time for her night-night treats. She never forgets. I imagine God loves it when we never neglect to take our needs to Him.

I love it how she comes to get me when she’s ready for bed. When she’s ready for bed, it’s time for me to go to bed, too. I imagine God loves it when we cannot go to bed without first coming to Him.

I love it when she’s decided I slept long enough and wakes me up. I imagine God loves it when we realize we’ve decided to start our day with Him.

I love it when she smiles. I imagine God loves to see us get excited about things. I imagine He loves to see us smile. I bet it warms His heart.

I love watching Bailey play with other dogs. She knows no enemy. Everyone is her friend and there is nothing she loves more than chasing and being chased. I imagine God loves it when we show love for ALL His sons and daughters and enjoy fellowship with each other.

I even love to watch Bailey beg for food. That look in her eye and that silly little whimper, acting as if she hadn't eaten in days. I imagine God loves when we come to Him with all our heart's desires, even when we beg.

I love it when she looks at me. She will simply stare with such a look of profound love. It melts my heart. I imagine God loves when we stop what we are doing, and turn to look at Him with such awestruck love.

I love that she doesn’t want to go too far away without me. She will not walk off if I am sitting down. She will do all she can to get my attention and get me to walk with her. I imagine God loves it when we seek Him first before making a move. I imagine God loves it when we refuse to walk away from Him.

I even love when she’s being ornery. Sometimes, even dogs have a bad day or get into a bad mood. Nothing she does can change how much I love her, though. I imagine God loves us even at our worst. I imagine He understands our bad days and loves us just as much anyway!

I even love her during those rare moments she would rather be alone than be with me. It breaks my heart, but I love her just the same, and get excited when she returns to cuddle with me once again. I imagine it breaks God’s heart when we choose to walk away from Him, even if He knows we will be right back. I imagine any time away from us breaks His heart. I imagine He still loves us just the same and gets just as excited when we return to cuddle with Him once again.

God has taught me a lot about love through Bailey. Every time He teaches me a new lesson through her, I can’t help but smile and be grateful for His unconditional love for me.

 

Bailey's smile. Having a ball playing with other dogs.

Bailey and Momma snuggles. My favorite.



Bailey snuggles.



Bailey begging food from Grandma.

Bailey strutting along, checking out all the sights and smells at Landa Park.

Bailey having fun doing what she loves best, playing with a new friend.

 

Bailey strutting around the yard with her stick.

Bailey needing some alone time.



Overcoming the Dark Night

Sitting here this morning, enjoying this beautiful morning. Have been reflecting on the past few weeks.

 We had dinner with our daughter, Renee, a few days ago and she asked me why I have not posted anything. (I knew she wanted me to post so she could put it on the blog she created for us ). I really did not answer her. I just made a comment that she could post some of what I had written before.
I had been asked that same question a few time before, but I did not want to tell them the truth.

What was the real reason I had not posted? The answer- I have been spirituality blocked. I can say I was going through a very dark night. Oh, I have prayed my morning prayers, gone to mass, but I have felt drained. Me, who went to spiritual training, who directs others. Yes, I followed the directions I give to others. I knew that even though I did not feel Him, He was with me, that at times like these, He is closer to us. 

 But, I did not like the feeling. I tried listening to my music, being in nature, all the things that help me, but, nothing helped. I took a wonderful picture when we were in New Mexico of a cross made of snow. I would look at it for direction. I had wanted to use that picture for a reflection. I thought it would be a beautiful reflection, but I received nothing. 

 This morning, I woke up to sunshine on my face and decided to come outside, drink my morning coffee, and do my prayers. I decided to just sit in His presence. That was my prayer this morning.

As I was just being in His presence, a little bird came and sat on my rocker. ( I tired to take his picture, but he flew away. I should have thought of taking a selfie). It was as if the Holy Spirit was saying "Here I am. I have never left you."

 As I sit here and reflect on all this, I believe that the Lord wanted me to experience this darkness, that I may be able to understand when others tell me they are going through a dark night.

It has been my winter, and now I can the spring. 

At times like these, we must make sure that we do not give up. We must pray even more. We must spend time in His presence. 

 My Lord, thank You for being with me through this journey. I know You were always with me. I may not understand why I am experiencing those feelings, but I know You have a purpose. May I never loose sight that my purpose in life is to get closer to You and lead other You. Help me know what You want me to do. Help me in my journey in this life.

Jesus Laughing

Just over a year ago, my sisters and I got together to address invitations to our Mom's 90 birthday celebration. We had so much fun. It was a night full of laughter.

At one point, it could have been different, but it wasn't. Kathy had ordered a dress for the party and she had told me it did not fit, so I asked her to bring it so I could see it. She had told me she was going to go on a very serious diet so she could get into the dress. My intent for her to bring the dress was that I would try it and if it fit, I would buy it from her. That way, I would not have to worry about finding one for me. 

She forgot to bring the dress, so she called her son and asked him being the dress. (She also told us she had ordered 2 more dresses and was waiting for them).

I tried the dress and it fit, so I asked her if I could buy it. She hesitated to answer and what did I say? Smiling, I kind of joked and said,"Do you really think you will loose that much weight by the party?" My other sister said,"it will take you a year to loose that much weight ." We all just burst out laughing. 

 Then, my other sister and I realized what we had said, and told Kathy she was a good sport. She could have gotten angry, but she laughed. We all laughed and had a very joyful moment.

It made me realize that sometimes things are said without thought and people really do not have malicious intentions, but we automatically think the wrong thing and get hurt, angry, or upset. We need to look at things differently. We all need laughter in our lives. We need to stop taking things so seriously.

I have a picture of Jesus laughing in our bathroom. Why in our bathroom? Because everyone goes in there and they can see it. 

 A lovely lady (LC) always posts funny posts on Facebook and I love to see them. They bring joy to my life. Thank you, Sister, for giving us laughter. 

 The picture of Jesus laughing should remind us that we need smiles and laughter in our lives. Jesus laughed, and so should we. 

 Enjoy today, no matter what happens, and find the beauty of it. God made today. Jesus, thank you for giving us the ability to laugh. Help us to laugh at everything that happens to us today.

 

 

The Sin of Achan

When I get into a routine of reading the Bible every morning, the stories oftentimes resemble nothing more than literary entertainment. I can grasp universal truths the same as I can when reading the Grapes of Wrath or The Scarlet Letter, but fail to comprehend God’s unique message specific for me.

Every once in a while, though, God shows up unbidden, speaking to me personally, revealing a truth either forgotten, neglected, or never heard before; a truth I need to hear in that moment, even if I am presently unaware of my need until after He speaks.  

The Book of Joshua, and more specifically, the story of the Israelite conquest of Jericho followed by the initial defeat at Ai, spoke to me in this otherworldly way, creating a sense of awe and peace within me.

Before I begin my story, I must first back up and relate a recent dream which left me feeling a bit sad and hopeful at the same time. Without getting into the strange idiosyncrasies of the dream, the result was that, in the dream, I felt an unbelievable peace, contentment, and love unlike I have ever truly known in my own life.

I longed to feel that same intense sense of peace and contentment in my real life, to feel like all is right in the world and not like something is missing and just out of my reach. Still, it’s not as if I mourned something I could only attain in my dream. I am not overcome by grief. It is more of a whimsical thought, “Wouldn’t that be nice.”

Now, back to the clarity given to me while re-reading the story of the Conquest of Jericho:

Before God ever led the Israelites out of the desert, He gave them detailed instructions on what to do, and how to live. He told the people that as long as they followed these rules, God would live in their presence, and they would live in peace. However, if they disobeyed God, His spirit would flee from them.

God gave the Israelites strict orders on how to defeat Jericho and what to do once the city was conquered. They followed the word of God precisely and the walls of Jericho fell. They conquered the city.

After this amazing victory, the men of Israel set out to defeat Ai. However, “the men of Ai struck down about thirty-six of their men, and pursued them from the gate as far as Shebarim and struck them down on the descent, so the hearts of the people melted and became as water.”

God promised to go before them and to defeat their enemies if they did as God commanded. They obeyed at Jericho. What happened?

Joshua fell on his face before God, and God told Joshua that Israel sinned by taking some of the banned things from out of Jericho. Achan admitted to taking silver and gold and hiding them in his tent. In order to restore Israel, all of Achan’s household, including his sons and daughters and livestock, were stoned to death and set on fire.

After the Israelites completed this brutal task, God restored His grace upon Israel, and Israel defeated Ai.

It is often easy to gloss over this story and to ignore these warnings because, after all, we Christians are not bound by the ancient laws of Torah. We are blessed with the Holy Spirit living inside us. We are blessed with Jesus and two thousand plus years of church history and advanced civilization.  In our modern era, no Christian in his or her right mind would dare stone another Christian for committing a sin we could have very easily committed ourselves.

Didn’t Jesus teach us instead to forgive? I understand that’s how the world worked back then, but it certainly isn’t relevant today . . . is it?

I used to think of this story, and others like it, as nothing more than examples of our dire need for a Savior. This may be so, but there is so much more meaning in this text, something still so relevant for us today.

We may not be required to follow every letter of the ancient law, but we are still called to be obedient to God, whatever form that takes. There are Christian absolutes—sin which is sin for every person—the “thou shalt nots.” There are also sins which are only sins for the individual. If God tells me not to do something and I do it, or if God tells me to do something and I don’t do it, this, too, is sin.

Just like the Israelites, we have the assurance that as long as we obey God, He will be with us and guide us. Once we sin, God’s presence flees from us because God cannot be where sin dwells.

We may not stone a man and his family to death because of sin, but we are still expected to completely destroy sin and everything it touches if we want to get back into the grace of God.

For us today, Achan is our sin, whatever that sin may be. In this story, God is telling us that we must rid ourselves of this sin completely.

·         We must confess our sin as Achan did. But confession is not enough if we allow the sin to remain.

·         We must get rid of the sin itself—the silver and gold (or lying, or infidelity, or pornography, or drunkenness, or any act of disobedience). But we cannot stop there.

·         We must get rid of everything sin touches—Achan and his entire household (begin to tell the truth, get rid of the pornographic images, throw out the liquor, or stop second guessing God’s call). But, that, too, is not enough.

·         We must then rid our lives of it forever—burn the silver and gold and Achan and his entire household (lie no more, look no more, drink no more, do as God tells you when He tells you).

Bringing it all together:

For the longest time, God has been telling me to trust Him. I begin to, but then panic hits and I try to take charge of things I cannot control. I want assurances. I want proof. I want it now. God showed me that I will never have the peace and contentment of my dream if I can never learn to trust Him. Not trusting God when He tells me time after time to trust Him is a sin, my sin.

If I want to fully live in God’s presence, if I want that peace and contentment to be real in my life and not simply real in a dream, I must confess my sin, pray for forgiveness, ask for help, and trust Him.

No one said getting rid of sin would be easy. I’m sure the people of Israel did not kill Achan and his household without emotion. I’m sure Joshua did not order this act without tears. I’m sure people loved them and mourned for them and mourned for what they must do. It could not have been easy to throw those stones, but they did it because it had to be done in order to save the Israelite nation. Had they not done the hard work, Israel would have been annihilated.

It is not easy for us to give up sin, even when we know we must. Addiction and habit are powerful strongholds. But the reward is so worth the effort.

Joshua 6-7 (NASB)

Addendum:

After writing this post, I heard the retelling of a sermon about stoning. I always imagined the condemned surrounded by a large group holding large stones. When the call was given, the group would hurl rocks at the condemned. I imagined this to be an excruciatingly painful and slow death.

During this sermon, the pastor, a student of religious history, portrayed what took place during a real stoning. The condemned was forced to lay in a man sized hole dug in the ground. Someone would throw a large rock at the condemned man’s head, most likely killing him instantaneously. The others would throw their rocks on the body, covering the body.

In essence, the condemned man laid in his own grave. The initial blow killed him. The others buried him with rocks.

As a lover of religious history myself, I share this bit of insight, assured that it does not take away from the lesson God taught me through the story of Achan. If anything, the fact that I heard this story so soon after my lesson proves to me the validity of what He wanted me to learn.

Lessons from Nature

While sitting in my comfy chair, I looked outside and watched the birds. I bought a cute bird feeder when we visited the Amish in Pennsylvania the summer before last. We often have lots of birds feeding here. At times, two different kinds feed at the same time, and at times, they take turns.

 

I have tried to take pictures through the window because I do not want to disturb them by opening the door. However, these pictures never turn out.

 

I took one of two different birds sitting on a chair, and, because of the screen in the window, the picture only came out looking so-so.

 

Watching the birds made me reflect on humankinds. Why can we not learn from nature? Why can we not accept our differences? Why is it so hard to share? Why is it so hard to work side by side with each other?

Lord help us accept each other as we are. Help us live in harmony. Help us accept our differences. Help us to have a heart like You. Jesus, live inside of me.

 

 

Looking Beyond the Surface

How great is our God!!!

I was a spiritual companion on an ACTS retreat. Our theme was ,"Fear not, Daughter of Zion, behold the King is coming."John 12:15

I knew that Daughter of Zion meant "Jerusalem" and that it was a fulfillment of a promise, but how could we relate the scripture to the talks? I had been praying, reflecting, trying to read all the material I could get my hands on.

Then one morning, a lady I had been trying to contact to ask if they could do our mini retreat, returned my call. She said she could not do the mini retreat, but asked for the scripture, and without thought said, " Hope - how beautiful. I will have to remember that."
 

Wow! So true! That scripture is hope. Why was I having so much trouble? Did our Lord want me to spend more time in prayer, more time with Him? Or was I just not seeing beyond the surface?

How often do we just see the obvious, but fail to see the real picture? How often do we judge by looks alone? How often do we take time to think and analyze things?

Open my eyes, Lord, so I can see you. Open my ears so I can hear you. Open my mind, Lord, so I can understand. Open my heart, Lord, so I can love like You. 

 Jesus, thank You for opening my mind, and touching my heart .