Author Archives: S. Rae Wood

Tribute to Barry Lubbe

Posted on by
Reply

In the church world, we have an oxymoronic reference known as “church hurt.” It is the unfortunate experience of many. It means we feel hurt by the church. In truth, we are hurt by people who happen to be in the church. When the people who hurt us are leaders, we tend to hold the institution responsible. Sadly, it can lead to anger and ultimately, the personal exodus from the church.

On the brink of my personal exodus, God spoke clearly: “the church is My idea, not man’s.” I was therefore resolved to re-enter the church knowing it was the only path for healing. God and His church didn’t hurt me. People did. This truth, which helped me separate offense with the church from offense with people, propelled me toward the church, specifically Living Faith church. I am so grateful it did!

I first visited Living Faith church in January 2013. I sat in the back and observed with a bit of fear and trepidation. It was an awkward Sunday filled with uncertainty and insecurity. Is this place safe? Is God here? Will I be welcome? I returned the following Sunday and boldly sat on the first row with a friendly and familiar face from the past. I was embraced and welcomed! Shortly thereafter, I met a woman named Grace, who greeted me with a hug. Would I find grace here?

As the service began, Pastor Barry, who at that time sat on the stage in an overstuffed orange chair, gave me a little wave. It was weird! Taken a bit off guard, I asked the familiar face next to me if he was indeed waving at me. He was! So I waved back. He then proceeded to walk from the stage to meet me. He shook my hand and asked my name. Interestingly, it was another six months before I knew his name. But he knew my name. And every Sunday thereafter, he made a point to greet me by name.

In the same service, God spoke intimately to me: “I will demonstrate My power to you in this church.” And so, Living Faith became my church home.

Because I did not know Pastor Barry’s name, I referred to him as Father Pastor. It is how I distinguished him from his son who was the primary speaker, at that time. It was a fitting reference because that’s what he was. A father. His simple act of greeting me by name every Sunday was one of the most healing salves along my journey from “church hurt.”

I met Christ when I was 28 years old. He disputed my atheism with Truth and shared with me the immeasurable love of the Father, my Father. Coming out of atheism, I began to rejoice in and declare everyday that there is a God in heaven. Yes, there is a God in heaven! But there is more. There is a God in heaven and He knows my name. He knows me and loves me in spite of all I have done.

And so, Father Pastor, who greeted me by name every Sunday, became to me a representation of my Father in heaven who knows my name. His presence and acceptance became my safety in the church. I was safe to worship and celebrate the glory of God with and in the church. Healing began.

Barry Lubbe

I regret not sharing with him how instrumental he was in helping me heal. How God used him mightily to represent the Father’s love, power, and authority on earth. So many of us have this story! By now, he knows and has been assured of his faithfulness by the Father Himself. It is not good-bye, but until next we meet. I look forward to celebrating and worshipping with Father Pastor once again.

The Handshake

Posted on by
3

I love a good handshake. My dad taught me how to shake hands. I’ve watched him do it all my life. It’s a simple act: big smile, eye contact, firm grip, friendly greeting. This was reinforced in the military where I learned the importance of the greeting of the day which consists of eye contact followed by good morning, good afternoon, or good evening.

This is how I greet people with love and respect. A handshake and the greeting of the day. My more intimate friends and family prefer hugs. I love a good hug! But I also appreciate a good handshake. It communicates value, dignity, power, strength, partnership. In some cultures or contexts, a handshake is more honorable than a signed contract. To me, it’s how I communicate love to friends, acquaintances, and even strangers. Physical touch ranks high on my list of love languages so the extension of touch is the equivalent of love.

Did Jesus, the God of Love, shake hands? I don’t know. The Bible doesn’t record a specific handshake, that I can find. But there are several references to the power of His touch. The story of Jesus cleansing a leper has always deeply moved me. Simply paraphrased:

A leper reverently approached Jesus seeking healing. Jesus stretched out His hand and touched the leper while declaring His willingness — perhaps eagerness— to oblige. Matthew 8:2-3

There is so much to unpack in these two verses! For now, my focus is on the outstretched hand, much like a handshake.

How could Jesus so easily touch a leper? I don’t do well with other people’s bodily fluids or injuries. My poor nephews! What they must think when I gently turn them away to their mother or father to fix their runny noses! If this is how I react to my beautiful and darling toddler nephews, how would I react to a leper? (I actually know how I would react. I encountered lepers several years ago, but that’s a different story.)

I have the great privilege of leading international programs for prisoners. The purpose of our programs is positive identity transformation which leads to behavioral change both inside prisons and outside upon release. We believe this is the solution to community restoration and reduce recidivism. This great privilege allows me to travel all over world and interact with prisoners of all cultures. Prisons are not pretty places especially in the developing world. They can be dark and dank and plagued with disease. Prisoners are often malnourished and lack basic hygiene items, like soap and clean water. The prison cells may be poorly ventilated and are often overcrowded. It’s a feeding ground for HIV, TB, and numerous other viruses, and bacterial infections. While a runny nose normally grosses me out, I find no higher honor than entering prisons to interact with these men and women.

I often ask, “What do I have to offer these men and women behind bars?” Many are neglected, without hope, unloved, starving, physically and emotionally unhealthy, bitter, angry and aggressive. I am not the answer to their circumstances. I cannot provide legal counsel or advocacy. I don’t have the power to pardon or grant amnesty. I can’t restore their relationships or bring them closure. I have no vaccines or medicines. No food or physical sustenance. Though I come to share about Jesus, I’m not a profound speaker who can inspire faith and hope. My presence and purpose isn’t to disciple or teach. So what can I give?

I have meditated on Jesus cleansing the leper for years. Lepers were outcast from society. They were not looked upon pleasantly. Despised and forsaken to their physical misery and emotional prisons. I imagine young children pointing or running in horror at the sight of a leper. Adults fleeing in fear at the thought of contracting such a contagious disease. No physical touch or companionship. The stigma of leprosy is for life.

Like the leper, the prisoner has a similar fate. Outcast. Stigmatized. Unloved. Untouched. Left to rot outside of society’s view.

But Jesus changed everything for the leper with one touch. It may have been the first touch the leper had felt in years. I can only imagine the overwhelming sensation and joy of finally being touched by another human being after years of grotesque ostracization.

With one touch, before a word was spoken, Jesus communicated value, dignity, and love. The disease and the stigma departed. Jesus didn’t pause before touching the leper. Jesus didn’t stop to wonder if He would contract the disease. He didn’t see the rotting body parts nor was he disgusted by bodily fluids. Instead, He was compelled by Love to love. I believe He loved the leper in the way he needed it most. Physical touch in the form of an outstretched hand.

Why God allows me to visit prisons around the world is beyond my mortal mind. He knows my quirks and my limits. But I count it a privilege to give what I have, to give what my earthly and my heavenly father modeled for me to give. A smile, eye contact, a firm handshake, and the greeting of the day. It may not seem like much in the grand scheme of a man’s life, but it’s the love I have to give. I consider it my blessing to make this connection and express to these men and women how pleased I am to meet them and thankful to be in their presence. May it communicate value, dignity, and the love of Christ. For I am compelled by this love to see beyond the diseases, the injuries, the traumas, the poor hygiene, the sweaty faces and palms. Instead I see what every living man and woman so desperately seeks. Love, acceptance, and forgiveness. I don’t know what they’ve done. But I know what I’ve done. And still, I am loved, accepted, and forgiven through Christ.

This is why I value the handshake and gladly extend my hand to all.

The God who Breathes

Posted on by
1

Moving and settling into the New Year, God has been speaking to me about breathing. It seems fitting considering the exceptionally cold winter this year. It’s hard to ignore the winter breath that escapes when I walk outside!

1

While one might assume that life is all about choices, the miracle that is our respiratory system disagrees. This is what fascinates me about breathing. It’s is an involuntary response to life. We don’t choose to breathe, but it’s necessary for our survival. Not only that, the nuances of our breath, or breathing patterns, can be evidence of our state of mind or physical well being. For example, in this cold weather breathing can be challenging with congested sinuses. I also find breathing challenging any time I attempt a light afternoon jog! Perhaps this is evidence my physical state could use some improvements.

Though breathing is an involuntary response to life, external and internal factors affect it. Consider the impact of emotions. We experience a rapid rate of breath when fear /adrenaline / anxiety / stress kick in. Or, when we’re in a state of calm, peace, and spiritual rest, our breathing slows and deepens. These are extreme references and other physiological variables play a role, but studies show that respiration is altered by all sorts of emotions. Conversely, studies also indicate that we can alter our emotions by adjusting our breathing patterns.

I learned the impact of breathing from Buddhists monks in Nepal. I was working with a missionary family who had an outreach to Tibetan Buddhists. To better understand Buddhism, we took an immersion course in Buddhism at a lovely monastery. My intent for this course was to learn how to communicate with Buddhists and bridge the gap to Christ. It was an incredible experience and I had many powerful encounters with Jesus. We would spend hours sitting on little pillows practicing meditation and breathing. Through these exercises I learned how to quiet my body and my mind through intentional breathing. I learned how to focus. I learned how to step into my “prayer closet” and into stillness amidst the chaos around me.

God has been reminding me of this kind of intentional breathing; of the value of breathing with Him, at His pace, instead of my own. Yes, our God breathes.

There are two significant moments relayed in scripture of God breathing. The first is in the beginning. In Genesis 2:7:

Then the Lord God formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being.

The second significant occurrence of God breathing is after Jesus declared, “It is finished.” In His resurrected state, he appears to the disciples. We read in John 20:21-22 (emphasis mine):

So Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you; as the Father has sent Me, I also send you.” And when He had said this, He breathed on them and *said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”

As evidenced in both of these passages of Scripture, when God breathes, life is birthed. He breathes peace within us. And with peace, we have authority over our emotions and our response to life’s circumstances. I believe that we are intended to breathe that peace, power, authority, and life into the world. Into ourselves as well as others.

That God breath – just like our natural breath – is always with us. God is ever present in the most intimate of ways. There is an element of intimacy to breathing. Think about how near God must have been to the first person to breath life into him. Or how near Jesus was to the disciples when He released the Holy Spirit. God is as near as our breath.

There’s an Old Testament passage — 1 Kings 19:1-12 — that I often run to when stress is high and I’m out of breath. When the mountain of tasks seems to overwhelm. When the chaos around me feels unrelenting and I begin to retreat into the darkness of negativity. In those moments, I remember Elijah on Mount Horeb. To put it in context, Elijah is on the run. He’s just witnessed God bring fire from heaven marking a great victory. God is clearly with him! Yet, a mortal threat against his life sends him packing. He’s fearful and tired and just wants to hide. Eventually, he finds himself holed up in a cave. I’ve been in that cave of negative thoughts and emotions. It’s a dark place. This is where Elijah found Himself. It is also where he found God.

I’m comforted by the words of St. Porphyrios, “Do not fight to expel the darkness from the chamber of your soul. Open a tiny aperture for light to enter and the darkness will disappear.”

God made himself known to Elijah in the cave and said, “What are you doing in here? I’m not in here. Come to where I am.” Or as Jesus said centuries later, “Come to me all who are weary and heavy-laden.”

Elijah then has a revelation in God’s invitation. This is captured in verses 11-12. If you’ll allow me some interpretive license:

Elijah saw a great and strong wind was rending the mountains and breaking the rocks. It was chaos around him. An absence of control. “Don’t focus on the storm. I’m not in the wind.” And after the wind, Elijah experienced an earthquake. The ground unsettled beneath his feet and his foundation rocked. His direction was lost. “Don’t focus on the earthquake. I’m not in the earthquake.” After the earthquake a fire ignited. It was overwhelming and destructive like those all-consuming negative thoughts. “Don’t focus on the fire. I’m not in the fire.”  And after the fire a sound of a gentle blowing. “Focus here. I am the gentle blowing. The still small voice. The whisper in your ear. The intimate breath on your face.”

Breathe with Me. Breathe as I breathe. Breathe Me in. Breathe out Life.

If we breathe out what we breathe in, then breathe deeply of the Lord. Lift your eyes with every inhale. See the miracles of life around you as you exhale. Then, breathe deeper.

Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. Praise the Lord! (Psalm 150:6)

Open Your Mouth

Posted on by
1

During a Sunday morning prayer service, the leader shared imagery of a river overflowing with life. We are rivers of life, she said. The implication is that we have great opportunity — perhaps responsibility — to offer abundant life from the depths of Christ’s love within us. That love enables us to influence situations and circumstances. To bring light into darkness. Life from death.

As we began to pray and worship, my ears started to tickle and I found myself metaphorically thumbing through scripture on my iPhone.  I was searching for Isaiah 43:19, where God says

“”Behold, I will do something new, Now it will spring forth; Will you not be aware of it? I will even make a roadway in the wilderness, Rivers in the desert.”

My focus and ensuing meditation was of God making rivers in the desert, in the dry places. Dry places may refer to the heart, the mind, or the natural and created world. Yet, I kept hearing the words, “open your mouth.” What does that mean? I wondered. My conversation with Father God continued in this fashion: “Open your mouth,” He’d say. I hear you, Father God, but I have know idea how this relates to rivers in the desert! Oh, how God must chuckle with me!

Open your mouth!With a little time, a little patience, a little more worship, and a lot of listening, His Word became clear.

I forget sometimes how God has blessed me to see and experience His presence around the world. Not just in my home, my church, or in my neighborhood, but around the world. In my young 11 years as a disciple of Jesus, I have compiled a chest full of stories and experiences of God’s transforming power. My chest is overflowing and God continues to fill it. I forget sometimes the gift I have in these stories. I didn’t play any significant part in transformation, but I am and have been strategically placed to collect stories. Though I marvel and share my collection with close friends, I forget to open my mouth to wider circles and share the majesty and wonder of God’s transforming work in the world. To share the new things, the new creations; the roadways He makes and the rivers He flows through dry places.

I have met Josephs and Daniels who were persecuted for their faith. Sometimes beaten and imprisoned. By grace, they found themselves in the audience of the king and other high ranking government officials planting seed for Christ.

I have met men and women who broke their bindings to other gods and “religions” after dreaming of Jesus or after a supernatural experience of His love.

I have visited some of the darkest places on earth and found the Light of Jesus present and available. In these places, God is transforming lives. He is breaking the influence of anger, murder, rape, violence (despite what we see in the news). He is raising up outcasts named ‘criminal’ and ‘convict’ as light bearers to influence the darkness. Yes, God still uses the foolish to shame the wise, the weak to shame the strong, the base and despised things so that no one may boast (1 Corinthians 1:27-28).

Open your mouth…and share with the world the new things I am doing. Share the new life I am creating. See and tell of the roadways in the wilderness and the rivers in the desert. I am building a garden of life and light; rivers are flowing. Do you see? Will you share?

What the world needs to know — is desperate to know— is that new things and new life outnumber old things. I believe the word God spoke to me is not for me alone. It is for all who know and taste the goodness of God. We have a voice greater than any government, news outlet, or angry mob. And we have the technology to share it around the world. What if we opened our mouths and saturated social media with praise for our great God instead of hatred for humankind?  What if we shared stories of transformation in Christ instead of our woes? Could we influence the media, the nation, the world? Could we influence our neighbors?

God has “given waters in the wilderness and rivers in the desert, to give drink to [His] chosen people” ( Isaiah 43:20). Why? So we will declare His praise! (Isaiah 43:21)

Open your mouth. Share of the good news and the new things God is doing.

The God Who Stoops

Posted on by
2

Lately, I find myself consumed with the “small” actions of God. I roll them over and over in my mind. On the surface, they seem rather menial. The God Who Walks. The God Who Runs. But my meditations are revealing new and beautiful depths of God. The kind of depths that draw praise from my lips and worship from my spirit and body. I am amazed by who He is and what He does and I am honored to share my recent meditation of The God Who Stoops.

john_william_waterhouse_-_the_shrine

“The Shrine” by John W. Waterhouse

To stoop is to bend the head or body forward and downward. For example, one might stoop to pick something up or smell a rose. One might also stoop out of deference or submission descending from a superior rank, dignity, or status (Merriam-Webster). In modern language, we may be more apt to use ‘stoop’ to refer to lowering oneself morally, as in she stooped to adultery.

Interestingly, in my every day life, “stoop” is not a word I use or even hear. My first inclination when hearing the word was to apply it to the more derogatory definition. Naturally, when I read of God stooping, my curiosity piqued. Why did God stoop? Surely He never lowered Himself morally! He is the standard of morality. So, what does it mean when God stoops? If God stoops, should I stoop?

This meditation begins in the book of John, chapter 8, verses 1-11. I have always heard this passage referenced as the story of the adulterous woman. I’m neither a bible scholar nor a literary scholar, but I suggest this is a misleading title. At first glance, the reader (including me) presumes the following scripture verses are about adultery and the woman is the object or the antagonist of the story. In truth, as I dig into this passage, the woman plays the smallest role. The antagonist is religion. Jesus is the protagonist and grace is the theme. Perhaps this blog is better titled “The Grace of Stooping.”

At this time in history, the disciples are still struggling with Jesus’s identity as Messiah. To the world, Jesus has a reputation as a teacher. Unlike modern, western educators, ancient teachers in the east assumed a sitting posture to teach, though typically from an elevated platform. When I read this passage, I envision Jesus sitting in a slightly raised position in the temple when suddenly, religious leaders bring a woman into the court interrupting His teaching to initiate an execution.

I imagine the woman was terrified and feeling alone and isolated. All eyes focused on her. Perhaps there was pointing and murmuring as she faced her accusers and prepared for the worse. I can relate to feeling accused and isolated as fingers point and hurtful remarks are whispered. As the religious leaders demand this woman’s stoning, Jesus makes an interesting move.

He doesn’t hop on the condemnation bandwagon. Nor does He stand to protect or defend this woman from her accusers. Instead, He stoops. In silence. Jesus moves to a position lower than his students, lower than the religious leaders, and lower than the woman accused of stooping to adultery. I find this movement significant. From His conception — even before — Jesus lowered Himself from Heaven to elevate us into the Kingdom of God.

The first mention of Jesus stooping in this passage captures my attention and momentarily takes my breath away. It is a moment for awe as He physically demonstrates grace. The religious leaders didn’t recognize Jesus as the Son of God, the Christ. The disciples weren’t sure, either. But I know. I know that at this point in the story, the Christ, the Majesty who created the heavens and earth, lowers Himself beneath all others. I do not believe this was an act of submission or deference, but of confidence in grace and truth (and perhaps a bit of shock and awe!). This descent also draws all eyes to Himself, away from the woman, away from the religious leaders. He is now the center of the story.

As the religious leaders look upon Jesus, dissatisfied with his response (or lack of response), they protest and demand a verbal answer. “What say you?”

In response, Jesus straightens. He returns to His original position — His teaching position. Perhaps He even stands and is face to face with the religious leaders. The Greek verb used to describe Jesus’s “straightening” refers to the body as well as the soul. Not only is Jesus’ physical posture raised, but so is His soul. In this posture — a heavenward posture— He challenges their religious motivation: ”He who is without sin among you, let him be the first to throw a stone at her” (John 8:7). In other words, test yourselves against your own religion. Would you survive your own judgment and condemnation? This question has the power to knock me down on my best days. It demands truth and introspection, not condemnation. Jesus never condemns.

Jesus again stoops as the leaders inwardly search themselves. One by one, they walk away until only Jesus and the woman remain. He straightens to His heavenward posture and speaks directly to her for the first time. “Did no one condemn you. . .I do not condemn you either. Go. From now on sin no more” (vv. 10-11). Don’t look back! Focus on Me and walk forward.

I learned this kind of grace for myself from the letters of Brother Lawrence. He beautifully and aptly models how to forgive oneself, let go, and move forward. Only in this recent meditation have I discovered this was first the message of Jesus. I do not condemn you. Do not condemn yourself. Instead, sin no more and continue the journey with Me.

From the onset, Jesus embraced this woman with grace, while others sought condemnation. Jesus embraces us with the same grace today. It does not condone sin. To the contrary, grace offers life. “All that passing laws against sin did was produce more lawbreakers. But sin didn’t, and doesn’t, have a chance in competition with the aggressive forgiveness we call grace. When it’s sin versus grace, grace wins hands down. All sin can do is threaten us with death, and that’s the end of it. Grace, because God is putting everything together again through the Messiah, invites us into life—a life that goes on and on and on, world without end” (Romans 5:20-21, MSG).

I love that God stoops to lift us up. Surely, in those moments when the woman felt her life was at stake, her sole focus was on Jesus. As He stooped, her eyes lowered to follow the form of His body and as He straightened, her gaze lifted and her soul elevated heavenward. I learned from my husband the importance of looking up. When all else fails, look up. Look at the night sky and see the majesty of God. Then mountains fall into their place and giants fall to the ground.

One question remains in my meditation. If God stoops, should I? If the Creator of all life stoops to elevate the ones He loves, then who am I to take any other action. Jesus does not place me in the seat of judgment. He works with me to love Him with all my heart, soul, strength, and mind and to love my neighbor as myself. So, when I stoop as Jesus stoops, I am at once demonstrating grace to my neighbor and surrendering judgment to Jesus, the King and true Judge. This is the woman I want to be. One who stoops, who loves without conditions, and sees beyond appearance and past actions. I want my life to be a reflection of Christ doing only what I see my Father in heaven doing, no matter how small the action may seem.

The God Who Runs

Posted on by
Reply

The expression of a God who runs is what kick-started my meditation on the loving actions of God. In fact, it’s what I meditate on the most. Can you picture a God who runs? The Creator of the Universe running? Upon first inspection, it’s not very regal. To me, it’s a deep expression of love and romance. Little stirs my spirit more swiftly than God running toward me.

This example of the God who runs is beautifully described in the Parable of the Prodigal Son. I wonder if, because of this parable, the word “prodigal” has developed a negative connotation in the common language. After all, the story refers to a son who wastes away his inheritance. However, as I’ve studied and explored this parable over the years, it seems to me a story that is more about a prodigal father than son. The word prodigal implies giving in abundance, lavishly, or in extravagance. This aptly describes the father who lavishly loves his son. The father’s love is so full that he prematurely and freely gives his son an abundant inheritance. After his son wastes it away, the father not only welcomes his son home, but showers him with gifts and honor. What kind of a father is this who seemingly wastes his love on a rebellious, good for nothing son?

Early in my faith journey with Christ, a young man described God as One who lets go. He doesn’t lock people in a cage and demand their love. Instead, He let’s them go and waits for them to return. This is my story and could be why the parable of the prodigal father touches me deeply. It’s a story of a father who lets go and waits. The climax is in the run.

What was this father waiting for? An apology? A refund? No. He waited for the son he loved. Everyday, he waited and looked for his wandering offspring. Why? The father knew the son’s life was at stake. In the Hebrew culture at the time, such rebellious and squandering behavior was not just a crime against the family. It was a crime against the community and punishable by stoning. If the son were to return, he would face the consequence: death. So, the father waited.

One day, he saw the figure of a man in the distance and knew his son was returning home. I can see it now. It was a matter of life and death. So the father ran. He ran to embrace his son. No apologies. No explanations. Then, he clothed his son in the traditional, symbolic garments that identified him as a member of the family: robe, ring, sandals. Celebration ensued.

God runs. He also instructs us to run and to run with endurance the race that is set before us (Hebrews 12:1). Endurance in running comes from practice, as any runner will share. When I run, I set incremental goals for myself. My internal thought process is something like, “If I can just make it to the next light post. OK, made it. Now, if I can just make it to that big tree.” And so on. We have a promise in scripture that endurance for the spiritual race comes as we continually fix our eyes on Jesus (Hebrews 12:2). Imagine my endurance to run when I see Jesus who “never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God. . .“ (Hebrews 12:1-3, MSG).

God runs to us. He also runs with us. In 1992, Dereck Redmond, the Olympian, experienced this first-hand. Maybe you know the story. Dereck was favored to win the 400-meter race. Half-way through, he fell to the ground in agonizing pain with a torn hamstring. But he didn’t give up. His eye was fixed on the prize. He was going to finish. His loving father ran to his side and carried him to the finish line. This image of love — a father running to his son — is seared in the depths of my spirit. It embodies who Father God is to me.

Click below to watch a father’s love in action.

 

When I picture Father God, I picture the God who runs. He ran to save my life. He asked nothing in return except to lavishly bestow me with the gifts that name me daughter. His daughter. He runs with me today. He helps me keep sight of where I’m going — that exhilarating finish in and with Him.

The God Who Walks

Posted on by
1
John_William_Waterhouse_-_The_Soul_of_the_Rose,_1903

The Soul of the Rose, John Waterhouse

Over the last few months, I’ve been meditating on the actions of God, specifically as they relate to His love. Sometimes, I’m so focussed on the BIG actions or the fulfillment of BIG promises that I overlook the small and the simple acts of my Father God. This focus overflows into my physical relationships, as well. Time often reveals that the simple, small, and consistent acts are the most comforting, the most missed, and the greatest demonstrations of love.

For example, my loving husband makes me breakfast every morning. It is his pleasure to do this for me. If left unchecked, I could contort this daily practice into an expectation as opposed to an act of love. If I were to expect breakfast every morning, I would miss my husband’s heart. My focus would turn inward to myself and to my own satisfaction. God forbid! My hope and desire is to convey my love for my husband and express my thanks and joy in all that he does for me, no matter how small or how often.

I have the same hope and desire in my relationship with God. Yet, I take Him for granted. Let’s take walking, for example. It’s a simple enough act that I often overlook. The God who walks. So what? In the beginning, God walked in the garden. It was His delight — I daresay His pleasure — to walk amidst and with His Creation and His beloved, Adam and Eve. We all know the story. After the devastation of disobedience by His beloved, Adam and Eve hid from their Father. So focused on themselves, they were unable to share in God’s Presence (Genesis 3:8).

Whether it be fear or shame, I’m asking myself how often I follow in the shadow of Adam and Eve and hide from God’s invitation to walk with Him.

Enoch walked with God. This is all we really know of him. He walked in God’s pleasure until he was no more (Genesis 5:24). What a legacy! What an epithet! Noah also walked with God and through his obedience saved humankind (Genesis 5:9-22). Then, at some point in the Hebrew tradition, walking with God shifted to walking before God or walking in the ways of God. Until Jesus came. He brought restoration.

With the arrival of Jesus, we see the fulfillment of God’s promise to walk among us and be our God (i.e. Leviticus 26:12). Our God is a God who walks. I believe the invitation to walk with Him is perpetually extended, but the choice — the daily choice — is ours. Mine. Jesus invites everyone to come with Him. “Walk with me and work with me. . .,” He says (Matthew 11: 28-30, MSG, emphasis mine). “Watch how I do it.” This is an intimate call to His Presence. Watch how I walk. How I speak. How I love.

I am moved by God’s call to intimacy with Him. Who am I to walk with the King? I have no gift to offer. Even now I see the warmth of his invitation. “Come. Take a stroll with me. Let us talk of the things on your heart. Allow Me to impart My love, My wisdom, My grace.”

And look! The King, the God of all, He matches my pace so that we walk side-by-side, stride-by-stride. Though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear nothing; for He is with me (Psalm 23:4). In fact, He will never leave. He will always walk with me. And when I pause or stray and become distracted with myself, He waits and whispers my name until my focus is once again completely on Him. Seek me first and all you need will be provided (Matthew 6:33).

Today, I rejoice in the God who walks. . .with me.

Part Two: The Joy of the Lord

Posted on by
Reply

Note: This is the second part of a two-part blog. Be sure to read Part One: The Least of These.

One of the reasons Manning’s discussion about love and “the least of these” pierced me so deeply and precisely is because I work for an organization focused on ministering to prisoners and their families. And in a few short days, I would leave for Honduras to encourage prisoners and our local partners in prison ministry as well as evaluate an evangelism program designed to introduce inmates to Jesus.

In the prison ministry context, we are notorious for citing Matthew 25:35-40, specifically verses 36 and 40. These verses are scriptural bedrocks to us.

‘I was in prison, and you came to Me. Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.’

You can imagine how ripe these verses were in my mind as I was reading through Manning’s Ragamuffin Gospel. Surely he isn’t speaking about me, though? After all, the “least of these” refers to those in prison, right? Or to those who are hungry, thirsty, strangers, naked, and/or sick.

When I entered Tamara prison to meet with a group of inmates, I was oblivious to the blessing that was in store for me: the tangible expression of the joy of the Lord. What is the joy of the Lord, anyway? I recently heard it described as “Jesus Over You.” For now, let’s use this definition.

In a small room crowded with more than a dozen inmates, all of whom were elected spiritual leaders for their respective prison wings, I beheld Jesus over several of them. I slowly breathed in the rich and deep smiles, the enthusiasm for Jesus, and the pleasure for these inmates to share their knowledge of and experience with Christ. . .in prison. I listened to them attentively as my heart stirred to silence. Perhaps the most moving encounter was with a particular inmate sitting not far from me. When the opportunity presented itself, he shot up and said (in Spanish),

“I must tell you this story. I am a leader in the Segregation wing [one of several prison wings that house inmates]. Before this program, we were allowed only one hour of sunlight and were not permitted to mingle outside of our cells. Now, the authorities trust us. We have one half day of sunlight and we are allowed to mix with one another outside of our cells.”

He couldn’t wait to share with me, with all of us, what Jesus had done. How Jesus had impacted his life. The joy on his face was indescribable. You might think his joy was for the increased sunlight or additional human contact, but it wasn’t. It was Jesus and Jesus over him. In that moment, I realized that he is not the least of these. I am. And the joy he carried, I wanted.

It’s one thing to see the expression of joy outside the prison wall where liberty abounds. It’s another thing entirely to see it behind the wall, in one of the most dangerous prisons in Honduras, where fear and corruption rule. The joy of the Lord is evidenced on the faces of those who have not only learned to be content in their circumstances, but walk in those circumstances with Jesus all over them (Philippians 4:11). Did you expect to find Jesus so evident here? I didn’t, but I should have. He forsakes no one and redeems all who are willing to receive Him. Yes, this is outrageous and undignified love!

I thought God sent me to bless and encourage others. The truth is, I was blessed by the work of Jesus in and through a small group of men their society had locked away. There is no end to the love of Christ! God sent me from the land of liberty to a prison in Honduras and challenged me: what have you to fear? I am learning that I have nothing to fear in God’s perfect love. I have only to rest in Jesus over me.

Part One: The Least of These

Posted on by
1

Note: This is a two-part blog. Join me on a journey that passes through one of the largest (and most dangerous) prisons in Honduras.

I had a most unique and multifaceted experience in one of the largest prisons in Honduras. It was unique because I was in a prison. It was multi-faceted because the things of God are always filled with immeasurable depths and levels of understanding.

First, let me describe a spiritual encounter I experienced the week prior to my visit to Tamara prison. It was a Sunday, just like any other Sunday with one small exception. In the midst of prayer and worship, God revealed a deep rooted and hidden issue: fear. At the time it felt like terror! It sprung from depths I was unaware existed and daringly stared me in the face. What are you going to do with this fear? My initial response was denial and then as acceptance poured in, my tears poured out. I didn’t know it then, but God was in the process of replacing my fear with His love. We are still in process.

A few hours later, I confronted a deeper revelation of my struggle with fear. Such revelations are the Holy Spirit’s specialty and the danger of interior contemplation. But what a sweet reward it is when the spirit finds healing, peace, and growth. As my old friend G.I. Joe used to say, knowing is half the battle. The other half is what you do with the knowledge.

Obviously, my spirit was in prime reception mode (and high alert!) after acknowledging and (eventually) welcoming the work of the Holy Spirit. Emotionally weak and mentally overwhelmed, I picked up where I left off in Brennan Manning’s Ragamuffin Gospel, where for the third time—in two days!—the gentle and loving Presence of God softened my hard exterior and penetrated the depths of my heart.

Manning’s discussion was on the love of God and the necessity of the disciple to love others and to be loved. “The nature of God’s love for us is outrageous,” he says (p.172). It’s undignified and our love for others should be the same. Where does one start to love outrageously? Why, ourselves, of course! Quoting Carl Jung, Manning continues:

“[W]e are all familiar with the words of Jesus, ‘Whatever you do to the least of my brethren, that you do unto me.” Then Jung asks a probing question: ‘What if you discover the least of the brethren of Jesus, the one who needs your love the most, the one you can help the most by loving, the one to whom your love will be the most meaningful—what if you discovered that this least of the brethren of Jesus. . .is you?” (pp. 173-174).

Slow down. Just meditate on that for moment. What if the least of these—a reference we often assume refers to someone worse off than we are—is actually you? As I read those soul-searing words, I realized with great humility how in need I am of God’s love. Perfect love casts out fear. Again, just meditate on that in your life and circumstances.

So what does this have to do with a prison visit in Honduras? Find out in Part Two: The Joy of the Lord.

Holding the Door

Posted on by
Reply

It’s a new season! With every new year comes a renewed sense of goal-setting, excitement for new adventures, and curiosity for what the year might offer. There’s also the unique pleasure of turning our backs on the old year and brightly looking forward to the next. For many, the first day of the year brings the desire to spring-clean, release old (bad) habits, and start new things. It’s a time for change permanently marked by the calendar every 365 days.

What doesn’t ever change—no mater what day it is—is the constant, ever present, ever accessible presence of God. Sometimes that presence is thick and tangible. I like to refer to that experience as a God Encounter.

This morning I walked briskly through the cold to reach my office building. From another path, an older, white-haired gentleman emerged about 100-150 yards in front of me. Our destination was clearly the same, though he was bound to arrive before me. When he reached the door, he opened it—as expected—and waited. He turned toward me and watched me approach with a hospitable smile on his face. His pleasant voice shouted, “I must hold the door for you. It’s not in my nature to close it.”

I drew closer and crossed the threshold where we exchanged the normal pleasantries and bid one another a good day. But as I continued walking through the building the love of God warmed me from the inside out.

Scriptures suggest we may encounter angels in the faces of strangers (Hebrews 13:2). Although I cannot say if this man were angel or not, I can confidently confide in you the words of God, my Father, in that moment. “It is my great pleasure to not only open doors for you, but to hold them open until you arrive and cross the threshold.”

purpose-open-door-policy_b8f0dbef670b2e6d

It’s the first week of the new year and I am five days into it. Already, I am overwhelmed by the vast love of God as each day unfolds new evidence of His presence. Today, I receive a powerful addition to my faith, for God has clearly spoken and promised his great pleasure to hold the door for me. What a God Encounter!