Hope

Hope is such a glorious thing! It is that magic motivator that allows explorers to face unknown dangers in pursuit of a conquest and keeps oppressed hearts beating until deliverance finally arrives. Hope is the companion of faith and charity, the fuel of dreams and visions that ignites the weary heart to believe again. It is a powerful force indeed when carried within the human soul! Hope is God-ordained and every human should possess a good dose of it. However, hope has a treacherous side to it that can quickly turn our mountain of expectation into a destructive avalanche.

After being defeated in WWI, Germany struggled to get back on its feet. The ensuing rule of the Weimar Republic further steeped the nation in political instability, violence and economic depression. Germany was ripe for hope and that hope presented itself in the form of a charismatic, 5'8" tall chancellor named Adolph Hitler. Today we see his mustached face and recoil at his hideous atrocities that will forever stain the annals of history, but in 1933 most Germans, whether rich or poor, educated or non-educated, young or old saw that same face as their hope for a brighter tomorrow. Only a comparatively few frustrated individuals and rejected fringe groups perceived that underneath Hitler's immense popularity there existed the perverted seeds of hate and revenge that would drive Germany to its knees once again. Can we fault a desperate Germany for falling under the enchantment of such a clever fellow? It is easy to do this in the clarity of retrospect, but the fact remains that as long as man hopes, man will be vulnerable to whatever or whomever he chooses to put his hope into.

It is easy for us to commit Germany’s same error. We follow our own instincts and end up holding a full cup of disappointment and sorrow. It is through these tears that the truth of God becomes magnified. "Happy is he... whose hope is in the Lord his God." (Psalms 146:5) Charismatic chancellors may deceive us, but the King of Kings is a sure investment for our hope.

Works cited:

United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. www.ushmm.org/wic/en/article.php?Moduleld=10007331      Accessed Aug. 11, 2013

Finishing the Race

 Boston, MA

“Let’s go!” I said to my 10 year old daughter, “Let’s run!” She turned and gave me a confident smile and took off like a Tasmanian devil. I smiled at her vigor, her zeal and her persuasion of victory. She had every reason to outrun me! However, when it was all said and done, age won out over youth. I explained to her that winning the race has as much to do with pace as it does with velocity. Races are not judged by how you take off, but by how you finish.

Apparently, God feels the same as marathon organizers about this concept. He said, “But he that endureth to the end shall be saved.” Matt. 10:22. In Hebrews 12:2 we find the definition of pace, “Let us run with patience the race that is set before us.” Many times we start out just like my daughter, motivated, full of good faith, energy and a determination to take off and fly. Society gives its accolades to the swift, the strong, the capable and the ones in the lead, and it is easy to lose our pace trying to achieve and maintain this ideal image. However, God is not looking to see who we are beating out today or our current record speed, rather He is concerned that we are keeping our eyes on His finish line and doing what it takes to cross it even if that means slowing down a bit to keep our pace. We live in a society (the Christian world being no exception) that is full of failing marriages, broken relationships, exhausted ministers, weakened bodies and frustrated purposes. Nobody wants to be the tortoise when Mr. Hare is taking the racing community by storm, but slow turtles and old moms conceal the wisdom of the ages: we must find the pace that will take us across the finish line because that is what really matters in the end. 

Chocolate!

Humanity is like a box of chocolates. Superficially, we may all seem somewhat similar, but everyone has their own God-ordained flavor on the inside. You ‘bite into’ some folks and discover they are tangy lemons, others are soft jellies and yet others are tough caramels; our talents, skills, temperaments and personalities all blend together to produce our special flavoring. Even though we may personally hate maple creams or find nuts unappealing and wonder why they even have a place in the assortment, every single flavor in God’s chocolate box is good and valuable in His sight. He has given to each of us an individual flavor that carries with it our individual power.

It is easy for us as humans to become very loyal to our flavor type. If we are a sweet vanilla cream, we feel that is the best flavor and we depend on the power of our sweetness to get the job done. If we are a chewy caramel, we feel that chewy caramel is the best in the box and everyone should recognize the fact. If we are decadent truffles, we tend to only respect others who have achieved decadence and thus the comparison goes. We fall into the trap of overvaluing our own flavor and we forget God intended for his chocolate factory to produce all different types of flavors for His purpose and for His enjoyment. The goal of our flavor is not to satisfy our desires and longings, but to taste so good to those consuming us that they take a second look at the box to see what Expert made these delicious chocolates. Whatever our personal flavor, it should embody our Maker’s motto, “O taste and see that the Lord is good!” 

The Silent Force

It is a beautiful, verdant tree, its towering trunk and ample branches providing welcome shade from the Texas heat. However, at some point in its lifetime this tree had suffered a lightening strike that caused an internal split in the tree’s trunk. In an effort to reinforce it, someone had placed a sturdy metal band around the trunk. I was surprised when my daughter walked into the house one day holding this metal band in her hand. “What happened?” I asked her, “Were you pulling on that?” I started to admonish. “No,” she replied, “It was just open.” I went out to evaluate the situation and try to determine what strange force had popped open a metal band, and the conclusion I gathered surprised me. It was not caused by vandalism or curious children, but by the growth of the tree. Despite its scars, its weakness, its internal damage, the tree had continued to grow and its own growth and weight had broken the band that held it.

Sometimes we look at people and it is obvious that there are issues holding their lives in a bind. Samson was one of these people. Despite being called of God to accomplish a great mission as a judge and deliverer of the Israelites, he was held in chains by his own desires. This weakness eventually caught up with him and he found himself a depowered captive. However, the enemies forgot that as his hair grew, his power grew. This oversight allowed Samson to break the fetters of his oppressors and achieve his greatest victory ever.

As humans, we all wrestle with things that hold us down, but we must remember that every human also has the power to grow. As we become more honest with ourselves, more aware of God, more educated about our situation and more dedicated to making small, everyday changes, we begin to grow. Although slow, unseen and not very glamorous, growth has the power to break the restraints that hold us back. 

Finding Our Joy

"If you call the Sabbath a delight and the Lord 's holy day honorable, and if you honor it by not going your own way and not doing as you please or speaking idle words,

then you will find your joy in the Lord,...."  Isaiah 58:13-14

We live in a caffeine world. There never seem to be enough new coffees or energy drinks to counteract our constant, collective lethargy. Burnout, exhaustion and fatigue are all too common in our everyday lives. Not only are our bodies tired, but the contentment in our spirits has been extinguished. Are we really toiling beyond reason in our convenience filled world? Is life really so much more stressful than it was for those who went before us? Where did our strength go? Who stole our joy?

In the Old Testament, the Sabbath day of rest and reflection was not optional; it was an unbending commandment from God for His people. The Cross has freed us from keeping the Law and the New Testament does not repeat the command to keep the Sabbath, so in the Christian world it has been reverently displayed in the Museum of Times Bygone and relegated to the ranks of the studious. However, maybe we have exercised our spiritual liberty to the point that our bulging muscles inhibit us from grasping what we desperately need- rest with purpose. Not mindless couch potatoing or constant pleasure seeking, but sacred times dedicated to mindful reflection, deliberate leisure, true human connection and inward stillness. The purpose of the Sabbath was to refresh, recharge and refocus by renewing our God focus, a time to lay down our agendas and pick up God's agenda, to exhale stress and inhale peace and to perceive the divine though confined to the earthly. The principle of the Sabbath was the principle of remembering that we find our joy when we lose ourselves in the rest of a loving God.

Sowing Esther Style

“..If I perish, I perish.” Esther 4:16

 Picture retrieved from:

http://www.sierraclubgreenhome.com/cms/wp-content/uploads/2008/09/seeds.jpg

“Send in your faith seed!” Such seems to be the ubiquitous cry of the televangelist. No, he’s not talking about flower seeds, or vegetable seeds or even grains of mustard, we all know he’s referring to the stuff found in wallets! The Christian church in North America has thoroughly embraced the belief of fast blessings. The idea prevails that if we give $10 to the cause of Christ, we are guaranteed $100 back, or $1,000 or maybe even $10,000 depending on our faith. The Kingdom of God has become the new and improved Wall Street for believers. If we are willing to give, we are sure to get back! Does God bless those who give in faith? Most definitely, but giving with the thought of getting a quick return is not exactly faith giving.

Esther found herself being asked to sow a seed. It was not a financial seed, but it was definitely a faith seed. To go in uninvited before the king in order to intercede for her people was to invite instant death. God was asking Esther for a faith investment that had no guaranteed returns, no visible safety nets and no promises of glory. She knew it could mean complete disaster for her, but she battled through her short-sightedness until she was able to say those words of ultimate faith, “If I perish, I perish!” No reward, no guarantee, no victory in sight but a willingness to lay it all down for the sake of the Cause. It is when believers are willing to sow in Esther’s style that faith begins to really prevail, that the church can flourish even in times of scarcity and persecution, and what was sown in the unseen starts to produce the visible.

The White Elephant

The White Elephant

Someone gives you a kind, heartfelt gift and although you appreciate the gesture of the giver, sometimes the gift itself is not as easy to appreciate. You look at it and ask yourself, "To what event would I wear this awful tie? Where can I discreetly put this hideous knick knack? What am I going to do with yet another obscure kitchen gadget?" These are typical responses to things we don't really want yet somehow we find it difficult to get rid of them for whatever reason. These are our white elephants.

One of the biggest white elephants of all is pain. Something happens and suddenly we find ourselves holding a memory that we would like to dispose of yet somehow we can't. We look around our lives and try to figure out what to do with it. Should we put it on a shelf where we will constantly remember it? Should we take it out back and bury it? Should we alter it and wear it with pride? Pain does not dissolve on its own so we have to find a place for it in our psyche. Sometimes we decide to place it on the shelf of self-guilt and allow self-loathing to take control. Sometimes we plunk it in the knife drawer and seethe with a constant desire for revenge. Sometimes we shove it into the attic with forgotten things and wonder why our home is always filled with such an odd odor. Sometimes we put it in the front yard as an everlasting monument and take comfort in the sympathetic gazes of passersby. Whatever our decision, white elephants are not easy to hide. Speaking of hiding, perhaps the best place for our pain is in the closet, not hidden behind coats and golf clubs, but covered in the grace, mercy and blood of a Savior, because whatever we bolt down in our prayer closet can't stomp on us any longer.