Fear of Falling

Ah, Alberta and its wonky weather winters. It’s the last week of January, and the unusual warmth has made me wonder if I should head up on the ol’ roof early this year and take down the Christmas lights. Even though I stop turning them on after New Year’s Day, they usually sit up on their precarious perches until at least the end of March.

I don’t look at it so much as procrastination… more like self-preservation. You see, there is one second-story strand that cannot be reached from below with a ladder, thanks to a crab apple tree that is slowly becoming one with the front of my house. To reach that second-story strand, I have to climb onto the roof and get at it from above—an experience that never ceases to get my heart pounding and my mind questioning my sanity.

I clearly remember the first time I made my way onto that second-story roof. My parents were arriving that day for a brief pre-Christmas visit, and I wanted to welcome them with a festive-looking house. So up I went, strands in hand. As it happened, I ended up too terrified to get within three feet of the edge. After a few agonizing attempts, limbs trembling and sweat pouring, I finally left the roof in defeat. As I descended the ladder, my parents drove up.

The sight of me stepping down from the ladder with a strand of Christmas lights coiled in one hand must’ve been enough for my Dad to get the picture. He gently offered to help me out, and, in that confident manner he always had, began climbing the ladder. Chagrined and a little embarrassed, I followed with the lights. Soon we were on the roof, Dad eying the situation, and me beginning to feel my pulse racing again. Then he reached out for the strand and, as comfortable as if he were on level ground, knelt by the edge of the roof and began to attach it to the eaves.

Now, my Dad is not a small man. He’s always towered above me at his 6’ 3” height, and has that imposing farm-bred physique that reminds me every time I see him that I’ll probably never be able to take him in an arm-wrestling match, even when he’s 100 years old. But somehow, seeing him kneeling right at the edge of that rooftop without a hint of fear did something in me. With jaw set, I stepped to the edge of the roof and knelt beside Dad. Mimicking his posture, I began clipping those tiny lights to the eaves, one at a time.

And just like that, the fear evaporated.

Soon the strand was in place and plugged in. Standing there on that rooftop, admiring our handiwork, I couldn’t help but reflect on the difference between how I had felt when I had been on the roof alone and how I had felt when Dad was there with me. Somehow, the simple fact of my dad’s presence changed everything.

I could have resisted my Dad’s offer to help, mind you. I could have played the bravado card and tried to salvage my pride. I could have made excuses or tried to distract him. But I knew Dad could see through all of that. Besides, his wasn’t an offer that mocked my shortcomings; it was an act of love that bore the potential of revealing new possibilities.

The same is true with our heavenly Father, isn’t it? So much of life is daunting. Some of it is even terrifying. Many of us are right now standing near a relational, career or health-related precipice, scared out of our wits. Perhaps we’ve even come face-to-face with our limitations, but are resisting God’s gentle offer to help—choosing self-reliance instead.

If that’s where you’re at, let me remind you: God is there with you (Deuteronomy 31:6). He is for you (Ephesians 1:3-14). His perfect love banishes fear (1 John 4:18), and His presence has the power to change everything.

Promise of Purpose

About 12 years ago I received an old beat up table from my grandfather’s estate. I’m pretty sure he used it in his shop. The top was coated in a thick layer of grey paint, it was covered in oil stains and the legs had this impenetrable dark substance on them… I’m not sure what it was. I attempted to clean it when I got it, but some of the old layers just didn’t want to come off, so I let it sit until this past summer.

The last year has been a rough one, let's just say this past week’s message really sums it up. I had just moved into a new place, had time on my hands and decided to take another look at the old table. My goal was to clean it up so I could use it as a desk. It was my grandpas and has some sentimental value, but it was set aside and discarded, it's true purpose yet to be discovered.

With some elbow grease and chemicals that really sting when splashed on bare legs (note to self, always wear pants when working with chemicals), but it felt satisfying to remove the old dirty layers. As I was slaving away on the sticky, gooey substance on the legs, my mind was processing all that has taken place over the past number of months. I was trying to figure out my life and how I ended up here. I don’t really think I ever asked God “why”, but the pain was so great, I couldn’t see any purpose to it. Then, as I was working on this table, removing all the old, God spoke to me. He said, "your life is like this table. I am molding you, working to remove all the old stuff - the gooey, gross sticky mess - to reveal what is underneath. Yes, I know it looks pretty beat up and there are a lot of layers to take off, but underneath there is character, not perfection, but character to be revealed."

He said He wants to take all the pain and turn it into something that will make me a better follower of Him. He has a purpose for my life, and although I can’t see clearly what that is, I need to learn to trust and believe in His promises.

One of the books I have been reading is written by Sheila Walsh called "The Shelter of God’s Promises". In it she delves deep into God’s promises in scripture. Here are a few:

The Promise of Provision – when I don’t think I have enough…
 “And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.”  Philippians 4:19

The Promise of Peace – when I’m afraid and feel alone…
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.”  John 14:27

The Promise of Purpose – when I can’t see God’s plan in the pain
“And we know that all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28

She describes “We are the ones who have been selected by God specifically for His purposes. Therefore God makes all things, good or bad, work together to bring about His purposes, which are indeed good…. Our confidence flows out of his steadfastness.”

The Promise of Relentless Love –  see Romans 8:38-39
“He loves us for keeps and tells us: I belong to you, and you belong to Me – forever.”

A week ago I finally finished my table. It’s not perfect, but it definitely has a purpose. The layers have come off, and more of its beautiful character has been revealed. Transformation can be painful and messy, dirty even. I choose to allow Jesus to transform me for His purpose, regardless of how much pain I need to go through – He ultimately provides all that I need and I choose to live in His promises and I know that He is walking with me every step of the way.

The Gift

Have you ever thought it would be easier to believe in Jesus or follow Him if you had been with him while he was here on earth?  I’ve often envied the disciples and those who spent time with him.  However, as I’ve been meditating in the gospel of John recently, I’m reminded that Jesus doesn’t agree with me on this.  He actually said it is better for us that He was going away because of a gift He would send us.  The gift of the Holy Spirit (John 16:7).  In John 14-16 Jesus  gives several reason why this will be better. The Spirit will guide us into all Truth.  He will be our Advocate, Comforter, Counselor, Helper and Intercessor. The Holy Spirit won’t just be with us, He will be in us. 24/7.  When Jesus was here he was limited to touching those within the region where he lived, the Spirit however, will minister to believers on every corner of the globe----simultaneously!

Another thing Jesus said about this gift of the Spirit is that in spite of His activity, the world will not recognize Him because they aren’t looking for him. In a fresh way this Christmas I am thanking Jesus not just for coming to earth, but for sending us the person of the Holy Spirit when He left.  As a response, I want one of my gifts to Jesus to be that I more actively look and listen to what His Spirit is saying and doing; that I will quickly obey His promptings and follow His lead. Thank you Jesus for the gift of your Holy Spirit!

Exposed, Yet Safe

As we have studied Genesis this fall I got stuck on the story of Noah and his sons. Not the most renowned chapters pertaining to the flood and the ark, but the account of this family following their return to life on land. In Genesis 9:18-27 we learn that once settled, Noah tried his hand at farming. He plants and harvests a vineyard and from the fruit of his labour discovers – and perhaps initiates – the art of wine making. One day he does some ‘extreme’ wine tasting which leads to Noah’s spiral in to an intoxicated state of drunkenness, and lies naked in his tent. His youngest son Ham enters Noah’s tent and finds his dad in this disturbing and exposed situation. Without doing anything to help his father’s circumstances, Ham walks out and shares what he has just seen with his older brothers Shem and Japheth. Without hesitation the older brothers drape a robe over their shoulders, walk backwards into Noah’s tent, and cover their father’s nakedness, not allowing their eyes to fall upon Noah’s exposed, weak and vulnerable state. When Noah awoke from his stupor and learns of Ham’s actions, he curses Ham’s offspring, bestowing a sentence of judgement upon them.

As I prayerfully thought through this text my mind was drawn to each of the four characters: Noah, Ham, and the older brothers, and I found myself relating to all four of them.

I have been in Noah’s circumstances in that there have been times when I have figuratively been vulnerable, exposed and weak before others. Times when I have willingly bared my soul, my past, thoughts, or fears with another and they in turn have left my presence and shared it with other people. As a result I have felt judged, betrayed and exploited in the process.

Sadly I can also relate to Ham where I have been the one who has been entrusted with an intimate moment in another’s life and did not steward it well. I have done nothing to help them but rather I too have left the scene and shared inappropriate information with others, violating trust. Their openness and rawness was not safe in my presence. How I regret and repent over my unloving and ungracious actions.
Like the brothers, I have been the third party, where confidential information has been divulged to me about someone. The question is what was my response? Did I eagerly participate in the conversation or did I instead do what I could to honour and respect, defend and cover, guard and protect the other person? While my desire is to follow the example of the Shem and Japheth, I know that hasn’t always been the case.

As I pondered this text I realized how extremely damaging this can be. Whenever we choose to replicate Ham’s actions, a wall of relational distrust is built amongst us. Overtime we learn it is not safe to expose ourselves, to be raw or vulnerable with others. We avoid entering in to community for fear of being wounded, yet again. We live isolated, masked and at arm’s length to others. As a result we miss out on authentic, deep and real community – the very essence of what God created us to enjoy and thrive within.

Dear Lord Jesus, from this day forward may our words, thoughts and actions prove that we can be trusted and that others are safe in, and out, of our presence. Heal us from past relational hurts and enable us to risk and trust again. Convict us when we are tempted to violate this principle. Amen.

Last weekend's benediction

A couple people told me they found last weekend's benediction meaningful, and asked if I would post it here. I'm happy to do that, so here it is:

“ In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, I press the cross into you. As you receive it may you be humbled by God’s capacity for grace. May you rest in the knowledge that you are blessed by God and in His eyes, counted among the first-born.

May you be used by God to bring scandalous, intervening grace to the lives of others. May you bless those who don’t seek it or you think don’t deserve it. And may you seize the opportunities that abound to bless those you love, especially those who long to receive your blessing.

And may His word continue to give you strength for today, and hope for tomorrow. Amen.

Have a great week and don't forget to pray for our troops, and reflect on those who have sacrificed for us. "Lest we forget..."

Need A Vacation?

One of my favourite Bible verses is Psalm 46:10 “Be still and know that I am God”.  One of my favourite authors is Philip Yancey. This week these two faves came together in a book Yancey wrote, entitled Prayer:  Does it Make Any Difference?  In it he talks about the fact that this little verse contains two powerful, life-giving commands.  The first is “Be still...”  He explains that the Latin imperative for “be still” is vacate.   As Simon Tugwell explains, “God invites us to take a holiday [vacation], to stop being God for a while, and let him be God”. Sounds inviting doesn’t it?  In North America we live in a time of affluence and ease and yet stillness and personal peace have maybe never been more absent. Our frenzied pace often means that even vacation time isn’t really marked by inner calm and refreshment.  My husband and I struggle with holiday time not being just a different to-do list.  I find this command to be still very inviting... but how do we stop the craziness?  I wonder if the second command isn’t the key to being able to carry out the first.

“Be still and know that I am God”. In North America one of our badges of honour is self-sufficiency.  We are conditioned to believe that your best and safest bet is to be in a position where you don’t need anyone else. Be master of your fate and maker of your destiny.  From the time we are toddlers “I can do it myself” is our mantra. While there is of course a necessary, healthy side to this there is also an insidious dark side which is reflective of what happened in the Garden of Eden. Adam and Eve decided they would like to switch roles and move from dependent receivers to independent controllers.  Yancey says, “To let God be God, of course, means climbing down from my own executive chair of control.”  God is God.  He is in the heavens and He is in control.  Scripture is clear that when I choose to follow Christ, to be a Christian, I am choosing to reverse the decision that Adam and Eve made. I relinquish control back to God.  I enter a place of full-dependence. I let God be God and let Him run the universe and my life. It’s tough to do, but every time I get a taste of releasing control and just being a child of my Heavenly Father I want more.  What about you?  Time for a vacation?

Steak or Spam

Recently, as I read through Genesis 4 and the account of Cain and Abel I was drawn to verses 2- 4 (NLT): “When they grew up, Abel became a shepherd, while Cain cultivated the ground. When it was time for the harvest, Cain presented some of his crops as a gift to the Lord. Abel also brought a gift – the best of the firstborn lambs from his flock.”

What stood out to me from the text were two words: some…and best. Cain presented ‘some’ of his crops as a gift and offering to God, while Abel offered the ‘best’ of his flock.

I am from a farming background. My Dad was a grain farmer so I can easily relate to Cain’s grain offering. I recall that at harvest time the circumference of the field and the outside edge was generally the worst part of the crop. This area typically yielded the least return, produced the poorest quality of grain and had the greatest influx of weeds. It was often trampled, wind-blown and scorched. And while it produced ‘some’ grain  it generally contributed the least to the harvest. So much so in fact that in some cases Dad would invite a neighboring rancher to come and bail this part of the crop for cattle feed. It wasn’t worth the fuel it took to get in off the field. It was not too difficult, costly or much of a sacrifice to offer up and give away this portion of the harvest.

Contrast that with Abel’s offering of the lamb…the ‘best’ lamb. Although farmers, my family was not into cattle farming. However, each fall my parents would purchase a full ¼ or ½ of beef and have it cut, wrapped and put into the freezer to last my family through the winter months. All of us knew that there was one meal out of that batch of meat that we wanted to show up for…T-bone steak night. In our opinion, the ultimate cut from that animal. The loin the most tender, the meat next to the bone the tastiest. Mom would fry it up on the stove - in Crisco oil - and it was a feast adequate for a king. Delicious, mouthwatering, the very best!! No one wanted to miss out, be late or absent when T-bone was on the menu. At times Mom would invite others to join us for that special meal. It was always a very special opportunity when we were able to honor others by sharing and giving the very best we had to offer.

As I compared those two scenarios of offerings I thought about my life, my ultimate offering to God... and I asked myself whether I give God ‘some’ of my life, or the ‘best’ of my life? Do I offer up ‘some’ of my time, energy and resources… but stop before it begins to cost me personally? Do I offer my King steak or spam? Do I serve sacrificially or beneficially? Do I give God the best parts of all of me or do I withhold big chunks for self comfort, self preoccupation and self control?

Lord Jesus, I want to give you the very best I have every day…all day. Forgive me for the times I have kept the best for my selfish pleasure. Show me how to give away my life…the best of my life…for You and your Kingdom cause. Amen.