Shout to the Lord

1: to utter a sudden loud cry
2: to command attention as if by shouting
3: to utter in a loud voice


There have been a lot of things shouting for my attention lately. In fact, all of the shouting has distracted me to the point of paralysis; I haven’t been able to blog in three months! (Thanks gentle friend for the reminder) I feel like I’ve been taking in news and messages from all sides, and unable to stop and process, or ponder what all of this news means to my life. Be prepared, this is going to be a big one.

I have been busy dealing with my own family. My daughter, who is in middle school (sheesh), is dealing with common middle school crises. She is a good girl, but not impervious to the immorality that seems to confront her far too often. She has serious questions that shout at me and I need to take to prayer in order to answer. In addition, I have to make sure my husband is taken care of and my son is growing up to be a good, decent young man.

I have a ministry that I work for; Timber Bay. There I minister for, pray for, and worry about ten young ladies that need love, care and Jesus. Their problems, which are very serious, shout at me for immediate attention. I slowly feed them the milk of the Gospel, praying fervently that God uses my words to reach their fragile hearts.

I listen to a daily radio talk show that discusses world events and where we seem to be headed. Fortunately, or unfortunately for me, the commentator is an extensive reader, as am I. Because I find his show so accurate and fascinating, I tend to read all of his suggestions. I just finished Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, which is 1069 pages. It took me a week to complete the work.

And then there is the world news. I am completely and utterly addicted to Fox News and biblical prophecy. Both of those make for a daunting combination. I am convinced that Jesus will return soon, and each news headline reaffirms that on a daily basis. A small example:

Over 100,000 Certificates of De-Baptism have been downloaded from a Secular Society website. Said the President of the organization, "The growing amount of interest in the concept of de-baptism indicates that people are not just indifferent to religion, but are actually becoming quite hostile to it."

Stories about Israel are all over the news; “US says Jerusalem to be Capital of Palestine.” “Iran tests a missile that can reach Israel,” “Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu will not stand for Iran provocation.” “Scotland to boycott Israel.” I could go on and on for pages about this subject.

Add to this equation the President, the economy, the environment, the declining birthrate, the radical decisions made by our government and I have a lot of things shouting for my attention.

“So, Romans 323 girl, where is God in this mess?’ Good question.

I know Jesus Christ. I met Him when my life was at the very worst point it could sink to. I was literally at the end of my rope and losing my grip. He saved me; He dusted me off and raised me up. I know Jesus Christ.

Jesus lost my attention lately. Jesus isn’t shouting for me to look at Him, to see what new things He’s doing. He doesn’t shout when I hear my children praying to Him, singing Him songs of worship, squealing with delight over the sunset He’s created. He doesn’t shout when He answers the prayers of my Timber Bay girls, when He shows up in their lives, when His word finally resonates in their hearts. He doesn’t shout when a plump red strawberry peeks its head out in my garden.

And why should He? He is the Author and Creator of all these things. I know that. It’s so frightfully easy to forget sometimes. I forget that He doesn’t need to shout. He’s God.

Don’t misunderstand me, I know Jesus can shout. He shouted with all He had on Calvary’s Hill, didn’t he? Without hardly saying a word.

He shouldn’t have to shout to get my attention now. He captured it that day six years ago when He changed my life.

Everyone who proclaims Christ as their Lord and Savior knows some simple truths. God is in control of all these situations. He is going to return to get us when it’s time. He loves us and holds us in His hands, no matter what the conditions appear to be at that moment. He hears us when we pray and cries when we cry.

When Jesus was wooing me, He led me to the Parable of the Great Banquet. It spoke to my heart; because I was one of the crippled, the poor; crippled in the heart, poor in Spirit. I think this Parable can be analogous to the disinterest I have been suffering from lately. I have found excuses in the shouting clatter to ignore the only One who can truly invite me to sit with Him. I have to remember that I was someone in an alley that He was interested in inviting to feast. From Luke 14.15-23:

When one of those at the table with him heard this, he said to Jesus, "Blessed is the man who will eat at the feast in the kingdom of God."
Jesus replied: "A certain man was preparing a great banquet and invited many guests.
At the time of the banquet he sent his servant to tell those who had been invited, 'Come, for everything is now ready.'
"But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said, 'I have just bought a field, and I must go and see it. Please excuse me.'
"Another said, 'I have just bought five yoke of oxen, and I'm on my way to try them out. Please excuse me.'
"Still another said, 'I just got married, so I can't come.'
"The servant came back and reported this to his master. Then the owner of the house became angry and ordered his servant, 'Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame.'
“‘Sir,' the servant said, 'what you ordered has been done, but there is still room.'
"Then the master told his servant, 'Go out to the roads and country lanes and make them come in, so that my house will be full.
I tell you, not one of those men who were invited will get a taste of my banquet.' "

But I’ll leave these thoughts with one more thought from the only words that truly have eternal value; one day Jesus will come shouting, and no one will miss it. It will be another invitation to feast. From Revelation 19.6-9

Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting:
"Hallelujah!
For our Lord God Almighty reigns.
Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory!
For the wedding of the Lamb has come,
and his bride has made herself ready.
Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear."
Then the angel said to me, Write: 'Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!' “And he added, "These are the true words of God."

Heaven awaits us! For those who believe, He is coming! These are the only things worth shouting for, and I know it. Jesus Christ deserves to be front and center of my life every day for the rest of eternity! Good words, if I can remember them. What I need to do is to listen for Jesus’ silent shouts; in my children, in the skyline, in my garden, in my Spirit. That is the food that needs to sustain me until I get to the feast.

"Nishmat kol chai tivarech et SHIMCHA."
(The breathing of all life praises your Name)

Whisper:
To speak with soft, hushed sounds, using the breath, lips, etc., but with no vibration of the vocal cords.
To produce utterance substituting breath for phonation.
To talk softly and privately.
(of trees, water, breezes, etc) To make a soft, rustling sound

It has taken me a long time to get around to writing about this word. I am not one who whispers much, so tailoring a ‘message’ around the word is a challenge. Never one to walk away from a challenge, I have shut up long enough to hear God speak.

YHWH, the original name of our Lord, spoken first to Moses in Exodus 3.15, “This is my Name forever and this is my memorial, the Name by which I am to be remembered by, from generation to generation for all generations."

It is impossible to speak the Word. With no vowels, nothing to form a word around with your mouth, the best one can do is breathe the name of the Lord. It’s not a name formed from English, Hebrew, Greek, or Arab. Rather, it is in a breath, which is a universal language of all living creatures.

Spoken most eloquently by Rabbi Arthur Waskow, “It is unpronounceable in my view not because we are forbidden to pronounce it, but because if one tries to do so, pronouncing these four strange letters (semi-vowels, semi-consonants; linguists call them aspirate consonants) WITHOUT any vowels, one simply breathes. The real Name is BEYOND pronunciation, unless you consider breathing pronunciation.”

Our Heavenly Father has a proper name, which is used 6823 times in the Old Testament, which cannot be shouted. His name speaks for itself without a need for exclamation. His renown is all the exclamation that is needed.

Those familiar with the Bible know the story of Elijah Elijah is feeling worthless and that the work he has done for the Lord was in vain. The Lord tells Elijah to go stand on the mountain because the Lord is about to pass by. A mighty wind passes by, but the Lord is not in the wind. A great earthquake comes, but the Lord is not in the earthquake. A fire appears, but the Lord is not in the fire. Then, a gentle blowing arrives, and the Lord is there.

The beauty of this story is that the Lord could have chosen to appear in all the mighty ways detailed, but He chose to show His glory in a gentle wind. He was the whisper of the wind through the trees.

Now, taking these things into consideration, do I really want the Lord to speak to me? I find myself surrounded by noise constantly. My husband and children speak to me, taking much of my attention. The television and radio occupy my eardrums, the computer my eyes and my brain. I find it almost unsettling to spend too much time in quiet. I justify it by telling myself I am great at multi-tasking, which is true to a point. But if the Lord will not shout…

Some people do not have this struggle, to which I am envious. However, for those people, and for myself if I discipline myself to the quiet, there are still some factors to consider:

Am I emotionally prepared to hear from the Lord? Will I be able to know it is Him? Am I ready for what He may have to say to me? Will I be interjecting my own thoughts and opinions into what I hear? Can I stand to hear the Truth?

Am I physically prepared to hear from the Lord? That may seem odd, but am I able to focus on clearing my head, not to ever leave it open and vulnerable, but in a place where I can meditate on the Lord alone? Can I calm down my hectic state long enough to wait on the Lord, rather than carving out an allotted time for Him?

Finally, am I spiritually prepared to hear from the Lord? Do I know His word well enough to know if what I am hearing is Truth? Again, can I recognize Him and not interject my own thoughts and call them His? Will I be able to handle it?

Perhaps I am alone on this, and everyone else has this figured out, but I think otherwise. If more of us were attuned to the Lord’s voice, we would be able to speak out more ourselves in the pure confidence He would be giving us. I know on the few occurrences I have heard from the Lord, it has been amazing and true. It is my fault I do not do it more.

I know if we were to hear from the Lord, we would be able to speak out against the horrid blaspheme going on in the media and on the streets these days. It is impossible not to hear our new president being called ‘the savior’ and ‘the messiah.’ It should and does send our spirits into utter revulsion. We know we have only one Savior and one Messiah, and it is certainly not our president. If we are the body, what are we doing?

It is being said on a daily basis that the president will rescue not only the country, but the world. He will bring peace, prosperity, love. All we have to do is watch, support and obey. And I do not consider any of that to be an exaggeration. Read the paper, watch the news. Listen to the radio.

I think it is high time for us to tune into the whispers of YHWH. He may be starting to reveal Himself in high definition to non-believers, but I believe He has something to whisper to His children now. The Hebrew word ‘meditate’ means to mumble whisper or reflect aloud. That sounds like the perfect conversation to have with our YHWH.

“My holy name I will make known in the midst of My people Israel; and I will not let My holy name be profaned anymore. And the nations will know that I am the Lord, the Holy One in Israel.” Ezekiel 39.7

“For My own sake, for My own sake, I will act; for how can My name be profaned? And My glory I will not give to another. Listen to me, O Jacob, even Israel whom I called; I am He, I am the first, I am also the last.” Isaiah 48.10-12

“Then those who feared Yahweh spoke with one another; Yahweh heeded and heard them, and a book of remembrance was written before him of those who feared Yahweh and thought on his name.” Malachi 3.16

There Will Be A Day

Wonder
1 a: a cause of astonishment or admiration: marvel
2: the quality of exciting amazed admiration
3 a: rapt attention or astonishment at something awesomely mysterious or new to one's experience b: a feeling of doubt or uncertainty

It was on the ride to the funeral home that the song by Jeremy Camp came on the radio. The sky was dreary, as was my mood. We were going to say our final good-bye to one of the strongest pillars; the foundation of my life; my grandmother. I and my family had spent the previous day attending her wake. It was a long, painful day, full of tears and grief. This day, we were heading to the funeral home to pray over her, close her casket and take her to church one last time.

To aid in my healing, and to take you on a brief journey of the woman who helped raise me as another of her daughters, I will share with you the lyrics of the song, “There Will Be A Day.”

I try to hold on to this world with everything I have
But I feel the weight of what it brings, and the hurt that tries to grab

My relationship with my own mother was a distressed one to put it mildly. She spiraled into a deep depression after my father left us, and she did not do well with single parenting. My grandmother picked up some of the strain by taking me into her home quite a bit. It was there I was able to find comfort, solace, and love. I would wake up to the smell of eggs and bacon cooking, and my grandfather saying, “Hey kid, are you every going to get up?” Life there seemed more normal.

The many trials that seem to never end, His word declares this truth,
that we will enter in this rest with wonders anew

My grandmother took me on trips with her; allowing me to escape from the horrors that were my life at home. She took me to Disney World with my youngest aunt, who became more like a sister to me than anything. I have pictures of her and I with clown make-up, which I’m sure disguises the pain I suffered from at the time. My grandmother took me to see caves with marvelous sights and took me to wonderful hotels and a restaurant on the side of a hill where I ate food I had never heard of. When I was in Junior High School, she took me to Iowa, where we explored colleges I might attend. She helped me believe there could be life for me beyond the trouble I saw all around me.

And even though I moved away from my home state, onto a life of my own, I never stopped loving the woman who helped that to happen. Now she was gone. Forever. I could never tell her again how much she meant to me, how much she did for me.

But I hold on to this hope and the promise that He brings
That there will be a place with no more suffering

It was my grandmother who I watched live her life with a stoic grace that I have always attempted to emulate. She was pragmatic; she was strong; stronger than anyone I had ever known. She bore the pain of shingles without sharing much of her pain, even though it was excruciating. And when she was diagnosed with lung cancer, she would hardly allow anyone to grieve for her. “It is what it is,” she would tell me. And when I told her I had many people praying for her, she said, “Thanks, I need all the help I can get.”

There will be a day with no more tears, no more pain, and no more fears
There will be a day when the burdens of this place, will be no more, we'll see Jesus face to face
But until that day, we'll hold on to you always

It was my grandmother’s face I saw when I awoke from a coma two Decembers ago. She was standing at the end of my hospital bed, looking down at me. My mother was there too, a weepy mess. But my grandmother was not crying, she was looking at me as if to tell me I could overcome this obstacle in my life, as I had overcome so much more already. She stayed in that hospital for two weeks, only leaving once to go eat with my husband. Otherwise, she slept in the family waiting areas, holding vigil for the granddaughter she loved so much.

I know the journey seems so long
You feel you're walking on your own
But there has never been a step
Where you've walked out all alone

As I mentioned before, it was my grandmother who helped me escape my past and move onto my future. I had decided to go to college in Minnesota. She was the one who got on a plane with me to an airport 40 miles away, and then drove a rental car to Winona. Together we saw the beautiful valleys, the majestic bluffs that surrounded the college town. She took me to meet the professors and the people that would award me my scholarships. She looked upon me with such pride; I knew I could never fail her.

Troubled soul don't lose your heart
Cause joy and peace he brings
And the beauty that's in store
Outweighs the hurt of life's sting

But I did. I strayed from college, turning for a while to drugs to ease the pain of life. She would talk to me from time to time, asking me when I was going to get back up and start over. She rejoiced when I finally did, sending me the most beautiful card when I got married, a card that spoke to me that she understood my relationship with Jesus, and that she celebrated that joy with me. She rejoiced again when I graduated from college, 10 years later, and lamented her hurt leg that would not allow her to come and celebrate with me.

I can't wait until that day where the very one I've lived for always will wipe away the sorrow that I've faced
To touch the scars that rescued me from a life of shame and misery this is why this is why I sing

I began to grieve for my grandmother when she had a stroke. Even though it had ravaged her, she still held an inner strength and dignity I pray I will have when my days come to a close. This time, I was the one standing over her hospital bed, telling her that she too could overcome this obstacle.

And she did, too. She went home, where there is no more suffering, no more pain, and no more grief. I pray she knew in her heart how much of an affect she had on this one life, what an impact she had for good that branches off into shoots that are her grand-grandchildren. There will be a day I will be able to tell her this, I know.

He'll wipe away the tears. He'll wipe away the tears. He'll wipe away the tears.

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” – Revelation 21.4

I have to Pause

Pause:
1: a temporary stop
2: to dwell or linger

Because I am writing this on the eve of what is amounting to be an historical election, one may think that I would want to wax eloquently about politics. One would be wrong.

Anyone who knows me can attest that I am a political junkie. I live and breathe politics, and how our political systems affect the entire world. I have had enough. I believe it is because I am neglecting what is truly important.

The month that just ended was Pastor Appreciation Month. Across the country, how much was that overshadowed by this election mania I wonder. Were we consumed by the mud-slinging, the rhetoric so much so that we failed to see the ones who labor right in front of us? I point the most direct finger of regret at myself.

I have to believe that our pastors operate by enormous amounts of faith poured out on them by our Almighty God. No one can conjure up enough faith to sustain them on a daily basis through trials and strife; it has to come from the One who called us to be His child. Therefore, these shepherds have to function on much more than rote obedience.

Jesus called Himself the Good Shepherd who lays His life down for His sheep, so it bears a peek into the life of a shepherd and his flock. Here is what Jesus says;

“I am the Good Shepherd. I know my own sheep and my own sheep know me. In the same way, the Father knows me and I know the Father. I put the sheep before myself, sacrificing myself if necessary.” John 10.14-15

First, some information on the animals that Jesus compared us to; sheep. Let us look and compare ourselves to these animals. Sheep have excellent eyesight, but they have poor depth perception, which means they cannot see immediately in front of their noses. Sheep have a strong instinct to follow the leader. When one sheep decides to go somewhere, the rest of the flock will follow, even if it’s not a good decision. Sheep will tend to stay together in a group, and one will become agitated when it is separated from the group. When sheep are faced with danger, their instinct is to flee. Sheep also never walk in a straight line. They are constantly observing their backside from one side and then another. Sheep never allow themselves to show pain, because it attracts predators. Sheep have to be watched closely, as they will eat poison grasses and berries, and drink brackish and poisoned water if left to their own devises.

While there is some debate about whether or not shepherds will break a sheep’s legs, I have it on good authority that it is indeed true. When a sheep refuses to stop wandering, a shepherd will break their legs and carry them around on their backs until their legs are healed. The sheep is then conditioned to never stray far from the shepherd.

Pastors strive to model themselves after The Good Shepherd. They lay down much of their lives for their sheep. It may not appear like that to a casual observer, but as someone who sees a pastoral staff on a daily basis, I can attest to their faith and dedication.

Pastors put in many more hours then what they are paid for. They spend time pouring over Scripture, music, curriculum and people. They pray for people who are constantly straying. They plead for the souls of the lost that have not come into the fold yet. Their sheep’s pain is their own and they care individually for each one of them.

So what would it take for us to pause for a moment to remember them everyday? There are many of us who are praying for the elections, when we forget that God is ultimately in control of the situation. He is the Creator of the Universe and He sustains that Universe and this Earth on a daily basis; how can we be so sinful to think He is not in control of what happens with political leaders and how this whole Creation drama plays out? Sure, we have a duty to pray for our leaders and our enemies, and we have a duty to vote, but God is certainly not surprised or caught off guard by the results.

Our pastors are on the front lines everyday. They hear from rams and goats. Hear what God says in Ezekiel 34:

“Is it not enough for you to feed on the good pasture? Must you also trample the rest of your pasture with your feet? Is it not enough for you to drink clear water? Must you also muddy the rest with your feet? Must my flock feed on what you have trampled and drink what you have muddied with your feet?” Ezekiel 34.17-19

I can only surmise that it is not sheer obedience that keeps our pastors where they are. It is faith that God can use their meager offerings to reach that lost sheep, to nurture a sick lamb, to build up a yearling. The pastors are constantly dealing with their flocks.

I want to pause to reflect on people who are more important to my daily life than politicians. I’ll be at my polling place on Election Day, that’s not the issue. But after the election has been decided, my pastors will still be where they were the day before; sitting at their desks or on their knees somewhere, praying for all of us. When the economy falters, they will be there, praying and providing as best they can. When the Word of God is attacked or harnessed, they will still be there, fighting for the truth. When my children hear something in school I don’t want them to hear, or my non-believing family fights me with rhetoric they hear, my pastors will give me words of wisdom and encouragement.

And it’s because my pastors know something very important that God has given them by faith;

"Don't you know anything? Haven't you been listening? God doesn't come and go. God lasts. He's Creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn't get tired out, doesn't pause to catch his breath. And he knows everything, inside and out." Isaiah 40.28

Dwelling on the Little Things


Dwell
1: to remain for a time
2 a: to live as a resident
3 a: to keep the attention directed
b: to speak or write insistently

I spent this past weekend in the woods. We had our Fall Timber Bay camp up in Onamia, Minnesota. For those who do not know what Timber Bay is; it is a Christian organization that works with at-risk youths from our community. We work with kids who are referred to us from their social workers, their counselors and those who hear about us from their friends. I have been with them for over a year now.

We take the kids camping to remove them from their chaotic home lives and give them a break from what is usually a hard life. They get to experience an adventure with other kids from different areas and many adult counselors who really love them and care about who they are as individuals.

Honestly though, I have had my struggles. Because we encounter these teens in the midst of their difficult home lives, we do not often see the fruits of our labor. We counsel them, give them sound biblical advice about the choices they make and generally try to love on them.

The problem is that most of these teens do not have an abundance of trust. God is something unattainable and Jesus is a man they cannot necessarily relate to. To these kids, their problems are in the here and now and God is someone out there. It comes down to the proverbial question, “Where is God in all of my pain?”

Therefore, what we end up seeing is a lot of ‘admirers’ of Jesus rather than ‘followers’ of Jesus. There are moments when they can feel God’s love, and moments when we can show them Jesus as best we can as humans. Problem is, when they go back home, things return to ‘normal’ and life seems to remain the same.

As our brochure reads, “Youth who are in their early teens should still have that wonderful idea that anything in life is possible, that their bigger-than-life adventure is unfolding day-by-day. But for too many, life has grown jaded and cynical; they’re withdrawn and distrustful of adults.”

We as counselors spend a lot of time building trust in these teens, helping them to see they can depend on us to be there, without judgment, loving them despite bad choices and continuing to lead them to God’s grace and love.

Personally, I have seen girls make bad choices regarding drugs and sex, after I had spent considerable time counseling against these same things. It can be discouraging.

So, at camp this weekend, I observed the other Timber Bay groups, watching to see how kids from other areas interacted and responded to the Gospel messages. We never try to cram Jesus into their chaotic lives, choosing rather to live out Jesus to them day by day and gently chip away at the walls around their hearts.

At the end of the weekend, the kids had a chance to share how the weekend affected them and if they had any new revelations about God’s love for them. Hand after hand was raised, and all but one started their story the same; “I have been in foster care…” My heart began to break and I realized something that I had not before. These kids have all been tossed aside, by choices their parents had made or forces that had caused the kids to rebel in a way the parents could not handle. Either way, these kids spent every day in a house that was not theirs, with parents who were not theirs. Most of them act tough, until they are in a situation like camp, where adults love them and play games with them and talk to them like they are real people. Then they break down and let us all know how much they hurt sometimes.

Jesus really impressed upon my heart what we as Timber Bay counselors are up against. How can they know Me when they do not know earthly parents and unconditional love? We are up against a big challenge that takes time and patient love. These are not kids that can be tossed aside because they continue to make bad choices, or do not fall lock step in line with other Christian kids.

“I pray that out of His glorious riches He may strengthen you with power through His Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” Ephesians 3.16-19

Katoikew is the Greek word used here for ‘dwell.’ It means to make one’s home, to be at home. We need to be the ones to usher these teens into the home of Christ Jesus, where they can have the unconditional and eternal love of their true Father. What a beautiful picture; I do not even have the words to describe how this verb touches my heart. Jesus wants so badly to be their God, and for them to be His children. None of these kids are throw-away kids to Him, and they are not to me either. We are the ones called to be Jesus with skin on, establishing these teens in the love of their Father, who will never send them away from home, who will never look for someone else to raise them, who will never raise a hand to them.

I am blessed beyond measure that Jesus called me to dwell in His presence, and that He entrusts me with the fragile hearts of these teens. They are never to be disregarded, or discarded. Perhaps we are not privileged to see the fruits of our labor this side of heaven, but that is not really the point anyway, is it?

L'shanah tovah tikatevi v'taihatemi…

Or, Pausing to Utter

Utter:
carried to the utmost point or highest degree


Believe it or not, I waited to blog until today for a very specific reason. Today is the Jewish holiday of Rosh Hashanah. Specifically, it started at sundown last night and continues until sundown tomorrow. It is the Jewish New Year; the new year of new years, when they change the calendar. It is now the Jewish year 5769.

So, what does that have to do with me, a Christian, you may ask. Well, Jewish tradition is something that I have come to respect and appreciate. The customs that occur on Rosh Hashanah also coincide with my word of the week.

I have been hearing a lot of secrets lately. Things that Christians are choosing to carry the weight of themselves, rather than share with the brothers and sisters God has provided to them. That thought depresses me more than I can describe with simple words.

Where did we lose our way? The Acts church that I hear about so much, the one we all espouse to become, was not like this. In two places we are told how the first believers lived:

“All the believers were together and had everything in common.” Acts 2.44

“All the believers were one in heart and soul. No one claimed that any of his possessions were his own, but they shared everything they had.” Acts 4.32

We instantly think about money and material possessions. But think about it this way; in those close quarters, did they have many secrets? Could they hide much of anything from one another? In the original Greek New Testament, the reader was not able to distinguish between the words heart and soul in this text, but only that there was harmony in thought and affection.

That being said, I ask again, where did we lose our way? Is it our stubborn individualism that forces us to carry our burdens alone? Our rugged American ‘pull yourselves up by your bootstraps’ mentality has trapped Christians in a box. Is physical pain not worthy of sharing because you may seem weak? Are marital problems taboo because ‘true Christians’ would never understand? May that never be true!

If my sister is in pain, I want to carry that pain with her. I may not be able to help, but I believe I can help her carry it in spirit. I can certainly pray for her. That is not something to be taken lightly. When Jesus was asked what the greatest commandment was he replied “Love God, and love one another as yourselves.” I believe when we bear our burdens alone, without allowing one another to come along side of us, we are sinning.

Do not misunderstand. We are not called to run around telling everyone every little secret. We need to practice some safe discretion when it is called for. However, I think we take that a bit too far when we choose not to ‘complain’ or ‘unload’ or ‘whine.’ A very wise pastor has told me many times that the worst Christian swear word is ‘fine.’ As in ‘I’m fine.” Why do we choose to lie?

Peter was the apostle who at one time thought Jesus was ‘too important’ to wash his feet. Later in his life he wrote this:

“All of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because, ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.’” 1 Peter 5.5b

When we are humble in our weakness Jesus can use his body, us, to care for each other. When we are proud, no one can do anything.

Now, onto Rosh Hashanah. A popular practice of the holiday is Tashlikh ("casting off"). The Jews walk to flowing water, such as a creek or river, on the afternoon of the first day and empty their pockets into the river, symbolically casting off their sins. Small pieces of bread are commonly put in the pocket to cast off.

The ten days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are called the “Days of Awe.”

This is how Judaism 101 describes these days:
“One of the ongoing themes of the Days of Awe is the concept that G-d has "books" that he writes our names in, writing down who will live and who will die, who will have a good life and who will have a bad life, for the next year. These books are written in on Rosh Hashanah, but our actions during the Days of Awe can alter G-d's decree. The actions that change the decree are "teshuvah, tefilah and tzedakah," repentance, prayer, good deeds (usually, charity). These "books" are sealed on Yom Kippur. This concept of writing in books is the source of the common greeting during this time.”

“Among the customs of this time, it is common to seek reconciliation with people you may have wronged during the course of the year. The Talmud maintains that Yom Kippur atones only for sins between man and G-d. To atone for sins against another person, you must first seek reconciliation with that person, righting the wrongs you committed against them if possible.”

I know that God takes great interest when His people repent, pray and care for one another. If we truly want to be an Acts church, if we want to be ‘one heart and soul’ we need to step out in the faith we hold so dear and become a little more vulnerable to one another. We all need to consider what things we need to cast off, and I believe this to mean the secret pains we carry alone too. We need to be Utter Christians.

And, as I wrote the common greeting during these Days of Awe at the top of this message; “May you be inscribed and sealed for a good year.”

Εξετάζω, επομένως είμαι.
(I question, therefore I am.)

Question:
1: to ask a question of or about
2: to interrogate intensively:
3 a: doubt; dispute b: to subject to analysis

Three stories. Three very different women.

The first woman is my mother in Christ. She is the one that took it upon herself, with her Jesus, to wean me from milk to solid food. She patiently and passionately answered all of my questions about this God I had encountered. She was not afraid to show me her scars, her wounds, in order to display the truth of the Christian life. She believed that “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness.” 2 Timothy 3.16
But she questioned for a while in her life. She still does, but not to the extent she had at one point. During the period in her life when she had fallen away from Jesus, she worked at a grocery store. She later reflected that it seemed to her that every check that passed over her counter seemed to have a scripture verse on it, or an image of Jesus or the cross. She was certain that Jesus loved her even when she had walked away.
She used that story, and many others, to demonstrate the outrageous love of her Father. She lives her life unashamed of the poignant love between her and her God. That in despite of the fact that her children are distant from her. She instead, chooses to trust God that He is indeed working on their lives. She still questions certain aspects of her life; where she lives, where God wants her, things like that. However, she trusts God, in her own words, as a “Man of His word.”

The second woman is a dear friend in Christ. I have known her for several years, but I got to know her better this past weekend. She too has children that are estranged, but her grieving process is still more raw, closer to the surface. In truth, it has broken her. She reminded me of a scared doe, seeking something just beyond the horizon.
This weekend we were talking about the strengths God has bestowed upon His children. One of her strengths happened to be the gift of connectedness. A brief definition of connectedness: “…You gain confidence from knowing that we are not isolated from one another or from the earth and the life on it.” That gave her pain because she did not feel connected. She questioned where God was in this chaos, and where her ministry would be.
When she spoke of her feelings of disconnectedness, I felt God stirring uncontrollably in my Spirit. He was grieving for her pain, for what was being done to His precious daughter. It was at that point He told me to speak into her life.
I told her, quite truthfully, about my feelings of love for her. I expressed to her the feelings of God’s love that radiated from her. I told her how I would notice her from afar at church and just be thankful for her presence. I wanted her to know that I felt she was a model of how the Christian woman carried herself; with grace and a beautiful sense of God’s love.
God used that experience to break the strong chains that had surrounded her heart. I confess I had nothing to do with it; I was just a messenger with a word of love and encouragement.
By the end of the weekend, she was a changed woman. She had found the voice she feared was lost. The power and the force of God’s amazing grace was devastating.

Then we get to the third woman. She has had a life that defines the word pain. Divorced young in life with a young child, she struggled to cope. Having no job and no support, she relied on the government to help her raise her child. She was positive another love was on the way.
But it was never to come. Instead, her body became ravished by age and chronic pain. The demons of depression and isolation came to visit and took up residence in her life. She found herself alone, utterly alone. Television and cigarettes became her only friend. Her child was far away by that time, having run away from her own demons.
I tried to speak Jesus’ love into her life. She countered by describing all of the atrocities in the world, asking the age old question, “Where is God in all of the ugliness of this life?” was her cry. She related to me how much she had prayed to God for a new love, a restored relationship with her siblings and her daughter, anything to make her life a little better. At one point, she thought God had answered her prayers with a male companion, but he turned out to be a monster.
In the end, she was still inconsolable. She believed in God, she just didn’t believe He believed in her. This woman is my own mother.

I know in my heart of hearts that God loves these three women the same. He wants us to rail and thrash when we are confused, when we hurt. He loves us before we ever consider loving Him. Jesus cries when we cry, He is there when we hurt and we have to know and understand that with every part of our innermost being. In our deep parts where nothing else can penetrate, we have to know He is our strength.

“God is God. He is more than a superhuman being with an intellect keener than ours and a capacity for loving greater than ours. He is Unique, Uncreated, Infinite, Totally Other than we are. He surpasses and transcends all human concepts, considerations and expectations. He is beyond anything we can intellectualize or imagine. That is why God is a scandal to men and women-because He cannot be comprehended by a finite mind.” – Brennan Manning.

The difference between these three women is that the last one has let go of the right questions and has resorted to asking the wrong ones. She is wondering, “Why me?” There is no answer to that question. Her question should be, “Where are You in all this pain and suffering?” His answer? “Right here, precious daughter.” He may not remove the pain from any of us, but He will offer His peace and His love that fills any amount of loneliness and rejection. And those aren’t just words.

“You let the distress bring you to God, not drive you from him. The result was all gain, no loss. Distress that drives us to God does that. It turns us around. It gets us back in the way of salvation. We never regret that kind of pain. But those who let distress drive them away from God are full of regrets, end up on a deathbed of regrets. And now, isn't it wonderful all the ways in which this distress has goaded you closer to God? You're more alive, more concerned, more sensitive, more reverent, more human, more passionate, more responsible. Looked at from any angle, you've come out of this with purity of heart.” – 2 Corinthians 7.9b-11

The saddest part is that in our humanness, that can sound like just words. God can handle the questions; we need to handle the answers.

And in the end? The final question is answered. "He'll wipe every tear from their eyes. Death is gone for good - tears gone, crying gone, pain gone - all the first order of things gone." Revelation 21.4