Pegs

There is something so exhilarating about coming to the end of one thing with anticipation for the beginning of the next.  Today is a day to look back and also a day to look forward.  

Looking back on 2012, I realize that what has brought me the most joy has been the relationships in my life.  I’ve loved watching my kids enter new stages and witnessing their relationships with each other and with relatives grow over the past 12 months. I’ve seen huge strides in my marriage as we work together (and settle plenty of disagreements) fumbling our way through this thing called “parenting.”  I’ve been grateful for new friendships while I cherish the old ones.   

I’ve been tickled every time I get a letter in the mail from our sponsored child in Africa.  Getting to know him over the past year has been such a blessing.  I’ve been humbled as God has given me the opportunity to meet the needs of people who are just strangers to me but children of God’s. There have also been relationships that have caused pain, yet are being healed through forgiveness. 

Most of all, I am so grateful for the peace that God has given me in 2012.  Peace that comes as I walk closer and closer to Him.  Peace that fills in the gaps that come with waiting on Him.  Peace that I do not need to be anyone but His.

Last year, like every other year, I made a list of resolutions for 2012.  Looking back over that list today, I realized that I can only check off a few of them.  Some I found hilarious, like the one that said: I will change the lever-style handle on the pantry door to keep my toddlers out and my sanity intact. (Just last night Jake turned that same knob… yep, the one I changed in January… and helped himself to some jelly beans!)

Some on the list are good goals to keep in mind all the time, like exercise and choices regarding my diet and health.   But over half of them involved working on some kind of relationship…. My children, my husband, my family, my neighbors, my friends, and yes, even strangers.

Looking ahead to 2013, a new year with lots and lots of blank pages, I decided to take a new approach to the whole “resolutions” thing.  Exactly a year from now, I hope and pray that those relationships I’m thankful for today will grow even more in the next year.  I was reading in Matthew this morning out of The Message translation, and I realized that I do not need a To-Do List for 2013.  Matthew 22:37-40 makes it pretty simple:

Jesus said, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence.’ This is the most important, the first on any list. But there is a second to set alongside it: ‘Love others as well as you love yourself.’ These two commands are pegs; everything in God’s Law and the Prophets hangs from them.”

Earlier this month, Jake and Lilly helped paint some clothespins for an art wall in the corner of their playroom.  With two kids bringing home artwork weekly, the fridge was quickly becoming overcrowded with glitter paint, pom-poms and cut-outs.   

So with a couple of hooks and a long piece of string, we made our own artwork display.  As I read this verse in Matthew, I thought about those painted clothespins.  I thought about how those tiny wooden pegs are the only things holding up their precious art. 

In my own life, I know that the only display of beauty I could ever hope for in 2013 must hang from those two commands that Jesus talked about… Loving God and loving others.  Nothing else really matters.  Without those two pegs, everything else would fall.  Nothing will hold up on the clothesline of life without LOVE.  Without my dedication to grow in my relationship with God and in the relationships with those around me, my list of resolutions is only a bunch of empty good intentions.

 

After walking into my kids’ playroom and getting an instant visual of what Jesus was saying, I looked up the word hang.  The Greek word used in this verse is kremannymi.  It’s the same word used of one hanging on a cross.  Through that one little word, God reminded me that the only way I am able to even attempt to follow these two commands is through Jesus and what He did when He hung on a cross for me.  Because of His sacrifice, I can have a relationship with God that is real and thriving.  Because Jesus lives inside me, I can love the people in my life who don’t always love me back.  The command to love just goes back to how great God’s love is for us that He would come to this place just to save us.

So, with a freeing sense of priorities aligned, and an overwhelming desire to love a God who loves me just as I am, I’m committing to keep this verse as my focus for 2013 and for the year after that and the year after that and the year after that.

Our 2012...

 

 

Happy 2013!!

Song in the Night

By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me- a prayer to the God of my life. Psalm 42:8

My heart is heavy.  It seems as if everywhere I turn, there is sad news.

But this is the season of Good News. 

With Christmas less than a week away, I can’t help but think about those mommies and daddies in Connecticut who will have unopened gifts beneath their trees.  I think of the children who lost a parent and are trying to make sense of a senseless tragedy that will change the rest of their lives. 

My heart aches for my little boy’s pre-school teacher, who will spend her first Christmas without the love of her life.  I think of Cody’s grandma, MeMe, who just lost her soul-mate less than two weeks ago and wonder what it must be like to grow old with someone and then wake up one day and they’re not here anymore. 

My heart can’t seem to grasp the helplessness my sweet friend must feel as she sits beside her little girl in a hospital bed when they should be at home wearing fuzzy slippers, sipping hot chocolate and making cookies to leave out for Santa on Christmas Eve. 

As I sat down today to pray, all I could get out was, “Jesus, my heart is so, so heavy.”  Words would not come, but tears did.  Lots and lots of tears for all the breaking hearts. 

I so badly wish there was an explanation for all the tragedy, the heartbreak, the loss and grief, all the unanswered questions and uncertainties.  I want to tuck it safely inside a box, wrap it up in pretty paper, and place a shiny bow on top.  But I know that there isn’t an explanation that will help my heart feel less heavy.  There are no words that can take away the pain that these families are feeling. 

This week, I’ve been reading about a king.  He was a great-great-great-grandson to King David.  This King Jehoshaphat is not a king that I remember learning a whole lot about in Sunday school.  2 Chronicles 20 tells of how he responded when devastating news came upon the people of Judah.  When word came that a great and powerful army was coming against them and approaching quickly, King Jehoshaphat turned to God for help.  Verse 4 says that “the people of Judah came together to seek help from the Lord; indeed they came from every town in Judah to seek him.” 

King Jehoshaphat prayed to the Lord in front of the whole group of people gathered.  The last line of his prayer has stayed with me all week.  

“Our God, will you not judge them?  For we have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us.  We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.” (2 Chronicles 20:12)   

And then, this evening, as I was thinking about how these words spoken by a king all those years ago were exactly the words my heart was crying out, I read the verse that followed.

“All the men of Judah, with their wives and children and little ones, stood there before the Lord.” (2 Chronicles 20:13) 

As I listen to the radio, watch the news, read blogs, I am aware of one thing:  Every heart is breaking for those families who will attempt to pick up the shattered pieces of a life they once knew. Our hearts break for mommies, for daddies, for sons, for daughters, for brothers and sisters, for husbands, for wives.   All of us are aware of the blessings we tend to take for granted.  We are all pulling our children closer, making more of each moment, and vowing not to ever take a single day with our loved ones for granted. Psalm 34:18 says, "If your heart is broken, you'll find God right there." (MSG)  That's because His heart is breaking, too.  He's there, sorting through the rubble of broken hearts.  He's always right there.

We are all at a loss for words.  And yet, here and there are glimmers of hope woven into the sadness.  There are scripture verses that promise comfort for the broken-hearted.  There is the love of God displayed in helping hands.  There are prayers for strangers.   There are Christmas carols that declare the birth of a Savior.  We are a people with our eyes on the Lord.  We are desperately waiting, hoping, praying, because we do not know what to do.

As the people of Judah waited for an answer from God, He sent a messenger to proclaim to the people, “Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army.  For the battle is not yours, but God’s.” (2 Chronicles 20:15)  Then in verse 21 we read that King Jehoshaphat “appointed men to sing to the Lord and to praise him for the splendor of his holiness as they went out at the head of the army, saying:  ‘Give thanks to the Lord, for his love endures forever.’”  In the midst of a very dark night, the people sang songs to God.  The choir went out before the soldiers.

The Bible says, “Be filled with the Spirit, speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (Ephesians 5:18-20, emphasis mine)   

The Spirit who lives within us gives us our song to sing in the darkest of nights.  The same God who gives us songs in the night gave the angels a song to sing one dark December night, many years ago.

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people.  Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

Luke 2:8-14

God, through His gentle Spirit, shows up in middle of the night to put a song of praise on our lips.   And the One we sing of is the same One we honor at Christmas.  Jesus.  He is our song.  He is our answer.  He is the One we look to when we don’t know what to do.  He is the Light in the darkness.  He is our Song in the night.

The story of King Jehoshaphat ends in victory.  2 Chronicles 20:22 says, “As they began to sing and praise, the Lord set ambushes against the men of Ammon and Moab and Mount Seir who were invading Judah, and they were defeated.”   After reading this story about a king who led his people to walk in faith, certain that God would keep His promise, I am reminded that we are holding onto a promise, too.  Jesus is the promise, and He has already won the battle. 

God knows why our hearts are breaking.  We were not made for this dark place.  We cannot make sense of it, because this is not our home.  Revelation 21 talks about a new city, a Holy City, a city where there won’t be any night, a city with no more death or mourning or crying or pain, a city with no more tears.

Jesus, we are waiting on you.  We are looking to you, Jesus, our Light in the dark.  Until then, Jesus, we will sing our songs in the night, praising Your name as we wait.

Now

The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.  Psalm 121:8

Heaven is talked about when someone we love dearly is at the end of their life.  Eternal life is what those who know Christ look forward to when this life is over.  I’ve thought a lot about heaven and eternity this week.

PePaw, Cody’s grandpa, went to heaven this week.  He was a man of faith, who walked and talked with God.  He was ready to go home and when he left, he went peacefully.  On Friday morning, Kim, my father-in-law, drew the curtains back and looked out the hospital window, and said to his father laying in the bed behind him, “Well, Dad, it looks like a good day to go to heaven.”  He turned around after saying those words and watched PePaw take his last breaths. 

In John 11:25-26, Jesus says, “I am the resurrection and the life.  The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die.”  He made this statement right before raising Lazarus from the dead.  The timing of his statement and the miracle he performed is not coincidental.  Jesus was making a point.  This week that phrase has stuck with me.  “I am the resurrection and the life.”  I Am.

As I thought about and prayed for PePaw and those close to him this week, I was reminded that eternal life does not begin when we die.  It all comes down to knowing God now and continuing that relationship forever.  John 17:3 says, “Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.”  “I Am That I Am” is the name that God gives himself in Exodus 3:14.  This name for God speaks to our present.  It meets us in the now.  Jesus is the life now. 

When the chaplain at the hospital came to pray with the family after PePaw had passed, she noticed that she was talking with a family of faith.  She recognized their grief in his passing, but it was sadness, not devastation, for they knew that PePaw was in a better place.  The chaplain told the family, as they stood around PePaw, that she had seen a lot in the ten years she’s worked as a hospital chaplain.  She told them that when someone has lived by faith and has talked to God (in PePaw’s case right up until he took his last breath), they die a good death.  A peaceful death.  She said that when someone dies who does not know God, it’s never a good death.  I have only known PePaw the past eleven years.  I did not know him well, but his faith was evident during his last days.  In listening to my husband, his only grandson, talk about the last conversation he had with his grandpa, I caught a glimpse into his heart.  He knew his time here was up, and he didn’t waste any time getting ready to go.

As I thought about the chaplain’s words, I read this in 1 Timothy 4:8: “For bodily exercise profits a little, but godliness is profitable for all things, having promise of the life that now is and of that which is to come.” (NKJV)  The promise of eternal life is a gift we can accept now through our relationship with Jesus.  We get to live on this earth and know God now, and look forward to the day when we will see him face-to-face in our new home where we will live forever.

PePaw with Jake, taken earlier this year