But God is amused

Acts 12:1-19 King Herod arrested Peter … under the guard of four squads of four soldiers each … The church prayed very earnestly for him … [An angel of the Lord springs him.] When he realized he was free, Peter went to the home of Mary, the mother of John Mark, where many were gathered for prayer. He knocked at the door in the gate, and a servant girl named Rhoda came to open it. When she recognized Peter’s voice, she was so overjoyed that, instead of opening the door, she ran back inside and told everyone, “Peter is standing at the door!” “You’re out of your mind!” they said … Meanwhile, Peter continued knocking. When they finally opened the door and saw him, they were amazed.

So, you may not feel I am being adequately respectful of God by saying he is amusable. But follow my logic here. Try to think about this story from God’s point of view. He’s just done a spectacular miracle in response to the believers’ prayers. And then Peter gets stuck out in the street while those same pray-ers decide God couldn’t possibly have done what they were asking him to do. Rhoda’s response is quite funny.

And there seems no “spiritual” reason for God to inspire Luke to include this story. I mean, poor Rhoda! But if we believe all Scripture is inspired by God, that applies here too. I think God wants us to laugh at and with those people. I imagine them retelling the story for years—to the point that it made it into Holy Scripture, handed down all the way to us.

Perhaps because I spend a fair amount of time with two toddlers and a preschooler, my life is filled with amusement. This week Caleb, 3 ½, has vacillated between being a giant crane (the machine kind) anxious to help move heavy things, and a funny pterodactyl (“engraçado” in Portuguese), swooping across the grass. I’m supposed to know how to address him at any given moment, and he’s quick to correct me if I get it wrong. His one-year-old sister doesn’t quite have the swooping down yet, but she’s trying! And I of course am required to swoop with them. The very picture of dignity.

When is the last time you did something silly? I would love to hear your stories!

But God extends grace

Acts 11:20-21, 28-29 Some believers who went to Antioch began preaching to the Gentiles about the Lord Jesus. The power of the Lord was with them, and a large number of these Gentiles believed and turned to the Lord … A prophet named Agabus predicted by the Spirit that a great famine was coming upon the entire Roman world. So the believers in Antioch decided to send relief to the brothers and sisters in Judea, everyone giving as much as they could.

Galatians 1:15 But before I was born, God chose me and called me by his marvelous grace.

Ephesians 2:8 God saved you by his grace … you can’t take credit for this: it is a gift from God.

My heart sank. “You’re kidding, right?” That’s what I thought, though I think I was a little more gracious than that to the Duquesne Incline ticket seller. It wasn’t her fault—I should have researched before spontaneously dragging my three-year-old Caleb and one-year-old Talita up all those steps from the parking lot to the next set of steps to the walkway across to the cars.

The thing is, I had already dragged the kids all the way back down to the car and up again in muggy 90-degree heat after discovering I had forgotten our face masks. Little Talita was soaked in sweat, her hair a sticky mass. Caleb stared at me in unbelief when I told him we wouldn’t be able to ride the Incline after all. I hadn’t realized it was cash only, and the credit card in my pocket had zero value. Nor could I imagine making the round trip again. Obviously, I wasn’t accustomed to riding on public transit, or I would have known about the need for cash.

A woman behind us in line heard my explanation to Caleb. As I turned to start our descent to the parking lot, she said, “Wait. How much do you need?”

“Well, the kids are free. So it’s just me.”

“Five dollars, then, round trip. I can give you five dollars, so the children aren’t disappointed. Let me do this.”

“What? Are you sure? I have no way to pay you back.”

“I’m sure. Here. Enjoy the ride.” Her smile was brilliant.

Ironically, on my way to pick up the kids, I heard on NPR a conversation about research demonstrating the benefits to the giver of showing kindness to others. I hope that was true for our benefactor! What a lovely random act of kindness. Though I might not recognize her again, she will forever occupy a warm place in my heart.

It tickles me to think God experiences joy when he gives to us. In my experience that happens like, all the time. Even when I don’t notice.

But God builds bridges across cultural and religious barriers

Acts 10:1, 28, 44-45 In Caesarea there lived a Roman army officer named Cornelius, who was a captain of the Italian Regiment … Peter told Cornelius and his household, “You know it is against our laws for a Jewish man to enter a Gentile home like this or to associate with you. But God has shown me that I should no longer think of anyone as impure or unclean.” … Even as Peter was speaking about Jesus, the Holy Spirit fell upon all who were listening to the message. The Jewish believers who came with Peter were amazed that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out on the Gentiles, too.

Colossians 3:11 In this new life, it doesn’t matter if you are a Jew or a Gentile … Christ is all that matters, and he lives in all of us.

I just finished reading a fascinating book set in 1880s India and England, A Tapestry of Light by Kimberly Duffy. As I commented in my review of the book on Goodreads, it’s a TCK story, at a time when the challenges of “third culture kids” weren’t as well recognized or understood. Indian and English hostility had hardened, and then-named Eurasians, descendants of both British and Indian parents, were caught in the middle, despised by both groups. Ottilie, the protagonist, is Eurasian, and doesn’t feel fully at home anywhere.

TCKs tend to feel the same way. A friend of Dave’s illustrated her feelings by calling her American heritage blue, her Ecuadoran upbringing yellow, and herself green, a blend of the two, not fully “herself” in either context. As I read A Tapestry of Light, I thought of the way TCKs from all over the world immediately bonded to each other, comfortable in common “greenness.”

Picture Cornelius, a Roman army officer hated by the people whose land his country occupied. And Peter, ingrained from birth with this hatred, with a consuming passion for freedom from Rome. And then God puts them together and by amazing grace on both sides, something brand new is formed, where what matters most is Christ’s deep love for all of them. Read the whole chapter to understand this better.

And I wonder: could Christ’s love be so compelling here, now, that it could lift us out of our divisions and hostilities and mistrust of one another into something new, redemption from our fears and our certainty that “we” are right, and “they” are wrong?

Cornelius and Peter show us such a thing is possible! Remember that old song we sang fifty years ago, “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me?” Lord, let it begin with me.

Ha! I found it! Wow, what a flood of adolescent memories are associated with this song for me!

But God said “Go”

Acts 9:1-5, 10-17 Meanwhile, Saul was uttering threats with every breath and was eager to kill the Lord’s followers … As he approached Damascus on this mission, a light from heaven suddenly shone down around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul! Saul! Why are you persecuting me?” “Who are you, lord?” Saul asked. And the voice replied, I am Jesus, the one you are persecuting … The Lord spoke to Ananias in a vision … “Go over to Straight Street … ask for a man named Saul. He is praying to me right now. “But Lord,” exclaimed Ananias, “I’ve heard many people talk about the terrible things this man has done to the believers! … But the Lord said, “Go, for Saul is my chosen instrument … So Ananias went and found Saul. He laid his hands on him and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus … has sent me so that you might regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.”

I bet if I were to ask Saul (later called Paul) to tell me his God story, he would first tell me this one—in fact, Scripture records him doing so many times, to various audiences. So, what’s your God story?We delight God when we tell what he does for us. Your stories, like mine, might not be as dramatic as Saul’s, but that doesn’t matter. All stories are good ones when t tohey honor God.

So here’s my story: I grew up in a missionary family, but it wasn’t until I was six that I understood Jesus had died for me and prayed the prayer, inviting Jesus into my life. My sister Marsha told me to write the date in the front of my Bible, so I would always remember this important event.

That’s it! Not dramatic at all. But of course, that was only the beginning. Remember when I mentioned that I started talking to God all the time? That began on February 26, 1961. Young as I was, from then on, I knew God was with me. I believe the Holy Spirit communicated that to me. I believe he preserved my life the first time I seriously considered ending it at age eight and several times after. Life wasn’t easy for me or for my siblings. Our mother was mentally ill, and our father didn’t know how to deal with that and protect us kids. I despaired many times, wounded as all of us were. But God, the Source of life, defended us—not from the wounding, but from ultimate despair. I am so grateful for his care for all eight of us.

The Lord says “Go!” to each of us in different ways. Right now, he’s saying to me, “Go love your precious grandkids.” So I’m off!

*At Brandywine Falls, Cuyahoga Valley National Park last weekend*

But God gave joy in a time of trouble

Acts 8:1, 4-8, 26-39 A great wave of persecution began that day [with the stoning of Stephen], sweeping over the church in Jerusalem; and all the believers were scattered. … But the believers who were scattered preached the Good News about Jesus wherever they went. Philip, for example, went to Samaria and told the people there about the Messiah. … So there was great joy in that city. … [Then God sent Philip to walk down a desert road.] He met the treasurer of Ethiopia, a eunuch of great authority … Philip told him the Good News about Jesus. … The Spirit of the Lord snatched Philip away. The eunuch ever saw him again but went on his way rejoicing.

“Karis my joy,” Dave used to call her, since we’d named her Karis Joy. And bringing joy to others delighted her.

“I wonder who God has for me in the hospital this time.”

Karis loved, loved, loved being home, having “a life.” So each time she had to be hospitalized she was bummed—if she was still conscious, that is. Usually, by the time we arrived at the ER, she had shifted into anticipation of who she might meet. Her dozens and dozens of hospitalizations were peppered with special encounters. As soon as she was well enough to be out of bed, she’d be out discovering who was there. Fellow transplant patients from a variety of nations, their children and other relatives, nurses, doctors, therapists—I could tell a thousand stories.

December, 2008 with one of Karis’s favorite doctors. She had been in the hospital for weeks. Finally we celebrated her homecoming, but the very next day she had to return, with bleeding from her intestine too severe to manage at home.

This attitude was not unique to Karis. Other patients also reached out, sharing life and encouragement. I remember Crysta’s little girl bringing Karis brightly colored and stickered cards. Angie shared a movie with us. Carissa brought modeling clay and books and what Karis called “intelligent conversation.” Some patients were one-timers, in Pittsburgh for special procedures. But the “regular” intestinal transplant crew, because most of them were long-term-care patients, became a family. Again, I could tell a zillion stories.

I’m smiling as I think about this. We laughed and wept, rejoiced and grieved for each other. Our nurses and doctors and therapists were wrapped into this community of love. Each loss—and there were so many—was cushioned within the blanket of comfort and understanding of others facing the same overwhelming challenges.

Karis had her eye out particularly for the international patients. With her five languages she could communicate with almost anyone, and the intestinal transplant world was truly a “united nations.” Everything we faced, they dealt with through the confusion of a foreign language and perplexing customs, far away from their usual support systems. Karis befriended them, in the hospital and out.

Joy.

But God shares our sorrow

Acts 7:59-8:2 As the Jewish leaders stoned him, Stephen prayed, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” He fell to his knees, shouting, “Lord, don’t charge them with this sin!” And with that he died. Saul was one of the witnesses, and he agreed completely with the killing of Stephen. A great wave of persecution began that day … Some devout men came and buried Stephen with great mourning. But Saul was going everywhere to destroy the church. He went from house to house, dragging out both men and women to throw them into prison.

Romans 8:17, 26 If we are to share Christ’s glory, we must also share his suffering … But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words.

Covid is battering our friends across South America. Daily, it seems, we hear of another heart-rending situation involving people we know and love. So while we delight in the re-opening of our lives here in the U.S., thanks to life-saving vaccines, we’re reminded constantly that this pandemic is not over. Nor will be in the foreseeable future.

A pandemic is one thing. Suffering people deliberately inflict on each other, as Saul did to the early church, is even more painful, especially if God’s holy name is used to justify wounding and destruction. Sadly, this is nothing new. I’m grappling with bitter historical realities in my research for Treasure Hunt 1904.

But God had a plan for Saul, and we’ll get to that in the next chapter of Acts. The time came when Saul, known later as Paul, wrote, “In my insolence, I persecuted God’s people. But God had mercy on me. Oh, how generous and gracious our Lord was!” (1 Timothy 1:13). God offers mercy and hope of transformation to anyone willing to hear his voice of compassion. Even the perpetrators. Inexplicably, he loves our broken world.

Paul continues telling Timothy that despite human arrogance, “He alone is God” (verse 17). God’s not rattled by my sense that the world (and even the church) has gone crazy. He’s still on his throne–remember Stephen’s vision? He has a plan.

So I offer to you, Lord, my sorrow and grief, my anger at what I see as manipulative and unjust, my worry about what’s happening in the U.S. and the world, my frustration with my own limited vision and frail faith.

And now maybe I can go back to sleep.

*Deer again ate my pansies–though not down to the dirt this time.*

But God reveals his glory

Acts 6:15, 7:54-56 [Jewish leaders arrest Stephen because men lied about him.] At this point everyone in the high council stared at Stephen, because his face became as bright as an angel’s. … The Jewish leaders were infuriated and shook their fists at Stephen in rage. But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, gazed steadily into heaven and saw the glory of God, and he saw Jesus standing in the place of honor at God’s right hand. And he told them, “Look, I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing in the place of honor at God’s right hand!”

Three and a half-year-old Caleb ran ahead of me up the hill to the walkway around our local reservoir. I followed more slowly, carrying his fifteen-month-old sister, Talita. When we reached the top and could see the water, Talita said one word, “Wow.”

Caleb was distracted by a family of ducks, with four little ducklings. “Grammy, why aren’t they saying quack, quack, quack?”

But Talita still stared at the sunlight dancing on the water. A toddler vision of glory.

One morning in church (pre-Covid) as I worshiped the Lord, I saw the angels in Heaven praising the Lamb on the throne. They were singing with us, our music. An affirmation. The memory of that vision still gives me goose bumps. It was so unprecedented for me I have seldom spoken of it.

Wow.

All three members of the Trinity were involved in the glorious vision God gave Stephen. I love the fact that Jesus stood to receive him, and that Stephen said so out loud, so witnesses could know what he was seeing and transmit it to us. Almost every other time in Scripture, Jesus sits at God’s right hand.

On this Lord’s Day, may God grace us with a glimpse of his glory.

Nothing else will matter.

But God brought them out

Acts 5:16-20, 32, 40-41 Crowds came from the villages around Jerusalem, bringing their sick and those possessed by evil spirits, and they were all healed. The high priest and his officials were filled with jealousy. They arrested the apostles and put them in the public jail. But an angel of the Lord came at night, opened the gates of the jail, and brought them out. Then he told them, “Go to the Temple and give the people this message of life!” … [When they were arrested again] Peter replied to the high priest, “God raised Jesus from the dead … We are witnesses of these things and so is the Holy Spirit, who is given by God to those who obey him.” … The high council had them flogged. Then they ordered them never again to speak in the name of Jesus, and they let them go. The apostles left the high council rejoicing that God had counted them worthy to suffer disgrace for the name of Jesus.

What imprisons you?

For me, as I mentioned in the last blog, it can be fear, or worry that I’m not capable of doing things “right,” in a way that will bless other people. Sometimes I’m paralyzed by anger at human injustice, deception and manipulation, and the suffering people endure at the hands of others, rather than using the energy of that anger to try to make a difference. Old messages from childhood can creep up and cripple me. The enemy of our souls knows where we’re vulnerable.

But God frees and heals me as I turn to him. He longs to free and heal you, too.

In Brazil, my husband Dave started a ministry of emotional healing called REVER. The acronym means “to see again,” or “to take a second look.” It stands for “restoring lives, equipping restorers.” Our kids grew up in the context of healing prayer ministry in our home and in our church. We watched God do one miracle of release and healing after another, as dramatic as the physical healings in Acts 5. Our church doubled, tripled, quadrupled in size as people met Jesus and experienced his love for them. Under Brazilian leadership, REVER has spread across Brazil and is active now in several Spanish-speaking countries. The Holy Spirit is alive and well!

Take a risk. Show God your shackles and your wounds. Ask him to release and heal you. If you know someone who loves God, ask him or her to support you in this prayer. Find people who can walk with you as you grow into freedom and health. Discover for yourself the joy of God’s care for you, the message of life he is speaking just for you.

I want to share with you one of Karis’s favorite songs:

But God makes us bold

Acts 1:8, 2:14, 3:12, 4:13, 18-20, 29, 31 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you. And you will be my witnesses … Then Peter stepped forward with the eleven other apostles … Peter saw his opportunity and addressed the crowd … The members of the council were amazed when they saw the boldness of Peter and John … [The Jewish council] called the apostles back in and commanded them never again to speak or teach in the name of Jesus. But Peter and John replied, “Do you think God wants us to obey you rather than him? We cannot stop telling about everything we have seen and heard.” … When they heard the report, all the believers lifted their voices together in prayer to God. “O Lord, hear their threats, and give us, your servants great boldness in preaching your word.” … After this prayer, the meeting place shook, and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit. Then they preached the word of God with boldness.

Thanks to you who responded either in the comments or to me by email.

Part of my response to the question of what happens when I spend time with Jesus is this issue of boldness. It’s this blog. It’s about TELLING what I have seen and heard.

A few years ago, I couldn’t have imagined putting myself into a public space like this. I was afraid of people, timid to the point of tangling all my words when I needed to speak to a stranger. When I was fourteen, shortly before I got on a plane to travel to the foreign United States to live among strangers, Mom asked me to inform guests staying in a nearby home that our mealtime would be delayed. I couldn’t do it. I walked around the length of time I thought it might take to fulfill Mom’s directive, then returned home. When our guests showed up at the previously arranged time, I didn’t know how to explain to Mom why I had not obeyed her. I always preferred the back of a room, the corner at a party. I happily let my more extroverted siblings fill any quiet space.

That’s why I wanted someone else to write the Karis book. I wasn’t afraid of the writing as much as what would be required of me afterward, talking about the book. Though here’s a strange thing: somehow, when I can speak in Portuguese, that timidity goes away. I have spoken with confidence and joy to as many as a thousand people at conferences in Brazil. For some reason, it’s in English that I feel my reticence triggered.

Over the months it took me to read Karis’s journals, though, God convicted me. “Remember” and “tell” jumped out at me from the pages of Scripture. I tried Moses’s arguments: “Who am I?” “What if they won’t believe me or listen to me?” “O Lord, I’m not very good with words. I get tongue-tied and my words get tangled.” And finally, “Lord, please! Send someone else.” In the end, it came down to, “Will you or will you not obey me?”

As I listened to the Lord and to Karis, I realized God had done so much for us that the story had to be told, with the hope of encouraging others. With my husband’s support, I tackled the huge task of sifting through our experience of God’s incredible faithfulness and confining the story to a couple hundred pages. And followed through with thirty-eight Stones of Remembrance gatherings in the six months after the book was published.

Still, I must regularly, daily, take my fears back to the Lord. To the extent my published words do encourage people—and each time I learn that has happened, I am encouraged—it’s because the Holy Spirit has given me boldness beyond what is natural to me. It may not seem like much to those of you naturally gifted with confidence. But for me, it is evidence that the Holy Spirit is at work in my life, as I spend time with Jesus. I am grateful.

But the Holy Spirit filled Peter

Acts 4:2-13 [After Peter and John took part in healing a blind beggar, Peter preached, and they were arrested and thrown in jail.] But many of the people who heard Peter’s message believed it, so the number of believers now totaled about 5,000 men, not counting women and children. The next day, the religious leaders brought in the two disciples and demanded, “By what power, or in whose name, have you done this?” Then Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, said, “The crippled man was healed by the powerful name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene” … The members of the council were amazed when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, for they could see that they were ordinary men with no special training in the Scriptures. They also recognized them as men who had been with Jesus.

Can you think of a more wonderful tribute than this one? Ordinary men, doing extraordinary things by the power of the Spirit. Ordinary men recognized by their critics as having been with Jesus… So lovely!

What happens when we spend time with Jesus? What happens when YOU spend time with Jesus? Take a minute to think about it.

Now, if you’re willing, write a response in the Comments. If you’d rather not go “public,” you can write just to me at debrakornfield@gmail.com.

I’ll share some of my own response to this question next time.

The resilient pansies persist!