Paul’s songs: His mercy is more

But God had patience

Romans 4:7-8 [quoting Psalm 32:1-2] “Oh, what joy for those whose disobedience is forgiven, whose sins are put out of sight. Yes, what joy for those whose record the Lord has cleared of sin.”

1 Timothy 1:15-16 Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—and I am the worst of them all. But God had mercy on me so that Christ Jesus could use me as a prime example of his great patience with even the worst sinners.

By God’s mercy, joy can become the other side of profound distress.I believe this in my head. In many ways I believe it in my heart as well. But it seems God is calling me today to a deeper experience of this joy.

Karis in 2009 with one of her doctors

Spring, 2009. Overwhelmed. Beyond fatigued. No longer tolerating the unrelenting stress. Teetering on the edge of emotional breakdown.

These words inadequately describe my condition when I made an impulsive decision to get out of Dodge. Or in my case, out of Pittsburgh.

Every other time I left Karis in Pittsburgh, I planned and prepared for weeks. The person (most often my generous sister Jan) who relieved me arrived a week ahead of time to get up to speed with the complexities of Karis care. Complexities that one home health agency after another declared too much for their nurses.

This time, no one could come. Desperate for relief, I patched together a care team of five people who reluctantly agreed to cover a day or two each. I “trained” them for a couple of hours, pointing out pages of written instructions they absolutely must follow. Ignoring my conscience, I got on a plane to Brazil. My home. A place to crash, to be accountable to no one. Precious friends who breathed life and energy back into my parched soul.

The first message came from the hospital. “The paramedics were able to stabilize Karis, but we will keep her here until you return.”

Adrenaline flooded me as I began throwing things back into my suitcase.

The next message was just as cryptic. A telegram from the kind friends who had given us space in their home when we could not afford an apartment: “Come back. Now.”

I went there first. The shouting began when I opened the door to the house. It included phrases like, “If she had died under my roof, I WOULD NEVER FORGIVE YOU! NEVER!” and “You are no longer welcome here.”

A bit at a time, the story emerged. One of the caregivers had given Karis ten times the correct dose of insulin. When the ambulance arrived, her blood sugar was 23.

God was merciful. Karis didn’t die. But this was only one of at least a dozen ways Karis could have died, from mistakes of well-meaning but inadequately prepared and resourced friends.

What on earth had I been thinking? How could I have done what I did, exposing my daughter to such danger—and my friends as well, when Karis’s care at home was deemed too difficult even for trained nurses?

The truth, of course, is that I wasn’t thinking about anything but my own survival. Eventually, with help, I was able to accept God’s forgiveness. My friend’s forgiveness—my friend who had sacrificially opened her home to us—and healing of our broken relationship took quite a bit longer.

This morning, out of the blue, I woke up to the startling question, Have I forgiven myself? Where did that come from? I must have been dreaming about this incident in 2009.

The tears that flooded my eyes bore mute testimony to the challenge in this question.

Yes, God was merciful. Karis did not die from my negligence. Profound mercy.

But finding mercy for myself? That’s … different. I don’t yet know how to get there.

And as I read again Paul declaring himself “the worst of sinners,” I wonder. Was he able to forgive himself?

Four other times in 2009 Karis almost died—not from negligence, but because of the extremity of her medical situation. Each of those times our family gathered from three continents to say goodbye. Each time, we experienced mercy as, beyond hope, God brought Karis back to us.

Today, perhaps, God in mercy invites me to a new level of healing. And of joy.

His Mercy is More Matt Boswell and Matt Papa

Paul’s songs: The Lesson of the Tambourine, by Barbara Alexander, Villers-St-Paul, France

But Jesus receives highest honor

Romans 14:11 [Isaiah 45:23] “As surely as I live,” says the Lord, “every knee will bend to me, and every tongue will confess and give praise to God.”

Philippians 2:9-11 [Isaiah 45:23] God elevated Jesus to the place of highest honor and gave him the name above all other names, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

My friend Barb lives in a small village in northern France. She’s very active in this community. Here’s Barb:

Yesterday morning, as is usual for most every Sunday in my life, I went to church. I long ago noted that drums are the only percussion instrument played during the worship time. So, being a musical person myself, I bring my little tambourine-on-a-stick in my purse each week, and I play it appropriately to add to the spirit of the livelier songs.

Occasionally one of the little kids in church (who know me from being in our home group together) sidles up to me with a hand outstretched toward my tambourine, ready to play it. Yesterday it was little 5-year-old Paul. So I placed his right hand on the wooden stick, tapping his left palm to the beat of the music, as he’s seen me do. My hands remained on top of his hands to make sure he played the instrument correctly.

We were both enjoying the dinging sound of the tambourine and how it added to the joy of the worship songs as I guided his hands. But every now and then Paul would begin his own rhythm and tapping, and I could feel his resistance to my guidance. When this began happening, I tried to gently encourage him. “Relax, Paul,” I’d say. “Let my hands help you do the rhythm.” After these words, he’d ease up and let me guide him, which kept a better rhythm than he made on his own. And we both enjoyed the sound we heard and were pleased with our contribution to the worship time.

In the midst of this experience, the thought occurred to me that it’s just like what God wants to do in my life. It was as if I heard Him saying, “Relax, my daughter – let My hands – My infinite hands – guide yours, let Me make the music you’re trying to make, and let Me send it through your life to those around you.” Wow! What a message!!

And the more I thought on it, the more it struck me how true it is – He’s got His infinite hands on my finite ones, and if I don’t resist Him, He will guide me to fulfill His perfect will for my life – He’ll make His music – the BEST music – in my life for those around me to hear – His words drawing them to Himself. All because I submitted to Him as my Sovereign Guide to help me “play my tambourine.”

I guess it all boils down to submission, doesn’t it? Just like little Paul, when he submitted to the guidance of my adult hands covering his childish ones. My prayer now: “Father, help me to see where I’m resisting You in my life, where I’m not letting You make Your music in and through me. I now submit to Your infinite Lordship. In Jesus’ Powerful, Almighty Name, Amen.”

Praise him with the tambourine and dancing; praise him with strings and flutes! Psalm 150:4

Paul’s Songs: Praise while suffering

But Jesus changed everything

Acts 16:22-25 The [Philippian] city officials ordered Paul and Silas stripped and severely beaten with wooden rods. Then they were thrown into prison. The jailer was ordered to make sure they didn’t escape. So he put them into the inner dungeon and clamped their feet in the stocks. Around midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening.

Last week some friends and I discussed how to deal with anger in our lives. I confessed that almost daily, my first reaction when I see or hear about cruelty and injustice isn’t praise; it’s profound frustration and anger. Frustration because of a feeling of helplessness, and anger because of how wrong it is to mistreat any of God’s beloveds, those for whom Jesus laid down his life. That is, every person. Sometimes I can’t sleep because of worry about who will be targeted next.

You too?

So I’m challenged by Paul and Silas’s reaction when they themselves were victims of cruelty and injustice. You can read the whole story in Acts 16. They suffered for doing good, for freeing a slave girl from bondage to a demon. Her owners lashed out against Paul and Silas because of greed: this girl had earned them a lot of money by telling fortunes.

I realize I’m writing this post primarily to myself! Would I sing and worship in the middle of the night if I were locked in a jail cell, my body aching from severe beating, my feet trapped in stocks making sleep impossible? How could Paul and Silas do this?

Flipping back to Paul’s conversion story in Acts 9, in verse 16 the Lord says, “I will tell Saul [who became Paul] how much he must suffer for my name’s sake.” Paul embraced the Gospel with his eyes wide open. No “health and wealth” promise here. Paul knew what following Jesus would mean for him. The treatment he and Silas received in Philippi was neither a surprise nor an isolated event.

Paul’s writings give us some other clues to why he could sing and worship in such dire circumstances. He considered suffering a privilege; in cahoots with Jesus in this way, he could draw closer to his Lord’s loving heart (2 Corinthians 1:5).

God taught Paul valuable lessons through his suffering:

We were crushed and overwhelmed beyond our ability to endure, and we thought we would never live through it. In fact, we expected to die. But as a result, we stopped relying on ourselves and learned to rely on God … We have placed our confidence in him. … We have lived with a God-given holiness and sincerity in all our dealings. We have depended on God’s grace, not on our own human wisdom (2 Corinthians 1:8-12).

God clarified Paul’s values: My old self has been crucified with Christ. … So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me (Galatians 2:20).

Singing and praise in the face of injustice and cruelty is above all an expression of trust. God is still sovereign. God is good, though people often are not. He already told us the end of this story: his justice will ultimately defeat evil perpetrated by the present but temporary ruler of this world, the enemy of our souls.

Further, while careful listening to our anger may clarify appropriate action to take in response, the first law of the Kingdom is love (John 13:34). Even for bad actors, as Paul himself was before his “But God” moment as he traveled the road to Damascus to kill the Lord’s followers there (Acts 9:1, 3). Won’t it be fun to hear stories of God’s grace coming out of the world’s present circumstances?

Today, all this is clear to me. I’m praying the Spirit will remind me to trust him and sing in the face of whatever darkness descends tomorrow.

The last song

But God’s faithful love endures forever

Matthew 26:30 Then they sang a hymn and went out to the Mount of Olives.

Psalm 136:1, 23-26

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good!