Repair

But Jesus sees right into our hearts Lenten/Easter question #20

John 21:15-19 After breakfast Jesus asked Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” …

Normally, Pittsburgh weather is what my grandson Caleb calls “boring.” The main question we have to ask at this time of year while nature is bursting into all its bright colors is whether it will be raining or whether we’ll be blessed with a few coveted hours of sunshine.

Tuesday, though, broke the mold. No, not a hurricane or even a tornado, as I explained to Caleb–I was at their house when the storm hit. But we had wind gusts up to 80 mph that killed three people; according to our local news:

Tuesday evening’s storm left a wake of destruction in the Pittsburgh area. Large oak trees toppled from the strength of the winds and roofs were torn off of buildings. Duquesne Light said restoration across the area could take five to seven days, calling the event “unprecedented.”

Over 400 workers rolled into town yesterday to aid Duquesne Light with restoration efforts. We were without power for only 24 hours. The main thing we have to show for it is this “storm art.” Pretty cool, eh?

For our daughter Rachel’s family, though, the adventure is ongoing.  “Fireworks!” my granddaughter Liliana exclaimed looking up at the electric pole by their house as she and her sister arrived home from preschool in a torrent of rain, with downed wires on the sidewalk. We hope some of the emergency workers will make it to their neighborhood today. Unfortunately, everything in their house is electric, including their stove.

Here’s what the electric pole right by their house looks like, with the top section snapped off and lying precariously on other wires:

Photo by Rachel’s husband Brian

Needless to say, they’re not parking by their house right now!

All this pales before the devastation, self-inflicted, Peter experienced after Jesus’s arrest in Gethsemane. Just that evening he had declared, “I’m ready to die for you.” Instead, he buckled at three suggestions that he was associated with Jesus. Luke tells us Peter went out and wept bitterly (22:62).

The time has finally come, in this last chapter of John, for Peter to confront his cowardice. Just as he had denied Jesus three times, Jesus asks him, reverting to his old name, the name used in Luke 5, “Simon, do you love me?”

Interestingly, Jesus asks Peter twice, “Do you agape me?” Agape is supernatural, grace-filled, absolutely dependable love. But Peter responds, “Yes, Lord, you know I phileo you.”

The third time, Jesus accommodates Peter. Apparently, he recognizes phileo (brotherly or family love) is all that Peter is capable of claiming at this moment. Jesus has made his point. He has steadfastly loved Peter with agape love through thick and thin, and this is what he wants Peter to grow into.

Agape is the love Jesus shares with his Father. In his prayer for his disciples recorded in John 17, Jesus says, “I have revealed you to them, and I will continue to do so. Then your love (agape) for me will be in them” (John 17:26). Jesus wants all of his followers—you and I included—to experience and practice agape.

In his little book The Four Loves, C. S. Lewis delves into the diverse nuances we miss because four different Greek words are all translated into one English word “love.” At the same time this wordplay is going on between Jesus and Simon Peter, though, another dynamic is at play. Jesus has been preparing Peter to lead. What will Peter’s leadership look like, when Jesus is no longer around to be the leader?

Jesus sums it up in two simple phrases: “Feed my lambs,” the Shepherd tells him (can you feel the affection?) and “Take care of my sheep.” “Be like me in this way too,” I hear Jesus speaking into Peter’s brokenness. “Care for others in the same gentle, committed, insightful, sacrificial way I am caring for you right now.” THIS is leadership in the Kingdom (see Matthew 20:25-28), the same servant love Jesus demonstrated in washing the disciples’ feet.

It’s a reprise not just of Luke 5, but of John 13 after Jesus washed the disciples’ feet, just before Jesus warns Peter he will deny Jesus. “I am giving you [all the disciples] a new commandment: Love (agape) each other. Just as I have loved (agape) you, you should love (agape) each other. Your love (agape) for each other will prove to the world that you are my disciples.”

How’s that going in your part of the world?

Reprise

But Jesus is a master of reconnection Lenten/Easter question #19

John 21:3-5 Simon Peter said, “I’m going fishing.” “We’ll come too,” they all [six other disciples] said. So they went out in the boat, but they caught nothing all night. At dawn, Jesus was standing on the beach, but the disciples couldn’t see who he was. He called out, “Fellows, have you caught any fish?

Luke 5:10 (Matthew 4:19, Mark 1:17) Jesus replied to Simon, “Don’t be afraid! From now on you’ll be fishing for people!”

Sudoku. That’s my “go to” when I want something familiar and comfortable. When I’ve been stretched mentally, socially, spiritually, or emotionally. What I love about sudoku, beyond the satisfaction of solving the puzzle, is the fact that there’s only one right answer. The rest of the world may present confusing, chaotic conundrums and confounding challenges. Sudoku is “safe.”

The disciples do something similar in John 21. They are comforted, of course, by knowing Jesus is alive again, but he “randomly” shows up and then disappears again. It’s not clear, though, what happens next. Without his leadership, they don’t know what to do with themselves. Peter and Jesus have not yet dealt with the elephant in the room, his three-fold denial. Beyond his grief and self-recrimination, I’m sure he feels disqualified from the leadership role Jesus had been mentoring him into.

Shutterstock: wanida tubtawee

Going fishing, a familiar throwback to the disciples’ old lives before they met Jesus, promises a time out, an activity they can do with confidence and competence. Sunshine above them sparkling on the water, the fresh breeze, the creaking and smells of the boat, the feel of the nets in their hands, the joy of working together with beloved companions, of doing something (not just waiting for Pentecost), the anticipation of roast fish … Ahhh

How often do you do something similar when you’ve been overwhelmed, stretched beyond your comfort zone?

There’s a lot more to Jesus’s simple question “Have you caught any fish?” than a request for information from someone wanting to cook fish for breakfast. John 21 is a masterfully creative reprise of Luke 5 that only an omniscient designer could have achieved. To appreciate it, re-read Luke 5:1-11. For a vivid visual, watch The Chosen’s interpretation of this so-important day in Peter’s life.

“Don’t be afraid! From now on you’ll be fishing for people!” Jesus told Simon, whom he later renamed Peter (Luke 5:10), in a lifechanging “But God” moment Peter doubtless never forgot.

Fast forward a year and a half. “Have you caught any fish?”

I see Jesus accomplishing several things with this question, beyond the disciples’ physical need for nourishment after fishing all night.

*Jesus validates their deeper calling, to be “fishers of men,” a calling they had ample reason to abandon, after they abandoned Jesus in his hour of deepest need.

*Jesus refocuses their attention, after the trauma of the crucifixion and the confoundment of his resurrection. In essence, I think he’s saying, “It’s time to get back to the real work—you know what to do.”

*With his invitation to breakfast (v. 12), Jesus tells them he still cares about them; he still treasures time with them; the rich conversations they had shared on countless such mornings, tramping around Palestine; the friendships they had all cultivated with each other.

*Jesus sets Peter up for the final questions he asks in the gospel of John, the subject of our next post, the last of our “twenty questions.”

Eyewitness

But Jesus shows us the Father  Lenten question #16 

John 14:8-9 Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” Jesus replied, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and yet you still don’t know who I am? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father!

Colossians 1:15 Christ is the visible image of the invisible God.

Hebrews 1: 3 The Son radiates God’s own glory and expresses the very character of God, and he sustains everything by the mighty power of his command.

I’m trying to write a book to help kids understand the Trinity (right—as if I understand the Trinity!).  Scriptures about the relationships between the Father, Son, and Spirit have fascinated me for a long time.

Bear with me here while I try to articulate a few thoughts. If you’re familiar with Karis’s story, you know that she loved to share her faith with Muslim people, in Arabic if that was their heart language. To the extent that she could, she became part of the Muslim community here in Pittsburgh, both in and out of the hospital. She had always wanted to live in North Africa. That was not possible because of her health, but God surprised her by bringing Arabic speakers here, in large part because her chief transplant surgeon was Egyptian.

When I think about Philip in this passage from John, I feel like I understand him better because of what I observed through Karis’s friendships. It seemed to me that our Muslim friends had an “Old Testament” faith, as of course did the Jewish people before Jesus came to earth. They talked about God in similar ways to what I hear even from Christians when they reference the “God of the Old Testament”: majestic, holy, distant, judgmental, punishing, strict, deserving of all our devotion but unknowable, too far above and beyond us to feel any true intimacy in relation to him.

My Old Testament professor in college tried to dissuade his students of this perspective of God as revealed in the most ancient Scriptures. He believed the Father’s love shone through just as much in the Old Testament as in the New. But I’m not sure he was very successful about changing our minds. After all, people DIED by even touching the Ark of his presence to keep it from falling onto a rough road (2 Samuel 6:6-7). Despite the passages describing God’s love and care, God in the Old Testament inspired more terror in us than affection.

If Philip carried some of these same sentiments about God the Father, it’s not surprising that he did not immediately connect Jesus—the Jesus he watched heal and gently care for people, the Jesus he walked, talked, ate, slept, laughed, and wept with—as being the same as the God he knew.

That’s largely the point of the Incarnation, right? That Jesus would give people a more accurate understanding of the Father’s heart and character. Without knowing Jesus, would Dr. Schultz have “read back” into the Old Testament the nature of God as essentially loving? I don’t know. “My Father and I are one,” Jesus said again and again.

John’s passion for this theme comes out in his three letters to the churches. Try to put yourself in his place—try to imagine for a moment that you have never understood these truths—and feel John’s excitement as he wrote,

We proclaim to you the one who existed from the beginning,

Whom we have heard and seen.

We saw him with our own eyes

And touched him with our own hands.

He is the Word of life.

This one who is life itself was revealed to us and we have seen him.

And now we testify and proclaim to you that he is the one who is eternal life.

He was with the Father; and then he was revealed to us!

We proclaim to you what we ourselves have actually seen and heard

So that you may have fellowship with us.

And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ.

We are writing to you so that you may fully share our joy.

1 John 1:1-4

Has YOUR idea of God been transformed by knowing his Son, Jesus?

Choose your own adventure

But Jesus heals our vision Lenten question from John #11

John 9:32-38[The formerly blind man told the Jewish leaders] “Ever since the world began, no one has been able to open the eyes of someone born blind. If this man were not from God, he couldn’t have done it.” “You were born a total sinner!” they answered. “Are you trying to teach us?” And they threw him out of the synagogue. When Jesus heard what had happened, he found the man and asked, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” The man answered, “Who is he, sir? I want to believe in him.” “You have seen him,” Jesus said, “and he is speaking to you!” “Yes, Lord, I believe!” the man said. And he worshiped Jesus.

Hmm. Deflecting a legitimate perspective by using contempt. Where have we seen that before?

My seven-year-old grandson recently received from his uncle a set of “choose your own ending” stories. My husband spent an hour with him a few nights ago exploring all the possible conclusions to one set of scary circumstances before finding the one happy ending that could allow Caleb to sleep in peace.

Shutterstock: Sarayut Sridee

I’ve written before on this blog about John 9, one of the most carefully crafted, intriguing chapters in the whole Bible with its intricate word play on the concept of blindness and vision. Since John doesn’t tell us what happened next in the formerly blind man’s life, we can imagine a number of possible outcomes of his rejection by the Jewish leaders when he naively (it seems) spoke truth to power. His vision went far beyond his new experience of physical sight.

  • Did his parents continue to reject him, to preserve their status in the synagogue?
  • Did the newly sighted man join the disciples in following Jesus around the countryside? If so, what did this lead to? Successful integration in the church birthed at Pentecost? Martyrdom? A mission to some other country?
  • What skills other than begging and dormant abilities and passions did he develop?
  • Did he meet a wonderful woman to marry and create his own family?

Hey, you could start with John 9, invent a past and a future for this man based on historical research, give him relationships with intriguing events and people and write a novel! The theme to explore: What did it mean for a man blind from birth, assumed to be paying the consequence of his own sin (in the womb??) or his parents’ to respond affirmatively to Jesus’ question: Do you believe in the Son of Man?

And what does this question mean to you today, in your circumstances, with your history, your relationships, your fears and expectations for your future? John’s entire Gospel compels our response to this question. What adventure will you choose?

Why can’t I hear?

But Jesus speaks truth Lenten question from John #10

We’re only halfway through Jesus’s twenty questions recorded by John! To get through all of them during Lent, we’ll have to pick up our pace—and that means spending more time with the Lord–making room in our hearts for what he wants to tell us. This is what Lent is all about. Let’s not lose the blessings God has for us as we head toward Holy Week.

John 8:36-37, 43, 47 [Jesus replied] “If the Son sets you free, you are truly free. … Some of you are trying to kill me because there’s no room in your hearts for my message. … Why can’t you understand what I am saying? It’s because you can’t even hear me! … Since I am telling you the truth, why don’t you believe me? Anyone who belongs to God listens gladly to the words of God.

I couldn’t hear her.

A person I dearly love spoke words of truth that lacerated my heart and triggered all my defenses.

One thing I understood clearly: I was no longer safe or welcome in her home. I had to get out, as quickly as possible.

I couldn’t, at that time, “listen gladly.” It took me years, literally, to acknowledge and begin to deal with what she said to me. I couldn’t do it by myself. I needed the support and insights of a skilled and compassionate counselor to allow myself to accept and grow from the sharp stab of truth.

The instinctive response of the people in John 8 to the devastating truths Jesus told them (read verses 42-47) was to free themselves by attempting to kill him. Hate the message? Get rid of the messenger.

Remember the disciples’ reactions later on, when Jesus is arrested? They ran away. Peter denied even knowing Jesus. It’s easy to judge them, but in their situation, what would you and I do? In my life, will I stand firm with Jesus, even if this proves costly?

As we approach the time of year when we remember the significance of the crucifixion, John calls us to find the courage to listen to Jesus, and find the wisdom to distinguish his voice from the many others clamoring for our attention, some of them claiming to be his voice yet not producing the fruits of truth and love.

What is blocking me from hearing God’s words to me today? What defenses are triggered in unhealed and fearful places in my mind and my heart? How can I reach the place of listening gladly to his words? Do I need to talk this over with someone whom I trust to help me understand?

Judge correctly

But Jesus looks beneath the surface Lenten question from John #9

John 7: 23-24 [Jesus said] Why should you be angry with me for healing a man on the Sabbath? Look beneath the surface so you can judge correctly.

1 Samuel 16:7 The Lord doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.

Have you ever been judged or dissed for doing something right, or for the way you look, or by a decision you make? By people you love or look up to and whose opinion matters to you?

It hurts.

“Judging by outward appearance” is endemic on social media and has been particularly harmful to kids, teens and young people, for whom social acceptance is even more important than for adults. I loved seeing this positive one-year report on Australia’s phone ban in schools, giving children freedom to just be kids. My own fast from Facebook this Lent has given me a sense of freedom that makes me unsure whether I’ll go back—though I miss tracking people I care about.

Shutterstock: Sascha Burkard

Failure to look beneath the surface harms adults as well. We’re so conditioned to make snap judgments about people based on one or two factors we’ve been told defines them as “bad” or objectionable. We too easily write off a person’s entire life—all that they’ve done and been that’s been good in the world—when we learn they’ve broken one norm we believe to be sacrosanct.

Like the Jewish leaders did to Jesus when he healed a man on the Sabbath. They cared more about their definition of proper behavior than about celebrating Jesus’ ability to free a man from an illness which had derailed his life for 38 years (John 5).

Like deciding a tattoo brands a person as being a member of Tren de Aragua and thus treating him like a criminal, despite all other evidence to the contrary—even though tattoos have never been used by Tren de Aragua to identify its members.

Like shunning people visiting our churches who don’t fit our norms of dress and appearance.

And so much more. I’m sure you can list examples too, because we notice these things in other people.

The question for today is: How am I seeing and judging people based on appearances? Where do I need to look beneath the surface?

It’s so easy to see this in others. Yet I know I can be blind to this tendency in myself. Here’s an idea that may take some courage to implement: Ask people who know me where they have observed me doing this, judging too quickly, failing to see as God sees—not just people who would naturally share my biases, but people who stretch me outside my comfort zone.

Scary. I need to be prepared to hear things that are painful. And can help me grow to be more like Jesus.

Dark valleys

But Jesus never leaves us Lenten question from John #8 April 5, 2025

John 6:58-69 [Jesus said] “I am the true bread that came down from heaven. Anyone who eats this bread will not die as your ancestors did.” … Many of his disciples said, “This is very hard to understand. How can anyone accept it?” Jesus was aware that his disciples were complaining, so he said to them, “Does this offend you? Then what will you think if you see the Son of Man ascend to heaven again? The Spirit alone gives eternal life. Human effort accomplishes nothing. And the very words I have spoken to you are spirit and life.” … At this point many of his disciples turned away and deserted Jesus. Then Jesus turned to the Twelve and asked, “Are you also going to leave?” Simon Peter replied, “Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life. We believe, and we know you are the Holy One of God.”

Proverbs 3:5-8 Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. … Don’t be impressed with your own wisdom. Instead, fear the Lord and turn away from evil. Then you will have healing for your body and strength for your bones.

Many times during our daughter Karis’s thirty year history, I questioned and doubted that God knew and cared about what she was going through. It’s tough to watch your child in unrelenting pain and loss and to feel helpless to protect and provide for her and to ease her suffering.

God didn’t explain himself to me. The consistent message I received was that I was free to walk away from him. But then I wouldn’t know his Presence, his comfort, or his guidance. I would likely become angry and bitter, and miss his many, many good gifts along the way. Life would become hollow and hopeless. I would be a mess emotionally and have little to offer to my family.

Even if we walk away from the Lord in our tough times, he will never leave us Shutterstock: Mike Ver Sprill

This passage from John is theologically complex. I’m not going to get into that. What stands out to me is how easy it is to doubt God and walk away from him when something happens that we don’t understand.Have you had this experience?

I know that many people, including myself, are tempted by this kind of despair right now, as events and decrees across our country threaten the wellbeing of people we love in myriad ways. Yesterday I talked with a friend who said, “They are deliberately trying to exterminate people like me.” She has solid justification for this deep fear. If Karis were still alive, I would have the same fear for her life.

What do we do with this kind of distress? “Bandaid” answers don’t help, like “Don’t worry; everything will be OK” or “Just trust God—obviously you’re anxious because you don’t have enough faith.” All they do is show the one in distress you want out—you don’t want to feel what she feels. These responses make the one in fear feel more isolated and alone than they already were.

How can we respond? First, listen deeply to our own hearts and to others. Then, acknowledge our distress to God. Tell him exactly how we feel and why. Entrust our fears to the Lord. Ask him to take our burden of fear and anxiety, as he has already done on the cross. Open our hearts to receive his peace, peace that doesn’t depend on understanding our circumstances, but rather, on trusting him and his love for us. And do this again, every time fear and anxiety stir in us once more. Several times a day if needed.

The things we fear can actually happen. Our faith does not make us immune. Jesus assures us that we will not walk through tough times alone. He has promised to walk with us, to bear our burdens, to NEVER leave or forsake us. That’s what we depend on. We may not understand what we’re going through. But our Lord does understand us and how much we need his presence with us, his encouragement and his strength.

We are not alone. Even in dark valleys where nothing seems to make sense.

What’s your story?

Lenten question from John #6

John 5:46-47 If you really believed Moses, you would believe me, because he wrote about me. But since you don’t believe what he wrote, how will you believe what I say?

Matthew 5:17 Don’t misunderstand why I have come. I did not come to abolish the law of Moses or the writings of the prophets. No, I came to accomplish their purpose.

As my grandchildren helped me prepare to honor their grandfather on his St. Patrick’s Day birthday, we talked about why I love the shamrock: three hearts linked together, reflecting the love of each member of the Trinity, Father, Son, and Spirit. Since I’m currently writing a book for grade schoolers that I hope will help them understand the Trinity, I’m more alert than usual to these images and to all that I can glean from Scripture about the Three-in-One in world cultures.

There’s a theory in missiology that God has implanted in every culture a witness about Jesus and the redemption story. Bruce Olson wrote about this in his story from Ecuador, Bruchko. Seehttps://www.canaacademy.org/blog/bruchko-renewing-culture-in-the-forbidden-jungle . I LOVE hearing stories about Jesus appearing to Muslims in their dreams, a highly revered way of seeing in their culture.

The writings of Moses and other prophets, of course, held primary religious and cultural authority for the Jewish people of Jesus’s time. Jesus challenges the Jewish leaders, though, about how well they understood and believed the prophecies about himself embedded both implicitly and explicitly in the books of the law. Could they “see” what was there? Or were they more interested in “using” the Scriptures to elevate themselves while they burdened their followers with excessive legalism? Did they miss God’s compassion and grace?

One of my favorite images from Moses’s writings is the Passover Lamb in Exodus, whose blood protects and saves each household as the angel of death “passes over” the doorway of any home painted with the lamb’s blood. What is your favorite Christ image in the books of Moses?

I’m just home from Bogotá, an intense week with 470 people from 23 countries who gathered for the Latin American Discipleship Summit which my husband helped organize along with a dedicated planning team. I kept wishing for time to find out each person’s story, and particularly what about the Gospel story touched them at such a deep level that they dedicated their entire lives to Christ and his church. What did the Spirit use in each one’s life experience and culture and belief system to “click” with their hearts and minds? What’s your story? I would love to know.

Two minutes more of Individual reflection time, followed by group discussion at our tables. “My” table was #14, with people from nine different countries, denominations, ages, and ministries among the ten of us, all strangers who developed deep bonds across the four days of the Summit. What a wonderful experience!

Here’s a link to a collage of images from the first three days of the Summit (there’s a flash of me at my table at 21 seconds):

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KoPvDMiPUm2c6ztLg4Y5t5jLasF4vu7O/view?usp=sharing

Would you like to get well?

But Jesus looks deeper  Lent 2025 question #5

I’m writing to you today from the wonderful city of Bogotá, Colombia. Dave and I are here along with 470 others from 23 countries for the Latin American Discipleship Summit, which Dave has been preparing for the whole last year. We would appreciate your prayers. If you want more information, please let me know!

John 5:5-7 A man lying there had been sick for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him and knew he had been ill for a long time, he asked the man, “Would you like to get well?” “I can’t, sir,” the sick man said.

This fifth one of our twenty questions for Lent from John’s gospel seems rhetorical at first. There’s only one possible answer. Of course he would want to get well. Right?

The man didn’t answer Jesus’s question. He knew his situation was impossible, so what did it matter what he wanted? He had long since given up giving credit to his own desires. He had settled into life as a victim of his circumstances. In certain ways—the specifics aren’t clarified for us (see verse 14)—he had abdicated maturity.

Sometimes giving up on our desires is appropriate. I was amused yesterday when, on an errand with me to the bank, wearing a tutu, my granddaughter Talita informed the teller she wanted to be a ballerina when she grew up. The teller asked her whether she was taking ballet lessons. Talita said, “No, my mom hasn’t found ballet lessons for me. So, I think instead, I want to be an artist. My brother is teaching me.”

At age just-turned-five, Talita’s desires are fluid. She has time to try out all kinds of different aspirations. At this point in my life, though, I’m asking myself what desires I’ve given up on, desires that I once believed God had given me but seem, at age 70, impossible. Perhaps they are. Perhaps it’s time to bite the bullet and admit my limitations.

But to do so in a healthy way, I think I need to answer Jesus’s question—What do I want?—before leaping to the impossibilities. And of course, linked to the question of what I want is the question of what God wants. If he wants me to fulfill one of my dreams, nothing is impossible. The real question becomes, “Am I willing to pay the price to accomplish this? Am I prepared to do my part?”

The man Jesus healed had to face huge adjustments after thirty-eight years as an invalid. He had to learn how to be a responsible adult. How to care for himself. How to navigate peer relationships in which he was no longer a victim but a survivor.

God can be trusted to do his part. Am I prepared to do mine?

Shutterstock AI

Seeing is believing

But Jesus stretches us Lent question #4

John 4:47-50 [A government official’s son was very sick.] When he heard that Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee, he went and begged Jesus to come to Capernaum to heal his son, who was about to die. Jesus asked, “Will you never believe in me unless you see miraculous signs and wonders?” The official pleaded, “Lord, please come now before my little boy dies.” Then Jesus told him, “Go back home. Your son will live!” And the man believed what Jesus said and started home.

John 20:27-29 Jesus said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and look at my hands. Put your hand into the wound in my side. Don’t be faithless any longer. Believe!”

1 Peter 1:8 You love him even though you have never seen him. Though you do not see him now, you trust him; and you rejoice with a glorious, inexpressible joy.

First signs of Spring! Its here!!

Karis was in high school, missing as many school days at her school in Brazil as she was able to attend, increasingly hampered by severe symptoms of bowel dysfunction. Her doctor in the U.S. retired. (Retired! Didn’t he understand how much we depended on him?!) His partner refused to take on Karis’s care, along with a disheartening parade of Brazilian doctors.

And I failed the faith test. When Dr. P disappeared from our lives, I felt like GOD disappeared. I felt abandoned and alone. Because I couldn’t see God caring for Karis, I struggled with belief. For months.

By then, every member of our family was deeply immersed in our life in Brazil. And even if I did take Karis to the U.S., where would I take her? If the doctor who knew Karis best—Dr. P’s partner—thought her case was too perplexing for him, what hope was there that anyone else would take her on? She didn’t have the energy to travel around the U.S. trying to find a doctor who could understand her unique situation. Many people prayed for her healing. Nothing changed.

As I grew more discouraged, it seemed Karis’s faith grew stronger. She trusted her Father, and experienced the joy Peter describes. She gamely visited yet one more physician in São Paulo, submitted to the exams, listened courteously to one more doctor tell her he couldn’t help her, and on the way home did her best to comfort me.

So, I feel great empathy for both the official in John 4 and for Thomas. And eventually, like Thomas, I was able to hear and respond to Jesus telling me, “Don’t be faithless any longer. Believe!”

Remembering that experience strengthened me for later faith challenges—and heightened my appreciation of the times God generously let me see him at work. Pure mercy.