An anchor for our souls

New birth into a living hope

1 Peter 1:23 (Titus 3:5) Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.

Romans 6:18-19 It is impossible for God to lie. Therefore, we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the hope that lies before us. This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls.

So, I’m curious: Have you tried the “new song” idea from my last blog—applying praise to whatever is going on in your life today? I would love to know! I sang a “new song” as I found reasons to praise God as our family absorbs the reality and implications of our six-year-old grandson’s Celiac Disease diagnosis.

I’m quite excited about this understanding of “new song,” in part because it takes me back to a vow I made to the Lord while Karis and I were jetting to Pittsburgh from South Bend in the middle of the night in response to the first intestinal transplant call she was ready to consider.

I vowed to find something to praise God for every day of this upcoming adventure. I had no idea at the time how life- and hope-giving that practice would be. Keeping that vow forced me back to the Lord time after time when otherwise I could have floundered in the excruciating disappointments and reversals we experienced. Hope became for me–for us–a lifeline, an anchor, a safety rail, a source of strength for not giving up as Karis faced death day after day after day. I am deeply grateful to the Holy Spirit for prompting me to make that vow.

There are so many wonderful references to hope in the New Testament that I had trouble choosing, even from the book of Hebrews. The Greek words translated as hope are elpis (noun) and elpizo (verb), from the root elpo. They mean to anticipate (usually with pleasure), to trust, and to expect with confidence (and the corresponding nouns).

Peter emphasizes the fact that our hope is rooted in the resurrection of Jesus, whose victory over his own death extends to us in ours. That’s why we don’t grieve when a loved one dies or in thinking about our own mortality with the same despair as those without the hope of new life after death (1 Thessalonians 4:13).

In thinking about this, I remember Karis’s brilliant smile after she wrote in big scrawly letters with her left hand, “I love ____” each one of us. At the end she wrote, “Call the doctor. I can’t breathe,” just as a team burst into her ICU room to induce her last coma to give time for the antiviral to work (it didn’t, but this gave our family time to gather and to prepare ourselves as well as we could for her death). I believe Karis knew she was going Home, which we learned later through her journals she had been pleading with God to allow her to do.

This isn’t Jesus’s tomb, but it is a preserved tomb and round stone from the first century, like his might have been. Thanks to Marilyn Chislaghi for permission to use her photo taken in Israel.

Living hope: an empty tomb. A brilliant smile. An anchor for our souls through terrible times.

The Anchor Holds, by Ray Boltz

What color calls to you today?

But Jesus is trustworthy Feb 12, 2024

John 12:34-36, 44-46 [The crowd asked] “Just who is this Son of Man anyway?” Jesus replied, “My light will shine for you just a little longer. Walk in the light while you can, so the darkness will not overtake you. … Put your trust in the light while there is still time; then you will become children of the light. … I have come as a light to shine in this dark world, so that all who put their trust in me will no longer remain in the dark.”

“Walk in the light … Put your trust in the light.”

Early this morning I dropped my car off for servicing. As I walked down one of Pittsburgh’s famous block-long public staircases and on downhill to a bagel shop to wait for our mechanic’s call, thinking about this week and about this text from John 12, I found my mind swirling with color.

It started Friday in my granddaughter Juliana’s bedroom when sunshine suddenly broke through the winter gloom to fill the room with rainbows refracted through the prisms her mom hung in her windows. Juju was as delighted as by bubbles dancing in the sunshine a few weeks ago.

Shutterstock: MarcelClemens

Then came a marvelous Saturday women’s retreat, where the colors contained in the Light, representing the variegated wisdom God shares with us, splashed across the tables, the walls, and even the tableware, and showed up in our “color prayers” at the close of the retreat. So richly God’s wisdom enriched our souls at this retreat!

Then yesterday, to help celebrate our son-in-law Cesar’s birthday, I wore red, his favorite color. It turned out this worked also for cheering for the KC Chiefs. Yes, KC, because I lived there during high school and had my first experience of a super bowl as the Chiefs won in 1970. The only way I could understand the hysteria at the time was comparing it with a country winning the soccer World Cup.

Red, of course, will work Wednesday as well, as North America celebrates Valentine’s Day.

Then on Friday comes my granddaughter Talita’s fourth birthday. She’s chosen a mermaid theme for her party Sunday afternoon, so iridescent purples, pinks, greens, and blues join the mix of colors in my head.

And in the middle of all this comes Ash Wednesday, the end of Epiphany and the beginning of Lent. What color is Ash Wednesday? Grey, I guess, because of the ashes, although Google tells me it’s violet or unbleached linen, and the color of Lent is purple.

What’s my takeaway from this rich palette filling my imagination? Jesus not only created light, he is light. Every color is contained within him and expressed through us, his Body. How boring it would be if we were all—pick a color—all red, or all blue, or all yellow. God painted his world with color, gave us each different personalities, gifts, interests, passions, griefs, and joys. He delights in each one of us.

One of the joys of Saturday’s retreat was the fun of spending hours together with friends, old and new. Google tells me the color of friendship is orange. I’m carrying that into this week, wanting to share the rich hues of salmon, and peach, and coral with the friends whose lives intersect with mine this week.

What about you? Which color speaks to you today?

Thursday I’ll offer you a challenge for Lent. Spoiler: it too involves color!

By the way, EA Books surprised me by publishing Book 3 of the Cally and Charlie series, Facing the Faeries 1906, sooner than I expected. It’s now available on Amazon in paper and as an ebook. Enjoy! And if you do, please write a review to help others find the book. Of course, you’ll enjoy Book 3 more if you read, or reread (and review!), Books 1 and 2 first.

I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light, by Kathleen Thomerson

And in an entirely different style, Walk With Jesus, Consumed by Fire

Recapturing the joy of serving others

But Jesus came to serve

Matthew 20:25-28 But Jesus called his disciples together and said, “You know that the rulers in this world lord it over their people . . . But among you it will be different. Whoever wants to be a leader among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first among you must become your slave. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve others and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

I enjoy the way my just-turned-two, almost-two, and four-year-old grandchildren love to help. Of course, “helping” can mean dumping more water on the floor than over the dishes and spreading dirt around more than sweeping it into the dustpan. The pancake batter requires a few more stirs from Grammy before it goes in the pan.

But what I do, they want to do too. “I myself,” says Talita, struggling to get one foot into each pant leg and her shoes on the right feet–easier with Caleb’s shoes than her own. Last winter, Caleb walked behind his father industriously spreading snow back over a cleared walk, proud of his mastery of a shovel. Liliana claps her hands when she successfully clicks the upper clasp of her car seat belt and gets all her playthings back in the toy basket. The suggestion of cleaning up as a surprise for Mommy still elicits smiles and enthusiasm.

Why is it such fun for kids to copy each other and adults? Ah, a better question, perhaps: Why isn’t it more fun for me to imitate Jesus? How can I recover the simple delight of service?

Food for thought as I head into my day!