In covenant love

But God’s Spirit warns us

Nehemiah 9:29-30 [A prayer rehearsing the history of Israel] You warned your people to return to your Law, but they became proud and obstinate and disobeyed your commands. They did not follow your regulations, by which people will find life if only they obey. They stubbornly turned their backs on you and refused to listen. In your love, you were patient with them for many years. You sent your Spirit, who warned them through the prophets. But still they wouldn’t listen! So once again you allowed the peoples of the land to conquer them.

1 Timothy 4:1 Warnings against False TeachersNow the Holy Spirit tells us clearly that in the last times some will turn away from the true faith; they will follow deceptive spirits and teachings that come from demons.

Hebrews 3:6-7, 12-13 We are God’s house, if we keep our courage and remain confident in our hope in Christ [some manuscripts add, “faithful to the end”]. That is why the Holy Spirit says, “Today when you hear his voice, don’t harden your hearts as Israel did when they rebelled, when they tested me in the wilderness.” … Be careful then, dear brothers and sisters. Make sure that your own hearts are not evil and unbelieving, turning you away from the living God.

I’m posting this in Maryland, at a wonderful place called Caboose Farm (Caboosefarm.net) where the extended Elliott family is having a once-every-three-years reunion. I probably won’t post this Thursday.

In the remarkable prayer of praise recorded in Nehemiah 9, the word “but” appears six times in reference to the people of Israel. God was faithful in myriad ways, but his covenant people turned away from him again and again and again.

The author of Hebrews draws a straight line from his time back to the people of Israel in the desert, 1500 years before. If he (or she) could see our hard hearts, two thousand years later, would he (or she) draw a line to us as well? Don’t we need the Spirit’s warning as much as the Hebrews did?

Reflecting on this, I recall that in the last few days I’ve heard or read the following:

  • “I don’t think God exists, because if he does, he would have healed my beloved sister. I can’t trust him anymore.”
  • “I was too badly hurt by the church to ever go back. I still believe in God in my heart, but I can’t stand the people who claim to know him yet behave in unkind and cruel ways in his name and say such demeaning things about people different from them.”
  • “I’m an ex. Ex-Catholic, ex-protestant, ex-atheist, ex-everything. Bottom line: I believe in myself.”
  • “God is too busy holding this fractured world together to care about me, and people have been cruel. My life has been one disappointment after another. So, I’m considering ending it.”

The good news from the prayer in Nehemiah 9? An entirely different “but.”

“But you are a God of forgiveness, gracious and merciful, slow to become angry, and rich in unfailing love. You did not abandon your people” (v. 17).

“And now, our God, the great and mighty and awesome God, who keeps his covenant of unfailing love, do not let all the hardships we have suffered seem insignificant to you” (v. 32).

Forgiveness. Grace. Mercy. Patience. Unfailing love. God, who keeps his promises, offers them all. Take what you need.

Better together

But God’s Spirit gives us power to do what he asks

Judges 6:34 Then the Spirit of the Lord clothed Gideon with power.

Acts 1:8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you.

1 Corinthians 4:20 For the Kingdom of God is not just a lot of talk; it is living by God’s power.

2 Corinthians 12:9 God said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.”

Gideon, self-identified as the least important member of the weakest family in Israel, hid at the bottom of a winepress to thresh wheat for fear of the cruel oppression of Midianites.

(Remember Jesus’s disciples hiding in a locked room for fear of the Jewish rulers?)

Out of all Israel, the angel of the Lord appeared to this frightened young man and greeted him with “Mighty hero, the Lord is with you!”

(Remember Jesus’s disciples hearing him say to them, “I am with you always, to the end of the age”?)

It must have felt to Gideon like a sarcastic joke. I picture him, startled, looking around the small space where he was hiding to see who this strange guy was talking to. It couldn’t be to him. Mighty hero??               

Gideon responds with bitter questions, an overflow of anguish ending with, “The Lord has abandoned us.” How could this stranger possibly believe the Lord was with them?

(Remember that on the mountain in Galilee where God gave the disciples the Great Commission, Matthew makes a point of telling us that some of them doubted—even after walking so closely with Jesus for three years?)

And the angel, speaking for God, says, “Go with the strength you have, and rescue Israel from the Midianites. I am sending you!” Gideon replies, “But Lord, how can I …?” (Judges 6:14-15 and on). He didn’t realize that the strength he had was God’s strength, not his own.

(Remember Jesus saying to the disciples, “I have all authority … therefore, go”?)

The unlikely interchange between Gideon and the angel of the Lord reminds me of Moses at the burning bush. “Who, me? You want me to do what?? You’ve got to be kidding! Send someone else better qualified!”

You know these stories, right? If not, read Judges 6 and 7 and Exodus 3. If you’re like me, you’ll find a LOT to identify with in Gideon’s and Moses’s protests.

I am with you. With God’s call comes the power to accomplish what God asks of us. And because we know our own inadequacies, we know it’s only the Lord who can fulfill through us his purposes. All glory goes to him.

The Lord walked closely with both Gideon and Moses, patiently encouraging them and giving them specific instructions along the way. In each case, they started from a place of acknowledged, painful loss and defeat and failure. Their relationship with God was transparent from the beginning, with no pretense of being worthy of God using them. They learned to recognize and rely on the Lord’s voice. They depended absolutely on him.

In both cases, later, after God successfully accomplished his initial call to them, Gideon and Moses tried to go forward on their own and got into trouble. King Saul is another biblical example of the way self-confidence can become self-defeating (1 Samuel 15). The author of 1 Chronicles summarizes Saul’s life in this terse statement, “Saul died because he was unfaithful to the Lord. He failed to obey the Lord’s command” (10:13).

We don’t ever outgrow our need to depend on the Lord and submit ourselves to him. We are always beginners in this walk of obedience and faith; forever, the rest of our lives, learning and growing.

And on the flip side, in our desperate dependency, we can feel the delight of watching God do through us what we could never do in our own strength. I experience this every time I hear someone say that the Karis book has encouraged or challenged them in some way. I wrote that book with so much fear and trembling, so keenly aware of my own inadequacy.

Like Gideon and Moses, I tried to get out of doing it, asking God to choose someone else, a better writer, someone with a platform and experience in the publishing industry. Someone not so closely tied to Karis. I feared being accused of bias and lack of objectivity; that what I wrote couldn’t be relied on because I am her mother. I feared not being capable of summarizing her thirty years of life in a way that would do justice both to her faith and the Lord’s faithfulness to her. I fussed and protested for months.

And in the end, holding this little book in my hand three years later, I experienced the truth God’s Spirit expressed to Paul, which became Karis’s life verse: “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.”

How is the Lord stretching you? What is he asking of you that seems impossible?

Can you hear him saying, as he did to Gideon, “I am with you”?

Are you willing for the Spirit to clothe you with power to do what he is asking you to do?

Happy birthday, Karis!

But God’s mercy never fails

Isaiah 43:2 When you go through deep waters, I will be with you.

When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown.

When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up;

the flames will not consume you.

Lamentations 3:22-23 The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness. His mercies begin afresh each morning.

By Earth time, Karis would have turned 42 today. I woke up with the song Goodness of God in my head:

I love You, Lord
For Your mercy never fails me
All my days, I’ve been held in Your hands
From the moment that I wake up, Until I lay my head
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God

And all my life You have been faithful
And all my life You have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God

I love Your voice
You have led me through the fire
In the darkest night You are close like no other
I’ve known You as a Father; I’ve known You as a Friend
And I have lived in the goodness of God

And all my life You have been faithful
And all my life You have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God

‘Cause Your goodness is running after, it’s running after me
Your goodness is running after, it’s running after me
With my life laid down, I’m surrendered now
I give You everything
‘Cause Your goodness is running after, it’s running after me [and you, too]

Miracles

But Jesus’ good works foreshadow the greatest miracle of all Lenten question #12

John 10:30-42 [Jesus said] “The Father and I are one.” Once again the people picked up stones to kill him. Jesus said, “At my Father’s direction I have done many good works. For which one are you going to stone me? … Why do you call it blasphemy when I say, ‘I am the Son of God’? … If I do the Father’s work, believe in the evidence of the miraculous works I have done, even if you don’t believe me. Then you will know and understand that the Father is in me, and I am in the Father.” … And many who were there believed in Jesus.

Have you experienced miracles in your life? I have. I wrote about several of them in Karis: All I See Is Grace. And there are many others. God is constantly at work in our world and in our lives.

But all the miracles we have heard about in Scripture or in other people’s lives or experienced ourselves pale before the greatest miracle of all, which we will celebrate in just a few days: the miracle of Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. This is the great historical pivot when death was swallowed up in victory (1 Corinthians 15:54), when HOPE became possible, when the joy at the center of the universe broke through despair. We sorrow, yes. But we know that our griefs are not the end of the story. We live in a comedy, not a tragedy.

First, though, we’ll walk with Jesus through the multilayered injustices of slander, rejection, mocking, shame, abuse, cruelty, abandonment by those closest to him, and the horrible suffering of death by crucifixion. We’ll hear Jesus say in the midst of all that, “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing.”

And because Jesus walked that road, we know there is nothing we experience which he cannot relate to. “He was beaten so we could be whole. He was whipped so we could be healed” (Isaiah 53:5).

May the Lord give each of us deeper insight these next days into these mysteries of grace and love.

Loving shame more than honor

But God grieves over us

Hosea 4:1, 3, 6, 7, 12, 18 The Lord has brought charges against you, saying: “There is no faithfulness, no kindness, no knowledge of God in your land … That is why your land is in mourning. … My people are being destroyed because they don’t know me. … They have exchanged the glory of God for the shame of idols. … Longing after idols has made them foolish. … They love shame more than honor.

Nearly three thousand years ago, long before writers like John Bradshaw and Brené Brown helped us understand shame, the prophet Hosea linked it with not knowing God, not understanding his compassion and love, his yearning for a close relationship with his beloved people.

Instead, in Hosea’s day, both leaders and ordinary people turned to idols [anything that takes God’s place in our hearts], pleasures, addictions, violence, unfaithfulness in relationships, sexual depravity, cheating, and other forms of robbery.

Has anything changed in the last three thousand years?

The Hebrew word Hosea uses is gâlôwn, translated shame in most English versions. Associated words are disgrace, confusion, dishonor, ignominy [public disgrace], reproach. This shame is vile, base, and despicable.

“My people are being destroyed because they don’t know me,” laments the Lord (Hosea 4:6, 2:20). “Oh, that we might know the Lord,” cries Hosea (6:3).

The kind of shame Hosea describes is extremely painful. Why would we choose shame rather than honor? Perhaps we fear God’s judgment? Fear the loss of things we’ve come to love? Fear rejection by others if anyone detects our true struggles? As Brené Brown often points out, shame thrives in secrecy, in darkness, in isolation. Shame flees when brought into the light. Yet we fear exposing our shame to God, to others, and even to ourselves, even though that’s the best way to be free from it.

A friend recently described to me her cycle of shame. She feels lonely, or disappointed, or betrayed. To ease those feelings, she escapes into her addiction, soothing herself with a temporary pleasure. When she comes out of that, she’s embarrassed and frustrated with herself that she gave in to a temptation that she knows is harmful to her health. When she’s alone, those feelings are so uncomfortable that she again buries them with her addiction. And on and on her cycle of shame spirals. When she’s with other people, her shame prevents her from indulging, and prevents her from finding help, because she doesn’t want to expose her struggle and become an object of pity or of disdain or of judgment.

Every one of us can relate. Each of us has our own way of trying to escape painful feelings. If we realize it’s not just us, maybe we can become more willing to let an understanding friend listen to our struggle. And go with us into the presence of God, who longs to heal us and show us his compassion—as my friend courageously did with me. And I with her.

This high priest of ours [Jesus] understands our weaknesses, for he faced all the same testings we do, yet he did not sin. So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most (Hebrews 4:15-16).

On turning 70

But God will be exalted forever

Psalm 92:8-15 But you, O Lord, will be exalted forever. … The godly will flourish like palm trees … in the courts of our God. Even in old age they will still produce fruit; they will remain vital and green. They will declare, “The Lord is just! He is my rock! There is no evil in him!”

Psalm 90:10, 12 Seventy years are given to us! Some even live to eighty. … Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom.

After my 70th birthday on August 16, I went into a bit of a funk. (Do people still use that expression?) Thinking back on it, I realize several dynamics converged during the weeks between that day and the lovely August 31 birthday party my son and daughters so sweetly planned for me.

1. I was still grieving for my friend Donna who died suddenly and unexpectedly June 30, and for my friend Carolyn who died of cancer August 19. I realized that once we’re “old,” these losses become more frequent. And at some point, will touch my own siblings, my own family. I didn’t want to accept this reality.

2. Coming down with Covid on my 70th birthday was custom made for making me feel “old.”

3. I took longer to recover my energy than I thought I should have. I took my four-year-old granddaughter Talita to a favorite park and barely managed the ¾ mile walk to the waterfall, with lots of stops along the way. As I sat on a rock while she played in the creek, I felt overwhelmed by the feeling that this is what awaited me as I grew older, this sense of helplessness to do what I wanted to do; of my tired body not cooperating with my mind and will. I resented it, despite knowing in my head I didn’t “deserve” the good health I usually enjoy while so many others I love deal with limitations all the time.

    Talita and Liliana at the party, faces painted thanks to our friend Suzanne.

    4. Dave and I went to the park where we usually walk three laps at a fast pace several times a week, about 3 ½ miles. He had Covid too but walked all three laps. I inched along (it seemed) for one lap, then had to sit and rest. Then at turtle-pace I made it back to our car. I felt frustrated and angry. This is not me. Who am I, if I can’t do what I want to do? You know, Lord—I’ve told you this for a long time—I don’t want to become dependent on other people, taking up their time and energy and resources. Especially I don’t want this for my kids.

    5. I was grieving the outcome of the so-hoped for elections in Venezuela, where daily, conditions were (and are) going from bad to worse. So many people prayed, and believed … yet here we are, with Maduro’s opponent now being called a traitor for running against him, with a warrant out for his arrest. Where was the energy to keep trusting and keep praying for relief?

    6. I came to the point of dreading my birthday party. I knew people would be kind and say nice things, and I didn’t feel like I deserved that. I slipped into some kind of alternate reality in which I was a non-person, knowing that none of what might be said was true. I thought, “Dave could go in my place; I’ll stay home.” It didn’t matter that old age is a blessing (consider the alternative) and that everyone walks through this sooner or later, or that so many people, even my own sibs, have health issues and limitations I’ve not had to deal with. This was happening to me! I had to face up to it and learn for myself how to age faithfully.

      A bit melodramatic, yes? I can imagine eyes rolling. By God’s grace I did one positive thing: I told close friends what I was feeling, the struggle I was in. Just saying it out loud let me laugh at myself and gain perspective.

      By birthday party day, thanks to their graciousness and prayers, God freed me from my pity party. My children were so generous, my friends so lovely, the surprise of out-of-towners I didn’t know were coming so heartwarming … It was all wonderful, and I’m deeply thankful for the love and generosity of family and friends.

      Val, Dan, and Rachel even had brigadeiros (chocolate) and beijinhos (coconut), candies always part of Brazilian birthday parties! Valerie made me the lovely photo blanket. And … So many other special touches. Lots of behind the scenes scheming by all three of them. Today, by the way, is Rachel and Brian’s tenth wedding anniversary. Time goes so fast!!

      I’m able to believe again Psalm 92:8-15–which the psalmist credits to GOD’S faithfulness, not our own. It’s been a favorite hope and life-giving passage since I turned 65.

      And able to turn my attention back to what God has put in my hands to do.

      And able to hear God chuckling with me.

      To quote Karis, “All I see is grace.”

      For what is yet to be, by Ted Loder, author of Guerrillas of Grace

      I (Debbie) wrote a post for today, but find I don’t yet have courage to post it.

      This morning I had the privilege of sharing with a group of chaplains-in-training some of our hospital experience with Karis. I was flooded all over again with how much our story–and Karis’s story–is all about grace.

      And when I left, one of the participants handed me two poems about grace. This one strikes me as better for today than what I had written. Thank you, Leslie!

      Wondrous Worker of Wonders,

      I praise you

      not alone for what has been,

      or for what is,

      but for what is yet to be,

      for you are gracious beyond all telling of it.

      I praise you

      that out of the turbulence of my life

      a kingdom is coming.

      is being shaped even now

      out of my slivers of loving,

      my bits of trusting,

      my sprigs of hoping,

      my tootles of laughing,

      my smidgens of worshipping;

      that out of my songs and struggles,

      out of my griefs and triumphs,

      I am gathered up and saved,

      for you are gracious beyond all telling of it.

      I praise you

      that you turn me loose

      to go with you to the edge of now and maybe,

      to welcome the new,

      to see my possibililties,

      to accept my limits,

      and yet begin living to the limit

      of passion and compassion

      until,

      released by joy,

      I uncurl to other people

      and to your kingdom coming,

      for you are gracious beyond all telling of it.

      Guerrillas of Grace

      Why do roses have thorns?

      But God’s power works through our weakness July 15, 2024

      2 Corinthians 12:7-10 I was given a thorn in my flesh … Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away. Each time he said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. … For when I am weak, then I am strong.

      I’m sure you’ve had the experience, as I did last week, of injuring a finger on the thorn of a rose and then asking “Why? Why do beautiful roses have such sharp thorns?”

      Shutterstock: Albatros-Design

      And you may have noticed, as I’ve been working my way through 2 Corinthians on this blog, that I skipped the best-known part of chapter 12. I did that because I’ve written about it so many times as the theme of Karis’s life. This began when she was eleven, when she asked her father and me not to pray any longer for her healing, and instead to pray that she would understand and fulfill God’s purposes for her life.

      This theme prompted her to write in her journal at age sixteen, “All I see is grace,” the phrase I chose for the subtitle of her book. Perhaps you have read Karis: All I See Is Grace and understand from her life a bit more about God’s love extended to us through suffering and loss. (I just noticed in looking up this link that it’s on sale right now on Amazon.)

      So why am I doubling back to this passage today? I just listened to a sermon on it by Lauren Scharf at our church on July 7, a day we were away. I want you to take time to listen to it, because she expresses so well what Karis learned and what she lived out: Our intimacy with Jesus is enhanced when we go through grief and suffering because he, the Man of Sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief (Isaiah 53:3), knows from his own personal experience what it’s like. He understands. He walks with us through the deep valleys (Psalm 23), offering us grace to help us when we need it most (Hebrews 4:15-16).

      Whatever your “thorn” is, whatever you are struggling with, you are not alone. Jesus is with you. Please take a few minutes to listen to Lauren’s sermon. It might be the best thing you do all week!

      Awe

      But God’s forever love cost him   March 25, 2024

      Psalm 103:17-18 But the love of the Lord remains forever with those who fear him. His salvation extends to the children’s children of those who are faithful to his covenant, of those who obey his commandments.

      The Hebrew word for covenant (beriyth) in this verse is a blood covenant, a compact made by cutting flesh. Jesus offered his body to the thorns, the nails, the whip—out of love for us. He paid the whole price of his covenant with us on the cross. For you. For me. He is the only one with whom I have this kind of relationship. Yet how often do I honor other people’s opinion of me more than his, enough to get my tail in a knot when I think they don’t like or approve of what I believe or do or think or say or create?

      Litany of Penitence 11

      For seeking the praise of others

      Rather than the approval of God,

      Lord, have mercy upon us,

      For we have sinned against you.

      Chatting with a friend this week, we both admitted we tend to let other people’s opinions of what we do affect us too much. As we expressed it, we give them too much power over our emotions. I used the example of letting a negative review of something I have written cancel the joy of finding out someone was blessed by what they read. I’m learning to ask myself, “Is my conscience clear before God? Have I, as well and faithfully as I know how, followed what I believe was his direction?” If so, even though I always have room to grow, I can live from a center of peace no matter what others think or say.

      Holy Spirit, cleanse, renew, and grow my awe of what Jesus did for me. Shutterstock: LovelyDay

      This doesn’t mean I can’t learn from other people. I’m talking about letting their opinion rob me of joy and confidence. My temptation is to criticize myself and become self-centered (preoccupied with myself) rather than nurturing a solid confidence in God’s love that fosters a balanced perspective of both myself and others.

      Here are a few more texts I’ve been thinking about in connection with today’s confession: Mt 6:1-2, 16-21, 23:5-12, Mark 6:1-3, John 12:42-43. Perhaps you can suggest other Scriptures on this topic.

      Love Ran Red, by Chris Tomlin

      Advent ABC: Our God

      Isaiah 25:9 (Isaiah 46:3-4, Malachi 4:2, Romans 5:10-11, Hebrews 4:15, 16, 2 Peter 1:1) In that day the people will proclaim, “This is our God! We trusted in him, and he saved us! This is the Lord, in whom we trusted. Let us rejoice in the salvation he brings.”

      Trust isn’t easy, especially when we’ve been betrayed. When someone we have trusted has not just disappointed us, but has deliberately hurt us for their own ends. Because the Three-in-One God understands this, Jesus came, to experience in a body what betrayal is. That’s why we can go to him to find mercy and grace in our time of need. This is our God, not a being far off, but one who draws near, in compassion and full understanding. With healing in his wings.

      This is Our God, Phil Wickham