Romans 8:39 Nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.
In the airport, I saw a toddler harnessed to his mother, who also pushed a baby in a stroller. And then heard a passerby say, “That is so wrong! Treating a child like a dog!”
I reacted differently. I thought, “Oh, that is so smart! The child won’t experience the terror of getting lost and separated from his mom. And navigating the crowded concourse, she doesn’t have to worry so much about losing him, while also caring for her baby.”
Perhaps my positive response is linked to the challenge our mission team has given to each of us, to summarize our life story (60, 70, 80 years of intense living) in 35 minutes for our teammates. This begins today, as we are gathered at a Quaker retreat center on the beautiful coast of Oregon.
Twin Rocks at Rockaway Beach, OR Shutterstock: Cynthia Liang
As I’ve thought about my story, the phrase “tethered to God’s love” seems a perfect summary statement. All kinds of forces, both external and internal, have threatened my relationship with my Father. Yet here I am, at seventy, more attached to him than ever. Not because of me, who would so easily wander or run away, but because he holds onto me—while at the same time giving me enough slack to move “on my own.”
As I’ve thought about my life, I’ve recalled numerous times when I’ve not even been sure I wanted to continue living. Everything felt just too hard. But God intervened each time, through people, through circumstances, through his Word, through the Holy Spirit’s comfort. He kept on holding on.
Hebrews 13:9 Your strength comes from God’s grace.
Psalm 23:4 Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me.
The image I chose for “Ordinary Time” is a father holding his child’s hand. It speaks to me of security, love, and strength.
Shutterstock: Vyestekimages
This day in “Ordinary Time” is a crunch day for Dave and me as we prepare to fly to Colombia early Wednesday for the first Latin American REVER Congress. (REVER stands for “to take another look,” a fitting acronym for emotional restoration ministry.) The theme of the congress is “Finding Joy in Difficult Times.”
This special event is drawing participants from across Latin America. Dave and I, as the “grandparents” of REVER, which we started in Brazil in 1996, will be speaking for 15 hours Friday and Saturday. Luciene, international director of REVER, has the opening plenary Thursday evening. (For those who prayed Lu through her terrible accident almost a year ago: I learned yesterday that she’s walking short distances now without a cane!)
I don’t expect to post this Thursday. By the time we get home next week, I hope my Inbox will be full of your “But God” stories—a feast of rejoicing in God’s work in your lives! I promise: YOU will be the one who benefits most, as you remember and tell and find yourself encouraged by what God has done for you, your hand in His.
2 Timothy 4:16-18 (Isaiah 51:1-3) The first time I was brought before the judge, no one came with me. Everyone abandoned me. But the Lord stood with me and gave me strength … and he rescued me from certain death. Yes, and the Lord will deliver me from every evil attack and bring me safely into his heavenly Kingdom.
What deliverance do you need today? Take it to the Lord. He stands with you.
I arise today, through God’s strength to pilot me, God’s might to uphold me, God’s wisdom to guide me, God’s eye to look before me, God’s ear to hear me, God’s word to speak for me, God’s hand to guard me, God’s shield to protect me, God’s host to save me From snares of devils, From temptation of vices, From everyone who shall wish me ill, afar and near.
I arise today Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity, Through belief in the Threeness, Through confession of the Oneness of the Creator of creation.
Mark 1:22 The people were amazed at Jesus’s teaching, for he taught with real authority, quite unlike the teachers of religious law.
Mark 10:42-45 Jesus called his disciples together and said, “You know that the rulers in this world lord it over their people, and officials flaunt their authority over those under them. But among you it will be different. Whoever wants to be a leader among you must be your servant … 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.”
Philippians 2:5-7, 14 You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had. Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being. … Live clean, innocent lives as children of God.
One of my favorite books when I was a child was The Scarlet Pimpernel, published in 1905 by Baroness Orczy. I loved the fact that Sir Percy led a double life, apparently a wealthy fop, but secretly risking his life to save others. The ridicule Percy experienced actually protected him–no one suspected he could be the one carrying out amazing heroic deeds. Orczy wrote this long before Marvel popularized the idea of a superhero who seemed a mild-mannered, ineffectual, or unremarkable person. In fact–just after writing that–I read on Wikipedia that Stan Lee, the Marvel co-creator, read The Scarlet Pimpernel as a boy and has called Sir Percy the first character who could be called a superhero.
I’m not sure I can agree with Stan Lee, and you probably anticipate what I’m going to say. The Gospels show us members of Jesus’s family and his neighbors not thinking there was anything special about Jesus. He was looked down on for his humble place in society, for coming from a nothing place (“Can anything good come from Nazareth?”), for not having wealth or credentials or position. He was killed like a common criminal.
Yet Jesus’s words and acts as a teacher, a healer, a servant, and a redeemer have impacted the world, transforming lives, for two thousand years.
In the current film series “The Chosen,” early episodes show us Jesus playing with children. In the episode about Jesus healing the paralytic let down through the roof, kids watch the spectacle from another roof nearby. OCD Matthew awkwardly climbs up beside them and starts to tell the children who Jesus is. “We know him,” they nod, startling Matthew. We can imagine Matthew’s churning thoughts: Who is this man?
By Allen Hogan. I couldn’t find one of the kids on the wall with Matthew.
Real authority comes not from words alone, but from deeds and attitudes that match the words, done not to garner attention but out of love. It’s called integrity. Some of integrity’s fruits are safety and trustworthiness. I love this passage from Henri Nouwen’s little book, The Inner Voice of Love (pages 49 and 50):
A part of you was left behind very early in your life … it is full of fears. Meanwhile, you grew up with many survival skills. But you want your self to be one. So you have to bring home the part of you that was left behind. That is not easy, because you have become quite a formidable person, and your fearful part does not know if it can safely dwell with you. … Jesus dwells in your fearful, never fully received self. Where you are most human, most yourself, weakest, there Jesus lives. Bringing your fearful self home is bringing Jesus home. As long as your vulnerable self does not feel welcomed by you, it keeps so distant that it cannot show you its true beauty and wisdom. Thus, you survive without truly living. … When you become more childlike, your small, fearful self will no longer feel the need to dwell elsewhere. It will begin to look to you as home. Be patient … Gradually you will become one, and you will find that Jesus is living in your heart and offering you all you need.
Nothing enchants me more than discovering quiet integrity. It’s as thrilling now in real life as it was for me through fiction as a child. And no one embodies this more than Jesus, loving us in the past, the present, and the future.
This is an old song with a still-relevant message.
Psalm 62:5-8 Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken. … O my people, trust in him at all times. Pour out your heart to him, for God is our refuge.
Philippians 4:6-7 Tell God what you need and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace.
Hebrews 4:16 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.
When you were a child, did you have a hiding place, somewhere you went to feel safe?
In my small childhood home (two bedrooms for a family of ten), there seemed nowhere to go except inside myself, and I became very good at finding that space. But at boarding school, I hid in two places. One was inside a narrow, covered stairwell with doors top and bottom. The other was high in a cypress tree at the property a block away where we went for recess.
In those spaces, even when I was small, I had a sense of God’s presence with me that I didn’t feel anywhere else. The world out there was too challenging, too crowded, too fraught and frightening. Often I was too flooded to sense he was there in the confusion of competing feelings. In secret, though, the Lord helped me regain my balance. When I’m upset, I can still imagine myself there, take some deep breaths, and begin to relax.
As an adult, hearing other people’s trauma stories, my heart went out to those who blamed God for what they had suffered and thus cut themselves off from his comfort. As a child, I didn’t blame God. I primarily blamed myself. I think it’s natural for children to feel they “should” be able to be “good enough” or “powerful enough” to diffuse the tensions, stress, anger, conflicts, and hurtful actions of the adults around them. Just try harder …
God, though, was my refuge. My rock. My place of safety long before I knew anything about Psalm 62, or Philippians 4 or Hebrews 4.
There were times when I doubted God’s power and goodness, when I couldn’t sense his Presence at all. In chapter 1 of Karis: All I See Is Grace, though, I describe a time of crisis when I was able to cry out to him and hear his response. He challenged me to trust him even though I could not understand. Why, if he is all-loving and all-powerful, he allows so much suffering in the world. Why he doesn’t do what I, in my great wisdom, think he should do.
Today, I am making the same choice: to trust. To pour out my heart to him. And then to wait quietly. For God is my refuge, my safety, my hiding place.
Debra Kornfield 