Grace for Grasshoppers

Recently I bought an inexpensive bookshelf to house my small collection of books. Assembling the bookshelf turned out to be a nice project for my younger two boys. And although the assembly wasn't  perfect I was perfectly pleased with how it turned out and extremely proud of the boys for their efforts.

As I began unpacking my books and arranging them on the shelves I noticed something about my collection.  I own only a couple of self-help type books and a large number of books about regular, ordinary people who did extraordinary things in their lives.  I'm not sure what this says about me as an individual or my interests.  At first glance it seems that I'd rather read about other people's exploits than exert the effort to improve myself.  But when I look past that first glance maybe reading about courageous people and how they overcame incredible odds in their lives is beneficial to bettering myself.

David Livingston, Hudson Taylor, Amy Carmichael, George Mueller, Wilbur Wilberforce, Corrie Ten Boom, and others. Their lives seem so large  and full of daring feats.  They appear brave and almost super-human.  In their lifetime they accomplished amazing things and left an admirable legacy.  Undoubtedly, they encountered seemingly insurmountable hurdles and overcame unimaginable obstacles.

I believe that each of these individuals possessed a dream.  An inner desire, a vision that spurred them on.  They also relied on something greater than what they could see. Their lives were not void of struggles or disappointments.  Life for them was not free of pain or failures.  Discouragement often visited their door and they came face to face with their own inabilities and insecurities.

These successful people were not alone in their encounters with the promise and hope of a vision or with the unsettling feeling of defeat and despair they perceived in their reality.  In the book of Numbers we read about how Caleb, Joshua and the other men were sent to explore the land of Canaan and found themselves looking at a land of plenty. Their eyes were filled with awe and wonder at the fruitfulness of Canaan.  However, for some, their excitement for the potential was overshadowed by the imminent defeat they feared.  They felt like grasshoppers in comparison to some of the people living in Canaan.  These men were discouraged and felt insecure and unable to possess the land.

We all have opportunities placed in front of us.  God has good things planned for us. He gives us a vision and a purpose to fulfill.  We see the potential ... grapes so large that they must be carried on poles. Our spirits sense an outcome that is fruitful, plentiful and exquisite.  Then the struggles start piling up.  We begin to see our difficulties as insurmountable.  Some of us quickly retreat and confess defeat.  The dream, the vision, the promise of being fruitful is challenged by what our eyes perceive as too difficult.  Too daunting.  Too big.

I believe that Hudson Taylor, Amy Carmichael, George Mueller and all the others who are examples of courage to me, felt like grasshoppers at some point along the way.  It is certain that they struggled with matching up their vision with their reality.  The obstacles seemed huge.  They felt small.

We may be looking at our opportunities today and wondering how to possess the land. We may be hearing the voices of naysayers, or maybe even the voice inside our own head, telling us all the reasons why we will not succeed.  Paul writes in 2 Corinthians, "But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.""

The wonderful key available to all of us is relying on God's grace rather than our abilities.  This is a common theme I have found in reading about these incredible individuals in my books.  It isn't about how competent we are or how able we are to make something happen.  The outcome of God's plans for us does not depend on how capable we are in our own strength.

Accept it.  We are weak.  We will face struggles.  We will be discouraged.  We will know defeat.

Fortunately for us, God is able.  And He enables us to be brave and do amazing things for His glory.  Even though we may feel ordinary, we can leave an admirable legacy. The hurdles and obstacles that seem so mammoth in our eyes are not a problem for God. After all, he is God of the universe and he is at work behind the scenes on our behalf.  His grace is sufficient.

The excellent news is this:  there is hope when we trust in the all-sufficient Sovereign God.   And as long as God is on the throne, there is grace for grasshoppers.

Numbers 13

Planted and Blooming

The question asked of the missionary was simple.  "How long was the time spent between first receiving the call and finally being on the mission field?"   The young man asking the question had a personal reason for wanting an answer.  He was eagerly waiting to be accepted into a mission program so that he and his family could get on the mission field.    


I remember looking at the missionary who was sharing with us during our Sunday evening prayer time and expecting him to tell us the number of months or years he had prepared and waited before entering the mission field.  Instead, he quietly made a statement that rang throughout my spirit like steeple bells on Easter morning.  "The most important thing to remember is the call to obedience."


What?  Where was the calendar date?  I'm expecting to hear some kind of time frame and he's talking about obedience.  


The call to obedience might not sound as inviting as the call to missions, or evangelism, or the call to be a teacher or pastor. Yet, as I've thought about this I've come to accept that the call to obedience is fundamental to any call to service we might receive from God. I'm beginning to understand how important it is to be diligent and faithful in my obedience with every part of my life, even if I don't see how or what it is God is calling me to do.

The wait for God's perfect timing - the time we spend waiting for God to make all things ready for us to serve IS the perfect time for obedience. The idea of "blooming where you are planted" seems to go hand in hand with the call to obedience. We shouldn't wait until 'we think we are where God is taking us so we can do what he has called us to' before we answer the call to obedience. Rather, we should accept the call to obedience in the seemingly insignificant stages of our life when we are tempted to become frustrated with waiting for God to use us.


Waiting can seem an unpleasant thing.  Waiting can cause us to become impatient or discouraged or even defiant.  This may be because we're thinking of waiting as being idle, a waste of our time, an inconvenience.  If, however, we are waiting on God it shouldn't be a time of idleness, but readiness - our time not thought of as wasted but fruitful, not an inconvenience but purposeful and delightful.  


Now is the time.  Now is the time to be obedient, to be fruitful.  Now, while we're waiting for the next thing God has for us, is the time to thrive and flourish.  Whatever season of life we are in, wherever we are planted, now is the time to bloom!  

Of Chickens and Snakes

My daughter, Sera, came running into the house with tears streaming from her eyes and a look of horror distorting her face.  Between her heavy sobs and being out of breath from running it was hard to hear what she was trying to tell us at first.  "There's a snake in the chicken pen and it's eating one of the chickens!"  


As I tried to console her she kept repeating, "I thought we had done everything we could so they would be safe."  "I thought we had done everything."  "I thought they would be safe."


She was correct.  Sera and her dad had worked diligently in raising the chickens. Every precaution was taken and great care was given to each of the chicks and their living conditions.  The chickens had grown to a size thought big enough to allow them to be able to roam inside the chicken pen.  And yet, here she was crumpled in my arms having been traumatized by this intruder who so quickly violated the safety of her chickens.


How deeply my heart hurt for her.  I'm her mom.  I never want to see her in pain or know that she is suffering.  My job as her mother is to protect her.  My desire is to do everything I can to make sure she is safe and happy. I know I can't, but sometimes I wish I could protect all my children from the pains experienced in life.  But just like the snake who invaded the safe environment Sera created for her chickens, I know that trouble will invade the safe place that I work so diligently to create for those in my care.  My pastor shared wise and tender words, "...so instead of doing all we can to keep them from pain we should be doing all we can to show them how to run to Jesus in the midst of the pain."  


While I continued to hold Sera and tried to provide her with comfort, her dad responded quickly in ridding the chicken pen of the intruder snake.  Then he and Sera had a quiet burial for the chicken.  Wisely and very gently he took Sera back into the chicken pen...the place where just minutes before she had walked in on a very large snake devouring one of her beloved chickens.  Her dad quietly began to explain his plan to make the pen more secure.   As she stood there holding tightly to her daddy's hand I knew that she would be fine.  She knows her dad and trusts him to take care of her.  


As this image lingered in my mind I could not help but think about my heavenly Father and how He has gone to such lengths to ensure my safety.  He provides a place for me beyond the reach of the intruder snake.  And yet, trouble comes.  I experience pain and suffering.  And during these times I have learned to run to the One who loves me and provides me comfort and peace.  He also gently leads me through His Holy Word and shows me His plans to ensure my safety.  


After the supplies were purchased and the work was done to fortify the pen, Sera's dad surprised her with six new chicks to replace the one that was taken from her.  I would never have wished for my daughter to go through this  traumatic experience, but I recognize how blessed she is to have such a wise and loving father who walked with her through the shock and the pain, the loss and the fear, into a place of abundance.  


Shortly after this experience, Sera staged a photo of herself in the chicken pen holding one of her new chicks while studying Biology.  This picture was one of three she entered in a contest and was awarded a $300 scholarship.    So long, intruder snake ... we've got some chickens to raise.  

My Heart's Surprise

I don't especially like things such as surprise parties or surprise visitors. However, this doesn't mean that I'm opposed to all surprises. I find myself sweetly surprised quite often by the gentle goodness of my loving God. I love when my children make the effort to surprise me in some love-filled and thoughtful way. And sometimes I'm surprised by the things my heart feels. Sometimes I'm surprised by things that I remember that I didn't realize I had forgotten.

Not long ago, I was surprised by the re-appearance in my life of a very special friend after close to twenty-five years. I found myself caught in a time-warp and surprised by the amount of emotion that stirred within me. My mind was flooded with memories that had drifted to the deeper places of my remembrance. I have been somewhat surprised by how easily the cobwebs of time have been pushed aside allowing my heart to reconnect with my friend. While time and distance, as well as life in general, will probably prevent the friendship from deeper development, I have been blessed by the sweet memories that have surfaced that I didn't realize I had forgotten.  

Recently, I noticed that I am beginning to find some of myself that had been misplaced in the process of life.  And like the familiar warmth of remembrance I felt at the re-appearance of a special friend, I have found much pleasure with each discovery of all that makes up who I am.  In this middle season of my life I find that I am remembering things about my journey with Jesus that had become shrouded by the cobwebs of time; marvelous things, like the dreams and desires that have been built into who God created me to be.  Once misplaced and forgotten, these memories have re-appeared and flooded my soul with deep, satisfying joy.   And although this process of remembering is a natural and pleasurable part of the journey ...it has somewhat caught my heart by surprise.     

The High Price of Freedom

The date is Wednesday, April 28 2004.  This morning I am sitting in the chapel on Leighton Post in Wurtzburg, Germany. The reality of the war in Iraq is very evident here. We are in the midst of a unit who has known deployment and loss of life. The war has claimed over 20 lives from this unit in less than one month. The mood among the community has gone from determination, resolve, indestructible and undefeatable -- to doubt, despair, fear, defeat, confusion.

I am here to help a friend with music and we have just been a part of a morning chapel service. As our chapel ended a group of soldiers and chaplain’s assistants filed in to prepare for the memorial service of one of our fallen soldiers. I sit and observe how they are preparing the chapel. A two step black platform is placed at the front of the chapel. Then two soldiers carefully drape a white cloth around the platform. On the platform: a helmet and boots. Next they bring in a weapon and a plaquard with a picture, mounted under plexiglass, of a young man dressed in combat fatigues. He looks so young. It appears that the photo has been taken in Iraq. I am overwhelmed.


I ask a soldier standing nearby the rank of the young man. “Private first class.” I look at the helmet and see the name EDWARDS. I ask, “PFC Edwards?” and the soldier replies, “Yes,ma’am.” I want to immediately write his name and rank in my notebook. I need to document it so it is not lost. I have come all the way from Augusta, Georgia and have the awesome privilege of attending the memorial service of a young man who has sacrificed his life in a battle to protect, defend and ensure my freedom. I don’t ever want to forget his name.


I look around and see young men and women dressed in their desert camaflouge fatigues. They are so young. One young man in particular has such a haunting look. He seems so innocent and yet there is a heavy presence on his face. His eyes seem to long for something. Maybe hope – or maybe the assurance that this will all soon be over. I watch everything going on around me and wonder why God has allowed me to be here.


As I make my way to the back of the chapel I am unprepared for what I am about to encounter. One soldier is standing guard at the entry to the foyer. Two guards are standing on either side of the entry doors.  Outside on the lawn stand seven soldiers on one side and one soldier on the other side of a sidewalk. I walk outside via a side door and peek around to see the guard out front. I am assuming this is the guard who will be responsible for the 21 gun salute. It is only 11:00 a.m. and the memorial service is not until 1:00 p.m. Will all these soldiers stand guard until then? I am overcome with emotion and weep. I am not able to control my sense of indebtedness to our military, a sense of sorrow over the loss of lives, a sense of pride over being a U.S. citizen – a sense of awe that I am here – on an army base in Wurtzburg, Germany able to observe first hand a piece of the war in Iraq.


Thank you, Lord, for these brave individuals who are willing to serve their country and fight on my behalf. Protect their lives. Comfort and encourage them and their families.


12:45 p.m. The firing squad stands guard in front of the chapel in parade rest. They have now been joined by the bugler. The chapel is filling up. A video is playing on the screen at the front of the chapel. The images cause me to weep. I force myself to watch as the song “American Soldier” plays. The images . . .

Soldiers in battle . . . covered by the desert dust. . . tear stained faces . . .    guns standing in the sand with helmet resting on top . . . the makeshift memorial of a fallen soldier.

PFC Shaun Edwards was born April 6, 1984. He was killed in battle April 23, 2004. He had just turned 20. PFC Edwards was manning a machine gun when he was killed. He arrived in June 2003 to join the 121st Signal Battalion. In High School he wrestled and played football. He was apparently a genius with computers and electronics. His father, a Viet Nam veteran, his mother and sister all live in Illinois.


At the front of the chapel behind the platform bearing PFC Edwards’ helmet, boots and weapon is a table draped in a white cloth. Behind the table are three flags. On the left is the American flag. The German flag is in the middle. On the right is the unit flag with attachments (streamers) from all previous battles fought. The service
begins with the singing of our National Anthem. Following remarks from various commanders, my friend, Joanie, sings “It Is Well”.


The already emotional service takes a dramatic turn at the end with the Last Roll Call. The sergeant begins calling roll by last names. As the name is called a soldier stands and answers “here Sergeant.” As he calls PFC Edwards’ last name there is no answer. You can hear the sound of sobbing throughout the chapel . He calls again. Still no answer. I believe it is the third and final call when he uses his rank and full name. “Private First Class Shaun Edwards.” The silence is haunting. Everyone is asked to stand and the quiet is shattered by the “Firing of Volleys” from the firing squad who has stood for hours in the front lawn of the chapel. And finally, the bugler begins the playing of “Taps.”


The enormity of emotions I am experiencing is not merely a sense of patriotism. It is something much more personal. It is experiencing a realization that PFC Edwards died for me. I am experiencing a very personal awareness of the sacrifice that has been made, of the price that has been paid.


The sergeant who did the Last Roll Call today, while wiping his eyes, tells of how extremely difficult this was for him. The chaplain explained later that if there is family present sometimes they don’t do the Last Roll Call because it is just too painful for them.


A young man I saw earlier this morning who came and sat in the chapel while it was prepared for the memorial is apparently PFC Edwards’ supervisor. He said a few words during the service. After everyone cleared out of the chapel he has come back in and sits alone on the front row for quite a while. A very sad picture of a grieving friend and comrade. I believe his name is Dowdy. It is contained sorrow, but so very evident. Twice I've seen him all alone just sitting – I wonder what he is thinking. It seems clear to me that he is very affected by this death – or maybe it is this death and the 20 or so other soldiers from this unit who have lost their lives this month.

O Lord, have mercy on all of our service men and women.

Hunger and Thirst for Righteousness (from the archives)

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they will be filled. "No other standard is sufficient and no other pursuit is more worthy." Words from our pastor on Sunday as he preached from Matt. 5:6. This sermon series from Matthew 5 has been inspiring and convicting. Our pastor has pointed out that the beatitudes are in a progressive order. In order to hunger and thirst for righteousness we must first be meek - surrendered to God's control. To be meek we must mourn - the deep gut wrenching sorrow over our sin. And to mourn we must first be poor in spirit - able to recognize God as our source and pursuing him and his will rather than attempting to be successful in our own strength.

It is encouraging to know that as I place God first, acknowledge his holiness and my sinfulness and yield to his control that my daily appetite will be for MORE of him. And his word to me is that "I will be filled." I will be satisfied. I am reminded of David in Psalm 23 when he says "I shall not want." When he is all I desire - I will never be without. A few years ago I wrote a song based on Ex. 3:13-15 where God speaks to Moses and says, "I AM WHO I AM."

"You are the great I AM, the One who will be there.
You will be all I need, no matter when or where.
You will be there, and there is nowhere that I could ever go
And find that your gone, I'm never alone, for you will be there." O Lord, I hunger and thirst for righteousness. Not my righteousness (which is like filthy rags) but your righteousness. I desire your righteouseness for no other standard is sufficient and no other pursuit is more worthy. Nothing, Lord, compares with you.

The Healing Path

Recently, I had the opportunity to visit my dear friend in her new home. Actually, the home isn't new and, in fact, she has lived there for several years - but it was new for me to see her in this particular home. Very quietly, yet with unbridled excitement, she showed me all of the flower gardens she has created in her yard. It was obvious that much thought had gone into each bed and that great care had been given in creating and maintaining them. She calls this "playing in the dirt" and likens it to 'therapy'. Unfortunately for my friend, she lived through a great sadness in her life. But God in His tenderness has brought her into a place of life and wholeness. I walked the pathways that she had labored over. She explained how each bed and pathway had become a reality. She has dug, uprooted, placed stones, planted flowers and ground cover - and all of this playing in the dirt has produced great beauty. I could not help but see the beauty that God has created in her, as well, with all of the digging, uprooting and planting that He has done in her life through the work of the Holy Spirit. I am thankful for the healing work that God does in our lives and I was blessed to have the privilege of experiencing the beauty of my friend's healing path.

He will not let me fall

It hardly seems possible but it has been three years since we brought Sasha, Kathryn and Collin home from Russia.  As one might imagine, it has been a challenging time for each of the seven members of our family.  Change is difficult and we have all been subjected to our share.  There have been days when I've felt weary, exhausted by the demands placed on me as the mother in this melting pot family.  It has often appeared overwhelming and I have stumbled under the weight of my perceived failures.  But in the midst of it all,  the years have also brought opportunities for growth, building of relationships and lots and lots of laughter.  We still deal with all the things that go along with having 5 kids living as a family under the same roof, but we are experiencing peace and the all-consuming love of God.  The faithfulness of God is certain and constant and His mercies are new every morning.  When I am weak, He is strong.  My confidence is in Him because He is never weary and He will not let me fall.