One Defining Moment

September is a busy month for a teacher, and this September day was no exception. The moment I woke, thoughts of what I needed to accomplish filled my head. Aside from my normal teaching load at school, there were errands to run and people to call. Feeling the pressure of too much to do and too little time, I drove to school ticking off the many things I must accomplish before my head finally hit the pillow that night.

In the middle of a mid-morning math lesson, there was a knock on my classroom door. The principal and school nurse stood outside, beckoning me to join them. Setting my class to work on a set of problems, I ducked out of the room. My principal put hands like ice into mine. “We are under attack,” she informed me. “Both towers of the World Trade Center in New York City have been hit. All planes in the United States are being grounded. Parents are going to start arriving to take their children home. We are closing for the day, as soon as the children are picked up.”

Stunned, I tried to get my mind around what she was telling me. “Steve called from work and said to tell you he is fine, but they are closing down the government. He will make his way out of the city and get home eventually.” Now it was getting personal. Was my husband in danger in Washington, D.C.? It seemed like the whole world had suddenly gone under the shadow of a cloud. My teeth almost chattering, I shakily went back into my classroom, trying to decide what and how much I should tell my students. The world had changed in an instant. All of those tasks I was so worried about accomplishing that morning? I never gave them a second thought. Suddenly all that mattered was getting my kids and husband safely home and being together again.

We’ve all had those moments when everything changed. The minute we were pronounced husband and wife. Bringing a new life into the world. Hearing tragic news, like when Kennedy was assassinated. Learning of a fatal illness or a sudden death of a loved one. After those defining moments, the world has permanently morphed for us. We will never be the same.

Of all defining moments, the event with the most far-reaching affect was the instant that Adam and Eve bit into the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. With that first bite, the world was changed forever. The perfect creation God had so carefully orchestrated would never be the same, forever to groan under the burden of sin's curse. The crowning achievement of that creation, man and woman, who originally reflected His glory, were now running to hide their nakedness from Him. No longer would they meet with God in the evenings to walk the garden in fellowship. The relationship had changed forever.

In that one moment, hearing the crunch of that first bite, Satan was savoring victory. It was so easy. All he had to do was get the woman thinking about the fruit, questioning God’s motive for the restriction in the garden. By getting her to turn her eyes toward what God had commanded she could not have, he had started the wheels in motion. It was an amazing accomplishment. Everything God had created was ruined, tainted by the presence of sin. I’m sure he thought he had won. It was all over but the celebration.

But it was a temporary victory. That very evening, God gave Satan the bad news. He would place enmity between the woman’s offspring and Satan’s. And while Satan might be able to land a glancing blow on this One’s heel, that enmity would crush Satan’s head. Final victory would go to the Lord.

Another defining moment came thousands of years later when a solitary figure silhouetted against the sky bowed His head and gave up His spirit. His death on the cross had been planned before the foundations of the world. And in that final moment of sacrifice, He exchanged His life for ours. Death had lost its power. The captives would be set free. Hope for salvation suddenly became a possibility. All in one defining moment.

In God We Trust

In the days and months following the Black Tuesday stock market crash in 1929, despair over financial ruin prompted many suicides. One man left this note behind before ending his life: "My body should go to science, my soul to Andrew W. Mellon, and sympathy to my creditors." Eventually the despair over lost fortunes trickled down to the general population, when savings carefully accrued through lifetimes of frugal living evaporated as banks failed. For one very long decade, hope was difficult to come by.

When you base your security and hope on the wrong thing, the rug may very well get pulled out from under you.

God made His desire that His people trust only in Him very clear as they prepared to enter the Promised Land. Knowing a human tendency to trust in one's own devices, He cautioned the nation's future leadership: "He shall not multiply horses for himself... He shall not multiply wives for himself... nor shall he greatly increase silver and gold for himself" (Deuteronomy 17:16-17). In a quest for any of these, a king would ultimately be seeking security in the wrong places. A build up of horses would increase military might. God wanted the nation to trust in Him, not in their own ability to fight off an enemy. A king often married to solidify treaty agreements with other nations. But God did not want the nation's sense of security to come from promises made from the peoples surrounding them. And he did not want them to base their security on wealth, either. God wanted Israel's security to be based on Him alone.

How important is it to God that we as individuals base our confidence and security in Him? Pretty important. Near the end of his life, King David gave the order that all of Israel and Judah be counted in a census. Seems harmless enough, until we hear the census results that were given to David. 800,000 sword bearers resided in Israel, and 500,000 troops in Judah. David wasn't interested in counting people. He was counting troops. This was a sin of pride and self-sufficiency, of basing confidence in military might. Bad move.

God was quick to respond. He sent a plague upon the nation and 70,000 men died that day. It was hard to miss the message.

On an earlier occasion, when the Israelites stood poised at the gateway to the Promised Land, they shrank back in fear as spies sent in earlier to check out the land gave their report. The inhabitants of the land were huge. The cities were well-fortified. Anyone with half a brain would know their quest to take the land was hopeless. Two lone men, Joshua and Caleb, argued against the masses. "If the Lord is pleased with us, then He will bring us into this land and give it to us... Do not fear the people of the land, for they will be our prey. Their protection has been removed from them, and the Lord is with us." But the people refused to trust God. Their punishment would fit the crime. God never allowed them to enter the Promised Land. They perished in the desert because of their sin.

Oh, yes, my friends, God is serious about our trusting Him. Jesus was, too. When asked to cast a demon out of a young boy, he took exception to the father's lack of confidence expressed in his request: "If you can do anything, take pity on us and help us!"

Everything came to a halt. "If?" Jesus said. "If you can? All things are possible to him who believes." It wasn't until the man expressed a desire to trust Him that Jesus healed his son.

On the front of each US coin, the familiar words are imprinted: In God We Trust. They are an ironic reminder that our security cannot be in money, power, or other people. Our hope must lie in the Lord alone.

In Christ, the solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.

All other ground is sinking sand.

The Discipline of Forgiving

“Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.” Ephesians 5:31-32

When we were dating, my husband had the habit of sending me, along with his letters, four or five pink demerit slips he had earned while attending Bible college. At one point I asked him just how many he possessed, since he appeared to be drawing from a never-ending supply. He showed me the stack in the top drawer of his desk. It was impressive.

Now don’t get the wrong idea—they were all for relatively small misdemeanors, like leaving the lights on or the bed unmade. Over time, however, they accumulated into enough of a statement that he was called into the dean’s office and asked to give an account for his actions. Apparently small infractions, over a long period of time, can add up.

This principle is true in relationships as well. It is why Paul, in describing a godly kind of love, reminded the Corinthians: “Love is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” In this simple description, Paul gives us powerful preventive medicine for all of our relationships: we must maintain an ongoing discipline of forgiveness.

The Old Man of the Mountain, a massive granite formation which once overlooked Franconia Notch, New Hampshire, stood for thousands of years, most likely created by glaciers that once moved over northern New Hampshire. It was the state symbol, and beloved enough to earn a place on the New Hampshire state quarter. Thousands of tourists stopped each year on their way up I-93 to take photographs of this famous landmark. Then one night in May 2003, during a heavy wind and rain storm, the Old Man formation collapsed into the valley below. What could fell such a huge monument, after it had stood for thousands of years? Tiny individual molecules of water.

When water freezes, it expands. The collapse of the Old Man was a result of small amounts of water seeping into the cracks year after year, freezing and expanding, making the fissures just a bit wider each time. Finally, the cracks became wide enough to weaken the entire structure, and the monument crumbled.

Elisabeth Elliot wrote of this principle within the context of marriage: “Marriages break up when ‘small’ things accumulate and resentments build. Love is the intention of unity. Resentment is the destroyer of unity.” Making frequent decisions to forgive is crucial to the health of a relationship.

Easier said than done, you are probably thinking. What if the offending party is not sorry and shows no sign of repentance from the behavior that hurt you in the first place?

You are not alone—Peter struggled with this idea as well. “How many times must I forgive?” he asked the Lord. He then generously offered, “Up to seven times?” Rabbinic standards required forgiving up to three offenses. Peter was willing to more than double the standard. Surely seven times, the number denoting completeness, would be enough.

Jesus took care of Peter’s faulty expectation with his answer. “Seventy times seven,” he replied.

How can we choose to forgive on a daily basis? By keeping our eyes trained on Christ. By choosing to forgive, we are expressing what he has freely done for us. We were forgiven when we did not deserve mercy. That’s the meaning of grace: undeserved favor.

To indulge in harboring grievances is most often an exercise in self-absorption. We struggle to forgive a wrong because we feel we deserved better than what was done to us. Christ deserved better. He deserved honor and glory because he was God. Yet he chose to lay aside his equality with God and humbled himself to obedience, to the point of death on a cross. Amy Carmichael observed: “If I am soft to myself and slide comfortably into the vice of self-pity and self-sympathy; if I do not by the grace of God practice fortitude, then I know nothing of Calvary love.”

Choosing to forgive is really a reflection of our understanding of how much we have been forgiven ourselves. It is a discipline which often must be performed outside of our emotional state. We are choosing to love because we know we are loved. And as we imitate our Savior in forgiveness, we understand a bit more of what it took for him to bear our sin.

Fly the Flag

I love the 4^th of July. I love the smell of meat on the grill, outdoor picnics, and fireworks. But what I love best of all is the plethora of American flags decorating lawns, houses, and storefronts. Seeing the red, white, and blue proudly displayed always makes me smile.

On the afternoon of 9/11, like most Americans, Steve and I sat at our kitchen table trying to take in the trauma the country had just experienced. Such senseless acts of terror, so many innocent lives lost. Steve could see the plume of smoke rising from the Pentagon as he left his place of work that morning when his agency shut down. We stood in solidarity with those who had been directly affected in the loss of a loved one. How could we express our sympathy, our support? I suddenly had an idea. "Let's hang our American flag," I said.

My husband nodded. "I already put it out."

Flying the flag makes a statement. It expresses loyalty to the country and to our fellow countrymen. It is a declaration of our commitment to freedom and democracy.

We as Christians have a banner to fly as well. Peter urged his readers to do just that for the unbelieving community around them. "Keep your behavior excellent among the Gentiles, so that ... as they observe your good deeds, [they will] glorify God in the day of visitation." (1 Peter 1:12) Our actions, as observed by the world around us, are our flag. With them we display what we believe.

So what was the excellent behavior Peter urged his readers to display? Not preaching at the unbelieving with eloquent and persuasive speech. Instead, Peter's goal for his readers was a bit more subtle. The banner he wished his readers to display was submission.

"Submit yourself for the Lord's sake to every human institution, whether to a king as the one in authority or to governors sent by him... servants, be submissive to your masters with all respect, not only to those who are good and gentle, but also to those who are unreasonable...wives, be submissive to your own husbands so that even if any of them are disobedient to the word, they may be won without a word by the behavior of their wives."

These were probably hard words to swallow. The original recipients of Peter's letter were not living in a democracy. They were living under a Roman emperor, a tyrant. It wouldn't be long before their king would make their lives miserable with his relentles persecution of Christians. Slaves were at the mercy of their masters, who could be abusive and unfair. Wives had few rights in first century society. They were the property of their husbands and at their mercy for much of their well-being.

Those in authority had tremendous power and often abused it. Submission was no guarantee of fair treatment or reciprocated kindness. Besides, Peter had just written they were heirs to the kingdom of God. Why should they submit?

Peter anticipated their doubts by reminding them of the example Christ had set before them. "While being reviled, He did not revile in return; while suffering, He uttered no threats, but kept entrusting Himself to Him who judges righteously." Christ suffered on our behalf. He chose to set aside his power and privilege and submit to those who sought to kill him. But his submission was done from a position of power. In the garden, as the Roman guard and Temple officers arrested Jesus, Peter swung a sword, ready to fight to the death to protect Jesus. Jesus turned to him and said, "Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and He will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? How then will the Scriptures be fulfilled, which say that it must happen this way?" Make no mistake about it, Jesus was no victim. He willingly set aside his power and authority and purposefully laid down his life. In fact, he lived his entire life in perfect obedience to the Father. Submission marked the life of Christ.

What better flag to fly, then? If we are living to follow Jesus, we must follow him in the ways he lived. We must display his kingdom principles in our actions. Our banner, therefore, should be our servanthood, selflessness, and submission to "every human institution." It should be flown in response to our love for God and our commitment to what we believe. And as those who have yet to believe observe the flag we fly, they will see God in us.

"Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven." Matthew 5:16

Before and After: The Coleman Estate

When we moved to Mystic Lane twelve years ago, it had Home Improvement written all over it. I thought it would be fun to let you see the changes that have taken place since we made this house our home.

We pulled out all of the old bushes, which were probably planted in 1970. They were most definitely past their prime. We replaced three yards of topsoil and put in all new shrubs. Then we had our friend Bud put a roof on the existing porch slab and put in a new front door.

Here is a view from the street. It's almost not the same house!!

We also added a screened in porch on the back of the house. (The beautiful evergreen on the right in the "before" picture got taken out when we lost the giant tree a few years back. You can see pictures of that fiasco here. It just clipped the roof of the porch, but killed three evergreens in the process. I still grieve their loss!)

Here are a couple of photos to show you what our porch is like on the inside. We love, love, love having that outdoor space.

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Hope you liked seeing our makeover, 12 years and still going strong!! Thanks for clicking in!

The Rock

Standing as a guardian over the entrance to the Mediterranean Sea, the Rock of Gibraltar is a world-famous landmark. Its white limestone cliffs stand in stark contrast to the blue sea and sky around it. The Greeks called it a "Pillar of Hercules." The Phoenicians believed it marked the end of the known world. Its very name invokes an image of strength and endurance. A person who exhibits these characteristics will often be called "The Rock of Gibraltar."

Isaiah used a rock as a metaphor to describe the enduring faithfulness of God. He had just finished warning the people of impending crisis. Both the northern kingdom of Israel and the southern kingdom of Judah would experience God's judgment for turning away from him. Assyria would sweep across the land and bring fierce destruction. Isaiah knew if the people chose to focus on the circumstances all hope would be lost. So he directed their attention back onto the Lord. "You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, whose thoughts are fixed on you. Trust in the Lord always, for the Lord God is the eternal Rock." (Isaiah 26:3, NLT)

While judgment was necessary, God had not forgotten his promises to the nation of Israel. Isaiah described the man who has put his confidence in the promises of God as at perfect peace. If you translate that Hebrew phrase literally, it reads "Peace, peace." In Hebrew, word repetition is used to emphasize something. Even the word itself, shalom, embodies the idea of completeness. Every part of who we are is in total harmony with the will of God when we have shalom. Now think of this completeness times two: shalom, shalom. And that is what the man has who trusts in the Lord.

Until recent years, my airline travel was fairly limited. So I interpreted any turbulence, strange noises, even water vapor coming off the wings as possible indicators of impending doom. That all changed for me on a flight home from North Carolina. I was seated across from a uniformed pilot, apparently on the way to his next assignment. It was a particularly bumpy ride, and a few times the coffee actually leaped out of my cup. Normally this would have put me into a panic. But this time I watched the pilot. As long as he calmly continued to sip his coffee and read his paper, I knew all was well. So I kept my eyes on him and ignored the circumstances around me.

There will always be things in our lives that drive us to our knees. God deliberately places them there so that we will not become independent and abandon our relationship with Him. When we need Him, we seek Him. And as the winds of challenge pummel us, we hide ourselves in the cleft of the rock. Its solid surface reassures us and shelters us from the fury of the storm. He is the Rock who will not be moved. And the man who trusts in Him has perfect peace.

On Christ the Solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand.
All other ground is sinking sand.

Into the Light

She had never seen him before in her life. She saw by his clothing he was a Jew. As she moved toward the well, he startled her by striking up a conversation, requesting she give him a drink with the jug she carried. "You are asking me, a Samaritan woman, to give you a drink?" she blurted out, astonished by his willingness to converse with her.

"If you knew who I was," he told her, "You would be asking me for living water. Everyone who drinks the water I'm offering will never be thirsty again."

"Sir, give me this water, so I will not be thirsty, and not have to travel all the way here to draw water anymore," she said.

"Go," he said. "Call your husband and come here." She quickly informed him his assumption about her marital status was mistaken. "It's true you have no husband at present," he agreed. "For you have had five husbands, and the man you are living with now is not your husband."

Her mouth dropped open at his startling revelation. How could he know so much about her? And why so abruptly bring up her sordid history when thus far he had seemed only intent on kindness?

We, too, might puzzle at Jesus' blunt and seemingly confrontational words. How could these be spoken by a loving savior? His conversation with the Samaritan Woman is only understandable when read in light of Jesus' intent. He was leading her to a place where forgiveness and healing were possible. He knew she could never accept an offer of salvation if she thought her shameful past was not known in the offering. Bringing it out into the open would allow an honest relationship with God that would truly quench her thirsty soul.

"Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me and know my anxious thoughts; and see if there be any hurtful way in me," David prayed. Our sin can keep us from intimacy with God, even after we are saved. Taking a good, honest look at ourselves can be a revealing exercise. But the Bible does not instruct us to do so alone. We are to take the Lord with us on our internal journey.

Why is this so important? Richard Foster cites two reasons. First, if we do the examination on our own, there might be a temptation to justify our actions, to rationalize away the blame and guilt. Involving the Lord will bring an integrity to our perception, forcing our evaluation to be made in light of His perfect holiness. Second, with the Lord's presence we avoid the converse trap of falling into despair as we realize how short we have fallen. Instead, knowledge of his great love and mercy brings hope, and our appreciation of the depths of the grace of God only grows.

It is not a comfortable process. Reality can be painful to view and even more painful to confess. Yet like a physical infection, only when sin is brought into the open can healing begin. As Foster assures us, "Under the searchlight of the Great Physician we can expect good always."

After months of freezing temperatures here in Maryland, we were recently blessed with a few days of balmy breezes. Snow, around since mid-January, quickly disappeared as the temperatures soared into the sixties. But I noticed, as Sasha and I walked one early morning, that patches of snow and ice still remained where evergreen trees shaded the ground, preventing the sun from doing its magic. Winter's icy grip remained where the sun failed to reach.

When we allow sin to remain hidden in our hearts, we deny ourselves the healing touch of God in those cold, hard places. Confession is good for the soul. It is time to rid ourselves of our shameful secrets and bring them out into the light and warmth of the saving grace of God.

"He who conceals his sins does not prosper, but whoever confesses and renounces them finds mercy." Proverbs 28: 13

Avoiding Hypocrisy

A friend of mine (who is not a believer) recently shared a conversation overheard between someone she knew to be a Christian and a senior citizen in their care. The Christian was shockingly abusive in her treatment of the elderly woman, interjecting her venomous accusations with vulgar language and hate. Outraged, my friend told me, “She’s such a hypocrite. She goes around thinking she’s holier than anyone else and at the same time treats someone so cruelly.” The body of Christ holds no interest for my friend in light of the hypocrisy she observes in its members.

It’s a sobering thought. But even my unbelieving friend would admit she herself does not live up to her own standards. We all fail to live out our standards. What is the difference between that and being a hypocrite? We need look no further than the pages of the New Testament to find the answer.

The most prominent and influential religious leaders of Jesus’ day were the Pharisees. It was a society which came into being during the Exile, when the majority of Jews lived on foreign soil, relocated by conquering armies. Knowing the exile was a judgment from God for disobedience, once back on their own turf, the Pharisees vigorously promoted adherence to both Mosaic and Oral Law. They were determined to keep Israel from making a repeat mistake.

Unfortunately, their strict observation of the Law quickly became a source of pride. Josephus, a Jewish historian of Jesus’ day, described the Pharisees as “a body of Jews who profess to be more religious than the rest.” Jesus identified the dichotomy of their standards. “Woe to you Pharisees! You clean the outside of the cup and the platter, but inside of you, you are full of robbery and wickedness.” He also told a story about a Pharisee who prayed: “God, I thank you that I am not like other people; swindlers, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.” The Pharisees failed to see the imperfection in themselves and so felt free to condemn others.

Jesus warned his disciples about the temptation to judge: “How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye, and behold, the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.” We are hopelessly inadequate to judge when we are as guilty as those we condemn.

There are two steps to becoming a hypocrite. First, refuse to take an honest look at how you have failed to keep a standard. Second, judge someone else on that standard more harshly than you do yourself.

How do we avoid hypocrisy? We need to keep a realistic view on our relationship with God. “By grace you have been saved, not of works… lest any man should boast.” (Ephesians 2:8, 9) We all began our standing with God on the same playing field: dead in our trespasses and sins. Our relationship with God is based on Christ alone. After saving us in a selfless act of mercy, God continues to shower us with grace as we live out our salvation. Any good we do is done through His power. We exist through the merciful grace of God.

Knowing our own debt to grace should impact how we view others. They are in need of God’s mercy, just as we are. Rather than standing in condemnation, we should respond in empathy to their imperfection. We are all in the same boat.

Jesus told a parable about a servant who owed a huge debt to the king. The king demanded payment, and told the servant to sell himself and his family to repay the debt. The servant begged for mercy. The king, moved to compassion, acquiesced. The servant then turned around and revealed his ungrateful heart by throwing a peer into jail for a far smaller debt owed him. The other servants were outraged. How quickly he had forgotten the mercy he had so recently received!

How can we gratefully accept grace from God for our failures and weaknesses, yet turn around and condemn others for theirs? As recipients of mercy, our lives should be marked by compassion and a willingness to extend grace to those around us.

“Brothers, even if anyone is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; each one looking to yourself, so that you too will not be tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself.” Galatians 6:1-3

Power to Succeed

He thought he had gotten away with it.

The battle had been nothing short of amazing. The walls of Jericho had simply crumbled as the army of Israel gave its shout. The soldiers swarmed into the city, destroying all but Rahab and her family as previously arranged. The orders were clear: take no prisoners, take no plunder. The city belonged to the Lord.

But Achan had disobeyed. The riches he came across as they swept through Jericho were too much of a temptation. He took a beautiful robe, gold, and silver and hid them within the folds of his clothing. No one will ever know, he thought as he stood with the others watching the rubble of Jericho go up in flames. His bounty would give his family a good start in the Promised Land. He brought his forbidden prize back to the camp and buried it beneath the family tent. No one saw. He went to bed that night alone in the knowledge he was now a rich man.

But in their next battle, Israel was soundly defeated. As God had promised to win their battles for them, Joshua knew something was terribly wrong. In answer to his pleas, God informed him there was sin in the camp. Joshua was led first to the tribe, then the family, and finally to Achan's household. Knowing he had been caught red-handed, Achan confessed. He, his family, and his livestock were sent into the wilderness. There Israel stoned the lot of them and burned their remains.

Why destroy the whole family? The sheep, the donkeys, the oxen? The truth of the matter is our sin affects far more than just ourselves. It reaches its slimy tentacles beyond us and wrecks havoc in the lives of those around us. We do no one any favors when we choose the destructive path of sin.

We usually don't start out intending to sin. So why do we succumb? Our old nature craves self-satisfaction. While we have been given a new potential, the old potential remains within us. The conflict between the two can be intense. "For the flesh sets its desire against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh," Paul wrote the Galatians. "These are in opposition to one another, so that you may not do the things that you please."

Jesus put it this way: "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." Bottom line: we can't win against the temptation to sin alone.

That's the bad news. But there is good news. God has made great power available to us: the same power that raised Christ from the dead and seated him at God's right hand in the heavenly places. It will give us everything we need to live a godly life, and will accomplish far more than we could ever ask or think. With His power, we can live lives victorious over sin.

So how do we tap into this amazing resource?

We can start by getting ourselves out of the way. We must stop making our walk with God all about our performance. We were inadequate to earn our salvation, and that inadequacy continues in our ability to live the Christian life. Tapping into the power of God is about recognizing we are not only saved by grace, but we live by grace as well. Jesus warned his disciples that abiding in him was their number one priority: not doing things for him, but resting in him and in his sufficiency.

"Who is adequate for these things?" asked Paul. The answer is none of us are. We need to get our eyes off of ourselves and on to the God who empowers us. "Apart from me, you can do nothing," Jesus warned. We cannot win over sin on our own. But we can do anything when we are infused with the power of God.

"I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." Philippians 4:13

No Wrath, Ever

Journalist and art historian Lewis Hind once wrote of a personal epiphany about his father. Mr. Hind was a stern parent who administered discipline with an iron hand. Lewis respected his father, but even more, he feared him. One Sunday morning that all changed. He was sitting in a church pew next to his father when the urge to sleep overtook him. Try as he might, young Lewis could not keep his eyes open. As he began to nod off, movement next to him startled him awake. His father raised him arm. Lewis flinched, sure his father meant to shake or strike him. Instead, Mr. Hind stretched his arm over the back of the pew and drew his young son close to his side, encouraging him to snuggle up and relax. For the first time Lewis understood that his father loved him.

Sometimes what we think we know as truth turns out to be dead wrong.

From early on, Jewish theology carried the idea that sickness was always a result of sin. Many centuries ago, a friend of Job demonstrated this with these words: "Remember now, who ever perished being innocent? Or where were the upright destroyed? According to what I have seen, those who plow iniquity and those who sow trouble harvest it. By the breath of God they perish, and by the blast of his anger, they come to an end."

In Jesus' day, that idea persisted. Religious leaders questioned Jesus about one man's the state of blindness in John 9. "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he would be born blind?" Obviously, if you were blind, you were experiencing the wrath of God for some grievous sin. Or so they thought.

Jesus knew otherwise. He corrected their false belief by telling them it was neither. "It was so the works of God might be displayed in him," he said.

Mark tells the story in his gospel of a paralytic whose friends lowered him through a hole in the roof to see Jesus. Their faith in his ability to heal, as evidenced by their determined initiative, pleased Jesus. But when he addressed the paralyzed man, his first words are puzzling. He didn't say, as we think he might, "I will heal you." He said, "Your sins are forgiven."

Why did he say that? Certainly claiming authority to forgive sins was a statement to the religious leaders present in that house. Only God could forgive sins. With his proclamation, Jesus was claiming to be God. But what would "your sins are forgiven" have meant to Jesus' primary recipient, the paralytic?

For however long the man had been paralyzed, he had lived with the stares of others, silently accusing him of committing some terrible sin, evidenced by his physical condition. Worse, he knew the rejection and wrath of God himself. Or so he thought.

Jesus told him otherwise. He cleared away the man's guilt with one statement. Your sins are forgiven. God is not angry with you. He wants a relationship with you. Upon hearing those words and their implication, the burden of despair fell off the man's shoulders. He was spiritually healed.

Then, for good measure, Jesus did what no other could do. He commanded the paralytic to walk. And so he did. He picked up the mat on which he had so recently been carried and carried it home. With that physical healing, Jesus made his point. He was the Son of God. He had the authority to forgive sin. And he had just proved it.

Have you ever wondered if your difficult circumstances are God's punishment for your sin? That if you could be a better person, God wouldn't be angry with you? Don't buy into the lie. It's bad theology.

Jesus bore the wrath of God for our sin on the cross. He endured God's rejection, anger, and sin's consequences. If we believe in Christ, trusting him for our salvation, we will never be condemned for a single sin.

Jesus already paid the debt. God is not angry with you. True, sin makes him angry. But he placed his wrath for our sin on Jesus. As believers, we will never experience the wrath of God.

"For God has not destined us for wrath, but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ." 1 Thessalonians 5:9

Time to Lay Those Burdens Down

The longest river in the world, the Nile, flows 4,130 miles from its headwaters in Africa's mountainous lakes region to the Mediterranean. Sediments from as far away as Rwanda are carried northward by the force of the water as it plummets over falls and sweeps through channels in relentless movement toward the sea. Near the mouth, the river's banks suddenly widen, and the water spreads out, losing energy in the process. As the velocity slows, much of the sediment, after being carried thousands of miles through the desert, drops to the river bottom. Thousands of years of these deposits have resulted in the famous Nile Delta, an enormous landform easily seen from space.


Sometimes it takes slowing down before a burden can be deposited. David knew this fact well. He wrote: "He leads me beside quiet waters. He restores my soul."


I didn't used to be much on slowing down. As I raced through each day, tyranny of the urgent ran my agenda. We were raising four children, and I was working full time, throwing my energy into making my fifth grade classroom a place of wonder and discovery. Even my service given to the church held the same frantic pace. The busyness eventually took its toll on me, and I began to experience physical problems related to stress. Yet slowing down didn't seem like a viable option.


Then I went to seminary. One of the classes I was required to take was on the spiritual disciplines. I was skeptical from the first time I walked in the door. We Biblical Studies majors didn't think much of those counseling classes. Too much about feelings, not enough about exegesis. I took it because I had to. But I wasn't going to like it.


True to expectations, the professor had us doing some outside-the-box things. I would inwardly roll my eyes as he sent us out to meditate or participate in some touchy-feely exercise. Oh, please. Stop wasting my time!! As the class dragged on, I began to count the sessions until it would be over. Then one morning, as the class neared its end, we were told to go find a quiet place in nature and sit there for one hour, just listening to what God had to say to us. An hour? Of listening? Seemed a bit ridiculous to me. I reluctantly collected a notebook to record all of these messages I would supposedly receive and headed out to find a tree.


"OK, here I am," I begrudgingly informed God. "Fire away." My mind was full of the papers I had to write, the books I had to read, the Greek I had to translate. I could use this hour so much more effectively. I could hardly sit still. My frame of mind was anything but conducive to listening.


But as the hour dragged on I tried to relax and appreciate the peace and quiet. I began to perceive the Lord's presence. Not that he hadn't been there all along, mind you. I was just too preoccupied to notice.


I started to bask in the love and grace he has lavished on me. My thoughts went to his greatness and power and faithfulness, his mercies that were new every morning. I began to thank him for loving me and for the blessings he has put into my undeserving life. Suddenly, my former agenda seemed very shallow. I prayed again, this time with an open heart and mind. "Lord, show me what you desire," I pleaded.


God began to invade my thoughts. He wanted my heart more than my efforts. I was carrying too many burdens. It was time to put them down. So I did. I gave him my worries about finishing my studies successfully. I gratefully handed over concerns about my fledgling adult children awkwardly spreading their wings. My fears and anxieties fell off my shoulders as he impressed on me his power and ability to handle it all. And when the hour was up, I walked away feeling freer than I had been for a very long time.


We Americans are busy people. In our drive for productivity, we pick up burdens we don't have time to lay back down. It's time to slow down. Find a quiet corner in your house. Sit down unencumbered by the routine distractions and open your heart to him. As we embark on a new decade, make it a priority to give God the time he deserves. Don't go to him with an agenda. Let him set the pace. And as he leads you beside quiet waters, you will be restored. It's well worth the time.

My Son the PhD

My Son the PhD

Treasures from Darkness: Losing Much and Gaining it All

This is a blog post by a blogger friend of mine who has struggled with mental illness for much of her life. She is a deep thinker and has experienced darkness like many of us never will. Click on over and read her thoughts on giving to the Lord. I love what she has to say.


Treasures from Darkness: Losing Much and Gaining it All

A Sad Farewell

Born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Chuck was the fourth child of Charles George Coleman, Sr., and Alberta Claney. He graduated from Carnegie Tech and worked as a licensed professional engineer for a number of years.

With the onset of World War II, he served as a naval officer and eventually retired as Captain, USNR. The bulk of his government career was spent as a scientist, sitting on international military committees and serving as head of the verification branch of the U.S. Arms Control and Disarmament Agency.

While Chuck’s government career was impressive, he is perhaps best known for the thirty years he devoted to full-time Christian work. He was a well-loved speaker at camps, youth retreats, and conferences. (In fact, I met my husband at Camp Berea when his dad was the Bible teacher.) Chuck had a gift for explaining the scriptures on any level. His creativity knew no limits; to enhance his teaching, Chuck wrote skits, invented games and activities, and even composed songs to make God’s Word come alive for his audiences. He used the printed word to spread the message as well; in addition to the three published books (The Shining Sword, Song of the Trumpet, and Divine Guidance: That Voice Behind You) Chuck wrote hundreds of magazine articles, devotionals, and poems. He also earned a PhD in Theology from Trinity Theological Seminary.

In addition to his teaching ministry, Chuck was the endorsing agent for military chaplains from the Plymouth Brethren Assemblies. He also counseled many individuals and families back to health with compassion and wisdom. At age 80, Chuck accepted the position of pastor to Countryside Fellowship Church in Laurel, MD. He served the church for several years, then assumed the role of pastor emeritus, continuing his support and teaching until disabled by a stroke in 2005.

Chuck was happily married to Katherine Elizabeth Pfaff for 61 years. They have three children, Linda, Steven, and Rebecca, as well as six grandchildren: Adam, Daniel, Melanie, and Joseph Coleman, and William and Linda Neil. Chuck also recently welcomed two great-grandsons into the world: Stephen and Jonathan Coleman.

He will be remembered best by his family as a loving and wise father with a wonderful sense of humor. His love for and dedication to the Lord were an example to all who knew him. There is no doubt in my mind that he was greeted at heaven’s gates with the words “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” The life he lived was inspired by two of his favorite verses: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.” 2 Timothy 4:7-8

Today we bid farewell, but not forever. We know that one day we will all be reunited at the throne of God. Knowing he has gone on before us makes that hope all the more sweet.

The funeral home has a website which gives the service schedule, obituary, guest book, and a photo gallery. You can go there by clicking here.

On Trusting God

This is an excerpt from my weekly newsletter, The Dogwood Digest. It is in answer to a question I was asked on a recent retreat. If you would like to subscribe to the newsletter, use the link on the right of this page. Thanks!

How can I trust God when he took my husband and left me to raise my 3 ½ month old daughter alone?

My heart absolutely goes out to this young mom, struggling to trust God in her daily life while struggling with the loss of her beloved husband.

Trusting God through grief is perhaps one of the most challenging things we will face in this lifetime. It is true that God sometimes does things that defy human logic. We are hurting, and knowing God could have stopped the death from happening makes it even harder to accept.

I wish I could quote a verse that would answer why God allows bad things to happen. But finding answers is not always that easy. God is about our relationship with Him, and He works in each circumstance to bring us into a deeper, intimate knowledge of Him. This knowledge most often comes at a price; only after painful searching and struggle do we begin to see and understand Him on a deeper level. This is why pat answers ring false in our ears. There is nothing easy about the process. Trying to make things better with a few pithy words only trivializes the struggle.

Our God's ways are far beyond our level of comprehension. He makes no apologies for not making sense to us at times. Deuteronomy 29:29 states, "The secret things belong to the Lord our God." Paul remarked on our limitations of understanding as well: "Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and unfathomable His ways! For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who became His counselor?" (Romans 11:33-34)

While we may not have specific answers on why God allows tragedy in our lives, Scripture does give us guiding parameters as to where the answer must lie. One of my favorite seminary professors, Jonathan Master, illustrated this by drawing a playing field on the board. He used the following Scripture as the "fence posts" which defined the boundaries of the field.

1. God is not the author of sin (James 1:13)
2. Sin is the direct result of conscious moral volition (Genesis 3:1-6, James 1:14ff)
3. God sovereignly chooses to allow sin and its consequences (Romans 9:18-23)
4. God limits and controls evil (Job 1-2)
5. God will one day fully separate sin from us and from His new creation (Revelation 19:11-20:5)

Whatever we conclude about God's involvement in our tragedy must fall within the parameters of these truths.

One additional truth that has helped me in recent years is in knowing God is totally good. He cannot be anything but good-it is a part of His nature. Therefore, I can consciously count on His goodness even when circumstances might tempt me to think otherwise.

So what do we do while in the process of the struggle? When my mom died, my grief threatened to overwhelm me. As a leader on our church worship team, I could hardly sing praises on Sunday morning, because God remained silent in my pain. My agony became a spiritual battle as I prayed without answers. Yet in my head, I knew that God could be trusted, and so I kept on serving Him, even though my heart was broken and I had lost any sense that the Lord was with me. My husband kept telling me, "Just keep on being faithful. This storm will pass." It did. And instead of losing ground, I gained a deeper understanding of the Lord, and learned to trust him on a deeper level.

Our trust cannot be based in our circumstances or how well we interpret them or guess at God's intentions. Our confidence must be based in the character of God alone. And the better we know Him, the deeper will be our level of trust.

A Living Hope

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead." 1 Peter 1:3

When I was a little girl, our family of four bravely ventured on a trip from our home in Connecticut to visit relatives on the Gulf Coast of Florida. We Zines weren't big travelers, so this trip was a very big deal. It was summer. We would drive for three days, stopping at hotels each night. Exciting times.

The first day didn't go too badly. We drove as far as Washington, D.C., and took a quick tour of the sights. The second day was not as pleasant. Margie and I had already blown through the new toys my mom bought for the trip. We were tired of being in the car. Poor little Margie got carsick-- and we had to make several stops for her to be sick on the side of the road. And it was HOT. The south was in the middle of a record heat wave. Our car did not have air conditioning (few did in those days) and the constant humid, hot air blowing in on us didn't do much to cool us down. By the time we hit South Carolina, every one of us was wilted and desperate to get out of that car. Dad pulled into the first decent motel and got out to rent a room. They were full up. That began a nightmarish hour of going to hotel after hotel, to no avail. Every one we tried had no room at the inn. Finally, an angel disguised as a hotel clerk got on the phone for my dad and found us a place to stay. When we wearily pulled up to our hotel, we just about kissed the ground of its parking lot.

The next morning, Dad took a new tactic. Using his road map as a guide, he called ahead to the next planned stop location and made a reservation. We traveled that day in the security of the knowledge that no matter what happened on the road, a swim in a hotel pool and a cool, soft bed awaited us at the end of that day's travel. It made all the difference in how we faced another day's journey.

Peter wrote about a "living hope" that we have in Jesus Christ. It is part of the package that we received at the time of our salvation. First Corinthians 6:11 tells us we were justified. This term is a legal term, meaning we were declared innocent of all unrighteousness. We were also sanctified. The Greek root for this word means set apart for a new relationship with God. Finally, Romans 8:30 tells us we were glorified. Usually we think of our glorification as something that will be done for us in the future. Yet when Paul wrote about it in Romans, he used a verb tense which denotes an action already completed.

In other words, the living hope believers have for glory is a done deal. Already accomplished. Checked off the list. Our name is written in the book of life, in indelible ink (Rev 20:12). We have a guaranteed reservation for Heaven, with all of the benefits that living there will entail.

In fact, God has done more than just give us a promise of that eternity. He has marked us as His, by sending the Holy Spirit to live in each believer. His living presence is like a down payment on a property someone intends to purchase-- earnest money-- given to demonstrate the seriousness of the buyer. Ephesians 1:14 tells us the Holy Spirit is given as a down payment of our inheritance, with a view toward our coming redemption. Someday we will be changed, from perishable to imperishable bodies. We will reflect the glory of Jesus Christ perfectly. The old nature will be gone forever. No longer will we struggle with sin or its destruction. And we can bank on this hope because the Holy Spirit has been given to us to guarantee its fulfillment.

Knowing this should impact how we conduct ourselves in the journey.

I wonder if that is why Peter called it a living hope. It is not only a hope which affects our eternal future. It is a hope that has a tremendous influence on us right now. Being secure in our destination makes the trip through this life bearable. Hope makes all the difference.

Biblical Submission

In my most recent Dogwood Digest, a reader asks a question about submission in a marriage. I get a lot of hits on this blog when people Google the words "doormat mentality." Obviously submission is a controversial topic! The following is the result of my study on the Biblical concept of submission within the marriage relationship.

There are three places in Scripture that tell wives to submit to their husbands: Ephesians 5:22-24, Colossians 3:18, and Titus 2:5. Looking at the context of these passages gives us some clues as to what Paul meant by asking wives to submit.

Many people equate the word submit with obey. I do not believe Scripture supports this interpretation. In Ephesians 5, the instruction to the wife is preceded by a command for all believers: “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” The Greek word, hupotasso, is the verb used in both this and the command to the wives that follows. Therefore submit cannot be synonymous to obey here, since obviously everyone can’t obey everyone else. In Colossians 3, Paul tells the wives to submit to their husbands. Two verses later, he instructs children to obey their parents. The Greek word translated as obey, hypakouō, is a different word than submit. If Paul meant obey in both cases, why would he use different words?

So if submission does not necessarily mean obey, what does it mean?

The word hupotasso originally came from a military term, which meant to put the troops into order under a commanding officer. Eventually it took on a non-military usage as a “voluntary attitude of giving in, cooperating, assuming responsibility, or carrying a burden.”

From the contexts in both Ephesians and Colossians, that second nuance of meaning makes a bit more sense. I like the idea of cooperation or bearing a burden. If we as wives did everything in our power to enable our husband to fulfill what the New Testament defines as his role, what would that look like? There is no doormat mentality there. Rather, it is an idea of partnering together to help each other be obedient to the Word of God.

I don’t think submission in a marriage is about obedience at all. Instead, it is the decision on the part of the wife to support her husband in a sacrificial way, with no thought to herself. It is placing her husband’s needs above her own, with the purpose of enabling him to fulfill his role as her husband. It is just another opportunity to die to self. “For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body” (2 Corinthians 4:11)

In order to better understand the wife’s role, we must look at the husband’s part in the relationship. Paul states in Ephesians 5:23 that the husband is the “head of the wife as Christ is head of the church.” There are two Greek words for “head”: one is arche, which denotes “first” in terms of power and importance. Paul did not use this word. He used kephale, which means foremost in terms of position (like a cornerstone in a foundation). It was also a military term, indicating the one who went first into battle. Kephale was never used to mean leader, boss, or ruler. It describes the person who is out in front, serving those who follow him.

Submission is a voluntary act on the part of the wife. Husbands are never told to make the wife submit. In fact, the biblical definition of a leader is far removed from a dictatorial figure: “Be shepherds of God’s flock that is under your care...not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock.” (1 Peter 5:2-3)

I think that we as wives sometimes can hinder our husbands from obeying God’s commands. When we second guess everything he says, or contradict him in front of the children, or even show a lack of faith in his ability to be head of the family as Christ is head of the church, we make it difficult for him to fulfill the Scriptures defining his role. Yet when we love and support him in his efforts and respect him as the head of the home, he is enabled to love us as “Christ loved the church, and gave Himself up for her.”(Ephesians 5:25)

A wife, by her submission, sets the tone in her home. A wise older woman once told me that it was my responsibility to teach my children to respect their father. I took that advice very seriously. I determined to never speak disparagingly about my husband to my children. The larger part of that instruction, however, occurred as I lived out my commitment to love my husband in front of the kids.

I did a message on the idea of submission based on 1 Peter 3. You can hear it by clicking HERE. The message title is: Relationships that Reflect Hope: In the Home.

In Jesus' Name

Before I had a dog, I used to see pet owners out walking; dog and man strolling along at a companionable pace. I thought every dog was like that. Then we welcomed Sasha into our home.

On our walks, there is no easy, mutual enjoyment of the great outdoors. Sasha goes out the front door like a bullet, dragging me down the steps and driveway. No leisurely pace for this dog. She plows on ahead, leash strung tight, determined to get to where we are going. (Which is back home. I don't get it.) But every morning, I can be seen scurrying down the street behind the dog in an effort to keep from getting dragged off my feet.

I don't walk the dog. She walks me.

I hope you now have a visual picture of my less-than-genteel morning constitutionals. Because we all can tend to do the same thing-when we pray.

Jesus knew our tendency would be to pray just like Sasha likes to walk: charging forward with a laundry list of our own wants, showing little concern for the Master. So He qualified how the disciples should pray: "Ask anything in my name and I will give it to you." (John 16:23) What did He mean by this? Was He giving us a phrase to tack on to the end of a prayer like a stamp of approval? (In Jesus' name we pray, Amen.) Or did Jesus mean something more?

Some might invoke the name of Jesus in an effort to tap into the power that comes with the name. In Acts 19, there were men casting out demons using the name of Christ. "In the name of Jesus, whom Paul preaches," they intoned, "I command you to come out."

One day, an evil spirit answered them. "Jesus I know, and I know about Paul, but who are you?" he demanded, then proceeded to beat them to a pulp. Obviously, the name of Jesus is not an incantation used to summon some kind of magical power. So what is it?

To pray in the name of Christ is to acknowledge that our prayers are heard because of the sacrifice and redemptive work of Jesus. Approaching God was a problem because of our sin. Now that sin is covered, and we are told to boldly approach the throne of grace. Hebrews tells us Jesus "lives to intercede" on our behalf. When we pray in His name, we recognize without Him, our prayers would be ineffective.

But it is even more than that. To pray in the name of Christ is to pray in accord with His desires. To do or say something "in the name of" someone else is to assume their approval of that action. Peter used this very phrase in Acts 3 when he commanded a lame man: "In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene-walk!" Peter not only identified the power source for the miracle here. He also identified on whose behalf the miracle was being performed. Peter was acting as an ambassador for Christ.

Paul identifies himself as an ambassador in 2 Corinthians 5:20. "We are therefore Christ's ambassadors, as though God were making His appeal through us. We implore you on Christ's behalf: Be reconciled to God." Paul's goal was to present the message of God to others. An ambassador is a representative of his commander. He is not there to expound on his own viewpoint or opinions. He is there to make the desires of His chief known.

When we pray in Jesus' name, we are praying as ambassadors for Christ. This means our requests need to fall in line with what Christ would have prayed. That's a tall order. How can we know what He would ask?

Richard Foster tells us how: "When we have immersed ourselves long enough in the way of Christ, we can smell gospel. So we ask and do as we know He would ask and do. How do we know what Jesus would ask and do, you may ask? Well, how does a couple who has been married many loving years know what each other thinks and wants and feels? We know, even as we are known. This is how we pray in Jesus' name."

The ability to effectively pray in the name of Jesus results from a relationship with Him. When He instructed His disciples in John 16, they had just spent three years traveling by His side as He healed the sick and fed the hungry. They heard His teachings and listened to Him go head to head with the Pharisees. They were in an excellent position to pray in Jesus' name, because they knew Him so very well.

What about us? Our ability to pray in Jesus' name is also dependent on the relationship. We need to make it our business to know Him better and better. And as we learn His ways and develop the mind of Christ, our prayers naturally will fall into line with what He would have us pray.

Don't be discouraged if you feel you don't have that kind of relationship with Him. He'll welcome you right now (and every time you come) just as you are. A deeper relationship happens one baby step at a time.

This article is the latest Dogwood Digest, a devotional newsletter. If you would like to receive this weekly email, use the link on the right of this page to subscribe. Thanks!

A Hardening of the Arteries

When I was in fourth grade, much of our seatwork was done from the board. After noticing a gradual decline in my seatwork grades, my teacher became aware that I was squinting toward the blackboard. Concerned about my eyesight, she contacted my mom. We went to the eye doctor, who was astounded at how poor my eyesight had become. "I don't know how she can even walk around like this," he said. I was fitted for my first pair of glasses.

I'll never forget that day. When the optometrist placed the glasses on my face, I couldn't believe my eyes. Everything was so clear! All the way home I exclaimed what I could now see. Every brick on that building! Every leaf on that tree! My life had dramatically changed. I had no idea just how blind I had become.

When a change is gradual, like a slow descent into blindness, we are often not conscious that it is even happening. Hebrews 3:13 warns about this: "Encourage one another daily... so that none of you may be hardened by sin's deceitfulness." Sin has a hardening effect. When a sin remains unconfessed and unconfronted, it dulls our spiritual senses. Hearing the voice of God grows increasingly difficult. Blindness has come, in part. The irony is we most often are not even aware of its increasingly detrimental effects.

After a year of thinking he had gotten away with grievous sin, David's well-kept secret was finally exposed. God sent the prophet Nathan to bring David's adultery, lies, and murder out into the open. At that confrontation, David suddenly became aware of his loss of spiritual sensitivity. In Psalm 51, he wrote, "Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice... restore to me the joy of your salvation." The sin had come at a price: David grieved the lost joy of intimate communion with God.

When our hearts are hardened by the presence of sin, we lose far more than we realize. Our sense of God's presence in our lives is dulled. We completely miss the many ways He reveals Himself in our daily routine. Peace evaporates as we endeavor to live out life on our own. He is no longer our highest priority. We are living for ourselves, which is a sad and unfulfilling goal, since self is never satisfied. Bitterness eventually ensues. What started out to appease the flesh ends in torture.

The effectiveness of our prayer life is equally disrupted. Richard Foster writes on this in his book, Prayer: "Sin, by its very nature, separates us from God, rupturing the intimate fellowship and dulling our spiritual sensitivities. We become nearsighted and develop thickened eardrums, if you will. The result is an inability to discern the heart of God and an asking that is askew...Therefore, our prayers are hindered."

Like plaque that slowly and silently collects in the arteries, eventually creating a blockage that endangers the life of its host, sin is a foothold for Satan to use in the pursuit of his goal to destroy us. We nurse anger until it becomes bitterness. We justify selfish decisions to ourselves. We continue in our lack of integrity and rationalize it doesn't appear to hurt anyone. Sin and the father of lies himself have deceived us. And soon our hearts are hardened.

God will not allow us to drift off indefinitely. "God disciplines us for our good... it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." (Hebrews 12:10-11) He loves us too much to allow our own self-destruction. So He gets our attention, most often by introducing hardship into our lives. As we begin to feel need, we seek Him out once again. And in the light of His presence, our sin is exposed for what it is.

Yet we do not need to wait for the discipline and its painful effects. We can confront the problem right now. Ask God to reveal the sin that has hardened your heart towards Him. It has already been paid for and forgiven through the precious blood of Jesus Christ. But it is hurting you, robbing you of well-being. As you come face to face with the sin, be honest with yourself and with God. Acknowledge it for what it is. Let Him know you understand you cannot overcome the problem without Him.

Jesus told His disciples, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." (John 10:10) Don't allow sin to replace the abundant life He has given you with spiritual insensitivity. Live your life in the light, as it is meant to be lived.

"Search me, O God, and know my heart, test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." Psalm 139:23-24

An Impressive Ending to a Shaky Beginning

David and Svea Flood, Swedish missionaries, left their homeland in 1921 for the primitive jungles of interior Africa. While staying at the main mission station in the Belgian Congo, they joined forces with another young Scandinavian couple, the Ericksons. Both couples felt led by the Lord to take the gospel to the remote village of N'dolera.

The devoted missionaries were not welcome to live among the people in the village, because of the chief's fear of displeasing the gods. So the determined missionaries built their mud huts a half-mile up the mountainside from the town. As the months went by, the only contact they were allowed with the villagers was with a young boy who sold the missionaries eggs and chickens twice a week. Svea Flood shared the gospel with the boy. Eventually, he came to Christ. He would be the only convert in the entire time the missionaries lived in the jungle.

Life was difficult in such primitive conditions. Malaria took its toll on each of the missionaries. Discouraged and sick, the Ericksons decided to abandon the post and returned to the mission station. David and his wife Svea remained in the jungle alone. Soon Svea found herself to be pregnant. After a difficult labor, severely weakened from several bouts of malaria, Svea gave birth to a little girl. But the ordeal was too much for the sickly mother. She died seventeen days later.

Desolate and overcome with grief, David dug a crude grave for his young wife, took up his children, and abandoned his post. He arrived at the mission station, giving his newborn daughter to the Ericksons before leaving the continent for Sweden. His days in missionary service were over. Just eight months later, both the Ericksons took sick and died. The Flood baby, named Aggie, was given to American missionaries there at the mission station.

When Aggie was three, her adoptive parents brought her home to America. They took on a pastoral position in South Dakota. Aggie grew up there, married, and had children of her own. Her husband became the president of a Christian college in Seattle, Washington.

One day a Swedish Christian magazine arrived in Aggie's mailbox. She did not understand the language, but flipped through the pages of pictures. Suddenly one photo jumped out from the page. It was a picture of a primitive grave site, with a white cross engraved with the name Svea Flood. Aggie raced to her car clutching the magazine and drove across town to a professor she knew could translate the article for her.

The article told the story of two young missionary couples who ventured into the jungle to set up camp outside the village of N'dolera. A baby girl was born, and the young missionary mother died, but not before a young boy had been led to Christ. After the missionaries departed, eventually the grown boy persuaded the chief to allow him to set up a school in the village. One by one, he led each of his students to Christ. They, in turn, shared the gospel with their parents. Even the chief eventually came to know the Lord. As a result of that single convert's witness, over six hundred villagers were now believers. God had been faithful to use what the missionaries had mistakenly thought was a futile effort and wasted sacrifice.

Years later, Aggie attended a conference in England. She heard a man from Zaire tell about the spread of the gospel in his nation. Over 110,000 converts now lived in what was formerly the Belgian Congo. As his message ended, Aggie made her way to the front of the auditorium. With the help of a translator, she asked the man if he had ever heard of her parents, David and Svea Flood. "Yes madam," he replied. "It was Svea Flood who led me to Jesus Christ. I was the boy who brought food to your parents before you were born. In fact, to this day your mother's grave and her memory are honored by all of us."

While all missionary stories do not have this kind of spectacular ending, we can appreciate what this one serves to remind us. Very often, our well-intended efforts end in less than impressive results. We fail to say the right words at the right time. In our fear of blowing it, we hesitate to even try.

Rather than aiming at perfection, we just need to get in there and try. We can do so without fear, because God is not limited by our failure to do things just right. In our weakness, God does His best work. His power alone can work the greatest of stories. And he chooses to do so through our fledgling, awkward attempts at representing Him. Our God is mighty to save.

But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong...so that no one may boast before Him...Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord. 1 Corinthians 1:27-31

Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving; not by many or by few. 1 Samuel 14:6