The Skirmishes Go On

"O Death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?... Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." 1 Corinthians 15:55, 57

Once only inhabited by a small Japanese civilian community of sulfur miners and sugar farmers, the island of Iwo Jima became a stronghold of pivotal importance in World War II. As the war progressed, Japan evacuated its citizens from the island and prepared for the inevitable Allied forces invasion. A huge number of bunkers, hidden artillery, and an amazing eleven miles of tunnels were in place by 1944. Twenty-one thousand soldiers were at the ready when Allied forces began firing on Iwo Jima.

On the fourth day of the battle, the first objective was captured: Mount Suribachi. Five marines and a Navy corpsman were photographed raising the American flag at its summit. That moment is now immortalized in the Iwo Jima memorial in Arlington, VA.

Once the high ground was secure, the invasion slowly moved northward. Very heavy fighting continued as Allied forces eventually took the airfields and remainder of the island. The Japanese fighters considered surrender dishonorable and most tenaciously fought to the death. A month into the invasion, 300 Japanese soldiers launched a last-ditch effort counterattack. The casualties were heavy on both sides, but the next day, the island was officially declared secured by the Allies.

Even so, over 3,000 Japanese troops remained in the island's maze of caves and tunnels. More American lives were lost as they worked their way through the tunnel system routing those Japanese that refused to surrender. The battle may have been won, but the enemy continued to fight, determined to take as many with them in their demise as possible.

On Easter Sunday we celebrated the greatest victory the world has ever witnessed. The Son of God, after three days in the grave, rose from the dead. No longer are we under condemnation for our sin. It was dealt with, paid for, and cast from us as far as the east is from the west. The victory is already ours because Christ has already won. "When you were dead in your transgressions," Paul wrote, "He made you alive together with Him . . . having canceled out the certificate of debt . . . having nailed it to the cross." (Colossians 2:13-15) Sin no longer holds us slave in its power.

The enemy has also been soundly defeated. Satan's future final demise is already recorded in the Bible, when he is cast into the lake of fire to suffer torment for eternity (Revelation 20:10). The war is over.

Yet while victory has been recorded with indelible ink, the skirmishes still go on. While we were given new life at our salvation, we still struggle against our old sinful nature which relentlessly demands satisfaction, and we fight the enemy ever-tempting us to sin. As Paul wrote the Galatians, "For the flesh sets its desire against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; for these are in opposition to one another, so that you may not do the things that you please." (Galatians 5:17) The war may be over, but the fighting continues on.

These skirmishes are a part of the life God expects us to live. In fact, He carefully equips His soldiers to fight the good fight. Satan may have lost the war, but he is deadly serious about taking as many down with him as possible before the last nail is driven into his coffin. So we have been issued a belt of truth (a great thing when you are up against the Father of Lies!), a breastplate of righteousness, and shoes bearing the gospel message in which to stand firm. Our shield is one of faith, which can deflect every fiery dart of doubt and accusation the enemy can launch at us. Our head is protected by the helmet of our salvation. And last but not least, the sword of the Spirit, the Word of God, contains all the knowledge we need to win each skirmish, which mostly, after all, takes place in the mind.

We may even lose some of these skirmishes, especially when we attempt to fight in our own strength. But it is important to remember in those moments of depressing defeat: the war's victor has already been determined. The Good Guy won. Our hope is not in the circumstances of this world. It is in the future God has prepared for us, "an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you." (1 Peter 1:4) Nothing that happens to us on earth will impact the surety of our salvation. The battle belongs to the Lord.

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I Shall Not Want

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want...The words of David's 23rd Psalm eloquently describe the true contentment that can be had while basking in the Shepherd's care. Some believe this psalm to be a promise that the child of God will never experience a lack or unfulfilled need. Is this what David meant to express?

A quick perusal of most biblical characters reveals this to be a questionable interpretation. Many of those close to God's heart experienced times of want, suffering, or even lost their lives in their efforts to live for Him. Surely, if people like David, a man after God's own heart, or the prophets, chosen by God to communicate His message to the people, and even the Lord Himself, all lived lives involving suffering, we cannot expect to be shielded from the same.

Nineteenth century missionary Allen Gardiner is an example of one who dedicated his life to Christ and yet suffered. Gardiner, a former naval officer and devout Christian, felt God calling him to go to the Yagan Indians, a previously unreached people group in southern Argentina. He and six others made an arduous journey by boat to Yagan territory.

Their first contact was less than encouraging. The Yagans attacked the missionaries for their supplies. As the men could not resort to combat to protect their provisions (they were, after all, on an evangelistic mission), the group re-loaded their small boats and retreated to desolate Tierra Del Fuego, where they were forced to shelter for the winter.

Winters in Tierra Del Fuego's sub-polar climate are harsh, and the men's provisions proved gravely inadequate. One by one, every man in Gardiner's group died of sickness, starvation, and cold. They never got the chance to share the gospel with even a single Yagan Indian.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want... Obviously dying of starvation would not qualify as having every physical need met. What then did David mean? An answer can be seen in the journal entry of one of Gardiner's party.

Dr. Richard Williams, the physician of the team, wrote of his last days as he awaited death: "Let all my beloved ones at home rest assured that I was happy beyond all expression . . . and would not have changed situations with any man living . . . that heaven, and love, and Christ...were in my heart."

What could induce such a sense of peace and contentment amid such suffering? Williams understood he was in the arms of the Good Shepherd, a master who loves his flock: "He tends his flocks like a shepherd; He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart" (Is 40:11). Williams' focus was trained on the provider, not the provisions.

Certainly provision for our physical needs comes from God alone. "Every good and perfect gift is from above," James wrote. Our Shepherd knows our needs. But He wants us to let Him worry about them. "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well," Jesus instructed His disciples. Our gaze needs to be trained not on the things we need, but on the Shepherd.

Paul considered "every thing a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things." (Philippians 3:8) Later in his letter to the Philippians, Paul told them "I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through Him who gives me strength."

When we focus our gaze on the Lord and not the need, He supplies what we need to be content in any circumstance. Isaiah wrote, "Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint." (Isaiah 40:31) Did you catch the caveat? Our hope must be in the Lord. Only then will we find strength to endure whatever challenging circumstances are before us.

While our physical and material circumstances may fluctuate, we can rest our confidence in the goodness and perfect character of our Shepherd. Even when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we can do so without fear, because we know our Shepherd carries us close to His heart. Our hope is in the Lord. When we bask in His care as David did, we understand that while our physical needs may not always be met to our satisfaction, we can be satisfied. The secret is in where we choose to focus.

I came that you might have life and have it more abundantly. I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. John 10:10-11

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The Dead Line

One of the worst places to spend the Civil War was a little known prison camp on the south side of Chicago: Camp Douglas. As many as 18,000 Confederate men endured the brutal conditions there over the course of the war. One in five did not survive. The cruel treatment by the guards, combined with grossly inadequate food rations and a lack of the most basic of sanitary needs, were inhumane at best. The harsh Chicago winters were the hardest on the soldiers, who lived in overcrowded tents with no blankets.

Camp Douglas was located close to civilian residences, so the possibility of escaping prisoners was a concern for those in charge of the camp. Strict enforcement of boundaries was established. The border around the camp became known as the Dead Line. Any prisoner caught stepping even one foot over the line was shot dead immediately. One thin line stood between living and dying.

Since its first usage back in the Civil War, the term deadline has been adopted to other situations to describe a firm boundary. The newspaper business coined the phrase to mean a strict time limit on writers, necessitated by the urgency of each edition's distribution requirements. Editors set deadlines to let the writers know: finish the story on time, or it is dead. Now in our time-conscious 21st century, there are many kinds of deadlines.

There is a Dead Line described in Scripture as well in Numbers 16. The descendants of Israel were grumbling and complaining about the terrible judgment they had witnessed the day before. They blamed Moses and Aaron for the deaths of their peers. In response to their sin, God sent judgment upon the camp. A plague began to spread quickly among the people.

Moses urged Aaron, the high priest, "Take your censer and put in it fire from the altar, and lay incense on it; then bring it quickly to the congregation and make atonement for them." Aaron rushed to do his brother's bidding. He grabbed the incense and, ignoring the possibility that he, too, might succumb to the powerful plague, ran right into the midst of the people. The plague came to a stop where Aaron stood. Those on the other side of Aaron were not affected.

Scripture tells us, "He took his stand between the dead and the living, so that the plague was checked."

This Old Testament incident is a beautiful picture foreshadowing what Jesus would someday do for us. Despite the horrendous cost, He willingly went to the cross and endured God's judgment for the sins of the world. He now stands between the living and the dead, for "whoever believes in Him will have eternal life." (John 3:15)

Colossians 1:17 tells us that "He rescued us from the domain of darkness, and transferred us to the kingdom of His beloved Son." Darkness to light. Condemned to forgiven. Slave to free man. Death to life. His sacrifice is all that stands between certain judgment and eternal life.

Once having crossed the Dead Line over to freedom, it is unimaginable one might willingly choose to regress back again. Can you imagine a prisoner released from Camp Douglas wishing to return? Yet this is what we do when we sin. We exchange our freedom from sin's bondage and willingly put ourselves under its influence once again. We step out of the light back into the darkness.

Choosing sin is a destructive, self-defeating act. Worse, it makes a mockery of all Christ accomplished on our behalf. We work to resist sin not because we are afraid of God's wrath. That was taken care of at the cross. We resist sin because we have been carried over the Dead Line. Our lives need to reflect where we now live: in the light.

"For you were formerly darkness, but now you are Light in the Lord; walk as children of Light (for the fruit of the Light consists in all goodness and righteousness and truth), trying to learn what is pleasing to the Lord." Ephesians 5:8-10

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Monday Morning Simple Woman's Daybook

Outside my window...piles and piles of snow. I could be living in CT-- except they don't have as much snow as we do!!

I am thinking...it is time to get back out into the world after two months of hibernation. Between my knee injury and the snow, it's been easier to stay indoors and hide. But Joe's wedding is on the horizon (April 24) and I was going to be MUCH skinnier by the time it arrived. It's now or never. Tomorrow I will brave the leftover ice (yes, our street is STILL snow covered) and start taking Sasha out for her morning walks once again.

I am thankful for... my family. My sister and two nieces are here on a four day visit. They came for Ruth's baby shower. Margie's little granddaughter Ryli is here as well. She and Stephen are having fun getting acquainted and sharing toys. The house is upside down with gates and Cheerios everywhere you look. Wonderful bedlam.

I am remembering...I have a speaking engagement coming up as well as seven short devotionals due to The Secret Place magazine. And two weeks to get it together. Sigh.

I am going... to make a cherry pie today in honor of Presidents' Day. Adam and Ruth are coming to dinner, so we will have 10 at our table tonight!!

I am currently reading...Respectable Sins: Confronting the Sin We Tollerate by Jerry Bridges. An outstanding read.

Pondering these words... "But we all... are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit."

I keep thinking of a post written by Tim Webster a few days before his precious wife went to be with the Lord: "We want things now. Father, micowave us into being like Jesus. But discipleship doesn't happen overnight and often God forges His children into His image through the long and dark nights of the soul. We must trust His plan and also His timing! When the time is right, He will bring us out of our trial and we will look more like Him when He does.”

Helicopter Parenting

He had been a behavior problem since the beginning of the school year. Finally, after a particularly egregious act, his teacher gave a punishment meant to get his attention: one full week without recess. She wrote a note to the parents explaining their son's infraction and consequences, hoping for cooperation and support from the home front. She was to be disappointed. At lunch time the next day, the mother appeared at the classroom door. She took her son out for lunch and did not return him to school until recess was long over.

The little boy got the message loud and clear: no matter what he did, he could count on his parents to shield him from the consequences.

Believe it or not, this is a true story. This type of occurrence didn't happen frequently, but in my 20 year teaching career, I saw my share of overprotective parents. They were the ones who turned a deaf ear to anyone who dared to voice concerns about their child. At the first sign of trouble, they would rush to the child's aid, even going so far as to interfere with consequences the child faced. A term has been coined to identify this "hovering" behavior-Helicopter Parents.

They start out with the best of intentions. They want to protect their children from the pain they perhaps remember experiencing in their own youth. Their hope is to provide every opportunity for their child to experience only happiness and success.

Great intentions, but not especially wise. Pain and disappointment are tools God uses to mature us. Without them, we will be immature and incomplete (James 1:4).

Another portion of Scripture discourages the idea of helicopter parenting as well: Galatians 6. "Bear one another's burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ... for each one will bear his own load." The two Greek words, frequently translated as burden and load, sound similar in English. However, the original Greek words actually hold two separate connotations. A burden is almost always used in a negative sense, for something particularly oppressive and overwhelming. It is too much for one person to bear, which is why Paul encourages a sharing of the load. In this particular context, a brother has sinned and is looking to be restored. Falling back into that sin can be avoided through the active support of the Christian community. They are not helping him avoid consequences. They are helping him to avoid a repeat performance.

On the other hand, a load is most often used to describe a burden due to a duty or obligation. Christ assured his followers: "My yoke is easy and my load is light." Most responsibilities are meant to be borne by the individual. There was a real sense of individual responsibility in the New Testament church. Paul wrote the Ephesians that each one "must labor, performing with their hands what is good" (Ephesians 4:28).

There are oppressive burdens we need the support of others to overcome. But this does not release us from individual ongoing responsibility in responding correctly to our circumstances. If we release people from accountability, we create an opportunity for them to illegitimately view themselves as victims when negative consequences for their actions occur. This is unhealthy and can lead one down an ultimately destructive path.

The same is true in raising children. Yes, you are your child's advocate and protector. But be careful how quickly you come to their rescue. Stop and pray for wisdom before leaping to their defense. Allowing them to circumvent consequences may well be robbing them of an important life lesson. As C.S. Lewis once stated, "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world." Pain is an effective tool in God's capable hands. He uses it to teach us responsibility, perseverance, and to give us a healthy, realistic self-image. Most importantly, when we are in pain, we look to God, bringing our relationship with Him to ever-deepening, more intimate levels.

Pain isn't always bad. Sometimes it is just hard. And the truth is, hard is often quite good for us.

"God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." Hebrews 12:10-11

Quick Update

Very good news, everyone… apparently my injuries are not as severe as the doctor first thought. I will NOT have to have surgery after all!!! While the knee is not in great shape with severe arthritis and several ligament tears, the damage can be managed with therapy. The doctor switched me to a flexible knee brace and I begin therapy next week. What a wonderful relief. The Lord did some major healing during the past week. I can barely believe the difference.

Thanks to the many of you who prayed for me. Hopefully in 6 weeks' time, I will be back to normal.

Snow Fall (literally: A Fall in the Snow)

It was a snow for the record books. Measurable snow is rare enough in Maryland, but especially so in December. My daughter measured 23" as the last flakes fell. We were all thrilled and eagerly looked forward to a rare white Christmas.

The morning after the storm, I rose early to walk the dog. She had missed her walk the day before, because the roads were impassible. Now in the early morning light, Sasha and I managed to get down to the end of the driveway due to a heroic shoveling effort on Steve's part. Several cars had already navigated the road and there was a trail of packed snow to walk on. Sasha and I picked our way carefully down the street.

It was not an easy walk, but the dog seemed very relieved to be out and about. My gaze barely left the ground at the beginning. I soon became more confident as we got further and further from home. The air crackled with cold and smelled of snow. Everything in sight wore a covering of white. It was a beautiful morning.

As we neared the end of the park, suddenly my front foot began to slide. I struggled to remain upright to no avail. Down I went, in a less than ladylike manner, one leg straight out front, the other bent beneath me. As I slid toward the ground, I heard a *pop*pop*pop*pop* coming from my bent knee. I knew I had done some serious damage if the roaring pain was any indication. There I lay in the middle of the snowy road, immobilized. The dog, being the sensitive soul that she is (ha!) ran in circles around me, urging me to get up so that we could continue our walk.

This was not the first time I had injured my knee. After a series of injuries in my high school and college days, I had corrective surgery in 1983 to tighten ligaments and repair the damage to my kneecap. The therapy was excruciatingly difficult, especially working to get the bend back after being straight-legged in a cast for six weeks. Then we learned I was expecting Daniel. As the weeks wore on and Daniel's impending arrival became more and more evident, I ended up giving up on therapy a bit earlier than advisable. I never did get full bend back in the knee, although I was walking normally once more.

So the same knee bent under me in the fall had not actually been fully bent since 1983. Now as I lay in the snow, I was unsure that I could walk. Yet the prospect of continuing to lay in the freezing cold on the deserted road held little allure. It took some effort, but I managed to get myself into a standing position. Gingerly, I shifted my weight onto the bad leg. It held. I began the long hobble home.

After a laborious trip including two other-doggie sightings (at which Sasha demonstrated her usual frenzied reaction), we rounded the corner and sighted our house. Home never looked so good. Steve was still shoveling, so I called to him for assistance. He rushed to help me up the hill and into the house.

I made it to the couch and did not move for the rest of the day.

By Monday night, my lack of progress and continuing pain convinced me to see a doctor. He had me try to lift my leg. I could not make it move at all. It appears the tendon which attaches the quadriceps muscle to the kneecap is ruptured. He sent me for an MRI, and we have a second appointment on Tuesday to discuss surgery options. It is looking to be a long January.

So we had an unusual Christmas this year. I sat in the recliner, barking out orders in queenly fashion. My boys manned the kitchen and provided an excellent breakfast brunch for all of us. The whole family gathered around the tree and exchanged laughter, fun, and wonderful gifts.

I am learning how to accept being served. Harder than it sounds for this mom! My best friend Beth came over on Christmas Eve to vacuum and dust while the rest of the household was at church. Steve has faithfully made meal after meal and has served me without complaint. Each of my kids has run little errands for me, becoming my feet, traveling up and down the stairs and even out to the grocery store. I am eternally grateful for the sacrificial love they have all shown me over the past week. Even though I get frustrated with my lack of ability to do ANYTHING, my cup runneth over.

If you have made it this far on this lengthy and overly detailed account, thank you for your patience!! I'll update this blog when I meet with the doctor on Tuesday.