There is a deep desire in me to write about this "deeper life" as it is called, but the fear of being lumped in with the cultist and the extremist has held me back, but I need to write. I must write. I feel there is so much more than this surface Christianity most of us speak of and sadly most of us only experience. There's a relationship with God so deep, so spiritual, so awesome, words cannot describe it. A heart cannot fully contain it or it would explode. It's a deepness that stirs you deep down inside so that you cannot sit still, you want to dance as David did when the Ark finally reached Jerusalem. It's powerful beyond understanding.
I ponder this a lot. And sometimes I get so fired up. I'll be listening to one of my songs that says
"What if the armies of the Lord
Picked up and dusted off their sword
To finally set the captive free
And not let satan have one more
What if the Church for Heaven's sake
Finally stepped up to the plate
And took a stand upon God's promise
And stormed hell's rusty gates."
I'm ready to shout out " Yeah, satan you're goin' down!"
And then Emmy starts crying in the backseat and my mind suddenly switches gears. Oh how I long for the day that my faith is so deep seated in my soul that not even my child's cry can turn my mind or my focus.
And no I don't believe my children are an excuse for me. So many of you out of your loving, compassionate, kind, and big hearts have tried to comfort me by telling me that essentially my young children are an excuse for slowing down my work for Christ. But I believe if I were to pose the question to Christ he would tell me that if he thought I couldn't handle both jobs then he wouldn't have given me both jobs. When he was calling men to follow him, he gave not a single one an excuse...not even the man whose father had just died and needed to be buried. Why then do I need an excuse to remain behind because I have a few dirty diapers to change? The Master has given me talents and I don't know when he'll return so I must make haste, not excuses.
I feel my heart has been opened to this deeper life that so many of us misunderstand and so we write it off and become complacent with where we are. I know. I've been that person. As the song says " to label me a hypocrite would be only scratching the surface of who I've been known to be". But I don't believe this is all Christ died for. I believe we can do better than this. I believe there is so, so much more. It requires deeper love, deeper devotion, deeper prayer, deeper faith, and deeper exploration into God's word. Only then can we hold that deeper peace of the deeper life with God. The all consuming love of Christ. Nothing can compare.
And if we as a Community of Christians, not just individuals, help each other in seeking and finding this deeper life...I promise, the whole world will know....and want to know what we have that they don't.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Monday, March 19, 2007
Brook Besor from Facing Your Giants
It's been a long time since I written...I know, I know...I've been busy. But convincing myself that it is legitimate busyness and not just laziness has been the toughest issue for me. I guess you could say I have been very unforgiving of my lack of "doing" in the last few months. It's caused me to hide behind a wall of "I'm fine" and "Every thing's great" and "It's not that hard". I have felt that if I rest it is lazy....if I don't keep moving, I am failing. So yes over the last few months I have struggled...silently...I have wrestled with myself. I found myself needing to face my giants. Then I went to walmart and found this book on the shelf called Facing Your Giants by Max Lucado. It's the story of David's life and how it relates to ours today. I have found it very insightful in my struggles...obviously because I'm actually admitting to my struggles. But today I read a chapter called Plopping Points that really hit home with me and I wanted to share a portion of it with all of you. I think you will also find it very insightful.
"I recently saw a woman walking a dog on a leash. Change that. I saw a woman pulling a dog with a leash. That day was hot, brutally. The dog had stopped, totally. He'd plopped, belly down, in wet grass, swapping blistering pavement for a cool lawn.
The woman tugged and tugged. She'd have had more success pulling a parked semi.
The dog's get-up-and-go had got up and gone, so down he went.
He's not the last to do so. Have you ever reached your "plopping point"?
Blame it on your boss. " We need you to take on more case."
Your spouse. " I'll be out late one more night this week."
Your parents. "I have one more chore for you to do."
Your friend. " I need just one more favor."
The problem? You've handled, tolerated, done, forgiven, and taken until you don't have one more "one more" in you. You are one tired puppy. So down you plop. Who cares what the neighbors think. Who cares what the Master thinks. Let them yank the leash all they want; I ain't taking one more step.
But unlike the dog, you don't plop in the grass. If you are like David's men, you plop down at Brook Besor.
Don't feel bad if you've never heard of the place. Most haven't, but more need to. The Brook Besor narrative deserves shelf space in the library of the worn-out. It speaks tender words to the tired heart.
The story emerges from the ruins of Ziklag. David and his six hundred soldiers return from the Philistine war front to find utter devastation. A raiding band of Amalekites had swept down on the village, looted it, and taken the women and children hostage. The sorrow of the men mutates into anger, not against the Amalekites, but against David. After all, hadn't he led them into battle? Hadn't he left the women and children unprotected? Isn't he to blame? Then he needs to die. So they start grabbing stones.
What else is new? David is growing accustomed to such treatment. His family ignored him. Saul raged against him. And now David's army, which, if you remember, sought him out, not vice versa, has turned against him. David is a psycho in the making, rejected by every significant circle in his life. This could be his worst hour.
Be he makes it one of his best.
While six hundred men stoke their anger, David seeks his God. " But David strengthened himself in the Lord his God" (1 Sam 30:6).
How essential that we learn to do the same. Support systems don't always support. Friends aren't always friendly. Pastors can wander off base and churches get out of touch. When no one can help, we have to do what David does here. He turns toward God.
" Shall I go after these raiders? Can I catch them?"
" Go after them! Yes, you'll catch them! Yes, you'll make the rescue!" (30:8 MSG)
(I used to believe only saints could talk with God like this. I'm beginning to thing God will talk with anyone in such a fashion and saints are the ones who take him up on his offer.)
Freshly commissioned, David redirects the men's anger toward the enemy. They set out in pursuit of the Amalekites. Keep the men's weariness in mind. They still bear the trail dust of a long campaign and haven't entirely extinguished their anger at David. They don't know the Amalekites' hideout, and , if not for the sake of their loved ones, they might give up.
Indeed, two hundred do. The army reaches a brook called Besor, and they dismount. Soldiers wade in the creek and splash water on their faces, sink tired toes in cool mud, and stretch out on the grass. Hearing the command to move on , two hundred choose to rest. " You go on without us," they say.
How tired does a person have to be to abandon the hunt for his own family?
The church has its quorum of such folks. Good people. Godly people. Only hours or years ago they marched with deep resolve. But now fatigue consumes them. They're exhausted. So beat-up and worn down that they can't summon the strength to save their own flesh and blood. Old age has sucked their oxygen. Or maybe it was a deflating string of defeats. Divorce can leave you at the brook. Addiction can as well. Whatever the reason, the church has it's share of people who just sit and rest. And the church must decide. What do we do with the Brook Besor people? Berate them? Shame them? Give them a rest but measure the minutes? Or do we do what David did? David let them stay.
He and the remaining four hundred fighters resume the chase...
Don't do that after what the Lord has given us. He has protected us and given us the enemy who attacked us. Who will listen to what you say? The share will be the same for the one who stayed with the supplies as for the one who went into battle. All will share alike ( 30:23-24 NCV)
Note David's words: they "stayed with the supplies," as if this had been their job. They hadn't asked to guard supplies; they wanted to rest. But David dignifies their decision to stay.
David did many might deeds in his life. He did many foolish deeds in his life. But perhaps the noblest was this rarely discussed deed: he honored the tired soldiers at Brook Besor.
...How many sit at the Brook Besor? If you are listed among them, here is what you need to know: it's okay to rest. Jesus is your David. He fights when you cannot. He goes where you cannot. He's not angry if you sit...
...Brook Besor also cautions against arrogance. David knew the victory was a gift. Let's remember the same. Salvation comes like the Egyptian in the desert, a delightful surprise on the path. Unearned. Undeserved. Who are the strong to criticize the tired?
Are you weary? Catch your breath, We need your strength.
Are you strong? Reserve passing judgment on the tired. Odds are, you'll need to plop down yourself. And when you do, Brook Besor is a good story to know.
"I recently saw a woman walking a dog on a leash. Change that. I saw a woman pulling a dog with a leash. That day was hot, brutally. The dog had stopped, totally. He'd plopped, belly down, in wet grass, swapping blistering pavement for a cool lawn.
The woman tugged and tugged. She'd have had more success pulling a parked semi.
The dog's get-up-and-go had got up and gone, so down he went.
He's not the last to do so. Have you ever reached your "plopping point"?
Blame it on your boss. " We need you to take on more case."
Your spouse. " I'll be out late one more night this week."
Your parents. "I have one more chore for you to do."
Your friend. " I need just one more favor."
The problem? You've handled, tolerated, done, forgiven, and taken until you don't have one more "one more" in you. You are one tired puppy. So down you plop. Who cares what the neighbors think. Who cares what the Master thinks. Let them yank the leash all they want; I ain't taking one more step.
But unlike the dog, you don't plop in the grass. If you are like David's men, you plop down at Brook Besor.
Don't feel bad if you've never heard of the place. Most haven't, but more need to. The Brook Besor narrative deserves shelf space in the library of the worn-out. It speaks tender words to the tired heart.
The story emerges from the ruins of Ziklag. David and his six hundred soldiers return from the Philistine war front to find utter devastation. A raiding band of Amalekites had swept down on the village, looted it, and taken the women and children hostage. The sorrow of the men mutates into anger, not against the Amalekites, but against David. After all, hadn't he led them into battle? Hadn't he left the women and children unprotected? Isn't he to blame? Then he needs to die. So they start grabbing stones.
What else is new? David is growing accustomed to such treatment. His family ignored him. Saul raged against him. And now David's army, which, if you remember, sought him out, not vice versa, has turned against him. David is a psycho in the making, rejected by every significant circle in his life. This could be his worst hour.
Be he makes it one of his best.
While six hundred men stoke their anger, David seeks his God. " But David strengthened himself in the Lord his God" (1 Sam 30:6).
How essential that we learn to do the same. Support systems don't always support. Friends aren't always friendly. Pastors can wander off base and churches get out of touch. When no one can help, we have to do what David does here. He turns toward God.
" Shall I go after these raiders? Can I catch them?"
" Go after them! Yes, you'll catch them! Yes, you'll make the rescue!" (30:8 MSG)
(I used to believe only saints could talk with God like this. I'm beginning to thing God will talk with anyone in such a fashion and saints are the ones who take him up on his offer.)
Freshly commissioned, David redirects the men's anger toward the enemy. They set out in pursuit of the Amalekites. Keep the men's weariness in mind. They still bear the trail dust of a long campaign and haven't entirely extinguished their anger at David. They don't know the Amalekites' hideout, and , if not for the sake of their loved ones, they might give up.
Indeed, two hundred do. The army reaches a brook called Besor, and they dismount. Soldiers wade in the creek and splash water on their faces, sink tired toes in cool mud, and stretch out on the grass. Hearing the command to move on , two hundred choose to rest. " You go on without us," they say.
How tired does a person have to be to abandon the hunt for his own family?
The church has its quorum of such folks. Good people. Godly people. Only hours or years ago they marched with deep resolve. But now fatigue consumes them. They're exhausted. So beat-up and worn down that they can't summon the strength to save their own flesh and blood. Old age has sucked their oxygen. Or maybe it was a deflating string of defeats. Divorce can leave you at the brook. Addiction can as well. Whatever the reason, the church has it's share of people who just sit and rest. And the church must decide. What do we do with the Brook Besor people? Berate them? Shame them? Give them a rest but measure the minutes? Or do we do what David did? David let them stay.
He and the remaining four hundred fighters resume the chase...
Don't do that after what the Lord has given us. He has protected us and given us the enemy who attacked us. Who will listen to what you say? The share will be the same for the one who stayed with the supplies as for the one who went into battle. All will share alike ( 30:23-24 NCV)
Note David's words: they "stayed with the supplies," as if this had been their job. They hadn't asked to guard supplies; they wanted to rest. But David dignifies their decision to stay.
David did many might deeds in his life. He did many foolish deeds in his life. But perhaps the noblest was this rarely discussed deed: he honored the tired soldiers at Brook Besor.
...How many sit at the Brook Besor? If you are listed among them, here is what you need to know: it's okay to rest. Jesus is your David. He fights when you cannot. He goes where you cannot. He's not angry if you sit...
...Brook Besor also cautions against arrogance. David knew the victory was a gift. Let's remember the same. Salvation comes like the Egyptian in the desert, a delightful surprise on the path. Unearned. Undeserved. Who are the strong to criticize the tired?
Are you weary? Catch your breath, We need your strength.
Are you strong? Reserve passing judgment on the tired. Odds are, you'll need to plop down yourself. And when you do, Brook Besor is a good story to know.
Under the shadow of the steeple
This comes from a line from a song by one of my favorite groups Casting Crowns. The song is called " Does Anybody Hear Her" and in the chorus goes
Does anybody hear her
Can anybody see
Does anybody even know she's going down today
Under the shadow of our steeple
With all the lost and lonely people
Searching for the hope that's tucked away in you and me
From that song I picture this girl about 19 whose like I used to be...a person who made all the wrong decisions... a girl who was "running a hundred miles an hour in the wrong direction". She's too ashamed to enter the church and too afraid to walk away so she stands there with the other lost souls who feel the same in the shadows.
I don't identify myself with the meaning of the song as much as I do that picture of the girl standing there.....but for different reasons. I stand under the shadow of the steeple as it represents "tradition"...as in the "traditional church" that I grew up in. I stand in the shadow of that tradition....not quiet traditional, not quiet modernized.....too afraid to stay, too afraid too leave. I stand outside that tradition because I don't belong there...I don't believe anyone really does....that church is not like the 1st century church was and therefore it is not true tradition...it is a charade...but I don't yet know where I'm going outside of that shadow yet either so I don't move. And sometimes that shadow prohibits me from doing more than I do, but one day I know I will move....
But for now, I will write my "blogs" from the under the steeple. I will talk with people who go in that church, people who scoff at that church, people who don't' even notice that church, and the people who stand in the shadows with me because of the "lofty glances from lofty people". I'll watch the people laugh and hug, the people cry and fight....the people jump off bridges near by and kiss on park benches down the walk. And I'll wait.....I'll wait til God says it's time to move...and then..................................................then I'll move on.
Does anybody hear her
Can anybody see
Does anybody even know she's going down today
Under the shadow of our steeple
With all the lost and lonely people
Searching for the hope that's tucked away in you and me
From that song I picture this girl about 19 whose like I used to be...a person who made all the wrong decisions... a girl who was "running a hundred miles an hour in the wrong direction". She's too ashamed to enter the church and too afraid to walk away so she stands there with the other lost souls who feel the same in the shadows.
I don't identify myself with the meaning of the song as much as I do that picture of the girl standing there.....but for different reasons. I stand under the shadow of the steeple as it represents "tradition"...as in the "traditional church" that I grew up in. I stand in the shadow of that tradition....not quiet traditional, not quiet modernized.....too afraid to stay, too afraid too leave. I stand outside that tradition because I don't belong there...I don't believe anyone really does....that church is not like the 1st century church was and therefore it is not true tradition...it is a charade...but I don't yet know where I'm going outside of that shadow yet either so I don't move. And sometimes that shadow prohibits me from doing more than I do, but one day I know I will move....
But for now, I will write my "blogs" from the under the steeple. I will talk with people who go in that church, people who scoff at that church, people who don't' even notice that church, and the people who stand in the shadows with me because of the "lofty glances from lofty people". I'll watch the people laugh and hug, the people cry and fight....the people jump off bridges near by and kiss on park benches down the walk. And I'll wait.....I'll wait til God says it's time to move...and then..................................................then I'll move on.
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