Shifting Gears

Courtesy NY Daily News

Still taking a break from Facebook, mostly because I want to still love everyone I know once the election is over.  I have gotten back on Twitter, because without cable, it’s my news source. But even that I’m taking in small doses.

I have shifted modes, though. The damage on the eastern seaboard and the storms plaguing 20% of the American population are heavy on my mind. It has forced a perspective shift. So I am no longer praying for the election or worrying about the outcome. I prayed for months before I voted about who to vote for, and I know that the Lord is in control.

No man in the White House has the power to save us or condemn us, and no matter who wins, our country has survived worse.

I am praying for the people in our land, and in the lands around us also hit by the storms. For those who have lost loved ones, for the thousands displaced from their homes and their businesses, for the millions of people without power on this cold night and the cold nights coming with the next storm hitting in days. For the relief workers, local government leaders, and first responders who are exhausted. For the millions of people processing the events of the past week – for their PTSD-affected minds and hearts. Jesus be near and give peace. We need the voice that said “Peace, be still” to the waves, and the waves obeyed, to speak in might and power and shift this newest storm away from these hurting people.

I am also praying for our country after the election. For peace in our land. For the side that loses to respect and honor the leader the Lord has allowed to be at the head of our country. For protection for our next president. For whoever wins to lead with honor and wisdom. For the voices of division and hatred to be silenced. For the next president to humble himself in the sight of the Lord, so that He may lift them up. I believe that neither of them is too far gone for the Lord to draw to Himself, and that is what I am praying for, in faith. The weight of a nation is too big for any man – and I am praying whoever wins would take that weight to the one Power strong enough to carry it.

I’m shifting gears. I’m praying hard. I’m believing for good. And I hope you’ll join me.

Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
    and he brought them out of their distress.
He stilled the storm to a whisper;
    the waves of the sea were hushed.
They were glad when it grew calm,
    and he guided them to their desired haven.
Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love
    and his wonderful deeds for mankind. Psalm 107:28-31

I am Yours, I am forever Yours

It’s hard to know how to follow the last blog I wrote, The Battle for Adoptive Families. That blog was a gift from the Lord that really went a little crazy. It was far and away the most shared and most read thing I’ve ever written, and I love it because it was something really dear to my heart – a call to pray for our friends who are struggling as they obey Christ. Of all the things I have written, to have that blog be so well-received by so many was a mountaintop experience I will not soon forget.

We have had quite a week since that blog. Some bizarre health struggles, a ton of uncertainty, sickness throughout our family, people we love going through major struggles, and extended family members fighting for their lives in hospitals far away. Justin and I just keep finding ourselves curled up, praying together, asking for mercy and wisdom and peace. We have had to choose to trust over and over and over this week, wanting to live out Psalm 56:3, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.” It has been a HEAVY week, kind of a valley after the mountaintop experience of last week.

But the Lord has been so faithful. He has given mercy, He has provided, He has given small blessings in the middle of these trials that let us know He is near and He hears us. Today His mercy came in a song, dropped on us at just the right time (Justin had actually been arranging this song for our church Sunday night before we knew the week we would face).

Here are the lyrics:

If my heart is overwhelmed and I cannot hear Your voice
I’ll hold on to what is true though I cannot see
If the storms of life they come and the road ahead gets steep
I will lift these hands in faith
I will believe

I remind myself of all that You’ve done
And the life I have because Your Son

Love came down and rescued me
Love came down and set me free
I am Yours I am forever Yours
Mountain high or valley low
I sing out remind my soul
That I am Yours I am forever Yours

When my heart is filled with hope
and every promise comes my way
When I feel Your hands of grace rest upon me

Staying desperate for You God
Staying humbled at Your feet
I will lift these hands and praise
I will believe

I remind myself of all that You’ve done
And the life I have because Your Son

Love came down and rescued me
Love came down and set me free
I am Yours I am forever Yours
Mountain high or valley low
I sing out remind my soul
That I am Yours I am forever Yours

I am Yours
I am Yours
All my days
I am Yours

I am Yours, I’m Yours forever
I am Yours, I’m Yours forever
I am Yours, I’m Yours forever Lord

Love came down and rescued me
Love came down and set me free
I am Yours I am forever Yours
Mountain high or valley low
I sing out remind my soul
That I am Yours I am forever Yours

I wish I was clever enough to have figured out the mountaintop and valley illustration, so perfectly lined up in the song and lived out in my week, for this blog. But truthfully I had this written before I realized the song had that line in it. Time and time again this blog has been a place where the Lord speaks to me as I type – and again tonight it happened. But why would He speak to me? Because I am His. Mountain high or valley low, I sing out, remind my soul, that I am Yours, Jesus, I am forever Yours. 

The Smoke That Surrounds

How many of you saw the movie The Ten Commandments?

Remember this scene? It is permanently etched in my psyche.  This is the ‘angel of death’ creeping through Egypt, the last of the plagues that God sent to Egypt because Pharoah would not let the Israelites free from their captivity (the story is in Exodus 7-12).  The Lord had given Pharoah multiple chances to release His people and honor God, but Pharoah hardened his heart and refused. In the end, the Lord hardened Pharoah’s heart, and one night, at midnight, the  Lord passed through Egypt – exacting judgment and justice and killing the firstborn of every household in Egypt.

Every household, that is, except the ones where a lamb had been sacrificed, and the blood of the lamb spread on the doorframe.  Those houses, the Lord passed over and those people were allowed to live through the night – unharmed.

So why this strange memory from my childhood? This week, in the world around me, I have been very aware of the creeping sin and evil that flows through our world like the smoke in that scene. I have been aware of it in things I’ve read. I have been aware of it in conversations I’ve had. I’ve been aware of it in the thoughts and secret desires of my own heart.

It started with the execution of Bin Ladin, and the multitude of emotions each of us Christ-followers felt. I kept thinking about him, even the pictures of him on websites was jarring. In my mind – he was the face of evil. He personified the smoke in that picture – filled with it. But then I saw fights and anger on Facebook – sides taken in righteous (and unrighteous) indignation.  I waded in myself – fighting with brothers and sisters – confident that my way of thought was more right than others.

And then I saw the smoke in myself. The persistent evil. The desire to be right – more right than another. It was like, for a moment, I saw the smoke, the darkness, the evil, creeping all around us, all around me. I saw the world shrouded in it – I saw myself shrouded in it.  And I knew the smoke led to death.

But then I remembered the blood.  And I felt overwhelmingly grateful.

I’m a really practical person. I’ve believed in Christ since I was a tiny child, and I’ll be the first to tell you sometimes I am unmoved by His sacrifice.  It’s been a worry to me – I’ve felt cold about it and wondered what it meant about my heart.  To me, the rational one, it made sense. One ‘person’s’ life for millions. I’d be grateful to Jesus for His sacrifice, but not overwhelmed by it.  I’ve never been the person who cries on Good Friday, despite my attempts (and yes – I have attempted – I’m that person).

But this week I got a glimpse of just how rotten we all are.  Of how rotten I am.  Of just how insidious that smoke can be, filling our world.  It creeps into every crevice, doesn’t it? And then I thought how separate and holy Jesus is – how pure and spotless and free of sin, death, pride, or filth.  There is no smoke in Him. I got a glimpse of how demeaning it would have been for a flawless, perfect God to step into that rot and be humiliated and killed by the very people He gave up heaven to save.

He died for us all – and because of His death, we who have chosen to know Him and follow Him have blood covering over our heart, covering over our sin. That blood keeps the smoke from taking us into the death we fully deserve. We escape judgment and justice, not because of our righteousness, but because of His blood.  And He is even so good that He doesn’t leave us alone to navigate this smoke-filled world alone until we get to heaven. He chooses to live in our broken, sinful, proud, self-righteous bodies and share the space with us in our humanity, to lead us through life, comforting and interceding and loving us even in our ugliest moments.

That is an amazing God. That moves me. And I’m grateful for the glimpse the Lord gave me of the smoke in myself. I needed to see it – to remember that I am not that far from the terrorist killed this week, except for the grace of our wonderful God.

(By the way, our former Pastor, Brandon Thomas, wrote a GREAT blog about Bin Ladin and another terrorist saved by grace.  If you have a moment, check it out.)