BATTLE HYMN

For God is not a God of disorder but of peace. I Corinthians 14:33 NIV

Once again, Tuesday's come and gone, and I’m late with my post. Anyone notice?

I live with a clutterbug. As a result, things fall through the cracks of remembering all I’m trying to remember to remember. Nothing in my life is organized long enough to accomplish what needs accomplishing.

Not even my prayer life.

Anybody see War Room?

I have spaces that could double function, but no space to dedicate to a war room. Forget the house. No place but the linen closet, the one place I refuse to allow any clutter. (I have to have at least one door I can open and see neatness and order.)

And you can’t have sticky notes tacked to a tree or hung on the fence out in the weather.

That leaves my creative solitude cottage. No dedicated space—but how about a dedicated time in an uncluttered, semi-dedicated, semi-private space? Just leave my writing stuff in the house and march off to war singing the battle hymn of the Kingdom.

Hmm, I haven’t used the magnetic whiteboards up there for the writing tasks I bought them for…

OK, so I bought cards, felt markers, magnets. And there—two white boards—is my war room! I can write pertinent Scriptures on cards and post them across the top, then fill the rest of the boards with prayer requests and praises. For my husband, a good wife and a closer walk with Jesus. For friends and family, various needs. For the policemen and firemen I run into, wisdom and safety. For our minister, a heart for God, faithfulness to Scripture, and the right words and tone to reach the people. For the congregation, an open heart, an open mind. For myself, and for all my co-writers, organization and focus and productivity. For all, seeking God’s will, projecting His good name.

Avi, help me to be true to You, to listen for Your voice in everything, at every moment. Help me to use my time and talents wisely. Help me to love You with all I am. In Your holy name, Amen.  

WHO, ME?

If we are faithless, He will remain faithful, for He cannot disown Himself.                                                   II Timothy 2:13NIV

I’m back to that old Rusty Goodman song, “Who am I that a King should die for me?”

I got that part. It’s because I’m His child, and He’s my Father. Dying for me was an act of love, and love is who this King is (among other things). Love is what He does.

I got the part about Him. The part I have trouble with is the part that has to do with me. Why did He choose me out of all this great orphanage called Earth? I’m not the prettiest, or the smartest, or the most capable, or the most patient. I’m not the cuddliest, or the funniest, or the most charismatic. I’m not the most talented or the hardest worker. Sometimes I’m not the cleanest. (I’m an outdoor, girl, remember.)

Why me?

Avi, I get it, but I don’t get it. Maybe this is one of those things I don’t have to understand. That’s OK—but I still want to understand because I want to know You more. In Your holy name, Amen.

 

BRIDETEARS

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. Revelation 21:4 NIV

No bad stuff, ever again. No tears of pain or grief or fear. No tears of exhaustion or frustration or disappointment.

But what about happy tears, good tears, delicious tears?

We got a new granddaughter this weekend. Not the infant kind. The in-law kind.

Wedding in a barn, performed between rainy showers of blessings. Guys—except for the preacher—in blue jeans and cowboy boots, gals better dressed. Eight-month-old flower girl in a dressed-up wagon pulled by a bigger flower girl. Bride in a standard, floor length wedding gown. (And, no, I didn’t get to see if she had cowboy boots on under there.)

Happy tears, weary tears. The bride couldn’t hold them in. She’s been running on anticipation and emotion for months, for weeks, for these final days of preparation. Then, a wakeful night before the wedding. A tearful mixture of exhaustion and joy.

As the old song tells, “No tears in Heaven fair, no tears, no tears up there.”

But what about good tears, happy tears, delicious tears? Soon, dressed in white, we will walk down the aisle of Heaven at the wedding of the Lamb and His church. Will we be allowed tears of joy when we see the smiling face of our Groom?

Avi, with You a day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years are as a day—but to our finite, time-bound minds, the wait sometimes seems endless. I’ve heard that the best way to kill time is to work it to death. There’s much left to do in these harvest fields. Help us to keep our focus. Help us to be faithful workers until the end. In Your holy name, Amen.

REFUGE

Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.              John 6:68,69 NIV

Ever want to run away from home? Take a sabbatical? A vacation? Even a staycation, if you can send everyone else off on the real thing?

A private writer’s retreat? Buy a tent and head for the wilderness? No electricity. Anybody invent a solar power source for my laptop yet? 

A lunatic asylum? Check into writers’ rehab? Nah. Doubt they’d let me bring my dogs.

Library study room? An empty room at church when nobody else is there? Again, no dogs allowed. How can I write without my little canine encouragers and crit buddies?

That’s why I invested a goodly portion of my little pension account to build my creative solitude cottage—but even that isn’t 100% distraction proof.

No place in this world, however homey and fitting it feels, is a true and lasting refuge without Him who is our refuge.

Remember this old Southern Gospel song?

 

Where could I go, oh, where could I go,            

Needing a refuge for my soul?

Needing a friend to save me in the end,

Where could I go but to the Lord?

 

Where, indeed?

This broken world is full of wondrous beauties, Avi, but You said it hasn’t even entered the mind of man what You’re preparing for us. I look forward to exploring that perfect home with You. How much more the chance to explore You, to learn more of who You are and what You are. But must I wait? Give me more of You even now, Avi.

ECHOES

And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. John 14:3 NIV

That ‘you’ is plural. Jesus is preparing a home for all His kids. A perfect home for perfect children.

But first, the journey.

I’ve never been good at maintaining long distance friendships—but that doesn’t mean ‘out of sight, out of mind’.

Where are they now, those who shared my journey down this river called Time? Reeves, Helen, Martha, Bill, Beth, Eddie, Hal, Anna, Ralph . . .

Riding down the river together, some boats floating near enough to touch, others within shouting distance. Some are with me for a short time, some longer. Whether we steer our craft skillfully or drift aimlessly, for a time we’re in the same current, bound by shared friends, by common interests and responsibilities.

Then one is caught in an eddy. Another is tangled in the branches of a fallen tree and is left behind. Still another is carried in a different direction as the river splits around an obstacle.  

Where are they now, those voices from the past? What currents have they mastered—or been mastered by? Are their boats still seaworthy? What scenery have they seen? What new companions have enriched their journeys? Who sailed on into wide oceans of blessing? Who rode the rapids of adventure? Who glided gently into a still, small pond? Who plunged over a waterfall? Who drifted into the swamps of dementia?

Who has made it Home already?

I don’t know.

But I do know where those who belong to the Master of all waters will soon be. Journey done, we will be together again, in the Home He’s preparing for us.

And the others? There’s still prayer.  

Avi, thank You for all the hellos, for all the ‘sit-and-stay-awhiles’, all the ‘see-you-laters’, and even for all the goodbyes. Thank You for the glorious anticipation of that homecoming reunion. And, thank You for the hope that still remains for those who haven’t yet found You. Please wait a little longer for them, Avi. In Your holy name, Amen.