Jesus weeps

Sophie, her little cookie baking guest, (I'll call her Lucy,) and I, all looked up in surprise as lightning flashed through the kitchen yesterday afternoon. We had about 15 seconds to wonder "what was that," when the confirming crash of thunder pealed in the distance. It was raining cats and dogs.

Lucy was playing at our house while her parents visited the OB/GYN with hopeful expectations of hearing a new tiny heartbeat, and beginning the amazing family journey of bringing forth new life. Those hopes were dashed. As the first batch of chocolate chip cookies were placed in the oven, Lucy's parents returned, and with a shake of her head, Mom relayed the painful news.

Rain poured down.

People often talk about the weather when they don't know what to say, and after, "I'm so sorry," this was me,.... silent. But it did feel like the dreary darkened day spoke significance, so I ventured, aloud, a comparison of the mood with the weather. Right away Lucy's dad agreed, "Whenever something terrible happens in our lives, it always rains." "People don't believe us," he added, "but it's true. So when we walked out the the office to this downpour, we weren't surprised."

This reminded me of an experience I had a while back; I shared with my friends.

Sitting in my car, in a coffee shop parking lot, in the dark of predawn, waiting for the rain to die down, I cried to the GOD who loves me. Struggling with depression, I spoke out my sorrow, through tears. "I haven't heard YOUR voice in so long, and YOU know how important that is to me." I implored, "How can I keep going on if we don't communicate. I feel so alone."

At that moment, above the white noise of pounding rain, though soft and quiet and as gentle as it was clear, I heard GOD speak. "I'm here with you now, we are sitting here in your car, having a good cry." I watched the streams of water flow down my windshield like HIS tears washing all around me. HE knows, I thought. HE knows me to the depths. GOD weeps for me, for us.

"That's powerful," replied my grieving friends. I hoped it helped.

As Jesus hung on the cross, it didn't seem trivial for the gospel writers to describe how the sky turned black; surely the weather on that day reflected GOD's mood. And one of my favorite depictions of GOD, "angry" at HIS enemies (and, consequently, OUR enemies) comes from Psalm 18:

The earth trembled and quaked,

and the foundation tofhe mountains shook;

they trembled because HE was angry.

smoke rose from HIS nostrils;

consuming fire came from his mouth,

burning coals blazed out of it.

HE parted the heavens and came down;

dark clouds were under his feet.

HE mounted the cherubim and flew;

HE soared on the wings of the wind.

HE made darkness his covering, his canopy around him-

the dark rain clouds of the sky.

Out of the brightness of his presence clouds advanced,

the LORD thundered from heaven;

with hailstones and bolts of lightning.

The voice of the MOST HIGH resounded.

HE shot HIS arrows and scattered the enemies,

great bolts of lightning, and routed them.....

He reached down from on high and took hold of me;

HE drew me out of deep waters.

HE rescued me from my powerful enemy,

from my foes, who were too strong for me.

They confronted me in the day of my disaster,

but the LORD was my support.

HE brought me out into a spacious place;

HE rescued me because HE delighted in me..."

I believe in, and LOVE with all my heart, a GOD who doesn't always get HIS way on this earth, nor in what HE created - but IS IN CONTROL. A GOD who steps down and routs the enemies of our soul, while showing HIS terribly awesome power in the heavens, empathizing with the storm HE SEES in our hearts.

I believe HE shows us HIS compassion in this way. "Subjective and coincidental" one may say, about claiming to hear the LORD speak through thunder clouds and rain. When it comes to hearing GOD's voice, believing is seeing. Sometimes a person has to step through C.S. Lewis' spiritual "wardrobe" to experience "Narnia," where the creatures, the trees and even the wind do Aslan's bidding. Next time you wake in the night to driving rain and claps of thunder, take a moment to consider that JESUS weeps.

Metaphor from a "Monster Bike"

Mid-March in the high 70s inspired the first bike ride of the season; Kevin and Kyria set out on a 10 mile, with Mom, Annika and Sophie pedaling along for moral support. I usually try to pull up the rear, keeping a gage on how all are doing, but for 3 miles, Annika couldn't seem to stay ahead of me and I just couldn't idle slow enough. At the speed of the runners, the pace wasn't challenging, so I wondered at the pained look on poor Anni's face. Surely this kid was in better shape than her mom, yet she just couldn't keep up. At the City Market, our first water stop, I convinced her sister, Sophie, to switch bikes with her, suspicious that her mount was the problem. Annika needed a break.

1/2 a mile later, with Annika happily zipping along, but Sophie lagging sorely behind, a contorted frown swept across her face, I offered to ride the "monster." I imagined some difficulty, since the bike is a bit on the small side for my frame, but I was in for an unexpected amount of excruciating exercise! The next mile felt like pumping my pedals through murky mud up to my knees.

I tried different gears; even on the down-hills, the monster bike wouldn't even coast; it just slowed to a stop. As I sweated and strained, resolving to just hang out with the rhinos at the Zoo till Kev could pick me up with the car, I noticed the front wheel. I'd been working so hard, standing up most of the way, I hadn't noticed the rubber breaks pinching tight against the front tire, rendering regular resistance and a real pain in my posterior.

At the Zoo, Dad made a quick adjustment to the bothersome breaks, releasing the friction. A game of musical bikes, then, returned us all to our appropriate mounts. We were off. Everyone happily rolling along. Oh the difference properly working equipment makes.

During my one mile workout against the breaks, and for the remainder of the pleasant ride after Kevin released them, I reflected on how this experience parallels and illustrates the effects of spiritual oppression in day to day life. What should be fun and easy, the "coasting" aspects of life happenings, like family movie nights or vacation get aways, are endured with a plastic smiles, a manufactured laughs but an invisible ache inside.

The flat stretches of road, which should require little effort and offer pleasant views along the way, ie: going through the day to day necessities of keeping house, preparing meals, sending birthday cards, becomes, instead, a grueling exercise. Focus and concentration are needed to simply put one foot in front of the other, trying to not look any farther ahead than the task immediately at hand, for fear of breaking down. You pray and hope yourself to the end of the day, when you can tell yourself "I've survived! - 16 hours closer to heaven." - THIS depicts the flatlands.

And the most discouraging part of the analogy are the uphill inclines! When one of your children pitches a fit, when a relational challenge with a friend stares you in the face, when a scheduling mistake leaves you scrambling to present an apology as well as a solution, then, you are suddenly exhausted and overwhelmed. Immobile with indecision and a feeling of defeat, even before you begin, the gentle incline or bump in the road looms before you as if it were a 14,000 footer breathing down your neck, declaring "you'll never make it; don't even try."

The monster bike metaphor, fortunately, DOES end with HOPE! Spiritual oppression, like dragging breaks, can be alleviated through prayers of deliverance and inner healing. I've experienced this first hand on many occasions. I've, in an instant, felt suffocating heaviness lift from my shoulders and heart. I've seen a brightening in my vision I can only liken to what I might experience if I had been wearing dark green eyeglasses, tinted with pessimism, for months, and then, on a beautiful spring morning someone took them off. Situations and people all looked new and different, less threatening. Best of all, the fruit of these freeing prayers have remained - tangible, teachable and life-changing.

You may, like me, ask WHY am I - a JESUS-loving, trying-to-live-a-godly-life kinda gal like myself even susceptible to Spiritual Oppression in the first place?? You may have noticed I mentioned experiencing deliverance and inner healing on MANY occasions. Well.... sigh... I guess the humble answer is: I'm flesh, made of dust.

"The LORD works righteousness and justice for all the oppressed.,"

Psalm 103:6 assures us, "As a father has compassion on his children,

so the LORD has compassion on those who fear HIM.

for HE knows how we are formed, HE remembers that we are dust...."

A friend, with whom I shared my monster bike metaphor, reminded me that this process of repeatedly releasing the "breaks," of oppression, characterizes the life with JESUS. Oppressive thoughts and attitudes, deceptive defenses which don't really defend, and the residue of hurtful experiences and sinful reactions, from our conception to present, ALL work against us - towards bondage. Our enemy, the devil, also finds plenty of fodder for foiling a victorious life with GOD in all this baggage we drag along our bike path.

I highly recommend a full, out-loud reading of Psalm 103, for anyone who's been stirred by this metaphor and subject. Also, Psalm 129 offers hope.

"They have greatly oppressed me from my youth,

but they have NOT gained victory over me.....

the LORD is righteous; HE has cut me free from the cords of the wicked...."

May the blessing of the LORD be on you, readers and may your wheels roll happily along!

The Eccentricities of HIS voice

On a "spring ahead - lose-an-hour-Sunday morning," I wanted to crock-pot a roast with veggies for after church guests, leave the house in decent order, arrive early enough to package the benevolence bread (6 garbage bags full) and appear in the prayer room for pre-service prayer by 9 a.m. Thankfully, along life's way, I have birthed a small army (four great kids) to help me in all my endeavors. In the prayer room, when Kent asked me if I had any "prayer leadings" or "senses" that morning, I was embarrassed to say, I hadn't yet prayed much at all. But as 7 of us gathered for that hour btw. 9 and 10a.m., GOD came, with the awesome peace and electricity of HIS presence, and spoke in an eccentric language of connections, which we are beginning to understand.

In his teaching on The Gift of Prophecy last week, Nathaniel explained how GOD speaks to each one of us in a language especially personally and understandable. Knowing how we individually operate, what we think about and dwell on, HOLY SPIRIT (I use these three, GOD, JESUS and HS, interchangebly, understanding them as one and the same) - can interject thoughts into our mind right before we read a highway billboard, give someone else a significant picture from our childhood to share with us, just as HE is reminding us about a truth that corresponds to the image, cause a car to hover in front of ours until we notice the "PS37 18" licence plate in front of us, commit to looking it up to find the Biblical verse directly answering the cry of our heart just minutes before. All three of these examples have actually happened to me over the years, strengthening my non-belief in coincidence.

Sunday morning, again, left me smiling with gratitude that we are not left alone in prayer, to praise and petition a silent or distant God who refuses to reciprocate our communication. In reality, HE initiates - GOD put thoughts in our minds and hearts as we began to listen that morning. After waiting in silence, several people asked GOD to give us eyes to see the needs of HIS children and to see what HE was doing in their hearts. During the waiting, I had seen a picture, in my mind, of two eyes on the same face, but looking in opposite directions - out to either side. Then, in my mind's image, hands came and turned the eyes back to front facing, training them straight ahead. This repeated again and again. Then I saw those black patches by the eyes, the kind they put on horses so they don't get spooked by bicycles and such. As I saw this vision during the silent listening time, I felt GOD was wanting me to ask HIM to focus and train our eyes away from ourselves and our circumstances, and look to HIM only - HIS Glory, HIS Presence, HIS Peace.

So, as others began to pray for EYES to see, I rejoiced to join them, and felt that in this theme, GOD was leading. One man, arriving late, spoke up in prayer, rather tentatively. "Lord, I am hearing some things this morning that seem a bit strange, but, out of obedience, I will speak them out - Give Kevin (our pastor) a servant's heart and a shepherd's voice this morning" I confirmed later that this man had no idea that the theme of Kevin's sermon was "the gift of Pastors - the servant shepherd."

After his sermon, Kevin's practice has become, taking a few minutes of silence to listen for Holy Spirit's direction in ministry. During this time, GOD spoke to Matt, who had not been with us in the pre-service prayer. He shared that he believed the the LORD wanted to speak to us about our EYES; He wanted to show us where and to whom He is ministering so we can move with Him. I spoke up then, too, encouraging him in his "hearing;" thematically, this was surely something GOD wanted to speak to his "sheep" that morning.

I know JESUS was at work in many people that morning, speaking personal words of encouragement in our individual "languages," but I'll mention just one more, as it's a first hand account. During the sermon Kevin had shared a personal story about his time as a camp counselor back in college, at which time he thought "This is what I was made for" - shepherding people. That phrase jumped out at me, as Kevin spoke it, and I had the sense that GOD wanted to minister to someone in the room for which that statement caused a "stir" in their spirit. So I had written in down and circled it, so I didn't forget to share it later. After the listening time I did share what I felt GOD was saying for someone, and then, as Kevin and I were waiting at the front for anyone who wanted prayer, a man approached us. He confirmed that all I had spoken was exactly what he was thinking and feeling, when Kevin shared his story and "this is what I was made for.." phrase. GOD continued to encourage this friend, as we prayed for him, giving us pictures and words that spoke to his heart.

It strikes me that THIS is what we were all made for, to be in relationship with the ONE who created us, to help each other understand the eccentricities of HIS voice to see what HE sees and partner with HIM in what He's doing in this world.