Making Room

I sit in the living room, looking out the window.
The birds sing as the sky lightens, over the sweet porches with their lightbulbs still glowing, and over the picket fences.

I thank God for this place where I live. Our once-unfurnished house now has belongings in every corner. I thank God for how He has filled us, the family inside the house, with hope, with joy, and cherished gifts of his Spirit. I thank God for how He has furnished our lives.

As we make plans to build a new home nearby, I thank God for the experience of living in this well-known, well-loved place. Our family remains thankful for all the comforts of the house we’ve shared for these many years. Yet even as we fondly live in this place, so familiar and very much home, we keep before us that we do have another place that we will go. We needfully acknowledge the limitations of where we are, to better appreciate where we are going.

I thank God also for the visualization, the expectation, of this place where we will live, one day when we move. As we’ve talked about it at length, it's a home that’s become a reality long before any piece of wood has been bought. Each time we revisit the topic, this place too becomes more and more familiar to us. And even though we’ve never walked there, it is a place already special to us.

We’ve made room for it in our minds.

We’ve had the opportunity to sit and talk with the architect, to examine it from every view that he provides. We’ve heard and shared his enthusiasm and excitement about what he has crafted for us.

We need to know that we’re going, and we need to know where we’ll be. But it’s a home that we will trust someone else to construct. We won’t place any portion of it, not a single timber or stone. All we will place is our trust, that someone else will put together what we need. We’ll also be trusting that someone to craft it well, to make it special.

I thank God for this hope, and I thank God for this life that we share.
I thank Him for how His presence has blessed our time here on this earth. My once uncharted life now has tasks and responsibilities that fill the moments. I thank God for how He has filled me with purpose. I thank God for how he has furnished our days.

We remain thankful for all the memories we cherish. Yet even as we recall that today is the day which the Lord has made, choosing to rejoice and be glad in it, we keep before us that we will have a life beyond this one. We needfully acknowledge the limitations of this world, to better appreciate the joys of the heaven that we will share.

As we make plans to spend eternity with God, I thank God for giving us this expectation. As we fellowship with each other and other Christians, paradise is a home that’s become part of our reality even now. Each time we revisit the topic, this place too becomes more and more familiar to us, and already more and more treasured.

We’ve made room for it in our hearts.

We’ve answered the invitation to prayer, taking the opportunity to sit and talk with the architect. Reading through the Word, we examine eternity from every view that God provides. In Scripture and in spirit, we’ve heard and shared his enthusiasm and excitement about what he has crafted for us.

Because this life ends, we know that we’re going. Because of His sacrifice, and the gracious revelation in His word, we know where we’re going. Acknowledging the quality of His work, it’s a place that we trust God to construct, and God alone. Our eternal welfare is not in our hands. We place our trust in God, for all our needs and our wants.

There’s light yet in this day. There’s day left to spend time with Him. Rest in Him. Abide in Him. And invite Him to abide in us.
Let us dwell on relationship with God.

Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.
Isaiah 55:1

Last Sunday, our pastor reminded us of this, God’s invitation to invest ourselves in His ways and His kingdom. Our Lord calls us forward, in our hunger, to a banquet table filled with peace, joy, and all other fruits of the spirit. He calls us to leave behind the things that the world values – acquiring material wealth, social status, etc. – to seek the things that will finally satisfy.
Our Sunday School lesson also told the story of Jesus’ friend Mary, who invested herself in her worship, anointing Him with costly perfume. The disciples chided her for wasting money. Jesus chided them, saying she had her priorities straight.

The day before, I’d been selling food at a tournament held by the martial arts academy we attend. We volunteers chose to be accountable to each other, asking each other to witness when we took money to the cashbox to buy food for ourselves and our families. It was all bought cheaply -- a dollar here, a quarter there, at our half-price volunteer discount. Because of our teacher’s generosity and appreciation, we had all eaten for very little.
We also had fun with our friends from the school and with the families in attendance. I tried to hand out the food with care and consideration, and the folks on the other side of the concession table more than returned it. One martial arts teacher, who outranked most of the people in attendance, took time to joke with the kids standing nearby, and lavished compliments for the cheeseburgers grilled just outside the door. And later, I sent my son after another customer who forgot his change; but my son returned with the change, explaining that the customer decided to donate it to the cashbox.
It was an event well worth the investment of our time.

The next day, we visited the bookstore, and then tried to decide where to eat. I got voted down; the steakhouse was the husband’s option. But I really enjoyed all of us just sitting down at the restaurant talking together. There was time for jokes, for stories, for reminders on table etiquette.
During dinner, our waitress showed up with her hands outstretched, ready to personally take away the trash from our table – torn sugar wrappers and the paper napkins damp from the glasses – so we could better enjoy our meal. I didn’t really want to deal with any of that at that time; I wasn’t so eager to hand all that to her while I was still eating. But I was humbled by the fact that she was willing to put her hands on it right then and there.
The food was also very delicious, worth choosing to pack lunches for a while afterward to maintain balance in our budget. At the restaurant, we spent a great deal, but because of my husband’s generosity in taking us out and because of our family fellowship, as well as good food and service, we were glad for the meal. Just like the day before, it was worth our investment.

So it is with our God. Generosity, service and fellowship, part of both the tournament and the restaurant meal, are found in God’s invitation to us. He invites us to His well-stocked banquet table and calls the spiritually poor to fill themselves, to change a life that does not satisfy. But this is no redemption drive-through, or a blessings buffet. He invites us to sit and eat.
He’s tending needs beyond our stomach. Like the tournament host and customers, He teaches us by His example the importance of kindnesses extended to the least of us – being generous with time, with money, and with praise. Like a patient parent, He teaches us good table manners: how to be considerate of others in the things we do. Like the waitress at the restaurant, He refills our glasses with living water that refreshes and revives. He also sees the things that we’ve just shoved to one side, that really don’t belong there anymore, and clears the way, personally and hands-on. In all he does, He is showing us by His example how to serve.
The most important thing on the table is that He’s talking with us. He’s teaching us how to spend time with him. When we give Him our time, we give Him ourselves. When we anoint Him with that, there are stories to be told and joys to share.
Generosity, service, fellowship. These are priceless things that ultimately satisfy – the very meat of our lives.

Reaping Righteousness

One night at church, as the Bible lesson neared an end, my smiling 12-year-old son hovered in the doorway. His Scout meeting down the hall was over, and he didn't realize he was a distraction. After I interrupted the lesson to shoo him away, he went into the next room and idly began ringing a bell.

I knew he was unaware that he'd become an ever greater distraction. Our teacher continued summing up her lesson, not letting frustration lessen her focus. And her focus lessened my frustration. When our meeting was over and my son returned, I was able to smile as I pointed out his mistake and told him to apologize.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Galatians 5:22,23

In the car, I told him how I'd enjoyed the lesson, and benefited even more from the teacher’s example of patience, which bore witness to her maturity in Christianity.

A few days ago, I'd been shopping for groceries, and I passed up the bananas because they were as green as grass. The fruit was fully grown, but it was in no way ripe. I explained to my son that the fruit was like a lot of adults that I encounter: long grown, but still not spiritually mature.

I added that green fruit doesn't always ripen. “Sometimes it just starts to rot,” my son replied. I nodded, pointing out the danger for a spiritually immature adult – that without growing into faith, life can go to waste.

But placing a green banana with ripe ones can lead it to ripen as well.

Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise – the fruit of lips that confess his name. And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased. Hebrews 13:15,16

Our lesson had exhorted us to feel an urgency to share saving faith with others who don't yet realize the love of God. And I was learning because of my time spent with the others at the church. The patience I’d seen had helped me to yield it too. The fruit of the Holy Spirit, once shared, helps other Christians mature and be fruitful. Sharing the fruit of the Holy Spirit with those not yet acquainted with Him, sows the Holy Spirit into the world.

God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Genesis 1:28

Troubling Times

Do we exalt, or exult in, our troubles?
And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope. Romans 5:3,4 NAS
That’s the verse as it should be; I didn’t refer to it correctly in my first post. I typed in the word “exalt” instead of “exult”.

But both the verse and the error challenge us. How many people did I invite to my last pity party? Do I tell my troubles over and over, gaining sympathy but actually exalting those troubles and their power over me?

ex⋅alt
–verb (used with object)
1. to raise in rank, honor, power, character, quality, etc.; elevate: He was exalted to the position of president.
2. to praise; extol: to exalt someone to the skies.
3. to stimulate, as the imagination.
4. to intensify, as a color.
5. Obsolete. to elate, as with pride or joy.

Likewise, I don’t intend to praise the work of evil in my life – certainly not “to the skies”. Nor do I mean to stimulate evil imaginations to further trouble; nor to intensify trouble’s effect. And it would be all too ironic to elate my enemy, when it was God’s intention that I be an heir to true joy.

ex⋅ult
–verb (used without object)
1. to show or feel a lively or triumphant joy; rejoice exceedingly; be highly elated or jubilant: They exulted over their victory.
2. Obsolete. to leap, esp. for joy.
Synonyms:
1. delight, glory, revel.

I don’t want to bypass the peace that follows releasing those troubles to God, and I don’t want to bypass the joy that comes from transformation by the Holy Spirit. Our troubles present opportunity, for God to lend His perseverance, His character, and hope in Him. It is an opportunity for victory.

When we could delight in the occasion to prove out God’s power in our lives, all to His glory; when we could choose to revel in the Word He has given us, instead of choosing to rebel by seeking false relief in complaining -- what a pity it is.

Children of God: Born Again and Growing Up

We choose to be born again when we first state faith in Jesus Christ, accepting Him as Lord and Savior.

We become children of God, and are embraced just as Jesus was when God publicly recognized Him as his Son.

Immediately after that, Jesus was led into the wilderness, where he faced hunger and the perils of temptation.

Trials also follow our statement of faith. Scripture tells us to expect and even exalt these tribulations.

The difficult times of our lives parallel times in the wilderness as described in the Bible.

For the believer, it is a wilderness like that the Israelites wandered in after deliverance from slavery in Egypt. Our deliverance from slavery to sin came when we first proclaimed faith. But our journey to intimate relationship with God can be swift -- or like the Israelites', it can be delayed years by rebellion and mistrust.

This is my body which is broken for you...This is my blood which is shed for you.

Meditation on their journey, and honest study of our own struggles, reveals that the times we spend in the wilderness are necessary to our spiritual development. Consider that time in the wilderness is the gestation period for spiritual rebirth. A child in the womb has a simplified menu, nourished through direct contact with its mother. He receives only what his mother supplies. He feeds from his mother's blood. And growth leads to an appointed time to emerge and exercise what has formed over time. Likewise, spending time in Communion with our heavenly Father and feeding on His word -- receiving it and letting it fuel our thoughts, words and actions -- makes growth inevitable.

Give us this day our daily bread.

The Israelites spent years feeding on manna, a sustenance they could not stockpile. Their water often came from a rock, a source they could not reroute and reservoir. When we are in the wilderness, facing our struggles and crises, we are ultimately forced to rely on God's daily providence rather than our failing prowess and wit.

Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation.

Just as the child in the womb feeds from the blood supplied by his mother, a nursing child draws nourishment from the very body of his mother, strengthened by its nutrients. He receives precisely what he most needs, exactly as he needs it. We who would grow in Christ continue to need Communion with him, to feed upon the living water he provides. We need to drink in his Word. Then it nourishes and becomes part of our newer expanded selves.

It is also at birth that a child, having outgrown the confines of the womb, is delivered into an expanded reality. So it was with the Israelites, who were sorely challenged by life outside the more predictable bounds of slavery. So it is with us, coming to understand life outside the bonds of sin.

As we grow, we take on our parents' form, so that those who see us know whose children we are. Once grown, our relationship with our parents deepens, as we remain their children still. Children of God mature and walk in His footsteps, speak His word and show His face to the world.