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The Musings of a Stubborn Believer

Category: inspiration (page 2 of 7)

To Finish the Job [Glorious Fast – Part V]

September 13, 2012 / / 4 Comments

“… and that ye break every yoke?…”

This is no halfway freedom we’re talking about.

This is undeniably the most audacious face of the conflict–
It’s grace, returning to finish the job.

Because “if the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.”

So it is that the trembling (but oh, so happy) child of God (only recently in chains) awakens one morning to a flurry of activity, and while yet rubbing sleep from the eyes an angel brushes by and says the Commander is waiting…

“For what– 
        For me??”

Yes. Because just getting clear of the door of that prison is’t enough for this General.
Today they’re going back to crush the fortress to a thousand pieces.

And He wants to take me with Him.

So we set out. Me with my little coil of rope, and Him, strong as ten thousand times ten thousand bulldozers. And I look up in awe while we trek– still thinking this is a dream. The One, the Invincible Soldier. The other, the admiring little boy, still in his pajamas…
And He looks down and smiles.

He doesn’t need me.

But He glories in making the weak, strong.
            –in setting them over their enemies.

And after all, don’t I know where the pillars in that place rest, better than most?


Chained by Fear [Glorious Fast – Part IV]

September 10, 2012 / / 8 Comments

“…and to let the oppressed to free…“

“There is nothing in the world to fear, but fear itself.“
–words to a trusted friend those.

Fear substantiates the false claims of every captor.

Because when I fail, this jail I find myself in is horrible…
But even more horrible is the fear.

Fear keeps thousands in prison, when the door is wide open.
Because worse than jail itself is fearing “how God will treat me” when I get out…

But to say that God is anything like fear describes is as wrong as calling the devil a savior.

Nothing could be farther from the truth.

The truth is, God loves.
only. loves.

 But the fearing can scarcely be blamed for disbelieving that at times…

We’ve taught them to.

 Yes. You and me.
We teach the weak to fear.
By our actions. When we’re supposed to be representing Jesus Himself…

And that keeps them in prison even when the doors are open.

“…and to let the oppressed to free…”

 Not just by getting the door open.
By helping them believe they’ll always find open arms on the other side of the threshold.

Always.

The Blind Cannot Lead The Blind [Glorious Fast – Part II]

September 4, 2012 / / 6 Comments

“…to loose the bands of wickedness…”

If hacking chains is exhilarating work, it is also gut-wrenching. Tear jerking.
Soul taxing–

And full-filling.

It is neither for the faint-hearted, nor for the half-committed…

But it is brilliantly, brilliantly rewarding.

Little wonder then that many an eager recruit has taken to the field with clumsy grip and misfit armor to seek fame in such brave exploits. Only, without first counting (or even knowing) the cost.

These first six words betray one of the best-kept secrets of the dark side.

As regards [im]morality*:

License is bondage.

Lust is an iron chain.
And many, many beautiful people are wearing such fetters.

But these, my friends,
These are the first chains to go.

Only, they will never fall helpless before the faith (or the fervent fuming) of the faint-hearted,
or the half-committed.

From these same six words rings out to every soldier sharpening his sword for such a battle, this thundered imperative- a charge commanding every anguished drop of a soldier’s undying commitment:

Be. thou. pure.

Be thou pure.

Because only purity is stronger than vice.


*Strongs: [“wickedness” from 7561; a wrong (especially moral)…]

God’s Fortress

August 1, 2012 / / 4 Comments

“…It’s not even American young people and European young people working together–“

“We’re Adventist young people.”
I sit and listen, fidget while tingles play tag up and down my spine. I brush tears away; squeeze fists together tight till my forearms bulge. 
I’m watching stone walls generations old crack before my eyes.
I’m watching the sun dip low on the heyday of materialism, secularism, postmodernism. 
Yes, even on the continent.
I’m watching a generation wake up and decide all those things are empty and they’ve had enough.
I am one of them.
Oh, and I don’t mean to say we’ll win without paying the ultimate price.
But I am saying, it’s as good as over. 
We can’t lose.
. . . .
I recline early, book in hand under soft glow of christmas lights that grace my office year-round. (Jet lag in my favor, I’m bright and eager at 0200)
My eyes hesitate at the end of this phrase, retrace and return. Revel:
“The church is God’s fortress”
 Acts of the Apostles p.11 | photo: JN


Why We Live

May 8, 2012 / / 10 Comments

Identity determines purpose.

In other words, who you are determines what you will do.

*  *  *  *  *

I have a question for you. A question still ringing in my ears from a secret spot on a sunny hillside at Sweetwater…

Can you tell me, in 10 words or less, why you’re alive?
I mean, are you living today for a reason, or are you just breathing, working, studying…?

Let me tell you a little secret:
Identity determines purpose.
Satisfaction is the fulfillment of that purpose.

I’m blessed to be surrounded by some deep, beautiful people…
You know what we’ve been learning of late?

Just living isn’t enough.

Let me gently remind you who you are.

You’re the King’s son. The King’s daughter…
You’re the broken little lamb that the Shepherd keeps charging into the briers to rescue.
(That’s His blood on the thorns, not yours.)
You’re the pinnacle of God’s creativity.
Yes, you.

And you were created to identify with God. And for God to identify with.
And you’ve been broken, and bruised, and horribly disobedient.
But you’ve been redeemed.

That’s who you are.

So now: Your purpose… Your motto. 10 words or less?
Choose them carefully. Because in the end, they’ll be the reason why you breathe, work, study… Live.

Can I tell you why I live? Why I love, preach, blog, breathe?
Why I want to finish Nurse Practitioner and spend 6 months of 12 in a dark land?

“To Make Men Free.”

Strength and Joy

February 1, 2012 / / 7 Comments
Pounding out (up, actually) mile number 4 yesterday, my brain tells me “You’re going to die. As in, now.” 
But as Providence would have it, I run listening to one of my favorite audiobooks. And the girl reading through my workout playlist was at just the right spot on the page…
“Those who decline the struggle lose the strength and joy of victory.”

Well timed.
I laugh. Breathe. Run a bit faster. 
Thanks Allie. 

We Know

December 18, 2011 / / 6 Comments

I awake early. I’ve slept for only a few hours, but I am charged…
I blink at a dark room, pause to pray. To consider. To remember–

again.

I have no idea what time it is. I don’t check.
Instead, I count God’s mercies, and beg that He will keep us His… always.
That nothing will ever induce us to chose another life. That no success, no opportunity, no open door, no pain or loss, or suffering will distract us from His claims on this little family of mine.

Hours pass. I don’t know how many. The light of dawn finally glows in the east. I reach into the leather bag I set down by my bed at 11:00 last night, pull out a book, open to December 18.

“And we know that all things work together
for good to them that love God.“

“And we know…!” Not we think, or we hope. Not even we have faith that…
No, we know.
I know. I’d love to tell you just how, sometime…

I keep reading. But I’ve been fed already.

My mind wanders back over hours of prayers in the dark. There is only one condition in this verse before my eyes. “Love God.” For those who love God, one day (quite possibly much sooner than you think) all the darkness will be understood to be exactly what it really is– a gift.

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? 
shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, 
or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?. . . 
Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors 
through Him that loved us.”

Just a Pebble…

December 10, 2011 / / 5 Comments

Some day when every wrong is made right, I will understand the true weight of today. For now, let’s just say it was one of the best days of my entire life…

I step out, zipped and buttoned. Black wool and cashmere reach earthward almost to my knees. The very air is alive with vigor, somewhat like my insides… I go to meet my God in a beautiful field, on a beautiful farm, this beautiful morning of mornings.

I sit on sandstone at the spot where two friends of mine became one months ago, and read…
And my journal, this spiral bound book with my handwriting in it, this book that records the secrets of my broken-hearted moments, this book my Nana gave me, it opens my eyes to the goodness of my God.

Every moment I have lived, every mercy I have tasted, every tear I have shed, every battle I have fought, every dream turned to ashes, was for today.

Today.

Without them, the new dreams springing up would have nothing to root in; to feed on. Because of them, I love my God more than I love anything else in this great wide world. And I love all that is (are!) His…

Hours pass and I wander around the pond; ponder why my heart is here today anyway…

It was just a pebble.

Just a friend who doesn’t even know it happened. But just because they love Jesus, because they love what is high and holy and pure, and just because I was blessed to catch a glimpse of it when I was momentarily unsure of what to do with my sword, just because of that; them…..

Some day when every wrong is made right, I will understand the true weight of today.

Mean time, I will never again underestimate the power of influence…
Even if it does seem like just a pebble…

“Throw a pebble into a lake, and a wave is formed, and another…
until they reach the very shore. So with our influence. 
Beyond our knowledge or control it tells upon others 
in blessing or in cursing…
If by our example, we aid others in the development of 
good principles, we give them power to do good. In their turn 
they exert the same influence upon others, 
and they upon still others. 
Thus by our unconscious influence many may be blessed.”
Signs of the Times, Oct 21, 1903

Love Stronger

November 30, 2011 / / 14 Comments

I thought I understood forgiveness.
Then the anguished cries of a heartbroken hero filled me first with wonder, then with hope…

–  –  –
–  –  –

Mahanaim, Land of Promise.

A king and a father await word of the battle, from the safety of the city’s gate.
At long last the runners are seen. The pacing ceases. The king must know the state of the nation. The father longs to know the state of his son.

The report arrives, breathless.
King listens. Father waits… Then:

“But what about my boy??“

Beg your pardon?

What boy?

You mean the one who killed your eldest son? That cold blooded barbarian who sought to steal from you everything you had, ending with the crown? The one that this very day launched a campaign to end your life? That boy?
The one who so slowly, so slyly turned the hearts of your friends against you? Turned your influence to ashes from the inside out? Shamed you? Defamed your character before your counselors? Unravelled every thread of trust in the fabric of your rule? That boy?
The one who won the hearts of the kingdom’s greatest talent, greatest beauty, greatest skill? Split your family in pieces, then laughed at your sorrow? That one?
That boy?


Yes. Exactly that boy.

And when the king-father hears that his son has fallen, he breaks in pieces.
He breaks into bitter sobs; looks for a place to hide his grief.
The guard tower above the gate will have to do. He stumbles up crude stone stairs meant only for soldiers. Breathless messengers and stalwart guards watch him go, hear him sob:

“O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!” (II Sam 18:33)

–  –  –

I blind with tears even now.
Lord of Glory, teach me the heart of forgiveness…

Don’t misunderstand me. I am known as a merciful man. But this has pushed the bounds of my conscious duty.

How in the world…?

It isn’t complicated.

Forgiveness is simply love, stronger.
Stronger than death.
I mean real love…

Until days ago forgiveness was mechanical in my mind. Simply a releasing of hate. Almost an aloofness that says “I’m fine, you’re fine. I’m not hurt by this.”

But forgiveness isn’t finished with the releasing of hate. It needs the (re)embracing of love.
Real love.

I can feel from here the throbbing hearts of readers that will never comment on this post. Hearts that cry because trust has been broken, shame has been dealt out. I sense tears, even in the dark. Your soul sinks, because you’re sure there’s more to this I can’t possibly understand.

I don’t pretend to fully understand, but my heart throbs with you. Nor am I so naïve as to believe that healing is always as quick or simple as a choice.
I have a Master’s degree in counseling. And I know and love more broken people than some will meet in a lifetime.

But please, oh please my friend… Listen to me. And then pass the word to every hurting soul you know.

Whether you’ve been defamed, distrusted, shamed, violated, exploited, stolen from, crushed, then laughed at…

Remember:
David was wounded by his own flesh and blood. His family. And it is those closest that have the greatest power to harm, as well as heal.

But David had love. Love stronger…

Love is stronger.
And to love is to be free.

Tell, oh tell the hurting world…

Imperative of the Supernatural

November 14, 2011 / / 7 Comments

The sound of dry leaves underfoot charms me through. (I’m a midwesterner by breeding.)
I shuffle for the joy of the sound; the joy of the smell…

I breathe pure November under naked oak and hickory;
pause to watch the world readying for white…

And I wonder:

When a man of God does, who does the doing?

I have heard more than one new recruit on the field say to his fellow:

“Buck up, man! You’ve got what it takes.”

Hm.
Kinda.

I’m unconvinced. Especially when I remember that Adam in his spotless strength and beauty drew every drop of nobility he possessed from his connection to his Maker… even though he was fresh from the hands of God (and thus was arguably in the best place to stand alone). His glory, his perfection, his holiness were gifts given not to stand alone, but to put and keep him in connection with the Perfect and Holy… And even as every leaf today draws it’s life force, and every star it’s brilliance from the heartbeat of God, Adam drew his glory from the Infinite.

I other words, the crown of God’s crowning creation (read: humanity) was the connection with Heaven.
What can be compared?

But disconnect… Now there’s a real problem.

[I bend down, aim my iPhone a few inches above grade.]

Disconnect perfect angels, and you get demons.
Disconnect perfect and glorious humanity, and… Well, look around you.

And if Adam needed so badly to be connected to his God… then what are we thinking when we blaze off on our own? Or when we foolishly unfit ourselves for the inhabitance of the Holy Spirit… (emphasis on the word Holy.)

Every man of God, ever woman of God, is nothing.
The image of God, yes… But every shadow disappears when the object is removed.
Without the Supernatural indwelling, we are lifeless, empty shells.

Or worse.

Yea, much worse… the indwelling of the other supernatural.

You’re just a shell, my friend. Just a shell…

Ah, but what glory, when filled with Heaven itself!?
What an honor, to be God’s shadow.

Then let everything else be cast out, that we might not restrict the inflow of the Spirit.
Darkness and Light cannot both be.

Let the Light so shine…

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