A Million Questions

 

The ground shook violently when the four angels landed. The sound reverberated throughout the entire distracted world. You heard it clear as day. Well, as clear as days used to be. It made you ask what was real and what was not. Question number one. There would be more to follow.

A man appeared on stage. He was well-lit, perfectly lit, and convincing. His words were eloquent. They moved the audience to nowhere, but they moved towards it with great purpose. Now they were all well-lit. A band played. People worshiped. Was it right? Another question.

The sun shone on the just and the unjust. It darted around the sky. First yellow, then red, a brilliant red. How long had the sun burned us like this? Another question.

Too much coffee raises the blood. It makes you hungry. Thirsty. It makes you strong, for a moment, then weak. How long have I been a glutton?

Those books sat on your shelf, and one was hidden away, both gone now by the order of the Lord. He told you to toss them, though you had not expected it. But they were good, weren’t they? No. How much disobedience do I have?

These questions. One more, then another. All will be answered. Each on its own and then all of them together. Psst. There is only one answer.

The times changed while you watched. People, my fellow wardens of the Earth, are reaching out to phantoms. What do they see? Why do they create such destruction? That’s two questions. What is going on here? A third.

That’s how many angels fell to the Earth, a third of them. Are they what is vexing mankind?

So many questions.

Do you know the answer, my friends?

“…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Romans 3:23

We need a Savior. See? One answer.

A prayer for Kim Jong-Un

 

Why?

Because...

God is real. The Gospel is true.

In the early 1900's, just over one hundred years ago, Pyongyang, North Korea was called the Jerusalem of the East. Kim Jong-Un's great-grandparents were devout Christians. When communism swept that country the leaders hid that fact and painted them as good communists.

So a prayer for Kim Jong-Un:

The Lord bless you and keep you.

The Lord open your eyes and water your gardens.

The Lord rescue and help you.

The Lord change the ground beneath your feet.

The Lord take your heart in His hands and give you peace.

I am just an ordinary person, but I believe you can change the whole world with a prayer.

 

For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes: first to the Jew, then to the Gentile. 

Romans 1:16

Restored

 

Simcha stood at his easel painting the new world. It came on the tailwind of the old world. Blowing like a breeze, it was a fire, the old tore down, but the new rebuilt. Slowly, then all at once, the new replaced the old. It carried out rotted wood. It shoveled out this, that, all of it. It restored one brick at a time, a blade of grass and then another, a song, a verse, all of it poured out of the new and watered the Earth.

The old man wondered if he too would be replaced. He was nearly 800 or a thousand. He couldn’t remember and didn’t feel like adding it up. All his days, though, were a drop in the bucket of this great triumphant world of man. He was a mere human but could see the truth as plain as day. The new world was emerging as the old was vanquished. He hadn’t thought it could change so quickly, but it did.

The birds sang a new song, loudly and boldly. The sky was bluer. The grass was greener. It had not been like this before even during the time of Eden. Somehow, the redemption of God made it better than it was even at the beginning of His perfect creation. He had restored it completely.

 

Look at the nations and watch—

and be utterly amazed.

For I am going to do something in your days

that you would not believe,

even if you were told.

 

Habakkuk 1:5

John 4:22

 

You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, 

for salvation is from the Jews.

Salvation

 

Lest you be wise in your own sight, I do not want you to be unaware of this mystery, brothers: a partial hardening has come upon Israel, until the fullness of the Gentiles has come in. And in this way all Israel will be saved, as it is written,

“The Deliverer will come from Zion,

    he will banish ungodliness from Jacob”;

“and this will be my covenant with them

    when I take away their sins.”

Romans 11:25-27

Israel

 

I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse;

 and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.  

Genesis 12:3

Why?

 

He did not say this on his own, but as high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus would die for the Jewish nation, and not only for that nation but also for the scattered children of God, to bring them together and make them one.

John 11:51-52

And the Demon Left Her

 

He was a good doctor, the kind who believed more than he had been told. He delivered them all, sick and sane and insane. No one says insane anymore. No one calls anything what it is anymore.

He was uncomfortable that day in his stone-cold, orderly office. He had read the book and put it away. Lunch was soon. Not soon enough. In staggered a helpless soul who needed his help. They exchanged pleasantries as they often did.

“In my life,” the man said, “Something is always holding me down.”

The doctor looked over his chart, noted the common medications, therapy, diagnoses. He nodded.

The man went on, “It’s like I can’t ever catch my breath.”

The doctor nodded again, though he did not agree, understand or anything associated with a nod.

“My spiritual breath,” the desperate patient clarified.

The hair stood up on the doctor’s neck.

He nodded, this time with understanding he wished he did not have.

“Something is with me. I can feel it. It doesn’t belong here.” The patient went on.

“It doesn’t belong here,” the good doctor repeated.

It was true. It didn’t belong. None of this belonged, the ailments, the issues, the longing for freedom, man was made for more. The doctor knew it. He just didn’t know how to get there.

In came the receptionist. She was an annoying woman at best, always going on and on about Jesus. Of course she had come in, of course she felt what was going on or knew it somehow deep in her churchy soul. She must have heard a cry, or the spirit sent her or something.

“Doctor,” she said, “There is a man here to see you.”

He nodded.

When she turned to leave, he stopped her.

“Wait.”

She turned.

“Tell me again the story of your deliverance.”

She was taken aback. Almost everyone in the office had asked her to stop telling them about her deliverance. In fact, she thought it a miracle she still had a job.

She nodded.

“Well,” she began. “J…”

That’s it. All she got out was the beginning sound of the name of Jesus and the demon left him.

Other Freedom

 

Look what you did to my bangs.

This is a terrible haircut!

I should have stopped you. Regret. I should have risen from this swiveling chair and struck you down. Maybe not. Maybe that’s crazy. Instead, I will think of you every time I look at my driver’s license photo and shudder at your ineptitude. How dare you make me look funny?

I really sound like this in my head, but read with sound it sounds… 

How does it sound? I’ll tell you.

To me it rolls back and forth like a tennis game. I should have. She shouldn’t have. But to the Lord? How does this sound to you, Lord? Like praise? No. Like forgiveness? Nope. 

Rage? Yes, rage.

But there’s more.

As I seek the Lord a great grief covers me. This bothers Him. 

The condition of my heart towards you hurts Him.

Take that, Unforgiveness. 

The gift of realizing how painful and heavy this is, was just what I needed to let it go.

Weird, the things that hold us down.

And yesterday I was in that salon again, except now it is a coffee shop. Its name? 

Restore. No kidding.

The Book of Stupid Things

 

To my great-great-great granddaughter, I will not leave this book to you. I pray you never flip through its pages, never draw its words in as a breath, that you live free, freer than me.

The Book of Stupid Things.

She held a book of stupid things.

It held her memories, all the bad ones.

It condemned her and others. It told lies, believe it or not. Some people believe lies as though they are the truth. Forty pages, chapters all, in teeny-tiny font so a million letters fill each verse. A million and one, then more, insisting she should not have done that. It was the heaviest book in all existence. It was a great tomb, uh, tome.

Chapter One: Foolish Words. Why did I say that?

Chapter Two: What Have I Done?

Unforgiveness.

Wasted days.

If only I had done that instead.

If only. If only.

Do you have a well-read book like this?

I remember what you said! At least, I am not guilty like you. Oh, wait. I am too. All the chapters in this book are about me. Ad nauseam.

Condemnation is not the same as conviction. Not even close.

My great-great-great granddaughter, sweet one, holy one, do not confuse the two. Follow conviction and wisdom. Do not write for yourself a book of stupid things.

Who are Gog and Magog?

 

Starts at about 3:00- goes to 22:00 or so. 

(Warning: at 19:28 he talks a bit about some social issues that you may not want kids to hear.)

The Queen of Laundry

 

She found herself there in the laundry, in the folding of towels and tops and tiny socks. It taught her. She learned to pray in these quiet times, in this pause.

She asked the Lord what to do. He said this. Have you ever heard His voice? It is sweet. He said her real job was folding this laundry. Taking care of a family is important. It is essential. While doing that, pray, ask, seek, I hear you.

She folded everything in this grand house. Not a thing was out of her reach or distant from her effect. No whisper unheard, no cry for help disregarded. Each feather floating to the ground, another rainstorm or hushed quiet time, a meal lovingly prepared, a hope unnamed, each thing in this palace was her thing, all the things. Her eyes were on the sparrow and its eyes on her.

The War came suddenly, but she didn’t notice it. Outside the politicians howled like the wind. Inside the hearth was warm and set for bedtime. Outside the armies joined together in an evil embrace. Destruction led them. Inside her home was shalom, peace. Mercy and goodness followed her. The ground shook. The cage rattled. Did you know we are in a cage? She did not. Her bars were bent, her steps secure, her eyes ahead, only ahead. She lived free among prisoners. She sang among the deaf. She spoke and they heard, the people of silence, the people with no recollection of what had just occurred.

She stood at the ready, but no battle came near her home.

Two soldiers approached, each carrying the other. They were from the other side but needed her help. She recognized their flag, though to her it meant only Intercession. It meant triumph of the Spirit and calling out to God. Unknown to these fierce soldiers, this woman had been praying for their well-being for many years, and she welcomed them.

The war was over suddenly. The president shocked everyone, his closest, his farthest, the enemy and his friends. He said he was done, but wondered if he would ever be forgiven.

She forgave him.

Between the Living and the Dead

                                                                       

They flipped through the photo album like it was a holy book.

“I remember this phase,” he said. “You looked like death.”

“As did you,” she reminded him.

They laughed a lot and wept a little remembering the past. So many days wasted.

He turned the page.

“This is when the light came on in your eyes.”

She looked closely. It was. She could see it too.

He continued, “One day we were peas in a pod. The next day you were different.”

She nodded.

He was silent for quite some time, then asked, “Did I ever tell you about my dream?”

No. He hadn’t.

His voice cleared and he told it as if he’d been mulling it over for 34 years.

“You were in front of me, talking about something to do with your kitchen. Really. Just an ordinary day and ordinary words and a folded dish towel you put on the counter. It was sudden, but it wasn’t. Somehow in the dream I knew it wasn’t just you. It was this great cloud. You were gone. They were gone. I was standing alone in your kitchen looking at where you had been. I could see you in the sky, in a way, though you weren’t there either.”

She listened.

He went on, “You asked Jesus not to forget me.”

She was surprised, but not really.

“He didn’t forget me,” his voice cracked. “He froze everything. The sky. The people. You, even.”

“For how long?” She wanted details.

He smiled as he said, “Almost 80 years, the length of my lifetime. He waited for me.”

They wept as they remembered these things.

The Room of Many Gods

 

Her name meant many. She lived up to it. Many embraced the world and all that was in it. She had many friends from many places, multiples and others and more. She took it all in, the whole of existence, the things that are and those only dreamed to be. She filled her home and her heart with them. There was not one thing Many left outside her door. It was all welcome.

In the soul of her home, a small room in the center of it, Mary gathered the gods of the nations. She prided herself in their presence with her. Shelves held those she could not hold in her arms, great sculptures of this and that, twisted arms and gallant poses, proud faces. Her heart held the mighty, those who were tall or crouched and reaching far and wide, too wide for a shelf. Her floor was filled with them, idols who were idle, unmovable but fierce. She loved them all. They served her, as best they could, in that room, in that one place, without leaving it.

Friend visited her sometimes. Friend’s name meant, well, friend. She stood outside the room of gods but would not go in.

“What do they do?” Friend asked Many.

Many smiled. She didn’t really have an answer, but she liked having them there.

“They don’t have to do anything,” she explained. “I do everything for them.”

Many pulled a small mat from the room into another and offered it to Friend to sit on.

“I cannot,” said Friend with no explanation.

Many smiled again. She was happy with whatever was said to her. A yes or a no, it made no difference to her. She was her own joy and was fine with all else that was someone else’s. Many was like water. She flowed wherever the world took her.

“I was hoping you’d visit today,” she told Friend. “I have something to ask you.”

Friend was curious. She leaned in.

Many gathered herself. Motioning to her room of gods, she addressed Friend with the utmost sincerity.

“I would like a symbol of your god,” she said.

Friend was surprised. Astonished. If Many had known more about her God she would not have asked such a thing. Her God would eat up all the rest. There would be no other gods.

“A symbol,” was all Friend could think to say.

“Yes!” Many was excited, “A cross maybe? Or do you have a statue of Jesus?”

Friend gasped. She didn’t fully understand why that was her reaction, but she had the sense Many was asking for a ball of fire but had no idea. It wasn’t disrespect, but lack of knowledge. Jesus is more than a statue and Many did not know that. Friend had the sudden realization that she had not told these things to Many and so Many did not know.

“I cannot,” was all she could think to say.

“It doesn’t have to be elaborate,” Many offered. “Jesus was simple himself, right? A plain wooden cross, maybe? Small, not too big. I don’t want him blocking out the view of the others.”

Friend nodded. She understood, but Many did not. He would block out all the others. That is what He does.

She repeated, “I cannot.”

Many suggested she could make one herself and put it in the room.

Friend was still.

Unbothered, Many fashioned a small wooden cross out of some sticks from her mantle. Simple, like Jesus, unmoving like her other gods. She placed it in the middle of the room.

“See?” She said to Friend, “Like that. No big deal.”

She asked Friend to bless it.

“I cannot,” came the awkward reply.

Many, always eager to please, took no offense and merely offered to bless it herself.

She said simply, “Jesus…” and her voice trailed off.

She froze. Friend froze. The room changed.

“What has happened here?” She asked Friend.

Friend replied simply, “He’s different.”

Suddenly, Many understood.

Do you know birds?

 

I 

just saw a little bird 

chase off a big bird (not Big Bird...ha ha).

A big bird.

The little bird won.

How did it do that?

Tast and See

 

Forgiveness

tastes better

than doing it right the first time.

Be Like Helen Dawson

 

When I was a child my mom had a friend who took us to her bible study. I was about nine. I remember going and coming home in her van. I remember the presence of God with us. She didn't do anything memorable herself, but somehow her steadfast faith made an impression on me and I recall it all these years later. I am almost certain she prayed for me, then and probably for many years afterwards. I am certain of it, actually. She impacted my life.

I asked my mom about her this morning. Turns out, she was a teacher. She was the same teacher who confiscated candy from me one day in Jr. High and had it drug-tested just in case. She told my mom. They waited for the results. It was candy. I don't know why this story makes me smile so big now. I suspect she watched us kids with concern in those days and my friends' friends or a friend may have been on her radar, so she watched me too. That warms my heart today. It also reminds me that the Lord has been with me all along. 

Thank you, Helen Dawson, wherever you are.

How does the Lord feel about you?

 

(Trouble me) disturb me with all your cares and your worries 

(Trouble me) on the days when you feel spent

Why let your shoulders bend 

Underneath this burden 

When my back is sturdy and strong? 

Trouble me

(Speak to me) don't mislead me 

The calm I feel means a storm is swelling 

(Speak to me) there's no telling where it starts or how it ends 

(Speak to me) why are you building this thick brick wall to defend me 

(Speak to me) when your silence is my greatest fear?

Why let your shoulders bend 

Underneath this burden 

When my back is sturdy and strong? 

Speak to me

(Let me) have a look inside these eyes while I'm learning 

(Let me) please don't hide them just because of tears 

(Let me) send you off to sleep with a 

"There, there, now stop your turning and tossing" 

(Let me) let me know where the hurt is and how to heal

Spare 

Spare me 

Don't spare me anything 

Troubling

(Trouble me) disturb me with all your cares and your worries 

(Speak to me) and let our words build a shelter from the storm 

(Let me) and lastly, let me know what I can mend

There's more, honestly 

Than my sweet friend, you can see 

Trust is what I'm offering 

If you trouble me

"Trouble Me" by Natalie Merchant, Dennis Drew, 10,000 Maniacs

End of War

 

The war ended that day. Suddenly, without warning, it stopped in its tracks. The tanks were recalled by the king, the plans rolled up and tossed away. It was finished. Lost or won. It stopped and we all looked up and forgave our enemies. Did we have enemies? Not really. The battle was between good and evil. We only chose sides. Then it was over and we went home. 

Not Mine, but Now Yours

 

Blues

 

Do You Want to be Carried?

 

“The LORD your God who goes before you will himself fight for you, just as he did for you in Egypt before your eyes, and in the wilderness, where you have seen how the LORD your God carried you, as a man carries his son, all the way that you went until you came to this place.”

Deuteronomy 1:30-31

 

Do you know God?

Rescue

 

Why Jesus?

 

All I know is this.

I once was lost, rudderless, without direction, with no purpose. Is this it? Go to college, I was in college, get a job, a good job, buy new dishes, put them in a house. I had a growing sense of dissatisfaction. Though I did not want to face it, my sins were calling out from the ground. A million tiny shards of shouldn't-have-done-that. No one really gets away with anything. 

Who prays a prayer like this, humble words asking Jesus to be Lord of their life? In our modern over-uneducated world where I roar and you roar, where we are our own gods, who bows the knee like that and asks for the leading of a man dead 2,000 years?

Ah, He is alive. He died for our sins and rose again. He defeated death.

He answered me. He came to me. The veil parted. I can see now. And what do I see?

I see you and me standing before a great chasm. Was once and now is  not. That's the name of it. I am different. I have been transformed. I am forgiven. I am loved. You are too. Do you know it?

He is real. That's why. Try it and see.