It's been a cool summer. Too cool, in fact, for our kids' pool to heat up adequately. Too cool for sunburns. But we're not complaining. The sun's been out and it's been more comfortable outside than most summers, so we've enjoyed it. Now that everyone is back at school, we've set the sunscreen aside until next year.
In the book, Changed into His Image, Jim Berg likens God's Word to the sun's exposure. The more we expose ourselves to the Word of God, the more evident it becomes to others--and ourselves. If we are not seeing the change in our lives that we know God is working, we need more exposure, more "time in the sun." I like the analogy and think it can be carried even to the "tan lines" of our lives--those areas we choose not to expose to God's light.
But the thing I've been thinking about lately is the spiritual sunscreen that keeps me from absorbing the light of God's Word. Spiritual sunscreen diminishes the effect of God's Word in my life. Spiritual sunscreen produces the same appearance in my life as that of unbelievers--who have little or no exposure to God and His Word at all. I am not saying that God is ineffective in His work, ways, or Word. What I am saying is that we often fail to see how we inhibit God's working in our lives. And spiritual sunscreen is? Pride.
When I protect myself from the conviction of God's Word with slippery justification or anchored excuses or wimpy admissions, I cover myself--even while experiencing open exposure--and minimize God's intended effect. It is only when I come to God bare, uncovered, unsheltered, and vulnerable that His Word will sear me, even as Isaiah's lips were burned with the live coal. As I yield to His Word and the working of His Spirit, He will make Himself evident in my life. When God reveals His glory in my life, the expected result is humility and repentance--this is the outcome of exposure the the Light. This is the evidence of a God tan.
In exposing ourselves to the Word of God--in our personal lives, families' lives, and as a local church Body--may we take the time to strip off the sunscreen and allow the light of God to minister to our hearts and souls in an intimate, quiet, searing way. May others see beautifully coppered lives that reflect the glory of our God and Father, through His Son, Jesus Christ, and by His Spirit. It will be evident in brokenness, humility, servitude, and repentance. It's time to put away the sunscreen. How's your tan?
Is your heart weary, weighed down in ministry for the cause of Christ? Do you long for refreshment? Come with brokenness and humility. Allow God to fill your parched heart from the overflow of His Word.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Rest Time
We have just finished a week of vacation Bible school. As I write, I am surrounded by boxes of decorations and teaching supplies: bed sheets, shoe organizers, space rugs, cast iron pots with lids, the list goes on.... It seems with any task, there is preparation, execution, and resolution: i.e. collect the stuff, use the stuff, put away the stuff.
Jesus' life may not have been surrounded by stuff (in fact, when he sent out the disciples, they were told to take only a staff--imagine teaching VBS with only a staff (for some of us, that might be a blessing!)), but His life was more full of people and needs than any of our lives. In Mark chapter 6, Jesus sent out His disciples to preach (v. 12), and their return was met with news of John the Baptist's death. It was a heavy load. They were tired physically and spiritually, and now they were no doubt frightened and discouraged. "And He said to them, 'Come away by yourselves to a secluded place and rest a while.'" (v. 31).
Jesus, of all people, recognized the need for seclusion and rest. He understood the demands his disciples had been shouldering. He knew the press of the people, the pain of John's death, and the prostration of weariness. There was nothing self-indulgent or wrong in separating themselves from the people and their ever-present needs. It was necessary and appropriate for the disciples to get away. It was a gift.
Two things strike me. The first is that it was a command couched in an invitation. He wanted to provide for the disciples and He knew their need. Was it any less important to obey Christ in rest than in work? To obey Christ is to do what He says, regardless of the task. Rest is a task. When He invites (or commands) me to rest, I have a choice--to rest or not to rest, to obey or to disobey--knowing there is always blessing in obedience.
The second thing, then, is the disciples' response. Unlike many of us, they didn't ignore Christ or argue with Him. They readily obeyed. How often, when we hear Christ's faint voice calling us from the busyness of life, do we argue with Him and justify pressing on? Could it be that we are striving to finish the work that He would have us leave behind? Could it be that we are more concerned with our own reputation than with His? Or could it be that we no longer hear Him because we failed to heed long ago and have hearts that are hardened past the point of sensitivity? Perhaps there is too much busyness to listen--or we choose the busyness because we are afraid of the thoughts that plague rest and how God will use the rest itself to transform us.
Rest when He calls. Trust His voice. The needs remain. They are not yours to meet--they belong to the Father. The demands may not lessen, but obedience to rest is the same as obedience to work. It has the same value. It is the same Lord, the same Master, who calls us to both.
Jesus' life may not have been surrounded by stuff (in fact, when he sent out the disciples, they were told to take only a staff--imagine teaching VBS with only a staff (for some of us, that might be a blessing!)), but His life was more full of people and needs than any of our lives. In Mark chapter 6, Jesus sent out His disciples to preach (v. 12), and their return was met with news of John the Baptist's death. It was a heavy load. They were tired physically and spiritually, and now they were no doubt frightened and discouraged. "And He said to them, 'Come away by yourselves to a secluded place and rest a while.'" (v. 31).
Jesus, of all people, recognized the need for seclusion and rest. He understood the demands his disciples had been shouldering. He knew the press of the people, the pain of John's death, and the prostration of weariness. There was nothing self-indulgent or wrong in separating themselves from the people and their ever-present needs. It was necessary and appropriate for the disciples to get away. It was a gift.
Two things strike me. The first is that it was a command couched in an invitation. He wanted to provide for the disciples and He knew their need. Was it any less important to obey Christ in rest than in work? To obey Christ is to do what He says, regardless of the task. Rest is a task. When He invites (or commands) me to rest, I have a choice--to rest or not to rest, to obey or to disobey--knowing there is always blessing in obedience.
The second thing, then, is the disciples' response. Unlike many of us, they didn't ignore Christ or argue with Him. They readily obeyed. How often, when we hear Christ's faint voice calling us from the busyness of life, do we argue with Him and justify pressing on? Could it be that we are striving to finish the work that He would have us leave behind? Could it be that we are more concerned with our own reputation than with His? Or could it be that we no longer hear Him because we failed to heed long ago and have hearts that are hardened past the point of sensitivity? Perhaps there is too much busyness to listen--or we choose the busyness because we are afraid of the thoughts that plague rest and how God will use the rest itself to transform us.
Rest when He calls. Trust His voice. The needs remain. They are not yours to meet--they belong to the Father. The demands may not lessen, but obedience to rest is the same as obedience to work. It has the same value. It is the same Lord, the same Master, who calls us to both.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
The Essence of Grace
My husband took early retirement this spring from an international company. The travel had become a point of stress for our family and God provided the means for him to farm full-time. As we have adjusted to a new lifestyle, there have been many points of giving where we had not given before and taking in altered ways.
As I read the account of Ruth and Boaz once again, the pictures were much more vivid. I was more aware of the back-straining work it must have been to glean a wheat field by hand; of the danger Ruth would have subjected herself to as a new, single, foreign woman in a workplace dominated by men. Then, when Boaz extended himself to her that first day he offered himself for her protection and his means for her provision. "...and he served her roasted grain, and she ate and was satisfied and had some left."
The beauty of his generosity was the fullness of another word: grace. Grace is extended from the one who has much to the one who has less. Boaz served Ruth out of his much. She was satisfied, and there was more to spare. I was struck by the not so profound thought that to give grace, one must have more than what he/she needs. In other words, I can only extend grace to others when I have an excess. In this adjustment to a new life and a new routine, I can only extend patience and kindness when I have more than I need. Knowing my limitations, I will not have an excess until I am depending on God to meet my many areas of shortcoming. Only He can provide excessive patience, excessive lovingkindness, excessive thoughtfulness, excessive peace, excessive joy....
Once again I opened the refreshing writing of Angela Thomas Guffey in her book, Tender Mercy for a Mother's Soul. The whole of the book centers on grace, on God's gift of so much more.... Let me leave you with a taste of God's grace from Angela's pen,
"Can you hear this? No matter what your feelings of worth before the Father, He loves you now and forever. Grace is the forgiving, redeeming, and pursuing love of God for us. Grace has nothing to do with the things you do or who you are on this earth. The extravagant gift of God's grace comes to us only because we belong to God.
"That is what makes it so extravagant; we can not earn it, and yet we so desperately need it.
"We cannot make God give us more, because He freely gives us all.
"We cannot fall beyond the reach of God's grace, and we cannot grow past our profound need.
"We cannot understand the mind of God, so we do not completely comprehend a love that is without boundary or limit. We are awed to know that we can turn away or run away, but God is always, and eternally, still in love with us.
"Because of His mercy, we have the privilege of living in this abundance of grace. Some people spend their whole lives striving and searching. others accumulate accolades and things. But we are most blessed, because the divine grace of God has come to us.
"He is here, and by His grace, we can rest.
"He is here, and by His grace, we can live.
"He is here, and by His grace, we are free." (p. 126)
Today, may we flourish in the grace of our God and Savior, Jesus Christ, even as we shower those around us with that same grace.
As I read the account of Ruth and Boaz once again, the pictures were much more vivid. I was more aware of the back-straining work it must have been to glean a wheat field by hand; of the danger Ruth would have subjected herself to as a new, single, foreign woman in a workplace dominated by men. Then, when Boaz extended himself to her that first day he offered himself for her protection and his means for her provision. "...and he served her roasted grain, and she ate and was satisfied and had some left."
The beauty of his generosity was the fullness of another word: grace. Grace is extended from the one who has much to the one who has less. Boaz served Ruth out of his much. She was satisfied, and there was more to spare. I was struck by the not so profound thought that to give grace, one must have more than what he/she needs. In other words, I can only extend grace to others when I have an excess. In this adjustment to a new life and a new routine, I can only extend patience and kindness when I have more than I need. Knowing my limitations, I will not have an excess until I am depending on God to meet my many areas of shortcoming. Only He can provide excessive patience, excessive lovingkindness, excessive thoughtfulness, excessive peace, excessive joy....
Once again I opened the refreshing writing of Angela Thomas Guffey in her book, Tender Mercy for a Mother's Soul. The whole of the book centers on grace, on God's gift of so much more.... Let me leave you with a taste of God's grace from Angela's pen,
"Can you hear this? No matter what your feelings of worth before the Father, He loves you now and forever. Grace is the forgiving, redeeming, and pursuing love of God for us. Grace has nothing to do with the things you do or who you are on this earth. The extravagant gift of God's grace comes to us only because we belong to God.
"That is what makes it so extravagant; we can not earn it, and yet we so desperately need it.
"We cannot make God give us more, because He freely gives us all.
"We cannot fall beyond the reach of God's grace, and we cannot grow past our profound need.
"We cannot understand the mind of God, so we do not completely comprehend a love that is without boundary or limit. We are awed to know that we can turn away or run away, but God is always, and eternally, still in love with us.
"Because of His mercy, we have the privilege of living in this abundance of grace. Some people spend their whole lives striving and searching. others accumulate accolades and things. But we are most blessed, because the divine grace of God has come to us.
"He is here, and by His grace, we can rest.
"He is here, and by His grace, we can live.
"He is here, and by His grace, we are free." (p. 126)
Today, may we flourish in the grace of our God and Savior, Jesus Christ, even as we shower those around us with that same grace.
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