Failing, Freaking Out, and Learning to Be Served

So. Um.

Obviously the silence on the blog yesterday means I get a big red FAIL for 31 Days. I am both OK and not OK with that.

It's OK, because ultimately this blog is a tool. When I decided to take on this challenge, I promised Steve and myself that if at any point it was really not serving my family well for me to put up a daily post, I would prioritize accordingly. And the fact is, it would not have served my family for me to spend an hour on my blog yesterday. I was out of town all weekend, and had pre-written and scheduled articles to publish while I was gone. But I had nothing ready for my first day back, and between a kindergarten field trip, catching up on sleep after a late-night flight, quality time with boys who missed their mama, and a soccer game, my blogging time was pretty much shot. Such is life.

On the other hand, it's not OK because of how alive I have felt the last two weeks. Writing is good for my soul. It has felt so right to be back this month, to be cranking out words. Unfortunately I have not yet figured out a balance between writing and all the other normal life stuff I'm still responsible for. Spending so much time on the computer last week meant pulling meals out of the freezer and letting Mount Laundry pile up and ignoring the state of my floors. I obviously can't do that forever, and the sad truth is that my shower, instead of cleaning itself while I was out of town, actually had the nerve to go and get even more disgusting. (WHEN are they going to invent self-cleaning showers? The shower is the bane of my existence. Give me a toilet over a tub any day of the week. Meanwhile, I would be truly mortified to have anyone use my bathroom at this point.)

Back in college, I was crazy-busy, and I accomplished a lot. I have found in the past that when my time is fuller and more limited, I manage it better--I have to. It feels like life has cranked into high gear around here, and my poor self-discipline and time-management skills are sputtering to catch up.

So I appreciate your patience as I re-learn how to juggle writing and life. And I appreciate Steve's patience as he picks up the slack. If I have to name one way I have seen Jesus the last few days, it is in the kind eyes and serving hands of my sweet husband. He consistently reflects the selfless, sacrificial love of Christ to me, and this past week has been no different.

From Steve's generosity in buying me a plane ticket to go visit a dear friend, to his solo parenting the boys for three solid days, to his tackling a pile of dishes this afternoon while his panicky, anxious wife sat down and did a brain-dump of the million tasks jamming up her mind...y'all, when I got home from my little vacation at midnight on Monday, Elijah's lunch was packed and ready for the next day. Laundry had been folded. Children had been read to and played with and well fed. This man is a keeper.

So when Steve started in with the dishes tonight, after patiently rubbing my back for a few minutes while I freaked out, I squirmed inside. A big part of me wanted to say, "Please stop being so amazing. Stop doing the things I should have gotten done today. I feel so guilty." It is hard to be served sometimes, even as it is wonderful--trust me, being married to this man, I know.

Instead I bit my tongue, and I gave thanks. The reality is, I am needy. I *am* guilty. And the ways my husband meets me in the midst of my weakness and failure and loves me enough to do what I should have done but did not do? Well, Steve provides a tiny picture of the way Jesus loves me, the way He stoops down into the messes I have made. He obeyed perfectly where I do not. He patiently, sweetly calms my anxious heart, promising that when I am weak, He is strong. When I don't have it in me, He is enough. When I make stupid and selfish choices, He will lay down His life for me. And as if all that weren't enough, in His lavish generosity, He gives me a husband who will quietly remind me of who He is without saying a word.


[This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

Prayer Paves the Way for Seeing

It bears repeating that we aren't going to see Jesus if God does not open our eyes. I am so quick to rely on my own strength and so slow to learn that I must humbly ask for help. So today I'm reminding myself how critical prayer is by reflecting on this analysis of the gospel of Luke, from David Helm's excellent book One to One Bible Reading: A Simple Guide for Every Christian:

"Luke doesn't want us to miss the fact that prayer is the instrument God uses to ready us for His revelation. ...as a consequence of prayer, people will come to recognize Jesus for who He is, they will learn what it is to be his disciple, and they will be equipped to serve him well."

Luke 3:21-22 - "The curious but not-yet-believing crowds were first told that Jesus was God's 'beloved Son' at a time when Jesus 'was praying'."

Luke 6:12-16 - "His new followers were called to him the morning after he 'went out to the mountain to pray, and all night he continued in prayer to God'."

Luke 9:28-36 - "...those whom Jesus was training for expanded roles of gospel service--Peter, James and John--caught a glimpse of his full glory at a time when Jesus had pulled them aside 'to pray'."

Luke 9:18-20 - "...when it began to fully dawn on Peter that Jesus was the Christ...that famous encounter began with these often-forgotten words: 'Now it happened that as he was praying alone, the disciples were with him. And he asked them...'"

"One could almost argue that in Luke's Gospel, whenever the gospel is seen to be taking root and growing, it does so in the soil of previous prayer."

--David Helm, One to One Bible Reading, p. 21-23

Let's keep asking, friends! Keep seeking and knocking, believing that God delights to open blind eyes and display the beauty of His beloved Son. 


[This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

Open the Eyes of My Heart

For this Sunday, a throwback to my high school and college days. I can't begin to count how many times I sang this in chapel services, camp meetings, etc. 

Just in case the embedded video malfunctions again, here's a direct link to it on YouTube.

May God open the eyes of your heart this week, so that you can see how high and holy He is. May He pour out His power and His love into your heart, that you would know Him better and love Him more.


 [This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

A Lesson in Art Appreciation

Earlier this month, I got a lesson in seeing Jesus by way of a lesson about art appreciation.

I have the privilege of being part of a group blog project that has recently launched, called Pick Your Portion. Lisa Velthouse (you may remember my review of her memoir) has gathered a group of writers and artists around the M'Cheyne Bible Reading Plan. Each weekday, one of the women offers an article or a piece of artwork as a reflection on one of that day's Scripture readings.

I love the concept, and I've been excited to see what the various women have come up with. The art contributions especially intrigue me, since I am decidedly *not* an artist.

True confession: When I first glanced at the painting published as a response to Ezekiel 34, I thought it looked like a sloppy mess--the kind of thing highbrow art critics applaud, but regular people like me find difficult to appreciate.

But before clicking away, I scrolled down to the comments and saw two other contributors effusively praising it, remarking thoughtfully. “This is beautiful. So beautiful,” the first one said. Really?! I thought, eyebrows raised in disbelief. The commenter continued, saying the painting “reminds me of the trust required if we are to fully see God’s blessings as the gifts they are. Sometimes his work of provision in our life feels a little scary—a little wild and uncontrolled. But, wow, is it beautiful.”

Hmm. 

The second commenter weighed in: “There’s so much movement in this, and at the same time, there’s something subdued about it too. So often I think God’s blessings should come at me like a crash—and they do, but it always looks a little quieter than I initially expected. I love the way this art is helping me think about God’s showers of blessing.”

Well, I thought. Clearly these women are more mature than me, more humble, able to see God’s truth everywhere. They have eyes to appreciate what was certainly a careful piece of work, not a haphazard creation, however it may initially appear.

I scrolled back up to reconsider, and I saw the tree, bent over with the weight of all this color. Showers of blessing. How often does my life look like a mess? I can’t see or make sense of what God is up to in all this. But if His grace is all these colors running together, my tree can hardly be seen for the abundance of it. He overwhelms my life with grace. At first glance, His blessings don’t always seem beautiful. Some are dark, streaked with pain. He pours out grace that humbles, bends these branches low.

Clearly it takes the skill of a practiced, careful painter to make a painting like this. It takes the vision of a creative, talented artist to produce deliberate strokes, layered with meaning. I am not an artist; I have no idea how pieces like this are created, how beauty is brought from a blank canvas and some paints, a brush, a cup of clear water.

And I am not the Artist, the Storyteller, the Creator whose thoughts and ways are far above my own. Dare I ever call the holy masterpiece He is producing ugly? Dare I pronounce his downpour of blessings a mess?

Life is a beautiful mess: because He is beautiful and I am a mess. And He hides the tree of me in the brilliantly colorful glory of His Son, grace running off the page because my one life is too small to contain it.

In the end I was amazed by the painting after all, and it indeed helped me think about God’s showers of blessing in ways I did not imagine. I thanked the artist, for sharing her gift, and the commenters, for setting a reflective example that made me look twice so I didn’t miss beauty.

Fine art isn't made to be glanced at and passed over. I imagine its creators intend for viewers to gaze carefully, linger long, reflect. Similarly, the value of the masterpieces God is at work producing in this broken world can't be immediately discerned with a casual glance. Sometimes we have to look long and hard to see Jesus; sometimes we have to admit He does not look like what we expect. But He is there, and He is beautiful--and unlike with fine art, which is arguably subjective, if ever I do not find His work stunning, the problem is my blindness.


 [This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.] 

The Power of the Inheritance

This theme of inheritance keeps coming up over and over in my life lately--which is always a sign I need to pay attention. As I work to fix my eyes on Jesus this month, I'm reminded of a sermon our pastor recently preached on Acts 20:33-38.

As Paul prepared to go to Jerusalem for the last time, knowing he would probably be killed, he said goodbye to the Ephesian elders. He encouraged them that God's grace was "able to build you up and to give you the inheritance among all those who are sanctified" (Acts 20:32). Paul then reviewed his own ministry among the Ephesians, and our pastor outlined how Paul's actions demonstrated the power of this inheritance:

The inheritance breaks the bondage of covetousness.
How could Paul say "I coveted no one's silver or gold or apparel" (v. 33)? He didn't long for these things because he looked forward to his inheritance. He knew he had something far better than money or clothing. Paul had God Himself, and he was satisfied.

The inheritance cultivates a heart of diligence. 
Paul alluded to his work as a tentmaker and exhorted the people to work hard. He was a master scholar, but he wasn't above getting his hands dirty and working. You see, Paul knew that now was not the time of his retirement. So many of us have bought into the American Dream; we are willing to work hard for a few years only so that we can enjoy a leisurely, carefree retirement of travel and hobbies and relaxation. But Paul looked to something far better and more lasting than an earthly retirement. He knew that his entire life on earth was time to spend and be spent in order to maximize his eternal enjoyment of his inheritance. 

The inheritance opens the springs of generosity. 
Paul worked so hard that he was supporting his gospel co-workers--people like Priscilla and Aquila, or Timothy. And he urged the churches that "by working hard in this way we must help the weak," reminding them, "It is more blessed to give than to receive" (v. 35). Even here Paul was motivated by his inheritance. The Bible is full of discussion about reward. God intends to motivate us with promises of the goodness He has in store for us--most of all, the gift of Himself. As we imitate Him in giving, we are storing up future blessings of knowing Him better and having richer intimacy with Him. 

The inheritance creates a sweetness of relationship. 
As Paul said goodbye, people wept and embraced him. This was a man who once ripped fathers and mothers apart from their children and killed them for worshiping Jesus. And now Christians love Paul and want to be around him so much that they are moved to tears when he leaves! It was Jesus who transformed Paul from one who hated the church and loved rules and self-righteousness, to one who loved the church so much that he was willing to suffer for them.   

At this point, we might be impressed with Paul. But Paul is only a miniature picture of Jesus, who supremely displays all of these qualities: 

Covetousness: Jesus "did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself" (Philippians 2:6). He had no place to lay His head; He did not hold onto His reputation. 

Diligence: Jesus had a clear agenda. He was up early to pray and up late teaching; He did not waste time. "My food," He told His disciples, "is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work" (John 4:34). 

Generosity: "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich" (2 Corinthians 8:9). 

Relationship: Jesus' gifts to us are intended to melt our hearts. He doesn't just command us to sit down, shut up and obey OR ELSE (even though this would be within His rights as Creator of the universe!). He loves us; He offers His very self to us and desires intimacy with us, drawing our hearts to want to follow Him. "I have called you friends," He says (John 15:15).

Jesus' perfect humility and sacrifice cover my covetous, greedy heart. His diligence covers my laziness. His generosity covers my selfish, stingy inclinations. And His love for me, in spite of seeing all this ugliness in my soul, draws me to trust and obey Him. 

It was "for the joy that was set before him" that Jesus "endured the cross, despising the shame" (Hebrews 12:2). And now that He is "seated at the right hand of the throne of God," He graciously invites me to share in that joy, promising that I too have an incredible inheritance to live for.


 [This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.] 

Chattanooga Vacation, and My Longing for More

Last weekend, we took our first official just-the-four-of-us family vacation. We had heard great things about the city of Chattanooga, just a couple hours’ drive away, but in eight years we had never made it over there (despite trying twice). Our first big adventure was Rock City, an enchanting place that we all loved exploring.

 

 

 

After that we took a trip up Lookout Mountain on the Incline Railway.

Later in the day we toured the city on a “truck boat”—an amphibious WWII-era vehicle owned by the Chattanooga Ducks.



 

The tour guide was fantastic, telling all kinds of fascinating history about the city, and we even got to watch the sunset from the Tennessee River.

 

On Sunday, we ventured underground to see Ruby Falls, which was an impressive and worthwhile tour.

Since Elijah and Jude are both somewhat obsessed with trains, we stayed at the Chattanooga Choo Choo Hotel...

 

...and ate pizza aboard a train car (The Silver Diner).

 

Then on Sunday afternoon, the boys experienced their first-ever ride on a REAL train. The Missionary Ridge local uses real steam engines to take passengers six miles down the track (including under a tunnel!). Everyone disembarks, and they demonstrate the use of a huge turntable to turn the engine around before heading back to the station.

 

We packed in a lot of fun, but given that we were in Chattanooga less than 48 hours, we weren’t able to fit in all the things on our list, much less all the other attractions the city had to offer. And as we drove home on Sunday afternoon, I was tempted to feel disappointed. “Man, I wish we could have gotten to the model railroad museum—the boys would have loved that.” Or “I sure wish we could have spent more time downtown.”

Rather than reflecting with amazement and gratitude for the wonders we'd seen and experienced, my heart wanted more. I had this desperate sense of, “Who knows when we’ll go back? We have to do as much as possible now!”

Don’t we often approach life with that same mindset? “I might have 70 or 80 years, and then it’s all over. This is it. I have to see and do as much as possible, maximize my pleasure while I can.” I pursue all the fleeting pleasures that seem so appealing to me right now, all the experiences I think will satisfy my heart and bring me joy. It’s never enough, so I chase more, demand more, devour more in hopes of recapturing that initial ping of happiness.

The reality is, yes, this lifetime is like a vapor. But when my years here are over, the only thing that’s truly over is my foolish pursuit of empty idols! It’s then that I will finally know real, full, lasting joy.

The inheritance I will one day receive in Heaven far surpasses anything I enjoy today. It is beyond my wildest dreams, and it will never fall short of my expectations and leave me feeling disappointed. It is “imperishable, undefiled and unfading”; no thieves can steal it, no weather or sickness can dampen it.

But I don’t live like I believe that. I am so often blind to the inheritance Jesus won on my behalf. Like the prodigal son, I want to flagrantly spend my riches now; I want to selfishly devour my Father’s gifts apart from Him.

My little boys are infected with the same craving for more that afflicts their mama. As we drove back from Chattanooga, Elijah whined, “But I don’t want to go home—I want to do more fun stuff!” Trying to refocus us both, I reminded him: “We already did a lot of fun things this weekend. Instead of whining for more, let’s choose to remember and be thankful for all that we got to do.” This is good advice, but it doesn’t answer the deeper question: Why do we keep looking for more?

Because we were created for more. God made our hearts to be filled and satisfied with Him. Anything less will leave us feeling empty, longing for something greater. In His generosity and kindness, He showers us with glimpses of joy here on earth. The trick is to enjoy those gifts for what they are—not ends in and of themselves, but pointers to our ultimate inheritance: God Himself.

When I find myself grasping for more, I must recognize that what I really need is not a longer vacation. At bottom, my heart is hungry for Jesus. I have to constantly reorient my heart to see the pleasures of this life as types and shadows of a greater inheritance to come, rather than living for the types and shadows and never being able to pin down the joy they seem to promise.

Steve pointed out that as we had marveled at the beauty and majesty of rock formations and the technology that God has enabled humans to produce, how much more amazing will the New Earth be? We'll revel in the creativity. We'll all get to be explorers, discovering new things God created just to delight us. We'll experience all of the awe without any of the fear or danger. And our discoveries will be worship-driven, not profit-driven. We won't have to charge for admission or police the premises so that no one will deface them!

I hope we’ll eventually make it back to Chattanooga. But in the meantime, I want to learn to put my hope not in vacations, not in making my way down a bucket-list of natural wonders and cultural attractions and highly rated restaurants, but in Jesus. I want to remember that real joy will only be found in knowing the One who left His home, the most wonderful place in the universe, and endured a hellish journey so that I could one day make my home with Him, exulting in Him and His creations for all eternity.


 [This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.] 

Rebellion, Curses, Disobedient Sons: Jesus Fulfills the Law

My friend Ashley posted the following bite-sized gospel reflection on Facebook this afternoon, and I'm reposting it here with her permission--I loved how she saw Jesus so clearly in the Old Testament law, and how she exults in the beauty of our Savior and His work in just five short sentences!

"Whoever curses his father or mother shall be put to death" (Exodus 21:17).

I am this son who has rebelled and dishonored. I deserve death. Jesus, the perfect Son who never rebelled or dishonored His earthly parents or His Father in heaven, died the death I deserve. His death has brought me life. He has fulfilled all righteousness!


 [This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

Jesus Cancels Mommy Guilt

Is there a mother among us who doesn't intimately know the feeling of "mommy guilt"? Sometimes it comes at the hands of others--we feel like inferior mothers when we read certain articles or talk to certain people, their accusatory tone declaring that we are ruining our kids. Other times we heap it upon ourselves, comparing our worst moments to the polished and published lives of other moms and condemning ourselves.

I was at a gathering of moms today where this topic came up, and with one exception, the general consensus was that we all struggle with it, that it's a part of being a woman. The solution? Something along the lines of "stop feeling guilty...realize that you have your own strengths...stop comparing yourself to others..." etc.

You already know how I feel about "stop it" as a response to heart struggles, so I asked myself: What CAN we do with this pervasive sense of guilt, this burden of shame that so often weighs us down?

I think the first step is to assess whether our guilt is legitimate. Am I feeling guilty because I *AM* guilty? We tend to treat "guilt" as a dirty word, a negative emotion to be shed like a too-tight pair of shoes. But sometimes guilt is the only appropriate feeling. If we have broken God's law--if we have sinned against Him and against our children--we should feel guilty, and trying to shrug off that guilt won't make it disappear. The real solution to real guilt is to repent!

The good news is, if we really are guilty--if we've yelled at our children, if we've treated them with impatient contempt, if we've escaped at the computer instead of loving and engaging with them--there's a Savior for that! Guilt isn't an end in and of itself; its purpose isn't just to make us feel miserable and hopeless. Instead of wallowing in our guilt, we have to take it to Jesus. He is infinitely patient and gentle; He always loves sacrificially. He bore the punishment that our mom-failures deserve.

Beating ourselves up over our sin, while it seems like a good idea, is actually the height of arrogance. It says, "Jesus, your death on the cross isn't enough to atone for my sin. I must add to your sacrifice my own misery and self-punishment, and *then* once I've suffered a while myself, I can return to you and regain good standing with you." No. Jesus is most honored when we see our sin and RUN to Him--when we realize that nothing we do can add to His perfect redemption, that His death was completely sufficient to atone for every one of our sins.

That's the response for real guilt. But not all our guilt is legitimate--often, we labor under false guilt. We feel guilty because our Pinterest projects end up on a fail blog instead of re-pinned by admiring fans...because we aren't juggling a successful career on the side...because we aren't serving perfectly styled bento lunches...because we aren't doing X or Y or Z as much or as well as that other mom.

Surprisingly, the solution to false guilt is also to repent. Not because these kinds of failures are actually sinful--we aren't offending God with our lack of sewing skills or our inferior cooking abilities or the fact that our home doesn't look like a magazine spread. Rather, the offense here is secondary: it's idolatry.

When we beat ourselves up over all the ways we don't measure up to so-and-so, we're making so-and-so our god. We're looking to other people's standards as law, holding our own standards up on an equal plane with Scripture's commands rather than looking to God alone as Lawgiver and Judge. We're depending on others' opinions for our identity and security, declaring that if only we had this person's approval, then life would really be worth living. Mamas, God is jealous for our hearts. He won't sit by and let us pursue empty, soul-destroying idols like this. He loves us too much to let us chase the wind. He commands us to repent from our idolatry, to fear and worship Him alone.

The good news is, Jesus died for this kind of sin, too. Our idolatry should bring condemnation, but if we are hidden in Christ, trusting in Him, we have no condemnation--we are clothed in His righteousness, accepted and loved and welcomed. He invites us to come to Him and find rest for our weary souls. In Jesus, we can shake off the chain of false guilt; His yoke is easy and His burden is light.

Two kinds of mommy guilt...one Savior who is sufficient to set us free from them both. That's real hope for a guilty mom.


 [This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

Back Up the Sunbeam [Multitude Monday, Take 301]

I debated whether or not to continue my typical Monday gratitude lists during this month's 31 Days of Seeing Jesus series, but I think it fits. It fits, that is, if I do not focus on the gifts as ends in and of themselves, but if I receive them as pointers to the Giver of all good gifts.

This is a challenge, of course. Counting gifts can so easily become a practice of merely "writing down things I enjoy" rather than "recognizing God's kindness and generosity and practicing gratitude for the good things He blesses me with."

So as I keep counting this month, I'm asking God to help me see Jesus in these lists by drawing my attention "back up the sunbeam to the sun." 

"…I have tried to make every pleasure into a channel of adoration. I don’t mean simply by giving thanks for it. One must of course give thanks, but I meant something different… Gratitude exclaims, very properly, ‘How good of God to give me this.’ Adoration says, ‘What must be the quality of that Being whose far-off and momentary coruscations are like this!’ One’s mind runs back up the sunbeam to the sun."
–C.S. Lewis, "Reflections in a Toolshed," from Letters to Malcolm 

With that in mind, this week I have experienced countless pleasures; here are a few I am trying to "make...into a channel of adoration": 

5678. fifteen-minute power naps
5679. a lesson in art appreciation
5680. Elijah scoring a goal at his soccer game!
5681. the joy and excitement on his face
5682. oldies station on Pandora

5683. the Book-It program at Elijah's school = accountability to keep reading to him
5684. fond memories of my own personal pan pizzas with that little blue ticket
5685. cross-references in my study Bible
5686. the way I feel more alive when I am writing
5687. enjoyment of God's Word and hunger to study more

5688. the ability to take a family vacation and enjoy fun activities
5689. the beauty of creation, high on a mountain and hundreds of feet underground
5690. safety on rails, roads, water
5691. sunset on the river
5692. pizza on a train car

5693. warm water in a swimming pool
5694. the founder of Ruby Falls witnessing to the glory and goodness of God
5695. digital photography
5696. the boys' faces aboard a REAL train
5697. gospel conversations with Steve in the car

5698. the awesome inheritance that awaits us, far better than the best vacation, never ending like every vacation must

Look Up

Choosing to quietly sing this Sunday instead of churning out more words. I just discovered this new take on a simple, old-favorite song, from a very favorite musician of mine, Nichole Nordeman:





Well, it appears I'm having some technical difficulties embedding the video...but you can listen on YouTube.

Here's to turning our eyes this week upon the most lovely and wonderful thing they will ever see!


 [This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

Giving All You Have: Jesus and the Widow's Offering

God has been so kind to give me a husband who sees Jesus clearly. I am frequently amazed and blessed by Steve's ability to see and apply the gospel--so I would be cheating you if I didn't feature some of his insights during this month's challenge. Bonus for you, he's also much more concise than I am :) He recently shared these thoughts on another familiar Bible story: 

"Jesus looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the offering box, and he saw a poor widow put in two small copper coins. And he said, “Truly, I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on." (Luke 21:1-4)

How many times has this passage been read with the end result being guilt? "Jesus expects our all, even to the point of giving away our last penny for His work." Since I'm not giving my all right now, how can I feel anything but guilt?

Two observations about the widow:

1) She gives a shocking amount in her worship to God. Just reading the passage slowly makes me go, "You can't do that; you have to be able to eat something! There must be another way to worship God. Don't be so foolish and give up everything you have."

2) In her giving of the gift, she is singled out and praised by the Creator of the Universe. Though she could get no lower in the eyes of man, she was raised up high above all men in the eyes of God.

Where I see Jesus/the Gospel:

1) Jesus gives a shocking amount in his worship of God. He gave up His position at the right hand of God, was a poor, homeless man on earth, and then gave up His very life (to paraphrase verse 4, "He out of His poverty gave up all the blood He had to live on").

2) Even more shocking than this, in Jesus' giving of His gift, *I* am singled out and praised by the Creator of the Universe. Though I should be the lowest in the eyes of God, I am raised up and made an heir with the Gift-Giver. This is like Jesus watching the widow give her gift, then looking at the rich man and saying, "Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been made righteous because she gave everything she had." How great an injustice this would seem to be!

Yet this is the shocking, upside-down reality of the gospel. The widow's sacrifice is admirable, and we should certainly aspire to give our all like she did. But we will be most inspired to give sacrificially when we humbly receive the gift of salvation, when we see the generous heart of the One who literally gave all He had so that we could receive His eternal inheritance.


[This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

Keep Asking

Whenever I have a realization about how I need to ASK GOD to work in my heart--ask Him to show His power in my weakness; ask Him to help me be the mom my kids need; ask Him to soften my heart and cause me to be moved by His glory--typically it goes something like this: 

1. Conviction that I need to be asking. "Oh yeah! This is HIS work! I have to ASK Him. Duh."
2. A couple of days of earnest prayers along this line. Maybe a week. Two weeks, tops.
3. Forgetfulness. Discouragement. Faithlessness. Return to old patterns.

I am a product of our 21st-century instant-gratification culture. I want results, and I want them yesterday. When God doesn't transform me on my timetable, I'm sorry to say that I am incredibly quick to lose heart.

But as Dr. David Powlison has said, "Change is incremental. The actual process is usually slow. God seems content to work on a scale of centuries with the church, and a scale of decades with individuals. ...The unfolding process is invariably messy."

DECADES! No wonder I get impatient!

I have seen Jesus this week, and He has been beautiful. This in itself is a sighting of Him: If He were not at work in my heart, if His Spirit was not active in me, I would not have eyes to see Him or a taste for His goodness at all. I would not have a hunger for His Word. So the fact that I have experienced these things in some measure over the last few days encourages me; it helps me see Him even more.

But I am not suddenly, magically a new person. I am still so often shortsighted, still easily discouraged when change doesn't come quickly enough. So I am reminding myself (and you) again: Keep asking. Just as the apostle Paul prayed for the Ephesian church--not once but continually

"I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe."  (Ephesians 1:17-19 NIV, emphasis added)

 The power at work in the hearts of those who know Him is the same power that raised Jesus from the dead, Paul goes on to say. And we can be certain that God will use that power to enlighten the eyes of our hearts, because He longs for us to see and love the glory of His name even more than we want to see!


 [This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

Who Can Deliver You? Jesus Seen in Daniel 3

One of the most exciting things I've learned over the last several years is the way all of Scripture points to Jesus. For most of my life, I had this understanding that New Testament = Jesus, and Old Testament = morality stories about various characters, plus a handful of amazing prophecies pointing to Jesus (like Isaiah 9, for example).

But in reality, the entire Bible is about Jesus--from Genesis to Revelation, the writers are looking forward to His coming, describing His work here on earth, pointing back to His life and death, or anticipating His final return. Jesus Himself told the Jews that the Scriptures (what we call the Old Testament) "bear witness about me" (John 5:39). And after He died and rose again, as He walked with His disciples on the road to Emmaus, "beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself" (Luke 24:27).

When I began to read Scripture through this lens, I was amazed at how clearly and beautifully I could see Jesus in familiar Old Testament stories. So one of my goals for this month is to give you a taste of reading the Bible in search of Jesus, and inspire you to dig in and look for Him yourself!

If you attended Sunday school as a child, you're probably familiar with the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in Daniel 3. These three friends, exiled from Jerusalem and taken into the king's court in Babylon, were determined to worship God alone, regardless of the wicked culture around them. When King Nebuchadnezzar set up a golden image and commanded that everyone bow to it, these three simply ignored him. Furious, the king demanded that they worship the image or be thrown into a fiery furnace. Still they refused:

"O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter. If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up” (v. 16-18).

At this point the king went ballistic. After ordering the furnace overheated to the point that just standing near it killed his own servants, he had Shadrach, Meschach and Abednego (can we just go all VeggieTales at this point and call them Rack, Shack and Benny?) thrown into the flames. But to his amazement, they were unharmed. They emerged without even smelling like smoke, and Nebuchadnezzar (to his credit) acknowledged the supremacy of their God above all others.

Typically our take-away from a story like this is along the lines of, "Be like Rack, Shack and Benny! Don't bow down to false gods--remain faithful to God and trust that He can save you from wicked men!"

This is true. It's good advice. But casting these guys as the heroes of the story falls far short of recognizing the glory of the true Hero of this and every story.

Some say that the "fourth figure" seen walking in the flames with the three friends (v. 25) may have been a pre-incarnational Christ; we don't really know. But ultimately Jesus did not just go into the fire *with* His people. He endured the flames *instead of* His people. Consider:

Shadrach, Meschach and Abednego were thrown into a fiery furnace after wicked men conspired against them. They chose to remain faithful to God, not knowing whether He would deliver them. As it turned out, they escaped unharmed.

...Jesus, on the other hand? He, too, was sentenced to execution after wicked men conspired against Him. Unlike the men in Daniel 3, Jesus had the power to save Himself, yet willingly submitted to the torture. He chose to remain faithful to God even knowing that God would NOT deliver Him. And He suffered the fullness of God's wrath, harmed beyond what any human has ever known.

Shadrach, Meschach and Abednego were delivered as they trusted in God.

...Jesus, on the other hand? He was the only man ever whose trust in God was perfect, without wavering, never doubting--yet God did *not* deliver Him--because by His suffering, He could deliver forever those whose trust is weak and faltering.

I don't know about you, but that inspires my trust...and my awe, and my praise...so much more. King Nebuchadnezzar asks the question, "Who is the god who will deliver you out of my hands?" (v.15) The answer is glorious: The God who will put His own Son, His very self, into your hands in my place. "He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again" (2 Corinthians 1:10).
 

 [This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

Acknowledging Blindness and ASKING for Sight

So it's Day 2 of my new blog challenge, the first official day where I actually have to come up with something to say, rather than just introducing my topic and telling you what I'm going to tell you. Today I have to have something to tell you.

My toddler has been asleep for over an hour, and I've been procrastinating. Now that naptime is half over and my writing time is rapidly dwindling, the pressure is on. I ask myself, "Have I seen Jesus yet today? How? What does that even mean anyway? What am I going to write about?"

And it occurs to me: Have I *asked* to see Jesus today? Have I asked God to open my blind eyes?

This is the story of my life: I rush ahead, believing the lie of self-sufficiency.

It isn't long before my delusional belief that I am capable crumbles.

I realize that I am helpless and hopeless without the strength God provides. I am keenly aware that I am needy, that I can't do this on my own, that I am not enough.

Too often, it stops there--just a mental acknowledgment of the facts, an inner monologue about my sorry state.

Once again today, I am reminded how critical it is to move from monologue to dialogue. Sudden awareness of my blindness is not meant to lead me merely to lament my blindness. It is meant to lead me to cry out to the One who restores sight to the blind!

This journey to see, after all, is a *fight* to see. We have an enemy who has everything riding on our failure to see the Beautiful One who can save us: "...the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God" (2 Corinthians 4:4).

And what blind person can cure herself? Left to ourselves, we are indeed hopeless. BUT! When we cry out for help, our cries are heard by a sovereign God who delights to open blind eyes--who sent His Son to do just that:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

     because he has anointed me

     to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives

     and recovering of sight to the blind,

     to set at liberty those who are oppressed,

to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor.” (Luke 4:18-19)

So I begin in the only appropriate way: with a posture of humility, remembering that I have nothing valuable to say in and of myself, that my natural state is one of blindness, that I need help to see Jesus.

And with a heart of hope, trusting that when I ask Him, "the Lord opens the eyes of the blind. The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down; the Lord loves the righteous" (Psalm 146:8)--and clothed in Christ, I am righteous.

Take a moment even now to join me in asking: "Lord, open my eyes. Enable me to truly see the beauty and glory of Jesus!" And then be encouraged by His promise:

"Strengthen the weak hands,

     and make firm the feeble knees.

Say to those who have an anxious heart,

     'Be strong; fear not!

Behold, your God

     will come with vengeance,

with the recompense of God.

     He will come and save you.'

Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,

     and the ears of the deaf unstopped;

then shall the lame man leap like a deer,

     and the tongue of the mute sing for joy.

For waters break forth in the wilderness,

     and streams in the desert;

the burning sand shall become a pool,

     and the thirsty ground springs of water..." 

(Isaiah 35:3-7)

 [This post is part of the series "31 Days of Seeing Jesus"--click here for a list of all posts.]

31 Days of Seeing Jesus

[Scroll down to read Day 1]

Day 2: Acknowledging Blindness and ASKING for Sight 
Day 3: Who Can Deliver You: Jesus Seen in Daniel 3
Day 4: Keep Asking
Day 5: Giving All You Have: Jesus and the Widow's Offering
Day 6: Look Up 
Day 7: Back Up the Sunbeam
Day 8: Jesus Cancels Mommy Guilt 
Day 9: Rebellion, Curses, Disobedient Sons: Jesus Fulfills the Law
Day 10: Chattanooga Vacation, and My Longing for More
Day 11: The Power of the Inheritance
Day 12: A Lesson in Art Appreciation
Day 13: Open the Eyes of My Heart
Day 14: Prayer Paves the Way for Seeing
Day 15: [none]
Day 16: Failing, Freaking Out, and Learning to Be Served
Day 17: Treasures :: A Broken Piece of Cornerstone
Day 18: Inheritance, Injustice, and a Greater Story
Day 19: The Righteous King's House Endures
Day 20: Where Justice and Mercy Meet
Day 21: Multitude Monday, Take 302
Day 22: [none]
Day 23: Failure and Perspective
Day 24: On Potty Training and Eternal Realities
Day 25: Treasures :: A Sharp Pebble
Day 26: [none]
Day 27: Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus
Day 28: Multitude Monday, Take 303
Day 29: Keeping Promises
Day 30: [none]
Day 31: Noticing the Good


There's this exhilarating moment when threads converge. You hear something one place, and then have a conversation with someone else, and then it's in the book you're reading. You get a random blog comment, you get lost on rabbit trails exploring a new blog, and then boom! you're signing up for 31 Days.

Just about the only way I ever realize that God is speaking to me is when I hear the same message over and over from unrelated sources. That's been happening lately with the idea of seeing Jesus. Our pastor has been hitting it hard on Sunday mornings, and I've had this awareness that if I could learn to fix my eyes on Jesus--really *see* Him--I would be different. Everything would be different.

You see (ooh, pun intended), it's not that I don't know who He is and what He has done. It's not that I don't know what I should or shouldn't be doing. It's that in the moment, my eyes are everywhere else: fixed on the mundane task in front of me...fixed on myself and the desires of my flesh...fixed on my sin, my struggles...fixed on my duties, my plan for trying harder and doing better.

What does it really mean to fix my eyes on Jesus? How do I do that? What does it look like?

I don't really know yet, but I do know that one way I see is by writing--John Piper's little rhyme rings so true in my heart:

I know not how the light is shed,
Nor understand this lens.
I only know that there are eyes
In pencils and in pens.

Which brings me to the other theme that's been coming up repeatedly: I'm realizing more and more that I *need* to be writing--even if I am not amazing, even if Christian stay-at-home moms who blog are a dime a dozen, even if I never publish a book or grow an impressive platform. If I am not writing, I am generally not seeing, not preaching to myself, not mapmaking. If I am not writing, I am not thriving.

I was reminded of this just yesterday as I read Elizabeth Maxon's 31 Days post from last October. Her words about overcoming fear and writing resonated with me, and I remembered, "oh yeah, I've seen other bloggers do this 31 Days challenge in the past." Instantly I knew what my topic would be: 

Seeing Jesus. 

All the threads converge: write, every day, about seeing Jesus. Making myself slow down and look carefully and SEE, so that I have something to write about. Making myself write, so that I can see. 

Since I just decided yesterday to do this, I have no idea where it will really go. I'm anticipating maybe three types of posts. First, I'll open the Word and look for Jesus where you don't expect to find Him, in the Old Testament. All of Scripture points to Him, if only we have eyes to see Him. Second, I'll be looking for Him in the ordinary moments of my life. This will be the hardest part, but the part I most need to grow in. And third, I may share some stories from other people's lives (especially my husband). Steve is great at helping me see our Savior, so if I get stuck I'll probably borrow his brilliant observations :) 

This is going to be intense. I may not actually finish. Trying to discern what I can or should dive into is tricky, and I have a lot of other things going on this month. But I want to learn to see better; I want to train my eyes to focus on the beauty and glory of Jesus. So...here we go!